#also these thoughts are inspired so much from the tags ive seen and ive been thinking about them so muuchhh

[blabberoo]

I imagine both drifter and bobby are somewhat desensitized of death. Bobby more so cares less of corpses and sees them more as things to loot, while drifter is somewhat numb to the ticking timer he's in (he makes off handed jokes about himself that sounds slightly concerning). Drifter still respects the dead and what theyve left behind, thinking that borrowing their weapons as some sort of relief for the dead (Quirrel's words ;u;). "Borrowing", because he knows well it will be used by others when these things outlives him, and hes ok with it. (He also believes that a tool that still serves its functions has no reason to go unused)

Bobby is a loud and proud jerk, and drifter rattled that concept simply by just being himself, unexpectant on how it would affect bobby. While he had been familiar of death, he never properly grasped the concept of losing someone he truly loved.

And he doesnt know how to deal with it.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

[gortash-week]

hello gortash nation. it is i, host of this week @sankttealeaf here! gortash week may "officially" be over but that means nothing when the archduke wants more! (he will not stop until he has more, please i miss my family he's keeping me locked away in wyrms rock prison and is making me dance for his amusement! i cant dance! help please!!)

anyway - despite the event ending, i will be leaving the AO3 collection open until the end of august / early september for those who found the event a little later and want to make something for these prompts. time is a weird soup after all, we don't follow rules here!!

if you've made something and have thought "oh no! its not the day of the prompt anymore - i cant post it" PLEASE share it!! i'm still accepting submissions and i'll still reshare any gortash week work here & tag whichever day its for! i know some people found out about the event as it was happening and if the prompts have inspired you - please share!!! i'd love to see it!!

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've participated in this event - whether that's making things or simply engaging with the content shared. it means the world to me that people found the prompts interesting enough to take time out of their day to make something for it. i had no idea this event would be as big as it's become and i'm so so so impressed with the wide variety of work made and shared!! everyone is so talented and i cant wait to see what other things you all make and write <3

as for the future? well, i'd love to run more events like this! i've mentioned before about a hypothetical "gort month" that would include two prompts per week, 8(ish) prompts in total. that way there's a loooot more time to work on things & if people wish to join halfway through it's a lot less pressure to do so! my aim for running events is to keep them as stress & pressure free as possible because theyre here to be fun! i'm also open to comments & ideas & feedback on how you (yes, you!) found this event so if i do end up running something else in the future it can be better and better! pls feel free to shoot me as ask (anon or not it's fine! be respectful though, that's all i ask<3) if you have any post-event comments you want to air and i'll respond!!

again, if i've missed any of your work you've posted, please send it my way! no message required, just drop me the link & i'll share it asap!! thank you to those who have done that already!! i easily miss things and i dont want anyone to feel like im purposefully leaving them out!!

thank you again for making this week so enjoyable! ive had such a blast hosting it and if i see any other events i'll be sure to reblog them here (for those interested: i've seen a wyllmancer week, a galemancer week (both on twitter), and a lae'zel week on here that i can't seem to find the post for to link to :( )

again - super open to comments and feedback or even if you just want to say hi! i'm way more active on my main blog if you're interested in hanging out there :3

thank u so much for this week, it's been so much fun <3 <3

[youredreamingofroo]

LOVE TRAIN INBOUND !! 🚂💨💨

This is inspired by @acuar-io !! Thank you for doing this and THANK YOU FOR THE TAG!! (even tho it didnt tag me properly 🤧)

Tumblr is silly and while I will tag ppl, I know not everyone will be properly tagged, so if u see this, skim thru the list for your name ESPECIALLY if your my mutual ! 🫶

To start off, I just wanna say that Fae (acuar-io) has some absolutely STUNNING sims, it's hard to exactly word it, but their sims are SUPER recognizable, and their saves (Snow flower, Cozy save, etc) are SO nicely edited, so aesthetically pleasing to the eyes 🫶😩

@oshinsimblr is the reason why I started storytelling (even before my simblr time) and why I try and find a story-related reason on why my sims/characters do certain things, her videos are also SO comforting and i love her lovesick series!!! and of course, @minimooberry the whole inspo for this simblr and why I render in blender!

@mattodore and @cinamun are AMAZING simblrs if u want rich storytelling and/or well-thought out characters, River has inspired me to really tear into my characters and give them more personality, and cina just genuinely makes such realistic characters and the tea is ALWAYS hot and simblr aside, she has very good takes >:P

@groovetrys and @circusjuney have been around on my blog and as my mutuals for a LONG time and they really are some of my biggest hype people, lori has an AMAZING legacy going on with her sim, Melody, and u should DEF check it out, and june makes the most amazing clown sims 🥹 theyre always so pretty and STUNNINGGGG

-> To add onto the above category, id also consider @miralure as one of my biggest hype ppl!!! Although they havent been around as long as june and lori, they always hype me up and it makes me stupid happy 😭 they make REALLY good lookbooks and i love their sim style SMMMM

if u dont know about @rebouks what are you DOING with your simblr-life, bc becca has some of the most human-feeling story/dialogue, i always get a stupid sappy smile on my face when i read her story posts

@jarakio has an AMAZING story called Girls with Guns and its prolly my fav story that ive read on simblr, the dialogue? amazing, the poses? amazing, the vibes? AMAZING, i'm ALWAYS hooked in whenever i see GwG pop up on my dash

@stellarfalls just HAD to be on this list are u kidding me????? Bree has a PHENOMENAL save called Valley, even tho there's no dialogue, each image and gif speaks more than words could, she's inspired me to kick up the quality of my posts and also start making gifs, I also consider her to be one of my biggest hype ppl, she always be coming in with the best compliments 🥹🫶

@torissims !!! She makes BEAUTIFUL posts, her blog is very yellow and orange and i LOVE IT, she pulls a lot of inspo from Studio Ghibli and even tho ive never seen any SG Movies, I can just see and feel the inspo, shes def underrated af 🥹

@amburgundy has BEAUTIFUL builds, and they dont just do TS4, they also make builds in other sims games!! (u did a phenomenal job with Madi's legacy house amber 🤝) I LOVE the clutter and they always looks so cozy 😭

@flovoid is another one of my hypemen LMFAOOO bro you and your tags literally make me so happy, i LOVE reading them. Flo makes AMAZING SIMS, and you should check out literally ALL of their sims, especially their sims Roo and Norman from Majima Land (first post under my Roo tag is me reacting to one of their posts with Roo and Norman, funniest introduction to a blog ever), Also their sim, Draco Almond??? He's got me tucking my hair behind my ear... 🫦🫦

@elderwisp has some of the most immaculate editing ive ever seen, the lighting, the vibes, the dialogue, the poses, the expressions, i be eating those posts up like im fine dining 😩😩

@changingplumbob is so chill, I love how much passion she has for her rotations, and her love for cats?? Perfect mutual to have, I also literally LOVE reading her behind the scenes posts, they're literally so funny 😭😭

@tricoufamily and @dejasenti99 make absolutely phenomenal renders, like if theres any renders on simblr that im gonna recognize immediately, its these two's renders, they're genuinely more HQ than my fucking eyes 😭😭

-> Also Nat (Missatan) makes incredibly HQ renders as well, these three are like... my biggest blender render inspos...

@buttertrait @missatan @virtualfolk @pearlean @claudtrait all have BEAUTIFUL sim styles, butter's is very unique, i know they arent really a sims 4 blog anymore but i ALWAYS recognize butter's sims when i see them on my dash and I genuinely love their sim style sm. Nat (Missatan) has SUCH a gorgeous sim style, you've heard of them hips dont lie, well her sims' lips dont lie 😩🫦 Virt (Virtualfolk) and Sam's (pearlean) sim styles are SO animated (if that makes sense), they're like eye-candy. Den (claudtrait), like Nat, has a sim style with the most luscious lips and poutiest faces ive ever seen and are just SOO pleasing to look at, like i just feel blessed in the eyes when i see their sims

@yukikocloud 's Apricot save and storytelling is incredibly reminiscent of Bree's posts, and I just LOVE looking at and reading her story posts, this post in particular just absolutely captivated me, I was drawn in and just get so giddy seeing the Apricot save pop up on my dash 🥹

@alientown @venriliz @nefarrilou @druidberries @machinegrl make STUNNINGGGGG occult (or cyber/robotic in Baja/Machinegrl's instance) sims. Nef always makes beautiful sims for their Cryptid "series", im just in AWE when i see their cryptids... Ven and Ana (alientown) both always make absolutely gorgeous alien sims and they also just have very unique/beautiful sim styles 😍 Baja's cyber girlies are just >>>>>>>>>>>>> I love her whole dystopian/cyber theme, its literally so good and so cool, and her Deadstars series? SO good. Alexis' (druidberries) elowen is so pretty, and her sim style, especially with occults, is just MWAH chefs kiss, literal eye candy

@swallowprettybird is just one of the sweetest people on simblr, I love reading what she has to say about mine and others' posts, and she makes amazingggg posts, I loved that one national geographic inspired post with the zebra, it was so well done

@softle0 makes some absolutely stunning builds, they always look so lived in, so cozy and I would ABSOLUTELY live in pretty much every single build they make

and honorable mentions to @droolski @felysline @pamsimmerstories @swiftviolets @weirdosalike @mushbop @calicosimgirl @shadowtrait and @seriallovertrait because I feel like they're all SO underrated, they're all passionate about their own stuff and I just love seeing their posts, and if you're seeing this, FOLLOW THEM 🫵🫵

Thank you Fae (acuar-io) once again for starting this train up, I love seeing stuff like this and it's so sweet to see what everyone has to say about one another, I may have spent 1 or 2 hours doing this, but it was INCREDIBLY well spent to be able to admire and appreciate all these people, them and every other simblr person, whether i follow them or not, deserve every last drop of love and appreciation genuinely

[meruz]

Lightbox Expo 2023 is over!! Thank you to everyone who stopped by the table. I can't believe I sold out of both my sketchbooks AND my digimon fanbook... (multiple prints too?!)! I'm incredibly grateful... I will have a 2nd print run of both sketchbooks and online orders for the digimon book up in the next couple weeks so please keep an eye out for that!

More gushing abt the weekend under the cut

I sell at an average of idk... 3-4 events a year? So I would consider myself a frequent congoer though not necessarily full time lol. I'm a little jaded like it's not that I don't enjoy going to cons but theres definitely a bunch that feel like just-another-con-weekend to me lol, sometimes it's more work than play I guess. But this con felt really different! For the first time in a while I left a convention feeling really thrilled and giddy that I had been there. The kind of feeling I used to get when I would table at anime cons in highschool! And I think a lot of that is the people I met and talked to and the overall vibes at the event. Oh also I literally just had surgery and going to this con is like the only thing ive done this week besides lay in bed and play Story of Seasons on the nintendo switch and I thought I would be in pain and miserable but actually I HAD SO MUCH FUN...!!!! even when i skipped after-hours socializing every night to go home early and sleep 12 hours lol. SO ANYWAYS. YEAH. IT'S CORNY. BUT I wanna say thank you again to everyone who stopped by the table. Especially all the coworkers and long time mutuals who I met in person for the first time this weekend!! And the long time followers who told me they have been following me since homestuck or naruto or whenever. And college classmates who I haven't seen since graduation, crazy talented underclassmen who I'd never met but stopped by to say hi... So many people who absolutely made my day. SPECIAL thank you to my table partner Emi who is the best and such a good sport and accommodating to the point that I feel ridiculous when she thanks me for anything. And um also thank you to the artists who were cool and nice when I went up to their tables and blurted out 24917596 compliments in rapid succession. or only got one really awkward compliment out to LMAO... I felt so inspired and awe struck by everyone's work! God it was just so cool to be there. I LOVE ART....

Ok yeah thats it. its been a while since ive written a post-con blog post so earnestly lol.. here's my obscene haul photo I was buying stuff at this con like I was dying and couldn't take it with me LMAO.

I'm not gonna go tag everyone because I don't think everyones on tumblr but if you dont mind doing a little google search legwork: big x-men prints from chase conley, prints from jacki li/bguavas, azusa tojo, xanthe bouma, nicodaboy, susan yung, hormstuck, nessa tweneboah, linda liu, ash tahilan, zines also from jason dwyer, ash tahilan, aprilyn cunanan, veggiecakeface, deb lee, dune5and, uhh yoichi nishikawa art book and parakid calendar, stickers again from ash, marie lum, hormstuck, chiou, and emi hartana/crowlets OKAY I THINK I COVERED EVERYTHING THANKS FOR READING

[latentspaceofficial]

research tangent! scp x wh13

so this is something a little bit different than what i normally talk about. i'm putting on a different cap today. ok little nerd moment thats been living rent free in my head for days. ive got an antistatic bag on my desk thats been sitting here for a while and i noticed something familiar

that sure as hell looks like the scp foundation logo

which got me really thinking. so its very obvious to me that the scp logo takes inspiration from this iso or ansi symbol. but whats even more odd was looking at the timeline of the scp wikis birth. im a zillenial (god i hate that word) so my childhood was watching markiplier play scp:cb, scrolling the old wiki, fucking with cleverbot. fun stuff like that. i was still a drooling idiot. when sci-fi renamed to syfy. but i remember the switchover and not being allowed to watch eureka because there were some "goddamns" in there. but i was allowed to watch warehouse 13, in spite of steve's existence. i was way too into the steampunk and lore of warehouse 13 when it was relevant. so much so i had a fucking farnsworth ringtone on my lg shit phone and i thought it was the coolest thing. i'm also still gay as hell for h.g. wells and her fit.

but anyway anyway. the premise of warehouse 13 was finding dangerous "artifacts" that imbued special status affects on people and to neutralize them with "neutralizer grid polyethylene static bags" as they say. their motto being "snag it. bag it. and tag it." or something to that effect.

what im getting at is that warehouse 13 has a similar premise to the scp foundation, but more mainstream comedy and less psychological horror. there's a tangential link between wh13 with scp via anti static bags and the symbol. so i looked into this a bit. through cursory searches, i didn't find anyone really talking about this other than a similar premise. so i looked at timelines. in july 2008 the scp foundation wiki (idk which one) was started, while wh13 piloted on july 2009. with a year delta, it seems clear "who stole from who". but wait. writing, pitching, and filming takes quite a while. is a year really enough time? i can't find any trademarks registered by universal nor any evidence of a canadian filming license. so this is where i stopped typing on my phone and started researching. the waters are a bit muddy, so bear with me. wh13 was co-written by a handful of people and rewritten as well. but the original plot was announced by sci-fi here in october of 2007

according to wikipedia (the free encyclopedia), inspirations for warehouse 13 include the x-files, raiders of the lost ark, something called moonlighting, and this show from the late 80s and early 90s called "friday the 13th: the series". i'd never heard of it, but it shares the vaguest premise with both wh13 and scp to keep bad artifacts away from harming people.

well what about the scp wiki? when did it form? well it's complicated. (i'm sorry for my poor cropping, it will happen again)

the scp wiki itself states that the original scp came from 4chan and that a lot of original organization happened on 4chan. indeed 4chan is the source of famous scps such as 173

posted on june 2007 is the original lore post about 173 and can be seen as the beginning of scps. which pre-dates the announcement of wh13. i don't know about you, but how fast you could go from trolling 4chan to a pilot script? at this point "some government authority retrieving dangerous magic embued items" was not a previously done idea and was indeed original. the x-files kinda did this before with balancing larger plot arcs with mini plot supernatural occurrences, not all aliens. but nothing about being an authoritative group that comes in and cleans up super natural mishaps. nah, mulder and skully just stayed in the basement or took an occasional road trip to see a whistleblower. i honestly love scp far more than wh13, but i'm going to be the devil's advocate and not give the new era spin on an old idea to the scp wiki just yet. 173 is an scp, but the idea of scps is not fully laid out yet. the thread was also deleted days later and thus only lived in the minds of active forum users of the time as fan derivatives were made. so there was a period of time where the fandom had started to form, but no official wiki existed. the semi official scp wiki formed in january 2008. later than the announcement of wh13 but before the pilot of the show ever aired in july 2009. so it's always possible the writers were 4channers and yoinked the idea. again, it's so fascinating how close in time and narrative the scp wiki and wh13 are. i personally doubt the writers were on 4chan at the time, but neither the wiki nor the show writers exist in a vacuum. i think it all warrants scrutiny and there's no smoking gun saying who inspired who, or if it's absolute coincidence. that is unless some ogs from the scp wiki or the writers of wh13 are able to speak on it. i'm curious what other people think.

[gaysindistress]

Do you do scenarios or headcanons? If so, how many characters can we request for scenarios or headcanons? Would you do the same prompt with different characters? Can we request for gender neutral reader? Can we request Halsin, Gale, Wyll, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor? Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc? Do you do poly ships x reader? Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily? Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex? Would you do NSFW requests? Can anons request smut? Can we check with you if you received our requests? Thank you in advance!

I had all of this info written in my main masterlist and navigation post but literally took it out last week😂😅 present me is now mad at past me but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️

I think this is mostly about BG3 so that’s what im basing my answers on. AND THANK YOU FOR SENDING SUCH A THOROUGH AND THOUGHTFUL ASK 🩷🩷 kisses to you my beautiful anon

Do you do scenarios or headcanons? If so, how many characters can we request for scenarios or headcanons?

Im down to do either. Lately I’ve been writing more headcanon type stuff but I’ve done both in the past.

As for how many, you could ask for as many as you’d like. Obviously the more the longer it’ll take me but also the more fun for me.

Would you do the same prompt with different characters?

absolutely!

My only thing is that I’ve had issues with people requesting the same prompt with other writers. I saw the same request (literally word for word) on at least three other fic blogs after I had gotten it and wrote something for it.

Can we request for gender neutral reader?

Of course! Ive been trying to make my stuff gender neutral and please tell me if I tagged it gn and it’s not. Im also open to writing male readers too!

Can we request Halsin, Gale, Wyll, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor?

Yes and please do. I need to share my thoughts on all of these lovely men with people.

Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc?

TRIGGER WARNING

Rape, suicide, and abuse between reader and main character are no gos for me. Other than that you can always send me a message and if it’s something that I’m not comfortable with, I’ll tell you and we can figure out something that works for both of us.

Do you do poly ships x reader?

I’ve never written a poly ship so idk if I would even do a good job but I can try

Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily?

Have you seen my Bucky masterlist? That shit is alllllll au’s. I collect au’s faster than Tav collected camp companions.

Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex? Would you do NSFW requests? Can anons request smut?

All of the above is a yes. Send me all of the things about how big of a sub Halsin can be or how Wyll would be the sweetest first time ever.

May I suggest reading ‘limits of a fae heart - five’ as an introduction to my nsfw work or running from the daylight if you’re looking for something with a darker tone.

Can we check with you if you received our requests?

I have a full time job as well as a husband and dogs that are very much my children so things might take me some time. I don’t mind the occasional “hey how’s it going? How’s the request coming along? Here is more inspiration for it.” but please be kind about it!

[ruiniel]

First Snow

Fandom: Castlevania Series (2017-2021)

Rating: G

Relationship: Alucard/Greta of Danesti

Characters: Alucard, Greta of Danesti

Count: 2.1k

Also on AO3

Additional Tags: First Kiss, Snowball Fight, Winter, Inspired by Castlevania, Post-Castlevania Season IV, Fluff without Plot, Pining, Greta POV

Summary: Published in 2021, from a time with winter #gretacard feels.

Wallachia, winter of 1476

Early December saw their first sweep of abundant snow as a sudden, restless winter took over the lands, but work and commotion never ceased. Greta walked among the people bundled in their fleece caps and winter coats, heading to and fro, milling about paths battered by frequent use. Thick smoke billowed in the air from newly built chimneys, and there were small fires started here and there, where spicy mulled wine frothed in dark cauldrons for all to share.

The winter holidays would soon be upon them, and the headwoman of Belmont looked gladly on their efforts, which yielded an already habitable location months after moving here and starting their lives anew. The fresh snow fallen in the night now clung like soft fluff to her leather boots, and her breath came misted white in the cold. She walked bundled in her own beige fleece coat, her hair braided back from her face and a green woollen cap pulled over her ears for added protection.

She sought left and right, searching for him — as she often did lately, it seemed. But, as with many other occasions, Alucard was the one who knew the details needed to help them move forward with another current predicament, namely designating which extra chambers they could convert to house some families whose dwellings were still unfinished. He repeatedly said his home was theirs, but she always asked. No one had ever given them so much, freely, without expecting a manner of recompense. It had always been so, from the monster hunters her people were forced to hire in times past to the communal authorities that never gave a damn about Danesti, a wide spot in the road to them where wandering people settled like driftwood.

Besides, Greta didn’t grudge the extra time spent in his presence, even for necessity’s sake. Some time had passed, and like those frightful bloodied nights spent reaching his castle, she’d seen Alucard change with the last, painful visions of his parents, the return of his friends, the deepening of their relationship. They were everything to him, and he had no blood relatives left to speak of. It was a particularity Greta shared, and one that made her see beyond his calm demeanor that grey, lingering sadness. It was in his smile, his eyes. She doubted it would fade for a while yet, but, as had been her thought at the beginning, Alucard did get used to them all being here. He thrived among them with every new spark in his eyes whenever a problem to solve presented itself, and Greta had learned he liked to be of use to others, to share, to create. It burned through his melancholy like embers through spider silk as they built fresh memories together, whether it was baby Simon hugging him and nibbling at his hair or the children asking to be flown around, or learning to make good polenta from the elder women. Greta smiled, and wondered again how much time had passed since her words to him that neither had ever acted upon.

I think I might like you.

She shook free of that admission, his wavering smile, the feel of his warm fingers on her skin. It was easy to brush it off as ephemeral attraction and craving spanning from a loneliness that had clambered over her heart and dug itself beneath her breast bones, and would not budge. Alucard had seen enough emotional turmoil that she wouldn’t, couldn’t, push for her own possibly one-sided needs and risk hurting him — and herself — in the process.

A sharp wind roiled across the skies, disturbing the clinging snow from the branches. It fell in ice sprinkles over her cap, dusted her shoulders. Her smile returned. It had been long since they had a peaceful winter.

It was a crisp day, and a pale sun was setting early beyond the frost-laced forest bordering the village, through limbs of bare oaks and heavy dark evergreens, setting the sky a cool blaze of blue, purple, and orange. Plunging her mittened hands into her pockets, Greta hurried to keep warm, and soon the unmistakable bubble of children’s laughter reached her.

She found them all at the base of a risen mound, watching as others barrelled downward from the hilltop on wooden sleighs. And there was Alucard.

He stood tall, arms crossed at his chest, a smile warming his pallid face. He was wrapped in his long black coat, his head uncovered, appearing completely unbothered by the chill. Greta raised an eyebrow at that — how he didn’t freeze to death was beyond her. The cool red sun shimmered on his golden hair, and he seemed a youthful ghost against the gleaming mass of white surrounding them.

That same yearning reared its needy head, and she smothered it down, instead relishing the way Alucard’s smile grew as the children’s laughter soared to the heavens. She then remembered he’d promised to build them all sleighs to ride out when the snows hit. And apparently, he kept his word. Now the woman understood the spark of glee in his eyes. Anda and Raul rushed off their new, polished wooden sleighs after they bound down the hill, giving Alucard a quick hug before rushing back to their games with the others. Soon they forgot all about the adult in their midst, busy with their own winter competition.

Alucard slowly turned on his heel, still smiling and shaking his head at their yelps and joyful cries and words of gratitude, a gloved hand waving the group goodbye. He looked so fresh, as fresh as the damn snow and something, something impish and sneaky brimmed at the back of her mind.

It must be the season, she thought; the relief, the throwback to similar times from the lanes of her own memories.

Whatever the reason…

Who cares?

Alucard hadn’t seen her yet, though he was striding back towards the same path, and Greta took the chance to hide behind the nearest tree. She knelt, slowly, and rolled a generous snowball in her hands. She straightened, hiding as Alucard neared, whistling — whistling! that was new — some old drinking song one elder taught him two nights before. She waited, and waited, until he was closer… closer still…

Alucard walked past the tree, and Greta rounded the trunk, snowball firmly in hand. Nearly there.

She aimed. Smiled; and struck.

Swiftly she hid behind her tree again, peering ahead and nearly bursting in laughter at the utterly confused and aghast look on his face as Alucard looked left and right, one hand still in his hair, clearing away the snow caught in his rich unbound strands.

If anything, she still had good aim, and as expected, Alucard turned, gazing suspiciously around the area. 

Giggling heartily now, Greta crouched down and rolled another ball of snow between her hands, faster now, about to rise and deploy another projectile—

“I see someone’s… busy.”

Greta stood and turned so fast her head spun, and before she could think, hurled her snowball, hitting Alucard straight in that perfect face.

She was still cackling for some reason, of course he would have sensed another presence with his damn abilities and of course he’d beamed right behind her, like the smart aleck that he was.

Greta jumped back, laughing openly at his rapid blinking, at the frown slowly creasing his forehead. She was hyperventilating, and before she knew it, her legs were struggling away from him and she was grabbing another handful of snow, which ended up as a white splatter over his chest. 

He’d still not moved, and Greta stopped some distance away, panting and smiling, watching the corners of his lips quirk upward; watching him lean down, his wolf-like gaze following her movements as he gathered snow and piled it between his gloved hands.

The first snowball missed her, and she yelped in shocked triumph. Greta stumbled back, turned and fled as another ball struck a tree to her left, dotting her cheek with icy sprinkles.

She ran again, and he was thankfully not using his powers, but good God his legs were longer than hers and soon a grip was on her arm, a hefty amount of snow in his other hand “Hah!” came an exultant hiss. “Got you—“

“Not a chanc— “ She stumbled on a rock hidden in the snow just as they were reaching the downward slope of a hill, and then she was crying out, and somehow they were both rolling down as the world turned and snow entered her mouth, her eyes, gushed beneath the collar of her coat. The downhill tumble was fast and confusing, and Greta moaned faintly, shaking her head as finally, everything stilled. 

She was splayed over something hard, warm and tense. 

Alucard.

Hair was in her mouth, and she raised her head, shaking the snow out of her vision. She sought leverage and rose, supporting herself on her arms.

Greta met his eyes. Those aureate beams that melted her knees, exposed her, sought through every nook and cranny of her soul. She concluded it was a good thing she was seated (in a manner of speaking). Her cap lay somewhere ahead of them, buried in snow.

Alucard was silent, his chest heaving up and down, watching her curiously as a deep red flush tinted his cheeks. Tiny snowflakes caught in his long, black lashes. He was trapped beneath her, his warm breath melting the ice on her lips. 

She should move.

Shouldn’t she?

“Are you all right?”

His voice, usually soft and deep as an endless night, was hoarse, cautious.

“Yes,” Greta rasped. Well, she hadn’t expected this.

Her thighs were grasping either side of his hips as she straddled him, and it took an effort to soften her body, making to move; a gloved hand was on her hip, pressing down. Greta blinked, her eyes trailing to the uneasy quiver of his lips, regretting it promptly the moment she caught his gaze. Her chest seized.

He knew.

“What is supposed to happen now?” Alucard asked, his words barely above a whisper. Like he was asking her; actually asking her.

“Nothing,” Greta said, though the word felt like grinding sand in her mouth. She didn’t know what came over her, should never have started this. “Nothing happens now. I was searching for you, I had a question on…” she paused. “Let’s get back.”  Get back… to what? To secretive glances when she thought no one was watching? To short, awkward moments of silence, where neither seemed to find the words or the will? Greta made to rise when his other hand pressed down on her other side, effectively keeping her pinned atop him.

“Greta.“

“No,” she shook her head, though the longer they sat like that, the more her body was melting against him like snow on warm skin. “No, we don’t have to… you...” His hand was on her shoulder, flowing to cup the back of her head, hedging her lower, down to him. “I didn’t mean for this... I…”

She didn’t resist, but she should try. Maybe he actually didn’t know what he was doing, and less so what he was doing to her. “We shouldn’t,” Greta mumbled, eyes closing as their foreheads touched. Warm. She shuddered.

Or was that him?

She dared not move as silence fell again.

“Is that your wish?” Alucard asked, very slowly. His eyes were mere slits of gold, the fall of his hair a halo around him in the snow. “Or you think it mine?”

He felt so good beneath her, his other arm bound around her waist, holding her closer still. She felt the press of his fingers keenly even through her layers, and he smelled so good up close, he felt… oh God.

Oh God.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Greta shivered as his fingers stroked circles at her nape. Well, all cards were on the table, as it were. She rose a little to see him properly.

What she saw left her raw on the inside, burning on the outside. She plunged her hands into his hair, brought her face closer, impossibly closer to his. Their noses bumped together — his was cold, so cold, and Greta could only smile, swallowing once before tilting her head just so... 

She gave in. Gave more, gave everything, all the loneliness and entire months’ worth of pent-up want, gasping when Alucard met her just as recklessly, and she couldn’t move, he wouldn’t let go, deepening everything she offered, hungrily, messily and with abandon.

His lips were hot and soft, his mouth so welcoming, then seeking hers, so tender she wanted to weep. Her last coherent thought before the world melted away was how well his body fit hers, like…

Like she belonged. Like home.

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[i-sveikata]

I've been reading various fanfics dealing with the series for a year now. Endless variations of Vegas and Pete, Kim and Chay... One shots, novels, longer stories. I feel like almost everything has been said and thought about. The fleshing out of the canon, the back story, the childhood and what might come after.

I developed a real addiction and couldn't get enough, especially of the complex relationship between Vegas and Pete and their respective very multi-faceted characters. The number of authors is huge, but I also spent a lot of time reading them. To my dismay, I am noticing signs of fatigue in me.

Now that everything seems to have been said, every possible happy or tragic ending seems to have been thought out and told, many fics veer off into alternative universes and genres.

It's all wonderful to read and I'm grateful that there are so many unknown but worthwhile authors whose work will never be printed but who are worthy of a large readership.

But: Since fanfiction is tied to concrete people and concrete, and to a readership that has seen the series. How do you see the future? The actors will take on new roles, if all goes well, new beautiful plots will be developed there too and good series or films will be made.

How long can the hype around KinnPorsch and the series continue? Do you have the feeling that everything is coming to an end, now that the anniversary of KP is being celebrated in a big way? Is boredom creeping up on you or is the end not yet in sight and is there still a lot that needs to be written? I have also asked this question to other writers because it really bothers me, but I would be interested in YOUR answer.

Hi there!! hmm interesting question and I don't really want to discount how youre feeling or anything but i do very much doubt that everything that could be possibly said and thought about for this fandom has been done already.

because this show isn't really that old? and the age of the show or when it finished really has no bearing on the existing fandom if you think about it. at a certain point fandom breaks away and becomes its own separate entity.

like i wouldnt say im an expert but the things that keep fandom alive are not really even directly related to whether there's new episodes or video clips or content about the actors from the show that the fans can consume.

take teen wolf for example (because its a fandom ive been in the longest) that show ended in 2017 and literally as of now when i've just checked it on ao3 it has 106,344 works written for it. A show that started in 2011 and finished six years ago. And people are still posting stories for it today! (i myself still have some WIPs which i eventually intend to finish off and share) ignoring the fact that there was a teen wolf movie recently that hardly anyone in the fandom watched it's still inspiring fic, and fanart even now six years later.

and why is that? because there's no time limit on a fandom, it's because of the fans creating things like fanart, fanfic, playlists, gifs, meta analysis, tumblr posts, twitter posts, fandom discords etc. because having a constantly running tv show or a movie or book doesn't keep a fandom alive. fans do.

to compare right now, the works i can see in kinnporsche tv series tag in ao3 havent even topped 10,000 yet. like seriously let that sink in. 106,344 fics to 9,556. like im not really trying to compare right now but its just to give you some idea that KP in particular is really just starting out, like we are literally dealing with a baby fandom here so i wouldnt despair just yet that people have already run out of ideas or that its already finished because if you have dedicated fans behind you you can end up with literally over one hundred thousand stories to read about that fandom. and tbh teen wolf isn't even the biggest fandom out there!!

And if you are feeling fatigue with the KP fandom right now then of course i would recommend stepping away from it for a while in order to give yourself a break. because at the end of the day it is totally up to you to customise your own experience.

im not really sure why it matters whether authors writing for this fandom will be published or not? im mean they literally cant legally publish fandom works? or profit off it? not without sanding the story down to repurpose it for entirely new characters. but you can always save or download copies of your favourite KP fic and if you are interested in a physical copy you could always get these bound into a book yourself (with permission from the fic authors of course).

im also a little hesitant to address the comment about 'worthwhile authors being worthy of a large readership' because it kind of discounts all of the other authors who are putting their time and effort into posting stories and might not be getting the same level of comments or kudos or attention as others. like the whole point of keeping a fandom alive is to interact with all of it and if you want to encourage more content than that means dealing with the fandom at a community level. (im not talking about the dont like/dont read elements of fandom obviously the rule of thumb there is to just click out)

But i personally really dont like the idea of setting some authors above the rest because their stories might have gotten more attention or traction within a fandom. it's meant to be a community. not a hierarchy. nobody should be on a pedestal in fandom. and i would hesitate to put any number of people above anyone else for this reason. like we really all are just people being inspired by the things we watch and experience. and by suggesting that some authors might be 'worthy' it also implies that others are not, which kind of goes against the spirit of fandom imo and can be really discouraging for people creating art or fic that might not be getting as much likes, reblogs, kudos, comments etc compared to others.

I also just want to point out that a lot of people come into fandoms without having ever watched the specific content that the fandom might be about? its actually a very common thing and they still read and engage with the fandom anyway in spite of this? so its really not tied to specific people or a readership that has watched the series.

At the end of the day i really don't think hype is what keeps a fandom alive, it's the dedicated people within that community who like and share and comment and talk to each other about the stories they love.

personally im not at all bored with this fandom (and tbh im still not bored with teen wolf lol) so i hope you aren't discouraged by the idea that a fandom simply will fall apart without its tv show because i absolutely can reassure you that it wont!

and also, taking time from a fandom can also mean that when you are ready to come back there's always the possibility of falling in love all over again. so really dont let the fatigue bother you! just because your love might be waning for the show doesn't mean that others are feeling the same way! there's always plenty more for people to share and enjoy and talk about so its not really over.

tbh fandoms dont ever really finish or disappear completely anyway. like at the end of the day you have platforms like ao3 where peoples works are archived for all time and tumblr where hints of fandom will always still roam about in reblog land. that kind of love doesn't just vanish!

welp this was a long response lol but i hope it helped in some way!

[chevvy-yates]

OCs as other characters

got tagged by @bnbc, @shynrel-vp & @fereldanwench — thank you <3

Rules: take this quiz and share 5 (or more! or less! the world is your oyster!) results from the top 50 that you feel really fit your oc(s). if you don’t recognize very many from the top 50, feel free to expand into the top 100.

———

I'm not so familiar with all the TV series neither newer movies (just my picky taste), so do not wonder why same series/movies might pop up again in all of my boys bc I didn't know most of it.

RYDER

Best matches:

Bruce Wayne (The Dark Knight): 79%

YES. THANK YOU. Wie Arsch auf Eimer!

Wealthy dude, but fucks up all the mean people harmfull to the city! Just to mention that is enough here.

Jasper Hale (Twilight): 78%

fits best to him of all the Twilighters and I have to admit am a bit weak for Jasper also. I definitely see similarities! Ryder had 3(!) Twilight chars in the first 50 (edward had evven 82% but I don't see much of edward im Ry so Jasper). lol he's definitely vampire cursed — it's a total running gag! xD

John Smith (The Man in the High Castle): 77%

I ain't seen that comin' but yeah, the attitude kinda fits (I have only seen the first two seasons tho).

Darth Vader (Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope): 76%

Vader is one of the first characters that fascinated me as a small kiddo (and I love Anakin T_T) and I do see why there's a similarity.

Beast (Beauty and the Beast): 75%

T_T Yes, Ryder is a beasty prince for real, who got cursed. And well what can I say, other than this is fate?

———

THYJS

Best matches:

Legolas (Lord of the Rings): 80%

Faaaairyyyyyyy – there is indeed a lot of Legolas im him, when I think about it now.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast): 73%

FATE. Nothing else. Thyjs is Ryder's Belle, yo.

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope): 71%

In a world of Star Wars he'd definitvely have been a Jedi similar like Obi-Wan.

Gandalf (Lord of the Rings): 71%

Tbh I just chose Gandalf i nthe end bc of the same color xD maybe Thyjs will get as wise as Gandalf one day?

Glenn Rhee (The Walking Dead): 72%

I liked him. Heroic dude!

———

VIJAY

Best matches:

Brian O'Conner (Fast & Furious): 88%

THIS seriously fits. Brian O'Connor was a huge inspiration for Vijay, too.

Neo (The Matrix): 83%

Never thought about that but it makes … sense?

Lucius Fox (The Dark Knight): 82%

So that is why Vijay and Ryder work together, ah!

Marty McFly (Back to the Future): 82%

:DDDDDDDDDDD DeLoreaaaaannnnn, 80ssssss

Sam Winchester (Supernatural): 81%

I thought he'd be more like Dean all the time but given that he's got a brother now Sam's character might fit a bit better to him.

———

JAYSEN

I chose to do Jaysen as well because this might help me a bit more to find out his character. I took out only 3 of them, tho since I'm not entirely sure yet. Best machtes I think that might fit to him in how I think he's gonna be:

Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith): 82%

oh boy. I definitely see the Anakin attitude. maybe not the he went dark side part, tho. as in turn to corpo, be a mean charcter I mean. There's just something "dark" tied to him similar like with Ryder.

Billy Butcher (The Boys): 77%

I just do find this interesting. I need to rewatch The Boys.

Dean Winchester (Supernatural): 75%

Tbh, I saw a lot of Dean in Vijay already myself since he's one big inspiration ever since, but since Vijay got Sam in the results and I see Vijay as the more tame, calm and logical of the two twins, Dean would definitely fit to Jaysen here looking at it this way.

———

Dunno who has been tagged already, (if you have just one oc and did it already feel free to ignore the tag – I just thought of you <3)

Tagging:

@f001onthehill, @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @itzsassha, @kittenchrissy, @gloryride, @nervouswizardcycle, @breezypunk, @pinkydude, @afterdark-vp, @dustymagpie

Also no pressure an no must to do!

[gaeasun]

20 questions!

Tagged by @mwolf0epsilon , thanks!

How many works do you have on AO3?

64, a very nice number

What’s your total AO3 word count?

334,693

What fandoms do you write for?

yep just star wars

What are your top five fics by kudos?

-Fading Into Black (a MLB fic where the hyperfixation faded mid fic...)

-Voices of the Past (where a squad of Obi-wans old friends come rescue him from the inquisitor fortress)

-When Was the Last Time (a fic inspired by @amikoroyaiart, where Cody and Wolffe visit Fox and make him take a nap)

-Found You (Wolffe enter's Fox's psyche with a little time travel too to bring back his missing memories)

-Protocol T-10 (Dogma returns from Kamino with even more trauma, and Torrent uses a little TLC to help him heal.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to every comment because a) i like talking about my thought processes and b) i really like comments so im hoping people will be more like to comment if they think i'lll respond

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

defintiely I Cannot Stop This Sickness. take a look at them tags if you want to read

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

im not sure i can really answer because i try to make most of my fics have happy endings lol.

Do you get hate on fics?

not so far and im sure hoping it stays that way

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

nope

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I write them on occasion, theyre fun if i can get all the lore to match up nicely which is my favorite part of writing them. My favorites are Oh Captain My Captain (Fives gets to be Captain America, in SW universe but with CA plot points) and Fox, Fox, Let Down Your Guard (Tangled AU where Fox is Rapunzel, in Tangled universe)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No. closest ive seen is some similar points.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

almost did once but it didnt work out

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

not into ships much but Bail/Breha are i think the best couple in star wars. Totally healthy, both had huge responsibilities that they managed very well while continuing to atay devoted to each other, and they raised Leia Organa and did an excellent job.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

One about heartbreaks creating golden scars and Dogma having a lot of them. its pretty angsty and i havent felt angsty enough in a while to finish it.

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told im pretty good at chracterization, and i also make giant and complex but working plots that spring from my head like athena.

What are your writing weaknesses?

sitting down at my darn computer and writing. especially when theres no action or big plot happening.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't speak any other languages. I know bits of Spanish and Mando'a but not enough to really write a bunch.

First fandom you wrote for?

Miraculous Ladybug.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Why are you asking me to chose between my word-doc children. I really can't.

@calamity-aims and @saltsanford, get tagged! (no pressure)

[cedobols]

hii i draw and post on instagram but have been thinking ab posting on tumblr from now on, just wanted to ask if you have any advice andddd idk do you like it here?

i love it here!! but i think it really depends on who you are as an artist. for me having others enjoy my art & talk to me is really important bc it encourages & inspires me to keep going. i dont get much interaction on insta and i find it harder to achieve the same sense of community that we have here.

i also love being able to directly support n boost others posts by reblogging (on multiple blogs even). i dont think its the same on insta. and tagging systems help tremendously! people can leave their thoughts n little notes of love .. its just so much better than insta. when it comes to numbers i have a feeling its easier to build up an audience on insta than tumble (esp if ur subject matter is currently relevant to societies interests)

it cld just be that im bad at being an artist on insta (true) but i rlly enjoy the community here. i think theres a wider range of content on tmblr than insta: shitposts, art, fic, textposts, graphics, gifs etc. and i like that we can decorate our little blogs n organise posts w the tag system hehe

any advice i have…. hm…. use lots of tags on ur art, interact with similar posts, support/boost others, involve urself in the community. and i think most importantly: don’t behave as if being an artist makes u any better from ‘regular’ fans (bc we’re not). i think the key is being kind to everyone and in turn they’ll be kind to u. keep ur blog/posts positive bc theres so much negativity on here & ive come across art ive loved but seen the creator engages in a lot of discourse on their blog so chosen to stay away.

thats all ive got really!! i hope this helped in some way!! if not 😵‍💫 thanks for stopping by anyway heh i appreciate the ask ^^ i look forward to seeing u & ur art around!!! have a lovely holidays nonnie

[snickerdoodlles]

You have an upcoming old guard au and howl's moving castle au for patpran? 👀

i do!! :D the old guard AU was inspired by this edit by @/patprans because i went feral the second i thought of patpran being in love for 2000 years. its premise is 'what if pat and pran were immortal in bbs canon?' and runs from there. of the two AUs, it's also the one closer to being finished (nearly 8k long too! who am i even!!). i rly need to completely scrap the last 1.5k of the fic or so and rewrite it completely, i just havent been able to bring myself to do that yet lol. id love for it to go up before the month is out but...we'll see how well i stick to that plan 😂 💦

the howl's moving castle AU...well, if im in a fandom, assume i have a HMC AU. howl's moving castle is my favorite series ever (and Diana Wynne Jones my favorite author ever) and it really influenced a lot of my writing style in general, so i fall back into that universe quite often lol. the PatPran HMC AU will be called listen with your heart (dont have much in that tag yet, but. soon. i talked a little bit about the opening premise in the tags of this post though)

it's high school era!PatPran (specifically their senior year) and it starts with Pran accidentally attaching his revolving door to Pat's bedroom door instead of his own (always double check your maths kids!!) but he won’t be able to move the door to his proper bedroom one for Reason. so as you can see, Pran is Howl, Pat is Sophie, and Calcifer will be an OC named Fig, and i think ive made @jemmo cry over this AU no less than 10 times already. i dont know when i'll finish this fic because its getting um. Long. but its a big love letter to Pran's kindness, Pat's care, and knitwear, so I'm really pumped to share it when i can 🥰

and since it's going to be a lil while til its done, here's a little outtake (~1k) from the first time Pat meets Fig the fire ghost under the read more :D ~

):) (:(

No sooner does Pat reenter his room when he hears the tell-tale whistle-click of his door changing. All thoughts of changing out of his school uniform fly from his head as he dumps his schoolbag in his entryway immediately and turns on his heel to bother Pran. He grabs hold of his doorknob with an eager wiggle and after a quick mental count to three, throws open the door and lunges in.

Pat fully expects to fall onto Pran and get shoved back into his room with a shout and a scolding. But instead of Pran, all he meets is empty space. He stumbles into the home beyond his door with a gasp and--barely--manages to get his feet under him before he falls flat on his face. 

Pat gapes at the newfound territory in awe. He’s stolen glimpses of this room before, of course, but this is the first time he’s seen it. It’s a strange place; Pat had thought Pran now lives in a dorm at his new school, but this looks more like a full cottage to him. The living space has been converted into one large workspace, tables littered with half-finished projects, shelves crammed with textbooks and supplies, a cheerful fire crackling in a large fire pot beneath an open window. A small open kitchen is tucked into the corner and just past it, Pat can see a small hallway of doors open to bedrooms, a bathroom, and extra storage space. Everything smells overwhelmingly of spice and smoke that make Pat's nose itch like he needs to sneeze.

“It is a wizard’s space,” he murmurs to himself as he admires the strange room and begins to poke around. He’s never been in a magic workshop before--all the laboratories in school are firmly locked to only allow magiks in--but after he gets used to the overwhelming newness, he starts picking out little bits of Pran in the smiley faces decorating the spice jars and the animated faces on the strings of globe lights. Pat admires one of the faces making an exaggerated scowl at him with little inked huffs and giggles to himself. He resists the urge to explore more when Pran isn’t here, instead turning to the fire in the corner with a raised eyebrow. “Does Pran know you let me in?”

A grinning shadow of a face appears in the fire. It’s hard to make out completely, like Pat’s looking at something through the heated ripples of a mirage, but silvery flames emerge through the pink-gold flames of the fire’s body to form two mischievously slanted eyes and a jagged gash of silvery grin. It looks positively wicked, and Pat can’t help but grin back at it.

“Not many people see me, much less so quickly,” the fire ghost says. Its voice sounds like the hiss-spit of a burning wet log, but Pat gets the impression its pleased all the same.

“Did Pran say you could let me in?” Pat repeats stubbornly. He’s curious, but not that curious. Besides, it’s no fun breaking rules if Pran’s not there to scold him.

The fire ghost’s grin doesn’t falter. "You were always here,” it says in a pleased whine. A log in its pot cracks in a giggling spit of sparks. “I just opened the door.”

Pat purses his lips suspiciously. So that’s probably a no. He’s not sure a fire ghost will just let him leave if he goes about it directly though--and it must sense Pat’s plans, because the sharp whistle-click of the door changing sounds behind him, leaving Pat trapped until Pran gets back. Pat’s not annoyed by this, per se. He doubts Pran would let a fire ghost that would harm him or his guests into any home of his. It’s just embarrassing to be stuck here until Pran can come bail him out, and Pat had left his cellphone in the bag he dropped in his room like an idiot. He’s not sure what else he can do but wait though, not when the fire ghost offers him a seat on the stool nearby its pot and admires Pat with open curiosity.

"I’m Fig.”

“Pat,” he offers with a friendly nod hello.

“I know,” Fig says. It crackles with a little flare of warmth. “You’re the one Pran likes to visit.”

Despite his best intentions not to snoop, Pat can’t help but perk up with a pleased grin. “He said that?”

Fig lets out a series of spitting sparks and cracks that Pat thinks is supposed to be merry laughter. “Pran shares everything with me,” it says conspiratorially.

Pat raises his eyebrows dubiously. “Why would Pran tell anything to a fire ghost?”

Fig flickers sulkily. “I’m his fire ghost. Of course he shares everything with me.”

Pat laughs and leans closer, not hearing the door latch release. “Pran bound himself to a fire ghost? My Pran?”

Fig flares brighter right as a voice echoes coldly from the doorway. “Snooping, Pat?”

Pat whirls around with a sunny smile, and Fig echoes his greeting with a bright flare up that washes the whole room in warmth. “No! Fig brought me in, he said I was supposed to be here,” he rats out shamelessly, eyes glued to Pran.

Pran ignores him in favor of glaring at the fire ghost flickering big and bright just behind Pat. “Did he now?”

Pat lets out a small sigh from his nose. He’d known that must’ve been the case, but he had hoped...

“And I didn’t snoop,” Pat adds on mulishly. “I was waiting for you to come back.” Pat brightens with a gasp. “But you’re here now!” he says cheerfully, and dives for the nearest shelf full of books and jars to poke through.

“Ai, Pat!”

):) (:(

[caroldantops]

hey! im quite new here and i have seen a lot of talk about readers interactions and i was wondering what is the best way to support my favorite writers (like you) because i think i have been doing this wrong and i really want to support writers who do this<3 ps. sorry if that was confusing, english isnt my first language

not confusing at all babes! you're 100% clear.

also can i just say, i very much appreciate you asking this. i would much rather more people speak up and be like "hey, we dont know the best way to support our favorite writers so how can we?" other than just. Not Knowing and Not Doing Anything.

so, im going to speak from my own personal experience but also what ive seen many of my mutuals/writers i follow talk about. this might get a little long but i wanna answer as thoroughly as i can because people should know!

im putting it under a read more because it got hella long, but please i encourage everyone who reads fics but don't interact to read and consider these things.

fellow writers i encourage you to reblog and add any other commentary you think is helpful!

before anything else (this is absolutely not directed at you, anon, you're perfect), i just want to get this out of the way. never come to a writer's blog and get angry with them for complaining about lack of engagement. like jesus christ. writers are putting hours of work on tumblr for you for free. the least we ask is for comments and reblogs. that's it. if you go and act shitty towards writers who ask for more engagement, yet still follow and wait for the next fic, like what are you even doing bro. just stop.

anyway. now let's get to the actual question!

basically all writers on tumblr will agree, reblogs are vital. and i feel like that gets said a lot but maybe people dont actually understand how impactful it is so lemme give an example.

so let's say hypothetically i have 100 followers. that is 100 potential people who see a fic that i post (i say potential because timezones exist so you might not see it as it's posted)

and let's say one of my followers (Person A) reblogs it, and they have 50 followers. that's 50 more people that can read the fic.

and let's say Person B followers Person A and they also reblog it to their 50 followers.

with only two people reblogging a fic, that's already doubling the number of people who have read the fic.

now imagine Person C followers Person A and reblogs the fic, and Person C has like, 1,000 followers. that's so much more exposure for the writer.

and that's only from two followers of the writer. so imagine if all 100 that read the fic reblogged it? the numbers skyrocket at an exponential rate.

plus, more people reading means that the writer could get more people follow them. so they get a more consistent audience.

likes, on the other hand, do not guarantee this exposure. i would say that most people don't have their likes public on tumblr. and also, even if they do, i know that I'm not about to scroll through people's likes rather than scrolling thru their blogs. likes up the notes, and that's about it. of course i understand liking a fic so you can come back to it later, i do that all the time. but if I've liked a fic, i always reblog it once I've read it.

now, say you're reading hardcore smut that you might not want on your main blog for whatever reason, so that's why you don't reblog a fic. look, i get it. sometimes irl people follow your blog, or sometimes you just don't want people to know what you're getting up to. but that's why i made a sideblog specifically for fics.

this entire blog BEGAN as a way for me to reblog fics i liked. and then it grew and grew and grew into all this. not saying that you have to start writing if you do that of course, but i guarantee, i'd rather see a small sideblog blog with like 3 followers reblog my fic than a blog just like the fic and leave. because that's still 3 more people who will see my fic and possibly read it and reblog it. 3 is better than none.

comments. reblogs are important, but comments are really what keep writers writing. they inspire us with new ideas, help figure out what it is that people enjoy from us, help us improve our writing, and most importantly, they make us feel good. and like writing and posting is worth it.

now, i know that sometimes it can feel awkward reblogging with a comment directly on the post. i even usually don't do that unless it's with a friend. but here are some alternatives/tips!

send an ask or DM! if you're really intimidated, sending an anonymous message is by far the easiest way to bypass that awkwardness.

write in the tags!! i cannot express this enough. comment in the tags. ramble about the fic. just put three tags worth of screaming. literally ANY comments in the tags are my favorite thing. i promise you that writers will scroll thru like basically every tag.

also, if they post it on both tumblr and ao3, don't feel weird about giving a little comment on both! i do that all the time. you can even be like 'hey i read this on tumblr first but wanted to say again how much i enjoyed it' and that is like, heart burstingly nice to hear.

also, if you're having trouble coming up with something to say, my like top commenting tip as both a writer and a reader is point out something specific that you like about the fic. when i comment on a fic (this is moreso when i comment on ao3 bc my comments are always longer there) i try to point out a particular line i like. literally if you just copy and paste it and go 'wow i really really like this line especially' that is the number one way to a writer's heart. seriously. it's the simplest thing, but it makes SUCH an impact.

however, if your comments are only asking for more fics, then that's not a comment, that's a request (which not all writers take).

saying something like 'hey i loved this fic a lot! if you have more in store for this in the future, i'd be really excited to read it!' is a million times better than 'will you do a part 2'. i know they don't sound that different, but i promise you that the tone makes a big difference.

(i honestly have more thoughts about good ways to get over commenting fear/know what exactly to comment that doesn't feel generic, so if people would like me to make another post about it i'd do it.)

and last but not least, if the writer has a way to donate, like a ko-fi, that always is so appreciated. of course, take care of yourself first, but if you have a few bucks and wanna show some support to your faves, that's a great way to help :)

oh! also, if the writer ever reblogs those little ask game things, just send them something! engagement outside of writing is also so much appreciated.

i think that's about everything i can think of! i hope this is helpful and that my explanations weren't confusing (if i need to clarify anything let me know). and again, thank you so much for asking! even doing that shows that you're a reader who cares, and that means the world ❤

[someonestolemyshoes]

So at risk of stepping out of line here are some prompts of many genres for you! I dont know if any of these tickle your fancy.

Hange Survives the rumbling

Magic AU (specifically what would they be skilled or not skilled in. I always picture Hange as being good at illusions and Levi being good at combat magic but best at house hold charms for example)

Zombie apocalypse AU (Levi was a little disgruntled at first to have a tag along but warms up to her pretty quickly and mostly against his better judgement. He is forced to concede having someone to watch his back is nice after she saves his life though )

The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange.

Hange and Levi pranking Erwin in increasingly elaborate ways while keeping their identity a secret. As he gets more and more frustrated.

Just straight up angst with a capitol A

Ive honestly thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written and look forward to seeing more. I dont know etiquette for offering prompts and hope I didnt offer too many. I just thought they sounded cool.

I have saved all of these because there are so many good ideas BUT on this occasion I have decided to write the following: The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange. This was also inspired in part by something @glassesandswords said earlier regarding Levihan and ballroom dancing. There is no (real) dancing, but there is a ballroom.....does that count? 

They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.

Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.

The ballroom was beautiful.

** 

The carriage pulled up in a stone-paved courtyard outside one of the most extravagant buildings Erwin had ever seen. Much like everything else in Sina, money had been thrown about without restraint, to create halls and mansions and castles each bigger and more gaudy than the last. They functioned almost exclusively as a show of wealth, save for the occasional ball or banquet where the space was welcome, and the rich were more than happy to showcase their spoils.

Tonight, this particular hall had the honour of hosting the Benefactors Ball. It was an opportunity for the military factions to rub shoulders with nobility, and garner themselves some additional funding—politicking disguised as polite conversation over glasses of champagne, each one likely costing more than the monthly budget allocated for the Survey Corps as a whole.

Erwin stepped down from the carriage and took in the space. The building was tall, all white stone and huge, arched windows, polished until they shone, reflecting the evening sky. A wide staircase led to a set of great oak doors, thrown open and exposing a glimpse of the entrance hall within. The interior was full of buildings like this, large enough to hold hundreds, but vacant for most of the year, while the people within Wall Rose lived like cattle, penned into cramped houses with one room for a whole family.

Behind him, the carriage creaked as Levi climbed down. He stopped beside Erwin and stared up at the lavish building with his lip curled, his distaste evident. He made no efforts to hide his disgust at the gaudy display of luxury, and did not bother lowering his voice when he said, "stinks like pig shit. Filthy rich bastards can't pay someone to wipe their asses properly?"

Erwin cleared his throat, swallowing the urge to laugh. He perfectly understood Levi's disdain, for the sentiment was widely shared, both throughout the Corps and much of the land outside of the interior. People lived in poverty, struggling to make ends meet and fighting for rations while the rich ate decadent banquets full of more food than they could ever hope to consume, growing fat and idle in their comfort.

To his left, Mike had alighted from the carriage and was busy straightening his suit. He showed less restraint than Erwin, snorting and garnering some scathing looks from the passing attendees. Erwin fixed his face into a pleasant, appeasing smile, and spoke through the side of his mouth. "Better not to insult our company if you want to eat over the winter."

"We're already eating scraps like dogs," Levi protested with a sharp click of his tongue.

"And you'll be eating less than that if they cut our funding. Behave, please."

Mike shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by Erwin's scolding. Levi shot him a scowl, but did not argue and instead turned to talk over his shoulder, barking out. "Oi, four-eyes. The hell is taking so long?"

There was some shuffling inside the carriage. Erwin could hear Hange grumbling to themself inside it, and then their voice called out, somewhat petulantly, "I feel ridiculous."

"We're running late," Erwin said. "Come on."

Hange swore quietly, then sighed. More shuffling  and Erwin heard the carriage stairs creak as Hange climbed their way carefully down them, manoeuvring awkwardly with all the loose fabric around their legs. They stood stiffly beside Levi, adjusting the thin, silk shawl across their shoulders and pulling it over their chest. The neckline of their dress cut too low for their comfort, which Hange had complained about endlessly on the ride here, and the midnight blue fabric fell to brush the tops of their feet, where they had been forced into a pair of flat, thin-soled shoes that were already rubbing the skin of their heels raw.

The dress was very pretty, and in truth, Hange looked very pretty in it, but their discomfort showed painfully in their high, drawn shoulders and slouched posture, curved over themself to make their long, thin frame appear as small as possible.

"I don't see why I couldn't wear a suit like everybody else," Hange said, huffing to blow their fringe out of their face. Nanaba had fixed their hair in a delicate half-up do, a pretty, intricate bun fastened at the back of their head while the rest of their hair fell in loose curls just past their shoulders. Already, they seemed annoyed with it, constantly pushing it away from their face and neck. Mike turned to examine the view and Levi, who had been watching Hange slyly from the corner of his eye, slid his gaze forward and away. Erwin cleared his throat, but made no comment. The organisers had been clear about their dress code requirements—no military decoration, suits for the men and dresses for the women. Hange's military record had decided their fate for the evening, and no amount of arguing or pleading could change that.

After a pregnant pause, Erwin politely held out an arm for Hange, and gave them a somewhat apologetic smile. "Shall we?"

Hange kept their hands to themself. They shook their head and made a vague gesture for Erwin to walk ahead, following closely behind him and Mike, whose combined height and bulk blocked them from view. Erwin felt a little guilty, for forcing Hange to come, and for refusing their multiple requests to dress in something they felt more relaxed in. But Erwin understood well how the benefactors operated, knew that a pretty face in a nice dress had sway where stoic men in suits did not. Hange's frosty attitude towards him was enough to convince him that they understood, too.

They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.

Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.

The ballroom was beautiful. Long tables lined the walls, piled high with more food than they had ever seen in their lives, steaming joints of meat, fresh and tender, and fish, vegetables steamed or roasted and coated in unfamiliar herbs and spices. The combined smell was mouthwatering. Beside him, Mike breathed long and deep through his nose. There was a huge, open floor in the centre of the room where the attendees were mingling, the men dressed in sharp, well-fitted suits and the women draped in elegant dresses, fine jewelry studding their fingers and wrapping their wrists, pearls and gems hanging from their necks. A great, ornate chandelier hung overhead, lit with what felt like hundreds of candles, the firelight ducking and weaving, shimmering from the hanging crystals and casting pretty, shifting shadows on the floor below. On one wall, huge windows ran from ceiling to floor and displayed a well-groomed garden flushed pink in the setting sun, dotted carefully with trimmed bushes and pruned flowers, a great stone fountain set in the centre,

The four of them stood in a line in the open doorway. Erwin observed quickly, efficiently. Many faces were already blushing a little red, from the heat and their full stomachs and the champagne, ferried around the room by waiters carrying trays, darting about the space with choreographed ease. He spotted a few of the key benefactors, those with the fattest wallets, and took note of the drinks in their hands—tumblers of amber liquid, whiskey or brandy from the bar, or else goblets of deep red wine that stained their lips and teeth. A glass or two more and enough sweet, sickly compliments, and Erwin felt confident they could come to some financial agreements.

He turned to look at the others. Mike's expression was neutral, eyes masked by his long fringe, but his posture was relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Levi's eyes had once again roved to one side, where Hange stood, taking in the room with one arm covering their chest, their nails scratching absently at the skin of their neck. Levi clicked his tongue at them and reached up, flicking their knuckles.

"Stop doing that, idiot," Levi said. "You look diseased."

Hange's neck had indeed turned a deep shade of red where their nails had raked at the skin, swelling in thin, raised welts that threatened to split open with much more abuse. Hange pulled the shawl tighter around themself.

"I have a few people I need to speak to," Erwin said. He shot them each a look in turn. "Mingle, but please, stay out of trouble."

Mike nodded. Levi shrugged a shoulder. Hange glared at him, the candlelight catching and glinting off their glasses. Erwin trusted the group, but not completely. Mike had a penchant for dry sarcasm, and Erwin had observed of late that Hange and Levi could make an explosive pair when left to their own devices, equally as volatile whether they were conspiring together or else at each other's throats. Collateral damage within the Corps was easy enough to iron out—traumatised recruits were simple to deal with. Offended benefactors and interior personnel were a whole other matter. Smoothing out Survey Corps relations with their funding parties was a headache Erwin didn't need, if he could help it.

Hange, though, looked ill-equipped for mischief. Erwin couldn't recall a time he had ever heard them seem quiet, or seen them so tense. Of all the soldiers Erwin had ever known, Hange was the most loose, relaxed, with little regard for military hierarchy, no sense of personal space, and a lack of shame so absolute it bordered on admirable. He had never seen Hange so subdued, before. He might have found the reprieve from their usual exuberance peaceful, if not for the itch of guilt that came with it.

But he didn't have time to dwell on it. There were more important matters to attend to, and Erwin took his leave from the group with a stern nod, leaving to greet Pixis and Nile where they were talking politely with some bloated, red-faced nobles.

The evening passed in endless addresses. Erwin flattered his way around the room, speaking humbly with innumerable men, smiling and taking their backhanded compliments with grace while pushing another drink into their greedy hands.

Over the shoulders of one stout man with yellow teeth and breath like tobacco, Erwin caught sight of Mike, dutifully nodding his head as a gaggle of older women flocked around him. He panned his gaze around, searching for his two missing soldiers, until his eyes landed on Hange where they stood near a corner of the room, engaged in awkward looking conversation with a lanky man who seemed to share Hange's usual sentiments about personal space. He was taller than Hange, but had stooped until their faces were close, and in both of his hands he held one of Hange's, stroking over their knuckles as he talked. Hange had a forced smile on their face, but even from this distance Erwin could see the strain in their neck, the tightness in their face, their free hand white-knuckling a fist full of their dress at their side.

Erwin had known Hange long enough to understand the concentrated effort with which they were holding back. He would have to thank them later, for not causing a scene, but he could have hardly blamed them if they had. As he watched, the man brought one hand up to Hange's hair, following a loose curl from the crown of their head, past their cheek, and to their shoulder, where his fingertips danced lightly at their collar. Hange's face was pale in their anger, and Erwin was mentally preparing the kind of speeches he'd have to give to excuse Hange's indiscretion, when a figure appeared at their side offering a glass of champagne. Erwin's brows rose.

Levi had come out of nowhere. He pressed the glass insistently at Hange, who quickly pulled both of their hands free to take it. Their admirer looked sufficiently displeased by the interruption, straightening to his full height and looking down his nose at Levi. Levi stared back impassively, gaze unwavering as Hange spoke, gesturing towards Levi, and Erwin watched with some smug satisfaction as introductions were made, and the sleazy old man realised exactly who had joined their conversation.

He stuck around for only a moment, before taking his leave. Hange watched him go, then visibly sagged in place, taking a long gulp from the delicate flute and bringing their hand up to their throat. Levi said something that made Hange laugh. Their smile was small and the shake of their shoulders was slight, but it was genuine. Levi slapped weakly at Hange's hand—they had been scratching again, the skin of their neck red and irritated. He took the champagne flute from their hand and drank the rest, depositing the empty glass on a nearby table and pulling a face, running his tongue over his teeth. Hange laughed again, a little brighter this time, some delight reflected in their face as they watched Levi's twisted expression, and when Levi said something that looked suspiciously like piss off, they laughed loud enough that Erwin could just hear it. Levi nudged at Hange's ribs with his elbow and Hange grabbed onto his arm, wriggling away. When Levi stopped his prodding, Hange didn't let go of him. And then the crowd shifted, a throng of men heading towards the bar, obscuring Levi and Hange from his view.

Huh.

That was interesting.

Levi had been with them for just over two years now. He had opened up very little in that time, remained almost as stoic and distant as he had been when he had first been recruited. He spoke little, and what conversation he did make was always rude and often perfunctory, coaxed into short, one-word answers or non-committal grunts. He dealt with Erwin because he had to. He tolerated Mike due to proximity alone—where Erwin went, Mike was never far behind.

His forbearance of Hange was more confusing.

There was no real need for them to spend much time together. Outside of meetings and events like these, compulsory gatherings where Erwin preferred to bring his most trusted subordinates, the pair of them were never required to be in each other's company. He'd had no doubt that Hange would be pushy; they were fascinated by Levi and had been since the beginning, keen to observe as much as they could, to understand and employ whatever technique it was that allowed Levi to move so quickly, to fight so efficiently. He had been unsurprised to see Hange hovering around Levi shortly after their first mission together—"like a fly on horse shit," Levi had said—and it had been no shock to him at all that Levi's dismissal had fallen on deaf ears.

But time had passed, and despite Levi's constant grumbles and complaints, seeing the two of them together had become an increasingly familiar sight.

Things weren't always amiable. There was a lot of bickering, loud disagreements where Hange would whinge and push and prod and Levi's anger would build until he was steaming, and there had on one occasion been a physical fight, the kind of feral scuffling in the dirt usually reserved for children. Erwin had broken that up himself after battling to the centre of a watching crowd, and the pair of them had sat down across from him at his desk, their faces resolutely turned in opposite directions, their hair and clothes coated in dusty, dry soil, with  swelling bruises on their cheeks and split skin on their knuckles. They pointed fingers, each laying the blame squarely on the other, and neither had admitted the root cause. Erwin eventually dismissed them with a headache, and demanded that whatever their issue was, they resolve it—civilly. He had wholly expected another scrap, but had been pleasantly surprised at finding the pair of them sitting together in the mess hall that evening—they were arguing about Hange's ludicrous notion to capture a titan when he had passed them, Levi jabbing his fork at Hange's hand when they slyly reached for his bread, but there was a familiar light in Hange's eyes, one that told him this argument, at least for now, was not serious.

Erwin had been pleasantly surprised to see a similar expression reflected on Levi's usually flat, stoic face. He had ripped his bread loaf in two, and dropped half of it silently onto Hange's plate as he told them, "for the last damn time, no."

Levi afforded Hange for more leniency than he did to anybody else. He would pull a face when Hange threw an arm around his shoulder, but he never pushed them away anymore. He'd grumble if Hange dropped next to him on Erwin's sofa and wriggled their does under his thighs for warmth, curse them for putting their dirty feet on the furniture, but it had been a long time now since Levi had knocked their feet back to the floor. He would badger them relentlessly about their greasy hair or the dirt under their nails, and in the same breath he would tug on their ponytail, his fingers sinking easily into the knotted, unkempt hair.

And now, this—Levi barely tolerated using communal utensils, opting often to clean his own cutlery before eating. To drink directly from the same glass as anyone, let alone Hange, who Levi notoriously butted heads with over their personal hygiene, was unimaginable. And yet.

Erwin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, and turned back to his companion, falling easily into conversation once more.

The evening dragged on. The sky outside the great windows was full dark, the stone fountain pale in the moonlight. The water shimmered, dark and spotted with the light from the stars. Erwin's throat was dry and sore from talking, but he felt satisfied—he had secured plenty of meetings to negotiate funding, enough that he wasn't all too worried that they would inevitably lose a few offers when the alcohol wore off.

He found Mike near the bar, finally alone. Erwin crossed to him and greeted him with a nod, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar beside Mike to enjoy it.

"Calling it a success?" Mike asked. Erwin hummed.

"I think so. I'll wait until we are safely back at the barracks before I say for certain."

Mike snorted quietly into his glass. He was sipping from a glass of fragrant whiskey, something deep and smoky. Erwin took another mouthful from his water.

"And you?" Erwin asked. "Would you call it a successful evening?"

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A very lovely lady left me her address. She insisted I write to her."

Erwin's lip quirked. He hid it behind his glass. "Will you?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe. I figure she might leave me a big fat inheritance if I do."

Erwin chuckled, and looked about the room.

The crowd had thinned some, and those who remained spoke in loud, slurred voices that sounded over the lazy music played by the band. They stood around in small clusters, picking at the plentiful food and chugging down their drinks, bellies swollen behind shirts bursting at the seams. Pigs ready for slaughter, if it weren't for the work of people like them, who put their lives on the line for humanity every time they set foot into titan territory.

Mike elbowed him. Erwin hummed, and Mike nodded his head towards a corner of the room. "How's that for a success?"

Many of the candles in the chandelier had gone out, leaving the room with a smoky haze and the lights lower than before, a warm orange glow that barely reached the corners. Hange had sat themself on the corner of one of the tables, their feet dangling a little way off the floor as they drank from another glass of champagne. Their shawl had been replaced with Levi's jacket, buttoned just over their chest to cover them, and they had kicked off their shoes, bare feet swinging back and forth as they drank. Their hair had been thrown up into its customary ponytail, messy and shaggy at the back of their head. They looked much more like Hange, more relaxed, more comfortable.

Levi stood close beside them, his hip cocked against the table edge, Hange's shawl folded neatly and draped over his arm. The pair of them were talking between themselves, observing the room—Hange kept snickering, and Levi kept hiding his own smile with his champagne glass. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink, noticeable even with the distance. Hange twisted their head to look at Levi, still laughing, and reached up idly to fuss with his hair. Levi continued talking to Hange as though they hadn't touched him, his eyes glued to their face as they broke into a loud, tinkling laugh, the kind that carried like windchimes over the rest of the noise. Levi's eyes were a little wide, brows relaxed out of his customary frown, and his lips were a little parted as he stared openly at Hange.

"You think he knows he looks at Hange like they put the sun in the sky?" Mike said. Erwin laughed and shook his head.

Whatever Hange said next must have been teasing. Their lips spread in a sly smile, showing teeth, and their eyes pinched behind their glasses. They leaned a little further into Levi's space, and Erwin noticed Hange's leg drift sideways, their toes brushing against Levi's calf. Whatever Hange said made Levi grimace, but he put no distance between them. One of his hands settled on Hange's knee as he leaned even closer, and the other came up between their faces to pinch at Hange's nose. He shook their face back and forth until Hange brought their hands up and wrapped them around Levi's wrist. Levi relinquished his hold, and Hange lowered their hands down into their lap, playing with Levi's fingers as they fell back into conversation.

Levi put no distance between them. Erwin and Mike watched the pair of them, watched as Levi swayed even further into Hange's space, his fringe brushing against Hange's brow. Hange was watching him curiously, their head tipped a little to one side—Levi initiating any kind of proximity must have been new, even to Hange, but they didn't seem at all bothered by his closeness.

Mike let out a low whistle. "Little street rat has a soft spot."

Erwin gave Mike a warning look, and Mike raised his hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just surprised to see the captain has feelings, is all."

"It's that hard to believe?" Erwin said. "He cared a lot about his friends, too. He has a heart."

"Somewhere."

Erwin rolled his eyes. Levi and Hange were still standing close, and Levi looked very much like he was debating something in his head. His eyes flicked over Hange's face, and his fingers curled slowly around Hange's, gripping one of their hands in his. Erwin found himself holding his breath, watching them, waiting with a childishly eager anticipation. As their superior, Erwin certainly shouldn't encourage interpersonal relationships between his soldiers—but they were his friends, too. If they could afford themselves a moment of happiness in this hellish world, Erwin wouldn't stop them. Not for one night.

And then Hange's eyes flicked their way. They grinned widely, turning their face and lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically across the room. Unthinking of their attire, Hange bent a knee up and braced one of their heels on the table edge, exposing entirely too much skin to the remaining patrons in the room.

Erwin waved calmly back. Mike raised his glass. Levi stepped out of Hange's space, pausing only to pull a face and silently drape Hange's shawl over their lap, to cover them where the dress had ridden up their leg. He slipped his hand out of Hange's and jammed it instead into his pocket, and shook his fringe over his eyes, looking at Erwin and Mike through it. His scowl was back in place, but the colour in his cheeks had intensified.

Hange spoke to Levi, then hopped off the table grabbed his hand again, turning backwards to keep a hold of his hand as he bunched up their shawl and scooped to pick up Hange's shoes, dangling them from his fingers as Hange dragged him barefoot across the ballroom floor. Levi followed behind, caught helplessly in Hange's wake. In the middle of the floor Hange paused, and turned to him so quickly the hem of their dress rose, twirling around their legs. Whatever they said made Levi shake his head, and then shake it again, more firmly, but Hange laughed that bright, tinkling laughter and held the skirt of their dress in their spare hand, dipping into an exaggerated curtsey. Erwin wasn't sure what had done it, whether it was the alcohol or the jacket covering them up, or perhaps it was simply the presence of good company, but Hange was behaving more like themself again, bubbly and alive, and Levi was as ever their hopeless victim, cringing when Hange spun themself down the length of his arm, paused briefly with their body pressed tight against his chest, and then back out again, teetering on their toes to keep their balance. 

They tried valiantly to coax Levi into a few off-beat steps, moving to a rhythm Erwin couldn’t identify. They smile was bright, their face pleasantly read, and they were wholly unbothered by Levi’s lack of commitment. Levi looked at them sternly, but the threat of it was lost in the bright red flush of his cheeks.

"You're no fun, Levi!" They whined, close enough now that Erwin could hear them. Levi clicked his tongue.

"You're acting like an idiot."

"I'm having fun," Hange said, tugging on Levi's hand. "You should try it! You might like it."

"Brat."

Hange grinned as though he had complimented them. Levi's lips twitched, but he held back any urge to smile and curled his lip in a snarl instead, hitting Hange's leg lightly with their shoes and urging them to start walking again. Hange saluted him and together they crossed the rest of the distance and stopped before Erwin and Mike. Hange kept a casual hold on Levi's hand and Levi made no move to part from them, but he glared at Mike and Erwin as though daring them to say something. Mike smirked, and Levi flushed deeper, but his grip tightened around Hange's fingers.

"Are we done?" Hange asked. Erwin nodded. "Good. My feet are killing me—who the hell designed shoes like? And I’m tired of creepy old men—which reminds me,” Hange reached into the top of their dress and pulled out a handful of napkins, which they handed over to Erwin. “These perverts seemed pretty eager to spare a pretty penny for a nice young lady like myself.” Hange pulled a face as they said it. “I can't wait to get this dress off."

Erwin noted with interest the way Levi's eyes slid to Hange, roving down the length of their body and up again.

Mike downed the last of his drink. "Finally," he said, stretching and following as Erwin led them towards the door.

"Tired after wagging your tail for all those grandma's?"

Hange snickered, and Levi's mouth pulled into half a smile. Mike, unaffected by the jab, only grinned.

"Exhausted. What about you, though? Eager to head back and pop some pain killers?"

"Hah?"

Mike's grin widened. He leaned closer to Levi, and Erwin had to strain his ears to hear him.

"I heard being whipped hurts."

This time, Levi did let go of Hange's hand. Quickly.

There was a carriage waiting for them outside. Erwin took the stairs quickly, eager to sit and rest for the duration of the journey back to the barracks. He opened the door and turned, waiting to let the others in, but only Mike was behind him. Levi and Hange were still at the top of the stairs, Hange holding Levi's shoulders for balance as they slipped back into their shoes. Their face was curled in a pained grimace as they descended the stairs and Levi was watching them closely, one of his hands hovering at their back. Mike looked delighted as they approached, and took great pleasure in offering Hange his hand to help them into the carriage before Levi could. He climbed in and sat beside Hange, leaving Levi to take the seat opposite them. Once they were seated, Erwin knocked on the box, and the driver urged the horses on.

Hange sighed loudly. They kicked off their shoes again, and dumped their feet into Levi's lap.

"Oi," Levi said, though there was no malice behind it. Hange wiggled their toes until Levi closed his hand around Hange's foot, thumb digging into the arch with practiced ease. Hange sighed happily and slumped in their seat.

Mike made a show of sniffing the air, and pulled a face. "Smells weird in here."

"Like what?" Hange asked sluggishly. They had let their eyes drift closed as Levi worked absently on their foot, the buzz from the champagne mellowing in the darkness of the cab.

Mike sniffed again. "Horny teenagers."

Levi's ministrations paused briefly, thumb and fingers stilling until Hange made an impatient sound and lifted their foot, shaking it in his face.

"Fuck off," he hissed, but continued. Hange poked out their tongue and gave him a satisfied grin, then rolled their head towards Mike.

"I think your nose is broken," Hange said. "'S probably just my feet."

"They do reek," Levi added. Hange sunk right the way down in their seat and pushed both feet at Levi's face this time, dodging his grabbing hands and wrestling with him when he caught ahold of them, until he slammed both of their feet back into his lap, victorious, and pinned them down by the ankles. Hange's face was a little flushed from the exertion and their laughter was breathless. Levi looked a little triumphant, eyes alight with something like humour.

Levi was having fun.

Erwin tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

"I don't know, Hange," he said, smiling. "I think Mike might be onto something."  

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ touya todoroki x reader → ❝safe in your arms❞

summary: your bleeding shivering and scared you stumble to the last place you thought you’d go for safety inspired by @one-lonely-whumperfly post word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: injury mention, blood mention, mention of being drugged, angst, fluff, light enemies to lovers a/n: ive been super unmotivated to write but this was a lot of fun so shoutout to this prompt. also it’s super cold here. hope everyone is doing well.

Dabi was enjoying a quiet night at his apartment. It wasn’t a nice place and it wasn’t in a nice neighborhood but it was the place he called home. Being around the league could be too much at times so it was nice to get away and have time alone.

He was laying across his dingy couch with a plastic cup of cheap whiskey in hand as he watched whatever was on TV when he heard banging at his door.

Dabi let out a huff as he stood up, if Toga was here to bother him again he was going to have to move and hide his new address. Opening up his front door ready to scold Toga the words disappeared from his mouth at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, slouched against the wall. Blood smeared across your face, a foggy look in your eyes, and fear and exhaustion rolling off you in waves.

There was a lot to wonder in such a small amount of time. What happened? Why did you come here? How did you even know where he lived? Granted he didn’t have time to consider these things as you were currently falling to the ground.

Dabi reached out to grab you, his arms wrapping around your waist just in time. He pulled you up letting you rest your weight on him so that you could stand.

“I didn’t take you as the type to show up at my place and fall for me.” He teased. Was it the right time for a joke, no, but he was a villain he wasn’t supposed to care about those things. Not to mention the anxious wave rolling through him was unbearable and cracking a poorly timed joke was an easy way to cope. The smirk on your bloodied lips reassured the worry of offending you that he pretended wasn’t there. Despite your acceptance of his joke, your reply was serious.

  “Didn’t know where else to go.” You rasped out. There was a rawness to your answer. There was none of that hero bravado. Just fear. It stirred something in him that he had been trying to pretend wasn’t there for a long time. It was easy to brush off when you were standing tall throwing his snarky banter back at him with the same level of wit he had thrown it at you with. There was something terrifying in your vulnerability that he couldn’t exactly place. Or at least he pretended like he couldn’t place it.

“Not sure if this would even be my first choice.” He said as he readjusted getting a better grasp on you. It was tempting to pick you up and carry you over the threshold of his apartment like a princess but he resisted. With your arm over his shoulder, he helped you to his uncomfortable couch, placing you down on it. Turning on the light he tried to get a better look at you.

Squinting from the brightness of the light only made things look worse. The blood on your face was still fresh, dripping down onto your clothes. Casual clothes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you in anything other than your hero costume.

He took your chin between his fingers with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of anymore, even more, surprising was how you didn’t flinch away from his touch. He wasn’t sure if that was some form of trust from you or just a sign of how out of it you were. There had to be some explainable reason you were here and not at a hero’s house or the hospital.

Looking at the cuts on your face he felt an anger rise in him that he didn’t expect. He wasn’t an innocent man, he had done this to people, he had probably done this to you at some point. Why was this upsetting him?

“Stay here, let me grab some stuff.” He said before going to the bathroom and grabbing his first aid kit from underneath the sink along with some wash clothes covered in warm water. Returning he knelt on the ground in front of you. Your eyes were closed and you were swaying back and forth even seated on the couch. He didn’t know anything about what happened but he had a bad feeling that someone had slipped you something.

“Tell me what happened.” A part of him was dying to know but he also knew you would need something to distract you from the pain of your wounds being cleaned up. Your eyes opened up and you stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Um, I- It-” You took a moment to get started. “I was at a bar. I was supposed to meet my friend. It was supposed to be a girl’s night, I got all ready, I even put on my favorite shirt.” You said looking down sadly at the black blouse you were wearing that was now covered in blood. Dabi carefully wiped away the blood on your face with the warm cloth looking for the wounds. “They couldn’t make it, hero emergency. I thought I’d at least stay for another drink since I was already there and dressed up.”

“Typical heroes, always running off.” Dabi scoffed.

“There was this guy, I didn’t think anything of it. I- I just wanted to finish my drink and go home but he started talking to me.” You said closing your eyes for a moment like you were trying to remember it all. “I thought he was maybe a fan. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, he got me a drink. I didn’t really want it but I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I would think a hero like you would be more careful.” Dabi scolded as finished cleaning up the cuts on your face. The thought of some guy bothering you made him sick which was unexpected. He moved on to cleaning the wounds on your face.

“I- I didn’t think he was dangerous.” You said in a small voice. Dabi paused, his hand resting on your chin tilting your gaze to his. For a moment he was pulled into your eyes, the warmth there even under the fear that still lingered. “I got up to leave, I was outside but my head was spinning. I didn’t drink that much, I knew something was wrong but I could barely stand up. Someone grabbed me, there was no one around, they pulled me into the alleyway there and I couldn’t do anything. My quirk wouldn’t work right, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself.”

The thought of you defenseless was far more upsetting than he could fathom. You hesitated to say what happened next, not that you really needed to, it was clear on the wounds that he was cleaning what they had done.

“Do you know who it was?” He asked trying to keep his voice even. The anger rising in him was hard to control, not that he was used to controlling himself.

“A local crime boss, or at least his guys.” You said. “I’ve been trying to stop him. He’s been using people, using their fear to get money and control from them. I’m going to stop him but he tried to stop me first I guess.”

Dabi made a note, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find him. Especially if he framed it as a business proposition from the league. That could wait, right now he just wanted to help you. How odd that was for him.

“Can’t let your guard down when you mess with underhanded criminals like that.” He said.

“What about criminals like you?” You asked. Your tone was teasing but he could hear the edge of honest interest in your voice.

“I’m a lot more straightforward. No fun beating your heroic rival when they’re already roughed up.” He said as he placed a bandage on your cheek. You had a few scratches on your face light bruises were already forming on your skin. “Let me get you some pain killers.”

Dabi returned with a glass of water and some pills before he went back to his room to find clothes you could wear. He grabbed a black shirt and some shorts.

“You can stay the night here.” He said. “Change into something more comfortable.”

You looked down at the clothes for a moment, possibly reconsidering the situation that you had put yourself in. To his surprise, you took the clothes and shakily stood up. He pointed you in the direction of his bathroom.

Dabi went into his room trying to tidy it up. Making the bed, grabbing the trash off the nightstand. He couldn’t recall the last time he had cleaned up for someone. He never cared what people thought of him or his place and it wasn’t like he had very many guests.

He turned at the sight of you in the doorway. You looked good in his shirt. You looked better in general, you had cleaned off the blood and grime that had been leftover and you looked a little more coherent now. He was still waiting for you to realize you were crazy for being here but you were still here.

You moved to lay down on the bed, pulling the thin covers over yourself.

“I’m cold.” You said.

“I don’t have any more blankets.” He replied. It wasn’t like he even needed blankets, he never got cold.

Before he could do or say anything else you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into bed. For a moment he laid there in shock as you scooted closer to him.

The silence wasn’t awkward or tense but he found himself wondering if he should say something to break it. Social anxiety wasn’t something that Dabi faced often, you seemed to be putting him through a lot of unfamiliar moments tonight.

“Why did you come here?” He asked finally. The question had been on his mind all night. The pause of silence made him wonder if you had fallen asleep.

“I was scared and felt alone, I could barely think straight I knew I needed to go to someone but for some reason, your face was the only one in my mind.”

Dabi glanced over to you, you were looking up at him with a soft look in your eyes that made his heart flutter. Having you here tonight made him realize that his fascination with you was past that of a villain has for their rival. His interest in you was resembling a crush more than anything else at this point.

The fact that in a vulnerable state you thought to go to him, no you weren’t even thinking it was an instinct that brought you here.

“You’re safe here.” He said quietly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in. Your head rested against his chest and the way you nuzzled against him made his cheeks warm. Your eyes closed and your breathing evened and he knew you had fallen asleep.

One night had changed so much for him. He wasn’t sure if you would wake up tomorrow and regret coming here or if just maybe you felt similar to him. The thought was scary but for now, there was nothing he could do except enjoy the weight of you in his arms and think about how good it would feel to incinerate the person who had hurt you.

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