#anyway I don’t talk about my original works very often unless I trust people

[blackbirds-on-the-marsh]

[ID: a screenshot of the reply “same with physical disabilities tbh.” End ID.]

when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people

the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to

[talenlee]

Decemberween '23 — Decay!

There’s a very real consequence to being my friend, in that I will bring you terrible things to point and laugh at, unless you make it clear I shouldn’t.

Twitter has been a strange part of my life, in that it is simply put, a bad space and the actual reach and improvement it gave my life, while tangible, is hard to quantify versus the effort it took. I try to think of it less as a product I spent my labor on and more a play space I used, and try to ignore the ways in which whatever chemistry drove that place also absolutely scrubbed layers off me in the process of its operation. But Twitter is something I think of as a site I used, and my account only persists so when someone inevitably links me something because they’re not off the site either.

Anyway, one of the friends I made on Twitter was Decay, and Decay is great.

I don’t really know what Decay ‘is’, like if you ask Decay what their title is, what job they have, they wouldn’t give you a ‘oh I’m a software engineer’ or something. In fact, I think Decay starts with ‘an anarchist’ and then moves on to refer to their job as ‘computer toucher.’ But also sometimes I’ll see them show up like ‘hey, sorry I went quiet for a month, I was building a stage that we set on fire’ or something like that.

Decay is one of those many people who I think of as ‘my cooler friend.’ And I maintain this relationship by periodically dropping into discord a link to something the dumbest person on earth said today, with the same energy of a roommate finding something terrible in the back of the fridge that neither of us remembered putting there, and insisting, ‘oh, you gotta smell this.’

I don’t do this with most of my friends. That’s not how I deal with Doc, who I show cool movie clips and funny things I find about guns in anime. That’s not how I deal with Fox who I sent video of pandas falling over. It’s not how I deal with Karen, who I send scriptural verses for our shared Bible study group. But Decay? Nope, Decay is the kind of cultural raccoon who loves when I can bring them a moment of Alex Jones faceplanting on air and leaving fifteen seconds of dead air when an academic expert refuses to play along with his lies.

Part of it is also just a matter of a common internet age. Decay and I probably started on the internet about the same time, but their original experiences were more social and a bit less focused on, y’know, #Christian-Chat-Canberra. We’re both veterans of the USENET newsgroups, we’re both familiar with the Forum Days of the internet, and yes, this is to a degree ‘two old people on a couch mad about a thing on the TV’ nonsense. But it means that there’s someone I can talk to, who I can bring opinions to and who I know doesn’t need me to explain to them how computers worked in, say, 2002.

Look, Decay is one of the most fluent speakers of Senior Cardgage I know.

Decay knows more than I do about computers and math and anarchism and a lot more about political theory and the realities on the ground of American life and politics. And you need people like this that you can talk to, you need to be able to talk to in a private space where if you say something unhinged, a friend can say ‘hey, that’s unhinged, here’s what you’re missing.’ And that’s important to me, because even if my emotional reaction to something is real and exists and feels like it matters, often I’m basing it on something I don’t truly understand.

But okay, I think Decay is great. I love and am proud of them. I am grateful they’re my friend. I trust them to kick me in the teeth if I’m being an asshole to people. But what does that mean aside from the general taunting from me of haha look at this I have a friend and I have put effort into maintaining a relationship and sometimes that involves reaching out to start a conversation, nyeh.

This is Decemberween, though. This is a chance for me to celebrate people who I love and why and not necessarily do it because of the hash tag content. But if you are interested in things like complex math, Decay has written some EffortChosts about those, and a useful guide to how hat size relates to danger in Touhou, which you can see on Cohost, if that’s a platform you use. They also have a website of their own where they’ve produced some writing about topics like The Brown M&Ms situation from the Van Halen tour.

Decay is also just an invaluable sounding board for me making sure I can explain my academic work to a person who isn’t about to quote Foucault in common conversation unless they have to. Just from our conversations, I have such gems as:

“Hon hon hon, je suis so raciste zat i fuck up my own thesis” where Decay had crunched through Caillois and found the part where Caillois in a book explicitly argued for European colonialism but then also universal liberation in the name of global communism.

“in anino ths tieh,” where we tried to get an AI image generator to do anything with the phrase ‘anarchist meme.’

“Haha dude don’t bogart the suicide juice,” where we found the story of someone taste-testing a friend’s end-of-life drugs at an assisted suicide.

“system clocks are bloatware,” where Decay explains to me just how some people relate to their operating systems

“Verdi’s Pitch,” where a major figure in right-wing politics espouses the idea that literally all music is wrong.

Multiple times when I approach with a math problem that seems to be the halting problem. Or the time I asked a question about combinatorics that resulted in us winding up in the territory of Open Problems in Cryptography.

Decay rules! Decay is cool and funny and great! And thanks to Decay, this year, I learned about LIGMA!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[astelren]

Magi HCs to you giving them a surprising kiss on the forehead

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: Fluff, With a bit of Angst, Gender Neutral Reader, I talk a little bit of their past nothing too spoilery though?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ Minors please interact with me only by liking or reblogs. ➳ Characters: Kouha Ren, Judar

⤠ None ⤟ Magi Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟

Anon requested: Hi dear! How are you? Can I ask you about Judar and Kouha's headcanons where a gender neutral s / o surprise them with a protective kiss on the forehead? Thank you!

Aaaa magi💕💕💕 good memories, good memories... I miss it quite a lot surprisingly, Kouha my sweet boy sigh sob - This is a rewriting of my old work, originally posted on @/severnrsstuff (now severnr0ses).

✧˚ · . Kouha Ren

Well, well. Somebody wants to be romantic, uh? Kouha is surprised and taken aback, he didn’t expect this! Usually, he is the one who protects people or gets attached to people like a koala, not the other way around

So, at first, he’s very confused and taken back, it takes him a while to fully understand what is going on but then Kouha would smirk and hug you really close, giving you little kisses on the face

Telling you how unfair you are!! Don’t surprise him like that, you give him a scare! And now, as payback, he has to kiss aaallll over your face and you can’t complain because Kouha isn’t going to let you go soon anyway!

But, for some reason, he seems a little... off. Did you do something wrong? Before you can ask, however, Kouha starts bragging about how cute you are, how lucky and happy he is to have you.

Everyone that knows him well enough can tell that something is off, but he won’t answer, preferring instead to change the topic, acting like the normal Kouha that everybody knows.

He will probably pout a little bit before demanding other kisses, holding you even closer, waiting for you to kiss him again like you did before. It might become a new routine between you two, with him silently begging you to kiss him once again

Later he’ll watch you sleep right next to him in bed, with a distant look in his eyes. In a way your gentle and kind gesture really made him understand how lucky he is to have you

Poor Kouha it’s not used to be the one being protected, and he is... Weird out over how safe and glad it makes him feel. Sure, his brother protect and help him, but a lot of stuff he had to do it alone.

For once, being the protected one, don’t have to constantly worry about stuff made him feel relaxed, even if it was a little while. Kouha hopes that he makes you feel the same way you do, protected and safe

You should expect him to give you a lot more gifts and cuddles afterward, as a way to constantly tell you how much he appreciates and loves you. Kouha gets worse in his jealousy and protection, only wanting the best for you and making sure you are always safe and secure

✧˚ · . Judar

Judar.exe stopped working. First of all, how dare you kiss him. Second of all, how dare you be this cute.

Judar's brain is trying to understand what happened, and also what he is feeling right now. He’s happy, scared, and lonely. Judar doesn’t remember his parents, and he never really had someone that truly loved or cared about him

And even if he had somebody, he found himself stabbed in the back. There was no point in trusting people, unless Judar wanted to get even more hurt. So his reaction is a mixed one, mainly at first or if the relationship is pretty new

A blush would appear on Judar's face, angrily asking why you always do strange and weird things, commenting on how weird you are, but hugging you closer to his body with his hands slightly trembling.

A brat lmao

He loves the kisses, believe me, but he would never actually show it, especially to you! So you must know him very well to tell that not only did the kiss affect him a lot, but it also made him very happy. Which is pretty obvious.

He kind of expects you to do it pretty often?? Because it makes him feel a lot more safe, secure, and relaxed. Obviously, if you are going to ask he will simply deny and change the topic immediately lol

You made Judar a lot more affectionate (in his own way), possessive, and jealous about you though! He might be a lot more pissed towards you sometimes, in a way he's expecting you to betray him in one way or another

But like you spending too much time with one of the princes is already unacceptable for Judar. How dare you, he’ll throw peaches at both of you with a grunt of his face while clearly pointy more peaches at the other person and not you

Kiss him once again like that and it's fine, he's content and still a bit angry

Sleeping with him is now impossible; mostly because Judar can’t ever let go of you now, having and feeling your body near his it’s making him a lot more relaxed, and will actually wake up if you get up

This work belongs to @/astelren, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[shanastoryteller]

on one hand i’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while, and on the other hand i’ve been avoiding it for the massive potential it has to go from us having a conversation to devolving into the most annoying discourse possible

but i got another comment that just broke the camel’s back so i’m going to talk about it anyway

a lot of things i see people are saying are “wrong” in untamed fanfic are actually just translation preferences and just because someone chooses to translate something differently than you doesn’t make it wrong 

first, before we get into what i’m talking about, we have to talk about what translations are and the motivation behind them

translations are taking something from one language and making it understandable and consumable in a different language 

this can be as big as the differences between chinese and english or as small as the differences between british english and american english, which are considered different enough that books published in both places will have words and phrases translated to make them more digestible to the population it’s being marketed towards 

there are few different ways someone can translate something

there’s a direct translation, which is just finding the closest applicable word and plopping it in there like a smarter google translate 

there’s translating to preserve the intention and cultural significance behind a word/phrase as closely as can be replicated in the foreign language

there’s translating to convey the vibe/feeling as closely as can be replicated in the foreign language

there’s not translating at all, which doesn’t technically count, by definition, but is brought up often enough that we’ll talk about it

there’s an infinite number of ways this applies, but for simplicity’s sake, and because it’s the one people keep bringing up to me, we’re going to go with jiujiu / maternal uncle 

because i don’t speak chinese, my first job is to gain some level of understanding about what this word really means in the original language and the way it’s used. only once you understand that can you make a semi-educated choice on how to translate something (since most of us aren’t fluent in the language or culture, semi educated is about as good as it gets, but for smaller words like these i think it’s easy enough to get most of the needed context). so we need to start off with: maternal uncle, respectful, people don’t use names to differentiate between uncles like we do in english, using first names and/or birth names is either intimate or disrespectful depending on circumstance 

now, the simplest way to translate this is just as uncle. in english, referring to someone just as uncle is a little unusual, but common enough that this works as a good translation all around. if one wants to translate the maternal aspect of it, then “uncle lastname” works pretty well. the issue with that is that naming convention only ever happens in english maybe with grand uncles or “uncles” that fall more under shushu than jiujiu, so if i was translating it then that’s something i would avoid, because i wouldn’t want the readers to think that the characters have a less close relationship because o this, but it’s something that’s easy enough to do without distorting the original meaning so i think it also works 

if the character only has one uncle 

but we are, specifically, talking about jin ling here 

so if he’s talking about both jiang cheng and wei wuxian in the same scene, and referring to them both as uncle, how do we differentiate them? 

uncle wei and uncle jiang work here, because they’re both maternal uncles but they have different last names, which is really just us getting lucky in this situation. but it presents the problem we have earlier. 

to an english ear, that creates distance between jin ling and jc/wwx. if i want to show them as being close to an english speaking audience, that’s not a translation i personally want to use 

the most obvious solution is to then have jin ling refer to them way most english speaking people would refer to their uncles (that’s not just straight up having him call them by the their names, which is what i actually think is most common. i only refer to my uncle as uncle when i’m talking ABOUT him to someone else) which is “uncle first name”

however first names also present a problem in untamed because of courtesy names and because courtesy names are used ahistorically and inconsistently in canon 

wei wuxian uses jiang cheng’s birth name but jc doesn’t use wwx’s. wwx is basically the same age and lower in rank than jc, so it would make sense for jc to call him wei ying in turn, but he just ... doesn’t. same for jiang yanli. she’s arguably the one wwx is closest to and has the most positive relationship with through out the show and she’s older than him. it would make a lot of sense for her to call him wei ying, or even a-ying to mirror the way she calls jc a-cheng rather than calling wwx a-xian. lan xichen calls lan wangji by his courtesy name rather than birth name, and i’m pretty sure lan qiren does the same to both his nephews, which doesn’t really make sense to me in world

i think the real purpose here was to give wwx and lwj names that they only call each other for special intimacy reasons rather than to create a consistent more in the untamed universe

however, going with that and jin ling obviously being so much younger and wanting to retain at least some of the respectfulness that would be inherent in the original language, i do think that uncle wuxian and uncle wanyin are good translations 

u n l e s s 

see the thing is that jin ling refers to wwx as “wei ying” before he knows him as a way to be disrespectful to him because he believes that he killed his parents. i personally like the symmetry in him shifting to calling him that in a positive manner to make up for him calling him that in a negative manner, which isn’t something that can really work in chinese, but can work in english 

as for jiang cheng, probably because the story is told from wwx’s pov even in the show, we’re used to seeing his birth name rather than his courtesy name, and honestly no one uses his courtesy name unless he’s being a bitch. because of this, the use of wanyin creates a cognitive sense of distance that the often used wuxian just doesn’t. so if someone uses his birth name for that reason, i think that makes sense too. so i think uncle ying and uncle cheng can also work 

there is, of course, just using jiujiu and trusting context to take care of the rest, but that’s less a translation choice than it is just choosing not to translate 

i’ve done different things in different works with different contexts. in rotten work specifically, i had jin ling refer to jc as just “uncle” because i imagine that’s what he’s been doing for 16 years with no other maternal uncle, and because he’s the uncle he’s closest too among all of them, and i wanted to reflect that. i have jl refer to wwx as “uncle ying” a little bit because of the reasons above, but also a way to stake a claim on him to everyone and to demonstrate that they have a close relationship before the really have one as a way to partially shield wwx and to goad those around him (plus a bonus plot reason that doesn’t get revealed until the final chapter)

my point here is that there’s a lot reasons why someone could choose to translate something one way versus another. i used this one thing as an example, but this same thought process applies to lots of things 

you do not have to agree with everyone’s translation choices, or like them, or think them appropriate. but translation is by its very nature imperfect and there’s a lot of different potential reasoning behind people’s choices and i really don’t think there’s one perfect way to translate something and that all other ways are wrong 

[variousqueerthings]

When i was writing it i also kept think about blindfolded Hawkeye, all evidence really does point towards him loving it...

He really does get lead and pushed around so often, I'd love to see someone's take on how it contrasts with his control and responsibilities as chief surgeon. Even outside of surgery, the contrast of him being with someone and then having a nurse or doctor coming in to ask for help or giving him an update on a patient and how he can swap between both mindsets ect.

I firmly believe that Hawkeye would valiantly try to be had by all of the nurses if given the time and opportunity. And any attention is good attention is the sort of mindset that Hawkeye would take and then promptly act like a terror until he got the attention he wants. I feel like he wouldnt have to do this with bj as much as others but he does anyways just to be a problem.

Margaret's a strange one bc it would make sense considering her personality and Hawkeye's interest but like, idk. I think its too much of a contrast in my head from his refusal to show her respect as a major, their relationship in the later seasons (in my head) hinges so much on their views of each other as equals and i think the power dynamics would be a mess.

Its kind of funny how they have Hawkeye acknowledge how sexist some of his actions were when i feel like i always remember there being more women in those earlier seasons. I might be misremembering but i feel like if theyre going to do that they could at least make female characters more core. Like not every woman has to be plot relevant to be featured.

Aro Hawkeye my beloved <3<3 I get him, he loves his friends so much it hurts and also is so so horny. He deserves to be held gently and then absolutely railed and then held again.

-majoranon

(listen okay sometimes I get worried that an ask is too personal or inappropriate so i hold off sending my name with it but the fact that you knew it was me is so funny. What tipped you of?)

Alright, post the first out of... maybe three (maybe four)! (the others of which will be about women in MASH and much shorter I think + blindfold Hawkeye + some more aro talks beyond this + idk, sometimes you’ve just got to see where the typing takes you)

THE FIRST THING I DO IS APOLOGISE FOR THE RAMBLES AND THE FACT THAT I COULD WRITE THIS BETTER AND MORE SOURCED IF MY BRAIN WAS WORKING AND I HAD TIME... I don’t, I’m sad....

I’d originally put your message into bits and was answering them one at a time, but then everything started being about a few of the same things, SO

trust me this all comes from your message 😂 

This post: aro Hawkeye 🤝 aro Margaret and my actual dream relationship on the show (or, you’ll never guess where this meta/headcanon is going, or maybe you will, idk)

ALSO KNOWN AS: I make the argument that Hawkeye and Margaret are already in an aromantic life-partnership and so her occasionally topping him is really just a part of the benefits for both of them (but also I barely make the latter half of that argument, I’m sorry, I go all over the place with this one)

I think (and I mentioned that in another post) that Hawkeye being chief surgeon and Very Good at his high-stress job is a feature in this entire (somewhat jokey, but also haha kidding... unless... you know?) headcanon -- lots of people with those kinds of jobs want to get to shut off any decision-making/responsibilities outside of that space and we see that a lot with Hawkeye (in a non-sexual sense). He really really hates being in charge when it’s not about the job 

I just rewatched Carry On, Hawkeye and I love how there’s that scene where Margaret is like “I should be in charge now” and Hawkeye basically goes “absolutely, have at it,” but because she’s so used to him being contrarian and bitchy with her, she thinks he’s arguing that she shouldn’t 

and it gives us this interesting line:

and then in the same episode having just given Margaret the reports she needed, if we’re going for the “Hawkeye and strong women/Hawkeye and I’m just a little guy/Hawkeye and putting himself on the table” well...

literally.... on the table....

(Margaret if you’re in charge you have to get used to a lanky weirdo lying about on your desk, that’s just who he is)

and then of course:

S I R (mr alan alda, you cannot tell me this guy has never been topped by a woman (we leave domming out of the discussion for today kids, but youknow.. it’s Margaret, she of the riding crop and vibrator))

Anyway this takes us neatly into “Margaret and Hawkeye” territory... 

*

1. first there’s all this stuff around sexuality and gender and romance and relationships happening between those two -- Margaret and “sir” and incorrect womanhood leading her relationships to not work and being openly sexual (and highly suggested dominating), Hawkeye and calling himself “aunt” and being a motherhen and all the being pregnant jokes, and being stepped on jokes, and “joking” about being married to men, etcetcetc -- 

of course the crux of which is that amazing conversation they have in “Stars and Stripes” in which it’s made textual how similar they are in their ideas about relationships. One of the main reasons I like to hc them as aro is that the way they phrase it is so... vague.... they can’t pinpoint why it never works out for them, time and time again, other than “they can’t change who they are,” and they’re looking for a “custom fit,” but at least with Hawkeye he’s been shown to “fall in love” with people very fast (Erika, Kyung Soon, Inga, etc) and (due to the nature of syndication) get over those relationships again/fall in love with someone new just as fast -- and a note on Erika is that he’s literally suggesting marriage and she’s the one to shut him down (in an also very aro way)

not to mention Carlye whom he proposes to have been in love with for years/never gotten over, but when given the chance for a do-over doesn’t leap at the chance... again because of vague “you choose your job over romantic relationships” reasons (any aromantic who can relate to that reasoning/has literally scoured for historical people who were described that way, raise your hands) 

with Margaret you do get the sense that she’d wanted these relationships/that she invests in them, but that the men can never accept her as she is (which Hawkeye does -- and he doesn’t even do it on purpose, to begin with they’re scratching and clawing at each other as we all know), so you see, she’d love to be in a romantic relationship if only she were a completely different person, but alas she can’t be and so she’ll never be a correct woman (again, any aro who’s felt that connection between brokenness and incorrect gender and aroness raise your hands...) and to stretch that one even further, the imagery in “Dreams” of her in the wedding dress with those bodies of men in her bed and the miscarriage-looking blood-stain, it’s all... very evocative of that same incorrect/broken woman, who will never get those things that society promises are what brings happiness that she won’t have and maybe doesn’t even want, but what’s the alternative being offered here? 

dead bodies and a lifetime of being alone?

*

2.  I think it’s interesting that you said that because Margaret’s and Hawkeye’s later relationship hinges on them being equals that the power dynamics would be a mess, when that respect is actually the very thing that makes me think of them being perfect for each other in this scenario – there’s a lot of trust and vulnerability that goes into that, especially considering aforementioned gendered expectations and the ways they both already fuck around with them, and how well they know each other at that point. And if I’m gonna take “Inga” at face value, Hawkeye isn’t as out about his (in this headcanon) preferences as one might have thought, so being vulnerable with a stranger? Or someone who isn’t as under his skin as Margaret is?  

What I do wonder about is whether later seasons Hawkeye is… all that interested in sex? Overall? Comparatively? Sure, there’s the occasional “Hawkeye has a date” or “Hawkeye does some flirting (with friends),” but – I will go more into this in my next post about women in MASH – when he talks to Marina in opening s10 about how he’s not treated women right in the past + has seen too much to ever be wide-eyed again, it is both good reasons to blow her off, and also something I definitely read at face value.

It also goes into something someone said on a post (I’m sorry I cannot remember where) about how later seasons had less sex, but also less homoeroticism hand-in-hand with that, but also that it’s just that the tone is overall – for Hawkeye more than any other character (he frequently gets The Narrative end of the stick, while everyone else is having a bit of a laugh) – less light-hearted at that point, and also it may have had to do with how they wanted to write the women who did come on the show (again, for next post). My point is that it all adds up to make him seem both Really Really Tired and Much Less Interested In Sex, and then as a consequence gives it a fun read of maybe he's less interested in sex, because he’s so damn tired?

In that scenario is he looking for an occasional fun time with his good friend Margaret Houlihan who maybe would step on him wearing heels (a thing he has canonically lamented her not doing at one point on the show) if he asked nicely and called her sir? Or is it that by the time they become good enough friends that he might trust her and she might trust him with these sexual and gender transgressions, he’s not in a place to try and make anything like this happen at all, because he’s just… tired?

But overall, I do think out of anyone at the 4077th… except for maybe Klinger (and also Sid, if we’re going beyond-but-adjacent), Margaret is the person who might be able to accommodate for Hawkeye the best, and Hawkeye might be able to give Margaret something she doesn’t entirely know how to balance with other men (the one downside is that technically Margaret would wanna be doing something like this with a guy like Trapper – bigger/more traditionally outwardly masculine, but it’s not like she doesn’t find Hawkeye attractive/I don’t think it would be a total dealbreaker – anyway, also smthinsmthin Hawkeye and Margaret are often attracted to the same kinda guy… as for women, I think Hawkeye is pretty broad, while Margaret likes Strong Women (similar to the men))

Meanwhile Margaret, it feels like, has prepared herself for this lifetime of loneliness, except she’s got this family all around her and maybe this guy who’s also not looking for normative relationship structures and is also Not Correct in vague, unspoken (queer) ways. But maybe, again, around the time where it could conceivably be going on, neither of them are in that headspace or maybe they can get each other out of the more tragedy-filled-careening-towards-the-end-of-the-narrative headspace, I can’t say for sure until I’ve finished the show

and speaking of that unknowable space...

What about after the show then?

*

3. So here’s some stuff I can’t know until I’ve finished it -- I don’t know where Hawkeye ends up and I don’t know where Margaret ends up (or anyone else for that matter), but I do think they’re the two characters who are the most conflicted at this point and likely will be right through to the end 

Margaret has made a choice to not get into a romantic relationship with anyone unless they understand her as she is, and so to all intents and purposes has practically sworn off romantic relationships -- this is also framed as her putting her career first, although not entirely. It’s more like she’s putting herself first, but also… there’s something there that doesn’t quite fit. It’s certainly more possible for her to stick with the military than to conform to a housewife ideal, because she’s been with the military her whole life, but she also no longer idealizes what it is and stands for. I really do wonder where she’ll be by the end and I sort of assume she’ll stay with the military, but I also read that somewhat through the lens of disappointing, but expected romances.

Because she’s changed a lot. I don’t think the military really is her home, but I don’t think she knows of anywhere else to go. So I wouldn’t be surprised if she stays with it – I think it would be in character – I just think it would be bittersweet. Better than a marriage, but also not as good as she could do if she could unpack some more of those vague ideas that niggle in her brain (it’s queerness, but not just that, but this read of her is based around that aromanticism in particular).

And meanwhile Hawkeye is just a mess. Idk, I can’t see that changing. I also can’t see where I’d place him after the war, because I can’t see him as okay in that movie-lotr Frodo Baggins Can Never Go Home way. I can’t see anyone as technically “okay,” but I don’t think he has anyplace where he could go to attempt what people call “resuming a normal life.” Hell, I’m not even entirely sure I could see him continuing as a surgeon (that episode with the surgeon who completely breaks down is uh… well, it’s not there for nothing). Similar to Margaret, but with added PTSD, there’s all that Vagueness niggling at his brain, which maybe angers him, because he already knows he’s a big ol bisexual who falls for married men, so what gives? And he doesn’t even have a fallback like the army. At best he might simply be a surgeon or a general practitioner, but you know… The Horrors. I can’t see him as anything but haunted for the rest of his life

And so thinking of a dream scenario where they both somehow make it and it’s not just “trying to get by (trying to get by in the army, trying to get by back in Maine, trying to remember what “home” is supposed to be)” I’m like… what if they just moved in together and tried to deal with the Vagueness together, same as they’ve done multiple times on the show? 

(And sidenote I maybe should’ve gotten into earlier, it’s so interesting that their romantic travails are shared with one another more than any other character -- Hawkeye is the person who knows the most about what was going on with her and Frank/Don/Sully, and she knows about him and Kyung Soon, and the aforementioned Big Conversation about The Revolving Heart Of Korea, which is said by Margaret, but is really the both of them)

(sidenote: Hawkeye is consistently the person who makes her smile like this the most)

(other other sidenote: “double-solitaire” ought to be codeword for queerplatonic aro partnership?????)

(other other other sidenote: literally just watched “Birthday Girls” in which Margaret rails against getting sympathy, but in this one she accepts it so readily from Hawkeye, and has done multiple times ever since the episode with the dog)

Margaret is the woman (maybe even the person) that Hawkeye knows best/has Hawkeye’s number and has done from very early on (but now she’s incredibly fond of that nr), Hawkeye is at least 10% of Margaret’s perfect man, it would be a great beard for the both of them, and they’d be able to draw a lot of comfort from each other.

And you know... they See Each Other and don’t expect the other person to change the core of themselves to fit, and they could challenge one another to become their most truthful selves better than anyone else could 

*

SO IN CONCLUSION WOULD MARGARET DOM HAWKEYE (is barely the question that’s been answered in this long fucking post): IT DEPENDS 

early seasons Hawkeye would have been SO up for it, but Margaret would not + it wouldn’t have been great for either of them I think? Although, sometimes they got along, even then, so maybe off the back of an episode like that... (but I do think it matters that they never canonically have sex until “Comrade in Arms”)

later seasons Hawkeye may have been too depressed for sexual frolicking and Margaret was going through an identity crisis, so idk, somewhere in between all of that somewhere? 

POST seasons Hawkeye and Margaret... maybe? depending on where you puttem? if they get to spend time together?

would they at the very least have fantasized about it? Oh yeah, absolutely!

I leave you with this image:

[bigskydreaming]

Hi! I was reading a fanfic and it brought up Roy and Dick's fight, which I see a lot of in fics but never what they fought about and consequently why they don't talk. I thought it was a vague excuse/reason why Roy was Jason's friend not Dick's anymore but this fic brought up when Dick was batman so I was wondering if there was actually a fight between them? Btw I really enjoy your metas! They're v thought out and well articulated. Also it's v easy to separate what's your opinion and what's fact which is. Very helpful for me

Yeah this is one hundred percent a fanon thing that's kept deliberately vague to justify why Roy in his friendship with Jason seems to have no positive thoughts or concerns about Dick whatsoever. Now granted, Dick and Roy are not nearly as close in the New 52 as they were pre-Reboot. The lack of their friendship there is definitely one of the things I disliked most about the Reboot - and I actually don't care if Jason and Roy are friends tbh, its the total erasure of his history with Dick as if he can't be friends with both, that like, bugs most.

But so like, yeah, Roy and Dick aren't super close when they interact on the Titans in the New 52, but there's literally nothing in any of their interactions that explains the complete absence of him from Roy's life or a reason that Roy would like, hate him the way he tends to in a lot of Jason-centric fics.

When you factor in pre-Reboot stuff though, it starts to get a LOT more.....uh wyd? And this is why I have trouble buying that people just write Roy and Jason the way they do because its the only thing they know from recent comics. Like one, most fans talk about how they don't even read the source comics, so there's no reason their knowledge of the characters or events would be limited to just recent comics if they're going off wiki summaries and scans anyway. And second, most fans AREN'T limited in their knowledge to just recent comics.

Like, the second people start writing Roy and Jason and Kori but with their pre-52 characterizations and references to events from THAT timeline, it all gets very messy, the way they're like, completely antagonistic towards Dick a lot of the time. Because Roy and Dick were always solid. Yes, they fought. A lot. But they always, ALWAYS made up afterwards. They had conflict about Roy's drug addiction - it didn't stop Dick from being there to support him through rehab, or Dick being the first person Roy called to help him get Lian after he learned of her existence. Dick literally held Lian before Roy ever did? He's the one who first put her in Roy's arms for the first time.

(Which is the prime grudge I and most Dick Grayson fans have about Roy and Jason fics which make Jason like, the absolute apple of Lian's eye. If you want to expand Lian's circle of loved and trusted ones to include Jason as Roy's friend and thus her uncle, like go for it! But there's zero reason that should require invalidating and erasing the fact that Dick was this little girl's adored godfather and uncle for pretty much her entire life. And the way Dick is just shoved offstage from Lian's life entirely, to slot Jason into his place as though they're completely interchangeable, its like....THAT'S the kind of thing that gets people irey about how Jason 'steals' Dick's dynamics and character relationships.

Because there's nothing saying they both can't be major players in Roy and Lian's lives! But just that they're not interchangeable! You need to develop the specific role Jason plays there WITHOUT just overwriting everything Dick actually did in relation to the two of them pre-Flashpoint, which is what you're drawing from the second you write Lian, unless you're specifically going with the few appearances we've had of her within literally just the last year.

But I mean, when people just search and replace Dick Grayson in all Roy and Lian's pre-Reboot stories and act like Jason was the one doing all of that instead.....why wouldn't fans of the source material be annoyed by a character getting credit for interactions and things done for Lian and Roy that Jason literally NEVER DID, while at the EXACT SAME TIME, conjuring some mysterious, unnamed 'Falling Out' that Roy and Dick had, that was clearly all Dick's fault, and resulted from him being basically excised entirely from Roy and Lian's lives?

Same with Kori, for the record, and like despite being Dick's ex, she and Dick have NEVER been like, estranged? She and Dick have often been close even after their breakup. None of it makes any sense, and the fact that a lot of fans don't even try to make it make sense or justify it, and expect other fans to just be fine with settling for an inexplicable reversal of Dick's every actual dynamic with these characters while setting up Jason to occupy the exact same role Dick played in these other characters' lives, like.....lol. Its fun.)

Anyway, back to your question, like, there are fights you can go with pre-Reboot as the source of various conflicts between Dick and Roy - but again, I maintain its just as crucial that they're always written as getting past them. They have a very tempestuous relationship because they are the two people MOST likely to call each other on their shit, two of the two people WITH the most shit in common due to the parallels in their childhoods and the roles they've occupied in the Titans and the superhero community in general, and the two people most resistant to being called out on their shit by each other, lol. Mostly in that case because like, they do recognize that they have a lot in common and understand each other very well, so the second the other is calling them out for something, they're usually like "ugh, if HE'S saying this, its probably true and I am just not prepared yet to be wrong about this. I need more time being unjustifiably rawr about things." Its like that thing where they both look at each other doing something that feels familiar or calls back to their own reasons for doing something and they're like ugh I'm in this picture and I don't like it.

So they clash. A lot. But always with the implicit bedrock of like, there's nothing either of them can do or say to the other that will push the other away for good.

They fought over Roy replacing Dick as leader of the Titans when Dick's wedding fell apart, even though Roy actually didn't want to do it and was kinda pushed into it by the government, but again, Dick like, got over it and realized it was for the best and forgave Roy for it that very same issue. And on and on. It always went like that. So there's plenty of stuff that can be used or pointed at as a source of conflict between the two, but the part I'll always call unbelievable is the idea that they never make up after one of these fights. Why now? What fight, specifically, is so bad between them that despite everything else they've gone through AND gotten past, they can't get past this one? Y'know?

So yeah, that's my take on this. There is no definitive falling out between Dick and Roy as many fics like to point to in order to shove him offscreen and make room for Jason in Roy and Lian's lives, and personally, I just don't find it necessary and I actually think it makes Roy look REALLY bad. Because when you're not specifically detailing all the things that Dick has actually DONE for Roy, the lengths to which he's been there for his friend, and like, specifically invalidating each and every one of them as something that never happened in a particular fic, then literally anyone who reads that fic and has their own awareness of Dick and Roy's friendship is kiiiiiinda likely to be reading that and thinking wow what an ungrateful asshole, when Roy's just written as bitching about Dick with Jason and sandbagging him without any real explanation as to WHY, beyond just 'oh they had a fight years ago.'

(And coming up with some random awful thing that Dick did to justify Roy hating him now isn't like, a superior alternative, lmao, because again, its still just trashing one character for the sake of getting him out of the way of two other characters' friendship and people are going to think what they think about that).

Anyway, my now standard stock disclaimer that like, there doesn't actually need to be a canon fight obviously, for people to just write things this way and handwave that Dick and Roy had an epic falling out years ago and now they just hate one another or whatever, or just Roy hates him or vice versa. Obviously people are free to do what they want. They don't need a reason other than "I want to write it this way so Jason and Roy are friends and Jason doesn't have to 'share' him with Dick or have his friendship be overshadowed by their greater history together." That just happens to be a reason that no Dick Grayson fan is ever really going to be happy about, lol, for what should be perfectly obvious reasons, so it honestly shouldn't be surprising to people that fans of the source material often gripe about it.

Because yeah fanfic is a tremendous opportunity to transform the source material into something better, but if what's better for some fans actively takes away what was working perfectly well for other fans the original way, they're going to say that. Especially in a fandom where so many new fans take their view of the characters and their dynamics from fics rather than the source material - when fandom has that much of an influence on what new fans perceive to be 'canon,' fans are perfectly within their right to emphasize what is ACTUALLY canon and what isn't, so that new fans at least have the opportunity to determine for themselves what take they want to go with, instead of just accepting at face value that the nature of say, Dick and Roy's relationship is just that Roy hates Dick because of some mumble mumble ancient history vague mumble details not found mumble mumble fight.

[excitedlysuffering]

Green With Envy

It’s past 2am and my eyes hurt so it’s unedited for now sorry y’all😅

Original Request (from Wattpad account): What makes the boys jealous, if possible?

Guest stars: Sasori and Sai!

Masterlist     

Naruto~

Oh, this boy… he’s too oblivious sometimes he doesn’t even know to be jealous. He was at a hot spring with friends once and someone says, “(Y/N) is so hot…” Naruto just grinned and said, “Yeah, she really is.”

But that doesn’t mean he won’t protect your honor. If someone says something a little too… risque like ‘Yeah, I’d tap that’ for example, get ready for more Narutos than you can count all charging you with a Rasengan.

He will not stand other guys cozying up to you. He’s the one who should be blessed with your hugs and cuddles. Won’t hesitate to cause a scene and yell to the entire world that he loves you and won’t let any other guy make a pass at you.

“Naruto, you didn’t need to go that far! You blasted him through three walls!” He’s endearing, really.

Sasuke~

Is jealousy an Uchiha thing or just a Sasuke thing? One of life’s many mysteries. Anywho, unlike Naruto, the second your name is brought up in conversation, he goes on guard and he’s listening closely.

If anything is said that he deems inappropriate, whether it be disparaging or otherwise, Sasuke had better be held back or he just might punch you into next week.

“Sasuke, calm down! He just said I had good taste in clothes!”

Even though he can easily get jealous, he knows the importance of freedom and he trusts you. He won’t come guns blazing (or sword slashing rather) and drag you away unless you need it of course.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re dating your dad or something. He’s very blunt and if he becomes uneasy with the way another male is talking to you, he’ll let said male know. Maybe after scowling with his Sharingan activated, however.

Neji~

Neji doesn’t really get jealous per se, more like offended on your behalf. Because of his upbringing, which taught him manners and the utmost respect, he really can’t understand talking about girls like they’re objects? Will never refer to a woman as ‘hot’ or anything like that.

If someone even dares speak of you like that, (even if you’re not necessarily together yet) he will fight them, and they will experience the 64 palms technique.

He especially hates people in your personal space. He really does trust you, just not others. Is not afraid to embarrass someone on your behalf. Half the time his glare is enough to scare them off, but some people are just clueless. (They wake up in the hospital)

“Neji! You can’t just throw me over your shoulder and leave! And that guy looked like he had seen a ghost?!” Needless to say, even cool, calm, and collected Neji has his limits.

Shikamaru~

Shika is too laid back to get jealous over little things. Somewhat like Neji, he doesn’t get jealous. He might feel threatened on your behalf, but never jealous. He can trust you with his life why shouldn’t he trust you with your relationship?

However, if someone is clearly harassing you or just generally making you uncomfortable, he will not hesitate to step in and make them leave. He won’t resort to physical violence (too much work), but he will intimidate them or put his genius to use and play some kind of trick on them.

He honestly has endless patience and at the same time no patience? Patience with you if you’re having a pleasant conversation with someone, but will go from 0-100 (or 50, really, anything more is a lot of effort) real quick.

“Shika, that guy thought he was really paralyzed, thanks to your shadow possession!” Being jealous is a waste of time, but clever revenge is always a treat for Shika.

Kiba~

So. Jealous. So. Easily. Kiba is naturally animalistic (in the best way) and just like a dog, can be very possessive. If explicitly asked, he will try to tone down his jealous fits, but will still be protective. If he does have free reign, however, oh boy…

No chill at all, whatsoever. Whether it’s absolutely destroying the object of his rage or just simply making out with you right there. No matter how annoyed he may get, he respects you with every fiber of his being and would never tell you to change or try to control you. He wouldn’t ever embarrass you (unless Kiba and Akamaru pummeling a room full of guys is embarrassing).

Just let him FIND OUT someone is making you feel the slightest bit of unease. One second, they’re chatting you up and then BAM! There’s a flash of white and a huge dog ready to maul them.

“Kiba, what do you mean they all looked at me for too long?! We walked in the door, of course, they turned to look!”

Gaara~

Gaara is a bit of a conundrum, but in a way that makes sense? Like, he doesn’t feel the need to get jealous of guys because when you leave, he’s going to be kissing you goodnight, and he’s the one who gets to spoil you.

However, he will get jealous of little things. Oh, you’ve spent a good amount of time playing with an animal/pet? Be prepared to walk in on Gaara giving them a stern lecture on stealing you from them. Gaara knows he has any potential suitors beat, but tiny adorable animals and children? In his mind, he can never be too cautious.

He gets a little pouty but that can easily be cured with cuddles, sometimes with that evil little pet that stole your affections from him. He can never stay jealous for long, he views it as an unproductive waste of time. He could be actively trying to get your attention, but instead, he’s going to be sulking in a corner? Yeah, no.

“Gaara! Stop scolding my cat, that’s not doing anything!”

Sai~

On the rare occasion that this cinnamon roll gets jealous, he’s confused and shocked. Like just imagine the surprised Pikachu face and that’s him. He knows what jealousy is, he can identify it just fine, but he doesn’t know why he’s jealous.

You aren’t doing anything, all you did was laugh at someone else’s jokes, but still… do you find them funnier than him? Are you going to leave him because he’s not that funny?! Cue the slow onset into insanity… Poor Sai is losing his mind to paranoia and made-up scenarios.

Will most certainly drag you away (gently) from whoever is taking your attention and leave. He doesn’t even bother with a fake smile, they don’t deserve it. He’ll explain to you calmly even though he’s panicking on the inside. Once he is back to normal he’ll show you his nearest artwork.

“What the-! Sai, you can’t just draw caricatures on people’s car!” You don’t even want to know how he figures out which car is theirs...

Kakashi~

Too cocky to be jealous. He has the right to be though because one glance at him without his face mask can cause instant pregnancy. Anywho, he knows you love him and some guy trying to hit on you like some high school douche isn’t going to change that.

He does like to intervene, however, just to flex like ‘yeah, I’m the boyfriend, now get lost’.

He’s not big on PDA, so he won’t start kissing you to ward off strangers, but he will wrap on arm around you or hold your hand and ask who your ‘friend’ is.

When there’s that one stubborn person who won’t take a hint, Kakashi doesn’t mind rocking someone’s world or getting kicked out, he needed to perfect that one offense technique anyways. He’s pretty laid back though, so it has to be somewhat drastic for this though, plus he knows you can handle yourself.

“A thousand years of death?! Isn’t it weird to be poking old men in the butt?!

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

Pfft. Who does he have to be jealous of? He’s a god among mortals, after all. To him, you’re a goddess and as such you belong with someone like him, not the peasants around you.

But on the offhand chance that someone doesn’t heed his godly status, he will not hesitate to pull you into his side and yell ‘Almighty Push’ and totally obliterate that loser. (A/N: Holy crap I think that needs to be a one-shot cuz, wow, Pein being all protective is making me swoon?)

If it’s not a big deal, he’ll easily let you take care of it. If you’re strong enough to catch Pein’s attention, you’re more than strong enough to deal with some lowlife. That doesn’t mean, however, that they won’t feel his wrath too.

If you ever want to witness a true royal rumble, dare someone to mess with Pein’s S/O. It’d be an epic tag team match (slaughter, really) for the ages. One would d be surprised how quick he can lose his cool when it comes to you.

“Pein, that’s the fifth time this month! Kakuzu is going to murder me if I ask for money to fix this wall!”

Deidara~

Need I even say it? Jealous boy all the way. You’re his favorite masterpiece so why should let an uncultured swine who doesn’t even understand your worth touch you? Rhetorical question, he wouldn’t.

He is not above fighting or placing a bomb on someone who gives you one too many glances. He’d make sure they knew it wasn’t art, they weren’t good enough for that, before blowing the offender up.

No one and he means no one gets to talk bad about his S/O. If someone insults you in his presence they might as well as swallowed one of his explosives and trusted him not to blow them up.

Will one 100% hide you from view if you look too appealing. He thinks you look ravishing, but he’s the only one who should be able to think that, in his opinion. Don’t worry, no one’s ever gotten close enough to harass you with Dei around. His one-eyed scowl is a great deterrent.

“Deidara! You blew up my favorite restaurant! He didn’t even say anything to me!”

Sasori~

Would rather die before admitting he was jealous. As adamant about not being jealous as he is about art being eternal. That’s not to say that he won’t take action though. He will use chakra strings to make the perpetrator walk away, meanwhile making them bump into literally everything in the general vicinity.

The two of you don’t leave the base all that often so it’s unusual to see an envious Sasori action, but it’s a real treat when it happens. After he deals with whatever idiot crossed him, he’ll be a bit more affectionate that day/night.

Not huge things, but instead of working on puppets all night, he’d be more apt to hold you that night. Average people hitting on you make him insecure because he realizes he’s not that great at normal relationships but he still doesn’t want to lose you. That feeds into his jealousy and he figures the only way to get rid of it is to make sure those other guys can’t offer anything he doesn’t have.

“Sasori! If you wanted a hug, you could’ve said that instead of treating that guy like a ball inside of a pinball machine!”

[tricksters-enclave]

Member Intros:

So we realized we should probably introduce ourselves individually, so everyone has a little bit of an idea who we all are. If others within the system who aren't on this post decide to interact, we'll figure out something from there. Almost everyone in the system is somehow connected to people from willful-chaotics-assembled.tumblr.com.

~~~

Parker (Host; she/they): Hi, I'm Parker, I'm the host and the original inhabitant of the body. I am genderqueer, sapphic bisexual, and disabled. I am very loud about all of that. I will probably be the main one fronting and posting. I am married to Mischa, the host of the Willful-Chaotics-Assembled system.

Radames (he/him): I think we can safely say that I am either one of the first members of the system, or the first that Parker was aware of. I've been around since about 2008, when Parker needed a character for a Dungeons and Dragons session. I still think it's hilarious that they thought I was only going to stick around for one session. Moon from Willful-Chaotics-Assembled is my chosen sister. I am also an elf.

Loki (he/they/she): If you don't know who I am, you haven't been paying any attention to things. I'm the Trickster, obviously. The system name was my idea. I am probably some combination of fictive and headmate, but we don't dwell on that. It's a good idea to ask my pronouns constantly, as they change pretty much whenever. I don't do gender.

Locke Lamora (he/him): I am "a chaotic little shit" according to everyone I've ever met. I prefer to think of myself as charming. I am a fictive, but it's fine. I am not allowed to drive. Apparently I can't be trusted with a car. Which is fair, honestly. Jean's here too, but he doesn't front much. I am the one who shares a name with Parker's cat, so it's always fun trying to figure out which of us they're yelling at.

Andros (he/him): I probably won't front much. I am also a combination of fictive and headmate. Haedyn from Willful-Chaotics-Assembled is my sibling, Loki is our parent.

Rubye (she/her): I'm more likely to front than Andros. Haedyn is my sibling as well, Loki is my parent. I like setting things on fire when they annoy me.

Zoe (she/her): I'm another early member of the system, been around since...2010ish? I'm a vampire, and I've been told that I can be a bit much. I don't bite. Often.

Roger Davis (he/him): I would also be one of the first members of the system, and I am a fictive, apparently, since I'm from the musical RENT.  I tend to be quiet, but I'm here.

Jez (she/her): We don't talk about my family. Except my cousins. Panther M from Willful-Chaotics-Assembled is one of those. The other is in the system with me, as is my husband Wolf, but they don't front much. I can be a bit abrasive, I don't believe in sugarcoating things. I'm sort of a fictive as well, but the source material is problematic and we don't really talk about it.

Jade (she/her): You'll likely see me arguing with Locke. A lot. He's my brother, but sometimes I want to smack him. I'm a new discovery to the system. Like Jez, I'm sort of a fictive.

Ilya (she/her): I am also technically a fictive, but we don't really use the distinction much. Loki is my father, Natasha is my sister, as is Taliya from Willful-Chaotics-Assembled. Yelena is my sister of the heart. You'll probably see me a lot, I tend to front more than the others. My...husband? Boyfriend? I don't really know what term to use for him. I guess Partner works. Anyway, my partner (romantic and otherwise) is the Winter Soldier. He's here too, but also doesn't front much.

Yelena (she/her): Apparently everyone thinks I'm funny. To be fair, I think I'm hilarious. I am also a fictive. I am....dating would be the word, I believe...Taliya from Willful-Chaotics-Assembled. I like tasing things.

Natasha (she/her): You know me as the Black Widow. I don't front much, unless my sister wants me. Rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated.

Dalia (she/her): I am Radames' daughter. My full name is Vidalia, but I don't like anyone calling me that. My father calls me Lia, Loki (who I see forgot to mention that we are together) calls me Vi. Everyone else calls me Dalia.

Ruby Red (she/her): not to be confused with Rubye. I'm sort of the protector of the system. We like to think I'm what Parker would have been if she hadn't gone through trauma, but honestly, we don't know. I don't know how often I'll front, Zoe seems to have a handle on a lot of the things I do, but I'm here.

Lyssa Davis (she/her): I’m not new, exactly, but I’m a recent fronter. I am Roger’s twin sister. I tend to be quiet but I’ll probably post more often than Rog.

~~~

Those are the main folks likely to interact on the blog. If others decide to front, you can access my system members page from my blog, I'll paste this intro there as well to be updated as needed.

-Parker

[writingfromkitchenator]

Geralt ~ Jealousy And Pining

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,746

Warnings: Neutral Reader, jealousy, pining, suggest mutual pining, teasing, grumpy Geralt

It was normal for you and Jaskier to be hanging back together when you travelled, usually allowing Geralt to lead on, the two of you often talking about ridiculous things.

What wasn't normal, was the hushed, quiet talking that the two of you were now doing.  Geralt wasn’t sure why, but it was setting his teeth on edge. Clearly, you two were up to something, and he hated that he wanted to know what.

He had little doubt it was something to do with him.

Your laughter had Geralt glance back, seeing you shove Jaskier slightly, who was grinning, and he quickly forced his eyes on the road ahead, a new worry curling in his stomach. He did his best to push it away, to drown it back in his suspicions of what the two of you were doing, but the thought was lodged there now, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Were the two of you together and he just hadn’t noticed?

This was not what he wanted to spend his day worrying about.  You all needed to reach the next town before nightfall and the two of you lagging behind was not helping.

“Hurry up you two,” Geralt grunted.  “Unless you want to be stuck out here at night I suggest upping the pace.”

You and Jaskier paused, before there were a few more hurried, quiet words said to each other, and then you caught up.

Geralt saw your mouth open to say something, and it just soured his mood further.  “Whatever you’re conspiring for, don’t do it.”

You blinked at him. “Conspiring?  We haven’t been conspiring for anything.”

“Right,” Geralt grunted. “Well then concentrate on walking. I don’t need to tell you both again that we don’t want to be stuck out here at nightfall.”

There was no missing the look you gave to Jaskier, who just shrugged, before you looked, a little annoyed back at Geralt.  “I know, but we’re still making good time and should be there well before dusk.  This isn’t my first time out in the wilds around here Geralt, and I doubt it’ll be my last, so why don’t you relax for a moment and actually join us in conversation?”

Geralt gritted his teeth and kept his gaze on the road ahead.  “No thank you.”

You rolled your eyes at his back, he could practically feel it, and it just made his irritation grow. If you and Jaskier were together-

No, he had to push those thoughts aside.  You weren’t his to have those thoughts about.

They continued on in silence for a while, you and Jaskier occasionally casting looks at each other, most of which Geralt missed, but the ones he did see, only got him more frustrated.

“How did I end up travelling with you two?”  He mused to himself.

“Well, I get you jobs,” You said, making Geralt’s shoulders tense, realising he’d spoken out loud. “And Jaskier is here as our friend and musical company.  We’re also probably two of the only people around that can put up with your bad moods.”

Jaskier snorted but quickly looked away as Geralt shot an angry look back.  “That wasn’t a question for answering.”

You shrugged.  “Then you shouldn’t have asked it.”

He growled, and quickened his pace.  The word friend rang in his ears, but he was currently too frustrated to process it properly.

“And before you say anything in anger,” You said, rather cheerfully, in fact, infuriatingly so. “We’re not going anywhere.  Like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

“Then stop whispering behind my back.”  Geralt snapped.  “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is?”

“Getting paranoid are we Geralt?”  Jaskier asked.  “I promise we only say good things if we do talk about you.”

Geralt just growled again. Why was he bothering?  He honestly had no idea.

You stepped up to him, ignoring his furious glance at you, just looking around at the wilderness around you.  “If you were really that curious, you could’ve just asked us what we were talking about.  We would’ve told you and avoided this all together.”

He decided it was best to ignore you, not trusting himself to say anything, despite the one question that was still consuming him.  You always did as you pleased anyway, so even if he was to voice his thoughts – it was ridiculous.  He had to stop this.

“I’m getting my own room tonight,” He grumbled.  “You two can share for once.”

You shrugged.  “If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stop you.  Jaskier?”

“Nope.”  Jaskier shook his head, sending you a wink.  “Gives us a chance to plan some more.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched, even as you smiled and shook your head.  “We shouldn’t have too far to go down.”

The rest of the way, Geralt remained obstinately silent, but his mind worked quickly, going over things he knew that he shouldn’t, and he was more than frustrated with himself. You and Jaskier just let him be, deciding it was best not to test him too much, and at least Geralt was grateful for that.

In the emptiness of a room in the town, Geralt finally let out a breath, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders slightly.  Out of your gaze, he felt he could finally process it all properly.

The jealousy still curled low in his stomach.

He hated that he felt like this, that it seemed to be consuming him more and more as he thought about it.  He had no right to be feeling it as much as he was, the two of you having only ever been friends, and yet, he couldn’t help it.

Geralt wanted you for himself.

Rolling his eyes at himself, he collapsed onto the bed, hands running through his hair and he honestly hoped that sleep would take him quickly.

A knock on his door a few minutes later put any end to that thought.

“What?”  He asked, not caring if it was polite or not.

“May I come in?”  You asked through the door.

Geralt groaned and pulled himself from the bed, his hand hesitating for just a moment on the door handle, before he opened it.  “What?”

You raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’d much rather not have this conversation in the hall, so may I come in?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer, stepping into his room, making him roll his eyes and close the door.

“Now before I start,” You said.  “Do you have something you want to ask me Geralt?”

A million things raced through his mind, but he kept his expression neutral.  “No.”

You made a noise that said you didn’t believe him, but you didn’t elaborate further.  “Alright then, I guess you can just listen then.”

Geralt said.  “Y/N please, I’m tired and-”

“If you shut up and listen, this won’t take long.”  You said, a slightly amused smile tugging at your lips.  “I know today hasn’t been your best day Geralt, but I’m only asking for a few more minutes of patience.”

He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying, well, anything, and just gave you a single nod.

“Thank you,” Your smile widened, seeming to be unable to help it.  “Now, Jaskier and I, I will admit, were formulating a plan, however, given today’s interactions, I figured this was much better and safer for him.”

Geralt felt his jealously rear its head again, so he forced it down.  “I knew you were up to something.”

“I wasn’t originally,” You said, suddenly breaking away from his gaze, something that was very unlike you. “However, Jaskier has been nagging me for far too long about it, and I finally gave in to him to at least…try something.  In all honestly, I think he was just hoping you’d over hear our conversation, you know how he likes to add these dramatics to his tales.”

It took a moment for your words to register and he couldn’t help but frown at you.  “Why is Jaskier writing songs about us?”

You shot him a slightly abashed look.  “Do you remember the last one he sang?”

Geralt nodded slowly. “I thought it was a bit…sappy, even for him.”

You chuckled and nodded. “Agreed, but, and I hate to say this, that was about us.”

“What?”  Geralt frowned and tried to remember exactly the words that Jaskier had been singing.  “How was that about-”

He remembered the words, remembered feeling confused at the time, but he’d just decided that Jaskier had had too much to drink.  The song had been about two travellers being in love, but neither of them knew that they loved the other, seemingly more determined to avoid it than give in to what they were feeling.

Geralt stared at you. “What were you and Jaskier talking about today?”

“Jaskier called me out,” You said with a shrug, smiling.  “Then nagged me about talking to you about it when I finally admitted the truth about it.  He and I today, were discussing a plan to be able to do that, and trust me, each scenario was as ridiculous as the last.”

“So you and Jaskier aren’t…” He couldn’t finish the question, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish.

“No.”  You chuckled.  “Jaskier and I are just friends.  You and I, however, well, that all depends if you want something more? If this has all been a…bad assumption…”

Geralt stood there for a long moment, too many thoughts once again racing through his mind, and as he held your gaze, the curl of jealousy that had been plaguing him all day finally snapped and his feet carried him forward.

No words mattered anymore in that moment, he always thought people talked too much, so instead he kissed you, taking you a little by surprise, but it was all he could think about.

Finally, it put his racing mind to rest, and he settled solely on you.

You giggled against his lips, pushing him away slightly and meeting his gaze.  “While that was appreciated, don’t you have to hunt tonight?”

Geralt let a low growl rumble through his chest.  “It can wait a night, I have something more important to attend to.”

With that he scooped you up and carried you the bed, your giggles filling the room, and he finally found himself smiling.

“You know you’re going to have thank Jaskier for this.”

“Not a chance.  I’d never live it down if I did.”

[the-hopeless-haze]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Pairing: Elliot Stabler/reader

A/N: Okay so I had a dream about Stabler the other night and he’s my original SVU crush (sorry Barba) and I had “Illicit Affairs” stuck in my head the whole day after so I had to write this. Thank you to @caked-crusader​ and @detective-giggles​ for encouraging my insanity lol!

Content Warning: NSFW due to sex. Brief mentions of cases that Elliot is working on. Infidelity.

The first time you met Elliot, it was because Dickie had a bad asthma attack and had to be hospitalized overnight. You were fresh out of nursing school, more anxious than confident, and it was a night from hell in that pediatric ward, maybe the worst you’d seen in the couple months since you’d started working. The charge nurse could only start one thing before she was asked to help with something else, two nurses called out and only one could cover, and everyone had at least a three-patient assignment. Suffice it to say tensions were high on that floor, and because Dickie wasn’t the sickest of your patients, you didn’t get to see him as often as you should have. Doing your best felt akin to doing nothing, and every time you came in the room, you apologized you hadn’t been able to come in fifteen minutes ago.

Elliot and Kathy told you it was okay and that they’d been through this before and knew what to expect. But it wasn’t really okay, you knew that. No one wanted to think that their nurse was too busy taking care of other sick children to pay attention to theirs.

Needless to say, you were far too busy that night to pay much attention to Elliot that night, but it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, so maybe it didn’t matter. Still, sometimes you want to remember that glance that started everything because you have so little to hold onto.

You nearly have a heart attack the next week when your nurse manager says an NYPD detective needs to speak with you, and you nearly have another when you see Elliot’s face. You’ll remember the glance vividly this time; you look down at the linoleum hospital floor before finally sweeping your eyes across his face. He’s not mad; you can tell he’s the kind of man who’d let you know if he was angry, so you try to still your shaking hands.

“I just wanted to let you know Dickie’s doing a lot better,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help—"

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. It was a madhouse in here that night. Besides, I know it was you who got the doctor to switch his meds. They’re working a lot better now. He can actually sleep through the night.”

“Well, that’s great!” you say brightly, genuinely feeling a lot better about that night now. “Did you really come out all this way just to tell me?”

He chuckles, shakes his head. “No. I’m working. Victim’s getting a rape kit done here, so I thought I’d see if I could find you while I wait.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “What unit do you work on?”

“Special Victims. I’d say I hope I see you around, but I really don’t want my work to bring me to this floor.”

“Me neither. I sincerely hope I never see you again,” you say, smiling, and he smiles back, claps you on the shoulder and thanks you again before leaving.

“He was hot,” Tammy, your best friend on the ward, says as she comes over. “And he came back to see you. Maybe you should ask him out?”

“Well, he’s married,” you laugh. “All the DILFs are. Wives don’t wanna let that go.”

And you really thought that was that. You did have your fair share of DILFs come through that floor, and on slower shifts you’d fantasize about what it would be like to be the other woman, especially when couples would argue to the point of tears. Sure, tensions were always high when children were ill, but those screaming matches were always the result of a more systemic issue within their relationship. Some marriages were destined to fall apart, and sometimes it was exhilarating to dream about being the catalyst, even if you’d never actually act on it. No harm done in imagining yourself with a man you’d only see once in your life.

But you’d see Elliot again in a few months when his job did in fact bring him to your floor. He’s accompanied by a brunette woman, who you later learn is his partner, Olivia. You have no idea how they do their jobs. Sick kids you could handle, but children that had been abused, that were put into that hospital bed, not by the hands of a virus or disease process but by the hands of an adult... it was enough to turn your stomach. But now, at least, you had a direct line to call whenever you thought something iffy was going on between a family, as Elliot gave you his card. He said he trusts your judgment. You tried to suppress your heart fluttering. You’re too young to be having palpitations, but you can’t help staring at him longingly the whole time he’s there talking to the doctor, and you hope neither he nor Olivia notices. He just cared so much, and there’s nothing that gets the ovaries into action like seeing a man that protective over children.

You have to realize, though, that he was just being nice, and he just wanted another set of eyes out there to make sure no one got away with hurting children. You were all too happy to fill that role, anyway. It was a noble one. It had nothing to do with you specifically, and you had to be okay with that.

But fate is a funny thing, because even though you dated around throughout the next couple years, even though you had plenty of other things to occupy your time... Elliot always came back into your life somehow. Just when you thought you forgot about him, it seemed like he was waltzing onto your floor, or, god forbid, there was a child’s family you wanted him to speak to and make sure was alright.

Most times he came empty-handed and almost every time he came with Olivia, but on occasion, he’d show up by himself and with two coffees. And you grew up a little in those couple of years, even if you never grew past harboring your little crush on Elliot. You lost your anxiety that came with being a fledgling nurse and enrolled in a nurse practitioner program. You had your heart broken a few times and you broke a few hearts of your own. You moved out of your parent’s apartment and got your own place.

As for Elliot? Those years didn’t treat him as kindly. He wasn’t growing up as much as he was going down. Kathy wanted to leave him, he felt like he was losing touch with his kids, and his career path only fueled the anger that gnawed at him day after day and night after night. How the hell did his life get this fucked?

Of course, you weren’t privy to this information until he punched a hospital wall. It was a long night, and one of the children he rode on the ambulance with didn’t make it. You were upset, too, of course, even though he wasn’t your patient, and you couldn’t wait to get out of here and cry over a bottle of wine. But when Elliot’s fist connected with the wall, you knew your night was going to end much differently.

“(Y/n)! Are you busy? I need you to take your cop friend out of here. We don’t want the parents seeing that. Go! Clean up his hand and make sure he’s billed for that wall,” the doctor barks at you. “You gonna move?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, Doc,” you murmur, but you’re frozen in place at the nurse’s station. You can’t help staring at Elliot as he steps out of the room, with his chest heaving, his hand bloodied, his blue eyes ablaze. Eventually, your legs cooperate with you again, and you nod at him, motioning for him to follow you down the hallway. You grab some gauze and alcohol from the supply closet on the way and lead him into an empty room, taking his hand in yours. “Can you make a fist for me? I need to see if it’s broken.”

Elliot doesn’t say anything; he barely even looks at you, but he does as you ask.

“Okay. Good. You're just gonna be a little sore. You can relax it now. The alcohol is going to sting—“

“I know,” he says hollowly.

“I’m sorry. You’re the oldest patient I’ve had since I was in school,” you say, feeling your face flush as you grab the alcohol and wipe his knuckles. "This isn't the first time you've attacked a wall, then, hm?"

Elliot shoots you a withering look and you swallow thickly. Was he going to yell at you now? Thankfully, he sighs and the anger in his eyes fades. "Listen. I'm sorry you had to be here for that.”

"It's alright. I've seen worse. And I know it's tough, Elliot," you say. "Everyone handles grief differently."

"It ever get any easier for you?"

"No," you whisper, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes so he can't see them well up with tears as you lean over to bandage his hand. "Guess it never does. I don't get angry; I just get depressed. You don't want to get desensitized to it, though. I'd rather see people punch walls than not care."

Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes your hair back with his good hand, and he keeps it there on the side of your cheek. All this time, in the four years of knowing this man, and he'd never touched you like this. Come to think of it, you never exactly stood this close to him, either. Your relationship was always professional, despite all the times you wished it wasn't. Wasn't there a reason you two kept ending up in the same rooms? Wasn't there a reason you ended up in this one, alone? And you could get drunk off his scent, couldn’t you? The slight musk of sweat from his earlier exertion, the woodsy headiness of his cologne, the hint of spearmint on his breath from his mouthwash... it was all too much, and it’s all you have in you to not lean into his touch, to not lean over and press your mouth to his...

“Elliot—“

"Don't talk," he murmurs. "Unless you want to stop me. Do you?”

You wouldn’t dare.

When your lips finally do connect, it's electric, even though the only thing running through the back of your mind is how you'd probably be fired if anyone stepped into the room at this moment. You can't very well deny yourself what you've been wanting on and off for years, though, even if it’s wrong. His hands grab your waist and yours find purchase on his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex underneath you as he moves you to straddle his thigh. You have to try very hard not to search for that friction your whole body aches for, not yet, not when you don’t know how far he wants to take this and when you’re still on the clock.

“When do you get off?” he asks, and you both chuckle at the unintended double-entendre.

“At eleven.”

“Come have a drink with me.”

“I don’t want a drink. I want to continue this,” you purr, getting off his lap to fix the bandage and tape it down.

“You sure?”

“Elliot, I thought you’d never ask me. I would’ve been sure four years ago,” you say, feeling slightly guilty at that, but it was true. The more you saw of him without his wife and children the easier it was to forget that they were the reason you met him in the first place. And if at any time he kissed you like that? You know you’d be putty in his hands just like you were now. “You don’t need to go back to the precinct?” You don’t dare ask about home. Selfishly, you don’t want that to cross his mind.

“I’ll be back here by eleven.”

It’s another breathless kiss before you’re out the door, heading back to finish your shift.

“The hell are you all red for, (y/n)?” Tammy asks as you round the corner.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just ran up here. You need anything?”

“Ran up here? Weren’t you taking care of... oh. You’re playing with fire, girl,” she says, smirking.

“Shut up,” you say, but you can’t force your cheeks to cool down. “Nothing happened.”

“Mm. Be careful. He’s still married, isn’t he?”

You wouldn’t listen. You were only after chasing that high, even if it was only born to die in front of your eyes. —- You’re straining against your handcuffs, and you can’t see Elliot at all through the blindfold, but you can feel his hands and his mouth, hot and heavy, touching you everywhere. You have no clue where to focus, and you still can’t quite believe he’s here in your apartment. Part of you expected him to stand you up and realize that he should be going home instead of taking you to bed. But he either didn’t have that epiphany or he didn’t care - and you were desperate enough for him that you’d take either - and so began your first illicit meeting.

“I told you to stop pulling at those, baby,” Elliot says, his tone stern. “You’re going to make yourself bleed.”

“Maybe if you gave me what I wanted, I wouldn’t have to—“

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh, and not being able to see only heightens the sensation. “You gonna give me attitude, baby? I don’t think so. Why don’t you relax? I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take my time though. Been four years of seeing your ass in those tight scrubs and not being able to do fucking anything about it.”

“You noticed me…. Like that?”

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t? Don’t act innocent now. You know what you do to me.”

Of course, you had noticed him looking at you sometimes, but you never let yourself read into it, but now, everything was coming back to you and… oh, fuck, finally he slips two fingers into your entrance and you’re drawn out of your thoughts, arching your back as he drags his fingers across your walls, painstakingly slow.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby girl,” he grunts. “You think you can take three? Mm. Gonna stretch you out a little.”

His bandaged hand comes to still your hips and you can’t believe he’s fucking you this good with his non-dominant hand, his thumb flicking against your clit every so often, those little shocks of pleasure bringing you closer to the million little deaths you deserved. Sometimes you’d feel his mouth where you’d least expect it, too, his tongue licking a trail up your stomach to take your nipple in his mouth or his teeth and tongue working on leaving a mark on your collarbone.

“Please. So close, El,” you pant, rolling your hips in vain.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it, come on, let go, baby,” Elliot growls in your ear. “Just let go.”

And you do, falling apart with his name on your lips before he kisses you again, swallowing down all your moans and whimpers, his hands leaving your lower body to find purchase in your hair.

“You good?” he asks, barely pulling away from your mouth.

“So good,” you gasp, straining upward to press your lips to his again.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby, that okay?”

“More than okay.”

You’re so wet he doesn’t meet much resistance, but you’re still sensitive from your orgasm so soon before, and combined with the fact that you can’t see or touch him - it was almost too much at once.

“Oh fucking hell,” Elliot grunts. “You good?”

“Yes. Please start fucking moving,” you whine. “Fuck me hard.”

You can tell he needs that; he needs to let go of all his pent-up anger and frustration, and you didn’t really care if at the expense of that you couldn’t walk tomorrow. You’d do anything, anything for just the chance to occupy a sliver of his life.

And God, once given permission, he doesn’t hold back at all. He sets a brutal pace, the bed shaking and moving in tandem with the force of his thrusts. You can’t see him, obviously, but you can feel the weight on the bed shift and his angle change as he grips the headboard, driving into you so roughly you think you might black out. He starts grunting softly with every thrust, and then, oh - you feel him move back down, his lips catching yours and his hands cupping your breasts and it’s all you can do to fight with your body not to come yet; you want to come with him, experience this high together.

“Fuck, (y/n), so good,” he groans, his tongue running over the bruise he’d sucked onto your skin earlier, and you whimper in response. “So fucking good for me, taking my cock so good. Knew you’d be fucking amazing.”

If his dirty talk wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, well, he adjusts his angle with a particularly strong thrust of his hips and you’re pulling on the handcuffs again, the sting as they slice into your wrists a sharp contrast to the impending pleasure - if you could just hold on - and thankfully, Elliot’s panting brusquely in your ear that he’s close, that you should let go again. Coming together is a beautiful euphoria - one that was desperately needed after the night you had, after the four years of longing stares that neither of you, apparently, knew was reciprocated until now. But like the end of all highs, you have to come down at some point. Elliot lifts the blindfold and looking into his eyes for the first time since he stripped you naked, you can’t help but feel like a fucking mess. But you know you’d do it again, and again, and again...

“I told you not to pull at those,” he tsks, leaning over to unlock the handcuffs and free your wrists. “You’re bleeding, (y/n).”

And, like some bad deja vu, Elliot’s cleaning your wounds with alcohol like you did for him only hours prior.

And after, he stays and talks with you a little, mentions vaguely his marriage is going downhill, which you could have easily figured out yourself, and when you wake up in the morning, he’s gone without a trace. You had to expect that he couldn’t stay, and you wonder what lie he fed his wife. You wonder if she believed it. Was this just a one time thing? Maybe you just both needed to get this out of your system, as almost half a decade of sexual tension needed to be dealt with somehow.

But no. Like always, you see him again, and on most occasions, now, he ends up tangled in your bedsheets. It feels like you’re always competing with other women for Elliot’s attention, whether it be Kathy or Olivia. But you take solace in the fact that you’re the only one he’s going to fuck like this. Olivia’s his partner, and that relationship is already too close for comfort to bring sex into. And if he came home with handcuffs and a blindfold to his wife, she’d drag his ass to therapy. You’re the only woman in his life that he can use for this, and that thought alone could get you high, could get you off. And sometimes, that feels like all he’s using you for, a sense of release for the moments when he doesn’t want to be at home and he can’t be at work. But other times - he lets you in, tells you jokes, tells you stories - and in some ways you’ve never felt this close to another person. He played such a different role in all the other areas of his life - but with you - he didn't have to play one, and sometimes you caught a glimpse of the man he was before all his burdens were placed onto his shoulders. You know you’ll never have a relationship like this with anyone else.

And for that reason, you’ll always answer the phone when he calls, even if you ruin yourself every time. You would for him. You always would for him.

[dreaminginvelaris]

sorting acotar characters into hogwarts houses

idk why i decided to make this post but it was fun sooo...

lmk if y'all agree or disagree. Also please no hate, sometimes a post is just for fun and i don't need any negativity. UNLESS its hate for elain which by all means go ahead ;) (because of ppls sensitivity, this joke isnt an invitaion to go on a full blown elain hate rant just offer a few jabs, especially if you agree on the elain section and move on, if you wanna go on a rant, message me or submit a post and i'll response, all the love <3)

Slytherin: Ambition, Cunning, Leadership, and Resourcefulness

Rhysand: of course Rhys is Slytherin, the man screams Slytherin. We all know he's cunning, often coming up with plans to get what he wants, leader well duh, he's a high lord and loves it and is great at it, he's ambitious, he's a dreamer, so of course, he wants more, and he's resourceful, always being able to think on the spot. Rhysands second house would be Ravenclaw for sure though.

Eris: uhhh do I even have to explain? wants to be Highlord, boom ambitious. seems to be the one in charge of his brothers and has many responsibilities, boom leader. being able to achieve what he wants, boom cunning. resourcefulness...yeah I don't got an example for that one, anyways 3/4.

Azriel: daddy az is a Slytherin, I mean obviously this is the best house (is it obvious yet that I'm a Slytherin ;) but fr, I debated sorting him into Ravenclaw, but even though yes he shows Ravenclaw traits it's not the ones we see the most of or the ones that really shine through Azriel's reserved personality. The main traits azzy boo here has from Slytherin are Cunning and Resourcefulness, and imo these are the ones we see from him every page.

Amren: im putting amren here too, she's literally both!

Gryffindor: Brave, Courage, Daring, Chivalrous

Cassian: this one is self-explanatory, how many times has he put others before himself, how many times has he endangered his own life to save others. that's a Gryffindor soul he has. he always tried to do the right thing, he's brave as hell and reckless at times it seems from the little snide comments we've gotten from the books, he would have been a marauder no doubt.

Tamlin: I hate to do this I do because I love my lions, but I had to put this piece of shit somewhere and since he reminds me of peter Pettigrew bc of his cowardness, I'm sorting him in here. I'm so sorry guys ;(

Morrigan: helloooo, the house colors are red and gold??? obviously mor would demand this house, yes demand. but not just that she's crazy brave, at only what 18? i think, she stood up to her family, making a decision she knew could have her ending up in a horrible situation. but she always is brave, shes gotta when her evil family is still in her life.

Hufflepuff: Loyal, Kind, Patient, Hardworking

Gwyn: i choose my girl gwyn for Hufflepuff bc let's face it, she is the embodiment of Hufflepuff. She's loyal to her new friends, emerie and Nesta, and the priestesses. She's kind as we can see when she first met Nesta and when emerie and Nesta shared their stories. She's very patient never snaps at that bitchy priestess who idk the name of as well as patient when it comes to her and Azriel's tender new friendship and hardworking, always doing her job, running around the library, for her work, always researching more ways to help the Valkyries. i debated putting her in Ravenclaw, because of her intelligence, but i think she's a Hufflepuff through and through.

Elain: IT HURTS MY HEART PUTTING PLAIN ELAIN IN THIS HOUSE. but I gotta, the only trait this plant sniffer has out of all the houses is "kind and patient" EVEN THOUGH SHE'S NOT REALLY LMFAO. I've made a post on explaining why this dirt lover isn't as kind as the books make her out to be, and I would argue she isn't actually patient at all, I mean did we miss how she was basically frustrated Nesta wasn't getting better even though it had been like what 2 weeks, LMFAO. but yeah I mean she's not loyal unless you have food and money then oh yeah she'll be loyal and she's not hardworking bc I mean she never did jack shit and still doesn't, sorry to do this to y'all.

Note: some of yall are so soft. this is not an anti elain post. sorry i insulted her but hey its my post, and i have commentary on each character to explain why i feel they belong in a certain house. sorry i happened to insult your fav. but this isnt an anti elain post, just like its not anti tamlin or anti eris. its just a post about all the characters period, which is why i inculded all of them in the tags. hey, i even insulted Nesta a little bit, but I'm not gonna tag anti-Nesta bc it's not a fucking hate post. get off this post if it comes across you and you don't like what I say, it's not hard to literally just scroll, trust me I've done it multiple times especially when it's a hate post on my beloved characters and they didn't use the anti tags. it's not fucking hard, grow up.

Ravenclaw: Wisdom, Wit, Individuality, Intelligence

Feyre: I debated putting queen feyre into Slytherin, I mean she shows the traits for sure, but it's not really if she shows the traits it's what shines the most in her. Ravenclaws are known for their creativity (bae luna Lovegood <3) and feyres an artist, even in her darkest times she remained an artist, always seeing portraits in her mind, always admiring the beautiful colors of the world. We know she's intelligent, picking up reading and writing quickly, and we also see it when she's strategizing, with the inner circle. Feyre is so wise, she had to be, she had to grow up quickly, you often see her in the books giving advice, because even though she's only 21, she's lived a lifetime. and the whole book of acomaf can show you how witty she is, I mean its what made us fall in love with feysand.

Amren: tiny snowball amren is literally a slytherclaw, she has all the traits from both. but because of how well she is with coding languages and how she always reads and does puzzles i think she'd enjoy being a Ravenclaw.

Nesta: I thought about this for a while, really looking into where she would thrive, Ravenclaw is for her no doubt. She's herself, always has been even when that wasn't such a good thing... but she's witty too if you make sure to not count the "the book is about...a book" I'm sorry that line makes me laugh every single time. we haven't really seen much of her intelligence but I'm guessing she is. but really she would love to be in a house where ppl are themselves and read, i can already imagine her creating a book club where people can be themselves and enjoy smutty books like her.

Lucien: originally I was going to sort him into Hufflepuff but then I remembered how intelligent he is, how witty, and I remembered in acowar he talked about how being the youngest of what 7 heirs? he had the chance to really educate himself which he loved to do, to really learn about his court, idk this man just screams intelligence to me.

I left out emerie bc i honestly don't know where to sort her, i feel like i just don't know her too well or understand her enough to sort her, so feel free to lmk where she would belong :)

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Seven

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 2.6k author note :: ofc the reader would still be considered to be a duchess which is why it’s duchess!reader but i guess there’s just more themes of war and titans etc than i expected. so i guess it’s also cadet!reader ?? i promise i have a plan OK! T___T. anyways i hope that’s alright and not very confusing the original premise very much still stands!! :D also i promise levi gets better maybe soon who knows... → click here for the next part ! 

It's understandable why she's noticeably alarmed by the shift in behaviour, the concept of Levi showing any inclination towards caring about you is foreign to the both of you.

"The Duke has also been asking me and Mikasa the most peculiar questions too."

You blink. "What sorts of questions?"

"Ones concerning your past" She begins and your curiosity piques. "Asked if you ever mentioned anything about your old life. Basic information, I don't understand why he would ask now."

"He asked about me?" You question incredulously. This is surreal.

Bobbing her head up and down you stare closely at her trying to figure out if she's serious and she passes your test with flying colours.

You don't know if you should be nervous or afraid, perhaps he shifted back to his loving self for a while? Thousands of explanations surge past you but you can't pinpoint what exactly could have caused him to ask such questions. As far as you know, he's never been interested in you unless a transaction has been involved. That's all it's been since he snapped out of the spell. A purely transactional relationship.

Sasha places a firm hand on your shoulder "Talk to him, figure out what's going on." Her suggestion makes you shudder, frankly you're fearful around him after the events of yesterday night.

Whatever sick and twisted mind game he's playing at you won't let yourself become prisoner to it.

"No," You shake your head simply. "This is another one of his stealthy tactics, I won't give into it out of desperation."

"All the more reason to question where his morals lay." Sasha is persistent. The anxiety is burning itself into your body and it's tough to disregard its presence.

If there's one thing you have learnt in your lifetime it's to put trust in as little people as possible. You have your confidants and are dedicated to keeping your friendships with them. Sasha and Mikasa are loyal at heart and their steadfast nature is incomparable. But, they are anomalies. As much as you would like to admit that there are many diamonds similar to those two you can't.

It's rare to find reliable individuals in this harsh reality full of wealth, jealousy and power hungry survival. Levi, is a man you refuse to put even an ounce of trust into.

Putting any faith in him is hazardous. His unflappable demeanour, self-control, the knack he has for long-winded and gradual manipulation. Distant, bitter and calculating. You think he wouldn't care less if you were to drop dead this instant. In reality you aren't a human being to him, simply a problem out of the very many he already has. So why the sudden interest? Why? What is it he's after this time?

You've signed your life away to this empire under the ruse of becoming an informant. You're risking your life for him. What more does he want to coax out of you?

Those are the thoughts that scuttle past you as you pace in one of the very many hallways within the estate. Your initial destination had been his office but you retreat. For now you choose to withdraw from a battle of words. You aren't prepared.

But life has a way of never letting you pick when you encounter him.

The sound of footsteps behind you is a blunt indicator he's near but you let your naivety pray it's simply a maid. "Cadet." And there he is. Snarling behind your ear, breath blazing.

Cadet?

He must be able to tell you don't recognise the name which rolls off his tongue, especially when the two of you aren't in a professional setting, its placement is odd.

"What? Do you think you're worthy of a better term?" He's taunting you, disgusted that you're dense enough to think you're deserving of any other title.

Arms clasped behind his back he takes a long stride forward, you take a step back in response, he steps forward again and you move in the opposite direction again.

"I'm not used to it that's all. I know I am no Duchess."

His raspy voice creeps into your ear "Get used to it. You are my subordinate, don't assume this is a level playing field."

"Do you hop into all of your cadet's beds very often Sir?"

The question comes out of nowhere and as soon as the words have left your lips you slap your palms over your mouth taken aback just by how easy it is for the impulsive side of your brain to defy him.

"Really?" He asks darkly, and when you narrow your eyes in bewilderment, he coughs, clearing his throat to begin again. "Are you willing to bring this up right now?"

He's as close as ever now, if he moves an inch closer his nose will brush against yours, it suddenly feels difficult to breathe but you swallow the struggle away still unsure if you can force yourself to reply to his question. Is there a right or wrong answer?

For once, you choose to be selfish and put your interests before anyone else's even if that means risking your safety in the process. You just want to understand for once how his brain works.

Balling your fists into two you manage to squeak out what you've been holding back "Do you pry into the personal life of each and every one of your cadets or does that special rule only seem to apply to me?"

"Do you give all of your cadets random days off?"

"Do you-"

He grabs the back of your ponytail with his gloved hands, his skin isn't directly touching yours but the firm grip he has on you doesn't stop your cheeks from flooding with warmth. Fumbling around you're about to scream when he pulls at your hair again jestingly, his other arm moves to securely hold you keeping you stuck in the position you're in.

"Levi." You squirm around awkwardly trying to escape his grasp but he doesn't find this at all amusing.

"Captain." His firm correction catches you off guard.

"Sorry. Captain." Your throat is dry as you croak out the short reply.

Straightening your back you try to shake off the hold he has on your hair but he only tugs your head backwards warning you. Your bare neck is exposed and his eyes slip to your half done buttons. Rolling his eyes he knows if it were any other male member of the corps even the oh so respectable and mature Erwin Smith who caught you like this they would fantasize about how you look underneath that flimsy button up. It's now slipping down one of your shoulders.

Moving the arm that has been holding you down he jerks the fabric back up your shoulder.

"I was under that spell of yours. You're naive to think there's any other reason." He returns venomously, his voice is dripping in poison determined to exterminate any of the attitude you've shown him in the past two minutes.

"Why all the questions about my personal life? I was informed you interrogated a few of my friends."

He tugs at your hair again, you tilt backwards. "What do you hope to get out of this? Find out I have some sort of secret feelings for you?"

In the blink of an eye your bubble has been burst, deep down you did hope that was what this was about. It's not that you would like for him to love you, you wouldn't mind it but, if he loves you your safety is guaranteed that's all that matters. That's what you tell yourself. You don't miss the old him no you don't.

The colour drains from your face when you hear what he has to say afterwards.

"Adorable." His tone is spiked in mockery. "How fond you are of me, but I have no interest in the likes of you."

Heart leaping to your throat the simmering rejection settles.

"And. If you must know, you were given a day off today because Hange insisted every cadet have a day of rest before we all relocate to the training facility's dorms." You curse yourself, the transfer had slipped your mind completely.

"Got it? Fucking prissy princess." The expletive makes you wince.

Then he's silent, it's deafening and bizarrely you find his silence all the more daunting and menacing than when he speaks.

Wrestling yourself out of the grasp he has on your hair is your next move but he loosens his grip without being told to.

Levi allows for you to retreat with no further arguments.

And just like that the rare day off goes past as quick as it happens.

You learn that ignoring Levi is your best bet at living a peaceful life within the walls of this Kingdom. Follow the orders he gives you and you almost always guarantee your own safety. Living. Even if it isn't a happy life you are aware there will be some pleasant moments. Living to experience those moments is the only motivation you have.

Erwin has said you would benefit from working with the rest of the cadets more often. It stops them from questioning why you receive personal training - after all they are unaware of the deal stricken up between you and Levi, it's understandable for the influx of questions.

You don't mind, after all training with Mikasa by your side for most of your days sounds more appealing in the long term. It usually gets lonely and tedious being alone. The prospect of being around the other cadets appeals to you too. You haven't actually had the opportunity to speak to very many of them and a few new members have apparently joined the ranks as of today.

Curiosity is kicking in, everyone is mumbling about the new cadets joining the squadron. You count as one of the new additions you suppose, there's no other explanation for why everyone whispers and murmurs as you stroll into the crowded training area with Mikasa by your side.

"Isn't she the one who banged her head?" muffled chuckles are heard but you pay no mind to the expected response, they'll soon be done talking about you when the next person in line embarrasses them self in your place. Levi's sharp tongue has conditioned you to pay no mind to the commentary of the other cadets. Nobody seems to be able to humiliate you in his fashion.

Mikasa doesn't take the same approach as you when greeted by the unwelcoming whispers, instead she whips her head in the direction of the insults, it looks as if she's thinking about careening one of her steel blades at the group just to instill some respect into them but the simple jerk of her body facing them is enough to make them rotate away in panic and curve the topic of discussion elsewhere.

She mutters something unclear under her breath, you would ask her to repeat her sentence but you're sure all she's done is call the boys infantile and stupid for the way they conduct themselves.

Everyone is introducing themselves and you familiarize yourself with some faces. Krista, the human embodiment of a dainty flower, she's as sweet as honey, A brunette ruffles her hair, she seems close to Krista, she doesn't even bother to introduce herself until she tells her too. Ymir, is her name.

Next you acquaint yourself with Connie, he's friendly and more than happy to converse with you, a breathe of fresh air from the cramped nature of the gossiping group from before.

Everything is going smoothly but then you feel a shoulder slink over your arm, it's not Mikasa it doesn't feel like her.

"You know Jean?" Connie is obviously very surprised.

That's when your eyes bulge out of your sockets in complete and utter shock at the slim chances of this possibility ever occurring, of all the people in all of the places, you just so happen to encounter Jean Kirstein again. He's a wildcard that's for sure.

It doesn't even cross your mind to think he could easily rat you out and ask why a noble woman such as yourself is here of all places. In fact, that concern is at the back of your mind far from your attention. You simply smile, happy to see a familiar face. You barely know him personally but from your last encounter you've been able to discern that he's welcoming and sociable.

He's incredibly friendly patting your head and completely bombarding you with questions "I would have never expected someone like you to show up." If it were anyone else you would have taken it as an insult but he's genuinely curious what brings you here, that much is obvious by his tone.

"Likewise Kirstein, I suppose we live in a small world."

You purposefully choose to not reveal much, you don't know who you can and can't trust.

He seems to catch on because he doesn't follow up on his inquiry. Instead he and Connie ask what part of Paradis you're from, what your parents do, all sorts. You're so engrossed in making up a somewhat believable story you don't even realize Kirstein's arm is still slung over your shoulder.

It's only until Hange yells "ATTENTION!" at the front of the training grounds do your notice the close proximity between you and your fellow cadet.

Slowly edging away from him you're swiftly able to detach yourself with no disturbances.

Hange is introducing themself, hands flailing in all directions and eyes wide describing how their additional role is investigating titans, they say if you're lucky enough maybe one day you'll be able to help with one of their secretive experiments. A towering blonde brute nearby whispers that Hange is eccentric and odd, a few others say it's surprising they're a superior.

Sensibly, you bury the frustration you feel down your throat, but God would you love if those childish fools kept their false opinions to themselves.

Erwin and Levi exchange looks probably deciding who speaks afterwards, it seem begrudgingly Levi agrees to take the stand.

The training ground abruptly falls silent.

Levi taking a step forward surveys the area and not once does he bother looking at you.

"Rules." His voice rumbles. "Which you all must follow." His gaze unusually centers in on Jean, you bear witness to how his form begins to tremble. Just one look from the Captain and he's about to dissolve.

The majority of his rules are basic and can easily be predicted, "You are expected to help with the cleaning. If your personal hygiene is that of a pig you may as well walk yourself out of the door now." His silver eyes are stabbing into the front row, most likely because Eren is there. He's apparently missed cleaning duty for two weeks now, it's miraculous how he's escaped unscathed.

After Levi is done wordlessly threatening Eren he rubs his hands together expectantly. Lips quirking up into one of his sharp cut-throat smiles he stares right at Jean. After a moment of silence he speaks with clarity. "No dating between cadets is permitted. No fucking either, sorry to disappoint Kirstein."

Metallic eyes are piercing into his wobbly form again and all of the cadets burst into a rupture of giggles. You too are about to join them. Truthfully, it is laughable that his notorious womanizing reputation is known even to the Captains.

But before you're able to laugh your breathe falters, you can practically feel jagged daggers twisting and digging into you. Quickly before he swiftly looks away you’re able to note Levi's eyes deliberately flick up in your direction, gaze boring into you, it burns.

You feel guilty but don’t know what it is you’ve done to produce such a hostile response.

Nevertheless, you can feel his scrutiny impale you.

[the-melting-world]

Strength | Side B: "Colder Heavens"

art by @ ligiawrites

~ In which a former Count breaks a very important rule…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Lucio | Valdemar

Track Origins: “Colder Heavens” by Blanco White

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: Strength

Khleo is Non-binary and uses she/they pronouns interchangeably

cw: language, alcohol, blood, violence, mild gore

~ 3.3k words

***

~ 17 years ago ~

Hans von Heine shrugged the heavy sack of potatoes off his shoulder as he arrived at the door of his small flat. He unlocked the door and shortly after letting himself inside, he was met with a very tired, “Careful. There’s glass on the floor.”

Hans looked up and locked eyes with his wife, Magda. She was still busy sweeping up the remains of broken ceramic bowls in the kitchen.

“What happened?” Hans asked, gracefully sidestepping the uneven shards. There was no alarm or urgency in his voice, only concerned curiosity. After dropping off the potato sack, he began to help Magda by collecting the larger pieces.

“Khlee.” Magda sighed. “She had another headache and panicked.”

Hans grunted as he stood up. “It’s been a while since her last one. I’ll go talk to her.”

Magda got up too and touched his shoulder. “She’s finally up and moving but…” The skin around the woman’s clear blue eyes wrinkled slightly. “She can’t lift her arms, Hans.”

He covered her hand with his larger one and used the other to gently massage a little tension out of her shoulders. When she relaxed some, he nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Magda. We’ll come help you with dinner soon.”

Magda looked around. “What did you bring for me this time?”

Hans’ dark beard stretched over his toothy grin. “Kartoffeln.”

Magda rolled her eyes. “Wieder, Hans?”

He chuckled as he disengaged from her and popped a kiss to her brow. “Yes. Again. Khlee likes them and they’re cheap.”

Magda drifted back to her task. “Hm. I can see what you’re doing. You want to take her to the beer garden this weekend.”

“The festival is in town,” Hans said. “And I’m willing to bet that wherever Khlee came from, she’s never been to one quite like ours.”

When Hans left the kitchen, he didn’t have to walk very far to get to Khlee’s room. He found his child sitting on the edge of her cot, swinging her legs and glaring at the wall. Though she hadn’t been a part of their household for very long, Hans still felt like they had brought her up since birth.

“Mama says you’re walking now,” He said as he closed the door behind him. “I’m very proud of you.” He took a seat beside her.

Khlee tensed underneath the warm poncho Magda had quilted for her. It was large enough to allow her arms to hide away unless she wanted it otherwise.

“Mama helped me.”

Hans lowered his gaze to Khlee’s knees, which bore fresh cuts from the broken dishes.

“Oh? So is that how you thank her? By breaking all of her kitchenware?”

Khlee drew in sharp breath and leaned over as if to cradle her head, but she couldn’t.

“Papa, I didn’t mean to, I swear! I… I was trying to remember something, but I–”

Hans cursed himself for taking it too far. “Khlee, calm yourself. No one is angry with you.” He gathered her head under his chin and held the wheezing child until her breathing was back under control.

“Now.” Hans sat her upright and pushed some of those wild curls out of her dark eyes. “What about your arms? Show me the progress you’ve made.”

Khlee puffed out her cheeks once, twice. Then she strained hard enough to grow veins in her neck. The only evidence beyond that of her effort was the rigid tension in her shoulders.

Hans smiled fondly. “That’s all right, Khlee.”

She gave a violent shake of her head and clenched her jaw against the resistance. “No. Wait, Papa. I can–”

Hans placed his hands on her shoulders. “That’s enough for now. You’ll grow into them…. Now come with me.”

As he pulled Khlee onto her feet, he glanced down at her knees to make sure she didn’t aggravate her cuts. Oddly, the cuts were still there, but no longer weeping. They looked more like scabs now, as if they were halfway done healing.

“Papa?”

Hans put the thought out of his mind before Khlee could notice the concern in his face. He looked down at her and ruffled her hair. “First we’ll help your mother in the kitchen. Then I’m going to show you how to use those legs.”

Khlee shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to adjust her poncho. “What do you mean?”

With a smile, Hans gently guided her towards the door. “There’s a few folk dances from the Heine that I want to show you. You don’t need your arms for those.”

Khlee grumbled something about how dancing was stupid.

Hans only chuckled. “Trust me, meine kleine Khleo, a dance will come in handy the next time you feel like you want to break something.”

*

*

*

~ Present Day ~

“Hey, Basil.”

Lucio beckoned the mixologist over. As soon as he found out that Khleo’s coworker with the cropped salt and pepper curls and cool blue eyes was helping out that night with the club’s activities, he took the opportunity to catch the barhand’s attention.

Lucio couldn’t tell if the look Basil shot him was wary or friendly or a little bit of both. But he came down to his side of the minibar anyway and started cleaning a fresh glass.

“Montag, right? Did you need something?”

Now that Basil was closer, Lucio could count the dark marks scattered about his olive-toned skin. Lucio, who was feeling a lot more confident these days, let his eyes linger a little longer than average before speaking again.

“Enjoying the view?” Basil whispered, his eyes still on his task.

Lucio cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from the barhand’s tanned forearms.

“Say, Basil. Do you know why Khleo never fights?”

Basil finally looked up, but instead of locking eyes with Lucio, he cast his gaze over the former Count’s shoulder at the rest of the members mingling about the basement.

“Sounds like that’s not the first time you’ve asked that question.”

Lucio surrendered his hands. “I’m just curious is all. Trust me, I don’t have any plans to challenge Khlee in a fight. I’m no fool.”

Basil’s eyes finally met Lucio’s. “Khleo doesn’t fight that often because they don’t bleed. Or at least, not for very long. I have a feeling they keep out of the ring just to make everyone else feel comfortable.”

Lucio made a curious sound. “They cast some sort of regenerative spell before the fight or..?”

Basil shook his head. “It’s not magic. They’re blessed or... bewitched. Whatever you want to call it. If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask Hefe.”

Lucio glanced over at the fireplace and shuddered. “I am. Not. Doing that.”

He was briefly reminded of a few days back when he woke up in the hearth with no clue of how he got there. He remembered most of everything that happened the day before up until after the fight club had let out for the night. The very edges of his memory contained snippets of Khleo pouring themself a drink and asking Lucio if he wanted some. After that it was just a haze in which Hefe’s face sometimes showed up. She would lock Lucio into her amber stare and somehow amplify the space around his head with headache-inducing vibrations.

“Like you said,” Basil smiled a bit more openly than before, “you’re no fool.”

They laughed together and after that, their conversation flowed with much more ease. Lucio managed to ask Basil on a date before getting dragged into club meeting activities. He walked out of the bar with fresh bruises and a split lip that suffered even more under his wide, content smile.

Lucio hardly noticed the days passing him by. By now he was a pro at reserving himself a place to lay his head at night and grab breakfast in the morning for free. On the days where he didn’t have fight club to look forward to, he spent his time volunteering at the very centers where he stayed. Most of the work was boring and the people who passed through made his gut twist in sympathy, but it kept him busy.

One day, Lucio was enjoying a late breakfast of grits and sardines when a rough-looking bunch filed in. After they got their food, they collected around Lucio, who couldn’t help noticing their stares.

Some things never changed with Lucio. He still enjoyed attention. Whether he was happily getting his ass kicked in the ring or peacocking around at a masquerade party, something stirred pleasantly in his abdomen whenever all eyes were on him.

And he knew exactly why the rough newcomers had gathered around to stare at him.

“Those are some gnarly war wounds.”

Lucio grinned quietly to himself as he finished the rest of his food. “Thank you.”

One of them scooted close enough to him to bump elbows. “Tell us where you got ’em.”

Lucio coughed in order to hide a burp before looking up at the twelve or so individuals.

“Well, see here’s the thing,” he said with a sly grin. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

The curiosity on their faces immediately turned into intrigue, which got Lucio’s pulse quickening. He was enjoying this.

Several of the group glanced at one in particular. The leader, if Lucio had to guess. He was a big fella with about a dozen rings decorating his ears, creating frills of copper and obsidian glass.

“Look, we get it. You’re no rat. But me and my friends, we’re uh… a restless bunch.” He leaned over the table in order to whisper to Lucio. “We’re not looking to cause any trouble. We just need a place to let off some steam, you know?”

Lucio hesitated for a moment. “I do. I know what you mean.”

The one who had brushed elbows with him earlier, slung an arm over his shoulder and said, “So, you don’t have to tell us anything, but maybe you can point us in the general direction?”

Almost immediately after he had, the group of friends took their food and abandoned the table. Lucio sat there, a little bewildered. A part of him had expected them to stay a while and chat him up a little more.

He tried to shake off the sour feeling and just focus on looking forward to fight club. By the time evening had rolled around, Lucio’s skin was tingling with excitement. He was one of the first to arrive at the tavern basement. Khleo hadn’t returned from her delivery shift yet, but it seemed she had already set the table with bread and pilsners. These days, there was a large sign propped up on the middle of the table that read: Clean up after yourselves or no bread ever again!

The rest of the members started to file in not long after Lucio sat down. The companions he had made greeted him and gave him the attention he had been craving since that morning. At some point, Khleo swept in, looking sore and sulky from a long day’s work. But the club members knew how to lift her spirits and very soon all of them were barefoot and clustering around the center of the room, trying to decide who would be fighting first.

The friendly atmosphere, however, turned cold the moment the door that led out onto the street opened and a new presence entered the space.

“You’re telling me that there was a fight club right here under the Chandrian this whole time?”

Lucio, who was positioned near the back wall, strained to look over all of the heads between him and the new voice. Whispers broke out among the fighters.

“Who the hell are those guys?”

The intruder stepped into the light and repeated himself. “Who’s club is this? We want to talk to the manager.”

Lucio blinked suddenly as he recognized the man from Temple District. It appeared that he had brought along his whole flock from that morning and then some.

“Heard you had a friendly little club going and we wanted to see if the rumors were true. See we’ve just stolen a brand new ship and we need a bigger staff. So I’m here to recruit.”

Finally, Khleo separated herself from the sea of members. She scanned her crowd and said coldly, “Which one of you ran your damn mouth?”

Lucio felt the blood drain from his face as he drifted back and back and back into the shadows. When his spine collided with the wall, he edged to the right towards the little hallway nestled under the stairs.

His skin jumped as he heard Khleo repeat her question in a sterner tone. Lucio scrambled over crates and stumbled through racks of costumes until he was sure he was safe.

“Hello, Lucio.”

Lucio swung his fist at the sound of the voice, missed, and tripped into the brick wall hard enough to split his lip back open.

“Interesting... that they let you stay in this club.”

Lucio steadied himself against the wall. “Quaestor. W-what are you doing here?”

All that was visible in the dim light was the silhouette of Valdemar’s mummified horns.

“Bringing my tuna home of course. It’s been fourteen days. Or have you in all your frolic not been paying attention?” They came closer and drew a deep, wet breath. “Not that I’m complaining. Your blood smells more rare and ripe than I could have imagined. Well done.”

Lucio swallowed. “Wait. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go back to the Lazaret!”

It wasn’t in Valdemar’s nature to care what their experiments desired or craved. They unhatched a portal behind Lucio for easy transportation right before lifting their heel and kicking him square in the chest. Lucio stumbled backwards into the gooey blackness. Valdemar followed shortly after.

***

“You?” The challenger snorted. “You can’t be the one in charge. You’re just a squirt with freakish arms.”

“I bet they’re not even real,” one of his companions drawled. “Probably just some parlor trick glamour.”

“Get lost. You’re not recruiting anyone tonight.” Khleo said as they looked up into the eyes of the challenger with the frilled earrings. Without hesitation, he stepped up to Khleo and gave their chest an easy shove.

“We weren’t asking for permission. If your people don’t want to come with us, we’ll just take the ones we need.” He and some of his crew gestured vaguely to the weapons fastened to their hips.

Khleo lifted their chin. “If you weren’t looking for permission, why in the hell did you ask to speak to the manager?”

A couple of snickers erupted from Khleo’s side.

Earrings gave a nasty scowl before spitting by Khleo’s foot. “You got a lot of mouth for someone who calls themself the damn manager.”

“Meet me in the ring and I’ll show you how I got that title.” Khleo said. “If it ends in a KO or I tap out, you can take whoever you want.” They stretched out their hand. “And if I win, you leave us the fuck alone.”

The challenger snatched their hand up. “You’re on.”

Khleo could feel the eyes of all of the patrons. They knew what they were thinking. This wasn’t the first time some low life had found out about the club and came in trying to shake things up. The patrons must have been wondering why Khleo had chosen to fight.

I need this. I need to do this.

< I’m here. >

Khleo felt the soothing presence of their familiar across their mental link. They wished they could reach out and stroke her.

~ I know, Hefe. Thank you. ~

The challenger met them in the ring and didn’t hold back. He was a street fighter before this, that much was certain. His familiarity with Khleo’s style made them go into the defensive. He was much bigger than them and knew how to grapple correctly.

But Khleo wasn’t about to hold back. Not this time.

They gave the challenger an opening. With a sure punch, he knocked Khleo’s head back, filling the air was a short, sickening crunch. The challenger’s followers whooped in excitement while the fight club members gasped in disbelief.

Khleo staggered, but instinctively raised their elbows around their head.

“See?” The challenger scoffed. “I knew you were all talk. You practically let me hit you.”

Khleo stopped swaying and firmly planted their feet. They lowered their arms and pulled themself out of the hunch so everyone could see what happened to their face.

The challenger sneered in distaste at what he was seeing.

Khleo stared right back at him, refusing to cradle their unhinged jaw, seemingly unaware of the blood leaking from where teeth and jawbone had torn their skin apart. Khleo snapped their head hard enough to seal off the gaping chasm. The crowd’s disgusted groans turned into gasps of disbelief at the sight of Khleo’s jaw stitching itself together.

“Go on,” they said, wiping the leftover blood on the back of their hand. “Hit me again.”

The challenger didn’t look like he wanted to do anything of the sort, but it was clear that the approval of his crew meant a lot to him. Khleo hoped he would walk away, she really hoped he would. But all he did by staying was make himself a target. For their anger, their frustration, every weight that had been added onto them in the past few weeks.

Khleo didn’t hold back her strength as she fought. The challenger was no match for her and this fight was not fair. But Khleo went over the edge a long time ago. She didn’t care.

There were so many things she couldn’t fight back against. So she fought the challenger. She fought and fought and clawed at his decorated ears with her blunt fingernails. She emptied out all her kicks and elbows to his face until it was unrecognizable.

Khleo wrestled their opponent to the ground and fired a right hook to his cheek. All the bystanders were screaming now. This was no longer a fight. It was bloodsport. And Khleo knew better than anyone how silly with delight a crowd could get from it.

In an attempt to regain some control, the challenger roared in defiance and cracked his forehead against Khleo’s nose.

The crowd erupted with excitement.

Khleo slowed down, bringing the challenger close enough so that he could see her nose render and heal with his own eyes. The incredulous terror in the challenger’s eyes made Khleo break into a wide, blood-stained grin.

“You should kill me and see what happens.”

He tried to tap out. “Okay, you win. You win!” The longer he looked at her, the more his lip trembled in fear for his life. Tears and snot soon mixed with the blood leaking from his contorted face.

Khleo ignored their own rules and snarled, “What the fuck are you crying for? You’re the one who came up in my house! And for what? To intimidate my friends into joining your disgusting crew?”

“I’m sorry! I said I was done!”

The tapout had served its purpose – to snap everyone else out of their bloodlust. They tried to talk Khleo down, reminding her that it was over. When they started to pull her off of the man, Khleo thrashed.

“No – Let me go! If he wants to cry, I’ll give him something to cry about!”

She lunged. The challenger begged for his crew to help. The seconds that followed were simply pandemonium. Patrons and the intruders clashed, wrestling each other to the ground. Several fighters dogpiled Khleo at once in order to protect the challenger. She wheezed under their crushing weight.

Then the sounds of fighting were interrupted by a wild, guttural roar. The cacophony of screams that followed caused Khleo to twist in agony.

“There’s a fucking lion in here!”

Khleo drew in a ragged breath as the weight lifted from her back. She scrambled to her feet. Not long after she righted herself did she hear something that made her blood run cold.

The door at the top of the stairs flung open and a booming voice filled the space.

“What in the gods-damned fuck is going on down there!”

People were already running and tripping over each other, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the lion. Khleo tried to reach out to Hefe through their link, but it was too late. Otto was already at the bottom of the stairs, taking in the mess of the basement as well as the enormous lion terrorizing all of his potential customers.

~ Hefe. He saw you. Go! ~

Hefe didn’t argue with her human. She stole out into the street, chasing off the last of the challenger’s crew. Once she was gone, Khleo turned to face their boss. They took a deep breath because they knew they were in for it.

Khleo needed a miracle. Because she was certain that after tonight, there wouldn’t be any more fight club.

[peechbea]

@yukiteruakari said: Ooooh I wanna know more about your headcanons :>>

idk if you meant abt the fic or Leon in general but i’m using this opportunity to ramble anyway, rip-

right off the bat, i hc that Leon’s mother died during childbirth and his father was devastated about it, but in order to support himself and Leon, he moved in with his brother and sister-in-law. since Leon grew up in the same house as Kanon, that's why he views her as more of a sister than a cousin

this is one i’ve already talked about here BUT, i hc Leon’s real name to be Kazuo Kuwata, but that’s also his father’s name, so before he changed his name, people called his father by his name and then they called Leon “Kazzy” or “Kaz”

( hearing people call Kazuichi “Kaz” still throws him for a loop )

he doesn’t like violence actually!! he’s temperamental and snarky sometimes, but he’ll avoid violence whenever he can, unless he has to, yknow,,,defend himself, just in case that would ever happen lol-

to add onto the above, i also like to think he stays far away from violence because he didn’t as a kid and it landed him in juvie ( which i also like to think is where he met Mondo briefly, but neither of them really remember each other )

and to add onto THAT, while he will avoid throwing a punch if he can, he will absolutely intervene if other people are getting hurt. even at the risk of his own safety, he’ll be the diversion so the original victim can escape bc, unlike the victim, he actually CAN defend himself if he needs to

in the game, it’s quickly brushed over but they mention breakfast meetings and after Toko says she’s never had breakfast with anyone before, Leon also joins in and says that it’s “been a while for him too”, so i like to think he USED to have breakfast with his family a lot as a kid, but then when tensions grew between him and his dad, he eventually stopped showing up altogether

the hair stylist he talks about in his FTE is actually an ultimate and a good friend of his and her name is Kaori, but they only really talked in the time Leon attended Hope’s Peak so he forgot her name by the time the KG rolled around

his hair is actually brown and surprisingly wavy, he just slathers it in hair gel to keep it upright

to add onto the above, Kazuo has blonde hair and green eyes while Leon has brown hair and blue eyes, which are both traits of his mother. the fact that he looks so much like her yet keeps changing his appearance is another thing that pisses his dad off, mans never coped with her death properly

this one may get a little long, but bear with me: when he and Kanon were kids, his dad was incredibly closed off emotionally, his uncle was VERY busy, and his aunt always felt like she was trying to be his mom and he didn’t really like that, i like to believe there wasn’t really anyone for he or Kanon to go to if there was a problem. so, in order to be the big brother figure he believed Kanon wanted him to be, he shoved his own emotions and problems way down and focused on helping her instead. since he was really the only person who ever cared for her or tried to support her, that’s why she got way too attached to him. he just didn’t realize how bad it was until they got older, and he feels bad about possibly cutting her off because there’s no one else for her to go to.

thanks to how he grew up, he is INCREDIBLY closed off and doesn’t like showing his emotions to anyone because helping people is HIS job, he can’t have people help him if they see him break, that’s not how it works 

AND ANOTHER THING, since he often felt alone as a kid, he sought out attention from other people, so he thrived on the approval that baseball gave him. eventually, he kind of got addicted to that attention and would seek it out in any way he could. he quickly found out that bad attention often kept people talking about him more often than good attention did, so he built up a reputation as a player even though he was never really interested in girls to begin with

( speaking of, i do think he is homoromantic/pansexual, if that clears up any confusion there might’ve been rip )

he's also just, really good at masking how he feels?? like, i could look at his behavior in chapter 1 as just something to make the game run smoothly, but i wanna look at it like this: Leon is panicking, he's stressed because he committed a murder that he JUST found out he's going to have to try and get away with, and yet his behavior doesn't even change. he wears his usual mask, makes his usual comments, still has the balls to be kind of an ass to Toko, and all this while he's probably crumbling inside. he has had so long to cover his feelings, man-

also?? he will always introduce himself as “Leon Kuwata”, but when he’s alone and talks to himself out loud, he still refers to himself as Kazuo

despite being an extrovert, he's still incredibly anxious, and that extends to public outings!! because of this, he's developed a kind of code for his friends so they know what he needs since words don't always work. a tug to someone's sleeve means "i need a second to calm down", two tugs means "i'm uncomfortable" or "i don't like this conversation/what's happening", and three means "my social battery is out" or "i need to leave ASAP"

the clip on his jacket and all those rings + his necklace??? they're there for show, mans has ADHD he needs stuff to fidget with

sometimes his brain is on autopilot and his thoughts mix with that autopilot, which sucks when he has to sign autographs. there’s been times where he’s signed things as “Kazuo Kuwata” and just prayed no one mentioned it

he doesn't trust easily!! not because he doubts people's intentions, but because he can't be sure they won't try to 1) use his fame to propel themselves upwards or 2) help him with his problems, which circles back to an earlier point. he loves to be seen but god forbid anyone understand him

his wikipedia page? nearly empty. it has his feats and public information on it, but stuff like his birthday or his real name aren't correct. the part where it would mention his life story & background is completely blank. he's also edited his height to say 6'0" ( ~182 cm ), this is not true, his shoes just give him a little extra height

 this one is just self indulgent but i like to think he’s drawn to Byakuya because he has his entire life planned out for him and has for a long time, meanwhile Leon has no idea what he wants to settle on for sure and is anxious/stressed but Byakuya never seems to be like that. he always seems cool and collected, and as Leon’s polar opposite, it’s only natural that he’s drawn to him