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[ct-hardcase]

Hey guys, friendly reminder that job interviews are psychological mind games and you should not be truthful and instead arm yourself with Important but Not Easily Verifiable Lies and practice delivering them until they're off the cuff.

- If someone asks for weaknesses, they're not really looking for weaknesses! They're looking for a combination of self-awareness and indications of self-improvement. Don't say "I'm bad at time management" and just leave it there. Imply that's in the past tense and talk about all the stuff you did to get good at it. Follow up each weakness with some bs answer on what you're doing to address it

- When I say like, Not Easily Verifiable Lies, I mean like, obviously don't make up shit wholesale, but like. If someone asks you your 5 year plan, they can't PROVE you're lying if you say "Oh I want to be the head of my own department, I want to be supervising my own team, etc" other corporate ladder shit. What they don't wanna hear is "Uhhhh idk" EVEN IF IT'S TRUE AND VALID. They can't disprove that you love working with customers to find cost effective solutions. What they CAN do is feel suspicious about how much you mean what you say, which is why practicing until you can make that shit sound natural is important

- (With that specific example of where you wanna be though, be careful lmao. If they think you plan on using them as a stepping stone before moving on, they might question the value of hiring you since they'd just have to start the process over again. Try to strike the right tone of "I want to succeed and grow with the tools you give me, of which there is surely an abundance")

- I can see when you are reading off another screen. It's very visible. If you're gonna do chatgpt shit to come up with answers at least do me the courtesy of keeping the window leveled wherever my face would be on the screen so it looks like you're staring at me the whole time

- Do not talk about how your last company sucked. It's a company. Of course it sucked. This company you're applying for probably sucks just as much if not much worse. Even if you're leaving your company because your boss spends every day attacking you with throwing stars, make up a different reason. Preferably something about seeking growth or some shit

- If you can't think of a reason as to why you'd be excited to join a particular company (and let's be real. Why the fuck would you literally ever), find something else to feign excitement over. "I saw that this new role has X responsibility which I never got to do, but always wanted to learn" or "I saw that you were planning on opening two new branches and I've always wanted to be involved in the growth of blahblahblah vomit". It doesn't have to be true, man. On that note

- Google the company. Look up what they do. Look in the news. You don't have to be able to recite a complete company history or anything but it helps to kow What They Do. "This one seems really obv--" YOU'D BE SURPRISED. If they don't ask you outright what you know about the company, bring up something you learned when it's time for you to ask your questions.

- Have questions to ask, btw. But these are not mere questions of curiosity! Because, again, who could possibly give a shit about their practices and whatnot!! These are instead opportunities for you to show off how diligent you are and tell more anecdotes about what a great employee you would be. "Oh, I had a follow up question about the software you use! When I was training my coworkers how to use this, I came across this issue a number of times, how did you guys deal with that? I did X but that solution probably wouldn't scale for a department your size" <- Okay stop yawning and look. See how nobody gives a shit but now you can brag about knowing it so well you taught others, identified solutions, and recognized the limitations of those solutions? Bragging opportunity.

- You know that archetype of person who only ever talks about themselves and how great they are and everything you bring up only serves as a platform for them to talk about themselves? That is kind of what a job interview is.

"This sounds miserable!" It is!!! People who do this well are worms who have gained extensive experience in stuffing their faces into the excrement of hiring managers. If you're having a good time you're doing it wrong or YOU'RE WEIRD

"But even after doing all that work, I still might not even get the job?" Yes!!!!!! It sucks!!!!!! The goal is to minimize what qualms a person may have and present yourself as a specialized tool for their problems, which is why it helps to know what those problems are. "But that sucks!" NOTHING ABOUT THIS PROCESS DOESN'T SUCK, INCLUDING SUCCESS

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✍️ more fic writer asks!

reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!

the last sentence you wrote

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your preferred writing fonts

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

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talk about your writing and editing process

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no actually i do think its rly cool that if ur a 40 yr old man running a blog full of stolen transfem nudes ull never get deleted but if ur a transfem urself then if u show 2 much skin in a selfie then ull get nuked from fucking orbit. thats rly cool actually

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just got caught up with the acolyte so take some jecki sketches

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THIS IS TOO MUCH 💀😂

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@maileeweek day 5: secret relationship

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finally finished this piece that's been giving me grief for a while, just in time for the final day of @maileeweek [insert mitski lyrics here]

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Kanera + Western AU, please!

This one. Got a little out of hand. Also this ficlet and this one are both low key predecessors to this, only I didn't know it at the time I wrote them. Enjoy!

“We’re being followed.”

Hera looked up from where she was pulling her canteen free from her saddle, glancing back at Kanan. Her gunslinger companion had pulled his horse to a dead stop, and was twisted around in the saddle, staring back at the road behind them where three pinpricks of black were growing steadily larger.

“I know,” she told him, and he turned to face her again, eyebrows lifting incredulously.

“And you didn’t think to mention it? No, hang on—you didn’t think to worry about it?”

Hera had to smile at his expression. “You know, you’re not really living up to your reputation as a reckless gunslinger.”

“There’s a difference,” Kanan said, “between reckless and careless. One of them gets us killed. The other one…only maybe gets us killed.”

“Then let’s hope I’m the right one,” Hera quipped. Taking a drink from her canteen, she recapped it and said, “There’s a town coming up here in a few miles. We’ll stop there for the night.”

As she nudged Ghost into a steady walk, she listened for the matching sound of hooves behind her. It came a few heartbeats later, and Kanan quickly caught up with her. “You know that if we stop soon, they’ll catch up with us,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and she could see him watching her as their horses moved in tandem.

Not bad, gunslinger. “I do know that,” Hera agreed, keeping her voice low. “That’s what I’m counting on.” She saw his eyes widen, and smiled. “Reckless, not careless, right?”

Slowly, he grinned back. “Okay, Captain. I’ll follow your lead.”

The next town they stopped in was Amalo—a jumbled clutter of buildings and streetcars and homes, all stacked around the river. Hera led them confidently through the web of streets to an inn where they bought a room for the night. They stopped only for dinner in the restaurant below the rooms before they retired for the evening. All the time pretending to be unaware of the black clad figures that had shadowed them through the city and to the inn where they were staying.

That night, Hera was woken from a peaceful sleep by a slight creak. Eyes snapping open, she deliberately kept her breathing even, didn’t stir from her spot in her surprisingly comfortable bed. Instead, she waited, and listened for footsteps.

But she didn’t hear anything, not until a pistol cocked and Kanan’s steady voice rang out, low but tight with emotion. “Move, and I’m gonna have to pay double the price for the mess you leave in the room.”

Shooting upright, Hera pulled her own pistol out from under her pillow. Shoving aside her blankets under which she was still fully dressed, she fumbled for matches with her free hand.

The flare of light illuminated very little, but the candle she lit helped. Kanan, who’d tucked himself into the closet in the far corner of the room to wait for their guests, now stood in the middle of the room. In his long coat, he looked decidedly ominous, and the gun he had pressed to the back of the intruder’s head didn’t help.

But Hera turned her attention to the intruder quickly. He was a broad man, dressed in all black, his face scarred. He scowled at her fiercely, though the intimidation factor was slightly undercut by the strangely shaped hat he wore. “You’re pretty good at your job,” Hera told him coolly. “The door hinge was the only thing that gave you away. Moving silently in rooms like these isn’t easy.”

The man didn’t respond, and Hera frowned as she studied him for a moment longer. No guns. Instead, the man wore a bandolier of knives, along with a few more strapped to his waist, and a long machete.

Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You’re no ordinary bandit, are you?”

“I don’t answer questions for the likes of you two,” the man growled, spitting on the ground.

“You’re going to have to,” Hera told him. “Unless you want to die. Where are your friends?”

The man smiled, suddenly and savagely. “Where you’ll never find them, until it’s too late. The Inquisitorus will always prevail.” Jerking a hand at Kanan, he said, “This one knows. Don’t you, boy? Our boss has a special plan for you—”

Kanan moved, pulling his other pistol. Heart stuttering in her chest, Hera started to snap out a protest—but all he did was slam the butt of the gun into the other man’s temple. He crumpled, and Hera instinctively moved forward to catch him, stumbling under the weight. Kanan moved to help her, and they dumped the man’s unconscious form onto the bed.

Then, finally, Hera turned to face Kanan. “What was that?” she demanded, too shocked to keep her voice low.

“We’re in trouble,” Kanan replied, grimly. “If he’s with the Inquisitorus—”

“What does that mean? And how does he know anything about you?”

“They’re assassins,” Kanan told her, spitting out the word. “Killers, who don’t work for money. They go after the targets their leader designates for them, and they don’t do it quickly or cleanly. I’ve…dealt with them in the past.”

Hera could hear the evasion in his voice, along with a hint of pain. But now was not the time to interrogate him. “Then we need to go,” she said, and Kanan nodded.

“Yeah. But not out the front door. Odds are, this guy’s friends are downstairs. Probably watching the front door, maybe even the street.”

Kriff. Hera nodded, taking a slow breath as she looked around the room. There wasn’t much. Wardrobe in a corner, chair and table across from it. There was only one bed, where the unconscious assassin now lay, and some of their essential belongings sat on the table near the window—

The window. Hera looked at Kanan. “Would they have covered the rooftops?” she asked quietly.

His eyes widened, and then his gunslinger grin flashed across his face. “Not bad, Captain Hera.”

Moving quickly, they were packed up in a matter of moments, bags slung over their shoulders, wearing coats, hats, and boots. Hera slung her rifle over her shoulder, then slowly eased the window open as Kanan used the sheets of the bed to tie up and gag the assassin. “Anything that slows him down,” he said with a shrug.

Checking out the window, Hera glanced down at the alley below them. It was empty, to her relief, but she saw movement out on the main street. Another assassin, or just a townsperson?

Either way, it didn’t matter. They had to move.

Kanan slipped out the window first, standing on the sill and hoisting himself up and out. Hera followed, taking slow, silent breaths of the cool night air. She saw Kanan waiting above her, and he reached out a gloved hand.

She took him, and he hauled her up onto the roof with a quick, easy pull. Hera held onto him for a minute longer, catching her balance on the tilted roof. Releasing him, she said softly, “We need to get to the stables.”

Kanan nodded, gaze already skating across the rooftops, mapping their way back to the nearby stables where they’d rented two stalls for Ghost and Dume. “Follow me.”

They started onward, keeping low, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Luckily, Amalo was a crowded town, buildings packed tightly together, and it was easy enough to keep moving. After they were a few blocks away from the inn, they dropped down from the roof, and made their way through the narrow, winding alleys between buildings.

As they drew closer to the stables, Hera’s tension began to ease. Almost there, she thought as they slipped through an alley that would lead them straight to the entrance of the stables. Just a little farther, and we’ll—

Ahead of her, Kanan stopped dead. Oh, great. Keeping her steps slow, Hera moved up to his side. He turned to face her, sea-colored eyes serious in the moonlight, and tapped a finger to his lips, then pointed.

Hera followed his gesture to where a black clad figure stood outside the stables. In one hand, they held a long blade. Another assassin. What now?

But Kanan was already moving. Bending, he grabbed a stone—a loose piece of brick, fallen free from the building next to them—and threw, letting it clatter into the wall on the other side of the street.

The assassin jerked, turning toward it, blade lifting. Hera could see the moment when they decided to stay put, and turned back to their post—only to come face to face with Kanan. The gunslinger had crossed the space between them in four long, silent strides, and cracked the butt of his gun right between the assassin’s eyes. The assassin folded, and Kanan caught hold of their sword as they hit the ground, preventing any sound louder than a soft thump.

Not bad, Hera thought, starting across the street with a quick glance both ways. In truth, it was more than just that. Tactical, quick thinking—every day seemed to offer Hera more proof that her hired gunslinger was more than just that.

There was so much of his story she didn’t know. And Hera found herself wanting to know more and more of it all the time.

She reached Kanan just as he holstered his pistol. For a moment, he held onto the sword he’d taken from the assassin, hefting it a little in one hand. Then he set it down carefully next to the assassin, and they started into the stable.

Ghost and Dume were waiting for them, saddles off to the side, and they had them ready in minutes. They led the horses out, and put a block between them and the stable before they both swung into their saddles. Hera took the lead, made her way straight to the main road that would lead them out of town, and ten minutes later, Amalo was receding in the distance behind them.

From there, it was a long, hard ride through the night. The assassins had allowed them a few hours of sleep before they struck, and Hera and Kanan had been up late that night anyway, preparing for their arrival. Hera was deeply grateful for what Kanan had teasingly called her paranoia—paying their stable and room bill ahead of time, stocking up on all their supplies that night, and keeping their guns with them that night. Though, even after knowing him for only a few weeks, she knew he liked to be prepared, as well. Always on the ready, in case of…what?

Maybe the Inquisitorus, she thought, risking a fleeting glance at her companion. His face was serious, his free hand resting close to his pistols. Clearly, he thought it wouldn’t be long before there was some pursuit.

Thinking of the evil sneer the assassin in their room had worn, Hera couldn’t blame him.

So they kept going. Rode as the moon rose, then fell, sinking behind the horizon and leaving them to pick their way down a road in the dim light of pre-dawn. Hera could feel the hours wearing on her, but she’d lasted through far worse than this in her time.

Eventually, the sun rose. It had barely pulled itself free of the horizon when Kanan had them stop. The horses needed rest, he pointed out, and Hera probably wouldn’t have accepted any other excuse. But Ghost and Dume were clearly worn out, and that was far more dangerous than it was for her to be so tired.

So they moved off the road, into a little copse of trees that sheltered them from sight, and stopped to rest. After getting the horses settled, Kanan started pulling supplies out of his saddle bag. “I’m making coffee,” he told Hera, and she lifted an eyebrow at him. “If the Inquisitors find us because of one fire, they’re welcome to join us for a cup.”

Hera snorted with amusement, but helped him start the small fire all the same. They worked in silence for a long time, and it wasn’t until the coffee was settled above the fire and Kanan was sorting through their supplies for breakfast when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Hera glanced up from the map she’d been studying, surprised. “What?”

A grimace twisted Kanan’s mouth, his gaze fixed on his task. The expression he wore was far more serious than she usually saw him, unless they were in a near death experience of some kind. “The Inquisitors. They’re most likely here because of me.”

Hera’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay, I think you’d better tell me exactly who we’re dealing with here.”

A sigh lifted Kanan’s shoulders as he set a few pieces of travel bread on the coals to cook. “The Inquisitors…they’re trained by the best. Professional fighters who’ve turned their skills to assassin work. But they’re only loyal to their boss. The Grand Inquisitor. And by extension, his employers. They don’t do it for money, which means they can’t be bribed, or appealed to.” He was silent for a moment, then looked up at her. “And they killed my mother.”

Hera’s breath caught in her chest. Oh, Force. She knew that feeling, the sadness in Kanan’s eyes. “She wasn’t the only one,” he continued. “But I…I escaped. And I’ve been waiting for them to find me for seven years, and now—”

“Now you think they’ve caught up with you,” Hera finished.

Kanan let out a raw-edged laugh. “It sure seems that way. I had no idea…well, this is a first for me. I’ve taken jobs before, and now…” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hera. I don’t know what they’re going to do, if they’ll leave you alone, or—”

“Hey,” Hera said, impulsively reaching out and putting a hand on his arm. “That’s not on you. None of this is.” She paused, a question tugging at the edge of her mind. “You said that the Grand Inquisitor has an employer. Who is it?”

“Who do you think?” Kanan said wryly. “Empire Railway.”

Of course. At this point, she couldn’t really claim to be surprised that they had their own personal death squad. She wondered why they’d targeted Kanan’s family, if they’d just been in the way or if it had been something else.

But those questions could wait. Right now, she had some questions to answer. “Okay,” she said, sitting back. “You know how I’ve been a little…cagey about what exactly I’m hiring you for?”

Kanan flicked her a sideways glance and half a grin. “Oh, have you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You signed on anyways,” Hera pointed out, but she still felt herself smiling. “Well. That’s because I may have…made a little noise in the towns I passed through before I met you.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kanan said, “Meaning?”

“Meaning Empire Railways has just as many reasons to want me dead as you,” Hera said bluntly, and his eyebrows shot up. “Possibly more.”

“More? What did you do?”

Hera shrugged. “Picked a few fights. Blew up one small building. And before I struck out on my own, my father…well, he was in the army at one point—”

Kanan, who’d been watching her with his mouth half open, snapped his fingers, face lighting up. “Ah-ha! I knew there was something military about you.”

“Yes, you’re very smart, dear,” Hera said. “He taught me a lot, and he’s currently running a militia in the south that is dedicated to keeping out Empire Railways at all cost. Any cost. So…you’re not the only one with a price on your head. And it’s more likely to be my fault than yours.” Hera paused, then said, “I should have been straight with you from the start. Truth be told, I didn’t expect you to stick around after the Vidian job, but…”

“Here I am,” Kanan said.

“Here you are,” Hera repeated.

They were both silent for a long moment. Nearby, a bird was announcing the dawn with loud, cheerful chirps. Finally, Kanan let out a sigh, and started to pour them coffee.

“Well, if I’m going to be an outlaw, I’m going to want a better idea of what the plan is.”

“I prefer the term rebel,” Hera said, a smile crossing her face. “So you’re sticking around?”

Kanan shrugged, passing her a tin cup full of coffee. “I’d rather be chased by the Inquisitorus with you than on my own. I’ll stay until you kick me out.” He gave her a smile, the real one without any cocky charm, and settled back with his own cup of coffee.

“That’s not going to happen any time soon,” Hera told him, plucking one of the slightly charred pieces of bread from the coals. As Kanan passed her a small container of honey, she said, “The plan needs a little work. But overall? Harass Empire Railway until they finally back off.”

“Solid idea,” Kanan said, dipping his bread into his coffee. He frowned, tapping it against the rim of the mug thoughtfully. “We’re going to need some backup, though.”

“We are,” Hera agreed, frowning. Memories flashed through her mind, of another job she’d run years ago. “I might have some.”

“Me, too,” Kanan said. “Where’s yours?”

“Bounty hunting. Where’s yours?”

Kanan grinned, and this time it was the gunslinger look. Hera found that she liked both of his smiles. The devilish delight of this one made up for the lack of gentle warmth she saw in the other. “You ever heard of Koboh?”

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Someone should publish a pronunciation guide for bookish children with words like boatswain, victuals, epitome and so forth. It could probably just be a slim pamphlet, but it would save a lot of nerds a lot of embarrassment down the line.

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i have a youtube video about the use of jumpscares in horror games playing in the background while I work, and it reminded me of the single worst jumpscare i've ever experienced, which happened while I was playing a little game I like to call... Google Maps. (you play Google Maps by turning on street view, zooming in to somewhere that looks interesting, and clicking on any 360 photo views that people might have uploaded. i have spent many hours of my life playing Google Maps)

Anyway, spin this guy around to see something that legitimately made me jump so hard that I damn near threw my drink across the room

(more info under the cut if you're worried about what you'll see)

there's a fish very close to the camera

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I know I've said it a million times before but getting to see Kanan and Ezra's improvement as a team at the beginning of Shroud of Darkness is fantastic and really gives an almost tcw-esque vibe to the duel.

One of my (few) criticisms from before is—for all that Seventh and Fifth banter with one another—they pretty much shut that off for this battle (though I do think it speaks to them thinking of Kanan and Ezra as a serious threat). However, upon this rewatch, I actually think it makes sense.

The only time those two banter with each other in front of an enemy is in front of Ezra and Sabine, who at the time they thought were going to die pretty much immediately after, whereas in front of other imperials, or cases like Future of the Force, one may banter/needle at the allies or enemies (Fifth and Seventh respectively) but never at each other; they present a united front in front of seemingly anyone they distrust.

I don't mean to be all "their banter or disagreement with one another is a love language" but it's definitely an expression of trust and honesty they don't really do around others. Even Eighth doesn't really get that from them, but they're in full business mode on Malachor.

Also, clearly their teamwork—though put-upon for others to the extent they do—is not fake. you don't get smiles at each other's dialogue and knowing what comes next from fake.

I certainly think it's conditional, but there very much is a dynamic between the two of them that I don't think I'm reading out of nothing, and it's a dynamic neither seem to share with the other inquisitors (though I'll see wrt Fifth once I get to OWK).

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seventh and fifth are just fun to watch as a pair and idec if it’s because I ship them, but the way they coordinate without talking speaks of them having been frequent partners in battle

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I don't remember if I went through it on tumblr or not but sometime in June it hit me like a lightning strike that I'd done what I swore up and down not to do over the years and over-fandomized Eighth and got too attached to the headcanons I'd created for him at the expense of canon, so in order to remedy my getting too bogged down in fanon, I'm revisiting the source material. I used to do this more often, but fortunately, it's become a lot more of an undertaking recently, so it's going to take a while

Got through the Inquisitor-centric episodes of swr in an attempt at a Complete Inquisitor Review (which will also include me finally watching the ahsoka show) and ngl though I thought I'd be squeezing blood from a stone I had some thoughts, so I might share them here if I compile them into text post format

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Got through the Inquisitor-centric episodes of swr in an attempt at a Complete Inquisitor Review (which will also include me finally watching the ahsoka show) and ngl though I thought I'd be squeezing blood from a stone I had some thoughts, so I might share them here if I compile them into text post format

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prairie glory 🌞🌾

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Trilla taking a quiet moment

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forgot to post Mizu from couple of months ago here!! she was also in drafts for lloooonnggg