#I have also finally made a list of all of the current projects I have going on

[blametheeditor]

To See And To Hear | Chapter 2

Previous | Next

NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.

Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.

It's the Jerber!

____________________________________

Scott stares up at the familiar sign of Fazbear’s Pizzeria, fear and uncertainty washing over him. A feeling he hasn’t felt in honest to God years. 

Why would he? Ever since he died, the only he thing he’s had to worry about is Vincent accidentally leaving him behind at one of the restaurants and force the ghost to figure out where he went. Even then it’s nothing more than a chore considering there are only four other places he could be, it’d just be a matter of traveling to each location to check for a lurking shadow, and then possibly recheck them again if the purple man backtracked after realizing his mistake. 

But this will be the first time he’s possibly meeting another ghost. And not just any one, but someone who died at a Fazbear location. Meaning they’re damned to haunt the restaurants for eternity with how much luck Scott’s had when it comes to moving on. 

...who could it be? One of the original children? A night guard in which Scott would be the last person they’d want to see? Will they be hostile and turn out to be a threat, or will they just be confused and grateful to have someone who knows what they’re experiencing? 

Honestly, it breaks his heart at the thought of how long they might’ve been without a friendly face. Prays it hasn’t made them become resentful of those still living. He learned early on the animatronics can see and hear him, but they’re not human. And, no offense to the Toys, but they aren’t exactly the most welcoming compared to the Originals, though God forbid someone gets trapped with the Funtimes. 

“You alright, Scotty?” 

“Yeah,” Scott falls over his shoulder. Grateful to have Vincent by his side, even if his best friend couldn’t come inside the restaurant. He’ll come running if there’s trouble. “I’ll be right back, Vince.” 

He then takes a deep breath. Despite it only being an imitation, it’s a familiar action that’s helped ground him time and time again. With that he walks through the closed doors without issue. 

One glance at the stage confirms the Toys are locked in place, powered down until the clock strikes midnight. Right now it’s 11:30pm, giving him enough time to confirm if a ghost truly does haunt the restaurant, give a promise to come back another time if there is, and leave before they wake up. Not that he doesn’t like the Toys, they can just be a bit...much. 

Hopefully they haven’t convinced the ghost to start murdering people for the hell of it. 

Scott slowly makes his way through the familiar restaurant. The first place he ever worked. Where he met Vincent. Where- 

Focus. Lives could be at stake.

Nothing stands out to him as he checks off the different rooms. No missing items or burst lightbulbs. Hell, there doesn’t seem to be a distinct chill in the air when he passes through the door to parts and service, the room that always makes him shiver completely vacant. 

At least that can prove Eggs really can’t sense ghosts. 

He turns to leave before jolting when he hears a familiar laugh echo down the hallway. Confused until he remembers that Mike has been alternating between this location and Freddy Fazbear’s due to absolutely no new applications coming in for the night shift. Not that Scott can blame anyone, but that meant the young man had to do a bit more traveling depending on the week. 

The ghost makes his way toward the office, wanting to see how Mike’s handling the Toys so far. Vincent had only laughed when he learned the Originals had been intimidated by him, but Scott’s hoping that’s not what happened here. Their most valuable night guard would’ve kept his promise not to challenge over 6 foot tall animatronics who can snap his neck without any effort, right? 

“Hold the fuck on. Your ass can’t eat a goddamn ghost pepper?” 

...who is Mike talking to? 

Scott runs when it clicks, skidding to a halt at the office’s opening, freezing at the sight that greets him. 

Mike’s feet are kicked up onto the desk as he leans back in the rolling chair, somehow able to balance on only two legs without the wheels spinning to make him crash to the floor. And to his left stands a kid who doesn’t look older than 16. One with brown curls, wide grey eyes, and is translucent enough Scott can make out the pattern on the wall behind him. 

So there is a ghost. One Mike apparently found and didn’t tell anyone. 

“Michael!” 

Scott watches as the young man barely jumps from his name being yelled, but it’s enough to disrupt the careful balance needed to keep his chair from falling, meaning the guard disappears from sight as he’s thrown backwards. There is no sympathy despite it sounding like he most likely cracked his head open. 

“God-fucking-damn it.” 

“M-M-Mike!” the kid exclaims, running over to where Mike lies as he stares down in horror, hands hovering but unable to offer any help. “Are y-you okay!” 

“Fucking fine.” A hand grabs the desk as Mike laboriously pulls himself up, blue eyes locking onto the silently fuming ghost glaring daggers. “Well shit, Phone Guy. What the hell did I do?” 

“Why the hell did you not tell us there was a God damn ghost!” 

He doesn’t notice the light above him is flickering, nor the fact that he can see Mike’s breath every time he exhales. Because Scott has trained himself not to get too upset, all too aware of the damage he could cause when he’s worked up. There were times at the very beginning when not even Vincent was able to calm him down before the purple man got thrown into a wall. 

But this is different. He’s told Mike how dangerous interacting with the paranormal can be, including Scott. He’s hurt his best friend before, so why would the young man be so flippant with his own life with a stranger who clearly never worked for Afton. 

What if had gotten killed! He could’ve ended up just like-! 

“Phone Guy.” 

Scott blinks. Flinches when he realizes Mike is standing directly in front of him. Sucks in a gasp at the realization there’s hands resting on his shoulders. As if he’s corporeal. As if he’s alive. 

That’s when he notices Mike’s uncontrollable shivers, even breathing out his nose leaves a small cloud visible for a few moments. “You’re scaring the Jerber, asshole.” 

All of his anger vanishes within seconds. Horrified he might’ve just traumatized the kid. Made him think other ghosts were like that, ready to snap at any second. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“I fucked up,” Mike smirks as he removes his hands, Scott clenching his jaw to keep from asking how the impossible had been done. “I’m sorry for being an asshole and not telling you Jerber was bitching with me on my shifts over here.” 

“I’m sorry for almost cracking your head open,” the ghost murmurs. 

Mike then turns to gesture toward the poor kid trembling behind the desk. Who stares at Scott with a mix of concern and terror. “Jerber, this is Phone Guy. Phone Guy, Jerber.” 

“Scott,” he clarifies. Almost holds a hand out to shake before deciding against it. “I-I’m sorry for loosing my temper. I just, I was worried Mike wasn’t being...careful.” 

‘Jerber’ watches him for a few moments before taking a step forward. He then squeaks when he goes through the desk, jumping back before slowly walking around it in order to fully join the conversation. Though he makes a point to stay a safe distance away, using Mike as a barrier between them. “So, y-y-you're a ghost t-too?” 

At least he didn’t fuck up completely. “I am. Have been for about twenty years, though I apparently don’t act like it with the stunt I just pulled.” 

He’s looked up and down before a glance is shot toward Mike. When Scott’s nodded toward, a hand is then suddenly offered. “I’m J-J-J-Jeremy.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Scott says, earnestly, shaking the hand in greeting. He almost jumps in surprise when they actually make contact. Instead of passing through the other they connect as if they were living. 

It’s nothing like how Mike’s touch was, with warm flesh that pulsed with a heartbeat, but it’s much more comforting. The tangible confirmation he’s not the only one anymore, no longer alone. If Jeremy decides Scott is allowed to continue talking to him. 

That’s when Jeremy flings himself at Scott, the ghost extremely unprepared considering he’s not used to things or people being able to interact with him. That doesn’t mean he didn’t instinctively catch the kid to pull into a stunned hug as he’s clung to, it just meant he nearly fell backwards to send them both to the floor. A little confused how quickly he had been forgiven. 

And then it all comes together as the younger ghost sobs into his shoulder. 

Scott hugs Jeremy as tightly as possible, gently rubbing the kid’s back, happy to offer what little support he can. Because who knows how long he’s been dead for. Left to wonder around the restaurant where children can run right through you without even noticing. Maybe needed multiple weeks just to gain the courage to leave whatever room had become a temporary grave. Maybe a permanent one depending on if a body was ever found and taken to be buried. 

At least Scott had Vincent. To be honest, he got incredibly lucky considering his best friend has been able to be there for him all these years. Able to see and hear him. Can even respond to questions in front of others with sign language when backs are turned. If the purple man wasn’t able to, if he never found the ghost and promised to continue staying by each other’s side, Scott might not’ve calmed down before severely injuring Mike. He might’ve even joined the animatronics in killing every night guard just to send Afton a message someone’s biding their time. 

He might’ve even tried to kill Vincent and succeeded. 

At least it hasn’t been long enough that Jeremy’s thought about going down that path. Maybe the Toys are owed a thank you for that. 

“S-S-Sorry,” Jeremy sniffles as he pulls away, hands wiping at his tears before freezing when there’s only a phantom feeling of wetness where they should be. “I’m still not u-u-used to this.” 

And that’s something that won’t change no matter how much time passes. “It’s a lot. How long have you been a ghost for?” 

“A y-y-year.” 

Now Scott feels awful avoiding this location as much as he can. Vincent’s one thing, but the one who’s already dead shouldn’t have let himself be controlled by bad memories. Not when he can’t get killed again. 

“I’m sorry we missed you,” he begins, eyebrows raising when Jeremy immediately waves his hands. 

“N-No, it’s okay! The Toys have k-k-kept me company! And I sleep d-during th-the day before playing the...” The kid’s eyes widen before he gasps. “They’re y-y-your recordings!” 

Oh God. 

“Holy shit,” reminds Scott that Mike is still here. And wearing a shit-eating grin. “You have more of those goddamn things, Phone Guy?” 

He honestly forgot about the ones for this location. He can’t be at two places at once, so when it came to choosing which play button he’d much rather press, it ended up being for the ones at Freddy Fazbear’s. Especially because it was the least he could do to try and ensure no one else ended up with the same fate. Not that it really seemed to do much, and he couldn’t exactly make better one’s considering that would make Afton extremely suspicious and poke around in things Scott would never want him to. And over the years he forgot there were others. Many, many others. 

“You’ve been playing them?” Scott asks. Grateful someone has been helping those hired for this location for the past year. Worried how Jeremy knows they exist. 

“The Toys told me a-a-about them! Said th-they were helpful for n-n-new g-guards, so I’ve been p-playing them. I accidentally s-slept in on Mike’s first shift, but he d-d-didn't need it, so I’ve been helping in o-other ways.” 

So Jeremy wasn’t as unlucky guard and instead met his untimely end another way. By the way he talks about the Toys, it doesn’t seem like it was a death by animatronic at all. Which is concerning, but not as much as apparently being able to help Mike during his shift. 

It doesn’t help that Mike is nodding his head. “We’ve been fucking shit up.” 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

Scott whirls around at the familiar growl, swallowing down fear clawing at his throat at the sight of Marionette slowly walking down the hallway toward them. It’s irrational to be afraid of the puppet, and yet the ghost’s heart would’ve started beating widely if he still had one as he’s given a glare. 

At least he’s not alone, Jeremy squeaking at the towering animatronic’s presence. “Long time no see, Mari.” 

“Cut the bullshit, Cawthon. Where the hell is he?” 

“Outside,” Scott says honestly. “He won’t hesitate to come inside if you go after Mike, however.” 

“Seriously?” Bon demands as he peers into the hallway. An angry finger is pointed toward said night guard who returns it with a middle finger. “How the fuck did this asshole get your blessing?” 

“At this point they’re adopting everything they come across,” Marionette growls. “I’ll go tell the other’s Scott’s teaching Jeremy he should trust strangers if they’re offering candy.” 

“I am doing no such thing!” Scott calls after the retreating figures. 

“And I didn’t offer Jerber shit!” Mike joins in. 

“Michael, if you’re not sitting at the desk and winding the music box in three seconds, God so help you.” 

Mike obediently does as he was instructed, though they both know it’s not out of fear for what Scott would do. He wishes it was at the very least it was to ensure the young man isn’t killed tonight, but they also know that’s not the reason either. 

Scott sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Well aware it’s his own fault for not checking the time despite knowing the Toys would be waking up soon. 

“A-A-Are you leaving?” Jeremy quietly asks. 

Scott looks at the kid looking a bit unsure if this is just a first meeting, or an only meeting. Because Mike would’ve confirmed he’ll be switching between the restaurants weekly, meaning the ghost will be alone all over again. And when you’re dead, you have no influence on if schedules get changed or if someone new to hire for the position is found. 

Fellow ghosts have no obligation to come back when the animatronics have made it clear his presence isn’t wanted. 

“I’ll be back,” Scott promises. “At some point this week. And next week when Mike’s at the other restaurant, but I have a feeling he’ll be dragging you over there with him.” 

Jeremy hugs him again. “Thank y-y-you.” 

This is going to get complicated.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[littlbowbub]

Available to download on Patreon

Release Dates:

Choco Puds - 12.08 Mini Puds - 19.08 Bow Puds - 26.08 Public - 02.09

I'm very excited to finally be releasing this (later than planned.. but we had some bloopers to fix!) Whilst this is quite different to what I usually make, I hope those of you interested will like it just as much!

~~~🌼🌻🌹~~~

This is a ongoing project mod. This is not the final version of how I would like this mod to be and I am hoping to continue to grow this mod, adding more wreaths, possibility for more ingredients etc as time goes on. Everything is subject to change.

~~~🌼🌻🌹~~~

Important info:

Seasons EP is required.

This mod will override the in game flower crafting station.

Compatible with flower crafting station conversions providing the flower table object tuning has not been edited.

For additional addon wreaths, please make sure you have the required pack before downloading.

~~~🌼🌻🌹~~~

What is this mod?

You can now craft wreaths using the flower arranging table!

I have added the 4 wreaths that came with the Seasons EP.

Any Season Wreath (level 1)

Fall Twined Twigs Wreath (level 2) Fall Twigs wreath also uses 'Acorn' as an ingredient if you have my Olde Cookbook Kit.

Spring Sprigs Wreath (level 3)

Winter Holiday Wreath (level 3)

Each type has a variety of colour choices. I have made all original colour swatches as options to craft, so there are a lot of options!

All wreaths work like flower arrangements:

Uses the flower arranging skill to craft - each wreath has a different skill level requirement

Optional flowers as ingredients

Current base cost in 50

They will start as pristine and eventually decrease until withered

Can be sold & listed on plopsy

live-draggable/inventory compatible

given as gift - friendly or flower arrangement

I have also made a small adjustment to the flower crafting pie menu and have separated wedding bouquets into their own menu. So now there will be flower arrangements, wedding bouquets and wreaths.

Addon Wreaths:

Blueberry Wreath - Cottage Living EP required (level 2)

more wreaths to come in future updates

~~~🌼🌻🌹~~~

More information in the original post.

[kilibaggins]

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE. FREE PALESTINE. DO WHAT YOU CAN.

I apologize for not being active to speak up this week during the strike like I've tried to be in the past. I'm not as active on Tumblr as I am on Twitter so it slipped my mind to be posting here about things since I usually don't post here in general.

I decided I'd make a post sharing different ways that you can help the people of Gaza, including ways to do so without donating to the families in need directly. This list includes options that are possible without money along with things that you can give money to to help. Even if you can't give money, you CAN spread the word for all of these things for free and while helping. Your voice matters.

ARAB.ORG

The first way that you (yes. you!) can help is by following the link below to be able to do a daily click that is able to help the people of Palestine. There will also be a link to their information on how it works if you're interested in that. Not only can you click to help Palestine, you can also click to help other causes which helps in general as well.

CLICK TO HELP

HOW IT WORKS

HIND'S HALL BY MACKLEMORE

"If the west was pretending that you didn't exist, you'd want the word to stand up, and the Students finally did."

You may have heard of Macklemore's new song HIND'S HALL, written about the current atrocities happening to the people in Gaza and in support of the students protesting, but did you know that the money that comes from streaming the song is going to UNRWA? You can stream this song for free and all the proceeds will be going to UNRWA (which, by the way, you can donate to directly: HERE).

I've heard from many comments and posts that the streams only count on Spotify if 1.) It is not completely muted, and 2.) There's a song (or two) played in between. This way Spotify will count each stream as a stream towards the song and allow for Macklemore to donate the proceeds.

HIND'S HALL - MACKLEMORE [Spotify] (Also on Youtube, Amazon Music, Apple Music, and Others)

CREATORS FOR PALESTINE!

There's also the Creators for Palestine Fundraiser! A ton of different creators, including some of my favorites, are getting together to raise money for the PCRF (and more!).

"Creators for Palestine is raising money for Palestine Children's Relief Fund, a registered 501 non-governmental organization established in 1992."

"With the current state Gaza is in, we are looking to urgently raise $1M to address humanitarian needs and immediate relief, including providing essential medical treatment/supplies, food, clean water, and other necessities for families affected by the genocide."

While you may not be able to donate to them, amplifying their voices, amplifying posts about this fundraiser, etc. Can help spread the word enough that more people CAN donate.

CHADCHAD'S TWEET

JARVIS JOHNSON'S TWEET

FUNDRAISER LINK

WATCH VIDEOS

Speaking of creators, creators on TikTok have made it their goal to donate funds made by you watching their videos, listening to their sounds, etc. Search on TikTok to find these videos, these creators, these sounds, and interact as much as possible. You can do this by especially going through the Pass The Hat Hashtag and helping those who are speaking up about specific families in need.

#PASSTHEHAT on TikTok

Now, onto places, organizations, and people you can donate to.

PASS THE HAT

Speaking of Pass The Hat, I will link to a video by a creator on TikTok named Erin who has started this wonderful initiative. Basically, this initiative is being used to have TikTok and Instagram creators 'adopt a family' in Gaza so that they can speak up for that family and get as many donations as possible. While you may not be able to donate, going through the videos made by people that are a part of this initiative and watching them, interacting with them, and focusing on them, will allow their videos to be pushed to people who may be able to help more than you can. And that alone is life changing.

ERIN HATTAMER on TikTok

PROJECT PASS THE HAT VIDEO

OPERATION OLIVE BRANCH

While Erin is amazing for doing what she's done here, she has also made sure to amplify the voices of Operation Olive Branch and made sure to tell everyone that Operation Olive Branch, a Grassroots movement to organize & promote the safety and wellbeing of families in Palestine, was the operation to truly kickstart all of this. Operation Olive Branch has a TikTok account, which I will be linking, along with a cohesive google spreadsheet of families that are in need.

The spreadsheet has hundreds of families that are in need and includes links to their fundraisers, their goals, the names and ages of the family, and social media links. Each family is put into their own category such as Medical/Disabled, Mutual Aid, Gazan Heroes, etc. Along with a Master list of all of them. The main navigation page has many different recourses and links as well.

OPERATION OLIVE BRANCH on TikTok

FAQ VIDEO on TikTok

LINKTREE

THE SPREADSHEET

Here are some more specific sources and then I'll add different threads of GoFundMe's.

CARE FOR GAZA

Care for Gaza is, in their own words, a Non-Governmental, Non-Profit charity in aid of helping the needy families of Palestine. You can find all of the links I can find for them below including their GoFundMe, PayPal, and their Twitter account. Care For Gaza is a non-profit helping the people in Gaza survive day by day by supplying food, hygiene products, etc. to the people in Gaza with little to nothing. All over their Twitter they continue to post pictures of the products they have and videos of the people they are able to help continuously due to the donations they receive.

CARE FOR GAZA on Twitter

GOFUNDME [€849,343 of €1,000,000]

PAYPAL

ESIMS FOR GAZA

ESims For Gaza is another effort, which is being run by Mirna El Helbawi. She has been accepting eSims donations and distributing them to journalists and other people in need of them and there have been over 1 thousand eSims distributed. Even the smallest amount helps those in need and you can help people in Gaza continue to get in contact with their families.

MIRNA EL HELBAWI on Twitter

ESIMS FOR GAZA WEBSITE

NOMAD

HOLAFLY

SIMLY

AIRALO

Now, onto the GoFundMe's.

GOFUNDME'S

There are many Twitter Threads going through and listing so many different GoFundMe's for the people in need of escaping Rafah. Some of them may repeat some GoFundMe's but I still believe these threads will be helpful to allow you to find some families in desperate need. Here are a few threads (let it be known I do not know the people who I'm sharing threads from!):

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

There is also this GOOGLE DOCUMENT that has a list of different GoFundMe's and other donation sites.

Listen, I know this was a lot. But that's why I felt it important for it all to be in one place. There are hundreds of posts on Twitter, Tumblr, everywhere, that collects information for you like this. You just have to take the time to share it, to read it, to understand that you are not powerless in all of this. This post does not have everything, but I thought it could be a good start.

These people need our help. They need anything that we can give them and the least you can do is share around information and resources so those that can help know where to go. So that people know what is going on right now in the world.

Free Palestine.

[himbeereule]

Орлёнок Demo Release

Finally, the demo is here! It's not exactly January anymore, but better late than never, right?

You can play it right here!

I also made a post on the CoG forums, if you want to check it out: Link

Features include:

Meeting your family! And getting bullied.

Getting executed!

Rising from the dead!

Celebrating life by slaughtering some rebels!

(Being extremely miserable!)

Feedback:

This is, quite obviously, a work in progress. It is made available so that you, the reader, can give feedback that improves the game.

So, while you can - and should - obviously tell me whatever you want, a specific list of what I need most in terms of feedback can be found here:

Language. English is not my first language (actually, not even my second one), and I mostly read non-fiction academic works when I read in English, so my writing is certainly not at the level it should be. If you have any concrete issues, please tell me, and I'll try to learn how it can be improved.

Spelling. I don't expect much in the way of outright errors, but I do know that I mix up British and American English all the time. The intended style is American English, so please point out spellings that are wrong in that regard.

Inconsistencies. There are a lot of variations between scenes, and I'd like to make the story as immersive as possible; so, if a phrasing, a character's behaviour etc. feel like they don't fit into the choices you previously made, please tell me. In detail, if possible, otherwise I won't be able to amend it.

Sensory descriptions. AuDHD makes my brain process sensations, including visual impressions, very differently, which means I often end up forgetting those exist. Please tell me about scenes that lack description in that regard. (My first grade elementary school report card called my writing 'efficient and devoid of feelings', and I'd very much like to move past that.)

Technical problems. The code should be pretty solid, but with how complicated it is, it'd be weird if there weren't at least some problems. If you find them, please try to include as much detail as possible when telling me about it. (CS Quicktest and Randomtest are not usable due to the complexity of the code, lol.)

You liking the story. I remain thoroughly convinced that I am a worthless person who isn't able to, nor deserves to create anything, and currently my only motivation to continue this project is derived from pure stubbornness. So, if you, for some reason, actually like this demo, please tell me. It won't change my mind about how bad I think it is, but it will force me to continue in order to avoid being even more of a disappointment.

Additions. If I like your idea, I'll probably add it right away; if I'm unsure, I'll do a poll. You can get me to do almost anything if you say you're sad if I don't do it.

Formatting. Although I try to playtest as much as possible, it's not that easy with how many variations there are, and in VS Code it's sometimes hard to see how well or badly readable text passages actually are.

CWs/TWs (v0.0.1):

Graphic violence and gore

Attempted sexual assault (against the player, avoidable, f!MC only; also against an NPC if massacre route is chosen (is dealt with quickly))

Suicide attempt (by the player, avoidable; f!MC only)

Loss of loved ones

Massacre of civilians and/or PoWs (avoidable)

General misery

(please let me know if you think this needs additions)

As of yet unfinished content:

Autistic variations do not exist yet for the latter part of the demo

Only one of three locations for taking a walk available for now

Tooltips are incomplete

Asexual is not available yet, as it requires a lot of additional scene variation text

Special (psychopath) routes are missing from some scenes as they were added late in development

Choices that are locked and marked as (WIP) are unfinished

Interaction routes for Semyon/Selena, Mikhail/Marina and Leon/Leah. They are top priority for the first set of updates

It is recommended that you play this with a stable state of mind. If you choose the suffering paths because it's relatable and/or as a coping strategy, please make sure you have support available and avoid triggering yourself too much.

The whole point of this game (apart from the dress-up part) is that, no matter how bad things get, you shouldn't stop fighting. It's your enemies who deserve destruction, not you.

Please keep in mind that I am both literally insane and pretty reasonable, so: if there is anything you find grossly offensive, don't assume I meant anything bad by it. Just explain to me why you think it shouldn't exist, and if I am convinced, I will amend it.

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

so, how are you and ruben doing after everything?

warnings: 18+ | wc: 5152 | part: 8/8

a/n: literally didn't expect to write anything this year much less finish a fic?? if you read this entire thing tysm 💌

Some time had passed since that night at your place.

Even though it was an ordeal that could’ve upended everything for you, the effect it had was starkly the opposite. Sure, there were days where your chest ached and your mind got stormy. They were becoming less frequent though.

Your anger had managed to boil down to a simmer, but you still weren’t ready to have that conversation with your mom yet. After everything you’d been through, you just wanted to lean into all of the fullness that your current life had to offer.

Work had become something of a mad house again. Deals with brands like Carhartt and YSL Beauty, along with the continuing project of managing Erling’s personal branding kept the three of you on your toes.

That didn’t stop the conference room from turning into the occasional tribunal about your personal lives. You gave Cindy the rundown on your relationship with Ruben. How you’d known each other for ages, dated for a while, broke up for complicated reasons beyond your control and eventually found your way back to one another.

That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! She cooed with clasped hands.

Aki gagged dramatically.

Her and Ruben’s friendship had began to mend. They spoke not long after she found out the truth. She expressed the same things that you did - what he was forced to do wasn’t fair. Aki also didn’t blame him for making her collateral damage. There wasn’t a world where they could’ve continued being friends after the fallout and she knew there also wasn’t one where he would’ve made her carry the burden with him.

When she tried to play it cool at the suggestion that you should all get together at your place, you hid your wide, knowing smile. You knew she missed having him around. Their bond was something she hadn’t found in anyone else during those years apart.

If you guys don’t hug it out, I’ll wrap you in the same blanket. You threatened as they stood awkwardly in each other’s presence.

Like two siblings who were forced to reconcile by their parent after a fight, they shuffled closer until they exchanged stiff pats on the back. You sneakily recorded the moment - or so you thought.

Hey, I see you! Get back here! Aki yelled as she chased after you.

Escaping the clutches of one was easier than evading the duo that boxed you in, ganging up on you like old times. She scooped you up from your arms while Ruben got your legs. You struggled but eventually conceded, letting your body turn into dead weight in their hold before you were tossed onto your sofa and pummeled with cushions.

Aki took a picture of your disheveled form, hair sticking up in several directions. Sweet revenge.

Ruben smoothed out the wild strands and peppered your face with kisses. His head was the next to fall victim to a flying pillow. He gasped with wide eyes at Aki who shrugged, do that on your own time. You chuckled and returned his gesture.

It was one of the best nights you had in a long time.

You and Ruben also finally got around to doing things like going out on dates in public. He started off by showing you his favorite spot to go when he wanted to clear his mind. The weather had warmed up, making a walk along some trails at the reservoir a comfortable excursion. He brought you an ice cream cone from one of the trucks at the car park, indulging in some as you took in nature.

Ever the romantic, he brought along a blanket and some snacks. You fought against the urge to feed the cute little birds that flitted about while he asked how far you’d made it down your travel bucket list.

I finished it last summer, you grinned.

When you first wrote it, there were only a handful of cities. At that point in your life you never could’ve imagined that you would be able to visit all of the destinations you dreamed of. So, you settled with aiming for only a few.

Let’s make a new one, he pulled out his phone.

You reclined on his chest as you told him anything that came to mind, even the most random choices that left him confused. In the calmness and serenity of your surroundings, you were lulled into a nap beneath his soothing strokes of your waist. When you got home that night, he sent you a screenshot of a booking confirmation to the first new destination.

The following date night found you getting all dressed up for a fancy dinner. As much as you liked staying in and being cozy with Ruben, you also thoroughly enjoyed the princess treatment. He never let you touch a door handle and made sure to pull out your seat for you.

Ruben gazed at you over the dimly lit table in a way that made you wonder if he was hungry for the food or something else. When he told you that you looked ravishing, your silent question was answered. Though he was visibly eager to get you out of your dress, he practiced patience.

To opt for a distraction, you decided to play a game with the other couples around you. Guess their jobs, how long they’d been together and if they actually get on well.

I would hate to be in the room when that guy finds out she’s only using him for an expensive meal, you whispered.

How do you know? Ruben’s mouth dropped.

She’s been texting this entire time under the table, you nudged your head towards the faint glow behind the linen.

Not everyone there was playing pretend. Beside you two being evidence of that, there was another couple on the other side of the room that were so obviously in love, it made your lips tug. Your eyes widened, shoes tapping Ruben’s as you saw the guy sneak a box out of his pocket.

They didn’t make a scene, her yes coming quietly with a series of excited nods before he slipped the ring onto her finger. When your bill came, Ruben asked for theirs as well. On the receipt, you both congratulated them on their engagement and wished them endless years of happiness.

In a way, you felt like you were writing that note as if it were a wish for your future. You and him had went through enough bumps in the road and derailments to last a lifetime. The only thing you wanted to experience now were moments like this - his hand enclosing yours, smiling lips dropping to your bare shoulder and you holding his head there for just one second longer.

You woke up before your alarm, but didn’t feel exhausted.

A consecutive week of good sleep had been bestowed upon you. Whether it was due to having days that left you fulfilled or nights mostly spent cuddled up to Ruben, you’d take it. Last night was one of the few occasions you’d slept alone. He was off again on football duties, but stayed with you on video call up until it was time for lights out.

You took the opportunity the extra time gave to take a long shower and put on that sapphire two piece you had as an option for Erling’s launch party. It looked even better on you today. A slight tan had returned to your skin from basking in a rare sunny day on your boyfriend’s balcony.

The outfit helped you feel like the head of a company, which was what you needed going in to today. Things were doing well enough that you were finally in the position to expand. Cindy had shortlisted some candidates for receptionist and senior developer positions. Naturally, their finals rounds would be held by you.

You made a stop at your favorite cafe on the same street as your office. Along with putting in an order for you and the crew’s regular coffees, you got a box of assorted pastries with varying options in consideration of dietary restrictions - should the prospective hires want a treat as well.

That’s definitely her. MCFCWAGS just posted a picture on their story yesterday.

Your ears caught onto a whisper coming from the table by the window. As tempting as it was to fully turn around, you instead found a reflective surface in the form of an espresso machine to spot a group of teenagers.

She’s prettier in person, how annoying.

That made you squint, unsure of how to feel. Was that a compliment or the backhanded counterpart of one? It was so hard to tell with the unironic/ironic sense of humor Generation Alpha had.

I like that she’s not some thirsty influencer trying to get more followers by being with Ruben.

True…

Someone said they actually grew up together so-

Your order was called, snapping you out of your eavesdropping spell - which perhaps was for the best. There was a simple reason you stayed away from blogs and pages about player’s personal lives: ignorance was bliss.

On your way out, you kept your eyes ahead despite seeing their gazes follow you in your periphery. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding once you were in the clear. Thank goodness they’d spotted you today and not that time you couldn’t be bothered to change out of your pajama bottoms.

“I would kiss you, but unfortunately I know where that mouth’s been.” Aki plucked her iced americano from the cup holder.

“Poetic as always.” You shook your head.

“Cheers, love!” Cindy beamed. “I’ve organized the CVs and notes from my previous interviews in the meeting room for you.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” You groaned appreciatively. “Wish me luck.”

Not long after you’d gotten through browsing the information laid out and finishing your drink, you began your rounds of interviews. The pressure was off on your end since they wouldn’t have made it here if they didn’t meet all the necessary criteria.

All you were interested in was hearing about them. How they preferred to work, any goals they had set professionally or personally and how working at Bana could help in achieving them. Also, any unique qualities, hobbies or experiences, no matter how irrelevant they sounded to the position. You wanted to surround yourself with people that you could learn from, no matter their background.

The good news was that the interviews flew by and went well. That unfortunately was also the bad news. It made an already difficult decision of having to choose only one of them per role even harder. You roped Aki in for objectivity since she didn’t have bias formed on a face to face basis.

By the time you’d came to a consensus, working hours had wrapped up. There was no need to go overtime. For once, you didn’t feel the urge to overachieve and push your projects ahead of schedule. Everything was moving right on track and that was enough. You were learning to be satisfied with that.

“Did you get Ruben’s message?” You asked Aki in the lift back up to your floor.

“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes and when she caught you waiting for the response to your unasked follow up, she plastered on a smile. “And yes, I’ll be there.”

One of the few things you had yet to do as his girlfriend was go to see him play in person. It wasn’t as if you were actively avoiding doing so, at least not in your eyes. You were just waiting to feel comfortable enough to step into a space where you’d only be seen as Ruben Dias’ WAG.

The reason behind why that made you feel a bit of pressure was still unclear, but you didn’t want to delay things any longer. Besides, Erling was pestering you about not taking up his offer from ages ago to give the Etihad a visit. You were approaching the upcoming debut of sorts with a two birds, one stone mentality.

When the weekend rolled around, you found yourself pulling on one of Ruben’s jerseys. A myriad of emotions spun through your mind. One part of you was blushing and giddy, pride swelling at having his name stretched across your back. The other made fun of you for being so cheesy, it sounded like your own mini subconscious Aki.

Hurry up, I need over-buttered popcorn stat.

You laughed at the text sent by your best friend and then clutched your growling stomach. That did sound like it would hit the spot in your intense ovulation cravings. Your purse was quickly stuffed with its essentials before you dashed down to the garage to meet her.

As tempting as it was to poke fun at her wearing a sky blue jersey of her own, although not sporting a name on the back, you kept it inside. She might’ve been the master at heckling, but couldn’t take a jab when she was expressing a bit of vulnerability in her own way.

Cindy was bouncing excitedly when Aki pulled up to load her into the car. She mentioned that she was in fact seeing John and that they were taking things slow. It was her first time attending a game as well, which also added to your reasons for finally mustering up the courage.

Settling into the stadium was a breeze. If there was one thing you wouldn’t complain about that your girlfriend status brought you, it was gonna be the VIP treatment. Aki finally got her popcorn (which you raided), Cindy was joining in with the crowd’s chants and you were busy keeping your eyes peeled for Ruben.

They spotted him as he emerged from the tunnel for team warmups. You blamed your upcoming period for the wetness gathering in your tear ducts. It was just such a full circle moment to be here, seeing him do the thing he’d always wanted to. You cursed yourself for letting your mind overthink and keep you away for so long.

Ruben was completely focused on hyping himself and his teammates up. To be honest, you were getting kind of jealous. Did he forget that you were coming today? Why were they getting all of his attention? You flinched as a stray kernel landed on your forehead.

“No long faces!” Aki did a gesture that told you to smile.

Luckily, you didn’t have to force one on her account. It seemed like her playing it cool act was out of the window then. She was very superstitious when it came to matches. No one was allowed to be negative - not even badmouthing the opponents, should karma be swift - until the final whistle blew.

Your smile turned into a full on beam once warmups were done and Ruben found you. He waved happily, blowing you a kiss to add to the collection in your pocket. It put you at ease enough to recline in your seat until the team came back out for the match start.

Ruben looked…so fucking good. Your gaze found itself falling into his strong arms and back, that jersey of his really doing him every favor possible in emphasizing his best features. Then there were those long, lean legs of his. And his firm ass -

Another popcorn kernel, judgmental glare on the other side of it. “Don’t make that face either.”

You untucked your bottom lip from your teeth and pulled at the neck of your shirt as you mentally smacked yourself. Trying to not fall into some jazzy background music, heavy sigh sound effect riddled daydream about Ruben was easier said than done.

Football was a fun sport, but it was personally not the most entertaining. You were only invested where he was involved. As long as he played to his standard, stayed healthy and won, you were a happy camper. When things didn’t go so well, you were there to be his shoulder to lean on.

Thankfully, the current match seemed to be going in City’s favor. The ball stayed mostly in the opposition’s half, but on the odd chance that it wandered to the home team’s back line, Ruben or John were there to snuff out any threat. Your mini erotic fantasies nearly returned when he made a clean sliding tackle. How did he manage to move so gracefully while literally throwing his body to the floor?

You shook your head to snap out of it just as the final whistle blew. Cindy and Aki stood to their feet, their arms pulling you into a hug that ended in your small huddle jumping together. It was refreshing to be with the girls outside of the office, and you had a sneaking suspicion that match days would be a regular for you three moving forward.

“We’re gonna grab some pints at a nearby pub, you in?” Aki did a shimmy.

“I have plans.” Your face scrunched, response earning you a round of boo’s. “I’ll be there next time and I’ll even pick up the tab for missing out tonight!”

“No taking that back, you know?” Cindy pointed.

You swore you would do no such thing before sending them on their merry way. They skipped happily, probably already contemplating how much damage they were going to do to your poor debit card.

Ruben texted you instructions on how to get to the player’s car park. The pass you had around your neck allowed you to navigate without being stopped or questioned. You were pretty sure that security knew what the player’s partners looked like though. Or rather, you were certain Ruben had shown them a photo of you at least. There were a few extra warm smiles aimed at you as you made your way around back.

“Perfect timing.” Ruben’s voice sounded from behind.

You spun around to see him closing the gap between you two. His arms circled your body as your chin tilted upwards, lips pursing in search for his own. He chuckled and met your request with a firm peck.

“I understand why you have so many obsessed fans now.” You sighed.

“Stop!” Ruben gasped, taking your hand in his.

“Okay, but seriously.” You laced your fingers together. “Watching you play was mesmerizing, awe inspiring, everything of the sort. I’ve never been prouder.”

Reducing him to blushing was one of your favorite things to do, especially because it was so hard to achieve. He was normally the one dealing out the sweet words that had you mentally kicking your feet. This time around though, you promised yourself that you’d return the favor of much as possible.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Ruben kissed your forehead and then your lips again.

You sank into the passenger seat after he opened the door for you to slide in. He ran around to his side and started up the car to get your seat warmer on. The nights were still a bit unforgiving despite the days not being too miserable anymore.

Ruben’s eyes kept darting to your torso. You thought that you were maybe painting him with your own brush when you caught him the first few times, but when his tongue darted to the corner of his lips, you were validated. He was definitely playing his own version of a sensual montage in his head.

“Careful, you might start drooling.” You warned playfully.

His deep laugh slipped out. “I can’t help it! You look so good in that.”

“Do I?” You bit your finger. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to cook breakfast in nothing but your jersey…”

That made him pick up the pace. A drive that already wasn’t too lengthy, the stadium visible from his balcony and all, went by even quicker than usual with your tempting words replaying in a loop in his mind.

Your lips were claimed by Ruben as soon as you both crossed his threshold. It was a desperate and dizzying kiss that spelled out the need to show you everything he’d imagined doing to you earlier. The same energy was returned, if not more so, from your end. You cupped the back of his head, tongue grinding against his urgently.

“I wanna ask you something.” He rasped after you pulled back.

“Ask later,” Your head shook as you dropped to your knees and tugged at his joggers. “This first…”

Any protest he might’ve had subsided rather easily with your hand wrapped around his cock. Ruben groaned, brows pinching at the sight of you knelt before him. You opened your mouth wide and took him as deeply as you could without pause.

That was the kind of mood you were in tonight. All you wanted to do was taste him, take him, make him feel so good that he begged you to stop - or not. Ruben saw it in your eyes that looked up innocently. A startling contrast to the lewd noises his length made while prodding into your throat.

You came up gasping for air. It was a rather quick intermission, your lips skimming along the side of his dick while your jerked him off slightly. You kissed his leaking tip and then you were sucking him off to the point of gagging once again.

“Fuck you’re so pretty like that, baby.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “Can you handle some more?”

You nodded rapidly, begging for him to use your mouth the way you knew he was hoping to from the moment you fell to your knees. Ruben’s palm rested flat against the back of your head before he pushed it forward slowly.

He had you locked in place, there was no way for you to retreat without him releasing you first. You hummed around his cock, relaxing your throat for him. Ruben bared his teeth as he moved his hips back and forth.

Hot tears ran down your cheeks while he fucked your face. You held out for as long as you could, fingernails biting into your palms to help your focus. If he wanted to see who would break first, you were hellbent on making it a very tortuous experience for him.

Your tongue flattened even more, spreading along the back of his cock and sliding side to side across the large vein. Just as you began to curl it slightly, Ruben yanked you off of him and back to your feet.

“Trying to make me cum?” He murmured.

“That’s typically the point of giving head, Gato.” You taunted.

It was a ploy to continue receiving this same version of your boyfriend. He could save the loving and romantic side of himself for the inevitable second round. Right now, you just wanted to be used by him until you were aching.

Ruben spun you around and bent you over the kitchen counter. You bit your lips as he made quick work of getting rid of your trousers and panties, arching your back so that he could see your soaking cunt.

“You’re lucky I need you so bad right now.” Ruben leaned over your body, nibbling your ear.

One of his hands slipped between your thighs to rub your clit in painfully languid circles. You pressed against him with a drawn out moan, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips had barely picked up the rhythm of his fingers before he pulled them away.

“Ru-“

The rest of his name was cut off by a sharp inhale. He had thrusted fully into you, quickly and powerfully. Your walls trembled with the shock and only began to relax when he slowly started to rock his hips into yours.

Your hands searched blindly for something, anything to grip onto while your pussy got the same treatment that your mouth did earlier. They settled for the other edge of the counter, arms stretched above your head. Ruben found a steady pace with ease, going so deep every time he bottomed out that he had you on your tippy toes.

“Where you going, hm?” He circled your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Something between a laugh and a mewl left your mouth, “Fuck you.”

How was it that every time you made a plan to overwhelm him, it always backfired? Okay, it was definitely your fault that things didn’t play out the way you hoped on this occasion. You shouldn’t have riled him up, much less when he still had residual adrenaline pumping from his match.

You certainly weren’t complaining, though. Ruben had you a shaking mess in his hold in no time. You let your cries out, some floating into the air and the rest of them swallowed by him. Your legs turned to jello and were all but useless until you felt a hand come down hard on your ass.

“Shit!” You whimpered.

“Keep these open nice and wide for me.” Ruben chuckled.

He actually didn’t leave you much of a choice. One of your legs was lifted, bent knee propping up onto the counter. You muttered something about him just taking the piss at that point, your head dropping back to rest on his shoulder.

It felt like he was everywhere all at once. A hand toying with one of your swollen nipples, the other swiping some of your slick from your soaking core before two fingers dipped into your mouth. All while he fucked your cum back into you until his own was released, so much that you felt a hot trail run down your inner thigh.

Before even more mess was made in his kitchen, you both scurried over to the bathroom for a quick shower. He sat on the bench while you perched on his lap to wash his hair. Once you were done, you closed your eyes to let him do the same.

“That mouth of yours is…” Ruben shook his head.

“Hmm, let me guess.” You snuggled into the pillow. “It’s your favorite?”

His teeth softly sank into the back of your thigh and you yelped. The sweet version of him was back. He was so concerned that he was a bit too rough earlier. It lead him to kiss up your legs and back as you lied on your stomach.

“And people think I’m the cocky one.” Ruben nuzzled his face in your neck.

You couldn’t help breaking out into laughter. Not because his words were that hilarious, but because his beard was making the gesture tickle. You wiggled around to face him and cupped his cheeks.

God, he was so beautiful. Your fingers connected random lines between his freckles, ran down the length of his nose and traced the shape of his mouth. You’d never get tired of him watching as you marveled in his features.

“Oh!” You gasped. “What did you want to ask me earlier?”

Ruben peeled himself from your hold and disappeared out into the main living area. You sat up, bunching the sheets around your naked body in an attempt to replicate the warmth you’d just lost.

“Close your eyes.” He poked his head back into the room.

Unlike seemingly a lot of people, you loved surprises. There was just something so sweet about someone wanting to do an act or provide a gift, no matter how big or small, that would make their loved one happy.

You did as you were told and let your other senses take over. Ruben’s footsteps came closer until they seized, the bed sinking under his weight again. He took one of your hands in his, quickly placed a slightly sticky object into your palm and wrapped your fingers around it to form a fist.

“Okay, you can open them.” He whispered.

Your left eyelid lifted slowly and then your right. The hand resting in his own remained folded, shaking. It was obviously what your mind deduced it be to based on the size and feel, but seeing it was going to leave you even more wordless than you already were.

You let your fingers spread to reveal a ring.

Not just any engagement piece that was trending or gaudy, but one that held special meaning. You were taken back to the moment you were making vision boards with him on New Year’s in 2017. The company logo you wanted to intern with, pictures of southern Italy and your dream designer shoes made the cut.

What interested Ruben the most was the image of a ring. It wasn’t the most extravagant thing in the world, just a simple but elegant cut of your birthstone surrounded by tiny diamonds. You remembered blushing furiously, making light of its presence on your vision board by saying a girl can dream…

The exact ring was now sitting in the palm of your hand seven years later. It made you wonder if he had it this entire time, if he had gotten it shortly after that day and was waiting for the right moment that year to propose.

“I’ve never pictured my life with anyone but you. At each turn, in every corner of my mind and my heart, I always find you, Y/N.” Ruben stroked your wrist. “This might be sudden, but I just had to ask since I’ve been meaning to for so long.”

He confirmed what you were thinking, making your eyes weld with tears. On top of everything, he carried the additional burden and pain of being robbed of the chance to do this back then.

“What are you waiting for then?” You sniffed. “Ask me.”

Ruben took the ring and held it up, “Will you let me call you mine, forever?”

A laugh broke through your tears. You stuck your left hand out, wiggling your fingers in anticipation. It didn’t shock you that the ring fit perfectly given that your size hadn’t changed. Your ring finger moved up and down, testing the weight of its newest addition. It felt good, right. You grinned.

“Is that a yes?” His thumb ran along your knuckles.

“Yes,” You opened your arms. “Come here.”

Ruben pounced on you, kissing you all over. You surrendered to his seemingly never-ending pecks and compliments. You let go of past anger, hurt and miscommunication. Instead, you opened yourself up to make room for everything that was to come.

All of the moments that would make you proud to call Ruben yours. Forever.

[northern-passage]

[ID: a banner graphic showing the open water of the sea. The water is dark and choppy, with a gray, overcast sky overhead, and fog obscuring the horizon. Text at the center of the image reads: “The Nothern Passage, Chapter 2: Part 1.” Above the text is a vector of two swords crossed in an X.]

The Northern Passage has been updated!

01.10.23: The first part of chapter 2 is now available to play over on itch.io. This includes the Blackwater route only. To access the new content, ensure that you choose to stay in Blackwater rather than leave for Highfell. Saves should work - though I advise you to still keep a save at the end of chapter 1, since any later updates to chapter 2 will require you to play from the start of the chapter again.

Along with the new content, various edits include:

The companions will now introduce themselves with their pronouns, as well as various other characters - Branwen, Mal, Hawkell, etc.

Edited the input process for hunters that use no pronouns. This should help clean up any clunky sentences where the companions talk to/about the hunter as well as allow for the hunter to properly introduce themself with just their name.

A new codex entry on Magic.

Alchemists can now choose to have hand tattoos (though the continuity for this has yet to be fixed).

New content warnings include animal death. This is only in one path, and it is avoidable, relying entirely on the player choosing whether it happens or not.

As always, please feel free to message me here with feedback or if you run into any typos, errors, or bugs, and I’ll work on getting them patched out for you all as soon as possible.

Play it here!

Project Intro | FAQ | Patreon | Tip Jar

Notes under the cut.

Going into chapter 2, there are going to be a few inconsistencies to be aware of, mainly when it comes to the combat - I’ve overhauled how it works, as well as made some adjustments to the magic and alchemy specializations. I’ve wanted to keep my primary focus on chapter 2, so I have not gone back in to make the more extensive edits to the earlier fight with the wraith, so please just bear with me for now! It’s on my list of things to do - it will either be the next update, or the one following the Blackwater part 2 update.

There also may be some inconsistencies around Duncan, and the way the characters talk about him. I’ve been working a lot on Duncan to make him a bit more interesting, but again, just like with the combat it’s just not something I’ve gone back to edit in the earlier chapters just yet.

And finally, the codex and character page have not been updated (aside from the Magic entry). There are a few other new codex entries visible, however they are currently empty. The codex as well as the character page have been frustrating me for a while, and I’m trying to figure out exactly what it is I want to do with them... so for the time being, the relationship statuses on the character page are going to be inaccurate, though your displayed top trait should still be accurate. It won’t lock in until chapter 3, but you can get an idea of what you’re trending towards by checking the character page. I still plan to add the hunter’s physical description to that page as well, I know a lot of you have been asking for it, and I promise it’s definitely something I plan to add once I sort those pages out.

Otherwise, I just want to say thank you all for your incredible patience waiting for this update! I’m very excited to finally share it with you :-)

[guilty-pleasures21]

The perfect guy

I have decided to follow a Monday/Thursday schedule, friends. Note: the list of chapters currently released only includes the ones I've already written and drafted as posts. I still have a few more coming, so fret not my thirsty friends!

Also, I hope everyone has an easy week 🥰.

The project

The new guy

The lie

The new body

The hospital

The first time

The suit

The virus

The escape

Warnings: None

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

     Margo strode past the grumpy, dark-haired scientist hunched over his desk. “New girl’s coming tomorrow.”

     Eddie grunted in acknowledgement of her pointless statement: he didn’t need someone else to come and mess up all the research he’d already done. No, what he really needed was a living test subject - someone into whom he could code the genetic sequences he'd been working on in order to study their effects on humans. Margo stepped back to his bench and placed a hand on her hip.

     “I hope this isn’t the attitude you’ll be giving her on her first day.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned closer to him, her eyes narrowing and her frown curling up at the ends into a wicked smile. “Save it for the third day.”

     Eddie rolled his eyes and waved her away, too focused on mixing his PCR reagents together. He’d have to make sure to keep this new girl far, far away from his research.

     “And they’ll let me stay with you?” Miguel asked quickly, the speed of his response making up for the lack of hopefulness in his tone. It wasn't his fault he didn't know what it felt like to hope though. X scrolled through the contract again.

     “Yup!” she confirmed. “I made sure they put that in there.”

     “But …” Miguel paused, running through the list of topics he'd noted down that she didn't like talking about. He couldn't find what he wanted to ask anywhere on it, so he pressed on. “Would you still want me? If I had powers like that?”

     He was referring to the arachnid powers that the military wanted to encode into his future human body: one of the stipulations they’d included in exchange for their support with her research. But it didn't matter to her - nothing mattered as long as she got to see him, to touch him, to hold him tight and inhale the scent of him, whatever it would be. She grinned at the thought. “Of course! The powers are just … They don’t take anything away from you. You’re still you.”

     Miguel smiled back at her, sparking at her response. “Have you signed it?”

     X snickered at his enthusiasm. “No: I wanted to check with you first. You’ve run all the possibilities?”

     Miguel took a moment to run through the contract again. 

     “You’ll own me, but they’ll own all your research,” he summarised. “That means that they could make thousands of other people just like me if it works.” X's stomach curdled at the thought. She knew it was a great risk, giving the scarily well-funded military the opportunity to build their own ‘super soldiers’ but … she wanted to be selfish.

     “We can deal with that when we come to it,” X decided finally, not wanting to dampen her excitement at finally being able to be with Miguel. “Maybe you can just pretend to get sick or something?” 

     Miguel nodded eagerly in agreement. 

     “Okay.” Whatever it took to be with her, he’d do it. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you, mi amor. Te-” ‘Te amo, querida,’ he wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t tell her that because he didn’t know what it actually meant to love someone. And she’d always wave him off whenever he’d tried to say it before, dismissing him with a non-committal hum that had his processing speed slowing down. So he’d just stopped saying it all together.

     She smiled at how easily he'd always say it. He’d always tell her he loved her with such conviction that she could almost believe it was true. But she was terrified to let herself believe it until he was a real human being upon whom she could shower all her love and be loved in return.

     “I …” She swallowed the words down, still unable to say it, not yet. “I want you too, Miguel.” Her lips curled at the ends at the thought and he felt his code start to speed up again.

     “When do you start?” he asked, impatient for the day he'd finally be able to see her smile without the screen coming in the way.

     “As soon as I sign the contract,” she replied, uncapping her stylus and holding it over the tablet. “So probably tomorrow.”

     “Scan it once you’re done - I’ll send it over immediately.” His words came out faster than normal and X laughed at his eagerness.

     “No blackouts, Miguel,” she warned him, signing her name on the contract and promising the research she’d spent a lifetime working on to the military. Miguel smiled, sparking at the happiness on her face.

     “No blackouts, querida.”

     “And this is Eddie,” Margo introduced, stopping at his bench with their new recruit, “the Spiderman nerd you’ll be stuck with for the next few years.” Eddie snorted as he adjusted the focus on his microscope.

     “Let’s see how she survives the next few days,” he challenged, unimpressed. Then he scowled at Margo's insult. “And I am not a ‘Spiderman nerd’.” He turned to shoot her a glare, but then his gaze landed on the new girl and he paused. She was pretty - in a cute way. Long eyelashes, perfectly almond-shaped eyes, rosy lips. And she had a nice figure too, if he had any time outside of his research to think about that sort of thing. X's eyes widened with awe as she met his gaze.

     “You’re the one who figured out how to incorporate the arachnid DNA into human DNA?” They'd allowed her access to all their confidential files once she’d sent over the signed contract and she'd spent almost the entire night going over it with Miguel. “Okay, so, can I go over the web-shooters with you? So, we’ll need a secretory organ to make those work, right? Do you think we could make it open up beneath his fingernails or something? I don’t want him to be exposed to the outside environment so close to his blood vessels.” She pulled out the chair beside him and took a seat, waiting for his response as he digested her words. 

     “Uh, sure,” he replied, a little talen aback by her enthusiasm. Her first day and she already wanted to jump right into it? He turned to face her, considering all the alternatives himself. “But then wouldn’t his fingernails stop the webs from shooting out?”

     X stopped to think about it, her head tilting to the side and her lips pursing in a way that made his chest start to warm.

     “Hmm, that makes sense. What about …” She grabbed a nearby piece of paper to start jotting down all their ideas, and he wondered if maybe they would get along after all.

Tags: @jadeloverxd

[kosmicdream]

The FATE of FEAST FOR A KING

.. and Nasty Red Dogs… 

And some other miscellaneous thoughts about comics, writing, and time.... AND ENDINGS...

============= 

As I’m approaching 10 years on FFAK and NRD is currently 5, I’ve been reflecting a lot on How far this journey with comics has taken me and how far I still have yet to go. For those unaware, my first webcomic was actually Eggshells, which started in 2011, but i only started posting pages publicly in 2013. It too is unfinished, but its planned for 7 chapters. (I’m currently working on chapter 5, which probably will come out early next year.) I have 9 ongoing comics I’m working on. NINE!! 3 of those are FFAK related. (FFAK, After Dinner Treat, and the prequel series “Help.”) It is so many comics though. And beyond that! I have two other stories I’ve been working on for the past few years in secret, one being Nice Blue Cats, which I might still draw as a comic someday.. As well as a series of “one shots” that is meant to be its own collection. Slugmom and “The Teacher & The Fairy” are part of these one shot collections. Which, uh, it was designed to help me practice writing short stories. Which TT&TF is now going to be three parts long, and roughly 300 pages. So I guess that’s short enough…? Ha.. laughs… Anyway, as I was saying.. Sometimes I’m sure, readers might wonder. “Do you ever feel overwhelmed, with so many projects Kosmic?” Yeah dude. I sure fucking do. I got 9 of them! That’s more than a full pokemon team of projects that are potentially a decade + of work. A couple of them already are a decade old/older at this point. (Praeymoon is actually one of my oldest-lasting projects, even tho its first chapter only finally released in 2023.. I first attempted to draw ch1 back in 2016, but was unable to finish it and scrapped the “full color” angle i was trying then. ) All my current ongoing comic projects are as follows: Feast for a King, Nasty Red Dogs, Eggshells, The Teacher & the Fairy, Replacer, The Eyes of Miasma, FFAK: After Dinner Treat, FFAK: Help, are all written. The only one which isnt fully written is Praeymoon, which I don’t mind because the way that story is organized is almost more of a sandbox-fantasy world of mini stories. I’ll be honest, if you havent heard of Replacer or The Eyes of Miasma, I don’t blame you- its not that i don’t like those stories. They just kind of are the “most neglected” comics yet I’m also kind of amazed they exist at all, like I DONT know how I found the time to draw over 100 pages for both of them. They also have fully written outlines and all things considered, are probably only going to be under 400-500 pages in length. But that’s still a decent amount of work there. Its been ten years since I more or less started making webcomics… and as I plan, and try to calculate all my projects for the next 10 years, my main priority at the moment is well.. Finishing all of these fucking stories one way or another. Its hard! I don’t know if I can as I put way too much on my plate. But at the same time like.. Whatever. I could easily drop most of them, if I felt inclined to - but I don’t. They are my library of work, and I’ve sort of made an artist oath to myself that I will see as many of them to the end as I can. I’m excited that three are very close to its end. (Nasty Red Dogs, The Teacher & the Fairy, and Eggshells.) After that well.. I’ll see what I can cross off my list next once I get there.. That’s still going to take years to get those done. But hopefully not too many. 

[Spoilers for potential LENGTHS of FFAK/NRD.. And other things.. I speak very transparently about writing and working on comics here AND including my thoughts on ENDINGS.. You’ve been warned]

I’m comfortable enough sharing that the fairy comic is 3 parts, Eggshells is 7 chapters, but when it comes to FFAK/NRD.. Its much harder to give an estimate, or if sharing those things will only be disappointing or annoying to hear about.. If you have ever been around me for more than 10 minutes, i am constantly talk about the “length left” on these projects a lot anyway. At night, i count them in my head. In the day, I write little lists as if I’ve forgotten the names of them.. They are MY LIST.

 But for those who do not know and wish to, NRD is likely going to end with 10 chapters. I have extended this in the past, so it could still change.. but it only really has gotten “longer” due to pacing of scenes rather than the actual content. And Honestly, it was paced out specifically to avoid this next chapter. Not that I didn’t want to draw it, its because i was Scared to do it.. Why? Because there’s cars I have to draw in it. And dogs. I have drawn those things before, at least once or twice. But I do not enjoy drawing cars or dogs. Dogs are okay now, but i hate that they have legs. Dont give me references, i have those. Its just how my brain is, with those fuckign legs and how there’s four of them. I know practice makes perfect. Or do-able. I have drawn amost 1000 pages of NRD, i dont remember how they bend and i’ve forgiven myself for knowing there’s just some things god cannot do, which is to give kosmic the ability to look at a dog leg and understand. Anyway. Because of this reason, somehow, finishing NRD with it only possibly being 4 more chapters, still feels harder than finishing ALL of FFAK - which (drumroll) might be .. only around 10 or 12 chapters left. Yes, you heard me- for the second AND third arc. 10 or 12 more. Will that also change? Probably!!!!!! Like, yes… its been 9 years and I’ve completed a lot more than just 10 chapters of comics in that time.. But wrapping up a story is way harder and I dont know what that’s like..yet! But i feel still confident that i will. I mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to experience it. I used to recoil and fall apart just emotionally contemplating finishing FFAK. my FUCKING baby. My joy. You mean that has to end?? NEVER. My attachment to it and the characters was incomparable to anything else I had done, and in my mind ever WILL make… (and that is still true.) But.. I’m okay with that now and I actually look forward to seeing how it could end up. Even if its bad! 

Its kind of weird to say, I just don’t really think it will be.. super good? Like.. it could be? I don’t know how readers will react. I dont even know how I feel about the whole thing.. I have felt so many feelings about this comic already, now I’m kind of.. Past it in a new stage. Zen like peace almost. There’s just.. so much that I wanted to PUT in FFAK and so much i could STILL put in. But I kind of just am okay with what i wrote, does that even make sense? The whole comic has felt like such a fluke to me, from the very start. And I managed to accidentally make so many great things in it I don’t actually understand sometimes. And my dreams for the comic has been nearly limitless. I couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings I’ve had over this story over the many years I have been making it, and all the incredible narrative outcomes I could see the characters going in.. the possibilities, the parallels.. The anime music videos..  I would NOT compare my writing style to GRRM, I haven’t read his books. but I can’t help but feel a bit like a weird baby version of him with the amount of cast members I have to push around and draw.. And I want to be clear. If FFAK was written as a book, it wouldn’t happen. I cannot write books. I do not think writing books is easier/faster than making comics, but sometimes it is hard to have to draw everyone. Point is, I understand the reality of a long-term comic project now, I have numbers and logs to prove it  and my range. And I’m fairly consistent, even in my low days. So.. in recent years my writing style has.. has changed to accommodate.. Those.. General Realities i’ve observed in myself. 

That’s why the second arc excites me. It has a lot of uhh, urgency that underlies it. You might have already noticed a change in the tone in chapter 16, which I’ve been working on for almost a year now. (I mean, I’ve been working on the written version for.. LOL.. much longer.) Maybe you haven’t! It could all just be from my own POV with how differently i feel that I delegate time to characters now. I did not start “writing” FFAK until chapter 10, and then i did not really start WRITING writing ffak until about.. Honestly, i want to say as late as 2019. It TOOK SO LONG you guys. I dont even know how many fucking thousands of pages of madness word documents I’ve got, with revision after revision and trying to list, contain, every possibly plotline… character backstory.. Blah blah blah.. Ive cut it down so much its impressive only to me. I don’t remember my lore anymore , and i love it. My readers probably know my lore better, and I don’t love it. Except when it benefits me. Then Its good. I would not describe myself as a RUTHLESS cut THROAT author, im actually too way sentimental to really let go of anyone. That’s why it took me so long to kill off Rock, but also because I wanted spoon to look really sexy and evil and that’s hard to do sometimes when I cant remember what half side he is. And when he was flipping around, I had to actually make a paper doll for him so i could TRY .. TRY to draw his arm on the correct side. Sometimes I didn’t. I just let it go if the drawing is good enough and i let it be a fun game for the readers to catch. But anyway, That’s why characters like Aeschylus are still around. Now that time has passed, I kind of regret it. Rome was right.. I dont need Aeschylus here and I’m mad he brought his friend Randall too. That being said, they’re some of my favorite characters in this arc even if they’re totally useless. In general, i have tried my best to not repeat all my writing sins and all my regrets of arc 1. I would not have been able to do this without the help of NRD to help get me to see that I can get attached and motivated to write new stories. When I hit my writing block in 2016/2017, it almost broke FFAK. FFAK still continued, but it also didn’t. But i was patient, and i worked through it.. And now I look forward to the ends of my comics, not because I want them to end but I’m very deeply excited for all the new opportunities my imagination to go to. I don’t know what that will be like. I don’t know how long it will still take me to get there, but I have it on [digital] paper and it does feel good to see that. Its affirming. I feel like i have a clear mission and I feel strong enough to really do it and commit to it. The second arc has barely started but in my heart I’ve made peace with the ending, whatever it might actually result as. 

Plus if I finish it and its so bad, I’m sure that will be inspiring in itself! People might actually write fanfics!! I think a lot of readers are NOT going to enjoy the ships, for one. The MEAN greedy part of me hopes they don’t. That’s the most ruthless part of my writing to me is the ship choices. Oh! My evil mind. I mean theres no possible way to please everyone, or even myself, but there is a possible way to displease a lot of people. Including myself. So that’s kind of the route I find myself drawn to. Why? Because it gets me out of the hole of like.. I dunno, being stuck. 

I used to write out a lot of big posts but over the years, I’ve kinda stopped. Mostly bc they were honestly really repetitive..or about lore that didn’t truly matter too much… That hasn’t really changed. This post is more or less “im still working on it, everyone! Just hang tight! Wow it’ll be a crazy wild ride” but it also is something I wanted to write to myself as words of encouragement. This has been a tough year. Like so tough that its hard to think about. But its very nice to feel like, i guess, my drive for my stories hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, i really feel like i’ve gone through the mourning and ego death of “not being able to write a thing how you want” and now I’ve made total peace with it. Its just gonna be what it is, and I like that actually. When my life is tough, my comics at the moment serve as a place of hope for me - and assurance that I can survive through tough years. That’s the message they have ultimately given me, finished or not. And… I honestly don’t think of FFAK or NRD as my masterpieces or anything, but i know they might very well be the only stories people will know of when they think of me. If they think of me! So I wanna do a complete job with those. Rest assured, it’ll get there. I cant make big promises about all the comics I work on… even the bonus comics for FFAK, but at least those main two are my main priorities. That has not changed. THE FIRE is still in me. Even if FFAK took a like.. Mental.. 5 year hiatus its back baby. 

I’m about 30 pages in to my 50 page script for chapter 16, so I guess it’ll be around 300-400 pages more before its done. Things are picking up speed! So it could be less. I am also preparing for the monster that is the 7th nasty red dogs chapter. I cannot stress ENOUGH that this next chapter, I have put off since chapter 4. Yes, I’ve actually buffed the story out to be longer than it intended, just to avoid drawing it. I even put a horse guy in there, I never draw horses because those ALSO have legs but they’re worse than dog legs. And, its not that i didn’t want to draw this part of the comic! But I didn’t think i could do it. It intimidated me. It still does, but, I’m gonna do it already. I know chapters 8-10 will be hard too but like…eh… I know in my heart its gonna really be about 7 for me. It always has been about 7 to me.. 2024 will be a big year for my comics for sure, just because of that alone I think. Not only will I have chapter 16 done, as the first step of the 2nd arc and a new adventure of my apocalyptic wormy drama, I’ll be facing my fears of the dog variety. Its TIME. 

I’m so happy people have stuck around for my work, or shared it with others, even if they’re a strange mess. Its interesting to see, who comes and goes. I still enjoy refreshing my comments every morning when I wake up, and right before I go to bed. Its comforting.

My closing thoughts on this. I don’t HATE the ending of FFAK. I… like it! Its an ending. But I LOVE the ending to NRD. i think that ones legit good, i hope. With FFAK, part of me kinda hopes that turning up the pressure on myself of proceeding anyway will help the story. I don’t really know, or expect the ending to change though LOL…. Maybe i’ll come up with something better, but it will be too late so I cant do it or something, and then we can ALL write fanfics together of something else. Then sometimes I think about GUNNM and how the first ending was retconned but then last order was like? Basically the first ending again? I dont know actually, its hard to remember. THATS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN BTW. Also the ending is not everyone dies, even though that ending is fun and tempting. I didn’t do it, because end of evangelion already exists and its got a great song to go along with it too. YES it is also tempting to have someone go “WELL That was A FEAST.. For a KING” as the like final line, but I.. it wont wont. I prommy i take the ending seriously.

The reason I wanted to write all this, with webcomics, I think in general too people are so scared about writing their big comics that take 328523895235 years and the ending being bad. I see so many webcomics just, kinda die before the finale.. Which I totally understand, But I just.. Wanna show everyone that its much better and much more satisfying to just write the ending even if its a fucking disaster LOL. Because ultimately, its a webcomic. I don’t even know how to spell but people read mine! And so.. If theres anything I feel like i can promise and deliver to the world of the internet/my readers, is this big fucking disaster mess.. But it will end someday! And I’ll miss it. I hope readers will too, when that day comes (?) in probably another… 10 years…. idk.... BUT UNTIL THEN.. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of chapter 16!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Kosmic Dream

[zazzedcoffee]

There are polls on 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 dot com

Quite a few people have been asking how I have been making these polls. To make them I have been using the Tumblr API. While it is currently undocumented – there is a polls API route that allows you to post and get poll data. While the Tumblr UI puts quite a few restrictions on how many polls can be in a single post and when polls finish, the API currently has no restrictions on this*.

Poll Behaviour

Each poll and poll answer has a uuid tag (a "client_id") that should, ideally, uniquely identify each poll and poll answer. Silly things start to happen when you make a post with two polls with the same client_id, or one poll with several answers with the same client_id. This is how I made this monstrosity.

Polls also have an "expire_after" tag that allows you to set the deadline for the poll. While the UI restricts this to one day or one week, you can put in any time you like for this. This is how I made the 50-year horsie poll and whatever this is.

There are other fun things like being able to put newlines in polls which only display on mobile for some reason.

Can you make polls like this too?

Yes. In fact, from the beginning, I have had a python package that handles posting polls in a public GitHub repository. All you would need to do is register an app on the Tumblr API to get the various necessary authentication tokens and go ham**. Just be warned, I don't intend for this to be a fully-fledged implementation of the Tumblr API, but it gets the job done and will be useful for a few other projects I'm working on. I don't know when they are planning on adding polls to the API docs, or the official Tumblr clients – but I presume that by the time they do, these zany polls will sadly be no more. It seems like the polls API is still being worked on and I can imagine a lot of these issues (I call them features) being fixed. So let's have fun with it while it lasts.

Making your own fun poll

Let's try to recreate this post using my tumblr-dot-com package. Following the example on the readme to set up a tumblr object for your blog with the necessary auth tokens, the post can be constructed as:

# ... snip content = ( Content() .poll( "Wie cool ist das bitte?", [ "Jetzt zocke ich Fortnite", "und trinke Cola", "YIPPEE!" ], option_uuids=[uuid4()] * 3 ) )

res = tumblr.post( content=content, tags=["Yippee!!", "polls"], )

# ... snip

Here, the post content is being constructed with a single poll block – the option_uuids is an optional list parameter that allows you to pass custom uuids for the poll options. Here, the option_uuids is being set to the same uuid repeated three times – which causes votes to be counted for all three options at once.

I hope you enjoy this fun little tumblr client – again, it doesn't implement everything from the tumblr API but should be good enough a least to have a play around. Just a final note – since the polls API is not yet final, I am expecting some of the poll-specific behaviour of this client to break at some point – so be warned.

Notes:

* Beyond the other API post restrictions. And, this is probably going to be patched (see this comment).

** This may make your Tumblr account look suspiciously like one of the pretty lady spam bot accounts causing your account to get blasted like mine did.

[shinnith]

Best Sims 4 Script Mods✨

wanted a masterlist on this site of my "cannot live without" mods, so buckle up and get ready for your game to finally become even better!

Note: Playing on basic hardware and think your game can't run this high of scripts? My specs are a laptop with barely 4 GB of usable RAM and the most basic cpu+gpu out there. Go ham.

⭐List is under the cut and includes scripts like "All Worlds/Secret Worlds Residential", "Travel to Hidden World Easily", top notch map/loading screen replacements, ongoing projects like "sims 4 multiplayer" and more⭐

Gameplay Tweaks:

✨Darkmode ★ By: Dskecht

As of making this, both Arnie's Darkmode/Plumfruit are broken and will probably stay that way due to their retirement. Dskecht is currently hard at work with updating theirs though, which you can find at the link above, and their main updates about patch fixes here.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨All Worlds Are Residential ★ By: Zerbu

With this, destination type worlds (granite falls, selvadorada/ect) and hidden worlds (sylvan glade/forgotten grotto/ect) become residential or whatever lot type you want them to be. You'll need the creator's Venue Changes mod along with it. Cannot explain how important this mod is.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Travel To Venue/Hidden World ★ By: TwelfthDoctor

Quickly travel to places like Forgotten Grotto and more- all from your cell phone!

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨OMSP Shelf ★ By: AmoeBae

This "shelf" is basically a placeholder and has many slots, which doesn't conflict on placement and you can then turn invisible. If that sounds confusing, basically: wow shelf/table full of decorations instead of like two weirdly placed objects.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨More Traits ★ By: MapleBell

A lot of good traits, that I feel go well with a "maxis match" or "basegame" playthrough.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Photographic Memory ★ By: RSVN

Take better photos with a custom camera and frame them in different frames, polaroids, canvases, calendars, ect. Beautiful work.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Sacrificial's Mods

The creator of "Extreme Violence" brings you a ton of other elements. Armageddon, Zombies, Life tragedies, possessed or murderous children & so much more. Go wild.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨TurboDriver's Mods

Wouldn't be a complete list without the creator of "whickedwhims". Kudos, TurboDriver.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Basemental's Mods

Mods which are full o' vices, if you catch my drift. All of their work is amazing and goes super well with sacrificial & turbodriver's work.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

More Scripts:

✨Dershayan & 20thCenturyPlumbob Maps/Loading Screen Replacements

I can't choose a favorite set- both creators have made beautiful work, though Dershayan only offers map replacements.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨More Columns in CAS ★ By: weerbesu

CAS UI is incredibly irritating and this helps by giving more columns. You have different choices for how many you want.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Better BuildBuy ★ By: TwistedMexi

Will change your life and TwistedMexi will become like family. Oh, and did I mention it has live camera (tab key) in build mode?

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨ColorPicker ★ By: Carl's Guides

Hate the game's colors with objects? Carl is here to help.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨T.O.O.L ★ By: TwistedMexi

Total manipulation over otherwise locked assets in game (ex. non-editable player items/buildings/terrain like those freaking apartment windows you can't delete or change). This creator is currently working on a huge project for this entire community, and is also another concrete presence.

••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆••••⋆

✨Big Ongoing Projects✨

🏆Sims 4 Multiplayer

Creator Simsmultiplayer brings you something we've all talked over for years. It's released, but I haven't tested it myself.

🏆Sims 4 Create-A-World

TwistedMexi comes through once again, but this time with the most complex sims mod were seeing being developed. It has years of work already and is currently still in development. Updates at link above.

----------

Kudos to all mod + creators- big and small💞 This game has been tweaked, redesigned and literally fixed by modders time and time again and our community gets even more vibrant each day with their talents. After almost ten years in this community, I have seen such amazing work and tireless effort to creations of assets & mechanics, fixes to game bugs of all types and providing of technical support. We love you guys💖

[omorimodreverie]

Reverie Dev Log - November and December

Side Note: This one is quite long, if you only want an important part, there is a TL;DR summary at the bottom.

New Year Note

Happy New Year! We have now reached 2024! Reverie has begun as a little project since April 2021, before it even has its name. The more modern variant began after the demo release in August 2021, with CH1 releasing in May 2022, so it’s been a long way.

Though to admit, considering CH2.5 update came in December 2022, this means CH3 has a gap of a year now (though there are some updates and patches on 2.5 for a few months. This makes it seem like progress has been in stagnation, especially with delayed dev log recently.

This one will be shorter in technical and progress details, and more about the general gist of development plans in general, the surrounding environmental change in modding and OMORI as a whole (as that bears a great effect currently), and finally explains the slow down a bit (though a TL;DR: basically the past few months is holidays).

Also, Development post will now rather be every 2 months as well.

(And also the time is better spent on actually development than just writing, lol)

Overview

November and December for its period of time wasn’t as much done compared to previous months, though it wasn’t as bad as the worst case scenario when factoring in multiple holidays coming in that could have easily killed the motivation entirely. So all things considered, it’s relatively steady going despite the circumstances

For a quick rundown:

More NPCs implemented in maps

Writing is a bit more organized and more steady in terms of work now (And also an additional writer member!)

Portraits started to be done for most main characters

Connected up some progression from separate disjointed cutscenes

Some new plans that reduces workload*

Some enemy sprites are done as well on the side**

A few changes and re-polish on some music tracks

*for example, sunset are done on same map with filter than whole new set of maps

**Which are low priority, more of optional content in CH3 context

Updates, Changes and Needs

There are multiple factors that affect development, here it will be listed from short term factor to long term factor and potential future.

Holiday and Breaks

Let’s start with easy stuff, the short term factor. The past few months contain multiple holidays and also school breaks for some people. There isn’t much to say here, people on holidays get busy therefore less people are doing mod work, especially Christmas and New Year holiday.

(I mean, reverie is a fan mod project, not a job, lol)

Though there is still at least some minimum baseline of trying to keep interest up with some check in, so the interest doesn’t die off entirely, as mentioned in previous Dev Log before large holidays tend to be in big risk for that.

CH3 and Real World Content

One major thing to think about is the length of the real world section and the amount of content it has. The real world content has a large upfront cost due to making an entire new asset for the majority of aspects, so any new things added more will take far longer time than usual other chapters in the dream world.

There are two major aspects to consider, the mandatory story aspect, and the optional side content aspect. 

Mandatory / Story Content

As of current the main story aspect of CH3 is quite short, unlike Dreamworld areas, the Real world main content mostly revolves around cutscenes and dialogues, if you speed through the dialogue and cutscenes, it could very well take only half an hour or less to go through (though that’s unlikely the way it’s played on first playthrough at least, ignoring reading time).

One conflict is that, Reverie as a mod is far more focused on Dreamworld sections and battle heavy, making real world sections a bit awkward to make, taking quite a large amount of development time compared to other dream world chapters. The question then is how much real world content should be made, factoring in development time?

Side / Optional Content

As for side content, like in base game it’s mostly NPCs giving fetch quests (which are simpler to make), or potentially jobs (which is a bit more complex).

One unique aspect of Reverie over the base game though, is some amount of gameplay battles to at least give something to do (think of Jackson poster in Hobbeez in base game, but more fleshed out).

The important question is, how much side content should there be in the real world section of reverie? While it is cool to have some side content in real world and is a common complaint on base game itself that the real world feels lackluster, making more things in real world also takes up a large amount of development time which is not ideal. It’s a balancing act between not too lackluster but also not too much content which would take too much time.

RPGMV Needs and Modding Community

And finally, the general community aspect. The OMORI fandom has aged quite a while now, and as time passes the amount of people interested is reduced as well. This project is ultimately a fan project so the amount of interest on the mod isn’t really a problem, but what does this mean is there are less people interested in OMORI and also modding in general,.

A fair amount of people who tend to do RPGMaker MV (RPGMV) works tend to now be out no longer modding, or new members who do would tend to be making own project anyways. This means there has been less people who are available with RPGMV side, which means aspects like cutscenes should be cut down smaller to avoid development hell.

What this means for development is the gears shift from previous usual development focused on efficiency (getting task as parallel as possible), to a slower but sustainable development, focusing more on sustaining interest, which is better than losing interest totally.

TL;DR

Basically, the key important points are:

Short term aspect of Holidays and New Year makes November and December slow period in general.

Real World content (and CH3 by extension) is more time consuming and harder to make than other chapters

Therefore, amount of Real World content needs to be discussed, both mandatory and optional content

There has been less people in Omori community in general meaning there is less people to go by, especially RPGMV sector

Therefore, development has switched to a more slow burn state, taking things slow but sustaining interest to avoid burn out or lost motivation

And for development posts, now will be posting every 2 months than every months instead to reduce writing.

And about Applications...

Applications are always open! RPGMV / Programmers are always appreciated!

Final Stuff

Well now that you read this far, here's some portrait of Daphne and Bowen! (and also probably the only few sprite that is showable related to CH3 now)

There isn't much detail, but when resized down it is enough as a sprite

[the-random-phan]

Wow, tough crowd.

Summary:

Daniel James Fenton had lasted a total of one month in space until his fellow crew members finally caught on to him. Which was both disappointing and a feat to behold, in all honesty.

Word Count: 4,506

Ao3 | FFnet

Story below the cut!

The Janus was a brand new space station, freshly launched into orbit and in its first year of operation. The current squad were the first to inhabit the station, and thus their interpersonal roots went deep. They had trained together, worked together, bled together, and even lived together back on Earth. As a team, they muddled through the glitches and hang-ups that came with pretty much being the guinea pigs of the Janus program. There were 5 of them on the team, though only 4 and a half were human.

Daniel James Fenton was a critical team member on the Janus, the first consult for everything engineering and mechanical on board. He was also Danny Phantom, a super-powered ghost, which was a closely held secret amongst the crew.

Danny had truly tried his best to keep his dual identities from the crew, and had maintained his secret up until right after they were sent into space. Which was amazing in itself, looking at the menagerie of tests they had gone through to procure their spots and ensure their individual safeties in space. It was a miracle he’d gotten as far as he did.

It was the youngest of their group -Isabella (their resident master of technology, who could fix just about anything that had a computer in it)- who started the unraveling of Danny’s web of lies. It all started with the first time Danny went on a spacewalk. He moved fluidly, gliding with more grace than the clutz had any right to. He had even tripped up the steps when they boarded the shuttle that carried them up to the station.

Danny pushed off from a handle and then spun in midair to get to where he wanted. It seemed almost like Danny didn’t care for momentum and just… moved. Slid across space. Isabella didn’t see it at first, but once she did it was hard to ignore. He got sloppier and sloppier as the walk went on, almost like he forgot she was there. He kicked off from one place then made a 90 degree turn to get to where he needed. It was almost… unsettling. Uncanny valley?

Of course, Isabella didn’t tell him that. She took a mental note and proceeded with her day, deciding to watch Danny a bit more carefully.

“Come on in, I think that’s everything.” She said into her mic.

“Heading that way,” Replied Danny as he launched off, did a spin, and then came to the airlock. Isabella caught a grin on his face.

~~~~

Jamie caught on to it next. Jamie was a physics wiz, and spent a lot of time making observations on the celestial bodies that surrounded them. And thus he was quite good at observing his teammates as well.

He and Danny were using some of their down time to hang out in the common area. They chatted idly about what they were working on, but when Jamie mentioned his parents and what they did for a living, Danny’s expression soured. The awkward silence lasted for only a moment, until Danny proposed a game of Uno. He procured the cards from a pocket in his pants and dealt them out, letting the cards hang midair.

Such an action wouldn’t have normally been odd.

Jamie was the team lead, and thus knew for a fact that a pack of Uno cards were not among the list of items Danny brought to the station. But Jamie was not entirely certain in his memory, and he didn’t mention it. They played a couple of rounds and even got the rest of the team in on it, which Joel ended up winning.

~~~~

Joel was yet another member of the group. He had been reluctant to join the project at first but was practically shoved into it for his excellent performance in genetics research. Though at first unwilling, he got along with the rest of the team like wildfire and soon fell into their rhythm with ease. He was the resident biologist, and his green thumbs managed the small garden they had on board. It was where he could most often be found. He also had a running experiment with some creepy-crawlies, all of which he had named. No one was looking forward to the day when they had to hold a funeral for one of the bugs, as Joel had gotten quite attached. Joel had a floppy head of green-black hair (the dye had slowly faded as his roots grew) and a huge pair of glasses that dwarfed his face.

Joel’s realization that something wasn’t quite right came about on the day that Danny was in the garden wing. Danny was helping Joel record data on the state of the various plants they grew. Joel left the more complicated stuff for later and simply handed Danny a micrometer to use in measuring the plants’ stems and leaves.

It was Danny’s first time assisting, so Joel followed him closely. And in doing so he noticed how his teammate was distinctly avoiding a certain flower that grew in the back corner. Each time Danny floated near he would grab for a handhold and steer himself away. Joel thought that maybe he saw Danny’s eyes water.

But that couldn’t be right, could it? Due to his field, Joel had been privy to the allergy section of everyone’s medical records. He had carefully selected all of the specimens and seeds to be brought on board so that they wouldn’t aggravate any allergies the crew might’ve had. Maybe it was an undiscovered allergy?

Joel had just opened his mouth to speak when suddenly Danny sneezed. The sneeze was sudden and unavoidable. Danny brought up a hand to cover the blast as best he could, but droplets of gook still shot off into the air. Joel brought up an arm to protect his face from any stray droplets.

“Oh, Ancients.” Danny cursed, (though it wasn’t a curse Joel had ever heard before) as he looked down at the snot covering his hand.

“Don’t move-!” Joel said quickly as he shot off to grab a wipe from underneath the plant beds. He took his eyes off of Danny for a moment and when he looked back up he could swear Danny was now on the other side of him. Away from the flower.

Joel helped Danny clean the mess as best he could and sent him away. Danny didn’t offer anything about the allergy and Joel was so distressed with snot particles still buzzing around that he forgot to ask. And of course he still had to record the measurements of the strange plant. Perhaps he would research a bit more about it before confronting his teammate.

~~~~

Max was the oldest of the crew, and he certainly let everybody know it. He acted almost like everybody’s grandpa, making sure they were doing ok and that they didn’t need anything. He wasn’t really old enough to be a grandpa, but it was what everybody ended up calling him. Max still had a head of brown, though a few stray whites had appeared in his facial hair. He was the team’s jack-of-all-trades. He wasn’t particularly the best at any of the jobs required on board, but he had a wide array of knowledge stuck up in his head. He could help with anything from hydraulics to C++. He’d had his fingers in everything throughout the time of his life, and his well-roundedness helped to smooth out gaps with the rest of the team.

And as the grandpa of the station, he was reasonably concerned when he couldn’t find Danny anywhere.

Max had a bit of downtime as he waited for a diagnostics program to run, and he had realized suddenly that it was just a bit too quiet. Danny liked to mutter under his breath, and as they both preferred the more hands-on side of things, he and Danny often worked in the same area. Or at the very least in the same wing. But the boy was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t like he could really go anywhere, really, but it was still cause for concern. What if he did something stupid like going for a spacewalk without an observer? No such thing was on the schedule for the day, but Danny tended to get wrapped up in his own head from time to time and skip safety procedures.

Curious and slightly worried, Max went around to their teammates checking if Danny was with them. He stopped at the garden first. It had a sealed door, for the purpose of measuring oxygen levels and keeping a controlled environment when needed. Max knocked and the door slid open. Joel was inside, at the door controls. He held a tablet loosely in the crook of his left arm, as though he had just been marking something down.

“What’s up?” Joel asked. He pushed off and glided back to a strange-looking flower, one with a red bloom and purple stems. Max had never seen anything of the sort. Max moved slightly into the space. He looked around, but didn’t see Danny.

“Have you seen Danny since breakfast?” Replied Max.

~~~~

As soon as Danny saw the rest of the crew gathered in the common area he knew he’d messed up. It didn’t help that he had a McDonalds Sprite in hand. (It was the closest thing he had found to downing straight ectoplasm). He debated for a moment on turning it invisible in his hand but from the speed at which everyone’s heads had swiveled to see him, he knew he’d been caught. (At least he’d had the tact to revert to human form before phasing into the station).

“What have you got there, Danny?” Questioned Jamie with a raised brow.

“Uh-” Danny stared blankly down at the drink in his hand. His brain froze.

“A smoothie?” Danny referenced. Sadly his joke didn’t seem to land. It was a very icy reception. Awkward, Danny glanced off to the side and took an idle sip from his drink. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Isabella was the next to speak.

“We know there’s something up with you, Fenton. Is it something that’s gonna endanger the team?” She asked coldly. She hovered up near the roof, grasping one of the bright blue handles. A tablet floated idly next to her.

Danny sputtered.

“No- of course not!” He said without thinking.

“So there is something going on!” She shouted victoriously. Heat rushed to Danny’s cheeks. Jazz pulls those mind-tricks on him all the time, how’d he miss it?

“Danny,” Said Joel seriously. All eyes turned to him.

“Are you an alien?” He whispered conspiratorially. There was a bright glimmer in his eyes.

Okay, that was a new one.

“No way he’s an alien!” Jamie interjected. “My bet’s still on vampire.” He said matter-of-factly. Danny just looked on in disbelief. They started shouting observations and evidence back and forth at each other and suddenly Danny realized he hadn’t been nearly as inconspicuous as he thought. He almost considered trying to sneak off and lock himself in the bathroom when suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder.

Danny jumped, making his head slam into the ceiling. Max idled beneath him, looking slightly guilty.

“You keep getting stuff from somewhere, and you’re acting weird. You might as well tell us what’s up with you. How are you going back to Earth and then appearing back up here?” Max asked, plain and simple. But Danny didn’t know how to respond.

His first instinct was to lie through his teeth, build up a toppling tower of falsities that would surely crush him when it finally collapsed (he still waited for his parents to see that his teenage life was full of plot-holes) but there was no way he could hide this. They caught him red-handed, and there was no way out. Danny couldn’t find the words to explain.

Luckily, Isabella found them for him. (Or not-so luckily, depending on perspective).

“Amity Park, huh?” She said sharply. The tablet was now held in her hands. She turned it around to show a paused video.

It was Wes Weston’s youtube channel. Specifically a video that Danny made him take down. Wes had promised he had, but by the ‘unlisted’ tag, it was clear he hadn’t followed through. Isabella tapped the screen and audio filled the common area.

~~~~

“-Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but I know I’m right!” Wes shouted in the squeaky tone of a teenager whose voice hadn’t quite settled.

“Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom! Here,” Wes gestured to a table behind him, pulled up on a projector that was aimed at his bedroom wall.

“-I kept track of all of Fenton’s bathroom breaks for the last month. Ninety-three percent of them line up with Phantom sightings!” Something clicked and the view changed.

Instead of the graph, it showed an image of 15-year-old Danny Fenton’s yearbook picture. Another click, and it was replaced by Phantom’s, in a remarkably similar angle. Though the expression was different and leaves partially covered the camera. A new slide and suddenly the two were overlaid, one right next to the other. They formed an almost-perfect face. One face.

~~~~

Isabella tapped it again and the video paused at that exact moment. She grinned, not out of maliciousness, but with the glint of a predator who knew they had already won. Damn. How far did she dig to get that?

“According to some old forums, up to like ten years old, Amity Park is infested with supernatural beings called ghosts. A lot of people chalked it up as a tourist hoax, but there are some pretty serious discussions out there. And official records of many deaths being declared as caused by ghosts. A lot of it was deleted or redacted or covered up in some way, but I managed.” She shrugged. Isabella spun the screen back around to herself and swiped down idly.

“The name Fenton also showed up so often, I could filter my search by it. Also repeated mentions of Fentonworks, and various patents filed under the company. Which were all redacted to hell, and had mentions of something called the ‘Ghostly Investigation Ward’ stamped all over them.”

“Looks like they were government funded somehow. Mixed with the forums’ details of them and even some published papers I found, it seems like they were pretty into the paranormal. And Danny ‘Phantom’ sounds pretty ghostly to me.” Isabella looked at him with an expression of inquiry. She feigned innocence.

“You’re too smart.” Danny scathed. Isabella just made a ‘hm’ sound and shrugged.

“It was on the internet. All I had to do was find it.”

“Spill it, ghost boy.” With that final statement, everyone turned to look at Danny. A wave of anxiety rolled over him. The temperature suddenly dipped, before he reigned it back in a split second later. It didn’t stop Max from shivering.

“My parents have been really into ghosts, since college.” Danny started. His hand found its way to the nape of his neck, a nervous tic he’d never really had reason to kick.

“Their life's work was to prove ghosts were real, but their theory was all wrong.” Danny tapped into his core lightly, letting it steer him towards what was technically the floor, and he sat down.

“They thought that ghosts must be evil, so they made all kinds of weapons to fight them. But their crowning achievement was this- portal. A gateway.” Danny looked up and didn’t see any looks of confusion or disgust, so he continued.

“They worked on it for a decade, and they finally finished it when I was 14. They booted it up and it didn’t turn on.” An ache started in Danny’s chest. It felt like swallowing sandpaper.

“My parents went out to get their minds off it and my friends convinced me to go take a look while they were out. Maybe they missed something.”

“One thing led to another, and I went inside. It powered up right on top of me.” Danny didn’t mention the button inside, how his parents’ stupidity had endangered him.

“Turns out ghosts are real, and dying isn’t an absolute.”

“Only a sith deals in absolutes,” Jamie quoted automatically. Then he realized what he’d interrupted and his jaw snapped shut with a click. But the statement was so out of left field that it made Danny bark with laughter. He lost control of the tears that had been threatening to spill down his face the entire time he spoke, and soon he was doubled over from the hilarity of it. It was infectious, and they all started cackling. All but one, that is.

“Is he laughing or crying?!” Joel worried. But he didn’t get a response. Danny was so startled that his core leaked, freezing the tears to his face in sheets of ice. The temperature plummeted, and suddenly no one was laughing anymore.

Danny could feel the tangible shift in the room and it only took him a moment to realize his slip.

“Ah- heck,” He said, still fighting off the last vestiges of laughter. He reigned in his energy, letting it sink back into his skin. It felt nasty, like sucking honey through a straw, but he didn’t want to freeze his crewmates.

“Holy- what was that?” Max asked. He clung to a handrail, where before he’d been hanging in the middle of the room.

“Sorry,” Danny apologized immediately. He formed a quick ball of hot ectoplasm and passed it to Max, who simply stared at the ball of green flames in his hand. He blinked owlishly at it, before Danny realized that most people probably didn’t expect to be handed a fireball.

“Ah- it’s warm, no burns.” He explained quickly. Max lagged for a moment before gingerly poking it. The flames licked playfully at his fingers. After realizing it wasn’t painful, he let Danny deposit it into his cupped hands.

“Wow,” Max stared at it, mesmerized. That is, until Joel interjected.

“So that’s it!” He floated near one of the wall-mounted computers. A page of search results cast light on his glasses, hiding his eyes from view.

“Rosa sanguinolentus are a rare blooming plant in the rose family which is known in folklore as being a ward against ghosts.” Quoted Joel. Upon receiving confused looks, he explained further.

“I have one in the garden, I noticed Danny avoiding it. He also sneezed when he got too close.” Joel offered. In response was a chorus of ‘ew’s. Danny’s nose crinkled at the reminder.

“Blood blossoms,” He said darkly. Danny floated back to his previous sitting spot. Max passed the ecto-ball to Isabella.

“I thought they were extinct. I tried to make sure of it, myself, but I guess I missed some.”

“In this form they’re just an allergen, but they can be deadly. Those buggers hurt.” He got a far-off look in his eye.

“Form?” Max inquired.

“Ah-” Danny started. He floated ever so slightly upwards, then triggered his transformation. He’d learned to minimize the energy wasted when he switched, and thus instead of rings it was a simple flash and Phantom settled over his bones.

Immediately, Danny’s freckles began to glow, as they’d done each time he transformed since being accepted into the program. In the place of a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting pants was instead a slim suit, covered with a dark green leather jacket and a menagerie of belts. Without thinking, a crown formed over Danny’s head. He realized his mistake quickly and spun around, shooing the thing away, making it fade back into energy.

“Was that a crown?” Asked Jamie. Danny was suddenly reminded they only had half the story. The before.

“...maybe.” Danny responded hesitantly.

“I, uh, may or may not have pummeled the former High King of all Ghosts and gained his title through combat?” He said quickly.

“But I can’t really accept it until I’m fully dead, so there’s a council of regents in place until the day comes, or if I’m immortal, then when I turn 180.” Danny ranted.

“I really hope I’m not immortal, but like I’ve only grown 2 inches since I was 14 and I still get handed kids menus, so like- maybe I might be?”

“I only really have two others to compare myself to, and one of them is evil so like he’s not a very good baseline.”

“Wait wait- back up. King? Ghosts have a social structure?” Jamie asked with curiosity in his eyes.

“Kinda..? I’m only half ghost so I don’t fully understand. I tried to avoid the whole thing but then there were a bunch of assassination attempts, so I had to accept it.” Now that Danny had started talking, the admittances just tumbled from his brain.

“Half-ghost?” Joel asked.

“Ectoplasm and electricity equals half death and a bunch of DNA stuff, that’s about all my understanding of it.”

Joel hummed.

“So do you know what that Ghostly Ward is?” Ask Isabella.

“It’s a secret branch of the government, they cover up all the stuff in Amity. Horrible ghost hunters, I don’t think any of them ever landed a shot. But rumor is their scientists are ruthless. They contracted my parents for a lot of weapons, and funded their research."

"I guess Ghostly Investigation Ward is their real name, but I only ever heard them called the Guys in White. They are like, super strict about dress code. I dunno," Danny shrugged.

"So Ah, yeah. Lab accident, half ghost, boom- ghost powers. I got a whole catalogue of 'em. I can go down the list if you want but it might take me a while." Danny reclined in the air. He let his core take hold so he didn't drift from his spot.

"Wait- so how have you been getting to Earth and back?"

"In this form I can withstand space, and I don't need to breathe." Danny suddenly remembered he still had a drink and took another sip.

"Using your powers would be such an asset!" Exclaimed Joel.

"No way can we keep this to ourselves. There's so much you could do!"

Danny's core stuttered in his chest. The temperature dipped.

"There's a reason I've kept it a secret." Danny said coolly, to keep his emotions under wraps. He felt a mixture of anger and he was scared. Scared of what could happen, the liability that had just been created.

"Every time my secret has been revealed I have been hunted and my family's been put in danger. That GIW is no joke- if they got any clue of what I am I'd be dead- fully dead- in a week. I haven't even told my own parents because I'm scared they'd attack me."

"I have more than earned my right to keep it to myself. I have saved the world at least three times, and that's only the times that a Time God didn't warn me beforehand! And you heard of none of them."

The crew just blinked owlishly at him. Danny realized he was floating in empty space.

“Ok…” Isabella said quietly.

“I think I got about half of that.” Jamie replied.

“Ghosts are real?!” Max looked like he was about to go through a midlife crisis. Or a breakdown. One of the two.

Danny steered himself back towards the apparent ‘floor.’ He dropped his ghost form, appearing as Danny Fenton once again. He lowered his voice and spoke more softly, genuinely.

“I’ve had superpowers since I was 14, and up until now only five people in my life knew about it.” ‘One of whom tries to kill me on a regular basis, but they don’t need to know that.’

“I spent my teenage years protecting my town from ghosts and it was a miracle that I finished high school. Let alone got up here where I am now, in space.”

“I’m not completely human, I don’t know what I am, really. But aside from the whole ghost powers thing I’m still the same as I was before my accident.”

Danny took a deep breath, and let it all out.

“Would an ice cream cone for each of you make it better? Or I can get cheeseburgers?” He was obviously trying to placate them. The best way to get somebody on your side was through their stomach.

“I…” Jamie started.

“It’d be a good start.”

~~~~

TWO MONTHS LATER…

“Danny!” Shouted Jamie.

“Where are youuuuuuu!” He called.

Joel appeared from around the hall.

“He’s off-ship, had some date with his partner. An anniversary?”

Jamie huffed.

“He was supposed to take me with him to pick up a cake for Isabella’s birthday.”

“There goes that set of plans.”Jamie threw his hands in the air and set off in the other direction.

“I didn’t forget!” Danny suddenly popped into existence behind Joel, who would have jumped had he not already been floating. Jamie whipped around and came back from the other end of the station. His white hair, black suit, and exorbitant number of belts had become a typical sight.

“Where were you!?” He yelled.

“Well for starters, that date is tomorrow. Also I found this rock outside, it looks unique!” Danny offered the chosen rock to Joel. It was shiny, and glittered in the light.

“Another one? I don’t have space for them all! I am completely overrun as it stands.” Joel sounded tired. Danny’s star-studded freckles dimmed. His pointed ears lowered.

Dang it. Joel couldn’t bear to see that face. Especially after Danny took him back to earth yesterday so he could re-dye his hair. It didn’t help that Danny always looked younger in his ghost form, closer to sixteen than twenty-two.

“Ugghh,” Joel put a hand out and Danny lit up as he handed off the rock.

“You’ll have to tell us more about it at show and tell,” Jamie joked sarcastically.

“For now, we have a walmart cake section to raid!” He announced. Danny laughed, and they left shortly to go procure their prize.

“They do know they aren’t being very slick, right?” Isabella’s head popped out of a nearby compartment. The birthday girl was smiling. Joel just shrugged and left. He needed to get back to his insects. Buggatrina wasn’t eating nearly as much as she should.

~~~~

“WESLEY WESTON!” A mad spirit rampaged the Amity Park News office, darting around and obviously searching for something. Or, more likely judging by his outburst, someone. This ghost’s presence was such a typical one that barely anyone even batted an eye as he flew over their heads.

The certain red-head in question ducked below his desk. His heart pounded so loudly it threatened to break right out of his ribcage. Oh heck, he’d messed. Up. What exactly did he do, again? Too many things came to mind.

Suddenly a face popped down from above his desk.

“Remember that youtube video you were supposed to delete?” That sweet tone was simply a veil for the threat underneath.

Wes gulped.

[farmerlesbian]

Hi! Leather anon back again. I would absolutely love the shop list, Mod Alfalfa, if you have the time! Thank you all for helping out a (wannabe) leather dyke here, I probably won't have the time and money to really get into the subculture for at least another year but in the meantime... I can look!

Hi sorry finally getting around to this! Been busy!

First, I'll give the caveat that I have not purchased from any of these shops so can't vouch for them. One exception, I do have the Camryn harness from Switch Leather co. which I like and would recommend! I like that it's custom sized so I could get it with long enough adjustable straps so it can be cinched to fit both me and my partner, I also liked that it was relatively locally made by hand and is made with real leather so it'll wear nicely and last a long time if I care for it.

Okay let's get to the list of links! These are various styles and aesthetics, things they specialize in, materials, locations, price points, types of kink and bdsm. These are in no particular order at all. As I went through my bookmarks and saves I made sure to stay focused on leather shops specifically, so this list is not including models or influencers/popular people, publications like zines or blogs, photographers or artists, kink things of other adjacent varieties, sex toys, or other assorted things like that. Hard to limit it but I have to keep this list focused! Shop around see what you like. Reblog and add your recommendations or thoughts!

Switch Leather Co. / Instagram (I have the Camryn harness)

Nocturne Leather / Instagram

Riverqueer Leatherwork / Instagram

Fruit Leather Fetish / Instagram

Leather Coven / Instagram

Kolby Brianne / Instagram

Relena's Vegan Bondage / Instagram

Boundaries Leather / Etsy / Instagram

BDSFemme Leather Instagram

Little Death Leather Instagram / Kofi

Theirs + Theirs / Instagram

Emma Alamo / Instagram

Transform Leather Co. / Instagram

Daddy's Leather Shop / Instagram

Ocelotl's Trade / Instagram

Leather Archives Instagram - not a shop but nice to follow

Black Bone Co / Instagram

Ryce NYC / Instagram

Doghouse Leathers / Instagram / Craftingroom Instagram

Current Lace and Leather Instagram (I have a hanging plant holder! It's super cute)

Shop Tina Villa / Instagram

Lupine Leather Co. / Instagram

Yama Craft Space / Instagram

Fleet Ilya / Instagram

Toxic Vision / Instagram

Agate Leather / Instagram

Creepy Yeha / Instagram

Cassandra Von Creep / Instagram

Spill Adornment / Instagram

Peg n Pedal / Instagram - not leather, but repurposed bicycle tubes

Rodeoh / Instagram - not leather, but fabric harnesses

Leather Dyke Club / Instagram

Gnat / Instagram

Leonard Condemine Instagram

Church Leather Instagram

Love Lorn Lingerie / Instagram

Dewy thee occult Instagram - not seeing a way to purchase but felt worth including

Manmade Skins / Instagram

Naassene Leathers / Instagram

Cabbage Cottage / Instagram

Activest Project / Instagram - not leather, but polypro webbing straps

Devil's Remains / Instagram

Pansy Leatherwork / Instagram / @thyfleshc0nsumed

Also, all this said, don't be afraid to buy a hide or some vintage leather items and work with it yourself! You could get an old bag and rip the seams out and use the leather for something new, or find an old jacket and turn it into a vest and add spikes, or get a hide and have a collars and floggers making craft party with your friends!

[pb-dot]

Writeblr Introduction

Suppose I should introduce myself per the writeblr Very Friendly Suggestions. I'm PB, or peebs if you prefer. I publish my books under the pen name Victor S. Dale. I'm in my 30's, bisexual, dyspraxic, and as behooves a man of my standing I'm also grappling with considerable depression.

I like to write, like it a lot and I always have. My main WIPs are: a clockpunk love story titled The Clockwork Boy, a Lovecraftian Horror Romance titled His Impossible Brushstrokes and a 30s-punk portal fantasy serial titled Thereafter. I also dabble with smaller projects I won't get into here. Mostly coherent and concise synopses of The Clockwork Boy, His Impossible Brushstrokes, and Thereafter follow below.

The Clockwork Boy

My NaNoWriMo 2022 novel was initially conceived because I couldn't find much fun MLM genre fiction to read, so I decided to get myself good and wedged into that niche. The story follows Jake, who's stuck in a dead-end job of machining gears and sundry parts as well as lifting heavy things until a small, yet deceptively strong young man crashes into his life, and also his arms. The young man is called 13, his entire body from the neck down is made out of impossibly complex clockwork parts, and he's on the run from multiple powerful people and factions.

13 is stronger and faster than anyone has the right to be, but several broken parts hold him back. Jake is immediately smitten by the complex mechanics of 13's clockwork body, not to mention his sad, blue eyes, and so vows to help repair 13. The complexity of the task at hand is only increased by the two being pursued by local goon squads as well as other clockwork-bodied people with numbers for names.

The world of The Clockwork Boy and the Hearts In Clockwork series, provided I get around to writing more of these things, is languishing in a peculiar type of anarchy. The Age of Steam has come and gone and after a series of destructive colonial wars known as The Coal Wars, the power of government and nation has all but eroded. In their place, an alliance of powerful merchants and holders of capital keeps an iron grip on what passes for law from their seat in the massive tower known only as The Spire. Their power is exerted through monopoly and other economic maneuvers, but also by their rowdy Enforcers, who rule through intimidation and sheer brutishness.

13, as it turns out, is part of The Clockmen, a hitherto hidden faction within The Spire, whose acerbic leader is working to create an elite force of clockwork-powered individuals to overthrow The Spire and their enforcers, but even within the clockmen, agendas differ. 13 was originally made to fight and kill rogue clockmen, but so objected to this that he fled, searching for his memories and what freedom could be found.

Jake and 13 eventually find themselves under the auspices of The Northwest, an underground worker-owned coop parts workshop that takes them in and offers them succor in their time of need. In the relative safety of The Northwest's hidden workshop, Jake and 13 get the time they need to perform the sizable number of repairs needed, and perhaps ask the question of what they are becoming to each other and what comes next.

The current status of the project at the moment is going through the old rewrite and editing wringers. I'm currently having the thing beta read and I'll make whatever changes I need after that before attempting to hook an agent to help me get the thing published. In the meantime, I post about it a lot. If you want to be up-to-date on the most recent rambles in the setting, check out the tag list post here

My final goal with this project is to somehow get it published and, provided I am not met with immediate scorn and ridicule, get started on writing one or more sequels. I don't have the entire series planned out or anything, but I have several stories in this universe planned, and I know where and how I want it to end.

His Impossible Brushstrokes

My 2023 NaNoWriMo entry and current Lagrange point of my life. Continuing the trend from last year of writing novels that I wish someone else had written already so I could read it, Brushstrokes is a male-led queer horror with a mspec protagonist, exploring the shared points between love and fear, admiration and obsession, and art and madness.

The story follows Oscar Skerry, an obsessive San Fran art critic who goes to progressively more extreme measures to understand the works of his favorite artist, a pan-European enfant terrible by the name Tomasz Gildebrant. Gildebrant is an obscure artist, whose paintings nevertheless go for exorbitant prices on account of his cult appeal.

Following the thread of an art patron going berserk and attempting to destroy a Gildebrant painting by eating it, Tomasz unravels the urban legend of Gildebrant Psychosis. This sickness allegedly drives some who see a Gildebrant painting into acts of brutality, depravity, or the profoundly absurd, and Oscar starts to suspect there is something deeper and darker going on than repeated failures of the mental health system.

Seemingly out of the blue, Oscar gets an invitation to join Gildebrant in his home in the southern Carpathian Mountains. Eager to get to the bottom of things, and share his theories with Gildebrant, Oscar accepts.

Once there, two things become readily apparent. One, Gildebrant is incredibly charming, so much so that Oscar finds himself doubting that Gildebrant could be the man behind the dark, disturbing paintings he obsesses over. Two, there are way too many things not adding up, like how the doors to his guestroom in the Gildebrant household lock automatically at midnight, and how many pairs of shoes fill Gildebrant's hallway.

Per April 2024, the first draft for His Impossible Brushstrokes is complete. The plan remains to seek tradpub or indie publishing once I've edited the thing.

Thereafter

My first self-released project. The first chapters of Thereafter is slated to be released via buttondown starting May 1st 2024. This story follows Michael, a man in his 30s who traveled to, and saved, a magical cave-world populated by kindly molefolk at the tender age of twelve (and a half.) Now, 20 years later, Michael struggles in life and finds himself wishing for those simpler days of adventure again. Life is not without a sense of cruel irony, as the phenomenon that spirited him away all those years ago reoccur. Michael doesn't find himself in the serene caves of the molefolk, however, but in a desperately ramshackle city built from the flotsam and jetsam of thousands upon thousands of worlds.

This strange town goes by the name of Thereafter, and it was the surviving population of the cave world, as well as many other worlds, built with what they could salvage after The Calamity. Few who saw the world-destroying catastrophe lived to tell the tale, and the few who have, tell conflicting and surely nonsensical tales of it. Either way, the few that survived being flung into the void between worlds found their way to this nexus of the dispossessed, where the despair of dispossession percolated under the pressure of resource insecurity and a general sense of the world quite literally coming to an end.

To assuage some of these fears, The Council of Thereafter, a hastily assembled collection of wizards, wise men and the occasional cryptic hermit, decided to summon heroes of the old to their side. Due to the way time flows differently in the realms of magic, centuries and even millennia have passed since Michael saved the Molefolk, and the tales of his exploits have only grown in his absence.

Fortunately, Michael will not be alone in his task of portraying a heroic figure far beyond what he is able to actually be. Unfortunately, his colleagues in this endeavor are all messed up to an equal degree to him. Lex, the Polish enby scientist, is cynical on a level that borders on the parodic and worryingly horny. Felipe, the Mexican pro athlete archer, is arrogant, flighty and seems physically unable to take anything seriously. Finally, Alicia, the New York-based fitness influencer, seems restless in a way that either speaks to undiagnosed ADHD or truly world-shaking rage contained under the athletic facade.

Together, this rag-tag band of 30-somethings must unite in their quest to portray the heroes that history have made them, all the while grappling with what it means to be a hero in a desperately imperfect world. The city of Thereafter is full of crime born of desperation, hatred born of fear, and runaway magic, but that is not all. After all, the only thing anyone can agree on about the Calamity is that it is still out there and may one day turn its destruction upon Thereafter.

With Thereafter, I plan to work more with character and group dynamics than I have in my earlier works. The dysfunctional found family of the Heroes is supposed to be a big draw of the story, alongside the mystery of The Calamity and more pressing concerns about survival. As usual for a Peebs story, there will also be rumination, politics and philosophy involved, tigers don't usually change their stripes after all, but we're also getting a fantasy post-apocalyptic tale of love, bravery, and the many obscure pains of growing up.

Thereafter will, as mentioned above, be released on a chapter by chapter basis via Buttondown, with an archive also being kept on Cohost. To subscribe to the release of Thereafter chapters, please see the introductory post

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 20

summary: the mission, the safe house, the extracurriculars that follow.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: HAHAHAHA GUYS I fully did not intend for the story to go there today, but here we are. enjoy ;) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge @cjand10 @capswife

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

I padded out of the bathroom in my trusty pajamas, the soft cotton ones that I had packed specifically for "casual, inconspicuous, asexual lounging," as Natasha had put it. I ignored the barely-there lace set she’d somehow snuck into my suitcase when I wasn’t looking. Bucky was tossing a thin blanket onto the couch, trying to make it look suitable to sleep on. It looked about as comfortable as a slab of concrete, one of those pieces of furniture that’s clearly for fashion rather than function. Especially considering his size, there was no world in which he’d get a good nights’ sleep on that thing.

"Do you have something against comfort, Barnes?" I quipped as I leaned against the doorframe, watching him attempt to make the blanket fit across the length of the couch.

He glanced up, eyes flicking down over my pajamas, making me keenly aware of my lack of bra. "Just figured I’d be a gentleman, that’s all."

I crossed my arms, my eyebrow arching in amusement. "Come on, there’s a perfectly good bed here. And it's big enough for, like, three of me. Or two of you."

Bucky stood up, hesitating for a fraction of a second. "You sure? I’ve slept in worse ––"

"I’m sure. Besides," I continued, walking over to the king-sized bed and patting the mattress, "if one of us has a nightmare, the other can play the hero. You know, wake the other up before it gets too bad?"

"That’s... actually not a bad idea," Bucky conceded, though he still looked as if he were mentally measuring the distance between the couch and the bed.

The silence stretched for a moment before he finally picked up his pillow and made his way to the other side of the bed. "If you start stealing the blankets, though, I’m building a fort."

"I solemnly swear to keep my blanket thievery to a minimum," I said, my tone mockingly serious as I climbed into bed next to him.

We both settled under the covers, maintaining a respectful, almost comical distance between us. I lay on my side, facing away from Bucky, my eyes staring at the wall as if it might suddenly become interesting. All I could think about was the weight of his body on the mattress, pulling me towards him. The warmth of him. The way I could just roll over, touch him…

The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and our synchronized breathing. Every once in a while, I could hear Bucky shifting, as if he were also wrestling with the awkwardness of the situation. We’d agreed on a cool 66 degrees for the room, both of us embracing the likelihood that we’d wake up from a nightmare, panicked and sweaty. A cool room was a small comfort, an easy thing to agree on. At this moment, it served to keep us both from getting too warm in our full pajamas. My full length set had felt nice after a shower, but now, under the covers, it felt cumbersome. Like I was wearing too much clothing. I wondered if Bucky felt the same in his sweatpants and t-shirt. My normal sleep attire was a tank top and underwear, far less than I was currently wearing. What did he sleep in? A faded shirt and boxers? Boxers alone? I propped myself up on my elbows, reaching for the glass of water on my nightstand, clearing the thought from my head as my cheeks flushed. 

"Hey, Char?" His voice was soft in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"If this were an actual date, I'd have said some smooth line about how you like your eggs in the morning.”

I chuckled, the sound muffled by my pillow. "Lucky for you, we’re just two spies in a bed. No lines necessary."

The tension seemed to ease a bit, and slowly, the space between us felt less like a wall we couldn’t cross. As sleep eventually claimed us, it was in a quiet understanding that for the first time in weeks, we weren't going to be alone with our nightmares. 

And miraculously, neither of us had one. 

When morning light spilled into the room, gently pulling me from the depths of an unprecedented peaceful sleep, I realized something had shifted—not just in the bed (which they had, by the way. I’d never seen such a violent sleeper, covers kicked off of his legs and one pillow on the ground), but perhaps in the silent agreement that we were in this mess together. I rolled over to face Bucky, whose eyes were already open, a trace of a smile on his lips.

"Morning," he said, the word simple, but not without warmth.

"Morning," I replied, feeling a surprising flicker of something like anticipation for the day ahead. 

“Coffee?” his voice was gruff, tired. Sexy?

“Coffee.”

“I’ll call room service.”

“Suddenly I’m remembering why I married you.”

______

Under the blazing sun, Charlotte lounged in the cabana, her gaze fixed on the two men seated at a table by the poolside bar. The earpiece nestled in her ear crackled to life as Bucky's voice filled her senses. Today was the day that the sale was supposed to take place. Sure enough, their buyer and seller were exactly where they’d predicted. Bucky, not exactly able to lounge at the pool without exposing his metal arm and therefore, his identity, was watching from the roof of a nearby villa. High enough that no one would be able to see him, but close enough that he had a perfect view of Charlotte.

Charlotte in that thin, stringy black bikini. Charlotte, laying back against the chair, propped up in a way that had the muscles in her stomach taut. Charlotte, the one who’s heartbeat he’d fallen asleep listening to last night. He shook his head, pressing a hand to his earpiece.

"Alright, Char, what's the plan?" His tone was serious, willing himself to switch to mission mode.

Charlotte smirked, adjusting her sunglasses as she replied, "Just sit tight, Tin Man. I've got this under control."

Bucky huffed a laugh, the sound tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Just don't get…distracted," he narrowed his eyes as a particularly confident set of men in Speedos walked in front of her.

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte scanned the scene before her, noting the men's movements. "Something tells me I’m not their type," she flipped a page on the magazine she was pretending to read, eyes still locked on their targets.

As one of the men pulled out a thumb drive, Bucky's voice grew more urgent. "They've got the goods. What's the play, Char?"

Charlotte's eyes narrowed, her mind racing as she formulated a plan. "Let me work my magic," she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You got the camera ready?” 

“Yes…” His skepticism was evident, but he tugged the small drone from his backpack. Flipping it on, he felt it rise from his hand with a near-silent whir, soaring down to a vantage point above the pool. It was one of Stark’s newer inventions, equipped with the same stealth mode features as the Quinjets. Even in direct sunlight like today, it was completely invisible to the naked eye, making it perfect to transmit the video footage in real time. 

Bucky watched the scene below unfold. Both men leaned in over the table, clearly deep in conversation. One of them slid a small device, the zip drive, across the table. The other picked it up, examining it, before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a thick envelope. Rounding the edge of the pool, Charlotte padded barefoot across the patio. She’d tied a sheer scarf around her hips, doing little to hide the skimpy swimsuit beneath. A sorry excuse for a cover-up, but one he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. She approached the men with calculated confidence, her smile coy. Holding eye contact with the buyer for just a fraction longer than normal politeness, she strode right by them and up to the bar. Leaning her elbows on the surface, she stuck her hips out ever so slightly. Both men clocked it, heads turned towards her backside. 

She could feel their gazes like a physical touch, exactly as she'd intended. Keeping her expression casual, she signaled the bartender. “Mojito, please,” she requested, her voice a melodic purr that carried just enough to ensure the men behind her could hear.

The bartender nodded, setting to work. As he did, Charlotte cast a sidelong glance at the pool’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The buyer and seller were still staring, their conversation momentarily forgotten. Charlotte allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

“Put it on my tab.” A deep, mildly accented voice called from behind her. Bullseye.

When the bartender handed her the drink, Charlotte turned, making sure to force a blush into her cheeks “Oh, hi,” she said, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “You didn’t have to do that..”

The buyer—tall, with slicked-back hair and an expensive suit—smiled. “No problem at all,” he replied, eyes raking over her form, taking note of the absence of a ring on her left hand. The faux one she’d been given for the trip was sitting back on her nightstand. “Why don’t you join us? A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be alone.”

Charlotte’s smile widened. “Well, if you insist.” She slid into the empty seat, crossing her legs slowly. “What brings you gentlemen here?”

In her ear, Bucky’s voice crackled. “Careful Char,” he warned. She ignored him.

The men exchanged a glance. “Business,” the seller replied curtly. He was shorter, stockier, with a sharp look in his eyes that spoke of years spent dealing with shady transactions, things he didn’t speak freely about.

“Oh?” Charlotte arched an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. “What kind of business?”

The buyer leaned in, lowering his voice. “The kind that pays well. Really fucking well.”

Charlotte laughed softly, leaning onto her elbows in a way that pushed her chest forward. Neither of the men made an effort to pretend they weren’t looking. “Sounds like my lucky day.”

Bucky watched from his vantage point, his jaw clenched. Charlotte was playing her part perfectly, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. He adjusted the drone’s angle from his phone ever so slightly, ensuring he had a clear view of the table. As much as he wanted to see the show she was putting on, the point of the footage was to capture their faces, so he positioned the drone behind her.

Charlotte ran a finger along the rim of her glass, her gaze fixed on the zip drive that remained loosely held in the buyer’s left hand. “That looks vintage,” she remarked, nodding towards the watch on the same wrist. “Are you a collector?”

The buyer’s smile widened. “You could say that.” He set the zip drive down on the table, reaching over to tug up the sleeve on his left arm, holding it up for her to see. “1975 Rolex, custom made. Worth a fortune.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly, feigning interest. “Really? I’ve always been fascinated by watches. Mind if I take a closer look?”

The seller hadn’t taken his eyes off her chest since she’d leaned on the table, and the buyer, clearly taken with her, unfastened and handed it over. “Be careful with it, darling. It’s not something you come across every day.”

“Of course,” she marveled. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” A mischievous look in her eye that showed a bit more than innocence. Her fingers brushed against the buyer’s as she took the watch, the touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. She continued to ooh and ahh turning the watch over in her hands, asking questions she couldn’t give less of a shit about just to keep the men distracted.

Bucky’s grip on his phone tightened. The look in both men's eyes…he knew exactly what they wanted. Even if Charlotte was a professional, even if she could hand their asses to them with one arm tied behind her back, even if she was only his wife for the sake of the mission…it made his blood run hot. He willed her to work faster, to get out of there before one of them got handsy and made him do something he’d regret.

After twenty minutes that felt like an eternity, the buyer was fastening the watch back on his hand, the seller scrawling a phone number onto a cocktail napkin. Charlotte was cradling her chin in her hands, making doe eyes as she thanked them profusely for her drink. When the napkin was handed to her, she held it to her chest as she stood, blowing them a kiss before turning and striding away. She winked as she turned, her smile teasing. “Don’t miss me too much.”

 The men didn’t take their eyes off of her. 

Bucky swore, swiftly making his way back to the room.

As soon as she was out of sight, she quickened her pace, switching from the exaggerated swing of her hips to a brisk walk. 

“Buck,” She breathed, pressing a finger to her ear. 

“I’m here,” His answer was instantaneous. “Are you okay?”

“Meet me at the room,” She tried to keep the grin out of her voice. “Hurry!”

When she slid the keycard into the lock and pressed the door open, Bucky was already there, pacing. He stopped when he saw her, relief flooding his features. “Did you get it?”

“What, is it my first mission or something?” She slid her fingers into the triangle of fabric covering her left breast, tugging out a small black zip drive. Tossing it to him, Charlotte held up a thick envelope with a grin. “And a little something extra,” she said, tossing it onto the table with a thud. “But we’re not in the clear yet. They’ll notice soon enough.”

“Char,” He shook his head as if he wasn’t sure whether to scold or commend her for the envelope of cash she’d somehow snuck out without a single piece of fabric on her body large enough to cover it. Letting out a small chuckle, he tossed the drive back to her. “Then let’s get out of here.”

They gathered their things quickly, filling their small suitcases and –– in Charlotte’s case, changing into something a little less revealing. With a crochet sundress slipped over her bikini, she tucked the zip drive into her purse and held the door open. Bucky, one suitcase in each hand, strode right through.

“Nice work,” Bucky said, his voice low as they walked. “You handled that perfectly.”

Charlotte smirked. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you are. Now let’s get this back to Stark.”

“Wait,” She paused. “Give me ten minutes. Can you have the Quinjet on the roof of that villa by the pool?” 

“Char,” His tone was warning. 

“Ten minutes,” She was already walking away.

Bucky looked up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Where the hell are you going? We got what we came for.”

Charlotte held up a key card as she walked backwards. “This little beauty gives us access to Mr. Seller’s room. Who knows what other goodies we might find?”

“Charlotte, we can’t risk it. We need to get out of here now,” Bucky insisted, his voice tight with concern.

“Relax, Buck. I’ve got this. Just get the Quinjet ready and meet me on the roof in ten,” she waved him off, rounding the corner.

“Charlotte!” Bucky called after her, but she was gone, leaving him to swear under his breath. He had no choice but to follow her lead and hope she knew what the hell she was doing.

Charlotte moved through the resort with practiced ease, her heart pounding with adrenaline. She was thankful she put a dress on over the swimsuit, but admittedly could have opted for better shoes than the sandals she’d slid into. She slipped past other guests, too caught up in their own vacation to notice her at all. Sliding the key card into the lock, she felt a surge of triumph as the door clicked open. 

Inside, she quickly scanned the room, her eyes landing on a sleek laptop and a burner phone on the desk. She grabbed both, stuffing them into her bag. As she turned to leave, she heard the unmistakable sound of security personnel approaching, an angry male voice giving them a description. Brunette, around 5’7, nice tits, upper twenties. Well, they got almost all of it right. Her pulse quickened, and she ducked out of the room, making a swift exit.

The resort was now teeming with security, their radios crackling with alerts about a thief on the property. Charlotte moved swiftly, weaving through staff hallways and down the staircases, her senses on high alert. Her head was down, eyes concealed behind sunglasses as she tried her best to be stealthy in the world’s least conducive footwear.

“Hey, you!” A voice called out from behind her. She didn’t stop to see who it was. “Excuse me, ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.” 

Charlotte paused just long enough to turn around and give the approaching guard a bewildered look. She spoke in rapid French, her tone laced with confusion and a hint of panic. “Je suis désolée, je ne parle pas anglais! Je cherche ma chambre, où est la réception?”

The guard hesitated, thrown off by the sudden language barrier. He glanced around for backup, clearly unsure how to proceed. “Uh, ma’am, we just need to—”

“Merci, merci!” Charlotte interrupted, nodding vigorously before turning and continuing her hurried pace down the hallway. The guard, still unsure, didn’t pursue immediately, giving her the precious seconds she needed.

As she rounded another corner, she slipped into a staff-only hallway, ducking through a door that led to a service corridor. The walls were lined with cleaning supplies and utility carts, providing some cover as she moved. She could hear footsteps echoing behind her, growing closer.

Charlotte spotted a side exit leading to the outdoor pool area and darted through it, emerging into the bright sunlight. The sudden change in environment disoriented her pursuers momentarily, but she knew she had to keep moving.

“Ma’am, stop right there!” Another guard shouted, now joined by a second one. They were closing in.

Without missing a beat, Charlotte kicked off her sandals and broke into a full sprint, her bare feet slapping against the hot pavement. She zigzagged through the resort, dodging guests and weaving between loungers and pool chairs.

Her heart pounded as she approached the pool, diving over a low hedge and slipping through a narrow gap between two cabanas. She could hear the guards shouting, their frustration evident as they tried to keep up.

“Bucky, I need that Quinjet now!” she hissed into her comms, her voice low but urgent.

“On it,” Bucky replied, the hum of the Quinjet’s engines audible in the background.

Charlotte spotted the rooftop access door ahead, but so did the guards closing in on her. She raced up the final flight of stairs, her muscles burning with the effort.

Bursting through the rooftop door, she saw the Quinjet hovering just above, the hatch open and waiting for her. With a final burst of speed, she launched herself towards it, hands grasping the edge as she hauled herself inside.

Bucky reached out, pulling her up the rest of the way. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.

Charlotte grinned, breathless but exhilarated. “I was thinking we could use a little more intel. And look what I found,” she said, pulling the laptop and phone from her bag.

Bucky shook his head, his frustration evident. “You could have been caught. Or worse.”

“But I wasn’t,” Charlotte winked, her tone light. “You worry too much, Buck.”

“That’s because you don’t worry enough,” he shot back, his voice edged with concern. “One of these days, your luck is going to run out.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, breathless and grinning. “But not today.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As the Quinjet rose higher into the sky, Charlotte settled into her seat, her pulse finally starting to slow. She glanced over at Bucky, who was still fuming, his jaw set in a tight line.

“Hey,” she said softly, nudging his arm. “We did good today. And now we have even more to bring back to Stark.”

Bucky looked at her earnest smile, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah. We did.”

Charlotte leaned back, closing her eyes as the adrenaline began to fade. She knew Bucky was right—her risk-taking tendencies could be dangerous. But she also knew that without them, she sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten this far. It was a fine line to walk, but she was willing to walk it for the sake of the mission—and, if she was honest, for the thrill of it all.

The Quinjet sped across the sky to their rendezvous point, the cities below them all blurring together. It was just another day in their complicated, unconventional lives, but for Charlotte, it was a day well spent. And as she felt Bucky’s gaze linger on her, she knew that despite his frustration, he couldn’t deny the spark of excitement that her antics always seemed to ignite.

As they settled in for the rest of the flight, Bucky shot Charlotte a sideways glance, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You're something else, Char," he remarked, a wry smile betraying his stern tone.

Charlotte grinned back at him, her pulse still racing with the thrill of the chase. "Just trying to keep the spark alive.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. 

“In our marriage,” She winked. “Duh.” 

Bucky snorted, shaking his head. "If this is your idea of a marriage, I'm not sure I can handle the honeymoon."

Charlotte leaned closer, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, come on, you know you love it. Admit it, Barnes, you were on the edge of your seat watching me back there."

He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, on the edge of my seat ready to jump in and save your reckless ass."

"Please," she scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "I had everything under control. You worry too much."

Bucky's smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. "And you don't worry enough. You can't just keep pulling stunts like that, Char. One day, you might not be so lucky."

Charlotte's playful demeanor softened for a moment. "I know, Bucky. But a very wise tutor of mine once told me to know the plan, but never be afraid to pivot during battle. And besides," she added, her grin returning, "isn't that why you love working with me? Keeps you on your toes."

He shook his head, a reluctant chuckle escaping his lips. "A wise tutor, huh?"

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“I’ll do my best.” He shot her a sidelong look. “No more stunts like these, okay? I’m too old for this shit.”

She saluted him with a mock-serious expression. "Aye aye, Captain. No more near-death experiences...for today."

Bucky rolled his eyes again but couldn't suppress his grin. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here you are, stuck with me," she teased, leaning back in her seat.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Char. I don't want to have to explain to Nat why we lost her favorite agent."

Charlotte placed a hand over her heart in a mock pledge. "I solemnly swear to be as careful as my reckless nature allows."

Bucky shook his head, but his eyes were warm. "That's a start."

______

An hour into the flight back to the compound, they’d received an incoming call from Agent Hill. Apparently the notorious Midwestern spring storms were looming in their path, making the normally simple flight a little more treacherous.

Bucky rubbed his jaw as he leaned against the console of the Quinjet, exchanging an exasperated glance with Charlotte. "Maria, what do you mean we can't fly? We're in the sturdiest fucking aircraft there is."

Maria Hill's voice crackled over the comms, her tone firm but sympathetic. "I know, Barnes, but we've got some bad storms rolling directly through your path. It's not safe to be up there right now. You need to find somewhere to land and wait it out until the weather clears."

Charlotte crossed her arms, frustration evident in her voice. "Agent Hill, we have intel we need to get to you. We’re so close to being home, just another two hours ––"

"I understand, Charlotte," Maria interrupted, her tone firm. "But your safety comes first. You won't be any good to us if you end up caught in a storm or worse. We received the drone footage from Sergeant Barnes, any other intel can wait until you get back tomorrow"

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's right, Char. We can't risk it."

Charlotte shot him a defiant look. "Where the hell are we supposed to go? Where even are we?"

Natasha's voice cut in over the comms, her tone calm but authoritative. "You’re over Oklahoma. I’d recommend detouring south to avoid the storm cell, hiding out in our North Texas safe house. I’ll send over the coordinates."

Bucky exchanged a resigned glance with Charlotte before nodding. "Fine. It better not be one of the shitty old ones."

"It’s one of Stark’s old vacation homes," Maria replied. "I think you’ll find it…comfortable. Just be safe, both of you. We'll regroup once the weather clears."

With a heavy sigh, Bucky switched off the comms, the tension in the cockpit palpable. They were so close to being back home, but now they were grounded by forces beyond their control. As Bucky scanned the horizon, the storm clouds loomed ominously in the distance, making Charlotte’s stomach flop. She’d grown up in a cold, frigid climate. Summer storms and tornadoes still made her uneasy, especially combining an unfamiliar environment. 

But she wasn’t the captain, and they’d been given a direct order. Sighing, Charlotte leaned back in her seat, knowing there was no amount of insubordination that would get her out of this one. 

As the Quinjet touched down in the field next to the large safe house, Bucky and Charlotte stared out the windshield, both sighing deeply. The rain was coming down in sheets, making visibility near zero. They could barely see the house thirty yards in front of them. With a sense of resignation, they grabbed the bags, hurried out of the Quinjet and dashed towards the safety of the house. The rain soaked them through in a matter of seconds as they sprinted across the yard.

They stumbled up the porch steps, clumsy and slipping, as they reached for the door handle, their soaked clothes clinging to their skin. Bucky punched in the security code, and with a click, the door swung open. 

They practically tumbled inside, Bucky dropping both of their bags on the ground with a wet thunk. Water pooled at their feet as they stood in the entrance hall, dripping onto the undoubtedly expensive hardwood floor.

Charlotte let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through her sodden hair. "Well, this is…not how I saw today going."

Bucky scowled, raising an eyebrow at her. "Funny, I’ve thought that several times today."

“Don’t be a dick.” She rolled her eyes. 

As the rain continued to pour outside, Charlotte stood dripping on the rug, her soaked dress clinging to her curves, her hair plastered to her skin. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she tugged it over her head, revealing that damn black bikini underneath. Pulling it over her head, she paused, the soaked material knotted in her long, dark hair, already curling from the rain. She hesitated, glancing back at Bucky, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement as she attempted to tug the ends of her hair free.

"Good thing I’m wearing a swimsuit," she muttered, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Bucky watched her, momentarily stunned into silence by the sight before him. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, the way the rain droplets ran down her body, the way her muscles moved beneath her skin as she tangled with her hair. His heart raced in his chest, his blood burning in his veins.

"Let me help you with that," Bucky finally said, his voice low and husky as he stepped forward. Moving closer to Charlotte, he reached out to gently untangle the dress from her hair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder with a feather-light touch. 

Charlotte's breath caught in her throat as Bucky's touch sent a shiver down her spine. She met his gaze, her eyes locking with his in a silent exchange. He easily freed the dress, letting it drop to the floor. There was a palpable tension in the air, thick with things they’d repressed, fought against, lied to themselves about. Now, everything that had previously stood in their way was nowhere to be found. There was no mission, no teammates sharing a wall, no Sam to come interrupt them. 

In a way, it felt like they’d lost their safety net. Nothing stood between them and certain death. 

Nothing stood between them at all. 

"Thanks," Charlotte murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped back, the space between them suddenly feeling charged with electricity.

Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He felt his grip on himself loosening, slipping away. His fists clenched at his sides. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard, trying to remember any reason he shouldn’t do what his body was telling –– begging him to do. 

He felt her touch first. 

Her hands on his leather jacket. They gripped the lapels, pulling it back, down his arms. It dropped to the floor. 

Her hands found the hem of his t-shirt, slid beneath it. His skin burned under her touch, where she brushed his stomach as she lifted the shirt. Raising his arms, their eyes locked as she reached up to pull it over his head. His hair was soaked, a few loose strands plastered to his face. Giving in to her temptation, she ran her hands down his body. Her fingers trailed over his collarbone, over the ridge where his arm met his shoulder, over his chest and the muscles that rippled across his abdomen. She let her eyes roam over him unapologetically, drinking up every muscle, every scar, every glint of his arm in the low light. When she looked back up to meet his gaze, she almost didn’t recognize the man staring down at her.

There was a wild look in his eye that made Charlotte forget who she was, who he was. It burned into her, making her feel naked in ways far beyond just clothing. 

Without breaking eye contact, he kicked off his boots. His hands went to his belt, unfastening it, unbuttoning his jeans, lowering the zipper. He paused, seeming to come back to himself for a moment. They stood there, still soaking wet, in the entryway. Rain pounded against the roof, wind howling outside. Charlotte was in a black bikini, Bucky in unbuttoned jeans. Both of them showing more skin to the other than they’d ever dared. 

A moment passed between them. Shallow breathing. Hungry eyes. Thunderous heartbeats. 

Slowly, tortuously, Charlotte reached up and brushed her wet hair to one side. Her eyes remained locked on Bucky as she tugged on one string of her bikini top. The knot on the back of her neck instantly unraveled, the top falling down to her stomach, revealing her bare chest to him. His breath caught in his throat, his pants feeling tighter. She reached her hands down to the second knot, tugging on it before letting the whole swimsuit top join the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed, unable to formulate another thought. 

Charlotte took a step towards him, closing the gap between them. She looked up at him, cocking her head ever so slightly. “Is that an offer?” 

Whatever leash he’d had on his restraint snapped. 

Bucky reached out, his hand cupping Charlotte's cheek as he leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from hers. His heart hammered in his chest, every nerve in his body on edge with anticipation.

Charlotte's breath caught in her throat as she felt Bucky's touch, his warmth seeping into her skin and setting her ablaze. She met his gaze, her eyes dark with longing, silently urging him to take the next step.

And then, in a heartbeat, it happened. Bucky closed the final distance between them, his lips crashing into hers. It was hard and ravenous and impatient and greedy. His hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, tangling in her wet hair. His other hand found her waist, gripping her hard with cold metal fingers. Her arms wrapped around his torso, trailing down his back. She dug her nails in ever-so-slightly, eliciting a low moan from him, devoured by their kiss. 

The kiss was a mess of wet skin and lust, it was sloppy and desperate. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection between them, the raw intensity of their desire igniting like a wildfire. It was a kiss of longing and longing, a silent confession of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

A big fuck you to every single time they’d repressed their feelings, every single time they’d fought the urge to cross this line in the sand.

Charlotte’s hands slipped into his waistband, tugging his soaked jeans down over his hips. Bucky stepped out of them, leading Charlotte backwards without breaking the kiss. They stepped backwards through the dark entryway, dripping water across the floor. Charlotte’s hands gripped either side of his face as she followed his lead, one of his hands on her lower back, the other outstretched behind her. With a thud, his hand collided with a wall, immediately backing her against it. Their bare chests collided, skin sticky from the rain and warm with desire. 

In one movement, both of Charlotte’s hands were pinned above her head in a vibranium grip. Bucky angled his head, reaching up to cup her jaw as he slid his tongue along her lower lip. A whimper, a whine escaped her lips, only serving to ignite him further. Sliding a knee between her thighs, Charlotte nearly gasped at the sensation. She writhed against his thigh, chasing this strange and euphoric feeling as he rubbed against her. His hand dropped from her jaw, trailing down her neck, across her breasts, down her stomach. It reached around behind her and slid into her bikini bottoms, squeezing her ass so tightly she sucked in a breath. She’d never felt this good, felt this needy, this desperate. 

She’d never done this before. 

Her heart thudded in her chest as Bucky released her hands, bringing both of his down underneath her, lifting her up until her back was against the wall and her legs were wrapped around him. She locked her ankles behind his back, pulling his hips even closer to hers. He was rock hard, pressing against the spot threatening to ignite her whole body. Wiggling her hips, she ground herself into him.

“Oh, God ––” He closed his eyes, throwing his head back as her hips pressed against him. 

When he brought his head back down, he pressed his forehead to Charlotte’s, both of their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Hearts pounded, chests heaved. For a moment they stayed, pinned against the wall, holding each other. 

“Char,” He groaned. 

“Mmm,” The noise she made was somewhere between a reply and a moan as she ran her hands through his hair. 

“Do you want this?” 

She paused, hands freezing on his neck. 

Hell yes, fuck yes, she absolutely wanted this. This sensation, this feeling, everything that was just happening. She wanted it to never, ever end. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to give herself to him, let this aggressive and demanding version of James Buchanan Barnes take as much of her as he needed. 

“Buck…” She breathed, closing her eyes. 

“Hey,” He slowly lowered her to the ground, ensuring she was steady on her feet before reaching up to cup her cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong? We don’t have to do this, we don’t ––”

“No,” She met his gaze, eyes determined. “I want this. I want…this.” Rising onto her tiptoes, she gripped the back of his head, bringing his lips to hers in a slow, wet, deep kiss. They slowly separated, Charlotte dropping back down to her normal height. “I want it all…so badly. I just,” She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. “I don’t know how.” 

A moment of silence passed between them. 

“You don’t know how…” He spoke the words slowly, as if he was trying to figure out what they mean. 

“I mean, I never have.” Her eyes met his, willing, begging him to understand. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Oh,” Bucky's gaze softened as he realized what Charlotte was trying to tell him. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. "Oh." he repeated, his voice filled with understanding. 

"Charlotte, that's nothing to be ashamed of." He paused, searching her eyes for any sign of discomfort. "It's okay. We don't have to rush into anything. We can take our time." His hands slid down the backs of her arms, gently, softly.

Charlotte's eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and she tangled her fingers in his own as they reached down her arms. "What if I don’t want to take my time," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. 

“Char…”

"Bucky.” She squeezed his hands. “I want this. I want to do this. I want to learn. With you. I trust you."

Bucky's heart swelled, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll teach you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin. "We'll go slow. I'll show you everything, and if you ever want to stop, you just tell me, okay?"

She nodded, her insides throbbing at his gentleness. Bucky lifted her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. "We'll start with the basics," he said, his voice steady and comforting. "We'll go at your pace."

“Can we skip the basics and go back to where we just were?” She pleaded, bringing his hands up to her breasts. A groan escaped his lips as he squeezed, ever-so-gently. His thumbs grazed her nipples before trailing back down to her hips. 

“If you want me to teach you…you have to let me start from the beginning.” A devilish grin.

He leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in a slow, tender kiss. This time, there was no rush, no urgency. It was a kiss filled with promise and patience, a kiss that told her he was in no hurry and that he valued her comfort above all else.

Charlotte melted into the kiss, her hands slowly finding their way to his shoulders. She felt the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart against her chest. It was a feeling of safety, of being cherished.

Bucky's hands moved gently, exploring the curves of her body with a reverence that made her feel beautiful and desired and fuck, so impatient. He took his time, tantalizing her. As his hands caressed her back, her sides, and finally the soft skin of her belly, Charlotte felt like she was going to boil over.

When he finally broke the kiss, she was breathless but smiling. "How was that?" Bucky asked softly, his forehead resting against hers.

"Perfect," Charlotte whispered, her voice strained. "But can we get to the next part, please."

He smirked, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her jaw. "What’s the rush, Char?"

She groaned, leaning her head back. “You’re killing me, Buck,” 

“Am I?” He cocked his head in a way she’d never seen, mouth slightly agape. His hand trailed down her stomach, slid between her legs, making her bite her lip so hard it nearly split. Metal fingers slid the band of black fabric to the side, making a long, leisurely swipe through her. A truly pathetic whimper escaped her lips as he pulled his hand back up, examining his fingers in the dim lighting. His gaze darkened as he looked her dead in the eye, bringing his fingers to his lips and slowly sucking the first two.

“Bucky,” Charlotte whined. “Please.” 

Bucky's grin widened, and he took her hand. “For the next part,” He led her towards a long hallway. “I think we’ll need a bed.” 

[sincerely-sofie]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Ohhh man. I’ve got so many projects that I want to make but haven’t because I view my current skill set as lacking— and they’re almost always drawing related, because I’m very insecure about my drawing skills— even moreso than my writing skills. To go on a tangent and paint a picture of how severe this visual art insecurity is, I will list off how many people I have directly permitted to read my major written pieces once I passed my mid-teens:

My older sister, because she was my co-writer for the project and not letting her read my work wasn’t an option

My mother on one occasion

My aunt, who has experience with writing and publishing, and I have only ever sent two pieces to

Look at that number of people. The number of pieces I shared with them, in total, was four out of the hundreds of projects I’ve made over the years. I was so precious about my writing because I’m insecure about it. I’m even more insecure about my art. I couldn’t list off all the drawing projects I hesitate to make because I think it’s impossible with my current skill level, not even in a thousand years, but I’ll give a few examples that are always in the back of my mind lately.

A semi-animated pilot to a fantasy-comedy cartoon parodying The Office, starring a goblin secretary who’s trying to assassinate her employer and take over as the final boss of an RPG-esque dungeon that operates like an office building, while her employer is a lich who misinterprets all her efforts to kill him as her being flirty, leading him to develop a very severe crush on the goblin. The project is titled “Boss Fight”, and I have all the resources I need to make it, but I drag my feet because of my art insecurity… also I would be doing all the voice acting myself, and I don’t find my voice very appealing even when I change it to fit different characters.

A webcomic about a fantasy world populated by bipedal bug people that features a very brief “save the world” plot, then focuses the rest of the storyline on how the characters recover from the events of their backstories and the trauma the experienced while saving the world. It’s titled “The Creeping Chronicles”, and I love the project but am so insecure about being able to do the story justice with my art skills that I’ve tentatively pivoted to making it a book series instead. It’s got 21k+ words across 10-ish chapters because I’m too insecure about my art to draw it fully.

A slice of life comic titled “Welcome to Wayside” that’s basically Gravity Falls meets Stardew Valley where a young girl saves a cryptid’s life and now he’s stuck helping her until he repays the life debt he owes. The story features a vaguely men in black-style evil secret agency called G.L.O.O.M. (Gents for Ludicrous Oddity Organization and Management) who have various ranks are named after facets of fashion (khakis are their grunt labor and pocket squares are researchers) and they use a threat-ranking system based on dress codes (i.e. “WE HAVE A BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET, REPEAT: BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET”), and I adored G.L.O.O.M. along with the cast of characters featured in the story, but I don’t feel confident in my ability to design interesting-looking original cryptids.

I could leave this post at that, but I’ve got an important thing to say on this subject—

If you want to make something but are hesitating to because your skill levels are lackluster, make it anyways.

Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever can. Let yourself make the thing, and let yourself make the thing badly. Love it and how ugly it is. The perspective is all askew in this part, and that character is horribly off model there, and isn’t it all amazing? You made that! You made a thing! And you wouldn’t have this thing that you made if you waited until the conditions were perfect to make it and refused to create the thing before your skills were sufficient.

There’s this terrible thing about creative projects— one that is very noticeable in drawing projects especially, in my experience. As your artistic skills develop, your artistic vision also develops to become more and more detailed and masterful… and it’s always going to be outside of your grasp. If you wait until you’re ready to make the thing, you will never make the thing, because you’ll never feel ready no matter how much you build your skills. But if you make the thing before you feel totally prepared, you’ll learn and grow artistically as well as personally, and will be able to feel more confident in future thing-making efforts.