#NoeWIP
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nkealspen.bsky.social
#WIP #JohnSoapMacTavish #KyleGazGarrick #NoeWIP
August 23, 2026 at 2:12 PM
nkealspen.bsky.social
#WIPWednesday
#NoeWIP
#WIP
August 6, 2026 at 1:58 AM
nkealspen.bsky.social
I wonder what Simon said? #WIP #NoeWIP #BottomGhostWeek2026
[Writer's Block, release me, please]
"Wait. Yer Serious. Ye've nev- Ye cannae... I... BUT YER PURE BRAW SIMON" The Scot is spiralling. Or John MacTavish is having a bad time with some news Simon has shared. The Poor Lad.
August 26, 2026 at 5:27 PM
nkealspen.bsky.social
(1/10)
#WednesdayWIP #NoeWIP
#SimonGhostRiley Mentions of #JohnSoapMacTavish
[I'm very excited about this. Please note the tags :) ]
[📝🥀🪖💀🕊️]
~
The blade in his hand weighs heavier with every step he takes. The grease paint smeared across his eyes haphazardly looks
August 13, 2026 at 1:27 AM
nkealspen.bsky.social
#WIP #SimonGhostRiley #ComfortInSilence #Ao3 #NoeWIP
This is unedited. Hoping working on something else triggers my brain into working on BGW like I want to. :)
A chapter of this is long overdue.
WIP for the next chapter of Comfort In Silence by NoeBody_NoeSoul It reads: Simon’s hands are covered in blood, but it doesn’t stick. The electricity coursing through his body hitting him full force like a punch to the gut. Sharp burning kinds of pain erupt from every overstimulated nerve as his hand instinctually grips the wire tighter, muscles unable to relax enough to let go. Somewhere through the pain, he feels both shoulders dislocate as his knees give out just enough to retch his body down towards the ground a few feet more. He hears a shot ring out somewhere below him, and another, and another. He hears himself scream once, on impact, and then his vision starts to swim. His heart skips before kicking into overdrive as it races at the current running through his spine and makes his legs go numb. The hands on his waist barely register as his body is pulled down so he’s hanging upside down. Those same hands move to his mask, pulling it off of his face just enough to expose his mouth and nose. The smell of burning flesh is acrid and familiar. His ears are ringing, something in his gut is sloshing around and it feels like his brain is melting. He feels weightless for a moment, then the pressure stops, the burning fades minutely and his mind falls into what could only be described as a drowning silence. He barely feels the voltage anymore.
August 28, 2026 at 7:18 PM