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debussy42 · 3 days ago

Text

"straight or curly?"

Guys, I'm not gonna lie. This whole nonsense started with me just debating whether or not I should straighten or curl my hair today. Wow, I miss my man Levi. Maybe it's with Valentine's day coming up, but I needed some emotionally charged, dancing, jealousy, barely restrained Levi in my life. Hope y'all enjoy ◡̈

wc: 8k WHEWWWWWWW

"Sasha. Mikasa. Should I straighten my hair today, or curl it? It's the weekend, and I want to try something new."

Mikasa, already dressed and pulling on her boots, barely glances up before saying, “Straight.”

Sasha, who’s still lounging on her bed with no urgency whatsoever, tilts her head in thought. “Curl it. It looks cuter that way.”

You hum, turning back to the mirror, lightly running your fingers through your hair. “Hmm. Mikasa, why straight?”

She shrugs. “It’s easier.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s the weekend. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, do something fun with it?”

You smirk at their contrast and tap your fingers against the wooden vanity. “Jean’s going to say straight. Connie’s going to say whatever makes me look stupid.”

Mikasa ties her scarf, uninterested. “Jean will say whatever makes you look ‘mature.’”

Sasha snorts. “He’s been watching too many noblewomen walk through town.”

You shake your head, grinning at their banter, then turn back to the mirror. “Alright, decision made.”

Mikasa raises a brow. “Which one?”

You give a dramatic pause before flashing them a mischievous grin. “I’ll ask Levi.”

Sasha chokes on air. “Wha—are you insane?”

Mikasa actually looks up at that, blinking. “You’re going to ask the Captain?”

You shrug innocently, gathering your comb. “He’s got an eye for detail. Might as well make use of it.”

Sasha buries her face into her pillow, groaning. “Oh my god, you love testing death, don’t you?”

Mikasa, while less dramatic, still watches you carefully. “You’re comfortable with him, sure. But that’s still Levi. You really think he’s going to care about how you do your hair?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. But I do know that if I look ridiculous, he won’t hesitate to tell me.”

Sasha peeks out from her pillow, stifling laughter. “That’s... actually true.”

Mikasa just shakes her head. “I’m not stopping you. But don’t be surprised if he tells you you’re wasting his time.”

You flash them both a grin before heading for the door. “I’ll be back with verdict.”

—

The morning sun is just beginning to filter through the halls as you make your way toward the common area, boots clicking softly against the wooden floors. Most of the squad is still waking up, scattered across various spaces, engaged in quiet conversations or lazy weekend tasks.

And then, you spot Levi.

He’s near the windows, arms crossed, watching the drizzle outside with his usual unreadable expression. The early light casts a soft glow against his features, the sharp angles of his face somehow looking even sharper in the muted tones of the morning.

You take a breath, then casually stride up next to him, standing just close enough that he acknowledges your presence with a glance but doesn’t immediately turn away.

“Captain,” you say, tilting your head.

Levi’s gaze flickers to you, his brows drawing together slightly. “What?”

You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, smirking. “Should I straighten or curl my hair today?”

There’s a pause. A heavy, weighted pause.

Levi blinks once. Then twice. His expression is as blank as ever, but there’s a split second where you think—just maybe—you’ve stunned him into silence.

“…You woke up just to ask me that?”

You cross your arms, feigning seriousness. “This is an important decision, Captain. I need guidance. You have high standards, so I figured you’d have an opinion.”

Levi exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked me.”

You bite back a grin. “That’s not an answer, though.”

He finally looks at you fully, scanning you with the same critical gaze he uses when inspecting gear, paperwork, or a particularly irritating recruit.

“Straight,” he says flatly. “Less maintenance.”

You huff. “That’s what Mikasa said.”

Levi shrugs. “Then she’s right.”

You tap your chin, pretending to contemplate. “Sasha said curls.”

“Tch. Of course she did.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “You really don’t like being pulled into nonsense, do you?”

Levi scoffs lightly, already turning back to the window. “And yet, somehow, you keep pulling me in.”

You grin. “It’s a talent.”

Levi exhales again, shaking his head. “Straighten it. But if you’re going to keep bothering me about it, just shave it all off and save everyone the trouble.”

You do laugh at that, shaking your head as you step back. “Alright, alright. Decision made. Thanks, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t reply, but as you turn to leave, you swear you catch something—the barest flicker of amusement in his gaze.

And somehow, that feels like more of a victory than anything else.

You straighten your posture before giving a firm nod, shifting away from the relaxed banter you nearly let slip. “Thank you, Captain.” Your voice is lighter now, but the respect is there—solid, unwavering, the way it should be when addressing him.

Levi doesn’t reply, but the flicker of acknowledgment in his expression tells you that he noticed the shift. He doesn’t need praise, doesn’t care for pleasantries, but he does expect discipline.

And you do respect him—his authority, his position, the sheer presence he carries that makes the rest of the squad tread carefully around him. That weight isn’t something you take lightly.

With your decision made, you turn on your heel and make your way back toward the barracks, catching the eyes of a few cadets as you pass. Some of them look at you like you’ve just done something insane, while others avoid making eye contact entirely, as if speaking to Levi so casually might have put you on a death sentence.

When you step back into the barracks, Sasha and Mikasa are still exactly where you left them, Sasha now halfway through a snack she definitely didn’t have before.

Mikasa eyes you first. “Straight?”

You smirk. “Straight.”

Sasha lets out a dramatic sigh. “Of course he’d say that.”

You shrug as you make your way to the small mirror on the vanity, pulling out your comb. “Well, you did say he has high standards. Might as well follow through.”

Mikasa finishes tying the last knot on her gear before grabbing her scarf. “I don’t understand why you’d ask him in the first place.”

You glance at her through the mirror, lips twitching. “Because he’d tell me the truth, not just what I want to hear.”

Sasha hums thoughtfully. “That is true… Still, brave of you to just walk up to him like that.”

You roll your eyes, running the comb through your hair. “He’s my Captain, not some untouchable ghost. You all act like he’s going to snap my neck for asking a question.”

Sasha gives you an incredulous look. “He would if you tested him enough.”

Mikasa, though less dramatic, simply says, “You’re more comfortable with him than the rest of us are.”

You pause at that, the weight of her words settling over you.

It’s true.

The others hold Levi at a distance—not just because of his rank, but because of who he is. Humanity’s Strongest. A leader, an authority, a presence that demands respect with the sheer force of his being. You’ve seen how they sit up straighter, how they quiet down when he enters a room, how the air around him shifts the atmosphere entirely.

And yet, with you, the distance is different. You still respect him, still heed his orders, but you don’t shrink away under his stare. You step forward, meet his gaze, hold your ground—not recklessly, not without care, but with something else. Something more solid.

You shake off the thought, focusing back on your reflection as you finish smoothing down the last strand of hair.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “it’s not my fault you all look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever he’s in the room.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue, simply picking up her gear and heading toward the door. “I’ll see you outside.”

Sasha gives you one last lingering look, then grins. “If you ever do cross a line, just give me your rations before you get executed.”

You snort. “Noted.”

As Sasha follows after Mikasa, you take one last glance at yourself before heading toward the door as well, rolling your shoulders back as you mentally prepare for the day ahead.

Even if you are more comfortable with the Captain, that doesn’t mean you’ll ever forget who he is.

Levi Ackerman.

Your Captain. Your superior.

The strongest soldier alive.

And somehow, someone you can’t seem to stop seeking out.

—

The morning air is crisp as you step outside, the lingering chill of the earlier rain still clinging to the air. The ground is damp beneath your boots, the scent of wet earth and wood mixing with the sharp freshness of the wind rolling over the fields beyond the walls. The sun is beginning to break through the thinning clouds, casting golden streaks across the headquarters, its light catching on the dew that clings to the edges of the grass.

You inhale deeply, letting the coolness of it wake you up fully. The barracks are already alive with movement—cadets milling about, some heading toward training fields, others finishing up morning duties. The sound of voices, of boots against gravel, of birds stirring in the trees beyond, all mix together into the low, steady hum of a world still in motion.

Sasha and Mikasa are waiting for you a few feet away, Mikasa adjusting the straps of her gear with practiced efficiency, Sasha idly bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s trying to generate enough energy to get through the day. She notices you first, squinting at you with exaggerated focus before nodding in approval.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. The Captain was right. The straight hair suits you.”

You snort, walking up to them. “You sound so betrayed.”

“I am betrayed,” she huffs dramatically. “But only because I wanted to be right.”

Mikasa shakes her head. “It was a practical answer. Levi only ever gives practical answers.”

You hum, knowing that’s true, but there’s something about the way he’d looked at you when he said it—how he’d assessed you with that sharp gaze of his, how he’d told you without hesitation, straighten it—that lingers in your thoughts more than it should.

But before you can dwell on it too much, the sound of boots approaching pulls your attention.

Erwin and Levi are walking through the yard, their presence commanding without effort. There’s something about the way the air shifts when they’re together—Erwin with his calm, calculated confidence, and Levi, sharp-edged and observant, moving with quiet precision.

Cadets straighten as they pass, conversations dulling slightly out of instinct, as if the weight of leadership alone is enough to pull people to attention. Even Jean, who normally has some sort of wisecrack ready, keeps his mouth firmly shut as they approach.

You, on the other hand, watch them with interest. Erwin is speaking in low tones, his expression unreadable, while Levi listens, his eyes narrowed slightly, his arms crossed as he walks in measured steps beside him.

But then, as if drawn by some unspoken pull, Levi’s gaze flickers—to you.

It’s brief, but it lingers just long enough to be intentional. A silent acknowledgment. A glance that feels heavier than just casual observation.

Your heart stirs in a way you don’t fully understand.

You don’t break eye contact right away. You hold it, just for a second longer than necessary, before nodding in quiet greeting, maintaining the formality expected of you.

Levi doesn’t nod back, but there’s a shift in his expression, something so subtle that only someone looking for it would notice. And then he looks away, back to Erwin, as if nothing had happened at all.

The moment passes, but it leaves something behind.

Mikasa notices. She doesn’t say anything, but she notices. The slight tilt of her head, the way her gaze flickers between you and Levi before she simply adjusts her gear again, tells you that much.

Sasha, however, being Sasha, definitely notices.

She leans in slightly, voice hushed but teasing. “That was a look.”

You keep your expression carefully neutral. “That was nothing.”

Sasha smirks. “Sure it was.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth spreading beneath your ribs is undeniable.

—

The morning drifts into training, the sky fully clearing as the sun rises higher, warming the damp earth below. The air is filled with the rhythmic whoosh of ODM gear, the sharp snap of cables latching onto wooden poles, the occasional grunt of effort as cadets push themselves through the drills.

You move through the routine with practiced ease, the familiar weight of your gear settling into your movements, your muscles burning in that satisfying way that comes with hard work. The wind rushes past your ears as you propel yourself forward, the world blurring for a moment before you land solidly on the next platform, inhaling sharply before launching off again.

Training days like this—ones where you can feel your strength, your skill, the sheer power of your body moving through the air—are the ones that remind you why you fight. Why you push.

You fall into rhythm with the others, weaving between them, keeping pace as you scan for your next maneuver. Jean and Eren are bickering between swings, Sasha is somehow eating mid-air, and Mikasa—unsurprisingly—is moving effortlessly, her form almost unnatural in its efficiency.

And then there’s Levi.

His presence alone changes the air.

He’s not just watching—he’s analyzing, assessing the squad with sharp, unwavering focus. His movements are controlled, effortless, the way he balances his weight even as he stands observing more a testament to his skill than anything else.

Every once in a while, he calls out adjustments. A sharp, no-nonsense command. A correction before anyone even has a chance to mess up.

And when his voice cuts through the field—low, firm, carrying more authority in a single word than most could in an entire speech—people listen.

You land solidly on a nearby platform, catching your breath for just a second before you hear it.

“Your form’s getting sloppy.”

You turn sharply.

Levi is watching you, arms crossed, gaze heavy.

You blink, surprised at first, before narrowing your eyes slightly. “It’s not sloppy.”

Levi raises a brow. “You hesitated before your last swing.”

You huff, rolling your shoulders back, feeling the weight of your gear settle evenly again. “Only because Jean was in my way.”

Jean, from several feet away, throws up his hands. “Why is my name always being thrown around?”

Levi doesn’t even acknowledge him. His attention stays on you.

“You’re letting yourself get distracted,” he says evenly, gaze unwavering. “Fix it.”

Your jaw tightens slightly.

You could argue, you want to argue, but you know better. Levi doesn’t say things for the sake of it. If he’s calling you out, it’s because he knows you can do better.

And that bothers you more than anything.

You nod once, sharp. “Understood, Captain.”

Levi watches you for a second longer before giving the smallest nod of approval. And then, just like that, his attention shifts—back to the squad, back to the broader picture, back to everything else that needs his attention.

You take a slow breath before launching yourself forward again, this time sharper, faster.

And though he doesn’t look at you again, you know he’s still watching.

And that’s enough to push you harder.

—

It was the end of the short lesson as you were released for the weekend.

“Guys,” You fall back into step with the girls, absentmindedly stroking a piece of your hair, “what if he only chose straight hair because it’s more convenient, not because it necessarily looked better on me? How can I know?”

Sasha groans dramatically, throwing her arms in the air. “Oh my god, you’re still thinking about this?”

Mikasa, walking beside you with her gear slung over her shoulder, gives you a sidelong glance. “Levi doesn’t say things just to say them. If he said straight, he meant it.”

You let out a thoughtful hum, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. “But what if he only said it because it’s easier, not because it actually looked better?”

Sasha snorts. “Then I guess you’ll just have to change it up and see if he reacts.”

You blink at her. “What, like curl my hair next time and test his response?”

Mikasa shakes her head as if she can already see where this is going. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sasha grins mischievously. “I do.”

You narrow your eyes in thought, considering.

Mikasa sighs. “He’s our Captain, not some noble at a ballroom.”

“Exactly,” you quip, smirking. “Which means if he does notice, it’ll mean something.”

Mikasa doesn’t respond, just presses her lips into a thin line as if choosing to disengage entirely.

Sasha, however, nudges you with her elbow. “Alright, next mission: Operation Look Pretty and See if Captain Notices.”

You huff a laugh. “That is not what we’re calling it.”

Sasha grins. “Too late. It’s already official.”

Mikasa sighs again, rubbing her temple. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

You smirk but don’t push further, letting the subject drop—for now. But deep down, curiosity lingers.

Because, honestly?

You kind of do want to see if he notices.

—

“I mean, we are going out tonight to celebrate Jean’s birthday. I can accidentally slip by him with my curled hair to see his reaction…” You muse thoughtfully as you get change out of uniform and into more casual clothing, appreciating the cool breeze that hits your legs as you twirl in a skirt.

Mikasa groans, rubbing her temple like she’s already regretting being part of this conversation. “That’s ridiculous.”

Sasha, on the other hand, lights up. “No, that’s genius.”

You grin, brushing through your hair as you sit on the edge of your bed. “Is it though?”

“Yes,” Sasha says immediately. “Because listen, if Levi doesn’t care, he won’t react. But if he notices—even a little—that means he actually has an opinion on how you look.” She gestures dramatically. “And that would mean something.”

Mikasa exhales through her nose. “Or it just means he’s observant and has an opinion on everything.”

You hum thoughtfully, tying your hair into a loose ponytail for now. “That’s why it’s a test, Mikasa. For science.”

Mikasa stares at you blankly. “That is not how science works.”

Sasha claps her hands together. “Alright, so plan’s simple—tonight, you curl your hair, we go out for Jean’s birthday, and at some point, you just... happen to slip by the Captain.”

You nod, amused at how invested Sasha has become. “Exactly. Totally casual. No effort at all.”

Mikasa shakes her head, standing up and adjusting the straps on her uniform. “I’m not encouraging this. If you want to waste your time overanalyzing Levi’s non-reaction, that’s on you.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “It’s called gathering data, Mikasa.”

You laugh, standing as well. “Exactly. And besides, it’s just for fun.”

Mikasa gives you a look that says you are all insufferable, but she doesn’t argue further. Instead, she merely slings her gear over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you both outside.”

As she leaves, Sasha leans in conspiratorially. “She’s totally curious too, she just won’t admit it.”

You smirk. “Oh, definitely.”

Sasha grins. “Alright, then. Let’s make Jean’s birthday party very interesting.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of training, chores, and preparation for the evening. By the time the sun dips low over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft orange and violet, the atmosphere around headquarters shifts into something lighter, more relaxed. It’s rare to have a night like this—where everyone can unwind, even just for a few hours, without the weight of duty pressing down on them.

You stand in front of the small mirror in the barracks, fingers deftly working through your hair as you curl it, piece by piece. The heat from the iron brushes against your fingertips, and you carefully shape each strand, letting the soft waves fall naturally over your shoulders.

Mikasa, seated on her bunk, pretends not to watch but definitely watches. She says nothing, but the occasional glance in the mirror’s reflection gives her away.

Sasha, on the other hand, is fully invested, sitting cross-legged on her bed and leaning forward. “Oh, yeah. This was definitely the right call.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

She grins. “You’re about to ruin a man’s whole perception of himself.”

You snort, shaking your head as you adjust the last curl. “You’re making it sound like a battle strategy.”

Sasha shrugs. “If you win, I say it counts.”

Mikasa finally sighs. “It’s ridiculous to think Levi would even care about something like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at her through the mirror. “Then there’s no harm in testing it, right?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, but doesn’t argue.

Satisfied, you stand up, smoothing your hands over your outfit—something casual but presentable, enough to blend in while still feeling put-together. The anticipation hums beneath your skin, but you shake it off, reminding yourself that this is not some grand event.

It’s just Jean’s birthday.

And Levi noticing or not noticing your hair is just... extra data.

—

The town is alive with warmth and movement, the faint glow of lanterns casting golden light against cobblestone streets. It’s a stark contrast to headquarters—where the air is always tense, where everything is lined with purpose and duty. Here, laughter spills from tavern doors, the clinking of glasses and distant music drifting through the air.

The squad gathers outside one of the better-kept taverns, waiting for stragglers before heading in. Jean stands at the center of it all, basking in the attention of his birthday, grinning as Connie pretends to give a heartfelt speech about his immense wisdom and contributions to humanity.

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you adjust your jacket. “You’re laying it on thick, Connie.”

Connie throws up his hands. “It’s his birthday, let me lie to the guy.”

Jean scoffs, shoving him lightly. “At least someone is recognizing my greatness.”

Mikasa stands beside you, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. Sasha is already trying to drag Reiner and Bertholdt into a bet over who can drink the most before passing out. The atmosphere is light, easy—exactly the kind of night you all need.

And then, just as you’re about to head inside, you feel it.

A shift.

The kind of awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You glance over your shoulder, and sure enough—Levi is approaching from the other end of the street. He’s walking with Erwin and Hange, both of whom are engaged in quiet conversation. But Levi—Levi is quiet as always, sharp eyes scanning the gathered squad as he moves.

Your heart does a stupid little lurch in your chest.

It’s not a big deal. You know that. But suddenly, every single curl feels too obvious, every strand of hair placed too deliberately.

Sasha subtly elbows you, voice low. “Showtime.”

You swallow, ignoring the ridiculousness of it all as you casually—very casually—turn your head and pretend to adjust your sleeve, making it look like you just so happen to be standing directly in Levi’s line of sight.

He slows slightly as he approaches, his eyes flickering over the group in his usual assessing way. You watch carefully, scanning for any sign of reaction—anything at all—but his face remains unreadable.

And then—his gaze lands on you.

It’s brief. Just a flicker. But something shifts.

His sharp eyes drag over your hair—not just in passing, but with intent. The tiniest hesitation, the kind that would be imperceptible to anyone not looking for it.

You hold your breath.

And then, just as quickly as it happened, it’s gone.

His expression smooths back into neutrality, his attention snapping forward again as he brushes past you with no comment, following Erwin and Hange into the tavern.

You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of Sasha’s expectant stare burning into the side of your face.

“Well?” she whispers, practically vibrating. “Did he notice?”

You press your lips together, considering.

“…He paused.”

Sasha grabs your arm. “OH, MY GOD.”

Mikasa groans, already walking ahead. “I refuse to be part of this.”

Jean, oblivious to everything, is already inside, basking in the attention of his own celebration.

You, however, linger for just a second longer, glancing at the door Levi disappeared into.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe it was everything.

But either way—he paused.

And that was more than enough.

—

The warmth of the tavern hits you the moment you step inside, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside. The scent of old wood, spiced ale, and freshly baked bread lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter from a drunken patron. The flickering candlelight casts everything in a dim, golden glow, the kind that makes the edges of reality feel softer, less urgent.

Jean, reveling in the rare occasion of being the center of attention, immediately heads toward an empty table near the back, where the rest of your squad is already gathering. Connie slings an arm around his shoulders, teasing him about how old he’s getting, while Sasha is already scanning the menu, clearly prioritizing food over conversation.

You settle into a seat across from Mikasa, who looks less interested in the celebration and more like she’s simply here to make sure Eren doesn’t do anything stupid. You smirk, leaning on your elbow. “I bet you five rations Eren ends up in a bar fight before the night is over.”

Mikasa doesn’t even blink. “I’m not betting against something that’s guaranteed to happen.”

You laugh, but before you can respond, the door swings open again, and your attention flickers instinctively to the entrance.

Levi steps inside, following Erwin and Hange as they make their way toward a separate table reserved for officers. Unlike the rest of you—who have already started loosening up, the casual energy of the tavern slipping into your movements—Levi remains the same. Composed. Straight-backed. Completely unfazed by the shift in atmosphere.

But you don’t miss the way his sharp gaze subtly sweeps over the room, assessing the layout, cataloging who’s here, where the exits are. It’s instinctual, second nature. Even in a space meant for relaxation, he’s still a soldier first.

He moves toward his seat, and for a second, just a brief second, his gaze flickers in your direction.

You feel the weight of it, even from across the room.

It’s unreadable, just like before. But you know he saw.

Your heart does that stupid little skip again, and you force yourself to look away, suppressing the smug smile threatening to form on your lips.

Sasha, however, does not suppress hers. She leans in close, voice hushed but practically vibrating with excitement. “He paused again.”

You shake your head. “It could have been anything.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

Mikasa sighs, already regretting sitting next to you two. “If you two spent half this energy on training, you’d both be Captain-level by now.”

Sasha grins. “Okay, but watching this unfold is so much more entertaining.”

You roll your eyes, picking up a glass of water and taking a slow sip, hoping to calm down the unnecessary giddiness that’s settled in your chest. It’s stupid—you know it’s stupid—but something about Levi’s pause feels like a tiny, unspoken victory.

Still, you shake it off. The night isn’t about that. It’s about Jean, about unwinding, about letting yourself be a person instead of just a soldier for once.

And so, you let the conversation around you pull you in. You tease Jean about his dramatic speeches, you steal a bite of Sasha’s food when she isn’t looking, you let yourself sink into the warmth of camaraderie, the normalcy of it all.

Time moves easily, drinks are passed around, and the sound of laughter grows louder as the night wears on.

Until—

“You’re drinking too fast.”

The voice is low, firm, unmistakable.

Your muscles stiffen slightly before you even see him, but when you glance up, sure enough, Levi is standing beside you, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

Your glass, half-full with whatever cheap ale Sasha had convinced you to try, is still in your hand. You raise an eyebrow, tilting it slightly. “I’ve had one drink, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t budge. “And I’ve seen what happens when you lot get carried away.”

Around you, the others fall quiet, the easygoing atmosphere from moments ago shifting under Levi’s presence. Even Jean—who, on his own birthday, should technically be allowed to act out a little—sits up straighter, eyes flickering toward you with mild concern.

You swallow, knowing that Levi is right, that the last thing you need is to be unfocused, careless.

Still, you offer a small, placating smile. “I hear you, Captain. Don’t worry—I know my limits.”

Levi watches you for a moment longer, gaze lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. But then he exhales sharply through his nose, something between a sigh and a quiet acknowledgment, before stepping back. “Tch. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You nod, and with that, Levi finally retreats, making his way back toward his own table.

The second he’s out of earshot, Sasha lets out a long breath. “Wow. He really keeps an eye on you, huh?”

Jean shakes his head. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or be impressed you can get away with talking back.”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t talking back. I was just… clarifying.”

Mikasa hums. “He didn’t call anyone else out. Just you.”

That gives you pause.

You glance back toward Levi’s table, where he’s now sitting with Erwin and Hange, sipping from a teacup instead of anything stronger. His posture remains the same—composed, indifferent—but his awareness of the room is ever-present.

And maybe, just maybe, his awareness of you is a little sharper than the rest.

You turn back to your friends, shaking your head. “You’re all reading too much into it.”

Sasha smirks. “Are we?”

You don’t answer.

You just take another sip of water, ignoring the way your heart betrays you with a quiet, persistent rhythm.

—

The world feels a little softer around the edges, the golden glow of lanterns casting everything in a dreamlike haze. The warmth of the alcohol hums beneath your skin, not overwhelming, but just enough—enough to dull the weight of the past week, enough to make the music sound richer, enough to let yourself exist in the moment without overthinking it.

The tavern is alive now, laughter spilling over the strum of instruments, boots tapping against the wooden floor in time with the lively rhythm. Around you, your friends are caught up in the revelry—Connie and Sasha are engaged in some ridiculous footwork competition, Jean is attempting to twirl Historia around and failing miserably, and even Mikasa, ever composed, allows herself a small smile as she watches the chaos unfold.

And then—your hands are caught in someone else’s.

You blink, surprised, as a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy grin—takes your hand and pulls you into the movement of the dance floor. His grip is firm, his confidence easy, and before you can even register it, you’re being spun into the rhythm of the music.

You offer a polite smile, adjusting to the steps as he twirls you once, twice. He seems friendly enough, his expression open and relaxed, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, let yourself be just another person in a tavern, caught in the joy of the night.

But then—

His hold tightens.

Subtly, but noticeably.

His hand lingers just a little too long on your waist, his grip just a bit firmer than necessary.

Your instincts, dulled by the pleasant haze in your mind, take a moment to catch up. You keep your smile in place, but a quiet unease settles in your stomach. You try to subtly shift your weight, to create some distance between you, but he moves with you, maintaining the closeness.

A polite exit. You just need a polite exit.

You clear your throat lightly, offering a small laugh. “Alright, I think I need a break—”

The man chuckles, still holding you in place. “Come on, one more dance.”

Something in his tone makes your skin prickle—not outright threatening, but entitled, as if your willingness to dance once meant you owed him more.

Your smile tightens. “I should really—”

And then, before you have the chance to finish your sentence, the air changes.

A presence—sharp, heavy, unmistakable—settles behind you.

The man stiffens slightly, his grip loosening just enough for you to slip a step back, as a new voice cuts through the space between you, low and edged with quiet authority.

“Let her go.”

Your breath catches.

Slowly, you turn your head.

Levi stands there, expression unreadable, eyes dark and steady. His posture is relaxed—but in that way, the way that suggests he is anything but. His arms are crossed, but the tension in his shoulders is subtle, the kind you’d only notice if you knew him.

And you do.

The man—who had been all confidence and charm just moments ago—hesitates, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He sizes Levi up, as if debating whether or not to push his luck.

He makes the wrong choice.

“She was dancing with me,” the man says, lifting his hands slightly in false innocence, though his tone holds a thread of defiance. “Didn’t seem to mind.”

A sharp, quiet pause.

Levi tilts his head ever so slightly, eyes flickering between you and the man with chilling precision. His voice, when he speaks again, is calm.

“I wasn’t asking.”

The weight of those words settles between them, heavy, immovable.

Something flickers in the man’s face—hesitation, irritation, then a quiet understanding that this is not a fight he wants to pick.

With a huff, he raises his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she had a guard dog.”

You feel Levi tense, just for a split second.

Before anything can escalate, you step forward, offering the man a sharp, polite smile. “Thank you for the dance,” you say evenly, voice firm. “But I’m done now.”

The man’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, then finally, he scoffs and turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

The tension lingers, like a blade just barely sheathed.

You exhale slowly, turning fully toward Levi.

His gaze sweeps over you—quick, assessing, making sure you’re unharmed. When he’s satisfied, he clicks his tongue. “You need to be more careful.”

You cross your arms. “I was being careful.”

Levi raises a brow. “Didn’t look like it.”

You huff, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was handling it, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his eyes flicker over your face again, something unreadable in his expression. Then, finally—

“I know.”

It’s not an admission of fault, not quite. But it is an acknowledgment.

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet weight behind those words.

Before you can say anything, he exhales sharply and steps back. “Oi. You’re reckless.”

You smirk. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Levi doesn’t dignify that with a response, just shakes his head. But there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something lingering beneath the usual exasperation.

Something like relief.

And maybe—just maybe—you weren’t the only one who noticed the way he paused tonight.

—

“Well Captain?” You smile, laughing as you sidestep to avoid Sasha twirling with a recently hired chef that you had seen around a lot more recently. “Isn’t the gentleman supposed to offer the lady a dance? Awfully rude to step in without an intention of following through, don’t you think?”

Levi exhales sharply through his nose, unimpressed, arms still crossed as he watches you with that unreadable expression. The tavern is alive around you—figures moving in vibrant swirls of laughter and motion, the wooden floor shaking beneath the weight of stomping boots, the rich hum of music weaving through the air.

But here, in this moment, it’s just you and him.

You smirk, tilting your head. “Come on, Captain. You can’t step in all dramatic like that and not at least pretend to play along.”

Levi doesn’t move, but there’s something assessing in his gaze, something like quiet calculation behind those steel-gray eyes. You wonder if he’s thinking of an escape, a way to dismiss you with one of his usual deadpan remarks.

But then—

A hand.

Not grabbing, not demanding—just a simple extension. A silent answer.

Your breath catches in your throat.

It’s brief, just a flicker of hesitation before his fingers brush yours, just enough to take your hand without giving anything away. His grip is firm, but there’s a carefulness to it, as if he’s aware of the weight behind the action, of the unspoken shift in the space between you.

And then—he moves.

Not in the showy, exaggerated way the others are throwing themselves into the music, but in a way that’s purely Levi—sharp, controlled, precise. His grip on your hand remains steady as he guides you through the steps, his other hand finding the small of your back, light but firm.

For a second, you forget everything else.

The alcohol, the laughter, the blurred movement of the world around you—it all fades into something distant, something inconsequential compared to the quiet gravity of him.

His touch is careful but certain, his movements seamless despite the clear reluctance in his expression. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable—it’s just that Levi Ackerman is not a man who does things without purpose.

And yet, here he is, following through.

You smile, leaning in just slightly, voice barely above the hum of the music. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

Levi scoffs lightly. "You’re lucky I haven’t stepped on your feet.”

You laugh—really laugh, the warmth of it bubbling up in your chest, light and unrestrained. The sound earns you the barest flicker of something in his eyes—not quite amusement, but something close.

The moment stretches, neither of you breaking the rhythm, neither of you pulling away.

And for the first time that night, you’re certain of one thing:

Levi definitely noticed your hair.

The music swells around you, a lively, unrelenting current of sound and motion, but you barely register it. The tavern, the laughter, the blur of bodies dancing past—it all becomes background noise, a distant hum compared to the quiet weight of the moment unfolding between you and Levi.

His hand is steady against yours, his grip firm but never forceful. His other hand, resting lightly at the small of your back, holds no urgency, no demand—just quiet control, a careful presence. He moves with you in that same effortless way he fights—with intention, with precision, with the kind of quiet mastery that makes even the smallest of gestures feel deliberate.

And yet, for all his competence, you can feel the reluctance in him.

Not reluctance toward you, necessarily. But toward the situation. Toward the ease with which he’s letting this happen.

Toward the fact that he is here, dancing with you, indulging this moment when he so rarely indulges anything.

You can see it in the tension just barely visible in his shoulders, in the way his jaw ticks subtly, as if his own body is surprised by the fact that he’s still holding onto you.

You press your lips together, suppressing a smirk. “You’re concentrating too much.”

Levi exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “I don’t dance.”

“You’re dancing right now.”

“Tch. You call this dancing?”

You grin, leaning in just enough that your words are meant only for him. “Well, you are holding me awfully close for someone who doesn’t dance, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t react immediately, doesn’t pull away or push you off with a sharp remark like you half-expect him to. Instead, his grip subtly adjusts—not tightening, not loosening, but shifting in a way that tells you he’s aware.

Aware of the closeness. Aware of the way your breath brushes faintly against his collar. Aware of the warmth of your body so near to his own.

It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you feel it—that minuscule shift in his fingers against yours, in the way his hand remains steady at your back, holding you just at the edge of something uncertain.

He doesn’t break the eye contact you didn’t even realize you had been holding.

“…You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, voice low, almost lost beneath the sound of music and laughter around you.

You smile. “And yet, here you are.”

Levi exhales, his thumb grazing the back of your hand as he adjusts his grip—so small a movement, so imperceptible, that you wonder if he even realizes he did it.

Or if he does, and just isn’t stopping himself.

The room spins slightly—not from the alcohol, not from the movement, but from the sheer weight of the moment, from the impossible tenderness that exists in the spaces between words, in the breaths you don’t take, in the lingering warmth of a touch that neither of you are pulling away from.

And for the first time since you pulled him into this, you realize something.

You’re testing him.

Not just to see if he noticed your hair, not just to push his limits, but to see if he will choose to let this moment exist.

If he will choose to let himself stay.

Your heart pounds as you take a breath. “Levi—”

A crash from the other side of the room interrupts you, followed by loud, drunken shouting.

Levi’s body tenses immediately, his hand at your back twitching as his head whips toward the commotion. The moment between you shatters instantly, replaced by sharp awareness, by the cold snap of duty.

He doesn’t say a word. He just lets go.

The loss of his touch is instant, like stepping into cold air after being wrapped in warmth. The shift is so sharp, so complete, that it almost makes you doubt whether the moment you just shared was real at all.

Levi steps back, his expression neutral again, unreadable as he scans the room, already assessing.

You swallow, forcing yourself to do the same—to shake it off, to pretend like your pulse isn’t still pounding in your ears, like the ghost of his hands on you isn’t still lingering on your skin.

He glances back at you, his gaze flickering over you once, checking—like he’s making sure you’re still steady, still standing, before he turns his attention back to the rest of the room.

“Stay here,” he mutters. And then, just like that, he’s gone, moving toward the source of the disturbance with the same effortless sharpness that makes him humanity’s strongest.

You watch him go, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The music carries on, the tavern keeps spinning, but you remain rooted in place, heart still racing, the memory of his warmth still imprinted on your skin.

And for the first time tonight, you realize—

You don’t need Levi to say that he noticed you.

Because in the way he held onto you, even for just a moment—he already did.

—

You scan the room to see if any of your friends are in danger. After seeing them slowly making their way back to the corner table, you bunch up your skirt before striding across the room to Erwin. "Commander, what is it? Where's Captain? Squad Leader Hange? What are my orders, sir?"

You stand unflinching before him, but your heart beats thunderously, unsure of where the Captain went and if he'll be okay.

Erwin’s sharp blue eyes flicker down to you as you approach, his expression unreadable but steady, as always. The weight of command rests on his shoulders like a mantle, effortless in the way only a man like him can carry. He does not startle, does not seem surprised that you’ve come to him first, as if he expected you would.

His gaze scans over the tavern, over the shifting figures of soldiers and civilians alike, before settling back on you. “It was just a minor scuffle,” he says, voice calm, deliberate. “A few drunk patrons getting too comfortable around our cadets. Captain Levi and Squad Leader Hange are handling it.”

Your fingers tighten slightly against the fabric of your skirt, heart still hammering in your chest. “Should I assist?”

Erwin studies you for a fraction longer than necessary before speaking. “No. The situation is under control.” A pause. “But it’s good that you came to me first.”

Your lips press together, trying to steady yourself. “It’s my duty.”

Erwin gives the smallest nod, an unspoken acknowledgment that you understand what it means to be a soldier, even in moments like this. Even with your pulse still thrumming from something that has nothing to do with a threat.

You inhale sharply, eyes flickering toward the direction Levi disappeared. “Where did Captain Levi go?”

“He’s outside.” Erwin’s voice remains as even as ever, but something in the way he watches you is too perceptive, too knowing. “Ensuring the situation is fully resolved.”

Your stomach twists, but you keep your stance firm. “Permission to check on him, sir?”

A pause.

Not hesitation, not refusal—just assessment.

Then, Erwin gives the faintest tilt of his chin. “Go.”

You don’t waste a second.

—

The cold air hits you as soon as you step outside. The tavern’s warmth is instantly swallowed by the crisp night breeze, the scent of rain still lingering from the earlier drizzle. Lanterns flicker dimly against the darkness, casting long, stretching shadows over the cobblestone streets.

And then—you see him.

Levi stands a few paces ahead, his back to you, his posture rigid but controlled. Even from here, you can see the way his fingers flex slightly at his sides, how his head tilts just barely, listening to something unseen.

There’s a man at his feet—conscious but slumped against the wall, groaning, as if the fight had been drained out of him in an instant.

Levi had taken care of it. Of course he had.

But you don’t care about the drunk.

You care about him.

You step forward, boots tapping against stone, and his head immediately shifts at the sound. He doesn’t fully turn—doesn’t have to. He already knows it’s you.

“Captain.” Your voice is steadier than your pulse. “Are you alright?”

For a moment, Levi doesn’t respond. He exhales slowly through his nose, a habit you recognize—one he does when he’s recalibrating, shifting from fight to stillness.

Then, at last, he turns.

The dim lantern light catches against the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the slight furrow between his brows, the tension still visible in the line of his jaw. His uniform is slightly rumpled from movement, but there’s no sign of injury—no blood, no bruising, just Levi, standing in the quiet aftermath of something already finished.

He studies you for a moment, eyes scanning—searching, checking—as if making sure you’re still in one piece.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue, looking away. “You should be inside.”

You step closer, searching his face. “So should you.”

Levi exhales, the barest hint of exasperation beneath the breath. “Did Erwin send you?”

You shake your head. “I came on my own.”

At that, something flickers in his expression. Not surprise—more like quiet understanding.

Your fingers twitch slightly at your sides, unsure of what to say, unsure if there’s anything to say that he’ll actually listen to. So instead, you just—watch him.

The lines of his face, the way the dim glow of lanterns traces the edges of his expression, how his eyes—normally so impassive—seem darker under the weight of the night.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then—

“You’re shaking.”

It’s so quiet that you almost miss it.

You blink. “What?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to your hands, and you realize, belatedly, that he’s right—your fingers are trembling, ever so slightly, still buzzing with the leftover adrenaline from the evening.

You open your mouth to dismiss it, to say something lighthearted, to wave it off as nothing, but—

Levi moves first.

His hand—warm, calloused, steady—reaches out. He doesn’t take yours, doesn’t grip your wrist, but he touches. A brush of fingertips against your knuckles, a fleeting connection, just enough to ground you in place.

Your breath catches.

It lasts only a second.

Then, just as quickly, he pulls away, as if realizing what he did, as if catching himself before he lingers too long.

You swallow, staring at him.

“Go inside,” he murmurs, voice quieter than before.

Your heart is still hammering, but it’s not from the cold anymore.

“…You’re sure you’re okay?” you ask, softer this time.

Levi holds your gaze, something unreadable in his own.

Then, with the barest tilt of his chin—

“I’m fine.”

And this time, you believe him.

197 notes · View notes

mangiomochi · 2 days ago

Text

LM’s Social Media

I made this long post to list all the social media accounts and profiles of Luigi Mangione. As many of you already know, a lot of his profiles have been taken down. The platforms where we could see the more personal side of Luigi and his experiences, like Facebook, Instagram, and Reddit, have been deleted. However, fortunately, some of his profiles on other platforms remain active to this day.

I’ll try to list each of these sites. If you see anything that needs to be corrected or know of another LM profile that isn’t listed here, I’d appreciate it if you shared it. My goal is to keep this post as updated as possible.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so if you notice anything odd in the writing, I apologize.

Facebook: luigi.mangione.2

Status: Taken Down First post: Jan 17, 2010 Last post: Aug 24, 2019

LM has had a Facebook account for quite some time—likely his first social media platform. His earliest posts date back to 2010. His last post was in 2019, which was also the year he was most active on the platform. That year, he posted several photos from a trip to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico with his fraternity and the three months he spent as a head counselor at Stanford in Palo Alto, CA.

Instagram: @luigi.from.fiji

Status: Taken Down First post: Aug 13, 2018 Last post: Aug 27, 2021

LM’s first Instagram post was in the summer of 2018. In that post, he explicitly mentioned that he created the account just to give one more follower to his sister’s blog. (LM has two sisters.) He also tagged his sister @lifewithlu__—or whatever handle she had at the time. If you've come across accounts currently using that handle on Instagram or Twitter, they are fake. LM’s sister apparently changed her username a while ago and later deactivated her account after LM’s arrest.

As for LM’s Instagram activity, his last posts were from the summer of 2021. He shared photos from a trip to Puerto Rico, where he was working remotely for some time, and from a trip to Hawaii with his other sister. LM also posted pictures with a friend he met at Stanford in 2019.

Additionally, LM had a highlight section featuring his predictions for 2027, which he uploaded in Jan 2021.

LM became inactive in 2022, despite appearing in a few posts made by his roommates in Hawaii. However, many of these posts were later deleted, or the accounts were set to private—likely to completely disassociate from LM and the allegations against him, or to avoid harassment from either his supporters or detractors.

In 2022, despite not posting anything himself, he was tagged in various posts and stories by his roommates and friends in Hawaii.

Instagram 2: @luiginmangione (probably fake)

Status: Taken Down

This account is probably fake, but we can’t be entirely sure. Unlike the confirmed account, this one was private and also has been deactivated. It had zero posts and 404 followers—an interesting detail, as "404" in some areas of computing means "not found," which is notable given that LM was reported missing in 2024.

As for the profile picture and bio, there was nothing we hadn’t seen before, making it highly unlikely that this account actually belonged to him.

Instagram 3 or Another Social Media Account

In messages between LM and one of his friends, his friend mentioned that he was wondering who the person trying to follow him was. It seems that in February 2024, LM created an account where it was impossible to recognize that it was him.

YouTube

First active: Unknown Last active: May 2024

You've probably already seen his supposed channel—the one with a single uploaded video and another that was never released. What was in that second video? Most likely some form of self-promotion from whoever was behind that account. Fortunately, the channel was taken down before that could happen.

However, we do know that LM had not just one but three YouTube channels, all of which were unfortunately removed due to YouTube’s absurd policies. According to the CNN article where this was mentioned, LM hadn't uploaded anything in seven months, meaning his last content would have been from May 2024. It's a complete mystery what he had posted—most likely something related to his trip to Asia. Sadly, we may never know. YouTube acted so quickly against LM’s channels that the internet didn’t have time to archive the deleted content.

Another possible type of content LM might have uploaded to these channels includes drone footage from Hawaii and Asia, projects from his time at Penn (2016–2020), or even school projects.

GitHub: lnmangione

Status: Still Up First active: Feb 27, 2015 Last active: May 8, 2021

In case you’re not familiar, GitHub is a platform where users can store and update code—directly related to LM’s career and essential for anyone studying or working in a field that involves coding.

LM was active on GitHub from 2015 to 2021, contributing to personal projects, FTC (Robotics), and university assignments. In 2020, after graduating, he used it to prepare for coding interviews. By 2021, he was mainly working on private projects, likely related to his remote job. Apparently, Luigi stopped being active on GitHub in 2021.

Twitter: @PepMangione

Status: Still Up First tweet: Apr 14, 2016 Last active: Jun 10, 2024

This was probably the social media platform where LM was most active before his arrest. His most active year was 2024, and he had been using this account since 2016, although he didn’t post anything after 2016 and only became active again in 2021

His earliest tweets appear to be automated posts with random numbers, possibly tests for some kind of Twitter-connected application.

Aside from that, his Twitter provides insight into his ideology, which seems somewhat ambiguous. Politically, he didn’t appear to have strong affiliations.

After his arrest, LM’s account was taken down but later reinstated. He followed only 71 people—later 70, after a Japanese poker player he met in Tokyo in February removed him as a follower. Currently, LM’s account has over half a million followers. Before his arrest, several accounts followed LM during the time he was missing—most of them were likely bot accounts, though not all, as some belonged to friends trying to contact him through public tweets you’ve probably already seen.

LM didn’t follow any of his friends on Twitter. Some of his friends did follow him, which means either he never followed them back or he unfollowed them at some point.

Regarding his banner, it consists of three images:

Breloom from Pokémon – This is directly linked to Theory 286, which you may have heard about. It connects Breloom’s Pokédex number (286) with LM’s total number of Twitter posts, which was also 286 (now 285), as well as with certain health insurance denial codes. Personally, I think this is just a coincidence. Breloom was likely there because LM liked the Pokémon—it’s a Fighting type, which can be linked to physical activity, and is a Mushroom, which could relate to his interest in psychedelics.

X-ray from his surgery – This was from a procedure that took place on July 21, 2023 (though I’m not sure if that’s the exact date). This means his header was updated at least after that date.

A shirtless photo of him on a mountain in Hawaii – We know that one of LM’s favorite activities was hiking.

The last known activity of LM on Twitter was on June 10, 2024. That day, he retweeted a post and sent a DM to Gurwinder in response to a tweet, asking him to show him how to curate his feed to display more valuable and educational content.

After LM disappeared, during July, October and November, his friends tried to reach out through tweets and probably also through private messages.

Twitter alt: (Fake)

I don’t remember the name of the account, but it was something related to mushrooms, it was initially linked to LM due to its similarities with his interests. However, it was later clarified that this profile does not belong to LM, and the shared interests were purely coincidental.

Linktree: lnmangione

State: Still up

Linktree is a platform that allows users to compile multiple links into a single page, making it easier to share various profiles, websites, or projects. Many content creators and professionals use it to organize their online presence.

LM did have a Linktree, but instead of links, it only contained a series of emojis. No actual links to his profiles or projects were listed, making it unclear what the purpose of his account was.

Here’s a possible interpretation of LM’s emojis based on what we know about his interests:

💻🤓 – Likely represents his tech side.

🥷🏃‍♂️🧘‍♂️🏋️ – Suggests his active lifestyle, including exercise, meditation, and discipline. The ninja could represent martial arts.

📚🤓 – Reflects his love for books and self-education.

🦍🧠 – Likely represents LM’s interest in gorillas, as seen on his Goodreads, Reddit and Twitter.

🍄🧠 – Likely a nod to his interest in psychedelics.

🐄👨‍⚖️ – Might reference ethical concerns about the meat industry or food regulations. It could also be a nod to Moo’s Law, a book exploring the rise of lab-grown meat, its potential to revolutionize food production, and the ethical, environmental, and economic implications of this technology.

☯️ – Represents balance, Eastern philosophy, or mindfulness practices.

Snapchat: luigimangione

State: Taken down

LM’s Snapchat was listed in his yearbook alongside his Facebook, suggesting he was quite active on the platform. After his arrest, his account remained up for a few days. Someone posted screenshots of his profile on TikTok before it was taken down, but I haven’t been able to find them. Perhaps that profile was also taken down due to TikTok’s constant censorship. His avatar was surprisingly well-made. If anyone has those screenshots and can share them, I would be grateful and will, of course, give credit.

Substack: @anotherdayanotherplay

Status: Still Up

Substack was where LM followed many of the writers he engaged with on Twitter. One of them was Gurwinder, a British blogger whose work LM seemed to appreciate deeply. He liked it enough to purchase a premium subscription to Gurwinder’s Substack blog, The Prism, which costs $200. This subscription granted LM perks like a video call with the writer.

Gurwinder’s articles cover topics such as gamification, short-form video platforms and their negative effects, and NPC behavior.

You can read more about this meeting in the article Gurwinder wrote about LM.

TikTok: @lnmangione (Fake)

Not Owned by LM

If you’ve seen some of LM’s tweets, you’ll know he was against short-form video platforms, making it unlikely that he ever had a TikTok account. The account mentioned here does not appear to belong to LM. Most of its reposted content is in German and English, Additionally, the type of content shared on this account doesn’t align with LM’s known interests.

TikTok started gaining popularity between 2018 and 2020, so we can’t completely rule out the possibility that LM once had an account.

LinkedIn: Luigi Mangione

Status: Still Up Joined: Feb, 2015 Last active: 2023

LinkedIn is the go-to social media platform for job searching, and LM’s profile provides detailed insight into his education and work history. His last known job was at TrueCar, where he had been working remotely for some time. He left this job at some point in 2023, but he never updated his LinkedIn to reflect this change.

The exact reason LM left TrueCar remains unknown. One theory suggests he resigned to take time off for traveling and recovering from his surgery. Another theory points to company-wide layoffs at TrueCar. However, we can’t confirm anything for sure, as TrueCar declined to provide detailed statements, citing employee privacy—specifically in LM’s case.

Reddit: u/mister_cactus

Status: Taken Down Joined: Feb 23, 2016 Last active: May 25, 2024

Reddit was one of the platforms where LM was quite active, and he remained so until May 2024, sharing details about his travel through Asia. LM created his Reddit account in 2016, the same year as his Twitter.

In the beginning, his activity was mostly related to university projects, garage sales, and Pokémon Go. Over the years, he also engaged with posts discussing brain fog, spondylolisthesis (spondy), and other topics. From his comments, we know that at some point, his health insurance provider was Blue Cross Blue Shield. He also shared details about his struggles with spondylolisthesis and how a surfing accident in 2022 worsened his condition.

In 2023, LM posted about his decision to undergo spinal fusion surgery, sharing research on successful cases. His most recent Reddit activity in 2024 included reposting videos of the mass street livestreams that have become common. LM seemed highly aware of how technology was creating these dystopian scenes.

His final Reddit post detailed what he packed for his trip to Asia—notable items included:

Backpacks

An iPhone 13 Mini

A drone - DJI Mini 2 Drone

A physical book (LM preferred them over digital ones)

Other personal essentials

Unfortunately, his account was taken down shortly after being discovered. It's unclear whether this was due to Reddit’s questionable policies or possibly mass reports against the account.

Goodreads: luigimangione

Status: Set to Private

LM’s Goodreads account gained attention after his arrest, offering a detailed look into his reading preferences. His library included a mix of genres, with notable categories such as:

Self-help books

Back pain management

Psychedelics

Agronomics

Moo’s Law

Exercise books

Books about Hawaiian islands

Fantasy and science fiction, including A Brave New World and Harry Potter

LM was quite active on the platform, frequently writing detailed reviews and sometimes even adding handwritten notes to his books.

Steam: Pep

Status: Still Up Joined: Oct 20, 2013 Last active: Jul 7, 2024

Steam is the most popular platform for purchasing games, and LM had been active on it for a long time. His last recorded activity was on July 7, 2024—exactly six months and 2 days before his arrest. The last game he played was PUBG.

Looking at his library, you can see the wide variety of games he played over 11 years since Oct 2013. One touching detail is that many of his friends still have him added, and one of them even changed their username to "FreeLuigi"—a clear sign of loyalty and support. That’s definitely a good friend.

LM also had an alt account added, but nothing noteworthy has been mentioned about this account.

The last games LM played are:

PUBG: BATTLEGROUNDS – last played on July 7, 2024 Orwell – last played on June 28, 2024 Spelunky 2 – last played on June 2, 2024

Tinder

Joined: Nov 27, 2021 Last active: Dec 18, 2022

Apparently, Luigi was only active on Tinder for a short time in December 2022, though his profile dates back to November 27, 2021. His love life is also a complete mystery, so it’s interesting that he even had a Tinder account. Shoutout to the person who spent 15 bucks to unlock the unique photos Luigi had here 🫶

Trello: @luigimangione

Status: Still Up Joined: Unknown Last active: Unknown

Trello is a platform designed to help teams organize their work. There isn’t much to see on LM’s account, but his profile picture is the protagonist of Spelunky—one of the games he has logged the most hours on in Steam.

Pinterest: luigimangione

Status: Still Up Joined: Unknown Last active: Unknown

There isn’t much to see here. LM only saved a hoodie, likely as a show of support for Tim Urban and his blog Wait But Why—one of the writers he was most enthusiastic about.

Spotify (Fake)

These Spotify profiles began circulating just hours after Luigi Mangione’s name became widely known. However, these profiles are fake and seem to be an attempt to link Luigi to various musical tastes—such as artists like Clairo, Charlie XCX, or Blackpink. If you’ve tried to research Luigi’s musical preferences, you’ll know that there’s very little information available. The only two songs we know Luigi listened to are from his SoundCloud account.

SoundCloud

Status: Still Up Joined: Unknown Last active: Unknown

This is where Luigi liked two EDM tracks that are not very well known. These are currently the only reference we have to LM’s musical tastes.

Chess: sexytwerker69

Status: Still Up Joined: Sep 19, 2017 Last active: Dec 22, 2023

This is one of my favorites. The nickname is quite original and gives us a glimpse into Luigi’s sense of humor. This profile was created in 2017, and the profile picture is a unique selfie of Luigi biting an apple—one of the few selfies he had taken. This confirms that the account is indeed his.

Other noteworthy details include that his last activity on the account was in 2023. Additionally, he had the Italian flag on his profile instead of the American flag, showcasing his pride in his Italian heritage—just in case that wasn’t clear enough.

Venmo

Status: Still Up

Venmo is a personal payment platform commonly used in the United States.

Activity on LM’s account is mostly from 2017, the year when Luigi was selling Christmas lights at his university. While we’re not entirely sure what he was raising money for, many of the payments made to and from him included some of the silly comments that showcased Luigi’s sense of humor.

DISQUS: @luigimangione

State: Still up Joined: Jun 20, 2017 Last active: Jun 20, 2017

LM's only activity here was commenting on a post from Wait But Why. The blog post was Neuralink and the Brain’s Magical Future. This was the only community he followed and his only interaction on the platform.

Sporcle: lnmangione

State: Still up Joined: Jan 23, 2024 Last active: Feb 4, 2024

Sporcle is a trivia and quiz platform where users can test their knowledge on various topics. LM had an account here, among the quizzes he completed were Most Visited Websites, Countries in Europe, SpongeBob Characters, Most Populous Countries, US States, Computer Hardware Parts, Programming Language Popularity, Genetics Vocabulary, Super Secure Bunker and Erase the Periodic Table.

Devpost: luigimangione

State: Still up

This is a platform where developers showcase and submit projects for hackathons. LM was active here during his university years, submitting a project for PennApps competition. Not much to see, but it gives a glimpse into his early coding days.

Other sites that seem to belong to Luigi are:

Apple Profile State: Still up A default profile linked to Apple services, not much to see here.

DockerHub State: Still up A platform for sharing and managing Docker containers, LM had no repositories here.

HackerRank State: Still up A coding challenge site; LM had no public activity or submissions here.

Medium State: Still up A blogging platform; no known posts from LM, but the account exists.

And that would be all the profiles I know of so far. As a small reward for making it to the end of this post, here’s a low-quality picture of Luigi showing off his perfect side profile 🙌

#luigi mangione

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heartysworld · 3 days ago

Text

Missing U // Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader

MASTERLIST

W.C: 2.3k

A/N: After reading Onyx Storm I keep getting random ideas and I couldn't pass on writing this one :)

Two weeks.

Two whole, agonizing weeks without Ridoc’s warmth beside you, without his ridiculous jokes at the worst possible moments, without his arms wrapped around you like a human furnace.

Your bed has never felt emptier.

Every night, you curl up beneath the covers, but it’s not the same. There’s no Ridoc grumbling about how you’re a blanket thief, no sleep-mumbled jokes about dragons snoring louder than Xaden, and no lazy morning kisses before the day drags you both into the chaos of Basgiath.

You miss the way he always, always found a way to touch you, even in sleep—an arm slung over your waist, his nose buried in your hair, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. Without him, the nights stretch unbearably long, and no amount of blankets can replace the warmth he brings.

So when Rhiannon and Violet tell you he’s back and has a surprise for you, you don’t think. You run.

The Vale is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wings and the deep, rumbling breaths of resting dragons. The air is crisp, carrying the familiar scent of smoke and earth. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation thrumming through your veins as your eyes scan the open space.

Then, you see him.

Ridoc stands beside Aotrom, his brown hair messier than usual—probably from the wind, or from running his hands through it nervously. He’s shifting from foot to foot, the way he always does when he’s excited but trying and failing to play it cool.

Your breath catches, and before you can call out his name, Aotrom lifts his head, lets out a soft huff, and shifts to the side—revealing something burned into the ground.

You blink. Then take a step closer.

I LOVE YO

You tilt your head. Something’s… missing.

Ridoc turns, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. “Y/N!” His entire body practically vibrates with energy, and before you can say anything, he gestures toward the ground with both hands. “Ta-da!”

Your gaze flicks back to the message. The last letter is definitely missing.

Slowly, you lift an eyebrow. “Ridoc,” you say, voice thick with amusement, “where’s the ‘U’?”

Ridoc freezes. “Wait, what?” He whips around, eyes scanning the scorched words. The moment he notices, he groans dramatically and drags a hand down his face. “Oh, come on!”

Aotrom lets out a very unbothered-sounding snort.

Ridoc turns on his dragon, hands on his hips. “Dude. You had one job.”

Aotrom flicks his tail, the picture of innocence.

You cross your arms, biting back a grin. “Ridoc,” you repeat, “why is there no ‘U’?”

Ridoc sighs, shooting Aotrom another look before turning back to you. “Okay, so technically the ‘U’ was there… but right as Aotrom was finishing it, he saw a sheep on one of the lower fields and, uh… immediately took off.”

Your jaw drops. “You’re telling me your dragon abandoned your romantic gesture for a sheep?”

Ridoc throws his hands up. “He really likes sheep, Y/N! I can’t control his cravings!”

Aotrom rumbles contentedly, as if to confirm this fact.

You press a hand to your mouth, but the laughter breaks free anyway. “Only you, Ridoc.”

Ridoc grins, clearly relieved you’re laughing instead of being upset. Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly produces a bouquet from behind his back. “Okay, so the message is a little… incomplete, but this survived.” He steps closer, pressing the flowers into your hands. “Happy anniversary, Y/N.”

Your fingers tighten around the bouquet, your heart swelling. “Happy anniversary, Ridoc.”

His usual playful smirk softens into something more sincere. “Gods, I missed you.” His voice drops slightly, and his eyes roam over your face like he’s memorizing every detail. “Sleeping alone is the worst. Do you know how many times I woke up reaching for you, only to grab a pillow?”

Your chest tightens. “I know,” you admit. “I kept waking up cold.”

Ridoc groans dramatically, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in. “That’s it, I’m never leaving again. Two weeks is way too long. I almost died, Y/N. Died.”

You snort, resting your head against his shoulder. “From what? Sheep deprivation?”

“Exactly!” he exclaims before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His voice drops to something softer, more serious. “I love you. Even if Aotrom forgot the ‘U.’”

You smile, reaching up to brush his messy hair from his face. “I got the message.”

Ridoc watches you for a beat, his expression shifting, turning softer, more intense. Then he cups your face, his palms warm and slightly rough from training. “Can I kiss you now?”

You laugh, but it comes out breathless. “I think you’re required to.”

He doesn’t waste a second.

Ridoc leans in, and the moment his lips press against yours, everything else fades away—the teasing, the missing letter, the two agonizing weeks apart. He kisses you slowly at first, like he’s savoring the

’s trying to make up for every second you spent apart. Then, as if he can’t help himself, he deepens it, tilting his head to fit his lips against yours more perfectly. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Your fingers tangle in his messy hair, and he lets out a quiet, contented sigh against your lips. The warmth of him, the way he tastes like fresh air and something undeniably Ridoc, makes your head spin.

When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his breath slightly uneven. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice full of wonder, “definitely never leaving for that long again.”

You smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “You better not.”

Ridoc sighs dramatically, pulling you into his chest again. “I suffered, Y/N. Two weeks without you? Pure agony.”

You laugh softly, letting yourself sink into him. “Oh, the horror.”

Ridoc grins. “You joke, but do you know how many times I woke up thinking you were there? Only to grab a pillow?” He shudders. “It was tragic.”

“I do know,” you admit, voice quieter now. “Because it was the same for me.”

His arms tighten around you, and for a moment, he just holds you, warm and solid and here.

Then, as if unable to help himself, he presses another kiss to your temple. “You’re not sleeping alone tonight.”

The certainty in his voice sends warmth curling through you.

“Good,” you murmur. “Because I was not looking forward to another cold bed.”

Ridoc hums, tugging you toward Aotrom. “Then let’s get out of here. I already suffered through two weeks without you—I’m not wasting another second.”

Aotrom lets out an exaggerated sigh, as if deeply inconvenienced by his rider’s affection. But even as he huffs dramatically, his tail flicks in amusement, his green eyes twinkling.

You glance at the scorched I LOVE YO on the ground one last time, shaking your head fondly. “Still can’t believe Aotrom abandoned romance for a sheep.”

Ridoc groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m gonna have to do something even bigger next year to make up for it.”

You smirk. “Well, you could start by actually spelling out the whole thing next time.”

Ridoc laughs, scooping you up onto Aotrom’s back before climbing up behind you. As his arms wrap securely around your waist, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, voice warm against your skin.

“Next time, I’ll make sure the whole kingdom knows just how much I love you.”

And as Aotrom takes off into the sky, the wind whipping through your hair and Ridoc’s laughter ringing in your ears, you know that no matter where life takes you, as long as you have him, you’ll never feel cold again.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fluff #fourth wing fandom #fourth wing fic #ridoc gamlyn #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc gamlyn fluff #ridoc gamlyn x y/n #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran x reader

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elgaladwen · 3 days ago

Text

I am not trying to fight with anyone here, because I know this is coming from a place of wanting to help with the current situation, but this is so silly that I have to say something. (And thank you to the people in the comments who note that this is also a common feature of Teams itself) I don't know all the details, so maybe I am missing something, but the way this is presented is seemingly just hearsay and fear-mongering over a normal business process. It's perfectly common in government (and I imagine in the private sector too) to be able to search through Teams chats, emails, or any other records (because yes, Teams chats are records) for keywords for legal and public disclosure, disciplinary actions, or a number of other reasons. As someone else in the comments also noted, they might have installed third party software to do this in a better or different way than Teams itself. (We use a third party program at work to search emails so that we can be more thorough than what's out of the box with Outlook, for example)

I guess this sounds weird if you've never worked for the government or for a big company who issues you a computer, but this is how it works. There isn't any expectation of privacy for anything said on work devices or though work channels. Usually it's less nefarious than this sounds, like you want to make sure you got everything for a public records request, or even just something like someone needs to look up something you talked about because they forgot, but it could also be to make sure you weren't doing something that you shouldn't. And I can't speak for every employee, but in my job, we are not allowed to talk about politics during work time, because we are supposed to represent all the people of my state and that silliness, so yeah, I could get in trouble for talking about Trump and Musk on work channels, and I can't imagine my state and agency is the only one like that.

Now yes, if some random dude is doing this separately from normal processes, that is bad. But this reads as if some employees only just realized that their computers can be monitored and searched. "Some federal employees say" and "some think" is not basis for fact. I'll try to see if I can figure out what, exactly, they're talking about, but regardless, i just want people to realize that this is a very common thing. There are many insane things Musk is doing that we can worry about, without adding red herrings.

Elon Musk's teenage hackers have inserted bots into the backend of the federal system so they can spy on government workers and sniff out any disloyalty to Felon47.

This is not only highly illegal but qualifies as an act of espionage and sedition.

Remember when First Felon accused Obama of spying on him through a microwave oven? Always a projection.

#Fear-mongering #trying to combat misinformation in what little way I can #us politics

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revelboo · 2 days ago

Note

I see that you have written for rumble, may I ask if you plan to do the same for frenzy if possible? (If you have I’m blind and didn’t see it- 😭)

Also I love how you write, there’s always so much detail!

-✨💜💫

Thank you! Rumble and Frenzy are sharing a human

Pretty much 🤣

Alcohol Eyes Pt 11

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Neck craning so you can see the human in the giant blue alien’s hand staring down at you in surprise, it’s actually a relief to see another human. Because they look okay, not like they’re being held against their will and terrified. And the one that looks like a clone of Thundercracker is still laughing. Making it apparent none of the other giant aliens had a clue what your two were up to. And the one they’d called boss is cuddling that other human to his face like they’re a little kitten he’s found. Do the big guys keep humans as pets then? Wait. What if your guys are young those guys? Paling, you really hope you didn’t just corrupt a couple of horny, alien teenagers.

• Hooking his arm around you, Rumble stands his ground as Soundwave just stares down at him. While cupping Starscream’s human to his face. What exactly had they missed? Because, sure, the boss had been a bit soft on the Seeker’s pet human, but this looks like something else entirely. “You look a bit busy, so we’ll circle back,” Rumble says, nudging you towards Soundwave’s quarters. Is the boss fragging Starscream’s human? Can’t be. The Seeker doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone. ‘You’re adults, right?’ You ask him and he almost misses a step. “Yeah. Why?”

• Offering Starscream one of your human hand gestures as he walks backwards after you and his brother, Frenzy grins when the Seeker abruptly stops Iaughing with a growl. “All in all, I think that went well.” Jogging to catch up and hook an arm around your other side as they walk away, Frenzy snickers when Thundercracker looks at the other two, back at him and just decides he’s done. Bending to set your stuff in the hallway and walking off with his hands thrown up. “Think our moving guy just quit.”

• “Why’d you ask if we’re adults? Don’t we act mature?” Rumbles asks as Frenzy hauls you closer to him with a laugh. ‘What did I just miss?’ Frenzy growls nipping at your neck and jaw as Rumble signals the door open. And you’re almost immediately set upon by Rumble and Frenzy sized alien animals. Talking alien animals. Apparently your guys have siblings. Or pets. A lot of them as you’re surrounded and they bombard Rumble and Frenzy in worried tones. And you’re realizing you need to start asking questions. So many questions. Because you really have no idea what you’ve agreed to by coming home with them.

• “Is the boss fragging Starscream’s human?” Rumbles asks Ravage. Hearing Lazerbeak laugh at that as his brother wings over to land on his shoulder startling you. And even Buzzsaw and Ratbat have come out of hiding even if Ratbat is quiet and sullen as always. Angry at the world. ‘Soundwave thinks we don’t know, but he’s not the only one keeping secrets, is he?’ Lazerbeak asks, head tipping to study you. ‘Secrets for secrets,’ Ravage adds, brushing against him and you, sharp denta bared.

#transformers x reader #rumble x reader #idw rumble #frenzy x reader #idw frenzy

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wingedhallows · 1 day ago

Note

hey!!!!! i wanted to request something a little light and cute and fluffy. my request is abby attempting to do your makeup bc she claims it’s “so easy” bc she’s seen you do your makeup routine so many times. your writing is just so impeccable 🤌🤌🤌 and fucking amazing just make it your own and add your own little details if you’d like. but you for sure have to add a scene where abby is just so focused and concentrated on not messing up bc she also claims she’s a “perfectionist.”

— TOO CONFIDENT FOR HER OWN GOOD —

— ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ pairing : abby anderson x reader / 1.8k words — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ plot: When Abby claims she can do makeup just as well as you—if not better—you decide to let her prove it. Confident as ever, she takes on the challenge… only to realize she might be in way over her head. What starts as a simple dare quickly spirals into a hilarious mess of streaky foundation, clumpy mascara, and one very questionable technique. But as the laughter fills the room, it becomes clear—this isn’t just about makeup. It’s about love, trust, and finding joy in the little moments, even when things go horribly wrong. — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ authors note: hi! i had so much fun writing this! i hope it's what you asked for and that you like it. send me more requests, this was such fun :)

♡︎ navigation ♡︎

“What’s that for?” Abby nods toward the headband you’ve just slipped on, her brows raised in curiosity. There’s a knowing glint in your eyes as you catch her gaze, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. She’s far too confident for her own good.

“To keep my hair out of my face,” you reply, voice laced with amusement. The answer is obvious, but you can’t resist playing along.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I knew that,” she grumbles, and you can tell—just by the slight crease in her brow—that she’s a little embarrassed.

You settle onto the bed in front of her, your makeup spread out between you like an artist’s palette waiting to be used. The thing is, Abby had boldly claimed she could do your makeup just as well as you—if not better—because she had watched you do it sooo many times.

But you know your girlfriend. Abby is stubborn, maybe a little too self-assured at times, and you couldn’t resist challenging her. You dared her to put her skills to the test, and now here you are—your face bare, waiting to be transformed, while Abby sits across from you, staring down at the array of products as if they were some kind of ancient puzzle she suddenly regrets trying to solve.

“Just start with the base,” you encourage, trying to stifle a laugh. Your voice is light, teasing, but you can’t help the warmth in your tone.

She huffs, determined, even as uncertainty flickers in her eyes. She has no idea what she’s doing—but she won’t back down now.

And honestly, you wouldn’t want her to.

You point toward a beige bottle—foundation. “Start with that.”

You don’t offer any more guidance, and you know she won’t ask. Abby is far too proud to read the label, too stubborn to admit she has no idea what she’s doing.

She just nods, feigning confidence as she picks up the bottle. Then her hand hovers over the array of brushes, her fingers ghosting over them uncertainly. For the first time, her eyes flicker to yours, a silent question lingering there.

You bite back a smile and give her a small nod—yes, that’s the right brush. She grabs it, her expression shifting back to one of determination.

But then, to your horror, she squeezes a few drops of foundation directly onto the brush.

Your eyebrows lift slightly. The brush? Jesus…

But you don’t say a word. You just watch. Let her figure it out.

Abby leans in, one hand settling firmly on your thigh. She’d probably claim it’s for balance, but you know better. This is just an excuse to touch you—Abby never misses an opportunity.

You hold still as she begins dabbing the brush against your cheeks, stroking it over your skin in broad, uneven swipes. The pressure is uneven, the strokes unpolished, and you know it’s going to leave streaks.

But you don’t comment.

Not yet, at least.

You feel the brush glide over your cheeks, your chin, your nose—she’s covering all the necessary spots. Well, almost all. She’ll get my forehead too, right?

…Yeah, no.

She moves on, completely skipping over it, leaving your forehead a bare, foundation-less island in the middle of an otherwise blended sea. Great.

You catch the subtle twitch of her brow, a tiny crack in her overconfidence, as if a thought finally nudges its way into her head: This doesn’t look quite right.

You take a slow, deep breath. Good Lord, help us.

Abby sets the brush and foundation down, her expression hardening in concentration. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, grinding so hard you half expect steam to puff out of her ears.

You bite your lip, trying—really trying—not to laugh. But she catches the amusement dancing in your eyes and immediately shoots you a glare.

“Shut up,” she hisses, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

A soft chuckle slips past your lips. “I didn’t even say anything.”

She scowls, picking up the concealer bottle with newfound determination. “Yeah, well, I can practically hear you taunting me in here.” She taps her finger against your forehead pointedly.

That does it—you laugh, reaching up to tangle your fingers with hers. “I would never taunt you, my sweet, lovely girlfriend.”

She rolls her eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck.

Then, without hesitation, she dabs a little concealer under your eyes. You wait for her to grab the brush you always use for blending, but instead, she goes rogue.

With her fingers.

Her damn fingers.

You fight the urge to cringe as she smears the concealer across your skin, rubbing it in like she’s applying sunscreen at the beach.

At this point, you’re sure you’ll end up looking nothing short of a full-blown circus clown. But honestly? Watching Abby wrestle with makeup like it’s an enemy she refuses to lose to?

Totally worth it.

"Alright... the eye thing now," Abby mutters to herself, squinting at the array of makeup products like they might suddenly arrange themselves into a tutorial.

You cock an eyebrow, amused. "Eye thing—do you mean lashes, love?"

Her gaze flickers to yours, and instantly, her expression sours. It’s the same look she gives when she spots a spider and desperately needs you to deal with it.

"Absolutely not." She scoffs, shaking her head as she wipes her fingers on a makeup wipe—because, somehow, you're still processing the fact that she applied your concealer with her damn fingers.

"So... mascara?" you ask, tilting your head.

"Ah, yeah—mascara." She nods with confidence and reaches for a tube... except, it’s not mascara.

"Baby, that’s lash glue."

Her head snaps toward you, eyes widening, and a faint blush creeps over the apples of her cheeks. That’s what not reading labels gets her.

"I knew that," she huffs, clearly flustered. "I was just... checking." Her voice dips lower, as if embarrassment alone might make her invisible.

She hurriedly sets the lash glue down, this time taking a moment to actually read the labels before picking up the right tube. Small victories.

Abby unscrews the mascara, but as she leans in, she hesitates. In her head, this is a high-risk operation. One wrong move, and she’s convinced she’ll be the reason you go blind.

She exhales slowly, steadying herself, but her shoulders remain tense. Meanwhile, you simply smile at her, soft and encouraging, before tilting your chin up and looking at the ceiling—your silent way of saying, You got this, baby.

Abby swallows, carefully bringing the wand to your lashes, holding her breath as if that alone will keep her hands from shaking. She moves with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb, praying she won’t stab you in the eye.

And honestly? You’re praying too.

Somehow—miraculously—Abby manages to apply the mascara without stabbing you in the eye, and you silently thank every god who might be listening.

She sets the tube down with a sense of finality, then suddenly—

“All done.”

You blink. Slowly.

…All done?

You take a second to process this. No powder, no eyeliner, no blush—nothing but foundation (patchy), concealer (questionable), and mascara (a crime against lashes). You’re sure you look like a half-finished painting.

But then, you see it. The flicker of uncertainty in her expression. The way her confidence wavers just slightly before she schools her features. She knows.

She clears her throat, her gaze darting away from yours like she can avoid the inevitable.

“I… guess you were right,” she admits, her voice quieter, tinged with reluctant defeat.

Your chest tightens a little because, honestly? Seeing her like this—actually admitting she might not be great at something—is worse than whatever mess is currently on your face.

“I did a shitty job.” She exhales, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, her throat bobbing as she swallows.

You offer her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Then, before she can react, you get to your feet and move toward the vanity.

Instant regret.

Her body tenses, alarm flashing in her eyes. No, no, no—abort mission! But before she can launch herself across the room and physically stop you, before she can wrap her arms around your waist and haul you away from the mirror—

It’s too late.

You’re already staring at your reflection.

And oh. Oh, God.

Abby stands slightly behind you, her heart pounding so hard she swears it might just leap straight out of her chest.

Your foundation? Streaky. The concealer? Blotchy, with distinct smudges where her fingertips had worked it in like a moisturizer. The mascara? So thick and clumpy it looks like it’s actively plotting your downfall.

And the worst part? The tiny smudges in the corners of your eyes, where the mascara shouldn’t be.

It’s bad.

It’s really bad.

You meet Abby’s gaze in the mirror. She looks… devastated.

And despite everything, despite looking like a sleep-deprived ghost, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“I… umh… it’s not that bad.” You try—really try—not to laugh.

Abby stands behind you like a statue, her expression frozen somewhere between dread and sheer embarrassment. You can feel her panic radiating off her, but the moment your eyes flicker back to your reflection, the sheer horror of it nearly sends you over the edge.

The foundation is streaky, the concealer is uneven, and the mascara—dear God—is clumpy enough to make you look like you just survived a hurricane. You press your lips together, struggling, desperately trying to hold it in.

Then—

“It’s horrible,” Abby mutters, voice thick with shame.

And that’s it. That’s what breaks the dam.

Laughter bursts out of you, sharp and sudden, your body doubling over as you grip the vanity for support. It’s not even just a giggle—it’s full-blown, stomach-clenching, can’t-breathe laughter.

Abby watches you, stiff at first, but then—when she realizes you’re not laughing at her, but at yourself, at the ridiculousness of it all—her embarrassment melts away.

She cracks.

Then she cackles.

And suddenly, the two of you are howling like a couple of grandmas at bingo night, gasping for air between fits of laughter.

“I look like a damn ghost!” you wheeze between gasps, gesturing wildly at your reflection.

Abby’s laughing so hard she has to clutch her stomach, her whole body shaking as she bends over like some dad at a backyard barbecue. “I tried my best!” she chokes out, her voice barely holding together.

It takes a solid minute before the laughter dies down, leaving both of you breathless. You brace yourself against the vanity, wiping at your eyes as you finally catch your breath.

“If you ever claim to be better at my stuff again, I swear I’m kicking your ass,” you say, grinning at her through the mirror. The sheer sight of your disaster of a face has Abby giggling all over again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she heads back toward the bed—

But not before landing a solid smack to your ass.

The sharp slap echoes through the room, and you yelp, whipping around with wide eyes.

Abby just smirks. “That’s for laughing at me.”

The mischievous smirk she throws over her shoulder is all you see before she flops onto the mattress, absolutely pleased with herself.

#abby anderson #abby x you #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #the last of us part 2 #tlou abby #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson imagine #abby fluff #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfic #abby fanfic #abby anderson x reader

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angelltheninth · 1 day ago

Note

How would star wars character relax their S/O?

A Star Wars request, lets go! Miss writing for this fandom.

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Ben "Kylo Ren" Solo, Rey, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin, Sabine Wren, Shin Hati x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, relaxation, cuddles, kissing, literal sleeping together

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Feel particularly sleepy today. The weather sucks. I need cuddles from my favorite characters.

ANAKIN

Pulls you into bed with him and doesn't let you do anything work related for the rest of the day. Don't even think about anything work related when you're spending time with him, he is your beacon for a stress-free zone. He kisses your forehead while you cuddle, his hands pressing into your tense muscles. Considers it a great achievement when you fall asleep in his arms like that.

LUKE

Invites you to a meditation session with him. Might sounds silly but it really helps relax both the mind and the body, clear your thoughts, let go off all the stressful things of the day. His hands reach for yours, constantly rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands to help you relax further. If you can't relax he will talk you through it, giving you his words of affection to focus on.

BEN

Oh he is not the best at relaxing, in fact he might be one of the worst people in the galaxy for that. But if there's anything he can be proud of is that he really does try to help you de-stress. It's a little aggressive still, he wants to be close to you, give you a few little kisses but passion soon takes over. And while that can help you relax in certain ways you'd much prefer a simple cuddle session.

REY

You tell her she should take care of herself as much as she's taking care of you. This confuses how her. How will this help you relax? Well, if she isn't freaking out about you all the time and how much she has to work to give you the things you want then you would both be able to relax together, which would also mean more quality time spent together.

LEIA

Tells you to get as comfortable as you can be because she's gonna give you the best massage you've ever had in your life. She hadn't given many but she did get a lot of massages growing up. It's the perks of being royalty and she's confident she can help you relax the same way. She goes a little too hard on the knots in your shoulders but eventually she does hear you sigh in relief.

HAN

Will take your mind off anything stressful by telling about the latest heist offer he got. Yeah, the job is pretty reckless, but it sounds fun. He won't really go on this specific heist mind you, the pay is too low for someone of his caliber, but he's telling you how it could go, making you laugh by doing so. Making you laugh is all the reward he needs at the end of the day.

OBI-WAN

Has a whole relaxing evening planned out perfectly by the time you get home, no detail will escape him. It's almost too perfectly planned, so much so that he puts all that pressure on himself but hopes his charming smile is enough to distract from that. Won't put that pressure on you, he only wants you to relax and let him do things for you for a change. You deserve to relax after a long day of work.

DIN

The man is a great listener and cuddler and he will use both of those skill sets to help you unwind. Whatever you need to say to get things off your chest you can say it to him, and he will do his best to take care of the problem. Not necessary by going in and taking care of the problem personally, but just offering advice. But if his personal intervention is necessary he will go in and clean up the mess.

SABINE

Latches onto you whenever she can. She acts like she's a sponge that will absorb all of your stress, she will soak it up and help it melt away. Every time she notices you're feeling stressed, or pent up or sad there's a hug waiting for you, big or small it hardly matters to her how long you want her to hug you. It's important that you know she's there for you whenever you need her.

SHIN

Isn't good at giving advice or dealing with stress. She's not someone who considers herself a stressed person so the feeling is unfamiliar to her, she doesn't know how to help you. That being said she will at least listen, really listen to what you have to say and the reasons why you're stressed. At the end all she can offer you is her closeness, her presence there, but even that is enough.

#star wars x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x reader #ben solo x reader #rey x reader #leia organa x reader #han solo x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #din djarin x reader #sabine wren x reader #shin hati x reader #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #star wars fluff #x reader

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lily-sofii · 11 hours ago

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Caleb taking your things Headcanon's 🍎

Tw (?): Caleb smelling used panties, stealing your things without you knowing, masturbating with an article of clothing (the more unhinged part is under the hearts), and Caleb being pervy and delusional. Also, first time writing for him, so don't kill me pls (I didn't even finish his story yet)

• Lately you have noticed more and more of your things going missing. At the start you simply wrote it off as having misplaced them, who hasn't misplaced a pair of panties or a shirt? As more and more things go missing, the more suspicious get, but of course, you grew suspicious of everything and everyone, except the perpetrator.

• Upon his first visit at your place, after such a long time that he hasn't seen you, he immediately knew where everything was from memory. He knew where every room and every detail was. The first time, he didn't take anything, he simply soaked in every little detail to make sure next time he was around, he'd be able to take what he wanted without being noticed.

• Every time he came to your house, more and more items went missing. You have never managed to connect the dots.

• He kept coming to your place with the intention of taking more of your things, progressively taking more and more, yet you didn't even think to blame him for the things going missing. You have mentioned it to him on many occasions, and have been whining to him about needing to buy the things that have gone missing.

• It may have been out of guilt, but when you complained once again, he suggested going shopping together, buying you anything and everything you wanted. (Wether it's a thing that went missing, that you needed replaced or simply something that caught your eye)

• The first thing he stole was an old sleeping shirt of yours, that you haven't used in a long time. He didn't exactly know what he was going to do with it, since he knew it wasn't going to fit him, but he knew he needed it all for himself.

• The more stuff he took, the bolder he bacame with his pickings of what to steal from you. Sure, the first thing he took might have been an unused shirt, but lately, he has been taking your panties that you just used out of the hamper along with some shirts you wear often.

• Why? Because it still had your scent on it. Wether it be sweat or your perfume, he will enjoy it.

• No matter how many times you whine about your things going missing, he won't return them. In his mind, he tried convincing himself that he took your things to feel closer to you, to feel as if you were with him at all times. Lately, it has been a struggle to make himself believe it.

• Maybe if the only thing he did was keep your shirt as a pillowcase, he'd be able to convince himself it was because if he smelled you, he'd feel calmer to slumber. He'd feel closer to you. If the only thing he did with a pillow he stole from you was to hug it to sleep, he could say, it was because it felt like, if you were with him, hugging you closer to him, your scent enveloping him.

• But that was simply not the case. At least, not anymore.

• One day he went into your bathroom with the excuse of needing to use the toilet, but as always, he simply wanted to take another article of clothing that you threw in the hamper. Picking up a shirt, he put it in his backpack without you noticing.

• Upon coming home with his new prized possession he threw the shirt on his bed, putting on his payjams before crawling into bed. Just then does he lay out the shirt, noticing the used panties that were tangled in it.

• He looks down at the panties in surprise, reaching for them, considering just tossing them aside. But... when else would he get the chance to touch your used panties? To smell them? It's not like he was bold enough to simply take them.

• He grabs the used pair of your underwear and presses it to his nose, inhaling deeply. He knows it's disgusting, but it's as if his body was operating on it's own.

• Caleb grunts as he sniffs the underwear, his tongue licking it. He bucks his hips subconsciously up against his pants, his cock growing hard by the second.

• Pushing the shirt aside he reached for his pants, yaking them off, putting the panties in his hand, moving to touch his aching cock with them. And oh god, did it feel heavenly.

• There were many occasions where he was jerking off with the thought of you, maybe keeping a shirt of yours near to sniff it, but this time was diffrent. This time, he was using your things to jerk off.

• His groans get louder at just the thought of you knowing what he's doing, the thought that you'd be disgusted by him. He squeezes his cock with the hand holding your underwear, the cotton becoming drenched in his precum.

• With each stroke a wet squelch is echoing across his room, a loud groan following soon after. Caleb moves his thighs back against his hand, throwing his head back in pleasure, your name lingering on his lips

• Every so often he calls out your name, his cock twitching as he comes closer and closer to his climax, the panties sticking to his cock with how much precum is on it by now.

• With a few more fast strokes Caleb bites into his hand to muffle his loud groans, cumming on the panties and his toned stomach, his breathing quick and uneven.

• He tries his best to calm his breathing as he lays down In his bed, making a mental note to take more of your used panties, along with cleaning his cum drenched ones. (Even though he enjoys the thought of you wearing panties filled with his cum)

#caleb x reader #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x you #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace headcanon

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hestzhyen · 2 days ago

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"Geniuses" in Kagurabachi

We have three different kinds of "geniuses" in the series so far. It's causing some bullshit buzz about "talent" overriding hard work too, sadly. Each character has a different take on the concept, so let's take a short look since I'm going to have this in my notes anyway...

Chihiro

Type: Mimicry

The chapter that added Chihiro to a dozen bad faith "Talent vs. Hard Work" comparison charts.

All these takes about Chihiro having "natural talent" that doesn't require him to work hard to master fighting drive me nuts. At best he's got a significant leg up thanks to all the time he spent with his dad in the forge, nothing to do with whacking dummies and seeing Samura do a clean slice once.

Once again: Chihiro is not using some secret super special ability to copy Samura and neither was Kunishige when he was forging the Enchanted Blades. Both the father and son have a natural talent for observing minute details others miss, and both used it on a near-daily basis for many years.

It's the kind of skill that can apply to many different situations outside of where it was used most (forging blades in their case). So yeah, Chihiro's good at picking things up after seeing them once. But that doesn't mean he's suddenly competent at the skills he's copying. He still needs to train to hold his own against people with experience!

But oh yeah. Chihiro did train. He even eschewed resting to get that training, and after all that he's still not confident in his skill. He knows he's still got a long way to go.

Not a guy who's suddenly mastered the blade.

Also, if Uruha hadn't given Chihiro a primer on how the style worked (dumping spirit energy into "kata" [型 basically, a proper "form"]), he probably wouldn't have been able to actually to the Iai move in the first place. So the type of genius that Chihiro has is "mimicry" if anything. He notices everything he needs to start using someone else's technique if they explain the esoteric bits and can start to practice it.

If Chihiro really was naturally adept at swordfighting instead of applying this mimicry ability to it, he'd be a lot more like a certain someone who fully relies on intuition. But he's just a smart guy using a talent he cultivated for about a decade on becoming a better fighter. Still a genius, but not in a way that erases his need to work hard for mastery.

Hakuri

Type: Rare Gift

He IS the special boy after all!

Hakuri is pretty straightforward. He's an incredibly rare talent who was born with the ability to use two different kinds of sorcery in a world where most people can only use one. The first of his kind in his family since the Sazanami Patriarch started the clan over 200 years ago, and the first one Shiba's ever seen.

The storehouse sorcery in particular seems to be special due to it's "heretical" nature (which we still don't have context on). It's so rare that it gets passed down from Patriarch to Patriarch through a ritual instead of through natural inheritance like Isou, and did not reappear once until Hakuri was born.

But he's not at all overpowered after going from zero to hero...

Poor guy.

Much like Chihiro, just because Hakuri has unlocked his potential doesn't mean he's suddenly going to solo everyone he fights. He's pushed himself much too far after his ascension and now might lose his sorcery forever. This probably won't happen for many narrative reasons, but he's still very much out of commission for the foreseeable future.

His capacity limitations will probably be around to keep him in check even as he trains. We still have a lot to learn about how Hakuri's unique situation is handled in terms of allocating his power, but he's quite limited right now- especially when using the storehouse powers. Connecting to the subspace is what taxes him the most (Kyora did remark that it's "incredibly diffcult" to do) so we probably won't see him teleporting things around and dropping anvils on folks between Isou blasts any time soon. Would be rad as hell though.

He's also got to get used to combat. He had four years of foundational training that all Sazanamis get to circulate sorcery within their bodies, but Hakuri's far more used to being a punching bag than actually holding his own in a fight. He's not a total beginner but he's still got a lot to learn most likely. At least he's already used to pain and bloody violence thanks to his family...?

I love him so much, please let him come back to the story soon.

But anyway. Hakuri, the boy with a Rare Gift. Once he gets back in the story and learns how to use them, he'll be quite the formidable sorcerer.

Hiruhiko

Type: Natural Talent

And then there's THIS guy.

Anyone who wants to complain about "talent vs. hard work" needs to take a look at Hiruhiko and start shoving him in those stupid charts instead of Chihiro. This guy was a top-class sorcerer and is now going to learn how to fight with a sword through instinct. Seriously, this is the type of "genius" that so many people complain about most of the time- he picks up a sword and a few swings later he's beating a master of a style that was passed down for 150 years. Head empty, no training, just pure intuition.

And the worst part is, John's free-wheeling approach to Hiruhiko's growth is working. His precious little boy is actually figuring things out by feel like he said he would and will now challenge Chihiro, someone who's using a proper form and style with some practice under his belt... and in all likelihood win or force a draw.

Her fears were unfounded.

I get not wanting to have extended training arcs -appreciate it even- but if this type of genius was given to make Hiruhiko more hateable then good job on the author's part. I'm not really one to complain about geniuses who figure things out on their own through trial and error (I'd have a hard time being an anime/manga fan if I was) but Hiruhiko could stand to be humbled again. Please let him lose his arms again or something.

He's the newest so we've still got more to see from him and how far his improvised techniques will take him. For now though he seems poised to be Chihiro's equal in sword combat already. Fucker.

This page turn gnaws at my brain almost as much as Chihiro and Hakuri sharing snacks and Chihiro wanting to be Hakuri's samurai does.

Anyway, those are Kagurabachi's three geniuses who are supposed to be "equals" through different methods. One swordsman, one sorcerer, one sorcerer turned swordsman. Two 18 year-olds and one 17 year-old. Two who need to work hard despite their talents, one who can just do whatever wants. Two steeped in violence practically from birth and one who chose it later. All killers before their 18th birthdays. All gifted in different ways so we can skip extended training arcs.

#kagurabachi #chihiro rokuhira #hakuri sazanami #hiruhiko #As if I needed more reasons to dislike that pink frog-faced menace

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controlcontrol · 2 days ago

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Tonight is race night!

This is a project for the entire community of Starlight Express role play blogs of Tumblr! Every character is welcome to participates, including doubles, any production, and OCs!

Here is how this will work:

Please read carefully before joining the community!

A community will be made for this tournament, joining is necessary to sign up.

Pairing is necessary- specially between an engine character and a carriage character (a carriage can be freight, coach, component, etc.)

When you join the community, there will be a post in which you submit your pairing- one engine and one coach (posted through your rp account) stating the character’s names, their @‘s, which production they are from or whether they are an oc, as well as if they are an engine or a coach.

In this community, there will be a post meant for finding a racing partner- but it is very much encouraged to roleplay these interactions out outside of the community beforehand! Please ensure that both parties are agreeing to partner up before one of them submits a pairing.

Depending on how many sign up, the first round of races will consist of groups of 3 or 4 pairs. There will be one winner of each race, and those winners will be split into groups of 3 or 4 pairs for the next round of races. So on and so forth, until a winner is declared.

A community post will be made offering different dates for each race in the first round, which pairs can determine which would work best for their schedules and sign up for the best date. It is not necessary to be attentive all day during the race, as long as you respond at least every 3 hours. If you fail to respond to a turn notification within an hour, your turn will be skipped. When the groups for each race in the first round of races are declared, the participants will be @‘d in a post on the Control account both inside and outside of the community.

When a race begins, all participants will be @‘d in a post in the community and a separate post on the Control account. Do not reblog with an action until what the action is, who does it, and the order is sorted out inside the community. Under the post inside the community, details including whose turn is first will be added to the post under which actions will be sorted. The engine of the first pairing will describe what it is they want to do in a reply under that post- ex. “Greaseball pushes Golden Eagle aside to get in front of him.” Control will roll a dice to determine if the action succeeds, fails, or if nothing happens. This will be determined with the roll of a 20-sided die. 1-7 means a fail, meaning the action somehow backfires and sets the racer back a place. Ex: In response, Control would reply with the action, “Fail! Greaseball trips while trying to push Golden Eagle.” 8-12 means nothing happens. Control would reply with, “Nothing happens! Greaseball misses.” In this case, the racer would maintain their previous order. 13-20 means a success, in which Control would reply with, “Success! Greaseball pushes Golden Eagle to the ground.” A successful action against another participant can knock a competitor down a place, but would not push the racer taking the action up a place. If the action is not taken against another racer (ex: “Greaseball takes a shortcut”) can boost the racer up a place if successful. Offensive actions can only be taken against other racers either directly in front of or behind the train taking the action (during the first round of turns, this doesn’t apply). Yes you can start fights! A fight will lower the places of both parties, but the loser (determined by a coin flip) will be knocked out of the race.

The carriages take an action too, and can either support their engine (ex: Dinah knocks into Golden Eagle) or to sabotage their engine (ex: Dinah brakes to slow Greaseball down). These work the same as engine turns, but are taken after the other partner.

Be creative with your actions! Inspiration points can be awarded if your action is particularly interesting, giving the racer advantage on the next turn (an extra dice roll). Yes, powers or skills specific to a character can be utilized. If you are unsure about whether you can take an action, don’t be afraid to ask.

When the outcome of an action is determined in the community post, the racer playing the action will move to reblog the race announcement post on the Control account describing what happened. The train taking the first action will reblog the original post, then their carriage will reblog from the first engine’s action when their own action is determined, the next engine will repost from the last carriage’s repost, so on and so forth.

There will be a total of 4 rounds of turns from each pair, and the final placement will determine the winner of that race. The winner of each race in the first round of races will move on to the next round.

Please let me know if you have any questions! This is a lot of information, so please let me know if you don’t understand.

Please reblog to spread the word!

Here is the community:

Race time minus one minute! Race time minus one minute!

#stex rp #starlight express rp #stex roleplay #starlight express roleplay #roleplay account

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queermasculine · 38 minutes ago

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do you have any workout tips? i literally have no idea what i’m doing, should i be joining a gym or working out at home ? what’s important to work on specifically?

i don't wanna embarrass myself by trying to tell you what parts of your body to work on when i don't really know what i'm doing either (everybody's different and just googling how to get the type of muscle you want where you want it will probably yield more accurate info than what i can give you) but i will say that the key for me personally has been to just be a serious realist about what kind of exercises i'll actually be able to do with any kind of consistency

i think a lot of people make the mistake of looking up a guide that says something like "do these moves 20 times a day, every other day" and when they can't get to 20 or can't do it every other day they're like fuck i failed and give up. when a more helpful strategy when you're starting out is to 1.) find exercises that are comfortable for you to do, offering a bit of challenge but not so much that they're immediately exhausting, 2.) count how many times you can do those exercises until you're like "okay this burns too bad / i'm fucking bored", and then just 3.) try to beat your own record a couple of times a week. doesn't even have to be the same days every week, semi-consistency is enough in my experience (if you're not trying to be a pro athlete)

this approach has been more helpful for me than trying to follow a detailed routine full of goals set by someone who never even met me. also helps to know that missing a week doesn't mean my previous progress went anywhere & i can pick things up again anytime i want. a gym membership helps some people stay motivated but personally i find it easier to start a sesh when i know i'm doing it at home

#hope this is of any use to you good luck homie #mail

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shefightslikeagirl · 2 days ago

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Stages Through the Ages - Part II

An Asylum History post by @shefightslikeagirl

Go back...

2008: The Asylum Grows

The Plague Tour kicked off in Spring of 2008. The stage design didn't change much, but it did evolve. More props, new costumes, and new set dressings started to appear. The concerts were drawing more people and, notably, two concerts were professionally filmed for a never-to-be-released DVD.

Two new pieces of scenic debuted this tour, the most notable of the two being an "Asylum Clock." It was a handmade clock that hung centerstage, equipped with black-and-white drapery and forever pointing at 4 o'clock. Depending on the venue, it was either flown (hung from the catwalks/lighting rafters) or hung up on the back wall. Occasionally, if there truly wasn't any room, it would end up on floor.

Nachtelben, 2008

Bristol, 2008

The second piece of scenic was a familiar one: a second shadowscreen! This was the only tour where there were two screens on stage, both of them adorned with a crown of gears and clocks. You can see two screens and a flown clock in the video below, from the La Locomotive show in Paris.

youtube

The "full" stage set up from The Plague Tour was, by far, the most complicated stage EA ever had. A full setup consisted of two shadowscreens, a flown clock, the keyboard drapery and props, a props table with chairs, fabric all over the stage, and a space for Joo Hee and her cello. This was probably best shown at the (filmed) Islington concert.

youtube

Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of great recordings or photos of the full setup. However, there are some great shots of the stage details--including the shadowscreen topper--from EA's book readings at Wave Gotik Treffen.

WGT, 2008

2008: Keep Calm and Carry On

The Gate Tour was next. Now, if you were in the fandom at the time, you might remember some of the drama that surrounded this tour: Vecona leaving, EA's relationship with Trisol imploding, Joo Hee dropping off the face of the earth, and so on. There was a lot of change happening in the Asylum, but the show aesthetic staged largely the same.

The first half of The Gate didn't see many changes. Some scenic was given a facelift, including the keyboard, which was redesigned with a red-and-white drape. But everything still felt the same, even with Vecona gone.

Utrecht, 2008

We went back to having only one shadowscreen, which moved centerstage instead of being off to the side. (I have a sinking suspicion that this one may be larger than on other tours, but that could just be because the photos are better...)

Utrecht, 2008

EA had a handful of dates in North America during this tour, which was her first time performing outside of Europe since 2006. Because her set was mostly small items, fabrics, and easy-to-travel props, her stage remained largely the same. It appears they didn't travel with the shadowscreen, as it was missing from the New York and Ontario dates.

2009: Gears and Glitter

In 2009, the Gate II Tour began and our first significant design change took place. The fabric shadowscreen was replaced with a new version: a gear-lined, industrial themed shadowscreen (v2). It stood centerstage and acted as the focal point for the set, with everything else set up around it.

youtube

For those of you who might not know, this was a true upgrade. EA went from a handmade, pop-up screen to professional scrim. I can only assume that it was mounted to an aluminum frame, which would have kept better tension. The gears and decorative facing to hide the frame would have been made by EA (and friends).

In addition to the new clock, some empty antique-looking frames were suspended from the rig and both new and old props were scattered about the stage. But! A new icon debuted:

Wheelie!

Amsterdam, 2009

Allegedly inspired by the wheelchair from Wicked, Wheelie became a permanent fixture in EA's concerts all the way through 2014. She would be redesigned and replaced a few times, but she always returned.

EA was still touring almost exclusively in Europe, but after she split with Trisol, all that would change...

2009-2010: Tick Tock

After a significant amount of drama surrounding two cancelled North American dates, EA announced a brand new North American tour: The Key. The stage design changed again, this time pulling back a little on the number of props and small items onstage.

Emilie and Basil prepping for tour, Twitter, 2009

The biggest change was the combination of two different set pieces: the Asylum Clock and the shadowscreen.

Introducing: The Asylum Clock.

It was v3 of the shadowscreen, thematically taking the place of the clock that had once hung over the stage. It appeared in two different forms: the full face, which you see above, and what I'll call the skeletal version, below.

Brooklyn, 2009

This is a beefy set of truss, which EA loved to climb on when it was in its skeletal form.

youtube

In addition, the keyboard was given new drapery and the stage props were "neatly" placed on some new tea tables. An antique frame or a lamp-post chandelier might get hung up if the venue allowed. Wheelie lost some of its gears and jewels, which can be seen a bit farther down in this post.

Pomona, 2009

For EA's one-off Mexico date, the set was scaled back slightly.

Mexico City, 2009

Not much changed with this design through early 2010. Between the North American leg of The Key Tour and the European leg, the keyboard drapes changed again and the skeletal version of The Asylum Clock became the go-to.

Effenaar, 2010

When EA traveled to South America during The Door Tour in 2010, the set was stripped down entirely. There were no set dressings and no decorative frame for the shadowscreen, likely as a cost-saving measure. The focus was on the costumes, whatever stunt equipment they brought, and the few props they could shove in their bags.

youtube

2011: The End of an Era

The Door Tour was the last Opheliac tour. Again, as had become the trend between tours, the stage was scaled back. Most props were cleared away and it was rare to see anything hung from the rafters. Gone were the hand-painted gears and numbers from The Asylum Clock. It's newest iteration (v4) was a simple screen-printed truss cover, with a few props hung near the top.

Los Angeles, 2011

The keyboard decorations were massively simplified. Gone were the heaps of props, replaced with some electric candles ontop of a screen-printed Asylum logo. The props for the tea tables were scaled back, though that never stopped Maggot from spitting tea on the audience. The lack of aesthetic clutter didn't take away from the show, exactly, but it did detract from the vibe.

There's more to say and a few tours to left to talk about, but I'm running out of image space.

Part 3, anyone?

#emilie autumn #photos #concert #live #asylum history post #stage #theater #2008 #2009 #2010 #2011 #Youtube

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deejadabbles · 3 days ago

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Hello, friends. I know it's been a while. I've been meaning to make and post this for forever. Below I'll go into a bit more detail about what's been going on, but the tldr is basically: Life has dealt me some not great hands this past year, and during that time I lost my muse for the fandom.

I wanted to let everyone who followed my works know that I will no longer be updating my fics. At least not for the foreseeable future. My brain likes to cycle through fandoms, so I might cycle back around (its happened before!), but for now at least, I probably won't be writing/posting anything.

Thank you to everyone who read my fics and continue to read them, you mean the world to me and I'll still be around if you ever want to chat 💙

tag list: @sev-on-kamino (@returnofthepineapple ) @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @wizardofrozz

There's a bit more detail about personal stuff under the cut, but you absolutely do not have to read if you don't have the spoon to <3

So, I won't go into graphic detail, but over the last year I had several life upheavals. Including losing my job, my mother falling ill, and several other deeply personal things. Thankfully, my loved ones and I are managing, and for that, I'm thankful.

I've been struggling with my mental health during all of this, too, and I don't think I realized just how bad it was until I saw how poorly my physical health had gotten as well. I'm currently taking steps to better both my mental and physical health, so don't worry <3

In fact, taking some of those steps this week is what really made me realize that I probably won't be writing for the Star Wars fandom for awhile. It looks like my rolodex brain is choosing to fixate on comics again right now lol (BTW I do have a comic themed side blog if anyone wants to follow it)

I'll still be around on this blog, of course. SW is and always will be a huge part of my life, I just wont be interacting with fanfiction on the same level. Not to mention that I've met so many wonderful people I've come to cherish in this fandom, I'm still just a message away if you ever want to chat! I've missed you guys a lot over this last year

Thank you, if you've read this far. I won't lie and say I'm doing okay (especially with the state of america right now) but I'm at least surviving and trying to get better. If anyone else want to come chat and catch up, please feel free to. In the mean time, keep fighting and ily💙

#deeja rambles #personal

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 21 hours ago

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I'd love to request something then 🥰. A David & Dwayne x fem!reader. She lives alone in Santa Carla after escaping her family and she has a hard time adjusting, bc she's introvert and insecure about herself (chubby, scars due to abusive and SH past etc etc). The boys are attracted to, her darkness if that makes sense (I hope it's fine!!). The boys wanna take her it with them, & David & Dwayne eventually realizing she's their mate? (fluff is fine, even a bit more if you're fine with that!)

I hope you like this! After finishing this, I realise I kind of strayed away from your prompt, but I hope you'll still enjoy it!💜

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The room was quiet. Dark. Cold. I sighed as I turned around in my bed, pulling the blankets over me again. Tomorrow I'd really have to call the water company and the electrician. I had bought this place on a whim, needing to have something to call my own, and I hadn't paid any attention to the details mentioned in the listing.

I wish I had now, now that I felt like my toes were freezing off. Still, I thought as I curled up in myself, it was still not as bad as it was before.

It was hours later when I woke up, the sun high in the sky already. I sighed, grabbing a warm sweater and some thick socks to keep myself warm. I quickly brushed my teeth, deciding to ignore breakfast until after I made the necessary phone calls. I took a deep breath as I walked to the landline, thankful that that one was, in fact, working. Silently, I repeated the rehearsed frases in my head.

"Hi, do I speak with the company? I need some help, because the thing isn't working in my new house."

It would be something like that, I figured. Nothing too complicated. Just two easy sentences. I could do this. I picked up the phone, dialling the number for the watercompany. It rang.

Once. Twice.

Please leave a message after -

Frustrated, I dropped the horn on its hook, redialing the number. This time, I had more luck getting an answer.

"Yeah?"

"You're the watercompany, right?" I asked, my voice more unsure than I would have liked.

"Yeah."

"My house isn't connected, it seems. Can that like - maybe, I don't know, ehm - be fixed? I mean," I laughed, although it was more out of awkwardness and despair than out of actual joy, "I'd really like to have some water here."

"Yeah."

I sighed, giving more of my information. All the guy on the phone said was yeah, as if he had never learnt to speak another word whatsoever. Still, I had been told that someone would be by this afternoon. I then rang the electrician, who was way more pleasant on the phone. He was in the area, offering to come by within the hour.

I'd agreed readily.

The electrician, Henry, a man who reminded me of my late grandfather, was done quickly. It had been a matter of some cables not connecting well, and now I was the proud owner of a house with a working light bulb. Small victories, and all that.

"So, what made you decide to move to the murder capital of the world?"

"I needed a fresh start - wait, did you say murder capital?" I asked with a frown as I walked him to the door.

He nodded. "Lots of people end up missing or dead. We don't know why, but it happens. Hence the name."

"Crap... that's why the house was so cheep."

"Maybe," the man chuckled, "but despite there being some truths to the disappearances, I doubt you'd be in any danger. You don't seem like a party animal to me."

I nodded. "So, as long as I stay clear from parties I'd be fine?"

"Most likely, yeah. Anyways, don't stress about it too much. You're young, go to the boardwalk some time, and enjoy yourself."

He had been gone for less than ten minutes, or some guy from the watercompany rang the doorbell, and went to work without saying much to me.

It was hours later when he was done, but I had water. And electricity. I could cook, shower, bathe - I sighed as I let myself fall on the couch, I was too tired to do any of those things. There had been too many people today, and I just needed some desperate alone time just for me. I was really thankful now that I'd bought some frozen pizzas on my way here, and as I turned the oven on, I couldn't help but wonder if moving here, leaving home and all it's miseries behind, if it was worth it.

"Someone moved into the old Emerson place," Paul stated as he entered the cave. He had a plastic bag in his hand, and couple of boxes with Chinese filling it.

"So?" David looked at him.

"Just thought you should know," he shrugged. It didn't matter much, but every since that night, a couple of years ago, they avoided that area of town as much as they could.

"As long as they don't go digging in the backyard, we have nothing to worry about, " Dwayne shrugged.

"She doesn't seem the type."

"You stayed long enough to stalk her?" Marko chuckled, shaking his head.

Paul threw a carton box towards him, grinning as it hit his head. "Nope, I just don't think that this quiet thing would go outside."

I woke up late the next day. I had only been here for a few days, and I had not once woken up before noon. Before, I always awoke around six thirty, doing my chores and other things that needed to be done. Never, not ever, had I been able to sleep in. So why was I able to now?

Was it because I finally had a place of my own? I finally experienced freedom? Or was i getting sick?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath as I got up. Today, I needed to make a trip to the boardwalk. I needed some paints for my rooms, and maybe it would be good for me to actually leave the house for once. Not that I necessarily liked the idea, but I also knew that interacting with others would be good. If only for a little while.

I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I picked some loose-fitting clothing, warm enough for the autumn breeze that was blowing coldly over Santa Carla. I pulled on some black leather boots, brushing my hair quickly as I decided to forgo any makeup for today. This wasn't going to be a long trip.

It was nearing sunset as I entered the boardwalk, the place more crowded than I would have liked. People were everywhere, pushing and moving, tugging others along. I had no choice but to let myself drift along with the crowd, slowly making my way away from the stream when I saw a small hardware store located near what seemed to be a videostore.

I was thankful to no longer be stuck in the crowd and pushed the door to the store open, right into someone's face. I froze, staring wide-eyed at the man in front of me. He was tall, an almost scary look on his face as he looked at me, his brunet hair falling down his face.

"I- I am so sorry, I didn't-"

He looked at me, causing me to feel flustered. He truly was rather handsome. Too handsome for me, I knew that. But still, one can dream, right?

"It's fine," he said, his voice deeper than I'd expected. I looked after him as he left, shaking my head slightly as I tried to remove his image from my brain. I quickly picked some paints - a dark blue and ocher yellow, a colourmatch I'd loved for ages - and paid for them. I left the store, walking down the boardwalk to the entrance.

It was getting busier and I just wanted to go home. I walked further, the plastic bag with paint cans in my hands as I heard the rumbling engine of a motorcycle behind me.

"You need a ride?"

I looked up and saw that it was the guy I'd run into in the hardware store.

"It's alright," I said quietly, not sure if he heard me.

"You sure? There are not too many houses around here, and it's not a good idea to be out alone in the dark."

I shook my head, remembering how former classmates repeatedly reassured me that I didn't have to worry about that because kidnappers and rapists would pick someone prettier. Assholes that they were. I sighed, looking at the guy.

"Why would you offer me a ride?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Besides, it's already getting late, and I imagine you'd rather be home before morning."

I looked at my watch and realised he was right. "Thank you," I said gratefully as I got on the back of his bike with his assistance. I introduced myself, but he didn't respond with his name. Instead he drove off, straight to my home.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked him confused as I got off.

"This was the only house for sale in the last couple of weeks. And since you're new-"

"Am I that obvious?"

"No," he gave me a small smile, "we just come down to the boardwalk almost daily. We know everyone's faces, just not yours. Not yet."

"Maybe you will," I said quietly, quietly wondering what it was that made me say this. As if I'd ever go back to the boardwalk while it was so busy at night.

"I'll see you around, love," he said, stepping back on his bike.

"Wait, what's you're name?"

"I'm Dwayne."

With that he drove off.

"And?" David looked at Dwayne as he entered the cave last.

"She's sweet. Harmless." He couldn't help but grin. "There's something about her."

"Yeah?"

"She's not just another run away. There's something more. Like she's seen things that she shouldn't have."

David nodded. "You think it is her?"

Dwayne thought about it. For days, the two of them had felt the pull of a third and final mate bond. The bond was forming quickly and steadily, and soon, they'd be able to follow their gut feeling towards their mate. But for now? Dwayne nodded.

"She seemed more level-headed than us, but I am quite certain she can live like we do."

"Maybe I'll meet her tomorrow," David shrugged, standing up. "If i come to the same conclusion as you, we'll need to make her ours."

I groaned as I opened my fridge. All day, I had been working on painting my room, forgetting the necessity of making a trip to the grocery store. Now it was night, I had yet to eat dinner, and all I had in my fridge was an old bottle of coke.

"Guess I'll go to the boardwalk..." I mumbled, taking my paint spattered clothes of and quickly changing into something clean. I didn't stop to look in the mirror before I went, a thing I would regret later on, I'm certain. At that moment, it didn't matter. I needed food, and the only place I was going to get that at this hour was the boardwalk.

It took me about an hour to get there, and I had just enough luck on my side that the Chinese place was still open and serving as I entered. I greeted the owner, placed my order, and sat down on a bench, waiting for my order to be called.

"So you've been painting all day, hm?" I looked up, seeing two men in front of me. Dwayne and some other guy.

"How did you know?" I frowned slightly.

"You've got a blue streak on your cheek."

I tried to stand up to go to the bathroom to clean myself up, but found myself unable to do so as the guy went to sit down next to me. I shoved over a bit, feeling just the slightest hint uncomfortable.

"How do you like Santa Carla?"

"I don't know, it's okay, I guess?" I shrugged.

"You haven't had a chance to see it?" Dwayne asked. I shook my head.

"I've got a lot to do at home, and-" I shook my head. It didn't matter.

"And what?" The other guy, who had yet to introduce himself, looked at me.

"I just don't like crowds," I decided quickly before asking his name.

"David," he said, "and what if we can over you Santa Carla without the crowds?"

"Good luck with that," I muttered, sceptical. As if that was ever going to happen.

"No, you'll see," Dwayne chuckled, "David's right. How about we pick you up tomorrow and show you around?"

I was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "What time?"

"Ten. Things will have quieted down here."

Time passed quickly, and as I woke up the next afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder why i had agreed to this date. I had liked the conversation we'd had, sure. But to go on a date? Later that evening, David had even explicitly called it that, and I hadn't even corrected him. And then a date with the two of them?

I didn't mind that, truly, they were both incredibly handsome and as far as I could tell with how little I know them, kind and somewhat sweet - but still. It was a bit, odd, wasn't it?

The rest of the day, I worked on decorating my house, making sure I was ready to go by ten. I'd opted to wear a dress, liking the way it flowed around my legs. Despite the warmth of the evening, I decided to wear a black cardigan on top, completing my outfit.

"Damn," Dwayne grinned as he saw me, causing me to smile shyly. David stood behind him, waiting on his bike.

"You look nice," he said as he offered me a seat. I got on behind him, and we made our way to the boardwalk.

Just as he had promised, like they'd both promised, the boardwalk was practically empty tonight. I didn't know how they'd done it, but it felt incredible. No crowds to drown in, no people pulling you one way when you wanted to go another... I let the two of them guide me over the boardwalk, taking me on rides. We talked about everything, from favourite colours to deepest fears, from hobbies to pet peeves - it was incredible to get to know them, to see them and to let them get to know me.

Even though I had only known Dwayne for three days and David for two, I felt like I had known them all my life, like they were a missing piece of the puzzle I called myself.

As they said goodbye when it was close to sunrise, I couldn't help but melt in their arms as they both pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

Yeah, I decided quietly. This was it.

In the days that followed, I kept hanging out with them. They'd stop by sometime during the night, taking me to the boardwalk whenever most of the crowds had left. I had met their friends, Paul and Marko, and I had a hard time admitting to myself that I actually enjoyed their company.

I had known them for a month when they took me to their place, this strange yet almost magical cave. It was there that they told me what they were.

I hadn't known what to do, so I hadn't done anything. It was a horrifying thought, but then again, a part of me truly loved them. A part of me couldn't live without them. So, despite refusing to drink and become one of them, I did accept them.

It just took me a day or two. Three.

But once I did accept it, our bond grew only stronger. No longer could I imagine not spending the night with them. No longer could I stand the thought of not seeing them. I stayed over at their place, sleeping between them almost as often as they stayed at mine. We talked, more deeply than before, them answering as honest as they could when I asked them about their immortality.

It was then, five weeks after I learnt what they were, three months after I met them, that i decided to become like them. I was theirs, and I couldn't live with the thought of letting them wake up one day without me. Nor did I want to wake up without them.

So, when David offered once again, I drank, sealing my fate as their mate.

#the lost boys #tlb #marko #david #paul #the lost boys 1987 #dwayne #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader

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trollhunted · 2 days ago

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Oh boy, now that I'm done with the rewatch it's time to air out some of the grievances I have with the writing choices made regarding the antagonists...

Starting off a little more positive – Merlin's portrayal worked fairly well overall as this arrogant manipulative old jerk of a wizard, who may have noble goals but achieves them via not so honorable methods in the name of the greater good.

It was a pretty good bait-and-switch with the way the show had built up this image of the mysterious and benevolent mage, but left enough hints to his true character via little details that quickly turn sour in hindsight once you've actually met him. He's not a villain, but they did make him a decent morally gray character in the few episodes he's around.

However, I think he should've been held more accountable for his actions and behavior, especially when his grand plan doesn't work out because he was too wrapped up in his own head to see the truth.

That leads me to Morgana, the big evil "mastermind" of the show. I have to say, I love how utterly unhinged they made her in the first half of season 3, though she loses some of that by the end of it. I don't really have many complaints about her as a villain, but rather like to nitpick aspects surrounding her character and some missed potential.

Design-wise I find her a little lackluster as someone called "the Eldritch Queen" and while it definitely was a fun idea to contrast Merlin's dark armor with all that gold, I believe they missed the mark a little. They should've gone a step further and contrasted the design even more by giving it a creepy and organic direction. Her "armor" could've been more insectoid and reminiscent of bones or dead wood.

Also, a small thing that always bothers me are the green accents on her, when that was being established as Merlin's color. It does connect them visually in a way, but mostly just feels out of place to me. Now, about that missed potential...

As a queen of shadows, I would've liked if they'd played up her insidious nature a little more. As Claire, instead of immediately trying (and badly failing) to kill the Trollhunter, they should've dragged out the possession a little. She could've used this position to destroy the team from within, test their limits, tear them apart to weaken their will, only to have it all backfire with how much they trust and care for each other. It would've paralleled Angor's approach, because considering his background, he must've picked up these methods from someone, no?

Another writing point that bothers me is her imprisonment. No matter how you look at it, sealing an ancient evil sorceress inside (or even near) the heartstone – a MAJOR source of pure energy – just sounds like an all around bad idea. Wouldn't it make sense for her to feed on that energy? And even if not that, shouldn't you be worried about her corrupting it??

I get that from an animation standpoint it's an extremely convenient way to have everything happening in one place, so you don't actually have to set up so many new assets, but man... it's just kind of stupid lol.

Honestly the way I would've rationalized this whole deal is: instead of having her sealed up in Arcadia Oaks, California of all places (why did they even end up there?) she could've been imprisoned within the previous Trollmarket in europe. Her and Gunmar have tried to bring about the Eternal Night before and almost succeeded, which led to the battle of Killahead, where both were sealed away.

Imagine Gunmar and his forces had taken the old Trollmarket and used its heartstone for that spell, draining it in the process. Although they were stopped and defeated, Trollmarket was destroyed and their rock of sustenance dead, which would prompt the trolls to leave and seek a new home across the globe.

Merlin could've trapped Morgana in the empty heartstone as a way to contain her powers, using the last of his magic. Maybe the reason he was so sure she would be weak and easy to vanquish after her imprisonment is because he had intended to slowly syphon her energy to empower himself and never considered that she would figure out how to reverse the spell to drain him instead.

And to add some flavor to this location, Morgana's presence could've twisted the old Trollmarket into something eery and barely recognizable, giving others reason to avoid this place. It could've served to show the heroes what may become of their beloved Trollmarket if Gunmar wins, given them more incentive to fight for what they have.

That's just an idea though.

Angor Rot was always a big pot of missed potential to me and his return in season 3 just ended up feeling, well, hollow lol. He was introduced as a great antagonist but in my honest opinion kinda fell off the moment they destroyed his soul and just turned him into an angry beast. Besides the overall bad taste it leaves behind, we really didn't need a Bular 2. And it's a little annoying they somewhat continued with that direction even when he was revived and supposedly got his soul back.

I like that they cared enough to dig a little into his conflicting emotions given his history & enslavement, but these moments should've been brought up in the climax of the first season. He should've regained his soul back then and suddenly be forced to reconcile with the atrocities committed in the name of his mistress. His revenge on Strickler should've conflicted with his newly regained conscience...

And, oh man, Strickler is a bit of an annoying case. It's kind of absurd to me that they would choose to give this man an easy "redemption" while tossing around Angor's corpse like that.

Angor Rot literally had his soul and autonomy taken from him and while these actions definitely twisted him throughout the ages, at the end of the day it was never his choice. Strickler was in a somewhat similar situation as a changeling made to serve Gunmar, but the major difference is that he did have a choice. Multiple even.

Even in his predicament, Angor chose to offer the Trollhunter a deal to free both of them of Strickler's control. Whether he actually would've honored that deal is hard to say, but I think even if he'd betrayed Jim's trust, it would've made for a good opportunity to speak of who he used to be and what he's become, and have his first real choice in centuries be to spare them.

Strickler on the other hand is far more vile and self-serving at his core. At first you could argue that it's mostly the (very real) threat of Bular breathing down his neck that pushes him to harm Jim despite his soft spot for the kid. But when both Bular and Gunmar are out of the picture, instead of using this freedom constructively, he doubles down on killing the Trollhunter while finding every opportunity to get under his skin.

This man literally chooses to continue beefing with a teenager and don't get me wrong, I love it. Comedy aside, it is genuinely a fun exploration of his character and what makes him work as a complex personal antagonist. But the fun quickly stops when they try to rush him into a lackluster "redemption arc" to get him on the main team.

I'm aware that tons of people love the stricklake pairing and "lady x monster man" is very much a del Toro staple, but I really don't think Strickler should've been "redeemed" given everything he did, there should've been FAR more serious repercussions. It would've made more sense to me to put him in a "reluctant, not entirely trustworthy, sort-of-ally" position than suddenly have him be one of the Good Guys because... romance?

Not to mention the quality of their writing and characterization took quite a dip to mend their relationship and make said last minute romance happen. The drama surrounding it was cheesed up to such a degree it felt like they were putting on a play and didn't tell anyone.

Nomura's turnaround makes perfect sense narratively speaking because she was a straight-forward, impersonal antagonist, who only began to sympathize with the enemy when they were forced into the same position and she had nothing left to lose. She probably gave Jim a few nightmares, but the Lakes don't have anywhere near the number of reasons to hate her as they should with Strickler.

Oh and on the topic of changelings, let's get to the Janus Order. In my honest opinion, I think the Order was an overall waste. What made the changelings fun to me was precisely how they jumped between playing human and the cruel brutality of their monstrous nature. They weren't really a blend of these two worlds, but rather just putting on an act.

That's what made examples like Strickler, Nomura, and NotEnrique emotionally toeing the line of what it means to be human so interesting. Because they aren't human, but have learned to love the world they live in. And it's also what would've made Jim's transformation so strange/special, because he actually would've embodied joining those worlds.

The Janus Order both visually and narratively throws a wrench into that for no reason. (And don't get me started on the whole "evil, politically powerful organization secretly controlling the world" deal..........)

The way I could actually see a point to that direction, is if it had been a relatively inconsequential side-plot where the Janus Order is more like a small-scale cult of humans or even low-grade sorcerers worshipping the Pale Lady. It could've been a one or two episode issue that would've mainly served to build up some lore & foreshadowing surrounding Morgana, before she would've made her big entrance in the third season.

Ah... and even Gunmar could've been handled much better in the later seasons. Bular isn't a perfect character, but he serves his purpose as the introductory villain fairly well and for a kids show like that, it's a sensible execution.

Gunmar's character started out very strong – as the presumed endboss, they combined Bular's intimidation factor and Strickler's conniving nature with him and added some class as a millennia old monster warlord. It works fantastically. While that image falls a little here and there, his portrayal in the Darklands still makes sense as someone who seemingly lost all hope and resigned himself to his eternal prison... and even then he displayed a malicious sort of patience by wanting to break Jim's spirit instead of simply killing him.

So for that to quickly turn into an impatient old man, who just barks out threats and orders and blindly follows whatever anyone tells him the moment he's on the surface... it, well, is pretty disappointing. It's understandable for Bular, the younger and less experienced son, to be rash and impatient, but a warlord? That's a position that requires a ton of patience and tactical prowess.

I really wish they would've kept the way he was presented in the first season and give us this big villain who's not only physically scary, but observational and dedicated enough to send Chompsky back with a message saying he'll kill all those Jim holds dear for killing his son and then listing literally everyone the kid knows.

Plus, his origin as some kind of actual monster born from a corrupted heartstone should've been explored! They could've gone into that endless hunger he apparently displays, that would've made him consume countless living creatures and even drain the magic energy out of crystals...

Instead we ended up with Bular 2 again, but even worse somehow, and it just made Gunmar about as threatening as a parked truck.

#sigh. there's more that could be said about some of the lesser antagonists like usurna & co. but most of those are fine for their roles tbh #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa merlin #toa morgana #angor rot #walter strickler #zelda nomura #gunmar #[spongebob stopping falling truck meme] these are just my personal thoughts!!!!! it's fine if you disagree!!!!!!!!!!!#entries

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