#i just like creating and organizing things and throwing out random ideas once in a while and disappearing the next second

[alchemiclee]

what if I made a discord server for star rail and genshin fans to come join me and be friends and post silly things to make each other laugh and play silly little games like themed gartic phone and stuff and maybe do cute projects together

[jojo-oliver]

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

[writingquestionsanswered]

ADHD & Starting a New WIP

Anonymous asked: i've been using chatgpt to avoid clogging your inbox, but it wasn't much helpful since it sent me in loops. I remember you writing about having ADHD which is why I felt you were qualified to answer this.

Please never worry about clogging my inbox... I'll get to everything in time. ♥ And yes, I do have ADHD, so here goes...

I have a problem that is more relevant to my autism/adhd: choice paralysis and indecisiveness. It is impacting my writing too much. No matter what advice I read, nothing is helping. I can't come up with/decide on a plot. I don't have a "feeling" like I used to anymore to just go with something. My brain HAS to explore EVERY option before deciding. There's just too much power in creating a story, and I don't think I can handle it. Do you have any tips to handle this indecisiveness and just actually do something? Do you mind sharing your own process when you start a brand new WIP and the only characterisation you have is "This is John, he wants to be a writer" and nothing else?

[Ask was edited for length...]

Dealing with Indecisiveness and Competing Ideas

Step 1 - Get Everything Out - Start with a brainstorming session and get all the ideas out on paper. All of those "explore every option" ideas... write them all down. Write down ideas until you can't think of anything else to write.

Step 2 - Take Stock - Next, count up all your ideas and organize them if need be... for example, if some of the ideas are related to character but others are related to setting, group them into their specific groups. Then, count up how many ideas you have in each group. Like, 17 character ideas, 10 world ideas, 4 plot ideas.

Step 3 - Eliminate by Half - I find it very helpful to eliminate my ideas by half just as a disciplinary means of keeping things in check. So, I would need to eliminate 7 or 8 character ideas, 5 world ideas, and 2 plot ideas. This is hard but it has to be hard. The point is to force yourself to not overthink it. Set a timer for a minute if you have to and say that you have to circle 8 character ideas before the timer goes off. Any ideas that aren't circled by the time the buzzer goes off will not be considered. Again, it's harsh, but for me it works.

Step 4 - Save the Ideas You Eliminate - This is KEY. Having a notebook or document where you save discarded ideas makes it easier to eliminate them because you don't feel like you're throwing them out. You're just saving them for later to be recycled for future projects.

Step 5 - Play Around a Bit - Look at your remaining ideas... let's say the 8 character ideas... is there anything you can discard right off the top? Are there any ideas that thrill you more than the others? Can any ideas be combined somehow? Can any of these ideas easily be fleshed out a little further?

Step 6 - Eliminate by Half Again and Again- The idea above is to try to condense things by combining ideas and/or seeing which ideas speak to you and which really don't. Take those 8 character ideas and narrow them down to 4. Set the timer again if you have to. Then, do it again until you have only two ideas.

Step 7 - Look at Pros/Cons - Now it comes down to picking between two ideas. Do a pro/con list for each. Does one idea thrill you more? Is one idea more fleshed out? Does one idea require more research? Does one idea feel too close to a previous story? Once you have a pro/con list for each idea, you can see which idea is probably better. And, once again, the idea that isn't used goes into the document to be saved for later.

Starting a Brand New WIP with ADHD

My process is always a little bit different, but I do usually start with a brainstorming session where I just write down all the random ideas I have. From there, I narrow things down (using the above method) to just the ideas I want to move forward with, then I usually free write a general summary of the story as I see it playing out in that moment. Depending on the idea, this can be just a couple vague paragraphs or it can be pages of detailed events. Either way, having some idea of the beginning to end story is important. Once I know the needs of the story, I can start to think more about the characters and their needs based on the story. This is where it's pretty essential to understand things like Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories, Understanding Goals and Conflict, Basic Story Structure, and How to Move a Story Forward. The more I know about the needs of my story (the story conflict, my character's goal, who or what stands against them, etc.) the easier it is to flesh out the story. I'm a planner, so from there I will usually draw out a general timeline and a scene list, but some writers may find it easier to just start writing from here.

Three of the biggest game changers for me--which honestly I still struggle with sometimes--are:

-- Setting up a routine: having a specific time, place, and duration to write. Even if it's sitting on my bed for ten minutes in the morning to write. Just having something set makes a difference.

-- Eliminating Distractions: no phone, no TV, no music with lyrics, no internet, nothing that will draw my attention away from writing.

-- Good Vibes Only: I'm not a fan of toxic positivity, but negativity and self-criticism will surely take the wind out of your writing sails. I try to give myself small, reachable goals, but if I don't reach them or don't feel like writing on a given day, I don't beat myself up about it. Instead, I try to find something fun to do that's related to my story, like saving pictures for a mood board or auditioning songs for a playlist. That positive reinforcement (and sense of accomplishment for moving the needle forward in some way) keeps writing from becoming something I dread, and that positivity will hopefully follow me into the next day and help me to write.

I hope that helps!!! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[jarlsthegreat]

I found an old Google Doc from when I was fourteen full of Incorrect Quotes with Jeff, Jane, Nina and Liu and I think they deserve to be seen

Nina: I’ve organized your messages into three categories. 

Nina: “From Jane” 

Nina: “Death Threats” 

Nina: and “Death Threats From Jane”

Jane: I just wanted to say that over the years, I have come to regard you as… people I met.

Jane: That's a nice argument, Jeff Why don't you back it up with a source? 

Jeff: My source is that I made it the fuck up!

Nina, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB? 

Liu: Bold of you to assume I was born at all. 

Jane: I personally was created in a lab. 

Jeff: I just straight up spawned lol.

Jane: How has life been treating you lately? 

Jeff: Horribly.

Jeff: What must it be like to live in your head? Are there happy ponies in there? It’s really something how utterly delusional your optimism is. If I didn’t hate you so much, I might even be impressed. 

Nina: Huzzah! I got a heavily qualified and slightly sarcastic compliment from Jeff!

Nina: Where have you been all day? 

Liu: Oh, just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level.

Jane: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something! 

Liu: You left me, Jeff, and Nina in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago. 

Jane: I did that on purpose, try again.

Kidnapper: We have your child 

Jane: I don’t have a child?

Kidnapper: Then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwich? 

Jane: Oh god, you have Nina

Jane: Love makes people do stupid things. 

Nina: I love everything! 

Jane: That explains a lot.

Jane: As you know I keep a list of all my friends in order of how likely they are to betray me. 

Liu: Where am I on the list? 

Jane: Well I can’t tell you that because then you’ll quickly move up or down depending on your reaction.

Jeff, texting: Nina, will you please go to sleep? 

Nina, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? 

Jeff, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! 

Jeff, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? 

Nina, texting: I’m trying 

Jeff, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH 

Jeff, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

Jeff: What is this!? 

Liu: That’s the weight of guilt. Give in to the nice side. Help those unfortunate, and make the guilt go away, my friend. 

Jeff: Ow! Make it stop! 

Liu: Surrender to your kindness, Jeff. It’s nice to be nice. 

Jeff: Your guilt is strong, my friend. But it is no match for the power of my selfishness!

Liu: If I die, you can have what little I own. 

Jane: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? 

Liu: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. 

Jane: 

Jane: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

Jane: Hey Jeff, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this. 

Jeff, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah? 

Jane: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Jeff!

Jeff: You look mentally ill. 

Nina: I am. Let’s go.

Jeff: What should I do? 

Nina: *holds out hand* May I suggest dinner with a friend? 

Jeff: Well, none of my friends are available, so I guess I'll have to go with you.

Jane: You don’t have any friends in the first place!

Liu: Nina, you'll be working with Jeff and Jane. 

Nina: Alright! My fantasy threesome! 

Everyone else: *blank stares* 

Nina: ...Of people on a team.

Liu: Alright, what pizza toppings should we order? 

Nina: Anchovies and pineapple. 

Jane: I like beets.

Jeff: Have you guys ever had a cheese-less pizza? 

Liu: I’m disowning all of you.

Nina: What happened to your nose? 

Jane: I used it to break some guy's fist.

Jane: I can do anything I put my mind to. I once figured out Jeff's phone number just by choosing random numbers.

Jane: What’s your body count? 

Jeff: Do you mean sex or murder?

Jane: I already know which one is zero.

Nina: Time sensitive question how to flirt boy. 

Jeff: Throw rocks at him. 

Liu: Hot Dogs. 

Jane: Kill him. 

Nina: Thanks guys.

Jane: Good news! 

Jeff: You found where I hid your phone? 

Jane: ... 

Jeff: You found your phone?

Jeff: If it’s any consolation, they got me here on a very misleading text message. 

Jane: Technically, you are about to be screwed in the biology room.

Jane: When we get back, I'm going to step on you! 

Jeff: Okay, as much as I might enjoy that, Jane–

Jane: What the hell is wrong with you? 

Jeff: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Liu, about a fight between Jeff and Jane: It scares me how many knives were involved. 

Nina: There… weren’t any knives involved though? 

Liu: That’s what scares me.

Jeff: How do I tell Jane that I want them to yell at me like they're Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

Jeff: What’s sexting? 

Jane: I'm not having this conversation with you.

Jane: It doesn’t have a bone. 

Jeff: Then why is it called a boner?

Jeff: Hey, Jane, what do you think it would be like if we had kids? 

Jane: What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly. 

Jeff: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? Have you ever thought about it? 

Jane: Can't really say I have. 

Jeff: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes. 

Jane: Sorry, Jeff. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringin' up anybody.

Jeff, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy. 

Jane: I will short out the language center of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

Jane: I suppose you’re right. We really would be better off working together. 

Jeff: So, then… détente? 

Jane: Agreed. 

Jeff: Understanding? 

Jane: Possibly. 

Jeff: Cooperation? 

Jane: Maybe. 

Jeff: Trust? 

Jane: Out of the question.

Jane: As top in this relationship, I think we should- 

Jeff: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

[philosophicalconservatism]

hi, how are you? 😊 just for the fun of it, i'm throwing a random question at you: are there things which you think people shouldn't be able to buy or sell or do you think there should be no restrictions? like buying/selling e.g. organs, babies, weapons, drugs, sexual favors, etc. i follow some radical feminist blogs who are very much against surrogacy and oppose people (mainly sexual minorities) who say they have a right to surrogates and that it should be covered by insurance. i was wondering what a conservative thinks about these issues. i'm just curious & eager to hear different perspectives.

Thanks for the question, and once again for following.

The phrasing of your question cries out for drawing a basic distinction between Conservatism and Libertarianism. Yet the very moment we proceed to do so we come to an initial realization. If Libertarianism is only distinguishable from other ideas of government by the fact that it embraces an “absolute” ethos of liberty, then the only genuine Libertarianism is something called Anarcho-Capitalism. This is a scenario within which every voluntary transaction is permissible, which necessarily means that there can be no political state. Every element of order within such a society is to come about as a consequence of voluntary contracts between individuals at specific moments in time (including policing and enforcement).

Any professed Libertarian that adheres to anything less than this standard does not in fact embrace a genuine Libertarianism but some specific shade of Conservatism. How can I say this? Well, let us consider why someone who calls himself a Libertarian would reject an Anarcho- Capitalist model. How would he explain himself? In explaining himself he would begin to sound very much like a passage from an Edmund Burke pamphlet. He would begin to talk about abstract ideological speculation having to give way to practical human realities, and concrete social precedent. He could not exclude something like Anarcho-Capitalism in principle, as a future possibility, but he would insist that human societies as we presently know them cannot practically assume this form.

Now once he begins to reason in this way on political matters he cannot later on decide to appeal to some “absolute” Liberal ethos to settle every political question. He must continue in his confessed understanding of the fact that politics is actually a convergence of abstract ideals and (historically grounded) practical social realities. Without abstract ideals politics is morally blind, but without practical consideration and historical orientation, it is in applicable and useless. Attempt to establish a Jeffersonian Democracy overnight in a place like Saudi Arabia much less Afghanistan and see how far it gets you. On the other hand, you can take small practical steps toward gradually liberalizing such countries over time. The Conservative is a believer in freedom, but freedom is a thing into which societies must continually grow and develop.

So this brings us to your question of exactly what should and should not be permitted within the so called ”liberal” societies of the West. The answer is that we must determine on a case by case basis what we can realistically sustain as individual societies in this stage of our growth and development. We must carefully examine each issue with a close eye on the law of unintended consequences. Some professed Libertarians for example, like to talk about the legalization of drugs; but what would absolute drug legalization mean? It would consist of the right to freely dispense and use for recreational purposes, every single pharmaceutical and street drug in existence. We have absolutely no idea what an America like that would even look like.

We presently have a nationally crippling epidemic that revolves around a single strictly controlled substance (Fentanyl). One could not even begin to predict the vast sea of long term social consequences that would be created by the kind of policy referred to here. It would not even be guaranteed to eliminate the black market sale of these drugs. For example, there is still a multi-billion dollar international black market in tobacco, a legal drug. Now I made reference specifically to America here for a reason. Because in the end, every individual society must assess these issues for itself, on the basis of its own unique characteristics and national experience. Prostitution may be handled in one way by one legislature but differently by another (including within the same nation, as it is in the U.S.). One of the unintended consequences we must always consider is how the legalization of something complicates the prosecution of the illegal (or unregulated) versions of that thing.

The issue of surrogate motherhood could potentially yield some unique unintended consequences which cause it to stand apart. I do not have a problem with it in principle, but I think it must retain a certain character. If surrogate motherhood becomes a market exactly like any other market, then childbearing becomes the production of a commodity, and human beings can become articles for sale. But a child is not the “possession” of their parent, and therefore an unfettered market model is wrong for this kind of issue. There is a vast difference between parental discretion, and property rights. This topic is somewhat different from the others we have discussed so far. Those issues had to do only with how human beings dispose of their own person and property. This issue has to do with one party’s (or more than one party's) power over another (the future baby). For this reason it must be regulated even in the freest context.

In conclusion, the approach that I take on most of these question is to outline how we need to think about them rather than to try to answer them directly. Some of them are tremendously complex questions that do not necessarily have any uniform answer that is fit for every single society. We should act in a way that tends toward the maximization of freedom within the constraints of the present development of each society.

[the-bi-fangirl-biatch]

more headcanons for then that i just *cannot* stop thinking about, and I encourage you to add on!

Bob will always check on them during missions or press ops in very different ways to each person (potential for a 5 times + 1 fic ofc). either voice mails, texts through different platforms, letters (Bucky especially appreciates them), photos of what new meal prep they're gonna come home to. Very domestic, like a spouse waiting for their partner to come home from the war.

And another thing, I think Bob would get really into stationery. He'd bullet journal as one of his techniques to cope with what's happened. Yelena would say she has absolutely no time to do that, but then spend hours at his desk, poking and prodding at his newly delivered stationery. "What’s this do?" "That's a rolling stamp to make borders. See? It's pretty and really easy." "Can I try?" She fumbles it at first, but once she aligns it right, she refuses to stop. All his extra paper has rolls of the stamp. She writes Nat's name with it, then hers, then Bob's, then the teams'. It makes them both feel better to create and organize things rather than destroy them.

Ava will unironically wear Alexei's merch. At first she found it annoying, like 'come on man how many ideas do you have?' And then it turns into 'oh shit, how many ideas do you have?' Alexei would run things by the team and when they roll their eyes at the new product, he'd say, "But Ava used it! See, useful!" She defends herself by insisting that, "It was already there! One less thing to think about so we can focus on more important missions." "Are you using the AvengerZ plate and utensil set?" ".....No"

John still cannot shake his military habits, no matter how hard he tries, and everyone surprisingly connects with him through them one way or another. He wakes up at the asscrack of dawn to jog, and somehow Bucky's there, too, tying his sneakers about to go out. They have a race. Don't ask either of them who wins, or they get grumpy (they both got distracted and ran into trees/ran into a fountain and both got wet). Yelena cannot be assed to heat up the (amazingly made) mac and cheese that Bob stocked up for them, so she eats it straight out of the tupperware. John's hungry too and, well, he's used to roughing it up with little to no supplies in the field, so he eats the cold pasta beside her. He catches Ava rolling her clothes quickly after a load of laundry and shows her how to roll them more efficiently, even doing the little tucking to keep the folds together. An don't get me started on him and Alexei testing their strength with arm wrestling. They've broken many a table with that.

He's also probably great at organization. You don't become a tactical leader for nothing! He and Bob would have an intricate shared Excel sheet of what the tower needs. Neither of them know how to use Excel the best, though, so they both try random formulas and see which works best. They refuse to google, thinking 'it can't be that hard!' Basically two dumb bitches telling each other exactlyyyyy while the entire column has an error.

Bucky and Ava absolutely debate about the most useless things. Like, not in the 'strategic mission planning' type that he and Yelena usually do (although Ava's got a say in strategy too). More like non controversial things, like if cereal was a soup, or if hotdogs are a sandwich, or if you should put water on the toothbrush before or after toothpaste. They get extremely heated about it, and Bucky enjoys the lighthearted discussions amidst the seriousness. John (like the asshole he is) will purposely say something so unhinged just to throw them both off. "I don't put it on my toothbrush—I squeeze it directly into my mouth." And boom, they have a common enemy. Punches have been thrown over this.

They take home magnets of every country/city/state/etc they visit for the tower's fridge. Doesn't matter if it's tacky or loud, they *have* to collect them. Alexei particularly likes the ones that double as bottle openers.

Bucky is banned from the kitchen. He tries to cook with Bob once, and even his mild temper is snapped with endless eye rolls and yelps from sauces being flung around. He's also not allowed to use the dishwasher there (something about cross contamination), so he just sneaks out and does it in the middle of the night. One time, Yelena caught him waiting for it with the Tired Grandpa™️ pose and they get into a staring contest. Then she slowly adds one of her knives to it and they both wait and see if it gets clean. (It does.)

They all bond over hair. They're mostly assassins, operatives, military, experiments, or wayward people, so of course, they know how to cut their own hair. But to let another person get close to you with something sharp? That kind of trust takes longer to build. They start with sharing hairties, always having an extra on their wrist in case someone needed one. Then, they get hair products on Valentina's dime. There's always a new package waiting for them. Another curl cream or hair mask. Then, they abuse the hair appliances that were bought for them like straighteners, blowdriers, and curlers. Then slowly, cutting each other's hair.

YES the Thunderbolts have a fantastic team as family dynamic, yes they are living in Avengers tower, yes history is repeating itself and 2012 tower fics are so back. BUT!

instead of "Alexei eating poptarts" or "Yelena in the vents", we must come up with new headcanons and make history

Bob always does normal domestic chores, often getting in the way of important missions and spy business. "All I'm saying is Bucky is our best sniper" "It would be a much quieter assassination if I just slipped into the condo and cut his—" "Hey sorry guys, anyone have laundry? I'm doing a load"

Yelena and her guinea pig always eat meals together at the dining table. Everyone has their Chinese food or barbeque, meanwhile the rodent is loudly munching on a salad right beside them

Bucky is the mom and always keeps them on track. "Ava you have a dentist appointment in the morning, and bring Bob so they can add him to the insurance. Lena how was therapy? Alexei, I said no vodka until dinner"

Alexei is always coming up with new promotional ideas for the team. Cartoon tv show, cereal, toothpaste flavour...every day he thinks he's come up with the next big thing. Whenever they actually get put into production (Wheaties) he collects and saves it, and won't let anyone use a different product. (He threw out Yelena's frosted flakes and it took both Bucky and John to get her to stop attacking him)

Ava likes to phase and sneak attack her teammates at random. She claims it's for training but really she just thinks it's funny hearing them scream

John gets blamed for everything, even if it isn't his fault. Especially if it isn't his fault: "who ate the last bagel?" "John." "Where's my hair straightener?" "John had it." "Whose turn is it to unload the dishwasher?" "Johnnnn"

[barclaysangel]

Junior Wheeler finding out he has a younger half-sister headcanons

This just spiraled out of control from a random idea and then it grew more and more so here we are! I just had to write this as a set of headcanons or I would combust. It did take months to write this due to lack of motivation but I finally did it! If you guys like this, please tell me! I just MIGHT make a fic or one-shot series of the adventures of Big Bro Junior™. Besides, comments always make me feel accomplished and it gives me motivation to continue this AU!

Tags: @arthurpendragonlove @streets-in-paradise @rogertaylorismyking @marvelxchucky @the-carlos-cow-eyes

Warnings: Mentions of Logan Wheeler, mentions of kinda inappropriate relationships, some swearing, not proofread because proofreading is for losers

Word count: 3.2K

Summary: After surviving from being stabbed by a killer doll, Junior thought nothing could surprise him. Then they found out that he had a half-sister, a product from Logan Wheeler’s affair. And somehow, Junior’s life changes for the better once they become a big brother.

Notes: Takes place about a year and a half after the events of season 1, no mention of season 2 because I despise 98.5% of the plot of season 2, a shit ton of the ideas were created between me and @arthurpendragonlove , purposefully not saying who takes in Jake and Junior because I haven’t decided yet (maybe Miss Fairchild or Andy Barclay but I’ll admit, I’m leaning WAY MORE towards the latter if I make a fic based on this), Harper’s faceclaim is Victoria Pedretti and Eden’s faceclaim is Violet McGraw, Junior is my own personal interpretation of how his character arc could evolve after everything that’s happened to him, Junior is biromantic asexual and a demiboy who uses he/they pronouns (this has been a headcanon I've had for a year and I'm absolutely implementing Junior being a demiboy for the first time in these headcanons).

~Junior Wheeler was almost 16 years old when he found out about their father’s former mistress and child. 

~After surviving his stab wound, Junior started to get better. They opened himself up more, made amends and became better friends with Jake, Devon, and Lexy, got therapy, and explored their identity and who he truly was. They truly were in a good place. 

~And then Junior happened to meet a woman named Harper Murphy.

~Harper never knew that Logan Wheeler was married and had a teenage son. She had only found that out on the news after his body had been discovered due to the “mysterious” massacre that happened in Hackensack. 

~Harper felt so guilty now knowing that she had been the other woman, even producing a child with a married man, that she tried for over a year to find Junior to explain herself. 

~And that’s exactly what she tried to do when she showed up on his doorstep by herself. 

~It was safe to say that Junior didn’t react well. 

~They were already shaking with rage upon finding out that his father DID in fact cheat on their mom, but hearing that he now had a half-sister made them force her to leave before he could explode. 

~Jake thankfully had been there to be the voice of reason and took the slip of paper that had Harper’s phone number because Junior refused to take it. 

~For a couple weeks, Junior wasn’t themself. 

~He was prone to snapping more and refused to talk about their father’s mistress and child to anyone, including his friends,  girlfriend, caretaker, and therapist. Their anger was starting to get almost out of control because of how much he was now bottling up. 

~It was when Junior got a week’s worth of detention for throwing his textbook at the head of a classmate that was bothering them when Jake finally forced his cousin to sit down and talk it over. 

~There were many things that Junior was angry about. One, their father actually being a cheater and having a whole other family. Two, the fact that the other woman was much younger than his mother. And three, that Chucky was right in a way about their father having an affair. 

~By now, Junior knew about Chucky’s manipulation. He was used as a pawn in his game, manipulated into believing that their mom killed herself and his father cheated on her, leading to her suicide and causing them to kill his father. Junior now knew what really happened to her. 

~But finding out about this affair has led Junior into hating the fact that Chucky was right about something. 

~Jake was able to be there and reassure Junior, somehow even convincing them to call Harper and hear her full side of the story. 

~So after two weeks, Junior gave in and had Jake call her—because he didn’t have it in them to call her herself without losing it again, so he needed the calmer of the two cousins to make the phone call. 

~When Harper came by, once again alone, it was a meeting between her, Junior, Jake, and their caretaker. Junior couldn’t be trusted to be left alone, so they were with him in case their temper decided to strike again. 

~It did happen a few times throughout Harper’s story, leading Junior to get up and “take a lap”, which included storming angrily around the house once or twice until he was calm enough to sit down and listen again. 

~Some reasons that caused Junior to “take a lap” was when he found out that Harper was 21 years old and still at college when she met their father, when he found out that she was 27 now and that made her only 11 years older than them and he was 11 years older than her daughter, and even when Harper told them about how Logan isolated her from her parents to the point where she only had her daughter and occasionally his father whenever he felt like visiting.

~Knowing just how much of a manipulative piece of shit their father was made Junior want to explode. But he could see how weary and anxious Harper looked so they forced himself to be as calm as they could…which wasn’t a lot but it was the thought that counts. 

~It was much harder when Harper brought up the topic of her daughter, Eden. 

~Junior didn’t want to know about her. Whether it was because she was the product of his father’s affair or another connection that bound them to the man they wanted so desperately to forget, he didn’t know at the moment. They just absolutely didn’t want to know about her or see a picture when Harper offered. 

~Jake took her up on that offer though and looked at the picture of his new five year old cousin on Harper’s phone. Junior kept his back turned as Jake complimented Eden, attempting to persuade Junior to look with each thing she said. 

~He did capture Junior’s attention by one thing only. 

~“She looks nothing like her father.” 

~For some reason, that was enough for Junior to finally peer over Jake’s shoulder and look at the picture of their half-sister. 

~Eden was a carbon copy of her mother, with dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. The more Junior stared at her, the more he realized that she truly didn’t look like Logan. 

~Seems that their father had another child that looked exactly like their mother and not him. 

~Maybe the Wheeler genes were a lot weaker than he expected. 

~“…she’s cute, I guess.” 

~But during that meeting, Junior didn’t agree to wanting to see their half-sister. He didn’t know if they had it in him to see her in person. 

~It took more persuasion and another week until Junior was the one to call Harper and set up a meeting. 

~They did emphasize that he most likely wouldn’t want to have a relationship with Eden but he figured that they should meet her, just once. 

~In a way, Junior figured that this was something his mother would want them to do. She was a good woman with a big heart, she would want him to at the very least meet their half-sister, especially if she knew Harper’s story and how she was also a victim in Logan’s manipulation. 

~Junior was absolutely nervous to meet Eden. He hardly slept and ate during the days leading up to the meeting, riddled with so much anxiety that it started to affect them physically. 

~When they finally met, Junior didn’t know how to act. 

~Eden was obviously shy, clinging to her mother’s arm but staring at her half-brother with curiosity. And Junior was trying to function in a way that was considered calm because while he didn’t know if they would like her or not, he still didn’t want to frighten her. 

~After a couple minutes of staring, Junior finally gathered the courage to speak. 

~“Hi.” 

~“Hi.” 

~“I’m Junior.” 

~“I’m Eden.” 

~“Cool.” 

~“Cool.”

~Then Eden smiled at them. 

~Junior couldn’t quite explain it. But something in her smile was so sweet and so genuine, that he melted and fell under her spell.

~Junior began to slowly open themself up more and the more he did, the more they realized that there wasn’t a single trace of their father in her. She wasn’t like Logan at all. Eden was shy, sweet, kind, polite, and so much more, all the complete opposite of Logan. 

~Eventually the two siblings were trusted enough to be left alone and they spent the rest of the day watching a Disney movie together, The Little Mermaid, Eden’s favorite that also happened to be Junior’s favorite. 

~When it was time for them to go, Eden gave them the biggest hug and Junior came to the realization that this couldn’t be the first and last time he’ll ever meet her. They had to see her again, to get to know her more. 

~It was something he made known to Harper and the rest of their family. 

~“I’ve only known Eden for a few hours…but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” 

~“…I know you’re basically quoting B99 but it actually sounds terrifying when you say it.” 

~After that, Junior and Eden became inseparable. 

~They did just about everything together. They watched movies, listened to music, and went to the park and zoo a lot. 

~Most of the movies were Disney movies, so it involved a lot of singing and dancing from both of them. 

~Eden became fascinated with Junior’s guitar and would beg him to play for her all the time. They always obliged and eventually, he let her hold the guitar. 

~The sight was absolutely adorable because their guitar looked so much bigger than her, but Eden was holding it to her chest with a big smile. 

~Junior lost count over how many times he took her to the park. They always pushed her on the swings and would hold her hand if she was too nervous to go down a steep slide. 

~Junior also spends so much money on Eden whenever they go to the gift shop at the zoo. He just couldn’t say no to her. 

~Over time, they stopped calling her his half-sister. Eden was Junior’s sister. No half of anything. 

~Eden doing their makeup and nails was always a must. 

~Junior sometimes did his own makeup and painted their nails, but always let Eden do whatever she wanted. Her technique was sloppy when it came to the nail polish and he looked like a mess with the amount of eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick she would put on them. 

~But it was always fun and worth it to let Eden doll him up because of the big smile she would get on her face. 

~The amount of photos of Eden and Junior together on Junior, Lexy, Jake, Devon, and Harper’s phones are enough to fill up ten scrapbooks. 

~A month after they met, Junior turned 16. Eden made tons of pictures of the two of them together, all of which are hung up on his wall, and even a friendship bracelet. 

~They never take that bracelet off. 

~Piggy back rides happened hundreds of times. 

~Junior constantly has Eden on his back and she just clings onto them while he’s walking or running. 

~Sometimes they’ll carry her in his arms too, especially when she falls asleep. 

~Or have her thrown over their shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. 

~All of these actions would leave Junior sore but her big smile and hysterical giggles were always worth it. 

~He’s lost count over how often they’ve played Princess with Eden. 

~Junior would admit, he enjoyed partially wearing a pink dress that certainly didn’t fit with a plastic crown on their head, despite the teasing he would get sometimes. 

~“Oh…my…god.” 

~“Don’t be jealous that I make a prettier princess than you do, Jacob.” 

~Junior has tons of nicknames for Eden. 

~The most popular are Edie, Eeds, Darling, Pumpkin, Sweetness, and Sweetheart. 

~Eden doesn’t have a lot of nicknames for Junior except for just a few, which are all variations of their name. 

~Jun, Junie, JJ, and her absolute favorite, Juna. 

~No one is allowed to call Junior Juna except Eden. 

~Jake made that mistake once and found out what it felt to be stomped on his bare foot by Junior’s strong boot. 

~When Halloween rolls around, they do matching costumes. Eden insisted and as Junior has shown many times, he just can’t say no to her. 

~They also take her to the houses that have the best and biggest candies. 

~It’s no secret how close they are. The others have joked about Eden being Junior’s “mini me” or “shadow.” 

~He’d be lying if they said that he didn’t like it. It was absolutely adorable how much she wanted to be like them. But he still encouraged her to be her own person and how she didn’t need to like everything that they liked. 

~He didn’t want her growing up the way they did, willing to change everything about himself and mold themself into another version of his father. 

~It would just fill her with emptiness and resentment and she sure as hell didn’t deserve that. Eden deserved to be happy and loved for being the way she was. 

~Junior learned how to braid hair for their sister. 

~It took some practice with Lexy and a couple others but eventually, he got it down enough to do all kinds of braids on Eden. 

~Eden would also braid their hair since Junior had been growing it out so the tips of his hair now touched their shoulders. 

~Her technique wasn’t as good, pretty sloppy with quite a bit of hair pulling, but she was five years old after all. 

~And Junior did think he looked quite cute in braids.

~Junior tries their hardest not to swear around Eden…

~…but fails constantly.

~“Ow! Fuck!” 

~“Fuck!” 

~“NONONONONONONONO—!” 

~Music was something that was always playing in Junior’s room. It helped not only to relax him, but also to inspire them to write his own music. 

~It didn’t take long for them to realize that Eden loved rock and heavy metal music. 

It was both cute and disturbing for those watching a child screaming “DISRESPECT YOUR SURROUNDINGS” in a high-pitched voice while aggressively head banging while her teenage brother did the exact same thing. 

~While Junior always had fun with Eden, there was always a sense of fear that never left him. 

~Chucky. 

~They lived in terror that one day Chucky could come back because he just knew that that fucker would never truly die. 

~And it scared them to know what could happen if Chucky came back and found out about the little sister of the teenager he didn’t manage to kill. 

~The most Junior could do without telling Eden the full story about Chucky was to make her promise him that she would not play with that doll and would call them immediately if it ever showed up. 

~“Darling, I need you to promise me something. If a Good Guy doll like that ever comes to your house, you tell your mom to call me and…say you want to play with dolls with me. Okay? That doll isn’t good, it’s bad. So you need to tell me IMMEDIATELY and I’ll make sure it goes away. Pinkie promise?” 

~“Pinkie promise, Juna!” 

~Junior hardly had any regrets about killing his father. 

~What they regretted was how he unknowingly helped with Chucky’s plan, used as a pawn in his game. 

~When they met Eden, he started to feel some more regret because their little sister would grow up never knowing their father. Even now, the memories she has of him are basically blips of a dream because she was only 3 years old when she last saw him. 

~But Junior becomes confident in the decision that he made when Harper confided in them about how Logan would be controlling over how Eden should dress or act. 

~His sister was a pink dress wearing girl that could be rowdy and enjoyed getting dirty. The latter were things that Logan didn’t want a girl to be doing. 

~It was only a matter of time before their father would start controlling and manipulating her as she grew older. 

He’d try to control her just like he controlled Junior.

~So it was better for Eden growing up with little to no memories of an emotionally abusive man. 

~Junior truly is a chaotic soul. There’s no level to their chaos. So it didn’t take long for his chaos to rub off on Eden. 

~They would pull pranks together on everyone. Especially Jake. He was their favorite victim. 

~“Don’t be such a baby, Jake!”

~“Yeah! Don’t be such a baby, Jake!”

~“Hey! Stop corrupting my kid cousin!” 

~Really, their combined chaos cannot be stopped. 

~“I’m begging you two…please just be good.” 

~“We would rather die.” 

~“Die! Die! Die!” 

~Junior knows that one day, they would have to explain almost everything to Eden, such as why they’re half siblings. 

~She wouldn’t understand everything now because she’s too young. So far, Eden’s content just knowing that she has a brother now and doesn’t need to know the details just yet. 

~That’s something he’ll worry about another day. Right now, they would rather enjoy being by her side and being her protector. 

~Speaking of protector, lord help anyone who tries to bully Eden. 

~“Junior, you can’t physically fight a kindergartener.” 

~“Like hell! My hands are rated E for EVERYONE!” 

~Junior did once catch a little boy pushing Eden at the park and he scared the kid so badly by threatening him that the boy peed his pants. 

~Eden thought it was absolutely hilarious and it made her feel a lot better about being pushed.��

~Junior was glad that it made her feel better too, but they still wanted Eden to defend herself. 

~“Eeds, if someone ever pushes you again...push them back. Hit them. Make them regret it. Just don’t tell your mom I said that, okay?” 

~“Okay! Can we get ice cream now?” 

~“Yeah, sure, let’s go get ice cream.” 

~Their personalities are both very similar yet different. 

~Junior and Eden are both introverted and then chaotic and mischievous to those who get to know them. But Junior prefers to only open himself up to their closest friends and family while Eden opens herself up fairly quickly to anyone who is nice to her. 

~Eden’s kindness makes Junior want to be a better person. She has a heart of gold and sees the good in everyone, the complete opposite of her brother. 

~He could only hope that no one ever tarnishes her light. 

~Christmas was always a hard holiday for Junior without their mother. It was something he didn’t expect would ever change. 

~Until they spent his first Christmas with Eden. 

~Seeing her give them badly wrapped gifts—Harper told him that Eden insisted on wrapping them herself—with the biggest smile on her face made Junior forget about how much the holiday pained them. 

~Sitting with his new family in front of the fireplace, stomach filled to the brim with food, exchanging stories with Eden sleeping peacefully on their lap with her head on his chest put things into perspective for them for the first time in a long time. 

~In the end, he found the peace and happiness they had been looking for so long. 

~Junior finally felt whole.

[leoneliterary]

hi! was wondering how you plan and outline your if games? i don't know where to start but i do want to plan before i actually start coding yk :/

Hey! I definitely started planning before I hopped into coding so I definitely feel you!

How about I break down part of my planning process by giving some examples from one of my work in progress google docs?

Before we get into it, I would also like to throw out there that as you get started you'll find a process that works for you, so don't feel beholden to doing things the way I do!

Beginning

I start out with these main categories:

Premise- This may not always come first, but I try to get it visualized and sorted before I get too far into anything else. I usually jot down a mangle of ideas and then whittle it down into a sentence that makes sense.

Setting- This one can be added to as you go, but I find it helpful to understand where your story and characters are because it shapes who they are.

Characters- These sometimes pop up before any plot or setting. Jot them down, whether it's just a vibe or a detailed character outline. You might not end up using them for your project or they may change later on, but capturing them on the page now, means that you can move them later.

Premise

Now let's focus a little bit more on premise. I'll include an example from Honor Amongst Thieves and compare it to the premise of another WIP.

Here is my first paired down premise for Honor Amongst Thieves:

It's hella vague, it's more of a description of the inciting action than a summary of the plot, but it's all I needed at the time to remind me of what would be happening. Corruption, orphans, thieves, guilds, thieves guilds, etc. My current game description might be better than this brief premise, but it does the job for me.

Now here is a more detailed initial premise for another WIP, Aim of Eros:

The Premise

You are the child of Eros and Psyche. You fulfill your duties with skill and dedication, but soon you are drawn into the conflict between Zeus and Hera, as well as the quarrels of mortals. This leaves you with a target that might be harder to hit. What kind of olympian will you be?

This one has a bit more meat on it because I needed to write down more to serve as a reminder of the plot. With Honor Amongst Thieves, I thought about the story long enough that a vague premise was enough, but Aim of Eros had to be zeroed in a lot more from an abstract idea.

Remember that any idea can be organized later on, so write it down even if it doesn't fit anywhere yet.

Adding More

Once I have a base for my story, I'll start adding to it. I like creating these additional sections as headings, so that they show up on the side bar.

Honor Amongst Thieves has a good amount of sections:

I redacted a section (no peeking), but this helps me organize the way I'm breaking down the story.

I like to create the Scene Ideas section early, that way any random scene idea has a home!

Timeline is also important because it helps you manage pacing and also put those scenes in order.

Now let's compare this to the sections for Aim of Eros:

It's very early in the planning process, so it's a lot shorter, but this is ultimately the core of everything. Who,What, Where, When and Why can tell you a lot.

Stats

You'll notice that there aren't any stats for Aim of Eros yet because I need to know the story, the motivations, and events that might happen in order to start putting in stats.

For Honor Amongst Thieves, I knew there would need to be an honor stat and a thievery stat, but for Aim of Eros, it wasn't as clear cut.

Do I need a wrath stat? Marksmanship stat? Do I care more about interaction based stats or skill checks? These are important to ask yourself and really make managing a stat page easier! I'm not that into pass/fail skill checks. I think failing successfully, or just not being suited for the situation and having to think your way out of it is fun, so my stat page reflect that.

Summary

Whew, sorry for such a long post, but I hope you found something in it that could be helpful! Let me know if you'd like to know more. All in all, the take away is:

Establish a premise or the story you want to tell

Write down every idea or character that pops into your head

Section things off as you see fit and add more categories as you go to keep from getting overwhelmed

Ask what you want your story to focus on and what stats you need to accomplish it

Above all, don't worry about having to make changes!

[annieharkness]

Glimpses: Part 14a (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

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Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The cast goes out for dinner.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Well hello there again! I was scheduled for work today but my shift got cancelled, so I had some time to go on with the story. Today's story doesn't begin with a gif - but it ends with one. Additionally, I am very anxious for everyone's reaction. Please don't kill me. xxx A.

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl @spacehahn @sarahp-stan @agentbrownierso @our-blood-is-our-ink

Playlist! :)

_____________________________________________________________________________

On set has always been Kathryn’s favorite place to be. Ever since she can think, she wanted to be an actress. It’s overwhelming sometimes, that’s for sure. But watching the movies at the end, after the projects are done, is the most rewarding thing to her. 

It’s Wednesday afternoon, today was a short day because the director scheduled some night shootings at the beginning of the week and promised to give everyone off earlier on Wednesday so the cast could go out for dinner. That’s why Kathryn is sitting in her Trailer with manager Jennifer and assistant Agnes (Ben is already off for the day) as they enjoy a cup of coffee as they chat about the upcoming weeks.

Kathryn is sprawled out on the couch, propping her feet up on Jennifer’s lap who doesn’t mind to have a little less personal space. Jennifer is studying the week’s schedule on her iPad as Kathryn stares at the ceiling. 

“Do you know what you want to wear to dinner today?” Kathryn props her head up to look at Jennifer and tries to find a quick answer.

She hates questions about outfits because usually she just throws on a blazer to whatever shirt she is wearing that day and calls is a day. As if anyone cares what she is wearing. Also, with no social media she wouldn’t notice bad press anyway.

Realizing Kathryn hasn’t thought of it yet, Agnes gets up and walks towards her wardrobe. Kathryn’s eyes follow her.

“Thank you, Aggie, just a black blazer would be great. Did I bring one? I’ll just wear it with the shirt I’m wearing. No fuzz and all.” Kathryn says apologetically. She feels bad for not getting up and arranging her clothes herself, but she is completely exhausted and can’t find the strength to get up just yet.

The three woman chat for a little longer before Kathryn sits down to reapply her makeup and fix her hair. There’s a knock on the door. Once again, Agnes is the one who gets up to open it as Jennifer is on a call with a magazine who wants to interview Kathryn soon.

“Hello! Can I he-“ The redhead nearly falls out of the trailer as she is faced with one of Kathryn’s co stars. The actor smiles at her softly, offering a hand to steady her.

“Is Kathryn here?” He asks in a raspy, low voice and peeks his head into the trailer. Kathryn, who has turned around from where she is seated, makes eye contact with him and offers a slow wave to say hello.

“K! We’re slowly but surely getting ready to leave and I thought I’d give you a heads up and maybe even take you with me already.” Hearing this nickname from anyone but you makes Kathryn feel very uneasy and her whole inside flinches as she realizes that, if she doesn’t speak up about it, he will continue using it. But at the same time: what is she supposed to say? She can’t just call him out for something like that because that could make her seem extremely unfriendly right away.

Realizing an answer is long overdue, she nods and checks herself in the mirror. “Can I get… like 10 more minutes, Jeff? I’ll come find you immediately.”

He shoots her a bright smile “Don’t worry! Let’s make it 15 and I’ll pick you up again.” And with that he leaves the trailer again.

Jennifer, who ended the call just a moment ago, looks up from the tablet to grin at Kathryn. “What a gentleman.” She winks.

“Treating you just the way you deserve to be treated.” Agnes also winks at her and Kathryn wishes she could just slap both of them. Lovingly, obviously.

Jennifer gets her attention back. “So…. Are you gonna go with him?”

“IS IT GONNA BE A DATE?” The younger woman jumps in excitedly.

Kathryn turns around to actually face her two closest people again without a mirror being the transmitting point. “Guys, you know I’ve been spending time with Y/N. That would be extremely unfair to her. I couldn’t.”

Agnes starts nodding as Jennifer takes her attention off the tablet for a moment and fully faces Kathryn. “I know, but let’s face it. She is much younger than you, doesn’t know a thing about the business and she won’t be here for a long long time. And of she would be here then press would go absolutely wild and you know that!”

“But… she makes me happy.” Kathryn won’t let her manager talk for herself and over her feelings like that and smiles as she sees her assistant nod behind Jennifer’s back over the remark.

“Might be, but still. My point stands. As your manager I have to tell you that both could be an extreme distraction, but at least he is here and you don’t have to stay up extremely late to communicate.” Jennifer looks back at her tablet, where she furiously starts typing. “Also. He has a very clean record and seems genuinely nice.”

“Let’s put on the red lipstick you brought, Kathryn! I’ll help you.” Agnes smiles and gets up from where she is seated to step closer to Kathryn, pushing her red hair behind her ears.

As they look at each other in the mirror and Kathryn’s eyes meet hers, she realizes how emotional her boss seems to be over the whole situation. Realizing Agnes is about to make another remark, Kathryn slightly shakes her head as she keeps intense eye contact and reaches for the lipstick to distract herself.

Just a moment later, Jeffrey knocks on the door again.

“There she is!” He exclaims, reaching for Kathryn’s hand who is about to step out of the trailer. “The most beautiful woman on set.”

She blushes and slaps his arm that is intertwined with hers all while jokingly rolling her eyes. “Oh shush.” She laughs.

“Just spilling some facts. Let’s go, I’ll drive. The others left just a moment ago and I offered to bring you.”

It’s a short drive and the two hold a casual conversation about previous projects and the mood is good. He seems to actually be quiet the gentleman as he immediately walks around the car and opens the door for her to get out. It’s just now becomes clear that it wasn’t a smart idea to leave later than the others.

Word must have spread and paparazzi and a handful of fans are building a crowd in front of the restaurant. For aesthetic reasons, the restaurant’s entrance is made out to look like a red carpet - the perfect opportunity to shoot some pictures of the stars.

The whole cast is still outside, waiting for Jeff and Kathryn all while handing out autographs. Paparazzi line up to get the perfect shot of the whole cast. Someone from the restaurant seems to be outside already to organize and manage the situation and give the cast some space. He talks the paparazzi down to take a single picture of all of them together.

Kathryn gets seemingly uneasy. She never really does a lot of big press for her projects and events like the Grammys are so organized that she doesn’t get to experience chaos like this, especially with no security around. Jeffrey turns around to look at her. “Hold on to me, we’ll be inside in a minute.”

She smiles thankfully and intertwines their arms again on their way inside. As they are all stopped for the cast picture, the fans line up with the paparazzi to get some pictures themselves. There is a moment of silence as the hotel manager arranges everyone and clears the chaos. A random girl in the back of the people suddenly jumps up and, thereby, grabs everyone’s attention. “I LOVE YOU, KATHRYN.” She jumps again. “YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL, KATHRYN.” She yells, prompting Kathryn to break out into the most beautiful smile, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeffrey who smiles back at her, creating a moment that is captured by a fan’s phone.

Dinner itself is calming and everyone has a good time. Kathryn loves to get to know everyone this way and they stay for multiple hours until the sun has long set and it seems like everyone is on their third desert, just to drag out the time.

Slightly intoxicated from all the wine she has had with the female co star next to her, Kathryn smiles at Jeffrey. “Thank you for offering a ride, by the way. I feel like I haven’t said that yet.”

“You are very welcome.” He replies and places his hand on her upper thigh for a moment as the two of them look at each other for a little too long.

“Kathryn! Another glass?” She actress next to Kathryn grabs her attention as the waiter offers to pour another one. Overthinking for a moment, Kathryn ends up declining the glass and asks for a water instead. She doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow.

As it nears midnight, the cast slowly but surely makes their way back home and Jeff reaches out for Kathryn once again to help her up from the table. Just like before, he offers her a right back home to the hotel that she is staying in over night. They realize they are living on the same floor as they make their way back to her room. 

Kathryn, who’s red lipstick has already worn off from all the food and drinks she’s had, stumbles slightly. Not because she is drunk, but because of how tired she feels. There are no words to describe how glad she is that she doesn’t have to work early the next morning. Her first shoot isn’t until 3pm, so she will definitely be sleeping in.

Jeffrey guides her all the way to her room and watches her as she let’s herself in. He stays in the door frame, leaning against it as his eyes follow her every step. Kathryn takes off her blazer and ruffles through her hair after putting her jewelry on a plate on her table.

In her background, Jeffrey, who is still standing where she left him, clears his throat. “Come and spend the night with me.”

[blueberrypossum]

Oh! Sorry! I just thought you did write imagines...but I will tell you my idea...I was wondering how the mud dogs would feel having a kindhearted girl in the group that is a nurse and and each of them (separately) have a crush on her? (can this be a headcannon?) but it’s ok if you don’t do it. I also like your blog and your drawings of ocs! They’re very cute!

Rottmnt Mud Dogz! Headcanons!

If you were the kindhearted nurse of the team and if the Mud Dogz started to develop feelings for you!

( I decided to do this gender-neutral so everyone can get their love from the Mud Dogz! Hope that’s okay!)

Also, anyone can make requests or asks! The reason I don’t really have it placed in my blog is because there are some requests where I just stare and I’m like: I don’t have enough creativity to come up with anything oh heck I don’t want to let someone down. So, don’t be afraid to send anything!

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Loathsome Leonard 

-He didn’t pay no mind to you at first, his group was okay with you joining in seeing that they were going to hurt on most heists so he respects you.

-It takes a long and hard time to get close to Leonard, he’s the leader after all, and he doesn’t want to continue adding people to his group and then see them either leave, die, or backstab them. 

-Of course, he isn’t rude to you, he just doesn’t talk much about plans and heists when you’re around at first and there is barely any small talk between the two of you in the beginning. 

-Until one night he goes off on his own without the other guys knowing and stumbles back terribly wounded and can’t make it back to their apartment, but your place is closer. 

-You were asleep when you heard the strangled yet urgent knock on your door and you quickened your pace when it started to repeat in more rapid strings. 

-You can’t help but gasp at the sight of Leonard, beaten and bloody as if he had just starred in a horror movie and you rush him in, setting him in the chair in your kitchen before gathering your medical supplies you had in your home. 

- In silence you help him take off his shirt and put yourself to work, cleaning and dressing his cuts and gashes, all while handing him water to drink and a towel to play with when the pain gets unbearable. 

“Where are Danny and Mickey? Are they wounded as well?”

“No, it’s only me.”

“Did you...did you go out on your own Leonard?”

“...”

-Your once nice outlook is now casted with anger as you stand and throw the damp cloth you had used to clean his shoulder wound into the trash with such force that it almost startled him.

Almost. 

“You know, for someone who works so hard to make sure his teammates don’t do stupid stunts, you suck at taking your own advice.”

-That causes a surge to burst through him; he had never heard you speak like that before, never spoken your mind with such raw rage. And when he goes to fire something back, your hand is under his chin and shushing him, taking a new wet rag and cleaning a cut that sliced down his cheek. 

-”Next time, just tell them, and me. Trust has to go both ways, and since I trust you -” You tilt his head until he is looking up at you, the first prickle of tension bubbling his skin. 

“You should trust me.”

-And oh he’s hooked now and nothing can smother it. 

-He’s sudden embarrassed and possibly even scared to be around you alone, afraid that his words will slip up or he'll do something stupid in front of you. 

-You’re just so smart and kind, but that more dominant and stronger side of you has caused his heart to beat faster when you enter the room and he despises it. He can’t let his emotions get caught up in the missions and...you deserved better, someone who just wasn’t a lowlife thief. 

-But, he’s warmer around you,  and will actually create a conversation with you about yourself and how you are doing instead of just talking about the next heist. 

Dastardly Danny

-For once, the rat yokai doesn’t have to play doctor in the group once you join the band of thieves. It’s a great change of pace because for one he never went to medical school and only learned to clean wounds just by experience. 

-He would be super intrigued by your understanding of the yokai and/or human body and how to treat and dress each different type of wound. He would probably ask to be placed under your wing in case you were injured or couldn’t make it in time (also to spend time with you). 

-He’s a huge talker with you and would possibly be the one in the group who would fully understand the scientific words you spit out sometimes. 

-Danny knows and understands his feelings pretty well, and once he realizes he has developed an infatuation with you, he falls head first into it. 

-He’ll go to you and make the cheesiest and gooiest jokes that play in with you and your job profession and boy does it make Leonard and Mickey gag.

“I don’t think you can diagnose me because there’s no treatment for being madly in love, dollface.”

“Danny, sit still, you keep reopening the cut!”

-Instead of getting you flowers and chocolates, he understands the expense of medical supplies and you come by to find new needles, clean cloths, and antibiotics all wrapped up and presented nicely with your name on it. 

-After hours of sewing cuts and bending arms back into their sockets, Danny would still crawl over to the kitchen and make you your favorite drink, even if he broke both his legs. 

-Of course, he loves to make you a flustered and stuttering mess, especially during dire moments such as him with a bullet wound and you’re desperately trying to seal the blistering hole. He’ll look right at you and horsley state, “Bleeding out like this doesn’t seem too bad if you keep touching me like dat’.”

-Would def. Give you the nickname doc, nothing will change that. 

Malicious Mickey

-Honestly, you can impress this sweet guy with anything, from knowing what ointment to apply on certain cuts and then easily telling him facts about his internal organs, you make the guy have that astounded look of a child. 

-He probably wouldn’t understand a single word if you explained to him how the body works or why certain medicines only work for certain illnesses and infections, but he will certainly show his wonderment in the information. 

-He would probably start falling for you since you are kind, you place care in his wounds. Not saying Danny didn’t, but you placed colorful stickers on his cuts and then started to bring pieces of candy only for him (for a second, he believed you only saw him as a brother and it worried him).

-Mickey would be the only one in the group to remember the most random facts you have told that shocks everyone, even you. It shows that he listens, just doesn’t understand.

-He would try to make jokes like Danny does when he’s wounded but he’s just so baffled at how fast and calm you work on him that he will just state how pretty you are or how your nose will ruffle up when you’re concentrating on something. 

-Will probably come and visit you at your workplace and you will have to hide him because he’s a literal criminal like jeez Mickey someone can recognize you. 

-When hanging out, he’ll ask certain questions about his specific internal workings and then about Leonard and Danny, and then what were your favorite things to learn from medical school. It feels great for someone to be interested in what you know, and even though you will go into a huge rank about certain things and he just stares at you, you know that he cares. 

-The poor sweet boy would die inside once you two started to date because you got to kiss his bruises and smaller cuts before continuing on to the bigger wounds and he would play with your hair and curl around you after a hard day at work. 

[szeherezadaa]

Bakugou HC

We know canonically Bakugou is a good pickpocket (chapter 219). Bakusquad learns about it (and some more) gradually.

(It turned out to be long af and drabble-ish, but it’s basically fluffy Bakusquad shenanigans with Bakugou being talented in yet another field.)

It starts with Kaminari who wants to mess with Bakugou a little. They’re studying in Bakugou’s room, but Kaminari is exhausted and wants a break, so he steals the pen Bakugou marks their mistakes with that is currently laying on the table — alone and unprotected, easy prey. Bakugou is distracted at the moment, he’s explaining something to Sero once again. Kaminari hides the pen in the pocket of his hoodie and shoots a smile at Ashido who’s also low-key dying and has asked for break at least three times already.

“Okay, Sparky, your turn,” Bakugou says and Kaminari slides him his worksheet on the table, and then finally looks at him with an innocent face-

-and sees Bakugou marking all of Kaminari’s errors with the exact same pen he did it all this time. Kaminari checks his pockets frantically, but they’re empty.

“Something’s wrong, Sparky?” Bakugou asks in a daring tone not even sparing him a glance. Kaminari just shakes his head, blurting out one nervous “no!”. It’s too nervous to pretend nothing happened, but Sero is too engrossed in correcting his mistakes and Kirishima looks like he’s fully focused on the textbook but while his body is here, his mind is probably fifty thousand miles away, so only Ashido actually notices.

She’s the next one to try to stea- to borrow something without asking from Blasty. She wants to see if it were Kaminari who messed up or if it’s the case of Bakugou being insanely good at something once again. Honestly, is there anything this guy can’t do? So, she decides to kill two birds with one stone. She has an agenda of stealing clothes from her boys to wear them, but she didn’t try to take Bakugou’s clothes yet. It’s a good opportunity to do so.

She sneaks into his room one day, right after school when barely anyone is back in the dorms yet; the excuse of organizing a movie night later at the tip of her tongue if for some reason Bakugou is already in his room. She’s lucky though, because when she enters his room, it’s empty. She opens his closet, pulls out a black hoodie with some band logo on it — it’s the softest one he has, she knows — and she’s about to put it on and leave, when the doors to Bakugou’s room open and Bakugou himself enters. She hides the hoodie behind her back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bakugou demands, opening the closet and pulling something out of it. Ashido laughs nervously and avoids looking him in the eye. In this brief second she did, she felt like his piercing gaze reached her soul. She starts to babble — how she was looking for him and about the movie night, it would be great if he joined them — while he goes to the bathroom to change from his school uniform. When he opens the bathroom doors, he’s wearing black hoodie with some band logo on it, the softest Bakugou owns.

Wait.

“Wha-” Ashido checks her hands and sees a dark red jacket she’s not sure she’s ever seen before.

“I’m not gonna be an easy target like Shitty Hair or Tape Face. If you want to have my hoodie, you have to put some fucking effort into it. Now get the fuck out of my room.”

Ashido leaves.

Kirishima and Sero know because Ashido barged into Kaminari’s room, when they were playing video games together. She tells them everything. Kirishima isn’t exactly surprised, his bro is amazing after all.

Kaminari decides they should test it. See if there is something they can steal from Bakugou and have him not notice it. Ashido agrees eagerly. Sero shrugs, says he will help if he can, but mostly will be there as a witness. And a reporter, kind of, with his phone always ready to snap a photo or record a video. Kirishima isn’t sure if it’s a good idea — mostly because stealing isn’t manly — but the rest convince him, arguing that they don’t actually want to steal anything from Bakugou, just tease him, mess with him a little- The point is they don’t have any malicious intent, just want to have some harmless fun and judging from Bakugou’s reaction when Ashido tried to steal his hoodie, he knows it and already treats it as a challenge. So yeah, Kirishima agrees in the end, sue him.

The problem is, Bakugou is insanely good at it. He notices every time and it’s almost scary — whenever one of them have their hands on something belonging to Bakugou and are ready to present it to the rest of the squad, it turns out he already pickpocketed it back. He’s quick, and subtle, and efficient, and although two of these things are normal for him, Bakugou being subtle is somewhat surreal. They don’t really give up, but they stop focusing on it. They try to gain the element of surprise back, so they have to stop for a while. Lull Bakugou into a false sense of security.

They are kinda taken aback though, when Bakugou uses his skills out of his own initiative instead of as a mean to get his stuff back.

They’re sitting in cafeteria during lunch break, and Kirishima gets a text that makes his face as red as his hair in a matter of a second. It doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends.

“Who are you texting? You’ve got a crush on someone? Did they agree to a date?” Ashido floods him with questions, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Kaminari and Sero join the teasing, so Kirishima blurts out hurriedly:

“No! My mom was cleaning our attic and found a photo album from my childhood. She just sent me an embarrassing photo.” He hopes it will calm them down. He forgets one thing.

“Show me!”

“C’mon dude!”

His friends are a pain in the ass, all of them.

“No way!” he screams and tries to keep his phone out of his friends’ reach. He picks up his bag, hides his phone inside, zips the bag and holds it close, as if it was his most precious possession. It kind of is in this particular moment.

“Please, bro. I swear I won’t laugh.”

Kirishima knows it’s a lie. He refuses, stares down at Ashido and Kaminari and Sero (the traitor. Kirishima didn’t expect anything else from Ashido and Kaminari, but Sero? He trusted him) and refuses to give in to their puppy eyes. It’s tough, he’s gotta admit it. And then…. And then he hears Bakugou’s voice.

“I thought it would be something more scandalous given your reaction, Shitty Hair.”

No. He didn’t.

Except he absolutely did.

Kirishima glances, panicked, at Bakugou holding Kirishima’s phone in his hand.

“It’s not that bad, don’t be a pussy.” Bakugou rolls his eyes and puts Kirishima’s phone on the table - closest to Kirishima but not out of Kaminari’s reach. Kirishima sees this little smirk on Bakugou’s face that Bakugou always wears when they manage to convince him to some shenanigans he won’t admit out loud he enjoyed. Kirishima knows Bakugou will use his skills more often, now.

They created a monster.

Luckily Bakugou doesn’t really use his powers for evil. Well, he doesn’t use it for evil on Sero, just on Kaminari, Ashido and sometimes Kirishima, and for Sero it’s enough actually. The number of times it happened doesn’t mean they know everything about his skills though, Sero discovers one day. It should be obvious in hindsight, but Bakugou has this weird talent where whatever he does, whatever new thing you get to know about him, you’re both surprised and not at all, at the same time.

They’re doing groceries together, and they’re getting back to the dorms already, when a villain attack happens. The villain in question isn’t really strong, luckily, but has some weird teleporting quirk that moves random people to random places. They help the hero who arrived at the scene and once the villain is arrested, the hero asks them to stay here a bit longer and help people who weren’t hit with the teleporting quirk find their friends and family. More specifically help some kids, who can’t find their parents now. More specifically Sero and Bakugou are supposed to babysit the kids until the hero and his sidekicks find the missing parents.

Sero sees Bakugou frown but he doesn’t argue. Sero knows kids aren’t exactly Bakugou’s forte, especially not crying kids, so he tries his best to calm them down quickly. It’s not that easy. Sero sees Bakugou’s hand sparkle with mini-explosions. It doesn’t really calm the kids down either.

Finally, Bakugou snaps and points at a little girl with a witch hat on her head and a dark blue cape with yellow stars on it on her shoulders.

“Will you shut up if I show you a magic trick?”

The girl doesn’t look even a little bit calmer, but she hesitantly nods her head nonetheless, her lips still trembling and tears still streaming down her cheeks. Bakugou’s roar, although scaring some kids more (or, like, again; Sero actually made them stop crying and it’s all for nothing now, thanks Bakugou), brings all the kids’ attention to Bakugou. He kneels on the ground and shows his little audience that his hands are empty, then proceeds to pull a coin out off the witch girl’s ear. He shows the coin to all the kids, rotates it holding it with his index finger and his thumb, then closes his palm into a fist. When he opens his palm once again, there are two coins — between his index and middle finger, and between his middle and ring finger. He closes his palm into a fist one more time, and when he opens it, it’s empty again. The kids gasp.

“Your other hand!” one kid exclaims.

“Clever little shit,” Bakugou grins, “You thought you’re so smart, huh? Well, not this time.” He shows the other hand too; both are equally empty.

“Once more!” one kid demands.

“Once more!” the Clever Little Shit agrees.

“Once more! Once more!” the witch girl starts to chant. Other kids join her.

“Fine,” Bakugou says, then pulls out the coin again. He moves it on his fingers, throws it in the air, then catches it in his fist. Once he opens his palm, there are three coins, all between his fingers, minus his thumb. He closes his fist again and once he opens it, it’s empty once more. He looks at all the kids, then at Sero.

“Yo, Tape Face, check your pocket.”

There’s no way, is there?

Sero swears if there are coins in his pocket, he’ll start Bakugou’s fanclub. He’ll build him a shrine, because apparently Bakugou’s not entirely human.

His pockets are empty. Kids moan with disappointment (and to be honest Sero doesn’t know himself if he’s more disappointed or relieved he doesn’t have to build the shrine after all), but Bakugou’s not deterred.

“Well, then maybe you check under your hat, brat,” he addresses the witch girl. She looks at him with doubt but also with hope and takes her hat off.

A dozen of coins fall to the ground. Kids scream — excited, full of awe. Bakugou gathers all the coins from the ground, closes them in both of his cupped hands and shakes them.

“Blow,” he says to the Clever Little Shit. Clever Little Shit does as he’s told and Bakugou opens his palms. There are candies in his palms, the ones that Hagakure likes and of which they got three packages earlier, because she asked. Kids squeal, gather around Bakugou, each takes one candy and there is just excited chatter, no wails for lost parents anymore. Bakugou shows one more magic trick before the hero and his sidekicks appear with the kids’ parents.

The police takes Sero and Bakugou to leave their testimonies, and they’re finally free to go.

“So. Magic tricks,” Sero starts, once they’re on their way to dorms again.

“Shut up.”

“No, dude, wait! It was so cool! You should do it more often.”

Bakugou only grunts something that sounds like “fuck off, I’ll do what I want”. Sero knows Bakugou’s just abashed, because there wasn’t any of his usual bite. He smiles.

He has to tell the rest of the Bakusquad all about it.

Their class gets to know how skilled Bakugou is when one evening they’re all sitting in the common room and Bakugou wants to go to sleep but his friends want him to stay for a movie night. Or, at least one movie. They all deserve a break after a long week full of surprise quizzes! The rest of the class tries to respectfully convince him too, some tell him to “live a little” but before Iida, as the responsible class prez he is, manages to tell everyone that they should respect Bakugou’s opinion instead of flooding him with silly reasonings, Bakugou pulls out a sheet of paper, writes “all the fucks I give” on it, shows it to the whole class (they’re all quiet now, curious what he’ll do, although half sure he will just explode it), then proceeds to make it disappear in a true illusionist fashion.

Some of their classmates lose their shit, some stare in awe, some in shock. Midoriya smiles this soft smile of his, with stars sparkling in his eyes.

[bookofmirth]

after rereading the series and finally finishing silver flames ( which i truly enjoyed, even when there were points which felt disappointing and a little incoherent ) i feel like i can finally pinpoint what is so jarring to me regarding this series. It just seems so disjointed, which becomes especially apparent after reading MaF and the immediately reading WaR.

We move from the first two novels of the series, which are coherent and clean, to WaR - which is hoenstly just a mess, something which was so blatant to me on the reread. during this time, it’s clear that sjm made several massive changes to link this book to the future spin offs, and also obviously changes her original plan to pair mor and azriel - which monumentally changes the way that the previous book is read, and the perception of their characters.

Even with FaS - setting up for cassian and nestas story, sjm completely changes direction between this release and silver flames. And all of that lead up with the Illyrian rebellions and cassians not being respected as a bastard, and his mission fighting for Illyrian female rights - amounts to absolutely nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, I really really enjoyed silver flames, and perhaps some of these ideas will crop up in azriels book and therefore won’t be wasted. But it just makes the series feel disjointed and leaves me at least, feeling unfulfilled.

Sjm is such a good author, in ToG the plot was expertly executed and when you reread the series, you can see hints and foreshadowing even back to book one. She knew exactly where she was going almost from the beginning, and each decision and plot point was used to create impact and build up to the ending. I don’t get that with acotar.

There is so so so much build, and almost no pay off - and I really got that sense in acosf, I loved it as a stand alone - but when we look at it through the perspective of the entire series, there were things which grated and a lot of things which I felt were built up to and nothing happened... Tomas, Cassians mother ( was so sure we would learn where she was buried at least ) the Illyrian rebellions and the Illyrians hatred and disrespect towards Cassian, Mor and Nestas relationship, CASSIAN AND MORS RELATIONSHIP ( I understand that the mor situation will be something which is focused upon primarily in azriels book, or hopefully her own, however their relationship involves Cassian as much as them both and I really wish Cassian had actually confronted the part he played in that whole situation - a part he played for 500 (!!!!) years. It’s a role which he was unable to relinquish in ACOWAR, and actively rejects Nesta to act as a buffer multiple times, seeing it as an obligation almost - and then in SF, pays it no attention at all. Feyre and Nestas relationship also isn’t really touched upon, as if that final act healed everything - what about that interrupted conversation in the library, when Nesta was cut off ? Why Nesta always favoured Elain, even Amren and Nesta - we still don’t really know what happened there... argh there’s just so much potential and so much set up, and it just seems forgotten about ? It makes the book seem disjointed and a bit of a let down.

Yesss I totally get what you mean here. ToG is honestly the superior series, and it’s because it has the cohesion that acotar doesn’t. Everything feels like it’s meant to be there, each character, each worldbuilding detail, their histories, everything just comes together in a wonderful way that just wrecked me when EoS came out and then was resolved perfectly in KoA.

Compared to that, acotar feels like sjm is figuring things out along the way and it is seriously driving me nuts. I’ve had multiple conversations with other people in Discords and they’ve said similar things. acotar at this point feels like sjm is just coming up with random ass ideas and throwing them in. No book in the series feels more like that than acowar. And it was that point where we knew that there would be more books, right? So combined with the fact that she pounded that book out and it got rather half-assed editing, you’re probably right that a lot of things were changed in order to set up the other books, even though it didn’t make sense with what she’d written before. 

I agree with you re: Mor and Az, and I feel like I’ve been seeing more people say that lately? That there is a feeling that they actually were supposed to be together and she changed her mind? I wrote a bunch of fics for them back in the day and they’ve gotten a bit more attention lately. But once acowar came out I was like, I’m gonna reread, and I’m gonna find all the clues, I’m gonna see where all this build-up was, and.... considering how often people say that sjm is so “good” at foreshadowing, I’m sorry, but not in this series. In ToG, yes, because she had a clear goal at the end! She knew where she was going and she stayed on that path. In acotar, idfk. Anyway my point is that I’ve reread the series a couple of times through since acowar came out and I’m still over here shrugging because up until that point, Mor and Az could be read in completely opposite ways. (Maybe it’s an Azriel thing, given the current discourse, idk.)

I will say, however, that we had clues that there was tension between them and I had noted that Az is quiet troubled and even pre-acomaf, I would not have been surprised by his extra in acosf. But all of that could have been addressed with Mor and Az still being together? We all had plenty of explanations at the time for the tension, and Mor being queer was like 1 of 100 of those explanations. 

If we look at Mor’s character through the books we have so far, I still see almost zero signs that she’s queer except for her literally saying “I like women and Rita’s has a lot of women and here’s my gay story”. Other than that, there is like..... nothing that feels organically queer about her!!! And I love her and I want her to be gay af!!!! But I wonder if my forgiveness of how acowar went down was more about my personal reaction than how well the story was actually done.

And the fact that, like you said, there is still no resolution to the fact that Cassian is supposedly a buffer between Mor and Azriel? Like???? We were all sitting here after acowar thinking “okay, well if she’s gay then someone knows. Someone has to know. She can’t just be gay and NO ONE WHO LOVES HER KNOWS.” 

Then in comes acosf with a big “fuck you, y’all thought” which just.... to me, it signals that her queerness was an afterthought. It’s still an afterthought because her queerness is limited to Mor and women blushing at her and Mor has her corner of the world in which she can be gay, but that gay never spills out into any other aspect of her life. It’s just conveniently isolated so that it doesn’t touch or affect other characters. 

In terms of continuity, acowar was such a huge shifting point in the series that people left in droves. It was a huge mess in the fandom. And then acofas was just fluff with no real point in pushing the story forward - even the Nesta stuff was a sneak peek, it had nothing to do with acofas itself. And now acosf comes in ignoring things she had set up previously, with almost zero nuanced discussion of the Cassian/Azriel/Mor thing, which means she still (?) doesn’t know what’s going on there. And I think that we did get some answers with Nesta’s reflection on her relationship with her mother, but the deal with the Illyrian rebellion was just in the way so let’s nix that, and then let’s focus on Eris (🤮) just because she feels like it even though she’s set up all these other characters whose stories need more. (Much like acowar, this paragraph is a MESS LOL)

And yes I KNOW that the series isn’t over, clearly, but she keeps setting things up and then letting them go nowhere, or making them seem important and then resolving them off-page, or changing character relationships (Mor and Az) but then having the characters involved act exactly the same, as if nothing had changed (by having the “buffer” situation still exist as a real thing).

I did enjoy the book, a lot, it was a fun read. But tbh we have so many arguments and disagreements within the fandom rn because things have been so left open to interpretation that we it’s not even a matter of “oh I saw this slightly differently”, it’s “WHAT book did these people even read???” That’s kinda weird, to me. There is reader response, and then there is what we have now, which is people having absolute opposite reactions to what they think happened in acosf. 

[vennilavee]

heat, mind, soul (5)

tsoaf masterlist pairing: levi x reader of color summary: in which there is a party, and you spend the night at the survey corps HQ. and your bar is destroyed. warnings: alcohol, cursing, fluff, smut!!! 18+ word count:  5.3k a/n: i guess 2 months between each chapter is the norm for this story huh

Notification of the pre-expedition party comes in the form of one of the younger survey corps scouts walking into your bar late one evening. You recognize him as the boy you saw on the wall a few days ago. Eren.

When you had your midnight kiss with Levi on top of Wall Rose. His kiss was something that played on repeat in your head, the soft feeling of his lips against yours, his hands over your hips, the way he pressed himself against you when you both fell asleep…

Despite the grimness of this world, his warmth and the map of his hands is a feeling that has fondly crawled into your heart and bloomed. And over the last few days, he’s stopped by when he can, opting to spend the night with you whenever possible. 

It’s moving fast, but with him, it just feels right. And for two souls from the Underground, taking things slow seems like a waste of time. Considering that you both know how fleeting life is. And that small joys should be cherished and held on to for as long as they can.

So you hold on to him. You cherish him. You ask questions about what it’s like beyond the wall, and he only looks at you as if he can see right through you-

“It’s...it would be better without the fuckin’ titans.”

“Oh, you don’t say?”

“It’s endless. There’s so much sky...trees...you would like it. You like that kinda shit.”

Levi pauses, kissing his teeth.

“I’ll take you someday. When this is over.”

You scoff. Tomorrow is not a promise for today, and you both know that.

“You shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep.”

You’re lost in your thoughts for a moment, thoughts of Levi and his steel eyes, when the boy in front of you clears his throat with wide, green eyes. 

Despite him being just a boy, you can see the undercurrent of tragedy and blood in his bright eyes.

“Think you’re a few years shy of legally being able to buy a drink from me, Eren,” You say dryly, wiping a beer glass with a cloth.

“I’m not here for a drink,” Eren says, sounding affronted, “I’m here because the commander wanted to relay a message to you.”

“Your commander and his captain couldn’t come tell me themselves, huh,” You mutter under your breath.

“Oh, you’re telling me that Captain Levi isn’t going to be stopping by soon?” Eren says smugly, without batting an eyelash and you gasp at his attitude.

“That’s-that’s not-” You sputter, cheeks warming up at his grin, “What is the message, Eren?”

“The commander is requesting your services for a party in about a week. He wants you to provide alcohol and drinks for the Survey Corps.”

“O-oh,” You nod, “Yes, I can do that. Just give me the details and I’ll do my best.”

Eren tells you that he and some other members of the Survey Corps will arrive during the day to help bring the barrels and bottles of alcohol over to headquarters. You don’t bother to tell Eren that you are well aware of where the Survey Corps headquarters is located. 

Because Levi somehow trusted you enough with that information.

The thought of seeing the castle where Levi lives sends a rush of nerves through you. He hasn’t invited you himself, not yet at least. After all, he usually stops by your bar more often than not and you’ve never asked to see the castle.

You think that Captain Levi of the Survey Corps probably has more pressing things to worry about than the blossomed feelings of the bartender pining after him.

Perhaps his leg is still slightly hurting him, you think. Levi had mentioned here and there that sometimes his leg would ache at random moments. You wonder how much of him aches and how much of it he internalizes. He hasn’t been by to see you in a few days, and if you’re a little disappointed, you’ll keep it to yourself. 

Because there are more pressing things, and you’ll see him soon enough.

Levi wonders if he should ask you to stay the night. After all, you’ll be essentially hosting this gathering for the rowdy soldiers of the Survey Corps. And you’d probably be tired by the end of the whole ordeal.

He’s already tired from it, and it hasn’t even happened yet. But if you’re there, that makes it a little more bearable.

Levi tries not to stare when you walk into the mess hall with Jean and Connie on either side of you, each carrying a barrel of what he presumes is wine while talking your ear off. And you smile with them, laugh with them.

You’ve been here for two seconds and Levi can already tell that you fit in with them. And he struggles to keep his eyes off of you- the fit of your long black skirt hugging your hips and the green blouse tucked into your skirt, gold hoops on either ear…

Pretty. You look pretty and Levi’s throat goes dry.

He catches your eye and you offer him a crooked smile. Levi makes his way over to you and tells (really, demands) Jean and Connie to go get the other crates of alcohol, and you smile a little wider at him.

“Missed me so much that you wanted to throw a party here, huh?” Levi says, letting his fingers brush over your clothed elbow. His touch is fleeting, barely there, but you can’t help but try to lean closer to him for more.

“You caught me,” You reply dryly, “I wanted to see you so bad that I offered more than half of my stash of liquor for you to consume in a single night. You know, I should report you to the MP’s for encouraging underage drinking. Pretty sure your kids were frothing at the mouth just from the smell of beer.”

“Underage drinking? Yeah, right,” Levi scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “Those kids wouldn’t be able to tell water from wine.”

Levi brushes his pinky finger over yours and the small touch sends your heart accelerating. 

You let out a laugh, your head tipping back in mirth and you miss the flash of fondness in Levi’s grey eyes.

“You gonna give me the official tour or what,” You ask. You’re curious about the space that Levi lives in, about where his friends and colleagues live. The Survey Corps has always felt like an enigma to you- a flurry of forest green capes and silver blades. 

“Maybe later. Don’t you have work to do?” Levi says, voice flat but you catch the undercurrent of teasing.

“You gonna help me? You didn’t even help me bring the barrels inside.”

“You had it covered.”

“Oh, did I? If your kids are drunk off of the fumes, don’t blame me.”

Levi exhales sharply, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. The sound echoes in your heart, a sound you never want to let go of.

“You’re stupid,” Levi mutters and pokes your forehead. You only beam at him.

Organized chaos fills the mess hall quickly once the Survey Corps begins to fill in to the hall. You can’t help but wonder when the last time any of them had laughed like this- were they laughing for themselves or fallen soldiers and comrades? Both? It’s the least you could give them, you think.

The raucous sounds of laughter and shouts emerge from the corner of the mess hall, where you spot Eren and a few other boys his age. Namely, one of them with brown hair. They’re yelling at each other, about to start throwing fists, while a crowd forms around them.

Nobody moves to stop them, but clearly, everyone’s either too intoxicated or too lazy to try. But really, maybe this is a reprieve that they all need. 

The shouts get louder and punches start being thrown. You pay it no mind, expecting someone in the Survey Corps to stop them. Before you can give it another moment of your attention, your vision is blocked.

You look up, somehow maintaining a perfect poker face when you come in contact with Erwin Smith’s deep, blue eyes.

“Was wondering when the Commander himself was going to grace me with his holy presence,” You remark dryly.

He only looks at you in that disarming way. The same way he looked at you the first time you saw him in your bar. And it’s a look you’ve seen on him from years ago.

You’re very familiar with him, it seems. And the thing you both have in common is Levi.

“I assume you found your way here alright?” Erwin asks. He’s intimidating and his mere gaze makes you swallow nervously.

“Yes, Eren and the rest were really helpful. And thank you for asking me to supply you. I’m really-”

“I trust anyone who Levi trusts,” Erwin says simply and your jaw nearly drops.

“Do you?” You can’t help the question and Erwin looks amused.

“Do you have something you want to say?” Erwin asks, his eyebrow raised.

Your palms sweat- should you tell him? Should you tell him that you recall seeing him all those years ago in the Underground? Should you tell him that you and Liya had been paranoid that he and he team were coming for you and your little not-so-legal operation?

“No, not at all,” You shake your head, “And a word of advice- maybe it’s not a good idea to blindly trust anyone who your Captain trusts.”

“Who said anything about blindly trusting anyone?”

And he walks away from you, effectively rendering you speechless. You think he has that effect on people quite often.

By the time the night ends, it’s well past midnight. In fact, it’s closer to three in the morning, and your eyes are burning with sharp fatigue. Most of the Survey Corps soldiers had drank their fill and the descent into drunkenness had been a merry one.

You always love to see how people enjoy the things you create. It’s part of why you genuinely enjoy being a bartender. But making drinks for the entirety of the Survey Corps was pretty taxing, even if you had enjoyed every minute of it.

And if Erwin Smith himself had paid you well and complimented your bartending skills, it was a win for you.

You had managed to have a few drinks of earthwater to ease your nerves, but now you were eager to go home and go to bed. Sleep is calling your name, and yet your eyes always land on Levi.

He hadn’t approached you much during the night. Not that it bothers you. You know he wants to let you be in your element without him as a distraction. But really, he’s not a distraction for you.

Levi sees you yawn a few times and something hesitant gets stuck in his throat. What is he so hesitant for? It’s so late already. It would be stupid for you to walk home right now, let alone walk home alone.

He could walk you home, he supposes. But he doesn’t want to do that either. It’s been a few days since he’s seen you last. Since he’s stayed the night with you.

Maybe you could stay the night with him. For the first time.

Levi scoffs at his own internal monologue.

“It’s late,” Levi says off-handedly. Everyone else has cleared away from the mess hall, taking their drunken antics with them to bed.

“Great observation,” You mutter.

“Stay with me tonight,” Levi says. He says it so easily, as if it’s not the first time he’s asking you to stay with him. He forces himself to look you in the eyes, amused to see a knowing grin on your face.

“I was waiting for you to ask. Can’t believe it took you until three in the morning to ask me to stay the night-”

“Don’t make me rescind my offer.”

“What a gentleman,” You tease.

“Shut up.”

Once the door of his bedroom closes, you immediately tug his wrist and he turns around, about to ask you what’s wrong. But instead, you impatiently press your lips to his, tasting liquor on his tongue immediately. Levi tastes sweet and minty, refreshing like a cool sunrise.

Your hands are instantly in his hair, chest pressed against his. His hands hover over your hips before sinking his fingers over your ass.

“Missed you,” You say into his mouth, your voice soft and sweet. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, somehow already knowing that he was aching to be near you. To hold you, to touch you.

Levi lets himself indulge with you a little longer- the press of your hips against his is too much for him to want to resist. His hand cradles your neck as he steals your breath with soft lips. You don’t think you ever want to live in a world where you can’t feel his quiet desire.

“Wait,” He rasps and you look at him with wide eyes, “Go change.”

“And what would you have me change into?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, “I don’t have clothes here.”

“I have clothes,” Levi murmurs, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“They’ll be small on me-”

“Just try them on,” Levi hushes you and pulls you towards his mahogany armoire. You can’t resist touching the different iterations of his uniform, his dress shirts, his trenchcoat. And then his linen night clothes.

“You’re not shopping,” Levi says dryly, “Stop touching everything.”

You smack his chest lazily. “I’m assessing my options. I guess this’ll do-”

You pull a shirt from his closet, it’s soft under your fingertips and you wonder how it might look on you. Maybe Levi would enjoy the sight of his clothes on you the same way you had enjoyed your own clothes on him. Levi gives you a shirt, similar to the style of the grey linen shirt you enjoy seeing him in.

“Turn around,” You shoo him away.

“I’ve literally seen you naked,” Levi says flatly, but turns around regardless. He hears you rustling your clothes off and hopes that you don’t let your clothes drop to the floor. What a mess.

You neatly fold your clothes and place them inside his armoire, tucked into the corner. Levi can’t resist turning around and catching a peek of your bare legs, a hint of cotton black panties, and the way his shirt cinches around your waist.

Levi swallows. 

“Told you it wouldn’t fit,” You say pointedly, “Look at this-”

Levi’s looking alright. His shirt rides up on you, your bare belly and your hips calling for his touch. The shirt is tight over your chest, your breasts defined and detailed by the fit of the shirt. You’re afraid to raise your arms too high, for fear of ripping the shirt.

“Looks great to me,” Levi murmurs, stepping closer to you. His hands instantly grip your hips, your warm skin under his fingertips and pliant to his touch. 

“You’re only saying that because you have to,” You roll your dark eyes playfully and smack his chest. He takes your wrist, thumb absently soothing your pulse and he raises your wrist to his lips. He presses a light kiss to your inner wrist, leaving your heart fluttering and your lips upturned.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Levi points out.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “But you should kiss me-”

Levi easily picks you up, his hands tight on your thighs and carries you to his bed, dropping you carefully on his crisp, cotton sheets. Everything smells like him, his beige sheets, his pillow, his covers. You could drown, and you’d gladly sink in love with him.

You’re both a synchronized mess of limbs and lips, of murmurs and moans- neither of you can get enough of touching the other. It’s only been a few days, maybe a week or so, but you’re overcome with a familiar feeling. A familiar feeling of longing, of not wanting to let him go. You cross your ankles hastily around his narrow waist, pulling him closer to you.

The dimming light of the candle at Levi’s bedside illuminates the soft planes of your face, giving your brown skin a fiery glow. You look like you belong here, your dark hair a sharp contrast against his sheets. You look like you belong here, with him, in between his sheets and fitting in the rough crevices of your hands.

But your hands are rough, too, in the way that they scale his back. Your touch is rough but gentle against his scarred skin. The scars on your skin match some of his and he squeezes your hands as he dips his head to meet your rouged lips. 

Levi wonders if he should pull away from you. Not just from this moment, but from you in all of your fire. If embracing his feelings for you is dangerous, then he’ll be a risk to himself.

If his feelings are something to avoid for some grand, noble cause that he doesn’t quite understand, he won’t. Not when he’ll regret it if he does. Not when the noises he pulls from you, the soft sighs and breathy calls of his name sound so sweet to his ears. Not when the cacophony of your sweet noises shoot straight down to his cock.

He won’t deny himself of this divine rapture- nothing would ever compare to the way your moans crescendo in his ear, only for your wet, warm walls to squeeze down all around him. Levi kisses the junction in between your shoulder and your neck, panting into your glistening skin as he rolls his hips into yours. His hands are bruising over your hips, hands squeezing every inch of your skin that he can.

Levi’s eyes are blazing, bits of grey steel sputtering out in ash when he looks at you. The intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks heat up, and instead you tip your head up for a needy kiss.

He curls a hand around your warm cheek, stilling inside of you momentarily. “Are you with me?” Levi murmurs. He’s so close to your face that soft puffs of his breath tickles your nose.

“Yes,” You mumble hoarsely, “I’m with you.”

Waking up next to Levi in his bed felt as natural as anything else in the world. As the sun rose, illuminating his bedroom with soft rays of gold, you did, too. Specifically, you woke up to Levi’s hands on you and his lips attached to the back of your neck.

You could get used to this. You could really get used to this.

“You don’t have anything to do today?” You ask, sleep still curled in your voice.

“Couple things later,” Levi murmurs, “For now, just us.”

“Okay,” You hum, closing your eyes and almost drifting back into sleep.

Mornings with Levi are slow and steady. Just the way you like it. No interruptions outside of the concrete walls of his bedroom, only your breaths and his. He slots himself between your legs and you make a home out of him as the sunlight pours onto your skin.

Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as the golden sunshine on your brown skin. 

Once you and Levi are both dressed, Levi wordlessly hands you something heavy in your hands. It’s in a sleek, black box and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What’s this? Parting gift?” You ask. Levi rolls his eyes and opens the box for you. It’s a silver dagger, one that looks a little used.

You look up at him with wide, confused eyes. 

“In case you need it,” Levi says simply.

In case you need something to remember me by.

A bullet almost as wide as your palm slings past you and into the shelf of alcohol behind you. Before you can shout at whoever it was for destroying your precious liquor, a piercing pain erupts from your upper arm.

Blood drips down your arm, staining the edges of your nice blouse. The bullet grazed your bare arms apparently and Levi meets your eyes from his position behind the bar counter. Silently, you tell him you’re fine and to handle his mess. He gives you a curt nod and eyes the bottle of alcohol in front of him and takes your shotgun.

He always would ask you why you had a shotgun if you never learned how to properly use it. And you’d tell him you’ve always been a knife kind of girl, as he should know.

You briefly wonder how Levi reacts so quickly. Are you in shock? Why are you thinking about Levi’s quick reflexes when your arm is bleeding out? You feel lightheaded but you force yourself to stay awake and stand firm. It’s your bar, and you’ll be damned if anyone gets in the way of that.

Words and the shouts around you sound muffled to your ears. You briefly hear Levi and the stranger with a fedora exchange a few remarks, before Levi lifts your shotgun over his head and shoots. Your ears are ringing fiercely and you barely hear Levi mutter to you that he’ll try to come back to you before tossing one of your bar stools out of the door and into the stranger.

“That’s my fuckin chair,” You mutter, “Ass.”

Levi doesn’t look back at you before swinging away on his cables. You hear the sharp twist of blades and the booming sound of bullets fill the air once more before black dots coat your vision and you pass out.

Cradling your left arm close to your chest, you survey the damage at your bar. The bar top itself is split in half with stray pieces of wood littering the floor. The stench of fear and adrenaline lingers in the air, even though it’s just you in the bar.

You decide to tell Levi that you’re putting the damages on the Survey Corps’ tab.

You had woken up several hours ago in the infirmary, with a nurse and a doctor looking at you warily-

The throbbing in your arm had subsided for the most part but you just felt so… woozy. 

“We cleaned out your wound while you were passed out. Unfortunately, it does require stitches. Eight to be exact.”

“You couldn’t do that when I was passed out, too?” You groan hoarsely. Stiffness begins to settle into your left arm and you wince.

And about thirty minutes after that, you had left the infirmary alone with only the new moon as your company. You vaguely remember Misaki being in the infirmary with you, but you had told her to go home. She had a younger sister to take care of, after all. That much you remember, in your exhausted delirium.

Sweat breaks out over your forehead when you attempt to pick up the pieces of broken wood from the floor. You manage to clean all of two feet of space before giving up from exertion. You sit in front of what remains of your bar counter and lean your head back with your eyes closed.

What a day. You hope Levi’s okay, and that whatever reason he had for dramatically slamming into your bar completely unannounced was worth it.

He’d roll his eyes at you if he heard you.

“You gonna sit there all day or what?” A voice, quite possibly one of your favorite voices, calls from the entrance of your bar.

“We’re closed. For construction,” You reply, still with your eyes closed.

You hear his footfalls before they stop right in front of your crossed legs and he crouches down to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers brush over your bandages and you finally open your eyes to come face to face with Levi himself.

“Hey,” You murmur, the last bits of your strength evaporating into the air with your words.

“You should be resting,” Levi says, eyes intensely trained on you. 

“I suppose,” You reply, “You should be resting, too.”

You eye the cut over his eyebrow and splotches of dried blood caked over his cheeks. You wonder if it’s his blood.

“Couldn’t even make it upstairs?” Levi asks, ignoring your comment.

“Obviously not,” You roll your eyes.

“I should leave you here. For that mouth of yours.”

“Shut up. I quite literally took a bullet for you, so help me up, Captain Levi.”

His eyes soften marginally at that. He pulls away from you to quickly clear away the broken pieces of wood strewn across the floor. He hoists you up with his hands gently over your ribcage. You’ll never deny his touch on any part of you, and you both know it.

Levi carries you to your small but cozy apartment above the bar when he sees you fighting off fatigue. He wonders if you do that for his benefit. Pretend like you’re not the most tired you’ve been in a long time just so he doesn’t feel bad about it.

He knows of your tough exterior and he knows your smart mouth. But he knows that you’re soft, too.

Levi seats you on the edge of your bed and you watch him flit around your apartment with tired eyes. He’s been here enough times to know where things are- ointment, bandages, medicine, water.

“Stitches?” 

“Eight of them,” You nod.

Levi wordlessly peels your bandages off of your skin. You expect a sharp sting, but there is none. Only Levi’s rough fingers gently prodding at your skin.

“I could’ve done a better job,” Levi scoffs, “Look at this. It’s going to leave a scar.”

“Should I have waited for you while you brought your fancy medical supplies?” You snark, “Besides, it’s okay. Nobody will fuck with me now.”

Levi ducks his head to examine your stitches further, but you’re certain he’s rolling his eyes at you again. His fingers are gentle and warm along the outer areas of your fresh stitches. He washes his hands before dabbing ointment over the gash and wrapping it with new bandages. 

“You should watch what I’m doing, rather than stare at me. I won’t be around to change your bandages every night,” Levi says without looking at you.

“What an honor that would be,” You mutter, “Having you stay longer than a night. What a dream.”

He hears the bite in your teasing, but lets it go. Hands brush over his cheek, fingers flitting over his eyebrow curiously. You pad across the skin there, satisfied when you feel a mostly healed cut.

“And you? You were bleeding when you flew in here. Who was that guy anyway? Can’t believe he fuckin’ shot me. In my own fuckin’ bar. What an ass.”

“That was Kenny.”

“That was Kenny?”

“Yes, close your mouth. You look like a fish out of water.”

“How else do you want me to react? The guy who raised you is trying to kill you? What the hell, Levi?”

“He’s part of the shitty MP now. With the interior police.”

He can’t hide the disdain in his voice.

“Wasn’t he the one who killed over a hundred MP’s? Kenny the Ripper?”

“The one and only.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, fingers reaching behind him to lightly scratch his undercut. Levi dares to let out a quiet sigh, closing his eyes and allowing himself a few moments of silence. And you. You press your forehead to his, a light breath tickling his nose.

Dark circles under his closed eyes are prominent and his shoulders seem to slump in your embrace. He’s tired, even if he’ll never say it.

“Stay with me tonight?” You whisper, breaking the silence. Levi opens his slate grey eyes and peers into your own, reluctance already swirling in them.

You press a kiss to his jaw. His cheek. The corner of his mouth. Finally, his lips. As if you’re trying to coax him into staying with you.

Like he needed any persuasion to begin with.

“I have to leave early tomorrow,” Levi finally says. You nod and he buries his head in your neck, breaths soft and steady against your skin. His chapped lips are rough but welcome over your throat as he kisses you. Levi is gentle with you, mindful of your arm, as he melts into you wordlessly.

You wonder if this man knows the extent of how deeply he’s burrowed himself within you. You wonder if he knows that your blood and your heart belong to him.

The words, the confession. It never comes, no matter how often you think of spilling the words from your lips. It remains silent in your throat, caged away like a bird that will never sing.

You tug at Levi’s shirt, trying to lift it off of him with one hand. Mostly, you want to see if he has any fresh bruises that need attention. But you always get distracted by him and his curious hands.

But tonight, you can tell his mind is wandering. And you can tell he needs to sleep. You wish he’d sleep with you for half a day, or even sleep in with you once in a while. But you can only dream.

“Levi,” You say softly, “Will you help me get out of these clothes? I’m so tired. Kinda want to just… lay down.”

You rub your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder. You sigh contentedly as his hand rubs your back and you lazily rub his chest.

“Sit up then,” He murmurs. He knows where your sleep clothes are, and pulls out one of two shirts he had given to you weeks ago. To remember him by.

Levi undresses you, deliberately sending you little shocks with his touch across your warmed skin. His lips are upturned slightly. He’s being playful. He tosses your clothes in your laundry bin as you crawl into bed, waiting for him.

“Wait,” You say sheepishly, “Can I have some water? I mean, I’d do it myself. But I’m just so cozy right now.”

Levi kisses his teeth in pretend annoyance but brings two glasses of water to bed with him. One for you and one for him. You drink generously, watching him change into sleep clothes before he blows out the candle on your nightstand. Levi climbs into your bed and immediately pulls you to him, fingers under your shirt instantly. His arm is around your waist, wrapped around you, quiet and steady. He’s careful not to touch your injured arm. 

There are a million things you want to say to him. You want to speak to him until the sun comes up, not wanting to waste a second more with him. You want to hear about every second of his day and you want to tell him about every second of yours. His time with you is rare and limited and you’re always left yearning for more when he inevitably leaves you for the world.

His world. The one without you in it.

You swallow those slippery thoughts down, and instead snake your fingers through his hair and enjoy the way he hums into your neck. Levi rubs the bandaged area around your arm gingerly. His touch is gentle and featherlight, yet still somehow carrying all the words he doesn’t say in it.

“I need to get you another chair, I think.”

“You need to get me another bar, I think. I’m putting it on the Survey Corps’ tab. It’s a Levi tax. A levy if you will.”

“Hilarious,” Levi mutters, but you hear the airy chuckle against your skin. You laugh with him, before turning towards him and cupping his cheek. He meets your dark eyes, peering at you as if he can see your heart beating through your gaze.

“Sleep, Levi. Wake me before you go,” You say softly, pressing a fierce kiss to his lips.

Levi allows himself to get lost in you, in your familiar jasmine scent. He allows himself the luxury of a lover stealing his breath away at least once more.

Sleep comes easily for him that night. As it usually does, when he’s with you.

tags: @simpingmaize @captainchrisstan @alrightberries @kentobean​ @melancholicmonologue​

[dimonds456]

TOH Season 2, 4 Theories (SPOILERS!)

So we're only 4 episodes in, and there's a LOT going on. I have 3 theories (and one that's more speculation) that I want to share (that have probably already been discussed before, but I haven't seen them, so here I go), and they're all beneath the cut! I wanna talk about King, Belos, and a third one that might surprise you, but I can't say just yet because ~dramatic buildup.~

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

THEORY 1: King is a Titan

This has been a theory since Season 1, but it's reeeeally getting expanded upon here. It's hinted at that King might have a deeper backstory than he's been given, if those carvings and his memory gaps are anything to go off of.

However, we can find proof in his design and the design in that of the Boiling Isles themselves. They were birthed from an actual Titan, right? We see the Titan's still-beating heart in Belos' throne room. The Isles are his organs and ribcage. His skull sits in the water, eye sockets looking out over all.

Lookit it all. Gross. :)

Now look at his skull specifically. He's got those two horns on top of his head, looking to be a similar-to-exactly-the-same shape as King's, which is even more apparent since his other horn is fixed now.

(Side theory, King's collar is a glyph, look at the design. What does it do? idk, but I think it's gonna be Epic, and perhaps only he or another Titan can activate it. But I have no proof and just wanted to throw that one out there for consideration.)

Different noses, sure, but this Titan is also more mature. And bigger. That could change as King gets older.

If this theory is true, then that means Emperor Belos- who is rumored to be able to communicate WITH THE BOILING ISLES TITAN- is going to want King at some point. If he is able to RAISE A TITAN, that would strengthen the theory that he has this ~special connection~ with the Titan and put him in so much more power. King is easy to please, too, meaning that he might go along with it.

Leading me to:

THEORY 2: Belos is a human

Look at this series of quotes from Gwen Clawthorne from S2E4:

(Starting with when she says "You're not the only human to have lived in Bones Burrow," but image limit, so.)

[Image ID: four screenshots from The Owl House. The first is a picture of Gwen with the quote "there's a rare substance called Titan's blood." The next is Gwen in a different pose, with the quote "it is extremely powerful, and oftentimes causes leaks between our realms." The third is a picture if Luz, with her eyes wide with shock. Gwen is still speaking though, with the quote "but humans... are rare." The fourth is back to Gwen, with her hands up and the quote "my great-grandmother told me about a human who once lived here, but one day, he just vanished." End ID.]

"a human who once lived here, but one day, he just vanished."

Notice the use of he/him pronouns here. I was originally thinking it was whoever wrote the Azura books- and that is not off the table, really- but... the circumstances of him just vanishing are suspicious at best and earth-shattering at worst.

What if he never left?

We have never seen Belo's face. He was breathing hard when we first saw him, implying he's sick somehow, but was better after he Murdered a Man and poured goop in his eyes. He's never actually used magic before that we've seen. The only hint of power is that he's able to "talk with the Titan" and therefore that makes him better.

If he truly is a human, then that would be why he wears the mask. His ears would look like Luz's, not like a resident of the Boiling Isles. He has no magic. Or, if he does, he's channeling it in a way similar to Luz herself. He's been here for a LONG TIME, meaning he's becoming old and frail- or he should be, if it weren't for the Miracle Eye Healing Goop.

This would explain the portal Eda found out in the woods, and why Belos knows what it is. It was his portal. But, because Eda had it by the time he realized he wanted it back for whatever nefarious purposes he wanted that portal back for, he never got it.

But he's living literally right next to the Titan's still-beating heart. If Titan's blood is what allows for dimensional rifts, like Gwen says it can do, that means his throne is located directly in front of Luz's way home. He just needs a way to open the rift, which is where the portal comes in. The portal is there to channel the blood and create a rift on purpose, just like Eda's old portal could.

In fact, Luz probably has the "key" to opening that rift already. She just needs the blood and a vessel to complete the ritual.

Really think about it. Luz comes from our world, pretty much just as it is, and enters the Boiling Isles, where there is no discrimination on the same level of humanity. You can love freely, be freely, and crimes are judged on the action, not the person. Belos would have come from that same world, and saw how free it is here. If he wanted to take control and power, the only way he could ever do so would be to have the witches living here willingly give up their magic. He could not force them. So, he came up with the lie he can speak to the Titan.

Or, if it's not a lie, he used that power for evil instead of good. This leaves the implication that,

THEORY 3: Luz can ALSO talk to the Titan

This one is just speculation, but if Belos can do it, why not she? And if this IS a real ability Belos has, and he's been lying to everyone, Luz could be able to actually speak to the Titan and find out what it really wants. I imagine that it's probably not happy with Belos, but it can't just move or the entire Isles get destroyed. Or, he's physically unable to. Or perhaps, she can find out why the Titan wants magic restrained and find a different way.

If Belos is a human, then he and Luz contrast each other in that their journeys are the same. They both stumbled into this world by accident, they came from a world that wanted to stifle them, they entered a free world, and they wanted to stay.

The difference here is the power. While Belos reached for it, I predict Luz will be presented with a similar opportunity and throw it away. She becomes powerful in that she has her friends behind her, and that's all she needs. Her power comes from her determination and selflessness, whereas Belos' comes from his lies and selfishness.

Though, that story sounds familiar doesn't it? Which leads me to my final theory...

THEORY 4: The Good Witch Azura

I have 2 theories for this one, but they can both be grouped under one, so here we go.

Theory A) The Good Witch Azura was a REAL WITCH.

If these rifts can open because of Titan's blood, then there's a good chance that people like Eda had found the human world, too. And decided to stay for whatever reason.

Azura may have been writing an autobiography, or wanted to share to the human world about the Boiling Isles without directly saying it exists. Maybe she/they wanted to just get away from it, but missed the way it used to be, and expressed that through writing that happened to get popular.

Another mini theory that falls under this one is the idea that maybe someone tried to stand up to Belos early on, a sort of mirror to modern Eda. She/they saw how corrupt the system would become, and decided to flee or find help.

Theory B) Belos WROTE the Azura books

Now hear me out.

Going back to the 'Belos is a human' theory, that means he came from the human world, and for a time, he had a way of going back and forth between realms before he either lost or rejected his portal. Well, I don't know what his plans are, but if the fact that he's trying to get back to the human world are any indication, then I'd say he wants humans to know.

What if he's trying to spread his power and control? He has all the most powerful witches working under him, right? So it'd be easy to declare war on humanity. Just drop in without warning, cause havoc, and leave before they can retaliate. Then, do the same to a different location and leave before they can do anything. Do this again and again at random, and eventually, they surrender.

So why the Azura books? Well, I'm not entirely sure, but he's marketing books that are shockingly similar to how magic works in the Boiling Isles to humans, with messages about cheesy love and acceptance and working together. Humans eat that stuff right up. He may be testing the waters somehow.

I gotta be honest, I don't know why he'd write about those things, and the only episode I have to go off of is the writing/crunchtime episode from Season 1.

Oh, and this.

[Image ID: The same scene with Gwen that was shown before, but a continuation of the quote. Two screenshots this time, the first with the quote "Rumor has it he left something in the library, and- if you can find it-" then continued, "and if you can find out more about him..." End ID]

Luz: "Maybe I could find out how he got here!"

What if that something is the Azura books? What if there's a secret hidden within their pages, asking the humans to seek the witches out? Asking them to be entranced with this wondrous world, just as he was? What if he's asking them to come here?

"Knock knock, human."

Seasons 2 and 3 are gonna be wild.

[iamcayc]

Chapter 2: Kids

Fandom: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Gojo Satoru/Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Flirting, Developing Relationship, Original Character(s), Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, annoyances to lovers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Vaginal Fingering, Heavy Petting, Gojo Satoru is a Little Shit

---

The phone ringing startles you as you’re sitting on your couch, a true crime documentary on the television as the soundtrack to your night of grading essays. There’s still half a stack of essays to slog through, and only one more glass of wine left in the bottle on your coffee table.

You glance at the screen of your phone, frowning at the name you see.

“What’s up, Nanami?” The phone rests against your shoulder as you scribble a barely-passing grade on the paper in your hand.

“You busy?”

Well, this isn’t going to end well.

“I’m almost out of wine and have twelve more essays to suffer through before I can call it a night.” Nanami chuckles at your predicament. “So, yeah, I guess you can say I’m a bit busy. Why?”

Nanami sighs and you can just see him rubbing his temple as he tries to work out a way to ask you something he knows you aren’t going to like.

“Spit it out, would ya?” you probe with a sigh.

“Satoru wants your help with a mission.”

Your frown immediately deepens. “I already told him that I’m not a sorcerer.”

A muffled series of thwumps and thuds force you to hold the phone away from your ear before a new voice chirps through the device.

“Technically, you only told me that you have asthma,” Gojo says brightly. “You didn’t say anything about not being a sorcerer.”

Your eyes narrow at nothing in particular. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re the kind of guy who likes to point out technicalities?”

Gojo chuckles, the sound a warm caress through the phone. You’re fairly certain that’s mostly the wine reacting, but you aren’t taking any chances.

“Regardless, let me make it perfectly clear to you: I am not any kind of practicing, jujutsu sorcerer,” you say slowly, clearly. “I received enough training to keep my energy in check and help out where I can as a Window since I work at a school and know what to look for. Now, if you’d be so kind as to return my cousin’s phone, I’d like to tell him to make himself available for you since he is sorcerer.”

A soft grunt sounds as you listen to the phone getting passed back to Nanami. “I’m sorry, Kaya. I tried explaining—where the fuck are you going? Satoru!”

As he shouts Gojo’s name, a polite knock sounds at your door. You leap to your feet, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Kaya? Kaya, are you there?” Nanami’s voice sounds tired. “Do not open that door. You give this guy a fucking inch and he takes a mile.”

“Are you telling me that the random-ass person knocking on my door right now is Gojo?” you ask tersely. “Because I’m pretty fucking sure I live a solid distance away from your school.”

Nanami sighs and mutters a series of graphic swears as the person at the door begins to knock on the door to the beat of “Mary had a Little Lamb.”

“I can’t tell you if he’s being so stubborn because he genuinely needs your technique, or if he’s only thinking with his cock, but you do not have to answer that door.” You snort, not buying for a second that Gojo has any intention of giving up so quickly.

“I’m never having dinner with you again,” you hiss into the phone before hanging up. As far as you’re concerned, this is all Nanami’s fault for allowing Gojo to crash their weekly dinner. You toss the phone on your couch before stomping towards the door and yanking it open to reveal a casually-dressed Gojo leaning against the jamb with a grin.

“What the fuck do you want?” you ask with thinly-veiled hostility. Gojo ignores the venom and grins wider.

“I have to say,” he remarks, “I think you’ve got the most beautiful eyes when you’re irritated.”

You haven’t wanted to throttle someone in so long, you forgot what it felt like to have your blood boil.

“What do you want?” you ask again, this time through gritted teeth.

“Your help.” Gojo tilts his head innocently as he looks at you. “Pretty please?”

The bubbling frustration with this man isn’t something you need your neighbors witnessing, so you step aside and yank him through the door, surprised that he allowed you to grab hold of him at all, considering what you know of him.

You ignore his chuckle as you stomp back into your living room and pause your documentary, knowing you’ll likely have to restart the whole thing since you missed so much thanks to the asshat currently making himself comfortable on your couch. He stretches his arm along the back of the sofa, tilting his head back to look at you.

“You’ve got a nice place for a teacher.” You stare at him. He did not just backhand compliment you. “Though, the sound proofing tiles are a little odd.”

“You’re an asshole,” you tell him with a glare. “And now that I am fully aware of the fact that you have highly selective hearing, let me say this one more time: I have absolutely no interested in joining your mission.”

“Because of your asthma, right?”

Dear fucking god, you want to punch him.

“And the fact that I’m not a fucking sorcerer. I have never and will never work as one.”

“Why not?” Gojo watches you as you sink onto a pillow on the floor at the coffee table. “Nanamin isn’t anywhere near my level and he still makes a solid living doing exorcisms.”

You look at him as you pick up your red pen. “If you had to quantify the actual size of your ego, how big would it be?”

The jab is ignored with a dismissive wave. “Your cursed technique, it’s based on sounds that you personally create, right?”

“I mean, it’s definitely bigger than your dick. There’s no way that thing is bigger than a handful of centimeters, considering the way you carry on every time I have the displeasure of seeing you.”

“But that can’t be it, because if that were the case, you would be wreaking havoc on the populace if you so much as farted.”

“I wonder what that server thought when you finally whipped it out, after doing everything she could think of to get your attention? Ha! I bet she was so disappointed.”

Gojo leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he grins at you. His aura is practically dancing around him; he’s loving every second of this.

“You really didn’t like her, did you?”

“I really didn’t care either way.” Half-truth, but who’s counting? “I just got tired of seeing her tits every time she came to check on us. That, and her aura was starting to make me motion sick with the undulating and buzzing.”

He raises a white brow. “You can see auras?”

“I heard them first. I’ve always been sensitive to sounds.” You frown at the introductory paragraph of the paper in your hand. Did you students even read the assignment? “I only started to see the auras after training with Nanami.”

“I’ve never heard of someone hearing an aura... what’s mine sound like?”

You look up at him, surprised to see that he’d taken off the sunglasses he’d been wearing to pin you with those eyes. Why is someone so far up their own ass this hot?

Setting down your pen, you take a breath to center yourself, allowing your own aura to reach out to his. You let your eyes guide the edges of your aura along the edges his, like a bow across a string. If Gojo feels anything, he doesn’t say; he just watches you with an intense expression.

At some point, you let your eyes meet his, and that’s when his aura begins singing to you.

“You sound like a cello’s mid-range, that sweet spot of notes on the G and D strings.”

“What does your sound like?”

The question throws you off. No one has ever asked about yours before. It’s not that you don’t know how your aura sounds, but rather, you aren’t sure how to explain what you hear.

“It sounds like me,” you reply plainly. “I sound like... just me.”

He regards you quietly before letting his cheek rest on his fist. His gaze softens as he looks at you, sending whatever traces of annoyance you feel towards him scattering into nothing.

“There have been reports of a cursed human loose in a residential area outside of Hidaka. Some sightings have it listed as a child, others say it's a few adults. But all the witnesses agree that whatever it is, it’s luring children from the area into the woods.”

“Is this the part where you tell me why Six Eyes needs me to find some cursed human in the woods?”

He shrugs. “I’m not good with kids.”

You snort. “You’re a teacher.”

“And you’ll notice that my students are well above the age of 6 years old.”

“So are mine.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“Pot, meet kettle.” You set down your pen and look at him seriously. “And before you throw my whole aura-sight at me, I’ll point out that you seemed to have no idea that I could see auras until a few minutes ago. So, tell me why you want my help on a mission you and your students are more than equipped to handle on your own?”

Gojo leans back against the couch once again and sighs. You let silence creep into the space between you. His aura isn’t singing anymore, but it isn’t agitated, so you haven’t totally pissed him off. Yet.

“I want you to lure the curses out and get them to bring the missing kids with them.” One of his hands slides through his hair. “At least, that was my initial idea. But, if you can see and hear auras, that might help us get the kids out before shit goes south with the curses.”

You frown. “That original plan assumes that I can control more than one curse at a time, which isn’t the most fool-proof, either. I’m not being modest when I say that I’m not a sorcerer, I’m being honest. Your dark-haired student’s aura is more powerful than mine, and he wasn’t even trying to let me see his aura.”

Gojo considers you quietly, his blue eyes shimmering in the artificial light of your apartment. You’re tempted to examine the shifting colors of his irises up close, until you remember that you know better than to let your body anywhere near a man that self-confident.

“I’d say you’re an upper Grade 3, just as you are now. Properly motivated, maybe a Grade 2. Still, that’s more than enough to draw out a few curses. I don’t need you to exorcise them, only get their attention and make them a bit more docile for the kids to take out.”

“You really aren’t going to let this one go, are you?” you ask him, sighing as you rest your chin on the heel of your palm. He flashes you a bright grin, sending an armada of butterflies up your stomach and into your throat.

“Nope.”

You lean back on your palms as you look at him. You have no interest in telling him that you’ve already decided to help since there are missing kids involved, so you let him watch you watch him. Because, maturity.

“And what do I get out of this? Other than a potential asthma attack?”

His grin slips into a smirk. “What do you want?”

You raise your brow, knowing full well what he’s insinuating. “I don’t touch sloppy seconds, thanks. I was thinking more along the lines of a few bottles of really nice wine, or maybe an expensive whisky. Or, if you’re feeling really guilty about triggering my asthma, never asking me to help with your job ever again.”

“Since I’m feeling generous, why don’t you decide after you’ve helped me out? You know, see how much effort you have to put in and get the most reward for your buck.”

You don’t trust that new sparkle in his eyes as you agree to his terms.

You only agree to meet Gojo and the others after school the next day because the sooner you’re done with this favor, the better. Then, you can get back to watching Netflix specials on serial killers and grading piss-poor essays on the Baroque movement in peace.

The grounds of the Tokyo Jujutsu High School are well kept, despite there being so few students enrolled. The spans of the campus practically begged to be bustling with chattering students, but all it gets is the occasional grumpy alumni and sporadic admissions.

It wouldn’t hurt to plant some flowers either.

“I told you she wasn’t going to show up with a flute or drum!” You glance over your shoulder and see Gojo leading the two boys from before and a new addition, a girl with down-turned eyes and a bored expression.

Gojo inclines his head towards you by way of greeting. “Kaya, you saw these two yesterday, Yuji and Megumi.” His thumb points out Pinky first, then the dark-haired kid whose temperament you like. “This is my other first-year, Nobara.”

You wave with a polite smile, your teacher’s smile. “Nice to meet you all.”

Nobara peers at you a little longer, her eyes sweeping up and down your outfit with analytical eyes. You couldn’t wait to hear what a sixteen year old has to say about your clothes. You chose to swap out your black jeans for a sturdy pair of athletic leggings to increase mobility, though you are acutely aware of how tight the pants are, especially around your ass.

You pick at an invisible lint on the sleeve of your jacket. Gojo is doing a marvelous job of surveying your… assets.

“I want you to design our new uniforms,” she declares boldly. You blink in surprise since that is definitely not what you were expecting. Not sure what’s so stunning about leggings and a rarely-used running shirt, even if it has Gojo eyeballing your butt with enough heat to send his aura in languid waves around him.

“Thanks, I think.” You slip on your leather jacket and look over at Gojo with an arched brow. “Are you finished gawking? I have classes to teach tomorrow, and there’s nothing worse than trying not to make a bunch of teenage girls cry when you’re too tired to tell them their god-awful piano composition sounds like something out of a third-rate anime.”

If they thought Nobara offers up some hot takes, they need to see you with less than six hours of sleep and a full day of classes on the horizon.

Gojo chuckles as he rubs his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. There is something unfairly sensual about the motion, and extremely predatory. Frowning slightly, you turn away and hand the kids the the earplugs you had stuffed in your pocket before you’d left the apartment.

“What’re these for?” Yuji asks, inspecting the bits of foam like you just handed him cocaine. .

“Maestro, here, uses a cursed technique rooted in sound.” You feel Gojo sling his arm around your shoulders. “Though, seems like she didn’t bring enough for me to get a pair, too.”

You shoot him a look. “You know precisely why I didn’t bother. Now, can we please get a move on?”

Wordlessly, the kids gather around and latch onto Gojo’s jacket, and you brace yourself for the gut-punch that comes along with teleporting. Nanami graciously informed you of Gojo’s aptitude for warping after a series of threats of bodily harm that exponentially increased in severity the more he dodged your questions. In that time, you realized that Gojo’s perpetual use of Limitless could stop your technique without a thought.

You’re in the midst of replaying a particularly entertaining memory of Nanami squealing like a pig after you started to make him juggle kitchen knives when you feel a strong hand press you against Gojo’s chest by the small of your back. Sputtering with utter indignation, you glare up at the grinning man, wishing with every fiber of your being that your knee could make contact with his balls at that moment.

“Ready, maestro?”

“Fuck off, Gojo.” Yuji snickers from behind him. Gojo watches you expectantly and your glare deepens. “I’m ready.”

“There’s a good girl.”

“Dude, keep that shit up and she’s going to find a way around your Limitless to kick your ass,” Megumi mutters from the right. “And Lord knows, the majority of us will sell tickets to that show.”

You don’t hear Gojo’s reply as you're lost in trying not to hurl all over the man as he yanks your body through space. The surrounding trees whisper and rustle in the evening breeze, the low glow of the sunset making the setting feel eerie. You hope the missing kids are okay, but you’re jaded enough to know better. Rolling your shoulders, you shake off the creeping shadows of memories you’ve worked hard to ignore on a daily basis.

“You’re up, Kaya.” Gojo nods at you as he removes his blindfold, his eyes more aquamarine in the dying light. “Think you can tag the auras for me?”

“Everyone got their earplugs in?” you ask the teenagers behind you. They all respond with solemn nods, their expressions resolute. You glance at Gojo, his eyes unseeing but all-seeing as he looks out into the forest around you.

“When I start singing, Six Eyes should pick up any auras my technique hits, like sonar.” It’s been over a year since you last sang, but you’d prepped your vocal cords most of the day with hot tea and a couple shots of bourbon before heading to the school. “I’ll also be willing whatever hears me to come to me as I sing.”

He looks at you with slight concern. “How long can you sustain that?”

You set square your shoulders and look back out into the darkness ahead. “As long as I need to. My priority will be the kids, you guys can deal with the cursed human.”

He nods as you take a deep breath to settle the flurry of nerves in your stomach. Why are you so nervous about singing in front of Gojo, of all people? His opinion has never mattered to you, since the moment he crashed your dinner. Who cares if he doesn’t like the song choice or if he thinks your voice is garbage?

“Unsteady” by X Ambassadors is a go-to warm up song for you. It sits right in your chest range, so it’s easy to project as you start walking slowly into the woods. Besides, you know how it feels to beg someone, anyone for help but end up ignored instead.

Gojo’s footfalls are nearly silent as he stalks behind you, but your voice makes his aura pulse against your own. It’s a comforting feeling, lending you more courage than you were feeling, that’s for sure.

A sharp rustling to your left makes you pause, the movement too harsh and erratic to dismiss as an animal. The icy blue of the aura halos around a tiny form, the fear tinkling like a shrill bell being shaken by a child. Gojo stiffens behind you, but you raise your palm before shooing him back.

Without faltering in the song, you crouch down in the direction of the stumbling child, pulling a small handbell from your other jacket pocket. A steady, calming beat in time with your singing pulses forward, coaxing the child out slowly as her aura shifts from pale blue to a saturated cobalt.

A little girl, no older than six or seven, flies into your arms, making your stumble in your singing. She’s coated in dirt and gods know what else, clutching your jacket so tight that her tiny knuckles turn white.

“You caught the culprit’s attention,” Gojo chuckles as you soothe the frightened child into letting go of your jacket. She clings to your leg when you stand, her snot and tears soaking into your leggings. You try not to cringe, but Gojo catches your obvious distaste and laughs, earning him a glare.

“There’s a cluster of black auras there,” you tell him quietly, gesturing further into the woods, to the east. “I can see them, but they’re silent.”

He hums as he nods, stroking his chin thoughtfully before he looks at you again. His eyes flick to the little girl, whose grip on your leg is starting to get painful, and it’s in that moment you realize two things.

First, that you get to tell Gojo, “I told you so.”

Second, in relation to the first, the tiny girl death-gripping your leg has an aura that is shrieking and melting into an opaque black.

Fuck.

Without a second thought, you send a surge of your cursed energy into your aura, ballooning it up rapidly. You swing the handbell down sharply, a clear, piercing note with the demand to be let go striking the tiny cursed human, tossing her away from you a good 30 yards.

A dull ringing pulses in your ears as you struggle to keep your balance. You shouldn’t have used that move so soon out of semi-retirement.

Arms scoop you up before you hit the ground. Muffled voices bicker as you barely hold onto your consciousness, but they fade away quickly as you’re overtaken with another bout of nausea that pulls you back towards consciousness. You try to move, but the arms hold you tighter against what you learn is Gojo’s chest.

“Easy, easy.” His breath warms your face as he calms you. “Shocked you’re not passed out yet.”

You don’t have the energy to remind him that he’s the pot and you’re the kettle when it comes to stubbornness. Based on the bits and pieces of the room you can see through still-blurred vision, he had warped you both back to your apartment.

He lays you down on your bed, checks your pulse, then slips out of the room long enough to get you a glass of water and a banana.

“I told you I wasn’t a sorcerer for a reason,” you mumble as you push yourself up slowly. The dizziness is gone, but exhaustion presses against your bones at this point. Gojo sits on the edge of the bed as he watches you sip at the water and peel the banana.

“Your stamina is shit, yeah. But you know what you’re doing.” You break apart the banana bite by bite. Like hell you’re going to eat an obviously phallic fruit in front of a man with the maturity level of a teenage boy. “I’d say with a bit of training, you could hold your own without passing out again.”

You shoot him a look that hopefully conveys how little interest you have in making that a reality. He only gives you a small smile before he stands.

“Better go check on the kids, make sure they didn’t completely fuck that simple exorcism.” He pauses at the bedroom door, lifting his blindfold just enough to look at you with one eye. “Thanks for your help, maestro. Think about what you want for compensation. I’ll be in touch.”

He winks at you with that one azure eye before he just blinks out of sight. Your thoughts start replaying your time in his arms, a coveted location, you’re sure. He smelled like cedarwood and eucalyptus, but on the designer fragrance side of the spectrum, which surprises you considering how boring his attire generally is.

Sighing, you fish your phone out of the inner pocket of your jacket and swipe it open. No new messages, but a couple of missed calls from Nanami. You’re too tired to both giving him a lecture, so you just tell him he’s your personal chauffeur tomorrow until you can pick you bike up from the school.

And if you even THINK about sending Gojo in your place, consider yourself a eunuch the next time I see you, got it?

You don’t bother to see if he responds. Instead, you shed your clothes and crawl back under the covers, setting a few different alarms, just in case. Yawning, you curl onto your side and let your eyes drift closed, willing your brain to just shut the fuck up with the semi-intrusive thoughts. Falling asleep now would get you a solid 7.5 hours, more than enough for another round of compositional reviews.

I wonder what he thought of my singing…

[naralanis]

Fic Writer Review!

Thanks @mssirey for the tag! I totally didn't have a crisis with the very last question, not at all bwhahaha

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

41, soon to be 42. ASJKLDBLAHSDSD how. And also why. But mostly, how.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

565,934 EXCUSE ME WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. I was going to check my unpublished works but ya know what. Maybe I've written enough akdjsa

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Technically speaking, I've written and published fics for five fandoms. However, I only have one story for OUAT (and I have @shadowdianne to thank for that... or do I?) and one for Captain Marvel. Mirandy was my first love, Cissamione the second, and Supercorp has burrowed in my brain and just won't let go.

I've also technically written for Xena, Legend of Korra, and Criminal Minds, but since I never published those, we're going to pretend they don't exist!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Only two are WIPs! YEAH! They're the top two, but WHO CARES, here they are:

1) Perhaps, aka my baby, my child, my darling, the apple of my eye. If I ever had to choose to finish only ONE of my WIPs, this would be the one. This story has grown with me, and I think you can tell when you read. Or maybe not!

2) For the Better. If the former is my baby, this one is like... my moody teenager. I love it dearly, but... it takes a lot out of me. An ode to one of the first fandoms I actively wrote for, it sits unfinished, but nearly, oh so nearly done. I will finish it, damn ittt.

3) The Date. Honestly, this one really surprised me -- it's one of my oldest one-shots, and something I definitely dashed off between lectures back in Scotland, maybe alternating with FtB chapters. It's one of my first attempts at humour, I think.

4) Bits and Pieces. AYY, I wasn't sure Supercorp would make the cut, WOOOT! This one was the second Supercorp fic I ever wrote, and I did it because Lena Is Baby and the idea just wouldn't leave my brain.

And lastly, the fabulous number 5... Perfect. AKA Nara's First (published) Explicit Fic, featuring Praise Kink and an Enchanted Dildo (for... reasons). I'm not gonna lie, I am so HAPPY this one made it, because it has a special place in my heart. It's where Soft Butch Hermione comes to life, and if you don't love Soft Butch Hermione, I'm sorry, we can't be friends. I love her.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Eeermmm... some? I do want to respond, but I'm terrible with keeping up with comments, I really am. For whatever reason, even when I do my best, I don't really love responding directly on AO3. I also turned off all email notifications for AO3 because turns out my brain WILL be distracted by even a single one.

I'm much more responsive on Tumblr, I promise!

6. A fic you've written with the angstiest ending:

Any of my Narlily works, I guess? Like... All Flowers Wither or Carry On.

Unshackled would be another one, though it's Cissamione... but I caved and made a happy(ish) second part for that one.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Nope! Crossovers just don't do it for me, generally speaking (reading or writing).

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

EvEr rEcEIvEd hAtE-- yes. Oh, yes. I've been told my writing is terrible, I've been told my stories were a 'waste of time,' or 'overhyped,' I've had people tell me there was only One Way to write a certain pairing and my way was definitely Not The Way.

The list goes on.

It used to really, really bother me--still does, but in a much smaller way. Delete/Block buttons are my friends.

9. Do you write smut?

I write an absurd amount of smut. I just don't publish any of it because. Fear.

My pretty, pretty pens have created some filthy, filthy things.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A couple of times -- only once or twice like, straight up attributed to someone else who acted like they were the one writing it. The other times were reposts or translations (without my permission, so still. stolen).

11. Ever had a fic translated?

I've authorized a couple of translations of a few of my DWP works. I'm usually cool with people translating my stuff IF THEY ASK ME FIRST and GIVE ME PROPER CREDIT.

9/10 it's some Brazilian who translates it to Portuguese without my permission and then gets upset when I, another Brazilian, do not endorse it and politely ask them to take the thing down. Thankfully it's been a while. ASK ME, DAMN IT.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nothing published bwhaha!

13. All-time favourite ship?

Right now SuperCorp is definitely barking a little louder, so to speak, but I don't really have one favourite overall. It depends on the fandom, sometimes! Cissamione is very dear to my heart, because it's just so fucking out there and literally every one in this ship has some of the most fascinating headcanons for this pairing and it's just. So wonderful.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don't think you ever will?

Eeeeuuughhh.... Right now? Probably The Appraisal. I forget what I wanted to do with it, I'm not sure if I'm still feeling the premise... IDK.

I think the same could be said of For the Better, but I PROMISED to finish it, and GOD DAMN IT, I am so close I can't throw in the towel just yet.

15. Writing strengths?

You want ME to say good things about MYSELF? I'm still learning how to do that asldkjbasdn it's a work in progress. But I think I'd say... maybe world-building, at least on my longer works?

I would also like to think I do pretty OK in... IDK, some of the punchy stuff? The 'oh wait a minute' moment? IDK if that makes sense!

16. Writing weaknesses?

Organizing. Plot (HAHA IKR). Consistency. Editing (which is rich from someone who literally edits shit for a living... but go figure). Pacing. Weirdly long sentences? Commas for DAYS.

I could go on.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I am a-OK attempting it in French/Spanish/Portuguese. It may not sound natural, but it will be correct. If I'm trying another language, I'll definitely get help! But I've got no problem with it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Harry Potter, Dramione specifically, and you'll never find a shred of it. I was like 12, and almost a decade later I figured out Hermione was much better off with Draco's mother.

19. What's your fav fic you've written so far?

DON'T MAKE ME CHOOOSE asdkljasdl I CAAANNN'TTTT

I mean, obviously Perhaps is one of them -- it is my baby, that has been established. I think Little Bumps in the Road is also up there, because it was just a random writing exercise that got out of hand, and honestly? I'm here for it. Andddd.... I GUESS I'll put A Valentine's Evening up there as well, because it was the first time I didn't second guess every word I wrote when posting smut. I just... felt it, went for it, wrote it, and it felt really, really good to release some of that into the world lol

WHEW, this was a long one! I'll be tagging @intheinkpot, @shadowdianne, @delirious-comfort, and @16-pennies because I am a curious bastard. But, as always, feel free to treat this as an open tag. Go nuts!