#anyways if I can keep this excitement and momentum up for the rest of the month that bodes Very Well for my ability

[arrowpunk]

One of these days I will figure out the secret to turning my brain off to go to sleep when it is in Project Mode and then it's Over for you fools

[ratsummer]

Okay so I have seen headcanons here and there about the abbey having a nursery for the ghoul kits and human babies and I LOVE THAT. I've been having a rough few days so I've been thinking a lot about what that looks like c: Maybe someday I'll type up my thoughts on what the system overall looks like, but for now...

How would our beloved band ghouls interact with the little ones??

I'm starting with Swiss! Maybe this will become a little series if I feel like it/anyone wants to know what I think about the other ghouls c:

Though I believe there's a dedicated nursery staff in the abbey, I think they always welcome and encourage volunteers to come hang out so the babies can socialize with all kinds of different people! Swiss is one of the ghouls regularly assigned to work nursery shifts when things slow down a bit for the band, but the rest of the time I think he visits voluntarily because he likes it.

Overall, I think Swiss is super great with kids of all ages. He's got deep wells of energy and patience, and though he of course loves playtime, he also actively enjoys most elements of caretaking! Keeping everyone fed, clean, and cozy can be fun too! He helps with everyone, but his most favorite group to spend time with? The toddlers.

Ghoul kits becoming ambulatory is... interesting! Like many human babies, they typically start with some scooting and then get into crawling. But, I think ghoul kits stay in the crawling phase for much longer than humans. After all, they have those pesky tails to figure out, too! Switching to walking on two legs is so hard when everyone is cheering for you, and that's exciting so your tail starts wagging, and then you're thrown off balance, and then you're on the floor, and yeah that's annoying, so maybe you should cry about it... or stick to moving around on four limbs because it's way faster anyway! Practicing moving around on four legs for a while longer lets them build up their little hip and ab muscles, especially while their tail moves around with their emotions.

But just...

Swiss on his knees behind one of the kits who is so close to figuring out walking upright on their own. He's got an arm on either side of the little one, hands just in front of them. The kit is little bitty tiny, maybe air, so even though they're using their whole entire hands, their little grip doesn't quite extend all the way around even one of Swiss' fingers.

Swiss has propped up one of their favorite toys, a big plush bear almost the same size as the kit, against an armchair just a few feet away.

"You see your bear-bear, baby?" Swiss coos, bouncing his hands a bit to jiggle the kit's arms.

The kit is shrieking in delight, little tail lashing around and whacking into Swiss' stomach. Their giggles are infectious, and Swiss' face aches from the strength of his smile.

"I know, baby! Should we go get your bear??" Swiss moves his arms just a smidge forward, gently encouraging the kit to take a step.

Their chubby little leg jerks forward a bit awkwardly, but with a confidence that sends Swiss' heart soaring. This kit had been one of the more shy, timid babies when they had come into the abbey's care. They rarely smiled, much less laughed, just taking in the world around them with big eyes and arms held tight to their chest. They'd arrived during a busier time of year for the band ghouls, but Swiss had met and interacted with them enough times to see the remarkable change in their energy. He made a mental note to shower kisses on the nursery ghouls specializing in infant care.

"Yes! Well done, my darling!" Swiss cheers, scooting along on his knees behind the kit. They're taking strong, only slightly wobbly steps toward the bear. "Go get bear-bear! He wants a hug!"

Swiss squirms a finger out of the kit's grip, but they maintain their awkward forward momentum with only one finger to hold. They're practically bouncing as they lurch toward their bear, bright laughter filling the room.

When the kit finally makes it to the plush toy, they let go of Swiss and flop onto its round belly, giggling and nuzzling into its neck. Swiss claps and hollers for the kit, cheering and celebrating their hard won victory.

"You did it, my love!" He coos, rubbing the kit's back. His heart melts over how tiny they are, his hand spanning the entirety of their torso. "I'm so proud of you! You're getting so strong!"

The kit flails a little bit but is quickly turned back around to face Swiss, a huge grin lighting up their face. They only laugh harder when they see him, the big, gasping laughs that they nearly choke on.

"I know, baby! Aren't you cl-"

The words catch in Swiss's throat as the kit pulls themselves up on their feet, a bit wobbly, but notably standing up with no outside support. He watches on, breathless, as they hold their tail out behind them, mostly still, and put their arms out to the side for balance. They take one tiny step, and then another, stuttering laughs breaking through their sudden and intense focus.

Swiss holds his hands out toward the kit, ready to catch them, but otherwise not interfering. They take only two more steps before their toe catches on the rug and they go lurching forward, but instantly Swiss is scooping them up and jumping to his feet.

"You did it!" He cries, dancing around while holding the kit on his hip, "You walked all by yourself!" As he whirls around, the kit in his arms matches his joy with their shrieks. "Oh, clever baby!"

Swiss stops spinning around to pull the kit up onto his chest so he can nuzzle under their chin and around their neck, scenting them thoroughly. He's purring so hard his chest hurts, but he's just so overwhelmed he can't help it. When the kit starts a cooing purr through their laughs, Swiss starts kissing and play-nibbling over their face and hair, making gobbling sounds as he goes.

"What a sweet little kit," he says between kisses, "I think I'm going to have to eat you up! I don't have much time left, soon you're going to be able to run away!"

An exaggerated gasp from the door has Swiss turning on his heel to find one of the main infant through toddler caretakers making their way in, a snack for the kit in hand. When the kit sees them they're instantly squirming and screeching in delight and reaching for their caretaker, and Swiss happily hands them over.

"Don't worry baby, I've got you now! I won't let Swiss eat you!"

And because Swiss is a deeply sentimental ghoul he is going to immediately detail what just happened and he is going to start crying about seeing a kit's first steps and generally just be gooey about it and you cannot change my mind!!! Aaaah!!

So ya ghouls with kits on my mind has been keeping me saaaaaane recently and I have so so many thoughts!!! Idk if I'll write anymore BUT look out who knows! I have a stressful week ahead lmao save me ghouls with kits save me 😭

[clickerflight]

Voltober 5. The Ship's Going Down - The Price of War

Author's notes: You don't UNDERSTAND! They are so CUTE!!! BETTEL MY BABY BOIIIII and I also got to do some more worldbuilding for the elves and they're so fun! Enjoy!

Challenge list - Voltober 4

Content: Elf whumpee, boat crash, drowning, child whumpee

Drowning | Shipwrecked | Capsized

@voltober

Bettelenian ran down the bank, laughing as he was chased by one of his older cousins towards the small boats. They had worked all month to make the little crafts so they could go out on the lake. The expanse of water was so huge you couldn’t really see the other side, and it had become a challenge in their minds to try and make it to the lake town of gnomes on the other side without the aid of their parents’ magic powered boats.

“Come on, Bettel! You can go faster than that!” Kelliaron called out as he chased his younger cousin. “Run, run run!”

Eager to impress, Bettel ran faster, pumping his legs as fast and as hard as he could, pounding across the rocky sand so hard his feet hurt until he reached the boats, putting his hands out to smack into the side of one and stop his momentum. He turned, grinning, as Kelli cheered. “You’re fast! You’re going to put everyone in the footraces at Autumn Fest to shame,” he said, ruffling Bettel’s unbound hair.

Bettle grinned, glowing with pride as Kelli’s sister, Lorckani, and their other cousin, Gilopticous, made their way along the shore in a slower and more dignified manner, chatting with one another.

Bettle got up into the boat, his legs shaking a little from the exertion, still panting as Kelli unblocked an untied the boat.

Lorcka and Gilop made their way to the other boat and Gilop called out, “Do you think this is going to be the trip we make it?”

“If our parents don’t catch us,” Kelli said with a grin as Lorcka unmoored her boat and Gilop climbed in, letting the bigger cousin push the boat out. He usually helped push when he was with Kelli, but Lorcka liked doing it herself now that she was getting to be bigger than them, female elves typically growing to be two heads taller than male elves.

Bettel watched, his breathing settling down. He giggled as Kelli pushed the boat over the sand and into the water. Skilled at this now, Kelli hopped in before the water could lap at his feet and he grabbed an oar, pushing them out the rest of the way.

Bettel grabbed an oar as well and paddled along, good at working alongside his cousins, even if he was smaller. The two boats sailed out into the lake with minimum wobble, nothing like their first few attempts that dumped them out into the shallow water.

They laughed and talked as they made their way out, the sun beating down on their white hair, a reminder of when their particular race of elves, the South Lakern tribe, used to intermingle with gnomes.

“How long do you think it will take to get to the other side?” Bettel asked, looking over the edge of the boat down at the water hoping to see a fish.

“In one of the grown up boats it’s about an hour. So I think for us it might be three,” Lorcka said. “That’s why we started so early, Gilop.” She poked her cousin in the side and he laughed, elbowing her.

“You know I like sleeping in. You could have just left me.”

“Then who would have helped me paddle?”

Kelli chuckled, paddling leisurely so Bettel could keep up with his pace.

Time passed peacefully on the lake, the clouds large and fluffy above them. The four of them sang the boat songs they knew before they started trying to make up their own.

“High up clouds sing!” Bettel suggested eagerly after listening to his cousins suggest lines.

“Clouds don’t sing,” Lorcka said with a frown. “They seem more like the humming type to me.”

“Well, maybe they’re very excited clouds.”

“Guys, what do clouds have to do with the beavers making dams anyway,” Gilop pointed out. “It’s a good line, though, Bettel. Maybe we can use it in the next song.”

Bettel huffed.

“Ooh! We could make this song kind of like a beaver working song,” Kelli said.

“A beaver working song?”

“Well, yeah, what else do they do when they’re looking for a good tree to gnaw down or patting down all of those sticks,” Kelli said with a shrug.

“That’s fair. But then wouldn’t it be rude to make one for them since we aren’t beavers?”

“Uuuuh…. That’s a good point.”

Before they could discuss the matter further they all heard the soft hum of a magic boat. A boat skidded over the water, a group of rowdy looking young adults on it.

They grinned and laughed and waved at the young teens on their small paddle boats and approached quickly. Too quickly!

“Stop!” Kelli cried out in alarm, trying to paddle out of the way, Bettel following his example, but the inexperienced young adults overshot where they wanted to stop, their bow plowing right through Bettel and Kelli’s boat.

Bettel was thrown painfully into the water, and he kicked out to push off from the bottom, but he couldn’t find the bottom. There was no bottom. There was no up or down. He had never been in water this deep and the terror that gripped him was like nothing he had ever felt before.

He struggled, arms and legs kicking, but his legs ached from his run and his arms wobbled from how long he’d been paddling and he was already almost out of air since he hadn’t gotten a good breath when he was thrown from the boat.

His chest burned, trying to convince him that breathing water was better than breathing nothing.

He gave one last fever pitch of a struggle, opening his eyes under water even though it was scary, but his hair enveloped his vision, and bubbles erupted around his frantic motions. He couldn’t see! He didn’t know where he was or if he was upside down and there was blackness rimming the edges of his vision.

His movements slowed as he fought to keep from breathing. Someone had to save him. They all saw him fall in, why was no one coming in to save him?

He closed his eyes, his mouth popping open, water flowing in to explore his lungs.

In the next moment he vomited it all out, his stomach and diaphragm cramping as he did so, coughing and curling up around his bruised chest.

“He’s alive!” someone shouted in excitement and another rubbed his chest encouragingly. “Give me a big cough, Bettel.”

Bettel didn’t need much prompting as he tried to take a deeper breath and found himself coughing harder than he’d ever coughed in his whole life, more water spewing up. He kept going, forcing another cough to get out more of the water before someone deemed that enough was out they could pick him up and hold him close, a hand on the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice said in his ear and he realized that it was his youngest uncle holding him, only recently become an adult. “I’m so sorry, Bettel. Are you alright?”

Bettel tried to speak, but it hurt too much to say anything intelligible, a sad little croak escaping instead.

“What were you all doing racing around like that!” Lorcka shouted. “That was so stupid! And now our parents are going to forbid all of us from playing in the water alone until we’re all 80! You could have killed Bettelenian!”

“It was an accident! We didn’t-”

Bettel whimpered and everyone fell silent, coming in closer to make sure he was okay. He just wanted to go home and lay in his bed.

“It’s okay, Bettel. You’re going to be okay. Let’s get you back.”

Bettel nodded and opened teary eyes to watch over his uncle’s shoulder at the ruined bits of his and Kelli’s boats floating on the water as the magic boat pulled swiftly away, tugging along the other slightly damaged paddle boat with it.

VTB 6

The Price of War Masterlist

The Price of war: @fleur-a-whump @percy-frayer @starsick1979 @hellodecisionparalysis @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

@thecyrulik @scatteriskity

[tehrevving]

Rev you said that Chaos Theory had to end here, but why? I'm not a writer. I don't know why can't you just keep going?

Starting off the Chaos Theory Wrap Party with this question!!!!!

There will be spoilers in these answers, but the story is finished to does it matter. Anyway, these will be tagged as "Chaos Theory Wrap Party" if you wanna hide them. Feel free to keep sending in questions! Anyway, let's get started!!!

Of course Chaos Theory wasn't just about smut. It was about relationship building and breaking down Vincent's walls... with smut 😅. It would be extremely difficult, basically impossible, for me to keep that narrative momentum going if I continue on with the Rebirth story.

They go off to the Temple of the Ancients, where heaps of plot happens, but there's not really any chance for relationship building, or sex lol. Then after that Aerith dies, which isn't conductive to that sort of thing either. Then Rebirth ends. Being that we don't know the rest of the Re-trilogy plot yet, and because I don't wanna just make stuff up, Chaos Theory would have needed to end around that point anyway.

If I'd continued on then the whole last chunk of the fic would be completely different to the rest of it. That would be completely fine if I could just keep going afterwards with the Part 3 story, but because I'm not going to. I decided to end it.

This frees me up to write some oneshots/interludes that sort of exist out of time, and also to write the trip to the Temple of the Ancients anyway, without having to rely on how it affects the pacing of the actual fic.

I will eventually be writing the Temple of the Ancients and it will have a heap of plot and lore in it, but no smut unfortunately. If anyone can think of an interesting, plot relevant (not sex pollen lmao) way that I can have the two of them fuck at the Temple, then I would be so excited to hear it lol.

[raindroppoetry]

I haven't taken a break from writing for anything but symptom management since February 2023, but this week, my stress for keeping the writing momentum going for well over a year kinda caught up with me and I took a break.

During this week, I've had a lot of ideas for other fics, but also for the current one I've been editing for about a month now. I've felt less stressed, gained some new perspective on rest and perfectionism (I should lower my standards by several notches and take regular breaks, lol)

But what's been the best is that I had time to really miss writing and instead of the empty, braindead bucket my head's been the past weeks of editing, I've been brimming with news ideas (mostly for other works, but it felt really good to dream up new stories) and missed my current story. I remembered I loved writing it before it got too stressful.

The fic is 80k words almost to the dot. It's a beast to rework through and I wanted to sprint through it. Just like a marathon runner sprints through the journey without rest or water breaks am I right.

So this all to remind myself (and maybe you too, if you're reading and need it) that breaks are good, creativity needs rest, it feels so good to be excited for your project and rest can renew that.

I'll edit today, but I'll probably take next week off, too, or I'll take another week off later in the summer, depending on how I'm feeling after I get back to work. Anyway, what's important about writing is how fun it is. I need to nurture that.

[darlingpoppet]

any updates on wtdf? i hope u have a wonderful day 💕

Hi anon! Thanks so much for checking in! And thanks for doing it on tumblr, this is a good opportunity to push me out of lurk mode and refill my queue while offering some much needed updates!

Anyways, the short answer is: WTDF chapter 8 is coming along, albeit more slowly than I intended, and it might still be another month or two before it’s finally done.

The longer explanation is this: Chapter 8 is another doozy like chapter 4 was… if you read the notes for chapter 4, or read my other WTDF-related posts here on tumblr, then perhaps you’re familiar with the fact that completing that chapter was also a protracted process that juggled a different fic project with a fixed deadline, a bout of writer’s block, and inspiration wandering to some different one-shots before ultimately getting me back on-track. I’m a bit sorry to say that I seem to be unintentionally experiencing an exact repeat of last year 🥲💦

In April, when I was still on-track to finish the chapter within my self-imposed deadline, a friend asked me to pinch-hit for their zine, and I was happy to put all my own projects on the back burner for a couple of weeks while I helped out a friend in-need. Once that project was finished at the end of April I immediately got back to work on WTDF, but less than two weeks in (right around the time Hades II Early Access dropped, so I was already a little bit distracted lol) I got saddled with a leadership position preparing for an event at my kid’s kindergarten, which took up 100% of my free time as well as the complete use of my hands (because A LOT of crafting was also involved lol.) So for the rest of May, zero writing got done (though I listened to a lot of podcasts and youtube video essays during that time, I’m thinking of making a rec list sometime of the stuff I enjoyed just for fun!)

And now here we are toward the end of June and the chapter still isn’t done. Even now I keep huffing the copium by telling myself I can finish it by the end of the month, but I’m gonna be honest: all of the interruptions & delays have left me struggling to get back in the right headspace for this story & at this point I admit that I seem to have fallen into another writer’s block 🥲 The last couple of weeks have been me making incremental progress while also trying to refill my cups.

I really hoped I could finish it this month because I’m already planning on doing camp nanowrimo in July to FINALLY finish the draft for the dreamers AU that has also been in the works for over a year now. And tbh that’s the story that I’m now daydreaming about as I start to get myself back into the writing zone. So I think I just gotta Trust The Process on this one and strike the iron where it’s hot for now, because at least I can point to my experience last year and give credit to my fics Closest & Flourishing for giving me the needed momentum to finally get WTDF Ch 4 over the finish line (followed by a streak of productivity that lasted me pretty much up until this point!)

So while I’m sorry that this means WTDF Ch 8 is gonna continue to be delayed a bit longer, I also think it’ll be worth it in the end when I have both these projects finished and I’m feeling good about the direction the inspiration is taking them. FWIW a lot of the ideas & themes I’m thinking about for the dreamers AU—such as prolonged periods of transition, coming of age, and the liminal qualities of queerness & gender identity—they are helping ideas coalesce in my approach to WTDF Ch 8, which, as I may have mentioned before, is a treatment of the Skyros arc. It’s actually fitting that I’m working on these projects both at the same time because I think they’re actively making one another better, which means I’m getting even more excited to complete & share them! The dreamers AU seems likely to be split into two parts at this point, so it makes sense to me to sandwich the WTDF update in between those. I can never really make concrete promises about my publishing schedule anymore, but for now at least, that’s the plan.

Anyways sorry for the longwinded & possibly boring explanation/list of excuses. But I appreciate your ask, it means a lot to know that people care 🥹🙏 Thank you everyone for their patience so far!!! I know I’m slow haha but everyone has been nothing but kind & understanding about it <3

You have a wonderful day as well ❤️

[savrenim]

i saw your post about anime bullshit vs ifmlam and can i just say im so glad you're having so much fun writing? i discovered you through ifmlam but i've been shoving your other fics and patreon and original stuff straight into my mouth because i love your style and knowing that you're having a good time even with the fic that definitely comes from a Different Time Of Your Life is just. really cool idk

aaaaah thank you so much!!!! 

yeah it's really fun and funny looking at my writing over both short and long time frames because there's so much of me stamped in? like there are the tiny things like sometimes when I'm lazy coming up with idiosyncrasies for characters (everything from "I'm going to give you my coffee order" to "I'm going to give you my childhood hyperfixation with volcanoes"*) to obviously with my fanfiction there is the Piece Of Fiction I Was Obsessed With At The Time but also a lot of the original fiction that I have I can pinpoint the setting influences and vibe influences of both stories that I liked but also Other Things That Were Going On In My Life and it just kind of feels like my whole body of work traces my emotional state and the things I was excited about and loved and hated in weird subtle ways and I really like that, the same way that like. the playlists that I've made and listen to on repeat for months at a time have. 

and it also kind of feeds into most of my projects are multi-year projects to ever finish but I never really try to build them around the expectation that I'll feel the same way for a decade, I build them around feelings that I know will be meaningful time capsules? like the way that I choose tattoos: as things that will mean something to me because they represent something important that I felt, not that I feel 

and I guess I'm really glad that I'm in a space where ifmlam is actually exciting to me again, bc it was something that was a huge positive to me for so long and it was a piece of work that not only am I really proud of what I'd written but there are so many upcoming parts that I'm even prouder of and I'm really glad that I never gave up and posted the outline of the rest of it bc it is fun to look back on who I was and how I wrote and take a break from who I am and what I've been doing for the last 5-6 years and return to a previous place both with what's changed and what hasn't. it's nostalgic and it feels right. I think I needed the break but also never needed to throw out the baby with the bathwater and I'm glad that I didn't. and like. maybe I'm having Emotions bc my life is Changing right now faster and more drastically than it ever has before and I think vastly for the better? but boy is it Emotions.

anyways this is a long and rambly way of saying that yeah, ifmlam is officially coming back; there are 2130 words of the next chapter (and oops a bit of a life update) on my patreon right now, and whether or not the patreon keeps voting for that as my open work to guarantee my working on it, I think enough momentum is built up that a new chapter will be posted-posted in like. 3ish months tops? and I'm loathe to make predictions about my life given how unpredictable my life is being right now but maybe possibly it's getting to a place where ifmlam is back on a "sporadic every few months updates" track rather than a "several years of hiatus in between new chapter drops" track???? but I guess we'll see. I'm really having a fun time letting my patreon vote on stuff bc while "wait for inspiration to strike for any given project" is a fun way to do things, I've also realized that I've got so many multi-year projects to finish that crowdsourcing some of what I'm working on makes me feel like I'm making progress on things that matter rather than stalling out on everything bc it's all going at once 

although also speaking of next few months and things no longer stalling even with it being The Most Anime Bullshit thing I've ever written GODS am I excited for Opus I and I think that one's also???? coming really soon??????? as in only a few months??????????

*neither of these have appeared yet in anything published please no one waste time pouring through everything I've ever published to try to find these examples

[agendergorgon]

I finished my mini of Iron Man tonight which means I've now painted every character in both Marvel Crisis Protocol Core Sets. A few years apart, with a lot of practice in between.

Proof that Tony Stark looks cooler in shiny gold. Don't know why I made the OG corset version of him so muted. Second most improved sculpt between versions of a character, I'll save the best for last but to save time wow the original MCP Avengers line up sure are standing with one hand forward and one hand to the side/back. You'll see on the following slides, Captain Marvel is the best posed of them.

See below for a bunch more of two similar dudes stood next to one another

Star Spangled Man. I made the first one vibrant so to compensate I made the new version of Cap dull and dark. He's got the Ultimate Captain America colours now. And a tactical rock. As far as I'm concerned, thats America's rock.

I did a poor job on the first Black Widow model and I didn't know she came in white but I liked the idea of the palette swap. Plus I wanted to practice painting white better. I can't believe she's killing Tony Stark.

Darol Canvers. I Wanted to give the other Captain Marvel a more Ms Marvel look. Plus I keep seeing Antares from Ward on my dash so I had black and gold on my mind. I kinda like how my first one came out but every so often I look at her chest and she looks as emaciated as a Xenomorph. Or Sil from Species.

Trying to paint the Spectacular Spider Man as Spider Man 3 taught me a valuable lesson. Never try and start with white and pick out the top parts in black. Slow, painful, and it didn't even really work out well. On to the villains.

The Red Skull from the OG core set is a nice recreation of his Captain America the First Avenger costume and part of why I love MCP because this officious greatcoat and other serious mcp pouch and line laden costumes are sharing a game space with much goofier comic booky designs. Anyway, Red Skull's new core set version is much more excited to show off his cube. First sculpt is more passive but I think that works to its benefit, makes it stand out amongst dynamic hero poses.

Baron Zemo has the best costume here. I didn't do his jacket too well but the bomber jacket just goes so well with the rest. His pose lulls the opponent into a false sense of security before they read his card and realise that he can clear half the board and back in one turn. New Zemo has more momentum but doesn't slay as hard. I tried non-metallic metals on his sword, need to practice that more.

Bane is my all-time favourite Batman villain. With the original one I wanted to try and mix the colour scheme of Tom Hardy's Bane with the glowing veins of the Arkham games and many other Banes. The newer Bane sculpt is more quiet and cerebral, gun discarded while he contemplates his foe and makes a show of muscle. Accordingly, he's themed after the softer spoken Bane of Batman the Animated series.

Ultron and Doctor Doom. Neither of these are Iron Man villains but they are metal so they do frequently appear across from him in board games, video games etc. Ultron was meant to be styled like he is in the movie but I don't think it came out that well. Nice pose, not much action to him tho. Doctor Doom has a calmer pose but the thrust and cape sell him better. Surprisingly the least changed character design between core boxes tho I'd say.

Doctor Octopus is my least favourite sculpt in the original Marvel Crisis Protocol Core Set. Stood stock still. Arms folded. Those tentacles don't convey much either beyond wiggling I botched his colours bad and just drybrushed Leadbelcher for the tentacles. To compensate I laboured over the new Doc Ock, the sculptors and manufacturers deserve praise, I'll buy em a pint if I ever meet em. Best sculpt in the new core set. The elevation. The greatcoat that calls back to Alfred Molina but slides atop comic booky spandex. I gave him plum hair to distinguish it from the jacket more, I think it makes him look a lil fruity.

[kalihaze604]

flare ups still suck

Tuesday, January 23rd, 12am

the elevator in my building has been broken for over a week now and living on the top floor has become annoying as hell for my disabled body. Staff are pretty much useless and most are scared to even leave the office or look at me like I’m insane for asking for help carrying heavy stuff up and down the stairs, like as if they have no clue what an “invisible disability” is. I didn’t get any choices in terms of housing when I moved here. When it was time for me to leave transitional housing after fleeing violence, I was only offered this one room. No other housing options were presented to me other than “well you can go steal a tent from army and navy if this isn’t adequate”. Anyways. This building is way worse than the one that I left due to fleeing violence and psychosis. Like I thought Atira would be safer because they marketed themselves as “ending violence against women” which was literally nothing more than marketing because womens safety wasn’t even so much as an afterthought here. I’ve been assaulted by Atira employees in the past. I’ve had my storage locker broken into and had thousands of dollars of belongings stolen by staff. There’s no accountability here. Last time the elevator broke, it was out of service for half a year and management thought it was fine for disabled and paraplegic folks using wheelchairs and walkers to crawl up and down the stairs on their hands and knees or slide down on their butt. Apparently that was okay in management’s eyes? That the building was completely inaccessible to tenants?! I don’t expect anything to get fixed here in a timely fashion and I don’t expect staff to help, even if their job is literally to be a tenant support worker helping tenants. They don’t even wanna do their job, just sit on their ass, scared in the office. So I climbed 32 flights of stairs on Friday while doing my laundry. That’s just going from the laundry room to my room. The only staff member that helped me was a middle aged dude with severe osteoporosis and a torn left meniscus. The only staff member that had a shred of empathy and cared to help was in just as much pain as I was. Work was dead on Friday but my body was already feeling exhausted. Saturday was the busiest work night of the year so far and Sunday I just crashed and slept all day and same with Monday. I realized I pushed my body too hard trying to get all that laundry done as I’d been postponing it while waiting for the elevator to get fixed. Then I pushed myself again at work on Saturday. My flare ups used to last about 3 days of intense excruciating pain where I wouldn’t get out of bed. So I’m hoping that I’ll start feeling better today/Tuesday? My body is sooo sore from all the stairs. I didn’t manage to go out for any daily walks in the last couple days, I guess I’ve just been riding out the pain and trying to take it easy and catch up on resting. This week I really want to start doing more yoga at home. I got a new yoga mat recently and I’m really excited to return to my practice even if it means I have to move a bunch of stuff just to create enough floor space to put my mat down. My body needs to stretch, my body needs gentle movement. I felt like I was going to faint in the shower today and my body was shaking so badly, another side effect of the broken elevator is not wanting go to buy groceries or stock up on anything because nobody will likely help me carry my groceries up the stairs. I didn’t end up doing any baking last week/weekend, but I’m hoping to make purple sweet potato brownies this week?? I feel like I have so many goals and so much ambition this year, but life is really challenging me and it’s hard to stay on track and keep momentum building.

[ofstormsandfire]

aaaa- both fics that I’ve started reading and need to get back to T^T how could you do this </3 /j

And here the rest that I wanted to ask-🍄 🤔🛠

Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!!

Lol I promise the fics are not going anywhere :P

🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

...Huh I just realized describe is spelled wrong in the ask game lol.

Anyway, let's go with a wip that hasn't seen the light of AO3 yet (but I'm very very excited to write eventually and very very normal about)

"bloodborne boss + player's role in the plot = something approaching a fix-it fic?"

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I mean that dependdddss on what you mean by "haven't even started yet." Um. I'll cover all my bases to be safe.

If we go with the strictest definition possible, well... some friends of mine got me into pokeblogging, which is a silly little thing where you blog like you're in the world of pokemon, and it would be very fun to novelize the story of one of my too-many blogs in particular. (I have too many WIPs already though so if that ever happens it Won't Be For A While.)

If we go by the definition of "have notes but no actual writing" maybe that weird crossover between Hollow Knight and Undertale where Hallownest is underneath the Underground. It would be called "Where the Waterfall Ends: A Documentary" and be set in post-canon for both Undertale and Hollow Knight, and it would feature Undyne and Alphys having a silly little youtube channel where they investigate paranormal sightings and magical rumors. The big question of "so where DOES that waterfall go anyway" ends up being a lot bigger than they bargained for.

If we go by the definition of "some amount of writing done but nothing posted," probably the fic I mentioned for the "describe your wip" one. (Particularly considering that I might end up scrapping a lot of what I've got written already.) It's a Bloodborne fic, where - look, y'know what I did with Cynthia for Echoes, shoving her into the role of the protagonist of Pokemon Platinum? I'm planning to do the same damn thing for a third time with Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower. It will be a fucking delight and also incredibly stressful for her <3

(That one, when I eventually am able to write it - read, when I've actually finished playing Bloodborne and can knit my various thoughts and plans together into a coherent narrative - is going to be called "the beat of a long dead heart." I'm undecided on capitalization or not. Some fandoms it really fits the vibe to capitalize titles, some fandoms it really doesn't, and Bloodborne could go either way really.)

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Hmmmmmm. I mean, bold of the question to assume I only have one WIP first of all. Probably the biggest thing I'm struggling with re: TBOYL is getting my momentum going for it again. But I'm really quite close to the ending, and while I could theoretically just skip there, I don't want to. There's a few more legendaries and mythicals to cover and in the spirit of Cynthia we're covering all of them.

(In more mundane concerns, I keep marking a chapter as "this is the one where Darkrai will show up for real this time" and it ends up Not Being That lol. This keeps happening with TBOYL. It will happen again.)

Hope you are too, tyvm for the ask :)

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Tomorrow I’m gonna do the rest of my laundry and get my winter things out of storage. Then I can start putting all the laundry away and start packing to go see my aunt this weekend. I’m going to miss home and my boyfriend and my dogs sosososooso much but my aunt has been trying to get me to visit since I was a kid and it has never worked out so I’m excited to go and to finally have been to see her. But she doesn’t have pets and that makes me profoundly sad. Trying not to think about that part. Its only two days/three nights. So grateful I can fly with weed now. Has to be a vape pen which sucks, I really prefer flower, but infinitely better than nothing. Idk how well I’d handle a weekend of no weed and no animals.

Anyway when I come back all my laundry will be done and I can start working on the junk room that used to be my study/craft room/whatever but gradually became uninhabitable. A sacrifice to keep the rest of the house clean. But really I just need to get rid of a lot of things. Can’t wait to do that. My boyfriend has the weekend off and the whole week following as well. Very exciting. I don’t want to say “we’re gonna get so much done” and create unrealistic expectations that are just gonna stress me out. But I want to get so much done. Instead I guess I’ll just say that I think traveling a bit and having a whole week with my partner will give me some momentum. I just need to remember to focus on getting rid of things. I just really really need to remember that so I don’t get too overwhelmed or distracted. Just discard or donate as much as possible. I have so much crap, and so many clothes I don’t even like.

Then I can assess what kind of furniture/storage I need and find a place for everything and turn my house into an actual home after four years of living here, instead of just a teenager-first-apartment kind of deal with minimal furniture and no real designated place for anything.

Thennnn we can start more serious upgrades, but also in the meantime, I can have my nieces and nephews over and my best friend and my partner’s best friend and my dad and my brother and my mom when she’s in town. All very exciting. Because I want to see them but I don’t want to leave my home. Anyway, good things to come. In spite of all the darkness.

Step one to all this I guess is forgiving myself for the fact that it is again suddenly 2:15 am, about two hours later than it seemed. And I have absolutely no idea what I’ve been doing that whole time. Other than just… scrolling��� maybe browsing playlists on Spotify… nothing that amounts to anything at all. And I say that knowing that genuine rest and relaxation are in fact very valuable. This has not been those things, its just been a cocktail of dissociation, time-blindness, and dissociative amnesia. But its fine. Now I’m going to stand up and make sleepytime tea and have some cannabis indica and watch my comfort show. And then read a bit and then go to bed and it’s gonna be so cozy.

[the-baddest-of-batches]

Star Wars: Dar'Aliit - Chapter One: Beginning of the End (Part 2)

“Kian!” Morgan hops down off the top bunk and lands square on his feet. I can hear the overexcitement in his voice already and it makes me want to go back to sleep. My head is heavy and fuzzy from all the sleepless nights anyway.

Morgan does not give me a chance to succumb back to slumber, though. “Kian, get up!” He’s hauling his gear out. They all are. I’m still the only one in bed. Someone climbs up and taps my shoulders harder than they should. Five credits I’ll bet it was Nyo.

“Up,” Nyo’s deep voice whispers to me. “We’re expected on deck in thirty.”

I shove him off and the momentum is what gets me up and onto my shebs as I blink my eyes.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t excited for our first mission,” Morgan chides. He’s tugging his sniper rifle over his shoulder. He’s already in armor.

Thirty minutes. I remind myself of the deadline and somehow my boots are on the ground before I think. Morgan is right. Today’s our first mission. I should feel excited but I’ve been sleeping with a sick feeling in my gut for days.

I know it’s probably nerves. Everyone gets nervous, right? Even trained and hardened soldiers like us. Well—I scan the room full of the faces of my brothers, each a carbon copy of the last, except our hair of course, and each beaming in excitement—we aren’t hardened soldiers yet. Just fresh faces.

Everyone is buzzing with adrenaline, though, so I smile and shrug off the icky knot in my stomach. I haul out my armor and dress, and with each plate it gets a little easier. Morgan’s entirely right and that makes me feel a bit lighter. Me, Morgan, Nyo, Nenti, Hook and Haze, we’re not going to be trainees anymore. These sleeping cells will become starship bunks and by this time tomorrow we’ll make landfall on strange new planet.

Then we’ll do what we always said we’d do.

Morgan probably notices my smile. He slings his arm over my shoulders as I join the group, each of us in shining white armor, weapons ready, faces beaming.

“You going to sleep through every mission?” Hook asks. “Or just the important ones.”

“We don’t even have a mission yet,” Nenti slams his fist into Hook’s shoulder. “Di’kut.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “I won’t sleep through every mission,” I say. “Just the first one.”

“Hah!” Nenti busts out laughing. Nyo chuckles.

Haze levels his bright eyes on me and with a smirk says, “And I’ll bet if you did, you’d be the only survivor, Kian.”

#

Umbara. That name burns into my mind as we drag our sore battered bodies the rest of the way across the shadowy world. I’m struggling to breathe. Haze clings to Morgan, limping. Hook is okay. Nenti hadn’t been seen since we got shot down.

Nyo keeps beside me, quiet, like usual. I want to ask him what he is thinking, but I can’t get my voice to work. I fear if I open my mouth I’ll scream, or cry, or worse—I’ll be silent.

The past few hours have been nothing but hell. That is the only word appropriate left in my mind to describe them. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Land in the drop zone, take up our spots in the cover line and keep cover up until the Jedi arrived.

Nothing went right. First rule of training. Nothing ever goes according to plan. But this was worse.

I still couldn’t get the image of that face, my face, out of my head. The lifeless eyes. No helmet. Just a head.

I want to vomit. I’m going to vomit.

Nyo’s hand lands on my shoulder and I look over at him quiet.

“How far?” Haze asks weakly from behind us.

“Not far.” Nyo sounds like a real sergeant. A leader. But we’re all just rookies, nothing special, no leaders.

Still, he sounds like a leader. I wish I understood how he did it.

“C’mon,” Nyo’s talking to me now, his voice quiet. I can feel him guiding me with the touch of his hand. I’m walking in front soon enough and I can see the other clones in front of us. We’re all the same, bruised, beaten, and making our way through an unknown world. The blaster fire is behind us. I remember however the faces that weren’t clones: Jedi.

Nothing else can save us now.

A voice calls from the front and we’re told it’s not far. They’ve been saying that for hours. Maybe it isn’t far, but it feels forever in my head. I want to collapse. I want to lay down on the ground and close my eyes. I don’t want to wake up and face this tomorrow. This isn’t a training room. It isn’t a simulation. It’s real and it’s right here in front of me.

But with each thought of going back Nyo’s hand is heavier on my shoulder. It isn’t just me. We’re all here. We’re all the same.

So I keep walking, and breathing, and believing. It’s not far. We’re almost there.

#

The capitol city sits quiet. Everything remains dead quiet. Our training commander once said you shouldn’t trust silence.

But the captain told us to keep moving. Our platoon leader looks like he disagrees. I think Nyo does too. He’s still and alert. We all have blasters in our hands. We’re taking the capitol.

And we all know tis is a bad idea.

But we’re soldiers. Good soldiers. And we follow orders. Good soldiers win wars, and we’re going to win this battle, and the next battle, and eventually the war. That’s why we exist. Trust the plan, trust each other, and you’ll make it home.

I lift my blaster. I’m ready to be a good soldier.

Then the air explodes hot and loud and in a flash of green there’s a scream. I stop dead in my tracks.

“Mines!” Everyone is yelling.

I snap my blaster up, eyes scanning the shadows, but that’s all I can see. That and the body several feet away. Another mine. More screaming. Another body. I can’t look. I won’t look and instead I glance at Nyo.

“What do we do?” I know I sound panicked.

“No one move!” The captain orders.

I hold my breath and grip my blaster with shaking fingers, as if that’s enough to keep hell at bay. Every glance is a scan of our surroundings. The training commander was right. You should never trust silence.

But in just a few seconds, we’re back on the move. Cautiously, following an ARC trooper sweeping for mines ahead of us. I pick my way around every glowing spot, wondering if maybe it was possible to miss one, and if I’ll step on it next. The careful pace doesn’t last.

I don’t know if the sick feeling hit me first, or the smell of laser burnt flesh as a green flash took out the soldier in the platoon ahead of me. But I know the panic hit me last, sinking in as I jerked up my blaster and realized with a sinking stomach that the enemy fire was all around us, and there was nowhere to run from it.

“We’re caught!”

“We have no cover!”

“We’re completely exposed!”

Pandemonium. I fire back at anything that moves in the shadows, but the Umbarans are also just that, shadows. I cannot see what I’m shooting at! But I can hear the screaming, and the yelling, and the panic as men fall around me. Men who are just like me.

Our platoon leader yells for us to keep firing. I don’t know what else to do so I yell back, “Yes sir!” and let ‘em have it. I want the Umbaran’s to fall, I want them to feel the bite of my own blaster just like they’re biting down on us. I want to see their capitol burn.

It’s the sky that’s burning, though, and my nose. A sing of plasma on metal followed by the acrid smell of something unholy coming our way.

“Get out!” Our platoon leader shouts.

I see the white ball of plasma and I lunge to the right, forgetting the Umbaran’s and charging after Nyo as we run for cover that doesn’t exist.

I look back and my stomach hits the back of my throat. Haze isn’t fast enough.

“Haze!” I scream. I’m turning to grab him.

Nyo grabs me.

And with a scream the plasma lands, tearing through the ground, through Haze, and reducing him to atoms.

Haze is gone. Gone.

Nyo drags me back. “Keep firing, Kian!”

I can’t let go of my blaster, but my legs are weak. I’m going to vomit, but the adrenaline coursing in my veins won’t let me. We’re like womp rats in a barrel. I can see the other platoons running. It’s a hail of plasma and death. A trap.

“Fall back!” The captain is running past us, waving for us to follow. The platoon leader echoes the order and Nyo tugs me back.

I obey. We run and retreat. I leap after Nyo behind the carcass of an machine and we both set up cover fire. It’s the only thing I can focus on. Fire till the clip is empty, and reload.

With every bullet Haze’s scream echoes in my head. I can still see his face. I remember what he was like this morning. I remember his bad jokes on the LAAT/i.

But I can’t let myself remember right now. I pinpoint the enemy running after us. They’re out in the open now. They’re the womp rats. The targets I’ve trained all ten years of my life to hit.

And I hit them perfectly. One after another, falling to the ground. Empty a clip. Reload. It’s rhythmic.

“They’re caught!” someone whoops. “We can do this!”

“Take ‘em down!” Nyo almost sounds happy as he shouts beside me. “Let ‘em eat laser!”

I grimace and my gritted teeth become a grin. Yeah. Die like fodder.

The Umbaran’s are finally thinning out. I reload and slam the next cartridge into my blaster before mowing down another and I almost feel better, as if the fight is a catharsis. I feel like Haze would be proud of me. Of all of us. Nyo on my right, Morgan on my left, even Hook back with the wounded.

There’s reinforcements pouring down. I lose myself in picking off the last of the enemy and then without warning the world is quiet again. I can breathe again.

Morgan looks up and our platoon leader motions that it’s safe. We stand and survey the battlefield.

Morgan slaps my shoulder. “We did it,” he says, grim.

I nod.

“Regroup!” The orders trickle from above. I clamber over the debris and file in with the others as we rejoin our platoon. I feel like my head is still spinning but there’s an ecstasy mixed in. We survived.

Our first mission, and we haven’t even finished, but we’re alive. Most of us.

“I heard the General and the Captain are arguing again,” someone whispers.

Morgan looks over. “Are they ever gonna make up their minds?” he huffs. “We did great!”

“A full-frontal assault is still dangerous,” Nyo mutters. “You should be quiet, Morgan.”

Morgan huffs. Our platoon leader levels all of us with a helmeted glare and I’ve seen that look before.

Stay alert.

I keep my blaster in my hands.

“So, what is our next move?” Morgan asks. He pulls his helmet off to breathe. Nyo always hated when we did that. It got us killed in more than one training simulation.

“We still have to take the capitol,” I offer. “But maybe we can now?”

“I think the General is an idiot,” Nyo put’s in his two cents.

“You can say that twice,” Morgan says. “But hey, a little show of force isn’t so bad, right?” He lifts his blaster and pumps it in the air with a rallying cry. My eyes trail the blaster.

And I realize a little too late the world isn’t quiet anymore. The sky is filled with blaster fire. It’s coming from above. And we’re caught in it.

A green laser bolt cuts through Morgan’s face. And the last thing I see before it melts the skin is his determined smirk. Determined that we would win.

[academiaipromise]

wait. is it me. actually being on track with my thesis timeline. could not be me (but it IS)

[harveywritings92]

BNHA SOULMATE AU: Hawks X Reader

Your Quirk is the same as Ruby Rose's semblance from RWBY but it's called Petal Storm here.

Soulmate: First words your Soulmate says is written on your body, yours was written on your inner left thigh, Hawks is on his chest over his heart. 

Your mark: [You're okay kid, I got'cha!]

Keigo's: [No! I got you!]

----------------------------

["You're okay kid, I got'cha!"] You cock a brow at the gold and black letters resting on you inner thigh as you pulled your pants up that morning, When you were younger, you were mortified when the words first showed up mainly because if your soulmate asks to see it, well... it would look very lewd and creepy of them as they were pretty much sticking their face between your legs.

it was awkward as hell growing up, because of your reluctance of telling people where you mark was you were often accused of and or shunned by your peers for not having a soulmate! of course that all ended in middle school when you were in the changing rooms and swim practice where other's could see your thighs, needless to say those rumors died out pretty quickly.

And now here you are taking a elevator to a job interview with a very high-end gym, they were looking for swim coaches and lifeguards... anyways the gym was located on the roof, and there you were playing elder scroll's blades as you waited for your floor to come up when you felt a tremor shake the whole building, followed by the lights flickering and the elevator stopping... that definitely didn't sound good! 

The building's alarm started going off followed by the announcements warning the building's patrons that a villain was attacking and to please follow the evacuation procedures and not to panic! "Okay, that's nice... Now how the fuck do I get out the elevator?!" you snapped up at the ceiling, when you felt the building begin to shake again, and realized you heard the elevator begin to creak and jolt you knew that the car wouldn't hold for long!

You looked around and saw the tiny fire extinguisher on the wall, you took it and began slamming it against the glass wall it took a few good swings, but you managed to break open a decently sized hole to escape out of, you looked outside and took a deep breath letting out a nervous whistle when you saw how high you were. "Okay...Y/n if ya do this right, you can probably make it to that building across the road no problem." you assured before taking a deep breath and jumped! just as the elevator gave way and fell!

Meanwhile on the ground.

Hawks and few other heroes were huddled with fire department and the buildings owner who whining up a storm about law suites and other threat empty threats if the heroes don't save his business! when Hawks felt his mark begin to itch... his brow furrowed and he absentmindedly rubbed the spot, when he heard the sound of glass hitting the ground. 

He looked behind him just in time see a fire extinguisher hit the ground which went off causing everyone to freak out, while Hawks looked up to see where it came from just in time to see a lady jump out of one of the elevators shafts! the winged hero gasped to off to the skies like a rocket!

*back to you*

You were plummeting to ground just waiting for the vantage point to to use you quirk! a little too high you might overshoot the landing, too low and you might faceplant into a light post! However before you could reach that point you felt a pair of arms snatch you by the waist, your stomach lurched from the sudden loss of momentum and you squeaked closing your eyes before a man's voice spoke to you. "You're okay kid, I got'cha!" you gasped feeling your mark begin to itch and looked up to see a blond man with gold eyes and red wings giving you a reassuring smile it took your brain a second to reboot.

*Holy crap! my soulmate is Hawks?* at least you think he is, but before you could ask him to repeat that, you saw some of the building began to break apart! some of it coming right towards you! "No! I got you!" He looked at you stunned, "What did you jus-" you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and activated your quirk, in seconds you and your soulmate bodies transmuted and scattered into a flurry of gold and red rose petals dodged the falling building zoomed across the sky and landing on one of the roofs across the road.

Hawks let go of you the second you were back to normal...He slapped a hand of his mouth and started dry heaving obviously feeling nauseous, Yeah... that happens to first timers who've had their molecules reshaped and scattered, before you could reach out to ask if he was okay, you were suddenly pulled into tight hug. "Holy crap...Holy crap!" he kept repeating this before his brain jump started. "I thought I'd never get to meet you!" his wings had wrapped around you as he held on to you tightly squeezing the wind out of you.

"Yeah... ditto! Can I breathe now?" you wheezed Hawks immediately apologized and set you down while smiling sheepishly, then you noticed he seemed to looking for something as he was pulling you sleeves up looking for something. "What are doing?" you asked as he (if you have long hair) lifted your hair up to check you neck. "Looking for your mark, Mine's on my chest." He said putting you hand over his heart causing your cheeks to heat up feeling how fast it was beating.

*Lucky bird...* you mentally hummed. "Urm... I can't exactly show you my mark, uh...it's in a very awkward place." you said avoiding his eyes, while Hawks stared at you blankly for moment before his cheeks went pink. "oh...uh" he looked around to make sure it was just the two of you up here, as he leans in close to you and whispers. "Right or left cheek?" your eyes widened as you jerk back. "IT'S NOT ON MY BUTT!" You shrieked mortified face aflame before stammering out. "S'on my left thigh...bikini zone." you played with helm of your shirt.

Hawk awkwardly chuckled before remembering he was in the middle of a villain fight, it was gonna take a while to clean up he gave you his address a basically told you meet him at his penthouse; just before he was about to take off he turned you and shouted "By the way my names Keigo, Takami  Keigo!" he was gone before you could tell him yours but didn't worry you'll have the time in the world to get to know Keigo, as you hopped of the roof using your quirk to glide down to street, a little excited and embarrassed of what was to come. 

The next couple days the tabloids and media were going nuts over Hawks finally finding his soulmate! there was photo of the two of you at the beach soulmarks visible, everyone seemed happy for the #2 hero, with the exception of a few fan-girls; who sent you death threats, deep fakes and badly photoshopped pictures of them and Keigo together, they even tried to slam you on social media; only to make themselves look like idiots!

Meanwhile Hawks got to enjoy the one of the few things the commission let him keep! he still had that old Endeavor plushy sitting on his desk in his office and now he had a whole lifetime to spend with you... and you bet your ass he wasn't ever gonna take that for granted.

[miekasa]

homecoming (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: college au, how many ways can i fit levi’s captain status into the modern world, fluff

↯ notes: i love levi :// and i’m out of gifs to put at the top of these, so when i learn how to make headers i’ll let you guys know. also this isn’t proofread rip in peace 

↯ summary: there’s a pretty well known homecoming tradition, and levi’s hoping you’re willing to partake in it. 

“So,” you hum, wiping away any crumbs from your mouth, “Are you going to tell me exactly why you wanted to have a picnic at 2:30 in the afternoon on a random Thursday, or am I supposed to wait for a grand reveal?”

Levi rolls his eyes, and sips on his wine, ignoring your incoming giggles. “Can’t I want to take you on a date?” he clicks his tongue, setting his, now empty, plastic wine cup onto the picnic blanket, “Ungrateful brat.”

You smack him on the arm, mouth open in offense; but Levi’s chuckling, shoulder’s shaking at your reaction. “I am a very grateful brat,” you correct him, “But I am also very suspicious one.”

Levi hums, not bothering to reply. Instead, he separates the two halves of his sandwich, wraps one half around a napkin, and hands it to you. You accept it, albeit a little hesitantly, and watch as Levi pays you no mind, biting into his half neatly.

If it were any normal situation, you’d probably try to snap a picture of him—you have somewhat of an ongoing collection of sneaky pictures of Levi on your dates, particularly when he looks cute munching on his food, much to his disdain—but this was not a normal situation.

Levi is acting strange. It’s not just the nature of this date itself—it may be out of character for Levi to want to go on a picnic of all things, but could be quite the romantic at heart, and often planned very quaint dates for the both of you. It was everything that happened since you set up your picnic that was truly out of the ordinary.

Like the way he seemed distracted, getting lost in thought in a way you hadn’t seen before; and how he kept sweeping his hair out of his eyes, and readjusting his small silver earring. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s nervous about something.

“Seriously,” you say lightly, carefully setting your half-eaten portion of the sandwich back onto the blanket, “What’s this all about?”

Levi looks at you for a beat, once again using his free hand to brush his dark hair behind his ear, then with suspecting eyes, “You don’t like it?”

Your eyebrows draw together at his questioning, confused by the lack of sarcasm, or even hurt in his tone; like he was genuinely surprised.

“What? No, Levi, that’s not what I meant,” you assure him, “I just mean that this isn’t really us. You hate eating outside—you always make us wait for indoor seating—and, if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen a couple go on a picnic in real life.”

Levi reaches to pour more cheap wine into your faux glasses, “I guess romance really is dead.”

You squint your eyes, carefully tracking his movements as he hands you a plastic cup before refilling his own. Levi isn’t one to dodge questions, or any kind of confrontation. Now you know for sure that something’s up.

“Levi,” you call gently, feeling like you finally have his full focus when his eyes meet yours, “What’s going on?”

His gaze softens at your question this time, and you finally see a hint of the Levi you know behind his expression. He sighs, carefully closing the boxed wine, and taking his cup into his hand. With a slight head nod, he motions for you to come closer, and you obiiently shuffle closer to him, until you’re sitting side by side.

You take the liberty of resting your head on his shoulder, cheek soft against his coat. You can hear him take a deep breath, feel his exhale deflate his shoulders, before he speaks.

“Homecoming is next weekend,” he starts, “You’re going, yeah?”

You hum in affirmation, watching as he takes a careful sip from his cup before continuing.

“There’s this tradition. It’s stupid as shit, if you ask me, so you don’t have to say yes,” he mumbles, lips barely off of the plastic, before he takes another sip. “But, if you’re dating someone, they’re supposed to show up to the game in your jersey.”

You snap your head up from his shoulder, blinking at Levi and the implications of his words, as you begin to piece together the mystery of his actions from this afternoon. Levi—your Levi—took you on a picnic, complete with homemade sandwiches and cheap wine, to ask you to be his date to his homecoming game.

Your stunned silence is filled with light breeze that brushes past your hair, and makes Levi return to brushing his away again. He drinks in your expression, grey eyes growing cloudy as he assumes the worst of your silence.

“Like I said, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he explains cooly, bringing his cup to his mouth again for a bitter sip, “I didn’t know if you were going to stick around for the whole day anyways, you’ve probably got other shit to—”

You kiss him quiet. Levi is surprised at first, jolts a little bit when your actions cause him to spill some of his drink, but he kisses you back, a small wave of relief washing over him. At least he didn’t make a complete fool of himself just now.

“Of course I’ll wear your jersey, Levi.”

Most parents and alumni stuck around for the traditional football game, but the boys’ soccer team was always popular amongst students, and for good reason.

Not only did the university’s team have an exceptional record, but they had no shortage of eye-candy playing for them, either. Even the team’s managers were pretty cute. You were certain players like Armin Arlert and Eren Jaeger were not plastered all over the university website solely for their soccer skills.

Though, good looks aside, they were undeniably good, and made a damn impressive pair on the field. However, most of the crowd would agree that Jaeger, Arlert, and the entire team, could thank their captain for their win today.

You step onto the field with a wide grin as you watch Levi’s team wrangle him into the middle of their circle and toss him up in the air unceremoniously. You almost want to capture the moment for yourself, but to your left, Hange is already recording a video you’re certain Levi would threaten to have deleted.

Most of the mob had fizzled away after the exciting win, leaving behind the team themselves, and a couple of students—likely friends or family of the athletes. After their final huddle, the boys begin to dissipate, greet the remaining crowd. Hange leaves you to badger Erwin, who had been sitting out due to an injury.

You spot Levi carefully picking up his duffel bag, and take the opportunity to run up to him, encase in a sudden and warm hug. You wrap your arms around his neck, and Levi has but a moment’s notice to secure his hands around your back and steady your bodies, lest you both fall to the ground from your uncoordinated momentum.

“You played so well!” you exclaim, pulling back from your hug, but keeping your palms on his shoulders, bouncing excitedly, “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good! You’ve never played like that before!”

Levi admits to tuning out your praise in favor of drinking in your appearance. The green of his away jersey looks good against your skin, the fabric somewhat loose on your frame. His eyes trail down to the sleeve, a minuscule smirk growing on his lips as he reads his last name in all capital letters underneath his number.

“Come on, Hange and I are taking you guys out for lunch!” your words snap him back to reality, “Anything you want, it’s on me, Captain.”

Levi rolls his tongue against his inner cheek. That’s a promise he’d have to take you up on later. For now, he plays along with your childlike enthusiasm, agreeing to your plans.

He motions for the two of you to get going, but his stride is blocked when you refuse to move from in front of him. Instead, you let your hands crawl from his shoulder to his neck, fingers tickling the hairs at his nape, before you pull him forward into a gentle kiss.

“You really were great, Levi,” you tell him again, pressing another kiss to his lips sweetly.

Levi hums, indulging you one more time, before he hears gasps and not-so-subtle exclamations of “Captain has a girlfriend?!” coming from his annoying teammates. He scoffs when he pulls back to see Jaeger looking at him with his mouth open so wide he could catch flies.

“You’re kind of ruining my reputation,” Levi tells you, but there’s no real bark to his tone.

It’s your turn to scoff, slowly trailing your hands down his arms, and eventually back to your side. You turn and the both of you begin to walk, not before you note, “You ruined your own reputation when you invited me and Hange here.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Hey!” you whine, frown deepening as Levi chuckles at you, “You’re not supposed to agree, asshole.” 

Levi doesn’t stop laughing, but gently wraps his arms around your shoulder as the both of you follow behind Hange and Erwin, and back to your car. 

“Don’t think your unusual displays of affection are going to make me forgive you,” you pout, but reach your hand to wrap your fingers around his anyways; Levi doesn’t even bother to hide his smirk, “I don’t care if you scored the winning goal or not, just for that, I’m only buying you one appetizer.”

Levi hums noncommittally. That’s fine, he could think of at least three other things he would rather you do for him instead when you both got home. With and without that jersey on.

[jlalafics]

"Photograph"-a Royal!Everlark story

This was inspired by this prompt from @writing-prompt-s:

When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse” again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country… where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid.

This is totally unedited. Thank you to @sparklingdust4612 for bringing this prompt to my attention. Looking forward to everyone else's interpretations along with this one and the story by @jhsgf82!

I actually have more of this but I thought I'd show y'all a little bit of my interpretation of the above prompt.

****

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen, still…

-Ed Sheeran

Photograph

Katniss Everdeen loved building castles.

In the massive sandbox, she packed another bunch of sand into her bucket before placing it upside down to set. While waiting, Katniss imagined how she would decorate the inside of her palace, a delighted smile growing on her face as she thought of the possibilities.

First, the walls would all be yellow. Not the ugly yellow that looked like snot—but yellow like Prim’s, her baby sister, golden locks.

Yellow meant hope: that’s what Daddy always said.

Knocking on the sides of the bucket to loosen the sand like Mommy showed her, Katniss slowly lifted it revealing a perfect tower for her castle.

“Yes!” she hollered, jumping up in excitement.

Her eyes went to Mommy who was sitting on the bench across the way. She was talking to a pretty, yellow-haired woman with a big tummy. Prim was asleep in her stroller, her binky hanging from her mouth.

“Mommy!” Katniss rushed over, stopping just a scant from toppling over on the concrete. “Look! I’ve made the perfect tower!”

Her mother smiled proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Katniss.” She turned to the woman next to her. “My Katniss is always building and dreaming on how to make her perfect home. Her teachers tell me that she has such a creative mind for a seven-year-old.”

“How absolutely charming,” the woman responded kindly, a smile on her pink lips.

Katniss tilted her head at the sound of her voice. There was something different about the way the lady talked—the dips of it sounded strange—but still nice.

“Why do you sound like that?” she asked bluntly.

Her Mommy frowned. “Katniss Everdeen! Please apologize!” She looked to the woman once more. “I’m so sorry—”

“That’s perfectly alright,” the lady assured her. The pretty woman turned to Katniss. “I have a little bit of an accent because of where I’m from, that’s why my voice sounds different.”

Katniss nodded. “Okay, but it does sound nice…like a song!” She smiled. “What’s your name?”

The woman glowed like an angel. “My name is Marguerite.”

“Hello Miss Marguerite.” Katniss looked to where her sandcastle waited. “I better go before someone takes my stuff! Bye!”

Throwing a wave at the woman, she plopped back down onto her space in the sandbox ready to add some detailing to her newest tower—

The foot crushing her tower landed straight in the middle of it creating a space between each side.

Katniss fumed and her eyes went up to the blond-haired boy with the snooty face.

She stood, her hand slamming into his chest. “Hey! You destroyed my castle!”

The boy stared at her in shock. “No one ever touches me!”

“Until now—”

Katniss was suddenly blocked by another boy, tall and dark-skinned.

“No one touches his royal highness,” he declared, and the blond boy stuck his tongue at her.

Another boy, this one dark-haired and sharp-eyed, approached.

“Prince Peeta has decided that you will be his bride,” he stated with a scowl.

Katniss made a face, crossing her arms to show them how disgusting that sounded. “Gross.”

The so-called Prince Peeta walked over to her.

“As my bride, you can make as many sandcastles as you want,” he explained. “I’ll build a bigger sandbox than this for you!”

Something inside zinged at the thought. “Really?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Katniss eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?”

Peeta shifted in his stance, the confidence in his blue eyes suddenly wavering. “I like your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

A rise of pink colored his cheeks. “They’re soft…and pretty.”

That had been it for her.

On that warm afternoon, by the swings of District 12’s only playground, Katniss Everdeen married the so-called Prince Peeta.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Gale, the dark-haired boy, said. He looked at Peeta, a teasing smile on his face. “Go on—kiss her!”

“Close your eyes,” Peeta told her.

Katniss, wearing her paper towel veil courtesy of the park’s public bathroom, did what he said and closed her eyes.

SPLAT!

She barely registered being shoved down into the muddy puddle.

Katniss looked up at the sneering boy, feeling the rise of anger in her body.

“That’s what you get for pushing me.”

++++++

Twenty years later…

“Katniss.” She looked up from laptop to find Prim at her open doorway. Her sister held out a Fed-Ex envelope. “This just came for you.”

Without even glancing at it, Katniss tossed the envelope on her bed, going back to the open page on her screen.

“Don’t you want to open it?” Prim stepped into the room and plopped onto the bed, picking the post up to examine it. “It looks important.”

“Probably one of those things saying that I’m eligible for another credit card.” Katniss frowned, sitting back, and staring at the blinking cursor. “I’m so stuck on this blog post!”

“Is this the one about kitchen flowers?” her sister asked, and she nodded. “You got some great pictures from Madge’s shop.”

“I know but my writing inspiration is zilch,” Katniss explained. “I need to get this done if I want to post by Mother’s Day.”

“Speaking of Mother’s Day, mom is wondering if you’re bringing anyone to Sunday dinner,” Prim informed her.

“I love our mother but lately every conversation we’ve had is either about my lack of a dating life or my withering eggs,” Katniss said. “Right now, I need to focus on getting more attention on the blog. It’s just gaining momentum!” She rested back and turned to her sister. “This is important to me.”

“I know,” Prim replied. “And you are good at it. I mean, look at what you’ve done to our apartment! To this room!”

Her sister’s bright blue eyes looked around the buttercream room, beautifully decorated with white-washed furniture. The console that her television sat atop was bought at a nearby thrift shop and refurbished by her. Katniss had sanded it down before putting a whitewash over it and adding lacquer to give it a more modern look.

In fact, most of the furniture in her and Prim’s apartment was completely refurbished by her. She had always had an eye for decorating and instead of going to a four-year college, Katniss had opted to go to design school.

Creating something new from what people considered junk gave her a special kind of thrill—almost akin to being in love.

At least that’s what she thought it might feel like.

“Whoa!”

Katniss whipped over to her sister—who was holding an unfolded paper in her hands.

She stood from her seat and went to Prim. “What?”

Wordlessly, Prim handed the piece to her—it was a letter.

The letter was on marbled paper, an elegant insignia atop it, and she could see that the elegant calligraphy was done by hand:

Dear Miss Everdeen,

You are hereby summoned to the kingdom of Panem to present yourself to His Royal Highness, King Peeta.

Photo documentation has validified that you are the Queen Consort to His Royal Highness.

Attached is my business card, please contact me to arrange your travel to Panem.

Respectfully,

The Rt. Hon. Effie Trinket

Private Secretary to His Royal Highness

“This is a joke!” Katniss tossed the letter onto her desk and laughed. “Photo documentation? There is no such thing—”

The laugh fell from her lips as Prim turned the FedEx envelope upside down and a single photo fell onto her bedspread.

“There’s a business card in here, too,” Prim told her carefully.

Walking over, Katniss could see that the photo was facedown.

Trembling, she picked the print up and read the elegant cursive atop it:

‘Peeta and his new bride, Katniss Everdeen!’

Next to the caption was a happy face; it was obvious that this statement was made in jest.

Turning the photograph, a wave of nausea hit seeing the image of her seven-year-old self, a paper towel veil atop her head, joining hands with a blond boy—

Prince Peeta.

Or to be more precise, His Royal Highness King Peeta of Panem.