#intro update incoming!!!

[blueberrythefrog]

I should probably update my intro card.. I need to add that Kinitopet is a current fixation!!!! How could I forget, if my blog is themed around it right now!?!? Goodness, I am forgetful!! Also here have pirate cat that I edited;

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your eyes narrow as you hunch over the folding TV table. You work at tamping the felt in just the right shape. The headless body, made of metal wire encased in more felt sits on the corner, awaiting its final touch. Your vision is cloudy at the edges. You let yourself have a cry last night at the cost of puffy eyes today. Those grey moods exhaust you.

You sigh as you blend the grey black and white. The small raccoon will be the first of many. At least twelve for stock. 

A hobby and some extra income. You need it since they cut your hours to part-time. All the data entry firms are. You read on a forum that AI is slowly depleting the field. You don't relish going back to customer service... you're not very good at it. You can hardly make yourself smile at your reflection.

You sniff. You look up at the corner shelf, stuffed with similar figures to the one in pieces before you. Squirrels, bunnies, lots of cats. Those are a best-seller.

You put the head and needle down. You can't focus. Usually, the work puts a pause on the gloom. The grey sky outside your windows doesn't help. You sit back and press your hand around your forehead. You knead your temples with your thumbs.

It's too quiet. Well, not exactly. You can hear Katy yelling at her teens and Mr. Burton is hammering on the wall again. He needs to just call the building for whatever he keeps trying to fix. Or maybe he's breaking it?

You get up and go to the record player. You lay on the one album you've yet to listen to. That new poppy hit. It's probably a few years too young for you. You're in the limbo between twenty-five and thirty. A murky no man's land where all your friends are newly married, freshly pregnant, or celebrating promotions. You're doing neither of those.

You let the record spin the intro and retreat to the sagging armchair. The seat is molded to your shape but not comfy. You lean on the high armrest and close your eyes.

Oh, I leave quite an impression Five feet to be exact You're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin' My body's where they're at

You chew your cheek as you follow the lyrics as best you can. Scandalizing, scintillating, sexy. Not you. Maybe that was a bad choice. This is music for the young girls with their long lashes and coy glossy smiles. That was never you.

Affairs, flings, hookups, whatever the young ones say...situationships? You're not the type. You're not good for it. Too sad. Too quiet. You overheard the giggly whispering. It's your own fault you don't see your friends. Or that they aren't your friends anymore. 

Knowing what they really think of you... you're not good at pretending like that. You can smile, you can chirp, you can run a script with stranger, but they were supposed to actually like you.

Choices can be liberating but they can also be oppressive. Cut the cord and you're free falling into the void. You sit up as the next song starts.

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't

You wish you had that confidence. You get up and turn down the volume so you can hear the melody but the lyrics are obscured. You shuffle over to the couch and flop onto it. You're tired. Another night wasted.

🧡

Punk Rock Market. You've never been to one. Never heard of one. The flyer was mixed in with your mail. Bills, adds, some religious pamphlet. It was the only thing that piqued your interest. You keep it on your fridge until the date of. 

You clutch it in your sweaty hand. It wrinkles as you keep checking the address. It's at an intersection. Hmmm. Okay. You think you know the one.

It's a few blocks further than you thought. You follow the swell of pedestrians into the browning green square. The grass is flattened from the traffic. Second thoughts slow your steps but the tides of patrons keep you moving.

You stop to look at jade and quartz medallions. Hand-made as the signs proclaim. The women behind the stall table have thickly-winged liner and lots of piercings. Their hair is shades of burnt-out bleach blond and pastels. One asks if you're looking for something in particular.

"Just look, I guess," you answer with a shrug. You bend to examine a cuff with opal. "Very pretty."

They don't hear you as they're already more interested in a customer who looks more like them. You move on. It's not unusual. Those who notice you, don't for long. Or if they do, it's never a good thing.

You stop to admire some hand-sewn dolls with twists of cotton for hair. You sell most of your things online, or a few places let you buy half a shelf for display, though they don't sell many. Something like this might be a good idea but you saw the prices for the other markets... you don't have that sort of overhead.

You're edged out of the stall by a group of platformed-booted shoppers. You back away and collide with a stroller. You spin and apologise, a glower from the mother and her husband as you do. You're trapped between them and the distracted group behind you.

Your heart picks up. You should've expected crowds but this is a bit much. You look around. You'll only hit the stroller again or someone else. You search until you see your only hope of escape. Between the stalls, right past the empty crates and thick electrical wires.

You flee, keeping your head down in case one of the sellers thinks to stop you. Your pulse tempos behind your eardrums. You curl around the back of the stalls and race toward the park entrance. You're going to call it another fail.

You slip out between a stall and the post of the banner for the market event. You're nearly taken off your feet as someone entering hits you with their arm. A rather thick arm that has you reeling and rubbing your side. You back up as the figure stops with a gruff growl.

It can't be. You're sure you recognise them. It's almost impossible to run into the same face twice in the city. Yet, your luck has always been grimly ironic.

As the deja vu clicks. You gulp. It's the man from the record store. You pout.

"Sorry, I..."

"What're you creeping around for?" He snarls.

"I... I was leaving--"

"Why were you back there?" He asks.

"Huh, oh, I got lost--"

"Dude, chill," his buddy peeks past him. "Place is packed."

The man's fist opens and closes, drawing your attention as his jaw grits. "I could get... through." You eke out.

"You," he raises his gloved hand and points in your face. "Girly pop."

You blink. Oh no. He remembers you.

"I..." you shrug. "Sorry, excuse me," you try to slip by and he catches your arm. 

"You didn't answer me. What were you up to?" He drags you back as others grumble behind you, pushing to get into the park.

"Yo, she told you," his friend jabs. "Chill, Buck. Let's get going."

He narrows his eyes as his forehead lines. He squeezes until you feel your blood struggling to course past the tension. He lets you go with a subtle shove.

"Whatever," he turns back to his pal. "Let's go find that oil or whatever you were going on about."

He stalks by and you turn to watch him. He's not a very happy person but neither are you. You turn and flee before he can have second thoughts. Strange how his friend seemed familiar too.

You head down the street and reach for your phone. Maybe you'll find something else. Going back to your apartment just means giving in to the grey. It's a sunny day, you want to enjoy it.

There's a cafe near here. They boast of nitro brew and protein coffee. You're not sure of either but they must have tea.

You get lost a block down and have to back track. You can be so clueless. You finally find the front door, though it is easy to miss. Black windows, black glass, like some sort of secret meetup.

You enter and join the line. It's not much less crowded than the park. You wait patiently for your turn and order the 'booster' tea.

You shove your hand deep into your satchel. You fish around frantically. Your wallet? Where is it? You blink helplessly at the employee behind the counter and apologise.

You run out and look up and down the street. Your wallet is gone. You feel around your pockets and all over. You retrace your steps, along your detour and back to the market. You gape into the sea of people. There's no way you'll find it!

What can you do? Cancel your card and figure out how to replace your IDs... figures. Nothing nice ever happens. Every idea you have is just a mistake. Go home. Stop trying.

🧡

The New York skyline looms darkly through the windows. The moonless night invades your apartment, the single lamp doing little to light the space. You sit in its glow, shoulders wracked, neck bent, tediously poking the pattern into the felt. The leopard was an optimistic choice in subject.

The record player turns. Etta croons richly as the clock ticks on. It's midnight, probably later. You haven't checked in some time. You can't sleep but you also can't bare to lay and stare at the ceiling.

Your tendons strain with your efforts. Everything is so precise. Your fingers feel as if they might lock into place. Your head is throbbing.

The record plays through Side B and the player clicks. You don't get up to stop it for some time. Your hands shake as you put the needle back and hit the power button.

You push your head back and stretch out the kinks. Your stomach clutches with hunger. Dinner is in the fridge still. You didn't bother reheating the pasta.

You close your eyes as you rub your cheeks. You yawn then drop your arms. You look around the empty box you live in.

You flinch. The windows are so dark, obscured with the reflection of the lamp, yet you swear you can see something. You shake your head. You're imagining it.

You got back to the table and gather up the felt and unfinished project. You have a few new orders. You need to go get some packing stuff to send them out. You tuck it away in the shoe box and slide it onto the cube shelf beneath the record player.

Tap, tap.

You raise your head and look over your shoulder. Something must have bounced off the window yet there's no wind, no rain. The weather is painfully still.

You ignore it and stand. You go back to the table to shut off the lamp.

Tap. Just one but louder. You keep your fingers on the switch attached to the wire but don't flick it. You glance over.

Slap. Something presses to the pane. You can't tell what it is. Small, rectangle. You near as your adrenaline flows and your heartbeat thrums. Something tells you to go back but it's impossible that anyone could be there. There's no fire escape, no balcony. The building is short a few codes.

You stop at the window as your face stares back. The small image on your ID where you don't smile, just stare. DOB, height, number...

Another face appears behind the small card. A scream blooms in your chest but can't escape as the man stares back at you. He taps again. How on earth did he get out there? That man. That one from the record shop and the market. The one you seem to plague more than your own sanity.

He tilts his head and mouths. 'Let me in.'

[vaspider]

Intro Post, updated January 16, 2025.

Due to the unfortunate level of scam requests I have received, I no longer reblog donation or fundraiser requests from blogs I do not recognize. Don't follow me just to submit a signal boost request. I notice, & I will just delete your ask and block you.

No, that doesn't mean I think you, personally, are a scammer. I just don't have the hours in my day to sift through the number of asks I get and verify them, so if I don't recognize someone from prior interaction, I just won't do it. Yes, I agree. It does suck that shitty people have made this necessary.

I post all other asks as they were submitted, with the exception of fundraisers from blogs I don't recognize. I answer at my whim and not upon demand. I will never honor requests to answer asks privately or anonymously. Anon is never turned on. These are hard self-care boundaries. Please block the tag "harassment tag" if you don't want to see to some of the horrible shit I get sent sometimes.

I will only reblog/repost/boost a given fundraiser once every 7 days. Period. Sending me more asks will not change that. If you only interact with me to ask for signal boosts, I'll just block you with no response. That is the only exception to my "post all asks" policy. I am a person, not a public resource. Don't make me feel used. It's exhausting.

If you like what I do, please consider hiring me, buying something from my company, NerdyKeppie, buying me a coffee, becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar. I am a disabled, queer, Jewish, non-binary butch, and those sources plus freelance writing are my entire income.

Here is the cast of many of the frequently-mentioned entities in my posts.

I will not debate my identity with anyone. I am a transmasculine non-binary butch lesbian, a cripple, a dyke, and lots of other things, too. You don't get a vote in that, and if any of those words are words you object to someone using in reference to himself, block me. I won't censor my identity for your comfort; it took a lot of hard work over decades to become proud of who I am.

ACAB includes gender/sexuality cops. You aren't the mayor of Dyketown or the burgermeister of Transberg, so fuck off.

Mom is a job title to me. I'm okay with being called Mama Spider, but no other feminine terms.

No, I am not an anti or an anti-anti. Leave me alone.

No, I won't DM you.

No, I won't answer your question about Israel.

No, I won't talk to you about I/P.

Nothing above the above two things means anything other than that I don't talk about those things online.

Don't project your shit onto me. I do not consent to being your straw man.

I will not perform Good Jew or Good Queer on demand, whatever that means to you in this instant. Fuck off.

Yes, I've been out for a very long time. No, I'm not interested in being lectured by people half my age over shit that happened when you weren't alive yet.

"Man bad/woman good" is regressive TERF/right-wing shit, it doesn't matter how you dress it up. Knock it off.

Curate your own experiences. If you don't like seeing what I write, then add 'vaspider' to your "filtered content" list, and don't bother me about it. Tumblr is a 17+ environment, and I am not responsible for you seeing things you don't like. My daughter and stepkid are both old enough to drink. I raised my kids. I'm not raising you or any other kids.

Anyone who tries to turn you on your fellow workers or trans people or queer people or fellow Jews is doing the work of fascists for them. Act accordingly.

My icon has lore, apparently.

I never answer asks privately and anon is never turned on.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 18

Hey, guys! I'm back!!! I had a great and very productive hiatus, the results of which can be found here.

But tl;dr is that this story is complete, so it will be regularly updated on Sunday until it's done. Then I will release the story that started this all "The Rise of The Fallen" in two parts, also on Sundays. Which will take us all the to December, if you can believe it.

I'm still working on the other stories and at least The Hellfire Exotic Club (stripper), The Caged Bird Still Sings (sugar!baby), and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic swimmer) are all going to be fairly long so that should be exciting. Then I'll be working on the fun little game show story now called "A Love Connection". Which won't come out until one of the others ends. Sorry. But WIP Wednesday will show you teases of it until then.

I recommend rereading the previous chapter to refresh your memory and away we go!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

~

Steve was riding on the best high. Their next song was “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls”. The song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary folks, despite the title. There was nothing in the world that could compare to crowds screaming your name. It didn’t even matter that the name they were screaming wasn’t Steve, it was Abbadon.

He stumbled into the green room that had all their stuff in it. Corroded Coffin had taken the stage and him and his boys were relaxing with their masks off, Hopper at the door.

“I’ve never been so nervous in my life!” Shane said after downing an entire water bottle. “That crowd was massive! And diverse! Usually we just get college aged kids but there were literal kids out there and old time rockers too.”

“Shit, yeah,” Spence said, pushing his hood off his head to splash a little water on his head. He didn’t have a spotlight on him but wearing all black still made for a hot set.

Shane laid down on the floor, sprawled out spread eagle. “Is this is what real fame is like?”

Steve slid off the chair he was sitting in, to sit next to him. “God, I have such mixed feelings about that if it is. Because the energy was off the charts and I’m pretty sure I sung my heart out...”

“But you aren’t sure you keep up with it for the whole tour?” Simon asked quietly.

Steve threw his head back to rest on the seat of the chair. “Yeah. I don’t want to burn out before I turn thirty, you know?”

“You should talk to Eddie about what they do not to burn out,” Spence suggested. “Because they’ve been doing this for ten years and longer tours than this.”

Steve hummed his agreement.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Celeste, incoming,” Hopper muttered, before opening the door.

Anyone in view of the door, put their mask over their face and then off again when the door closed behind their manager.

“Good job, guys,” Robin said cheerily and sat down on the floor between Shane and Steve. “I just got off the phone with Vickie and she says social media is going batshit insane about the song and Steve’s intro. And it’s good. Like really good. There are some assholes, but it seems that even the media and music critics are calling it the next gay anthem.”

“What are they saying?” Simon asked, sitting up on the sofa and scooting to the edge.

Robin grinned. “This is my favorite one: Heaven is where the assholes are, we always knew all the good people were in hell. Keep up the good work, Abbadon and all of the rest of The Fallen. From Metallica’s official Twitter.”

The room was deathly silent for all of two seconds before they all erupted into gleeful screams. They all jumped on her and started hugging her tightly.

“Get off me! Get off me!” she shrieked. “You’re all sweaty and gross!”

They deliberately smeared themselves all over her before they got off, giggling like children.

“Boys!” she huffed dramatically. “So gross. I swear you lot don’t grow up you just get older.”

Steve leaned over and gave a huge kiss on the cheek. “Probably, but you wouldn’t love us if we were any different.”

Robin swiped her cheek in an exaggerated fashion. “Maybe, but boys are still gross.” She went on to tell them all things that Vickie was sending her about the world’s reaction to the song.

Then after a while she bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Go on. I know you want go watch some of the show, I’ll hold down the fort here.”

Steve smiled at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He got to his feet and put his mask back on. After checking to make sure no one was in view, he knocked on the door for Hopper to let him out.

Once the door closed, Robin let out a long sigh. “I worry about those two.”

“Who?” Shane said, sitting up for the first time. “Steve and Eddie? Why?”

She nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her chin between her knees. “Being in the closet is hard. And I know Abbadon has come out, but he’s still in the ‘closet’ as it were about his identity and Eddie and Steve having to hide their relationship on top of Steve hiding who is... let’s just say that great relationships then theirs have crumbled under the pressure.”

The room was silent as they all took that in.

“Are we just doomed from having relationships?” Spence asked. “Are we all destined to be lonely?”

Simon’s lips quivered. “I hate that I have all these women throwing themselves at me but they really don’t care who’s under the mask.”

“I hit up every gay bar in every city we tour in as me,” Shane muttered picking at the skin around his nails, “and I don’t know if it’s worse they don’t know who I am than if I had gone as Astraeus.”

“I’m trying to have a girlfriend,” Spence said bitterly, “but all I can tell her is that I travel for work. And yeah it’s new enough she isn’t asking as what, but how much longer can I dodge that question?”

Robin let out another sigh. “I know, and it’s not as though I can really date either. Are they dating the goofy lesbian Robin, or the sophisticated fashion plate, Celeste? But with Eddie I think Steve has it harder.”

“It’s because Eddie is famous, huh?” Simon asked, sliding off the sofa to sit next to Shane on the floor.

Spence got up and curled up around Shane. Robin inserted herself into the pile and they just cuddled until the show was over.

~

Steve wanted to be on that stage more than anything, just singing with Eddie, happy and free. But he was Abbadon right now and while he might get away with it, Steve didn’t feel comfortable with the not being able to kiss his boyfriend senseless.

He waited until the it’s almost time for the encore before he slipped back into the green room. Everyone else is already changed and gone. It’s just Robin as Celeste waiting for him.

“How did he not have a boyfriend before now?” Steve muttered as he pulled on the khakis and blue polo shirt of his ‘uniform.’

Robin snorted. “For the same reason you went pretty thin on the dating field. He was hung up on a special someone.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I’m assume you think it’s me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it lay straight after being hidden under the hood for so long.

Robin got to her feet and leaned down to look him in the eye. “Are you telling me you don’t?”

Steve looked away. Robin gently lifted his chin and then held his face her hands. “Steven Kincade Harrington, you listen to me close. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of care. You are worthy of attention. And Eddie Munson is one hundred percent onboard to give all three. Of course he was waiting for you. Any person with eyes can see how much he loves you. Fuck, Simon bristles every time he’s brought up now because instead him being your protector like it used to be, it’s Eddie.”

Steve stared at her with his mouth wide open. “Simon’s jealous of Eddie?”

Robin laughed and kissed his stupid head.

“Babe,” she said fondly. “Spence and Shane have been beating him off with a stick every time Eddie comes around.”

“But Simon doesn’t protect me,” Steve said tilting his head to the side. “I protect him. He’s so painfully shy outside of the band and he’s always curled up on my lap.”

“Please tell me you aren’t that naive,” she said. “He is always sticking up for you about your writing, about your singing. When it comes to band stuff Simon is the biggest mama bear of them all.”

Steve blinked at her for a moment and then mouthed the word “Oh.”

“You are such a dingus,” she said shaking her head. “But you’re my dingus so that evens it out a bit.”

He pushed her playfully. “I’m going to get out there before people wonder where the missing EMT is.”

He slipped out a different way from when he came in and she watched him go. Steve was brilliant at a lot of things, people included. But he always had a blindspot when it came to when other people caring for him.

She sighed and then made her way out of the green room so that Corroded Coffin could unwind now.

Robin passed Chrissy on the way out.

“Hey,” Chrissy said with a huge smile. “My boys want to go afterwards with your boys, you think they’d be down?”

“Of course they would!” she replied. “As The Fallen or no?”

Chrissy slapped her palm to her forehead. “Shit I forgot. As The Fallen. But they have casual masks to go in right?”

Robin smiled back at her. “It’s fine, of course they have casual masks. I’ll let them know. It’ll have to be much later because they have to be see as normies for a bit before they slip back into The Fallen.”

Chrissy winked and tapped the side of her nose. “I got you.”

Just then all the Corroded Coffin boys came bursting from the stage into the wings, whooping and screaming. They huddled together, arms around each other and counted to twenty.

Once they got to one, Eddie screamed whooped again and all four of them ran back on stage.

Robin blinked at them for a moment. “Didn’t they just have an encore?”

Chrissy threw back her head and laughed. “Depending on the city they can do anywhere from two to five encores.”

“Holy shit!” Robin said in genuine awe. “That’s insane.”

“It’s not even their record,” she said.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s no way.”

“Six in Salt Lake City,” she explained. “Just coming off their third album, the one with eight singles. Which was too many in my opinion but apparently a couple radio stations thought there were a really good deep tracks and played. Then it got around, yaddy yadda. You get the drift.”

“But six?” Robin asked a little unsure.

Chrissy nodded. “Salt Lake is crazy for that shit though. I’ve heard bands go there if they want their ego stoked.”

“Any bands avoid it for that reason?” Robin giggled.

“I have no doubt there are,” she said with a hum. “Most of the time bands whine about the lack of boobs and booze when they refuse to go back.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Men are so gross.”

“Agreed,” she replied with a wink. “Go lesbian power.”

Robin fist bumped her. “I’ve got to go look like a PA schlep for awhile. I’ll text you when they’re free.”

“You’ve got it girlie!” Chrissy said.

~

Eddie was not pleased that they were at a bar. A bar was the last place he wanted Gareth to be right now.

But he insisted he would be fine and seemed for the most part to be sticking to a cherry coke, but Eddie was keeping an eye on him.

Things were actually going well until...

Astraeus let out a yelp of pain.

Abbadon and Azrael were on their feet in an instant, Asmodeus close behind. There was a little action going on so Eddie couldn’t see what happened, but oh boy did he see the aftermath.

Standing behind The Fallen’s bassist was an asshole with his phone up, filming and another guy yanking on Astraeus’ hood.

“Get off of him,” Abbadon hissed. “Or else.”

Abbadon was the shortest of his band, but fuck in that moment, he looked the most intimidating.

The dude with phone scoffed. “Or what? I’m filming you, you can’t do shit.”

Steve let out a huge ear-piercing whistle and yelled, “Security!”

The two dudes’ eyes went wide as they turned to scramble away from their table, but ran into two very meaty looking guys flanking Hopper.

“You two boys going somewhere?” the head of security asked, low and dangerously.

“We weren’t doing anything!” the one dude said. Not the one with the phone, but the one who had pulled on Astraeus’ hood.

“Yeah?” he asked. “And would these boys say the same?”

The asshole with the phone scoffed. “They’re just a bunch of weird, rich assholes, they’d say whatever.”

“And the security cameras won’t show you filming your friend here, yanking on this man’s hoodie?”

The two dudes looked at each in actual fear for the first time.

“And by the way, that’s assault,” Hopper continued to press. “So unless you want to be arrested, you’ll delete that little videos of yours unless you really, really want to broadcast your crime to the internet.”

The guy with the phone had Hopper watch him delete it off his phone.

“Good,” he said, “now these two gentlemen are going to escort out of the building, a building you’ll never be allowed to come back to ever again.”

After Hopper left with the bouncers and the two idiots, Gareth turned to them.

“Shit,” he said, “that was fucking terrifying. Does that happen a lot?”

Abbadon and Azrael exchanged a glance.

“More than it really should,” Azrael said. “It’s why Ellie designed a hoodie that would be harder to yank off. The trade off unfortunately is that hurts like a bitch when it’s pulled.”

“That fucking sucks, man,” Jeff said. “The next round of drinks is on me.”

Eddie nodded, but inside he was screaming. He didn’t know that this was something the band experienced at all. And even if he didn’t know who they were, that would still freak him out. But it was worse knowing it was Steve that they were doing this to.

Abbadon squeezed his hand under the table. It didn’t reassure him, not really, but it was still nice that Steve recognized his turmoil.

The night was a little more subdued after that as the Corroded Coffin boys thought about the implications of what just happened and The Fallen boys because all they wanted was a fun night out and it was ruined.

~

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

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6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

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8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

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10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[edenspoem]

ellie's thighs 🐇+ blog updates

thanks for 600!! can't believe im growing this fast. my schedule has cleared up after vacation so i'll be able to really put my all into two peculiar swans!! sm juicy stuff is gonna be in there so if u want 2 be on the taglist pleaseee leave a note saying so!! a teaser for the vol 2 smut scene is out so go tickle your pickle and give it a read ♡ will also update my intro, masterlist and upcoming fic posts so stay tuned for those!! + will attempt to answer my asks. love ya guys 𓍢ִ໋

incoming ellie thigh pics... ೄྀ

[theboarsbride]

WIP Re-Intro - GHOSTS PLAGUE THESE HALLS

Title: Ghosts Plague These Halls

Comp: CRIMSON PEAK x Cocteau's LA BELLE ET LA BÊTE

Whitechapel, London 1894.

Sophie Wickes and her family struggle to survive in the underbelly that is London's East End. Melancholia eats away at her ailing father, her work as a flower seller brings no income, and her efforts to sell her hair in an act of desperation prove to be fruitless. After a series of strange encounters in London's streets, and the gift of a mysterious white rose from her pickpocket nephew, she is called upon by the reclusive Lord Edgar Cushing to tend to the gardens of his countryside estate of Rosenthorne Hall. Faced with destitution in a workhouse and the threat of her young nephew being sent to find industrial work, Sophie agrees to play the facade of gardener.

However, the estate, its gardens, and their master is nothing like what Sophie expected.

The house? Rotting, dilapidated, hideous.

The staff? Unfeeling, cold, strange.

The gardens? A graveyard of floral corpses guarded by an army of statues.

The master? A voice from the shadows that refuses to show himself.

With her heart tested by the thorns of anger and fear, Sophie tries to make herself of use in Rosenthorne Hall; something resembling friendship begins to blossom between her and her mysterious employer; she finally has a chance to rescue her family from the East End's grime, and perhaps allow old scars to, at last, heal. But with a lord who speaks kind words from the house's darkened corners whilst pleading to remain unseen, an unfriendly coachman, and the sudden emergence of eerie butterflies, loneliness becomes maddening.

The delirium only threatens to worsen once she starts to receive nightly visitations from a crooked-jawed ghost and moths that whisper of a bloody past, and a plea to rid Rosenthorne Hall of the misery, grief, and love that continue to plague its halls.

-----

Rough updated synopsis (i'm terrible at writing them hhhhsbhbshsbhbs sorry if it be sloppy-) and WIP intro for GHOSTS PLAGUE THESE HALLS! My Victorian gothic horror-romance ghost story baby... with yet another pathetic wet-cat-of-a-man love interest.🥰

[themadzarka]

Hey! This is my intro post. Finally, a good one. Well, it's still work-in-progress, but I've been working on this for over a week, so I'll posting it now. A few things are missing like descriptions, artwork and my boundaries for commissions, I'll add them later and make a post about any update. (updated 06/03/2025)

--

Summary

- Self-Introduction

- Commission Info

- List of UTDR Stories

--

⬇️ MORE HERE ⬇️

Self-Introduction

Heya, I'm Zarka. I'm a self-taught artist and I draw and imagine stories as a hobby. I have made plenty of fanfics and comics before, but they never came to be finished or even revealed to the public. I'm happy to know that I've made a lot of progress with my Undertale and Deltarune stories and I hope that one day, I will have told all of the tales that I imagined in my dreams and daydreams, original and fanmade.

I also have an Aphmau blog.

Commission Info:

- Consider donating to my Paypal. I'm a student and I don't have a good source of income so this is greatly appreciated.

- Note: I do not want to support Paypal, I am looking for a better alternative, so if you have a suggestion, please let me know.

- Limited bustshot commissions for only 3$.

List of UTDR Stories

- Deltarune Self-Insert Mod

- World: Deltarune

- Tone: Semi-Serious

- Status: Ongoing (undefined release schedule)

- Medium: Comic

- Material:

- DRSIM Main Story

- Party Bad Omen (prequel mini-comic, on hiatus)

- Tags: #drsim (story), #deltarune self insert mod (general)

- Tales of The Font Brothers

- World: Undertale

- Tone: Semi-Serious

- Status: Undefined

- Medium: Artwork, comics

- Tags: #red riding hood au (general), #tales of the font brothers (comics)

- Charicature

- World: Undertale

- Tone: Semi-Serious

- Status: Undefined

- Medium: Varied

- Tags: #chamra girl for general, #chamra gallery for written fics and comics, #charicature for serious comics

- Extra:

- Don't try and find out (mini-comic, undefined release schedule)

- Human Guessing Game

- World: ???

- Tone: Semi-Serious

- Status: On hiatus

- Medium: Ask series

- Tag: #human-guessing-game

[marclef]

okay so uhhh. definitely wasn't expecting this any time soon. or ever. but unless my tumblr has been lying to me for 3 days straight then i guess it happened.

uhhhhh. thanks for 700 followers bros 👁👁💧

like. i didn't even see my tumblr get to 400. unless i've been hallucinating that it's been at 300 for the last month. am i going insane? maybe. but uhhh. that's a lot of people looking at me. kinda freaking me out a little. but thanks regardless i guys, it does mean a lot to me ✨❤❤❤✨

anyways. i die. nervous. some various rambling under the cut and in the tags but here's an artistic rendition of how i feel right now. enjoy.

so yeah. i don't know how the hell my follower count has doubled in like, two months. maybe it's the Fake Peppino Hugs? a lot of people have been wanting hugs after all. it uhhhh kinda makes me feel weird knowing there's this many of you. but i'll try to manage.

speaking of hugs, yes i've seen the new asks and requests in my inbox i promise!! i will get to them when i can, but for now i'm gonna try to focus on getting a couple other big important things done. mainly, a large Fake Peppino headcanon-related post i've been planning, and getting a few more characters up on Artfight before July.

and also.... i might be getting commissions up soon too?? i don't know how soon, but it'd be a way for me to get income right now since i don't have a job. or, if you don't wanna commission me but still wanna show support, i have a link to me Ko-Fi on my intro post as well! really any support is welcome, but i'm trying to figure out how to do commissions and pricing and stuff since it'll be the first time i *officially* do them. i hope you'll think about it though!!

but yeah, i've got a good few things i've gotta get done with, i'm trying to take things a liiiiittle slow right now though so i don't burn myself out fully. i will try to get stuff done soon though! expect that big Fakey post in maybe a week or so, and i'll update you all on other things that happen as well!

thanks for reading if you have, love ya's ❤❤💗💗💗❤❤

[rabidaly]

Ok one more update from a shark in the water? Please???

Here’s the first 1k(roughly)! Keep in mind I haven’t edited and I had like. A three-month long writers block for this fic so I’m not super attached/happy with this intro— it may change when I go back next weekend!

Hopefully it’s enough to wet your appetite tho ;)

—

Stiles had friends.

Lydia was his friend. Erica. Danny and Kira danced the line between acquaintance and actual friendship, but gun to his head, Stiles would count them as the latter. And Scott. God knows they'd been inseperable for over a decade.

It's just—

Stiles didn’t text his friends the way he texted Derek.

Or as often.

It wasn’t anything serious. Just lots of little, trivial things: pictures here and there, Stiles blinking doe eyes at the camera, biting his lip. He texted Derek about his annoying professor, the chronological order of the Marvel movies, his attempts at latte foam art. Stiles rambled and vented and altogether talked too much, but—

Derek always answered.

Even if it was a simple, one-word reply. Even if sometimes it took a couple hours. Stiles wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop even if he didn’t; every little thing that popped into his head came with the companion thought of, oh! I wonder what Derek would think about this!

ive never seen you play a video game, he texted on Thursday evening.

I don’t. What are you playing?

COD

with scott

R u home?

At the gym.

Stiles had figured as much, but he still caught himself sighing. They were in the Hale-McCall living room, playing on Scott’s family Xbox, both sore and tired from their shifts at work. From his spot on the couch, Stiles could hear Peter humming in the kitchen, most likely prepping for dinner. Melissa was still at work.

And Derek was at the gym. Snooze.

how much can u lift? Stiles texted, before his character on screen ran into a wall and he had to put his phone down. Scott side-eyed him, hard.

Stiles caught the tail-end of Scott taking incoming fire before his phone buzzed again. He looked back down.

I can lift double your weight, easy, Derek had typed, cutting to the heart of the matter.

Stiles pinkened.

for how long?

For as long as it takes. Derek replied. it’s your endurance we need to work on, if anything.

Stiles could taste the sharp edge of Derek’s condescension on his tongue. Something inside him went molten-hot, liquified, like the liquid wax of a burning candle.

maybe you should take me to the gym with you, he typed, squirming at just the thought of it. Derek all sweaty, the graceful arch of spine, muscles flexing as he lifts himself. we could be workout buddies.

Would you wear leggings?

Stiles readjusted on the couch, his leg coming up against his chest.

in public? no.

but I could sit on you.

on your back. while you do push ups

A bit too daring. Stiles bit his lip when Derek didn’t respond. He focused back on the game, hoping to distract himself.

It didn’t help much.

Scott huffed, throwing down his remote when they both died.

“What is with you, man?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles said, peeking at his phone again. No new messages.

“I mean, you’re not even watching where you’re going. You just got us both killed!”

”I’m just—“ Stiles felt unreasonably grumpy. “Bored. Can’t we play something else?”

“Like what?”

Like Mario Kart, per Stiles’ suggestion. The best part about Mario Kart was that Scott was—

“Awful, man. Just terrible,” Stiles laughed as Scott swerved off the road, twisting his remote uselessly, as if that were going to do anything while he wasn’t holding down the gas. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing to watch. You should just stop. You’re bringing shame to your family name.”

“I used to beat you at every game!”

“Yeah, in like seventh grade.” Stiles shook his head. “How’s it feel, Scott? To have peaked in middle school?”

“I haven’t peaked, I’m just—“ Scott threw down the controller as the track completed, screen flashing the stats. Scott in tenth place, Stiles in first. Just like the last time. And the time before that. “Out of practice. God, screw this. I want to play Skyrim.”

“Skyrim is god-awful on the Switch.”

“Well, then, I’ll bring the PS4 down here.”

“But it’s single player,” Stiles scrunched up his nose. “I’m not going to just sit here like your girlfriend and pretend watching you play video games is interesting.”

Scott looked offended. “Allison isn’t pretending. She said she loves watching me play.”

Right.

“Sure she does.” Stiles rolled his eyes. "We can just put on a horror movie or something, play fuck, marry, kill." A weird little tradition of theirs, any time they break out the b-rate horror films.

"Which one do you wanna watch?"

Stiles shrugged, "You pick."

He checked his phone again. Sighed for the millionth time.

Scott noticed.

“Who are you texting?”

Fuck.

”No one important,” Stiles said quickly, and put his phone face down on the side table.

Scott stared at it. “Is that a new phone?”

”What? No.”

”It’s pink," Scott pointed out. "Your phone's not pink.”

Stiles really needed to get a case for the thing. “Okay,” he conceded. “It’s a new phone. I splurged.”

The reaction was immediate.

”Stiles! We’re supposed to be saving up for an apartment!” Scott shook his head. “You’ve got to stop spending money, dude.”

Scott was definitely right about that. Stiles might not have bought the phone, but he'd hardly saved a dime since he’d started his job. He’d been too busy buying— well. You know.

As if summoned by the thought of his underwear alone, Stiles' phone (finally, finally) buzzed. Stiles had moved before his brain had fully processed the sound, snatching his phone up from the table on reflex.

Stay put. I’ll be there in 10.

Stiles’ cheeks darkened to a fire-engine red. Uh-oh.

[himblebo]

Hi Mrs. Beeton - you seem to be an expert re: history of domestic service. Do you by chance have any book recs? I'm predictably interested in early 20th c. high-income households and their senior staff (y'know - #JustRebeccaThings) but pretty much any topic, or overview, would be more than welcome

Hi there! Definitely not an expert by any means (it’s the field I’m currently working in but is not what my degree is in at all), but I do have decent research skills and lots of experience in this one specific topic!

I always recommend that for a primary source, you consult Mrs. Beeton herself—my ask button is a reference to Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, first compiled/edited by Mrs. Isabella Beeton in 1861 and continually updated/re-published as recently as 2010. By the early 20th century it was a household standard, and I have zero doubt that Mrs. Danvers would have referenced it regularly(or even have committed several chapters to memory).

Here’s some information ABOUT the book/its legacy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mrs._Beeton%27s_Book_of_Household_Management

And here is a link to one archive edition of it (there are many available for free online, and as there are near infinite editions you can find printed copies very affordably secondhand): https://archive.org/details/b20392758

One of the great things for research about the late 19th/early 20th centuries is the rapid evolution of the printing and publishing industries in that time, as well as the VAST amount of material written for and by women specifically about housekeeping, entertaining, homemaking, etc.

There are just countless extant examples of women’s magazines, lady’s journals, etiquette books, home guides, etc etc out there! Brittanica gives a good overview of some of the more successful ones: https://www.britannica.com/topic/publishing/Womens-magazines

In terms of contemporary resources, I think this might be right along the lines of what you’re looking for:

I also recommend you check out the British reality/history series The Edwardian Country House! It’s not currently streaming anywhere that I know of (available for digital purchase on Amazon and AppleTV it looks like), but the majority of it is available on YouTube (in varying different uploads and playlists and resolutions lol). Here’s one video compiling a couple episodes, the sound quality gets better after the intro: https://youtu.be/ILfXMhFNE7c?si=vygvafS_ESpwfz4d

And then here are some other books I’ve used in my work, though your mileage may vary for your own purposes (the time periods vary and these are US centered).

[atvace]

Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Call of Duty men x Female!Reader

(y/n) got demoted from the FBI inspector general down to sergeant because of her valiant move in a drug smuggling mission. she has been assigned to task force 141.

"what a bunch of fuckers." she thought.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

available to read in AO3 and Wattpad!

• not owning any character, they belong to their creators whatsoever

• slow building, eventual porn, character development. slow update because I need to play the campaign first

• not so accurate, might ooc a lil

• Los Vaqueros, Mexican Cartel, Kortac included

● This was originally written in my Wattpad (@Atvace) but I decided to post it here too for more recognition.

●warning: Harsh words, incoming shameless smut (non-con will have a warning in the chapter intro), drug addiction, smoking, drinking (me, im sorry), sh, sa, ptsd, mention of rape, angst (from the comics), F/M/M type a smut, etc. chapter that contains smut will have the TW.

copy my work, I hope your cat makes biscuit to your face with their murder mittens and leaves claw marks all over yo shit face, I hope you did your homework but forgot to publish it so you got an F, I hope your mom forgot your lunch and you starved for the rest of the day, I hope a roach fly to your face when you're taking a huge shit, I hope when you take that huge shit it's so huge you got hemorrhoid for the next 5 months

Spotify:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

[rjthirsty]

Projects and Links

Just a small reminder of things I'm working on that you might not see referred to on regular postings, but you might want to check out.

Doki Doki Digest is a review site for romance and horror games. We've just launched and are working on updating all the old reviews before the site change. We have a tumblr but you should check out the website: dokidokidigest.com Podcast and horror game reviews coming soon!

My fanfics masterlists can be found on my pinned intro under the cut. Mostly IkePri, but something like 60 fics all neatly organized by character. Below the several masterlists are fanfics that don't fit into my IkePri Masterlist. I also have a long fic wip Deceit and Decay. IkePri ABCs WIP. And my full IkePri gender changed AU can be found on ao3, or scheduled release here.

I have a tumblr to archive other things that don't fit into writing fanfics, like commissioned art, or things outside of Ikemen Series. But also IkeSeries stuff. It doesn't spam like I do on this account. It's just a place to store things I love.

I also take commissions and have subscriptions on my ko-fi. Real talk: I'm a disabled, chronically ill, trans person, living on a single retired income with my wife, and my teen kiddo, so every little dollar counts.

And lastly! I know, I said short and this is anything but. Check out @scumberly (also works on Doki Doki Digest) who is our active streamer at the moment. She needs more followers to start making money off Twitch, so giving her a follow would mean a lot to both of us. I'm apparently a regular guest on Sundays Sindays now.

[p5x-theories]

Oracle in P5X

(last updated 10/17/24!)

Futaba Sakura is primarily present as a Phantom Idol, or cognitive teammate. She has not yet made any appearance in the main story, outside of her lines during the Sae Palace escape intro cutscene.

In the P5 Collab's Pyramid chapter, Oracle is first seen calling for help, fleeing from a shadow. At first, she mostly hides from Wonder's team, but after seeing they're also Persona users, she helps them out as they fight the shadow that was chasing her. While still uncertain about the group, she latches onto Wind (both as a fellow navigator and because she looks like a responsible bishoujo). Once they find Queen and Fox outside the entrance to the pyramid, she opens up a bit, though she still tends to stick closer to Wind.

They later reunite with Skull and Panther, but Oracle begins to complain their group is too big now. However, she later musters the courage to admit this location is based on her own Palace, despite Queen, Fox, Panther, and Skull trying to avoid telling the other group about that. She credits the Phantom Thieves for helping her, and says she's doing much better now. She and Wind also further bond over having repressed themselves (in Oracle's case, blaming herself for Wakaba's murder), and how their friends helped snap them out of this mindset.

Oracle is also the one to bring up the three poisons, from Buddhism, in relation to the animals in murals they see throughout the pyramid.

Later, facing Moha, she's angry to have to face the sphinx again, though she doesn't struggle to do so. Oracle notably manages to hack in a ballista to use against Moha, much like in the original sphinx fight. Alongside the others, Oracle is abducted up to the space station shortly after the sphinx's defeat.

Futaba can also be found in Leblanc in the real world, which Wonder is for some reason capable of crossing worlds to visit. She won’t appear until Wonder has met her in the Pyramid Chapter, but while she's nervous to meet him, she mentions she's been wanting to "forever" (presumably since first hearing her friends talk about him).

Oracle's Persona Necronomicon functions as a navigator. As seen in her previous appearances, Oracle sits within Necronomicon while navigating.

Necronomicon is an Elucidation Persona, the designation used for navigators, and her trait gives her "Analysis Progress" whenever a Persona skill is used by a teammate, gaining additional Analysis Progress whenever a weakness is hit. When "Hacking Complete" occurs, it buffs all teammates' damage for two rounds.

Her first support skill reduces the defense of all enemies for two rounds based on Oracle's own attack stat (defense is additionally reduced for incoming attacks that the enemy is weak to) and grants the team Hacking Complete if Analysis Progress is at 100% when the skill is used. Her second support skill increases the damage taken by one enemy for two rounds based on Oracle's attack stat, and while this lasts, the amount of Analysis Progress gained is increased; this skill also grants the team Hacking Complete if Analysis Progress is at 100% when it's used. Her third support skill requires Hacking Complete to be active to use, and lasts one round, buffing the attack of one teammate based on Oracle's attack stat, as well as inflicting all enemies with "Disruption Virus", which makes them one stage more vulnerable to that teammate's type (null/absorb/reflect becomes resist, resist becomes normal, and normal becomes weak); If their vulnerability becomes weak, they take 25% more damage from that weakness.

Her passive skills buff all teammates' stats based on Oracle's stats, allow her to start every battle at 100% Analysis Progress, and make it so that Hacking Complete also grants all teammates a shield based on Oracle's attack stat for three rounds.

While she doesn’t strictly have a melee or ranged weapon as a navigator, P5X does have tools that the navigators use for their abilities, also obtained through the weapon gacha, and hers are laptops.

Her recommended card sets are 1) 3 of Coins (Works) + King of Coins (Determination), 2) 4 of Coins (Power) + Page of Coins (Growth).

The game has no particular recommended teams for her at the moment.

[sakuramidnight15]

🪭 ❚█══“The Moonlight Buffet”══█❚ 🪭

“The grand feast serving of a thousand lights…”

(Note: A TWST Fanmade Event)

Intro:

“Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, far and wide and across the outlands of magic…!! It’s now time for the huge upcoming event that is transpiring within the Riftian Lands. The one and only festival to celebrate blessings and good fortune that can be visited in the Island of Enchantment…”

“The Grand Moonlight Festival!”

--------------------------------------------------

A sudden surprise has entered for this coming month of the incoming full moon for the evening, rather a welcoming surprise for the local academy of NRC as well.

Lynette’s family had then declared to celebrate the moonlight festival by creating a grand feast to not only spread fortune and blessing to people across the continents outside of the riftlands…

…but also had planned to serve a grand, ever large buffet feast that’ll be the biggest feast they've ever had!

But instead of her usual home which was often the main venue for huge festivities back in the past decades, the new and main grand venue was now presented here at NRC, the main cafeteria with the students invited to their main guests (with some who volunteered to assist with the preparations), to which that be including the students from the other schools who come over to visit to try the grand delights of their foods!

But aside from the feast serving and enjoying the fun for the evening, there is a lot of entertainment for the audience for tonight’s grand festivity.

The centrepiece of this grand event is the main dance competition, to which the local riftians and including some volunteering students who will determine today’s winning competition for the best dance and entertainment to the crowd this year, as a festive showdown!

It appears that Yuu was now participating in the entertainment competition alongside Grim, to which proposed by none other than Lynette who asked them to be her partner’s for tonight’s competition the day before the announcement from the headmaster.

What an unexpected surprise for you...!

May this lovely evening be the busiest yet liveliest night of the day as Yuu step into the dance battle of a celebrating grand feast!

--------------------------------------------------

Rules of the Event

• Everyone is free to participate in this event! Yuusonas, YUUs, OCs, any oc from any school and fanschools (coming as a guest to the event)!

• Content Reminder: Please keep it PG-13.

• How to Participate: Feel free to make: Fanfics, Art, OC Sprites, anything you like! Be creative with this lively event!

•Be sure to tag yours posts with: #🏮moonlight buffet, and don’t forget to credit/@ me in your posts as well!

• This event has no deadline which gives you plenty of time for your work! No need to rush, but there are chances there will be changes and updates (due to the fact of how busy I’m gonna be soon)

--------------------------------------------------

Outfits of the Event

For this grand feasting, a dress code is a dress code. Any traditional clothing (in any Country of Asia) is accepted! But if your oc is participating in the dance competition, a traditional dance attire (in any Country of Asia) is also accepted as well!

One Example (From China)

--------------------------------------------------

Entries

Lynette | Kiara | Amelia

Ace | Epel | Sliver | Jamil

--------------------------------------------------

Character Cards

N/A

--------------------------------------------------

Main Story

TBA

--------------------------------------------------

Card Background

(founded on Pinterest, images not mine but edited)

--------------------------------------------------

“𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷… 𝓭𝓸 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽!”

_________________________________________

[inochorb]

[OLD] Hello!! Intro post incoming!!

My name is bug!

I think life is really cool. So one day I thought to myself, wouldn't a story about being able to see manifestations of life be pretty awesome? Thus, inochorbs were born!

The inochorb universe is a world with no wars, no country conflicts and no murder of people. In short, "world peace". However, people are still plagued with illnesses and mental health issues that cause people to die all the time.

The reason for this so-called "world peace" is the existence of inochorbs. Small, round, glowing creatures with bulging eyes. They contain the life force of all humankind, and their existence means people cannot kill other people, due to the inochorb's protection.

My protagonists are Domino and Sera, who found themselves lost in the same area of Platinum Heights, which is rumoured to be the place where the inochorb guardian lives! The inochorb guardian can see all the inochorbs and is tasked with relaying lost ones to the heavens. They did not expect him to be a young, scraggly boy who's constantly on the brink of death.

Together, they explore the wilderness of Platinum Heights and hopefully Not Die!!

Stay tuned for updates and silly stuff yayyy :D

[bekkathyst]

I have some pictures to edit to make some more journal and print designs, and then I’ll be working on getting the Patreon ready for launch. The last thing I really need to do for that is make my ~intro video~ and I’ve already filmed 2 versions of it that I ended up deleting because it’s felt too awkward but you know, 3rd try should do the trick.

Oh and I’m putting together a giveaway with both crystals and a piece of jewelry to get the word out about the email newsletter. I’m reviving the one I had for years that I abandoned, so if you’ve ever signed up on our website for “email marketing” you likely will already be signed up. And of course it’s easy to unsubscribe if you changed your mind and don’t want it 😊

Other than that, I’m pretty much just trying to hang in here. My health hasn’t been doing too great and I’m overwhelmed with the stress of reapplying for all the immigration paperwork for my husband’s residency permit (that luckily isn’t due until July) because I’m constantly worried about meeting their ridiculous income requirement, but luckily we can show the numbers from last year instead of this year so far lol 🥲 I’m just always worried they’ll give us a hard time because you know they just do that sometimes. Also he has to pass his next level of the German language knowledge test which is always scary but he’s doing so well I know he’ll be fine in that regard. 💜

And I’m definitely not trying to complain, just wanting to be honest about how things are going atm. I’m still convinced things can get better in the next year and I’ll be working hard to make it come together. I know I stopped sharing anything at all personal for several years, but I realized me being the human being that I am is a vital part of my whole presence here, so that was my personal update for now!

😊💜