#i think its that you cant get easy results quickly like you can with art

[heliopixels]

Sometimes I remember that I have a guitar laying unused in the corner of my room

[baconpal]

Bravely Default and BD2

Here it is, the partially prompted bravely default rant/retrospective/whatever the fuck!

With the announcement and demo of bravely default 2 out now for a bigger market than the original game ever had, I feel that as a massive fan of the original I should put some amount of effort into explaining what the appeal of the original is, why bravely second missed a lot of the appeal, and why bravely default 2 has been very, very worrying so far.

If you care about any of that, come on in and I'll try to actually avoid spoilers this time and make this a more legitimate recommendation of a game than usual.

THE APPEAL OF BRAVELY DEFAULT The games obviously have a beautiful art style, especially when it comes to the backgrounds. Every city is like a painting, a beautifully composed shot that you see from just one direction to give you one very strong impression. While the overworld and dungeons are fully 3d and do not have as strong of an artistic impact, they are still very competent and have good colors and cohesive elements. The character design, including the job outfits, the monsters, and all the villains are just top notch. Simple, evocative designs that make the most of the 3DS' limited hardware and build upon the teams skill in making handheld games look good. (its the same team that did the ff3 remake and 4 heroes of light, which looks absolutely kino on original DS) The music is also consistently excellent, with great use of motifing, a full and varied orchestra, and many good slow paced tracks for most of the non-combat segments. Shit like "Conflict's Chime" being the main battle theme, "Infiltrating Hostile Territory" being a common dungeon theme, and "That person's name is" as the rival boss themes makes even the seemingly repetitive songs a constant joy to listen to.

The story is pretty decent, it's not the best part of the game, and there are definitely some aspects of the story some people loathe, but the characters (specifically ringabel fuckin love him) are pretty good and the make for an enjoyable experience. The side material like D's journal are really well done and integrate into the main narrative well for how tucked away and ignored it is.

The gameplay and systems are also some of the best of any RPG I've played, and I've played far too many. The job system from ff3 and 5 is brought to an even greater depth with the addition of universal job abilities, allowing any character of any job make use of another jobs features to create an endless depth to strategy. The way various jobs can mingle together, and how no job is completely perfect on its own makes for very compelling team composition and unit design. The extensive amount of jobs helps as well for replay value and for assuring that no easy winning strategy is found by all players.

The BP system makes battles take on a very unique pacing as the player and enemies can choose to save up turns or blow them all at once to make more complicated strategies possible, or to make the most of an enemies vulnerabilities. This powerful option gives the player a meaningful way to capitalize on their knowledge of the game, while also allowing them to make truly detrimental mistakes. That may sound not good if you're a fucking baby, but nobody wants an RPG you cant lose, but losing because you fucked up is much better than losing because the enemies are just stronger than you or anything to that effect.

But the single greatest part of bravely defaults, which creates the games wonderful balance and unique design philosophy, is that the player is expected to hit the level cap long before finishing the game. Reaching level 99 should occur somewhere just after the middle of the game, at the point where the player has access to almost every job and has encountered almost every type of threat. Reaching level 99 brings with it a certain security, the implication that from then on, all enemies will also be level 99, and that any failure to defeat an enemy will be a result of a bad strategy or the players own mistakes. The game is not easy, and is certainly intended for veteran final fantasy players used to the games with job systems and changing up your entire party to combat a single encounter. Leveling up is not a slow grind part of the game, as you have a lot of control over the speed and frequency of battles, and it is not difficult to keep up with the games level curve.

The other layer to this unique design is that the game expects you to "cheat", or use strategies that would be overpowered and frowned upon in most other games. Bravely default easily expects you to know or discover strategies such as: applying a status to all enemies and killing every enemy with that status using another spell, cycling a counter move over and over to have a nearly invincible party member, applying a healing attribute to a self-damaging character to get huge damage at little cost, casting reflect and dangerous spells on your own party to bounce them at the enemy, or duplicating a move that does maximum damage 15 times in a row. The game builds all of its encounters with the knowledge that your team will be the maximum level and that you will be using the most vile tactics you can come up with, and the game will do the same. Bosses and even common enemies will employ equally vile tactics using the exact same moves that you have access to, meaning you can learn from your enemies or quickly grasp the enemies strategy through your own experiences. One of the late game dungeons is entirely optional, but involves several fights against parties of 4 just like your, using the same jobs and skills you have gained during the game as a perfect test of your ability to develop counter-strategies, instead of relying on your own overpowered tactics. This type of design is really not something you find in many games due to the prominence of grinding or the lack testing strategies, and it is the most true appeal of bravely default to me.

BRAVELY SECOND EXISTS I GUESS So bravely second, a direct sequel to bravely default, definitely is a video game. It uses the original game as a base to generate more content, but completely misses the appeal of the original, and the new content added makes the experience even less focused. Overall, it's still a fairly alright RPG, but it fails to follow up on bravely default in a meaningful way or to provide as compelling of a gameplay experience. Here's some of the things it fucked up.

The game reuses almost everything the original game had, including the same music, world map, and most of the original's towns and dungeons, while adding a few of it's own. Going through areas you've been before never feels good, and the new areas lack the quality or brevity of the original game, leading to uninteresting areas that overstay their welcome, despite being the only break from repetitively reused content.

This extends to the classes but in an even worse sense. One important trait of the original jobs is that they were not perfect by themselves. While every job provided some useful abilities to be shared with other classes, or provided a good base with which to make a character, no class was without flaws. The new classes in bravely second are a lot of the opposite, they are closed loops that think of everything they could have to make a good standalone character. The 4 starter classes you get in bravely second are all brand new, and there's almost no reason to use any class besides those 4 as they are just insanely good. The priest and magician specifically augment magic in a way that makes spells infinity scalable into the end game, completely trampling on any other magic classes territory without needing the extra effort of grinding a new class out. Many of the new job concepts are actually really interesting, like going back in time to return to a healthier state, or a class that changes the stats and attributes of all units in a battle, allowing for all new kinds of strategies; but these classes lack any opportunity to be used to their full potential since they don't mesh well with other jobs and are limited by their self-centered design.

Another completely missed aspect of the original is the level curve discussed before. Bravely second only really requires you get somewhere in the ballpark of level 60-70 to comfortably beat the final boss, and getting too leveled up is really hard to avoid if you are plan to try out various jobs.

Second also fails to account for how many incredibly strong strategies the player can come up with, and even introduces some of its own strategies that it has no way to counteract, such as halfsies (the first skill the first class gets) pretty much splitting the game in two by tripling the value of items like phoenix downs, and allowing for fool-proof strategies by making 1 character focus entirely on defense, effectively making the party unkillable. Essentially, if you play second after having played the original (like any sane person would) then you will absolutely destroy the game with no sense of satisfaction.

The story is also a large step down, enough to become an annoyance, as the writing style changes to a strange romantic comedy situation with, for lack of a better term please forgive my sin, anime writing, but like bad anime writing, ya know the kind of shit that makes people write off all anime cus a lot of it is awkward and unpleasant to listen to. The story tries to mess with some big concepts like "what if new game + was a real thing???" and time travel and shit like that but it doesn't mesh with the tone the rest of the game has and that tone doesn't mesh with the world or art style and it's just a mess.

BRAVELY DEFAULT 2 SEEMS KINDA POOPIE SO FAR So unfortunately, the big appeal of bravely default being part of it's end game makes it hard to judge how 2 is gonna go given we only have a demo of the beginning, but given that the original team behind bravely default has slowly been stripped out of the series as it goes on, the outlook is bleek.

Most immediately obvious is that the artstyle has made a horrible transition from handheld to console, somehow even worse than pokemon. The areas are all fully 3d and lack the style or compositional excellence of bravely default, and the outside environment look like asset store products. The small proportioned characters with simple features to be readable on a small screen have been replaced with identically proportioned characters with excessive detail and ugly features, and look horrible up close on a big screen. Only the negatives of the art style have made it over, and everything good has been made unsavory. The character and enemy design overall is much worse as a result, everything is messy, unclear, and clashes with everything else. It's an absolutely shocking downgrade.

The characters themselves are overly hammy and feel like shallow attempts to have a similar party dynamic to the original without having identical character types, and the writing as a whole doesn't seem to have improved from second, which was already quite a step down from the original.

The gameplay also has not done anything different or interesting yet, and seems to be selling itself to people haven't heard of or gotten enough of the BP system. Enemies being on the overworld as opposed to random encounters shows they have dropped the player agency over encounter frequency, which is dumb. The battles lack any of the flow the original had, especially when using the battle speed option, as the camera does not present everything very well and changes position often as a result. Overall, I have not enjoyed the bravely default 2 demo and feel it shows nothing but a continued decline in the series that likely should have just been a single game. With the release date being set for sometime this year, I feel there is no chance any amount of player feedback could save the game or even begin to pull it in the right direction, as it seems to be fundamentally flawed with an inescapable feeling of shovelware.

SO WHAT? Basically, all I wanted to say here is that the original bravely default is a very unique experience I think every RPG fan should give a good chance (and just do all the optional stuff during the "repetitive" part of the game, it's where all the best content is you bozo) and that the sequels are NOT the same experience. I guess it's kind of mean to just say "hey don't buy or like this new thing cus its not like the old thing" but people should know why there's a bravely default 2 in the first place, and should fight for what made the original great. I worry that BD goes down the same sad path that FF did, becoming a completely hollow, middling series that strayed so far from it's home that a whole new series had to be made to give the fans of the old style a place to go.

Thanks for reading, and hope you got something out of it.

[nikolestilinski24-blog]

Magic

Day 2 of Stetopher Week.

Oct. 25th 2018-Magic

Notes: Based off amazing art by hashtag-hale, so please go and look at their amazing work. (To hashtag-hale: again thank you for letting me use your art and I hope I did it justice!)  

Summary: What happens when Stiles finds out that his dreams mean much more than what he had originally thought?

Stiles had been having the same dream for the past week. All with the same results, waking Derek up because of a dizzy spell that always ended up making Stiles throw up and feel even more exhausted than he felt when he first went to sleep.

It was so bad now that they had placed a bucket right by his side of the bed, for easy puking access.

“Babe, easy. Stiles I think that it’s time that we go see Deaton.” Derek told his boyfriend rubbing his back up and down soothingly.

---

“Here sip this, slowly.” Deaton told Stiles handing him a cup of warm tea that Stiles could tell was more than simple tea. “I added a little something extra to help with the fatigue and dizziness. Now tell me again about this dream and don't leave any details out. Including how it feels.” Deaton continued.

“How it feels? What do you mean? Like how it feels for him to be in the dream?” Derek asked concern for his mate.

“In a way, yes, Mr. Hale.” Deaton evaded.

“But.” Stiles egged on Deaton to continue.

“I want to know what your dream self feels while in the dream. How you feel after you wake up.” Deaton tried to explain better without giving too much away.

“So the dream starts out with my dream self in the woods, though at first glance I thought that it was the preserve but it isn’t, I can sense that its not, somehow.” Stiles shook his head in confusion and bewilderment looking between his mate and the vet, before continuing on.

“I'm walking trying to find something, i'm not sure what, maybe something familiar to my dream self. When I can feel myself notice that I am shirtless. The only things that are on the top half of my body is a weird leafed band around my head and a metal one around my bicep.” Stiles explains.

“Wait is it a band that goes all around your head or only halfway? What kind of leaves? Are they small ones or large ones?” Deaton left and came back just as quickly bearing four different leaves. “Are one of these the one around your head.” Deaton asked waiting for Stiles to answer.

“Uh, yeah so it went about half way around my head, I guess more like a crown than a band. They were on the smaller side and I believe looked like this one the most.” Stiles answered each question in order pointing at one of the leaves Deaton had brought out.

“This one the bay laurel leaf? Are you sure Mr. Stilinski?” Deaton asked in a way that it seemed extremely important that Stiles choose the right leaf. Though he didn't really know why it was so important.

“Um, yeah? Yes!” Stiles said nervously “I mean yes this is the right one.” He answered surer than before that that leaf was the correct one, before setting his now empty tea cup down on the side of where he sat.

“Interesting. Please continue.” Deaton moved the other leaves to another counter and motioned for Stiles to keep going, taking a seat on his stool.

Stiles and Derek knew that they would not get any more information than that.

“So the band is around my left bicep and its a silver metal band that goes around my arm three times and the tips are bent into triangles. Three of them on each tip, to be exact.” Stiles stops to wait to see if Deaton will ask him questions or comments. With none asked Stiles continues yet again. “I go on to move forward through the woods, something unknown leading me somewhere. When suddenly I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I look down again after feeling a jolt to my hands and see a blue orb being held in both my hands together. The size of a baseball. But it feels natural to me or rather my dream self to be wielding this foreign magic.”

Stiles stops seeing Deaton caressing his face in a ‘Hmm, Interesting.’ manner that both Stiles and Derek know all to well.

He looks off to Derek and with his encouragement he starts again. “I, uh, I continue on after feeling no threat and soon find myself coming across this beautiful brooke with a small waterfall towards the back. The whole thing is encased with three to four inches of moss covered rocks set all around the body of water. I find my dream self leaning down towards the water, orb now long gone,resting my right forearm on one of the rocks to lightly dip my fingers into the water. Slowly the water licks up my fingers and up my arm growing moss along my pinky around my thumb and by my wrist with a baby sprouted mushroom, growing from my skin. Soon after I hear something that I instinctively know is dangerous a snorting sound of sorts, so I start to rise up while looking around for it. That is always when I wake up feeling dizzy and exhausted.” Stiles finishes.

“Not to mention after he wakes up he immediately throws up.” Derek adds looking over to Deaton.

Deaton still has a look to him that neither Stiles or Derek can decipher.

“How do you feel after you wake up about the dream anyway?” Deaton asks.

“Uh I guess after the initial puking, dizziness, and tired feeling I feel confused as to what it all means, and then I feel worry, dread for the people that might get hurt by the absent figure that my dream self could feel looming dangerously in the woods out of sight.” Stiles said, to which he noticed that Derek seemed shocked at this new news.

“I see. Well I have good news. I think I know what is troubling your dreams, however, I feel that it is not anything to worry about, I’m sure.” Deaton said going into his office again and coming back out with a small leather pouch that was pulled closed. “For now I want you to take a spoon full of this before going to sleep for the next two to three days.”

“What is it?” Stiles asked, more out of curiosity than a need to know.

“A concoction that I made with the intention of it relaxing your body enough for you to finish what your dreams are wanting to take you.” Deaton said always ever so cryptic.

Derek didn't miss the way that Deaton said ‘dreams’, like he detested the word or that some reason the word dream didn't quite cover what was in fact happening to Stiles.

It was a lie through and through. Derek didn't even need to stop to listen to the man's heartbeat to know that he was not telling the whole truth. Derek, as well as Stiles, knew however that no matter the probing Deaton would never cause harm to either of them. Nor would he tell them more than he deemed necessary.

Stiles and Derek were heading out to the camaro. Derek had just stepped out into the sunlight fully over the threshold, and Stiles was quick to follow him. The only problem was that when he crossed the door frame to the outside he ended up in the woods that had been plaguing his dreams for the past week.

It was exactly like his dream. It started the same and finished the same way except that after he starts to look around for the potential danger he doesnt wake up puking or dizzy or even exhausted. No this time he continues to look around until he hears someone calling out his name.

“Master Stiles. Where have you been your husbands have been looking for you for hours.” Liam, who isn't really his time period’s (or is it place?) Liam says. This Liam is somehow different he just cant put his finger on it.

“Uh yes. I was out….uh searching….for…” Stiles starts unsure on what to say.

Luckily Liam interjects. “I know searching for the demon. But Master they would be very upset if their King was to get killed.” Liam said ushering Stiles through the woods towards the woods that Stiles hadn't been through yet.

“Right. Wait. What?” Stiles asked. He was now very confused. Husbands? Who was this King and how was Stiles connected? Why was Liam calling him Master?

This was so very strange.

“Shall we get on with it Master Stiles and meet your husbands?” Liam continued.

Stiles was not sure what was happening, but didn't want to give away that he was not who this Liam thought him to be, nodded his head and started to follow Liam.

They soon came upon a large meadow that Stiles saw was not empty. Peter Hale (his mate in his real worlds uncle) and Chris Argent (who had left when his daughter died) were close together holding hands and talking, both seemed to be very worried. That is until they caught sight of Stiles.

“There you are…”

“Heavens we were worried about you..”

The two both spoke, coming rushing up to him stepping up short giving Stiles a look before looking to Liam and smiling.

“I see..” Peter said out loud, Chris nodding along. “Well my love did…” Peter continued to speak but Stiles stopped listening when he got that feeling on the back of his neck again. A sign that something dangerous was approaching. “Stiles….Stiles….STILES!!!” Peter yelled out finally getting the boys attention before a flash and a pull.

Stiles found himself back in his world. The only exception was that he was in his old bedroom and not at the vet's office. His bedroom at his father’s house, it was now ice cold, so cold in fact that Stiles could see his breath.

Stiles looked down seeing that he was once again in his plain white tee and blue and white plaid long sleeve shirt, and back to his left hand noticing that his palm and wrist was now glowing a faint neon blue. But before he could dwell on it to much he was back in the clearing with Chris and Peter in front of him again.

What the hell was happening to him?

Stiles could still see the glow to his palm and wrist still there. With a warning he turned around to face the way that he and Liam had just came from.

“Get ready!”

What Stiles wasn't prepared for was the creature that came out of the woods. The beast was half male half horse except that the human half was only the torso, no head, no legs. The horse was that of a skinned horse. The entire thing was shrouded in red and reeked of death and decay. Stiles noticed that wherever and whatever it touched turned rotten, including the ground.

It was slow moving but still increasing distance faster than anyone of them would have liked.

Stiles saw something move out the side of his right eye. He turned to look and saw Liam transforming into a large three foot black house cat with the exception that he had even sharper teeth and claws then that of a domestic cat in Stiles world. Which was shocking to him, considering in his world Scott had turned Liam into a werewolf. It was a relief to see that both Chris and Peter were the same. Chris pulled out a semi-automatic and Peter switched forms to his beta form.

Liam went forward first, but as soon as he got six feet in front of the damn thing the creature breathed out threw the horse’s muzzle a red smoke or fog that had Liam falling to the ground in writhing pain. Ultimately causing Liam to turn back human.

Stiles subconsciously knew that this was what it was all leading up to, the reason why he was in this strange place. To help defeat this thing.

Stiles could still feel that he had control of his Spark magic, but underlined was the hint of this Stiles unfamiliar magic.

The red headless creature started to pick up his pace to an odd gallup and that is when Stiles could feel their magic flair together. Waving out his right arm, though looking at it as if it was someone else controlling his body their magic collided and out came the form of a huge set of blue, almost angel like, wings. It caught stiles by surprise but he was fast to catch on. He flung both arms to the front of him aiming for the creature.

What happened next was surprisingly anticlimactic and bordered on disappointing, at least in Stiles opinion.

The wings of magic rushed into the creature’s form and it evaporated in a purple cloud of dust.

“Well okay then. Haha!” Stiles shouted out in celebrating for defeating the smelly creepy thing. Before noticing that Peter and Chris were moving towards Liam. “Oh shit. Right got to fix Liam, got to fix Liam.” Stiles muttered rushing to Liam’s side.

He brought out one of his hands placing it on the ground, bringing forward the best in nature and earth feeling the power deep in this odd combination of whatever magic this Stiles held and his spark magic. Stiles placed his other hand on Liam and pushed gently towards his heart to flush out the evil and disease that the creature breathed into him and cleansed Liam back to life.

Slowly Stiles opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see all sorts of animals, creatures large and small, come out of the woods now feeling safe again. Along with his three comrades who he saw kneeling down in his direction.

“All Hail King Stiles Stilinski of the Fey!!” The three yelled out.

“Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!” More people who were dressed like Stiles came out yelling.

It was now that Stiles first saw that beyond the meadow in the distance was a humongous castle.

Before Stiles could really digest what was happening they were ushering him back to the castle. Once in the castle he was guided by Chris and Peter and lead to where three throne chairs were. He took a chance and sat in the middle chair, apparently it was the right decision.

“Not that I am ungrateful for your presence sir but I think it is time for our king mate to come fully back to us.” Chris said.

“Yes I agree, but thank you much kindness for all that you have done” Peter agreed.

Stiles, ever so bewildered in this odd exchange didn't have time to come up with a response before he was given a golden flute with a sweet liquid in it. He took a few sips, moaning in appreciation. By the seventh sip he felt a really hard pull in his back that wretched him backwards and then…

Bam.

He was falling to the ground in front of the vet clinic in his world.

“Well, Mr. Stilinski, I guess that your Spark is much more powerful than I had originally thought! “Deaton said after running outside feeling the whoosh of familiar magic and the clinics door slam open.

“Wha...What the hell just happened Deaton?” Stiles asked after falling on his buttocks, arms outstretched behind him holding him up.

Stiles had just come falling out of the vet office door-backwards-having just been with Liam, Chris and Peter in the other world. His dream world if he could still call it that anymore. Now however he was looking into his worlds Derek and Deaton who held concern looking faces.

“When you called Mr. Hale to see if I was available and told me briefly what was going on I figured out even before Mr. Stilinski had told me the entirety of his dream.” Deaton once again was being cryptic, though this time it pissed Stiles off. Instead of letting it go and being patient he demanded that Deaton tell him what had really happened to him. “I had slipped the first dose of the special concoction that I had given you in the cup of tea that you drank here. To help you enter into that parallel reality of your dream.” Deaton explained.

“Wait are you telling me that it wasn't a dream that I was having it was what a...a...different reality?” Stiles asked.

“Precisely Mr. Stilinski. I have to admit though that I had not anticipated the strength of your Spark and how it would only take one dose to be so effective. My apologies Stiles.” Deaton really looked sincere and he had never used Stiles first name before so he knew that Deaton truly meant what he said.

“It is okay Deaton, really. It explains a lot actually. And I'm back here with my true mate so I am more relieved than anything. No harm, no foul.” Stiles said.

Derek moved forward stretching his arm out to help Stiles up. “What does Babe? Of course Im your true mate why wouldn't I be? Wait was I not your mate in that reality?” Derek sounded hurt, Stiles was quick to reassure him.

“I was in that reality, I guess, except I found that I wasn't a Spark I was a fey and a king. I was married to your uncle Peter and Chris Argent. And my best friend was Liam who turned out to be a domestic were-cat who turned into my familiar that had been bitten by you Derek instead of Peter bitting Scott and Scott bitting Liam.” Stiles reiterated what happened.

“Well that is different that's for sure.” Derek said to which Deaton agreed.

“It was very strange. Especially being married to Chris and Peter, though I have the strangest notion that they somehow knew that I had been in their Stiles, or whatever’s, body.” The three men walked back into the clinic, Stiles albeit slowly almost scared that it would take him back to that reality, or god forbid another one entirely. They sat down in the waiting room at the front of the clinic.

“There was an odd moment when I was back here in this reality, but not here obviously, I was in my old bedroom at my dads. Do you know why? I mean it didn't even last but a minute.” Stiles asked.

“Sounds like the connection broke for a minute and it brought you to the place that you lived most of your life, not the newest part of your life with Mr. Hale.” Deaton explained.

“Awe alright.” Stiles said taking this all in. It was strange to know that he had this great connection with another reality of himself, that he would never truly meet.

“Then what happened?” Deaton asked.

“We had to defeat this headless-” Stiles continued to retell what happened to him while in the other reality.

“Hmm sounds like it was a Nuckelavee that you destroyed. Wish I could have seen it.” Deaton said interrupting.

Stiles grinned at Deaton before looking at Derek to see that his mate looked impressed. “-and I began to drink from this flute of sweet liquid and wound up here on my ass like something pulled me backwards really fast.” Stiles finished telling the story.

The three men talked a bit more. Stiles finding out that the reason he was needed over in that reality was because the fey Stiles needed the extra help that Stiles spark could give in order to defeat the threat to his kingdom. But also that It required them to have a connection that passed through time and space throughout every reality.

After awhile Stiles turned to Derek. “Let’s go home, my soulmate, my sourwolf.” They bid Deaton a farewell before they took each other's hand and walked out to the camaro once again. This time making it to the car they got in and drove away from the clinic back to their home.

That night Stiles and Derek were eager to be close to each other. Worshiping each others bodies and not wanting to lose each others touch if they could help it. Derek making love to Stiles long in to the night.

[glitchinthesystemspiderbyte]

[49] Glitch in the System - Fight Club

By E.

Dirty fighting happens.

“It is time to go,” Widow said, hands on her hips as she stood in Sombra’s doorway with an impatient look edging her features. She was dressed to kill - literally - in loose sweats and carrying a bag of sparring pads over her shoulder. Somehow she managed to make pre-workout look good. She made everything look good.

It was a trap and Sombra knew it.

“Busy now,” she replied, resolutely not looking back at her. She was sitting at her desk for once viewing something on her screen, its importance questionable, but she’d have read through a binary translation of one of Widow’s old French tomes if it made her look too busy for sparring. “Maybe next time.”

“You cannot continue skipping training,” Widowmaker sighed, dropping the bag at her side. It hit with a louder thump than usual, and Sombra wondered if today was training with weapons or if the woman was just extra vexed at her refusal. “When is the last time you went?”

Sombra shrugged, making a show of thinking about it. Three months ago. “Last month?” she said instead.

“Non, not as I recall. And anyway,” Widow continued, lips pursed in disapproval, “more is better than less. It is important we stay sharp.”

“I’m not an assassin, cielito,” Sombra replied dramatically, swinging around on her chair so she was looking through her hard light screen at the other woman. The light distorted her face, and she wiggled around until Widowmaker’s eyes were side by side and her nose had disappeared in the refraction. She grinned stupidly, her expression wicking away every ounce of professionalism in her words. “I’m an information analyst.”

“An information analyst who carries a gun and has a body count,” was Widow’s unphased, stern response, which Sombra had a hard time taking seriously while the sniper had no nose.

“Part of the job,” Sombra replied offhandedly. “Sometimes you look at computers - doesn’t mean you need to practice hacking them.”

“The instances in which I need to ‘look at computers’ are far fewer than the times in which you need to engage in acts of violence.” Widow wasn’t budging on the topic. Sombra wasn’t surprised. She shifted her screens so Widow’s nose returned, but her left ear vanished and her forehead was inhumanly pointy.

“That’s why I keep you around,” she said, smiling sweetly through the flickering purple screen. “Get you to do my dirty work.”

“Your dirty work,” Widow repeated, the note of incredulity in her voice enhanced by the arch of her left brow. “I have seen you pistol-whip a man and shoot him point blank in the head.”

“Heat of the moment,” Sombra shrugged dismissively. “Besides, that’s hardly hand to hand combat. I’m an opportunist. I make opportunities and exploit them.”

“You cannot define a word using the word itself.”

“Watch me.”

Widowmaker rubbed the bridge of her nose, eyes closed as she outwardly battled a deep vexation. “Regardless, you wouldn’t need to create opportunity if you would go to sparring like you are supposed to.”

“Maybe,” Sombra shrugged, leaning back in a resolute picture of stubbornness. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Widowmaker had no immediate rejoinder, her golden eyes fixed firmly on Sombra’s own. Sombra could almost see the complex machine that was her brain cranking furiously, and watched as she creased her eyebrows thoughtfully. “Does Gabriel know you have been skipping training?” she asked finally, her voice far more flippant than the inherent threat heavy in the words themselves.

Sombra shifted her screens to the side so she could look at her clearly. “Maybe.”

“Sombra.”

“I make sure my time is logged,” she said evasively, quickly trying to calculate her intent.

Widowmaker nodded slowly and looked down at her wrist. “Well, we have lost ten minutes already. Perhaps we can forego training today, and review past training videos,” she said, eyebrow raised threateningly. “Perhaps I can ask Gabriel to recall them so you can study your technique?”

Sombra watched as she punched in the first three numbers of Gabriel’s personal comms number, looking up pointedly as she did. “You wouldn’t,” Sombra said under her breath.

“Ah, but I would, mon coeur.”

“No mames,” Sombra swore, swiping her console away in a shower of angry sparks. “You’re terrible.”

“Oui. It is as they say,” she said, smiling just enough to irritate Sombra further, “‘tough love.’”

Sombra groaned. “Let me get dressed.”

“See you downstairs in ten,” Widow replied sweetly, and Sombra watched her walk away with a sway to her hips that only accented the air of victory she’d left in her wake.

“Oof,” Sombra exhaled as Widow punched her for the fifth time in the stomach. The first two she’d chalked up to being rusty; the rest she had to admit were just because she was terrible at close combat. “Stop that.”

“The pain is your teacher. Block and you will be fine.” Widow sidestepped backwards with the grace of a dancer, her extensive background in ballet showing in her footwork and agility. Sombra was pretty sure there wasn’t punching in ballet, but clearly it was a skill Widowmaker had no problem picking up in more recent years.

“I can’t block if you keep hitting me,” Sombra answered sourly. Even so, she made a good faith effort at protecting herself from Widow’s next blow. Miraculously, it seemed to work, for that and the next, and the next after that. For a moment, Sombra felt the familiar light of success ignite inside her, and she felt good.

At least until Widow’s next blow was a fake to her left that landed square in her jaw.

“Ya valió madres,” she cursed, nearly spinning around from the hit. Their sparring gear helped prevent injuries, but it did little to soften the impact of a well-placed fist. “Can we be done yet?”

Widowmaker stood back, hands behind her back. She hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. “It has been five minutes, Sombra,” she replied, her unnatural patience even more maddening than usual. “It is unlike you to admit defeat.”

“I’m not admitting shit,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “I’m out of my element. It’s not fair.”

“What was it you said?” Widow asked, canting her head in a maddening display of cool superiority. “‘Where’s the fun in playing fair?’”

“Low blow, spider, spitting my own taunts back at me like that.”

“Allow me to aim a bit higher this time.” In a move Sombra only barely saw coming, Widow faked her yet again, hooking an ankle behind Sombra’s and flipping the smaller woman forward over her leg. She grabbed her collar before she hit the ground, saving her from an uncomfortable fall onto the padded floor.

“For fuck’s sake Widow,” she choked, and Widow hauled her back to her feet. “You can’t even let me take my punishment properly.”

“A deviation from the norm,” she replied demurely, and Sombra blushed.

“This is why I forge my attendance records.”

“And perhaps evidence as to why you should not.” Widowmaker placed her hands by her sides and stood tauntingly close to Sombra. “Shall we start with the basics?”

“I know a trap when I see one, araña,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the obvious bait and taking an involuntary step back. Widowmaker fell into a combat stance and hooked with her right, landing a glancing blow on Sombra’s shoulder.

“Did you not get into fights in Dorado?” Widow asked, sounding genuinely curious, but utterly unable to shelve the self-satisfied smirk reaching across her face as she levied another hit towards Sombra’s cheek.

“Plenty of them,” Sobra said, dodging at the last minute.

“And you came away with nothing from this,” Widow asked. She was trying to goad her into attacking, assailing her with a barrage of lazy, easy hits to push Sombra into making a careless move. It was a good tactic, all told; Sombra was certainly eager to smack her after she’d effortlessly wiped the floor with her for the past several.

“Not entirely,” she grumbled. “Just nothing like this weird battle dancing you do.” To be fair, Sombra had ample experience in the art of hand to hand combat. She’d learned in real time, on the streets, as a gut reaction to situations in which her livelihood or her life had been in danger. While Widow’s combat expertise had been born of trained agility and precision, Sombra’s had been the result of survival and getting along by the skin of her teeth.

Now that she thought about it, arms raw from hits she hadn’t been fast enough to counter, she realized she might have an advantage in this skirmish after all.

“Battle dancing,” Widowmaker smiled, moving like liquid as she watched Sombra deep in thought. “A fitting term.”

Sombra smirked in response, and changed her perception from the sparring ring to a cluttered alley, and Widow was no longer a frustrating challenge but a rival gang member with a shiv and a grudge.

Sombra looked around as Widow bobbed and weaved before her, taking pot shots at the sniper with no real intention of hitting her so much as moving her into an advantageous position.

“Apagando las luces,” she whispered, the old phrase bringing back a slew of memories as she used it not to destroy a mechanical neural network but bring her shoulder down as Widow swung for her head that was no longer where it should be. The sniper faltered, a look of shock crossing her face, and Sombra rushed forward to bridge the gap.

Her shoulder hit Widow in the stomach, knocking the wind audibly out of her as she slammed her body into the taller woman’s solar plexus, sending her backwards over a pile of blue mats at the edge of the sparring ring. Widowmaker had no chance to recover, toppling backwards without an ounce of grace in a heap that Sombra couldn’t help but laugh at as she tumbled right along after her.

“Gotcha,” she said, landing gracelessly on top of her. She could almost ignore the throbbing pain in both her arms and stomach in the face of her sudden, unexpected victory.

Widowmaker looked up from where she lay, flopped over the pile of stacked mats, splayed on the floor with the other woman sprawled on top of her. “That was terrible form,” she said, making no move to get up as Sombra rested her elbows alongside Widow’s head.

“Well it wasn’t your fancy fucking jiu-jitsu, but I still won the fight,” Sombra replied.

“Through deception.”

“Through savvy,” she replied, shaking her head and bringing her face closer. “You were right.”

Sombra could feel Widowmaker’s hands creeping up her back. “I was?” she asked, voice shifting from reluctance to a soft purr.

“Yeah,” Sombra said, pressed against the length of her. “I do know how to fight.”

“You certainly know how to brawl,” Widow agreed against her ear, lips brushing along her neck. “With zero finesse.”

“Whatever,” Sombra grinned, pulling back just out of reach, unwilling to give up her victory so soon. “You’re just sour you lost.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Sombra laughed and allowed Widow to hold her in place as she pressed her hands to either side of her face and gifted her with a deep kiss.

“This is different than how we sparred in Overwatch,” Gabriel’s voice announced, his voice rough and sudden, but nurturing enough amusement that Sombra didn’t bother standing right away.

“Not what I’ve heard,” she muttered to herself. Widowmaker smirked.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel said, and Sombra didn’t have to look back to see his eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, boss,” she replied, and pushed herself to her feet. “Just teaching Widow how to fight dirty.”

Gabriel grimaced and Widowmaker made a noise of deep discomfort. “I see,” he said, fighting to keep a smile from forming on the black wisps emanating from his lips. “Well perhaps you can continue this particular lesson elsewhere. I need the gym for some recruit drills.”

“Absolutely,” Sombra laughed, hauling Widowmaker up from the ground and pulling her towards the door.

“Oh, and Sombra?” Gabriel added as she trotted across the gym.

“What?” Sombra asked, immediately suspicious.

“You owe me three months of training. I expect to see you here again,” he said, not turning from where he stood, a scarred shadow with its arms held behind its back. Sombra knew without any question that the fucker was grinning like an idiot. “Double time until you catch up.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

“Is this a good time for an I told you so?” Widow asked, affecting innocence.

Sombra turned and walked away, leaving Widowmaker and her shit-eating grin to catch up later.

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.

[thekiddos]

Joan Shepard

Questions and answers under the cut

How easy is it to earn your Shepard’s trust? Difficult, with exceptions. she is distrustful of most people when she first meets them, especially civilians, politicians, or mainstream journalists. Alliance soldiers/officers get a boost in her trust, especially if well recommended by someone she already trusts. she will still distrust these to a certain degree until they’ve personally earned her trust. If you save her life/have you life saved by her, you are on the fast track to real trust.

What are their flaws? Do they like talking about them and/or do they acknowledge them and try work on them? She has a short temper and is prone to violent outbursts, she is cold calculations when it comes to making tactical military decisions, and sometimes lets her pride get in the way of responding rationally to pressure.

What memory do they like to remember? - a select few moments from her youth, like kicking it back with Lex or Simona, driving around like they owned the city, orbreaking her leg and convincing the nurse that Kolton was her father. Meeting Dan and Uri, Nathan’s adoptive parents. the day Nathan was born. Her first (uneventful) deployment after boot camp. Her first squad. the day she graduated N school

What memory/actions do they hate to be reminded of?  Nathan’s father, Botho. running in a gang, including the amount of death and drugs she saw and dealt out, and the women she protected. her first command on Torfan. Virmire. Horizon. the O-4 relay and the suicide mission. Thessia. Kai Leng. Thane. Zaeed. Miranda. Thessia. 

What was your Shepard’s dream job before they became a soldier? - she couldn’t see herself doing anything but running in a gang. Once she joined the alliance she was intending to serve and go to college but couldn’t fathom what she would do once she got there.   

From what culture does your Shepard come? Do they have any traditions? If they’re Earthborn and/or don’t know much about their background: From what city/planet does your Shepard come? Did they create any traditions based on the city they grew up in? - she’s Earthborn, and hardly knew her parents, and as a result, her heritage. She’s from the Seattle-Portland Metropolis and as a result is kind of a snoot when it comes to real coffee or street art. Beyond that, she has a fuckload of tattoos due to running in a gang all of her youth, including a list of names/dates that runs down her back, and gets new ones crammed in for every significant event. between being in a gang and the military, she has a lot of superstitious rituals about things that you don't say or do surrounding battle. she's a big believer in luck, but if you ask if she's superstitious she will tell you no, then in the same breath tell you to stop doing that thing you're doing.

Did they want to be a part of the N7 program? - She didnt know what it was until Anderson suggested that she go for it. She applied not thinking that she would get in but what dumbfounded and ecstatic when she did. She called Dan and Uri when she found out. they sent her a congratulations card and a necklace which she still has.

What embarrasses them? - people pointing out her flaws and mistakes. her pride gets injured and she gets mad, fast. she rubs her the wrong way when people ask about her tattoos, which is why she stays covered collar to cuff when shes in command or in public.

What are their hobbies and which hobby is their favorite? - she builds model ships in her downtime, and listens to podcasts about mundane shit like watchmaking or cooking or ask-annie type podcasts. these are her favorite and usually happen at the same time. she also dances, like. throw-down-and-school-Jimmy-Vega-with-sick-ass-break-dancing dances. she doesn’t enjoy this one as much because she learned it in the Reds, so she doesn’t do it often but the expression on people’s faces is priceless.

What animal(s) do they like the most? - She really likes fish and birds, pet-wise. when the SR2 came with a fish tank suddenly all the podcasts and wikipedia articles she’d binged came in handy. she was like. stupid excited.

What is their favorite drink or cocktail? - Vodka. straight. she doesn’t mess around. then she will drink cranberry juice.

Are they more of a coffee person or tea person? - Coffee, but only good coffee. She’s from Seattle, after all. if the coffee is bad, she will take caffeine pills in lukewarm water instead, or down it in one like a shot and then go brush her teeth. 

What is their favorite kind of weather? - gentle rain and overcast. with dapples of sun. Seattle in March.

What’s your Shepard’s favorite weapon? - Shotgun. and grenades

Which armor does your Shepard like? - the heavier the better, with as many grenade spots ass possible.

What songs does your Shepard sing in the shower? - Hip hop/ rap.  or spoken word/jazz.

Do they like a specific music genre or do they usually listen to whatever song they like? - she cant really abide anything that doesn’t have a strong beat or decent lyrics. she also avoids most instrument-based music.

Which planet do they like the most? - Earth will always be home to her, no matter how bad it treated her.

Which planet do they hate? - Horizon and Virmire. Not just for the bad events, but also. too humid. too sunny.

Can your Shepard cook? - functionally, yes. but not well and not fancy.

What is their favorite Disney movie? - The Incredibles.

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color? - She thinks she looks best in gold. she also looks great in red. When she joined the Alliance she swore off wearing red, but after she joined the N school, red took on a new kind of pride for her. it was a reclamation of the color. that said, if she is going to Earth, she does not wear red.

What is their height and what body type does your Shepard have? - six feet tall and fucking stacked.

If you could change Shepard’s voice in-game, which voice actors would you choose for them? - never. Jennifer Hale is God.

Who is your Shepard’s LI? - Kaidan Alenko

How does your Shepard like to spend time with their LI? - She tried sharing the model ship building with Kaidan, but realized quickly that they could not be working on the same one at the same time and that she was much more possessive over the parts than she thought.  she does like that he can make them fly around with his biotics, though. She likes spending time outdoors with him, even simulated outdoors. they like quiet time and also getting way way too pumped for biotiball. they also get very competitive in mariocart.

Who is your Shepard’s best friend? - Garrus and Wrex. and Kaidan of course. Ashley in the timeline where she lives.

Does your Shepard like to relax? If so, what activities makes them relax? - She likes to but she doesn’t often have the time for it. she can only relax when she has no responsibilities she can be taking care of Right Now. Mostly Model Ship building.

How does your Shepard act like when they’re stressed? Do they hide it or do they make it obvious that they need to calm down? - she hides it very well, but after an extended period of stress it starts to show in various ticks and twitches, slightly faster speech and lowered attention span if she hasn’t been sleeping. any one of them is s bad sign, but when they start stacking stay out of her way.

How does your Shepard handle difficult situations? - she tends to be cold and calculating. If its a numbers issue, the answer is always obvious to her, no matter the morals (she made that mistake before). she doesn’t deal with things she cant control and she tends to save up her stress to deal with later.

How do they handle jealousy? - because of Botho, she spent so much of her youth absolutely green with jealously. it used to make her physically sick. Since then she never really had any strong relationships that warranted getting jealous over, so she thought she had gotten over it. But when Kaidan said he’d gone out with that doctor she felt a spike in her stomach of that same jealousy. She doesn’t necessarily make it the other person’s problem but it really affects her.

How do they handle guilt? she has so much saved up that she has learned to brush it off. she’s able to chalk it up to “I fucked up and I can never make it better so I might as well not worry about it and burn that bridge.”

Are they a genuinely funny person or do they prefer to annoy their squadmates with bad puns? - the bad puns are usually unintentional but then she points them out. she’s a fan of knock knock jokes.

Do they want to get married? - Yes, but not now. at least not until Nathan needs a new home and in that case YES HELL YES

How do they feel about children? - She had Nathan the day she turned 17 and left him with two loving fathers who kept her updated and became her own more-or-less adopted parents. She never expected to want custody of him or other children but when Dan and Uri die she jumps at the chance to take Nathan in, and also adopts a handful of other orphaned children in the wake of the Reaper War.

Questions courtesy of @avelakjar​

@susurrusilous @ember4lock @foor-beem I thought you might like to read this

[noxiim]

(1/3)Okayyyy so i mightve sent a few asks abt this before but this topic is really now bugging me cuz i have depression and im sensitive to like everything. Im starting to take this "not getting notes on my art" thing really personally and i know it sounds childish (and i laugh at myself for it) but i cant help but get upset when i spend so much time and effort and get like no feedback. And i know people say not to draw what u love and not for attention but honestly i dont even know what

and i dont even know if im drawing what ilike sometimes. Yeah i love bts but i dont know if i like what im drawing or ifim just doing it for notes???? And i have a lot of anxiety too and thats wherei feel like im taking this too personally. Cuz im starting to think that my artdoesnt get notes cuz its straight up not good which leads me to think ishouldnt even try to pursue a career in art anymore. But im not good atanything else so wtf am i gonna do if i dont succeed in art???? Like i said i laugh at myself for thinking like this and iprobably sound like a fuckin child but i cant help it???? Like i think my artis decent???? But maybe its not???? Idk like this was really hitting me todaycuz i feel like im wasting so much time and im probably gonna be one of thosepoor college students cuz i decided to focus on art more rather than taking ajob cuz i thought i could make money off of my art but yknow clearly its notgoing so well and im scared for my future U dont have to give advice to all of that i just needed tolet that all out 

Aw dude don’t worry I get what you mean,I actually experienced something similar when I first started posting my art totumblr, and even recently when I first started posting bts fanart. It’sperfectly normal to want recognition (in this case in the form of notes) forsomething you worked so hard on!! I think one of the major issues with postingto such a big fandom such as bts though is that there’s so many peopleproducing content at any given time, that it’s incredibly easy to get drownedout. Especially since tumblr changed how search and track tagging worked, itmade it that much harder for people to get noticed for their content.

When I first switched to drawing for bts,I found it hard because I also focused a lot on my note count. For someone whowas originally well established in a previous fandom, the move to bts was quitea jarring experience. I had built my following on tf2 art, and used toconsistently get a couple hundred notes, but one of main reasons why I left wasbecause of the dwindling of note counts. When I first left, overwatch had justcome out and a lot of attention shifted towards that game away from tf2, andalthough I still love the game, the dramatic decrease in notes on my art fortf2 really made me sad and I ended up deciding to leave the fandom after 3years of drawing tf2 art. I hopped around a bit, before eventually getting intobts. Even then, my first few pieces (they’re not on my #bts fanart tag so mostpeople wouldn’t have ever seen them) either got no notes at all or only two orthree. It was easier for me to establish myself in a fandom such as tf2 back inthe day since it was such a small, tight knit community with limited contentcreators, but now with bts there are so many more people and it just seemedhopeless for a while and I lost motivation in my art. I stopped wanting todraw, since it felt like nobody cared. Art is the biggest hobby I have, solosing my confidence in my art was crushing.

Now you might be wondering how I got towhere I am today. I’ll be completely honest with you. For me, I highly doubt Iwould be anywhere near where I am if it weren’t for networks. I had neverjoined a network before, but decided to join armiesnet and jimin network one daywhen I saw that applications were open. I got accepted, and I joined theirrespective group chats too. I met lots of great people on those chats, and madea lot of new friends which was nice after having moved fandoms and lost touchwith many previous mutuals. I’m so glad I joined networks, because not only doyou have the chance to make mutuals who will support you and your art, thenetwork blog itself also reblogs all its members’ content which gives youexposure to members of the network through both the network tag and through thedashboard. It’s a perfect way to get started, rather than hoping that somebodywith a decent following will happen to stumble across your work in the tags oneday and reblog it.

That being said, unless you’re like somesort of godly human being I don’t think we can ever get over how note countsfeel as an artist. We need something to gauge people’s response to our art, andthat tends to default to note counts. I can assure you that the feeling of disappointmentwhen your post doesn’t get as many notes as you want/expected it to is a thingpretty much all artists on this site shares. People always say “you should drawfor yourself, not for other people” but that’s the equivalent of like say themona lisa being painted and then left to rot in Da Vinci’s closet or something.The whole point of art is sharing your ideas/love for something through yourdrawings with other people, and so it’s perfectly normal to want therecognition you deserve for working so hard and putting so much love into yourcraft. When it feels like you’re all alone, you have to remember not to giveup. Creating art in such a big fandom can be unforgiving, but just rememberthat your art is never the one at fault. It’s all about finding that littlegolden window of exposure, whether it be through one big blog or a couplesmaller blogs reblogging your work. Those kind few people will be what helpsyou grow, and you have to keep posting for that to happen. If you water a plantbut it doesn’t bloom the next day, abandoning it will get you nowhere. If youjust keep going, keep watering it, results will come. Keep reminding yourselfthat you’re doing well, and you can compare older art to your current art tosee the progress and keep you motivated. Don’t force yourself to draw if youaren’t feeling it – art is something that should make you happy. I used to drawbecause I felt the pressure to put out content, but that just resulted in mefalling into a negative spiral of art block, limited motivation and generalunhappiness with my art as a result. Remember that there’s no such thing as adeadline when it comes to posting art on tumblr – work at whatever pace suitsyou and if anybody tries to rush you, shut them down. You’re the artist, youget to choose what you do with your art, how you do it, and how long you spendon it.

If you truly have your sights set onbecoming an artist full time, then by all means go for it! I can’t give muchadvice in that area since I only plan on keeping art as a hobby, but justremember that art school is always optional. In the end, working as an artistis all about the portfolio, not where you graduated from. It’s more importantto work on your art than it is to get in to an amazing art school. Sure, artschools can be useful, but in the end they are simply tools, sort of like atutorial rather than something that will magically turn you into an amazing artistwith amazing job offers. At the end of the day, it’s all up to yourself to workhard and promote yourself. Since art is all about reaching different audienceswith your work, promoting yourself is essential, even if it’s just casualfanart on tumblr. Feedback can’t come without exposure, and exposure can’t comewithout self-promotion.

Lastly, remind yourself that there’s nosuch thing as ‘bad art’. That might sound like a stupid statement, but inreality art is a constantly changing thing. There is no pinnacle of perfection,no model artwork that represents the most perfect drawing out there. Everyonehas different styles, everyone has different approaches, and most importantly,everyone is still improving. I’m still learning and trying to improve my ownart, and there’s no shame in that. It’s easy to perceive someone else’s art asbetter than yours which would lead to some self-critical thoughts, but you haveto remember that the other artist is probably looking at their own art andpicking it apart, thinking “aw man there are so many mistakes here.” It’s fineto make mistakes, after all, that’s how we learn. Just because we see mistakesin our own art doesn’t mean that everyone else will too – nobody looks at artand their first thought is to list all of the mistakes present. As long as youare aware of what you are less confident in and actively work to improve it,you can quickly surpass even the people you look up to.

So yeah, sorry that this is hella longlol, but in all honestly I can understand what you’re going through. It’seasier said than done, but even though it might feel hard - don’t give up. Youmight feel like you’re not getting anywhere at the moment but I assure you thatif you just keep going, things will only get better. That’s the thing abouttumblr, if you keep posting art your audience can only grow. For now, I would definitelyrecommend joining some networks, and making some friends. It’s not uncommon forpeople to promo their own work in the network chat occasionally, as long as youdon’t spam haha

Anywho, I wish you the best of luck withyour art journey. If you need me you know where to find me 💕💕💕

[itsmkjones]

Imagine: Hiking with Sam.

Sam x Reader

Content: Fluff & Smutty beginnings

Request @har-rystyles: Hiiii! Hope you're well, I absolutely adore your work! Your way with words is just beautiful. If it's alright, could I request a Sam/Reader fic? Loads of fluff, with a large helping of smut on the side; perhaps where the reader is interested in photography? A walk through the woods with Sam and her camera, or small intimate moments where the reader cant help but capture every detail of Sam that she adores- take it wherever you want! Thank you Xx

Salt mingled in the cool morning breeze, drifting through the forest carrying the scent of the sea from the west. The relaxing psithurism soothed and excited your mind drawing unending waves of energy despite the early hour. As the crisp air kissed your cheeks you grinned unrestrained at the path before you as if the babble of the creek to your right spoke amusing tales to the canopy of new green above. Lingering snow in the pockets of shadows patched the browns of tree bark with bright white allowing the infantile shoots of grass and flowers to appear in the richest of greens. You paused on the path leaning back ten degrees to view the scene through the lens of your camera. You twisted the focusing ring to compensate for the wide landscape and clicked.

“Did you get a good shot?” Sam’s voice; as soft as the spongy soil below your boots, warm like the dancing rays of sunlight drifting through the leaves, and as clear as the brook following the path, asked.

He stood in stealth like silence behind you, body heat mingling between his chest and your back, his breath whispering over your neck. You smiled happily. His company on this adventure of yours enticed joy to well in your chest often provoking the question, “is it a sin to be this happy?”. You tipped the camera to view the picture preview, letting Sam look over your shoulder.

“I think so.” You glanced at him, watching as he studied the picture with considerate attention. “What do you think?”

His lips parted in a fleeting grin. “It’s good, real good.”

Your eyes flickered over the features of his face in rapt interest. Sam Winchester was an ever changing work of art. Emotion and expression twisted, toyed, and colored every inch of his face, whether it was the way his lips twitched in different levels of amusement or disappointment, or the way his brows knitted and smoothed with sympathy or realization- in those fleeting moments the essence of art was born. Perhaps, it was his features, so alike the pallet of the forest you loved.

“What?” Sam chuckled softly as he noticed your staring. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

You shook your head softly, a whimsical smile gracing your lips. “Just thinking…”

“Yeah?” You caught sight of a dimple as he grinned, eyes averted.

“Yeah.”

He scratched his jaw line just under his ear before readjusting his backpack. “So, what else do you wanna take pictures of? We still have time before we get to the top.”

You shrugged, “Whatever interests me.”

You took your time fiddling with the settings on your camera, allowing Sam to step ahead. He stopped taking a moment to look up the length of a Redwood tree. The wind sighed against his hair, tendrils of light caressing the lines of his face. Your heart slammed against your chest, breath stolen. Your camera lifted to your eye automatically. You clicked quickly, afraid to lose the moment. The camera captured the full body shot of Sam at trail’s edge. You zoomed in, trying to steady the excitement vibrating through your hands. Your finger pulled the setting to take multiple shots, then pressed down on the shutter button. Rapid clicks sounded from the camera capturing the scene. You glanced at the result.

The session showed a crystal clear image of Sam’s face bathed in the elfin light. Gold rays highlighted the length of his eyelashes, flushing the brilliance of his eyes to the surface. The color recorded was devastatingly breath taking. As you studied it you couldn’t breath nor tear your focus away. It was like staring into the brook: pale shades of river stone grey touched by flawless cerulean skies formed the backdrop for flecks of liquid amber and touches of new leaf green. As you clicked through the pictures his dark lashes lowered causing the colors of his eyes to deepen richly with every millisecond. The last few pictures were of his eyes completely closed, face luxuriously serene with pale pink lips barely parted.

“You comin’?” Sam startled you from your revere. Your head snapped, mind blank and faltering. “Y/n?”

“Yeah!” You laughed awkwardly to cover your embarrassment. “I’m right behind you!”

You trailed behind him snapping shots of the way light played in the trees and bounced off the stream, yet you always seemed to find Sam, naturally candid and strikingly beautiful. You captured images of him holding up a leaf, dipping his hands in the water, looking into the forest, and many more of him simply existing amongst nature. With every snap, you were unknowingly sucked deeper into determination, vying to record every fraction of Sam with greedy unwavering intent. It wasn’t until you reached the crest of the hill, where the forest opened to a clearing that you realized that you had forgone taking any purely nature oriented pictures. As Sam unpacked his backpack for an early lunch you forced yourself to take a few superficial and thoughtless photos of the area.

“Alright,” Sam shrugged, hands falling to slap his thighs, “All good to go, I guess.”

You flipped off the camera, capping the lens. Sam offered an adorably unsure expression as he glanced from the threadbare blanket spread out below a Pine tree to you. You lips curled as the sight warmed your chest. The spread was by no means fancy, consisting of a couple of pre-wrapped subs and two different kinds of canned soda.

“Aw, how cute!” You gushed plopping down on the blanket.

“Really?” He peered out from under his brows with reserved doubt. “You think this is cute?”

You unlooped the camera strap from your neck, rolling your head to your shoulder as relief flooded the weighted muscle. You set the camera down carefully on the edge of the blanket, then stretched across the blanket to snatch a sandwich. You smiled up at Sam earnestly.

“Of course!” Your brows came together in teasing confusion, “You brought a picnic… How is that not cute?”

Sam lowered to the blanket slowly, tongue pressed behind his teeth as he searched for words. “I don’t know… it’s not like I brought a home cooked meal and a bottle of champagne or something…”

You quirked an eyebrow, “First of all, simple can be cute. Secondly… can you even cook? Also, I hate champagne,”

He laughed softly, “Alright, alright. I guess, I just thought you’d expect more, is all.”

A hesitant vulnerability with a hint of guilt colored his features. The tender expression pulled at your heart driving affection to feel your gaze.

“Maybe I’m just easy going,” You replied with a soft shrug, “but a meatball sub can buy my love.”

“Fair enough,” His dimples reappeared as he grabbed his sandwich.

You emitted an exaggerated moaned as you bit into the sub. “God, this is good. A+ sandwich, Winchester.”

“You can thank Dean.” Sam grinned at your dramatic reaction before taking his first bite. “This is good.”

“I know…” You continued, mouth full, “The bread is still crispy and warm, and the cheese…” you moaned appreciatively, “so much cheese… so gooey…”

“Want some privacy there?”

You pouted. It lost some of its sting accompanied with puffy cheeks. Sam just shook his head with a laugh. Despite starting first, Sam polished off his food and cracked open a soda before you reached the halfway point in your sub. He pointed to your camera.

“Can I take a look?”

You shrugged automatically. He reached across the blanket, shirt pulling up his side as he stretched for the camera. A flash of tan skin caught your eye, the curve of his hip bone held it. The sight made your mind wander and you averted your gaze lost in thought. Suddenly, your brain snapped to reality. You scrambled to grab your camera first only to find Sam already sitting upright again and switching the power on.

“Wait!” You dropped the remainder or the sub to the side, bringing your feet under your knees to lean forward. “Don’t look yet!”

Sam’s face twisted into bemused confusion. “Why? You let me look before…”

You wavered, “Er, yeah, but…”

“What? Don’t tell me this is self-doubting artist type thing…” He nodded to the screen where the last picture you took appeared. “See, this is really good!”

Heat seeped under your collar rising up your neck bringing a nervous sweat to bead. “S-sam… it’s not that…”

“Then what?” He tilted his head finding your eyes with soft concern. He continued with an exhale, “But if you’re uncomfortable, then I won’t look.”

A blush bloomed over the bridge of your nose and swept across your cheeks. You closed your eyes and let out a long breath through pursed lips.

“I’m embarrassed, okay?” You peeked out at him to see him steadfastly watching you with sincere invested interest. The confession tumbled from your lips, unable to hide from his warm eyes. “I took some pictures of you.”

His brows twitched up in surprise. His face brightened, lips pulling back into beguiled flattery. “Really?”

You groaned, rocking back on your heels hiding your face in your hands. “Yes, okay? So, please give it back!”

“No!” Laughter shimmered in his voice. He pulled away as you reached for the camera. “I want to see.”

Your mouth fell open. “You’re seriously not going to give it back? I thought you were the nice one!”

“What?” His brows knitted together good naturedly. He blocked you with his elbow, fending off your grabbing. “Who says I’m the nice one?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Literally everyone.”

“Well, considering you took my picture without asking, I think it’s fair that I get to look at them without permission.”

Words died on your tongue leaving you to gape in response. His eyebrow lifted in pointed victory before his gaze dropped to the display. You snatched your sub up, taking a rebelliously petulant bite in response. As he flipped through your pictures you eyed his back wearily. Minutes ticked by after you finished your meal, leaving you with nothing to occupy your time, forcing you to wait in building anguished anticipation. You tapped the expanse of metal atop the soda can with a fingernail. The metallic ting cut through the ambient birdsong. You inhaled sharply, spine straightening, when Sam lowered the camera. His expression was unusually indiscernible as he handed the device over. You held your breath as his tongue wet his lip.

“Not your usual stuff, but I can tell it’s still good.” He commented evenly taking a long laid-back, distinctly and annoying nonplussed sip of his drink.

You frowned. Alleviation and discontent thoughts waged a mental battle. Before your emotion could find resolve, your tongue pushed forth your incredulity, “That’s it?”

Sam lowered his soda meeting your skepticism with measured query. “What do you mean?”

“N-nothing!” You set the camera down, careful to keep it safe.

You sighed. Disappointment drifted below your gut and dry, hot emotion squeezed your heart. You heard Sam shift, but managed to keep your pre-planned pace steady instead of glancing his way. Your eyes dragged along the line of navy blanket. An excuse of natural optical movement repeated itself in your mind, but it was all too obvious you were avoiding Sam’s eyes. With a deep breath you lifted your gaze. A yelp caught in your throat, body jumping as you found Sam’s face inches away from yours. The corner of his lips twitched with a ghost of amusement, as if your surprise pleased a hidden patch of sadism. You scowled playfully. The glare vanished when his smile deepened allowing dimples to pinch his cheeks.

“So, why were you taking pictures of me?” Those fascinating eyes kept you pin to the spot. Your gaze darted between them, studying the color. They appeared slightly different in the shade of the tree and so close. Copper hues bloomed from the iris, shading between tones of brown and gold, behind lay the clearest of blues- the type of blue that could only be found in the the purest of flawless skies and virgin pools of water- jade bridged the amber to azul. A burning in your lungs alerted to reality. You exhaled a shuddering breath that caused the tips of his hair to flutter. Sam smirked.

“You’ve got pretty eyes!” You snapped defensively.

His head tilted slightly, eyelashes clicking lower hooding his gaze, bringing the browns to prominence. His gaze found your lips and for a heartbeat you could imagine his lips touching yours. “Just because of my eyes, huh?”

“Well,” You pulled back a fraction before you could lean forward. “Maybe…” He moved forward, chin tilting up, angling to catch your lips from his lower angle. “You’re distracting…”

His gaze flicked up to yours with a charming adoring smile, before falling to your lips again. His hand came to your cheek, fingertips brushing the hairline under your ear as his lips pressed into yours. You gasped at the tender warmth. A tingle like a burning feather sweeping over your heart elicited an achingly frail emotion to surface. His mouth sealed against yours in a soft deliberate reconnoitre; exploring, savoring. His fingers curled behind your neck, thumb caressing your cheek. You gasped for air as he broke away. His nose brushed against yours. You struggled to catch your breath as he waited, gauging your reaction.

“Y/n…” His husky voice retained a breathlessness.

“Sam…” You exhaled. Your vision seemed hazy as you gazed at his beautiful face, brain swimming in euphoria. “Do that again.”

He smiled, chin ducking to chuckle shyly. You touched his cheek, mirroring the gesture he was still doing, but you raked your fingers through his hair at his temple gently, sweeping through his hair, clutching his head as you moved forward to catch his lips. He leaned back, laying against the blanket as you slid beside him. You brushed back his hair, teasing and stroking his lips with a meticulous kiss. His hand slid up your spine, diving into your hair gingerly. The hand on your cheek cupped your chin. When the second kiss broke, you gaze at Sam below you with a sweet smile. He studied your face leisurely, knuckles trailing over your lips before skimming the side of your face and sliding over your brow and into your hair. A painfully fragile smile touched his lips.

“You have gorgeous eyes.” His thumb rubbed the line of your cheekbone.

Your head snapped back in surprise, “Have you seen your eyes?”

A deep chuckle vibrated in his chest, “I prefer yours.”

A tide of heat gushed against your heart. The muscle stuttering in your chest. “Damn Winchester…” A heavy breath rushed from your lungs. “That’s some line.”

Affection tinged his gaze. In an effortless movement, he rolled to his side sweeping you to your back. He pushed back a strand of hair with a callused finger, framing your face with the side of his hand as if to garner an unrestricted view of your visage. He dropped a lingering chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s true.” He admitted. “You have the most expressive eyes…”

Your eyebrow raised accordingly. He kissed your cheek before you could respond. A blush rose under his unwavering attention despite your wavering efforts to remain calm.

“I love the way the light up when you see something you like…” He kissed your temple eliciting a delicious vibration of butterflies to flutter from your chest through your stomach and into your knees. “I love the way you get lost in your photography, losing sight in everything, but what’s on the other side of the camera.”

He kissed a tender spot beneath your ear that made you squirm. His brows lifted at the discovery, a satisfied smile following. He found your lips, his kisses still gradual and passive. You slipped behind his head, deepening the kiss. His body sank, chest flushing against your side. Seeking a new angle, he turned his head. Your teeth clashed together igniting a primal urgent need. A sudden powerful lust slammed against your core. Your fingers tightened in his hair, back arching instinctively to find his. Your mouths moved together greedily, desperation thriving with every touch. You pulled at Sam’s shirt urging him closer, vying for closeness. His hands clutched the sides of your head, holding you still as he responded in turn. His tongue slipped between your lips, the tip massaging and enticing the nerves of your tongue with practiced control, swallowing the heady moans his ministrations earned. Your hands skipped down his body, finger hooking in his belt loops. In frenzied thoughtlessness, you yanked his hips forward. You could feel his muscles tighten down his body. He paused for a beat, as his hips tilted against you, grinding against your side. A primal groan rumbled in his throat, ending his lapse of movement.

You gasped as he found the sensitive spot on your neck. Hands digging into his shoulders, you arched into him. His kisses became fervent, breaking form your lips to suck a trail down your throat and along your collarbone as he pushed the collar of your shirt lower. His hand, warm and rough, pushed up your torso finding intent in cupping over your chest. He massaged, thumb slipping below the material to toy with the hardening nub. He lowered, mouth parted in purpose. You tugged at his shirt and he paused his goal to wrestle away the material revealing the length of his toned tanned arms. You watched in fascination as he grabbed the back of his shirt’s neckline and pulled it forward. His naked torso wasn’t foreign to you, but knowing it had been revealed for your gaze and touch had a breath catch in your throat. You reached out tracing the lines of his muscles, idly following the path where twin lines disappeared beneath his jeans. He gasped holding back a small shudder when your finger dipped below the fabric teasingly.

His tongue passed over his lips, tender eyes fixated with smoldering captivation on your body as he encircled his hands about your waist and pushed up your shirt. His gaze flicked between the slow reveal of your body and the exposure of emotion in your expression. As you sat up to allow the final emancipation of the fabric, He quickly unfastened your bra, dragging his fingers over your shoulders and down your arms to expedite the divest. The articles littered the blanket in disregard as you dove together again. He grabbed your thighs, sliding his grip under your ass before yanking you from repose to straddling his lap. He kissed you hard sending your mind reeling and body aching with anticipation. Your head fell back in need of air. He spared no moment, ducking his head to seek the sensitive skin along your neck, kissing lower hands supporting your back. His mouth found the peak of your breast. His tongue flicked the nerves, evoking a gasp of pleasure, your fingers flying into his hair pulling gently as you arched your back, breasts pressing against the heat of his mouth. He moved a hand away, thumb skimming along the inside of your thigh.

“A-ah, wait!” You interrupt on a groan.

“What?” Sam pulled back quickly alarm in his voice, concern trading lust. He searched your face, “What?”

You breathed out an amused chuckle at his considerate reaction. “Protection?”

Realization widened his eyes. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.” You smiled. “Unless you have that, then maybe we should stop.”

His head rolled back with a groan of disappointment. The candid reaction was unusually childish for the serious Sam you knew and you couldn’t help, but giggle at this unseen side.

“I have a condom in my wallet, but it’s probably unsafe.” He admitted reluctantly.

You slid from his lap detangling your bra from the pile of clothes. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah,” He shot you a dazzling sheepish smile, “Sorry.”

You grinned pressing a quick kiss against his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your clothes fell in place just as a group of teenagers broke from the trail into the clearing. You exchanged a guilty look with Sam before laughing at the timing. You laid back on the blanket, head resting next to Sam’s holding your camera precariously over your faces as you clicked through the pictures, explaining excitedly about your favorite aspects in each photo or what your attempted intentions were. When you finished he grabbed the camera and held it awkwardly at arms length, shaking slightly with the weight, and snapped of photo of you together.

[therealestatesparkblog]

How Two 30-Something Twins Achieved FIRE in 5 Years on Rental Income

Spoiler alert: Drew and Scott Hoefler still work today. Except now its by choice. Now in their early 30s, the twins live and invest in the Twin Cities, and a decade ago never even considered a career in real estate. After five years of investing in real estate, they successfully reached financial independence. Heres their story, complete with the mistakes they made along the way. House Hunting, House Hacking In 2013, the twins were single 20-somethings working for agricultural giant Land-O-Lakes, looking to buy their first home. They planned to buy a home with a few bedrooms together, move in, and bring on a roommate or two if the house were big enough. Then, over dinner with their parents one night, their mom offered a better idea: Why dont you buy a two-flat? (Thats Midwest for duplex, FYI.) Teenagers may sneer at every idea their parents have, but in your 20s, you start paying attention once more to your parents advice. We quickly realized that we could live in one side, rent out the other side and cover our mortgage we were all-in. The hunt for the perfect duplex was on!

The (First) Duplex After touring some duds, the twins came across a gem in the Arts District in northeast Minneapolis. They described it as an up and coming neighborhood, which was not a euphemismthe neighborhood was gentrifying with a fun and funky craft beer scene. Then came the first stumbling block. At first look, Drew and I had trouble seeing the lower unit because of issues with the renters. We put our offer in based upon seeing the upstairs unit only. You know where this is going. The downstairs unit needed work, which they discovered after putting the duplex under contract. Luckily, the work was cosmetic, nothing structural or mechanical. Upon buying the property, they non-renewed the tenants, made updates such as removing the drop ceiling, and moved in. The purchase price was $208,000. Our financing was an American Dream program that was an owner-occupied conventional loan financed by U.S. Bank. Great program. We rented the upstairs unit out for $1,300 from day one. That proved enough to cover their mortgage payment. A successful house hack. Nowadays, with further gentrification in the neighborhood, they charge $1,700 for that upstairs unit. Related: Are Your Children Stopping You From Achieving Financial Freedom? Rinsing & Repeating the House Hack When you use owner-occupied financing, you have to live in the property for at least one year. So thats exactly what the Hoefler twins did. Seeing how easy it was to house hack and generate rental income, the twins knew they were onto something. They wanted to expand their portfolio. The first thing they did was look for other ways to lower their expenses, so they could put more of their income aside for their next property. If youve ever read a single sentence about FIRE (financial independence, retiring early), you know that the first rule of FIRE is maximizing your savings and investments. (FIRE Challenge: Start by brainstorming ways to live on half your income!) As they neared the end of their first year of house hacking, they set out to find another multifamily to house hack. They successfully rinsed and repeated this process for several years, living in the property for a year then buying a new multifamily and moving in, with owner-occupied financing. Which is a great way to start, but not a viable long-term strategy. First, its slow. It limits you to a maximum of one property per year. Another problem is that at a certain point, conventional lenders stop lending to you. Most conventional lenders allow a maximum of four mortgages on your credit report. Then theres the fact that you have to move every single year. That gets old, even when youre in your 20sespecially when you get married, and your wife isnt keen to live with your twin brother for the rest of your lives. Which, of course, is exactly what happened. It was around this point that Scott married Jennifer, and this whole hopscotch-investing plan started showing its limitations. Transitions Fortunately for the Hoefler twins, Jennifer instantly saw the appeal of the twins vision. She looked into the FIRE and liked what she saw. With her contributing a third income and the rapidly accruing income from their rentals, Team Hoefler set their sights on 20%-down rental property loans. They picked up two single-family rentals. The first was rented for $1,350, which they bought for $107,000a straightforward enough deal. The second was a small one-bedroom home they picked up for $65,000. Initially, we planned to rent it conventionally at around $900, but while we were doing the turnover updates, we listened to a BiggerPockets episode about Airbnb. Halfway through the hour-long episode I decided to make it into an Urban Cottage and make well over $900/month using the vacation rental platform.

Scaling & Strategy Most of the properties we buy need heavy cosmetic work: paint, cabinets, floors, bathrooms, light fixtures, and so on. We do most of the work ourselves. It helps to be handy! The Hoeflers have also tried their hand at full renovations, though those havent always been smooth (more on that shortly). But typically the Hoeflers follow the BRRRR strategy: buy, renovate, rent, refinance, repeat. They use hard money to finance the acquisition and renovations, then refinance to a 30-year fixed rental property mortgage. Our business model is to find properties that are undervalued from a rental perspective and do heavy cosmetic work to push market value. Or find complete remodels where we can capitalize on the potential ARV (after-repair value). The result? They average around $350-400 monthly net cash flow from each door. Related: Why Financial Freedom Can Be Highly OverratedAnd Not Necessarily Lead to Happiness Missteps Along the Way Our first full remodel was a bust. We had issues with contractors, blew our budget and eventually ended up with an overpriced home that wasnt even completed. We still own the home today, as a rental with minimal cash flow. The good news? Our saving grace is that we went into the project with plenty of backdoor options. The property is in a fantastic neighborhood, which has been seeing solid growth. We knew that the rental market would be strong enough to at least break even. I asked the Hoeflers about what they learned from the experience. The main lesson (among many others) is Do not make decisions based on need. At a certain point we realized we were in over our heads, and we failed to think through our options and the long-term consequences of our decisions. We were making emotional decisions based on our current sense of need. Reaching FIRE & The Ever-After The stability that real estate investing has brought to our lives meant we have been free to change careers, build businesses, travel, and ultimately give back in ways we never thought possible. The twins quit their day jobs, but they found they loved investing in real estate enough to keep going. Today, they sell small multifamily properties to other investors in the Twin Cities, through a company called The Duplex Doctors. Why retire when youre having so much fun making money? Altogether, along with my wife Jenny and my brother Drew, we own eight total properties with 14 doors. We are about to close on another four properties with seven doors. I asked Scott about his final words of advice for anyone looking to reach FIRE through rental properties. Sit down and think through your why for purchasing real estate. Everyone says money at first. But to be truly successful in this industry, you need a deeper reason than just the desire to make money. So? Whats your why, Scott? For me, my time is my most valuable resource. My hope is that real estate will allow me the capacity to give back to this world in ways a standard 9-5 job cant. Its hard to argue with that.

Interested in FIRE from real estate? Whats your why? How are you approaching the journey to FIRE, and what are your questions along the way? Weigh in with a comment! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/fire-in-5-years-on-rental-income

[therealestatesparkblog]

How Two 30-Something Twins Achieved FIRE in 5 Years on Rental Income

Spoiler alert: Drew and Scott Hoefler still work today. Except now its by choice. Now in their early 30s, the twins live and invest in the Twin Cities, and a decade ago never even considered a career in real estate. After five years of investing in real estate, they successfully reached financial independence. Heres their story, complete with the mistakes they made along the way. House Hunting, House Hacking In 2013, the twins were single 20-somethings working for agricultural giant Land-O-Lakes, looking to buy their first home. They planned to buy a home with a few bedrooms together, move in, and bring on a roommate or two if the house were big enough. Then, over dinner with their parents one night, their mom offered a better idea: Why dont you buy a two-flat? (Thats Midwest for duplex, FYI.) Teenagers may sneer at every idea their parents have, but in your 20s, you start paying attention once more to your parents advice. We quickly realized that we could live in one side, rent out the other side and cover our mortgage we were all-in. The hunt for the perfect duplex was on!

The (First) Duplex After touring some duds, the twins came across a gem in the Arts District in northeast Minneapolis. They described it as an up and coming neighborhood, which was not a euphemismthe neighborhood was gentrifying with a fun and funky craft beer scene. Then came the first stumbling block. At first look, Drew and I had trouble seeing the lower unit because of issues with the renters. We put our offer in based upon seeing the upstairs unit only. You know where this is going. The downstairs unit needed work, which they discovered after putting the duplex under contract. Luckily, the work was cosmetic, nothing structural or mechanical. Upon buying the property, they non-renewed the tenants, made updates such as removing the drop ceiling, and moved in. The purchase price was $208,000. Our financing was an American Dream program that was an owner-occupied conventional loan financed by U.S. Bank. Great program. We rented the upstairs unit out for $1,300 from day one. That proved enough to cover their mortgage payment. A successful house hack. Nowadays, with further gentrification in the neighborhood, they charge $1,700 for that upstairs unit. Related: Are Your Children Stopping You From Achieving Financial Freedom? Rinsing & Repeating the House Hack When you use owner-occupied financing, you have to live in the property for at least one year. So thats exactly what the Hoefler twins did. Seeing how easy it was to house hack and generate rental income, the twins knew they were onto something. They wanted to expand their portfolio. The first thing they did was look for other ways to lower their expenses, so they could put more of their income aside for their next property. If youve ever read a single sentence about FIRE (financial independence, retiring early), you know that the first rule of FIRE is maximizing your savings and investments. (FIRE Challenge: Start by brainstorming ways to live on half your income!) As they neared the end of their first year of house hacking, they set out to find another multifamily to house hack. They successfully rinsed and repeated this process for several years, living in the property for a year then buying a new multifamily and moving in, with owner-occupied financing. Which is a great way to start, but not a viable long-term strategy. First, its slow. It limits you to a maximum of one property per year. Another problem is that at a certain point, conventional lenders stop lending to you. Most conventional lenders allow a maximum of four mortgages on your credit report. Then theres the fact that you have to move every single year. That gets old, even when youre in your 20sespecially when you get married, and your wife isnt keen to live with your twin brother for the rest of your lives. Which, of course, is exactly what happened. It was around this point that Scott married Jennifer, and this whole hopscotch-investing plan started showing its limitations. Transitions Fortunately for the Hoefler twins, Jennifer instantly saw the appeal of the twins vision. She looked into the FIRE and liked what she saw. With her contributing a third income and the rapidly accruing income from their rentals, Team Hoefler set their sights on 20%-down rental property loans. They picked up two single-family rentals. The first was rented for $1,350, which they bought for $107,000a straightforward enough deal. The second was a small one-bedroom home they picked up for $65,000. Initially, we planned to rent it conventionally at around $900, but while we were doing the turnover updates, we listened to a BiggerPockets episode about Airbnb. Halfway through the hour-long episode I decided to make it into an Urban Cottage and make well over $900/month using the vacation rental platform.

Scaling & Strategy Most of the properties we buy need heavy cosmetic work: paint, cabinets, floors, bathrooms, light fixtures, and so on. We do most of the work ourselves. It helps to be handy! The Hoeflers have also tried their hand at full renovations, though those havent always been smooth (more on that shortly). But typically the Hoeflers follow the BRRRR strategy: buy, renovate, rent, refinance, repeat. They use hard money to finance the acquisition and renovations, then refinance to a 30-year fixed rental property mortgage. Our business model is to find properties that are undervalued from a rental perspective and do heavy cosmetic work to push market value. Or find complete remodels where we can capitalize on the potential ARV (after-repair value). The result? They average around $350-400 monthly net cash flow from each door. Related: Why Financial Freedom Can Be Highly OverratedAnd Not Necessarily Lead to Happiness Missteps Along the Way Our first full remodel was a bust. We had issues with contractors, blew our budget and eventually ended up with an overpriced home that wasnt even completed. We still own the home today, as a rental with minimal cash flow. The good news? Our saving grace is that we went into the project with plenty of backdoor options. The property is in a fantastic neighborhood, which has been seeing solid growth. We knew that the rental market would be strong enough to at least break even. I asked the Hoeflers about what they learned from the experience. The main lesson (among many others) is Do not make decisions based on need. At a certain point we realized we were in over our heads, and we failed to think through our options and the long-term consequences of our decisions. We were making emotional decisions based on our current sense of need. Reaching FIRE & The Ever-After The stability that real estate investing has brought to our lives meant we have been free to change careers, build businesses, travel, and ultimately give back in ways we never thought possible. The twins quit their day jobs, but they found they loved investing in real estate enough to keep going. Today, they sell small multifamily properties to other investors in the Twin Cities, through a company called The Duplex Doctors. Why retire when youre having so much fun making money? Altogether, along with my wife Jenny and my brother Drew, we own eight total properties with 14 doors. We are about to close on another four properties with seven doors. I asked Scott about his final words of advice for anyone looking to reach FIRE through rental properties. Sit down and think through your why for purchasing real estate. Everyone says money at first. But to be truly successful in this industry, you need a deeper reason than just the desire to make money. So? Whats your why, Scott? For me, my time is my most valuable resource. My hope is that real estate will allow me the capacity to give back to this world in ways a standard 9-5 job cant. Its hard to argue with that.

Interested in FIRE from real estate? Whats your why? How are you approaching the journey to FIRE, and what are your questions along the way? Weigh in with a comment! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/fire-in-5-years-on-rental-income