#don't mind me i just like going through this stuff methodically

[galedekarios]

musing on the rooms of the companions

i didn't want to put it in my main post since none of it is confirmed, but here's my take on it:

emmrich's room:

the statue echoes the one of the grand necropolis

the incense burners & lamps mirror the one he had in the trailer

the myriad of skulls in the shelves at the back

the many vials and potion bottles that he's also pictured with in his concept art

2. neve's room

the teal pops of colour just like in her outfits

the very tevinter style of architecture + aesthetic

tevinter heraldry (dragon) on decor / lamps

the huge crime investigation cork board behind the desk complete with several pieces of thread connecting maps and clues and sketches of people

prosthetic leg at the left hand side near the sideboard

3. davrin's room

grey warden crest

dark spawn statue

a plethora of swords and shields

4. bellara's room

same head of a statue as in her concept art

magical / elvhen artefacts + spheres

colour scheme choes her outfit

lots of triangles hanging from the ceiling, which have been part of her design nearly everywhere from her earrings to her armour

appears to have one of the halla statues you can collect at the winter palace in inquisition

5. taash's room

lots of dragon trophies / statues / paraphernalia from horns to sketches to wooden statues, v fitting for a dragon hunter

what surprises me is the amount of nug statues

lots of scrolls, maybe contracts or tallies/debts

6. harding's room

harding was described as a "romantic" and as someone who "loves nature"

rooms reflects that with lots of plants, a open water pool, lots of warm and natural light

has an outdoors feel to it, fitting for a former scout

which leaves...

7. lucanis's "room"

i assume it's a pantry? or a storeroom for food?

there doesn't seem to be anything personal here at all, which is perhaps fitting for someone who is both described as an assassin and as a workaholic, but it still surprised me to see just how barren his living space is, with no trace of himself seemingly, apart from a nondescript cot set up in the back

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[talaok]

Keeping up

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You convince Joel to go on a hike with you, but being that he's 56 years of age, he gets home barely in one piece, which means he needs a massage, which may lead to something more...

Warnings: age gap (reader's 25 and Joel's 56), a lot of sexually allusive jokes and stuff, and very soft and fluffy smut (unprotected p in v sex)

"Keep up, Grandpa!" you called, turning around and catching him taking yet another break.

He had his knee popped to the side and his hands on his waist as he pretended to take in the view while really just trying to calm his heavy breathing

He had fallen behind a while ago, but kept insisting you continued at your pace.

It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to go hiking with you, some unconventional, but definitely effective methods of persuasion were used, and finally, this morning, you had managed to make him cave in.

It was only a two-hour hike, but he was acting like he'd been walking for ten days and nights with no food and water.

"I'm coming!" his voice sounded through the woods.

"You sure?" You couldn't help but grin, watching his chest rising and falling way too quickly

"I just need a moment"

Letting out a breathy smile, you retraced your steps on the makeshift track to reach his side.

"Tired?" you asked, already knowing the real answer, and the one he was gonna give you.

"Nope" he lied, making you chuckle.

He was so predictable

"Ah" you hummed, mocking him "so you're choosing to walk ten steps behind me"

He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief

"Well, I don't mind the view these leggings of yours are giving me..." he arched a brow as his hands reached for your ass through the fabric.

"perv" you smirked

"Yup, that's me" he nodded, bringing you in for a kiss.

He could never get enough of you.

He had no idea how he had managed to make you fall in love with him, and so he acted accordingly, kissing and touching you every chance he got in case one day he was gonna wake up and this turned out to be just a dream.

"at least you admit it" you joked, biting his bottom lip playfully.

Oh how he fucking loved you

"C'mon now, we're almost there" You smiled that stunning smile of yours that made him almost forget how tired he was.

"You said that an hour ago too, angel" he reminded you

"I did, didn't I?" you smirked, starting up the hill again, and leaving him behind to wonder how the hell he had ended up there.

But then of course he knew... his ability to say no to you seemed to disappear every time his cock was in your mouth.

__ __ __

"goddamnit sweetheart" he groaned, laying on the bed face down.

He didn't bother to change into his clothes simply because he couldn't, the towel around his waist was gonna have to do.

By the look of it, your advice of "A hot shower will help you out" hadn't really worked.

"Poor baby" you cooed, setting your book down on the nightstand to pay attention to him.

"I'm never hiking with you again" he sighed "I'm hurting everywhere"

"I'm sorry" You stifled a smile at his pained expression "Here," you said, getting an idea "How 'bout a massage?"

"Mh that does sound good" he considered

"Yeah?" you asked, getting on your knees beside him

"Yeah darlin'"

You smiled, as you gingerly straddled his hips, not wanting to hurt him.

You rubbed your hands together to make them hot and then gently pressed them against the very top of his broad back, slowly starting to make your way to his shoulders to rub his pain away.

He groaned in pleasure beneath you

"fuck that feels good" he breathed once you applied more pressure.

You chuckled "I've heard that one before"

"Mh, I'm sure you have, angel" he grinned, closing his eyes as you took such good care of him.

You smiled as you started massaging his lower back too, drawing circles with your thumbs and relaxing his muscles one at a time.

"You're really good at this sugar," he spoke, as his hand found your right leg and started caressing it slowly to try and pay you back a little bit.

"Why thank you" Your lips pulled into a smile "I'm a woman of many talents you know?" you murmured sultrily, bending down to gently press a kiss to his neck.

"I know that very well, darlin'"

"Good" you nodded, finishing up his back "Now turn around"

"Yes ma'am" he obeyed immidately once you got off of him, just to climb back immediately once his back was on the mattress.

His heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the sight above him.

You looked so fucking sexy drowning in that shirt of his, and the fact that he was pretty sure you only had a pair of panties underneath it, only made it worst for him.

You didn't seem to notice the way he was practically eating you up with his eyes as you started massaging his chest.

God those hands of yours deserved their special place in heaven

He watched you biting your lips to concentrate as your fingers made all his pain disappear for just a moment.

Suddenly, he noticed a smirk splitting your face as you looked up at him.

"I see somebody isn't as tired as you" You raised an eyebrow before gently rubbing your core against his growing bulge.

"oh fuck" Joel breathed heavily 

"Sweetheart..." he murmured pleadingly as you did it again

"What?" you teased

"Trust me I'd love to fuck you right now, but I'm afraid that if I move one single muscle I'll have to go to the emergency room"

The chuckle that left your throat sounded more like angels singing to Joel.

"Who says you have to move a muscle?" you asked mischievously, as your hand slowly reached for the towel around his waist, undoing it in one swift move.

"Oh darlin'" he grinned lazily, "I'll never know what I did to deserve you"

You laughed softly at how happy he looked, before getting rid of his towel and taking his cock in your hand.

He was throbbing already

You stroked him a few times before you let your fingers find your panties and quickly pulled them to the side.

You wasted no time sinking down onto his length.

Giving him this massage had worked you up just as much as him.

his groans merged with your moans at the motion

"f-fuck" you muttered

No matter how many times you had sex with him, your pussy never really got used to the stretch.

"goddamnit darlin', you feel so good" he breathed

You smiled down at him before deciding to take off your shirt.

You didn't want it to get all sweaty...

He groaned even louder at the sight.

Your perfect tits bare before him, your perfect cunt hugging his cock so well, your perfect mouth parted as you sucked in ragged breaths, and then finally your perfect blown-out pupils staring down at him like he was the most handsome man on earth.

You were a fucking vision.

"fucking christ angel-" he growled as you started moving up and down his shaft "Look at you" he whispered, not able to stop his hands once they reached for your waist "How are you this fucking perfect?"

You just let out a breathy chuckle, continuing to bounce on his cock.

God, it felt good.

He always managed to hit that spot inside of you that made you feel better than anything else.

Your nails clawed at his chest, no doubt leaving some scratches, not that he minded... he loved when you marked him up.

Suddenly, you sped up your movements, making him tighten his hold on you

"Jesus Christ sugar" he groaned "How do you still have any energy left?" 

I mean every muscle of his had given up even trying, while you... well while you still had the energy to ride him like a damn pornstar.

And he would have liked to say this was the first time something like this had happened, but the truth was that the difference of age between him and you had made itself heard more times than he liked to admit.

He wasn't a teenager anymore, his back wasn't the same, his stamina wasn't the same, and you... Well, you were the exact opposite.

You were unstoppable, and fuck but you were insatiable

Before you, Joel got laid maybe once every six months, and now he found himself having sex at least twice a day.

Not that he was complaining obviously, it's just that he sometimes still wondered how the fuck you managed to pull it off.

"That's what being 25 will do to ya" You smiled, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck

"Mhh" he hummed, as one of his hands reached upwards to grab your tits "You're saying I'm old?" 

The soft sound of your laugh tickled his ear 

"I'm saying I'm young" you answered, rubbing your nose against his beard until his mouth was right in front of yours and all you needed to do was kiss him.

One of your hands had to grab at his shoulders as you felt your orgasm approach.

"oh fuck baby" you breathed, ghosting his mouth

"you coming?" he asked, watching as you shut your eyes, lost in pleasure.

"mh-mh" you managed to nod, before you hid your face in the crook of his neck and bit down onto whatever piece of skin you could reach.

"That's a good girl" he praised as his left hand found your butt and gave it a good squeeze "Give it to me angel" he urged

And without another word, you did, squeezing him and making him come just as you were coming down your own climax.

If he had to be honest he had been close since you had taken off your shirt.

"mhhh" you hummed satisfied, as you leaned away a little to look at him.

His lips looked way too delicious, so for good measure, you met them with yours for a brief moment.

"goddamnit sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days" he smiled, gently stroking your sides

"Yeah..." a mischievous smirk erupted from your lips "and that day might be today"

"What are you talking about?"

You grinned

"Ready for round two cowboy?" 

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[thecutepoison]

This is very speculative, but I'm suspecting Kipperlily is using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids and if I'm right I might have figured how she got found out by the rogue teacher!

First, let me explain my paranoid thoughts about the spying. Since ep 3, we are aware that Kipperlily is hearing their conversations, even if we don't know for sure the extent of it. She, just like Riz, must have a crazy stealth modifier + reliable talent, however I don't think she's relying only on that.

So, there's a scene in ep 4 when the Bad Kids roll for perception to spot Kipperlily. Kristen casts See Invisibility and Fabian rolls a nat 20. Brennan describes, only to Fabian, that although he doesn't see Kipperlily, he feels the "twinge of some kind of sense". Very creepy. That implies that she's there but cannot be seen. She could be invisible, however I don't think that's the case because an invisible person could still be perceived through hearing or touch. Also, Kristen would have been able to see her because of the spell.

With that in mind, the paranoid goblin that lives inside my brain is convinced that she's using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids. The Border Ethereal is perfect for infiltration and spywork, since you pass through physical objects and watch everything in the material plane without ppl there perceiving you. There are a couple of ways to access the Ethereal Plane, with spells or items, but I have no ideia abt the specific method she might be using.

Her being in the ethereal plane explains why Fabian, with his nat 20, didn't notice any physical indicatives of Kipperlily but still felt a presence, like some sixth sense. Now, Adaine did use her Third Eye so she could see into the Ethereal Plane within 60 feet and still saw nothing. But that doesn't mean that Kipperlily isn't there since there's a very easy way to circumvent Adaine: Non detection. This is a third level spell that hides the target from divination magic - for 8 hours they "can’t be targeted by any divination magic or perceived through magical scrying sensors". The Rat Grinders, long time haters of the Bad Kids, are for sure aware that Adaine is a divination wizard, they would be fools to spy on the party without casting Non Detection first. She's the motherfucking elven oracle!

Okay, now about the rogue teacher. In ep 3, Siobhan theorizes the rogue professor is the ghost teacher. I think she's absolutely right! We know most teachers of Aguefort and even if the ghost one was among those we havent seen, the Bad Kids would probably have heard about them if they were teaching something like ranger class. It's plausible that the reason for the party having no ideia who they are and not even passing by them in the halls is that the ghost is the rogue professor. After all, no one knows who the hell they are, it's the whole point of their teaching method. And for a ghost it would be really easy to go undetected since they can travel through the Ethereal Plane, beside the insane stealth.

Indulge my conspiracy theories for a minute. Rogue professor = Ghost Teacher and Kipperlily can wander in the Ethereal Plane, the plane of ghosts. Even with the advantage of being on the same plane as the teacher, it would still be a nightmare to find them since they are a pro rogue. In fact, Kipperlily didn't achive that: the rogue teacher found her.

But how did she manage to have the professor find her? I'm sure it wasn't an accident, she's too calculating for that. So, I started thinking about what would I do in her place and came up with the stupidest ideia. It's utterly ridiculous. But it could totally work and the strategy seems kinda Kipperlily's style.

Remember the Ghost Steak? The one Fig tried to eat when she invaded the teacher's lounge in season one? It's the ghost teacher's lunch, and Brennan reestablished its existence in ep 3 when Adaine used Ethereal Sight, explaining that the school wards are porous enough to allow ethereal travel and other stuff.

So if I was Kipperlily, my dumbass plan would go as follows: invade the teacher's lounge through the ethereal plane and hide inside the fridge. It wouldn't be a problem for me since I'm intangible and can pass through stuff, plus the other professors wouldn't see me even if they opened the fridge. Inside, I wait as long as needed, until the Rogue/Ghost Teacher gets hungry. They finally open the fridge to grab their snack, only to find me looking at them from inside the fridge like a lunatic. Mission complete: got found by the rogue teacher and aced junior year!

It's so mundane and stupid and that makes me more convinced that's exactly what happened. It's too funny to not be true.

[amazinglyspicy]

PIRATE SAFELY!! But pirate ;)

Hello! I’ve gotten a flood of new followers thanks to an addition I made about NOT torrenting from the Pirate Bay, so I want to address it better.

If you’ve come to check my blog for more piracy resources, advice, guides, etc, then check out some of the links in this pinned!

First and Foremost, Do not do Anything without an adblocker. Ublock Origin is the best.

Resources/Wikis: 🌟Top recommendation is the Free Media Heck Yeah Wiki, frequently updated, maintained, and transparent, as well as has a welcoming community behind it if you have questions. The rest are for redundancy's sake and for anything not found in FMHY, though most Wikis on this topic tend to repeat the same info. 🌟

VPN Comparison Chart - General Rule of Thumb, DO NOT use any VPN recommended by Youtubers, influencers, or any other shill with a profit motive. Large marketing budget does not equal good privacy practices. Do your own research.

-Since both Mullvad VPN and IVPN are planned to now suspend port forwarding support, the next best choices for torrenting though a VPN seem to be AirVPN and ProtonVPN.

HOWEVER, AirVPN has no evidence of a no logging policy (aka there’s a chance they keep records of what you do on their service) and ProtonVPN has no method of anonymously signing up and use a subscription model instead of a preferable pay-as-you-go model. So take that as you will.

(NOTE: You do not need to pay for a VPN if you are only directly downloading from a server or streaming off of websites! But it’s probably a good idea for privacy reasons anyways.)

A very good Comprehensive Torrenting Guide! -eye strain warning

And another one!

-If you torrent you need a VPN depending on how strict your government is on copyright laws. This works on a case by case basis, so I recommend looking up your own country's laws on the matter. Generally speaking, use a VPN to torrent if your country falls under The 14 Eyes Surveillance Alliance. More info on what that is Here.

A Note about Antivirus: - If you're using trusted websites, and not clicking on any ad links/fake download ads (Should be blocked by ublock), then you don't necessarily need any antivirus. Common Sense and Windows Defender should be enough to get you by. If you would like to be certain on what you are downloading is legitimate, then run your file through a virus scanner like VirusTotal. Keep in mind that when scanning cracked software some scans may flag “false positives” as the injectors used to crack the software look like malware to these scanners. Once again, the best way to avoid malware is to use trusted sites listed here and use an adblocker at all times.

If you have any questions on anything posted, need help finding things, or just need some clarification on any terms used, shoot me an ask or message! I've got a few years experience with not paying for anything I want, and LOVE to help others with this kind of stuff. But if you don't trust me, since I am a random stranger on the internet, that's fine (I wont be offended promise)! Do your own research!

INFORMATION SHOULD BE FREE!

Last updated: February 16th 2024

[grison-in-space]

Hi fellow neuroscientist and animal behavior observer! What's up? It's a weird ass time to be a scientist in the US right now. Like there's the doom and despair taking up most of my brain but also I have a lab presentation in 1.5 weeks and my committee meeting two weeks after that. How do you make yourself focus on lab/science stuff?

I'm so sorry it's taken me a while to get back to you; I've been rotating this ask in my mind for over a week now. I hope your lab presentation went well, and I hope your committee meeting does, too. Bear in mind that I am reeling as much as anyone else, but... well, I have had a lot of things happen during my academic career, and I have had some practice with this by now. I was displaced from my home three or four times during grad school, and all but once that was because of climate change related flooding. (I actually cannot remember offhand. That kind of thing fucks with your ability to reckon in chronological time, which is why no one has been able to work out how years work since 2020 at latest.) I did my PhD in Texas, too, which gave me some exciting experiences around campus violence and guns.

But maybe the biggest thing for me is that I started grad school in 2012, right in time for the government sequester of 2013. That was the year Patty Brennan (of corkscrew duck penis fame) published an article in Animal Behaviour laying out helpful tips in case your research is targeted as "wasteful spending" by members of Congress seeking to reduce scientific funding. Brennan's work legitimately is groundbreaking--I started out close enough to her field to be able to say that almost no one was looking at vaginal anatomy when she started and she's really driven the field of reproductive conflict forward by systematically looking at methods by which females exert "cryptic choice" to control their own reproductive futures. But it sounds silly at first blush in a sound bite, so she immediately became a target when her work went viral. And that paper came out a decade ago, and we are no better than when we started.

I've gotten pretty good at working through grief and fear, and I've tangled with burnout more than once. So how do you handle it when everything is overwhelming and frightening?

You sketch out the work you can do, and you do it as best you can. Same as anyone else.

Here's the thing. You're a budding scholar. Whatever your field is, you probably know more about it than anyone who isn't a scholar in your field already, and you care about broader justice or you wouldn't be asking me this. This makes you a precious potential resource for whatever activist cause is nearest and dearest to your heart. You are placed, as a person whose career is focused on the pursuit of knowledge, in a position of great authority. Yes, even as a PhD student, although I do agree that having the PhD makes the things you say even more impactful. But you'd be surprised how far even just "PhD student" can go when you're making a stand.

You are a valuable voice when it comes to the intersection of your expertise and your community--and by that, I don't just mean your discipline and your geographical location; I mean your lived experiences and your identities too. If you burn out, your voice and effort may be completely irreplaceable. So make sure you don't burn out, but don't waste your potential to speak out, either. You can do that by working out what your "beat" is: pick one to two things you care really deeply about working on in the world, that you want to make better, and focus on those. Use your authority to make changes.

Currently, my "beat" is focused on disability justice (especially in terms of neurodivergence) and sex/gender, because those are communities I am part of and that I think deeply about. My work there can take a lot of forms: shoving hard on the pernicious medical thought process that tends to conceptualize disorder and disease as a deviation from a uniform functional population; pointing out the complexity inherent in sex differences and sex itself; building relationships with disabled academics to make networks for one another so that we can better support trainees as well as ourselves building alliances between disability justice scholars and researchers tackling these topics with an eye towards integrating the comments and interests of disabled people into the field of study that theoretically focuses on us. These are topics that tie into my research interests (context dependence, decisionmaking, strategy, developmental plasticity, etc) but also into my sense of justice and the communities in which I spend my life as an autistic queer butch.

Think about the things you care most about making better, and think about how those things intersect with your research interests. Is there a bathroom bill you could write a deposition for explaining how complicated sex actually is? A local news reporter who could use a scientist talking about the long term climate impacts of the new fracking project up the road? A new policy on immigrant familial separation that is going to lead to kids with major attachment issues down the line and increase the odds of terrible outcomes? Creative ways to send promising undergrads from underrepresented backgrounds on for new opportunities if you live in a state where DEI initiatives have been banned? (Man, that was an exhausting conversation to have with the North Carolina folks at my last conference. And the Floridians.) Where will your voice carry the most weight for the amount of energy you allocate to it?

Here's my best stab at practical advice for junior trainees:

Figure out what your limit for practical engagement is and defend it viciously. The thing about being in academia, and about having the PhD for that matter, is that it gives you a lot of leverage for speaking authoritatively about problems in your field and in your community. This, too, can be a form of activism and shaping the world. But if that's the weapon you are making out of your career, you can't also be an effective organizer on the ground for eight different local causes. You can't do everything at once, so pick a limited subset of things to focus on and work on those. Like academia, public impact will suck you dry if you let it, so you have to set boundaries and you have to be clear with yourself about that.

As always with research, your topic should be something you're interested in. Apply your priorities as a human being to your research. Move your project in directions you really care about and which are aligned with your values. Talk with your mentors about how you pitch that to other scientists in your field, of course, but if you're really shaken and scared by the political climate... well, better to apply that to your work than to not be able or interested in focusing on the work at all.

Look for things to celebrate and militantly celebrate them, even if it feels silly. You submitted a manuscript? Make a special dinner. You survived your committee meeting? Meet up with a couple of friends for coffee and cheering. You need things to cheer about, and your job is not going to naturally provide them, so lay out things you can celebrate and celebrate them even if you don't feel like you really achieved anything. (Your PI should help with this, but a lot of them don't. If your PI is absentee, try to find labmates or colleagues to celebrate when you can.) Joy and pride fuel us to keep going; make sure you are feeding them. You do not need money to make this happen, either: there are inexpensive ways to make things feel special, even if your stipend doesn't stretch nearly far enough.

Especially if your lab isn't full of people in your corner, make some friends who feel the same way you do about your "beat". Fellow activists (or just people who care) about your biggest priority are a great choice. Back in the day, I would have exhorted you to join Twitter to build that network; these days, I think most everyone is on Bluesky or Mastodon. You need people who get you and who are in your corner, and you need people who don't have power over your career to help you weather it when the storms rise.

People in the midst of despair don't know the future, either. There will be victories to come moving forward. It will be impossible to imagine them as you are today. The future is murky and uncertain, and you never know what battles you can win until you pitch them. Don't let anyone tell you a battle has been lost until you fight it, and don't make the mistake of thinking that what you do today doesn't matter intensely.

Life is iterative: it always starts from what you do today, and small aggregate decisions have a lot more power over the whole than any individual large one. If you don't like the direction you're going, you can always change direction for a while and see where you go. The best time to plant a tree was ten years ago; the second best time is now.

Find ways to take breaks completely from the political situation. Currently, I have just gotten into Minecraft for the first time, and I am playing a lot of stupid pixelated escapism games. You have to have time to recharge yourself away from all of it. Whatever that looks like to you is good enough. I need, personally, to get back into going for long walks in the woods; that one is one of my old reliable helpful ways to think without getting overwhelmed about it.

So. I don't know if anything has gotten better or worse for you over the last couple of weeks, but I hope for better for you. As for me... well, it's probably time to go back to my grant. We're short on funding going into this mess and who knows if the grant I'm writing for an explicitly DEI-oriented program will survive the coming hammer blows long enough to get it in. Even if it doesn't, I have a couple of book pitches I'll write up and a couple of suggestions for jobs along the way I can take. I can always redirect my effort to a new direction.

Take care of yourselves, friends.

[kurogane2512]

Here's a suggestion for you, sis. How about boss Jade x assistant reader(male) where she gives you a lap pillow while stroking your shaft and gently squeezing your balls till you cum.

Also, I really feel like giving you a donation since you write so much good stuff for us. Feel free to drop a donation link if you're comfortable with it.

That's very thoughtful of you man, thank you for that. I have thought of doing commissions in the past so as to have some savings while I'm unemployed, but the issue is the payment method. I tried looking into Patreon but it doesn't seem to work well here, my country imposes stricter laws on these online international payments so idk if there's a good platform. If you have any option then I'll very likely accept the idea since it'll help me a lot! And here's your request below~

NSFW AHEAD || Jade x male!Reader || Smut and Fluff

You rushed through the IPC's corridors the entire day, fulfilling all your tasks and requests as assigned by your boss. Finally, you had a moment of rest now. You were about to go to the rest area when you received a text from your boss asking you to come to her office as soon as possible. You sighed and texted her back saying you'll be there in a minute and made your way over, hoping she wasn't going to assign you another mountainload of work.

"Lady Jade, it's me." you knocked the office door before going in. Your boss wasn't seated at her table as usual, instead you found her sitting on the couch on the right with a cup of tea in her hand.

"Ah, Y/n, as punctual as ever. Come here, have a seat~" Jade softly smiled and patted the place beside her. You blushed for a moment then nodded and walked to her side then sat down keeping some distance between you two. Your boss was beautiful and alluring, and nobody knew the special relationship you had with her as on surface you were just her assistant.

"I gather all the tasks have been completed for the day, hm?" Jade asked while sipping on her tea.

"O-Oh, yes ma'am. I already made a report as well. Should I show—"

"Shh~" Jade placed her index finger on your lips, stopping you from speaking further. Your heart pounded in your chest feeling her intense gaze at you, a pair of light blue eyes looking at you with lust. The same finger now slid down your body, tracing your skin intricately.

"You have done everything as I wanted, not disappointing me in the slightest...." Jade leaned close to you, speaking in a hushed tone. Her finger teased as it roamned over your abdomen, finding the right opportunity to slip inside your shirt.

"I think a reward is in line, a well-deserved one...." her finger now grazed your crotch before palming it, a muffled groan leaving your throat.

"You fulfilled my desires, it's time I fulfill yours~"

This meant she was letting you choose instead of doing what she felt like. Many things occurred in your mind, there was so much you could ask for but only one thing continuously came in your mind. It was an embarrassing request and you felt she'd be disappointed. Jade sensed your inner turmoil and gently placed her other hand on your face, lightly caressing it.

"Are you really feeling shy at this point? Well, I am good at being patient but I don't think you can be considering your state down here~"

You looked down to see a prominent bulge in your pants and Jade's hand still palming it, gently rubbing it up and down. She came even closer to you making her body press into yours, her breasts squishing against your chest as she leaned near your ear to whisper.

"Come on, say what's on your mind like a good boy~"

Your dick twitched at her words and the way she said them, straining in your pants and begging to be freed. You finally gave in and confessed your thoughts. You expected Jade to disagree and send you away, but she simply chuckled and kissed your cheek in response.

"That's all? I can't see how that is a fair reward for all your hard work, but if it'll please you then I have no problems. Come here~"

She opened her arms and you practically lunged forward to embrace her, breathing in her relaxing sweet scent and burying your face in her chest. Frankly, you were tired and wanted to rest. You too had more things you desired but for now, just being able to rest was the best reward your could ask for. You then let go and moved down to place your head on her lap, your eyes looking up at her smiling face.

Jade certainly didn't expect you to ask for something so....simple, she was prepared for a rough evening but she found this quite pleasant. Her left hand roamed down to unbutton your pants and zip down your flyer to fish out your erect shaft, some pre-cum already staining the tip. She smirked and licked her lips at the sight before gently grasping your length.

You stared up at her breasts then pulled down her coat followed by her bra to expose them, kneading the mounds of flesh while she fisted your cock. Her right hand caressed your head, ruffling through your hair and petting it in soothing motions. Her left hand moved up and down your shaft in slow and languid strokes at first, smearing the pre-cum all over for ease of movement.

You leaned up slightly and placed your lips around her nipple, a soft sigh coming out of her. Her right hand now placed under your head and supported you as your tongue flicked over her bud and sucked it. She grasped your cock tighter now and stroked it faster, noticing the way it twitched and was ready to burst. Her fingers moved down to massage your sac, gently rubbing your balls and feeling how full they were.

"Mmm.... quite pent-up, weren't you? Is it because of all the work I gave you today?~"

"N-No, I don't mind the work.... But yes, I haven't got much time for rest, ngh~"

"You should have told me. I have said to speak about your worries and problems to me, haven't I?"

"Yes.... aah.... I just didn't want to burden you in return, I like working for you...."

"Hehe, always a sweet talker. If words could be exchanged for credit then I likely wouldn't be able to pay you back~"

You groaned as you sucked her breast and kneaded the other one, her hand stroked you faster now and in no time you bucked your hips into her palm and released spurts of cum all over. You let go of her breasts and panted on her lap as your cum shot out, staining her hand and some drops falling on your belly. You were about to apologize but your eyes widened as you watched her lick away all of your cum on her hand.

The sight was erotic, the way her tongue licked up every drop and savored it made you turned on more than anything. Her eyes stared back at you as she licked, a lustful gaze staring right into your soul and making you entranced. She looked at how hard your cock still was and smirked.

"Well, shall we indulge in more of your desires tonight?~"

[imsorrythatimweird101-blog]

**Using gateway tapes for void state*

Many people (especially Tumblr, I see y'all) are really interested in the void state. Me too honestly but here's the information that I got about the void state through the gateway tapes.

**By One-lawfulness**

“Glad to see others here who also use the gateway tapes. I'm starting to believe we'll 1 you can shift with them but more so F15 is essentially the void state. It seems they are described the same way.”

“ body asleep/ mind awake is indeed F10. However the void state from what I read is when your pure awareness. You don't feel the body, you can't see, hear, touch, etc. There is no body at all your simply awareness. There's a post I believe in one of the shifting groups where someone linked and reposted a Twitter post where someone went into detail on what is and isn't the void state. All I know is the void state while it shouldn't be hard to reach isn't as simple as some think. But it makes sense since it seems shifting, manifesting, etc is all instant from it.

This should link to the post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/18swmdp/definitive_guide_to_the_void_state/?share_id=1dj52vByrbmI3Q7rNmULO&utm_content=2&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_source=share&utm_term=

Well they say the focus levels are different for everyone but there are some general guidelines to it. Some where someone linked a page with a brief description of each focus level and when you read F15 I think or maybe 12 it's described as a void.

But if your looking for manifesting it seems some say you can do that in F10, 12, and 15 but I assume it's easier the higher you go.

(It's F15)

If I find the page with the focus level description I'll link it also

Found it

https://www.monroeinstituteuk.org/focus-levels/

Personal experience

what's recommended is once you get there the first thing is to manifest being able to enter it easily. Then from there do as you wish. That could work. I assume using it along with LOA is a great combo to help get into the void state the first time. When I was first trying the void state before using the gateway tapes I was in F10 essentially and couldn't fully go into it.

I stayed with F10 for a while but realized I was holding myself back because F10 wasn't hard to enter and I was saying I needed to master it first.

**By Beautiful_V**

F10 is SATS. SATS is the mind awake body asleep, you repeat a scene to mnaifest but that isn’t SATS it’s the state you do that hence state akin to sleep. You can manifest all the time using it! Instead of affirmations (lullaby method) I visualize until I fall asleep in this state. The trick is you can’t be too tired or too awake. Or even better just do it during a nap never takes me more than 3 days.

**Beautiful_v manifesting method**

“My routine”

-Do Wim Hof breathing technique

-Have theta waves immediately playing afterwards

-Count to whatever gets me to floaty feeling at first it was 500, now it’s 200/300 when you lose count just go back to the nearest 100th so you don’t fall asleep

-when I get the floaty feeling it means I’m about to fall asleep so affirm or visualize desired results.

-fall asleep in the wish fulfilled there will be no time for you to doubt because you’ll be too tired

-do this for 3-5 days it works in less depends on your beliefs but I always say 3 days because that’s what I read from Neville so I adopted that mindset !

**Big_suggestion9**

“Yes F10 is considered the void state”

Background: he has his own YouTube channel and is currently on wave 3 tape 6! He's personally like a mentor to me because I ask him about stuff. This is what he personally told me.

He's experience

https://youtube.com/@TheGatewayExperience?feature=shared

**My opinion**

Everyone is right in this discussion. Gateway tapes are based on personal experience. **No matter what, you need enter F10 for anything. Shifting, astral projection, void state. F10 void state or not. To achieve anything you need to achieve F10!**

**What do you recommend?**

You want to go into a void state? Then finish gateway tapes for F10 (gateway 1). Then do F12, after MASTERING everything. Go to manifest tape and affirm that you can go to void state instantly or whatever affirmation you want. Simple as that

**PLEASE READ**

(All credit to them, I did remove some digits from the username. Please do not contact them! I don't want to have a bunch of people flooding their Dms. If you have questions about it. Ask me and I will message them personally if it's that's okay. THANK YOU!)

[shoccolatine]

Do you feel comfortable with writing stuff about mental health issues. Like, MC being depressed due to a mission going wrong or something similar and hiding it from Zayne while they spiral deeper into it until he catches them doing something bad - like idk, self-harm, looking up suicide methods, something like that. Gender neutral reader would be great <3

If you don't want to write this for any reason, feel free to ignore my ask :)

mission failure.

⚘pairing: zayne x gn!reader

⚘summary: after one too many failed missions, you reach a breaking point. zayne comes to your aid. ⚘tags: sfw, 2nd person POV, gender neutral reader, mental health issues, self-esteem issues, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-descriptive/implied self-harm, mild descriptions of morbid thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst ⚘word count: 2k ⚘a/n: thank you so much for your request, i hope i did it justice! this was a very interesting write and i enjoyed it a lot. i tried to be as delicate and vague with the s/h descriptions as i could so as not to trigger anyone, but this fic still deals with sensitive content so please be safe and take care of yourself! much love 💜

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was it. You just couldn’t do anything right.

Another hunting mission had gone poorly. The third in a row, now. They do say all good things come in threes, but could the same be said of misfortune? It certainly seemed so. The first two mission failures had been played off as flukes, but this time…

You made the long trek back to Headquarters with the weight of a tail dragging between your legs, bearing a few cuts and bruises to show for it. Beside you was Tara, who was not quite so worse for wear and, although disappointed, didn’t quite seem to share the same sentiment as you. After all, she hadn’t been the one to let the Wanderer get away. Again.

“Hey, don’t look so down!” she says, in her usual cheerful tone. She pats your arm in an attempt to be comforting. “Can’t win ‘em all, right?”

You give her a look and a frown. “I mean, we should, shouldn’t we? It’s our job, after all.”

“No way! Those Wanderers were tough! I’m amazed we got as far into the Zone as we did!”

But we lost our main target, you thought, yet you held your tongue. There was no changing Tara’s mind once she was set on something. This mission was above her level, anyway, but with every other Hunter either stationed elsewhere or taking a well-deserved break, and Xavier being unreachable as usual, all you had was each other. It had been up to you, as the higher level Hunter, to uphold the team morale and guide you both through a successful mission. But lately, you just kept falling short. Even the most straightforward of missions went awry. Just what was happening?

The entrance doors slid closed behind you as you and Tara headed upstairs for the debrief. Your heart pounded with every step you took. Three failures in a row… Jenna was going to fire you for sure. She might as well do it now, to make space for a newer, better Hunter to take your place and finish your missions properly.

Instead, what came of your debrief was the offering of a week-long break. "Time off to clear your head and refresh," Jenna had said with hard concern, but it might as well have been an arrow to the chest. Just fire me now and get it over with, you thought. Stop wasting everyone’s time and resources and find someone else.

You didn’t need a break. You just needed to be better.

Getting better, however, came with a steep demand you placed upon yourself like a vase upon a pedestal, delicate and teetering. If Jenna wanted to give you another chance, then you would use this week to return to peak performance. You would train, and train, and train, until you were sure to succeed at every mission she threw at you. It was flawless. You’d be back at it in no time.

But as soon as you got off the train and back into your apartment, all you wanted to do was sleep. 

And sleep you did. You slept until you couldn’t think of those missions anymore, and when the thoughts inevitably returned, you slept again.

“You’re not eating enough,” Zayne said during your following check-up later that week. He stated it so matter-of-factly, like he did with any other diagnosis, never looking up from his computer as he typed something. You never knew exactly what. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a break right now?”

“How do you know that?”

“Word gets around,” he said, the beginnings of a smile etched on his face. You didn't like the idea of people knowing things like that so easily. People sure do like to talk... Zayne's hazel eyes lifted from the screen and over at you. “You need to take better care of yourself. Now is as good a time as any to catch up on your body’s needs.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped. Sometimes Zayne needed to mind his own business. Wait, but he was your doctor, and one of your closest friends… What was the matter with you? You really needed to go back to bed and stop being such a nuisance. 

Maybe it’d be better if you got out of his life, too.

You met his questioning expression and the heat of your response drained out of your face. At that, you decided you didn’t want to wait for a reply. Whatever he wanted to say to you with that curious expression of his, you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t deserve to hear it. You quickly left his office and never looked back. If he called your name as the door to his office slid closed behind you, it went unheard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

5 missed calls.

Your phone screen blares the message in your face, blinding against the darkness of your room and blurry against the tears that threatened to fall, that had already fallen, that fell and dried and fell again. Your fingers itch to reply, to call him back or send him a text, but what’s the point? He doesn’t really care. He’s probably just going to scold you for leaving your appointment halfway and being childish and not following doctor’s orders and being rude to him.

Not only have you messed up your job, you’re messing up your relationships now, too. When will you ever stop? Can’t it ever stop?

Your phone buzzes and lights up in your fingers as your ringtone sings into your sheets once more. It’s him again. Doesn’t he know when to quit? You watch his name as it waits idly on your screen. It gets tired of waiting, as it always does, and finally disappears. You sigh as another hot tear slips down your cheek.

Something new happens this time.

1 new voicemail, your phone screen reads. You start to slide the notification away, but against your better judgment, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you give in, tap the notification, and listen. 

The line is silent for a moment, and part of you hopes he gave up and left you nothing.

Finally, after what sounds like a throat clearing, he speaks.

“Hey, it’s me,” Zayne’s voice comes through the speaker. It’s got that usual muffled crackly phonecall texture laid onto it, but it sounds enough like him that it feels like he’s right there with you, underneath the blankets. “Are you alright? …Listen. Whatever it was I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner, but you left so suddenly. Call me when you’re able?”

The silence creeps in again, and you can almost hear him consider saying something more, can almost see his expression as his thoughts thunder in his brain but refuse to leave his lips, but then there’s a click, and the call ends. The robotic voicemail message drones monotonously about saving the message, and halfway through, you hang up, too.

The back of your throat clenches and burns, and you barely fight back a sob as it wrenches itself out of you. Zayne was worried about you. You made him worry. You thought he was mad, you wanted him to be mad, but he’s not. He cares about you. Why…?

You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if you could push back the sting of tears that rush, hot and salty, from your bloodshot eyes. It hurts, and you start to see flashes of bright white stars under your eyelids, but it’s better than succumbing to the pain in your chest. Your heart shares a galaxy with the stars in your vision, a dying star that’s fizzling out, or maybe even being consumed by the void of a black hole. How morbidly comforting. You suddenly want to rip it out.

You wonder, just how difficult would it be to separate the Aether Core from your still-beating flesh…?

You try to shake the thoughts from your mind but they hold fast. Throwing the blankets off of your body, you leave your room hobbling like a zombie, make a beeline for the kitchen, and pull open a drawer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s late at night when there’s a knock at your door. A slight rap of the knuckles. A sharp one, two. Once, then twice, and on the third knock there’s another sound, too. A rattling jingle. And it’s times like these when you curse yourself for giving Zayne the extra key to your apartment.

He calls out your name as he steps in. You barely hear him. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s far away, or speaking quietly, or if you’re just that far gone into your own thoughts that everything else around you is muted.

He might have called only once, or a dozen times, by the time he reaches your room and spots your hunched figure on your bed. He says your name again, and this time you do hear him. 

You meet his gaze, steeled with concern, and immediately regret it. 

He sees you, really sees you, and all at once your façade crumbles once more. He approaches the edge of your bed, and you turn your eyes anywhere but at him as you brace yourself for impact.

“What are you doing?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.

Zayne grabs your wrist. Yet, his touch is gentle—firm enough to grip you, but soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted. You don't. You’re far too tired to fight anymore. You continue to stare at the floor with teary eyes, but there is resignation hanging heavy on your shoulders, like a wet blanket. Zayne takes your silent compliance as an okay to pull you along with him down the hallway of your dimly lit apartment and into the bathroom.

He sits you down on the toilet. The light clack of the lid hitting the porcelain beneath from your sudden weight seemed to jolt you awake a bit; your eyes refocus and follow his movements as he shuffles through the medicine cabinet. He pulls out a few things and then returns to tend to his patient.

"Hand. Here," he says as he holds out his own. You offer yours, and he meets you halfway. He always does. He’s as meticulous and calm as always as he cleans, disinfects, and wraps your wounds, ever the doctor, but there’s a certain softness in his motions that you’re sure he reserves for only his most cherished patients. 

Only for you.

The thought rolls a warm wave over you, the once wet blanket that had been dragging you down now fresh out of the laundry and wrapped carefully around you, cozy and hot and certain. There’s still a bit of damp spots here and there, but those will also dry in time. And you know Zayne will still be here when that time comes.

Your thoughts are broken when long fingers drag against your cheek, wiping away yet more damp spots and fanning through your shining lashes.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Zayne says, repeating his words from earlier that day. Was that really only today? This day was lasting a lifetime. As with before, his tone holds no ice. You regret snapping at him when he was only trying to help. He must feel your tension, because he puffs a breath out through his nose just then, and the warm air tickles the hairs on your forehead. He places a kiss there, the barest brush of his lips on your skin. He pushes your hair back with long warm fingers, tucking a strand behind your ear. “If you need help with that, I’m here. Always. You need only ask.”

Later still and he’s tucking you into bed and giving your forehead another gentle kiss, making you feel like a kid again. He’s surprisingly good at that. You don't know how he does it.

Zayne follows you under the covers, and leaves you an open invitation to snuggle against him, if you wish. You gratefully accept, tucking your head under his chin as he envelops you. He’s very careful not to apply pressure to your bandaged skin. 

Right before you fall asleep, he whispers a promise of breakfast tomorrow, and dinner, and whatever else comes next. A promise of staying, no matter what.

[lagataprrr]

Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Chapter 3 No Hands

S. Gojo x plus!size fem reader

Warnings: slight dry humping, heavy makeout session, Gojo being completely obsessed with reader, readers insecurities maybe getting the best of her AGAIN

Blame it on the Club's Playlist | Masterlist

Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! They have more on their profile🥹

a/n: I did not edit this so im sorry beforehand for any grammatical errors. I hope yall enjoy this one!!! I wanted to delve more into like how self conscious one can feel when it comes to intimacy and I think I did it a lot on personal experiences. I love yall and you are all so beautiful!!!!! also if you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know <333333

Also!! Should I name readers two friends??? Give me suggestions in the comments!!

should I make an actual playlist for this series?

Enjoy reading <3

"Please do not forget that I expect your drafts of the introduction and methods section of your study, and please for the love of God. Write your own work." The professor lets out a breath. "I am so tired of having to send half of my class to the honor council because they can't write their own paper. Make smart choices." As soon as she turns around to leave, everyone starts packing their stuff.

You quickly type in your project to your reminder app on your laptop before closing it. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and stepping out of the classroom you're met with one of your friends.

"Well there's my favorite friend, ever." She says, a sly grin on her face and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if you texted the hottie you so sneakily went and did." You shake your head with a laugh as you both walked out of the science building. The slight chilly air on campus making you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, I have not."

And somehow, because the universe felt like exposing you. Your text ringtone chimed, twice. Your friend raising an eyebrow at you, and another chime making it a third message.

"Uh huh. Has he texted you by chance?" You roll your eyes, and pull your phone out of your pocket. Hottie with the body sent 3 new messages. "That's an interesting contact name."

"It was how he saved himself." You say quickly unlocking your phone and moving it away from your friends prying eyes.

Hottie with the body

how was your statistics class?

wait are u taking that class with Professor ibrahimbegovic?

she's so mean

You are quick to type in your responses, your friend watching with a curious look.

You:

It was alright, gotta finish up my draft for my study lol

and yesss

im guessing you've taken her class

"So did he text first or did you?"

"He did, but it's just talking about classes." You say, locking your phone and glancing at her. "What's with that face?"

"He's into you, babe"

You look away and scowl. "Not this again."

"Y/N, you have got to stop thinking that no guys can show you genuine interest because of your looks." She says earnestly, linking her arms with yours. "You're gorgeous, smart, and know how to throw that ass back like a Goddess."

"Oh my god." You let out a laugh.

"It's true!" Both of you reach the cafe and the bell chimes, "Go ahead and get a table I'll order our drinks." You nod and find a table near the window. Setting down your stuff and unlocking your phone again, this time scrolling through social media. You could hear the bell of the door chime again but you payed it no mind.

Your phone chimed again and you opened the message.

Hottie with the body

you look cute

Your head immediately looks up and you're met with Satoru standing at the entrance, his dark haired friend standing next to him. He shoots you a smile and heads your way. You don't miss the way your heart skips a beat as he makes his way towards.

"Hi." You greet, feeling your nerves pick up.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here."

"Oh yeah, totally not because everyone likes to come here after being grilled by hard professors." You joke and he chuckles.

"Oi, same thing as always?" His friend asks and Satoru nods. "Oh, you must be Y/N." His friend knowing your name catches you off guard.

He's talked about you? How cute!

More like embarrassing. Your mind battles with your thought.

You nervously laugh and nod. "I am. Yeah, t-that's me."

"I'm Suguru Geto, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." And he nods, heading to the line to the cash register.

"So, what's your study about?" Satoru questions as he takes the seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his cologne and fuck did he smell good. Your eyes went from his face and down to the rest of him, the black compression shirt he was wearing accentuated his form, and holy shit, were those abs?

He's way out of your league.

"Uh... well it's about the desensitization in peoples reactions to certain news headlines." Your eyes were still on him, going down to the grey sweatpants he wore, until you finally looked back up to his eyes. A smirk on his lips, clearly amused at your unashamed gaze.

"That's actually really interesting. For our class we had to do it about students anxiety levels between online and in person classes." You nod as he continued to explain, your eyes on his lips now.

Snap out of it you idiot, he's talking to you. Your mind practically yelled at you.

"Okay! One medium Y/F/D and a cheese danish." Your friend says, setting down your drink and treat as she takes the seat across from you. "Oh! Hello! You must be Satoru." She greets and you widened your eyes at her.

Satoru glances at you with his smirk again before nodding at her, introducing himself and making small talk.

Please swallow me Mother Earth.

"Oh! Y/N did you invite him to go out with us tomorrow?"

You tilted your head in confusion at this. "Tomorrow?" You did not have any plans tomorrow.

"Yeah, remember, we're supposed to go to the club again tomorrow." She says with a sly smirk. "We're trying to get this one to go out at least every Friday! She's a scholar but she needs to make memories."

"Sounds fun, you going?"

"No."

"Yes." Your friend and you say at the same time. You glare at her and she wiggles her eyebrows. "She is."

Satoru nods, but his eyes were on you the entire time. "I can meet you there, if you want." He's almost begging with the tone he used, his eyes on yours before glancing down at your lips, as you gnawed on that delicious lip he was literally aching to kiss again.

You felt heat creep up your neck, unsure. "She'd love it, in fact. Y/N since I'm picking up Y/F/N, you can ride with Gojo and meet us there!" She suggests, and Satoru nods in agreement.

Gojo? Who the hell is Gojo?

"I don't mind picking you up, if you're okay with it."

Gojo is his last name. Keep up.

"Sure." You respond almost unsure at your own response.

"Great. Then we'll see you tomorrow!"

And that is how you currently find yourself running around your apartment trying to make sure everything was perfect. You weren't expecting Satoru to come inside, but if it does happen, then at least everything would at least be decent. This time you were wearing a black romper dress, with matching black heels.

As you went back and forth in your apartment, your cat followed you, curious as to what could you possibly be doing. In the middle of your stress your phone chimed, and you let out a groan. Going to your room to grab it from the nightstand.

Satoru :):

I'm here.

but take your time, no rush at all

I know you're getting all prettied up

You felt heat creeping on your cheeks as you shake your head.

You:

I'm done, let me grab my ID and I'll come down

Satoru :):

sounds good, pretty

also

still can't believe you changed my contact name :(((((

You:

im sorryyyy

it was distracting

You made sure to lock your door and headed down, stepping onto the sidewalk looking for his blue BMW until you furrowed your brows. Looking down at your phone and starting to text him to ask if he was sure he put down the right address, until you heard a wolf whistle. Looking up to see a black Mercedes G-Wagon, the one that came out this year, at that. Satoru gets out of the car and gives you a boyish grin.

"Never fail to leave me breathless, pretty." You give him a wide smile, thanking him as your eyes raked over him. The white crewneck and black jeans doing wonders for him, along with his baby blue nike dunks. A pair of glasses sat on his nose and holy shit, did he smell good.

"You look good too." You reply, and he grins. Opening the passenger door for you and holding out his hand. You thank him as you take it and get in the car, unbeknownst to you Satoru glanced the light blue color that flashed from under your dress and he felt heat all over his neck. Closing the door and jogging back to the drivers side, he starts heading out in the direction of the club.

Your eyes glanced around the interior of the car, the smell of expensive leather making you wonder just how much does this cost. "How many cars do you own?" You ask absentmindedly, and then you slap a hand to your mouth. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Satoru laughs, "It's okay. I don't mind." Giving you a reassuring smile. "I have two of them here, my other cars are in my house in Shibuya."

"Other cars?" You ask incredulously. "We are in different tax brackets I see." You joke and he lets out a laugh, a smile on your face at the sound.

You both continue talking throughout the ride until you reach the club valet, only to furrow your brows as it seems the security guards were waving people off. Satoru was quick to roll down your window.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo, unfortunately sir we have a couple of pipes that burst in the restrooms so we're closed until they get fixed."

"Okay, thanks man."

"Mr. Gojo?" You tease as he rolls up your window.

"He's just being nice."

"Mhmm." You say as you text your friends group chat.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

You:

club is closed

Musketeer #1:

what??

so I got ready for NOTHING?

Musketeer #2:

bruh

im not even ready yet

but damn

Musketeer #1:

this was a sign for me to work on my backup assignments

Musketeer #2:

^same

we can go out next Friday

Musketeer #1:

Are u still with Gojo?

"Do you want to go eat something?" You glance up to see Satoru already looking through his phone.

"Are you hungry?"

He tilts his head at you with a smile. "I asked first."

"I am, are you?"

"I am." He nods and quickly puts in an address not the screen of the car. "I'll take you to this place that's nearby."

You nod and go back to your phone.

Musketeer #2:

she def is

she's probably not answering bc she's busy

sucking dick

Musketeer #1:

throat goat fr

Musketeer #2:

Hawk TUah

You:

ENOUGH

You lock your phone and glance out the window, heat on your cheeks and Satoru raises a brow at this. Though it's soon forgotten when you see the expensive restaurant that he's pulling into.

"Tapas Molecular Bar? Satoru..." You say as he puts the car in park. "This is expensive."

"I know." He says as he kills the engine, getting out of the car and heading to your side. Opening the door for you only for you to stay seated. His eyes meet yours and he gives you a smile. "I'm inviting."

"No, that's too much. I mean we barely know each other, and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of this-"

"Y/N, I don't think that of you. I just want to spoil you with some good food. I would've preferred this to be a date, but, I don't think you want that. So I'm inviting you to eat."

You gulp nervously at his confession and maybe just maybe... "Do you want it to be a date?"

"I'd love it if it was. But I respect your wishes."

Carefully stepping out of the car and watching him close the door, you let out a shaky breath. "Okay... it's a friends date then. As friends!" You clarify and It was like an instant light switch, the way Satoru beamed at this. A wide smile showing his perfect pearly white teeth, eyes crinkling because of how wide he was smiling. "But! Just this one time... okay?"

"Great! Now stop over thinking, this is a friends date and I'm treating you to the best food." You laugh as he practically bounces as he walks, and you link your arm around his. Just to make sure he doesn't actually float away with the way he was acting.

The double doors were opened and the restaurant could not look any fancier, it made you feel so out of place.

Satoru was quick to let the host know he needs a table for two, and you were both escorted to a windows seat on the second level. With a beautiful look out to the city, making you grin. Opening the camera app and quickly snapping a picture of the view and sending it to your friends.

Satoru was so ecstatic as he pulled out the chair for you and pushed you in, rambling on and on about how you'll love the food.

You felt nervous, your hands felt sweaty and could almost feel your entire body jitter. You cleared your throat a couple of times, trying to calm down.

"Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?" The server sent you a polite smile, before her eyes landed on Satoru. Interest shining in her eyes as her whole demeanor changed into that as someone interested.

"I'd like a coke." Satoru answers as his eyes skim the menu.

"I'll just have a water."

"Great, I'll be right back with your water." The servers eyes never once lifted off the white haired man sitting in front of you.

As soon as your gaze landed on the prices of the menu you felt like throwing up on the spot.

All those zeroes are supposed to be there?! You mentally screamed.

"Stop thinking so hard on the price, and find something you want to eat." Satoru says, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes meet your own.

It gave you the chance to really study his eyes, the striking blue that genuinely exuded the gentle calmness of a lake. The rest of his features complemented him so well, from his pretty pink lips to the sharp jawline. His hair that stuck out makes him look so handsome, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"It's thirteen courses?"

"Yup, and they're all so good."

"I think I read this menu and gained at least ten pounds." You joke, but Satoru didn't laugh.

"That's not true." He pouts, and tilts his head at you. "You seem to make a lot of comments about yourself negatively."

"It's a coping mechanism."

That's what you've told yourself your whole life.

"Stop that." You furrow your brows. "You're beautiful, no need for all of that."

As you were about to respond a glass of water was placed in front of you. Satoru sent you a wink and turned to the server, "We'll have the set menu with the five premium wine flight."

You read the menu to see what he was ordering and you choke on your spit. "Satoru-" He's ripping the menu from your hands and handing it to the server, shooing her away.

"Get ready to try the best food ever."

♡

Three and a half hours later you're sat in Satoru's car in a fit of giggles at one of his antics. The wine in your system making you feel more comfortable in your skin, as he drove you home.

"So, this friend date, how would you rate it?"

You thought for a second, raising a brow. "I'd say a 9/10."

Satoru dramatically gasps, as he parks in front of your apartment complex. "What took away that one point?"

"That's for me to know." You teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. You glanced at the apartment complex and back at Satoru. Chewing on your lower lip, and inhaling softly. "Thank you for tonight, Satoru. I had a lot of fun."

"So I take it, you enjoyed the friends date?"

You nodded with a smile, opening the car door and stepping out. "Do you..." You trailed off, a nervous tingle running up your spine as you glance back at the entrance of the complex to avoid his eyes. And that ridiculous boyish grin. "Maybe want to come in?"

He has a little pep in his step as he follows you up the complex and to your apartment. Praying to God that you left it as decent as possible. As soon as your front door opens your met with your cats excited meows as a greeting.

"Oh, who's this?" Satoru asks, bednign down to run his fingers over his soft fur.

"This is Luxio."

"Luxio? Like Pokemon Luxio?" He asks as he glanced up at you with a raised brow in curiosity. Your entire face heats up in embarrassment as you cringe, but nod nonetheless. "That's the most perfect name for him."

Your cat meows at this, purring loudly as he leans onto Satoru's hand, almost like agreeing with his statement.

"Well, anyways, welcome to my home." Your cat glances up, sort of narrowing his eyes at you and meows. "Oh, I'm sorry, welcome to mine and Luxio's home."

"Thank you for welcoming me." Satoru responds, scratching Luxio behind his ear.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it to see the dozens of messages from your friends.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

Musketeer #1:

Im so mad the club is closed.

I wanted to shake some ass

Musketeer #2:

they posted their playlist! ive been listening to it while doing hw

lmao

https.clubinfinity.com/playlist

Musketeer #1:

LIFESAVER

"Oh hey! One of my friends just sent me the link to the playlist they were going to play tonight in the club." You say as you head over to the small stereo set next to the tv in your living room, turning it on and connecting your phone. "Do you want to drink something?"

"What you got?" Satoru still engrossed with your cat.

"Pretty sure there's a tequila bottle under my sink."

After fighting with your bluetooth connection for around four minutes, the stereo finally pinged and the robotic voice of 'the bluetooth device has been connected' you mentally cheered. Pressing play on the song that began to blast through the speakers.

Listen to this track, bitch

"Finally!" And Satoru laughs behind you, already heading your way with two shot cups he found next to the tequila bottle. Handing you one and pouring your shot along with his.

"Pretty sure me and Suguru got drunk for the first time with this song." He says and you giggle, putting down your phone.

He clinks his glass with yours, "cheers." Both of you throwing your heads back as you swallowed the burning liquor.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants

Luxio took his place in his cat tower near the window of the living room as you and Satoru poured another shot, the tequila building up on the wine both of you drank earlier and the room feeling hot.

Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

With no shame, thanks to the liquor, you kick off your heels and throw your hands over Satoru's neck, dancing as you both laugh.

All that ass in yo' jeans Can Wale beat? Can Roscoe skeet? Long hair, she don't care

His hands finding comfort on your hips again as you moved, His gaze focused on you and only you. You grin at him before turning around, pressing against him.

When she walk she get stares Brown skin or a yellow-bone DJ, this my favorite song So I'ma make it thunderstorm Bud, want it Flocka, yeah Blow it, fuck it, I don't care

Your ass grinded against him, the alcohol burning through your blood and this time Satoru wasted no time to grind against you too. His jeans felt tight on his crotch in no time, feeling his cock harden at the sensual movements of yours that were driving him insane.

I'm tryna hit the hotel with two girls that swallow me Take this dick, wanna swallow, Pink Moscato got her freaky Ayy, you got me in a trance, please take off yo' pants Pussy pop on a handstand, you got me sweatin' Please pass me a fan, damn (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

And just like the song, Satoru definitely needed a fan. His entire body was heating up, and fuck did you look so good dancing on him again. And once again did you have him reeling behind you, when you suddenly bent down, hands on your knees and the view of you back so sensual bent made him groan.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move (ayy, ayy) And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Wale, uh)

His grip tightened on your hips, your ass moving in circles against his hard on. And fuck, that sensual look you sent him as you looked over your shoulder made him bite his lip. You sent him a flirty wink as you leaned back up hands now over his on your hips and swiveled them, pushing them with a precise pressure over his cock.

She said, "Look ma, no hands" She said, "Look ma, no hands" And, no darling, I don't dance And I'm with Roscoe, I'm with Waka I think I deserve a chance

"You're driving me insane." Satoru says in your ear, lips grazing the tip of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. Your panties were soaked, sticking on you and you're sure your juices were only seconds away from trailing down your thighs. His lips pressed soft kisses over your earlobe, slowly training down on your jaw and reaching the corner of your mouth. "You've been driving me insane since I met you." He confesses, pressing a particular almost feather light kiss near your lips.

You turn in his arms, once again your arms around his neck. Feeling his cock press against you. "Show me." You swear it was the alcohol. There's no way you just said that to this hot man standing in front of you.

You mentally ignore the loud and mean voice in your head, yelling at you about your physique and how you shouldn't.

"You sure? I don't want to scare you away." He whispers his blue eyes making your stomach churn in nerves.

"Show me, I..." You trailed off, bracing yourself in disbelief at your words. "I trust you."

Satoru wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours, his hands coming up to cup your face tilting your head up to be able to kiss you better. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, his tongue tracing all over your tongue.

"Fuck." He moaned, pressing hard kisses on your lips, bending his knees and now moving his hands to the back of your thighs.

"Satoru- wait!" He's lifting you up in no time, making you panic and wrap your legs around him tightly. Now his hands holding you under your ass, "Satoru I'm heavy, don't please."

"Shut up and tell me where your room is, baby." His lips sucking on the spot right below your ear, making you gasp.

"F-First door to the left." His legs move automatically, almost kicking your door down and closing it behind the both of you. His sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck as he slowly lays you down, one arm still gripping your thigh to be pressed to his side while his other arm supported him from fully laying his weight on you. Satoru pulls away to look at you, and you looked so beautiful like this. Under him, a little breathless and lips starting to swell from kissing him so fervently. He could also notice how you slowly but sure started shrinking away from his gaze, and Satoru would not allow this. Not this time.

"You're so fucking stunning." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands are fisting his shirt, letting out a whine into his mouth as he slowly ground his hips against your core. Your brows pinched up at the feeling, eyes looking into Satoru as you let you a gasp of pleasure. "So fucking beautiful," He presses kisses down your jaw, reaching all the way to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into your soft skin. Satoru slowly leaned back, leaning on his legs as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. His fingers ran over the romper you're wearing and reached to the neatly tied bow on the back of your neck that held the material on you. "Can I take this off, baby?"

Your eyes shown a glint of uncertainty, and Satoru was quick to cup your face and lean his forehead on yours. "Don't-" He was quick to whisper to you. "You're so beautiful, I want this. But do you?"

You let out a shaky breath, fiddling with a button of his shirt nervously. "I want this, but I just- I'm not really umm... confident without something covering me?" The alcohol was making you spill all the details. "Maybe not tonight?" Satoru not wanting you to feel uncomfortable he nods, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and moving off of you. Seeing his fallen look on his features made you feel so guilty, and you immediately felt so uncomfortable in your own skin.

"I think you should go."

Taglist: @bankaixx @shiftinghoe @uniquecutie-puffs @thewomans-stuff @plathsotherib @lanaismotherrrrrrr @fangirllookingforlife I love yall and thank you for reading <3

[tumblingxelian]

If I may ask with an open enough mind, might I hear out your thoughts on the character of Chloe Bourgeois? I don't expect an answer right out the gate so don't rush on my account. I'm merely trying to collect varying perspectives over what's become a uniquely controversial character.

Oh my that is a doozy of a question, I've debated no less than three separate videos on the topic and multiple essays to boot. Still, she's on my mind and the thing I am working on is obstructing me from modelling or writing but quires breaks to let stuff load so I have time for a longer ask:

So, what are my thoughts on Chloe Bourgeois?

Exactly where to start is rather tricky, so forgive any digressions or rambles.

Chloe is thematically the everyday reality of an Akumatized person.

What I mean by this is that Akuma victims are people in states of emotional distress, tribulation or trouble. Who thanks to the enabling of a power greater than themselves are both encouraged and enabled to lash out at others with borrowed power.

These people are meant to be sympathetic, their emotional tribulation taken advantage of, their situation, methods and thought process untenable. But they do need to be stopped from doing harm, and then healing needs to begin, with some effort made to redress the issue that led to them lashing out in the first place.

Akuma victims are the supernatural theme, Chloe is the reality.

Of course, some might claim she has no reason to have issues but...

Her mother is negligent and largely absent. The time they spent together prior to Queen Wasp, consisted of Chloe praising, giving gifts and trying to please Audrey. Only to be torn down, ignored, rejected or have her efforts disparaged. The woman doesn't even get her name right and the only means by which she earned even a scrap of approval was through being cruel. Something explicitly encouraged by the show's main character which is ???. 

Though it seems Audrey got bored with her fairly quickly regardless.

Audrey is unrelentingly hostile, selfish and cruel and encourages these traits in others and only avoids turning them on a person if they are sufficiently useful, or a match for her in viciousness. You are either her victim, her tool, or a conspirator. This is a hilariously awful parent, the damage she can do limited only by her sheer lack of interest.

Andre is somehow worse.

I am going to ignore the reading undertones of subtext into things but suffice to say that ratchets him up from just a bad parent to kill him with fire parent.

What we see with Andre is a man who explicitly taught Chloe to lie, cheat, intimidate, extort and bribe people to get what she wants. She is fourteen, and has been doing this since before she was in double digits. She's not bad because there's something innately wrong with her, she behaves badly because she's been explicitly taught that was the proper way to conduct herself.

We know full well Andre is capable of reigning Chloe in, be it gently in the Christa episode or with disciplinary action in Kung Food. However he only does this when it suits him, or her actions might cause him problems. For all his alleged affection for her, or her alleged influence on him, Chloe's always on the end of a leash Andre can and will tug back on the moment he feels like it.

This isn't just bad because it's so blatantly hypocritical and self serving. It's bad, because it means he enables Chloe's most self destructive and harmful traits so long as they don't impact 'him'. Given also that he is the one who, to put it charitably, raised her, that means the consequences and fallout of her actions should fall on him.

The fact he is presumably the one who encouraged Chloe to impersonate his wife, given Audrey didn't start rewarding that behavior until Queen Wasp, is also bad parenting. Like even if you ignore the disgust factor, its just fucking awful parenting and like everything else he taught her. It contributed to the fact Chloe is a social pariah hated by most people she has to spend time around.

Because let's get to the next stage, subversions!

In most shows like ML, Chloe as "The mean girl" would be popular, or at least feared, able to pose a threat in a social context, and is usually insulated from the more magical issues.

None of this applies to Chloe.

Even if we don't treat Origins as the shows starting point, she's already only tangentially involved in class stuff. Her fathers hotels own doorman outright says she has no friends, extremely out of pocket of him. & Origins sees one of the first things said to him being that Chloe is a brat and he halfway ditches her before 24 hours are up, and keeps her at nominal arms length for the rest of the series.

We can talk about how there's reasons for this, sure, but the thing that's interesting here is the subversion.

Chloe's mean-ness has not won her friends or influence as it does other mean girls in fiction, such as Heathers or Mean Girls.

Instead, it's made her barely tolerated by her peers and this only grows worse for her as the show goes on leading to her ensuing isolation which only worsens her condition and attitude. This is something Chloe is even varying shades of aware of, as she tearfully confessed to Ladybug when hiding from her Akumatized father. She knows something is wrong, but doing things differently goes against everything her parents taught her or exemplified, so it's not a shock she struggles.

Similarly, compare how Bonnie from Kim Possible could actually out-compete Kim for the role of cheer captain. 

Can Chloe beat Marinette in anything?

No, not really, or least the narrative never lets her do so even when she does have the skills for it, such as 8 years of ballet losing to nice vibes.

This is much less interesting than the previous point because it's basically just the writers using Chloe as a speed bump which gets boring after a while.

Then consider how Totally Spies own Mean Girl, Mandy is rarely tied to the actual adventures save maybe in a way other civilians are; leaving altercations with Clover as civilian affairs.

Does this apply to Chloe?

Fuck no XD

Chloe's frequently targeted by AKuma, even when she either shouldn't be singled out, (Ivan, everyone was scared) or for comparatively minor transgressions (Nathanial, his teacher screamed at, insulted & shook him) or outright targeted by the main villain of the show. (One who has known her since she was an infant!) 

Even before she had a Miraculous, Chloe was a frequent target of violent murder attempts. But this is largely treated as neutral, or even as comeuppance for bad behaviour. The issue is, the sheer scale of what she's being targeted with is so completely disportionate to what she did, assuming she even did things wrong, that it comes off as more unfair than anything else, & liable to give trauma. 

Especially as the show has double standards at times.

I think often-times the writers neglected to actually think through their karmic punishments for Chloe.

Take Pixelator, 

Chloe is the one who recognized Jagged, helped her father, and actually did her fucking job, but is the only student not rewarded with a concert ticket despite having done nothing to piss Jagged off.

Or how when her locker was broken into she's largely dismissed and needs to threaten the principal with her father to get a response. One might say this is abusing her power, but A, it's her dads power and B, we see with Lila later that the principle will basically just bow to whoever can make the bigger fuss. This isn't a Chloe issue it's a Damocles issue and I think being upset people broke into her locker isn't exactly unfair.

Similarly, I noted above how Chloe loses to Marinette even when she shouldn't logically do so. 

A bigger example of the narrative short hand delivered is the fact we see other characters do stuff Chloe does and get free rides.

IE, Kagami can dramatically strut into a fencing hall talking the most boastful shit, actually lose more or less legitimately, Akumatize and still be treated with sympathy and become a hero.

Chloe boastfully auditions to be Ladybug for a music video, but actually is the best audition scene, but loses out to positive vibes, gets angry & through her father lashes out, gets punished & no one gives a shit about her side of the story. 

To be clear, I like Kagami, I find this comparison interesting, I just don't think the show realized that it did this or does stuff like this a lot. 

That whole episode also demonstrates what I said at the start, about Chloe embodying the thematic of Akuma, IE, anger or distress, powerful sponsor, lashing out, ETC. 

So the double standard in how she's framed and treated VS Kagami is framed and treated becomes a weakness of the writing and show. 

We also see this with stuff like her & Marinette sabotaging Kagami, but Marinette largely getting portrayed sympathetically for doing so while Chloe isn't. 

This creates the impression the problem isn't Chloe's bad behavior, it's with her mere existence.

IE, she's the audience and writer's punching bag/designated target, so it feels like the writers just kind of don't bother a lot of the time actually making her wrong or thinking through the implications of their story beats with her, or other characters' behaviour. 

This stuff is present in Season 1, much more overt in season 2 and basically caps off season 3 which is where I stopped watching.

Cos like, the villain who's known her since forever has been actively trying to utilize her through the seasons, who explicitly aimed to puther in a state of severe emotional distress, ambushed her in her own home & had her parents in his grasp.

Right after the show's hero blatantly walked back a previous ruling that kept Chloe from being Queen Bee, (& did so for selfish and if one considered HK targeting known heroes, incredibly callous reasons)

But we're meant to hate the 14 year old for responding badly?

I would also argue stuff like this is a large part of what makes Chloe such an ensemble dark horde to the fandom. Not just because one can read into things about her history and character, but because the author's hand is so heavy it actively hurts and hinders its own narrative in order to harm Chloe and so feels unfair.

Some final notes I couldn't place elsewhere:

Akuma don't usually harm their loved one's. Chloe's mother tried to kill her on sight & then kept looking for excuses to do so & finally did. Andre turned the powerful & willful Audrey into a simpering hanger on and wanted to do the same with Chloe, which again, yikes.

When fused together they declared her incapable of loving anyone but herself. A fact blatantly disproven already but even in the episode itself with her demanding their release in exchange for helping Hawk Moth. & then tried to fucking EAT HER.

Her butler, school friend and teacher seemingly love her more than her own parents.

As an aside, Sabrina's explicitly encouraged to work for Chloe by her father as it makes her "Useful" which has loads of implications. But at least one can't blame Chloe for Sabrina's character.

Madame Bustier, when Akumatized uses having "Taken care" of her father as a lure to try and get Chloe to come to her. So again, yikes if one wants to read into it as it means even as an Akuma who was upset by Chloe, Bustier perceives Andre as the threat/problem to her.

Chloe by all accounts seems to live alone in a hotel suite, not even one of the fancier, super suites but like... The walls are 50% glass with no curtains, that lead to publicly exposed areas (as we see interviews with Jagged being conducted in them) and there's almost nothing to identify it as a space she lives in. Hell, the pictures on the wall are often blank and it seems she's lived here alone since she was a toddler.

That would have calamitous impacts on a Child's psyche & development! 

Despite her portrayal, Chloe was shown to be extremely good at being Queen Bee in many respects.

She almost soloed Mayura.

She is the first person shown able to resist Akuma, got civilians out of an Akuma infested train cart & protected Sabrina during the second red Akuma swarm.

She was able to quickly and easily keep up with Ladybug on the roof tops and using a similar weapon & travel style creates a visual parallel between the two which carries implications of them being counterparts. 

But most especially Chloe proved herself a skilled and heroic combatant during Heroes Day; covering for the other heroes without orders, doing so easily & needing to be targeted by multiple villains all with personal ties to her to be brought down, while protecting other heroes.

But that never really gets acknowledged.

So much like with "Nearly being brutally murdered for being kind of a dick" this sense of narrative imbalance engendered sympathy from those who notice.

I also find it fascinating that Chloe is, despite spending her life surrounded by abusers and enablers both, that she, without any real guidance, managed to soften their behaviors on her own.

Yes she buys Sabrina presents in luew of saying sorry, but she also spends time with her and does fun stuff, Andre just buys her off. She wants Adrien at her side and the like, but she doesn't actually try to stop him from befriending people she hates, Gabriel tries to keep him locked up. She doesn't like losing, but compares her relatively mild huffiness or brief theatrics to Audrey's violent response to merely being snubbed.

She's already doing better than all of them despite explicitly being taught or demonstrated, or victimized with all the wrong lessons and is fourteen.

Chloe also obviously has a deeply unhealthy understanding of relationships as seenin in how she recreates her parents awful dynamic with everyone around her. 

IE,

Andre fawns on Audrey, who is domineering, never satisfied and harsh at best. Chloe acts accordingly with Sabrina, while fawning on her mother and Ladybug who are much the same though  for different reasons. She's internalized this deeply unhealthy dynamic and applies it to herself as much as she does to anyone else.

This is just one element of the fact she honestly seems deeply troubled on a social level. I mentioned earlier that Chloe seems to know "Something" is wrong with everyone hating her & is clearly unhappy about it. But also seems unsure how to fix it, or what the source of the problem is.

The fact she often doesn't seem to get social cues, even from people she's treating like a peer, such as Ala or Adrien, gives off the sense that her problems go deeper than just "Being a brat".

This is further emphasized by the fact that so much of her daily persona seen is her doing an impression of her mother. Or otherwise putting on a show to try and get her dad or Kim, or the principle ETC, to do something.

Because when she's "upset" it's all theatrical prancing and squeals of daddy and then it's over.

But when she's actually upset, like panicking over losing Adrien upset, or breaking down cos Ladybug chose another hero with a known identity over her (Said by Kagami in the episode so we can't pretend it's not true). Chloe usually builds up to a brief explosion followed by a collapse, or just collapses outright into a panicked, curled up state. One that in one instance seemed to be intentionally drawing comparisons to an infant, but again give what we know that says less about her & more about Andre.

Basically, Chloe's life is a performance, we rarely see the real her, because she's always trying to play a role she thinks she's meant to, in order to be liked and successful & is confused, hurt and lonely because it's not working the way her family promises or demonstrated it would.

I also think it's interesting how Marinette & Kagami both firmly instruct her to stop bothering about seating arrangements. Like, we see he react to insults and anger with anger back, but those firm instructions seemed to make her actually inclined to listen, or at least intimidate rather than rile her up.

Also on the insults front, I think it's notable with the pariah angle that Chloe did basically become an open target. No, she doesn't do herself any favors, but her efforts to do video assignments, or participate in art class getting naught but degrading insults. Or her simply not participating in Madame Bustier's birthday causing the class to collectively tear into her says a lot.

Also much like with Damocles, Chloe getting away with mean-ness is not a Chloe thing, the other students get away with it too. At most getting a mild "Well that was kind of mean" which gets shrugged off.

So again we are back into one rule for Chloe another rule for everyone else, which engenders sympathy or frustration in many of the audience. 

Also I find her & Adrien's friendship conceptually fascinating. because like... Adrien outright admits that he totally understands sabotaging a train to try and win a parents love. Meaning he both can likely imagine himself doing the same and also does not grasp how fucked up it is to think one has to go to such insane lengths for someone who treats them like trash.

Am I speaking about Audrey or Gabriel?

Trick question, it's both!

As a sort of final cap off, I quite enjoy the fact that Chloe's so aggressively defiant. Yes she can get scared & panic, but like. She spent 95% of her Stoneheart kidnapping oscillating between bored, pissed off and irritated.

One can say it's a fight based trauma response and I agree, but it's also just a fun dynamic to have for a character who'd normally be relegated solely to screaming damsel.

So yeah, I think she's a fascinating character in concept and at times execution. Who subverts, twists and breaks expected tropes tied to her archetype in fascinating ways but who's handling leaves me wanting, I hope this was useful! 

@princess-of-the-corner @generalluxun @maestro04yayyy you might like this post too!

MAJOR EDIT!

I can't believe I went through Chloe's entire persona section & neglected to mention the fact that her efforts to flirt with guys always come off as so awkward and in-genuine compared to her enthusiastic adoration of Ladybug.

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I feel like Crowley and Aziraphale are both about The Pleasures, but in similar and yet different ways.

Aziraphale's enjoyment is obvious -- he loves the food, he loves the drinks, he loves collecting physical things that remind him of things he enjoys. I think that these things are all more about the physical experience of them -- he enjoys cake because it physically tastes good, he enjoys hot cocoa because it does all those things Jimbriel talked about.

He turned his psychological safe space (Crowley) into his literal physical safe space (red & yellow bookshop -- *shiver*). He loves his clothes and they make him feel safe. He physically takes care of his clothes and maintains them, rather than making them appear out of the ether or cheating his way out of a stain.

Crowley is similar, but I think it's more conceptual for him.

He doesn't reject food -- we see him eating popcorn at the movies -- but I think it's more about the experience than it is the popcorn itself. Popcorn is an essential part of the experience, thus he has it. And speaking of movies, he's canonically heavily involved in media -- he enjoys partaking in, shaping, sharing the story of the human experience.

He doesn't reject worldly items, but the few he has seem to have deep emotional meaning to him. He has plants, living symbols of his pride, a physical metaphor for working through what happened to him. Otherwise, it's what's "cool". His apartment changes with the times, because it's not about how that specific stuff makes him feel, it's about the experience of staying in the modern era. Same with his clothes -- it's not about the exact outfit, it's how the outfit contributes to his experience of the world and his persona.

The Bentley is similar, though it is one physically object that he hasn't traded up through the years. I do wonder -- if Aziraphale had the Bentley, would it go a hundred years without needing gas, or would he be filling up every so often and dutifully maintaining every routine precisely on schedule? Even though it's a physical object, it still represents to Crowley the experience of being in control, and the physical maintenance of the object isn't really that important to him.

Drinking is especially curious to explore. They both like to do it, but Aziraphale seems to have very particular tastes. I think they both have their favorites, but it seems to me the drinking tends to be about the physical experience of doing it for Aziraphale, while for Crowley it tends to be about the emotional experience of altering one's mind and the method isn't particularly important.

I suspect physical affection might be the same way. I think physical touch is very important to Aziraphale because it feels good -- he likes putting his hands on Crowley, he likes staring and admiring his physical form, he likes dancing and moving to the music with him. I don't think Crowley would need it in quite the same way. I think it would be part of the experience of being in a relationship (e.g., he would like that it makes Aziraphale happy, he understands at the end of S2 the message he is conveying with the kiss) but I think the experience of their emotional exchange ("I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny back. It's great!") creates that same feeling of closeness.

What might also be interesting is how those things look compared to their respective backgrounds.

Heaven is and always has been empty and devoid of things. The supreme Archangel doesn't even have a desk. It's all about the experience of being an angel, knowing one's place in the hierarchy, performing one's role. Gabriel likes the clothes because they make him feel more powerful and we can see that when he's being demoted from the position and he asks about his clothes.

Hell, by contrast, is cluttered and full of things. Things that are broken, things that don't belong, too many things that are just crowded and awful and everywhere. Everyone is someone's boss, everyone is someone's underling, and even orders from Beelzebub can't muster up more than a few dozen demons for Shax out of the millions of demons that are always loitering everywhere. Even a Duke of Hell has to stand by a leaky pipe with a bucket, his status means nothing.

On the flip side, Aziraphale's status as an angel means permanence. He has only ever known Heaven, and he has only ever known one side of Heaven (which is that you don't ask questions or you get in trouble -- he knew this before even Crowley did). I can see why he would find comfort in permanent things, like maintaining physical possessions that don't just up and change.

Crowley's experience as a demon sees that nothing is permanent, and everything can be taken away from you in an instant. You might be an esteemed usher at a trial, but you could still find yourself tossed in a tub of holy water on a whim. Here and now is the only guarantee. Your thoughts are the only things that you really have (though it will be interesting to see if an angelic memory wipe ever comes into play and what that means -- but I suspect it would make his thoughts and experiences even more precious for him to hang onto). He had his identity ripped away from him, of course his emotional identity is important to him now.

Overall, they both enjoy the world in very similar ways, but for Aziraphale I think it's based more in the physical emotion of the thing, and for Crowley the conceptual emotion of the thing. There's a lot of overlap (there's aspects of both physical/conceptual in his they both enjoy things) but that's them in general -- a little bit of each other in both of their personalities.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Anonymous asked: I have a few questions as an aspiring writer and a current fanfic writer who publishes.

Okay! But if you write fan-fiction, you're already a writer! I'm guessing you mean an aspiring author? ♥

How would you help with distractions and writer's block? I try to dedicate myself to writing, but then I wander off to other stuff and my motivation wanes.

This is not uncommon and there can be a lot of different reasons for why it happens. Understanding the reason behind why it's happening is important for knowing how to fix it. I have a couple posts that will help with this:

5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Feeling Unmotivated with WIP Writer’s Block

How do you advise me outlining a huge original story plot with world-building in an organized way that isn't just scattered?

Outlining is really just any method that helps you get all the important pieces of the story out, in order, so that you can use it as a reference while writing. Some people use one big beginning to end summary. Some people like scene lists or timelines. Other people like scene cards or mind maps... Different things work for different people, so part of the work you need to do as a writer is figure out which method/methods work best for you.

I often find, though, that the struggle people have with outlining is less about what method to use and more about how to actually fill out the details, which brings me around to plot and story structure. All stories have structure. Fan-fiction is often short, character-driven fiction, which gives it a different structure from the average novel. That said, even if you're a prolific fan-fiction writer, you may still need to take some time to learn about plot and story structure. I'll link a few posts that will help, but once you understand story structure (all the specific plot points a story should go through), it becomes much easier to know how to outline it.

Guide: How to Outline a Plot Guide: Starting a New (Long Fiction) Story Basic Story Structure Beginning a New Story How to Move a Story Forward Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories Understanding Goals and Conflict

What advice would you give for writing fictional religions and mythology?

First and foremost, it's important to understand the role religion and mythology play in your story... how do they feed into your characters' beliefs? How do they influence your characters' actions and behavior? How do they guide the forces of power in your story's world? How do they impact the story's conflict/s and plot? Ultimately, you don't want to put a lot of time into creating and fleshing out a religion or mythology that's ultimately unimportant to the story. It helps to focus most on the aspects that truly matter.

Also, you might consider using real world mythology and religions as inspiration... just be careful about cultural appropriation. It's best not to use anything that belongs to an active culture or religion unless it's yours, or unless you do intense research and consult with sensitivity readers to make sure you don't do anything harmful.

And lastly, what sources do you recommend to accurately describe buildings (especially castles and manors) battlefields, geographical locations especially when it comes to mountains and rivers, etc), dresses and clothing especially if it isn't modern, and fighting techniques that are believable (for example, how a smaller woman would fight a larger man without being unrealistic)?

1 - Find Inspiration Sources - No matter when and where your story is set, it's important to find inspiration sources for the places in your story, whether that's buildings, towns, regions, whatever. Not only will this help you imagine and describe what you're envisioning, it will help you immensely with research on specific details.

2 - Time and Place Are Important - Many descriptive details are specific to time and place, so make sure you know that about your inspiration sources and/or the elements in your story. You can do a Google search for layout, architecture, and design (along with relevant location and era information) to find the details you need. For example, "medieval European castle layout" or "Victorian era manor house architectural details." Likewise, you can look for "Tudor era menswear" or "Victorian era dress details."

3 - Fighting Techniques - This again will tie into the time and place when your story is set. However, some fighting techniques will be somewhat timeless. I would strongly suggest heading over to @howtofightwrite for the best information and resources about portraying fighting techniques in writing.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[yslende]

cabin 16 ー children of nemesis headcanons

| author's note: yeah i only really made this because i figured out that nemesis would be my godly parent. quite a few of these are based on me. probably not going to do any more of these, if only because i'd be unable to emulate this amount of detail again.

vindictive. do i even need to say it.

ambidextrous. the lot of them.

all of them have stares that seem like they look right through you. 

insane resting bitch and poker faces. nothing shows unless they explicitly let it.

⬆️ however, any emotion they feel, they feel it STRONGLY. happiness? more like euphoria. sadness? more like depression. annoyance? more like fury. (the furies *wish* they had what nemesis kids do.)

they're the type of people to be fashionable by default because all they wear is black, red, and Leather Jacket (which is a color in itself.)

⬆️ despite this, they don't mind the camp shirts, if only because everyone else is wearing them.

three options: read rulebooks for fun, be the reason rules are created, or both. 

they treat death like a trip to the dentist: an unpleasant inevitability. 

unshakeable loyalty. once you've got a nemesis demigod on your side, they'll follow you to tartarus and back.

⬆️ likewise, if you harm them or their friends, there is nothing they won't do to get back at you. nothing is beneath them. be terrified.

natural skeptics. nemesis is a daughter of nyx, so some of her kids have likely been to the underworld. they've met shades. even so, they'll passionately argue against the existence of ghosts.

weirdly good memory. of course, they remember every insult said about them, but they also remember how many arrows you shot into the woods at archery practice last tuesday. especially good with remembering strings of letters or numbers.

⬆️ they're some of the few demigods that can do math. they do it for fun, that's how bad it is.

really good at strategy, but often people don't go along with their plans. see: nothing is beneath them.

geese fucking love them. a common sight at chb is watching geese try and bite everyone's faces off, then trip over themselves to be pet like drugged cats by the nemesis cabin.

all super good at board games, especially chess, settlers of catan, and monopoly. uno skills are 50/50.

they're the type of people to save every deus ex machina item in a video game for later, and then proceed to never use them.

great sense of balance. they're great at tightropes, and can do triple pirouettes (a type of turn in ballet) easily. they like perching in trees and watching during capture the flag if they're not fighting.

if you're unwilling to debate or close-minded, be prepared to find spiders in your underwear. *especially* if you're an athena kid.

⬆️ probably have a tarantula as a cabin pet, named 'houdini,' because he keeps ""escaping"" to the athena cabin. it's super unfortunate like that.

⬆️ they also probably have a favorite wild goose, too. 

there are no extroverted nemesis demigods. if one seems like an extrovert, they're either in denial or masking super hard.

they're the type of people to do all of the group project work alone. they have no patience for anyone who can't pull their weight.

each have their own methods of organization. if you touch their stuff you will die. they always know.

can't sleep without the ends of their blankets tucked underneath the mattress and the sides perfectly even. it just feels off to them.

socialism. communism. literally anything except pro-capitalist. look at me in my face and tell me i'm wrong.

optimistic pessimism? very 'the glass is half-empty, but at least there's something in there' vibes.

about as blunt as a club. if you want the brutal truth, ask a nemesis kid about your swordsmanship. you'll come out crying.

they take things very literally. jokes often fly over their head, but they catch sarcasm and veiled insults faster than hermes runs. 

always take things seriously. even things that aren't supposed to be taken seriously. like 'packing rocks in snowballs' seriously.

all of them despise bullies with all of their being. there isn't a nemesis demigod who won't introduce their knee to a bully's crotch for fun. hades, they'll *pay* you to let them do it.

their fighting skills and athleticism increase when serving justice, revenge, or vengeance. like normally, they're really good, but then someone steals their marshmallow or something and then they get REALLY good.

like to put extra effort into scaring and prank new campers before being nice to them. trial by fire, i guess.

however, after the inital hazing, they protect unclaimed kids with their lives. again, see: nothing is beneath them.

want to know everything, including but not limited to why you didn't put any grapes on your plate to every single reason why your godly parent acts the way they do towards you. once again, see: nothing is beneath them.

fight best with either a sword or a shield, but they're especially good with both. 

(sidenote: their favorite swords would probably be executioners' swords, which imo are super fucking cool. their favorite shields would probably be aspis (roman: clipeus) but specifically the ones with faces or figures carved in them.)

nemesis isn't a super caring mother tbh. she punishes her children mercilessly if they do something wrong or malicious. however, likewise, she praises them lavishly whenever they complete a quest or do something that demonstrates the power of cabin 16.

⬆️ her kids either have huge problems with authority or zero problems with authority. most swing wildly between the two, but that's what balance means, right?

friends with cabins: 1, 5, 8, 13, 15, 20

chill with cabins: 3, 9, 12, 14, 17, 19

does not get along with cabins: 4, 6, 7, 10, 11, 18