#and we could tell them about the intricacies of the plot of one piece and what new skins we got in fortnite

[stinkrascal]

theres nothing i want more than for an older millennial couple to adopt me and my boyfriend i want to be friends with two millennials so badly

[askinkiskarma]

I have a lot of thoughts about arcane and rather than dealing with them on my own i thought i would try to write them out and see how other people feel and maybe have a conversation about it, because the beauty of art is sharing it and seeing it through your own eyes, as well as others’ - the beauty of art is its ability to ignite and spark a conversation… a change.

Arcane is very important to me, because of what it represents - humanity, in all its aspects and kaleidoscopic facets, in all its glory and in all its misery. What made it unique is how inherently relatable and universal the feelings and experiences the characters go through and how inherently human their problems are at their core, and whilst they were able to keep a lot of those sentiments in season 2, I feel by act iii they forsook a lot of what made arcane special.

Very rambly thoughts ahead, I do apologise, and please tell me yours, I would love to speak about it and process it.

To me arcane was always about class struggles, about oppression, about what happens to the oppressed when they are pushed to the brink, about how that affects a person’s journey and their fates, and putting faces to those struggles on both sides of the equation - vi, an orphaned child who was forced to grow up too quickly and parentified to the point she felt like she had no value outside of being a protector; jinx - a brilliant mind who fell victim to trauma because there was no one able to help her outgrow it or deal with it; silco - a man who has seen the oppression first hand and chose to fight it regardless of the sacrifice it took. I could keep going and going but Arcane was a phenomenal display of character and morality, and an almost perfect attempt at the shades of grey that make most of us who we are. No character was without flaw, and no character was unjustified in their actions in their own minds and due to their own particular set of circumstances.

I think most of the gripes I have with season 2 stem from two overarching themes: time and ambition. But before I go into this, let me praise it for a bit because despite all my grievances, I still think it is the best animated piece of art of all time and I still think it's better than 99% of anything I've ever been invested in. Although almost redundant to even talk about, I want to shine a light onto the animation. I have to give so much credit to every single person involved in bringing this series to life, because it is a spectacle from the first frame to the last, and the amount of talent, effort and passion it took to do this can never be put into words.

I will bring up things I loved about it as I'm talking what I didn't, because they are very much entrenched. My biggest complain about season 2 is that, the fact that it was only one season. I believe everything they've set out to achieve and every plot point they introduced could have been properly addressed and done justice in in one more season, and therefore, none of the problems I'm about to go into would have ever been an issue.

Imagine this: season 2 starts exactly as it did, with the first three episodes dealing with the aftermath of jinx's actions and the loss that drives Piltover into deplorable reactions, with Caitlyn and Ambessa at the helm, descending into fascism, Cait driven by blind rage and the prejudice she's been fed her entire life without an active effort into trying to overcome it, Ambessa driven by ambition and desperate attempts to one-up the Black Rose organisation. However, the season progresses differently - to me, this conflict and its consequences should have been what this season was about.

Simple yet deeply impactful, tackling the themes they set up in the last season, tackling the intricacies of what would lead the characters into their actions - for Cait, expanding on the way grief, fear and guilt makes you regress back to your most ignorant, primal, selfish self; for Vi, the way a lifetime of being told she's responsible for everything and everyone and her unbridled desire for love and family made her abandon her core principles and join the people she hates in order to kill the monster she thinks she's responsible for creating; for Ambessa, the way her deeply embedded and deeply repressed fear of the Black Rose coupled with the Noxian belief in strength and sacrifice and war made her give up one her core beliefs that warriors are forged through blood sweat and tears and not through magic and reach out to Singed, therefore becoming an almost caricature of herself etc etc etc.

That coupled with the overarching conflict between Piltover and Zaun, how Piltover's actions are the breaking point for Zaun, as well as the personal conflicts between Jinx and Vi, Mel and Ambessa, Vi and Cait, potentially Jayce and Cait once Jayce realises Cait has become someone she would have absolutely despised just a few weeks ago, would have made for a compelling and powerful season that kept to much of the themes of the first season and could have been the stepping stones for a larger conflict that could have been introduced but not expanded in this season - Viktor and the Hexcore, the bigger battle between humanity vs the arcane, the Black Rose and their involvement in everything.

Season 2 would introduce Isha as a positive role model for Jinx and a way that Jinx would be able to be rescued from the nothingness her life had become - Isha could have been a symbol for Zaun, and the reason Jinx would decide to become the face of the revolution for Zaun independence. Season 2 could have ended with the Jinx and Vander moment in the prison, or with her reaching out for Vi after her KO in the pits. Season 3 then could have dealt with everything else, and been a great way to introduce other characters and other conflicts (Mel and the Black Rose), which I assume will be part of the next series about runeterra.

I think this season and what it was trying to achieve was great, but its biggest downfall was that in its ambition, it fell short of what made it great. Because whilst the fighting and the animations and the moments we did get with the characters were great, there wasn't enough time to make them justified or fleshed out, and in that, we lost the essence of what people loved the most about Arcane - the eye to detail, the accuracy in character writing and portrayal.

I loved seeing Cait and Vi together and I loved seeing them get into conflict - I did not, however, love that Caitlyn went from being a dictator to redeeming herself in basically one episode with no consequences for her actions. Vi should have been mad, she should have been furious, she should have held her accountable and she didn't. I wanted them to have a much earned sex scene, but not in a prison, which overlooks the insane amount of trauma Vi has suffered in Stillwater and how insensitive doing it there comes across as.

I loved seeing Jinx and Vi reunited - but for a story that started and was always at its core a story about two sisters, there was not nearly enough done to explore their very complicated and tumultuous relationship and bring it to a satisfying conclusion. Not one scene in which they talked about their issues, where they opened up about the past, where they resolved anything before Jinx eventually died, and then, not even one scene of Vi mourning her or what her death represents to the overarching story or to Zaun.

I loved seeing Jinx get better, and her character was actually the highlight of the show for me this season, but a lot of it felt rushed and not properly explored - by the beginning of act 2 she seemed basically perfectly sane, and even after losing Isha, she seemed perfectly in charge of her emotions and was able to surrender herself and make perfectly rational decisions, which doesn't seem in line with all we know about jinx. Not to mention Isha was never mentioned once in the whole of act 3, and neither did Jinx becoming a symbol for Zaun amount to absolutely anything in the end.

I hated how much like the fandom, and the characters themselves, the writers seem to overlook Vi completely. She got the short end of the stick at literally every turn and I thought she would have gotten a semblance of justice in the end, but she didn’t. She forsake everything she knew and believed in because Jinx needed to be killed - Jinx was actually better and fixed herself without any of her involvement, so she betrayed herself for nothing. She finally opens up to Cait and cries in front of her, begging her not to change because she’s already lost everything - Cait betrays her like 5 minutes later and attacks her, abandoning her, then comes back like nothing happened and Vi doesn’t give a shit and forgives her immediately. Finally gets Vander and Jinx back? Loses them both again in the span of a few days. SHE EVEN FUCKING GOT A BAD ENDING IN THE HAPPY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHERE EVERYONE ELSE WAS HAPPY LIKE WTF. I could keep going and going about Vi and all the ways she was done wrong but I’d be here forever so let’s move on but #justiceforvi

I liked the Jayce and Viktor conflict and I actually believe everything they've done with that they handled well, since it was basically the main plot of the season, and I loved the way ekko's storyline intertwined with theirs, but this could have been handled even better in a season dedicated to it, and I wish it hadn't come at the expense of Jinx, Vi, Cait and the conflict between Zaun and Piltover. Watching this show felt a little bit like watching season 1 of game of thrones and then halfway through season 2 we're actually in season 8 and the white walkers are here and nobody cares about the iron throne anymore and everything that happened we're supposed to forget about and focus on jon snow vs the night king and it's so confusing cause I kinda cared about Ned Stark and who killed Jon Arryn and i’m kinda still mad that Cersei killed Lady and I’m still curious about Bran and his visions and Varys and the importance of choosing a leader who cares about the small folks and and and ???

This is such a long post and I’m very sorry and I’m writing it on my phone so it might not even make sense but I needed to get some of it out because this has taken over my life.

I probably will have more thoughts as I’m processing this more but for now pls tell me i’m not alone and pls tell me your thoughts 🤍

[nugulover69]

Hello! Hope you’re having a great day ✌️

Came to say thank you for your tokupostings, always fun and incredible, definitely storing a lot of stuff in my memory vocabulary salad and some pictures to my phone.

Have nothing substantial to ask but really having “there should more kusakapostings day”. Saw the screens from that Movie I’ll probably not watch and “Kusaka” saying he and Takumi were friends which is a theme sometimes. For some reason. The intricacies of a relationship that are so beautiful and fucking stupid. Tbh I’m always wondering if Takumi hated him as much as fandom says he did, I blacked out whole Faizwatching. Frankly tho, don’t care that much and thinking about this from your reblog instead:

That one promotional series where moe hag Takumi is obsessed with new fish Mari found and Kusaka who just pours water on him… the worst domesticity known to man, incredible actually? And no one will talk about it. Haven’t watched second part so the thought of Kusaka killing new fish Takumi actually likes and then gaslighting him, idk, something something domestic toxic yaoi something something need more funny takusaka jokes in my life

Also I find the fact the person behind Kusaka Evil Rap original song is trans so amazing, the full circle of life

Thank uuuu I like knowing my posting can change someone’s speech irreparably lol

Everyone should be thankful that I’m more of a sentai guy than a rider guy and that Faiz is a bad shitty ass show instead of a good show. If either of these scenarios were the opposite, you’d all unfollow me for yapping abt my ugly-hot cancelled wife too much

I’ll admit my memory of Faiz isn’t the best either bc I binged it in a week while on spring break. My college-fried brain wasn’t in the best condition to try and absorb the utter nonsense that unfolded before my eyes. That and I watched it with the shitty TVN subs bc the better updated subs didn’t exist at that time. Even when I rewatched a bunch of episodes for “finding good clips to make gifs out of for Kusaka Day purposes” (with the better subs too), I still could not tell you the plot. incomprehensible show but it is funny bad for the most part

It’ll never not be weird to me that every subsequent piece of Faiz and Faiz-related media keeps INSISTING that Takumi and Kusaka are besties actually bc ???? no they weren’t? Like okay they warmed up to each other a lil bit by the end of Faiz, Takumi was sad when he found Kusaka’s soot remains after all, but I’d sooner define them as “begrudging allies against the same threat” than “friends”. All of this is def bc Kento Handa and Kohei Murakami are shoot besties irl, sang a gay ass duet of Justiφ's and everything. they willed their incorrect yaoi into existence, fudanshi gods I think

Maaaaaybe I could buy that Takumi thinks of Kusaka as a friend after a lot of time has passed, having matured out of his edgy emo teenager phase. EXCEPT Paradise Regained went “Takumi is still a whiny brooding lil baby even at 40” so fuck my drag ig (these two literally share like 2 minutes of screen time together in PR btw)

Also in PR the fact that KUSAKA is the one saying “oh we were such good friends weh” is even more egregious. This man, had he lived just a lil longer in the og show, was this 🤏 close to inventing a new slur for Takumi. He would NEVER call that bitchass wolf his friend

I didn’t watch the Murder Case two episode bonanza bc Paradise Regained winded me. I just saw someone else post caps of Takumi cooing at a plastic fish and thought “man they just let Inoue do whatever the fuck, he’s truly living the writers dream”

Honestly though I’m up for fully ignoring established canon bc the concept of bitter old married couple Takumi and Kusaka is in fact very funny to me. When Takumi jokes abt the old ball and chain, Kusaka comes up from behind and nails him in the cock with an actual ball and chain. Faiz has always been comedy actually Inoue has been playing 5D chess with us for two decades now

It is so funny how that rap perfectly suited Kusaka, like it wasn’t made for him but it just feels like it was. paper-mario-wiki truly the best to ever do it on this webbed site

[reyesstrand]

id imagine the tk carlos thing might be religion/gwyn related too i’m not jewish so if i’m wrong people can tell me but i went to a university with 1/4 jewish student body and learned a lot about the religion and culture in that time and judaism can be very particular when it comes to traditions and mothers are very important to especially more conservative sects and some rabbis won’t marry non jewish people to jewish people i mean more do now than used to but it’s not as simple has marrying into christianity since it’s a closed religion so it could bring up questions especially if it contradicts with what id imagine to be carloss catholic family traditions

yeah i know like next to nothing about the intricacies of judaism despite what i’ve researched to put it in tiny moments of my fics, and even then i can obviously never know everything completely (same with catholicism) but! this seems likely? we know rafael’s been talking more about his choices in wearing a gold cross since push, and their faces here suggest that they’re learning some hard truths and realities about keeping both of their faiths and traditions upheld in an inter-faith ceremony

of course that might only be a small piece of the puzzle re: tim’s quote, but i do think this will open up a larger conversation about what they want their future to look like specifically with their strong ties to their own faiths through their families, which could just in general get them talking more about what they want coming down the road (ie: raising a family ((EVENTUALLY)), keeping these elements of judaism and catholicism and finding a balance in their lives, etc etc), and could get them feeling giddy and excited. i also think this could hit deeper in the sense that we could finally get tk really talking about gwyn’s absence through the planning and the actual day of the wedding—he could address that grief and maybe why one particular tradition is important to him. i don’t know if these stills are for sure related but i love them so here <3

AND….this is less about your anon specifically, but i also feel like we have to remember that julian is the one who specifically brought up trauma in a question where he mentions all the cast being excited about the wedding. this trauma could relate to another character as they build up to the wedding; we see captain ryder again at some point which is telling, and we also have some grace/judd plots coming up too. tim speaks in his usual confusing teasing way about whether or not tk and carlos will face trauma on the way to the wedding now, and he only really says “complication…neither one of them had really seen coming.” while of course we could be gearing up for another Big Thing to happen, i think we’re past that, and the most difficult thing they’ll be enduring is religion/officiant stuff and/or things relating to their own families and gwyn. they probably should have seen that coming, sure, but it gives them something to go through that isn’t completely perfect sailing to the wedding and gives them some emotional stuff to dig into.

[sciencestyled]

Gravity Schmavity: The Wacky World of Physics in Literature and Drama

Alright, buckle up, my peeps, because we are about to embark on a wild ride through the wacky, zany, mind-bending universe where physics and art collide like a cat video compilation mixed with a Tarantino film! Picture this: Shakespeare meets Einstein in a dive bar, and they decide to write a science fiction novella about a time-traveling hamster named Gerald. That’s the kind of chaotic brilliance we’re diving into today!

First off, let’s talk about stories. You know those things that kept you awake during high school English class, whether it was due to suspense or sheer boredom? Yeah, those. Now, imagine them turbocharged with physics concepts. Instead of Hamlet’s existential dread, we have Hamlet grappling with quantum mechanics: “To be or not to be...a particle or a wave?”

Physics in literature is like adding Sriracha to your plain old physics broccoli – it suddenly becomes spicy and makes your brain do the cha-cha. Take, for instance, the classic tale of Alice in Wonderland. Replace the whimsical falling down the rabbit hole with Alice entering a black hole and navigating the strange rules of spacetime. Suddenly, “Eat Me” cakes could expand Alice’s mass exponentially, and the Cheshire Cat could be an observer effect in quantum theory. Physics education with art? More like physics education with a side of trippy mushroom hallucinations, am I right?

Now, let’s spice things up with a bit of drama – no, not your typical high school cafeteria drama, but real theatrical flair. Imagine a play set in a world where gravity is more fickle than a Tinder match. One moment you’re floating blissfully in the air, the next you’re face-planting into the ground because gravity decided to swipe left. Such a setting would make for some killer slapstick comedy, and yet, through the laughter, students would learn about the intricacies of gravitational force. Think of it as “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” meets “Interstellar.” Christopher Nolan, eat your heart out.

And what about the pièce de résistance of all sci-fi tropes – time travel? Picture a rom-com where the protagonists are constantly missing each other because one of them keeps accidentally slipping into a different timeline. “Sorry I’m late, darling, I was stuck in 1922. Again.” Hilarity ensues, but also, sneakily, students start grasping the concepts of relativity and causality. They might not even realize they’re learning because they’re too busy laughing at the protagonist who’s trying to prevent their past self from eating the last piece of pizza.

But wait, there’s more! You think I’m done? Oh no, my friends, we’re just getting started. Imagine a dystopian drama set in a universe where the laws of physics are different in every city. New York has normal gravity, but Los Angeles has zero-gravity zones. Chicago has time running backward, and Miami...well, Miami is just underwater (okay, maybe not that far-fetched). This would not only make for some epic plot twists but also teach students about the flexibility and the boundaries of physical laws. It's “The Hunger Games” with a side of physics trivia, minus the murder but with all the emotional scarring.

To make things even more meta, let’s throw in some narrative techniques. How about an unreliable narrator who explains physics principles, but with a twist? One minute they’re telling you about Newton’s Laws, the next they’re claiming Newton was an alien sent to teach us about inertia. The confusion, the humor, the inevitable “Wait, what?” moments – it’s all part of the learning process. Plus, it keeps students on their toes, questioning everything, which is basically the foundation of scientific inquiry, right?

Let’s not forget the beauty of dialogue in plays. Picture a heated argument about the Many-Worlds Interpretation of quantum mechanics between two characters who are literally living in alternate realities. One character says, “In my world, I took out the trash,” and the other retorts, “Well, in mine, you’re still a lazy bum.” This not only provides a hearty chuckle but also subtly introduces students to complex quantum theories in a way that feels relatable and, dare I say, entertaining.

Alright, let’s bring this chaotic carnival ride to a conclusion. When we blend physics education with art, especially through literature and drama, we create a learning environment that is both hilariously absurd and deeply insightful. It’s like teaching your cat to play the piano – it sounds impossible, but with enough patience and the right amount of catnip, it’s just crazy enough to work. Students become more engaged, concepts become more memorable, and let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to learn about thermodynamics through a rap battle between Isaac Newton and a breakdancing heat engine?

So next time you’re struggling to grasp the complexities of dark matter or the peculiarities of Schrödinger’s cat, just remember: if it can be turned into a story about a time-traveling hamster or a play where gravity is moodier than your ex, then it’s worth exploring. Because in the world of physics education with art, the only limit is the size of your imagination – and maybe the budget for special effects.

[h34rtizuku]

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

[ladyoftheblackpaint]

Dad-for-One Theory Breakdown

So now that the big man is out and on the loose, I was reading about this theory, and honestly it’s pretty interesting.

All For One being Izuku’s father.

Other people could probably write better analyses of the theory itself than me, but from what I understand these are some main arguments to support this being a possibility:

Firstly, let’s talk about AFO’s appearance.

He’s shown with white hair in the anime when he was younger, as does his younger brother. His eyes are constantly shadowed even before his face got jacked up by All Might.

So genetically speaking, here are the traits that constitute Izuku and his parental figures:

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have freckles

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green hair (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have curly hair

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have green eyes (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his eye shape (check)

One of Izuku’s parents would need to have his skin tone (check)

The thing with genetics, though, is that they’re weird things and parents are not always the sole givers of traits.

As we can see, from the parts of All For One’s face that is visible, he doesn’t have curly hair OR freckles, which is sort of a big kick in the gut for this theory.

Irregardless, I do have to say that theory, though, does have a point with the fact that his eyes are hidden. Most of Izuku’s traits seem to come from his mother, and the fact that two of his most telling traits (his curly hair and his freckles) just so happen to be in the same spots that are covered up by scar tissue in the design of present-day AFO is pretty interesting.

Coincidental New Abilities Given To Izuku & Izuku’s strange pain threshold.

So this is one that I have been asking questions about. OFA is a stock piling quirk, but from the looks of it, only strength is actually passed down from one individual to the next, like an energy reserve. However, if that is the case, why is it that all of a sudden the vestiges decided to change the rules of the game and bestow onto Izuku all of their abilities.

Why not All Might? He was the closest to killing AFO in the past, so if they had done so with him he might have actually done it.

It’s possible that the reason they chose Izuku was because of the impending catastrophes that were obviously coming to fruition with the League of Villains and Tomura.

I’m left to wonder if there was another reason, though:

One of the themes of My Hero Academia is how quirks harm the user over time. All Might gets wounded and then forces himself to keep using his quirk,  Bakugou hurts his arms if he uses his quirk too much, Aizawa gets dry eye, Ururaka throws up, and the most obvious of them is Izuku-- who breaks his bones with the intensity of his quirk.

This didn’t happen with All Might and apparently not with any of the past users, either, since All Might seemed surprised at the extent since it was easier for him, even though he suspected what the consequences might be. Add onto this that the ability is now supposed to be stronger than All Might’s was, and you get the picture.

The point is: Izuku gets wounded a lot and yet seems to have the pain resistance of a freaking monster I mean:

COME ON.

Taking that into consideration, AFO has been described as being concerned about how his quirk affects his body. Since he has so many quirks that could potentially harm him and overwhelm him. I mean, look at the experiments with the Nomu-- people are obviously not supposed to have more than one quirk.

So someone with the capability of wielding multiple quirks with possibly painful drawbacks would, probably, be able to pass on some of the needed traits to keep that up genetically to Izuku, amiright.

And it’s possible the vestiges could tell that Izuku could handle it because of this genetic connection.

He didn’t have a quirk, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t get other traits from AFO if he was his father, such as his endurance and pain threshold.

Which leads me to my next point:

Extra Toe Bone

I actually just thought of this when I was writing the last point, so if it makes no sense welp...

Izuku was born quirkless, something that is considered relatively rare, expecially as the generations go on. Quirks are genetic phenomenon, and so if two people who have quirks have a child, it is VERY slim that their child will be born quirkless, unless they had a grandparent or someone else down the line who was quirkless.

Now, AFO was part of the first generation of quirked people. Meaning, his parents would have likely been quirkless, something that would have made it much easier for his offspring to be quirkless, as well.

Fire-breathing Absent Father

This is one of the more easy and obvious ones.

Horikoshi has said that Izuku’s father would show up later in the story, meaning that he has had a plot planned out for Izuku’s parents. Whatever that might be.

So that obviously shuts down the idea that his father is simply an unimportant character. To be introduced so that into the story as if he’s a vital piece for the future story seems...strange. Pretty suspicious.

Anyways, there’s also the information that’s been given about Izuku’s father having the quirk of fire breathing, and, obviously, a man who has numerous quirks would have the possibility of being a fire breather.

There’s not much else to say about this point.

Parallelism

OH, this one’s my favorite.

Okay, looking at Tomura Shigaraki’s character for a moment, we see the connection he has with Nana, one of the previous holders of One for All.

This is a plot technique that is basically just a twist in the narrative. How could someone SO GOOD and someone that All Might looked up to have a grandchild so inherently evil? His family was relatively normal, even if his father was abusive (god, that’s a terrible thing to say but I digress). His father’s abuse came from the trauma he experiences when he was abandoned by Nana, but all in all his family was full of ordinary people. He had grandparents, a mother, a sister, and his abusive dad (oh god).

Even with the heroic heritage and the normal family life, Tomura becomes one of the worst villains in the series.

By parallelism, I mean, imagine the DRAMA if Izuku-- pure, wanting-to-be-a-hero, saving everyone’s ass, sunshine child Izuku-- was the most powerful villain’s child...that’d be fucking awesome. I would shit bricks. It’d be amazing!

Possibly predictable...

But amazing!

Plus, if you look at both Izuku and Tomura’s parents, if the Dad For One theory is true, they would each have one caring parent and one “bad” parent.

It would fit so well. With the narrative of the “heroes” of society not being inherently good (Nana abandoning her child-- even if she believed it was for his best interest) and villains simply being misunderstood until the point that they snap (look at literally ANY villain in the series. There’s some type of narrative about being abandoned by society).

One of the best heroes ever producing one of the greatest villains, and vice versa.

It’d be beautiful.

THAT’S some badass parallelism.

PLUS, it would fit with the narrative of ending the cycle of violence. For a story so based on the intricacies of society and what is truly “evil” and “good”, to have an ending where the two characters stray from their genetically defined path and decide their own destinies would be SO satisfying I’m getting excited just thinking about it.

ANYWAYS, I’m not so sure how much I believe this theory might come true, but I know that it’s not a silly theory at all. Looking at the narrative, the possible hints, the parallelism (GOD the PARALLELISM) it would make sense in the long run and, in my opinion, be super interesting.

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Stress - Fili x reader

May I request a Fili x Female!Reader where the reader is starting to get really stressed and it's starting to get to her and Fili makes it all better? 

@dark-angel-is-back​ of course! i tried to give this one an actual plot rather than centring it around romance 😅

Type: Imagine Pairing: Fili x reader Summary: being the only financial support of one’s family isn’t easy Warnings: ‘shit’ Word Count: 1338 words

Y/N let herself stare wistfully at the stall of pastries in the marketplace. She was sure that her siblings would love the sweet breads and treats, and the beautiful smell overwhelmed her.

But the Dwarrowdam shook her head, slipping her fingers into her pocket and feeling how few coins were there. To put it quite simply, she didn’t have the money for such luxuries. Y/N needed to save that money for necessities.

She wandered around the marketplace, doing her best to buy the cheapest things - a new dress for her little sister, as her old one had been frayed to pieces, meat for dinner, some fruits and vegetables, and one tiny bag of sweets for her siblings. There were four people in their family - Y/N, and her two younger sisters and one younger brother. She figured the kids deserved a little something. 

Y/N’s basket was becoming heavy, but she didn’t complain. She was all her siblings had - their father had fallen in battle and their mother died of a deadly disease. Y/N could never complain, because it wasn’t about her. It was about them.

They got smaller and thinner every week, and they were suffering from it, though they tried to hide it with their chins up and happy smiles. Y/N was so proud of them, but they were too young to help her. Too young to work, nor to understand the intricacies and rules of their unfair world. 

She ventured out to the edge of the forest, bending to pick some athelas for the medicine cupboard, some herbs for dinner, and some flowers for her little sisters (she also collected one for her brother, though he didn’t like them much). By now, her basket was almost overflowiit ng, and lugging it several kilometres back home would not be an easy task.

But she thought of her poor siblings, alone at home, hiding behind the barricaded door, missing their older sister. Y/N felt so guilty for leaving them alone - she’d left for her first job far before dawn, and she’d finished her third one at sunset.

It was now dark, and Y/N’s arms were trembling with the weight of the heavy baskets. She pulled it along, having long given up on holding it in her arms, and now dragging it along the cobblestones.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

It had been a hard day.Y/N had been beaten in her second job at the forges, for dropping a hot sword on her overseer’s foot.

“You stupid girl!” he yelled, hitting her across the face/ “Why did I hire you?“

Y/N was so hungry and exhausted that she almost gave up, but she saw the wooden door of her house ahead of her. She knocked on it, whispering to her siblings, “I’m home, guys. It’s Y/N.”

They opened the door - a girl of twelve, a boy of nine, and another girl of six flying out from it, immediately taking her basket from her.

She saw the hunger in their eyes, and the familiar tear tracks.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Y/N whispered. “Here, help me make dinner.“

They did so - slicing the meat off the bones and putting them into stale bread as sandwiches. The bones would be turned to soup later.

Her siblings took the gifts, thanking her profoundly, and they ate hungrily.

“You guys get into bed, okay?” Y/N said, faking a smile. “I’ll be right there.”

The three children ran into the only bedroom, laughing and talking about the lollies they’d be able to eat tomorrow. Y/N opened the door cautiously, sitting outside on the steps. 

She lowered her head into her hands and began to cry soundlessly. Of course, making any kind of whimper would single her out as a target - and she had to be strong for her brother and sisters. How they could be so happy every day was beyond her.

Everything was getting to her. The stress, the lack of money, how alone she felt. The night was the only time when she could fall apart - because at the mercy of the darkness, nothing could hold her together.

“Excuse me? Are you alright?”

Y/N bolted to her feet at the voice, having not heard the footsteps of its owner, drying her tears with two quick swipes as she took in the asker of the question.

He was a handsome Dwarf, with long blond hair in several braids. Y/N noted that his beads were plain silver - he courted no one. He seemed the sort with a persistent ready smile, though now there was only kindly concern in those blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Y/N lied. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” the Dwarf said. “And don’t apologise. What’s wrong?”

Sometimes, telling things to a stranger, who had no preformed opinions or knowledge regarding you, was far easier than telling things to your family. Y/N found herself telling him about the hardships of her life in the recent years. He listened well, and showed such believable worry and empathy that the darkness faded away.

He stared at the ground for a moment after she’d finished talking, evidently thinking about something of great importance. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said finally. “I know what it’s like to lose family. I haven’t been in the situation you’re in, but I can at least understand some of your pain. I have a younger brother, like you do - you understand how we’ll do anything for them.”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N found herself smiling at this stranger.

He dug his hand into the pockets of his large coat, and pulled out ...

“Holy shit,” she gasped, in a display of cursing that she didn’t normally use in front of strangers, but somehow, this man didn’t feel like one. “That’s-”

“Mithril,” he confirmed, handing over the stone. It was definitely larger than her palm, though not too big to hold with one hand. The metal was silver, but hints of all the colours imaginable were also woven through it, sparkling in the firelight of the street. “Sell it to the wealthiest vendor you can find - they will give you a lot for it. Enough for you to not have to worry about your siblings again. I can find you a better job, and another home, if you wish.”

He nodded towards the dilapidated structure they stood outside of - one storey, practically falling apart. 

“Why-” Y/N stuttered, confused. “Why would you do this for me? I am but a stranger.”

“Because I believe in kindness,” the Dwarf said. “I know its effect. And I know what loneliness feels like - when all you have are your younger siblings. You deserve better than this.”

“Thank you,” she said, tears swelling in your eyes again. “Thank you so, so much.”

She leaned forward, kissing the handsome Dwarf on the cheek, blushing furiously as she pulled back. His cheeks were also dusted with red, and a wide smile had stretched across his face.

“You know,” he said, studying her, and really taking in how beautiful she was for the first time. “I’m going on a quest. 13 Dwarves so far, but they won’t mind if you joined. I’ve got a good feeling about you.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, I’m not the adventure type. Besides, I need to look after my siblings. We’re all we have left. I’ll wait for you, though ...?”

“Fili,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it in an adorably gentlemanly fashion. “And I promise I’ll come back to you ...”

“Y/N,” she said, with a smile.

Fili stepped forward, and gave her a warm hug. “Don’t let the stress get to you, okay? Do things for you, not for them.”

He scribbled a quick note of recommendation for a better, higher-paying job, kissed her cheek, and left, humming a low, sweet song under his breath.

Y/N watched him go, clutching the mithril in her hand. And she couldn’t stop herself from grinning.

Maybe life isn’t so bad after all ...

@dark-angel-is-back​ i’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted! i kinda got carried away ...

EVERYONE REMEMBER THAT YOU CAN SEND ME ANY QUESTION AS PART OF THE 100 FOLLOWERS CHALLENGE!

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Son of A B****

Title: Son of Bitch Square Filled: Omega!Sam Ship (if any): Sam/Dean, Omega!Sam/Alpha!Dean Rating: T Tags: Omega!Sam, ABO, Mpreg, Backgound ABO Summary: Sam goes to see the doctor thinking there might be something wrong or that he’s too stressed, Dean thinks Sam’s just starting omegapause, turns out they’re both wrong Word Count: 2201 Written/Created for @spnaubingo

Son of A Bitch

“I’m sure you’re worried for nothing,” Dean said. “Just stressing yourself out.” 

“But it could be something,” Sam replied. “I’d rather just talk to the doctor and see what’s going on.” 

“Could be omegapause,” Dean mused. 

“…Are you saying I’m old?” Sam asked. “I’m not even 40 yet.” 

“Okay, pre-omegapause,” Dean added. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Saying that isn’t actually making me feel better, Dean. If anything it’s making me think about morality and wills and burial plots.” 

“But you’re not thinking about what could be stressing you out,” Dean pointed out. “You’re welcome.” 

Sam snorted. “The way your mind works will never cease to amaze me.” 

“Sam Winchester?” 

He looked up at the sound of his name and saw a nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room. 

“I gotta go, I’ll see you at home alright?” Sam added. 

“Everything will be okay Sam. And whatever it is, which is nothing, we will face it together. Like we always do,” Dean told him. 

Sam smiled a bit. “I know…Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Sam hung up as he stood and walked over to the nurse. “Right this way Sam. Since this is your first time seeing Dr. Sterns we have to do a couple routine tests for your file and then she’ll come in when we’re finished alright?” 

He nodded and went through the tests. He made a mental note to see about getting Dean to the doctor at some point. They were both pretty healthy, but it never hurt to have a doctor sign off on it. 

“Alright, I’ll take these samples to the lab and Dr. Sterns will be in a few minutes,” the nurse told Sam before stepping out. 

He leaned back in one of the chairs and tried not to let on how nervous he felt. He sat up straighter as the door opened and a young woman stepped into the room. 

“Sam Winchester? I’m doctor Sterns,” she smiled and offered her hand. “How are we doing today?” 

“Just trying to remember the last time I was in a doctor’s office,” he chuckled as they shook hands. “Moved around a lot for most of my life, so I’m more used to the whole free clinic, and urgent care types.” 

“Move around a lot for work?” she asked. 

“Something like that,” Sam answered. 

“Well, everything looks good, our labs are not too busy today so we should get those lab results back by the time we’re finished. I see you are a new patient with us, and you had a few concerns that prompted you coming in today. Why don’t we talk about those,” she said. 

“Right, uh it might be nothing, and it could just be me stressing out over nothing, I’ve been having trouble sleepy lately, and I’ve noticed that sometimes I get night sweats. I’ve also been getting headaches a lot more, haven’t been in the mood for sex much lately, my mate told me to mention that one, I’ve had some cramping on and off as well and some weight gain…I went online, and from what I’ve been seeing I guess I might going into pre-omegapause?” he explained. 

“If only all my patients were as thorough as you,” Dr. Sterns chuckled. “Some of the symptoms you describe can coincide with pre-omegapause. I see here you’re going to be thirty six soon, and it isn’t uncommon to start getting symptoms in one’s late thirties. However, what you’ve told me could also indicate pregnancy.” 

“Pregnancy?” Sam blinked surprised. 

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“You mentioned that you haven’t had your heat in a few months? When was your last heat?” she asked. 

“Mid May,” Sam answered. “And it didn’t last as long as it normally did. Usually it’s a week long this time it is a couple days. Three I think.” 

She nodded and wrote something notes down. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it your first thought was pre-omegapause and not pregnancy?” 

“Well…if it was going to happen for me, shouldn’t it have happened by now?” Sam asked. “I mean…I’ve been with my mate practically all my life, and we’ve always shared my heat together, when I was younger I used to take birth control, but as I got older I started having bad reactions to it so I stopped, and there are times when we’ve forgotten protection, we just kinda assumed kids were just not in the picture for us.” 

“Have either of you been tested to know for certain?” She asked. 

“We were never in one place long enough to really think about it,” Sam admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. “But…you’re saying there’s a chance I could be pregnant?” 

“There is a chance yes,” she nodded. “The blood sample will give us a more definitive answer.” Her computer chimed and she turned to look at it. “Which, it looks like we’ve got the results.” 

“I haven’t been this nervous since I applied to Stanford,” Sam smiled a bit. 

“Alright, let’s see here. cholesterol looks good, negative for any STDs or infections which is good, and the HCG levels in your blood are on the higher side, you are pregnant Sam,” she smiled at him. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

She turned the screen so he could see. “Normal HCG levels tend to be around here, but when you’re pregnant they’ll be around here, and get higher the further along in your pregnancy. In some cases, very high HCG levels could indicate twins or even triplets. Given your age, it wouldn’t be impossible for you to have fraternal twins.  Your hormone levels are a bit on the low side which could be playing a part in why you haven’t been feeling any nausea or morning sickness. That could spike the further along you get.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam sat back in the chair. “Sorry,” he blushed embarrassed. “I don’t mean to swear it’s just…the fact that I might be pregnant never even crossed my mind and then to find out I am, and that I could have twins…it’s a lot.” 

“Would you like to do an ultrasound?” She asked. “See what they look like? And it’ll tell us how far along you are.” 

“Uh yeah, sure,” Sam nodded. 

He got up and laid down on the exam table and unbuttoned his shirt while she wheeled over the machine. He shivered when the gel made contact with his stomach and watched the screen. 

“And there is your baby,” she turned the screen so he could see better and pointed. “Judging by the size, you’re just about shy two months, which means, you conceived during your last heat, which explains why it was so short. Generally once pregnancy takes, the heat is finished.” 

“Wow…They’re so small,” Sam was in awe. 

“Let me print you off a couple of pictures, and I’ll write down a list of prenatal vitamins for you,” she told him. 

She gave him some tissues to clean off his stomach and he sat up to wait for her. 

An hour had him pulling down the driveway to their house. After almost two years it was still weird to know they had a house to call home. A permanent home. He pulled his car in next to the Impala and grabbed the grocery bag off the seat and locked the doors before making his way to the house. 

“Dean?” He called as he stepped inside. “Hey boy,” he knelt down to receive a few kisses from their dog Zeppelin and Sam’s still not sure how Dean won that one one. “Where’s Dean huh? Where’s he at?” 

Zeppelin barked and ran over to the sliding glass doors that led to the back porch. Sam took the pie he picked up from the grocery store out of the bag and set it in the fridge. He was pleased to see the writing on it hadn’t smeared on the drive home. He hid a few beers and soda’s in front of it. And maybe that should have been the tip off. He can’t remember the last time he had an actual drink, as he’d been drinking soda and water a lot more. 

“Hey,” Sam stepped onto the back porch. 

“Hey,” Dean smiled. “How’d it go?” 

“Good, it was uh, it was good,” Sam answered. 

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Dean turned his attention back to the grill. “Figured I’d make kabobs for dinner. I even made sure to do a healthy amount of meat and veggies so you won’t complain this time.” 

“I don’t think meat on a stick by itself really counts as a kabob Dean,” Sam pointed out as he walked over. 

Dean wrapped his arm around him as he turned the kabobs over and leaned up to kiss his temple. “Well lucky for me, pretty much the whole world agrees that meat on a stick by itself does count.” 

Sam snorted and reached for a pepper. “I’ll go set the table. We eating inside or outside?” 

“Outside, the weather’s nice,” Dean answered. “Grab me a beer too would you?” 

Sam went back into the house and grabbed the plates from the cabinet and drinks for them. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Dean putting the kabobs on a plate, and tossing a few pieces of chicken to Zeppelin. 

He could already picture Dean standing at the same grill with their little boy or girl. Talking them through the intricacies of perfect grilling. Sneaking extra food to Zeppelin when Sam wasn’t looking. 

“I know you’re there Sam,” Dean said without looking over his shoulder. 

“He’s gonna get fat if you keep sneaking him food like that,” Sam said as he set the plates on the table. 

“He’ll be fine. Ain’t that right Zep?” Dean tossed the dog another piece before he turned off the grill and joined Sam at the table with a plate of kabobs. 

“I’ve never seen so many vegetables on your plate before,” Sam teased. “And such variety.” 

“At least I’m not getting a little paunch unlike someone,” Dean mused as he picked up his beer. 

My paunch is our baby, Sam was tempted to say, it was weird to think it but it made him feel warm inside. He knew deep down Dean had always wanted a family, and Sam had always felt a little disappointed with himself that he hadn’t been able to give that to Dean despite his claims that all he needed was Sam. But now he was pregnant, and as much as he wanted to tell Dean, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so instead he just kicked Dean under the table. 

“Ow,” Dean reached down to rub his ankle. “Mean.” 

They finished eating in mostly silence, comfortable silence that came from years of living in each other’s pockets and Sam pushed his plate away once he was done. He covered his mouth as he burped. 

“Excuse me,” he blushed. 

“I will take that as a compliment,” Dean grinned. 

“I picked up some pie on my way home,” Sam told him. “I put it in the fridge.” 

“Is it apple? I hope it’s apple,” Dean said as he stood up. “You want a slice?” 

“I’ll pass,” Sam answered. “But I’ll take a root beer on your way back.” 

“Must be some good news you got at the doctors. You’ve been smelling all good since you got home, and you picked up pie? If it weren’t the anti-possession tattoos I’d think you were possessed by a demon or something…Which reminds…me…” Dean’s voice trailed off. 

“Dean?” Sam leaned back to try and peer into the house. 

He stood up and walked into the house and found Dean in the kitchen. He was standing front of the fridge holding the door open. He was looking down at the pie in the fridge. Sam had asked the bakery clerk to write We’re pregnant on top of the pie in frosting. 

“Turns out it wasn’t pre-omegapause, or omegapause or stress…I’m uh. I’m pregnant Dean,” Sam told him. “We’re gonna have a baby.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said. 

“Yeah…my thoughts too when I found out,” Sam chuckled. 

“But what about…and all those times,” Dean said as he looked at Sam. 

“Stress…it can decrease infertility and the chances of conceiving,” Sam replied. “The last decade and a half has probably been a little stressful what with hunting monsters and trying to keep the world from imploding…you know, just normal everyday stressful things.” 

Dean laughed a little. “Yeah, totally normal stressful things…fuck, Sam this is…” 

“Good?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“More than good Sammy,” Dean answered. He set the pie down on the counter and walked over to Sam. His fingers brushed their bond mark as he pulled him down into a kiss and Sam melted into it. 

“This is amazing,” Dean said as he pulled away. “You’re gonna get so fat.”

Sam snorted and shoved his mate. “Screw you.” 

Dean just grinned at him. “I mean consider screwing is what led us here…” 

“Oh my god, just eat your pie,” Sam laughed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄11

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Alrighty, got this done. It’s more plot but we’ll have some more fun coming up.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

As you watched Loki, you could tell it was a struggle for him to restrain his anger. His voice threatened to rise as the smoke from Steve’s cigarette tickled your nose. You turned away from the two men and balanced the thick ledger in your arm as you searched for your phone in your purse. You checked the time and sighed. It was barely noon; a whole day ahead of you.

You could sense Bucky watching your every move as you glanced back at Loki. You paced along the curb, the seaside air rolling in from the boardwalk. Loki shoved his phone into his pocket as his eyes narrowed and he returned to his unexpected partner. He was roiling and rolled his eyes as he approached.

“Well…” Loki uttered. You could tell he was at a loss.

“A tour?” Bucky offered slyly. 

“I’m certain we might find our own way around,” Loki reached over and grabbed your elbow. You almost dropped the ledger as he pulled you to his side. “Get a lay of the place and see what needs most attention.”

“Well, we’ve done most of that,” Bucky pushed his hands into his pocket and shrugged. “We were actually just getting some stuff out of the way. Got a few rooms cleared out to set up shop.”

Loki’s jaw tensed and he shook his head. “I do not require an escort.”

“Ah, but I do need to consult with your bookkeeper on expenses,” Bucky countered. “We’ve done our calculations. My contractor was by last night and he gave us the basic cost of reparations.”

Loki’s lips parted and he glanced between you and Bucky. He raised his chin and looked down his long nose.

“Perhaps if she has a chance. I do require her for my own walk through,” Loki said. 

“I can wait.” Bucky smirked. “Didn’t take us very long on our own adventure.”

“If you can afford a contractor, surely you can afford your own accountant,” Loki scoffed.

“If she is to do the numbers on this place, that makes her an employee. So if she is to work here, she would report to both of us,” Bucky slipped his hands from his pockets and gripped his hips. “Or you can send her back to New York.”

Loki pursed his lips and his hand fell from your arm. His straight brows lowered over his eyes and made him seem sinister. He nodded and let out a low hiss.

“Very well,” He waved you past the two men as Steve tossed the butt of his cigarette. “We will have a look around and then you may consult with us.”

Bucky grinned, amused and stepped back and flourished his arm towards the front door.

“Oh, be careful of the east staircase,” He warned as Loki ushered you past with a prod. “I’d suggest taking the west.”

“Right,” Loki walked faster and you struggled to keep up with his long strides.

You heard Bucky’s chuckle as Loki tore open one of the double doors and swept inside. You barely caught the door before it clattered behind him and stepped inside. The place was lit with caged light bulbs hanging from industrial hooks, yellow extension cords strung around the dusty space.

“So…” You began softly. “Diablo?”

“He sold to Barnes before we closed,” He kicked aside a splintered piece of wood as he looked around. You stayed by the door as he paced. “Not that he mentioned that. In fact he did suggest he still held that fifty-one percent.”

“I… did warn you--”

“Don’t,” Loki pointed at you and peered over your shoulder. “Let us continue. We do have work to do.”

“Well, my work is to tell you,” You spoke over your shoulder as you continued through the broad doorway to a room occupied with broken tables and dead slot machines. “That this is going to run you a pretty penny and I doubt your partner will spare any expense if he knows it makes you unhappy.”

“I still hold my forty-nine,” Loki grumbled as he ran his finger along the grimy screen of a machine. “And speaking of my… partner, I trust you to gird yourself in his presence.”

“Oh, you trust me?” You sneered.

“You write his numbers in your book and nothing more,” Loki slithered as he turned to you. “And I see that buffoon of his watching you. Best stay clear of the pair while I am not around.”

“Like Thor?” You wondered.

“Thor,” Loki mused as he buttoned a single button on his jacket. “He might be of better use here given the state of things.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You frowned.

“He knows the business and if Barnes insists on having a personal lout at his beck and call, I should have my own,” Loki continued past you, his footsteps echoing around you. “Thor is harmless so long as I’m around, darling.”

“And if you should not be around?” You wondered.

“You might do yourself a favour and stay close,” He remarked. “Perhaps realise I’m better use to you than you think. Why, I should expect nothing but your admiration and gratitude. I could sell your life to any I see fit.”

“It seems of little real value to you,” You uttered.

“And if I did barter you to Barnes, do you think he’d treat you well? Treat you better? You think he’d not tire of you quickly.” Loki taunted. “You do not realise that while I enjoy your physical worth, I see as much in those left unseen. When I am finished with you, I will still require your other services.”

Your lip curled in disgust as you followed him into the next room. Another large hall, this one filled with decrepit card tables and a caved in bar below a sign lined with shattered bulbs.

“Or perhaps he would have you on a pole? Though I don’t see you should fare so well there,” He snickered over his shoulder and your cheeks burned. “This.” He pointed to the leaning bar. “Make a note not to keep the bar here. It must be made more accessible.”

You squinted at him. He so swiftly flitted from threatening to business, though he spoke of both topics with little emotion. You took out your phone and opened the notepad and typed away as he continued along the sprawl of tables.

Yet, you could sense that his coolness had become barely more than an act. He was truly perturbed by Bucky and the deception he’d been caught in. It was rare that Loki was the dupe and he was thoroughly unused to the role.

👄

Loki dusted off his hands as you returned to the front foyer. Voices bounced off the high ceiling and the two men who had greeted you without awaited you It had taken just over an hour to explore the entirety of the casino’s skeleton. You saved your notes as you trailed behind Loki.

Bucky smiled past him. You hated that. You knew his blatant attention only riled Loki; he was not one to be ignored or spurned. The men met with another frigid handshake and Steve tapped his toe impatiently.

“Just up here,” Bucky motioned up the wide staircase that faced the door. “We made some decent progress.”

Loki’s lashes fluttered dully and he nodded. He followed the two men up the stairs and peeked over his shoulder to make sure you were still there. You clamoured up in their stead and along the hallway at the top. At the end, two rooms had been cleared out, debris along their thresholds as the doors hung open.

“Your choice, boss,” Bucky said dryly. “They won’t be too hard to dress up and will serve as a base as we get everything else going.”

Loki swallowed and stepped forward. He peered inside each and chose the one with the faded old sofa which appeared to be a Prohibition relic. It was also the bigger of the two. Bucky’s lips slanted and held back a laugh.

“Well, then,” He looked at his watch. “Now that you’ve had your go, would you permit me to go over expenses with your bookkeeper?”

Loki peered over at you. He could say no but that would only goad Bucky. He could make an excuse but that was a show of weakness. He pondered only for a moment.

“I should sit in, as an owner,” Loki intoned.

“You’re more than welcome.” Bucky shrugged. “But I think you might have some calls to make. My attorney will be here tomorrow to go over our books and the intricacies of this arrangement. Oh, and while I trust my contractor, I know you are the type to prefer your own.”

Loki’s lips thinned as he considered Bucky. He was being mocked. He knew it. If he insisted on joining, it would only add to this. Bucky would know exactly how bothered Loki was by him and his interest in you. And, he did, after all, have a point. 

If they were forced to work together, they’d have to do so as peacefully as they could. Attorneys and contractors would provide both insurance for their investment and buffer between them.

“I can leave the door open,” Bucky offered coyly.

Loki bit back a growl and smiled.

“I expect detailed notes, darling,” He ignored Bucky and his slender fingers wrapped around your arm. “We will review them tonight.”

He surprised you with a kiss on your temple and you barely kept from recoiling. His hand fell from your arm and he brushed your ass as he nodded to Bucky and spun away. He strutted into his office and he slammed the door, a cloud of dust raining from the frame.

“He must be fun in bed,” Bucky snorted.

You said nothing and stared at the ledger. Steve laughed along with Bucky and you felt a brush along your lower back. The blonde henchman nudged you towards the office as Bucky turned away. You scurried away from him before his hand could fall lower and barely evaded him as you followed Bucky inside.

“You’re not gonna kick me out again, are ya, boss?” Steve asked.

“This is business,” Bucky said sternly and pulled out a curved back chair from the small square table. “Sit.”

He gestured to the seat and waited for you to take it. He pulled another around the side of the table and sat close as Steve dropped into a cushioned armchair. His legs splayed out as he hung his arms over the upholstery.

There was a thick black ledger under a stack of files in the middle of the table. You opened your own book as Bucky drew the other from beneath the pile and flipped the cover. He flicked through the pages and cracked his knuckles as he leaned back in the stiff chair.

He brushed his palm over his hair, a trickle of sweat along his temple. The air was still and warm. He pushed his sleeves up as they began to slip down his forearms and popped three buttons.

“You wanna get a window open,” He snarled at Steve.

The other man rose with a sigh and went to the boarded up window along the wall behind Bucky. He grunted as he wiggled the wood loose from the bent nails and tossed it aside noisily. The sunlight streamed in and made your eyes water after so long spent in the dim casino.

Bucky shifted in his chair and looked you over as Steve reclaimed his chair. He rubbed his chin and leaned an elbow on the table. Steve’s toe tapped on the floor and you stewed in the tension.

“You look… tired,” Bucky said. “He must be working you hard.”

“Mmm, I’m doing my job,” You evaded as you stirred around in your purse for a pencil before setting it aside. “So where shall we begin. Structural issues? Do you have your contractor’s estimate?”

“We have time, sweetheart,” He cooed. “How are ya?”

You shot him a sharp look then averted your eyes. Your throat constricted as you recalled the scene in Loki’s office. You knew they were thinking of it too.

“Splendid,” You said dryly. 

The chair creaked below Bucky as he leaned forward.

“I didn’t know Thor was there until after,” He said softly. “I shoulda had you come in through the back.”

“We’re here to discuss business,” You dragged your eraser along the edge of the page and avoided looking at him. 

“He hasn’t been too rough, has he?” He asked.

“What the fuck do you care?” You snapped. “It’s all your--” You closed your mouth and shook your head. “Don’t act so innocent when you’re here, carrying on in this little dick measuring contest.”

“Well, is he bigger?” Bucky chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and raised your chin as you glared at him.

“You’re awful.” You hissed.

“With my clothes on,” He touched your knee. “Maybe.”

You kicked out at him as you shoved his hand away. He caught your foot before it could meet his crotch. He stood and pulled you so that you had to latch onto the chair to keep from crashing to the floor. Your skirt slipped slightly up your leg and his hand pushed it further as he felt between your thighs. 

Steve’s figure moved in your peripheral and a purr came from him. You struggled with Bucky and he pushed your legs until they were almost bent against your chest.

“Look, I don’t wanna get you in even more trouble,” He warned. “These walls are as thin as Loki’s temper.”

He relented and you wriggled free of him. You righted yourself on the chair and fixed your skirt. Bucky sat back down and pushed his shoulders back.

“It’s okay. Even if he is bigger,” Bucky teased. “You know he’ll never be as good.”

[hmgfanfic]

Talk about all the Fillory worldbuilding in LQoF, please :)

THIS IS INEXCUSABLY LATE. I’m so sorry!

And I wish I could say it was just my scatterbrainedness, which is definitely a constant factor, but it was also that when you sent this, I was deeeeeeeep into writing the final few chapters of Little Quirks of Fate and I was kind of... in my head about it. It took a lot longer to finish than I had planned (a cardinal sin to my particular combo of severe ADHD and Type-A personality) and I was spending excessive amounts of time making sure I figured out a satisfying ending by my own exacting standards, so I just didn’t have the headspace to think through my early process yet. Very sorry about that :( But now that I’m finally done, I’m excited to look back! So if you’ll indulge me a very late answer, I’d be tickled. 💗

Long ramblings and major fic spoilers under the cut.

The truth is a lot the world building came down to character stuff foremost, followed closely by my preferences as a writer. I adapted the world to the story I wanted to tell, while using the little bits of information we’re given in canon as a baseline, rather than building the story around the world. And that was a lot more fulfilling for me, since I only really love worldbuilding through the lens of character, rather than as an exercise unto itself (though it’s super fun once you get rolling.)

To explain what I mean by that, you need to know that Little Quirks of Fate was originally going to be a oneshot. My plan was about 25-30k (lol) of a pure S2 retelling, only with Quentin in the role of Fen. It was also going to take a much more traditional enemies-to-lovers’ path—with Quentin as an active member of the FU Fighters—and the whole thing was going to be in his POV. Also, they weren’t even going to kiss until after the bank heist (which, yes, was going to be a thing here), but that got abandoned the fastest in favor of trying my hand at smut. But two things made me realize I needed to significantly shift course:

1) I was struggling to make Quentin actually feel like Quentin. I wrote this very atmospheric early scene at the FU Fighters encampment, with lots of description of the bonfires and the way their shirts dyed in Fillorian red looked like blood (you get it.) It took place in the black of night, shrouded in secrecy, and when Bayler questioned Quentin about his new husband, Quentin said something like, “He’s a drunk idiot, we have the advantage.” It was all very lush and dramatic, but it really, really, really didn’t feel like Q in any recognizable way to me. Now, I’m not someone who thinks Q needs to be a precious sweetheart all the time, but what I was writing didn’t have his idiosyncrasies or a motivation that felt true to who I feel he is.

2) The draft was DEFINITELY missing Eliot’s story and his perspective. I certainly don’t think Eliot’s POV is always necessary (sometimes not having his direct thoughts heightens tension in romance especially), but it felt really necessary here, to fill in the gaps of what Quentin was assuming and also—more importantly—because the events were just as impactful on him, but in a very different way. So I knew I was missing half the narrative, but that meant I would need to deal more explicitly with the Beast (i.e., Mike, the most devastating storyline to me, personally) and I really, really didn’t want to do that.

My first step in making a more recognizable Quentin was figuring out a way he could more or less use the same syntax that he does on the show. Voice is the first way I connect with a character, so while many writers in this fandom thrive at modifying speech patterns and keeping the heart of a character alive, keeping close to Quentin’s canon speech was an easy fix for me in a story I was excited to get rolling. Sort of like the old adage of uplifting your strengths before putting outsize energy into things you struggle with.

The easiest way I could think to give him the same syntax was to figure out a way Quentin spent some significant time on Earth during his formative years. And once I rewatched 2x06 and was reminded that Ess went to Phillips Exeter Academy for high school, I lost my damn mind. I started sketching out ways that Quentin could get there too and that’s how I built out the idea of Umber brokering a marriage deal with the actual landmass of Coldwater Cove, which included an education opportunity for the boys (in a nod to Fillory’s patriarchal nature), and also the reason why Umber did that, which was to take advantage of his brother’s orgy mistake with the first Children of Earth to usher in a more productive and orderly Fillory. So that created a whole new set of rules and essentially a whole new world for me to play with... all for the sake of Quentin getting to say “fuck.” It was that important to me. :p

And as I worked through all that, I realized I also wanted to give Q magic, since Quentin’s relationship with magic is something I’m interested in. But I had read on ye olde Tumblr that the reason Illario uses a wand in 2x06 is a nod to the books, where Fillorians specifically aren’t Magicians and that’s the rationale for the Children of Earth royalty. And while I generally see the books as interesting supplemental material with zero bearing on the television show canon, I still said to myself, “Self, wouldn’t it be kind of funny if Quentin was the only native born Fillorian who had magic and so the FU Fighters believe he’s the chosen true High King, but instead of it being because he’s ~special~, it’s because Umber made a clerical error? Lol! Hilarious!”

So while all my questions for how to explain all THAT spun out into more and more detail, at the same time...

I caved to the idea that this story was going to be a No Beast AU, just like my last two stories, mostly because I really couldn’t bring myself to deal with the Mike of it all, even tangentially. I could have just changed that single element, but I’m not a half-measure gal! But I still wanted to stick with the vague background theme of Fillory = adulthood from a questing perspective and I wanted Julia leading the charge this time, but without the sexual assault that occurs in canon. So obviously, the answer was avenging all of the murdered and cannibalized “grown-ups,” i.e., master Magicians, by seeking out help from the gods in a balanced Fillory free from the devastation of the Beast. Duh! ;)

So then, like anyone would do, I rewatched every episode up to 4x11 that makes a mention of Fillory and took about twenty pages of notes on the canon worldbuilding, along with an analysis of how much a particular piece of information would be impacted or not by balance in the realm. For instance, the existence of geraniums (per The Fillorian Candidate and Tick’s misunderstanding of “power plants”) and the lack of diamonds as a precious stone (per the River Watcher not knowing the value of Margo’s earrings in Knight of Crowns) struck me as static facts unaffected by Ember’s reign of chaos. But I shifted the overall feel of Fillory to one that’s more functional and a lot more bureaucratic, leaning on things like the existence of socialized health/vision/dental insurance (the idea of which is canonical, per a petition from the beavers requesting dental coverage from acting High King Josh in Ramifications), strict taxation plans, and an overall sense of thriving Ceremony to show Umber’s influence.

Basically, I wanted Eliot to inherit a much, much easier Fillory to rule—especially with the highly educated Quentin as a built-in and passionate advisor—mostly so it wouldn’t completely strain credulity when a lot of his energy goes toward his love life rather than the intricacies of ruling (though Margo would say he still favored his personal life more than he should have, and she wasn’t... wrong. He wants to be a husband more than a king!) But I specifically made it so most of the chaotic elements were played as whimsical (sorry) quirky shit or smaller hints of greater injustice (see: Ember getting rid of STDs, but still letting magic-poor citizens die of sepsis because that’s too boring to deal with), all while a cataclysmic danger lurked under the surface.

After that, I just filled in details as they worked with character stuff and plot stuff, and I tried to make sure they didn’t contradict each other in a way that couldn’t be chalked up to “chaos.” I basically lived with the Fillory map open all the time and also took screenshots of Benedict’s map of Loria, which gave me alternate ideas for the overall feel of the landmass rather than just the kingdom. And pretty much that’s the basic process I used to create the world! It was extremely fun, and I learned a lot, though I’m *definitely* focusing on some pure relationship kind of stuff for a while because... oof, sometimes it was a lot.

Annnnnnnd if you’re still with me, here’s some stray observations, for funsies:

I wanted Quentin and Eliot’s starting points to be more mature than in the show. Quentin when we’re introduced to him as an adult in LQoF is a lot more jaded and cautious than S1 Q, which is because in this world, his S1 mentality happened while he was on Earth and came to a head during the throes of his fucked up relationship with Bayler. Similarly, Eliot had already gone through a lot of shit too, and was much more self-actualized by the time he agreed to be High King here than in the show. It was still out of desperation for purpose, but not coming out of a direct trauma spiral. I think if they had been younger, both in age and mentality, the story wouldn’t have worked because they would’ve blown it up day two. They’re both still disasters, as we like to say, which is why the... everything happens, but they’re not disasters in the exact same way as in early canon. I thought of them as closer to their S3 selves, pre-Mosaic.

While I mostly kept Quentin’s syntax the same as on the show, I did change it up in some ways to reflect his Fillorian upbringing. The most obvious was replacing “goddamn” with “godsdamned” and “Jesus” with “Hades,” but I also made him slow on the Earth idiomatic uptake and slightly more likely to use passive voice and less likely to use contractions, especially early on and especially when speaking with Fen. He also said slightly out of date things even for someone who last remembered 1999, since Earth was still overwhelming despite his immersion. E.g.: In the epilogue, he asks Eliot if he can spend some time “Googling the World Wide Web” instead of watching Gossip Girl together, even though by 1999 most people were saying “on-line” or “the internet” by a pretty wide margin. But in my mind, the first term he learned was World Wide Web and he stuck to it like glue.

I originally had a full-blown coronation scene, where Quentin helped Eliot with the answers to the 90s questions via subtle charades, such as flapping his hands at his sides to give him the answer “Wings” (and Eliot was eventually going to Eliot-Logically use that moment to argue to Quentin that maybe Q really is the true High King since he was the one who actually answered the Knight’s questions, etc.), but I cut it and only showed bits and pieces in flashbacks because it didn’t really matter. They had to treat it seriously because it was An Event in this version of balanced/un-Beasted Fillory, with a full audience bearing witness, but the whole thrust of the external plot was about dismantling that moment and the concept of monarchy in general, so giving it too much weight outside of the Eliot and Julia friendship felt disingenuous to the story I was telling.

This is also why it was important to me that Margo hated the title High King Eliot the Kind, even though I only brought it up textually once or twice. But in my view, she fucking hated it and never came around to it. Which isn’t because she doesn’t think Eliot is kind, it’s that it felt like a simplification of all that he is, and the coronation ceremony in general felt similarly shallow. It wasn’t just the four of them working out their shit on the beach; it was true ceremony after a year of questing toil and a lot lingering uncertainty/resentments (especially regarding Julia), so it was too Big Shiny Happy Bow to her.

Yet on the same theme, my greatest regret was not being able to work in the fact that Margo’s title for Penny (King Penny the Persistent) was supposed to be half-sincere and half-sex joke. She did genuinely admire that he stuck it out even through his initial heartbreak because he gives a shit about his people underneath it all, but—and this is a very important headcanon to me—she admired his dedication to the art of the female orgasm even more.

I was originally also going to include the One Day More sequence with way more details—such as Umber taking the Javert lines, Ember taking the Thenardier lines, Bayler taking the Enjolras lines, and Penny taking the Marius lines, but... uh... writing a musical number is apparently not in my skill set. Also, honestly, the weirdness of the original is its whole charm and so I didn’t want to improve upon perfection. See also, in a more serious way: Eliot bowing to High King Margo on the Muntjac, the events of Plan B, and Quentin & Penny in the Flying Forest. Would not touch it!

My favorite Fillorian detail was either the guy who sent a citizen petition requesting a “smidgen” of Eliot’s earwax for an undisclosed purpose, or the use of the verb “to peg” to describe a Pegasus flock greeting an outsider with honor. They encapsulate the obscene yet pristine feel I always tried to give Fillory.

My favorite subtle(-ish?) ironic moment is Ess, the heir to a hereditary monarchy, taking Quentin to task for not honoring the anarchy patch on his high school backpack. In general, I don’t like everything being neatly resolved, including on an overarching world level. And I very strongly felt they had ZERO business meddling in Loria, so it left some fun-to-me unanswered questions. Will Ess usher in democracy for Loria based on his experiences on Earth? Maybe! Maybe not, since tradition’s a hell of a drug and Loria has its own history and complexities. Who knows?

I misread the town name Sutton as Sultan on the map the first time I referenced Bayler’s hometown (Sultan’s Ridge), but instead of going back to fix it, I just made it a sister town. Whatever!

I do not know how Quentin got a full bookshelf of Earth literature back to Fillory with him. Magic, I guess. (That’s the answer to anything I didn’t totally think through.)

I occasionally get asked whether Quentin and Fen were physically related. The answer is no, though it doesn’t totally matter. But I intended heart-cousins to be more like close family friends. (Though I actually originally had a joke where Eliot still wasn’t sure by the epilogue, but it didn’t land/feel realistic so I cut it.)

The details of the magic frequency poisoning were DEFINITELY what I thought through the least. My main goal was to have something catastrophic happen to Fillory based in part from the historical actions of the Children of Earth and Ember, patently ridiculously but with lasting consequences. Hence, god orgy that took away Fillorian human magic and sent out a slow poisoning of the overall magic “frequency.” It sounds all well and good, but it’s definitely something that would fall apart with even the lightest bit of prodding. It serves it’s purpose though, so I figured the gaps could be filled in or politely ignored. ;)

This question was way too much fun and a helpful retrospective for me! Thank you so much for indulging me, many moons ago. 💗

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Hi I was hoping to ask for your advice on writing. I’m trying to write from headcanons to little short fics (like one shots) from the readers pov but I’m finding it difficult to do so smoothly. Any idea how to do the transition without it coming out as a fanfic readers worst nightmare?

Well, I cannot guarantee the quality of my “advice” but I will give it a shot! 

Apologies for you folks that hate my big essay length posts, but I do love infodumping about the writing process :P 

So just click “J” to skip the post (if you’re on mobile...sorry just exercise your scrolling finger a bit more)

- - - - - - - - - - 

So I’ll start with the distinctions between a headcanon and a fic. On one hand, you got simpler sentences, that summarize a broader idea or scene. You might have visualized the entire thing in your head, but at the end of the day all you do is write down a few sentences or pieces of dialogue that give the broader basis of an idea and/or scene. That’s not to say writing headcanons is easy, but it is, bluntly, the simpler method.  

Writing, obviously, is more complicated. Not only are you trying to convey a more abstract idea to your reader, but you’re doing so with more layers and complexities, given that what you are trying to write is generally more detailed. You have to not only account for what your basic premise is, but the method in which you convey it. So, in a “good” fic, it typically doesn’t just focus on the basic “what is happening right now” in a scene, but can give subtleties and intricacies with its tone, themes, point of view, connotation, foils, imagery, symbolism, sentence structure, diction, context, figurative language, narrative, foreshadowing, setting, irony, character arcs, and the thousands and thousands of other layers that go into constructing story. 

And I say “story” there deliberately, as I think the best way to summarize the differences is that a headcanon is a plot, while a one-shot is a story. Your one-shot has the ability to tell different messages, details, and themes, and give several points of interest to your reader, while your headcanon is limited to the structure of its initial premise.

[And before you English nerds bash me for my definition of story and plot, please know that I am using my film teacher’s old definition, which (to quote this quizlet I found) is “Story is all of the elements of a narrative that are involved, both shown and un-shown on screen. Plot is only all of the elements of a narrative that are shown on screen.” So yeah, it theoretically could be rewritten as a headcanon is a scene, and a one-shot is a story, but I’m just nitpicking at this point half of you don’t care and want me to move on anyway, apologies!]

So how do you transition between them? Well, in honesty I don’t exactly have a sure fire way for you, saying I do would be very hypocritical. However, what I can do is point out the “gap” between headcanons and fics, and perhaps from there you might be able to forge your own path..? 

Chances are, if you’re already familiar with writing headcanons, you’ve already knocked out half of the work. See in a story, specifically in our case, fic, you have eight elements that construct it. You’ve got

Plot

Setting

Conflict

Character

Point of View

Tone

Style

and Theme

With a headcanon, (assuming it’s slightly more specific than “Headcanon that this character likes peaches!”) you’ve already got plot, setting, conflict, and character down. 

Plot: being the actual premise of your story. What happens, why things happen, how other characters react, the beginning and ending, etc.

Setting: Being the location and time of your scene/plot. The setting might be a contingency to your story, such as a prison break that takes place in prison, or maybe it is the time that is essential for your High School AU fic

Conflict: Typically goes hand and hand with your plot, although not always (obviously, plot and conflict aren’t essential when talking about fics, *winks at the nsfw side of tumblr*) But if your headcanon does have a basic plot, then it probably has some sort of conflict whether external (The Calamity kills everybody) or internal (you’re character is going through grief)

Character: This whole aspect is practically already done for you. Whether by canon from the video game or media you got it from, or perhaps by fanon, with the collective fandom agreeing on certain traits about your character(s) in question. Obviously, if you got an OC, that’s another thing, as you have to create their traits, and construct a believable way that that character reacts and makes choices throughout your plot, depending on how you characterized them

So congrats! In writing up your everyday headcanon, you’re now halfway there to making a full on fic! Obviously, 50% is still a lot, which is probably the reason you were seeking advice in the first place, so now we should move on to the other half, and arguably it is this other half of elements that give the entire distinction between a headcanon and a one-shot. So in theory, if you get these elements down, you’re on your way to writing that much faster!

Quick additional note: Another way to think of your headcanon is as an outline. While not in every case, a good way to jump from your headcanon to a fic is to stick with the major elements of your headcanon, and weaving your writing style in between. Think of the headcanon as your skeleton, and the story being the meat and muscle. Idk if that makes sense, blame my old English teacher for the metaphor

Alrighty, so for demonstration purposes I’m gonna use the very first headcanon I’ve ever written as a basis. Bear with me for a moment:

“Zelink Headcanon: Zelda Just Wants Some Snacks

Everyone always jokes and adores about how Link eats so much and cooks great food in the game (he’s gotta carbo load guys, he walks like 9 miles everyday!)

However I propose, equally hungry and feral Zelda

After Link and Zelda defeat Ganon, one of the first things they do is stop by the nearest cooking pot and eat

She hasn’t eaten for 100 years!! She’s gotta be starving!

Link just cooks up some meat skewers

“…wait I forgot the Goron spice, gimme a sec…”

But Zelda just immediately snatched it off the fire and eats the whole thing in two seconds

Link keeps trying to go out of his way to make really nice food but Zelda is just like “I DON’T CARE RIGHT NOW PLEASE LINK”

So yeah, their first date is basically just Link cooking Zelda a buffet until his inventory empties out”

Again, this headcanon has already given us half of the answers. 

We got our plot: Link, a talented chef, is cooking food which Zelda scarfs down without fear and hesitation

Setting: They are by a cooking pot, perhaps in the wilderness, away from the prying eyes of nosey villagers. This takes place sometime after the initial defeat of Calamity Ganon.

Conflict: Link keeps trying to cook “good” food, but despite the Princess’ royal upbringing, she has no care for the whole “show” of cooking with spices and garnish. She is starving, willing to eat anything

And Characters: Link and Zelda. You know... (Today unfortunately is not the day in which I construct a thorough character analysis of the two...perhaps one day...)

So, now that we have this, we start adding the meat and muscle of our story with point of view, tone, style, and theme. These elements, could be summarized as your writing style. Yes, writing style is more intricate than those four elements alone, but they do fit in with its broad definition. 

So, in essence, a way to transition between headcanon and fic is to find out what kind of writing style you’re comfortable with. 

How do you do that? Well... shocker, I know, you gotta write. 

Write first, plan the elements of your one-shot later!! 

Allow yourself to write complete utter garbage. I know you said that you don’t wanna create a “fanfic reader’s worst nightmare,” but if you become more concerned with the quality of your content before you even start writing, you will never ever ever get anywhere. You’re gonna be stuck in writer’s block for eternity, so just let the garbage and nightmares out and write. You’ll never improve if you don’t have something to improve from, you feel me? 

So, now that your mind is open and ready to write anything, whether garbage or gold, let us dive in to the parts of your writing style. 

Point of view: Do you prefer writing in third person? First? Second? Each have their pros and cons. Second person is good for your “x reader” inserts. First person is good for your narrator’s characterization. Third person is good for describing elements of your surroundings that might not be inherently obvious to your characters or audience. There are hundreds of other pros and cons to the different POVs that you can search up online, but it’ is ultimately up to you to decide which method you like best. 

When you find the method you like best, make sure you use it to it’s full potential! Use foreshadowing with your third person POVs. Use connotation, and diction to further characterize your narrator in first person. Elevate the mood and senses of a scene when in second person.

Tone: Now, this element is often confused with another literary device, mood. The difference being that you as the author have more control over the tone, than the mood. The tone, is the attitude that you as the author (or as a character/narrator, depending on your POV) have towards something. For example, your tone might be suspenseful if you withhold information from your reader, or if you have a certain choice of diction. It is typically better to look to the type of genre you’re writing for to identify what kind of tone you want. 

Mood is the feeling that the reader experiences from your writing. It’s really much more simple, a beloved character dying give a depressed mood. A cute couple hanging out will give the reader a happier mood. This is your angst and fluff feelings, if you will. (Although, please remember than mood and tone are not a binary thing, it is a spectrum, as broad and diverse as the capabilities of human emotion)

Style: Ok yes this is a bit meta, me explaining how to use style to help you construct a writing style. Blame the bendable definitions of the writing world. So just think of this as the face of your writing. The more obvious and apparent part that is unique to you and your personality. 

Think cake. Your story is a delicious cake, it is a chocolate, Zelink cake. Now, your style is the way that you present this cake. Pink frosting? Yellow? A full cake or just a slice? Chocolate ice cream cake? Chocolate lava cake? Five tier cake? Cake pops? These possibilities are the infinite ways your style will present the story.

Style, sometimes called voice, is the combination of your use of tone, mood, POV, syntax, diction, and other literary device that you commonly use in your writing. This isn’t something you learn, it’s just something you do naturally when you write. It’s what readers will like about your fics, because they like the way that you use this or that, or the way you describe this thing or that person. It’s something that can change and improve over time, but in essence, it’s what readers can read and identify as you, without even looking at the username.

Style isn’t something you have to remember, per say, like other literary devices, but it is something to be aware of as you should try to keep it consistent through your whole story. Sometimes have people have different writing styles depending on their own mood, or what they’re writing about. That is fine, so long as you keep it consistent through your whole work. A good trick for this is to listen to music that fits with the style of your writing. Use that one catchy love song whenever you’re writing cute headcanons or fluffy one shots. Use that anime opening theme for your adventurous fics and fight scenes. This way, you are keep in a consist atmosphere and your brain will be in the “Oh! It’s time to write ____ stuff!” mood. 

So just be aware of when you’re in a descriptive style, a narrative style, argumentative, or whatever style you like using. You style might even derived of the way you already create headcanons!

Theme: This is a big one. Have a cohesive theme can easily bring any story from good to great! I like to think of it as you’re story’s destiny, or reason for existence. 

Theme is an outlier for the other elements in that not only is it not necessary for your fic, it is also not necessary for your writing style either. It’s really not necessary... at all. Yet, people always use theme in their writing, even accidentally. 

Theme is your story’s underlying message, or lesson. Yes, yes, if you paid attention in your basic English class you probably already knew that, but this is a big pet peeve of mine. 

The theme of your story isn’t “true love,” the theme isn’t “innocence”, or “failure”, or “trauma”, or whatever. Theme isn’t a broad idea, it’s a specific question and an answer. 

For example: The theme of Breath of the Wild isn’t “exploration” or “time”. The theme is there is always something to seek and find, so long as you have the curiosity and courage to find it. The theme is despite the eternities of time, we still found each other. 

Your theme shouldn’t be a broad, one word answer. What about love are you trying to convey? What specifically about failure are you saying?

Theme is the entire reason why the entertainment medium exists, because artist found a way to create something compelling and interesting while also connecting them to real life things. 

When you give your reader something to really chew on, even days after they finished reading your fic, then you did a brilliant job. Essentially, you want to use theme in your story because it is what will stick with our readers even years after they’ve read your work.

While that’s all sentimental and sappy, that’s still not your biggest problem, is it? You still need to practice, you still need to learn how to use the things you’ve learned to actually write. So, a summary of what I advise you should do.

Look over and improve your old headcanons, and keep making more! Keep making headcanons and litte prompts, and let them grow bigger and bigger, and more desprictive. This could help you ease into actually writing paragraphs a bit more

Find out what you like to write. Yes, you probably already have a fandom in mind, but think back to those first four elements. What types of plots are you comfortable with, what settings, characters? Genius is only the work of enthusiasm, if you don’t like what you’re going to write, you’ve already failed

Write, write, write. Practice, practice practice. Let yourself write complete and utter garbage and nonesense. Then read it over. See what you don’t like about it. Then change it and write again. I MEAN it when I say you should write garbage. Write a completely terrible, nightmarishly cringe scene. See what you don’t like. Then rewrite it again. Repeat, repeat, repeat. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be a scene or something from your fandom. Let it be your description of a shirt, let is be some cringy poem from 7th grade. Just write and learn how you like to write. It will be so much easier in the long run

Read stuff. The stuff you read usually seeps into how you write. When you get used to reading things a certain way, you usually unconciously try to imitate it when you write. So, got a favourite fic writer? Read their stuff over and maybe even analyze the elements you like (again, think back to those eight elements I talked about) and hey, writers like it when you analyze their stuff so maybe even hit them up and talk? We like book reports we swear, most of us don’t bite. 

When you finally think you’re comfortable with your writings, maybe think about what kind of themes you’re into, or what kind of messages you want to say. It doesn’t even need to be that complex. Could be as simple as “I love this ship because it shows that you can still have flaws and be loved” Again, themes are the rEASON for eVERYTHING in the entertainment world

For further demonstration purposes, I’m going to come up with further elements for a hypothetical fic I would write based on that Zelink headcanon. So I’ve got the plot, setting, conflict and theme down. Hmm... I’ll probably use a third person POV as that is what I’m most comfortable with. With third person, I can better highlight the descriptions of Link and Zelda’s surroundings taking in the atmosphere and the aromas and and tastes. The tone will be more happy, focusing on the fun of Zelda and Link’s banter, I’ll try to create a mood in which the reader is laughing along with them, and enjoying the scene. My style will be more descriptive, again with the tastes and smells and other senses of the scene. However, I might go into a more narrative style for Zelda and Link’s banter and dialogue. While typically some people don’t want to use two different styles, I am personally familiar with the styles and know how to write them so as to blend them together more seamlessly. I might have a hint of angst at the end of the fic, as a little climax, given that the setting of the fic is after the defeat of the Calamity. I might through in some themes about how it wasn’t the material power of Hylia or the Master Sword that saved Hyrule, but the courageous and wise bond between Link and Zelda. Then...idk, a little romatic kiss for resolution because this is a fic and I can throw in some fanservice because my writing my rules. 

Babam! I just converted a headcanon to a fic.

So yeah, go write your headcanons. Then maybe next a paragraph. Then next a scene, and then you’re well on your way to one-shots and chapter fics. Happy writing and good luck!

[coasttocoastreads]

City of Brass//S.A. Chakraborty

★★★★★ / ★★★★★

Summary in One Gif:

Real Summary: Nahri has never believed in magic. Certainly, she has power; on the streets of 18th century Cairo, she’s a con woman of unsurpassed talent. But she knows better than anyone that the trade she uses to get by—palm readings, zars, healings—are all tricks, sleights of hand, learned skills; a means to the delightful end of swindling Ottoman nobles.

But when Nahri accidentally summons an equally sly, darkly mysterious djinn warrior to her side during one of her cons, she’s forced to accept that the magical world she thought only existed in childhood stories is real. For the warrior tells her a new tale: across hot, windswept sands teeming with creatures of fire, and rivers where the mythical marid sleep; past ruins of once-magnificent human metropolises, and mountains where the circling hawks are not what they seem, lies Daevabad, the legendary city of brass? A city to which Nahri is irrevocably bound.

In that city, behind gilded brass walls laced with enchantments, behind the six gates of the six djinn tribes, old resentments are simmering. And when Nahri decides to enter this world, she learns that true power is fierce and brutal. That magic cannot shield her from the dangerous web of court politics. That even the cleverest of schemes can have deadly consequences.

After all, there is a reason they say be careful what you wish for 

Pros:

BEAUTIFUL

INCREDIBLE

THE CHARACTERS

THE WORLD

P E R F E C T I O N 

Cons:

I’m sad.

Plot: 5 / 5

This is the book I’ve been searching for. I’ve been looking for the story to suck me in since my quarantine started in mid-March, and THIS IS IT. The beginning of Nahri messing around in Cairo, to her travels, to Daevabad. The TWISTS!! The TURNS!!! Some of it I was able to piece together, some of it I wasn’t, all of it was amazing. The difficulty of figuring out who is in the right? Which side is the right one? Which side is anyone one? Who is a traitor? Who is loyal? Is it better to be loyal or a traitor? WHAT IS THE TRUTH!!!

Pacing 5 / 5

I could not put this down. I literally sat in my backyard from about 11am to 5pm when it started to get cold-ish and I read this. The only reason I did not get sunburnt was having the good sense to put on sunscreen BEFORE I started it. I DEVOURED this book. The absolute mastery of pacing allowed us to go from Cairo Shenanigans, to A Grueling Travel, to Political Maneuvering to Climactic Action PERFECTLY. With such different settings at times, it would stand to reason that it could get choppy, but it DOES NOT. 

Worldbuilding  4 / 5

This is the only place where I felt like this book wasn’t perfect. But I think thats more of a me problem than a book problem, I definitely felt a bit lost at times with some of the cultural stuff, and it took me a bit to sort of… catch up? With some of the intricacies. But it was still pretty dang good. Daevabad was beautifully constructed, and I really did feel like I could picture what was being described. I think some of the mythology took a bit to put together, but by the end I definitely knew what was going on for the most part.

Characters: 5 / 5

Would I die for all of them? Yeah. Maybe. Nahri? Check. Ali? Check. Dara? Check. I think the best part about it, was that they are all incredibly flawed. Nahri is dragged kicking and screaming into a world she doesn’t understand, and knows nothing about, and she doesn’t just, catch on immediately like protagonists sometimes do in books like this, she struggles, a lot, but she uses the skills she has to figure it out. And she messes it up, and there were times when I was shaking the book and just sighing exasperatedly because uhg Why Would You Do That!!!?? But I think thats part of what makes a good character. Likewise, both Ali and Dara are incredibly, incredibly flawed, and they are diametrically opposed, but I somehow??? Like them both??? So much??? Both of them believe so strongly, and they both truly believe they are doing the right thing, and yet they question themselves, and we as readers question them. Is Ali really doing things for the right reasons? Has Dara been honest? Can either of them be forgiven for the things that they’ve done? Are they responsible for their actions under the circumstances? All questions both the reader, Nahri, and both Dara and Ali ask themselves. I LOVE them ALL. 

I’d recommend for:

Are you in your early 20s and only read YA and don’t know how to move on even though you no longer relate to protagonists that are 16? Have you been overwhelmed by the prospect of wading through adult fiction to find the ones that have the same feel? WELP I DID THE WORK FOR YOU! 

READ IT. 

Would I travel here?

Hell yeah, already packed my bags. 

Overall Thoughts:

I liked this book so much, that if its not available from my library literally RIGHT NOW, then I’m going to BUY the next book. I’m so upset that this has been out since 2017 and I’m only reading it now. Like literally devastated. Also, Tiff just told me that its getting a netflix series apparently and IM TRULY LIVING.

See you next week!

Katya

Spoilery Rant under the cut:

WHO IS TELLING THE TRUTH? IS DARA BEING CONTROLLED BY SOMEONE? IS HE REALLY DEAD? WHAT IS ALI GOING TO DO NOW? HOW IS NAHRI PLAYING THE KING? IS SHE PLAYING THE LONG GAME? WHAT ARE THE DAEVA PLANNING? ARE THEY THE GOOD GUYS? ARE THE SHAFIT? AREN’T THEY BOTH BEING WRONGLY PERSECUTED? GIMME THE ANSWERS? WHAT HAPPENED TO DARA? IS NAHRI ACTUALLY SHAFIT OR NOT? IS HER MOTHER ALIVE? WHAT IS HAPPENING I NEED TO KNOW!!!!!!

[indigosprite]

Kokuyo Gang playlist

I might have been wondering what Mukuro was listening to ... it’s the story of them.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0suBJCS45RNDb3HG3Hm5P3?si=AxrMLwgzQcixl8yn3eNP7g

1. Adventure time theme: Mukuros “shall we go together” when he saves Ken and Chiksua with his massacre of their Mafia Family.

2. Freaks: Mukuro is telling them what they’ll be in the world as he plots his revenge. They finally enter the real world as Freaks, although they’re the ones wronged people still hunt them because of their affiliation. He reclaims the insult and promisies himself victory.

3. Broken: They find Balance and bliss in their pain amongst eachother. This is their unspoken bond. The original trio. they are each others people, although they’d never express this. Their Brotherhood is stronger and more valuable than anything else even to Mukuro. They’re happy with what’s become of them so far.

4. Sweater weather : This is Mukuro, he’s reflecting on his life with Ken and Chiksua and the small intricacies of their relationships. It’s platonic and almost fraternal. Despite this being a song about a romantic relationship this is the most intense feeling of love he has in his life this song captures that. On the flip side this is how Ken and Chiksua view Mukuro. They’re enamored and grateful , he’s like the guy asking the loser to dance at a party to make them feel better. Also Mukuro is a little. You know.

5. Train wreck: this is their time apart from one another after Mukuro has let himself get captured by vindice. Mukuro is depressed ( as told by his drama CD he sees no light in the world. He’s accepted this though) but he’s left with his thoughts. He wants to see them again. Ken and Chiksua miss him miserably, (this song at this point in time represents chromes hidden Bullet chapter ) this is around the time Mukuro is seeking out chrome to pull him out.

6. Famous last words: the band is back together even though it’s not in the flesh for Mukuro. Mukuro has a newfound light in his eye, he’s determined more than ever to reach his goal with these people beside him and Tsuna as his target. They’re wreaking havoc across the mafia unafraid of being captured again because they’re fighting for something bigger than them. Also Mukuro wants to live and it’s the first time he’s felt this in a while. He’s improved since Lancia asked if he’s mad at the mafia or exhausted that his soul can’t rest in all his lifetimes filled with nothing but murder and abuse. This time his soul would rest happily.

7. 1-800-Close your eyes : The gang has been busy for ten years with chrome as their Mukuro. They’re just as violent and ruthless as before trying to right the mafia worlds wrongs. Mukuro is orchestrating this madness in his cell happily. Ken and Chiksua are happy to be close to having him back again.

8. Kings Park: this is how they all see the world. They have always been entangled with the sins of the world. At first unintentional but now it consumes them even though they won’t admit how it gets to them and Mukuro won’t admit that sometimes he wishes he still believed in this world and saved it instead of trying to take it over. They’re obsessed with tragedy but in the end , they want forgiveness for what’s been done. They know this won’t come but that’s okay this is more about coming to terms with what they actually want. They want peace but they also want people to pay for what happened and what keeps happening.

9. Never ever getting rid of me : Their group is complete, this is a more whimsical side of them. The side that’s still just teenagers. (Based in the Very last arc and after) They are promising to the Vongola that they’ll never be that far away now that Mukuro has had a weird realization. He doesn’t mind being the mist guardian but he will always fight for what he believes in his way. Although Mukuro isn’t suddenly a good guy his agenda has taken a turn that no longer makes him an enemy much like Byakuran. They couldn’t take over but they are still on a mission. He has his own matters to tend to and in the future him if Tsuna does as promised their goals will align and he will be a loyal friend.

10. Angels and demons : they’re back together all of them in the flesh. This is where my headcanons come in. They somewhat have a more relaxed life with a much more feisable goal , they bring justice to a world in a way vindice doesn’t the mafia never respected them so they give fuck all about their rules. They’re on a break now that their futures have been given back to them. They are back to being rambunctious rascals with new ambitions that lead them down a gentler path still filled with murder and schemes but against the right people. Mukuro won’t make the mistake he made with Lancia’s family now. He won’t end up like the future Byakuran at the hand of another nice family that has somewhat taken him in yet again.

11. Ride: They’re headed in a new direction and they’re all at peace for once in their life. They, for once are as normal as anyone could be having been through what they had. In this time they find what it is they want from this which ultimately is to repay Mukuro for the deed he did. Ken and Chiksua realize Mukuro hadn’t saved their lives for them to be subordinates. He wanted them to have normal lives outside of the mafia. He never expressed a dire need for them to achieve his one goal but because they followed he did what he could to watch over them. But between the lines he tried to leave them alone enough to be kids while he slaughtered grown men.

12. lost boy: this shift in morale brings them back to when they were all saved by Mukuro and what their life has been so far , what Mukuro means to them. He is home, their Peter Pan. Although it might upset him that they chose to follow him in this life (aside from chrome. He knows he took her in and essentially promised her a home in his life) it’s something they can’t give up, this life isn’t the picture perfect one he wanted for them but it’s what they want. They wouldn’t be happy without what they’ve built. This is them coming to terms with and accepting the life they’ve lived albeit confusing and painful at times. It’s home. They all want to be his lost boys. He never meant to be a prophet the responsibility eats away at him makes him consider his actions for the wrong reasons but still.

13. Violent Crimes: Mukuro is reflecting on what he’s given them over time. He’s worrying about whether he saved them or just put them in a parallel lifestyle that’s no better. He doesn’t want them to feel how he feels (like there is no light). Kanye’s verse, rather than worrying about daughters growing up in this society it’s more about Ken and Chiksua and chrome who aren’t like him mentally or physically trying to live this life beside him. He knows they live solely for him and it’s scary at times because he’s picked his carnage filled path already. He doesn’t want them to not see light and offer more pain. Don’t grow up like he did knowing the truths of the world before he could find light in it on his own. His version of light is darkness. Theirs still have a chance. Knowing he is the only one that can prevent this he alters his path a little taking in what’s he’s learned about the world through fighting alongside Tsuna and Dino against real evil. They won’t be your best friends but his family will not be a stain like his previous family.

Holy shit this was long. And nobody will ever read it but I needed to do this for the next person who gets obsessed with them ten years from now and looks for think pieces to consume about them.

[ma-gic-gay]

A few hours, two kisses, and one nap later, he begins plotting his escape. It mainly consists of signing a discharge form and then hunting down Cyrus. Then, he'll kill him. Fairly simple, and does provide a good distraction from the chaos his personal life has become. His business/mob life has been fairly normal, no new competitors yet.

"What are you planning?" Carly asks, looking up from the iPad she's probably planning Morgan's return from the dead party on.

"How long until I can get out of here?" Hospital rooms inspire him to run very far away from them. They keep him cooped up, they're boring as all hell, and there's really no choice as to who can walk in at any given time.

"Probably tomorrow," she answers and he groans. "It's not the end of the world, Jason. It's one more night in a hospital bed." Debatable. It's a whole twelve hours, minimum.

"Or I could just sign my discharge form now and break out of here."

"No, you need to stay at least for tonight. Break out tomorrow."

"I don't want to."

"Just let them monitor you. Sleep. You won't be able to do much out there anyways. I'm pretty sure the doctors are going to tell you to relax and take it easy, which means taking a short leave of absence. Brando can handle it for a few more days."

"There could be a takeover-"

"Not without any talk. Come on, if I thought there was any threat, I'd be breaking you out of here myself," she reminds him. "Take a nap."

"I'm not sure that's the best decision." Actually, it's more time that he'd be a suspect in Cyrus's murder (that, rest assured, he will commit) and more time Cyrus gets to breathe the same air as him. "Stop the thoughts about it being unsafe because you're not going to be able to do anything. You're recovering from surgeries and a gunshot wound."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing everything," he responds, fidgeting again with the stupid IV. He'll break that thing out of him if that's what it takes.

"I'm sure you are, but stop pouting. Sleep. Take a nap. Enjoy your break from reality for a day or two and just relax," Carly reasons. You know it's bad when Carly's being the reasonable one.

"This isn't pouting, it's captivity."

"No one's holding you captive."

"I'm being forced to be in a room against my will. This could be a hostage situation," he says dramatically.

"Well, as cute as your pouting is, you're spending the night. Take a nap. Enjoy it," she smiles. "Oh, and by the way, you're not killing Cyrus."

There's a lot to take in there but we'll start with the obvious: "I didn't even say I was planning on it."

She rolls her eyes, "You didn't have to, I can see the plan formulating in your mind. No murder. Cyrus will live for the rest of his miserable life in prison without you sending someone to rough him up or kill him."

Sometimes it's a shame how well she knows him. It genuinely sucks sometimes because she can read him like a book. No matter how successful he is at hiding everything from, well, pretty much everyone else, she just rolls her eyes and lets him know exactly what he's doing. Half the time, she knows before he does. The other half, she's informing him it's normal to express your emotions.

"I don't think he should even be able to walk around," he admits, struggling somewhat to voice the hatred he feels for the other mobster. "I've wanted to kill the guy for years, ever since I laid eyes on him. Going after you, kidnapping and raping you as some sort of sick revenge against me was the last straw."

"It was stupid to go after me and he'll pay. For the rest of his life, he'll be in prison. Solitary, you said. He can't run his business in solitary. Cyrus will never be able to hurt me or anyone else again," Carly says, grasping his hand and squeezing it. "He's a piece of shit. I look forward to the day he's in jail, serving his sentence. But it's probably going to be a few weeks."

"Which provides plenty of opportunity-"

"He lives. You're not going to jail because of him, Jason. Cyrus isn't worth it, alright? I don't care if he dies tomorrow. If you go to jail, I'll have to break you out of there myself and that probably won't go too well," she laughs at that. "So, save us all the paperwork and don't kill him. Besides, I confronted him."

She- confronted- "You did what? Carly, that is a man who could kill you and threatened to! He's very much capable of keeping that threat! Did you want to die?"

What inspired her to go confront her kidnapper/rapist? What made her think that was the sane thing to do while he was unconscious in a hospital bed?! She could've died and he can't have that happening because it'd be his fault. It's also such an ugly thought he can't stand to think of it. Carly cannot die.

"I brought guards, I threatened him, I yelled and screamed, I also cried for a while," she summarizes. "And to answer your question, I don't have a death wish. There's children I have to take care of and I'm not done complicating your life yet. I've got at least ten more years left in me."

"You confronted a man who could kill you."

"With guards, Jason."

"That doesn't make it okay! Carly, you can't act like there wasn't a good chance you could've died! You can't reason with people like Cyrus, you can't go in on your own."

"I. Brought. Guards."

"And they could've died too. He took out a whole group of them once, an entire warehouse of the Novak crew."

"You're acting like I didn't know what I was doing! I knew exactly what I was doing and it was either that or wonder if you'd live to tell me I'm being stupid again, Jason. Which choice would you have made?" Carly asks, tears building up in her eyes. No, he's mad, don't start crying. That'll make him sad. No crying, Carly, please don't. "I'm not so unknowledgeable when it comes to the business, you know."

"No, but you don't know how the business works. Things like that, impulsive things, they get people killed! They're the things that cause people to die and not the type you can come back from. You can't be doing things like that and pulling stunts like threatening Cyrus. He has nothing left to lose, which means he has everything to gain. If he can kill you, which is what he wants to do, that'll be a win for him and a final way to get back at me. That's what he wants and you're playing right into it." Jason exclaims. Emotional outbursts are rare for him, which probably made the point more clear. He hopes so. Losing her-

That's a thought almost too painful to bear thinking of.

"I was worried you would die! Jason, I couldn't spend another hour in this room or getting harassed by Sam. I needed to do something, make some statement," Carly argues and he shakes his head. Does she not get it? She could've died.

"And you couldn't go to work at the Metro Court? You had to go and confront a man who wants you dead almost as much as he wants me dead, Carly! It was stupid. You could've died."

"I was safe-"

"You don't get it! Doing that, no matter how many guards are there, isn't safe. I don't care if you had the place full with guards, he wants you six feet under and he wants me even further. What if he shot you? What if he hurt you? What if he killed you?" Emotions just seem to flow out of him like water does down a river at this point, anger and hurt and worry and sadness all combined into one.

"He didn't-"

"Not this time. Next time, he could. You could've gotten hurt or killed or shot at and I'm not going to be the reason for that."

"Well there won't be a next time."

"How can you be so sure about that, Carly? You don't control him. He's his own person; he does what he wants, exactly when he wants, exactly how he wants. And he could've hurt you."

"Every single time you agrees to one of those meetings with him or left to go, seemingly, anywhere, I thought the same thing. He's tried to get to you a million times. But you didn't die."

"I didn't die because I'm aware of the intricacies of the business! You're not and, as much as I'm grateful you're not, I can't have you running around picking fights with people who want you dead, who want me dead."

"Do you want a fake apology?" Carly snaps. "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't know that? I'm all too aware of the fact that everytime I leave the house, I could get shot at and die or that everytime I see you it might be the last time because of your line of work. I am intimately familiar with the anxieties of waiting in a hospital room to see if you're going to wake up or not from yet another injury. You're acting like it's my first day as someone who cares about people in your line of work and you're wrong. It's not. I knew damn well what I was doing and I know you would've done the same if they'd shot me."

Well. He didn't think of that. Anger sort of half drowns inside of him, flopping but still very much there at her beyond dumb move. "You're right. I would've killed him if he'd shot you or hurt you. But that doesn't make that you get to go out and pick fights with him because you're worried. It means you've got to be careful, stay in groups. It means-"

"Don't tell me what I should've done."

"What would you like me to do, congratulate you? Congratulations, Carly, you could've died! You could've died and if I woke up to that knowledge I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd keep surviving. Probably throw yourself into the business even more, to a point I don't think it'd be healthy." Carly shakily says, clearly having thought about it. "You'd tell Donna all about me when she started to forget I existed."

"You've thought of this?" Jason asks, incredulous. "You've thought about what I'd do if you died?"

"When we thought you were gone, I thought about what you would've done if roles were reversed."

There's a solid 20% chance she's pulling at his heartstrings right now to get sympathy and it's working. 100%. She could be completely playing him and he'd believe it at this point.

He hugs her as best as he can in the hospital bed. "I wasn't dead. You're not dead, thankfully. But you can't take risks with your life, not like that. Your kids need their mom. People need you. I'd miss you."

"How nice, I sobbed myself to sleep for weeks because you were gone and you'd miss me." Tugging at the heart, yet again.

"Oh come on, Carly. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah I do."

It's a strange bond they've got (and a strange life he's got), but at least they can count on one thing: their friendship. Hence why kissing and stuff can't mean anything or complicate things. They've been in each other's lives so long, if they dated or something and it went south, he doesn't know if they could bounce back. And that's a terrifying thought, that they could be,,, not friends.

To be continued after I change my tampon and sleep because I'm fucking tired :)

@ryleighjosephine

[justforbooks]

The 10 most inspiring, enjoyable books about how to write

“Most people know what a story is until they sit down to write one,” the great short story writer Flannery O’Connor once wrote. When it comes to good writing, we can tend towards a romantic vision of it being an unexplainable, inimitable act of divine intervention. It can be inspiring – and often unpalatable – to be reminded that the best writing is more often the result of of hard and constant work.

Even if the last thing you are planning on doing in lockdown is writing a novel, here are some of the best guides on writing: how to do it, how it works and how to be inspired to start. There were plenty of books that did not make this list that I would still recommend as entertaining, stirring and useful for would-be writers, such as The Writer’s Chapbook (a collection of advice given by authors in the Paris Review, which seems to be out of print now), Tillie Olsen’s Silences (important but not stuffed with practical advice) or Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life (ditto). And as any successful writer would say, the best thing you can do to learn how to write is read, read, read. But it couldn’t hurt to try a few of the following, too.

1. On Writing by Stephen King

Who better to learn from than a man who went from living in a trailer park to being one of the bestselling authors in the world? While some of King’s advice could be considered common sense (write every day, don’t presume to be smarter than your readers, read more), the details of King’s own life (alcoholism, car accident), his punishing schedule (2,000 words a day) and his no-nonsense humour (“The road to hell is paved with adverbs”) make this a very readable guide. So many authors credit On Writing as being instrumental in becoming a paid writer.

2. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Another classic of the genre. Lamott – an author and creative-writing teacher – focuses on the inherent value of writing, even if it is never shared with anyone, never published, or never makes money. The lessons she shares with her students, who “kind of want to write but really want to be published”, are refreshing – such as the maxim that all good writers write “shitty drafts”. There are good practical exercises, too.

3. Release the Bats by DBC Pierre

A relatively new addition to the genre by the Booker-winning author, who recalls anecdotes from his colourful life (“hellraiser” is an apt description for Pierre) to explain the intricacies of good storytelling. There are some real gems (his tale of finding children living in the attic of his family home is astounding) and there are some tips you won’t get elsewhere, such as: “Weed is a writerly drug … it is the drug of choice for staring at a blank page and watching stories grow out of tangents.”

4. Draft No 4 by John McPhee

Just as journalists such as Hunter S Thompson and Tom Wolfe pioneered the flashy, challenging and sometimes infuriating “new journalism”, McPhee was shaping an equally influential form of nonfiction while writing for the New Yorker: quieter, equally literary, blending fastidious accuracy with novelistic storytelling. This collection of essays is warmly reassuring and instructive, and worth buying for the essay called Structure alone, in which McPhee explains how he plans long and complex nonfiction works.

5. The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Yes, there is more than a whiff of spiritual cheesiness in this guide to “recovering your creative self” – Cameron uses “God” as a stand-in for creative energy, which might ruffle some atheists – but it has helped everyone from Elizabeth Gilbert to Martin Scorsese. Several authors I have spoken to swear by some of Cameron’s exercises, particularly “morning pages”: handwriting three pages of stream of consciousness before tackling any work, in order to get the day-to-day baggage out of your mind and focus on creative thinking instead.

6. Letters to a Young Writer by Colum McCann

Last year, I met the Let the Great World Spin author and he immediately began nudging me to write a novel. Whether it was the wine or sheer politeness, I was intrigued to meet an author who seemed so buoyed by the possibilities of other people’s writing – so when I heard about this book, I had to buy a copy. Broken up into 52 short pieces on everything from opening lines to procrastination, it is not so much a manual as a “word in the ear”, as McCann puts it. Crucially, as a creative-writing teacher, he dispels the notion that you have to have a qualification to become a novelist: “In the end nothing will matter but the words on the page: who cares if they came from an MFA or not?”

7. Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman

Having written screenplays including Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, All the President’s Men, and novels such as The Princess Bride and Marathon Man, Goldman could not be a better teacher. While this guide sometimes favours gossipy entertainment over practical advice, authors have said they appreciate its lessons in ruthlessness – and one of the last chapters, titled Before We Begin Writing, is brilliant for writers of all kinds.

8. Story Genius by Lisa Cron

Cron’s lengthy subtitle – How to Use Brain Science to Go Beyond Outlining and Write a Riveting Novel (Before You Waste Three Years Writing 327 Pages That Go Nowhere) – tell you everything you need to know. She uses neuroscience to explain why certain books keep us up reading into the early hours and why others bore us to tears. No matter how beautiful your writing is, if your protagonist doesn’t have an internal struggle, Cron argues, readers will not care. She then explains how you, a writer, can use that to hook and hold readers and get everything right by draft four or five, instead of 14 or 15.

9. Steering the Craft by Ursula K Le Guin

“This is not a book for beginners,” the late, great queen of science-fiction writes at the start of this book and she isn’t one for hand-holding. There is no advice on rejection letters or finding “God” here, or even advice on plotting or characterisation. (If you are after that, you’d be better off with King.) Instead, Le Guin provides useful exercises to encourage writers to improve their work at the sentence level, including one called Chastity: write a page of descriptive narrative prose, without adverbs, adjectives or dialogue.

10. The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr and EB White

Finally, the grandfather of writing books. Written by the Charlotte’s Web author (White) and his former English professor (Strunk), the duo don’t teach you to kill your darlings so much as massacre them with a big smile on your face. Omit needless words. Avoid a succession of loose sentences. (Read: too many commas.) While some writers would bridle at such concrete edicts on what makes “good writing”, others have credited the book with helping them gain clarity and shed affectation in their writing.

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