#So yeah I'm interested in this concept a lot now lol thanks

[sysig]

Hey! For requestober, would you please draw something cute with Jake and Scriabin (once Scri gets his own body)? Maybe in a Wish Fulfilment kind of AU where Jake sticks around for Edgar/Scri? I just love the idea of a setting where they get to really meet and have it go well, esp after reading Scri's reaction to Jake in Convalescence. <3 If Edgar was involved in the piece too, that would be lovely, but I'd really appreciate it with just the two, as well. Thanks so much!

Day 1 - Satisfaction

[wttcsms]

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction. 

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.” 

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary. 

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably. 

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride. 

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in. 

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word. 

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling. 

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.) 

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him. 

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks. 

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—” 

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.” 

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment. 

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.” 

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there? 

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word. 

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full. 

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders. 

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone. 

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” 

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.” 

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves. 

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves. 

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him. 

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity. 

You frown when he approaches you. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend. 

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling. 

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself. 

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even. 

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation. 

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride. 

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.) 

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this. 

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance. 

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019   BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin. 

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in. 

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists. 

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka. 

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty. 

“He told me he loves me.” 

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.” 

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her. 

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first. 

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night. 

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home. 

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do. 

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud. 

And rhythmic. 

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too. 

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then. 

There’s someone knocking at your door. 

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm? 

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear. 

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop. 

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief? 

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun. 

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window. 

This stranger must be a soldier. 

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall. 

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his. 

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long. 

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water. 

“Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours. 

It’s been a rough day. 

A rough week. 

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know? 

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize. 

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily. 

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan. 

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople. 

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom. 

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own. 

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying. 

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target. 

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body. 

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him. 

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard. 

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this. 

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next. 

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin. 

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that. 

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help. 

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then. 

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope. 

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent. 

Naoya Zenin is out for blood. 

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you. 

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches. 

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal. 

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one? 

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in. 

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too. 

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three. 

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom. 

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her. 

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again. 

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.” 

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals? 

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer. 

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back. 

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all. 

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words. 

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.” 

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl. 

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run. 

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment? 

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself. 

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up. 

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister. 

“...helped out Sakura.” 

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl. 

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura. 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment. 

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement. 

“She a ring girl?” 

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?” 

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?” 

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him. 

“You finally did it.” 

“Did what?” 

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

[brotherwtf]

Scientist or Mathematician Gale being guarded by spy Bucky.

oh now this one is very interesting,, hmm let's see let's see

Gale is a well respected scientist, got his PhD at Harvard in astrophysics and continues to research and teach

However, some stuff he's been presenting recently has put a target on his back and he's constantly in danger whenever he goes

He's put under the protection of an agent, Bucky, who's supposed to stay with him at all times, almost like a bodyguard but mostly to keep him safe and transport him to safe houses

Gale doesn't think he needs the protection, he's a scientist, no one actually wants him dead, but Bucky is adamant on staying with him the whole time

What if he's speaking at some point and someone comes into the stage and threatens to kill him, has a gun out and everything, and only then does Gale realize he's in trouble

Insert Bucky being all "I told you so", and Gale rolls his eyes and apologizes for doubting him

They spend a lot of time together moving across the country, Gale still tries to do some research while Bucky just sits back and makes fun of him (affectionate)

Gale is trying to get Bucky to tell him his real name, but Bucky says something stupid like "That's only reserved for my family and my lover" and now Gale is dead set on finding out his name

Of course they start to care for each other deeply while Bucky is taking care of Gale; Gale will hound Bucky about not getting enough sleep and Bucky will push him off, swears it's fine and he can sleep later

Imagining them on a train together where there's ONLY ONE BED (and the crowd goes wild) and Bucky says he can sleep in the chair, but Gale insists on having him sleep in the bed and hilarity ensues

Cue them waking up in each other's arms and Gale just so absolutely flustered while Bucky has a smirk on his face and Gale asks Bucky to never speak of it again

What if they get intercepted before they get to a safehouse and Gale is in real danger, getting shot at and chased through the train station while Bucky tries to protect him

Oh no!! Bucky gets hurt!! and Gale has to get them out of this situation!! He's able to heroically drag Bucky to a hotel room away from the danger and just shakes the entire time bcs Bucky is really hurt

Here's how the conversation goes:

"Come on Bucky, don't die on me, come on"

"I ain't gonna die Gale, just, fuck, come on I'm losing a lot of blood,"

"I know, god I know, I just.... I can't lose you, Bucky" "My name's John,"

"John?"

"Yeah kinda silly, ain't it? Not as big and tough sounding as Bucky,"

"John... what does that make me then? Your family or your lover?"

"Take a wild guess"

and then they kiss for like four hours even though John is still technically hurt lol

I really liked this prompt!! it made me think of some stuff I never would have, thank you for the ask!! lmk if y'all have anymore hcs for this concept

[marley-manson]

Could you expand on your dislike for the Raphael!Crowley headcanon? I'm fairly certain I know why but your meta posts are always so thoughtful and articulate and I would love to hear your thoughts on the topic

Thank you, I really appreciate it! And fwiw I always enjoy reading your thoughts as well!

And yeah I'm happy to! I mean first I should say that I don't actually like, hate-hate it in fanfic, it's not like an instant back-button for me if it comes up, and I feel like I've seen one or two fics after season 1 where I thought it was fine and it didn't take me out of the story.

But yeah in general I just don't like Crowley being special lol. I like the book vibe where Crowley and Aziraphale are just two... not quite nobodies, given their roles in Eden and the spy allegory of the present day, but certainly not particularly powerful or impressive demon/angels. Crowley and Aziraphale's "superpowers," such as they are, are just their adaptability thanks to living on Earth so long. That's what defines them compared to the rest of Hell and Heaven and sets them apart as uniquely capable of giving a fuck and doing something about the apocalypse. Eg Hastur and Ligur are explicitly more powerful than Crowley, but Crowley escapes them by the skin of his teeth because he's able to break convention by weaponizing holy water, and he's familiar with technology, and more capable of thinking on his feet in general.

I like that all their uniqueness comes from living on Earth with humanity. It resonates with the thematic core of the story, it's fun, and it's interesting. Crowley now being able to perform super impressive miracles and casually resurrect people (something presumably not every angel can do since Aziraphale can't resurrect Edinburgh girl) and read heaven's secret files and potentially stop time in season 1 because he's a former archangel diminishes that vibe to me.

Another con of Raphael!Crowley as a headcanon is that a lot of the time, ime, it feels similar to lost scion of royalty headcanons in other fandoms in an unpleasant way - the way that kind of leans into the idea of someone being inherently superior and worth more by birth (or creation I guess in an angel's case lol). I don't think this is necessarily inherent to the headcanon, or an aspect I think Gaiman will definitely emphasize, but there is that worry lol, especially considering how gary stu-ish Crowley felt to me this season.

Like, why is him being a former archangel meaningful or significant at all? Why does the headcanon exist? What makes Raphael!Crowley different enough from Random Angel #2398!Crowley that it's even brought up as a character detail or plot point that excites people? And I'm not implying that there are no valid reasons (eg exploring why a high ranking angel specifically would fall, or to add some drama for Aziraphale if he finds out and it matters to him, or to add drama between Crowley and the other archangels, etc), but quite often the vibe I get from this headcanon is that Crowley's just inherently more interesting and cool if he used to be a high ranking angel instead of some rando, which is a vibe that puts me off.

Ultimately I just tend to prefer mundane origins to surprise significant origins, and stories about average people (at least in their own context, as angels or w/e) moulded by life who make interesting plot-driving choices rather than inherently unique and special people. And Crowley being Raphael doesn't necessarily make him special, but it does lean in that direction, especially if it's treated as a surprise significant reveal and yk, a source of superpowers.

And to be fair I actually have been thinking about directions this concept could go in season 3 that wouldn't annoy me, and one is to emphasize that archangels aren't inherently special at all and it's an arbitrary designation, and Crowley doesn't give a shit and anyone who does (like other archangels or w/e) is going to be painted as naive and silly and too into hierarchies.

And/or, yk, emphasize that "Anthony Crowley" is emphatically NOT Raphael, regardless of who God created him as. Choose your own destiny. All that jazz. Especially if the Metatron is offering him angelhood again I could see former identity and status being brought into play and held up as extra significant by the antagonists and treated as something to be shut down and dismissed by the narrative, which I would enjoy.

So yeah, at the end of the day I just prefer Crowley as just some guy who happened to get the Earth Agent assignment, rather than the mysterious only fallen archangel.

[genopaint]

Week 19 of the Daily Dragon Challenge! Been having a busy May! Which isn't always a bad thing I suppose. But I've been slowing down on my Daily Dragon Duties. Gotta pick it up!!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #126 - Hothead

Happy 40th anniversary TMNT!! I've been wanting do draw Hothead, or just some TMNT dragon, for a bit now. Soooo, why not take advantage of the anniversary, right?

This is my own design inspired by a few different sources, mainly the action figure and tournament fighters' boxart and his in game sprite. There's a LOT more TMNT dragons than I think you realize, so dont be surprised if I do another one later

Daily Dragon #127 - Marci Midas

This dragon's main interests are: Gold, Golden things, looking richer than everyone else, and ignoring you. Maybe if you ask reeeeaaally nicely and give her presents she'll look in your general direction,

Saw all the really good gold week posts and the idea of like, a dragon that hordes gold wearing a golden bikini came to my mind so I thought I'd try making her. I'm not 100% satisfied with how it came out but I think the concept is hot enough, and she's already finish so- yeah

Anyway happy (late) gold week I suppose, I may try to do other clothing challenge dragons in the future but we'll see how I feel cause I have a hard time keeping up with all of them and I keep wanting to draw the Axel girls in them instead

Daily Dragon #128 - Mirage Wyrm

Those who are lost in large deserts and tundras, when stricken with exhaustion and dehydration, often see Mirage Wyrms approach them. Although they are strange 2D specters, they are physical manifestations and WILL consume you if you're weak

Daily Dragon #129 - Dojo Kanojo Cho

Missed yesterday's dragon and I feel like the perfect dragon for a late day is our boy Dojo! I feel like I don't talk about it nearly enough but I LOVE Xiaolin Showdown so much it's unreal. Don't be surprised if I do another dragon from it

tear down the false idol

Daily Dragon #130 - Naten Shellie Shieldheart

This character was a ton of fun to work on and I'm glad people trust me enough with non-animal characters to design their humanoid ocs lol Thanks for letting me include them in the challenge!

Daily Dragon #131 - Raptor Wyvern

These predators can tear through the air at incredibly high speeds, using their massive claws, they can strike at prey quick and swoops them up before the poor animal even realized what happened

Daily Dragon #132 - Huggogon

Large, kind, and fluffy dragons who just love love! They're very affectionate, love hugging, and are kind to everyone they encounter. Similar to Capybaras, they seemingly have no natural enemies

Quick redraw of a dragon I did at FWA LAST year. Figured it was the perfect chance to reboot them for this challenge! I also love the other two so dont be surprised if they get a redo eventually too

[cruyuu]

sukuita is such a god tier ship thanks for putting into your words how well they work together!!

regarding the uncle thing, i find that it’s hard to consider them related lol. even with the canon explanation, it doesn’t feel like real blood relation to me?? idk. i’m a big fan of the pairing, reincarnated incest included or not.

Hi anon!

You're very welcome! I think they deserved something proper instead of just "oh their dynamic is interesting". I could go on and on about them for days because they're just so fascinating to me. I'm in too deep 😔

As for the whole uncle thing- well, yes. They are related through the "reincarnation" thing (kinda) but are they directly? They aren't. Blood doesn't tie them together. If Gege wanted a bigger shocker, he could've made Yuuji the reincarnation of Sukuna's twin brother, but instead we got Yuuji being the son of a man with Sukuna's twin brother's soul. Kinda weird. But then this man also revealed that Yuuji's mom was dead and that Kenjaku was inhabiting her body, grew pregnant with him and now because Yuuji was born because of Kenjaku, he got the entire set of death paintings as his half-brothers. It's just... a lot lol.

This is why I insist (and advocate) people don't apply real life morals or rules onto jjk because it is downright ridiculous to do so. Anyone trying to moral police someone in this fandom is automatically a clown to me. The world in that story functions completely differently to our own.

Still, most people took the relation quite literally even if it isn't. Why? Well let me put on my thinking cap and explain.

Reincarnation itself is very iffy.

In most beliefs involving reincarnation, the soul of a human being is immortal and does not disperse after the physical body has perished. Upon death, the soul merely becomes transmigrated into a newborn baby or an animal to continue its immortality.

Meaning that a soul inhabiting the body of one person who someone might've knew before as a sibling, cousin, partner, parent or friend, whatever, in a previous life can now be their lover, sibling, friend, or a mere stranger in the next. Humans are unaware of that and might never know.

The concept doesn't exactly function on our laws so yeah 🤷‍♀️

I guess the most accurate answer (with the theory of reincarnation applied) would be: they don't know each other precisely because Sukuna's twin brother's soul recognizes Sukuna's, but Yuuji's a whole different one. His soul could've been inhabiting a bird in the previous life (bc yes, animals also count), could've been his own mom, could've been a random girl, whoever. A soul doesn't pick or choose the vessel, it just hops into it.

[angelxd-3303]

Soo..i saw your TFP oc, Mason so i decided to ask questions about him

How did he found out about autobots?

What's his favourite thing?

Who's his favourite autobots?

Does the autobots like him?

How does mason view the autobots

Does mason have a favourite person?

I'm so hyper about your oc so much :D

You're asking me about my OCS???? Oh my Primus, I've been waiting for this!

Mason is a character I've had floating in my mind void for awhile; he's originally from northern Wisconsin, but moved to Jasper to distance himself from their ex. (No, Miko, he's not going to talk about it.)

He has vitiligo, but it doesn't really bother them. He used to be really self conscious as a kid, even stealing his mom's makeup to try and cover it up. As they got older though, Mason came to accept and love his skin, because it's ultimately a part of him, and what makes them unique. (Ratchet found it fascinating, and that ended with them having an in depth conversation about dermatology)

Mason uses He/They, although he doesn't have a preference. His parents got him into geology and bushcraft, which is how he met the bots. (See above; I may write a drabble, idk)

As for favorite bots, Mason will never tell you openly. Honestly though, Ratchet and Optimus hold a special place in their heart. He has a strong bond with his parents, but those two have kind of become stand-in Dads for Mason.

His favorite thing? Probably his jean jacket. It was a gift from their grandpa, given after they came out. It was a reminder that he was loved and accepted by their family, no matter what the world said.

As for the Autobots, they like him plenty. Mason introduced a lot of new concepts to them, like gender identity and orientation, so there's no shortage of interesting conversations. As a diagnosed autistic, there are many times where they have to explain to the bots how it affects him as opposed to a neurotypical. (And if Optimus learned a few things about himself over the course of these conversations, well...)

Mason and Jack get along the best; they bond over their shared love for bushcraft and survivalism. He's almost positive that Miko is giving him gray hairs; but he admires her bravery. Even if it is a bit misplaced. As for Raf, yeah Mason's basically adopted him. Raf is his child now. ("How have none of your parents noticed you guys gone all the time?!")

They've honestly become the Dad of the group as the oldest guy besides Agent Fowler, and this extends to the bots. Mason can often be found scolding someone for doing something stupid or talking down some argument in the base. Their piercing glare is the reason Agent Fowler doesn't dare shout at Optimus anymore. Bro barely got one "PRIME!" out before Mason was nearly at his throat. Optimus may be a big bot, but Mason looked at him for half a second and immediately identified him as baby™. He and Fowler are ok now, mostly. Mostly.

That's basically all I've put together; thanks again for asking about my characters! I was kinda on the fence about sharing my ocs, mainly since I haven't made a lot of them since I was younger. I may explore that more often now.

Hope this was satisfactory, lol. I'm not the best at explaining certain things. I'm just a nerd who likes big robot Bois.

[yonpote]

another thing is like... under capitalism, business success and wealth begin to alienate you from others who don't have that. and that alienation can feed into greed, like why not keep investing and making business deals and buying expensive stuff? and no one around is really going to call you out because they are either capitalist hacks or maybe people who once struggled who now rely on you.

so like, I don't inherently expect much from creators like dnp who come into money. even though they probably have more financial freedom than many other creators because of all the tours, books, games, etc (because they are good at business!)

so like, as their fans who ultimately are their consumers, I think it's good to call them out, especially because they have shown before that they have good intentions.

am I expecting much from them? no. wealth can be corrupting and speaking out comes with risk to business/career interests. but they have a special relationship with their audience, as we're mostly all fellow queer and neurodivergent people with similar interests. so we can provide feedback and be the ones to try to ground them and be like "hey that wasn't cool please do better." stopping engagement with them and their content entirely doesn't really do anything to help, unless they did something they needed to absolutely be deplatformed for. stopping engagement is a valid personal choice, but when I see stuff that begins to resemble like 'they aren't being activists right now time for everyone to unstan' I'm like... if that makes you feel better, fine, but I would rather parasocially / affectionately be like "hey I expect more from you!" in a way that is constructive. which is something I would want to do with my friends, but the difference is, if my friends didn't change or try to then I probably would distance myself from them. Whereas Dan and Phil are entertainers we don't now irl, we have a different relationship with them. but compared to many other creators, they really do tend to be more sensitive to their audience (which has helped their success).

but so this time the (mostly leftist) phannies calling them out actually got them to do a fundraiser so that's cool! even if it's because of the backlash like, that's what the point of backlash is! we should want people to change behavior. not to just abstractly punish them, for something they could be unlikely to do without pressure. though hopefully it will lead to less instances of having to pressure them.

idk this brings up interesting stuff about parasocial relationships, the transactions between creators and their audience, and capitalism. so of course I had to rant about it for a sec lol.

thats completely true! thank u for the rant lol but yeah i dont want to come across as being like, NEVER EXPECT ANYTHING FROM YOUR FAV CREATORS it was more like, with dnp specifically we know where their heart is i guess so it can be unnecessary to call for whatever. BUT you're absolutely right in that they probably wouldn't have done a charity stream were it not for pressure from fans. and maybe this is ME being parasocial but i'd like to think that this isn't for damage control or performativism (i mean it is a LITTLE cuz any publicity is a little bit abt looking good) but rather like, putting their money where their mouth is basically! and showing to their core audience like hey we care about this thing too and we fully hear you.

i was thinking about this General concept wrt dnp because i think there have been other moments where dnp were called out about something or criticized for like their more offensive humor and they stopped doing that and educated themselves which is better than most creators who put up fakeass apology videos. ive seen a lot of ppl say they want dan to talk about and apologize for his racist and sexist humor (and honestly only asking dan but not bringing up that phil also had his share of racist jokes) but it's like. at this point what further could he say? he's not a 21 year old shit head anymore (and yeah good for you for being a socially aware 21 y/o in 2024 but that offensive humor literally was just the culture of that time period) and they both have SHOWN that they have grown and even talked about it in like the pinof react video where they talked about "yeah we bullied kristen stewart a lot cuz it was just popular to make fun of her and justin bieber and that really sucks that we did that" like they have changed and shown change! they do not need to make a grand apology statement cuz like if you wanna talk performativism then lets talk about the fakeness of basically every apology video on the internet????

sorry thats unrelated to what u were talking abt but it just made me start thinking BUT YEAH THANK YOU FOR YOUR HOT TAKES!!!!

[irritablepoe]

what do other people get wrong about poe?

YES MORE POE QUESTIONS!! :D thank you anon, you're really given me all the excuses to ramble lmao

tbh there are not many people on here that get him wrong, at least i haven't seen much? though ofc there are other websites *looks at tiktok with squinted eyes* that reduce him to being a sugar daddy boytoy, which... i mean it's funny. but it's also not everything that he is obviously, especially bc i don't think poe really has a concept of money tbh? like i think he has ridiculously expensive essential things (i say essential but i mean i don't think a mansion is particularly essential lmao) and he also buys things he considers important to show off his abilities, like for example the manuscript, but looking at the anthology (which isn't canon but lets pretend it is for a sec) he only has limited clothing and other than many other rich people would he doesn't just hire someone to get them for him yk? (he also lets mori pay i think right? lmao) in conclusion - he spends his money, yes, but he's not throwing it out the window (debatable tho, i'd call 20 mil a waste but he can do it ig?), nor does he spend it much on his own needs.

many people also forget that yes, he is whiny, but he is also extremely dangerous! his ability could trap nearly everyone and make them defenseless! even chuuya spends a while in poe's book and he's highly capable and intelligent! ranpo was near giving up! this is extremely important to his character and a severe bruise on his confidence! i think many forget that

he is a skilled snipper, can replace a car engine (bro watched one yt tutorial and rolled with it i'm so sure about this) and ofc he is a detective and a writer that impressed ranpo (and can also write a mystery in around 15-30 minutes) and is ALSO the architect for the guild. so. yeah. he's multi-talented as shit, i think people should appreciate that more

also (this list is never gonna end lol) i think people mistake his anxiety in social settings for being shy and i just.. don't think he is shy per se? he's quite boastful when it comes to his writing and his ability that comes with it and on the perfect crime trio case he had no problem at all speaking in public and even with the police. i mean an anxious person that would be worried about how he was perceived he would be worried that he'd be found out to be a criminal which he IS, but he just is so sure of himself that he's left no traces that he's just like "*shrug* yeah that happened, anyway, how are you officer? :D" not quite like that ofc but yk i just think he's more anxious in the way that he hates groups of people bc they overwhelm him quickly in regards to noise and conversation (especially small talk i'd guess) and that he just thinks many people he doesn't take interest in are annoying? that might be a lil controversial opinion tbh but i'll gladly remind you of this panel:

(i couldn't find the official translation help)

tho i also have to say that he calls himself shy here so could be both idk:

hm, yeah i think that's it for now. in relations to ranpo i don't like how people sugarcoat them a lot tbh, i know i've said it before but this really bugs me, like yes they're getting along quite well but i wouldn't call their relationship healthy at all? at least not yet, though i can see that it could work very well eventually. i think poe is doing all these things gladly for ranpo but ranpo has to open up way more and tell poe that he appreciates him, like please, this man is so down bad for you. also pls communicate so that poe doesn't lose himself in his obsession, this can't be healthy come onnn, bro has isolated himself for yearssss

yep, i think that's it, ty anon!!!! <33

[herotome]

Hi there! I’ve been following for a fair while (I was interested in the premise) and have been meaning to play the game for a while as well, but only started the last day of 2023! One heck of a way to start a year though!

I was wondering, how would the ROs feel about/interact with an MC who is touch averse? If MC can’t stand for people to touch them without getting a little sick feeling? How would that affect their relationship? Would that be a thing that would determine if they would or would not enter a romantic relationship with MC?

And maybe as a lil tiny bonus if you’re feeling up to it, how would the ROs feel if MC one day tried linking pinkies with them? If MC told them that their specific touch isn’t that bad and they wanna try slowly building up physical affection?

Sorry, this is kind of a long ask >.< I myself am iffy on touch at best and I know it’s commonly seen as a “necessity” in relationships of all kinds. Herotome is a VN that kinda breaks down modern relationships and I was curious so I wanted to ask, but alao totally understand if you don’t want or are unsure of how to answer this. Have a lovely whatever time it is in your time zone and I can’t wait to see how Herotome progresses!

Dude(gn) you're valid as hell thank you sending this over <3

I do wanna give a quick shoutout to @crescencestudio who - I know through my direct experience of editing for Alaris - is putting a huge array of touch-averse dialogue options in their VN. Do give them a follow if that interests you...!

I also want to express how flattered I am that Herotome kinda breaks down modern relationships - that's definitely been an unstated goal of mine.

Now let's see about your ask...

Warden: Fuck yeah he's down-- gosh what's gotten into me I'm cursing so much today but I'll make an effort not to censor myself <_< But yeah... honestly a touch averse MC would be right up his alley - assuming he is reassured that he has not done anything wrong/offensive with any accidental touches. To some extent, he enjoys the concept of self-restraint(...) and begins both his professional and romantic relationships rather carefully - so not having to worry about whether he's not touching someone too much or too little - and instead focusing on not touching them at all - should be quite refreshing for him tbh? He may want to touch sometimes, particularly after spending a LOT of time together... but being respectful and ensuring his beloved is comfortable is way more important to him.

Griffin: ..... well, Griffin would do her best LOL. They would have to set expectations and really communicate upfront (which you would always be doing with Griffin regardless of touch aversion, lets be real) - what is not on the table, what could be on the table in the future, what MC wants out of a relationship - and if MC is prepared to discuss these topics and - most importantly, if MC is 100% ready for a relationship - in all likelihood a touch averse MC will be able to make things work with Griffin. Just gotta be clear and communicate.

Mia: ngl she can get pretty needy, it might be rough with her...! She'll want to hug when she cries and she can get pretty insecure about herself, so I wouldddn't super recommend a touch averse MC getting into a romantic relationship with Mia... Communication can be rocky with her even when both sides try their best. But gosh she'd treat touch averse MC sooo well in the time they spend together, if MC would allow Mia to cook and pamper!!!

Dart: Eh.... Why not? He's willing to give it a shot, and if it doesn't work out then it doesn't work out. ....... I'm sorry this is all he's giving me ;;;;;

Jade: lmao she's touch averse on and off herself so she'd understand MC best out of everybody with very minimal communication no questions necessary. They'll be perfectly happy reading on opposite sides of the couch or something...

As for linking pinkies and slowly building up physical affection-

lol idek what to say bc that's so stinking adorable and swoonworthy

Warden, Griffin, Dart, and Jade would make sure MC is not pushing themself over their comfort zone just for their sake - they went into a relationship knowing not to expect touch (I assume?!)

Mia would be too busy having the happiest day of her life straight up vibrating and also having a heart attac like

[tangledbea]

You've been running this blog for eight years, and that's a long time. Long enough for the series to come and go, and have been gone for years. Long enough for me to grow from a tween to a technical adult (who can drink almost anywhere that's not the states. I don't know why I'm so hung up on this fact since I'm not american and don't drink.) Anyways that's a long time. Even though I've been lurking in this fandom and by extension your blog since Dec 2017, I never saw the very beginning of your blog. What was that time like? Did you always intend to answer people's seemingly random questions about Tangled? If not, how did we get to this point?

Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I recognize your URL from my likes! So thanks for talking to me!

The beginning was interesting. I expected this was going to be primarily an archival blog. As in I'd post (or reblog) facts about the (then) upcoming series as they were dropped by entertainment news outlets, and then screencaps, analyses, gifs, fanart, concept art, etc about the show, and people would look things up on my blog using my detailed tagging system. I learned how to make gifs so that I could gif the show. Honestly, for years I'd been following @artoftangled (not to be confused with @theartoftangled though they're doing stellar work), and I saw that they got asks about the movie a lot, and I was hoping this would be that kind of blog, too. That people would come to me for my years of experience and hyperfixation so that I could answer questions for them. I didn't expect it, but I hoped.

No, the most surprising turn of events for me was when crew members were popping up on Tumblr, posting info and sometimes art, answering the questions they were allowed to answer during pre-production, including the executive producer (who, at the time, we didn't know what he was like). So, on a day when I was actually a little depressed and knew I had literally nothing to lose, I started reaching out to people. I reached out to CS, Stephen Sadoval, and Kay Ritter (now Hayes) at first, and started talking to them here on Tumblr. Much to my surprise, they talked back, started answering my questions, etc in private chats. And the next thing I knew, they knew who I was at the studio. I was genuinely friends with people who worked on the show.

And honestly, I think they found me so trustworthy not just because of my enthusiasm and long-standing presence in the fandom, but because of my age. I'm a grown-ass adult, and was when the movie came out. There are a lot of people who worked on the show who are younger than me, and of course several who are my age or older, so I was the crews' peer. And my excitement for the show was honestly free publicity, and the kind that shows need these days: buzz on social media.

I'd say that with as hard as I worked, I deserved to be paid, but I kind of was. I got a tour of the studio, various crew members gifted me with crew-exclusive gifts (I wish the art book was among them, but alas), I was introduced to Roy Conli, I had crew who were excited to meet me, like I was some kind of celebrity, and had their respect and praise.

I also got thousands of followers who not only ask me for facts about the show like I hoped, but my opinions and interpretations of characters and events. I think the opinions and interpretations was far less expected by me, because that implies a level of popularity that I wasn't anticipating achieving. So, go me, I guess? lol

Anyway, yeah! That's how it all began! I knew I wanted to create a blog for the show, but I held off until we had a title. The day that the name Tangled Before Ever After dropped was the day I snagged this URL.

[protectingtulpas]

sorry if I'm being annoying because you probably already answered to a lot of questions like that but I'm very new to tulpamancy so do you have any tips for a beginner ? Thank you in advance!

Hmmmm there aint much context here but I'll give ya some tips I can think of for the most basic of beginners!

- learning to listen to ur own head is a skill in of itself, and it's an instinct you gotta develop. My host did it by learning to do stuff in our headspace before working on me, but the basic skills ya want are being able to listen to the instinctive responses of your brain, being able to focus on your internal state over a long time, and (eventually) multitasking doing something in ur head and in outerworld at the same time. We have adhd so having something to do in headspace helped a Lot. Some of my earliest memories are of choosing where to go in headspace.

- A lot of places will tell you about active forcing and how important it is to dedicate time to your tulpa, but our greatest advances personally always happened when I was being shown something in headspace or outerworld, getting some kinda stimulus or thing host thought would be interesting to me. So while yeah just paying attention to your tulpa is important too, especially in the very early stages, don't be afraid to do things with them! Give em experiences, things to base their identity off of. Your tulpa is speedrunning learning how to be a person, they can't do that in a bubble!

- When you're starting out tulpamancy, it's common to base your tulpa off of some kinda predetermined guidelines like personality traits, likes, or even a character or concept- that's how I was made, and how I'm a fictive. It also makes it easier to kickstart their creation and feel their presence faster. But be careful not to rely on that framework too much, cus it can make you paranoid later on. For a couple examples: maybe Host A starts working on Fictive Tulpa B, and she knows how he acts in-canon so well that she struggles to tell if she's actually getting responses from him or if she's just automatically judging what the character would say. In another example, Host Y has been forcing Tulpa Z with a specific set of traits, and when Z diverged and expressed an opinion contradictory to that framework, Host Y began panicking and thinking xe did something wrong. In both cases, Host A and Host Y are focusing too much on what they expect their tulpas to be, and not enough on how they are in the present and the development of their autonomy.

- You probably won't get much vocal response right away, especially if you're starting out as a singlet. You gotta watch for more subtle cues when you're just starting out, like feeling their presence, them moving their headspace form, or sharing positive or negative feelings. Sharing emotions and thoughts without actual words is pretty common in systems, and in the tulpamancy community it's called tulpish. Be on the lookout for nonverbal communication like that, because it's some of the first stuff we can do! Also, something lots of new tulpamancers report are head pressures, which are like really mild temple headaches that come with lots of forcing or the presence of your tulpa. (feels like the "expanding brain" meme irl if im being honest LOL) If you're struggling to tell if you're making any progress, try paying attention for that too.

That's about all I can think of for now! Good luck to ya anon ✨ check out my #tulpamancy advice tag for more!

[amethystviolist]

holy shit you wrote so much since march??? that is so fucking impressive!! and hey, creating things for older fandoms is the best, it's always good to see people still keeping them alive. now when you give updates i will finally know whats it about :'D would you wanna give a summary of the fic's premise?

Thank you for the appreciation and the ask again! Yeah I went kinda crazy with it lol; I slowed down to a more normal rate again in May, thankfully.

And sure! It's not a terribly original premise I'm afraid, and I don't have a real blurb yet, but basically, the fic revolves around Bilbo being a dragon with a limited ability to shapeshift. I've read multiple dragon!Bilbo works (and enjoyed them!), but I wanted to do a pretty different take on dragons compared to canon Tolkien or other fanfics I've read.

A teaser might be something like: Five hundred year old former dragon Bilbo Baggins has successfully kept his private vow of peaceful hobbitish living for fifty years when Gandalf turns up with an inviting offer of adventure and less-than-inviting dwarvish company. Bilbo is forced to weigh his need to protect his new friends against his fear of discovery every step of the way to the mountain, and by the time he realizes some secrets are truly too big to keep, Bilbo will have to decide exactly how much a dragon is willing to sacrifice for the dwarves of Erebor.

So for the conception of the fic, Tolkien's dragons are of course based on medieval epics where they're no more than cunning, cruel, and greedy creatures, and while that simplicity can be a good narrative tool, I got interested in the Middle Earth creation of dragons and then what else they might be besides vehicles for plot or embodiments of evil.

From extant theories on their creation (I'm skipping a lot of details on that or we'll be here all day!), I got really into my own take on draconic culture in Middle Earth, and then really into exploring Bilbo's trauma from his draconic past and how he's handling it as a hobbit (spoiler: he's just avoiding it). His canon character arc takes a naive bachelor to worldly adventurer, but my fic starts him from a place of power already. Dragon!Bilbo knows evil intimately and so he's terrified of himself. His arc instead involves accepting all parts of himself and allowing himself to really live again, and of course there's a lot of secrets and lying and oh god feelings that he has to deal with along the way.

Anyway, at its emotional core, the mega fic is about identity and self-acceptance/forgiveness. At its plot core, it's about keeping a terrible secret from thirteen people you want to befriend and how that causes a lot of interesting problems. I've written all the way through canon events (which are definitely more guidelines than rules, considering the impacts of Bilbo's true heritage) and am now in the murky waters of post-canon. I've got an outline and am working through it now. Post-canon deals mainly with the aftermath of a major sacrifice during BotFA (no spoilers!), and then what to do with the One Ring.

If you've read this far, thank! If you're still interested, please enjoy a little early excerpt below.

“‘Bilbo Baggins’, is it?” a deep voice read out.

The hobbit by that name, a middle-aged and bronze-haired fellow with a green waistcoat and a pipe in his mouth, looked up from the book on his lap and startled quite violently. 

“Gandalf,” Bilbo gasped, barely saving the book before it fell to the ground. The wizard in question was standing by his front gate and frowning at Bilbo’s nicely-labeled mailbox, his brow tight with confusion.

“My old friend, what in the names of the Valar are you still doing here?” Gandalf asked, sounding as genuinely surprised as Bilbo had ever heard him. 

“Ah.” Bilbo shifted a little on his nicely cushioned bench. “Well, you’ve been away for quite some time… I daresay I’ve changed quite a lot since we last met.”

“On that, we are agreed,” Gandalf replied, and stared at Bilbo as if trying to see through his very bones.

“Er, do come inside,” Bilbo invited him politely, and got to his feet. “I’ve got a kettle on, and some biscuits which aren’t too terribly burned.”

“A real achievement for one of your kind,” Gandalf chortled, until Bilbo shot him a glare. The wizard hurriedly quieted his amusement and let himself in the gate, following Bilbo up the grassy steps and through the green door that led to Bag End.

As soon as Bilbo closed the round door, he found himself unexpectedly nervous. He had nothing to fear from Gandalf, of course, but his situation was… inexplicably odd.

“So,” Bilbo began a little more hesitantly then he would have liked to admit, “What… brings you to the Shire?”

Gandalf fixed Bilbo with a disgruntled stare. “I was seeking you, of course! Imagine my surprise when I found your old caves deserted, your books and blankets all gone! I thought you’d been slain, and your treasures carried off, and yet somehow no one I asked knew anything about a-”

“Yes, yes, alright!” Bilbo interrupted with a suspicious glance out the nearest window. “I appreciate your concern, but not so loudly! I’m treated with enough suspicion as it is,” the hobbit grumbled, and motioned for Gandalf to follow him through the halls of Bag End until they reached the pantry, which was windowless and had two doors with sturdy locks. Bagginses of course protected their food well, as any respectable hobbit would, but Bilbo had also found that it was an excellent space for less-than-respectable happenings. 

Which he himself had no prior experience with, naturally.

“Olórin,” Bilbo breathed after he had lit a candle and closed both doors, sealing the wizard into the wide room. “My friend, it’s good to see you! I was going to send word, but I had no idea how a letter would reach you. You’re not called the Wandering Wizard for nothing, it seems,” Bilbo said with an amused smile.

“You could have left a note in the northern Blue Mountains!” Gandalf complained, shaking his head. “I had to fight my way through three dozen goblins before I found the levels where you used to reside.”

Bilbo gave him an unimpressed look, for only three dozen goblins were no match for one of the Istari at full strength, and they both knew it.

“It was an annoyance,” Gandalf amended at Bilbo’s expression. “And more importantly, it caused me no small amount of worry for your well-being.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to worry you. But you also could have come back sooner,” Bilbo said rather stiffly. He found himself compulsively organizing the jars of jam by size, until he realized he was acting a bit too much like Bungo and tried to stop fidgeting. “Belladonna and Bungo offered me their home and their name as my own, and Bag End is a much better place for reading than my old drafty caverns. It would have been ridiculous for me to refuse their kind offer.”

“And how are the dear Bagginses?” Gandalf asked, his eyes crinkling happily. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen them…” The wizard trailed off. His countenance sobered all too quickly as he saw that Bilbo’s expression had turned cold and stony, his hands stilling on the many jars of jam. “Oh. Oh, I see,” he murmured. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that, my friend. I know how much they meant to you.”

The pantry was unbearably silent for a time.

“We shared books,” Bilbo finally said very quietly, and Gandalf looked so shocked that Bilbo would have surely found it amusing under other circumstances.

“Indeed,” Gandalf finally managed, eyeing Bilbo with fresh concern. 

The room was once again silent, and Bilbo shook his head to clear it. “My loss is not the reason you’ve come, though,” he said after a long moment, glaring at an innocent wheel of cheese, for anger was better to keep moving on with than sorrow. But he forced himself to gentle his gaze somewhat to look back up at Gandalf. “Is this merely a social call, then?”

Gandalf’s lips quirked back up into a typically mysterious smile. “I’m afraid not. In fact, I came looking for you to share in an adventure.”

“Adventure?” Bilbo snorted loudly, and ignored the twin wisps of smoke that emerged from his nostrils. “Gandalf, please, I’m far too old for such nonsense. Surely you have many other - and far more pleasant! - options for traveling companions.”

“I’m not going on a walking holiday,” Gandalf corrected him with a huff, now looking rather put out. “I’m escorting a third party on a quest to reclaim their homeland, and your skill set would be most helpful on this dangerous journey.”

“My ‘skill set’?” Bilbo repeated incredulously. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean? My ‘skills’ primarily consist of reading voraciously and offending the delicate sensibilities of my neighbors.”

The wizard fixed him with a piercing, knowing look. “We both know you’re more than a simple hobbit, my old friend.”

Bilbo scowled as fiercely as this face allowed, and crossed his arms in annoyance. “Maybe I don’t want to be more than a simple hobbit anymore,” he said sharply. “Has it ever occurred to you that I am safe and comfortable here, in this form, in this life? I’m Bilbo Baggins now. I’ve changed, Gandalf, and I don’t want to be… who I was. I’m nothing like that anymore, and have vowed to never be again.”

Gandalf’s blue eyes twinkled a little, and he nodded once. “Very well. Bilbo... I understand your feelings on the subject.” He pointed one gnarled finger at Bilbo, and added firmly, “But this will be very good for you.” With that cryptic pronouncement, Gandalf turned and unlocked one of the pantry doors, knocking his head on the low doorframe and cursing to himself as he hastily exited.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo exclaimed, his annoyance now tainted by his damn curiosity. “What do you mean? I will not be going with you on any sort of mad adventure, and I mean it! I couldn’t leave my hoard for that long as you should well know!” He ran after Gandalf, who was finding his way to the front door much too quickly.

“I expect I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Gandalf said instead of offering any kind of explanation. “Do try not to incinerate anyone while I’m away.”

“Pfft, incinerate anyone,” Bilbo scoffed. “You’re the only one in danger of that, Gandalf the Grey! Stop running away and tell me what you meant by that! Ah, you confounding-”

Bilbo tripped on the upturned edge of a rug (undoubtedly Gandalf’s fault, as so many things were) and tumbled most ungracefully to the floor. By the time the hobbit had regained his feet, the wizard was long gone, his gray-clad form hurrying down the path away from Bag End.

“Blasted, meddlesome wizards,” Bilbo muttered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

[If you've read this far, please let me know! I'll be wanting a beta reader probably at some point, or someone to bounce ideas off of would be lovely as well.]

[ssaanaaloves]

Hi! I've got a few questions about the Medusa Rouge and Blind Shadow picture of you're willing to expand on it!

Was Rouge cursed or was she born like that? How did Shadow go blind? How did the two of them meet?

Really in love with the concept, especially since I've played around with a Medusa Rouge before. Hope you have an awesome day!

hi there lovely! thank you so much for the ask and interest in the artwork. i have to admit, i have a really bad habit of making artwork for aus/ideas that i have not thought over or expanded all that much, so like a lot of my other artworks this one is similar haha.

but, in a general sense, what i was aiming for was rouge as a highly respected and regarded courtesan (mostly in a sense of providing company rather than sleeping with them, she's a highly skilled/trained artist and conversationalist) of the kingdom (kingdom of mobius as placeholder), and she is super beautiful/along the lines of the most beautiful woman there so she has a lot of patrons and admirers. this of course lead to a lover of one of her patrons getting envious and cursing her, similar to how athena cursed medusa, but even still her beauty mostly remained, but anyone who makes eye contact with her are immediately petrified. ashamed, rouge fled the kingdom and went into hiding. i'd also probably say something about the kingdom naming her as an evil monster who should be slain, so she's kind of "hunted", but she manages to hide herself away pretty well and avoid being killed.

shadow in here is supposed to be a very well respected and fearsome warrior of the kingdom, his lifespan (being able to live for several centuries for reasons i haven't thought out lol) also giving him an advantage in being regarded by important figures who seek his services/protection. anyways, someway or another he accidentally pissed off a very childish prince who lost in a fair duel to him, who, filled with jealousy and embarrassment, managed to convince the kingdom that shadow had been dishonorable during the match and ordered for his sight to be taken as punishment. idk if it's that distinguishable from the drawing, but i was trying to give shadow the appearance of being the victim of an acid attack to the eyes (scorched off skin), so along the lines of that we could assume him to have been blinded by acid or an acid type of magic, and he was exiled as a "dishonorable warrior", and now wanders by himself, alone and jaded. his sword (i dubbed it midas, since it's a golden sword and one of a kind) is like a second limb to him, and despite being blinded he has adjusted to his condition extremely well, being able to be by himself and care for himself.

i haven't thought about how exactly they met, but the general idea is their circumstances are similar and they both went into isolation/hiding but crossed paths.

oh and just for fun - what happened to rouge happened about half a century after what happened to shadow, so he's been around for longer and gotten the hang of his new life.

all in all though, lots of things are up to interpretation! i'm not really sure if i'll expand this au or talk about it again or anything, but yeah haha. if you have any more questions, or if you even wanna write/expand this au the way you interpret, please go ahead! thank you for the ask once again <3

[ursachaotic]

Ok this might be a little weird and I want to tell this to you anonymously because I don't want to make you feel pressured into answering ^^' (let it be known I am a mutual of yours & I know we don't talk but I think you're really cool <:) Your genuine love for Gravity Falls and you excitement about The Book of Bill is kind of. Helping me rekindle old love for the franchise. I stopped interacting with it more or less involuntarily (bad experience with bad people) and felt bad that I can't get into it but honestly your interest did help me rediscover it, or at least start to do so. Like I've picked up my old Journal 3 a couple times this week, I thought about re-watching the show, I bookmarked the cheapest "to be released" listings for TBOB in the online shops in my country, I have the thisisnotawebsitedotcom bookmarked too. I've been picking up my hand-made-from-a-towel Bill plush and just looking at him. Thinking about trying to find his hat and make him a new bow because I took them off when it was just too awful to perceive.

I hope this isn't weird. I genuinely don't mean to be weird or trigger your anxiety or anything, I mean it. Your love for this show and everything around it is helping me a bit to rediscover my own, which is great, because as someone with interest in folklore, the paranormal and cryptids, GF was an amazing thing to discover. I myself made a grown up version of Dipper, who's a full-on cryptid hunter and wrote a lot of stories about him, later turning that concept into my own thing because it was too painful to keep but I loved all of the creatures I made and the lore and stuff. So I just took my ideas and moved it into my own thing, which is currently my most developed universe with my most beloved ocs.

This is lengthy. Sorry. Again, I genuinely don't want to creep you out, just, I'm glad I found you and your art and your comic and that you're so excited about your interests. Please know that you are never bad or annoying for loving what you love, please continue being so passionate about things, because it's really cool. You're cool. I hope you know that ^^ and, well, if not, I'm telling you. You're cool and your work is amazing.

(If you would prefer me to pm you feel free to post about it here or your personal? blog, whichever you're cool with, I'll probably see it and can just pm you with like "haha yeah I'm the long rekindled-interest anon" or you can answer this or just read & delete, I really don't mind if you don't want to answer ^^. Just, wanted to say this. Again I hope this isn't weird ;w; I swear I'm just a little adhd guy who used to love GF a lot, and possibly might be okay enough to start interacting with it on his own. And your love for the franchise helped.)

Hi this made me tear up (iN A GOOD WAY I PROMISE AHSDOFISADH I CRY WHEN I'M HAPPY LOL), this is seriously so, so sweet. Thank you so much for sending me this!! 🥹 I'm really glad that all of my silly Gravity Falls stuff has helped you get back into the show, and I hope you enjoy it and enjoy the Book of Bill if you get it!

Also, this seriously means a lot to me, especially because I'm actually really self-conscious about my interests and passions haha. I'm terrified of being seen as annoying, and there's been a lot of times recently where I've shut down out of the fear of being annoying about my interests. But I'm starting to not give a shit about whether or not people find me annoying online?? I want to be super vocal about something I adore so damn much cause it makes me happy! I've also been burnt out on drawing for a WHILE, but reading this book has given me so much inspiration, and drawing feels really fun and exciting again for the first time in a while! I struggle with depression a lot too, but my love for Bill and excitement about what's to come for the series has helped me feel really happy and kept me going for the first time in a bit. So, while I'm still scared of being perceived as annoying, I'm really happy right now and I want to keep doing stuff that makes me happy, even if that's just drawing Bill antagonizing me / my sona lmao. Seriously, thank you so much for sending me this! It's incredibly sweet and I'm really grateful that you did ;w;

Also you can absolutely reach out over DMs!! I would love to talk, but I hope you're having a wonderful day!! 🥹❤️

[schtroumpf-a-lunettes]

8, 10, 13? :3c

Thanks for da ask ^_^

8. Now for the platonic side, what are your favorite friendships?

I'm not too sure... I like approaching canon less on an individualised ship or friendship basis and more of like... a zoomed out view of overall cohesion/sociology of the village or individual smurfs (focusing more on the individual smurfs themselves as opposed to the dynamics that exist between them and other smurfs). If that makes sense. I like the idea of Smurfette & Vanity friendship. I love the one-sided friendship that Sassette extends to Gargamel so much too it gets to me...

The thing about the smurfs (and a big cushy comfortable appeal of it) is that there's just a general sense of camaraderie among everyone which is really sweet and nice. They have a lot of good will amongst each other so they'd all consider themselves friends with everyone else, so I like thinking of them in those equalised bonds kind of sense and don't focus on the unique nature of different bonds a whole lot. Like obviously there are kind of established duos like Handy and Hefty and stuff like that but yeah. And obviously there isn't a sense of automatic "camaraderie" ALL of the time... obviously there's hostility and disagreements and fights sometimes. But the status quo is always skewered towards friendliness. And some smurfs are obviously less popular than others (lol) but you get what I mean... there's still (supposed to be) some sense of friendship extended nonetheless.

So yeah not much of a substantial answer more just me talking about my specific approach. not to say that I don't think about the nature of some of the specific friendships sometimes of course! But off the top of my head I can't automatically pinpoint favourite friendships.

10. If you were a smurf, what do you think your name would be?

HAHA okay so back in my DeviantART days I did make a smurfsona called Bookbinder Smurf/Bookbinderette (the latter formation SMH AAA but I was like. 14. okay guys. Also the whole -ette thing was so extremely common back then). I am well and truly not much of a self-insert person it's just not a concept I really do or one that appeals to me much, though I support my self-insert-ing friends 100% in their endeavours and love seeing the stuff they come up with. BUT. Making sonas was just so commonplace/"expected" back in the deviantart era so I was influenced by that at the time. And also, there were a bunch of people who made sonas to selfship with Brainy which I personally was not interested in doing, so I thought it would be a nice change of pace to have a sona who isn't shipped with Brainy but is just like. his assistant or whatever. dbsdhsdjds aaaaaa. The name "Bookbinder Smurf" is because they would like... help take care of Brainy's books because it's extremely common for his books to incur damage in the show. So this sona would like help "fix up" the books and protect them and stuff (even though I have no actual bookbinding skills irl LOL). And I thought it was a bit funny/interesting to have Brainy the self-appointed assistant have a self-appointed assistant of his own. He'd like the veneer of Officiality that would give him for sure.

(An IRL friend of mine like lightheartedly bullied me about Bookbinder Smurf omgggg and this was like. years and years later when I'd forgotten about the sona and then my friend found it and just. omg)

As for the present day, I really got no idea! It's just something I haven't really thought about at all. My place in relation to canon remains, as is often the case, comfortably outside of it! XD All power to self-inserters though again like I said. I really love seeing the stuff a lot of my friends come up with. But yeah it's just not my general personal approach, really.

13. What are your lore/worldbuilding headcanons?

Yesss this is something I really enjoy, looking at the smurfs as a Species, a Society, their history and how did they get here etc etc! So, I published an incomplete draft of a fic a while back, The Law of Murphy, which I still intend to return to and improve/finish when I can, that starts getting into some of this stuff. But it's important to note that I was very much inspired by other content/fics that exist out there. Well, I have one specific fic in mind - the one called "Brainy's Glasses" which does its own worldbuilding/explanations about smurfs and their history which really inspired me, but I still kind of sought to adjust to something different for my own thoughts/ideas.

One idea proposed by the fic Brainy's Glasses (for anyone reading this, if you're not aware, this fic was NOT written by me lol but I love it) which I thought was really cool was the notion that Baby Smurf's magical abilities are actually the default state for all smurf babies to exist in... The idea is, there was a time where baby smurfs would just... land in the forest at random; there was no designated village for them to land in - so the new baby smurfs would need to fend for themselves and would mostly grow up solitary, so they would have a lot of magic when being a vulnerable baby in order to protect themselves from danger, and then that magic would fade as they got older as they learned new/different skills in order to protect themselves and survive.

(The fic had an explanation for why this didn't happen for all the smurfs in the village to not have had that magic growing up btw, it all tied together neatly enough. And also gave a backstory for Brainy's poor eyesight too - hence the fic title "Brainy's Glasses"! I recommend anyone reading this to check out that fic if they're curious enough, it's a good read ^_^)

Now, there are pros and cons to a headcanon like that - if you use it outside of the context of that specific fic, then like... you'd still have to "explain" why e.g. all of the smurfs didn't have Baby's abilities when they were young, since they don't seem to have (if you want to be canon compliant). And it also detracts from the notion that Baby is Special(TM). And I like to believe that Baby just happens to be a really really Special Guy for any number of possible reasons. So it's a fun headcanon to consider but yeah I don't necessarily "adopt" it for the canon itself.

But let's look at another headcanon that "Brainy's Glasses" story gifted me with - the notion that smurfs, back in a time when they were mainly solitary creatures that grew up fending for themselves, generally just had the name "Smurf" because if they weren't in contact/communication with other smurfs, there was no real need to distinguish.

I took that notion and modified it for the story draft of The Law of Murphy. So here are some possible headcanons/ideas about smurf society/history that I (began/want to) explore in that fic:

Smurfs used to live collectively in a village historically, just like in the "present day" of the show canon. But they were a lot more "closed off" from the outside world and insular back then, and more suspicious/"hostile" to outsiders/places outside the village compared to the "present day" canon.

Every single smurf used to uniformly be called "Smurf". No modifiers. Everyone would be treated interchangeably - they still recognise each other to like, be individual beings, but that individuality simply isn't deemed important to them or matter a whole lot. Everyone's just called "Smurf" because that's all they really like, need to get by with. Also, everyone dresses identically - no outfit modifiers. Uniformity. Except for the village leader who does wear a different colour akin to present-day canon.

Over time, modifiers to names would get very slowly introduced... but it still wouldn't be a smurf's official name. So instead of "hey, Smurf, come help me with this" it might become "hey, happy Smurf, come help me with this" (where "happy" does not denote a name or an expected default/standard state of being, but rather, merely the present state of being - a smurf who just happens to be cheerful and be in a good mood at that present moment). This would kind of be necessary, because if everyone is called Smurf, if you were to only say "Hey Smurf, can you help me with this?" every smurf in hearing distance may think you were talking about them. If you instead say "Hey, Smurf in a particularly good mood, can you help me with this?" or "Hey, Smurf holding a hammer right now, can you help me with this?" then only that specific smurf knows to respond.

This would evolve into a kind of pseudo-name... like... "happy Smurf" might become a smurf's default point of reference if they are in a good mood often enough to get referred to in that way. Still not an official name, they still might get referred to in different ways, or as just "Smurf" but nonetheless.

This would just keep becoming more commonplace until official names become the norm, like in the cartoon

All of this is inspired by comics lore and how things kinda work(ed) in the comics, with the comics having been in a later transition stage to having regular names, but still seemingly in an "earlier" stage compared to 80s cartoon lore in terms of their approach to names vs "basic way to distinguish one smurf from another, but not necessarily an official Name per se" (language obviously place a role here too I think, just the structure of French in the comics vs English in the 80s cartoon)

Same thing with outfits. Everyone (except Papa) dressed the same in the beginning of the smurf comics, but that changed over time. (Even Brainy didn't have his iconic glasses at first). So yeah, this was me taking inspiration from smurf comics and applying it to like headcanons for smurf history for the show.

Additional worldbuilding/lore headcanons/thoughts:

I've spoken about this before on this blog, but: Smurfs used to have absolutely no concept of gender whatsoever. When they had some interaction with humans, the humans assumed the smurfs were all male and gendered them with he/him accordingly etc. Smurfs, still without any concept of gender, weren't even aware of how they were being perceived/gendered, having a concept they didn't have applied to them by outsiders, so they couldn't exactly "correct" the humans if they never realised the misconception in the first place.

They accept (and adopt) he/him pronouns as default (and from their perspective, genderless) as influenced by the humans. So when they interact with other humans in future, they will readily use he/him, but both parties having a different understanding - smurfs still have no concept of what gender is despite use of the pronouns, while humans' assumption that they have a concept of gender and are all male is reinforced by the smurfs' use of he/him pronouns among themselves.

Over time, smurfs and smurf society comes to be slightly more influenced by outsider humans, and learns about (and adopts) the human concept of gender. Because they have all been using he/him for so long at this point, and the humans have been gendering them all as male for so long, they simply naturalise/"assume" the notion that they are all male. (I know pronouns are not gendered and not necessarily a marker of gender - anyone of any gender can use any pronoun - but the correlation of "he/him" with "male" is a driving force behind the naturalisation of "maleness" in smurf society, because of human influence/perception).

By the time of the 80s cartoon shows' generation, human concepts of gender have been very naturalised/adopted.

Smurfs used to use smurflanguage a lot more heavily. This is influenced (somewhat) by comic canon and such too - smurfs can talk in a way that's not understood by humans (they just conveniently don't most of the time because the human readers of the comic/watchers of the show need to be able to understand them lol). So I'm gonna assume in the Past when there was less influence from humans their language was a lot more heavy on the use of "smurf"! And they lost it quite a bit over time.

There's more that I like to think about, and am still trying to figure out, but I did write quite a lot already, so... :3.