#it was a good four day run. that's more than i've drawn all year

[raiiny-bay]

today's progress: i think i'm done with the face

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[xerofresh]

🔥 SILVERSTREAKSHIPPING WEEK 🍙

🍙 DAY 3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE 🔥

Yeah, vampire x vampire hunter au lets go.

Lore time! Larry was turned into a vampire when he was young and found out how to integrate with society easily, even getting a job at the league. But one day (I’m not sure how yet) he accidentally spreads a vampiric epidemic and turns Paldea into a high-alert modern-victorian hellhole. The league finds out he's a vampire because of this, so he runs away and secludes himself to not hurt anyone else, but the damage has already been done. The league closes off the league building because it's contaminated, Larry sees this and just moves back in and turns it into a combo league building and Victorian castle. For years they have had to fight off vampire spawn and they need reinforcements, so Kabu volunteers and moves to Paldea to help. Then a few missions later he stumbles across Larry chilling somewhere by Medali not hunting or anything. Again, I don't know exactly what happens after that but there are a lot of very gay feelings between them and they are both confused as to why.

Alright now that's over, I modified vampires a little bit so stick with me.

Vampires are not limited to humans for blood! They can drink the blood of any warm-blooded creature, mainly mammals, like a Chupacabra. They can also eat berries because fruitbats (humans still taste the best though)

There are vampire spawns and then true vampires. True vampires are what Larry is, typical Hollywood vampires. Vampire spawns are more like animals, they don't have much cognitive thought other than animalistic desires and following their leader, Larry. They're kind of like dogs in the sense that they can be trained to do tasks and stuff. Dogs with rabies.

Vampires are killed/repelled by the typical things, sunlight, garlic, wooden stakes, and decapitation. Some things I've changed are one, vampires can only be damaged in combat by the stakes or silver weapons; two, crosses and holy water do nothing, it's just an outdated legend. Most people don't know this because when they do use it, they're just startled and/or confused so they're vulnerable, people: three, vampires can only be burned by the magical fire from Pokèmon, no man or nature-made fires can hurt vampires; four, I will not be implementing the rule that vampires can only attack you if you invite them into your house, but I will implement the scattering of seeds or grain to distract vampires. Some stories say if you scatter seeds, vampires are compelled to count them. This only applies to Larry though since vampire spawns don't have the cognitive ability to count, and it is just the autistic Larry thing to do; and five, only vampire spawns are affected by sunlight. I only really did this so there's a sense of suspense even though the league knows who the vampire is. The general public doesn't know because the league is bad at communicating.

All vampires can turn into bats (or bat Pokèmon idk) Larry can stay in his bat form for much longer.

When a true vampire settles somewhere, vampire spawns are drawn to the location and it serves as a home base. Some vampires are lone wolves (or bats in this case) but most serve under Larry.

Alright, now for some other character tidbits!

Larry is a bit lazier in this au. After he finishes redecorating he doesn't need to do anything because if he wanted food he could just get one of his servants to fetch someone. If Larry does have the rare urge to hunt somewhere, it’s mainly by Medali for the nostalgia and good options, or Cortando since it’s the closest (other than Mesagoza but he has standards he's not killing kids)

Larry cultivates a berry orchard in front of his castle when he doesn't want blood that day. It’s also kind of a maze to get through and only Larry and any spawns that help in the orchard know the paths to get through.

Larry is still a foodie and knows exactly which berries and what blood types work together.

Larry has named every single one of his servants. He has them all written down just in case he forgets.

Kabu is a very skilled vampire hunter, stories of vampires started in Europe after all. With his athleticism and powerful fire Pokèmon he is well-known by hunters worldwide. Any fire type trainer is a danger to vampires with their Pokèmon, but a fire type vampire hunter is a whole new ball game.

Kabu’s a bit more serious and jaded, but he still has that fiery passion that he's known for, it doesn't really show while he's hunting because it’s not really his favorite thing to do you know? It more shows when he's training and battling with his Pokèmon like canon Kabu.

So yeah uh cool gay vampire stuff! We love to see it.

[spaghettithighs]

The Bad Opinion Haver has a bad opinion: the worst tier list in existence.

(or at least the worst tier list I've seen in the last 3 to 5 business days)

So... I have beef. It's a silly beef, but I have it nonetheless. I've mentioned Lily Orchard the Bad Opinion Haver a few times before, and her uncanny ability to get under my skin. Right now, of all her myriad Bad Opinions(TM) my ire is drawn mostly to this:

Per the original description:

My wife (Lily) and I (Mikaila) made a tierlist for Baldur's Gate companions.

Before you jump to your keyboards to react, we judged them based on the following criteria.

Viability in a party

Relevance to the story

Their own character story

Their romance (if applicable)

The quality of content surrounding them

They were only tiered based on games they were a companion in (so Ajantis in BG2 and Viconia in BG3 weren't considered).

And they were tiered evenly, so if they were really strong in one area but weak in the others, they were tiered lower. So S Tier is high marks in everything, while RP tier is "Literally every other character in their respective game is better than them, only take them if you're roleplaying."

Now, of the Baldurs Gate CRPG series, I have only played BG3 to completion. I'm currently halfway through Baldur's Gate 1 (specifically the Enhanced Edition), and I haven't touched BG2 or Siege of Dragonspear yet. Regardless, I feel comfortable in saying the above tier list is one of the worst tier lists I've seen, and the reasons why have nothing to do with the specific placement of any character.

So, what makes it so awful? Well:

Reason one:

There, I fixed it (but not really)

The tier list ranks 57 characters from four separate games in a series, with the first game in the series having been published 25 years before the most recent one. That is a lot of characters for anyone to remember, and yet Lily Orchard didn't so much as bother to include their names, let alone the games that they appear in. (now, you could argue that this tier list is meant for people who already recognize all of the Baldurs Gate characters from portraits alone. That would be a fair assumption, if it weren't for the fact that 17 of the 57 characters above are not represented by their official Baldurs Gate artwork. In fact, I'm not 100% certain that I got all of the characters correct in my labelling - it's possible that I mixed up 2 or more characters, because I am working purely off of the information provided in the original tier list, which is... not a lot)

Reason 2: The criteria for this tier list are too broad.

To recap, we have 57 different characters from 4 different games, and they're being rated on 5 separate criteria:

Viability in a party (in other words, mechanical effectiveness)

Relevance to the story

Their own character story

Their romance (if applicable)

The quality of content surrounding them (we'll get back to this one)

Any one of these criteria would make for a good tier list... by itself. By ranking characters on all 5 at once, the reasoning for placing each character in each position becomes more muddied, especially when you withhold the information that would lead to each character being where they are. ... Okay, I said I wasn't going to get too into the specific placements of any character, but to illustrate my points I will bring up one example; Dynaheir is present in the S tier of this list, which implies that she scores exceptionally well in all 5 categories. So let's run through them quickly:

Mechanical Effectiveness: Dynaheir is certainly a good character in BG1, but her effectiveness is hampered by the same thing that hampers all mages in BG1 - limited spell selection due to low character level. For the first 4 or so levels she'll spend most of the time parked behind the tanky front-liners, mooching off of XP from the mundane fights until she's ready to bring out the big guns at 5th level. If you do use her spells in every fight, you're going to be resting a lot, and that brings its own complications in BG1.

Relevance to the story: Strictly speaking, none of the BG1 companions are essential to the story, not even Imoen. The game has 25 optional characters, and you'll be bringing at most 5 along with you at any given time. That's just not a lot of opportunity for deep character interaction.

Their own character story: Dynaheir will occasionally banter with Minsc, but the only quest relevant to her in BG1 is the one in which you first encounter her, and that could be argued to be Minsc's personal quest first and foremost. Then comes Baldurs Gate 2... and she's dead. :/

Their romance: Dyna's not romanceable, so this does not apply.

The quality of content surrounding them: I said we'll get back to this one. Be patient.

Now, to be fair, I did ask Lily directly why Dynaheir is in S tier, and here is her response:

"She's in S Tier because Mages are S Tier. Especially in BG1 with the Sleep/Web combo."

Okay, so Dynaheir is in S tier exclusively for mechanical reasons. Only... if that were the case:

Why are other mages from Baldurs Gate 1 (Edwin, Xzar, Quayle and Xan) not also in S tier with Dynaheir?

Is Lily aware that Dynaheir, who is barred from casting Enchantment spells, cannot cast Sleep?

I'm sure if I asked Lily about every other character in the tier list, I'd get a similar explanation that would lead to similar follow-up questions. However, I can't help but assume that the list's ambiguity is the whole point; Lily doesn't want these opinions to be open to debate.

Reason 3: The criteria for this tier list don't apply equally to every Baldur's Gate game

Let's cycle back to that first point; party viability / mechanical effectiveness. In Baldur's Gate 1 and 2 this is pretty important, because characters in these games are locked into the choices made at character creation. (this could lead to a whole separate discussion about accessibility in RPGs and "the burden of foreknowledge", but I digress). Aerie will always be a Cleric/Mage, Alora will always be a Thief, Khalid will always be a simp for Jaheira et cetera, so if you want a balanced party, you will have to consider the mechanical benefits of each character, as well as their banter and individual story beats.

In Baldur's Gate 3, you can change any companion's whole class at any time for 100 gold pieces.

In other words, the first criteria (Mechanical effectiveness) is completely irrelevant to Baldurs Gate 3 characters.

Before you say that shouldn't matter; every companion in Baldur's Gate 3 has unique dialog options for the Bard-only cantrip Vicious Mockery, and unique roars when entering a Barbarian rage. The ability to adjust any origin PC's class and abilities is a fully supported and wholly intentional part of the game, and should be considered as such when creating a tier list such as this one. Especially when you consider what else this tier list accounts for:

Reason 4: This tier list is based on heavily modded versions of each game.

Hey, remember that last point that I kept saying we'd get back to? Here it is again:

The quality of content surrounding (the character)

By content, Lily Orchard is referring to mods.

This isn't a matter of speculation; Lily Orchard is very open about the mods she uses when playing Baldur's Gate 1, 2 and even 3. Notably, Lily has often claimed that the Imoen Romance Mod (a mod that allows you to romance your own half-sister) is one of the greatest romances of all time. Given that Imoen is S-tier in Lily Orchard's rankings, and that romance is one of the list's criteria, the aforementioned mod has definitely made an impact on the tier list.

I'm not here to begrudge Lily's decision to play the Baldur's Gate games with mods, that's her choice as a consumer of media. As a reviewer, though, she should absolutely be basing her opinions off of un-modded content. Otherwise, the game that she plays could be (and demonstrably is) radically different to the game that a follower is playing.

Let me put it another way: several of the companions in Baldurs Gate 1 come in pairs - if you recruit one, the other joins automatically (or after a short quest). Dismiss one, and the other leaves with them. It's possible to travel with only one of the pair (usually by letting the unwanted character die and then dismissing the corpse) but the expectation is that you play with both, or with neither.

Lily has tiered the members of these pairings separately in the above tier list -because- you can play with separate characters via the above method. Now, if I were to install a mod that makes it so that paired characters will always leave if their dead companion is dismissed, that would impact the tier list above - an S tier character isn't going to be S tier if they're permanently attached to dead weight, after all. You could argue that this shouldn't matter, because I'm basing my opinions on a fully optional mod - and you'd be absolutely right.

The other reason to disqualify a tier list based on mods is one of self-selection. As previously mentioned, the Imoen Romance Mod has definitely influenced Lily's rankings, but I daresay that she included it because she likes Imoen in the first place. To that extent, what's to say that Lily hasn't specifically included modded content for characters she already enjoys playing? Neera the Wild Mage is in F-tier because Lily doesn't like the random nature of Wild Magic surges, but what's to stop her from adding a "good outcomes for Wild Magic only" mod, other than the fact that she already doesn't like Neera?

In Conclusion:

This tier list is bad. It's bad because it's incomprehensible, it's bad because it's indefensible, and it's bad because it's based on a version of Baldur's Gate that you will never play.

Tier lists by their very nature invite discussion - there is no tier list on the internet that won't spark up some level of disagreement, after all. And yet, by its obstinate ambiguity, this tier list has tried its damnedest to stifle any and all discussion on its core subject - forcing me to discuss, instead, just how much it fucking sucks.

Thank you for reading.

PS: I may as well share who my current BG1 party is comprised of - by Lily's metric, I have 2 S-tiers, a D-tier, an F-tier and one RP-tier. We're having fun~

[the-acid-pear]

i know i missed Dee's birthday a bit yesterday (art block :/), but!! Puppet!Dee design stuff :]

so. had a thought a short while back of "what if the Puppet was based off of a cat, since Dee likes cats (at least in my headcanon)?" and uh. yeah that's pretty much it. i've drawn it, too!

so have some fun design details!

the Puppet's "mask" is just the cat face. the material of the mask is some sort of hard plastic/rubber. it feels smooth, but not easily breakable. there's nothing really "under the mask," just the fabric of the "suit" part of the animatronic.

as sort of implied above, the animatronic doesn't have eyes under the mask; just fabric. the animatronic itself can't see. but Dee can. the glowing eyes are a result of Dee possessing it.

taller than Henry (5'11"), but shorter than Dave (7'5"). the Puppet is close to around 6'8". it is Tall.

so. Henry was very much aware of how much Dee wanted him dead, so he came up with "safety measures" (aka Ways To Keep This Six Year Old From Killing Him). these included, in order of how they were supposed to work, the Music Box (originally used to force the Puppet into some form of "day mode" so that Dee couldn't do anything; Henry never gave the Puppet any sort of regular "day mode," considering it was only built to contain Dee's soul and keep her out of trouble. Dee ended up just used the Music Box to keep herself from getting overstimulated), strings on her limbs (these kept her in the Box, or at least from getting too far out of it, while still able to move her arms a bit (since the Puppet gives gifts to children); Jack ended up cutting the strings in '83, in an attempt at trying to free his sister), and finally, a fuck ton of bells attached to ribbons (if all else failed, he'd at least be able to hear her coming before getting ambushed).

Dee herself mostly uses the bells for stimming purposes. Listen. Sound Is Good Sound. she just likes the noise they make. it also annoyed the shit out of Henry, mostly because he had to hear JINGLEJINGLEJINGLEJINGLEJINGLE from where Dee would shake her head around to get the bells on her ears to ring. those two absolutely despised each other.

the tears were not originally a part of the mask. they slowly started to run down her face more and more over the years. it's a product of Dee possessing the Puppet for such a long time.

the mask isn't supposed to be able to move. the expression was meant to be a permanent open-eyed smiling expression. the mask isn't meant to be malleable in any way. Henry Doesn't Know How Dee Fucking Does That.

Dee can make the Puppet stand on it's tippy toes to make it about three to four inches taller (6'11"-7'0"), and she does so often.

the ribbons, being pastel green and pink, almost seem out of place with the rest of the Puppet's "aesthetic"; more muted and dull colors. i'd say that it would almost be intentional; gives the Puppet a "Something's Not Right" vibe.

Dee made a small tongue for the Puppet out of an old piece of fabric. she can't taste with it, just Blep :p

that's all that's really coming to mind. in short: Cat Puppet Dee :]

- dee-in-the-box

I ADORE THESE....... SO SILLY SO CUTE. Honestly also heartwarming for her to actually have some form of stimulation while stuck in there. Henry be damned jingle that shit cat girl ‼️ also her making a tongue is sooo so cute too... Bleeh....... Getting silly w it 🫡

[b1gwings]

hi yall :D we gave it our all, glenn fans. it was a good run & we worked rlly hard but a congratulations to Carlos is DEFINITELY in order ! well done :]

i want to say that being part of the dndads community has been such a blast -- since joining, everyone I've spoken to has been incredibly kind and supportive and honestly i had SUCH a fun time campaigning for glenn. I've drawn more in these last three days than i have, like, this entire year, and I'm genuinely super thankful that I was able to remember how fun it is to just make something for shits n giggles. to be a part of something for the fun of it

as for the requests that are still in my inbox, I will get to them!!! I won't be taking any more now that the poll is over, though. Full disclosure, it may take me a little while to get to everyone because finals week for me starts in four days (ToT)

EITHER WAY!!! THANK YOU EVERYONE !!! I had such a blast. I love this community with all my heart & i'm so glad

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ how did this hit 1000wd? i'm just so happy for him!!!!!

Hen & Buck celebrate Pride. with a side of Karen my wife

for a kiss on the cheek

also on AO3

-

Mara runs ahead of them in the crowd, with little mesh fairy wings bobbing around on her back matching Jee-Yun who runs along beside her.

“Mom says not too far!” Denny calls after them, then looks back at his moms. “Hey, can we get icecream?”

“Excuse me?”

He pulls a face, exasperated. “Can we get icecream, please?”

Hen and Karen share a look. A your son's fourteen years is showing. But they can't help but smile; he's still their son, and even if he slips up on his ps and qs he still wants to include his sister and baby cousin a good time and that's the more important thing.

“Of course, yes,” Hen agrees, and digs into her bag. “Let me just find the -”

“Icecream?” pipes a voice from behind. “Hey, Uncle Buck's got this one.”

He hands over some notes as he catches back up from where he was lingering at one of the stalls.

“Hey now,” Hen warns, once Denny has said his thank yous and bounded out of ear shot, “they don't dip the stuff in gold, you know.”

“Uncle Buck better slow down now that he's got four kids hitting up his wallet,” Karen adds.

“Eh. Uncle Buck's feeling festive.” He can't wipe the smile off his face. It's like his heart is beating out of his chest with it and he can't stand still. “You know, I've been to Fair Day before, but I haven't been before. It's a lot. It's kinda crazy. All the different names and flags and stuff – how did you guys pick one?”

Hen isn't dressed particularly flag-y today; just dark shorts and a grey tank top with GIRLS printed across it in varying shades of pink. Karen on the other hand, has decked herself out in a brown blouse and a maxi skirt with varying pink rings that scream walking lesbian pride flag. It looks so natural for them, and fun, and well, if Buck's going to be doing this every year as a card carrying Member Of The Community, he'd like to dress the part. So far he's found a button up in thick vertical rainbow stripes that hangs open over his white tee shirt. It's a fun selection. But there's so much here and so many people having fun with it – they're on stilts! they're on enamel pins! they're everywhere! - it makes him want to cover his house and his car and everything he owns in the stuff.

Hen and Karen smile. They remember what it was like and for Buck, finding out older, and when there's more options with more visibility behind them than ever, and especially being Buck, king of the 4am wiki rabbit hole, the feeling must be even more intense.

“Don't overthink it, Buckaroo,” Hen advises. She pulls him over to a nearby stall, advertising face painting to raise money for rural queer mental health outreach. There's a big board of an array of flags, and little buckets with enamel pins and temporary pun-heavy tattoos. “The big secret is: everyone will try and argue about it forever. That's the double edged sword of community. You know what all these mean, right?”

“Most of them, yeah.”

“Yeah. And you know you've always got old reliable.” She gestures toward the top row of the board, which feature the classic Pride flag, the Philidelphia and the Progress flags. “But if you want to get more specific – what does your gut tell you?”

“That one.”

It's the one he has saved at the top of his tabs list. The one his eye has been drawn back to all day. He's been reading definitions on definitions on definitions and each one only seems to fit better than the last. Of course, it's that one.

“But what if it's wrong? What if it changes?”

“Then... you're out ten dollars, some kid in Alturas gets some help, and you know yourself better.”

“It's that easy, huh?”

“Hey.” Hen shrugs. “You're the one who invited your first gay kiss to your sisters wedding. Seems like you're rolling with the punches pretty well. Wanna do it?”

“Okay!” The irrepressible smile is back, and Hen finds herself beaming back at him.

“Okay!” she cheers, and turns to the attendant. “Andrea, hey! Can we get some bi flag paint for my friend here, please?”

“And you owe her for some lesbian hearts for your beautiful wife,” Karen points out, batting her eyelids to show off the trail painted up her cheek.

“Good choice,” Andrea says. She flicks her hair back over her shoulder and it's painfully flirtatious, the way she drags her eyes over him. Andrea has a bi flag of her own painted on one cheek, and gems in the colours of the rainbow on the other, highlighting her wicked cheekbones. She's got long, beautiful mahogany hair and she's tall and toned and yeah, he's most definitely still into women. Buck preens a little as she sets to work – he can't help it; he doesn't maintain this not to show it off just a little. Even if he can feel Hen and Karen rolling their eyes at him just out of sight.

When she's finished, Andrea holds a little mirror up for him to see and yeah, it just feels right. Then she turns him around to present him back to them and they look so goddamn happy for him he might cry. They might cry. Somebody might cry.

They grab each others' hands fiercely instead.

“Can we take a photo?”

Yes, please yes! He nods. Karen pulls out her phone but Hen beats her to it, and at the same time slings her free arm around him and pulls his face down to kiss his empty cheek. She snaps a selfie of the both of them.

She sends it to him later, a link to her Instagram post. It's captioned: Welcome to the family. PROUD of you Buck. And three hearts – pink, purple, blue.

[therummesoccupied]

IDW'S SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, SPRING BROKEN SPECIAL - THOUGHTS

A while back, it became pretty clear that the abundant specials IDW has been releasing for the past year have had a certain... "commonality" about them. Endless Summer, A Very Chaotix Halloween, Winter Jam - the Four Seasons theming read loud and clear. Now, up until a couple months ago, I'd assumed the 900th Adventure Special was meant to be the stand-in for Spring in this lineup, so I was a bit surprised when Spring Broken was announced to round the seasonal specials off. I was interested to see what kind of send-off they'd give this little gaggle of stories.

This time around, we have pencils by Adam Bryce Thomas and colors by Leonardo Ito. These two are a really great combo, as I think Ito's emphasis on simple, soft color palettes compliments the very manga-esque style Adam brings to the table. This style, however, leaves me a little confused as to why he, of all artists, was the one pulled for this story.

ABT tends to be at his best when working on big, over-the-top action sequences. His work really sells the sense of adrenaline the series is trying to convey in its tensest moments. That being said, the story here is... fairly mundane? The characters spend a day at the fair and solve a mystery about flowers. Heck, the entire last couple pages are entirely dedicated to showing the characters enjoying the attractions once all is said and done.

There's not really a ton here in the way of high-stakes plot that would really give Adam a chance to shine.

That being said, there's still enough here that you can see his art style noticably developing a bit in a manner akin to Evan Stanley's. Namely in the way he draws Sonic himself.

It might just be my imagination, here, but I could swear Sonic's quills are longer and come to a more distinct point than the way Adam usually draws them. We know Evan has been taking strides to incorporate elements of official 2D Sonic art into her artstyle, perhaps this is a sign that Adam has been doing the same. Beyond that, I think I'm noticing some more fun and stretchy facial expressions on some of these characters, too. When it comes to the way faces are drawn, I've always found that ABT has a tendency to stay pretty on-model, but here I'm seeing a bit more expressive warping of the facial proportions than I'd expect out of Adam.

Where Adam really knocks it out of the park here, though, is with the background character designs.

Adam's always good at drawing up unique OCs, and there are tons of 'em here. Having so many characters with so many looks and still having a consistent style to them all goes a long way toward helping the world feel just a little more lived in. Another cool bit of background work he contributed is this central figure that pops up in a few places around the festival.

Also I just noticed that Cream and Vanilla are here. Neato.

When asked about this figure on Twitter, ABT said that she's intended to be a sort of Nature Spirit, and that the festival pays reverence to her. She's never mentioned in the story, but it's a neat little detail to see the more spiritual side of this world's cultures.

As I said before, the story, written by Josh Trujillo, is not too incredibly exciting. The majority of the plot centers around the mystery behind the annual Flower Contest, which itself is really three mysteries, all of which are wrapped up pretty quickly. Really, it seems to be less about the mystery, and more about how these characters spend their free time in a sort of slice-of-life fashion. This is fine, and it shows us some neat character interactions we don't normally get to see, like Jewel and Espio or Amy and Nite, but it's also something we've been getting a lot of lately.

It almost makes me wonder, with the amount of miniseries and specials they've been putting out there recently, if it wouldn't be possible, and maybe a better use of resources, to just run a dedicated sister series devoted to telling side stories like Sonic Universe did for Archie.

I'm not the first person to make this point, but perhaps then we could get more big, exciting plots full of stakes and gravitas in the main book. Who knows.

All in all, Spring Broken didn't particularly blow me away. I'd say it's a nice break from the norm but... it's not. It's exactly the kind of story we've frankly been getting in surplus as of late. I'm ready for things to move again, ready for the non-stop, blood-pumping action of Sonic the Hedgehog! There are some cute moments here and there that I do appreciate, but I just wish they could have come at a different time.

Issue #70 drops in about 22 hours for me, so with any luck, that will scratch my itch for more exciting Sonic stories for a bit.

'Til then, thanks for reading!

[little-paperboat]

Get to know me (tag game)

I'm super late for this one, but I've merged two sets of questions, thank you @savriea & @dutifullylazybread for the tag! I'm very happy 🌸

Do you make your bed? —I do - or I try to, I feel better when it's done and it makes me feel like I can move on with my day 🫡 Exceptions are for when I'm late, but then I would do it before going to bed!

Favourite number? — 5 (but 3 or 7 also work) (I like odd numbers in general)

What's your job? — I quit my job a few weeks ago sooo at the moment unemployed fanfic writer I guess 🤠

If you could go back to school, would you? — I think so! I would love to go back to study something I really like without the pressure of earning the degree since I already have one, and then take the time to actually learn and discuss the topics rather than to focus on grades.

Can you parallel park? — In theory, yes, I can. In practice... maybe? I don't drive often, so when I have to park I try to make it as easy as I can for myself (so not parallel park)

Do you think aliens are real? — Yes, I think it'd be quite sad if we were the only form of life in the universe

Can you drive a manual car? — Yes!

What's your guilty pleasure? — Cheesy romance and romcoms, I'm down baaaad for it, especially the 90s ones

Tattoos? — Not yet, mostly because I'm too indecisive on what to get and where haha

Favourite color? — Red, then shades of purples, blues and greens :)

Favourite type of music? — Taylor Swift definitely, but otherwise I love pop-rock and instrumental/classical soundtracks from games and movies

Do you like puzzles? — Ehhh, I can do puzzles to pass the time but I'm not drawn to them otherwise. If I can't get it quickly it tends to annoy me 🥲

Any phobias? — Yeah, spiders :(

Favourite childhood sport? — I had a complex relationship with sports as a kid so I don't think I had any really? But I loved to run around and play hide and seek if that counts lol

Do you talk to yourself? — Occasionally, when I need to "hear" the steps in a process or to guide myself through something step by step. Sometimes I do it when I'm in a very good mood too!

What movie(s) do you adore? — Oh! Lords of the Ring trilogy is my absolute fave of all time, then the Ghibli movies, Pride & Prejudice (2005), and I cannot think of others at the moment although I'm sure there's at least like 20 more haha

Coffee or tea? — Tea always, but in recent years I've learned to like coffee (although I love the smell more than the taste)

First thing you wanted to be growing up? — A teacher! And I'm kinda glad I didn't choose this path now 😬

Last song I listened to — guilty as sin 🤍

Current obsession— Rolan 👀 and BG3 in general ❤️

Last thing I Googled — my dentist's phone number lol

Favorite Season — Autumn, when the leaves are red and gold and the sky is still blue 🍁

Skill I'd like to learn — Drawing! I've just started to take art classes and I'm super motivated (and to finally be able to draw all my Tavs! and their partners hihi)

Best advice — trust yourself and do things for yourself first and foremost (drawing, writing, etc etc); don't try to match people's expectations and do things at your own pace, life's not a race :)

Currently watching — waiting for Bridgerton part 2, so in the meantime I'm rewatching the classic period drama movies (P&P, Emma, etc.)

Currently reading — Quoting this from @savriea because it's exactly my answer too lmao

— A stupidly long list of BG3 fanfics as my "to read" books sit gathering dust on my bookshelf.

Relationship status — taken, four years already :)

Sweet/Savory/Spicy — sweet all the way with a side of savoury, spicy food is a no-go however, I cannot handle spices 😱

no pressure tags for the lovely @sleketon666 @kimberbohwrites @poetryvampire 🌸 (feel free to ignore if you've already done it!!)

[cure-icy-writes]

You run into Trouble near the fruit section of the grocery store, perusing the vegetables with a smug grin like she knows something you don't.

"Hear that?" she says, gesturing at the ever-present overhead speakers. They're playing something that's about as close to punk as you can get on the radio in an alternative grocery store, but pales in comparison to your actual music tastes. "My boyfriend got a pretty big record deal. I helped him write that song, you know."

Despite your better judgement, you're impressed. It's toned down and radio friendly, but the technical skill is good. The lyrics, though... eh, you've heard better. "Your boyfriend must be pretty good, then."

"He is; have you heard of him? I mean, probably not, you don't seem the type to," she says, then launches into an explanation of the punk genre.

The thing is. You're into punk already. You like death grips and metallica and rise against, and the grunge teens screaming their hearts out at a little venue down the street from your apartment that you like to visit on weekends.

But, well, ever since becoming a single parent, you haven't had the time to get into the fashion scene. Hell, going grocery shopping without the baby is practically a vacation for you. But you have long hair, put in a neat bun that you learned from your ballet days, and a pink sweatshirt and leggings, so the woman's probably made up her mind about you already.

It's only when she mentions his full name that you stop and pay attention.

"Wait, did you say-- I think I went to high school with him, actually," you tell her, blinking. It's been four years since you graduated, and between the joint pain from years of intensive ballet classes and the marriage and subsequent divorce, you feel so much older than your age. You give the woman your name, and ask if her boyfriend remembers you.

Her expression turns...sour. You have a feeling you've made a mistake, like when you were younger and still pretending to be something you weren't. Back in high school, your looks and dignified way of talking drew a lot of clique types to you, the kind that tried to make you into one of them. She seems like the opposite of those girls, but their equal, somehow.

"Is that so. Well, he actually has mentioned an old flame by your name," she says tersely.

"It was high school; besides, you've got nothing to worry about," you reassure her. You decide not to mention that you maybe liked him too; your so-called friends at the time hated the way he always dressed in oversized hand-me-downs, but you were drawn to him somehow, for his diligence at skateboarding and the devil-may-care attitude he wore like armor. "I've got a kid at home and no time for dating anyways."

"Well," the woman says, saccharine sweet, "Maybe you should check out one of his concerts? He's touring in town, you know."

There's definitely something off about her. But you've been keeping an eye on the local music scene anyways, and if nothing else, maybe the opening acts will be promising. You check out the guy's music on MTV, chat with some of your friends, and there's already a group planning to go.

Well, okay, you've been trying to keep an eye on the local music scene. You slip out of it sometimes and forget, or get busy with parenting, and the little bug has been learning to crawl and keeping you insanely busy trying to baby-proof every possible surface.

It's a nice break, honestly, when you hire a babysitter and attend the show. You're looking forward to it, even. Except everything, all of the sudden, goes wrong. Your high school crush starts the concert by inviting his girlfriend up for a special song where she'll sing the vocals, and the lyrics sound more and more familiar. Details that she shouldn't know. Details that... oh. Has she been gossipping with your old 'friends' from high school? It's been years. Why is she still so hung up on this? You never even dated the guy, and she's singing some spiteful song about how she thinks you're stupid and shallow for.... what, 'turning him down' back in high school? If anything, she's the shallow one, for only dating him once he got famous.

But somehow you're the villain here? It's so, so fucked up, and the concert was supposed to be an escape. But here's this weird heteronormative jealous lady, on stage, singing about her beloved "Sk8er Boi" and how they rock each other's world.

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober Day 24:

"I've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule."

Goodbye note | Neglect | "I thought they were with you."

Fandom: Scoobydoo

Prompts used: all

So this ones a little drawn out, a little less on screen whump. A look into Mystery inc's not so perfect lives from teens vague perspectives. I'm basically writing the same thing over and over, because the headcanons are too good to change much. I refused to write Scoobys speech impediment though, I am surely doing it injustice, and it's terribly hard on my tired brain.

TW for implied abuse, Neglect and running away from home.

…

Rich kids, poor kids, middle class kids, no matter where you fall, there can be crap to deal with.

High society was fine for Daphne Blake, she shopped where she wanted, she always had food, she had a car-

She was exhausted.

Any club or extra curricular you could name, she's done. She gives everything 210% in the hopes that something will make her parents look her way.

She'd failed so far.

Shaggy Rogers hated high society, too much pressure and too many snobs. He'd been forced into so many clubs as a kid, he ended up hating everything except track.

He tried to do anything to keep his parents out of his business, to get them off his back, to block out their suffocating words. He spent time with Daphne- which was so easy, but his parents didn't need to know that- he did his school work, he went to track meets, he did anything and everything to be good and invisible to them, to get them to stop asking for more.

He'd failed so far.

Fred Jones loved his parents. He thinks… It was hard to love people he never saw for more than an hour over the course of a month. Their love for adventure didn't stop cause they had a kid, and Fred was happy for them, but the house- already rather small- felt like a box closing in on him every moment he spent there alone.

He did what he could, to keep himself occupied, to get himself some spending money- for all his parents' love of adventure, they mostly just had great luck and jobs that traveled. Fred did everything, so the house wouldn't crush him at night.

He'd failed so far.

Velma Dinkley's parents didn't quite understand Velma. It frustrated her most of the time, being forced into a bubble she never wanted to be in. She just didn't feel things the same way, didn't always say what she meant, her dad called her mean, and her mom ignored it and pretended she was her pretty little perfect daughter.

She distances herself as much as she's able, she doesn't give in to the pressure of disappointed sighs. She hangs out with Fred Jones, because he doesn't mind being her partner in class and makes her think about what she says. She tries to convince herself that the thought of going home isn't exhausting, that she can handle it.

She'd failed so far.

They're all just shy of 18, senior year, and they finally find themselves in the same place together. They've had interactions of different pairs/groupings, but now they're all four face to face. Well 5, if you include the dog, which they should since he was of the talking type and would get offended otherwise.

They'd all individually decided to solve the same mystery. It was the biggest- and only noteworthy- mystery of the town. Daphne just knew this would impress her parents- or she'd get to punch a ghost. Where Daphne went, Shaggy was bound to end up one way or the other, a little food was the best bribe, and Scooby was by his side and Daphne was in front of him, he had nothing better to do. Velma was unconvinced it was a real ghost- though she now knew a talking dog so- but whether it was or wasn't, she could hone her skills and hope for a challenge to solve. Fred couldn't very well let Velma go alone- he didn't have enough money to bail her out of jail if she decided to fight someone or trespass- and he was always looking for exciting things to keep him from home, and if there was a ghost, they'd need a trap.

To find other teens willing to go ghost hunting at a questionable hour in an abandoned fairground, was not what they'd expected however.

"Daphne Blake and Shaggy Rogers, I wouldn't expect to find people of your standing out here." Velma will say it came out better than it would have, but still harsher than what she'd meant.

She didn't mean, 'why are you rich as*e* in a sketchy field?' She meant, 'You guys do a lot at school, how did your parents let you out of the house to do this tonight?' Before either she or Fred can add to it however, Shaggy answers,

"I figure if there's gonna be any screaming tonight, it'd be like better if I can get some out first before I go home." Shaggy seems more mellow than he does at school, hand running over the dog- Scooby's- head.

"I'm gonna punch a ghost." Daphne states plainly, glaring at Shaggy when he elbows her, "and hopefully get into the paper, my dad reads that every morning." She adds reluctantly, turning to make her way into the fairgrounds.

"Do you mind if we join you guys?" Fred asks quickly, as Shaggy and Scooby follow the red head.

"Sure, a bigger group may attract the ghost!" She calls over her shoulder.

"We do not need help." Velma tells Fred.

'I do not feel comfortable.'

"Don't worry Velm, if we work together you'll have more time to do the fun stuff." Fred smiles, throwing an arm over her shoulders to guide her towards the other teens.

There is no ghost. Just an old man who wanted cheap land. But for a moment, it seemed as if there was one, a clue here or there that didn't quite add up. They all bounced off each other well, Shaggy understood what Velma meant and even seemed to appreciate her bluntness occasionally. Daphne listened to what she had to say, and pointed out things the girl missed- finding signs and meanings from seemingly random things that weren't actually random. Freds elaborate traps were easier done with three added people- and easier to shrink down to an easier one with three arguments to why they didn't need a flamethrower Fred.

They do get their picture taken for the paper, to be released in the morning somehow, but for the rest of their night, they take Shaggy's suggestion and find the 24 hour diner for milkshakes and snacks. They don't realize they need to wind down until they're sitting in a corner booth and their hands shake as they hold their menus.

"I don't want to go home." Shaggy murmurs after a few milkshakes and three plates of food.

"You could come to mine." Daphne responds, "Not like my parents will notice." She adds under her breath, slouching because she knows her mom hates it.

"So you meant it before, about the yelling?" Fred ventured cautiously, playing with the straw in his drink.

Shaggy shrugs,

"They say I've got a head full of chemicals, but their mouths are still full of ridicule. I had to like… fight to get my meds, but they hate it. Hate…" He trails off, shoulders curling inwards as he thumbs a bruise on his wrist. "It's whatever."

"It is not. Your parents suck and I hate them." Daphne glowers at the straw wrapper she's mangling, since she can't touch his parents.

"So do yours." Shaggy counters, leaning on her shoulder some.

"You guys could come to my house. I… don't have a lot of room, but it's empty anyways. Parents wouldn't even notice if you slept in their room." Fred puts in, nudging Velma to include her in the offer.

"My mother would lock me up if she knew I'd stayed at your place." Velma says with a huff.

Daphne sits straighter,

"So you stayed at my house." She says, eyes gleaming. "And I stayed at yours if mine bothered to ask. And Shaggy was at Freds."

"Idk Daph, they'll already be pissed tonight…" Shaggy looks like he wants nothing more than to say yes, but a fear lingers in his eyes.

"Well, if they're going to yell anyway…" Velma re-uses Shaggy's earlier reasoning, and suddenly it's like they've all been friends for years and this is totally ordinary behavior for them.

Like, 'Of course we're gonna lie to our parents about where we are and have a sleepover at Freds.' Like there isn't the likely chance of real consequences in a couple of their futures, but it doesn't matter in this moment. And as they gather at Freddys house, they come up with more plans, more 'of course's!' Because they get along like a house on fire, and smooth eachothers edges and calm eachothers nerves and boost each other's confidences. By the end of their night, after hearts laid bare- bruises on display, feeling gross and out there, tears shed and shouts shouted- they have the vaguest of plans.

Several days later, finds phone calls from panicked- re; angry- parents to one another.

"I thought they were with you!" Mr. Rogers accuses Mr. Blake.

"Why in good heavens would I allow my daughter to have two boys stay the night??"

"Well what about my sweet baby Velma?? She said she was at Daphnes!" Mrs. Dinkley is in tears, she had plans for them! Mommy daughter plans!

"Norville said he would be at Fredricks house dear." Mrs. Rogers cuts in, voice devoid of anything.

"Oh my. Well they could have been I suppose… let me look." Mrs. Jones mutters all the way to her son's room, jetlag weighing heavy on her mind, she had wanted to sleep when she'd arrived, not deal with this. "Oh look, a note, let me get my glasses-"

"Hurry up woman!" Mr. Rogers yells, he was late for work dammit!

"Alright alright, so fussy, I have a headache… hm, Dear adults- so informal- Dear Adults,

We have left. If you are reading this, we've been gone for nearly a week without your notice. As we are nearly adults ourselves, we decided we weren't going to put up with your sh*t anymore. If you want to check on us, watch the News, we'll be making history with our new 'Mystery Solving' gig.

Goodbye forever probably,

~Velma, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred

"Oh there's a paw print too, how festive."

The angry yells last for long hours and weeks after. Police read the note and do indeed find them on the News, they inform the parents there's not much they can do. They warn them, an investigation may garner… worse results than they hope for.

The threat is clear.

The members of Mystery Inc. Smile.

[69fever]

_

my love letter to you, my boyfriend

💌

-

i am infatuated with you. ever since i was 13 years old, it has always been you. i don't know what it is. i'm just so undeniably drawn to you, i can't escape it. and i don't want to escape it. i don't want to run from this or from you. in a way, it scares me. the feeling is so deep and simply intense that it's panicking. i have never felt this way about anyone before, part of me wanted to run from it to avoid any heartbreak, but if all things backfire, i now see that loving you will always be worth it, no matter the cost. remember that poem i wrote you, all those months ago, and the line reads "consume me, please", i meant that with every part of my soul. i'm so utterly consumed by you that it is suffocating. not a single day goes by where you don't cross my mind. not a single hour or a single minute for that matter. to quote tyler the creator in the song "ifhy": "10 minutes can't go past without you brushing my thoughts, that's 1440 a day so i'll say a hundred and forty-four times i think about you".

i can't help but truly believe that you are my twin flame. our connection just feels so intense, it feels like it goes deeper than just love and emotion. like i feel it in my soul and in my whole being, like i belong with you. we were born on the same day. we are so alike but simultaneously, so entirely different. you are my other half completely. i will never be able to find a connection like this with anyone else, and i know that for a fact. i will never be able to find something as this meaningful and special to me. you are simply irreplaceable. you have made an irreversible mark on my heart that, no matter what, i will never be able to get rid of. you are my starboy.

i can't throw this away. i can't let this go, i know that it is too special to be given up on. i want to fight for it and i want to fight for you. i want to understand you, i want to know you in and out and know everything about you. every single small thing, what annoys you and what thrills you. what you love and what you hate. what your favourite thing to do first thing in the morning and your favourite thing to do last thing before you go to sleep. i feel like i know you, but i want to know more.

recently, i have only been recalling the bad things that has happened between us and the negatives, and i'm sure you feel the same way to some extent. when really, our relationship was so enchanting and positive. i've experienced some of my biggest life moments with you, and we've been through so much together.

i never expected any of this to happen and i still wonder what went wrong. it was such a whirlwind and it's been quite literally an emotional rollercoaster. in a way though, i think it has been good for me, and i hope it has benefitted you as well. i feel alive again, i feel like i have a life again, i appreciate life once more and i want to live. i want you to be apart of my life again. i've learnt a lot through this experience and i have learnt a lot from you and you've motivated me to be a better version of myself. i want to prove myself to you and be better than before. i want to protect you and comfort you again, i want you fall asleep in my arms and to feel safe with me and to wake up together. i want to laugh with you and i want to cry with you.

i appreciate you more than life itself and i care for you with my whole heart. i love every part of you, physically and mentally. i love the way that you see life and how you think. i admire you so entirely and i respect you. you are genuinely the most magnetic, beautiful, interesting, amazing and coolest person i have ever met.

-

certified lover girl. ♡

[notquitecogent]

Find The Word Tag Game

Ok I am shockingly late to the party on this one because Life™ and my desire to write being at an all-time low, but I've been tagged by 3 lovely people so here we go <3 The Rules: find the suggested words in your WIPs and post snippets, then tag others to do the same with words of your choice!

Tagged by: @astorytotellyourfriends to find lose, tear, accept, and shake. I couldn't find lose or accept in any WIPs, but I did find shake and tear (sort of).

Tear, from a fortune teller WIP, which also involves a costume party. This bit is set at a fair, a prelude to the meet-cute with Chrissy, I guess? (Not really a meet-cute, more a meet-awkward):

Perhaps Eddie would have noticed what was about to happen next if he hadn’t been so busy laughing at his own joke. Instead, he completely missed Carver's pointed nod at two of the jocks, and the four large hands instantly grabbing the back of his jacket. 

Shit shit shit.

Years of trailer park muscle memory taught him he had about half a second to shrug off the leather and run for the hills, and he barely had time to yell at the rest of Hellfire to book it too before he was tearing his way through the crowd towards – well, something. Anything.

***

Shake, from an untitled little ditty where Chrissy gets injured at cheer practice and ends up hanging out with Eddie while she's recovering:

“Are you ok, Chris?” Melinda asks, and there’s an ugly, hopeful note in her voice; she’s Chrissy’s alternate, and in the zero-sum game of high school cheerleading, that means she’ll be the one tossed in the air at Regionals two weeks from now. 

“Fine,” says Chrissy, through gritted teeth. “It’s just a sprain.” 

Everyone’s looking at her as Julie sprints back from Coach’s office, dusty first aid kit in hand. 

“The nurse left already, but you should try to keep it elevated,” she says, breathless, and Chrissy kind of has to marvel at the efficiency; Julie Michaels is good in a crisis. 

She tries not to shake as Julie eases off her sneaker (scuffed, Christine, look at the state of you) and then her sock, wincing as she presses against a tender muscle. 

“It doesn’t look broken, I think,” says the younger girl, chewing her lip.

~~~

Tagged by: @majicmarker to find bright, heart, laugh, and sweet, or any variation of the above. 

Bright and sweet from an unfinished sequel/companion to ‘baby i’m yours now (dreaming a connection)’: 

Was it just him, or was the sun shining a little brighter, a little warmer that day than was usual for summer in Hawkins, Indiana? Were the birds singing a little sweeter, the flowers blooming a little more colourful? Did everyone else see that day through a gauzy halcyon haze, or was it just the fucking bliss of kissing Chrissy, of holding Chrissy, of being loved by Chrissy that was doing that to him?

~~~

Heart from ‘does it feel like magic?’, my stupid attempt at a magical AU which is going to become a roommate AU (I've realised I only really like writing oneshots that don’t diverge too far from canon, as I *immediately* lose grasp of the character’s voices and motivations and shove in a bunch of thinly drawn OCs and then hate myself). Anyway, this is from chapter 3:

“Look, I’m not saying forever – just until my lease ends and you find a place you actually like.”

Eddie punctuates the sentence by slicing open another bag of ice cubes and clattering them into the tray. 

“I won’t like it?”

“Well, the view’s not great, but the rent is high.”

“Really selling it to me.”

She bites her lip as she sets down the paring knife and turns toward him. “What’s my roommate like?” 

He grins. “Horrifically messy. Perpetually stoned. Plays terrible music very loud.”

Chrissy pantomimes looking thoughtful, bringing one pink-tipped fingernail up to her lip as she hmmms exaggeratedly. 

“Can he cook?”

“Not even slightly." 

“Perfect,” she winks, and he feels his heart thud in his chest. 

Yeah, this is probably a terrible idea, actually. 

~~~

Laugh and sweet from the fortune teller WIP:  

She’d tried so hard to be sweet, hoping he’d just drop it and move on. He reminded her of her mother sometimes – of walking on cracked ice.

Jason ruffled her hair. “You’ll have me for that, hon,” and he’d said it so fondly that she’d tried to ignore the sinking feeling that crept under her ribs and stayed there.

~~~

Over her shoulder, the boys were crowing as Jason burst the last balloon and selected his prize – a gold plastic trophy, which he held aloft like a talisman before a group of other high schoolers pushed past him. One of them – a guy with long hair in a leather jacket – said something that made the others burst out laughing and Jason’s face erupt into fury.

Chrissy had never felt less like going to his side. 

^^^

Tagged by: @erythromanc3r to find right, laugh, carry and fear. I couldn't find carry or fear.

Right from the fortune teller WIP:

Suddenly, someone flung the drapes open. The strong scent of clove cigarettes followed them in. 

“Don’t touch the cards,” said a raspy voice. 

Chrissy looked up at the fortune teller ('Madame Le Fay', apparently), taking in a dark head of hair with a livid streak of white at the temple, a pair of bright green eyes lined with kohl, and cracked lips slicked with red lipstick. Her hands were clustered with heavy, tarnished gold rings and tipped with dirty fingernails.

Madame Le Fay looked back, and her gaze seemed to pierce right through Chrissy’s skin. 

^^^

Laugh from the sex pollen WIP 😈 :

And, in fact, the weed was definitely living up to its description; her body did feel pleasantly loose, the air thick and heavy against her skin, almost like she’d been dipped in a jar of honey. The air smelled sweeter, too – unlike the usual skunky scent, these joints had a sort of soft, floral-y perfume that seemed to linger in her hair and clothes, mixing with Eddie’s usual tobacco and leather, and that kind of sweat only boys seemed to produce.

She breathed deeply through her nose. 

Eddie let out a low, rumbling laugh. “Are you sniffing me, Cunningham?” 

Chrissy blushed as her hands flew to her face, giggling through splayed fingers. “You smell nice."

I'm tagging: @chrissy-n-eddie @thedarkestgreys @carry-the-sky @a-strange-inkling (not sure if you've been tagged already?? I'm so bad at keeping track of these things! feel free to ignore if so) to find shoulder, night, twist and sound.

[curiouslyodd]

I waited 4 years to be assessed for ADHD.

I knew I most likely had it - my symptoms and experiences were basically the classical presentation of untreated inattentive ADHD from childhood. When I realised (thanks Tumblr!), I asked to be seen about it as soon as I was able to. That was four years ago. It was meant to be less than three years at most.

Last month, I was finally seen for an assessment. It was a relatively short video call session - apart from the assessor having to ask me to stop talking several times, it went smoothly. At the end, it was cut and dry - I've been formally diagnosed with ADD/ADHD (inattentive). He said I'd be sent some letters and be transferred to another department for treatment, and ended the call.

I rang the department today - it's been a month and I was wondering when I'd get more details about what was happening.

The receptionist was lovely and very helpful - she said that there's a letter that will be sent out to me as soon as the doctor signs it.

But she also told me that the waiting list for treatment is another two years.

Two years.

I waited four years to be told something I already know, and now I have to wait *two more years* before I get any help with it.

The past few months I've been getting more and more despondent with my job search. My ADHD blocks me at every step. Remembering to look for postings, writing the applications, remembering to sort out stuff for the interview, actually preparing for the interview, doing anything at all in the meantime... ADHD gets in the way of it all. And that's not even touching what happens when I finally do get a job - bad focus days mean I'm constantly having to catch up, and running myself ragged the whole time. But I kept on with the job search, knowing that I was finally going to be seen for my ADHD and that I'd be getting treatment for it. I know that treatment isn't a magic fix, but the prospect of any improvement at all with my symptoms was a hopeful one.

But it turns out that treatment is still a long way off. And I might as well be stuck in limbo for the foreseeable future.

Let's face it - it's a coin toss as to whether the NHS will still exist in two years. And I expect the waiting time will only get longer.

I wanted to find a good, witty way of describing my feelings on the Tories and everyone else who has had a hand in destroying the NHS. But frankly, I just hope they all die in horrible, drawn out, excruciatingly painful ways.

[books-i-finished-reading]

(26)

City of Lost Souls - Cassandra Clare

( The mortal instruments - book 5/6 )

29th March 2023

Church was doing what he often did when dropped-lying on his back with all four legs in the air, pretending to be dead in order to induce guilt in his owners.

"He'd burn the whole world down till he could dig you out of the ashes. ..."

... she felt only half-there, most of her numb and the rest of her responding on autopilot.

"Basia coquum," Simon said. "Or whatever their motto is." "It's 'Descensus Averno facilis est.' 'The descent into hell is easy,' " said Alec. "You just said 'Kiss the cook." "Dammit," said Simon. "I knew Jace was screwing with me."

"Perhaps I did," said the Queen, ... "I've noticed the Fair Folk often say 'perhaps' when there is a truth they want to hide," Clary said. "It keeps you from having to give a straight answer." "Perhaps so," said the Queen with an amused smile. " 'Mayhap' is a good word too," Alec suggested. "Also 'perchance,' " Izzy said. "I see nothing wrong with 'maybe,' " said Simon. "A little modern, but the gist of the idea comes across."

Alec bit his lip. "What is this?" "It's a snuffbox," said Magnus, ... "Snuff? As in snuffing people out?" Alec eyed it.

"She wasn't very pleasant the last time I saw her. Of course that could be because I've got an eighteen-year-old boyfriend with a stamina rune and she doesn't." Alec sputtered. "As the person being objectified, I . . . object to that description of me."

Alec woke to Magnus's shaking his shoulder. "Come on, sweet pea," he said. "Time to rise and face the day." ... " 'Sweet pea'?" Alec said. "I was trying it out." Alec shook his head. "No." Magnus shrugged. "I'll keep at it."

" ... sometimes siblings understand more than parents. There's not the same weight of expectations."

Simon rolled his eyes. "It's a good thing we know the person who's dating Magnus," he said. "Otherwise, I get the feeling we'd all just lie around all the time wondering what the hell to do next. Or try to raise the money to hire Magnus by selling lemonade." Alec looked merely irritated by this comment. "The only way you could raise enough money to hire Magnus by selling lemonade is if you put meth in it."

"... I didn't want to be found. But I would have liked the idea that someone was looking for me ..."

"Saint Magnus's Home for Wayward Shadowhunters," he said in a deep voice. "Welcome." He threw an arm wide. "Spare bedrooms are that way. Wipe your boots on the mat."

"... I guess he wants their evil little duo to be an evil little trio." She shrugged. "Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian can't be the greatest company." "We don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble," said Magnus.

... Magnus began, ... the phone rang. "I'll get that. Who knows who else might be on the run from the Clave and need a place to stay? It's not like there are hotels in this city."

"... So-if you want it in vampire language-it affords me great pleasure, my liege, to say to you now: Hell, no."

"No," he said. "No, it isn't." Clary sat back. "You don't just get to say no." "This plan involves me! I get to say no! No." "Simon-" Simon patted the seat beside him as if someone were sitting there. "Let me introduce you to my good friend No." "Maybe we can compromise," she suggested,... "No." "SIMON." " 'No' is a magical word," he told her. "Here's how it goes. You say, 'Simon, I have an insane, suicidal plan. Would you like to help me carry it out?' And I say, 'Why, no.' "

"... we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; ..."

"I know about parabatai," said Magnus. "I've known parabatai so close they were almost the same person."

"To love as you choose, that takes strength."

"Blood isn't love,"

... as about as sexually threatening as a goldfish.

"Your parents aren't perfect, ... because no one's perfect. They're complicated people."

"... adversity tests one's strength of character. ... in dark times, some people shine."

"Dammit, woman, you read my mind," he said. "Is there no filthy wordplay you can't foresee?" "It's my special magical power. I can read your mind when you're thinking dirty thoughts." "So, ninety-five percent of the time." ... "Ninety-five percent? What's the other five percent?" "Oh, you know, the usual-demons I might kill, runes I need to learn, people who've annoyed me recently, people who've annoyed me not so recently, ducks." "Ducks?" He waved her question away. ... "Ducks?" she said again. ... "I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have."

"Well, not just any demon," said Magnus. "Azazel." Jocelyn's eyes blazed. "Azazel?" ... Simon just shrugged. "I don't know who Azazel is," he said. "Isn't he the cat from The Smurfs?" ... Clary? he thought. Her voice came through, tinged with alarm. What is it? What's happened? Did my mom find out I'm gone? Not yet, he thought back. Is Azazel the cat from The Smurfs? There was a long pause. That's Azrael, Simon. And no more using the magic rings for Smurf questions.

Simon glanced up from his hand and saw Magnus looking at him quizzically. "He's not a cat, Sylvester," he said. ...... "I have an idea," Simon said. He was sitting next to Magnus, ... "But you're not going to like it." "I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin." "Simon. My name is Simon." "Whatever." Magnus waved a slender hand. ...... Magnus's eyes went back to Alec. ... "Not my favourite topic, Smedley." "Simon," said Simon. ..... said Magnus ... "All right, everybody. Get over here. Sheldon's had an idea." "Who's Sheldon?" said Isabelle. ......... Magnus closed the book he was holding. "That's not a bad idea, Seamus." ... Magnus said. "I say we leave early afternoon. Sherlock-sorry, Simon-call and see if you can... ........ Magnus nodded... "Ready, Simon?" "Hey," said Simon. "You remembered my name."

... Alec, his eyebrows raised. "You slept in Isabelle's room?" Isabelle waved a hand. "No need to worry, big brother. Nothing happened. Of course," ... "I was totally passed-out drunk, so he could really have done whatever he wanted and I wouldn't have woken up." "Oh, please," said Simon. "All I did was tell you the entire plot of Star Wars." "I don't think I remember that," said Isabelle, ... "Oh, yeah? Who was Luke Skywalker's best childhood friend?" "Biggs Darklighter," Isabelle said immediately,...

"There's something appealing about the idea," ... "Of losing all your control. ..."

"... If I cannot have your loyalty, I will have your fear. ..."

"Special destinies and special torments,"

"I'm not used to you loving me,"

"I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to tell you the truth."

... opening the refrigerator and staring into it to see if anything worth eating had appeared.

... the music swelled louder. ... And sore by dawn were her dainty feet, But all the boys were gay. Isabelle snorted. "All the boys are gay. In this truck, anyway. Well, not you, Simon. "I think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual," added Magnus.

"It's not like a stab wound you can protect me from. It's a million little paper cuts every day."

Too much of anything could destroy you,... Too much darkness could kill you, but too much light could blind.

"... there's nothing stopping me from calling you up again and again, now that I know you can't kill me. Think of it as me leaning against your Heavenly doorbell . . . forever." Raziel, incredibly, seemed to chuckle at that. You are stubborn, he said.

... she raised her hand and slapped him across the face ... His eyes were all black, no pupil, like tunnels. "What's wrong, little sis? You look upset." She could barely catch her breath. "Cracked . . . my . . . nail polish slapping your . . . worthless face. See?" She showed him her finger-just one of them.

"... 'If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.' "

"Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's my boyfriend." He beamed and wiggled his fingers; blue sparks shot from them. He shone all over. Only Magnus, Simon thought resignedly, would have access to sequined battle armor.

... love given without free will or truthfulness wasn't love at all.

"I saw you fall," Alec said quietly. ... "I thought you were dead." Magnus smiled crookedly. "What, from that scratch?" He glanced down at the reddening jacket in Alec's hand. "Okay, a deep scratch. Like, from a really, really big cat." "Are you delirious?" Alec said. "No."

... between them they held the light of a star.

"... You go charging into every situation without knowing how the hell it's going to turn out, and then you get through it on sheer guts and craziness."

"How's Jordan?" ... "He and Maia are definitely together now. They're in that ooky stage where I feel like I should be giving them space all the time." ... "When she's not there, he frets about how he feels insecure because she's dated a bunch of dudes and he's spent the past three years doing military-style training for the Praetor and pretending he was asexual." ... "You know men. We have delicate egos." "I wouldn't describe Jace's ego as delicate." "No, Jace's is sort of the antiaircraft artillery tank of male egos," Simon admitted.

Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.

"... We're meant to protect each other, but not from everything. Not from the truth. That's what it means to love someone but let them be themselves."

"I fell in love with you," ... "because you were one of the bravest people I'd ever known. So how could I ask you to stop being brave just because I loved you?"

"... there's always been a piece of my soul missing, and it's inside you, ..."

[transmasc-wizard]

Writblr Intro 2: Electric Boogaloo

My name is Nico, my pronouns are he/him and it/its, and I'm a queer teen writer. I write mostly fantasy, with a dash of sci-fi and thriller.

Most of what I write is YA/teen, though I have ideas for other things (specifically middle grade & perhaps a NA story) that I may work on in the future.

I'm OK with adults following, but don't be creepy, and don't follow if your blog is specifically 18+.

This tumblr will be mostly writing content, along with some art, memes, social justice, and posts I just generally like. I also post writing advice, and my masterpost can be found here.

Some things: I am a queer inclusionist of all good-faith identities. I am autistic and am very passionate about disability activism, especially in regards to making writblr a more welcoming place for my fellow disabled & mentally ill people. I will not tolerate any sort of bigotry and am quick to block, though I will take questions in good faith and am glad to answer them.

about and fandoms

My Writing

[ID: a discord screenshot of something said by my friend, Mika. The sentence reads "tjis is so sick you are so twisted nciko". /end ID.]

I write mostly fantasy, often heavily featuring mental health, queerness, friendship, and morality. And as the lovely review above shows, I am not hesitant toward angst <3

Speaking of Mika, aka @strawberrystarcake: we run a short story event each month. I post a prompt, and then people write stories based on them. (I've written 2 so far.) The masterlist of all stories people have written for it (including me!) is here.

Now for my works-in-progress :D under the cut, for the sake of dashboards.

ACTIVE WIPS:

Gay Fairytale Series/GFS: This is a 5-book YA fantasy series that is a loose retelling of a few fairytales (mainly Cinderella). The books are, currently: Moonlit Blood, and... the other 4, lmao. I don't put titles online. (Summary for books 1 and 2 is below.)

Moonlit Blood, aka GFW1: When Angel Lavoie accidentally cons their way into having to do work, they must team up with four other dysfunctional criminals in order to crash a royal masquerade and steal the cage that houses the soul of a vengeful god-monster. Features themes of family, friendship, and self-worth. (intro)

GFS book 2, aka GFW2: Rowan never meant to be drawn into anything. But when, instead of dying like they were supposed to, Angel and their friends literally break magic, she doesn't really have a choice. Features themes of trust, betrayal, and doing the right thing.

The Rose Librarians: Eleanor finds a magic library in the middle of nowhere. It's all good at first, but when the library's secrets turn out to be darker than expected, she must team up with Charlie--the strange but knowing librarian--in order to keep herself alive. Features themes of depression, self worth, and coping mechanisms. (Intro.)

MOSTLY ACTIVE/SEMI-HIATUS WIPs (not currently being written, but are posted about semi-frequently):

Valarie Saintly is Totally Normal: Val saved the world 4 years ago. Now, she's running off with some sketchy new friends so she doesn't need to do it again. (Mack has just met this girl. She wants to use his car for her road trip. What could go wrong?) Urban fantasy, features themes of anxiety, pressure to be perfect, and self care. (Intro.)

The Intriguing Death of Thalia May/NT21: my NaNoWriMo 2021 project. Ace Acker has just been accepted into the best academy the country has to offer. But when people start disappearing and his ex-girlfriend's ghost comes back to yell at him about it, he realizes this will not be a normal senior year. (Intro.)

If you've read this far, that's very nice of you :D have a great day and drink some water!