#and quite frankly i do not have time to write that before unraveled. though i don’t think the plot would be altered too much with that

[aphelea]

idk if keeper is in the air this week or something but i suddenly have the desire to write kotlc fanfic again ???

[felikatze]

Ooo how was Silver Snow? Still have to play that one :0

okay so context is i started silver snow like. YEARS ago. two years, probably. got 3h burnout. only started playing it again for [extremely secret reasons i will reveal hopefully on the 27th otherwise please do strike me down. anyway.]

which means i played the back half of silver snow's part 2 with like, NO memory of what a slog part 1 was to replay. that is to say, with part 1 done by some... mysterious other being, who was me, once upon a time, it was great!

a lot of moments that were meant to be serious were just. so silly though. but i am NOT the first to say this. like. the magic missles. what else. hubert's posthumous "hey btw u still gotta kill these guys lol."

it's like this game FOR SURE needed another year in the oven cuz the ASSPULLS dear god. like. seteth knows the slitherers exist. at the very least, he knows that there are people who supported nemesis. so could he. i dunno. investigate those guys himself. esp when rhea actually comes back and the two start chatting w flayn and talk abt all this slitherer stuff it's INTERESTING that maybe they could unravel the mystery behind the greatest tragedy to befall them!!

that like, maybe seteth and rhea can find some closure in catching those who killed their family!! that'd be like, COOL, wouldn't it, if seteth, as deuteragonist of silver snow, and the whole church crew, could've, like, sensed that something is Off abt the imperial army, and. yknow. not. had hubert tell them.

WHATEVER. IT'S WHATEVER

i generally LIKED part 2 outside of the Magic Missle Cutscene which just made me laugh so fucking bad. i gotta admit rhea's last speech to byleth actually nearly made me cry cuz it just lays rhea bare and actually shows growth on her part. like in her captivity she very obviously had time to reflect and she at last sees her mother is never coming back, but, at the very least, all this struggle has brought her byleth, her dear child, and that alone makes it all worth it. she acknowledges byleth for who they are and she is so so proud of them. it made me tear up.

and then it's WAGRGRGRRG RHEA TURNS INTO A MONSTER NOW CUZ FUCK YOU WE NEEDED A FINAL BOSS!!!!!

i think the shadowdropped lore of "yah btw all high ranking church members get some of rhea's blood" is quite frankly REALLY GROSS? obviously it's just there so the final map has additional enemies, and is thus a consequence of the setup for the final boss also being a total asspull.

but it's. gross. for. yknow. "the lizard pope has a secret section of the church where she gives people her blood" is. DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN HERE???

also this totally dilutes that she saved jeralt's life with her blood because jeralt and rhea's relationship was obviously special and complicated compared to other church members and it gave him a unique perspectice on rhea and that HE had a crest of seiros was LORE IMPORTANT because it meant byleth had a higher chance to actually obtain sothis' power and now you're telling me that like, a whole map's worth of fuckers got the same deal for free? without the emotional baggage? hey, fuck you??

the last cutscene where rhea dies in byleth's arms and she's obviously confused and lost and dying so she calls byleth mother even after her whole speech abt byleth being byleth it. it got to me. that was actually good writing in that one.

gameplay wise it was. hm. well i certainly had fun but the final map was TOO LONG. like u need to take out EVERY white beast which means u need to circle the ENTIRE fucking map before u can even THINK abt fighting rhea. whereas in ch20 i just went "fuck this i'm killing edelgard rn" and then i could and i did.

god BLESS the fucking archer brigade (petra, ashe, and last minute addition underlevelled cyril with that one no crest legendary bow), for being the ABSOLUTE HARD CARRIES on this clusterfuck of a final map. combined they could defeat one white beast per turn with that sweet sweet EFFECTIVE DAMAGE.

i will take ashe to endgame every single fucking time and all tier list makers can eat my dust. does ur meta breaker have lockpick utility. no they dont. ashy-boy best boy i will take no arguments.

also who the fuck needs an actual tank when u have seteth. thanks seteth for insane bulk and rally def.

thank u lysithea for customary dark knight baja blasting. lysithea is always good.

ch21 was fucking Confusing bcuz i didnt know where i was supposed to actually go first and ch20 was "wow this is just the blue lions finale except WAYYYYY easier because edelgard cant snipe me."

other maps i do not remember probably because all of them were also on blue lions. i know the ailel map was and FUCK OFF JUDITH. GO AWAY.

the funniest fucking thing is how silver snow just SKIPS the battle of eagle and lion because you dont have any of the house leaders. it just skips over the dramatic midpoint that existed primarily for All of the marketing. seteth drops in. hi byleth. by the way. dimitir is dead. claude has retreated. the empire has taken heavy losses so we gotta warcrime them right this fucking moment. byleth are you in.

yeah sure thing seteth let's fucking roll. time for a false flag operation. hey what's that weird light in the sky it's -

YE OLDE MAGICAL MISSLE!!!!!

anyway yeah. three houses stays three houses. which is to say. a very mixed bag that under the line leaves me kind of ambivalent these days but i could say "yeah that was fun" again considering i have like. no memory of replaying white clouds outside of "oh yeah edelgard was there."

[lilxberry]

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy​

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao. 

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

_______________

You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

_______________

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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere​ 

[outarizaki]

Lovesick. — Levi Ackerman.

SYNOPSIS: In a world infested with mindless, horrendous human-chomping titans, you’d never expected that Levi taking care of you was how you’d go out.

WC: 2.3k

PAIRING: Levi Ackerman x Reader

GENRE: Fluff

A/N: this is my first time writing for levi/aot in general and just overall my first time in a long time from doing creative writing i hope you guys like it!

In truth, Winter has never been your most favorite time of the year.

After all, those delicious hot meals, thick blankets, and cozy naps by the fireplace always came with a price for you every single year, wherein the same chilly weather that granted you those several pleasures only betrayed you and bit you in the ass annually, reeling you in again and again for recurring nightmarish sicknesses.

For as long as you remember, you’ve never fared well with such drastic change in weather. Ever since you were a little girl, your fevers were sky high enough to make your mother lose at least a year off her life with every time they checked your temperature around the dreaded season.

Thus even now, as a distinguished and mighty cadet in the Scout Regiment, there you lay, thrashing in wrinkled sheets with a spiking fever of 103° Fahrenheit.

It was quite an unraveling series of events. Perhaps you should have let it be known much earlier to your squad and superiors.

Maybe they would have taken your sudden, voracious collapse against a blushing Jean in the mess hall a little less seriously.

You could still recall those same goofy shrieks of surprise from your squad members with a grin. The look on Connie’s face was absolutely priceless.

But as you stared up at the ceiling, sweat beading at your hairline and mouth clammy with dehydration, your mind could only render and wring out the possible reactions that could have emitted from your Captain Levi.

Ever since you joined the squad, you’d been naturally drawn and fond of him. His cold demeanor seemed to be just a thin layer between a complex personality, and as much as you hated to admit, you desperately, secretly wanted to claw underneath that sheen.

It started with one sleepless night in which you brought yourself to the kitchen to rid yourself of your heavy mind with a book, only to find your captain sitting idly with a cup of tea.

You remembered the first encounter, how you babbled apologies like some sort of nitwit and he scowled and waved you off, uttering an, “it’s not like I own the damn room, quit being an idiot and do what you need,” before you dejectedly nodded and took a seat with a book just some feet away from him.

The insomnia seemed to grow only more and more, and a few more awkward nightly greetings later, it became a routine. He slowly began to acknowledge you, humming short replies and holding small talks every now and then.

Then on the field and during training he mindlessly complimented you. In his own way, of course.

A grumble of, “you didn’t get killed,” or, “you didn’t look like complete shit out there,” were some hearty examples of that.

Time went on as you began to loosen up even more around the squad, shamelessly poking fun at your members and joking around with them constantly. Even berating the Captain every now and then with snarky remarks that earned hesitant chuckles and gasps from your team, and even sometimes, if you looked really closely, a smirk from the Captain himself.

So with your poor little heart, ready to yearn, there was a spark of fondness towards him. One you wish would smother before it fanned out even more.

Damn him.

You wondered what he had thought when he saw you faint atop of Jean, that poor boy. How ridiculous you must have looked. How humiliating it must have been.

“God, I could die,” you groan aloud and fling your body on your side, hands coming to grasp at the roots of your scalp.

“That is quite an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

That voice. Speak of the devil.

Instantly, you spring up to meet his gunmetal gaze, hissing at the speed that caused your brain to seemingly rattle in your head with fatigue.

He tsks his tongue, brows furrowing together in an unamused manner as he walks towards the table across your bed. You swallow gently, gaze averting to the tray he holds with a small teapot, one teacup, and liquid medicine. You grimace.

“Oi...” Levi begins without looking back at you. You look to his stature expectantly. “You look like shit,” he says, finally twisting his torso to lock with your gaze.

A breathy, sarcastic laugh escapes your lips.

“Gee, you have such a way with words, Captain Suave,” you croak out with a roll of your eyes before easing your posture, allowing yourself to slouch.

“Don’t call me that.”

With his back faced to you once more, Levi feigns an aggravated grumble, yet the ghost of a grin still resides on his face. You watch in silence as he begins to move around the things on the tray.

You take your time to drink in the sight. His raven undercut, bangs slightly covering his handsome face, his white button-up rolled up at the sleeves showing off his veiny forearms, his black pants and leather shoes, the look of faint concentration on his sculpted face as he pours the contents of the teapot into the cup... and God, his hands. So slender and delicate, his fingers nice and long and—

Shit. What are you doing?

You take a deep breath and compose yourself in time before he turns at you again, bored look on his face as he approaches you with a cup of tea and the tiny bottle of medicine.

“Never thought I’d have to babysit one of my most promising Cadets,” Levi drawls out, handing you the teacup. Your fingers graze against his as you accept it, breath hitching in your throat slightly.

You fight off the gooey feeling by occupying yourself with his crude words.

Scoffing, you take a small sip of your tea, only to frown at the feeling of hotness. Levi’s brow arches in question.

“Who said you had to, Captain?” You say softly. “You’re busy. Why didn’t you ask Sasha to come instead? She would have brought me some good food, too.”

“Stolen you food, you mean. And what? You don’t like my tea?” He husks out, to which you perk up in realization.

Quickly, you shake your head to deny his question. “The tea is lovely. But I’m pretty sure my body is hotter than that teapot, and quite frankly the warmth feels suffocating,” you preach.

“Plus, you’re busy. And I look — indecent. You said it yourself,” you whisper the last part shyly, gulping down another sip of tea.

Levi feels taken aback. Surely you hadn’t taken offense to his comment, right? Brat, he thinks to himself.

“Tea is good for when you’re sick. You’re nauseated. Did you expect us to give you some sweet or cold crap while you have a fever?” He says sharply, squinting slightly.

You chuckle a bit at that.

Waving your hand, you grumble. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you roll your eyes.

“Quit rolling your eyes at me.”

“Quit giving me a reason to.”

“Oh, you want me to give you a reason to roll your eyes back, Cadet?”

Your gaze widens and you feel yourself choke on your tea.

Your arm bolts to set your cup onto the nightstand and you glare up at him. You swear you see the faintest hint of amusement glint in those stupid grey eyes of his.

Suddenly, you’re feeling a little too hot. And you’re sure it’s not your fever.

Levi raises his brows, unimpressed as he leans forward. Slowly, he brings his hand to your forehead and presses his cold fingers against you. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, holding in your breath.

“You’re burning up.”

Wow, I wonder why.

“Yea? Tell me about it. I’m literally feeling all of it as we speak, old man.”

He clicks his tongue in irritation, straightening his back before jolting his arm at you with the bottle expectantly. “You’re better off holding your tongue, Cadet. Now take your medicine.”

Your face scrunches up. He narrows his eyes as you cross your arms and look elsewhere.

“L/N.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“No! It tastes gross.”

His eye twitches at your defiance.

“God, this is like talking to a little kid. Take it or I swear-“

“No.”

“Take the damn medicine. And that’s an order, Cadet.”

You look up at him with a scowl. Hesitantly, you take the bottle before unscrewing it, taking your sweet time until finally you down it reluctantly.

Meanwhile, your Captain stands with his arms crossed, albeit satisfied that you finally listened.

Once it goes down your throat, you gag slightly.

“God, this shit is vile-“

“Language.”

“It’s worse than what we usually take! What is this?”

“Higher grade medicine. I had to ask Erwin and a few of the nurses for even just that small dosage, you damn brat. I need you back on your feet ASAP.”

You blink. He went through trouble just to get you medicine? A fond grin starts to stretch on your lips.

“Thank y-“

“Don’t thank me. It’s my job to keep my Cadets at their best,” he practically half-lies through his teeth.

Oh. Right.

You nod, that fluttery feeling slightly dampening at his words. Of course. You’re just a young woman in his squad. His subordinate.

Levi notices. He doesn’t say anything.

“Now get some rest. I’ll clean up your room. It’s filth in here,” He scrunches his nose.

“Maybe ‘cause I’m sick, smarta- I mean, Captain,” you slur drowsily as you plop down onto the pillows. Whatever you took, it was strong.

The look on his face affirms he didn’t take lightly to your potential word vomit, though he allows to let it slide, much to your favor.

Levi groans, tidying up the teacups and the pile of clothes by the baskets, as well as the used bedsheets. He stops to think what in the hell he’s doing, going out of his way to care for one soldier.

He chalks it up to it simply being a better option than the inevitable mountains of paperwork he has to face later. That was it. Right?

A moderate amount of time had passed until he was satisfied with what he’d done. Levi’s eyes avert to your tiny figure on the bed. Laying flat on your back, arms sprawled beside your head, a dreamy smile on your lips.

The man walks up beside your bed. When you suddenly shift your head towards him, he startles a bit.

A breathy, twinkly giggle leaves your mouth as you look up at him. Levi swears he can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

You pout playfully, pointing an accusatory finger up at him. “Stalker. Are you here to watch me sleep?” You say almost so incoherently, Levi isn’t sure you’re speaking a language.

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at your change of demeanor. So out of character, even for you.

The pout on your lips soon curves into a sleepy grin of your own, and your eyes gloss over with something that makes your Captain’s breath hitch in his throat.

Such gentle, comforting fondness.

When you urge him to get closer, he obliges, slightly bending over your figure despite the rouge in his cheeks. Levi holds his breath as you reach up, fingers threading through his bangs to pull them back.

“You’re pretty when you smile, you know?” You whisper gently, the smile never fading from your obviously far-gone face. “Such a handsome boy.”

Heat rises even more to Levi’s face and he gulps thickly as he watches your arms begin to drop, eyelids following soon after.

A delighted, snoozing hum releases from your throat, and only then does Levi allow himself to breathe.

His eyes glance over you once more.

Soft cheeks, pretty eyes, long eyelashes. The tank top on your torso still allowing you to look like the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. The unruly bed-head hair that sat messily, yet still appearing soft to the touch, making him want to rake his fingers through. Your soft lips, still stuck in that smile. Your flushed face.

Levi sighs dreamily and defeatedly. He brings his hand up to pat at the top of your head.

“Shitty girl,” he says underneath his breath, voice cracking like that of a young boy with an unwavering crush. “You look — decent.”

His brows knit together even more as he thinks it over, finally sighing gently.

“You’re much prettier, Y/N,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

Levi then exits your room, his face still hot with fluster, hands shoved into his pockets, and the giddy feeling in his heart still reigning supreme.

And at the corner of the hall reside the Levi Squad members, spying from afar.

“You owe me your next lunch, Connie. I told you they liked each other!”

“Shut up before he hears you!” Jean scolds quietly.

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind them unexpectedly.

They all freeze. Their blood turns cold. Armin is sure he’s as good as dead.

“Give me fifty laps outside. All of you. Now.”

“Not bad after feeling shitty for so long,” Levi nods at you as you return from combat training for the day.

You smile brightly, eyes twinkling as you catch your breath.

“Mhm. All because of you. Thanks for-“

“Don’t thank me.”

“I said,” you say firmly. “Thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to.”

Levi can only sigh and nod. “Sure.”

You beam at that, beginning to stride past him, before stopping midway.

“Oh, and Captain?” You begin.

He grunts in response, slightly turning your way with that same stoic expression.

“For the record,” you hum sweetly. “I think you’re the prettiest.”

And with that you walk away with a proud smirk, leaving Humanity’s Strongest with a pounding heart and the reddest cheeks mankind has ever seen.

[doiefy]

paper stars // kim doyoung

genre: fluff pairing: doyoung x gn reader word count: 1.2k warnings: language, spoilers for at dawn (would recommend reading it first, or i’ll just tell you who the killers were hehe)

just a short, fluffy headcanon i couldn’t stop thinking about at 3 am, in which doyoung can’t do origami to save his life and reader is stressed for their life. thank you yves for the idea <33

@neonun-au​, as promised!! will also be working on a crack fic for the rest of the characters at some point :D

“You’re surprisingly really bad at this.”

Doyoung sits across from you, his face scrunched up in concentration, stormy eyes filled with nothing but determination as he watches the YouTube tutorial again. He holds the piece of red paper up, his gaze flitting between the origami star on screen and his own handiwork: a sad, unevenly-edged pentagon that folds in on itself when he tries to proceed to the next step. He lets out a frustrated groan, crumpling the paper into a little ball and flicking it off the table like it’s an insect intruding on your time together.

“This is impossible,” he grunts, spinning his chair around like a little kid. When he finally stops, it’s to stare begrudgingly at the jar of origami stars on your desk—a little keepsake of yours that Doyoung’s taken an interest in lately. Quite frankly though, his mission to fill up the last quarter of the jar with shiny stars has been miserable. Though bright-eyed and determined at the very beginning, his resolve is starting to crumble, evident in his failed attempts thrown all over your living room. It’s starting to get a bit ridiculous.

You push your work to the side, snatching the second piece of crumpled paper out of his hands before he can chuck it across the room. “So you’re telling me that you have six PhDs and can solve almost any homicide case in an hour, but you can’t do a kids’ arts and crafts project?”

Doyoung gawks at you. “First of all, I don’t have a PhD in paper crafts, and I don’t solve homicides by folding paper.” He reaches for his phone to rewind the video, then picks up a fresh strip of paper. “Second of all, kids?! A kids’ arts and crafts project? Origami was a prestigious ceremonial practice back in the day—”

“Yeah, and my seven-year-old niece can fold a better paper airplane than you. You’re like, ten times her age,” you joke. He gives you a wounded look from across the table.

“I’ll do it,” he murmurs beneath his breath as he loops the strip around his fingers. “I’ll get it eventually.”

You can’t help but giggle at the way his eyes take on a strenuousness you only ever see at work: the furrowing of his brow and steadiness of his hands whenever he’s deep in thought, trying to crack a case. But you suppose making paper stars is his case to crack tonight. The type of paper, how tightly he winds the strip, the crispness of the folds—he’s subconsciously turned the whole ordeal into an unsolvable mystery instead of just folding the damn paper.

“How are your revisions coming along?” Doyoung asks, and you look back down at your screen. The words of your report are starting to crawl off the screen, shifting in so many directions at once like they're trying to escape your eyes. You sigh.

“I hate going to hearings.” You rub at your eyes tiredly. “The evidence is solid, indisputable probably. But you know what defence attorneys are like. They'll probably pull something out of their asses tomorrow and I don’t know if I’ll be ready for that.”

“Who’s defending?”

You flip through your papers to check. “Byun Baekhyun. Some new guy… Park Chan-something.”

“Byun?” Doyoung questions with a raise of his brow, now setting down his origami to give you his full attention. “I thought he and Lee got into some serious trouble after Seo’s case?”

“That crafty little fucker never gives up,” you groan, and now it’s your turn to slump in your chair, defeated. “He got his name cleared in December and I’m gonna bet he has something up his sleeve for tomorrow. He always does.”

Doyoung reaches across the table to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. And when that doesn’t seem to alleviate any of your stress, he rolls his chair over to where you’re sitting, readjusts his glasses and leafs through a few of your papers. His arm comes around your waist when you drop your head onto his shoulder, and he pulls you a little closer to him while he reads.

“Taeyong’s getting what’s coming for him,” he says at last, gesturing at your carefully-prepared notes and the speech you’ve started typing out on your laptop; while you don’t intend on memorizing everything you’ll say, writing it down definitely helps. “Whether or not you’re confident in what happens tomorrow, they can’t let him walk. They won’t. Just give them your statement… and don’t overthink it.”

Still, despite his words of encouragement, you can manage only a sigh before curling up closer to him and burying your face in the soft fabric of his sweater. He smells like lemongrass and lavender, and a hint of the delicate floral notes you’ve learned are unique to the FVA house—they remind you of the candles in the room where you first met, the library you spend nearly all your time in whenever you visit, the shirts he occasionally allows you to steal from his wardrobe. And as comforting and grounding as it is, having him next to you, your skin is still crawling with anticipation for tomorrow.

Almost six months after Nakamoto Yuta’s arrest, the investigations at LTY have finally come to an end, and with enough to lock Taeyong away. If only it were as easy as throwing his pretentious ass into a prison cell and throwing the key into the Han River; if it were as easy as skipping testifying in court. Jaehyun will be suffering alongside you, but at least he’s good at public speaking. You, on the other hand, always feel like a hot mess of fumbling words and unsatisfactory arguments—contrary to the opinion of all your colleagues.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Doyoung says softly, pulling you away from your anxieties and back into his arms. “I’ve heard you speak at hearings, and you’re always much more well-spoken than you think. You were amazing at Yuta’s.”

“Gross. We don’t talk about him,” you grunt, making a face at your new coffee table. Doyoung gives a laugh, pressing his lips to your forehead in gentle apology.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I mean it, you were good.” He glances at his failed stars. “Some might even say… stellar.”

You flush with embarrassment and swat him away, pushing his chair back to the other end of the desk so you can get back to work without distraction. “Okay, back to your stupid stars. They’re not gonna fold themselves, you know.”

He throws one at you.

The next morning, you find a neatly-folded star in the pocket of your dress pants—perfectly puffed up, perfectly cornered, with a lopsided smiley face drawn on one side. There’s a small arrow drawn where one edge of the paper disappears into another. Confused, you unravel the star to find a quick message scribbled along the length of paper:

Be clear, concise. Relax. Don’t slouch.

“You ready?” At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you slip the paper away, accept the cup of coffee he offers you. Despite how early it is in the morning, he looks energized, determined. You focus on that, readying yourself with the words Doyoung left in your pocket and his encouragement the previous night. You nod, smiling.

“Yeah. Let's get this fucker.”

[barzzal]

hi! would you be willing to do a part 3 to the angsty dad! mat fic? i need a happy ending 🥺

read part one and part two here. also, i listened to gone gone gone by honne while writing 💞

theo’s laughter was all that you can hear as soon as you got out of your mom’s guest room.

it was over a week since you left mat. pretty much the same amount of time you have been dodging his calls. he tried coming over your workplace a couple of times but you managed to make your assistant turn him away. you were quite amazed that he’d even put an effort but you still needed time to think things through and so, you were thankful that your mom was kind enough to tell him you and theo weren’t in her house the first time he came over.

“good morning, mommy!” theo greets you enthusiastically with his mouth still full from taking a bite off his waffles. he effortlessly earns a smile from you as you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“no talking while you’re chewing your food, young man.” you tell him, your little boy willingly submits to what was asked of him. you kiss your mom on the cheeks who was already sipping her morning coffee across from your son on the breakfast table.

“good morning, sweetheart.” she says, greeting you with a smile.

“guess who has called me thrice so early in the morning?” your mother suggestively looks at you whilst she reads her morning paper.

you didn’t want to assume that it was who you were thinking of so you just shortly give her a shrug before grabbing the pot to transfer coffee into your work tumbler.

“if running away worked with your dad, i wouldn’t have ended up marrying him, y/n.” your mom subtly reminds you, carefully choosing the right words so the little one wouldn’t pick up on what the two of you were talking about.

theo has been asking a lot about mat since the first morning you’ve spent at your mom’s. he wasn’t really used to not seeing his dad everytime he wakes up or goes to sleep. and you know, that as a child yearning for his father, theo’s bound to realize what happened between the two of you any time soon.

“ma, dad’s different. he’s a good father.” you remind her. knowing your mom, however, you should have known that she’ll just be throwing the same rock at you.

“and so is yours. that man just needs a little nudge.” she says, giving theo a glass of water when he was done savoring his first meal for the day.

“theo, baby, could you get your school bag now? we’ll be going in a bit.” you politely ask him. your son eagerly nods as he zooms off towards the guest room where the two of you have been staying for the time being.

when theo was far enough from hearing the two most important women in his life (exactly how your son worded it last night), you sit across from your mom and took the shot of listening on what she has to say.

“you’re supposed to be partners, darling. i really don’t get why you choose to team up against each other when everyone knows you’re far better off together.”

“mom, it doesn’t work like that.” you tell her.

your mother was quick to raise a brow at what you’d just said, “tell me how it works then.”

you scratch your temple at the growing uneasiness beginning to creep up your spine under your mom’s heavy gaze.

“he’s... he’s no longer the man i married. he wasn’t like this. and i–” your mom immediately cuts you off with a scoff, “and you think you’re still the woman he married? sweetie, the reason why there’s an awful lot of failed marriages out there is because they fail to remember one salient thing about keeping one.”

you were quiet for a while. admittedly wanting to hear the rest of what your mom was going to say.

“and what is it?”

“it’s not gonna be easy.” she says, eyes darting on yours.

“it’s gonna be a mess. but you and mat? i know you’ll be able to make it work. anyway, if you really think you’re gonna end up on that road, then by all means, do it. if you can picture yourself raising theo without him, i’ll be with you every step of the way.” she stands when the doorbell rings, starting to make her way towards where your son was currently at.

“could you get that for me, sweetheart?” she says motioning towards the front door, already receding into the hallway.

you stand and head towards the door. you didn’t bother to look through the peep hole for you thought your mom was just getting her parcel.

but as soon as you opened the door, what you saw was an anxious mat, running his hands through his hair, the other fidgeting on his waist, and his back turned against you, desperately wishing to see his wife and his son.

you were stunned to see him. even though he was wearing decent clothes, you could already tell just by how deranged he looked, with heavy circles present underneath his eyes, and the fact that he looks tired, you realize that this whole thing might be taking a toll on him worse than you could even imagine.

“y/n.” a quiet whisper escapes his lips. obviously surprised you were the one to greet him by the door when he was actually hoping to talk to your mom.

“what are you doing here?” you ask him, voice dead and cold.

“y/n, please.” he pleads, contesting with himself because he didn’t want to push you further over the edge. he knew that you didn’t want to see him, and even if it kills him, knowing that his son was inside that house kills him a million times more.

“please talk to me.” you avert his gaze and shake your head no but just as you were about to close the door, your son walks out the room and sees mat at the end of the hallway.

as he meets his father’s eyes, a gleeful look was all that’s painted on his little face, “daddy!!!” he squeals, running past you and straight into mathew’s arms.

mat was already over the moon at the sight of his young man. your grip on the knob tightens as you try to keep yourself together upon the sight unravelling before you.

“daddy, where were you?” theo begins to cry, his arms almost choking mat for clinging onto him a little too tight.

mat looks at you for a moment, silently asking for your approval. when you only break off from his gaze, he takes it as a yes.

“i... i’m sorry but daddy had to sort out some things, buddy.” he says once theo’s small and tiny arms lets go of his hold.

“hey, don’t cry.” mathew hushes, wiping theo’s cheeks with the back of his hand. evidently shattered for having to see his son this way.

“are you going to leave again?” theo sniffs and innocently asks, unconciously hitting a sensitive nerve between you and mat.

mat looks at you for a moment for he didn’t know if he still has to leave nor was he still welcome to come back. he didn’t want to step in so abruptly because he knows it’ll just be all too overwhelming for you. and he couldn’t let himself cause you much pain than he already has. but he also couldn’t let theo hang by a thread just because the two of you couldn’t work things out together.

“no.” he finally says. “not anymore.”

he wishes that you caught on what he really meant. he was going to make up for all the shit you had to put up with him. you have given him a glimpse of what his life would be like without you in it. he just couldn’t stand a day without you and theo, and he knew that if he’d continue being short of the man you married, it wouldn’t take long before you finally realize that you and theo are better off without him in the picture.

you take your son’s hands away from him, reminding him that he still had a lot to go through.

“sweetie, come on, we’ll be late for school.” you say in a tone that even sounded differently in theo’s ears.

“can daddy come with us?” he asks you, shyly tugging onto your skirt.

you only give him a forced smile, ruffling his hair as you hold his hand firmly, “no, baby, he still has some things to work out.”

theo’s face drops at what you said, but even then he was quick to plaster a smile and look back at his father. “daddy, will you come to my play on saturday?” he asks, arms already clinging onto mat’s neck as fast as he broke off from your hold.

“you’re in a play?” mat’s eyes widen at the thought of seeing theo on a stage, making you roll your eyes, something that’s definitely reminded you of why you were in this situation in the first place.

theo wildly nods, making mat smile from one ear to the other. “i’ll be there.”

once theo lets go of mat’s arms, you take him by the hand and begin treading your way towards your car, leaving mat alone as he watch his life walk away from him for the second time.

𖥸

you were already running late for theo’s play and you still haven’t got a hold of mathew. it was bad enough that you actually hoped he’d try to at least make an effort but now you’ll have to put up with another disappointment when you tell your son his own father couldn’t be bothered to come for his play. 

did you honestly think he’d give a damn?

you have never walked this fast all your life. the only thing that was going on in your mind was the image of your son, alone and scared as he peek through the curtains, only to find neither of his parents present for his event. you can’t possibly do that to a three-year-old. 

but frankly, mathew can. 

“mrs. barzal!” theo’s teacher came running towards you, wearing her warm smile as usual. 

“hi. i’m sorry i’m a bit late, where is theo?” you ask her, still panting and catching for breath.

“oh, don’t worry! theo’s already at the backstage with your husband.” she says, motioning towards the wide doors.

you thought you just misheard her so you ask just to make sure, “excuse me? what do you mean—” 

“theo came in with his dad an hour ago, ma’am.” she says, the two of you making your way towards the backstage. 

once you’ve set foot in the dressing room, you see your boys too immersed as they go over theo’s lines. mat was practicing along, mouthing every line theo utters. 

“show’s in about five minutes.” theo’s teacher excuses herself and goes on to do a final check on the kid’s routine. 

as you take in the scene before you, you can’t help but stumble in your steps, overwhelmed that mat finally kept his word this time.

you clutched your purse close to your chest when theo caught a glimpse of you, enough to make mat turn his head towards where you were standing. 

“mommy! you’re late!” theo reprimands, making you laugh a little. 

you make your way towards them, crouching to meet your son at eye level, “i’m sorry.” you coo, admittedly in awe of your son’s attire and costume. you pepper theo’s cheeks with kisses as an attempt to make up for the time you’ve spent working away from him. mat quietly smiles as he watches you and theo so close, yet still so far before his eyes.

you watched mat go over theo’s lines for the last time before theo’s teacher called the kids to huddle them up to get the show started. soon, all the parents were ushered down the stage and into your respective seats. 

“hey.” mat takes your hand for a moment before following the rest of the parents exiting the backstage.

he sighs, a little uncertain and afraid of what you might tell him afterwards but he just couldn’t take another day without you or theo in his life. 

he wants you back.

he wants you home.

he wants you.

“i’ll be better.” he sincerely says, fighting the lump he’s beginning to feel in his throat upon remembering the nights he had to endure without you in his arms.

“i know.” you reply, smiling genuinely as you entwine your hand with his, this time, letting him know that you’ll never let go. 

[anidealiveson]

Thanksvember Master Post

Day 1 - Like Coming Home - It has a super rare “wholesome plot twist”! Without spoiling anything too huge, I really like that @julesherondalex took the time to talk about how important it is to take care of yourself first. You can’t love someone else properly, the way they deserve, if you don’t have that same love for yourself. I wasn’t expecting the heartbreaking scene, but the beautiful way in which that topic was was approached neither took away from the story or the joy.

Day 2 - Must Love Dogs - An incredibly fluffy (literally) fic that I loved reading. @rosehallshadowsinger did a really great job weaving Azriel and Elain’s canon personalities into this adorable AU scenario. It is obvious @rosehallshadowsinger took care to create believable personalities for two characters that didn’t get POVs in the books.

Day 3 - Striking Matches -  I have to say that I wasn’t at all attracted to an AU fic about firefighters. I was also not a big Rowaelin fan before that, but I was work procrastinating so I gave it a try. Wellll, 30 parts later, I found myself delighted at the writing and sad it was over. I couldn’t believe how well @shyvioletcat cat was able to entirely re-characterize these two into such a different setting, yet still retaining what made them popular in the books. Aelin was perfect in her role as a snarky schoolteacher irritating the stoic firefighter Rowan. And the descriptions of the kids lining up at the firehouse demonstration and Jake’s adorable prodding was icing on the cake.

Day 4 - Close Quarters -  I really loved the way @lady-therion wrote Nesta in this modern AU. I particularly like how she equates Nesta’s sometimes standoffish attitude as a very relatable personality trait. She has trouble reading people and gauging situations. It’s well written and the dialogue is unique for a plot that is common in ff!

Day 5 - Like A Lonely House - It’s got a colossal I love Lucy level misunderstanding mixed in with a lot of tension and angst. This Nesta that is full of sacrifice and duty and fire is how I imagine the Nesta who feels that she has a stake in the Fae world would be like. @featherymalignancy wove such a captivating new world in Macar, that it felt a lot like being introduced to the 8th court in the ACOTAR world.

Day 6 - Death Dance - There are several takes out there that touch on Nesta in the Ilyrian camps, but I love how @thewayshedreamed interpreted Nesta’s skills on the battlefield as a calculated dance. Nesta has always been a raging storm, but I love how @thewayshedreamed took care to show us a Nesta that channeled that storm into discipline. If SJM never intended to release a Nessian focused book, I would have considered this a satisfying end to their story.

Day 7 - One Night Standards - I love the way @sassyhobbits writes Aelin with her typical extremely sassy exterior, but also made sure to saddle her with a vulnerable side that runs deep. I normally don’t care for slow burns, but I like the pace of her relationship with Rowan here, and that they had to work hard at it. I also like the plot lines that involved their PR stunts and how the public grew to love them as well.

Day 8 - Goose Chasing - Its the most absurd plot of any fanfic I’ve read! The title is not figurative. Its really does involve chasing a goose. @rhysismydaddy did a fantastic job encapsulating the spirit of silly Cassian and grumpy Nesta in a situation they’d likely never find themselves in, yet making it entirely believable. 

Day 9 - Manon Chooses The Worst Babysitter Possible - It’s such a casual and fluffy and hilarious read. It was fun to read about a softer and more delicate Manon. Through this absurd mistake, @sarah-bae-maas did an excellent job really humanizing Manon and postulating a fun in-world domestic scenario. 

Day 10 - My Hunger Knows No Bounds -  @perseusannabeth manages to take a simple concept and weave a sweet narrative. I particularly love how @perseusannabeth incorporated her personal details into it and took the time to share her lovely culture with us.

Day 11 - Knowing me, Knowing you - We never got to actually see Aelin rule Terrasen (well we got a tinyyy bit) in the books. Though this was modern day, @nalgenewhore tells a fun story of what that could have been like.

Day 12 -  Forever (is a long time) - @noodlecatposts takes Elide and Lorcan’s completely polar opposite personalities and spins an interesting (and frankly quite adorable) story. All the rules crack me up. My favorite Lorcan is the one that reminds me of Luke Danes from Gilmore Girls. Currently, he is in the middle of grumpily fixing up her flooded room, so I am sure that my favorite parts are yet to come.

Day 13 - Go Your Own Way - I appreciate @tomtenadia for putting to words a scene that I desperately wanted in ACOWAR or even ACOFAS. A lovely parallel to an equally lovely Fleetwood mac song.

Day 14 - In Which She Makes A Friend - It is no surprise that the fandom wants Nesta to find her place in the Illyrian mountains and even bring about some social change with the female warriors. But the way @bookstantrash got there was such a wonderful and endearing journey. Big fan of the callbacks to how Kaelin was treated and the similarities to a certain Illyrian warrior was when he was younger. We got to see a sweet Nesta, who I’d like to think was attempting to make up for some of her regrets through taking care of Kaelin.

Day 15 - The Ranch - As a huge fan of Sweet Home Alabama, its should be no surprise that I loved this fic by @tacmc . I enjoyed the slow change that we saw in a stubborn Nesta as she opened up to this new way of life and reconnected with her sisters and found a home with Cassian.

Day 16 - Felons - Such a unique interpretation of Nesta and Cassian. I really like the self-sacrificing Nesta angle and @rhysismydaddy did a great job weaving intrigue into the unraveling of what we knew to be a her innocence. I never read The Witness, but this really made me want to.

Day 17 - Of Books and Timber - Cassian offers to build a shelf for Nesta. The way @duskandstarlight goes through the entire range of emotions through Nesta is brilliant. She starts out with cold indifference, but by the end, we get from her a sweet and tender gesture of gratitude. Showing that meeting each other halfway with small gestures is all they ever needed.

Day 18 - You Should Sleep In My Bed More Often - I absolutely loved this quick exchange between Nesta and Cassian after she accidentally injures him. I can’t believe how much I laughed out loud when Cassian said “I need you to protect me closer”. @charincharge​ perfectly captured the teasing childish essence of Cassian and Nesta’s hilarious victim-blaming was so on the nose that I might have thought this was taken right out of ACOSAF.

Day 19 - The Right Swipe - I really enjoyed this take on the inner circle mixed with the super modern online dating plot. I especially love that @redisriding created genuinely realistic characters (body issues, social anxiety etc). Great read!

Day 20 - Goldfish Prompt - What a fun read. I love how frantic and much personality Feyre had here. I love how dedicated to her fish she was, and how that made her super endearing. Cute read from @azrielsiphons

Day 21 - The One With The Snowstorm -  What I really like is that Cassian actually says that he is sorry for his part in Nesta’s exile. I am not bitter about it, but it was an interesting turn. They need to meet halfway here and I rarely see it so well written as @joysbell has done here!

Day 22 - Prompt - A lovely and cute and sweet prompt written by @crowsvalentine​! I love the ramp up of suspense just to get to the hilarious payoff. Its adorable and worth the quick read.

Day 23 - Fix It -  is one by @thewayshedreamed​ that I love in its simplicity. It’s a small little argument Cassian and Nesta get into, but its still compelling. It’s sweet and super endearing the way the two of them are written and the subtle way they work through it. Great read!

Day 24 - I Do Bad Things To You - The mob angle may have been done before, but I don’t think with as much care and regard that @tswaney17​ has been giving it. I how the canon personalities of the characters translate so well into this modern AU. Its very obvious that @tswaney17​ has done her research. I especially love all the details around Elain as a surgeon. The story is compelling and well written and every chapter has me wanting more.

Day 25 - Love Her Like She should Be Loved - This is an excellent fic that I really loved. @julemmaes did such a great job translating some of the canon tension from ACOFAS into a modern world. It’s ripe with emotion, drama and quite a bit of heart. I love how earnestly Cassian comes to Nesta’s defense even in the face of going against his entire family. I like the reference to some very real psychological struggles. I think a lot of people can relate to it.

Day 26 - Literally In Love - I really enjoy the subtle mystery that follows this entire journey. I enjoy that @julesherondalex keeps us guessing, while simultaneously weaving a sweet and tender story about two shy teachers and just a slew of mishaps worthy of a Shakespearian drama.

Day 27 - The Shadow Bond - I love Azriel, and this is such a wonderful fic by @radientwings​ focusing on how his shadows might work. His shadows are the one thing that I am most curious about him in the series, so it was lovely to read such a well written interpretation of them.

Day 28 - Exes and Oh’s - Just a shout out to @highqueenofelfhame​ for this lovely story about rekindling past love. I like that even though the plot was uncomplicated, the emotions were not. I love that Aelin didn’t have a perfect reason for what she did, but sometimes that is just how things are. This is a story about taking a second chance, whether it’s deserved or not.

Day 29 - Fever - I really love this fic called Fever. I enjoyed how @lady-therion​ portrayed Nesta. She hit the entire gammut of characteristics (snarky, worried, vulnerable, caring, short-tempered, flirty, you name it!) but it really worked here. I found this nurse Nesta to be endearing and relatable and the dynamic between her and Cassian was very sweet. Just go read the damned thing.

Day 30 - Baby Steps - I really really love this fic. @runesandfaes did such a great job in just so few words to show a really sweet moment between Chaol, Yrene and their daughter learning to walk. I love the parallel back to when Chaol was learning to walk and the cameo of the golden couch. So sweet.

[xxsdelphia]

transformers or critical role (or both)

from this post. transformers first, critical role under the cut, which will be super fun because i don’t remember much from the 20 episodes of campaign 2 i watched a year ago

transformers

blorbo: this one changes often since there’s so many. all-time favorite bot is jazz, he’s so likeable! tfa jazz is my favorite jazz since like other tfa bots his archetype’s traits are turned up to 11, so it makes him a really enjoyable guy to watch even if he doesn’t say a word. mtmte brainstorm might be my favorite tf ever, though, he’s so entertaining but there’s a lot of thought into him. he can truly do it all. i’d love to get inspiration for a brainstorm angst train one day, just as much as i want to write him getting overly excited about studying some geek organic shit

scrunkly: tfa optimus tfa optimus tfa optimus. holy SHIT tfa optimus. he is my son and my boyfriend and my beloved husband of millions of stellarcycles and my best friend and every day i wake up and think god fucking bless this timeline for giving us david kaye tfa oppy. i want to build him a giant basketball court

scrimblo bimblo: only the real ones know my girl quickshadow. honestly? probably? second favorite female transformer. quickshadow is soooo clean. she wasn’t my gay awakening, but she was damn close to it, i think the second moment of gay for me ever? the point is she is THE girlboss and i’d die for her any day of the week

glup shitto: oh you guys are gonna love the knights of unicron

poor little meow meow: TFA SENTINEL PRIME. he’s one of my favorite transformers characters and it’s exactly why everyone else hates him. did you know? i am one of the few people that follows #tfa sentinel prime. people tag him in content where they just need someone to be a dick, but it’s ooc and that makes me sad. i love him. if you would have him be a dick as he is in canon why not in an in-character way? i love him. he’s insufferable and horrible and, quite frankly, has no redeeming qualities, and isn’t that why he’s so perfect? i love him. he was the first canon tf i learned how to draw because i loved him, and if i made a mistake, then it wouldn’t even be an issue because he sucks so bad. when #revivetfa was a thing i remember people saying he would be a great trump allegory. he is actually the worst. i want nothing more than to sling him into the atmosphere and ride on his shoulder and teach him how to use a gps and learn about his trauma and fix him and make him worse and do nothing as i watch him go about his life taking notes the entire time, like a bug to study, like an alien to my planet, a speedrunner at AGDQ for thousands of people to watch live.

horse plinko: i had this fanfic that i never published nor finished about redeeming tfp starscream and i want to see him wrenched. i want to see him eviscerated. the fic had a bunch of It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better moments in it where i just kept letting him get injured, have trust issues, a memory of some of megatron’s abuse, i want to keep bending his little evil arm backwards against the joint until it dislodges and becomes good

eeby deeby: hm. strongarm and sideswipe. finally, a straight tf ship i could get behind and the writers did nothing. i love the rid2015 team but hate how little development they got, the writing was shit bro. i think it’d be especially fun to send sideswipe in alone in the elevator

critical role

blorbo: you guys ever watch brian david gilbert? the live brian david gilbert? when he was doing unraveled? the live unraveled show? the one where he went “TERRY! OH TEEERRR-RRRRERERERE, EE-EE-EE-EEEEEEE-EEEEYYYY” at the end? imagine that but instead of terry it’s caleb. that’s what my mind looks like whenever someone says campaign 2

scrunkly: kirkirikirkirkirkirkir kri!!! kiri baby! kiri so little and very sweet. the part when she (matt) perfectly imitated fjord (travis) fucking SENT me, i had to rewind so many times.

scrimblo bimblo: the weird sad albino looking carriage kid from the legend of vox machina. the one that drove the briarwoods around? it might just be because he reminds me of grave keeper identityfive but he had such a cool, distinct design, even if that mf got yeeted and skeeted so fast. i want good things for him! for him though. not society. whatever he decides to do with the good fortune in his life, that’s up to him. i will watch him fail and succeed and cause pain and heal.

glup shitto: pumat sol? pumat sol! he’s one of the few npcs i remember from the time i tried to eat through the actual podcast. comedy gold, funny guys pumal sol. hey, if anyone out there is writing a modern au crit role fanfic? pumat and the sols better be working at five guys together

poor little meow meow: the briarwoods did nothing wrong actually and i am also biromantic

horse plinko: ohhh percy. percy percy percy percy percy. percival. ohh i do not remember the last time i’ve wanted to see a character go so deep off the end. i want percy to snap. i want him deranged. i want him in a dragula cold open. i want him imprisoned. i want him to kill for the sake of blood, become a serial killer, and run from the fbi with the red still on his hands and against the gun. i want him to play town of salem. i want him to play among us. i want him broken and battered and shattered into a million little pieces of a man and with something very very very important missing from his brain. i would like to perform open heart surgery on him. i would like him to drop his ice cream. oh how deeply i want to break him, private tucker

eeby deeby: see above

[tsarisfanfiction]

Get Some Sleep, Scott

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Virgil, Scott, Gordon

Hi, yes, this is pure self-indulgent fluff born of me not getting enough sleep (oh, the irony - although I’m still not Scott-levels of bad).  Just a reminder that I can write soft squishy things and it doesn’t always involve someone getting hurt.  That said, I should probably throw out a warning for non-consensual drug use?  So there’s that.  Oops.

There was no cure for self-destructive idiocy, but Virgil still had a trick - or rather, a last resort - up his sleeve when Scott went too far.  It hadn’t failed him yet.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Virgil didn't like resorting to underhanded tactics but he was fairly certain Scott hadn't slept in more than fifty hours, and when he had it had only qualified as a cat nap. It neatly proved his point when Scott didn't bat an eyelid at the mug he placed by his hand on the desk, despite its contents looking nothing like the coffee he'd been subsisting on for the past twelve hours.

Muscle memory had his eldest brother reaching for it and taking a distracted swig of the drink. Virgil watched him make a face as something registered with him as not right, and the mug was rather judgementally deposited back on the desk. That didn't matter. He'd drunk enough.

The sleeping pill dissolved in the drink was potent and fast-acting. Virgil hovered close by as Scott's head nodded forwards before jerking back upright as he fought it. He wouldn't win. It wasn't the first time Virgil had had to resort to such drastic measures.

It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

Scott slumped backwards in the chair and he took that as his cue. The chair rolled back easily on its castors, pulling Scott away from the desk. There was an attempt to stop him but it was feeble.

 "Virgil," he complained.

 "You need to sleep, Scott," he rebuked, sliding his arms under his futilely protesting brother and hoisting him up. Scott wasn't the easiest man to carry, especially when he didn't want to be, but his exhausted body, combined with the sedative, couldn't escape. "Bed time."

 "It's the middle of the afternoon!"

 "I don't care." Virgil tightened his grip as he reached the stairs and Scott made another unsuccessful bid for freedom. "You're exhausted and need a good sleep."

 "You drugged me," Scott accused, face splitting into a yawn. Virgil was entirely unrepentant.

 "I wouldn't have had to if you'd just gone to bed after that last mission," he pointed out. "The reports can wait." He nudged Scott's door open with a foot and stride into the room. The bed was neatly made in a way that proved a lack of occupancy, and Virgil perched on it, kicking off his boots before shimmying further up.

Leaning back against the head of the bed, he refused to let go of his brother. Despite his verbal protests, Scott no longer had the physical strength to escape and Virgil cradled him on his lap.

 "This is unnecessary," Scott grumbled, his words punctuated by another yawn. Virgil put a hand on his head, coaxing it down into his shoulder and burying his fingers in gelled hair.

 "Sleep," he insisted. His fingers kept moving, massaging his brother's scalp soothingly, and he watched as reluctant blue eyes drifted shut. They didn't stay that way to begin with, snapping open with all the stubbornness Scott could muster, but Virgil knew how to be patient and waited him out. Eventually, the weight of Scott's head against his shoulder increased and his breathing deepened as the pills took hold.

Virgil's thighs were going numb from the weight of his brother, but he didn't move. Short of the emergency alarm going off, Scott would be dead to the world for several hours to come, and Virgil definitely had other things to do that didn't include holding his sleeping brother, but there was something reassuring about the steady exhales of air against his neck.

"You idiot," he muttered quietly, carding his fingertips through Scott's hair.  The strands were rigid from the amount of product his brother had slathered on the last time he'd been in his room and quite frankly, Virgil thought his brother's hair was in dire need of a wash.  Thankfully, he wouldn't need to nag about that one; when he woke up Scott would, at least, take care of his hair, if nothing else.

Reaching down, he folded one of Scott's ridiculously long legs until he could reach the shoe firmly settled on the attached foot.  Deft fingers plucked at the laces one-handedly, unravelling the knot before slipping the shoe off and leaving it to drop onto the floor.  He had just begun to repeat the process with the other leg when the door slid open.

"Thought I'd find you here," Gordon commented, barely pausing at the sight before striding into the room as though he owned it.  "Need a hand?"

"I got it," Virgil promised, fingertips snagging on the other laces and beginning to untangle them.  "Were you looking for me or Scott, because Scott's not available right now."

"Wasn't looking for either of you," his younger brother shrugged, clambering up onto the bed next to him.  "I was passing through the den and saw Scott was gone but the reports were still loaded and his coffee mug was filled with a drink that definitely wasn't coffee.  He reached drugging stage again?"

Scott always seemed to forget that little brothers were just as capable of worrying about him as he was about them, and that while Virgil was most vocal about it, the others played their part, too.  Gordon had seen the signs and for all that he was unsurprised to see Virgil in their brother's room, the middle brother was well aware that the blond was really there to check on Scott.

"Yeah," he confirmed, letting the other shoe drop from his fingers to the floor as he put his arm back around his sleeping brother.  "He didn't even notice the drink."

The hiss that escaped from between Gordon's teeth made it abundantly clear what the aquanaut thought of that, and Virgil agreed.  Scott had had a lifetime of running around after younger brothers with pranking streaks and had therefore developed an appropriate level of paranoia around things his brothers gave him out of the blue.  Not noticing Virgil giving him a drink, when it was far from the first time he'd slipped him sleeping pills in that exact fashion, spoke louder than any words.

"You grounding him?"

Virgil shrugged, looking down at where Scott's head rested against his shoulder.  He always looked the most peaceful when he'd been drugged, which Virgil found entirely unfair.  "Depends how long he sleeps for."  He shifted, legs thoroughly complaining about the weight on his lap.  "Speaking of, I should get him into bed now.  Give me a hand?"

He could do it himself, but Gordon was there and just as concerned about their self-destructive big brother.  Sure enough, the aquanaut nodded and slipped back off of the bed.  Shifting Scott to be more securely in his arms again, Virgil swung his legs around so that his feet were on the floor - and kicking the discarded shoes out of the way - before hauling himself upright.  His legs staggered a little as circulation restarted and a hand on his arm stabilised him.

"I'll get the covers," Gordon said, reaching forwards to yank the plain blue comforter back until enough of the sheets were visible for Scott to be laid down in all his long-legged entirety.  Virgil set him down without prompting, making sure his legs lay flat and his arms were settled comfortably by his sides.  Only once he was satisfied - yes, he was fussing and he knew it - did he step back to let Gordon pull the comforter back up.

Dextrous hands fluttered over the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkles and tucking the edge right up to Scott's chin with military precision.  For all that Gordon was loud, and selective about how well he cleaned up after himself, he could be startlingly neat when he wanted to.  Of course, he was also a little brother with a mischievous streak, and Virgil watched with amusement as he tucked all three edges draping over the side of the bed under the mattress, pulling the whole thing taut.

It would take Scott a couple of extra moments to get out of bed when he woke.  That didn't upset Virgil in the slightest.

There was no point sitting vigil over their brother.  Aside from the constant case of self-destructive idiocy, there was nothing wrong with him and he'd be fine once he woke up, refreshed and eager to jump straight back into work.  Virgil had learnt the hard way that hovering would do more harm than good - somehow, Scott always knew and fought to wake up a lot earlier if there was a brother in the room.

"Let's leave him to his beauty sleep," he said to Gordon, although his eyes never left Scott's face.  Despite the grey hairs, he looked much more his age when he was asleep, especially if it was a drugged one.  Sometimes Virgil almost forgot their eldest brother still wasn't thirty.

"I'll be out in a minute," Gordon replied, sidling himself back up onto the bed next to the pillow.  "Got to make sure he's not faking it and about to make a break for freedom as soon as you're gone."

They both knew he wasn't, but if Gordon wanted to stay with Scott for a few more minutes, Virgil wouldn't stop him.

"Don't bother him too much," was all he said in return, slipping his boots back on and hunting down Scott's shoes from wherever they'd gone when he'd kicked them.  Might as well leave the room neat for when Scott woke up.  He got grouchy otherwise.

"Do I ever?"  The cheeky smile was easily audible, even though Virgil wasn't looking at him.

"Always," he replied without missing a beat.  "Don't take too long."

There were other things to do that didn't include hovering over a sleeping Scott, and the longer it took him to leave, the harder it would be.  Virgil strode to the doorway, only letting himself look backwards once he was over the threshold.  Neatly and firmly tucked in by Gordon, and under the thrall of the sleeping pills, he hadn't moved at all - wouldn't for several hours - but it was his younger brother who caught his attention.

Completely ignoring the possibility of observers, or just not caring, Gordon was leaning back against the head of the bed, one hand stroking Scott's hair back from his face over and over, despite the gel still holding solid and rendering the action entirely unnecessary.  The usual mischief was gone from his face, leaving him looking down at their brother with nothing but love and a little bit of concern.

Maybe one day Scott would realise it was a two way street and that they worried about him, too.  All of them.  Virgil shook his head fondly and let the door close behind him.  Scott was in capable tentacles with Gordon; he'd let their squid brother have his own vigil in peace.

Still, he made a mental note to check back in in a few hours.  Just in case Scott needed rescuing.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Bathtub sex. That's it that's the request. (okay also let me tell you again how much I'm enjoying your writing. The latest one had me squealing at the sweetness of Sooga caring for his master but also... like, talk about depth when it comes to Kohga?? Of course he wants to be strong. And he IS strong, and it's hard to be vulnerable and... ahh you're so good at writing this sort of thing) So yeah, bathtub hanky-panky plz XD

Thank you for the kind words, really! Means so much to me! As for your request, you can ABSOLUTELY have some bathtub fun times! I’ve written them in the tub before, but I have NOT done hanky panky, and shame on me for that.

“I still can’t believe you let me do this.”

Kohga and Sooga were in Kohga’s bath, and both were in the middle of undoing their hair from their classic yiga styling. Kohga chuckled as he fluffed it up in his hands.

“What? Be in my bathroom?”

“Yes. Many of us find it a rather sacred place, and it means a lot, that you deem me worthy of this.”

“‘Worthy’ this and ‘worthy’ that with you. I like you, and you look good naked, it ain’t that deep.”

He held Sooga’s face in his hand, lightly squeezing his chin.

“BUT. It’s sweet, in a way, knowing it means something to you. It’s why I got you a little something.”

Kohga let go of his face, in order to dig into the cabinet. From it, he pulled out a yellow candle, giving it to Sooga.

“This is...for me?”

“Yeah, your favorite is those electric Safflina , right? Saw this candle at the market yesterday, figured you’d really like it.”

“Oh. That’s...very kind of you to remember. Thank you.”

“God you’re smiling that big, dumb smile of yours. Just light it and get in the tub with me.”

Kohga always waved off any sort of praise from Sooga like that. Such simple gestures were nothing to Kohga, but they were everything to Sooga. Sooga lit the candle (along with god knows how many others Kohga liked to have around), before joining him in the tub. There was something so indulgent about Kohga’s tub. Full of flowers, steam, and fragrances, it was like a spa. And what else did a spa have? A handsome guy there to give just the best spa treatment. Aka, Sooga, massaging his scalp in his favorite shampoo.

“Master Kohga, please stop squirming, you know it needs to sit for a moment.”

“Wouldn’t squirm if you’d stop touchin’ my damn ears!”

“...Your ears are cute, I never get to see them.”

Kohga grumbled something about Sooga being a sap, before he begrudgingly let Sooga continue. Sooga, ever since he was allowed in the bath, assumed full responsibility of making sure Kohga was clean. It was annoying, but it was cute, and less work on his end. Plus...it felt nice, having those big, nice hands roaming his frame. It was nice, how careful he was with him. And how there wasn’t a single spot he wouldn’t clean. From his back, to his arms...right to his legs. Kohga leaned up against Sooga, and stopped his hand as soon as it went between his legs. He didn’t wash there TOO much, for ‘honors sake’ as he put it, but why would he have Sooga half ass something with him? Just wasn’t right.

“You know Sooga, you really should take more care of me, if I let you do this.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying you need to really clean me here. If YOU’RE gonna do it, do it right.”

Kohga saw the wheels turning in his big, dumb head, and it took him SO long to process what he meant.

“Ah. I see. I suppose I have been slacking, Master Kohga. Please, do forgive me.”

He wrapped an arm around Kohga, before using his other hand to start to lightly stroke Master Kohga’s cock. He was always so slow at first. It was cute, but god dammit Kohga liked his shit right out of the gate. He was going to complain about it, before Sooga leaned down, and pressed his lips against Kohga’s, It was soft, smooth kiss, and it kinda made Kohga forget that Sooga’s hand could be going MUCH faster. Kohga chuckled once they parted, cupping the side of his face.

“Now THIS is way more like it. You know, I like a LOT of things about you, but my favorite thing has gotta be those hands of yours. Though, the hair is a damn close second.”

He wasn’t gonna be the only one getting something out of their little bathtime. He watched Sooga slightly melt as Kohga dug his fingers through his hair, giving it just an ever so slight pull. Sooga chuckled, clearly not expecting Kohga to get frisky in return.

“I like many things about you as well. Your way with words, your nice hair, your ever so skilled hands…”

Sooga’s thoughts drifted off as Kohga pulled him into another kiss, chuckling into it. Sooga lightly squeezed at his balls, before returning to stroking his nice, thick cock. It was borderline romantic, how he was treating Kohga. Not his usual cup of tea, but...Kohga liked Sooga. A lot. Kohga chuckled, lightly shaking his head as Sooga gave him such a loving set of puppy dog eyes.

“Ha. You love me. Idiot. You got the biggest, fattest crush on me.”

“I do, I really, really do.”

Sooga chuckled, quickening his pace on his hand just a little bit. He knew his Master liked it fast, but Sooga MUCH preferred it when they took things slow. It was cute, watching his Master slowly unravel in his hands. He pressed his lips against his bare shoulder, sighing at the soft, aromatic skin.

“Even eight pack Sidon?”

“I do like you. I like you so very much, I can’t imagine myself really liking anyone but you.”

“Even him.”

“Even the Goron Sweetheart, Daruk?”

“That’s you, Master Kohga.”

Kohga looked up at him, as if he was offended. So what if he was stroking his cock in a nice and hot bath? Didn’t mean he could talk shit.

“Excuse me, I can’t be the only one here who thinks Gorons are hot as hell.”

“You must be, because quite frankly, I don’t. Daruk is...sweet, and rather simple. Not my type.”

“It’s mine. Makes sense why I like you. Especially when you tie that with the pretty hair, I like the pretty hair.”

Sooga took his turn to huf, burying his face in the crook of his Master’s neck, speeding up his palm just a little.

“...who has the better hair?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting into a pissing contest with DARUK of all people.”

“I am not. It’s just a question.”

Kohga laughed, sort of finding it hard to think as Sooga’s hand was starting to speed up still. THIS was way more like it.

“Look, I like YOU, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t answer my question.”

“You jealous dog.”

Kohga chuckled, leaning up to peck at his neck. He sighed as he relaxed in Sooga’s arms, starting to feel that build up in his gut. He let Sooga look at him in eagerness, before he finally relented.

“You BOTH have pretty hair. But trust me, I like yours a lot better. He’s the sorta ‘dumb blonde’ type. While it’s cute, I like yours a lot better. Super soft and long. I like YOU a lot more, Sooga.”

“Good. While I have no qualms with you being in bed with others...I dislike the idea that you’d like them better than me.”

Jealous little Sooga, muttering his bitterness right into Kohga’s ear as his hand started to very quickly pump his cock, making him squirm in his grip. Kohga laughed, digging his fingers in his hair, and giving it a nice, good pull.

“It’s like food, Sooga. I like Tabantha bakes, but no way would I take them over my bananas. I don’t like anyone more than you.”

“I don’t know, I see how often you look at Rhoam’s rear end.”

“Listen, dude’s got some thunder cheeks, I can’t stop that.”

They both shared a snicker at that. While they were somewhat kidding, Kohga DID think Rhoam was such a dilf.

“You’re such a unique man, Master Kohga. I know I personally couldn’t love anyone more than you. No one. No one is prettier than you, no one is as sweet as you, no one plagues my thoughts like you do. There isn’t anyone in the world more hunky than you.”

Kohga didn’t need much else. Aside from the fact that his palm was working so fast against him, those sweet, honest words were enough to make Kohga cum, clinging onto Sooga’s arm as he did just that. He laid against Sooga as he sighed in relief, though it didn’t last long, given the fact that Sooga started to decorate his face in kisses. Kohga laughed, pushing his face away.

“Sooga come ON! You just made me cum, can you give me two seconds before you get all mushy gushy on me?”

“No. Because I love you so much, I want to be the only one in your thoughts. Not Daruk, not anyone.”

“Even Link?”

“...”

Sooga suddenly got out of the bath, covering himself in a towel. Kohga cocked his head from the tub.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a knight to neuter.”

“Sooga, come on, enough joking, that’s-wait why do you have your sword? Sooga? SOOGA NO-”

[actualbird]

nobody asked but pat gill is so fucking hot to me and im going to tell you why im attracted to him | a 2.3k word long post where i hold you, dear reader, hostage

[SCENE: You, the reader, are tied to a wooden chair in an empty room with nothing but a small table and a projector. You pull at the ropes that tie your hands together behind your back, but then the door opens and I stroll in. I am dressed in a full black suit and am also wearing shutter shades. I am also holding a powerpoint clicker. The fancy ones with a laser pointer in them. You shudder in contempt for you know that you are about to witness a horrible lecture.]

Hello, reader. I know you know why I’ve brought you here. I’m here to discuss something very important to you. Don’t look at me like that, it is important, I swear. I am here to tell you why I find Pat Gill hot.

[I switch on the projector. My presentation slides flash to life on the wall. Behind your back, you locate the feel around the knots tying your hands.]

This is not a presentation where I will convince you that Pat Gill is hot. No, I wouldn’t prescribe my tastes onto anybody, that’s not nice. What I will do is explain in horrid, vivid detail why I myself find Pat Gill hot. 

Like everything I do, I cannot dive in without first setting up some kind of framework or system of analysis. What I am trying to explain is how I find another person attractive, and that has thus pushed me to make the AHG Criteria, a criteria made up of the three principal characteristics of a human which makes me attracted to them and is also, coincidentally, the sound I make when I see images of Pat Gill. 

The AHG Criteria refers to the following:

Appearance: the most shallow but noticeable of characteristics. Here, I will explain just what it is about Pat Gill’s perceivable flesh prison that gets me so upset in an attracted manner.

Humor: I love a funny human and humor theory is one of my side interests. Here, I will dissect two specific instances of Pat Gill’s humor, bringing in references and related literature, in an effort to explain why his sense of humor is stellar.

Good at presenting things: I am very attracted to competence, but one skill I hold in very high regard is the skill of explaining and conveying information. Here, I will analyse Pat Gill as a communicator.

So let’s jump right into it. 

Pat Gill’s Appearance is, frankly, an anomaly to me. This is not to say that anything about his appearance is strange, but that, quite honestly, as handsome as he is, he’s basic. He is white, he is tall, he is thin, he has black hair and a slight beard (though currently he is sporting more of a moustache, which I’m still into). At first glance, one wouldn’t pay him much attention. I sure didn’t, until I watched more and more videos of him. I sure didn’t, until I realized.

His Appearance is basic, but his vibes, which I am including in the criteria of Appearance, bring his Appearance to life. Pat Gill looks a little unapproachable, with his resting sad face; but, when he smiles, he is so shameless and happy. Pat Gill looks like somebody you’d see leaning on a wall outside a bar, looking up at the sky, and you wonder just what he’s thinking about---wonder if you could get lost in his thoughts. Pat Gill looks like somebody friendly--- once his resting sad face gives way---somebody who would help you pick up your stuff when you bump into him and the contents of your bag spill out. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would use his goddamn turn signal. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would pet many dogs, as many dogs as he physically could. Pat Gill looks---

[As I prattle on, your fingers explore the knots behind your back. In your mind, you are mapping out the knot’s shape and orientation, thinking about how to undo them. When you tune back into my voice, the slide on the projector has changed and I have shifted topics.]

Let’s move onto the next criteria. Humor.

Paul McGhee in his book Humor: Its Origins and Development brings up Göran Nerhardt to define humor as “[...] a consequence of the discrepancy between two mental representations, one of which is an expectation and the other is some idea or percept” (McGhee 14). Nerhardt’s definition of humor is one that relies on incongruity: wherein there is an element that is not in accordance with the other elements. An incongruous element is one that is not the expectation, and in this subversion of expectation, humor is achieved. What is funny in a humorous situation, is then, what is unexpected to a certain degree. Humor, and the reaction to it, is due to the recognition of the incongruous. 

Despite this incongruity, there is still an internal logic to anything humorous. This internal logic is different for each humorous situation, and consists of everything within the situation; the set-up, punchline, characters, etc. It is this internal logic that allows for jokes to “make sense.” It is that internal logic that helps us get from one element to the incongruous element, realize their relationship, and thus find the whole thing funny.

Incongruity and internal logic are one of the many characteristics of humor, and they are the ones I will be focusing on. With those definitions in place, let’s talk about what you’re here for: Pat Gill.

Pat Gill is a funny guy. If I tried to analyse every single instance he was funny, I would never shut up. You wouldn’t want that, would you?

[You shake your head no. God, no.]

Right, so I’ll just be focusing on two instances of his humor that stuck out to me (originally, I wanted to discuss three, but then I saw that the length of this post was getting kilometric, so I cut it down to the essentials), these of which I think is a good marker for the kind of sense of humor he has.

The first one is my absolute favorite tweet of his:

This tweet is, at first glance, a lot. Pat Gill doesn’t wait for the punchline to be incongruous, he throws incongruity straight at our faces with the opening line, and one may think that that’s a bad move. Not necessarily. It’s just a ballsy one. It’s a move that doesn’t spoonfeed the audience with the internal logic, you have to work for it. As you read through the tweet, the internal logic starts to come through the incongruity. The literal dramatic situation of the tweet is a persona talking about the good state their nemesis is in. The language of the tweet keys us in to the kind of Medieval vibe, like a scheming duke in the hallways of a castle. The punchline comes after the last comma. The monolog of the nemesis’ good fortune will be interrupted by the persona’s attack on their life.

This tweet is an example of the bedrock of many of his jokes. He doesn’t give a damn if he makes sense or not. He will throw you into the deep end of the joke and it is up to you to tread the water. However, if you do manage to keep afloat, his internal logic will bring you to the punchline and, thus, satisfaction.

[Your fingers have been working on the knots steadily as I speak. You try your best not to react as you start to feel something give way, and you keep working quietly.]

The second instance of humor I want to discuss is the Solid Snake Skincare Routine dialog he wrote and performed with Brian in episode 8 of Gill and Gilbert. The full transcript is as follows:

Pat (as Solid Snake from Metal Gear Solid): Colonel, how do I know which moisturizer to buy, and how do I know it’ll match my skin type?

Brian (as Colonel from Metal Gear Solid): Unfortunately Snake, there’s no way to tell for sure. Certain retailers will offer samples, but in most cases, it’s up to you to purchase a product and try it out.

Pat: Sounds expensive.

Brian: It is, Snake. And the cost disproportionately affects women.

Pat: Women?

Brian: Societal norms in the west dictate that a woman’s value is tied to their appearance, and the thing every woman has…

Pat: Skin!

Brian: Right.

Pat: So, we expect women to attain a higher---So, we expect women---women, to attain perfect skin, and we also expect them to pay for it?

Brian: All while paying them less for doing the same jobs as men.

Pat: So Colonel, that means…

Brian: Yes, Snake. It is imperative that you give your money to women.

Pat: Right.

Like the tweet discussed before, Pat Gill shoves incongruity in your face immediately. Solid Snake, super cool spy dude (?? I don’t fuckin know anything about video games) talking about skincare. He expects you to keep up, and if you do, you are rewarded by a surreal yet lovely conversation between Snake and Colonel talking about the intricacies of skincare, but then things get really interesting. The topic shifts to the societal expectations of beauty and how it ties into womens’ experiences. This isn’t a grand woke moment or anything, but it is a surprising shift in subject that is perfectly in tune with the internal logic of the conversation. The punchline is amazing, giving all your money to women, yet it is also written in a way that does not imply that women are the butt of the joke. The butt of the joke here is the surreal vibe of the conversation as a whole.

This dialog builds upon the bedrock of Pat Gill’s humor: he isn’t afraid to go places. This is something that is apparent in many of the Unraveleds that he writes (Dark Souls Bosses is a very good example), he brings in real issues, makes the jokes funny, but never treats the marginalized or the victims of these issues as the butt of the joke. In Susan Purdie’s book The Mastery of Discourse, she remarks that to joke about a certain topic, to make something the “butt of the joke” can degrade this topic and bring it down lower, in the process shifting the power to the joker instead (Purdie 59). Pat Gill is aware of that power dynamic and never jokes at the expense of those who are struggling. He instead makes us laugh at characters, at situations, at surreality.

[The knots tying your hands are almost undone. You just need to bide your time. You’re so close to escaping from this thirsty pseudo intellectual motherfucker]

The last criteria I need to discuss with you is GreatAtPresentingThings. 

Pat Gill has done a lot of presenting. For this, I will be analyzing just one of the many videos where Pat Presents Things, my favorite among his “X is Y because of Z” videos, “Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the exact same thing.”

I’ve talked about this video in a previous long post analysis about Pat Gill, but let me talk about it again. Pat Gill, on camera, brings up an absolutely bonkers fucking thesis: that the horrible monsters in Bloodborne are similar to the Muppets because of how they use character design. 

Pat Gill, as a presenter, is very lovely to listen to. The cadence of his voice is not only extremely relaxing and makes me feel like a tranquilized zoo animal that Pat is talking to very gently about video games, but his voice is also very easy to follow. There are many voices on the internet, and I have a bunch of sensory issues, so a lot of the time, even when I want to listen to somebody, I just can’t because of how their voice grates at my ears. Pat Gill’s voice is not that. It is of a good speed and good vibe that not only puts me at ease but makes me want to listen.

Pat Gill uses gestures. This is most apparent in this video, where he does that cute thing when he says Shape, Movement, and Texture. Here are screenshots of it because it’s so fucking cute, what the fuck.

I know, I know, what do gestures have to do with presenting things? Well, if you told me “shape, movement, texture”, six minutes later, I wouldn’t fucking remember any of those. But with these gestures, those words do stick. When words stick, the explanations behind those words stick as well. When words and explanations stick in your mind, congratulations dude, you just learned something! Pat Gill when talking, and whether it is scripted like this or unintentional like a random gesticulation, the movement catches my attention and I become a more rapt listener.

Honestly, I could go on and on about Pat as a communicator and---

[Before I can speak, you bolt upwards from your chair, finally having gotten the ropes loose. Quickly, powerfully, you grab the projector from the table and smash it over my head. I stumble and fall to the ground, and you look down at me as your chest heaves.

As I slowly lose consciousness, you hear me say, softly, but with so much fervor:

“Pat…..Gill…..hot.”]

Thanks for reading! 

(Read my other unhinged analysis essays at actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/nobody-asked-but. If you have a suggestion for an unhinged analysis essay I can write, send me an ask!)

References:

McGhee, Paul E. Humor: Its Origin and Development, W.H. Freeman and Company, 1979, pp. 1-41.

Purdie, Susan. The Mastery of Discourse. Harvester Wheatsheaf. 1993.

[jawabear]

A Confession (”Pope” x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: This was another request. I’ll be honest, tis not my best work. I kind of rushed it and my head wasn't in the right place when I finishes it. but I hope you like it regardless, I enjoyed writing it, I’m just not a fan of how it turned out. Sorry for any mistakes :) Stay safe

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: fem!reader, Oscar Isaac, Mentions of blood, gun violence, hospitals, my poor understanding of the military, fluffy ending

Summary: It takes a horrible situation for the truth to finally come out

“Sargent Garcia” Pope immediately stood to attention when his general walking into his small sleeping room.

“Yes sir” he said in a steady voice.

“At ease soldier” his general told him, Pope let himself relax a little “here” he said handing him a file “a new assignment for you”

“A solo mission sir?” Pope asked as he flicked through the file he had been handed, reading through the mission description.

“No, a two man mission” his general confirmed “Sargent (L/N) will be joining you”

Santiago lifted his gaze to meet the cold stare of his general. Anyone but her. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the mission with her by his side, he would become too distracted by her beauty. And they’d probably get caught up in their flirtatious banter. “With all due respect sir I don’t think-“

“Are you questioning my choice Sargent?”

“N-no sir” Santiago shook his head.

“Good. You leave first thing tomorrow. 0300, don’t be late”

“Yes sir” Santiago saluted and watched his general leave his room “shit” he muttered to himself.

-

“I wasn’t prepared to argue with him Santiago” she protested as she loaded the ammo into the gun.

“Yeah, but, come on (Y/N). Me and you? On a mission? A little bit of a recipe for disaster don’t you think?” He chuckled slightly as he watched navigate her way through the vast room of weaponry available to the soldiers for missions. Licking his lips when her arms flexed as she pulled the sniper rifle to her eye line to look down the scope, measuring how good it would be for her.

Shit, what he wouldn’t give to have her look at him with the same precision she did her targets through the scope of that damn sniper. Adoring the way her finger delicately wrapped around the trigger of the weapon and how amazingly good she was at using it. He desperately wanted those fingers to be wrapped around something of his, he was boarded of his own.

“Are you saying you don’t like working with me Sargent Garcia?” She teased with a smirk. She had caught him staring at her with those dark eyes and it only caused her to tease him more, brushing up against his chest when she went to reach for a smaller hand gun that was located in front of him. It took every ounce of his being to not rest his hands on those luscious hips of hers.

He gulped and looked away from her, no amount of military training could’ve prepared him for insanely attractive and dangerous women that he would have to work with. “N-no, quite the opposite actually” he said “I do like working with you, think that’s that problem here. Things tend to get a little bit...loose when we work together?”

“Loose?” She questioned with a chuckle as she walked from him, loading up her pistol before slipping it into her belt, the sniper across her back “I assure you Sargent, this mission will be strictly business”

-

“I think that was the last of them” she said cautiously as she looked over the ridge where they were taking cover from the fire. “Mission success” she muttered to her self.

Santiago’s hand felt to his side when a sudden sharp pain shot through his chest. He felt a little lightheaded when he pulled it back seeing it was stained red with his blood “I’m hit” he panted as his gun fell from his hand and he fell to his knees.

“Shit” (Y/N) swore, swinging her gun to her back she rushed over to him, crouching in front of him “where?” She said calmly, her eyes scanning over his body.

He gathered up the fabric of his dirtied shirt and jacket to reveal a bullet wound to his right side. He saw a wave of panic wash over he face when her eyes landed on his wound. She had seen a lot of gunshot wounds, this one was pretty bad. She pushed him up to rest against a tree and pulled off her backpack, rummaging desperately through it to look for a medkit to use. “Did it go through?” He asked with bated breath.

“Looks like it” she told him as she unraveled a bandage and placing it over his wound. She took his hand and pressed it down onto his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “You’re going to be fine Santiago” she assured him softly. There was a part of her that knew if she didn’t get back soon, it could become fatal. But as long as he stayed awake and kept pressure on it, she hoped her words would be true.

“Thanks” he nodded to her.

“We got to get you back as soon as possible. I don’t think the bleeding is going to stop by just holding it. Do you think you can stand?” She asked as she put her backpack back across her shoulder.

He nodded “yeah” he spoke softly. She took his arms and helped him slowly to his feet and swung his arm around her shoulders. He grunted slightly, blood rushing to his head making him stumbled “s-sorry” he mumbled.

“Don’t be” she smiled softly “Make sure you keep pressure on it” she told him as she began to lead them both through the forest back to the car they came in.

Was was it always a jungle? She silently cursed the jungle for making it so hard for her to bring him back.

Finally she managed to track her way back to the car. She was thankful that they weren’t actually that far away from the military hospital but in a desperate time like it was, it seemed like it was on the other side of the planet.

She set him down in the passenger seat, watching as his face began to pale, his eyes struggling to stay open. “No no no” she told him, taking his face between her hands “come on Santiago, stay awake for me okay?” She began to run her thumbs over his skin in a comforting manner trying to her him to at least smile.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled her name “I need-“ he coughed dryly, his voice dying in his throat “to t-tell you something”

“Tell me when we get back” she told him sternly. She secured him in the seat and raced round to the driver seat and started the engine, tried too. Of course the car wouldn’t start right away, that would be too easy. “Come on you price of shit” she muttered harshly, turning the key over and over again.

“I might-might not m-make-“

“Don’t say that” she warned him, stopping him from finishing his words. Slapping the steering wheel when the engine finally came to life “you’re going to make it. You have to make it...because I need to tell you something too”

“(Y/N)” he muttered again “I’m blacking out here”

“No!” She yelled to him “stay awake! Just say awake Santiago. Just keep looking at me. Keep talking to me”

“Wh-what do you want me t-to s-say?” He stuttered with a cough.

“Anything. Just don’t close your eyes”

-

She practically kicked in the doors to the medical bay as she dragged his weak body into the hospital calling out for some sort of help.

A plethora of nurses came to her aid. She was told to follow them into a room. She did so, and placed him on the bed. “He was shot” she explained quickly “I-I tried my best to patch him up but..it looks pretty damn bad”

“We can deal with it” one of the nurses assured her. (Y/N) watched as the other nurses went about wiring him up to loads of different machines, pacing around the room looking for certain equipment to use to heal him “but we can’t have you in here”

“What?” (Y/N) protested “n-no I’m not leaving”

“I’m sorry Sargent, but you have to. We can’t work if you are in here”

(Y/N) looked over to Santiago’s unconscious body, now completely wired up “he’ll...he’ll be okay right?” She asked quietly.

“We will try our best to make sure he is” she told (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s eyes never left Santiago until she was pushed out of the room. Her bottom lip trembled. She knew it wasn’t good to think the worst, but seeing him in the state he was, she couldn’t help the fear sinking into her body that he might go.

-

(Y/N) hadn’t left the outside of the room since she had first set foot in the hospital. She could give her briefing to the general tomorrow. He was already informed of the casualty, the nurses were required to give over that information.

“Hey,” came a voice from beside her. She lifted her head to see it was Frankie, wearing a soft smile.

“H-Hey” she said, sitting up fully. He took the seat next to her, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. “Sorry I didn’t come and see you guys when we got back” she muttered to him “I just...didn’t want to leave him”

“Ah, it’s okay” he shrugged off her apology “we’ve all been here”

“It should’ve been me that got shot...not him...”

“A natural feeling” he told her “but what good would that have done? If it were you in there, then Pope would be sat out here blaming himself for not looking out for you. We all would”

“Where are the other?”

“They’ll be over later. Thought maybe we should give you some time. Plus the others are pretty shit when it comes to comforting someone. Not that I’m any better”

She let out a soft chuckle at his words “you’re all great at it”

“You’re the best though. Thought Benny was going to rampage round the hospital when Ironhead got shot last year” he laughed “but you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. These things happen. Quite frankly, if we don’t get shot at, we’re not doing our job right”

“I guess. Still...if he were to go..I would feel it was on me” she admitted “and...I’d have to live with the fact that I...never told him how I feel”

“You still haven’t told him?” She shook her head to him “you should. Especially now”

“I know...I will...try to at least” she gave him a gentle smile and he patted her thighs gently before the door to Santiago’s hospital room opened and a nurse walked out.

Frankie and (Y/N) stood, looking hopefully at the nurse “is he okay?” She immediately questioned.

“He’s going to be okay. He’ll be out of duty for about a week but after that he’ll be good to go” The two let out sighs of relief at the news “he’s asleep at the moment, but you’re welcome to go in and sit with him.

“Thank you” (Y/N) thanked the nurse before she walked away.

“You go on in. I’ll come back a little bit later with the guys” Frankie nodded to her.

“Are you sure?” (Y/N) asked him.

“Yeah. Go ahead” he smiled. She nodded and stepped into his room. It was a little cold in there but he looked pretty warm, covered in blankets.

The painful beeping of the heart monitor was pretty much the only sound in there, aside from his steady breathing. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wen to sit in the chair beside him.

“You’re okay” she whispered, more as assurance to her then to him “you’re okay”

-

The first thing he heard was the sound of steady beeping. A sound he was used to hearing. Standing beside the bed of his wounded friends. But this time the beeping was in rhythm with him.

He rolled his head to the side, opening his eyes and seeing her sad beside him, her head lowered “(Y-Y/N)...” he muttered. Her head lifted immediately and she gave him a gentle smile.

“Hey,” she said softly reaching over to grab his cold hand “how you feeling?”

“Fantastic” he grumbled sarcastically, managing a soft smile as he squeezed her hand. “Thanks for saving me” he told her.

“Don’t mention it” she waved it off “if I didn’t I know the guys wouldn’t ever let me live it down if I let anything happen to you. And my life would be pretty boring with out you” she shrugged.

“Yeah, I bet it would” he laughed slightly. It turned into a cough. She quickly grabbed a cup of water that was beside her, offering it to him but he waved it off. “Listen...” he said quietly “when we were out there...I told you...I needed to tell you something”

“Yeah. And I need to tell you something”

“I’ll go first” he said. She nodded “I um...” he paused, just staring into her eyes for a moment, trying to piece together a confession that would make him worthy of her affection “god this is fucking hard” he said to himself as he rubbed his hand over his face “fuck-I really like you. I think you’re great and I’m always so distracted by you because your so god damn beautiful and all I want to do it take you. Make you mine, just make love to you. And today...you fucking saved my life again. And I just...Yeah..I just really like you”

She shifted closer to him and brought his hand up to her lips, placing a gently kiss to his knuckles. “I really like you too Santiago. It’s not like I try to hide it” she laughed “with the teasing and all...but I’ve never been good with words and...well I didn’t think you would want to date someone in this job. Especially someone who is in the same position. With the fear of losing them...but I like you too. That’s what I wanted to tell you. And it fucking scared my today, thinking that I could lose you without telling you how I feel...losing my best friend...”

“I-I didn’t mean to scare you (Y/N)”

“I know” she nodded placing another kiss to his hand “I know you didn’t”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly.

She smiled “I’ll kiss you” and that’s what she did. Leaning down, pressing her lips to his. The best feeling erupted inside them. A fire raged within them. A weight was lifted off their shoulders, now knowing that they had each other. They were free to be with each other.

“Are we interrupting something?” Will asked from the foot of his hospital bed. The two pulled away from each other to see the four others standing there with smug smirks on their faces.

“It’s about time you two ended up together” Frankie chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How are you feeling Pope?” Tom asked.

“Much better now” he smiled to her. 

Masterlist

04/06/20

[allycatthebadboycappp]

books i read in april

hello.

hi.

i like to read. and this year it became somewhat of a goal of mine to make reading a habit. not because it was some new year’s resolution, no, it just happened upon one morning when i woke up and legit said “i need to read more” — i may have also gotten caught up in booktube (what a fun niche).

and even though i’m a bit late for april i still want to share the books i read in april and what i thought of them (cause.. you know.. my opinion is so important). i also created some book covers (some better than others — quite frankly, i got lazy).

1, the sorrows of young werther by johann wolfgang von goethe

my take: i should let you know i’m biased, since i spent the last 10 years calling the sorrows of young werther my favourite… and i still do. i’ve read it for the third time in full now and before that i used to read single letters of this collection. and. i. love. it. goethe is romantic, philosophical and depressed and it shows through his work. every chapter (or letter — yes, this is a story told through letters) is like a painting, you can visualise it as easily as breathing. actually, you can breathe in this novel and it’ll make you feel like you forgot how to breathe for a second. it will sit in your lungs and live there while you think about this absolute masterpiece (and i do enjoy it when a book makes you think about it).

should i read it? yes… if you can openly talk about and discuss suicide and its many viewpoints. you’ll also need to get along with a lot of  “oh my’s” and the feeling thereof. basically, if you’re a romantic, philosophical and depressed fool like goethe and like me, YES.

rating: 5 kittens

2, snow white and rose red, a matthew hope novel by ed mcbain

my take: a little info beforehand; i picked it up at the vintage section of strand bookstore in new york for a dollar purely for the title. i finally read it while i was waiting on some new books and was pleasantly surprised to find it was a crime novel with a hitchcock twist. i like the characters and even though it’s apparently part of a series you can read it without having read the others. essentially, you follow matthew hope as he finds himself entangled with a girl in white he is to have released from an asylum (he’s a lawyer) all the while detective bloom is trying to figure out who murdered a girl in red.

should i read it? do you like hitchcock and crime? then, yes, absolutely.

rating: 4 kittens

3, norwegian wood by haruki murakami

my take: this one.. this one made me angry. i wanted to like it so much. i wanted the bragging rights that come with loving this book. i wanted it to be one of my favourites. but it didn’t become one of them. and that isn’t due to the themes of sexuality, mental illness and suicide murakami covers or his way of writing them. he actually did a great job of de-stigmatizing those and if it would’ve been just for that norwegian wood would indeed be one of my favourites. no, it’s the structure for me.  you can splice it into four sections: the beginning, the main - or - middle part, the pre-ending and the ending. reading it was as though murakami’s words were like a thread delicately woven through the pages that unraveled at the middle part and then were completely lost at the ending. you should probably know that i’m a slut for a good ending, but this one i disliked with a passion. not just what the protagonist did within it but also how it didn’t connect to the beginning in a way that made me think i was reading a whole different book than what i started reading…which may have been the point but just not to my personal taste. murakami shattered a perfectly fine stained-glass-window he just crafted to make a new one from the shards. that’s exactly what it felt like reading norwegian wood for me.

should i read it? a lot like with goethe: if you can openly talk about suicide and death as an every-day thing, yes. murakami does a brilliant job of twriting about them as such.

rating: 4 kittens.

4, the snows of kilimanjaro by ernest hemingway

my take: rapist, racist, mysogonistic trash

should i read it? no. no one should.

rating: no kittens, not even dead ones.

5, nightsky with exit wounds by ocean vuong

my take: a lot of trauma is what i took from it. this poetry collection gave me a very personal history lesson, which i enjoyed but it wasn’t for my personal taste. nonetheless i can see the appeal, vuong has a solid way of telling his story. it is quite repetitive but that’s one of the things i like about nightsky with exit wounds, it underlines the trauma neatly and will hit you over and over again, much like vuong must’ve been feeling while writing.

should i read it? if you’re up for trauma and don’t mind maybe not understanding at first read. and if you’re up for some pube-tastic surprises.

rating: 3 kittens.

6, less by andrew sean greer

my take:  this one might be worth a double-read. remember what i said about me being a slut for a good ending? this one’s ending turned the whole book around for me. most of the time while reading i was thinking “how fucking pretentious” and it didn’t hit me how sad less really was until a few days after i finished it. in the end the book really comes full circle, which i love, and greer does a phenomenal job placing all the right dots for you to connect. it really leaves you feeling accomplished, with a pretty picture in hand (though sad when you really look at it). the last chapter really made me feel things, good things and i can now honestly say that i whole-heartedly recommend less with every fiber of my being.

should i read it? yes, it’s very gay and very good.

rating: 5 kittens. 

7, ariel by sylvia plath

my take: poetry, again. i adore plath’s instinct for rhythm, it’s off but it isn’t and i am a sucker for that. it’s like plath is forcing you to breath in deeply and then not letting you exhale until you get to the next line. i liked how repetitive she was, though at times it was too repetitive for me, it was very much the thought of “i read that before” with many hospital and atlantic similes.

should i read it? a little bit of sylvia plath won’t hurt, so yeah. plus you get to read the line of “with my red hair, i eat men like air” in context.

rating: 4 kittens.

[fuse2dx]

October ‘20

Hades

Hades is a great roguelike for people that don’t like roguelikes. As you start out, you may be back to the start again frequently, but as well as taking the smart step of making the beginning one of the most endearing parts of the whole process, it also rarely lets you leave on your journey without some kind of permanent upgrades in tow. This tweak to how the genre typically plays out may not be new, and could almost be taken as a gap in its armour, if only it weren’t so effective and damned confident in every other facet of what it does. 

Combat is very much at the heart of it, with a variety of fundamentally different (and yet all entirely viable) weapons being just the foundation of the ways in which your play style is catered to. Movement is quick, smooth, and satisfying, and clearing rooms feels good even before you’re then offered a reward. Some of these fulfil the role of currencies that can be used back in the house of Hades, while others are more focused on trying to improve your chances of survival this time in particular, through either direct changes to your weapon, or God-granted boons that help shape your build in their image. As you progress you’ll find even more ways to diversify your loadout, and with so many of these layers being randomly generated each time, there’s an impressive breadth of diversity that goes far beyond the procedurally-generated level layouts and your chance encounters within them.

Sitting atop all of this is a rich and dense story, neatly crafted around Greek mythology. It’s drawn out to match the longevity of a soap opera, yet somehow retains a momentous level of quality in both the writing and the voice performances. Minute details of your tragedies and triumphs are pored over in frankly stunning detail by the characters you interact with, often linked with changes that are then reflected in their behaviour during your runs, and then reacted to once more when you get back to them again. Aside from the sheer number of conversations to have with them, there’s plenty to love in each of the characters - they’re charmingly presented in both the art and and the performances that bring them to life.

Even once I’d reached the point where winning became more of an inevitability than a lofty goal, I still found myself enthused by each trip back to the start -  raring to go, armed with new stories to unravel, new upgrades to pursue, heightened challenges, and new kit to play with. The level of all-over polish is rarely seen to begin with, and to do so when the volume of game is as substantial as it is here is frankly staggering. Bravo, Supergiant - this is really something quite special.

Hide & Dance!

A rhythm game spin-off of an already quite esoteric title - Hidden my Game by Mom - seems just the kind of thing that’d get my attention, right? Diving right in, it’s pretty simple as far as rhythm games go, with four basic inputs mapped to d-pad and face buttons. The unique addition is in-keeping to the theme of the original game, and has you constantly keep an eye on the door behind you - spotting when it begins to crack open, and right on cue, pressing the L and R buttons to avoid your family, before then resuming your throwing of shapes. That said, ‘avoid’ is a catch-all term here, and every character has a variety of daft poses, dodges, and deceptions that all fall under this header, the only connection being the their crucial suggestion you’re doing anything but dancing. These are totally ludicrous, and often hilarious. Please: see above.

Songs are cheerful, upbeat, poppy numbers, and typically are under a minute in length. See, it’s not trying to set the rhythm game world on fire, but it is charming, pleasant, and even a little challenging once you start to crank up the difficulty. The smattering of songs you start out with is quickly bolstered with an in-game store (see: gachapon machine) that doles out characters, songs and sound effects - though it really doesn’t take long to clear it out and have the complete collection available to you either. It’s not essential, but it’s a modest, and modestly priced, diversion that’s worth a glance.

13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim

Even with the heavily-cliched setting of teenage school kids piloting giant robots and being pitted against cataclysmic invaders to preserve the fate of the earth, anyone who’s familiar with Vanillaware, or more specifically, the work of George Kamitami, will still easily be able to identify his work. His art is as beautiful as it is recognisable, and with the more sedate story sections of the game panning, scaling, and dynamically lighting all of this, it’s certainly quite a striking thing to look at. 

Yet, the visuals aren’t the most over-reaching part of the game by any stretch. The titular 13 sentinels are manned by the 13 central characters, who each have their own little narrative arcs for you to see through. You start off with a small selection of them, but you’ll soon be expanding your horizons and juggling the full roster, choosing which angle to tug the narrative threads from. A whole other layer of the game is arguably the most game-y bit of the package, leading the sentinels more directly in real-time strategic battles. These sections are more fun than I’d expected; different sentinels have different skills and strengths that must be played to, and effective use of upgrade materials between fights are equally satisfying to put into practice. There’s even more storytelling at the beginning and end of each of these fights too, and balancing these two main parts of the game is left entirely in your hands. Your progress on all fronts is clearly tracked and visible throughout, and although you’re very like to come across a roadblock on one side, the game is always very open about what’s holding you back and needs to be done first to prepare you for the next big revelation in the story.

In truth, the story is a little bit too ambitious - given the number of characters, the complexity of its scenario and sci-fi concepts, and the likelihood of out-of-sequence dipping in and out of each story, it’s very easy to lose track of what’s happening, or even worse, the desire to keep up with the details. Thankfully, the overall mission is straightforward and compelling enough, with plenty of good moments to propel you forward. Backed up with great art, and an impressively competent battle system underpinning it all, this has turned out to be the first Vanillaware game that I’ve ever been inspired to see through to completion.  

[legobiwan]

Just got home from The Rise of Skywalker. No pithy intro, I’m just going to jump right in and it’s going to be a LONG rant here so buckle up, my friends, and be sure to read below the cut. SPOILERS AHOY YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Okay, so yes, the first third of the movie went at a blistering, nearly nonsensical pace. JJ  really had to cram a whole watermelon’s worth of exposition into a...well, you know, there was a lot to take in. This movie had to do so much telling instead of showing because it was such a departure (and middle finger to TLJ) from what came before. 

The thing was, the first third was also the most interesting part of the movie. I actually wish the whole trilogy had started with all of the Sith nonsense. (Actually, I wish they had started with Kylo absolutely wrecking shit like he did and then the Palpatine scene. People would have made all the wrong assumptions and it would have been glorious to unravel it over three films.) There is a strong history of Sith artifacts in both Nu-Canon and Legends, and it wouldn’t have been out of place, considering what we know now, to have made Rey, Poe, and Finn’s quest for these artifacts the start of the new trilogy, and then told the rest of the story in a non-linear timeline. Probably too experimental for a Star Wars reboot, but it would have grabbed attention and everyone like creepy Sith shit. 

Frankly, I would have dropped zombie-robot Palpatine at the very start of the trilogy, as well. It’s bonkers but I don’t hate the Rey Palpatine thing and they could have spent the rest fo the movies explaining this weird-ass lineage and how it relates to Kylo, Snoke, etc. and then have built back to the final confrontaion on Exegol. 

Leia. Trained. Rey. I so so so so so wished we had been able to get more of this. This, in my mind, is what it should have been all along. I liked TLJ (okay, so shoot me) but Master Leia is a whole other level of awesome. If I had to rewrite Luke and Leia’s roles, it would have went something like this:

Luke was searching for Sith artifacts. Luke was becoming disillusioned by what he was learning of the Jedi through “The Sacred Texts.” WHO DOES THAT SOUND LIKE? Hmmmm, I wonder....

Could you imagine Luke started to go a little Dooku in this respect, and so instead of fucking off the Ach-To because he had a feeling that was more “gravy than of grave” about Ben Solo’s dark sidedness, he fucked off to Ach-To - or even better - gave up training in order to keep himself from going down a darker path. 

And so instead, Leia is getting involved with training (and probably also governing at the same time because she would be an overachiever like that.)

Enter Ben Solo, who is Force sensitive, strong, being trained by his mother and occasionally his uncle, who is not totally plugged into the light side at the moment, which can rub off on Ben. Meanwhile, Han is maybe not the best father (he wants to be, he tries, but it all comes out wrong. I’ve been watching a lot of Psych lately, so I’m thinking of a dynamic similar to Henry and Shawn, but a little more dramatic.)

Of course, Palpatine is seeing all of this behind the scenes, he’s fostering ill will and discontent through the scattered remains of the Empire, sending Snoke clones out to be almost pseudo-religious/cult figures in the wake of the economic and social devastation left by the Empire’s fall and the floundering new government. Extremism, in pockets, rises. Extremism which preys on discontent, which preys of the desire for family, for belonging. 

Enter again Ben Solo, who has been pitted against the other strongest trainee, Rey (insert whatever last name you want. She knows it’s not her real name, she knows she was an orphan on Jakku, but she was brought by Luke to be trained). Ben is pissed how she and Leia bond, has been talking to his uncle, and perhaps encountered a Snoke clone on the way. 

Rey, on the other hand, is no one but wants to be someone, and that manifests in weird ways during her training. Perhaps she leaves at some point, perhaps not. But the seeds of her being Palpatine’s bloodline are laid within her. She wants to seek that belonging Ben has.

Okay, but getting away from my personal rewrites of the sequels, Star Wars is about family and lineage, both blood and found. There was so much potential to play on this throughout the trilogy with the Skywalkers, with Rey’s relation to Palps that if they had just planned the damn thing, it could have been brilliant. 

Moving ...(for now)

I felt so bad for Oscar Isaac. I felt like I watched his soul slowly depart his body over almost 3 hours. That man was not a happy camper and it came out in his performance. 

Power levels. Here’s the thing, guys. Magic needs to have consequences. Sure, you can cast a spell, but what does that take from you? You can use the Force, but to what degree? How much? Even Anakin exhausted himself at some points, and he was (allegedly, according to one Qui-gon Jinn), the Chosen One. It’s the first law of thermodynamics - energy can neither be created nor destroyed - and the Force is literally the energy of every life thing in the galaxy. You take the energy, use it towards something else, it has to drain from somewhere. This is what bugged the hell out of me with Rey’s Force Healing abilities (an ability that doesn’t thrill me to begin with as it’s so easy to overuse). Kylo keels from resurrecting the dead (and yeah, he was pretty beat up already), but Rey barely seems to breathe a beat harder. Once you start ignoring the consequences for magic, you end up like a shitty video game, and one of the criticisms I’ve leveled at the movie is that it feels like a montage of Battlefront and I can’t say that’s totally off point.

JEDI HUNTERS. Ochi. I will bet my right liver we’re going to hear something about this on The Mandalorian. 

So I know a lot of people wanted to see Rey Kenobi, but there was one piece of glaring evidence in the film why that would never be. (Aside from Kylo just announcing it to Rey.) She has a lightsaber, but she still ends up using a blaster. So uncivilized.

Speaking of The Mandalorian - Stormtroopers with Mando jetpacks. Hmmm.....

I loved techno-Sheev hooked up to all the equipment just floating. That was creepy as hell and played with the whole cloning and extension of life that was such a large part of the Darth Plagueis novel (which I still consider to be canon, higher powers be damned). Also, Palpy’s glowup with the wardrobe was hilarious. 

Dark!Rey was hot. There, I said it.

Let’s talk about romance. Or the lack thereof. Or the shoehorned thereof.

Poor Rose got shafted in this film with no explanation. I didn’t buy that whole thing in TLJ, but god damn anyway. (Finn also got shafted, for different reasons, which I will talk about later.)

If they were going to romance, just let it have been Finn and Poe, Finn and Rey, or fuck it, even a trio. 

I mean, I could have bought Reylo if it had been presented better. (With context. Adam Driver is an amazing actor, another thing I’ll talk about later.)

The Reylo kiss though - my theater laughed. No joke.

Of course, this was the same theater that thought Lando was trying to mack on Jannah at the end, so who knows what we were all thinking in there. (On that note, Lando was hilarious because no matter what, he was just having a grand ‘ol time in the movie. I like to think he got a medical spice card in his retirement years and was just enjoying anything that came his way, be it Wookiees, Jedi, starships, wars, whatever.)

While the Reylo kiss didn’t hit the mark the space lesbian background kiss got cheers, so there was some hope for my fellow theater-goers.

Did anyone pick up on Threepio saying the Senate made the bill that would render him incapable of translating the Sith language? No doubt that was a Palpatine move from TCW era. 

What is up with these movies and desert/jungle planets? Ugh. Thank everyone for Kijimi, at least that was interesting. 

New characters I loved: Babu Frik and DO. 

Finn’s Force sensitivity. Yes, I totally buy it. I wanted more. I wanted more fucking context of a Stormtrooper who would have known nothing of the Jedi getting these feelings and then bailing from the First Order (or, if I were writing the movies, bailing from the remnants of the Empire/Snokes weird military cults.) Totally underutilized character development. 

We. Were. Robbed. of Good!Ben. Adam Driver is so phenomenal. Form the little we saw of redeemed Ben, he is the perfect mix of his parents, from the “Ow” to the eyebrow wagging, the swagger, the smirks...I LOVED good!Ben. I wanted so much more good!Ben. What a transformation.

Speaking of which - the scene between Kylo/Ben and Han was terrific. I wish we had had more context for why everything went south, but it was so good and the type of family dynamic we really needed more of. 

The Knights of Ren looked awesome in this film? They needed to be like the Black Order of Star Wars, and they were getting to it, but not quite there. Gods, they could have been the enforcers of Snoke’s cults (Palpy’s puppet cults) that could terrorize far more than a normal, brainwashed Stormtrooper, who was only useful as cannon fodder (I mean, if we look at the history of the clone army to the Stormtroopers, it would be terribly fitting.)

That ship tug-of-war was DUMB. (See my rant about magic and consequences). But, if Rey was going to shoot lightening Palpy-style and blow up a ship, Chewie should have died. I’m sorry, that’s terrible, I love him, but there needed to be consequences for actions and throughout the film, there were either no consequences or random consequences that were a narrative convenience rather than developed into the plot/characterization/worldbuilding. 

Here’s the thing with the ST - there is so much potential. There are some awesome ideas. But they wanted to play if safe with JJ by rebooting the OT, Rian was too far out for them, there was no cohesive storytelling, and so we get these little glimpses into what could have been amidst a shitstorm of trailers for Battlefront 17. 

we could have had it allll....

Final rating: 4/10

[anniebibananie]

Could you write a jonsa fic where Jon at the end of the show gives up the IT because he only wants to be with Sansa (in the North)? Need the fluff!!

a/n: sorry anon this has been sitting in my inbox forever. canon divergence, post-show for you

***

Sansa had barely returned to her own quarters, having only just sent away a maid she had asked for warm water to be drawn for a bath, when the knock came at her door. 

It was a semi-furious knock, really. An impatient one. 

She was half in undress as she removed her travel clothes, hoping to feel clean of the dirt of the road but more than that simply the heaviness of all that had unraveled. The feeling of watching Arya go off to sea. Of leaving Bran and Jon in King’s Landing, the promise of the new half-Targaryen, half-Stark king. 

It was a loneliness that settled around her now, and she hoped she could wash it away with some hot water and the feeling of weightlessness. Though, loneliness was a feeling she had grown rather accustomed to. She had learned to wield it like a blade, sharpening it until it became her defense. 

A lonely person was alone, but alone she couldn’t be hurt or swayed. She’d simply wear it with her Northern crown if she must. At least she was home and safe. It would have felt sweeter with her family, but… well, she couldn’t afford to be picky. Life could be much harder than that. 

Sansa threw on her night robe to cover up, and she went to the door. 

“Jon?” she asked, eyes wide and head tilted. “What in the world are you doing here?” 

He pushed in past her, clearly not caring for that decorum of a you may enter as he made his way to the center of the room and turned toward her. 

“Do you know how long it took after you left for me to realize my mistake?” he asked breathlessly. He brought a hand to his chest, taking a deep breath in, before pulling it back and removing his travel furs in a hurried sort of motion. 

Sansa was trying to rationalize all that was in front of her. There was Jon, clearly having traveled back to Winterfell, and he had arrived nearly exactly at the same time as her. He was wearing travel clothes, and his face looked weary, but there was something sort of… wild about him, she guessed. The look of someone free, finally, after having felt held for so very long. 

Quite frankly, the last time she had seen any trace of that on him was at the Wall, and it had only come and gone then. What was he doing here, now? He was supposed to be ruling the rest of the kingdoms. 

“What mistake?” Sansa asked, brows coming together as she moved closer to him. “Where’s— What are you doing here? I don’t…” 

“You had said goodbye,” he told her. “You said goodbye, and I watched you turn away, looked at your red as fire hair, and I knew I was doing something absolutely idiotic.” 

“Ruling several kingdoms?” Sansa asked with a tilt of her head, feeling the ridiculousness of this all wash over her. “Jon, you’ll make a good ruler. You don’t—”

He cut her off. “Letting you go.” 

His face was deadly serious, and Sansa didn’t know how to hold those words. They were still too sharp, meaning too many different things depending on the way she turned them in her palms. 

“I don’t have the birthright to be Queen of it all. Is that what you mean?” She shook her head. “I want the North, not the rest of it, and the people chose you.” 

“And I choose you,” he continued. “I’m not talking about ruling anything, Sansa. Who gives a flying fuck anymore about who sits on any throne? What is the point of all of this if none of us are happy?”

For a second Sansa couldn’t begin to contemplate what to say. Then, laughter took over her. Something light and elated, something ridiculous and bright. It ripped from her chest and bounded around the room. “Jon,” she began, having to pause as another branch of laughter took over, “did you leave the Iron Throne to come here?” 

He nodded, amusement in his eyes as he stepped closer. “I waited long enough to talk about a succession plan with Bran before I rode off. I knew you’d be mad at me if I didn’t think about how it should be run without me.” 

She bit her lip, tried to keep herself still and managed. “And?” 

“And,” he continued, “I was thinking. Let every kingdom rule themselves, and we can come together when we must. A council or something. You’d mentioned that once. Bran has stayed to help oversee it.” 

“And you came here?” 

“Aye.” He was a foot away, and Sansa missed getting to see the lines of him this way. Up close, with freedom and no judgement, knowing he wasn’t going to leave her. His expressive eyes, and his dark curly hair. “I don’t want to rule anything. I don’t want the Iron Throne. I just want you.” 

“I’m not a possession,” she replied, but the words were light. 

They had never really talked about them. There were too many things going on and too many things between them. The war against the dead and The Dragon Queen and the change in relation that still, perhaps, did not mean as much as either of them hoped. Most days, Sansa was fairly sure she was the only one who felt anything, but then he would give her a lingering look or a soft touch and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Not that it mattered. He would sit on the Iron Throne. She would sit in the North. What could ever come of it? Goodbye had felt like the end of any of that possibility. 

His face looked pained. “I know, Sansa, I… you have to know, don’t you?” 

“Know what?” 

“That I love you?” he asked. “In a way that I won’t be able to halt.” 

“You gave up the whole Seven Kingdoms for me?” she asked. 

He nodded. 

“You rode all the way from King’s Landing?” 

He nodded again. “I thought a letter might be a bit impersonal.” 

She laughed, bringing a hand to her lips. This wasn’t real. A few steps separated them, and she walked the distance and wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around her back, and for a minute the two of them clung to one another. She rested her chin on his shoulder and breathed him in.

“Don’t leave again,” she ordered into his neck. 

He brought his hands to her cheeks, delicately holding them, and pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “Never,” he agreed.

It was all she needed to break the distance again, this time with her lips, and kiss him. He responded with ease, eagerly, like a man who had thought about this a million and one times but had never contemplated the reality of it. Never saw himself to actually be so lucky. 

Sansa understood it because she felt it, too.

She pulled back to catch her breath and smiled. “I love you, too.” 

Being home felt sweeter already knowing Jon would be there with her, and she had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Not even, perhaps, out of this bedroom.