#i mean unless you’re defecting.....

[kysuguru]

you REPLIED IM SO HAPPY😭😭🤞 btw the fact that suguru AND satoru are both her love interests im so HAPPY stsg for the WIN!!! i love how suguru and shoko automatically know what satoru is implying cause hes so so OBVIOUS!

i cant imagine the troubles suguru and satoru would have with reader.. shes so enduring and she allows them to do whatever because shes too sweet! ofc shes serious when the time comes down to it but i just know she takes the two lightly and cares too highly of their opinions to really say no to them. i 100% know suguru is worst when it comes to teasing her. in this universe i want to believe suguru does not deflect so he stays there w them. although reader probably does not realize the two actually is in love with her, she probably assumes they are with each other so she does not want to intrude.

what if shoko and reader were discussing about first dates and she finds out reader never had her first anything and sets her up with one? maybe rin or shin?! LOL and behold satoru and suguru being menaces and completely mean to her . the trouble they would cause to the way they would be so upset. reader actually enjoyed her first date but shes confused why stsg are so upset over her. they always teased her for not having a bf and when she does try theyre even more ruthless?? bc in reality to stsg they always thought she belonged to them and they’re actually in shock that shoko would do that knowing about their crushes on reader? (cue shoko laughing in the background)

i love these asks smmm😭 tysm for sending. and ur right!! i have chapter one and two written and posted on my ao3, but suguru doesn’t defect, i cant allow that. and yes… stsg are sooo annoying when it comes to jealousy. like they are so suffocating..

this is new, very new.

it was a brief conversation, so mundane you wouldn’t bother to remember it unless brought up. shoko asked a simple question. “you ever been on a date before?” after talking about her horrible experiences with lousy men. it was an easy answer, “no.”

and you thought it’d end there. of course it’s normal for girls your age to go on dates with other people, experience the life of romance at a young age, but it wasn’t odd to meet a girl your age who hadn’t been on a date. so you weren’t sure why shoko put you up to this.

rin sits across you with a beaming smile, the fluorescents of the cafe highlighting his freckles. you fiddle with the warm cup of coffee in front of you. you weren’t much of a coffee person, but you panicked and ordered the first thing on the menu. it was bitter, terribly so, you weren’t sure whether you’d prefer this or satoru’s cups of diabetes.

you sip on it occasionally, to make yourself look engaged. you hope your poker face has improved, you’d be humiliated if the bitterness on your tongue manifested itself onto your expression (rin noticed, but felt too awkward to speak up).

it’s weird, and you try pretending this wasn’t set up at a romantic date.

you like rin, he’s really nice, but you’d never even imagined him romantically.

he’s beaming at you, you think he’s blushing, and he looks as if he’s in a daze with his cheek resting on his palm. the look of adoration is so shell shocking you’re gazing around the cafe at other customers he might be looking at.

you chalk it up to excitement of being in such a nice place.

conversation with him is easy though, you realize.

it’s unlike satoru or suguru. suguru’s a listener, unlike satoru who’s a talker. they fit in so well with one another it makes it hard to fit in. you don’t mind that, watching from afar is enough for you. but you still yearn.

maybe that’s why shoko did this in the first place. to get your mind off of them. you suppose it wouldn’t be bad to broaden your spectrum, you needed more friends anyway. you couldn’t always hang onto shoko, suguru, and satoru forever.

hours pass, and before either of you know it, the sun sets.

rin was full of stories, he had so much to tell about kyoto, his classmates, and his missions. he was so fond of it all that you couldn’t bear to stop him. it was nice listening to someone on the same level as you. not that you disliked listening to satoru boast about his missions and how awesomely strong he was, but it was a nice change of pace to hear such things come from someone of your caliber.

you could get used to this.

your entering the school with a content face. you feel them both before you see them.

satoru drapes himself onto you, talking obnoxiously loud in your ear as suguru sends you a soft smile. your company with rin was wonderful, but you didn’t realize how much you missed your favorite people until you see their visages.

“where were you at for so long?” suguru asks calmly, though there’s a hint of something else you can’t really decipher. maybe suspicion.

“shoko set me up on a date with rin.” you say sheepishly, scratching your cheek.

they both freeze, you can feel the way satoru’s breath stutters as his hold gets loose. you look up at them both, brows raised.

…

it’s so silent. was it something you said? were they perhaps upset you didn’t say anything? did they want to tag along? you would’ve said yes immediately.

“rin from kyoto?” satoru whispers, and you think he sounds angry. you can’t fathom why, so you try and brush if off. even though there’s a seed of dread starting to grow in the pit of your stomach.

“yes... shoko said something about chemistry. whatever that means!” you chuckle nervously.

satoru let’s you go, backing away. now you’re worried.

“i-is something wrong?” you look up at suguru for assistance but he’s turned his head.

you shuffle your feet, anxious. they’re obviously upset, but you don’t know why. “did i do something?” that’s the only thing you could think of. or did they not like rin? he was a nice guy, so you wouldn’t understand why.

satoru rubs your head, startling you.

“it’s nothing, sweets,” he says.

but he’s walking off before you can speak any further, he makes a point not to let you see his face as he departs. suguru gives you a strained smile before he’s following. “night,” he mutters.

and even though satoru reassured you, that seed of dread continued to grow.

satoru and suguru are busy. satoru hasn’t asked for your notes in awhile. you wanna assume that he’s got it down until you hear him loudly bugging suguru for his notebook. your heart drops at the fact that satoru just hasn’t asked you. you don’t know why that hurts, it shouldn’t. maybe suguru just conveys the answer better, there’s nothing wrong with that.

they go out for lunch, leaving you and shoko in the empty cafeteria with your cold noodles. shoko’s great company, of course, but the lack of satoru’s loud voice and suguru’s scolding makes it feel eerily quiet.

nights in the common room have shrunk to just you and shoko. it’s been like this for a few days. only a few days. yet you feel as if these days are dragging on slower than usual. shoko notices, and rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath how pathetic boys could be.

you think she’s spoken to them, for they look at you a little more now. but they barely talk to you unless the situation calls for it, even then, they’re awkward.

but it isn’t until shoko has been in high demand after a dangerous mission that the first years came back from that you’re alone with them. you’re nervous, feeling their eyes trained on you. you don’t dare make contact.

they begin talking to each other, and you feel joy consume you at the familiarity of it. you’re looking up now, making eye contact with the both of them. satoru opens his mouth, but you intervene.

“i’m sorry!”

their eyes are wide.

“i’m sorry for whatever i did. it’s just.. you guys feel distant. if it’s because of me then—”

“i should say sorry,” your eyes flit up to suguru’s as he scratches his neck sheepishly. “i was being childish.” he speaks into his palm. “we were being childish.” he corrects himself, eyes glaring into satoru’s, who huffs and crosses his arms.

“so it was something i did?” your brows knit as a frown etched itself onto your lips.

“it’s more complicated than that,” suguru says. but you’re not convinced.

satoru mutters something under his breath, you catch nothing but rin’s name. so you ask him to repeat himself.

“i just don’t like rin, is all.”

you blink.

“d-did he do something?” you needed to know, if he hurt or insulted suguru or satoru in any way you were ready to break it off—

“no. not exactly, we just… don’t like you being alone with him,” suguru admits, flushed.

oh!

you felt relief fill your chest.

“i think i know now.” you smile, happily. they stare. they both lean slightly forward, anticipating. “if i ever go out with him again i’ll invite you both out!” you clap your hands together.

they were upset that they weren’t invited along. that makes sense. you’re relieved. satoru did eye that cafe whenever you three passed it.

they share a look, one of amusement and one of exasperation.

“such a ditz,” satoru grumbles.

“we’d like that,” suguru smiles.

you’re happy, so happy you could cry tears of relief.

“i’m glad, i thought you were both gonna hate me forever.”

suguru grabs your hand, caressing your palm, your heartbeat spikes. “that’d never happen.”

satoru scoots closer to you and drapes himself over your shoulders, the familiar action has your cheeks hurting from how big you’re smiling. he squishes his cheek against yours, rubbing softly as he speaks, “never go out alone with rin again, okay? you need at least me or suguru there, not even shoko’s enough!”

they will never forget how she betrayed them so.

“of course,” you exhale, joyful.

and yes, abt stsg ur also right! this is kinda a poly thing. stsg love each other and the reader

[deancaspinefest]

One Drop, when What You Need is the Ocean.

Author: Baileys | Artist: sidewinder

Posting on Friday March 15

Cas disappears after leaving once again to help the angels.  With God gone, Mary defected to the British men of letters, and the other major players all on their best behaviour, Dean tries to carry on as normal, hunt the things and save the people.  But the longer time goes by without so much as a text, the more his worry spirals. Then, just when all hope is lost, like the supernatural yo-yo he is Cas is back.  Only something or someone has siphoned off grace he didn’t have to spare.  As they embark on yet another case together, it’s a race against time to stop whoever it is from finishing the job and removing Cas from Dean’s life for good.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“I thought you said no one died here?”  They both step out of the Impala, grabbing their gear from her trunk.  Dean follows Sam down the hill heading for the nearby woods lining the property.  

“I said no one’s on record dying here.” Handing Dean a shovel, he has the nerve to wink. 

Walking across the wet overgrown grass, Dean decides to spark up less work-related conversation.  “So, you speak to Eileen recently?” 

“Nope.” Sam charges ahead, “you talk to Cas?”

Dean stops dead in his tracks.  It’s not the fact Sam would equate him and Cas as the same as him and Eileen, it’s that Cas has been radio silent for ten straight days now.  “That’s not funny, man.”  He manages to get out around the lump suddenly clogging his throat.

Something of his panic must come through in his words because Sam stops walking and turns around, lips pulling tight.  “Sorry, I know you’re worried.” 

“You must be too, right?  I mean this isn’t like him.”

Another, more complex expression passes over his brother’s face and suddenly Dean doesn’t want to know what he thinks.  “I mean, I talk to Cas, but honestly, unless there’s something major going down, I don’t see a few days without contact as a big deal.”

“Ten!” He shouts.  “It’s been ten days Sam and nothing, I- I’ve sent him texts he hasn’t read, left messages he hasn’t picked up, this isn’t like him, he -”

“He’s probably just lost his phone -” Sam shrugs, placating at first but then he cuts himself off mid-sentence and stares pointedly at Dean.  “How do you know he’s not picked up his messages?”  He pauses for a response, but when Dean starts walking and keeps his head down, he draws his own conclusion.  “Oh my god, you hacked his phone!”

“I had to!”  Dean cries in outrage, waving the shovel above his head.  “Hey, don’t give me that face!  I needed to know.”

Sam does indeed give him ‘the face’, adding an eyeroll for good measure as they continue towards their vengeful spirit’s grave.  “Next, you’ll be telling me you’ve put a tracker in it too.” 

“No,” He looks quickly away, keeping a steady pace, “but you are the second he comes back.”

“Dean, I am not invading Cas’ privacy just because you’re a controlling asshole.”

“What if he agreed?”  He asks.

“I’d tell him he doesn’t have to, because I know he’ll say yes to anything you ask.”

“Oh, he would not.” 

Reaching the graveyard, Sam tugs on his arm and stops them both, making Dean face him.  “Do you know where his phone is now?”

Dean manages to feign obliviousness for all of five seconds before blurting the answer.  “Maine.  It pinged off a cell tower in Fort Foster three days ago.”

Raising his shovel and making the first indent in the soil, Sam looks over at Dean, “So we heading to Maine as soon as we’re done here?”

Dean smiles, his first real smile in ten days.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Friday March 15)

[mayakern]

Hello, I bought skirts from you before you changed the fabric and after and I was upset at the fabric change. I have sensory issues, and the old fabric was nice and soft. The new fabric is very uncomfortable to me and I was wondering if it would be possible to order skirts with the old fabric in the future.

i’m sorry you don’t like the new fabric but it is not possible to get skirts from the old factory anymore unless we randomly have some old skirts laying around the office, which you’d have to email in about in order to find out.

we do not work with our old factory anymore. they had some quality and consistency issues that eventually escalated to the point where we had about a 60% defect rate with them (for reference, a normal defect rate is 1-5%). not only was this immensely wasteful and environmentally reprehensible, but continuing to work with them would have literally bankrupted us.

our new factory is much more consistent and uses better quality fabric and has higher quality sewing and they also have really wonderful certifications for their ethical textile production and labor practices, which limits the kinds of materials they can work with. they are certified up the entire supply chain, which is incredibly difficult to do because things like buttons and zippers and other fixings are often made with prison or sweatshop labor. similarly, a lot of affordable fabrics are made with harsh chemicals like formaldehydes or even lead, which are still present in the garments when you receive them. using a factory that is certified for ethical textile production means they do not do not use those harmful chemicals and that the garments are actually certified as safe, which limits our choices in materials but is ultimately for the better imo.

what i can say tho is that if you do not like the new poly skirts, you may absolutely love the viscose ones. they are buttery soft and super flowy. so if you’re interested in some super soft and comfortable solid color skirts, i’d recommend those.

[alexanderlightweight]

Cat Magnus waiting to see how Dragon Alec will react to people being around him is my new obsession. I love how Magnus is so smug when Alec gets all protective & cuddly. Also I was losing it at Alec eating Magnus jewellery cause they weren’t warded enough 😭🙈🙃

Ok so I have another request (or something I was wondering). What are they like in battle? I wonder if they’d be in sync or if Magnus would be more daring and Alec would be going feral anytime someone/something goes near Magnus. Also how would Alec ward Magnus? Would they fight in different forms? (human or animal or both).

This fic is honestly so amazing and I’m so excited to see it continue to unfold. You’re so talented 😬

alec has opinions okay. and magnus enjoys hearing them, but also he's still working on his draconic understanding so he only gets about a quarter to half of the language when alec's trilling at him.

he did get that alec told the jewelry it was 'no good, unworthy. not allowed' because it wasn't 'good enough to be on magnus'.

alec: i let magnus wear me and i am the most valuable thing here besides Magnus. he can't wear subpar stuff

magnus charmed despite all his best efforts: isn't he so dashing

magnus doesn't typically fight demons in cat form because ichor in fur is messy but he does have a more demonic cat form he uses in edom. magnus has a plethora of dragon battle magic jewelry and a very hungry dragon who is irritated he had to taste magic other than magnus'

unless they fought someone really powerful, alec won't interfere in magnus' kills. that would be like saying he doesn't respect magnus. he'll protect magnus and guard him but magnus made it pretty clear alec can't kill 'pests' so he's basically a giant protective dragon who mopes about not being able to just eat magnus' enemies.

alec crunching grapes: i wish these were the hearts of your enemies

magnus: what was that treasure?

alec sulking and just turning smol!dragon to crunch his grapes in piece and pretend they're peoples organs.

-

magnus when he finally asks alec to kill somene for him

alec: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

magnus who was just going to ask alec to freeze the person staring as alexander turns into a small mountain and just swallows the person whole like, no hesitation, no questions asked. annoyance now gone. alec licking his lips and looking at magnus, tail moving back and forth and making the building shake: who is next?

cue pandemonium in pandemonium

ty so much!

<3 lumine

-

Alec rolls his eyes from where he’s snacking on magically grown gooseberries, ignoring the battle that Magnus insisted on bringing him to.

It’s a silly little dispute but Magnus seemed hesitant to leave him behind and while Alec knows Magnus is more than competent, he also doesn’t like being left behind.

Which means that Alec gets to watch Magnus be pretty and use his magic to subdue everyone else. It’s the kind of entertainment he rarely ever enjoys and while it’s nothing truly spectacular, he does enjoy watching Magnus use magic.

It also means that when one of the idiotic warlocks messes up a spell — and an explosion of magic heads towards Magnus' only barely acceptably protected back — Alec steps in.  The last thing Magnus needs to worry about is his outfit being ruined when he’s always so generous with Alec. 

One moment a giant, writhing meteor of magic is about to clip his beloved hoard and the next, Alec snaps the defective, tasteless magic out of the air. It’s with a crunch of his jaws that he untangles the mass of energy and swallows. It barely warms his gullet and he licks his maw, tongue dripping with frozen venom as he turns to glare at the warlock who dared be so useless.

The battlefield is quiet around him, at least until the demons start to scream, fleeing from his very presence.  Alec sighs and rolls his eyes as he shifts to a smaller form. Magnus accepts him with a smirk, nothing but pride in his golden eyes as Alec wraps around his shoulders.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, remembering that I love this jacket.” Magnus croons and Alec nuzzles into his neck and cheek, pleased to be appreciated by his hoard.

—

The problem with Alexander being so protective is that Magnus is quickly running out of excuses for why he hasn’t introduced his dragon publicly, or at least to the Elders and other kings. Especially since Magnus is having trouble leaving Alexander home alone, even with the promise that his dragon isn't going anywhere.

It means that there are more and more confirmed sighting of Magnus and his boy out together. Which would be find, except Magnus isn’t convinced that he’ll be able to keep any meetings civil.

He also isn't sure if Alexander realizes he’s halfway towards being Magnus’ consort at this point and Magnus is carefully easing him into it. However when it’s official, the meetings will no longer be optional and Magnus will just have to hope that Alexander cares for him enough to not kill everyone who irks him.

It also means that Alexander is getting used to being out and about with Magnus, just without ever really being seen in his true form. 

Except for now, because his lovely dragon is fiercely protective and if Alexander so much as thinks Magnus has a potion burn, he’ll start snarling and digging through the healing cabinet.  

It means that while Magnus isn’t surprised at the scope of Alexander’s overreaction and protection, he’s still viciously gleeful of it.  No one other than Cat and Ragnor has ever tried to protect Magnus so swiftly or completely and Alexander doesn’t even have the bonds of their friendship to explain his intensity.

Magnus reaches up, summoning a galaxy pearl and offering it to his greedy boy without a second thought.

—

In the shadows, a warlock only two centuries old winces and steps further away from Bane and his… whatever he’s playing at with an actual dragon.  It was bad enough when the rumors began but it’s worse to see in person that they’re true.  To be faced with the evidence that Bane is treating the magical behemoth almost like a beloved pet. 

Elise opens her eagle eyes and watches them interact carefully, the way that the dragon so effortlessly changes sizes and she swallows harshly.  The only reason for a dragon to be able to shift so easily is either that they’ve mastered their draconic form or their power is immense. 

It’s with fear that Elise thinks both might be true and she bites her lip as she watches Bane summon a massive galaxy pearl. It’s with terror that she watches him offer the priceless treasure to the dragon curled around his neck and she stares as the dragon eats it.

No matter how important battle magic is, Elise no longer wants to be there.  She can learn other places, in fights where Bane and his dragon aren’t.  Because Bane was already one of the most dangerous kings and now, well, anyone who had a problem with Bane are about to regret it.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

I need more of the Steven Universe AU purely to see what everyone's fusions would be like. The triplet's fusion would be so freaking awesome, any of the sibling trio fusions would be a terrifying powerhouse, I want the sibling fusions, I need to know what the fusion of Luisa and Mirabel would be like, the fusion of Mirabel and Antonio would be so adorable, and I want to find out which Isabela fusion would be the most chaotic/destructive/unhinged, heck, give us the fusions of Alma with each of her kids and grandkids, it would be a great opportunity for visual representation of how her pressure and expectations negatively impact each of them. I bet it would take people a solid minute to realize Julieta and Mirabel had fused, Mirabel is so much her mama's clone you don't notice the difference unless you're paying close attention or know them really well. Please, PLEASE give us more, I even have ideas for the rest of the Madrigals gem types. Pedro would be another Diamond, if Alma's a Diamond then it would make the most sense if Pedro was one too, he's likely been shattered. Pyrope definitely fits Dolores and Camilo is absolutely an Orange Spinel, Antonio should be Tiger's Eye. I think Lapis Lazuli is best suited for Isabela, beautiful and upper class yet extremely powerful, and Mirabel could be a defective Bismuth that doesn't have the muscle of a normal Bismuth and can't build to save her life, expressing the natural creativity of her gem type through unconventional means and making up for her lack of brawn with brain

I’m so glad you’re enjoying this AU!

Firstly, I should say that not everyone fuses. I have to vaguely follow SU’s plot, but…

The triplets (or, well, mainly Pepa and Bruno) did secretly fuse when they were first made. They frequently caused chaos and got intro trouble, partially why it then became so taboo. It was already viewed as bad, but knowing what damage could be caused to the perfect empire… it became a lot more of a serious offence.

Some of the siblings/cousins haven’t fused together, so I’d need to know who you wanted to know about specifically.

And none of the parents have fused with the children.

Luisa and Mirabel are oddly enough quite like Sardonyx as a fusion. Luisa shares a lot of traits with both Garnet and Pearl, and then combined with Mirabel, I’d be lying if they weren’t oddly close to Sardonyx. In saying that, they could also be Garnet herself - a lot of Luisa and Mirabel’s interactions are akin to Ruby and Sapphire respectively. However, they are also very anxious together, so take that as you will for their fusion.

About the Madrigals’ gems, here is the updated list:

Antonio - Tiger’s Eye (I absolutely love this idea! It fits so well)

Isabela - no idea

Dolores - Rutile

Luisa - Amethyst

Camilo - Yellow Spinel

Mirabel - Sapphire

Julieta - Blue Diamond

Pepa - Orange Diamond

Bruno - Green Diamond

Alma - Pink Diamond

Pedro - Botswana Agate

I’ll happily give information for whatever people ask for!

[vigilskeep]

All your ocs are so fantastic im obessed! Youre especially good at mapping thematic flaws to balance you characters & make them compelling. Do you have any tips for creating multidimensional characters?

omg thank u!!! um some tips or at least some explanation of what i do. this is going to be pretty specific to making da ocs

1. don’t be afraid to give them a trait or have them make a choice that might make them controversial or unlikeable! i generally start with one or two strong character moves and that’s what i work back from to create the character. for my main warden, it was that she started out fairly loyal to the circle, she would eventually become a blood mage, and she would spare loghain. decisions like that avoid making a forgettable character just the same as everyone else’s, and figuring out sympathetic and realistic reasons for why characters would make those decisions usually turns up something super compelling

2. when you’re playing a quest or making a decision, think less abt what you would do or what’s objectively best and instead think: what’s my character’s frame of reference for this situation? your character’s background gives them a library of experiences to use to understand new situations. for a quick and simple example, my hawke’s entire raison d’être is protecting his family, especially his sister. so when npcs act in defence of their sisters—for example the elven brothers who defect to the qun at the end of act 2 to escape justice for taking revenge on their sister’s behalf, or the blood mage who tries to hunt the serial killer quentin because he killed his sister—he immediately relates and is 10x more likely to be on their side. equally, when he thinks characters haven’t fulfilled their responsibility to protect their family, especially mages in their family, he takes a particular and personal dislike to them. it’s the easiest way to make your character’s reactions and decisions feel very personal and character-building, and avoid quests feeling flat and unrelated to your character’s journey. and the games will actively try to give you these opportunities; there’s a reason i can think of a bunch of quests where sisters come up just off the top of my head

3. as an addition to the last point, try to work with what you’ve got and pick out some of the main themes of the game to centre your character’s main conflicts on. that way everything that happens is going to be about your character

4. pick at least one companion for them to not get along with, or at least have a da2 style grudgingly respectful rivalry with. unless it’s a distinct character trait of your protagonist to try very hard to get along with everybody—and that can work, especially if it’s sometimes a character flaw that they’re so willing to compromise and mediate—having opinions and disagreements humanises them. after all, there are no companions who get along with everybody or are universally liked and that’s on purpose: it makes them realistic. why should your protagonist be any different?

5. this is a pretty standardised writing tip these days but i can’t go without mentioning it. a well written character does not have one pile of good traits and one pile of bad traits to counter. a well written character has traits, which are good in some situations and bad in others. hmm what are some da examples that are easy to pin down. fenris and morrigan are wary: it has helped them survive years of being hunted in their lives as very visible outsiders, but it also keeps them from putting down roots and connecting to others, encourages their prejudices, and makes them dismiss as fools those who seem more trusting. velanna and leliana are defensive: it makes them fierce advocates of their beliefs and prevents them sacrificing who they are to get along with others, but it also means they are quick to judge, overreact to criticism, and are easy to rile up and make fun of. loghain and first enchanter irving are pragmatic: it makes them great tactical leaders, but also makes them willing to sacrifice principles and people. none of these are inherently bad qualities, it’s just part of who people are, and only circumstances—as well perhaps as their ability to recognise their own limitations—will determine whether or not it turns out well in a given situation

6. use this sparingly to make it work properly, but people aren’t completely cohesive and clear, and major out of character decisions—and what would push them to do something so out of character—can be as defining as their usual behaviour. for example, my warden begins her story as a circle mage generally compliant with/an apologist for the circle, deeply loyal to irving. the fact that despite this she loves jowan enough to still not betray him is one of the cornerstones of her character

7. if nobody could have a completely fair evidence-based reason to actively dislike your character then you probably need to go back to the drawing board

this got way longer than i thought it would. anyway that’s my process none of it is universally required but i hope it’s a helpful start. thanks for asking!

[thistlecatfics]

I am obviously going to ask for Narcissa in therapy?? Maybe either during the first war, at like the start of her marriage, or post second war?? Or at any point in her life really idc I just wanna see it happen

Narcissa in therapy!! 

Honestly I think the idea of her being in therapy during the first war would be kind of like the sopranos (a show I’ve never actually seen haha) where she’s actively involved in all of this illegal stuff but careful to never let the therapist have the obligation to break confidentiality. 

She’s going to therapy for support about fertility and her miscarriages because she’s still not pregnant, and it’s a huge amount of pressure. 

I could see her going for a super psychoanalytic therapist, which I’m extremely not an expert on, but it’s all about uncovering the unconscious with the aid of the analyst, but I don’t know enough to really mock up her therapeutic journey with one. 

(Why did I pick a type of presenting concern *and* a therapeutic modality I have no knowledge about??) 

(I don’t work with moms and motherhood!) 

I think in this case, as soon as she has Draco, she immediately drops therapy and is like “Everything is fine! I have no other problems!” 

Because that’s not the most interesting answer (and you’ve been waiting all this time!), let’s try post second war -

Her world has just been ROCKED. Let’s go with fanon where she is under house arrest, and Lucius is in Azkaban. She is not terribly repentant. She is angry that Draco is (very healthily!) pulling away from her. 

I could see her getting really depressed. She’s isolated. She just went through something super intense and now it’s a whole lot of nothing. I could see her shutting down pretty severely. 

(I know sometimes people write Narcissa as so powerful and capable and I think that’s true! But I think everyone has a breaking point, and she hits hers after the war, when all the deadly choices are over, and she just has to… live? Without anything that gave her life meaning?) 

I could see Draco forcing her to get a therapist (partly because she’s starting to treat him like her therapist, and he’s like “I 10000% cannot do that.”) The therapist comes to Malfoy Manor (obviously) and operates somewhat non-traditionally. I could see them walking and talking rather than sitting together, because there’s no privacy issue on a giant manor where she’s alone with her husband’s peacocks. 

The therapist would need to start with a lot of behavior stuff – “You’re going outside. You’re going to write letters. You’re going to invite people over. You’re going to clean. We’re going to do it together.” 

(I also see the unconditional positive regard being important here but also really hard. Who could this therapist possibly be if not someone who was impacted somehow by the war? Unless they hire someone from outside of England?)

Then, doing the trauma work. Oof. 

I could see her doing a long series of EMDR sessions with a few core beliefs with different roots – “I am alone” might be an obvious one to start with (and boy oh boy would it bring up some memories of Andromeda leaving!). “I am a bad person.” “I’m defective” (you know that beautiful exterior is compensating for some deep self-loathing.) “I’m trapped/I have no options” (connected both to Voldemort’s time in the manor and also her childhood.)  

Once the trust is built and she’s doing better, moving into a relational approach could be SO powerful but also so tricky. (“Narcissa, you know I’m a halfblood. When you say things like xyz, it actually impacts me.” Advanced level therapy stuff there!) 

Either way, I hope this therapist is getting a ton of supervision on this case. She’s going to need it! 

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Between Hope and Desperation bc i am a predictable bitch (but it's my birthday so i'm entitled xD)

BIRTHDAY FRIEND BIRTHDAY FRIEND ✨🎉✨🎉✨

For your birthday, you get almost 200 extra words than I usually give for these snippets 😂 I love you, and I hope you’re birthday is as wonderful as you are.

CW for self harm

“All this time, all those bloody lies, and you were just some merchling? Slumming it up for the thrill—?”

“Do I look thrilled?” He didn’t know where he found the energy to snap like he did, but Wylan couldn’t just sit there and take this. Not now, not from Jesper.

He was looking at him the way Wylan always feared he would if he knew the truth.

Merchling. He couldn’t live with it, knowing that was what the only man he’d ever loved thought of him. Even if it’s what he was.

“Nobody chooses the Barrel.” His hands were trembling, throat tight and dry. He fought to swallow around the cold lump lodged in his windpipe, and dug his burnt hand against the dirt floor of… wherever they were. The pain seemed to be the only thing that forced the words to come.

“Then how did you stumble your way down to us?”

“He tried to kill me.” In case you missed that— it’s the reason we’re here. He wanted to say something mean about head trauma, but held his tongue. Now that the important words were out, chilling the air between them, Wylan couldn’t seem to stop.

He’d never said it all out loud before.

“Part of me thinks he always wanted to kill me, but I know that’s not true. You can’t be disappointed in someone unless you were pinning your hopes on them at one point. Right?” He laughed, a little manic, but Jesper had gone silent and still.

Don’t look at me like that, he begged, I’m not a stranger. You know me! Better than anyone!

“I, um, you know— y’know I can’t read. And he tried— my father— he tried everything to get it to take. Tutors, treatments, therapies, b-beatings. He was desperate for me to learn. I was… I was desperate, too. But, I just… it’s not something I can do.”

He’d scraped his fingers raw. The dirt had gone muddy and hot with his blood.

“I ended up in the Barrel because he gave up on me. I was a, a defective attempt at an heir, and his new wife was pregnant. So, he… he told me he was sending me away, to a music school.” That was always the worst part, for some reason: the shame of hoping for that split second before everything went wrong. “He put me on a boat with two of his men, and…”

For a moment, he was certain he couldn’t breathe, that a broad hand was still crushing down on him. But, he managed the words.

That was when Jesper finally moved in his periphery. He’d long since been too cowardly to look up at him, but now, he couldn’t avoid it. Stretching to the very end of his chain, Jes scooped Wylan’s bloodied fingers into his palm, letting out a quiet curse. He held his wounded hand like a baby bird fallen from a nest, barely curling around the damage, but keeping them safe from more harm nonetheless.

He missed the sting of it immediately, but Sweet Ghezen, that callused, familiar warmth felt so good.

“I swam up the canal to the Barrel.” He finished in a whisper. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Jesper’s luminous eyes in the dark, to see his face. His bruised, beaten, beautiful face.

If you’d just died when you were supposed to, he wouldn’t be here.

“Wy?” Jesper finally breathed. “Wylan, please look at me.”

And Wylan had never considered himself particularly good at resisting. Especially not a request from Jesper Fahey.

He looked resolute— somehow older than Wylan had ever seen him. Stony.

“That man is a monster. And no matter how you made it to the Barrel, I… I’m so sorry.”

He wasn’t mad at him. He was mad for him. He was—

“The only person who’s going to die in this room is your miserable excuse for a father.”

He was holding his hand; he had blood slicked from his temple to his collar; and he was like some type avenging angel, staring Wylan in the face like he could will hope back into his heart.

And, if anyone could, it was him.

This is the first time I’ve ever written a Wylan Backstory Reveal™️, but I know how much you love them ❤️ and this story is so intense! I hope you like it 🎂 happy birthday, I love you, and thank you for playing my little game.

[orowyrm]

honestly, and i can truly say this with my chest now that i don’t work for the bastards anymore, but more people need to know that buying a hamster or a gecko from petco is synonymous with buying a puppy from a mill breeder. unless they’ve made a major u-turn in the months since i quit after years of refusing to change suppliers (spoiler: they haven’t) their animals are always gonna be sourced from breeders who don’t outcross their animals, breed them too young, send them out as young as legally possible, don’t do health checks or even monitor animals for disease before they’re shipped to the fucking store (we’ve had incredibly young mice show up with cataracts, visible and impairing birth defects, active neurological issues like spiraling or self injury, stuff you should be able to pick out IMMEDIATELY and cull. guinea pigs and hamsters were constantly arriving with ringworm and wet tail. reptiles would come right out the box with mites, stuck shed that led to amputated toes or feet due to lost circulation (in one case a panther chameleon lost an entire leg!!). we had fish that arrived with massive tumors on their face that obscured their mouths and made it impossible to eat, fish lice, ich, fungal infections, kinked spines, malfunctioning or thoroughly nonfunctional swim bladders, missing eyes, pretty much anything that could happen to an animal due to bad breeding showed up at my old location at least once. we kept insisting they stop sending us spider ball pythons because their neurological issues were so bad we had to have every single one euthed because it couldn’t eat or navigate without injuring itself. the result? they stopped individually labeling morphs and sent us ‘assorted fancy’ ball pythons instead. they didn’t remove the spider gene from their breeding stock. we started seeing BPs without visible spider morph traits that were corkscrewing and stargazing. our manager got fed up with taking our animals to the vet constantly and removed a bunch of shit from our planogram, but that didn’t stop them from sending animals we didn’t ask for.

the animals supplied to petco (i can’t speak for other chains, but i’d imagine this is par for the course elsewhere) are badly bred, overpriced, and not cared for properly in the stores BY DESIGN - i got written up multiple times for ‘breaking policy’ because i would give animals extra hides, proper substrates, extra enrichment, just to keep them from cowering in the fucking corner at all times. i was told by our district manager that “you’re treating these animals like they’re pets, and they’re not. they’re merchandise.” i tried to complain about this statement, but nobody gave a shit.

don’t buy animals from chain stores unless you know how to look for sick/injured/badly bred animals and are prepared to deal with the potential vet bills and even having to put the poor thing down. even if you are, like. i guess i can’t stop you? but i’m not sure why you’d do that.

and for the love of all that’s fucking holy, STOP PITY BUYING ANIMALS. stop buying sad, sick looking animals to ‘rescue’ them. i know it’s hard to see them suffer, but putting money in the company’s pocket will only encourage them to continue. these companies are well aware that pity buys are a big market, especially when it comes to small animals like bettas or other fish. if you feel strongly about how an animal is being treated, by all means make a stink about it, complain to corporate, bring it to the employees’ attention (although there won’t be much, if anything, they’ll be capable of doing about it, sadly), hell, post about it online or whatever, but don’t fucking buy the animal to make yourself feel better about “saving” it. if you wanna rescue an animal so badly, visit a shelter or look into rehoming or rehab programs. consider fostering. just…. stop giving these companies your money. they’re overcharging you for the absolute bottom of the barrel, and they’re outright refusing to change because people are still buying what they’re selling no matter what.

[talesfromtheenchantedforest]

the best 12th-century pickup lines I found in The Art of Courtly Love

(Negging) “Hey babe, how’s an angel like you still single? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, even if you are my distant social inferior.”

When the Divine Being made you there was nothing that He left undone. I know that there is no defect in your beauty, none in your good sense, none in you at all except, it seems to me, that you have enriched no one by your love. I marvel greatly that Love permits so beautiful and so sensible a woman to serve for long outside his camp. O if you should take service with Love, blessed above all others will that man be whom you shall crown with your Love! Now if I, by my merits, might be worthy of such an honor, no lover in the world could really be compared with me.”

“Look. Let’s be real, you’re going to do all, and I mean all, of the work, but, on the plus side, you will get to break me in like a new pair of boots.”

That is why I, a new recruit in Love’s service and awkward in love, ask you to be my teacher and to train me more fully by your instruction. For it will be considered greatly to your credit if by your good sense you make a trained soldier out of me who am now awkward and untaught. It is fitting that an awkward, untaught man should serve a lover by whose industry he may hide his heedless youth. (also): Besides, if I have any lack of judgment in love, I must necessarily seek the love a woman of great wisdom and worth so that my inexperience may thereby be remedied and I may learn all the desire of love. If an inexperienced man should ask for the love of an inexperienced woman, their love could not develop properly or long endure in the proper condition. For even though a favorable breeze springs up after a ship has been exposed to unfavorable conditions at sea and has been subjected to tempests, if a moderate gust strikes it, it will sink and go to the bottom unless it has a trained steersman and rowers. Both of your arguments are therefore silenced by the best of answers and can in no way oppose my proposal.

“I know what you need. You need a page or two of mansplaining.”

Woman: “Since you would rather have love denied you outright than be left in doubt by a ‘perhaps’, I shall try to humor you and I shall refuse to love you” Man: “I beg Your Prudence to inform me whether, in your heart, you are disposed to love anyone else.” Woman: “Neither the law of Love nor the custom of lovers requires me to inform you of the state of my heart. For even if I were inclined to love someone else, it would not be proper for you to ask or for me to tell you about it.” Man: “Then in the present case there is no help left for me but to argue with you at length and by discussing the matter find out whether or not it is proper for you to deny me your love if you haven’t given it to any other lover. Now I shall prove to you that you cannot properly deprive me of your love.”

“Marriage is a prison”

I admit it is true that your husband is a very worthy man and that he is more blest than any man in the world because he has been worthy to have the joy of embracing Your Highness. But I am greatly surprised that you wish to misapply the term “love” to the marital affections which husband and wife are expected to feel for each other after marriage, since everybody knows that love can have no place between husband and wife.

“Don’t hide your light under a bushel, babe, think of all the stupid quests you could be sending me on.”

Indeed I believe it is true that God has inclined all good men in this life to serve your desires and those of other ladies, and it seems to me that this is for the very clear reason that men cannot amount to anything or taste the fountain of goodness under the persuasion of ladies. But although all good things seem to proceed from women, and although God has given them a great privilege and we say that they are the cause and origin of everything good, still they are clearly under the necessity of so conducting themselves toward those who do good deeds that by their approval the good character of these men may seem in every respect to increase from strength to strength. For if their brightness were not to give light to anyone, it would be like a candle hidden under a bushel, whose beam is not able to drive away anybody’s darkness or shine to anybody’s profit.

“Love can’t be a sin, or else God wouldn’t have made it so fun”

I believe, however, that God cannot be seriously offended by love, for what is done under the compulsion of nature can be made clean by easy expiation. Besides, it does not seem at all proper to class as a sin the thing from which the highest good in this life takes its origin and without which no man in the world could be considered worthy of praise.

“Only idiot stupid men want to marry virgins, trust me, this affair will HELP you get married”

Your theory seems to lead to a particularly grave error when you especially condemn the love of maidens; countless ones of the very best character are said to have been in love as we find in the cases of Anfelis, and Iseult, and Blanchefleur, and many others. Unless a maiden strove to raise her reputation by the instigation of love, she would never deserve to have a praiseworthy husband, nor could she fully comprehend anything great. She cannot because of such conduct be hateful to a good husband, for a good husband always believes that he could never have found such a worthy wife if she had not learned the theory of love and carried out what it requires.

“HE’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU WELL OKAY MAYBE HE IS BUT PLEASE TOP ME INSTEAD OR AT THE VERY LEAST IN ADDITION”

But even if I did know surely that you were engaged to another man, and I thought he was not a fit match for you, if I could talk you out of such a match I would not feel that by doing so I was violating Love’s precepts, but rather that I was faithfully obeyed his mandates. For that precept of his that we are talking about speaks of people who are properly joined, and this adverb properly shows that it was put in very deliberately. For a woman is not properly joined in love when the character of the man is not as good as that of the woman or when the pure affection of the heart is not equal on both sides. Moreover, even if I did know well that you were properly joined in love, although it would not then be correct for me to ask for your love, since Love’s mandate forbids me to do that, I do think it would be proper for me to beg you to allow me to be well disposed toward you and for you to praise my praiseworthy deeds by accepting them and to set me right with a secret reproof if through thoughtlessness I go wrong in anything.

[indigopearl96]

I got bored soooo

Have some of my Headcanons for Moira from Overwatch!

☣️There’s some descriptions of violence but nothing graphic(I think)☣️

General Headcanons

Moira has some form of training. There’s no way in Hell Blackwatch would let their only healer depend on one item to defend herself with. While Biotic Grasp is a reliable way for her to defend herself, she’s not going to do as well if surrounded and/or on her own or against something like a tank (I may know this from experience playing OW-). So it’s not hard to believe that Moira has some basic training at least to ensure she isn’t vulnerable.

Moira has something going with her blue eye. In almost all of her skins, something is going on around her eye. The only ones that don’t have anything covering the eye or just have something going on with it are the Archive skins. Both, at most, cover her blue eye a bit but it’s still visible! I count these as canon as both are archive skins and the mini games are likely their way of canonically adding lore! So there is likely SOMETHING going on with her eye, my best guess is sensitivity and scarring she covers up, likely caused by her experiments. What experiments they could’ve been are hard to say.

Moira is TERRIFYING if you piss her off. There’s mad, and then there’s PISSED. Moira will usually have a stoic expression or a small smile but if you manage to make her mad, she will glare at you, be snippy and snaps at you more often. If you piss her off, she’s quiet. You’ll know that you pissed her off if you look at her and see her staring at you with wide eyes, as if you’re a prey. She’s glaring at you and never takes her eyes off of you. She’s silent and only stops staring if others are near. The experiments have affected her body enough that her being pissed seems to have a visual defect on her. Thankfully it’s surprisingly difficult TO piss her off but if you manage to do it, she’s figuring out how to make you suffer.

She’s a sadomasochist. She enjoys the more psychological and mental harm rather than physical. Watching someone’s mind break, shatter, and crumble satisfies and pleases her much more than watching someone writhe in physical pain. She actually find most physical harm inflicted onto others boring unless it’s done in a creative way. Her sadism is more known than her masochism as she rarely allows anyone to harm her. In terms of masochism, she enjoys being cut to the point she’s nearly bleeding out. It gives her a thrill, it excites her, she can go too far at times though. Her favorite form of masochism is being cut and possibly whipping but she’s too private for anyone to even think of the possibility.

She has siblings, however she keeps her family and childhood a secret. It’s not hard to find that information but she’s scarily protective over her siblings. No one has gotten close enough to figure out why she’s so protective.

She’s used to shenanigans because of her siblings, that doesn’t mean she likes them though. If she ever takes part, it’s either a very small contribution or can’t be traced back to her. She has to keep her more professional look after all.

She’s a patient person, it took weeks for Akande to figure out the progress of an experiment because she was going to experiment until she was done or she couldn’t continue. After that he made it clear that she had to give progress reports, she finds them a waste of time as she could’ve been experimenting instead of writing these reports but she reluctantly complies.

She genuinely loves insects—centipedes and spiders the most—and if she trusts you enough, she can and will go into a hyperfixated rant and ramble about the mentioned insect. If you manage to get into her room, you’ll find small bits of bug decor as well as her love for anime and manga.

She’s fluent in many languages. She always seems to know what someone’s saying regardless of the language spoken. It’s more of a question of what she doesn’t know now. She even knows and uses sign language! (Sombra has yet to find a language Moira doesn’t know well)

She actually listens to Sigma’s rambles and humors him, at first she would wonder and think about them but now she’s more annoyed by them with how often his thoughts wander from the subject to insanity.

She can be empathetic…she just doesn’t like or trust anyone enough to feel anything for them.

She genuinely believes she can improve and help others with her experiments and thinks if others let her, she could make many improvements to others. This may include the effects she and Reaper go through and what she has done to her rabbits.

She’s more sympathetic to animals than people and even then it’s usually the bare minimum. She can’t bring herself to euthanize the rabbits who can live the life of a pet so she often gives them up to owners if the changes left behind are minor. If the rabbits have gone through a major change, she keeps and takes care of them as she can’t bring herself to neglect them to death either. (She got attached to one and named it Rasputin as it nearly died twice but is still kicking. It’s a large rabbit with specks of white on its black fur, a mutation from her experiments.)

Moira has two phobias. Geese and Lightning/Thunder. Both are related to more traumatic events from her childhood that she’s kept quiet about. Both happened when she was a child and she’s been unable to work through them. She’s embarrassed of her phobias but thankfully she can hide them, mostly.

With Geese, she freezes and watches the animal. If it gets close, she’ll back away from it and avoid it. If it hisses and chases, it’s one of the few times you actually see her terrified and hear her scream. This does result in a panic attack if she’s been exposed to the animal for too long and she always ends up hiding in weird places that geese can’t get into. With lightning/thunder, she sort of just freezes and looks around. She’s more on edge and ends up hiding in small compact areas with headphones on to keep herself calm. No one has been able to figure out her trauma that triggered these phobias and why she hasn’t been to a therapist about them.

She likes to be annoying sometimes, especially if it’s payback for something.

I might add more later(maybe some nsfw headcanons), but this is what I got for now :p.

[myrrhmaidwrites]

18 for your things you said with a pairing of your choice, please and thanks! 🙂

Things you said when you were scared

I picked JDTZ for this, enjoy!

If I messed up anything related to the “sci” part of this fi, no I didn’t ;)

It’s—yeah.

Jamie checks the line of code again. He glances at the sample, then at Trevor’s protocols.

It’s definitely a defect.

Trevor isn’t supposed to be programmed for nearly that amount of physical touch—none of their droids are.

Checking? Fine. Butt pats in the locker room? For sure. But watching an entire movie pressed side to side, Trevor’s hand moving gently on the side of his neck?

Absolutely not.

Jamie flicks his screen off. He’ll deal with this another time.

Trevor wrings the problem out of him less than twenty-four hours later. They’re chilling on the couch and watching the Disney Mighty Ducks show, which Trevor has been begging Jamie to watch with him since he heard there was going to be a android on the show played by a real android actor.

Only, Jamie isn’t relaxing the way he normally does.

He adjusts the blanket for the fiftieth time that night. Before Jamie discovered the error, sitting next to Trevor was a surefire way to make him relax. Now—

“Jamie, what’s up?” Less than two minutes in and Trevor has him figured out. Trevor pauses the show and looks at him.

“It’s nothing. I just—it’s nothing. Let’s keep watching.”

“C’mon, talk to me. It’s what I’m here for,” he says, as though Jamie isn’t hyper aware of that at all times.

“I just—later. Later,” Jamie says.

Trevor hums and restarts the show.

“Wait.” The word bursts out of Jamie. Trevor hits pause again. “I’m worried. Yesterday Gibby said something to me and and I ended up looking at your code. And I think I saw—”

Jamie’s said something wrong. Trevor gets a scared, shifty look in his eye like a cornered creature.

“I just wanted to help, that’s all,” he finishes quietly.

Trevor draws himself up into a formal seated position, the way they always pose droids in shops. “If you’re going to reset me, you have to promise—”

“What? No. Reset you? Why would I want that?” Jamie’s face goes pale with horror.

“If you want to fix the change, you have to do a factory reset.”

“So it’s—hold on. It’s a change? Like, on purpose, not a glitch?”

Trevor gives him a look of disbelief. “Dude, did you look at the code?”

“Yeah. It’s part of the spatial awareness code.”

“No, dude. Well, yeah, but it’s part of my core code.”

“If it’s—then how did it get changed? You can’t…”

Trevor gives him another look. This look says that Jamie should know by now how much Trevor loves to make the impossible possible. “Maybe don’t finish that question unless you’re sure you want an answer.”

Jamie swallows, suddenly aware of how much trouble there would be if this got out. If Trevor got caught.

“Okay,” he says slowly, “but why?”

Trevor’s eyes dim. He glances back at the still-frozen TV screen. “Thought it would make you happy, Jim. If I could—if we could do those things.”

Jamie gives Trevor a long look, makes sure he understands Trevor’s meaning.

“Yeah,” he says. “It would.”

[acatalystrising]

During this lovely Boba Fett-Fest I mean October the amazing @ceapa-mica and I have been plotting a new Boba story…we both bonded over our love of Boba and have now joined forces! Since I’ve been neck-deep writing the final chapter of Consequences, OG Trilogy Boba is fresh on my mind, and there are a sad shortage of fics focusing on that era of his life. Sooo…we decided to share our own story!

So join us, if you dare, for an epic tale of revenge, loss, love, and rebirth in Second Chances!

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Trigger warnings: assassination attempt, death threats, cannon violence, injuries, side character deaths, angst, eventual smut

Series synopsis: Boba Fett gets tasked to assassinate an Imperial quarry for a fine amount of credits. But as it turns out, his target has a secret, one that drastically changes his plans. Little does Boba know this job will change his entire life - drawing him closer to his father than ever before.

Chapter One

Grand Moff Tarkin looked more like a skeleton than a person - at least Boba Fett had always thought so.

Even now, standing on a star destroyer that more accurately resembled a tomb, he felt nothing but cold emptiness exuding from the chambers within. But he wasn’t here to feel - he was here to get paid.

And Tarkin had yet to deliver.

Instead, he’d demanded to meet in a private room away from prying eyes and ears. Boba remained silent - bored. To think, this is what these high ruling types found to be clandestine. They grossly limited themselves, and that’s what made them so predictable. At least they were smart enough to pay well.

“I appreciate your time. This…subject is of a more…delicate matter.”

Tarkin turned to face him, stiff and rigid in his pristine uniform - one thin brow raised.

If he was waiting for a verbal response, he’d die standing here. Boba merely shifted his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his blaster tucked securely against his arm. For such a patient hunter, he had a surprisingly short amount of patience for stupid, arrogant people. Even if they happened to be a client.

“This is a matter of security, though I’m certain you’re already aware.” Tarkin folded his arms behind his back, and Boba idly thought that the man more resembled a toothpick than a human.

Oh, the things he did for money and a reputation.

“What’s the job?” He finally spoke, knowing the man would spend another ten minutes peacocking unless the conversation was steered in the right direction.

Tarkin blinked, and Boba smiled beneath his helmet. No matter how frequent the client, few people didn’t fear him. Even if they pretended they didn’t.

The man had the audacity to look around the small, whitewashed room, despite the fact that they were completely alone. The nerve of some people - to think they were oh so important. When he looked back at Boba, a new weariness had settled in his icy blue eyes.

“My granddaughter has always been…weak. The sympathetic sort, if you take my meaning.” Tarkin picked a piece of lint off his sleeve with a sigh as if he was only discussing afternoon tea. “She ran away a few months ago, and she knows valuable intel. I have sources indicating that she’s defected, and so far she has killed all the men I sent after her.”

“You want me to bring her back?“ Boba wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t an errand boy for anyone, especially not an Imperial fool.

“On the contrary. I want you to silence her.”

Boba’s brow lifted behind his helmet, but he said nothing. Tarkin regarded him evenly before turning and walking to the window, staring out at the space beyond.

“She is family, and I grieve for this loss. But it must be done for the good of the Empire.” He glanced at Boba over his shoulder, as if to gauge his thoughts. “I trust this won’t be too difficult a task? I will pay handsomely.”

“Pay me what you owe from the last job, then we’ll negotiate.” Boba didn’t move, he merely lowered his voice just enough to get his point across.

“Of course,” Tarkin dipped his head in acknowledgement, gesturing to a table at the side of the room with the flourish of a gloved hand. “All of your credits are there, of course. Additionally…a bonus, as a thank you for taking this job.”

“I don’t need your thanks. I need details.” Boba holstered his blaster, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Tell me everything about her. If I’m to hunt her down, tell me how she thinks.”

“I’ll tell you what I know, but this must remain between you and I. No one else will hear of this.” Tarkin’s expression turned harsh, but Boba merely watched him, unfazed. “Do I make myself clear?”

And so Boba Fett simply nodded.

“As you wish.”

Silence hovered between them, heavy and ominous. Boba made to move to break that silence, simply waiting. Tarkin cleared his throat before directing his gaze at Boba’s visor.

“She’s always been a very headstrong girl - quite opinionated, always causing a stir in the family. Before she left there was an…incident. Our fleet was attacked by rebels that led to an insignificant amount of casualties. But Kaia…she was inconsolable, yelled at me that it was my fault. I don’t even know what exactly she was referring to. I sent her to her quarters, and she deserted the same night. We found a TIE fighter missing the next morning, with several troopers down.” Tarkin shook his head, his facial expression remaining stoic. “I sent my best men after her, several hunters as well. They were all found dead.”

Ahh, so more family politics. Boba rolled his eyes but didn’t relay any of this to Tarkin. If it paid well, he’d get it done. In this line of work, one could only be so picky.

“Where was she last?” Boba slowly crossed his arms with a soft sigh.

Tracking an inexperienced Imperial woman who was most likely emotional and naïve? He’d be back within three days, at the most. Tarkin would have this little familial squabble fixed, and Boba would be able to move on to more…interesting work. But still…he’d give this his full attention. He’d make it quick, and then he’d be gone. Simple.

Tarkin lifted his datapad into his thin hands and turned on a holomap of the Galaxy, pointing at a region on the Outer Rim.

“We were able to track the TIE fighter to Nar Shaddaa, from there my people hunted her down for several weeks. From Nar Shaddaa to Teth, then to Tatooine and Savareen. Her trail disappeared until a week ago, when we got the intel that she has been seen fighting a bounty hunter on Wrea.” His brows furrowed, thin lips twisting into a distasteful frown. He placed a hand on his chin, peering at the map with a sigh. “With the proper amount of credits she could have traveled across the Galaxy by now…but these records indicate that she probably has just enough money for short travels, and there are only so many planets near Wrea she could have gone to. It shouldn’t be too difficult to track her down.”

“I’ll get it done.” Boba took the tracking fob Tarkin gave him, then turned on his heels and left without as much as a goodbye.

He didn’t owe anyone formalities, especially not an Imperial fool. He had a job to do.

-

Shimia was an insignificant planet - mainly covered by green plains and thick forests. The native species, the Pacithhip, lived in their tribes across the land, but it was otherwise uninhabited.

And that made it the perfect place for a bounty to hide.

Boba had to admit that the woman at least knew how to cover her trail. He’d found telltale signs of her route, of course, but the trace elements had been faint - things a lesser hunter would have overlooked. But he wasn’t a lesser hunter.

He tracked her much further into the forest then he’d expected an Imperial woman to traverse. He’d encountered his fair share, and wasn’t impressed. They’d all been so stiff, rigid…boring. At least this one was making things interesting. He hadn’t expected one of Tarkin’s lineage to know how to survive in this rugged terrain.

But people would often push their limits when desperate. Sometimes it made them careless. And sometimes it meant Boba actually had a worthy hunt.

A sharp, cutting wind whipped through the trees, and he looked up to the darkening sky with a small frown. A storm was building…he could feel it. His quarry would likely try to hide, and if not, she’d at least be slowed down by the weather. Easier to catch up to. He made his way up an incline, keeping an eye out for further signs of movement, knowing he couldn’t be too far behind her now.

The trees rocked in the gale, branches creaking, and Boba pressed on unfazed. He had plenty of experience tracking his quarry in terrible conditions, as if they thought that would save them. He crested a steep hill and looked down at the swath of land below, running a thermal scan. Nothing…yet. He dropped his rangefinder and scanned ahead, brow lifting when he noticed some small buildings in the distance.

He raised the rangefinder and made his way down the hill toward the clearing, keeping his thermal scanner on. He was close. He could feel it.

The moment he entered the clearing, he picked up a heat signature, and smiled wryly, more out of relief that this was almost over then any true source of humor.

Gotcha.

The huts were small, thatched things…barely big enough to hold a person. Whether they were abandoned homes or storage units of some kind, he didn’t know, and didn’t care. He wouldn’t be here long.

Rain began to fall, pattering on his helmet and beading on his beskar. He continued onward, even as the pattering shifted to a downpour, and noted that the heat signature was coming from the last hut to the left.

He knew at this point to not underestimate anyone. No matter who they were. He had no idea what this woman would do, backed into a corner - and if she really had killed every Imperial dog sent to kill her, he would approach with caution.

But when he stepped toward the hut, he heard a pained scream break the silence - the sound coming from within. He frowned, scanning for additional life sources, but still only saw one. Was she already hurt? Dying? Kriff, he had to hurry. He had to be the one to end her, because he wanted to be true to his word, regardless of the job.

And so he cleared the distance to the hut in three long strides, gloved hand pressing against the door and shoving it open, light flooding into the dark space within, reflecting in two wide, terrified, blue eyes.

[crossxxbones]

☠ main ☠ bio ☠ face ☠ muse ☠ wishlist ☠

about:

This is a sideblog, and I follow back from my main @grimmusings. Please direct IMs there, since it's easier for me to keep all my messages on one blog. It's also easier to start interactions with me there, where I regularly post open starters and meme prompts. For a full list of rules and verses, see my main. Honesty hour questions will largely be answered IC and treated as anonymous unless signed by a muse.

And now, some warnings! Brock is a villain, and I will be writing him as such. Even when he’s not actively being a villain, his interactions tend to be manipulative, abusive, and problematic af. This blog will feature content such as murder, torture, manipulation, gaslighting, abusive relationships, and some hit or miss loyalty to Hydra and/or Red Skull. If you’re not comfortable with those, that’s perfectly fine, but this isn’t the muse for you. I will check with you before anything major so we can better plot things out. Likewise, if you prefer to plot Brock’s death, I’m happy to work with you on that. Being a villain has consequences, but communication is key.

Please note that I do not write Hydra Trash Party, but I don't care if you choose to. I'm not into non-con, nor is Brock (for more on that, see my headcanons on Brock as a handler). However, my blogs are emphatically anti-censorship. If you don't understand the line between reality and fiction, we're not a good match.

default verses:

I’m happy to write Brock into AUs and fandom crossovers, but for ease, I typically write him in one of the following two verses.

mcu: An MCU-only verse where Brock joins the military at eighteen and works his way to Commander on a Navy SEALS team. He's in black ops when he's recruited by Hydra and sent to infiltrate SHIELD. I'm happy to pick up anywhere in this timeline, from his early days with SHIELD to his post-Hydra vengeance streak after Cap drops a building on him. If there's a redemption arc for Brock, it usually takes place in this verse.

616: A blend of MCU, comics, and headcanon where Crossbones was trained at Taskmaster's school for criminals before pledging loyalty to Red Skull during WWII, where he was given some version of the super soldier serum. He's fought for various organizations and villains over the decades before infiltrating SHIELD as a Hydra agent, where his timeline crosses over with the MCU. Brock is an unrepentant villain in this verse, and he's not interested in redemption.

verses by request only:

I'm happy to write these, but since they're more specific AUs, I don't default on them for asks/memes.

running on empty: Same beginning as 616, but where Brock defects from Hydra at some point well before Insight for various reasons. He spends decades living on the run and fighting back at Hydra, is recaptured and tortured (where he receives the extensive scarring he has in the MCU), and escapes again to continue the fight.

hydra!verse: Insight is successful, and Hydra is able to take out all or most of their targets at once. Brock is promoted, and Hydra is on the verge of world domination, with only a few rebels left to fight back.

hydra!world: Earth-85826, where fascist dictator Armin Zola rules the world with Hydra.

wanted connections:

This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I can roll with most muses as far as basic interactions. I’m happy to ship Brock with other Marvel characters and OCs/fandom crossovers based on chemistry, but unless they’re on my OTP list, they need plotting and interaction first. There is never any pressure to ship with me, even if they’re on my list.

OTPs: Sinthea Schmidt, Jack Rollins, Bucky Barnes NOTPs: Johann Schmidt, Alexander Pierce Other: Frank Castle, Billy Russo (AU where Brock is assigned to the Cerberus Squad), Negan Smith (he would totally join the Saviors in a TWD verse)

[clarawaking]

My Trans SuperPowers -- #2

A poem, dedicated to the celebration of being trans, and to the education of those who 'don't get it'

(lay this down to a sweet groove...)

* * * * *

I’d like to share a bit with you —  about my transition

To counter the spite for people who are in this position

Transphobes accuse this of being an arbitrary decision 

That we make to ally ourselves with leftist activism…

They have zero respect for the emotional precision

Of discovering your authenticity, and escaping your body-prison,

...

To be a trans person, is to belong to a tribe

Who find themselves always, on the outside

You hear the people joke, mock and deride

But you really fear the violence that follows from the jibes

Can you imagine your life if you always had to hide?

And hate?  Like….hate?  

Why do we get this hate?

Like we’re fucking-perverts-always-looking-for-new-ways-to-masturbate?

...

The anti-trans paranoiacs call us groomers & pedophiles 

But you ever wonder what on earth they’re teaching to their child?

“God is love” they preach, behind judgemental smiles

But He doesn’t make mistakes, the phobes say with confidence

Well then me being trans was EXACTLY God’s intent

My path in this life was to be born a girl

But to be thought of as a boy by the entire world

So my soul’s journey has been to uncover my Real Self

And if my body wasn’t designed to be accurate off the shelf

Then who the hell is anyone to question God’s decision?

To react to His creation with disgust and derision?

“But surgery is butchery!” they vociferate with gumption

But they’ll get eye glasses, or nose jobs, or take Viagara for their dick dysfunction

Anyway, I’ll defer to what Roger Waters said

“As I’ve always said, I prefer your lips red, 

Not what the Good Lord made

But what He intended!”

…

So let me tell you a bit about my own experience

Before you tell me your fear-based doubtful sentiments

Unless you think there’s something wrong with people who are different?

You don’t need to treat me like I’m sick, or weird or strange,

Just because my body’s undergoing a specific change

That hasn’t happened to you (…..yet!!!)

...

And by God don’t tell me therapy’s what I need

When it’s been years of exactly that, that finally helped me see

What I had been repressing for my entire life

What has lurked in my unconscious, & created all that strife, 

From the carved-up scars that were once left by my knife

To no doubt the fact things didn’t work out with people, like my wife

...

You know…just cuz you might not see the meaning in someone’s blahaj shark

Doesn’t make it any less meaningful than some belief in Noah’s ark

And what, should trans people spend their lives hiding in the dark?

Living lives of shame and loneliness and never feel the spark

of being loved for who they are, and opening their heart?

proudly moving in society, contributing their part?

...

And are we really so scary that you need to be protected?

Like if we piss in your washroom, you’re gonna get infected?

Or we’re sneaking a peak at your junk so that we can inspect it?

It’s trans people’s privacy that tends not to be respected….

Which is why we band together, cuz we know we’re not defective.

And we just want to be able to take a  pee….without vigilante bathroom detectives!

…..

In truth, being trans has already cost tons of sacrifice

But I am so goddamn thankful this was MY roll of the dice

Because it has softened me and deepened me in the most delightful ways

And I’ve found acceptance by friends, family, the allies and the gays

I’ve met courageous people whose eyes shine like sun rays

And a feeling of simple joy is what accompanies my days

Cuz being trans is like discovering that you have superpowers

I’m a fucking x-man (pun intended!), and I do not plan to cower

I know that in the future, I ain’t getting many flowers

It’s kinda like playing euchre, never getting any bauers

Future lovers or not I have Clara, and I guess that makes me now hers

And you find you can handle rejection, when your own self-love towers

My emotional struggles, I find Estrogen now cures

And my eyes, hot damn!!!, they have a new allure

And it’s fun to feel confident, but also play demure

...

It’s possible, and it’s fine, if you want to make some changes

Everybody does as their life flows and rearranges

But trans people are discovering just how wide that range is

And the haters & the intolerant are really, the only dangers

...

Heck, I’m learning to biohack this flesh vessel!

Cyproterone & Estradiol are my mortar & my pestle

Crushing masculinity, releasing femininity

If I add progesterone, it’d be the Holy Trinity

And if religion don’t agree with me, I’ve found my own Divinity

With joy, & love, euphoria, there ain’t no way a sin it be

And if I’m destined for damnation? Into infinity??

Then I say bring it, bitch, cuz that’s where all my friends’ll be.  

…

To me, being trans is beautiful, there’s nothing to be mourned

I don’t feel it like a death, I more feel like I’ve been reborn.

And, I cherish it. ❤️

[everyforkedroad]

Everything That's Wrong With You

Thank you so much for the kind reception to this mad little challenge I've undertaken. You are all lovely and sweet and I can't tell you what that means to me. I’m taking a last minute trip this weekend so no ficlets on Saturday or Sunday but I have something a bit longer planned for Monday. If you’d like to read on AO3, please click this link.

Everything That's Wrong With You

Contemporary AU

In which Damen and Laurent have a momentous conversation on a fire escape. At night. In the cold. Because Damen is a romantic sap like that.

**

“You can be hard to read, you know that?”

“I have been made aware of this, yes.”

“You also have a really difficult time trusting people.”

“As you have often reminded me.”

“You have a foul temper—”

“---Mmm mmm—”

“---And an even fouler mouth.”

“I’m rather proud of my foul mouth.”

“And last but not least, you can be stone-cold and standoffish on the best of days.”

“I'd like to think of it as my brand.”

“Laurent.”

The way Damen said Laurent’s name, a combination of humor, affection, and awe kept any other flippant comments from tumbling out of Laurent’s mouth. Damen often talked about stepping out of each other’s emotional comfort zone in their relationship. But this, letting Damen give voice to the things he most disliked about himself (except the foul mouth - he was quite proud of that), making himself this vulnerable, was less like stepping out of a safe zone and more like hurtling headlong into fire.

"Why did I ask you to do this, again?" Laurent asked. He was shivering. It was cold out here on a fire escape in the dead of winter, on a moonlit night under stars they couldn’t see. Of course, Damen would want to do it this way. 

"Because you wanted me to be 100% sure of what I was getting into."

“And after all that, you still think this is a good idea?”

"Yes."

Laurent gave him a withering look but Damen, as usual, was unmoved. Laurent said, "Okay, my turn. You snore."

"I do not."

“You use sex to express feelings when words would do just fine.”

“Aww, baby, you never complained before.”

“Stop distracting me,” Laurent snapped before he continued. “You see the world in black and white. Nuance is completely lost on you.”

“That’s why I have you. You’re the complex thinker in this operation.”

Laurent sighed. “And you are incapable of perceiving deception in others because you don’t have a treacherous bone in your body.”

“Now that, I’m proud of.”

Laurent shivered again and Damen stepped close to him, the buttons of his winter coat shiny under the moonlight as he unbuttoned them and tucked Laurent against his warmth, enclosing him in his pure body heat. Everything was cold, cold, cold, but here on the fire-escape, looking out over a shadowed patch of dried green the city liked to call a park, Laurent didn’t feel it. Damen was a furnace and, coiled as he was around him, Laurent would have been hard pressed to feel anything except the steady thrumming of his heart just beneath his scarf. It struck Laurent anew how unlikely they were as a pair, yet here they were on the cusp of something enormous, and Damen was determined to see this moment through to the very end.

“I forgot to say, you tend to get chatty when you’re nervous,” Damen’s voice rumbled against Laurent’s ear on Damen's chest.

“Another defect?” 

��My favorite one.” Damen smiled, his teeth bright against his nut-brown skin, and even brighter against the darkened sky. “I most definitely like you when you’re chatty.” Damen tucked a curl behind Laurent’s ear, smoothing his cool fingers down Laurent’s now flaming earlobe. “And you forcing me to list your defects won’t change my mind. You can say no, of course. Or tell me it’s too soon. I’ll be a little disappointed, but I won’t let it be the end of us, unless that’s something you really want. I really hope it’s not something you want.”

Laurent’s heart swooped low in his chest and he leaned back to glare at Damen with real irritation. “Have I ever given you a reason to think that being with someone other than you would be anything other than unequivocally inconceivable?”

“I love when you use big words. Now that’s on brand.”

“Shut-up.”

“Hello temper.”

The growl Laurent made deep in his throat provoked a fit of laughter from Damen loud enough to startle whatever poor stray animal was rummaging in the dumpster below. When Damen had exhausted his mirth, he squeezed Laurent flush against him.

“Even with everything you think is wrong with you, I still want you. I want it all - the good and the bad, the things you think are too ugly for others to see, the blind spots and the shame and the bad memories and your regrets. I want to gather them all up and tend to them, because they are a part of you.”

Laurent trembled in Damen’s cocoon of warmth. He sincerely believed he would never find this - someone who saw him for who he was, who saw all his negative traits, and still wanted to be with him. Even more remarkable was that there was not one defect in Damen - even his irritating, overconfident, swaggering approach to life - that Laurent wanted to do without. He wanted Damen exactly as he was also and he wanted him forever. 

“It’s the same for me,” Laurent said. “I didn’t know what that meant until I realized it had happened the same way for you.”

“So what do you say?” Damen said softly, his voice suddenly shy and so very vulnerable, Laurent felt the ache of it in his chest. “Want to do this? It’s okay if you —”

“Yes, for heaven’s sake,” he snapped softly, his tone lacking everything except fondness, “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”

“And that was the most romantic acceptance of a marriage proposal in the history of marriage proposals,” Damen grinned.

Laurent almost told him to shut up again but offered Damen his shaking hand so he could slide the ring on Laurent’s finger instead. The gold band was cool against his fingers, and a sob surged within him, a welling of emotion that he struggled to strap down, because this had never been in his life plan. Now, he had never wanted anything more.

“Your turn,” Damen said, offering the larger, matching band to Laurent. With still uncertain, stumbling fingers, Laurent slid the ring onto Damen’s finger as well. Two simple gold bands, now linked them together in the promise of this sacred vow. Laurent felt the weight of it as he clung to Damen’s hand, felt the immensity of it envelope them as Damen lowered his head to kiss him, lips soft and warm and so achingly sweet, Laurent could not stop a lone tear from streaming down his face.

Laurent made to wipe it away but Damen was there, sweeping it up with his thumb, holding salty wetness before bringing it to his lips, and licking it away, much to Laurent’s surprise. “Damen?”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I want these, too.”