#this has sat in my drafts so long i needed to just hit post

[bodiesinourcellar]

Strangers on a Train time

[eccentricallygothic]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[blushingreid]

Temporary Parents

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi bbs, it’s been so so long & I’m sorry :( Here’s a longer fic that’s been in the drafts for YEARS NOW LMAOOOOO (disclaimer: this was written before my like 3 yr hiatus, no proof read, just straight posted for y'alls enjoyment) Giving some type of dad vibes I think might've been a request, but enjoy & slide me some feedback ! <3

Gun drawn, Spencer cautiously entered the house and into the child’s bedroom. Y/n followed closely behind, her gun out, ready for any outcome. Hearing a shuffle coming from the closet, y/n grasped Spencer’s bicep to get his attention before silently signaling to the closet. Spencer slowly approached the closet and whipped the door open.

“FBI! Put your hands up!”

Regret instantly hit Spencer as he holstered his gun when he saw a crying child crawl out of the closet. It was Jayden, Jordan Richard’s five-year-old son. 

Y/n holstered her gun and approached him, arms outstretched. “Hey there, you don’t have to be scared anymore, we’re the good guys,” she quietly explained as she motioned for Jayden to come closer to her.

He hesitated and looked between y/n and Spencer before running into y/n’s arms. After they left the house, Y/n brought him to the ambulance in the driveway to get checked out, while the team talked about the next steps.

They had been called to a small town in Virginia to investigate a series of families murdered with the same m.o. The team had gone to arrest the unsub, Jordan Richard, well the person they originally thought was the unsub. What they didn’t expect was for the alleged unsub and his family to have been the next victims. This meant the real unsub was still out there and the team was back to square one.

The only miracle was that the unsub had gotten sloppy and overconfident that he had just assumed that “missing” Jayden must’ve been sleeping over someone else’s house. Now this child would be the unsub’s demise.

Y/n was about to go join the team when Jayden grabbed her hand, silently pleading for her not to leave them. She gave him a small smile and sat down next to him in the ambulance.

“He’s lucky. There are no signs of any physical abuse,” the EMT said while placing a small band-aid on Jayden’s finger.

“Y/l/n, we need to take Jayden to headquarters and see if he can remember anything that can help us,” Hotch said before getting into one of the SUVs.

Y/n explained to Jayden the plan to head back to headquarters for the day. He didn’t seem to entirely understand the plan, except that he would get to spend the day with y/n, so he nodded and followed her into the SUV.

When they finally arrived at the bullpen, y/n led Jayden into one of the lounges. JJ came in to drop off some drawing supplies and snacks to help him feel more comfortable. The two of them spent the rest of the day attempting to get Jayden to open up about anything he might remember from last night. To everyone’s disappointment, Jayden was still too traumatized and only responded with nods and shakes of his head. Penelope had tried to find out if Jayden has any other family near, but she couldn’t find any. The social worker permitted Jayden to stay with y/n and Spencer, given that he’s a key witness and potentially still in danger. Actually, he wouldn’t let go of y/n’s leg when the social worker tried to take him for the night, so the social worker permitted him to stay with them until the case was solved. 

Once the three of them arrived at Spencer and y/n’s shared apartment, Spencer quickly went to childproof the guest bedroom. After tucking him in, y/n slid into bed next to Spencer, his arms instantly wrapping around her. 

“You know you always wanted kids,... so here you go,” y/n joked.

“I guess you could say this is our trial period for parenting,” Spencer laughed and placed a kiss goodnight to y/n’s forehead.

The multiple late nights and early mornings for this case, had tired them out so much that soon they were bother knocked out for the night. So knocked out, that neither felt Jayden crawl into bed with them. 

The next morning, y/n rolled over in bed to find that it was empty. She didn’t plan to leave her comfortable bed, until she heard Spencer scream. Running out of bed, she stopped once she saw Spencer covered in some type of food, Jayden no where to be seen. 

“Spence what happened to you?” Y/n laughed, walking into the kitchen.

“JAYDEN THREW HIS YOGURT AT ME!”

“What’d you do to get him to do that?” She teased, looking around the apartment for Jayden. Y/n eventually found him watching tv in the guest room.

“Absolutely nothing. All I did was join him at the table and the next thing I knew he launched his yogurt at me. This is my favorite sweater too,” Spencer pouted, trying to wipe off the yogurt.

“It could be because the first time you met, you had a gun pointed at him. He could still feel threatened by you,” y/n sighed before grabbing Spencer a new shirt.

“By the end of this case, I swear to you, Jayden and I are gonna be best friends,” Spencer promised. 

Y/n didn’t doubt it one bit. She knew Spencer would be the best dad in the world. 

The next two days had gone quick, Spencer and y/n stayed with Jayden to keep him safe and were there once he was comfortable enough to give them more information about that night. 

Y/n had left Spencer and Jayden alone in the apartment, while her and Emily checked out some leads. She hoped, the two of them wouldn’t tear apart the apartment by the time she got back. They’d seemed to be getting along together the past two days.

After checking out the leads, y/n headed back to her apartment to check on Spencer and Jayden before heading back to headquarters. She mentally braced herself for whatever she would be walking into as she unlocked the apartment door. To her surprise, she heard Jayden and Spencer laughing together. As she entered the apartment, she saw Spencer and Jayden running and ducking behind furniture with nerf guns. She giggled at the scene in front of her.

Suddenly, she was hit in the forehead by a foam dart. Y/n looked in the direction the dart came from to see a guilty Spencer emerge from behind the kitchen counter.

“Sorry love, I thought you were Jayden,” Spencer said as he jogged to the door to greet her with a kiss.

“I see you two have been keeping yourselves entertained,” y/n laughed as she went to go sit on the couch. Spencer followed, wrapping an arm around her. 

Jayden finally emerged from their bedroom, nerf gun in one hand and a piece of paper in his other. He ran and jumped onto the couch in between Spencer and y/n. Y/n examined the paper Jayden had handed her. It seemed to be a drawing of a logo.

“This looks familiar Spence, like a company logo,” y/n said as she handed the drawing to him.

“T-th-the scary m-man,” Jayden said, pointing to a mean stick figure he’d drawn on the bottom corner of the paper.

“Is this how you know the man who hurt your family?” Y/n softly asked. Jayden quickly nodded his head before jumping off the couch and running into the other room.

“This might just be what we need to finally catch the unsub,” y/n exclaimed as she gave Spencer a quick kiss and ran out the door to tell the team.

Spencer wanted to be there with y/n and the rest of the team when they went to go arrest the unsub, but he knew he had to stay and keep Jayden safe. A small part of him was actually happy he stayed, that way he’d be able to spend more time with Jayden before a foster family takes him.

“Ok kid, how do we convince my wife to start trying for our own kid?”

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.

Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.

"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"

Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.

"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"

You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.

"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"

"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."

Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"

"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"

"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"

He spat, motioning to your stomach.

"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"

"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"

"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"

"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"

"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"

"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"

"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"

"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"

"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"

You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.

Bo Sinclair was afraid.

An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.

You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.

The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.

"You're not going to be like them Bo"

You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Shut up"

He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.

"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."

You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.

"Bo"

You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.

"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"

"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."

Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.

"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"

Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.

"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."

"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"

Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.

"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"

You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.

"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."

"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"

"What else is wrong then Bo?"

"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."

"Oh Bo"

"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"

Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.

"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."

"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"

You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.

The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.

"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"

Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.

"Really?"

He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile

"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"

"Now Vince we ain't even-"

"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"

Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.

"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"

"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."

Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"

Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.

"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"

Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.

"A one in 250 chance huh?"

"Yeah, I reckon so"

"You wanna take that chance daddy?"

All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.

"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."

With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.

"What rules are we talkin' about?"

"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"

"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"

"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"

"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"

"I can if I want too"

He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say Bo"

"Hey I run this town-"

Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.

As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.

[onyourowndaisymae]

unicorn bandages - alt. version

this has been sitting in my drafts awhile. someone requested some lucifer hurt/comfort (that i haven't got around to yet) and i wrote this, only to realize this didn't exactly hit the mark when i finished. but i figured it's cute, so i might as well post it

word count: 1145

content + warnings: playful/smartass lucifer, general fluff, minor physical injury, general mentions of embarrassment

you need to learn to be more careful.

that's what you think as you walk the rest of the way home to the house of lamentation, lost in your own thoughts. the gentle searing pain of your skinned knee was enough of a punishment-- did you brain have to keep replaying the memory of you tripping in the middle of town, too? being clumsy and wearing shorts were both incompatible with your plans today, yet here you are, looking foolish and feeling exposed from your mistake.

the blood had long since dried against your skin. you felt sticky and gross, yearning now for a shower and a place to hide from your lingering embarrassment. did anyone from RAD see you eat shit outside that shop. ugh, and they way nobody helped you up, how you awkwardly stumbled to your feet and-- ahhh!! please, no more!!

the familiar creak of the front doors announced your arrival to the house of lamentation. you shuffled inside awkwardly, head hung, staring at your feet to avoid another tumble. even the book you bought on your day out couldn't console you enough to block out the invisible judgement you felt.

"what is that?"

you lifted your head to find lucifer stopped in the archway to the living room, eyes narrowed at you.

"huh?"

"what is that?" he repeated. "what happened to your knee?"

"oh. i, uh, i fell on my way home and scraped my knee. i don't-- i'm fine. it's just a scrape."

you felt the urge to shy away from his stern gaze, to hide your little scrape from his prying eyes and pretend it never happened. he looks at the wound for a few moments longer before meeting your eyes.

"will you sit down on the stairs for a moment, mc?"

"it's not that big of a deal. it just need to be wiped off, nothing special."

"then surely you'd be okay with me cleaning it for you? since it's such a minor injury."

you couldn't think of much else to argue. he gave you that smug half-smirk he saved for minor victories such as this and disappeared from sight. you shuffled to the stairs and sat, slumped in defeat, as he presumably went to fetch some first aid supplies.

the avatar of pride returned as quickly as he left, this time with a small black box in his hands. a small gesture of his hands urged you to stretch the injured leg out to give him better access. gloved hands busied themselves digging through unidentified supplies.

"what happened?" he asks, quietly, as he pulls out what looks like a cotton pad and some sort of cleaning agent.

"i was... i went out to get this book satan recommended. y'know, because he always wants to talk about what he's reading." he nodded and you continued. "so i decided to grab it while i was out. apparently there's a hole in the sidewalk out front, because as i was walking out, my foot got caught and i-- ow!"

your cry of pain was almost indignant as lucifer interrupted your story by cleaning the wound. the sharp sting of something akin to but not quite isopropyl alcohol lit your knee on fire. had the scrape really been that bad?

"the bacteria in the devildom is a bit more aggressive than in the human realm," he explained, softer look on his face than a moment ago. "we wouldn't want our favorite human getting sick from an accident like this, would we?"

as if he was trying to apologize, lucifer brought your knee closer by the back of your leg and gently blew on the wound to alleviate some of the pain of the cleanser currently working its magic. it was nice. for a moment, he was lucifer, big brother, not the avatar of pride he embodied in public. his fingers fiddled with pulling and stretching your skin to ensure each inch was properly wiped clean. there was a certain level of sincerity to his movements that made you smile.

"did you do this a lot when your brothers were growing up?"

"you have no idea."

that makes you laugh. he smiles, just a little, before continuing.

"angels are supposed to be resilient. their skin is thicker than a human being's, so they shouldn't get hurt as easily. and yet training my younger brothers was-- well, it was quite the event."

"i'm gonna guess mammon was the biggest pain?"

"definitely mammon." a fond smile. he wiped a cotton pad across your busted knee before continuing. "every time i saw him, he was always covered in bruises and scrapes. i could never quite get him to admit that he'd got them wandering off in pursuit of his younger brothers."

"that sounds a lot like him."

lucifer picked up a small tin containing the bandages. these must have been picked out by asmodeus-- instead of the usual plain design lucifer always grabbed, these were bright and colorful with unicorn designs. the avatar of pride only offered a small sigh before pulling an adequately sized one out and applying for you. in a few moments, what was a terribly embarrassing memory had been sealed from the world behind two unicorns hopping in unison over a rainbow.

"aren't you going to kiss it better?"

your sarcastic question was followed by your mischievous little smirk. maybe you shouldn't have teased him while he was in such a good mood. his eyes narrowed a bit before, to your surprise, his smirk mirrored your own.

you open your mouth to play off your joke, but lucifer's already lifting your knee to his mouth. your whole body is sliding uncomfortably off the stair step-- karma sure is efficient-- as his lips hover above your knee. lucifer's lips brush the top of your bandage. he makes an obnoxious kissing sound to honor your request before unceremoniously dropping your leg, leaving you sprawled in an odd position on the steps.

"i was kidding," you whine.

"my apologies. i just wanted to make sure you healed correctly."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

the avatar of pride is quick to repack the first aid kit and rise to his feet. you reach out for his hand to help you up. in a bout of playfulness, he instead high fives your open palm, small smirk dripping with sarcasm. of course you had to catch him in a good mood. you sigh dramatically. this time, his offer to help you stand was genuine. a quick tug of your hand and lucifer had quickly pulled your fragile human body off the steps.

"careful, mc. wouldn't want you to fall again."

"i think you'd enjoy it, actually. sadist."

"... you're probably right."

"huh?!"

your cry is indignant as he begins to exit. you chase after him without hesitation. that smirk on his face meant he was joking, right?

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

pairing: Jay x fem!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst/miscommunication trope? if you squint? Oneshot bullet point fic

content warnings: none

Summary: Sunoo is sick of watching you pine after Jay when he clearly has feelings for you too, so he devises a plan to give the two of you some much needed alone time

notes: this was the result of a very delusional conversation I had with @nar-nia, thank you for fueling my delulu thoughts and beta reading the first draft love <3 I would never have posted this if it wasn't for your support ;*

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

You were going to kill Jake and Sunoo

This was all their fault

They were the ones who had insisted that you all leave the “stuffy” confines of the airbnb your friendgroup had rented for your annual trip to the beach to visit the boardwalk and amusement park barely an hour after you’d all arrived

Doing everything in their power to drag a spaced out Sunghoon and a tired looking Jay along

Sunoo sulking and singing an extremely off-key rendition of “part of your world” while dragging you through the living room in a clumsy waltz, gesturing dramatically at the large glass windows leading out onto the patio to emphasise his point every time he hit a line about dancing or walking

When his attempts at annoying them into going inevitably failed, he decided the only thing left was to get both you and niki on his side and beg

Convincing Niki was a bit of a task, the younger boy content to lounge around on a beanbag with his nintendo

He probably would’ve stayed there had if it was only Sunoo asking him for help... purely for the sake of annoying his hyung

But Jake overheard Sunoo's whispered pleas, and when he joined the campaign and asked the younger boy for help, Niki couldn’t really find it in him to say no

Enlisting your help was significantly easier, even if you were a bit annoyed by his earlier antics

Because while you were close to everyone in your little group, Sunoo in particular had a special place in your heart, having been by your side since childhood, you would do almost anything for him

Even if it meant putting on an indifferent facade in front of the man you’d been in love with for an unhealthily long time

Jay really didn’t want to go to the amusement park

although the rest of you had gotten to sleep and recharge between stops, he and Sunghoon were both tired after staying alert and herding you all from place to place all morning

All he wanted to do was sleep

But Sunoo had somehow managed to rope both you and Niki in on his schemes 

It would have been hard enough to say no to his precious little brother

But you?

How could he say no when you were asking so nicely? Pleading your case by saying that this was a trip you’d all taken to make memories together, so what was the point if Jay and Sunghoon weren’t there with you?

God you were just too cute

Jay tries to appeal to you and Niki, knowing there’s no point in trying to talk Sunoo out of this

“But (y/n)-ah, Niki, we’re tired, it’s been such a long day, can’t we just stay in till dinnertime?”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon says from his spot beside Jay, eyes coming back into focus for the first time since you’d started speaking, “we could always go tomorrow, the fair isn’t going anywhere.”

“It is, actually,” Heeseung joins the fray, walking into the living room from the kitchen, looking at something on his phone. “Or at least the ferris wheel is, they’re closing it down for maintenance tomorrow, and it won’t be open again till the day we’re leaving.”

“See! Heeseung gets it!” you exclaim, high fiving him.

Jay feels his heart sink just a little at the sight

It had been almost two years since Niki had told him about your feelings for Heeseung, casually dropping the bomb as the two of them sat on lawn chairs by Jake’s pool, watching you try and fail to yank him off a large unicorn shaped pool float and into the water

Jay had played it cool, laughing along like it meant nothing

Except it did

Because Jay had realised very early on in your friendship that he was a dead man walking

From the moment when Sunoo dragged you over to their table at lunch, announcing that you were his best friend, and you’d introduced yourself with a nervous little smile on your face

To the days where you walked home with them, laughing and bickering with Jake over silly things like whether or not water was wet and if black was a color

And all the times he’d seen you sitting quietly with Niki, allowing him to lean on you like an older sister 

With every day that passed, Jay had found himself falling faster and faster, till he got to a point where he feared there was no return 

But he was too late

You liked Heeseung

And whether you chose to act on that or not, it just wasn’t his place to try and win you over when you liked someone else

So he sets his feelings aside, packing them neatly away and schooling his expression into something as neutral as possible

“That’s just the ferris wheel though, isn’t it?” Sunghoon asks, still trying to find a reason to stay curled into the soft couch cushions

“Yeah but (y/n)’s been looking forward to trying the ferris wheel since we started planning!” Sunoo whines, nudging you pointedly

“Mnmm!” you nod, It wasn’t exactly true, you’d only mentioned once that the ferris wheel looked pretty

But they didn’t have to know that

“Really, (y/n)?” Jay asks

You nod enthusiastically, not knowing how much you’d regret it

Jay can feel his resolve crumbling, how could he deny you anything when you look so genuinely excited about it? He’d rather drown himself in the sea than be one to take that away from you

So here you all were, walking along the crowded boardwalk, passing by booths with an assortment of hand crafted souvenirs and trinkets on display against a backdrop of colorful cloths, the smell of warm sugar and sizzling street foods mingling with the ocean breeze

It was all fun and games at first, all of you trying foods, taking pictures, walking up to a few stalls and attempting to win prizes, competing to see who could walk away with the biggest stuffed toy that night

You were laughing, joking around with Jungwon, winning a large duck plushie for Niki, twirling around and showing off the pretty sundress you’d thrown on when Sunoo pointed his camcorder at you

Blissfully unaware of the pointed looks passing between him and Jake

The two of them had noticed early on the way Jay stuck close to you

Carefully placing himself between you and any other tourists who were brushing past a little too close for comfort

Watching you twirl for the camera with such a nauseatingly lovesick expression on his face that Sunoo nearly gagged

Only to move away as soon as Heeseung approached you

Giving the two of you “space”

Space to do what exactly Sunoo had no idea

Sure you’d liked Heeseung when you’d first been introduced to his friends

But that hadn’t lasted long at all

Your affections quickly shifting to someone else

The poor pink-haired boy had lost count of the number of times he’d had to listen to you complain about how handsome Jay was

How kind and attentive he was

What an amazing husband he’d be one day

How lucky his future wife would be

Sunoo wanted to grab you by the shoulders and remind you that there was a fair chance that that future wife could be you

He had done just that on more than one occasion

But you brushed him aside every time

Saying there was no way Jay could ever have feelings for you

It drove him insane

Especially when he noticed the way Jay looked at you 

Jake was thankfully spared from most of your rants

But he was very much aware of how you felt

And he agreed with Sunoo, there was absolutely no way Jay didn’t return your feelings

So the two of them had come up with a plan

At some point, Jake let slip that while you were very excited about riding he ferris wheel, you were actually scared to go on because you were afraid of heights

You turned to him in surprise, unsure how to respond to the wholly false claim without exposing the fact that you’d lied about wanting to ride the ferris wheel in the place

Sunoo joined in a moment later, complaining about how he’d tried to convince you that it wasn’t all that scary, that these things were checked regularly to ensure they were safe, but that you just wouldn’t listen

You’d elbowed him in the ribs, confusion painted across your features

When Jay made a suggestion 

An absolutely terrifying one

“Well… one of us could go with you if you’d like? It probably won’t be as bad if you’re not all by yourself”

“That would be brilliant! But Jake and I promised to go in the haunted house with Niki…”

“I could go with her then, I don’t really feel like scaring myself silly when I won’t be sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

“Could you? That would be great! Whaddya say (y/n)?”

All three pairs of eyes land on you, and for a moment you feel your mouth go dry

On a ferris wheel… In a small glass box… alone… with Jay…

It sounds absolutely terrifying

“I’m not too sure…” you start to say, but Jay bumps his shoulder against yours, and when you manage to will yourself to look at him, he’s smiling down at you

“C’mon, I’ll be right there with you he whole time,” he says, “you’ll regret it more if you don’t go.”

You swallow around the lump that’s formed in your throat

He’s right

You were the one who’d gone on and on about making memories 

Here was a prime opportunity to build a memory you’d surely never forget

Wouldn’t you regret it more if you chickened out now?

“Okay…I’ll go,” you said

And the cheers that erupted from the three boys were so infectious that you forgot about the nervous butterflies filling your chest

Until of course you were actually on the ferris wheel

The glass doors sliding shut to seal your fate

You hadn’t known that there was only one seat in the capsul 

Hadn’t counted on being right next to Jay, your thighs occasionally knocking together 

The proximity was doing nothing to help the racing of your heart, sharp pinpricks of heat blossoming under your skin and spreading up your neck and ears

“(y/n), you there?”

Jay’s voice startles you a little, and you wince before you can catch yourself

“Huh? Oh yeah… I’m here, sorry”

Your familiar, nervous laugh makes Jay smile a little, reminding him of the day you first met

But he quickly brushes the memory aside, choosing to focus on you

You seemed uncomfortable

Were you really this afraid of heights?

He tries his best to smile reassuringly, tilting his head to one side so he’s looking up at you instead of it being the other way round

“Well hello, welcome back,” he says, unaware of the way those few words send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy

“Hi…” you manage back, mentally patting yourself on the back for how normal your voice sounds

“Hi,” he chuckles, and the sound makes your brain go a little fuzzy, so much so that you barely register it when he gestures behind him. “I know you’re avoiding looking out for a reason, but you really should.”

“What? Oh, right, I- ooh.”

You sigh, suddenly forgetting why you’d been panicking in the first place

“It’s beautiful…” you say, but you’re also looking at Jay when you say it, golden light washing over his skin, making him glow against the backdrop of the sea

“It is,” he says, and if you’d been paying more attention, you would have noticed two things:

Jay’s back was to the sunset, he’d been looking at you the whole time

The ferris wheel had stopped moving some moments prior

Unfortunately for you both, your mind only processes the second, your eyes as wide as dinner plates when your brain catches up with your body and the lack of motion finally sets in

“Jay… Is this ride supposed to stop?”

“No?”

“No?!” 

“I mean I’m pretty sure it’s not?!”

Realisation dawns on you, and you rush to the side of the pod, watching as Sunoo and Jake, your own best friend smiles back you, blowing you a kiss

You know what they'd done.

You know because you would have done the same in a heartbeat

The butterflies in your chest seem to double, wings beating frantically against your ribcage 

The panic that had temporarily subsided beginning to creep back up your spine

Buzzing through your veins and going straight to your head

How long would you be up here? What were you supposed to do when your heart felt like it was caught in your throat? How were you supposed to remain calm when Jay was sitting right next to you looking so so beautiful knowing he probably thought you were insane for freaking out like this when it really wasn't a big deal and you should have been fine and-

“Hey, hey, calm down, breathe, I was wrong, stop looking out there (y/n).”

Oh no

He’s touching you now, a hand on your arm pulling you back, tugging you away from the glass and the view that honestly didn’t scare you as much as he thought it did

And closer to him

The real reason you felt like you were going to vibrate right out of your skin

Your eyes dart around almost frantically, focusing on anything but him

Jay watches you fidget in your seat, hands clasped together in your lap, face flushed, breathing uneven

He’s never seen you like this before

And he can’t help but blame himself

He should’ve never let Sunoo and Jake talk you into this 

“(y/n), (y/n) please, I need you to breathe, look at me please.”

His hands come up to gently cup your cheeks, turning your face away from the “frightening” view outside and forcing you to make direct eye contact with him

You feel your heart stutter where it’s lodged in your throat

“Focus on me, please, don’t think about anything else, just focus and breathe for me, yeah?”

You could cry

Tears welling up in the corners of your eyes

Jay has absolutely no idea how difficult he’s making this for you

Completely clueless to the way the deepening crease between his brows makes you want to kiss it

How the way his lips are pressed together with worry makes your heart flip in your chest

“(y/n), I can feel you shaking, this is just a technical difficulty, you’re okay, nothing’s going to happen.”

But I want it to

The words rest on the tip of your tongue

You want something to happen

The longer you stare at him the harder it is to focus on his eyes, the task proving impossible with the way your heart squeezes painfully in your chest at how soft and open they are, how intently he’s looking at you, it makes you feel like you’re special to him when you know you’re not

He’s looking out for you the same way he would Niki or Jungwon 

You need to remember that

But not looking at his eyes means looking at the rest of him

Which you soon discover is almost as dangerous, because what you find yourself focusing on now is his lips

The way they curve around the vowels of your name as he tries to talk you through the jumbled, scattered thoughts and feelings he's causing

Oh the irony

But he's not really faring much better

Jay feels like he’s going insane

He sees the way your eyes keep flickering across his face

Settling on his lips just a little too long for his peace of mind

You're making him question how you really feel about him

Pulling at the strings wound tightly across the box of memories he'd stashed neatly away

Moments where he'd been sure you looked at him in ways friends weren't really supposed to look at each other

He can't do this

Jay pulls his hands away from your face, allowing them to flutter over your skin

Over your jaw

Down your neck

Across your shoulders

Before coming to settle on your upper arms

Leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, gently pushing you away, holding you at arms length, his body bowed as if in pain

“You can’t do that (y/n),” he breathes, letting out a shuddering breath

“Jay?” your voice is barely anything above a whisper, fear creeping in with the panic

 Did he see? Did he notice? Did you somehow manage to make him uncomfortable after everything you’d doen to avoid that exact scenario?

“You can’t keep looking at me like that when you have feelings for Heeseung.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, for the cogs in your mind to turn them over and process them through white noise and fog filling your head like cotton 

And when they finally do sink in, you blanch, willing yourself to get it together, to apologise, to do whatever you had to do to salvage the situation

But Jay speaks again before you can

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

It’s Jay’s turn to swallow around the lump in his throat, his grip on your arms tightening, face downturned, staring at the peeling blue vinyl between you

The butterflies in your chest slow, settling along your ribs so the anxious beating of their wings stills to a steady thrum

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, surprising yourself with how calm you sounded

“I mean… I mean that you have no idea how insane it makes me when I see you with him, when you’re laughing together and you smile at him like he’s your whole world, because I wish you’d look at me like that, because… and I know it’s selfish but I wish that I could be the only one to make you laugh… But I know that you like Hee, and that’s okay, my feelings are my own, it’s not on you to take responsibility for them, but I need to take care of my own heart (y/n) I feel like I’m losing my mind I-”

“Jay,” you cut him off, voice coming out more harsh than you’d intended, but it works, his mouth snapping shut immediately. “Jay, look at me please,” you say, more gently this time. 

He does as you ask, and your heart breaks a little when you realise that his eyes are as glassy as yours

You place your hands over his, and for one, horrible moment, though he knows he deserves it, though he knows you have every right to, he thinks you’re going to tear yourself away from him. 

But you don’t. 

Your hands are warm against his, too warm, and they’re still shaking, but they’re moving his lower, over your elbows, onto your sides, till they come to rest on your waist. He can feel your pulse in your wrists, matching his beat for anxious beat

He’s so distracted by how soft you feel and how perfectly you fit in his hands that he flinches when you lean towards him, moving away from you on instinct

Cute, you think, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching upwards

“What if I want to?” you whisper, his pupils blown wide as he searches your expression, “what if I want to take responsibility for your feelings?”

For a moment, you’re sure neither of you remembers how to breathe. The world standing still

Jay isn’t really sure he’s capable of forming a coherent sentence, words rushing through his skull and coming to an abrupt halt before they could make it past his lips

So he settles for the next best thing 

Slowly, his hand moves from your waist, brushing against your knuckles, tentatively lacing his fingers through your own, careful to give you time to pull away should you wish to

But you don’t

No

You level your gaze with his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as if to say ‘go on’

He lets out a breath, he didn’t know he was holding, cautiously bringing your hand up to his lips, barely brushing them over your skin before turning your hand over and placing a soft, chaste kiss against your palm

His eyes don’t leave yours for even a moment, watching you intently, gauging your reactions. When you don’t flinch or move away, he lets your entwined hands fall to the side. 

“What about Heeseung?” he asks, even as he’s leaning towards you, even when you can feel the ghost of his lips on yours.

You giggle despite yourself, bringing your free hand up to thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “It was never him, silly…” 

A shiver runs down his spine, whether from your words or your actions neither of you can really say

And it doesn’t really matter anyway

Your eyes flutter closed, you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin-

And the ferris wheel starts turning again with a sharp jolt

Sending you crashing into each other, foreheads knocking together painfully

You both groan in pain, looking around confusedly, trying to regain your bearings as the moment passes

When your eyes meet again, and you realise that your hands are clasped together tightly between you, neither of you can stop the fit of giggles bubbling up in your chests

You’re both still laughing by the time you make it back to the bottom, the doors sliding open to reveal your friends waiting for you with triumphant smiles on their faces

Niki grumbling as he hands Sunoo several folded bills 

You let go of Jay’s hand the second you see it, marching over to kick their shins 

“You didn’t even go to the haunted house did you?” you whisper-yell, glaring daggers at them

Sunoo’s smile is pure evil, flicking your nose and replying in the most annoyingly smug tone you’d ever heard. “Now now, (y/n), is that any way to talk to the person who so graciously helped you get over the pathetic moping phase of your crush?”

“Which lasted much too long by the way,” Jake chimes in, joining the conversation 

“You were in on this?!” 

“You weren’t exactly subtle sweetheart, Jay was just fed false information thanks to this kid.”

“Excuse me?” 

The bickering continues as you all walk away from the ferris wheel, Niki and Jake both getting whacked over the head with the large pink octopus Sunoo had won for you as an apology (the only reason he wasn’t getting beaten up too)

It isn’t until the two of them run away from you, cackling like hyenas, that you feel an arm wrap round your waist

Holding you loosely, Jay leans down so only you can hear him

“We’ll finish that conversation later, (y/n).”

And then he’s gone

Leaving you standing there, feeling flustered enough to match the octopus in your arms, glaring at a snickering Sunoo

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Six

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

He dreamed of the blonde woman again. She sat at the edge of his bed, poking the bruises on his side while he struggled to keep his coffee in his stomach. 

“Does this hurt?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Everything hurts.”

She pulled a combination lock out of the air and started fidgeting with it. “Why are you calling yourself Spencer?”

“Isn’t that my name?”

“I guess,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s what those other guys called you. Janish. You knew him.”

His eyes were heavy, but he fought to keep them open, afraid she’d disappear if he let them close. “I don’t remember.”

“He’s connected to this,” she said. “To me. He’d have answers.”

If it didn’t hurt so much, he would have shaken his head. “I don’t want answers.”

“You can’t come home if you don’t know where it is.”

He did close his eyes then. It wouldn’t be home without her.

“He’ll come back,” she said, ignoring his reaction. “He’ll try to hurt Sunny.”

“I won’t let him.”

She poked his head, and he let out a groan. “You may not be able to stop him.”

“Then what do I do?” he demanded. “Go after him? After his boss? I hunt them down, and I’m just as bad as them.”

“Being bad isn’t all that bad,” she said.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

For a long moment, she was quiet, and when he opened his eyes he feared she’d be gone. But she was still perched beside him, still fiddling, though now there were three locks instead of one. “You and me,” she said softly. “We do the hard things. The things the others can’t do.”

“I don’t want to be bad,” he whispered.

“You might have done bad things,” she said. “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

She prodded his aching ribs, and he put his hand out, hoping to feel her—but she wasn’t really there, of course she wasn’t, and his palm slid off his side to rest on the mattress. He was so tired. If he could just get some sleep...

“I think he’s finally out,” said a faint voice, and Spencer turned his head toward it.

“J.B.,” he murmured.

“Guess not,” J.B. sighed. “Go to sleep, Spencer. You need to rest.”

“Janish has come by before?” he said.

“On and off for a couple weeks,” Sunny answered. Spencer opened his eyes and found J.B. on a wooden chair beside the bed, with Sunny folding laundry across the room. She wasn’t looking at him directly, and that made him want to curl back up and pretend to sleep.

He propped himself up on an elbow instead. “What do they want?”

“They want me to sell the house,” Sunny said, her attention on the clothes. “Offered me three times what the place is worth, and when that didn’t work, they tried to say I didn’t really own the place, but I have the paperwork to prove it, so I guess now they’re resorting to threats.”

“Why?”

She lifted her gaze, hard and hurt, and stabbed him with it. “You tell me.”

He let the accusation cut, taking a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that he could feel remorse for his part in whatever was going on. Guilt was good; it meant he wasn’t totally lost. But then he sat up, moving his legs over the side of the bed, and waved J.B. off when he tried to push him back down.

He had work to do.

“I know Janish,” Spencer said, speaking directly to Sunny. “At least, I did. I don’t remember exactly, but—”

“Your head injury,” J.B. said.

Spencer shot him a wary look, and J.B. nodded to himself. “I thought so. You said you fell? Judging by that wound, you must’ve hit your head hard enough to cause some memory loss. Pair that with the trauma of losing someone close to you, and you’ve got a pretty good recipe for retrograde amnesia.”

“Let me guess,” Spencer said in a dull voice. “You picked that up when you picked up how to stitch a wound and how to recognize military mannerisms.”

He gave a sheepish shrug. “Yeah, all right. Former Marine, combat medic. I’m guessing Army for you.”

Spencer shook his head helplessly, and J.B. nodded again. “The good news is that your memory should return, if you give yourself the chance to heal. The bad news is I don’t think you’ll give yourself that chance.”

Spencer looked back at Sunny. “It’s not that easy. Someone tried to kill me, after—” After they killed the woman, after he failed to save her—he cleared his throat and pushed on. “I don’t have much to go on. If Janish recognized me, he might be connected. Anything you can tell me could be helpful. If they’re trying to take this house from you, there must be a reason. Maybe I can stop it.”

Her eyes were still sharp, but some of the heat had gone out of her glare. “You could be anyone,” she said, folding and unfolding the same shirt, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles as she spoke. “You could be working with them.”

“I could,” he agreed quietly. “Whoever I was working with, I think it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t go into that building wearing a badge.”

Sunny snorted. “I don’t care about that. You think you’re the only one I’ve taken in who had a past? Miguel’s got a record long enough to fill a city block, and he’s the sweetest boy I ever had stay here—besides J.B. But Janish… His men aren’t like that. They’re cruel. And if you’re with them…”

“He isn’t,” J.B. said before Spencer could agree with her. “Sunny, you know he’s not. You can tell as well as I can.”

The shirt folded, unfolded, folded again. “Maybe now,” she said at last. “But the fact is, that could all change when his memory comes back. We got no way of knowing.”

Spencer eased himself to his feet. “You’re right. I never wanted to bring you trouble; I’ll leave as soon as—”

“Sit back down before you pass out again,” Sunny said. “I’m not going to kick you out for something you haven’t done, no matter how many red flags you got sprouting from you. Everyone deserves a chance.”

“Janish works for Stephen Lancaster,” J.B. said when Spencer stayed upright. “That name mean anything to you?”

He frowned. “The men chasing me mentioned a Lancaster. They said to call him to say one of their guys was dead—he fell out of the window with me, I think. I didn’t stick around to hear any more.”

“Probably a good idea,” J.B. muttered.

Sunny tossed the shirt onto a pile and moved onto a pair of socks. “How does Janish know you?”

“And why were they after you?” J.B. put in.

Spencer shook his head, rubbing absently at a sore spot on his palm. “I don’t know. But I got an idea for how to find out.”

J.B. blinked at him, then at Sunny, and groaned. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to cause me more headaches than it’ll cause you?”

“It won’t cause you anything,” Spencer said. “You and Miguel stay here to make sure Janish’s men don’t try anything again, and I’ll go track down some answers.”

“On your own?” J.B. said.

Someone had removed Spencer’s boots; he found them at the edge of the bed and sat to put them on. “Got a feelin’ that’s not new to me,” he said, his eyes on his feet. He glanced up at Sunny as he tied the laces. “Do you have any idea why they want your house? Anything in the history of the place? Maybe the land it’s on?”

“I wish I knew,” Sunny said. “It’s just a house. Isn’t even that old—my parents rebuilt it in ‘93. They owned the original, but it was torn down ages ago. They left the new house to me when they passed. There’s nothing here Lancaster could want.”

Nothing obvious. Nothing in the building itself, probably—it was more likely to have something to do with the grounds. “How big is the lot?”

Sunny waved at the window. “The yard, that’s it. The original house was smaller, but we added on. I’m telling you, though, there’s nothing of value here. They had to dig out the foundation to pour a new basement.”

The pain in Spencer’s head had returned—or intensified, it was hard to tell—and he closed his eyes against the overhead light while he tried to gather the information into something useful.

You know what to do, said the voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like the blonde woman.

He sighed. “J.B.,” he said, opening his eyes. “Where can I find Lancaster?”

[coconox]

my 2 cents on the state of whb

i've been contemplating about my thoughts on this game since i never really sat down and processed it, and a month of not playing the game and just keeping up with fandom content/official game news i think i can properly format my words (hopefully idk lol)

if you're looking for a specific section dw i'll properly format everything under the cut so you can just scroll till you find whatever you're looking for (also head's up it's insanely long i'm sorry but kinda not sorry i wanted to just put all my thoughts into one post rather than multiple)

SMALL INTRO

for some context on my experience, i have been playing this game everyday since launch/day 1, i was f2p up until i got juno's card, which i'll talk about later, but just know in advanced that juno was the only case where i've spent money. i uninstalled around the time the announcement was made in regards to no posting full stories of paid content, so almost month ago, and only reinstalled recently to grab certain items to add to the spreadsheet that i've been maintaining since november (aka a month after launch)

i've said it privately to a couple of close friends but i'll say it publicly here: imho, i think they released the game way too early even with the fact that they delayed launch 3 times.

i understand a handleful of bugs are from the fact that the public servers are significantly larger than test servers, but playing this game after the servers kinda stabilized feels like we are the test players, like we're constantly given rough drafts rather than the final copy.

the localization is rough to say the least, but i think i've been so used to it from other gachas that i've played that it didn't really ruin the experience for me,,, except when the text would switch to an entirely different language HJGFDHJGK

from visual bugs to gameplay bugs to voiceline bugs, there's been a lack of communication in terms of what has been fixed and what is still a wip. instead the players just have to "fuck around and find out" in terms of whether something has been fixed or not.

as i continue to state the issues with this game and its direction i'd like to put a disclaimer that i am by no means an expert in any of this stuff lol. i'm just a guy who nerds out over math, spreadsheets, and video games and everything i'll be saying is my personal opinion based on what i've seen/experienced.

THE ISSUE(S)

SOLOMON SEALS AND GACHA

i think the first mistake was them adding solomon seals in the first place. based on what packs in the past looked like, it looked like red keys were originally designed to be for debut characters, but instead they throw a curve ball and add ANOTHER gacha currency that was essentially p2w only up till some point early this year. this ultimately led to there being 2 standard banners, both of which essentially do the same thing except one doesn't have A/B/C-ranks. the fact that now even with realm of seraphim, in order for f2ps to have enough to guarantee with seals, they need to save for a year and a half. that is WAY too long for ONE character. this is of course worst case scenario of needing to hit pity, i'm aware you can get characters early but you should never always expect you'll get early in gacha games, i learned that the hard way during my idk how many years i've been playing gachas lol

i personally think that there's no winning across any of the gacha banners. there's no pity for either of the standards, and debut L/S-ranks have imo too high of a pity for what we're actually receiving per week. we essentially get more or less 1 pull per week in terms of red keys, yellow keys, and seals through dailies/weeklies alone, though of course that can vary cause of the rng key boxes, monthly login rewards, etc.

PANCAKES

there seems to be a general pattern that i've noticed of rather than confronting an issue directly they try to create something new in hoping that fixes the issue instead. an example of that would be the pancake shop.

the old pancake shop was fine as is, we could get a multi for relatively cheap price and get pie boxes everyday (albeit they're rng but pies are pies). what they could've done was add the L-ranks and skip tickets or whatever new thing they wanted to add into that old shop, adjusting the currency wherever necessary. yet instead they just remove the old system entirely and replace it for a new one that no one really asked for? while having the L-ranks in shop are nice, an entirely new system wasn't necessary to make that one relatively small addition. having A+-ranks and lower give gold and books was also not necessary, we have resource stages containing those 2 things and it's very accessible to everyone. what resources we are lacking in however are tears and pies, which are arguably more important than gold and books since those 2 currencies are the core to ascending/lvling characters and their skills.

PIES

i've emailed pb in the past in regards to if there will be other permanent methods for obtaining pies, and their response was holy coin portal and events. those two are NOT stable enough for pie income considering the prices of skills. if there's instances in unholy board where we need to level a character's skills, i'd expect there to be some sort of resource stage that would allow us to get pies so that we can easily obtain that skill level requirement.

"META" GAMEPLAY

i'll explain the quotes in a bit but i do want to put a disclaimer that whb was the first time i've experienced a full on tower defense style gameplay for gachas. i was already familiar with how it works kinda because of neural cloud even though the game as a whole is more like an auto-chess game of sorts, but some story gameplay had tower defense mechanisms and i learned a fair bit from playing that. personally i also haven't played arknights since i'm trying to cut down on the amount of gachas i play but i am aware of its playstyle through friends who like to attempt to drag me into playing it cause of certain characters that i might simp over (*cough flamebringer cough insider cough chongyue cough*)

disclaimer aside, trying to piece together what characters work and what don't genuinely hurts my brain. i put "meta" in quotes because realistically there's only 1: all L-rank light types, ideally at least 1 tank, maybe 1 healer (though a tank can act as both), rest be whatever dps you'd like really (preferably satan considering the fact he can be extremely reliable without his ultimate unlike a few characters). of course, everyone will have a different opinion on what they deem as meta, but that's the general idea i'd personally follow based on what kind of battles have been given to us, what characters are available, etc. the rest tbh are just "cope and seethe" for lack of a better term.

there's a huge type advantage with light and dark types, and i really wish they could buff the other elements more just show they have some spotlight too. i also wish there were more non-light L-ranks. as of making this post, out of the 23 L-rank characters there is currently only 1 non-light L-rank, and it's juno, an L-rank fire marksman.

the part that really "hurts" me the most (don't really know what other word to put here LOL) is the fact that this game is going in a very specific direction of just dps'ing through everything and hope you clear the stage before the enemies kill you.

this game has a huge and imbalanced ratio between dps characters and support characters regardless of element. the fact that we only have 5 healers (NOT including lucifer (victory) considering he's technically a marksman and the healing is from his artifact and not in his skills) and 8 tanks, whereas marksman and close-rangers have twice or thrice the amount is absurd. what pains me more is the fact that for tanks, if you don't have mammon, you're screwed. arguably the best non-mammon option players have that's accessible is bimet. valefor and eligos share the same kit with the fact that their downfall is the possibility that they could be instakilled the second they pop their ult. healers on the other hand are somewhat more lenient. if you don't have lucifer, marbas is your next best, then gamigin (marbas and gamigin can technically be placed interchangeably since their healing differs by 0.1%, it just depends on who you have), then morax, then maybe buer but he only heals 1 unit at a time rather than multiple but i digress. healers still have multiple and very reliable non-L-rank alternatives whilst tanks really only have 1. i really, really hope there's more support units in the future cause man this sucks.

NIGHTMARE PASS

spending $50-$70, on paper, is significantly better than spending ~$400 for a character, and that's really the only "good" thing about it 💀

$50-$70 may feel like nothing to some players, but to a majority, that is a portion of a cost towards food, groceries, rent, etc. basically, i'd assume a majority of people would prioritize surviving than watching pixels on a screen.

i understand at the end of the day pb is running a business, but for kings to be fully locked behind a paywall knowing for a fact that a majority of the player base are 1. casuals/f2ps and 2. are here for the kings is absurd. plus with the fact that typically nightmare pass characters aren't added to standard and aren't always 100% guaranteed to rerun in the future just puts the nail in the coffin for me.

i think it makes more sense for non-kings like juno to be in nightmare pass because it's just additional fun and silly content that arguably won't be tied to the main lore and whatnot, maybe referenced as a silly bit here or there but it'd be more of an easter egg than something important that you absolutely need to know.

personally i bought juno's pass because i love his design, kit, and voice. story was kinda meh for me personally but i really just cared more about the va and gameplay. gameplay-wise, he certainly does not disappoint as a gehenna support unit. but do i regret purchasing him? yes and no. oddly enough this was probably the first i've ever felt guilty in terms of buying something i wanted in a gacha game. yes i regret it in terms of i'm no longer really playing this game anymore, which is unfortunate considering i barely made it through half a year of this game's release. yet at the same time, no i don't regret it because he is a really fun unit. for example, when it's gabriel's rotation in realm of seraphim, juno's, leraye (nostalgia)'s, and leraye's ultimates absolutely DESTROY gabriel in a matter of like <10 or so seconds and it's so satisfying to see. i also just really like his va, scratches a very particular itch in my brain.

anyways before i get sidetracked over appreciating juno, the fundamental flaws of nightmare pass are essentially

you shouldn't need to buy both tiers to get the character. you should realistically need to buy the highest tier and by default it unlocks all previous tiers below it

ui is a bit confusing. i still don't get why f2ps have to unlock parts of nightmare pass that they can't even access/obtain. there should be a clear separation between what f2ps get, what advanced tier gets, and what premium tier gets.

it's too expensive. most bp's i know are ~$10 at the highest tier, though that's considering the fact that bp's i'm familiar with only give cosmetics rather than actual units

from what i've heard through the grapevine, beel (bath) is basically in the same formatting as all the other currently existing bath cards, which are all currently obtainable through gacha. beel has no reason to be in nightmare pass. it genuinely makes no sense as to why pb put him there aside from getting money and that in-turn alienates a majority of the fan base since we can't even view the prologue of card stories if they're a nightmare pass character.

when nightmare pass was first released during christmas, everything was in chaos. the fact that a nightmare pass character needed the other two limited gacha characters gameplay-wise is absurd (mind you, this was before we were given the chance to earn seals through weeklies). everything was too expensive, and rather than an enjoyable christmas event it felt like a "merry christmas, now give us money" kind of situation. i think nightmare pass should not be happening as frequent as it is now. the gap between gabriel and juno was perfectly fine (4 month gap btw), but for a nightmare pass to happen back to back on top of gacha events is too much for both f2ps and p2ws.

the point of buying packs, bp, anything that costs real money in a gacha game is so it makes your gameplay experience easier, paying shouldn't be the main component of your game. personally based on what i've experienced through playing gacha games you should theoretically be able to pull for almost every character on debut just by playing dailies/weeklies/events, yet here we get a bit over a multi per patch (this includes playing realm of seraphim).

DICTATING FANDOM INTERACTIONS

i wholeheartedly believe a fandom is what keeps a game alive. a hindrance to the fan base is a hindrance to the game, which can be seen with the aftermath of pb announcing that legal action will be taken if full stories of paid content are shared publicly. while i understand from a business standpoint that pb would want to enforce the "no sharing full story" thing for paid content since they want players to yk, buy the card, like i mentioned in the previous section, the majority of the player base just cannot afford it.

the people who posted full stories wanted to share to those who cannot afford it, some people may not want only tidbits of the story but rather the whole context, especially those who enjoy dissecting character lore but don't have the irl funds to fully experience it themselves. some people may even want to archive it, cause honestly no one knows how long this game will stay up and we want to archive story so that it's something we can easily look back on. to essentially make players borderline terrified on trying to figure out whether or not it's ok to publicly post stuff in relation to any sort of story content is absurd.

there is also that loophole of what is defined as a paid story. when events end and get put behind a paywall, does that now count as paid story or is that still ok? what about debut L-ranks that are behind seals and there's a 3 month downtime till they're added to standard? or is it just referring to nightmare pass characters? paid stories in the context of the state of the game right now is insanely broad, it's practically at least 50% of this game (i'm exaggerating (or maybe not i wouldn't be surprised if that was actually the case)).

i understand no datamining, while it technically speaking isn't illegal, it's disrespectful to the devs, but a lot of these call to action methods they're announcing are rather extreme imo.

with the most recent cards either being put to standard 3 months after their banner ends or flat out paywalled and not 100% guaranteed to have a rerun, story content as of late has been very sparse. what people want most is a main story update, which we were originally promised to be updated every 3 months and it is now month 6 and we still have nothing.

EVENTS AND EVENT STORIES

event stories being locked behind a paywall after the event ends is probably the first time i've ever seen a gacha game do this. most of the gachas i've played either don't archive event story at all and just rerun it every year, don't rerun or archive the event at all (i.e. if you miss it, cope and seethe), or they archive it for FREE. it feels insanely greedy how EVERY event story needs payment if you ever want to backread an old event.

what also concerns me is the fact like instances like gamigin's event or beleth's event carry so much lore for their respective region and that may never show up in main story, which then screws new players over in not knowing the full context behind every region. events like minhyeok's or bimet's are fine in the sense that it doesn't carry that much lore in comparison to the more recent events. the first few events were like silly banter and getting to know a bit more about the cast.

also changing the event shop from daily pies to a set limit per account was an awful choice it just emphasizes my point earlier of how unstable obtaining pies are in this game.

FULFILLING PROMISES

i think while it was a smart move to list what's gonna be implemented throughout the year, they shouldn't have stated deadlines on when they're doing so.

the following are the things that still aren't implemented yet as of making this post:

new daily chats (expected within february)

friends system (expected within march)

birthday system (more specifically celebrating your bday) (expected within april)

new main story chapter (new chapter expected every 3 months)

if pb were to just say "here's what to expect in 2024" and NOT give specific months, that's fine, but giving these specific months sets an expectation that they would complete it within that timeframe. main story for example is probably the one people have been anticipating the most. by now as of july, if we were to follow the expectation pb gave us, we would currently be on chapter 7, or at the very least chapter 7 would've been released some time this month. we have not even gotten chapter 6 yet. chapter 5 was released in january. it has been 6 months since the last main story update. failing to meet these timeframes will make people upset, because it was mentioned in the announcement that it's 1. a promise (i hope i'm not the only one that takes promises seriously) and 2. in bold yellow text, "what we can realistically expect to see in 2024." the only promises that were fulfilled on-time were the ones in january, the rest have been delayed by at least a month. if you're giving a timeline of what's happening, announce if there's any changes to that timeline, because not doing so will make players believe you were lying to them even though you probably aren't and are instead just falling behind schedule.

i think what hurts more to me is the fact that they aren't publicly communicating these delays. it shouldn't be our responsibility to find out why or when something isn't happening within the timeframe they promised (e.g. by emailing them), it should be up to the devs to communicate that publicly to us. i'm not saying they should overshare what's going on behind the scenes, it can simply just be a simple announcement of "hey, we're very sorry but we're having some technical difficulties with this certain feature and we need more time. here is some compensation in the meantime, thank you for your patience and again, we're very sorry." it's that simple.

FINAL THOUGHTS

i mentioned back in my intro that i feel like this game was released too early purely because the fundamentals of making a bare minimum decent gacha game are just not there. if every patch update has people complaining on what's just recently been added/removed, you're not fully listening to what the audience wants. while i understand pb is a small business, a business is still a business regardless of size and criticism/feedback is necessary especially in a game dev setting.

i've followed this game's news ever since it was teased, which was december of 2022, i've lurked/participated in the fandom (on here at least) ever since september of 2023. i've felt a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions of "omg this is so great" to "why is this even a feature," hoping that over time the game would get better, but the only thing that's improved was server stability (and even that's still a bit rocky 💀).

a huge part of my stay was just being a lurker in the fandom. i genuinely appreciate all the creatives who fulfill asked prompts of characters, make ocs, fanart, write theories, reactions + many more. i love seeing other people's works/opinions and having just a lively fandom made it all more fun.

but at this point this game is just not for me. i've really only stuck around to read mammon's lore but since main story hasn't been updated in 6 months i'll really only chime back in when there's finally an update. it still amazes me to this day that my patience lasted this long. i think i've covered everything i wanted to cover but my memory is swiss cheese so if i forgot something,,, woops 💀

as for the future of the spreadsheet for those who check back on it, it's still being managed by myself and windy, who has been a huge help since day 1 of creating the build lists and team comps and i honestly can't thank her enough for also enduring this pain of a game with me as we've worked on this spreadsheet together hgjdfgh (luv u bestie 🫶). though it's written in the narrative that both of us will eventually quit updating it entirely if this game persists on not having any signs of improvement. when that day comes i'll make sure to post an announcement about it.

as for myself i'm probably still gonna lurk in the fandom/keep an eye out on game news. i doubt i'll be making any fanart anymore unless if i really have the motivation/boredom for it, but currently i'm revamping the "aesthetics" of this account so nothing's really set in stone. maybe i'll make a few whb rambles here or there if some game news really irks me but for the most part i've already been in the process of moving on to other things.

if you've stuck around this long to read this mess of a post, thank you for sticking around and have a cookie, you deserve it 🫴🍪

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #176

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

He's gonna be Frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

Last time on The Frank Program, Frank caught Daryl watching something on his phone during recording, and he didn't like what he saw.

Daryl exploded out the door to the parking lot, anger in his stride, fear in his posture, and tears in his eyes. Chad, leaning on a car, got up immediately when he saw the kid running off.

“Hey!” He called out. Daryl wasn’t stopping for anything.

Cautiously, Chad poked his head back inside. Frank was stoic, silent in his host’s seat, a lit cigarette in his left hand. He took a drag from it and sighed out a puff of smoke.

“Come in, Mr. Graves. We oughtta finish the show.”

“You alright, bud?”

There were bags under Frank’s eyes that Chad didn’t recall seeing before. “I’m plenty content to finish recording.”

Graves sat down in his chair. The corner behind him was conspicuously empty. The chair which had been there before sat askew and on its side at the other end of the room.

“You know, Mr. Graves -”

“You can just call me Chad.”

“Well, Chad…” Frank took another hit. “I ain’t touched a cigarette in ten years. Kept this one in the studio just to prove to myself I didn’t need it.” He chuckled. “Funny how I keep proving myself wrong, huh?”

“How’s that?”

“Oh, the usual. I think o’ someone as a friend, or a wife, or… or a son. And I come to find they never were, really. They stab me in the goddamn back.”

“I take it that your chat didn’t go too well?”

Frank sneered. “You have no idea.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around. You know teenagers, I mean… I remember when I was a teenager, I got in arguments with my parents all the time.”

“We’re no stranger to arguments, Chad. This is somethin’ else. I’m losing my boy.”

“What exactly happened?”

Frank huffed and smothered his cigarette in the ashtray. “We better get back to my prepared questions.”

“Yeah…” Chad nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Frank shuffled through pages, looking for a question he still felt like asking. “Uh… Do you and your friends ever have creative differences when working on the show?”

“I don’t think we’d be as effective at doing our jobs if we did. Really, all four of us try to stay out of the creative side of things most of the time. Our producer decides what the story is for a given episode. He takes our full night of footage, and our analysis of the findings, and he gives that to his editor to make the pieces fit together.”

“Does the show replicate the experience of actually bein’ there, do ya think?”

“To be honest with you, I don’t usually watch it. Kind of a ‘been there, done that’ situation. But I have been channel surfing before and caught a rerun from a few years ago, and it definitely brought back memories.”

“Well that’s nice. Nice to have something to look back on. I guess I’ve got that too, huh? A little piece of the past… to bring back memories.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The nice thing about the show is it cuts out all the boring bits. The parts where we’re just sitting around, whispering to each other like we’re trying not to wake up the parents at a sleepover.”

“Right,” Frank said, a lump in his throat. “Those are the parts you really miss when they’re gone.”

Chad tilted his head to look around his microphone. “It’s gonna be okay, Frank. He’ll -”

“Mr. Graves, I don’t want another grown man to see me cry. So thank you for being here, but I must be signing off. Go ahead and tell the people where to find you.”

“I’m on all the socials as @GravesGhostVisions, so just search that up if you want to see where we’re headed next.”

“Thank you. This has been The Frank Program…” Frank struggled to get the words out without letting tears come with. “So long.”

[abstractdiagram]

Chapter two of my Tomarry fic is done! I think I’m mostly done with set up and what not. Next chapter I’ll get to the Wizarding world and Tom’s appearance. The end of chapter three will interlink with the beginning of chapter four and that’s been posted as a lone scene for now because I didn’t know where in the storyline it would be. So far I’ve looked up so much stuff! The hospital mentioned in this chapter was real and operational for civilians in the time frame of this story. The way he ends up in hospital is historically accurate as there was still bombing in Cardiff in May of 1944 (the “Baby Blitz”). The genetics needed for his appearance are feasible. So much research for stuff I don’t think anyone will care about! But it makes a difference to me.

Usual disclaimers apply: this is a draft and I’ll probably edit and change it a bit. I think after polishing what I’ve got I’ll start posting this on Ao3. So maybe even tonight if work stays subdued. But even with low census, shit can hit the fan so no promises.

@zenyteehee Tagging you for when you get back from where and whatever! Love ya darlin’!

The rest of you: the “heart” button is lovely and gives me hope that this story will continue but comments feed my soul! Please!

Chapter 2

The room was tiny and plain. Blank white walls and a pole with a single bag of fluids dripping slowly down into his arm. No monitors or charms with their numbers and wavelengths that constitute one’s vital statistics. So not modern. And probably muggle he thought as he sat up as best he could against headboard and packed the flat pillow behind him for support.

There was nothing to tell him where, or perhaps more importantly -when- he was but there was sunlight in the window and there was movement in the hall so he didn’t have to wait long for someone to notice him. A woman in a white skirt and a white hat pinned to flyaway greying brown hair popped in through the door. She looked shocked as she pulled up short in front of his bed and her mouth dropped just a little. Harry flicked his fingers at her in a small wave and tried to speak but it came out sounding more like Trevor than a human. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth before spinning on her heel and bolting back out. He could hear her hollering for “Doctor! Doctor! Any doctor! Oooh, come quick ‘e’s awake!”

Been out of the loop a while this - Harry ran a hand down his face and then just to be sure, over his groin - bloke has then if they’re so surprised he’s - I’m - awake.

Something felt odd and it took him a minute to realize that he wasn’t wearing and didn’t seem to need glasses. Lucky bastards that get to wake up to clear vision! He ran his hand down his face again. No stubble. So he was probably in a younger body, since he was pretty sure no one would take the time to shave a patient that’s evidently been out of it for a while.

Lifting his arms he noted the lack of muscle tone - not unexpected if this body had been in hospital any length of time but very disappointing after his own efforts of keeping his muscles in shape. His legs, too, were pale and frail looking when he lifted the covers. He didn’t have the look of one who started out fat before he ended up in here at least. He wouldn’t have that to contend with when he tried to get back into some semblance of shape. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole thing. On one hand he was in what appeared to likely be an older teenage body - the awkward gangliness of these limbs reminded him of his not-so-long-past teenaged years - and that had potential. On the other hand, well, how old he was supposed to be and where he was would dictate a lot.

The frazzly-haired nurse bustled back in, trailing a stooped, elderly gentleman with a stethoscope around his neck. “Ya see! Ya see Doc Basil! E’s got ‘is eyes open and sittin’ up and everything! Found ‘im like this a few minutes ago!” The nurse wasn’t as old as Harry had thought at first. The uniform and hair had aged her somewhat but her rapid-fire speaking and excited face put her closer to twenty than the thirty he’d first figured. The doctor though. He had to be at least two hundred.

“Now now girl, go get your BP cuff and your chart. Calm down and do it right.” The doctor’s voice was kindly and serene. It reminded Harry a bit of Dumbledore. The man’s beard was no where near as thick and long as Dumbledore’s had been and instead of long white hair he was bald as an egg and just as spotted. He tottered over to Harry and pulled his stethoscope from his neck. “I’m Dr. Basil. Deep breaths boy.” Harry did as he was told as the old man prodded and listened and prodded some more, and when the nurse returned he rattled off some numbers and abbreviations that she dutifully wrote down. “Seems you’re in fine physical fettle young man. Amazing since you’ve been unconscious for so long! Now. For the real test. What’s your name?”

Harry balked momentarily before a whisper in his mind supplied “Nathaniel Harrison Shelby.” He’d forgotten what Fred had said - that he’d keep enough of the memory of the body’s former owner to keep him out of trouble.

“Good good. And your birth date?”

Again came the whisper. “January third, 1927.” Bollocks.

“Do you know where you are?”

This time the whisper didn’t answer and Harry shook his head.

“Ah, I’d suppose not. Whitchurch Hospital, Cardiff. Not too far from where they brought you in from. Do you remember what happened?”

The whisper was accompanied by short flashes of memory. Of his - Nathaniel’s - parents hustling with him to a shelter they never made it to. Of a woman with long rippling black hair tugging at his hand and urging him on while a man ran along behind them urging them both. Of the screams and terror of the neighbors and the thunderous explosion right before a heavy weight slamming into his back and the woman’s - his mother’s - hand slipping from his own.

“A bombing,” it was a cracked rasp. “It was a bombing. Did they… did hi-“ he stopped himself and backtracked, “did my parents make it?”

The doc dropped his head slightly and frowned. “Your mother held on a little while but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. Your father.” He inhaled deeply and sniffed. “I’m sorry my boy. It was over quickly and he was never in any pain.”

Harry’s heart lurched. He knew he should feel devastated to hear this as the son of the deceased so he tried to look appropriately upset. He managed a more dazed look than tearful but it seemed to be an appropriately correct response as Dr. Basil hmmmed sadly and patted his hand before flinging his stethoscope back around his neck and exclaiming, “Right. Well. You seem to be all right upstairs too. I’ll have Meranda get you some water and we’ll get you started on your way out of here. Meranda?”

The nurse bobbed her head once and with a grin she disappeared out the door, followed by Dr. Basil. “Keep your chin up boy. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

He was almost out of view when Harry remembered to ask “What day is it?”

He wasn’t sure it was loud enough but Dr. Basil poked his head back in and said, “Oh, um. September 17th, 1944. You weren’t out -that- long. The world’s still the same as you left it!” With a chuckle he disappeared again, leaving Harry to stew.

What does he know about the world I left? Double fucking bollocks. 17 again in the middle of the Grindelwald’s power AND muggle World War II. Bollocks bollocks bollocks. He was tired and his body ached and he’d barely done anything but wake up.

Meranda came back with a glass of water and some white tablets. “Doc said to give ye these too. ’m Meranda by the by as ‘e said.” Harry smiled but it was wan.

“Thanks Meranda.” The glass was heavier than it should have been when he took it and he frowned as Meranda had to catch his hand and help guide the tablets and the water to his parched mouth.

“Let me help, ‘s that ok, Nat?” At Harry’s confused look she giggled nervously. “Oh, ‘m sorry. Only I been calling ye Nat while you was here and not talkin’. Only Nathaniel’s a mouthful and after four months I figure us as friends of a sort. So I named ye Nat. But I can use yer full name ‘f ye like!” She looked chagrined with a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Actually …” Harry called up his new full name and was pleased to realize his new middle name would be quite helpful. “Harry. If you don’t mind.”

“‘Arry. From yer middle name then?” She looked bemused.

“Erm. Yeah. Had a cousin with the same first name and another with the same middle. We decided I’d be ‘Harry’ to save our mums the hassle of sorting out who was who when we were in trouble.” The explanation came smoothly, and Harry momentarily wondered if it was because of a memory or if he was just that fast on his mental feet at the moment. The yawn that caught him up a split second later told him it was probably more a memory than not.

“Oh, ok, right then. Nice t’ finally meet ye ‘Arry!” Meranda grinned at him. “Ye need some rest, yeah? ’m sure after months of being a lump ye don’t fancy a kip right yet but ye’ve not been using yer muscles - physical or brainy ones - and they wear out fast when they’re no used to being used! Ye know?”

Harry didn’t argue as she put the glass down and helped him scoot back down and into the covers. “Thanks Meranda.” He closed his eyes.

“Yer welcome ‘Arry. I’ll see ye soon!” He was asleep before she was all the way out the door.

[queer-nanea-mitchell]

1870s Ballgown Part 4- Making the bodice

part 1, part 2, part 3.

For this project I'm, working with a silk taffeta I bought from Sew Thrifty, an online second-hand sewing store. I'd absolutely recommend buying from them, I got 2 meters for just over $30 Canadian including shipping which is a steal for silk taffeta!

Just like the Victorian pieces I'm basing this on, I flatlined the silk with a white cotton after cutting my pattern pieces. This basically involved doing basting stitches on every pattern piece.

I then went ahead and attached my side back and back bodice pieces, along with the front bodice which I joined at the shoulders.

Afterwards, I folded both the silk taffeta and the lining fabric inwards by a 1/4 inch to create a clean finish along the neckline, which I then secured by hand.

While I did as much by machine as I could, this project has involved a fair bit of hand-sewing, which isn't my forte. But I feel I'm improving as I didn't prick myself once!

Speaking of hand-sewing, I first hand-sewed the front bodice darts before securing them with machine stitches.

I then folded in the raw edges of the bodice front and blind-stitched them down to the lining.

Next, I attached this lovely delicate lace trim to the neckline by hand-sewing it to the lining, leaving just a little peaking out.

And this is where I hit a bit of a roadblock...In my bodice mockup post you'll notice I originally planned for a pleated piece to be attached to the neckline, replicating the trim seen on extant 1870s dresses. However, when I pleated and then pinned on my full trim it did not look good at all. I didn't even take a picture of it, but it sat really strangely due to its length and the fact it was essentially a long straight strip of fabric.

Which means I need to rethink the bodice decoration. I could leave it as it is with the lace, however I think that will look pretty plain.

Another idea is creating a thin, vertically pleated trim, like in this dress.

Or I could create some sort of ruffled bertha, like in one of the inspirations for this project. Though I'm not quite sure how I would draft this so that it lay properly along the neckline.

If anyone has any tips or suggestions they would be greatly appreciated!

[bomberqueen17]

surviving march

well so. here we are. well into march. surviving.

i had no real symptoms of covid and i still don't, except that i'm just so tired. i could sleep ten hours a day. of course i can't sleep that long in bed, i still wake at my normal time without an alarm but with cat help, i just get out of bed and i'm just dizzy with exhaustion. (Usually metaphorically. today, literally.) but i wake up, i get myself together, i go about my business. and then, if i have a moment, at late morning, or early afternoon, or late afternoon, i will lie down for a moment, and if i don't do something to prevent it i will sleep two hours. and then come evening, an hour earlier than usual, i will go to bed, and i will sleep until my usual time. endlessly. normally i can get by on 6-7 hours in a night, with a good 8 hour lie in on weekends, but no more.

anyway. i don't have time for that, unless i give up everything but work. i have been leaving work slightly early, and not going in any earlier. i'm paid hourly, who gives a shit. i'm tired.

but, other than that, i do feel fine. the pokey mans has helped me remember to get up from my desk and walk around sometimes at least.

the pokey mans remains... mostly fun. i occasionally hit snags. i finally posted in frustration in the local Discord asking for tips on beating the one boss I just couldn't manage (Giovanni, if you're familiar), and the collective wisdom was, get better guys, which i was like i'm trying, and they were like no really, friend all of us, and whoever makes ultra with you first, we'll meet up at the weekly raid nite and we'll trade you a better guy, and I said i don't have anything cool to trade back? and three different people were like i don't need anything back i have extra guys, please take one. so that was actually a really nice interaction.

Every Wednesday is Raid Night, which is apparently universal-- from 6-7pm, wherever you are, there are simultaneous raids and mega raids and whatnot. Our local group is smaller than it once was, and so has condensed: one guy coordinates a "raid train" that goes down Hertel Ave, which is a dense urban street with a ton of gyms, and so he opens the remote lobbies of successive gyms at like. seven-minute intervals? somebody did the math at some point. And that's enough time to get from one to the next on foot for a fair distance, but it's also of course very easy for remote raiders to dial in.

It doesn't cost them anything if I tag along-- you can only send so many invites, but if you're in person you can just physically bop into the lobby. So there I was, with my tiny little guys, and a half-dozen level 45+ veterans with huge leveled-up mega pokemons dialed in, and I would gamely swing at the raid boss a couple of times and meanwhile the other half-dozen people would pummel the thing into the ground in a matter of seconds.

I've tagged along twice now, and I can manage like. Three gyms before I'm frozen. This time I brought Dude along, and he sat in a bar and drank a beer and ate some cheese sticks, and after about half an hour I came puffing back along the street and hopped onto the barstool next to him and got some chicken fingers and chattered about the great pokey mans I just caught. He's having a stressful time at work so it was good to get him out of the house.

I'm trying to find it all fun and funny, and mostly I'm succeeding, but I'm just so tired.

I did clear out a bunch of old drafts so my queue should be interesting for a bit.

I'm writing, it's just not getting finished. But I'm writing. I'll get there.

[roslynwrites]

What was your thought process for when you started Incendiary to where you are now ?

Oh hmm, you know....I started so long ago it's hard to say. Probably my relationship with my writing process has changed most, I've just learned a lot about what works for me and what doesn't and I assume I'll keep learning. At the beginning I knew it was going to be a big and intimidating project so I wanted to have some structure and I tried outlining because every writing resource ever is like "you need a PLAN." Even when I searched for help with outlining for pantsers it was always like "oh you don't need much, just every plot beat!" Lmao. So, I hated it, but I sat down & tried to map out most of the major stuff, and while I do think that it helped to have a general idea, I could have done much less, I always veer off from it anyway. Sooo currently I suppose I'm at a place where I'm learning to accept that I work from a place of intuition and feel, not structural, planned logic, and I'm contemplating the tweaks I'll have to make accordingly, mostly for future projects because sadly it's a bit late to apply this knowledge to Incendiary. (I may have to do the entire first or even second draft before posting, for example, since I likely have to draft it all out before I go back and see if everything holds up structurally and hits beats....doing that part after, not before).

[elsiebrayisgay]

For the ask game: 3, 16 and 17 😊

um yeah! 3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic so this has changed a lot since i started writing prose, tbh, but there are some hallmarks of my process that have stayed the same. the absolute first thing that has always remained true whether it's been more academic, poetry (which is what i did for my degree,) TTRPG stuff, or now prose fanfic, is that no matter what no matter where no matter when if i have an idea i do my best to write it down. i have lost too many good ideas to not being sure what i had thought up and being certain i'd remember it. so often when i am laying in bed drifting off to sleep and thinking about my work, i will grumble and sit up and unlock my laptop to type out some notes.

another thing that was true for a while and still holds up somewhat today (with caveats) is that when i get inspired by something, i *write*. the first chapter of sourceless bruises was written in one evening after i got home from being out at dinner. i'd had vague concepts and ideas floating around for months before then but when it finally hit me i just sat down and wrote. this doesn't really happen as much anymore because even though i have the inspiration and the hyperfixation, i just don't have the energy to be up and in such high gear for so long, so i need to break it up more. this was true of my poetry and essays for school as well, though; i would just sit down start turning work out when i wanted or needed to.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

alright so i've been kind of trying to figure out what i want to write after sourceless bruises. i took kind of a long break between my first fic and my second fic (more of these queer feelings... it's probably nothing on ao3) because i was just sort of waiting to have an idea i felt really solid about working on and that's how long it took. partially because sourceless bruises is a bigger project and is taking longer, these days i have a lot more ideas for what to work on next kicking around. none of them are really formed into anything super cogent, because i pretty strictly keep myself to one involved/long-term creative project at a time. however, things i have been interested in developing once i have wrapped up sourceless bruises in no particular order:

i have a draft started for a sequel to more of these queer feelings. it's mostly outlined, but i hadn't really gotten far into the drafting process.

korrasami modern au. this kind of setting adaptation is my bread and butter, if you couldn't tell. i posted a joke about this sort of idea on tumblr a while back but it actually got a lot more traction than i was expecting and so honestly i'm thinking about putting some more work in on it.

cait/vi (vilyn?) has been really interesting to me recently. i dunno, something about those girls. so i've been thinking about early stages of what i might want to do with them, whether to give them my normal au treatment or try something else.

i have also been working a bit on a premise for some original fiction. i will only say at this point that it will be horror/mystery and probably be a fair bit bleaker than what i tend to write for ao3 (though honestly i have no idea how i would go about publishing original fiction.)

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

okay so at this point it's time to circle back to the first answer in this post because honestly the truth of how i go about writing chapters these days falls a lot more under this question than that more general one. the first thing i'm going to say is that in my opinion, writing is labor. there's an old interview with john darnielle and john k. samson (among others) where JD talks about how there's no such thing as convenience store clerk block, or coal miner's block, so writers shouldn't get blocked—they should just keep sitting down to write, and to some extent i believe in that idea, but i want to add nuance. i think there probably is such a thing as convenience store clerk block, and coal miner's block, it's just that society doesn't allow or expect them to take breaks, or go on sabbatical or whatever. so they end up working through, and maybe burning out. i think that labor is something that any person, in any field, needs to take at their own personal sustainable pace. it's really easy, as a writer, to compare yourself to others. word counts on ao3, stories published, etc. but i think it's very important to listen to your mind and body about what you need as a creative person and also just as a person. if you've got nothing right now, i think it is important to try allowing your mind to simply lie fallow. there's that post about mental crop rotation, and about letting your mind have time where it isn't expected to turn out anything that needs to get put on a page. i think respecting that need is pretty important. this philosophy is how i've been going about writing since i got out of school.

this ties into the actual difficulty i've mostly been having with sourceless bruises. around late 2022/early 2023 i had some life circumstances cause my chronic illness to get a lot more severe, from which i have never fully recovered. this has meant that my pain is a lot worse, and my energy levels are a lot lower. what i used to be able to do with turning out thousands of words a day when i was really inspired happens only very rarely now, when those moments line up with my good days. there's another post on here (somewhere in my reblogs) talking about what to do as a fic writer when your capabilities change, and a lot of the advice on that post has stuck with me. accepting my limits and working within them has definitely meant that my process is a lot slower, especially during flares (and once the weather warms up in the spring i am mostly stuck in one big flare until fall) but it also means that i get to maintain the quality of what i produce and my own quality of life. in these periods, i mostly just try to carve out a bit of time every day when i am able to sit up, usually only fifteen or twenty minutes or so, to peck away at my draft. i sit down, get a paragraph or two dealt with, maybe look at a bit of research, maybe not, and at the end of it i have maybe two hundred more words than i did before. some days, i don't even feel up to this. sometimes i go a week without doing it. but i try to just carve out some time when i can to peck away and eventually i end up with a finished chapter. that's really what my creative process looks like these days.

[deardragonbook]

Why I rarely post here anymore (despite having a bunch of drafts that I just need to edit and post)

So, I keep meaning to come back here and edit some of my writing advice posts, ones like: “Writing Reference: Life After a Long Term Relationship Ends”, “Write What You Need, but Also What You Can”, “How to miscommunication”, and another 15 posts. 

Why haven’t I been active? 

Well, for a while I’ve just been too depressed to create anything anywhere. 

But I stopped Tumblr first, why? 

Well, today I was reminded when I logged into TikTok which is a powerful marketing tool which as an author I can’t ignore, and found one of my tumblr posts copies and pasted, no credit, nothing to indicate the posters wasn’t the original author. 

So, I sat in bed at 3 in the morning crying for an hour. 

I don’t care when posts don’t do well, that’s to be expected. 

I don’t expect to profit from these posts. 

But, to have another author (because this user has books for sale in the link their bio), just copy and paste something I put time and effort into, and receive 400k views, more than I’ve ever received on a video, when I used to post his same advice to my account. 

It made me realize that, each post I create is another post that will profit other people who just don’t care about the original creator and will steal that work. (Because copying and pasting my post is stealing)

That hit me hard. 

Right now, I don’t want to share my posts; I want to keep to myself because I don’t want to be crying at 3 am while other people profit off of my work. 

And I know that’s just the way of the internet, but it still hurts. It hurts more than I know how to put into words. I just don’t want to share the stuff I create, I want to be in a bubble where at least my work is my own even if nobody sees it.