#i want to write. and draw. and feel. i want to be cleaner more organized. i want to read more

[asiananeurysm]

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[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 9 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: magical near-death experience, language, confrontation wc: 4.3k

Back in your rooms, you and Namjoon stand, each processing quietly and a bit lost in thought.

“You should try to get a little more sleep,” he finally suggests. “You need to be at your sharpest.”

You nod absently, but your mind is flying through everything you’d uncovered in the ritual.

“I need to write down what I found,” you say, but your eyes are closed and you feel yourself swaying a little. “Before I forget.”

“Sit down,” Namjoon instructs, moving to the table to find paper and a pen in the mess you’d left strewn there. “Tell me what you found and I’ll write it.”

You do as you’re told and then head to your room for a few hours to sleep, making sure to keep the lamp - which has been replaced already since your mishap this morning - lit as you do.

Not that light does anything to keep an Infracti away. But it helps your mind to not create monsters out of shadows.

You emerge hours later, a bit groggy but certainly steadier on your feet. Namjoon isn’t in the main rooms and his door is closed, so you leave him be.

You check the time - it’s late afternoon, the seconds ticking you closer to early evening - and settle onto a cushion near the papers you and Namjoon had been writing on.

You’re almost through writing a more organized document of what you’ve discerned since the beginning - the threads you’re absolutely certain of, the counters you think most likely to be fruitful - when Namjoon emerges from his room, eyes squinting against the light and one hand raking through messy bedhead.

“What time is it?” he mutters, making his way towards one of the couches.

You glance at the clock and realize that dinnertime has come and gone. “Late,” you say. “I forgot to eat. Are you hungry?”

You send for dinner and start to go over what you were working on while Namjoon slept.

“With the ritual done, I’m more confident that we’ve identified every thread,” you muse, eyes scanning the pages spread out before you. “So now it’s really a matter of finding the correct counters.”

“That’s a relief,” Namjoon says.

You run a finger down the page, looking for a note you’d made. “I was thinking about the end of life thing,” you tell him. “Weren’t you saying, back when we got here, that life and death magic can be used to weave other threads? Do you think the person who cast the curse used the end of life thread to… make it cleaner - simpler to cast?”

Namjoon doesn’t answer this right away, but keeps tapping his finger on the table, a sign that he’s thinking hard about this. 

“I don’t know,” he says finally, eyes still on the paper. “Definitely a possibility. So then, would they not have meant that they wanted him to die? Was that choice simply for casting purposes?”

It’s clear that Namjoon is simply thinking out loud, but you answer, “You’re the death magic expert. You tell me.”

He shakes his head. “There are dozens of other ways. It had to be deliberate.”

“Does it matter? In terms of the countercurse?”

He grimaces. “If they intended the end of life, we have to directly counter that. If it was chosen for casting only, we could work around it.”

He slides to the floor to sit opposite you, and you look together at the papers, and for a while you work like this - pointing at certain lines of text, jotting notes, crossing others out, drawing arrows connecting ideas - until the paper looks like a complete disaster. But it makes sense to the two of you, and that’s what matters.

You’re just about to wrap it up for the night when there’s a knock at the main door. Before you can rise, Satuel opens it and tells you, “The Prince would like a word.”

Prince Taehyung steps around her, and she retreats into the corridor, closing the door behind her. He looks drawn, troubled, but you’re struck - as usual - by his otherworldly beauty.

“I wanted to speak to the two of you,” he says quietly. He perches on the arm of the closest couch, long legs stretched out before him. “About what happened today.”

You and Namjoon exchange an uneasy look.

“My father sent a diplomatic team to the Scores,” he reports. “Their directive was to express that there was some sort of magical attack on the royal family, and to gauge the reaction. But it is not a direct accusation.”

You nod slowly, listening.

Prince Taehyung takes a deep breath and continues. “He also sent a team of spies,” he says carefully. “To see what they can uncover. The diplomats… their information may be useful, it may not. But if we are knocking on their front door to make inquiries, it will hopefully distract them from who is climbing through the window. So to speak.”

“Do you really think it was them?” you ask, hushed.

Prince Taehyung twists his mouth. “They do seem to be the most likely,” he admits. “But my personal feelings are more complicated. At any rate, I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on. An accusation was not made… but it would appear that they read it as one anyway. None of the families from the Scores attended our dinner tonight.”

You and Namjoon look at him in silence. You’re not sure you’re understanding - is it such a big deal that a few families didn’t show up for dinner?

“Invited guests haven’t just not shown without at least communicating in… my entire life, so over six hundred years,” Prince Taehyung clarifies.

“Oh,” you utter, feeling your stomach sink a little. “That’s… pretty bad, right?”

Suddenly the prince’s grim demeanor makes sense.

“It’s certainly a sign of trouble brewing,” the prince admits. “I wanted to let you know just… I don’t want you to be more frightened, and I promise you’re safe in these rooms… but you should know what’s going on.”

You take this in silently, glancing sideways at Namjoon. He looks just how you feel - nervous, on edge, but trying to keep a blank face in front of the prince.

“I’m sorry,” Prince Taehyung says emphatically, and you turn back to him. “I know you were already uneasy here. I don’t want to make it worse. But I felt very strongly that you should be kept informed.”

“No, I appreciate it,” you assure him. "We’ll be… even more careful. I guess this means no more trips to visit Potato?”

He smiles at this, a bit wryly. “I’m afraid not. At least for a few days. Let’s see how this shakes out. Maybe they’ll let tonight’s insult speak for itself, and we can all move on.”

“You don’t sound very optimistic about that possibility,” Namjoon remarks.

Prince Taehyung shrugs. “I wasn’t alive for any of the wars for power,” he admits. “But my parents, and those older than them - they remember. Thousands of years of bitter fighting, all for the throne.”

He sighs. “It was foolish of us, I’m sure, to think this peace would last - that one little pebble wouldn’t send the whole pile toppling. But it isn’t your problem. Where do we stand with the curse, after this morning’s ritual?”

You hurry to fill him in - that you’re feeling more confident that everything has been identified, and that your task now is to determine all the proper counters.

“How soon do you think you could make a reasonable attempt?” he asks, seeming to grasp without being told that the countercurses will come through trial and error.

You look down at your papers, as if they might provide an answer to this. It stings a little, that he’s hurrying you along. But you know how ridiculous it is for you to feel that way - of course he wants you to hurry. He wants the curse to end, he wants his life back, he wants to send you home to safety as tensions rise between the Infracti families.

“A day or two?” you guess finally.

Prince Taehyung nods. “Very well. I’ll be quite busy tomorrow, but I’ll make sure to check in.”

He wishes you both goodnight and departs through the main door, leaving you and Namjoon in tense silence.

“We do need to hurry,” he says quietly after a minute or two. “I have a feeling things are only going to get worse, here.”

“We can’t rush the process,” you argue, though at the heart of the issue you know you agree. “Sloppy magic equals death.”

“I’m not suggesting we do it sloppily,” Namjoon clarifies slowly, as if he is speaking a second language to you and needs to mentally translate each word first. And, in a way, that might be exactly what’s happening. “I’m not saying we have to be ready to go tomorrow. But things are becoming less safe, and that’s me saying that - not the team member who currently can’t sleep with the lights off.”

You feel your face heat. He’s right - of course he’s right. Things weren’t safe to begin with.

“I’m just saying that we need to keep trying to make forward progress,” he says seriously. “We can’t just spin our wheels.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, still embarrassed. “So… come on. Let’s figure out what we’ll try first.”

You settle back at the table, grabbing a pen, refusing to look up at Namjoon, who still watches you from where he’s standing. Eventually he joins you, and you work until near midnight, not stopping until you have three potential countercurses to try.

And then, when Namjoon disappears into his rooms, you slink into your own and practice defensive spells until you’re tired enough to curl up and try for sleep.

—

When you wake, late morning, you ask Satuel to inform the prince that you have countercurses you’re willing to try.

She comes back with your breakfast and news.

“The royal family will allow you to conduct an attempt at a countercurse in about an hour,” she tells you. “I’ll escort you when it’s time. They’re a bit wrapped up right now.”

You latch onto this, looking at her sharply. You don’t expect her to divulge anything, and you’re surprised when she glances over her shoulder and then lowers her voice as she sets down your breakfast tray.

“The Scores’ diplomatic team returned early this morning with a message,” she whispers. “Essentially, publicly objecting to any implication that they would, or did, orchestrate any kind of attack against the Runes.”

“Of course they object,” you say, reaching for the pot of coffee before she’s even placed the tray down. “Why would they admit it, even if it was them? They aren’t that stupid.”

“Maybe they are,” she mutters, voice even quieter. You strain to hear her. “They also made a public statement against the King.”

You sit back, coffee pot forgotten, looking at her with wide eyes. “They what?”

She nods, her own black eyes wide like yours. It seems this news has rattled her - something that’s shocking to see.

“What kind of statement?” you ask.

She glances towards the door again, and then smiles sheepishly when she notices you clocking this. “It isn’t a secret,” she explains. “I just don’t want to be misunderstood as gossiping. You are living here, for now. This affects you, too.”

She takes a deep breath and tells you, “The Scores, backed by the Cleaves and two other powerful families, have sent a joint statement accusing the crown of conspiracy, corruption, and the unlawful murder of humans.”

Your blood runs cold, and you press your palms to the tabletop to ground yourself. “Could… Do you think there’s truth to it?”

Satuel presses her lips together. “I am loyal to the crown,” she says, which is not an answer at all.

Or maybe it is.

You’re thinking, suddenly, of those videos your students had been watching back home, how they had been explaining a newsroom theory that there were orchestrated attacks happening.

You’re thinking of Prince Taehyung telling you his family had covered up his murders, wiped memories and erased entire lives from the world’s history.

You’re thinking that such accusations could not possibly be lightly made.

You’re thinking of Namjoon, back in Dr. Kim’s office on campus, saying the words Infracti Civil War.

Your skin crawls.

Satuel seems to understand.

“You’re safe as long as you’re in your rooms,” she promises. “As long as you’re with me, or Dansoo, or the prince - you’re safe.”

You note that she doesn’t list the King or Queen.

An hour later, you and Namjoon follow her through the palace, with Dansoo bringing up the rear. They take you back to the room where you’d tried the first cure, less than a week ago, when Prince Taehyung had been very nearly knocked out.

It feels different this time. You feel the weight of expectation as the King and Queen watch you impassively. You’re sure they’re remembering the last attempt - their son’s legs giving out, your own meager attempts to explain why it hadn’t been a complete failure.

That’s fine - you don’t care if they trust you. You don’t trust them - you barely did to begin with, and that sliver has only gotten smaller and smaller in the time you’ve been here.

The last time you’d tried a countercurse, you’d known that the chances were very slim that it would work - the best you’d been hoping for had been more information.

This time, it could work. It could.

Prince Taehyung faces you, frowning slightly.

“It won’t hurt you this time,” you promise him quietly, and a corner of his mouth quirks, amused at being read correctly.

Do you trust him? The question pops into your head unbidden.

You flatten your hands over the paper in front of you, scanning the list of incantations meant to call forth his magic, his healing, his life and twist them into a weapon. You double-check that each thread is accounted for. You repeat the trickier phrases, letting your tongue get accustomed to them.

You watch the prince shift nervously, still frowning slightly, his hands defensively shoved into his pockets. When he notices you still watching him, he gives a tiny, sheepish smile, something almost shy in it.

Yeah, you think. Maybe it will be your undoing, maybe it will be your downfall. But you do.

You wish you could talk to him before this - alone, without the audience of his parents and Namjoon. You want to ask him about the Scores, you want to reassure him that he’s going to be okay.

“Are you ready, Maiesti?” you ask gently, doing your best to pretend it’s only you and him.

He licks his lips nervously and nods, stepping closer.

You glance at Namjoon, suddenly nervous, and he gives you a reassuring nod. You ignore the King and Queen, wishing they weren’t there at all.

“Okay,” you whisper, holding up a hand. Taehyung presses his palm to yours, cool and solid. “Okay, let’s go.”

You begin the series of spells a bit unsteadily, your voice small and nervous. But it takes less than two minutes for your magic to rise up, filling you with warmth and purpose and confidence. You continue, emboldened.

You feel your magic touch Taehyung’s, a bit hesitantly at first, and then entwining itself easily and happily, as if they fit perfectly together and only needed to settle in.

You continue chanting, eyes scanning the words slowly so you don’t mess up. You can feel it working, can feel the curse resisting - but your choices seem to be correct, and you can feel the curse unraveling, weakening, thread by thread as the countercurse peels them away.

You feel a thrill within you as you recognize success, and you struggle to remain calm, lest you slip on a word and let it all go to waste. Taehyung’s hand twitches against yours, and you wonder if he can feel it too - the curse loosening its grip, bit by bit. You want to watch his face, want to watch him realize it, want to see him the second he’s set free.

You want to smile at him, victorious, proud, so happy to give him what he needs.

You cannot take your eyes off the paper. You cannot miss a syllable.

Something tugs low in your stomach, and the thrill vanishes faster than light. You continue speaking, following the words on the page, but you feel your eyes widen.

The tug comes again.

The curse is fighting back. The unraveling you could feel suddenly feels stuck, snagged. Something isn’t right. Something isn’t right.

You’ve made a mistake, you’ve missed something.

You hear your voice catch and freeze as your limbs go rigid. The curse crawls into your magic, digs its claws in. You cry out in pain, eyes squeezing shut.

You think you hear someone call your name - you can’t tell. You’re trying to unravel your magic from Taehyung’s, to get distance between yourself and the curse, to wiggle free from those claws of ill-intent.

You can’t seem to. You can feel it taking over and you try to force your eyes open, to ask for help, but you can’t see anymore - the room is black, and all you hear now is the roar of static in your ears.

You feel the room shift, a pain in your shoulder. You may have fallen - you can’t see so you can’t be sure. You gasp for breath, but you’re finding it harder. You’re not sure it’s working, you can’t tell if you’re inhaling, you can’t feel the exhale.

Then, the pain stops, the panic stops, the static goes quiet.

You can’t feel anything anymore, good nor bad.

All you can hear is crashing ocean waves, the wild whinnies of amarisca as they gallop into the sea.

—

Taehyung sits at your bedside - the side of his bed, technically - your fragile, mortal hand in his.

Mostly, you seem to be sleeping peacefully, and Taehyung tries to have faith in his own healing abilities, in Namjoon’s promises that he’d severed the magical connection in time. But every now and then your body shudders, as if working hard to expel a poison, and it makes Taehyung’s chest clench every time. He hunches over, smoothing back your hair, listening to your heart thump faster and then quiet again as your body stills.

All he can do is listen to your heart.

–

It was a year ago, when he’d found everything out. He’d been nauseous, damn near dizzy from the knowledge: his own father, orchestrating attacks on the human world. Covering the tracks. Framing other families.

How many innocent lives had he allowed to be lost? Knowingly - purposely?

The better question was why. And Taehyung hated unanswered questions.

He’d found his father in his wing, luckily alone.

King Sunjae had raised his brows, surprised to see his son, unannounced.

“What brings you here?” he’d asked.

Taehyung had felt hollow, heavy. This truth was too terrible to bear. He didn’t want to lay this accusation at his father’s feet. He didn’t want to argue against denials. He didn’t want to demand answers, reasons.

He wanted to be able to turn back time, to never let this happen at all. He wanted to sleep comfortably at night knowing his own negligence wasn’t to blame, that his inattention hadn’t let this come to pass without his knowledge, for who knows how long.

He couldn’t make himself speak, couldn’t force the words off of his tongue. In the time he was silent, the King seemed to piece it together, his expression darkening.

“Don’t make trouble, Taehyung,” he’d warned.

Taehyung had closed his eyes, shook his head. He’d wondered if ghosts were real, if his father could be haunted by the humans he had lowered into prey.

“I want to know the reason,” he’d finally said, his voice effectless.

His father had seemed thrown off that Taehyung had bygone any actual accusation. It wasn’t necessary, Taehyung thought. They both knew what they knew.

The King laughed once, sardonically. “You’ve always been innocent,” he’d scoffed. “That’s why I never involved you in this. Go back to your rooms, Taehyung, go back to playing piano and riding amarisca and whatever else it is you concern yourself with. I’ll handle the matters of state, as I always have.”

Taehyung swallowed against the assaulting words, the weight of their truth. He shook his head. “I need to know the reason.”

The King was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he turned away from his son, pacing closer to the window, which overlooked much of the valley below.

“For us,” he’d answered, and Taehyung had stared at his back, trying desperately to understand. “For the throne.”

“That’s bullshit,” Taehyung had said, nearly gagging over the word, stomach twisting with disgust and regret and horror and devastation. “Our power is not in danger. Our throne is not in danger.”

“You’re naive. It’s not your fault - you’re young. You weren’t alive for the wars - thousands of years of war, Taehyung, the crown bouncing from Cleave, to Score, to Rune, around and around - but I was. They were bloody, they were unending. Humans died for our wars as much as Infracti. The throne is always in danger, my son. It will always be in danger.”

“How can you think that?” Taehyung demanded hotly. “The law is written entirely in our favor - the crown stays in our bloodline. There’s no wiggle room, there’s no loophole. And our bloodline is fine.”

“Is it?” the King retorted. “After me, the crown is yours. Then, what? You’re over six hundred years old, Taehyung, and you’ve never brought forth a serious consideration for your queen.”

“Is that what this is about?” Taehyung had cried, even more aghast than he’d started. “I’ll marry - is that what you want? I’ll marry tomorrow if it means you’ll stop.”

The King had scoffed again, finally turning to face him, his expression radiating disappointment. Well, Taehyung was no stranger to that - not after six hundred years. “You aren’t serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” Taehyung had said, and meant every word. He’d beg if he had to beg, he’d cheat if he had to cheat, he’d marry if he had to marry - anything to stop his father. “It has to stop. This can’t be what we stand for. You can end it, or I will end it - and I don’t care how that happens.”

“Quit talking nonsense,” the King had snapped, eyes narrowed.

“I mean every word,” Taehyung had said, his undead heart galloping in his chest. “Our people were once only animals. Time and time again through history we have wavered, flirting with becoming simply the animal again. You want to secure the Runes’ hold on the throne? I want to secure the Runes’ humanity. If you need me to marry, I’ll marry. You have to stop this. Swear it.”

The King had looked at him for a long time, appraising, evaluating. Finally, very seriously he said, “If you’ll start looking for a wife - seriously looking - then I’ll put a stop to it today. But I have to see you trying.”

Taehyung had spent the next year courting the girls his father picked out. He’d meant his promise, but none of them touched him, none of them spoke to his soul.

Then you had shown up - braver than anyone he’d ever meant, so powerful it was scary, humble, and mouthy, and foolish, and alive - and when his father had suggested he keep you around… he hadn’t hated the idea.

He could see you as queen. He could see you by his side.

He just had to keep you alive long enough to see how you’d feel about the idea.

It was proving to be harder than he’d thought.

—

You come back bit by bit.

You can feel again first. Your shoulder throbs, and your head is splitting. You feel unbearable thirst, like you haven’t had water in days.

You feel someone’s hand clutching yours, feel their grasp tighten when you wiggle your fingers in theirs.

Then, you can hear again - the ocean waves are still breaking, distantly. The murmur of low, familiar voices. You hear someone say your name, deep and sweet, like your own little song.

Then, not much later, your sight returns - blurry, coming into focus as you blink against the sudden brightness.

At first, all you can see is purple sky. You turn your head to see your hand resting on top of the heavy comforter.

It occurs to you that this is not your bed. It is large, comfortable, facing a wall of windows - this is how you could see so much sky.

The hand holding yours retreats, and you follow the movement as you flex your now-empty fingers.

Prince Taehyung peers at you, face drawn. There is no one else in the room with you.

For a moment, just for a second, you feel like you are looking at each other simply person to person - your roles, your duties, your prejudices, your wants and needs, your fears… all the things that you each carry every time you spend time together, they seem to be held at bay. Just for now.

“Is it true?” you ask him. You’re not sure why this is the question you ask. “Is any of it true?”

His eyes - humanlike, as always, although it is a lie - stay on yours as he slowly nods. “Yes,” he whispers. “But don’t worry. I’ve been trying to fix it since before you came. I’m going to make it better.”

You’d said almost the same words to him, about his curse.

He takes your hand again, and you inhale sharply.

He lets out a huff of a quiet laugh. “I really thought we’d lost you,” he murmurs. Then, he brings your hand to his mouth and presses his lips gently to the back of your hand.

For one terrifying, lightning-quick second, you thought he was going to bite you.

This is your last thought before things go dark once again.

<;- Prev | Next ->

thanks so much for reading!!! the next few chapters are among my faves :') looking forward to posting!

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

UNTITLED EVIL LUIGI AU COMIC THING | Page 2 & 3 of (???)

Eggman Bowser’s come to make an announcement. Particularly to shut down any premonitions Mario may be holding onto a little too tightly. Bowser and Mario are able to set aside their differences (for now, at least) so that they can work together on a common goal-- figuring out where the hell Luigi is.

(A/N under cut)

---

believe me when i say i really wanted to link all the pages together in a neat, practical way so that everything would appear more organized than it actually is, but tumblr hates me and won’t let my posts show up in the tags if i include a hyperlink of any kind. :D

i read somewhere that tumblr only disallows posts from showing up in tags if it includes an external link (vs an internal/link to another tumblr page), which, in theory, shouldnt be an issue since the pages i’d be linking to are also on tumblr but regardless it’s not cooperating with me anyway. i’ve been on tumblr for what feels like a million years but this is the first time ive tried to make my posts cohesive like this so if anyone knows how to fix this issue im all ears 🙃 for the record, everything related to this au will be going into the following tags on my blog: #my art, and #evil luigi au. we’ll just have to sort things that way for now, i guess 😭

i start work tomorrow so can’t say when there will be a new page but i do have a lot planned out already. so hopefully i’ll be able to continue what ive started for at least a handful of more pages 🤠 next page will be fun to work on. for a bowuigi-centered story, where’s the luigi?! he’ll show up soon. just in the form of a flashback for now though 👀

also sorry if my handwriting is evil. it’s just personally easier/faster to write out everything by hand than type everything out but i may try to type the next page’s dialogue to see how it goes and to see if it makes things look ✨cleaner✨

(also also i spent so much time trying to figure out how to draw them doing a handshake for the “truce” panel. i ultimately failed. therefore.... fist bumps LMAO)

[lilith-little-world]

Could you please write some domestic headcanons for reader and wukong? Love your story btw^^ (or more like the concept lol)

Awww thank you, I wanted to do a slight twist to the isekai trope that explains how the reader got transported to another world. Although, the reader is far from the only one. She just happens to survive the transmigration... Kind of. I'm honestly kind of excited to start writing the first chapter soon. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Now to those domestic headcanons, hope there are no spelling errors, I manage to break my Grammarly keyboard every single time I write something-

(Don't you dare judge the quality I was rushing through so badly then I realized I forgot how to fucking draw. I'm going to post some art here, it's going to be meh quality just until I get used to drawing again.)

- At first, it took a good while for you guys to settle down in one place. With you enjoying the urban lifestyle. Since it made visiting shops, friends, and just having a fun day out way easier. Wukong prefers to be isolated, his only interactions being mostly with Mk and you. However, after Wukong complains for the 100th time, you move to Flower Fruit Mountain under the condition he takes you out every few days into the city and that your friends can come and visit every once in a while.

- Surprisingly, he tries to renovate and spruce things up. House feeling a little small? Want a room for your things specifically? He and his clones will start making preparations (Also maybe ask Mk and the gang for help on what exactly to do and if he's desperate enough, he'll ask DBK for some advice.) Slowly but surely, the once small hut becomes more home-like. Then when you're both satisfied, he'll move on making the pathway to the house to the entrance of the waterfall. Cleaning up any debris or rumble of pillars and crumbling murals of the past. It was by your constant nagging that he restores it, getting rid of vines and moss.

- Other than wandering around or chilling at the house you literally have nothing to do. As much as it was a nice thought of spending most of the day doing your hobby, you physically don't have enough willpower to do it every day. One day while laying around, you noticed how dusty and unorganized the house truly was. So that is how you got stuck with cleaning and keeping things organized. Yet that didn't stop there, you noticed small things like a creaky loose floorboard. That you managed to fix after searching for how to on your phone. The sink isn't draining properly, drain cleaner is already on the need-to-buy list. The problem still not solve, time to put in some elbow grease and hope you won't get too dirty.

- However, you're definitely not touching his little hoard that he has been collecting over the centuries. The last thing you want is to release some ancient curse or break something that was once important.

- He can't cook, don't even try to make him, you don't want another fire, so get that cookbook open and pray you made something edible. Over the months you had gotten better, but there's much to improve. Yet, complete failure or not, Wukong still tries it out since he is immortal, it won't kill him, and the last thing he wants is for you to get seriously sick from food poisoning. If the food was not edible, then he's either going to get takeout or you both are going out to eat, give him a few minutes to throw up the abomination you created out his stomach.

- It's only fair that he washes the dishes. You make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's the least he can do. (That's if he still suffers from food poisoning, it's your turn to wash the dishes.) He picks up around the kitchen, any produce you left out back in the fridge. Spices in the cupboard in their usual spots. He knows you do a lot around the house, so it's now his turn to help.

- There's one chore you both do together, it's washing and putting the clothes away. You separate the clothing in their respective pile, while Wukong loads the washer. Whoever hears the washer finishes, loads the dryer, (cough you cough). Then when the loads are done, you guys come together and fold the clothes. While watching tv to pass the time. Although Wukong likes to make a big scene whenever he grabs your underwear or bra, it was only natural that you do the same with his boxers. You guys now know each other's undergarments and clothes sizes after that. Well, it makes shopping easier.

- Wukong kept his word and takes you to the city, and if you want a vacation away from the mountain. He got a temple ready to stay at and landmarks to show you. Over the years, he saw many things and wants to show you all of them. He never liked big crowds, so going to festivals was never his thing until he finds out you enjoy it. Well, looks like he's hanging out with the gang in the city, yaaay... Just make sure you're beside him for a good portion of the time there.

- He was a little hesitant about inviting the gang to the house, but he couldn't say no to both the student that he considers like his own son, Mk and his darling lover, the love of his life, you. In all honestly, Mk and you had already planned a day to bring the group over, and you guys decided to tell him last minute. Even though he would like a heads up, so he can reject the idea, strangely the simian doesn't mind. He had nearly forgotten that the mountain could feel so... warm and lively.

- Just be warned now that he has you beside him 24/7, this touch-starved monkey will be cuddling and kissing you, the first chance he gets. Don't fall for his tricks, he's a sneaky one.

- You made a small habit to groom his fur. Running your fingers through, him relaxing within your hold. If there's a comb or brush, you will get out any tangles or knots. His fur is now soft and fluffy and he is ready for pets and cuddles. You like to spoil him once in while.

- You guys hardly argue or fight, there was a time you even feared that the honeymoon phase will be over and then reality will hit. Yet it hasn't, maybe because Wukong is actually trying to be a better person so he can stay by your side. Also, he saw you angry once and he will do anything not to get on your bad side... again. Wukong tries to get your thoughts first and asks for people's advice, though he still has trouble speaking his ideas or thoughts. Being alone for centuries will do a lot of damage to a person’s psyche.

- So things are pretty peaceful, Wukong is opening up more and you managed to have a happy life despite the odds being against you. Now it's time to answer the question, will you become immortal and join Wukong for eternity, or prolonged/have your regular human lifespan? Sadly, Wukong wouldn't be able to handle your death. It will take all of his last remaining time to ever move on...

Wait a minute-

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Mattress Room

Prompt: I- hello? I come from Ao3 and it appears that you take requests/prompts? At least I didn't see anything indicating you weren't... Could you write some more Logan hurt/comfort? Maybe he's been getting better about not overworking himself, but maybe something is happening in Thomas' life (I know the winter holidays get really busy for me) and there's so much to do and he must finish it RIGHT NOW- and he just doesn't come out to do basic self-care for like a week. So naturally the others come to check on him (maybe returning to Remus hearing Logan's brain telling him to perform basic functions ("Why the f*ck are Lolo's intrusive thoughts telling him to eat?") necessary for survival?), and they all cat-pile. I've looked through like every Logan hurt/comfort on Ao3 and I'm somewhat addicted. Plus this would be a nice reminder that recovery's not linear, and even though things are getting better that still doesn't mean you're not still healing. You can just ignore this if you aren't taking requests, thanks anyways. Bye!

-Raven

Read on Ao3

Warnings: intrusive thoughts

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 3088

Surely, it has not escaped notice that the Sides, specifically Roman and Remus, have a habit of summoning mattresses seemingly out of nowhere. Where do they come from? Are they spontaneously generated? Or is there some hidden place where mattresses exist in an aether, only to appear in physical form once summoned?

An overworked Logan is the key to revealing this answer once and for all.

There’s a video script that needs to be edited so Roman can get onto redrafting before the deadline. There are applications that need to be filled out for insurance as the premiums have been redefined for this cycle and he needs to ensure Thomas won’t be overpaying. Gift lists and schedules have to be organized before the party this weekend. Second installment tax bills have been delayed so the payments have to be reallocated. 

The pile on Logan’s desk does not seem to decrease so much as shift around. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, quickly calculating the runoff from last year’s gift budget, before scribbling down a figure and setting the piece of paper aside. There are too many gift ideas, he’ll have to go through them with Roman to ensure they’re actually getting people what they want. Which means he needs to schedule another meeting with Roman. 

He glances over at his wall where the large calendar is. Most of the days have his tasks in neat, dark blue bullet points. A few have red bullet points as well—things that Roman has scheduled that he can’t infringe on—and there is one purple day every week for his check-in with Virgil. His eyes land on this weekend where the words ‘Holiday Party’ are written in black. 

Right next to a green blob that’s suddenly appeared out of nowhere. 

Remus. 

Logan muffles a curse and gets up, taking the cloth from where it’s magnetically stuck to the side of the board and wiping it away. It must’ve happened when Remus was here yesterday and they were coming up with new merchandise ideas. He asked Remus to be careful with the markers but accidents will happen. 

He frowns when no matter how hard he scrubs at the mark, it won’t come out. 

Did Remus bring another marker to this? Is that why this is hard? Or is there a prank war going on right now that he neglected to find out? He told them that he prefers to be left out of those, and even when he participates they should know his room is off-limits. There are too many things in there that would take a bit of good-spirited fun to actual feelings being hurt and he can’t have that, not when there are so many deadlines. 

Why isn’t this stain coming out?

Glancing around, he spots the bottle of cleaner and sprays it on the rag, careful to hold it away to avoid hitting the board by accident. He returns to scrubbing at the mark but no matter what he does, it doesn’t want to budge. 

Logan narrows his eyes and grabs his own blue marker. He draws a quick line in the corner and tries to wipe it off. It comes away without a trace. He goes back to trying to scrub at the green marker and barely stifles a growl when it won’t budge. 

The marker itself lies innocently in the tray with the rest of them. 

Maybe Remus accidentally replaced it with a permanent marker. He snatches it up, examining it, only to discover that no, it’s the same marker he’s always used. He does the same test, drawing a tiny experimental line on an out-of-the-way corner and wiping it off with the rag. 

It comes away clean. 

So then why is this massive green blob in the middle of his calendar refusing to go away?

He resists the urge to thunk his head against the wall, but only just barely.

“I don’t have time for this,” he mutters, turning away, trying to sit back down at his desk and get on with his work. 

But every time he looks up, he sees that stupid green blob out of the corner of his eye and it’s like an—

Well, it’s like an intrusive thought. How appropriate. No matter how hard he tries to force it from his mind—well, of course it doesn’t work. That’s not how you deal with intrusive thoughts. He would be better off just passively noticing it and not allowing it to interfere with what he’s doing. 

But he keeps seeing it. 

Over, and over, and over. 

As a true last resort, he turns his back on his calendar, putting his head down and propping his hand against his cheek, preventing him from turning any more to see it, glaring at the shopping list as though if he tried hard enough, the list would write itself. 

They need to go to multiple stores tomorrow. They need things from the normal grocery but they also need to stop at the other one that has a better pharmacy and they also need to go to the more expensive store because that’s the one that sells the good cheeses. 

When was the last time he ate something?

He shakes his head to clear it. Alright, so that’s that sorted, finally. That’s a task he can cross off his list and set aside. The next thing to worry about is holiday travel plans. A few of Thomas’s friends are leaving town to go and visit their families but they’ve also asked for a get-together beforehand. If they go by everyone’s most recent schedules, the Thursday evening after next would be the best time for everyone to gather, even if it’s only for a few hours. Odds are they won’t be staying out very late—or staying over very long—since there is another weekday but it ensures no one will have to wake up early to catch a fight. 

When was the last time he slept?

He needs to stop getting distracted. They’re a little bit behind schedule on video production. Of course, a lot of the longer projects are already underway and there’s not much they can do on those until after the holidays, but a few smaller ones have stagnated. Perhaps he can talk to Roman about those too, of course it’s natural for there to be a bit of a lull around the holidays when everything else is so busy but a progress report couldn’t hurt, right? Just in case it starts becoming a source of stress for Virgil because they haven’t touched the idea in so long. 

He startles when there’s a knock on his door. 

“One moment, please.”

Setting the notebooks and pen aside in any place they aren’t in immediate danger of falling off, he stands and adjusts his tie, making his way to the door. Opening it with an apology that he really can’t be disturbed right now, he fumbles when it isn’t who he expects to see. 

“Remus?”

“Hey, Lolo.” Remus waves. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” he’s saying before he realizes, standing aside, “come—come in.”

Remus walks in, hands shoved in his pockets—wait, Remus doesn’t normally have pockets like that—and glancing at Logan’s overflowing desk. “You look busy.”

“I am, in fact, quite busy, yes.” He shuffles a bit as he closes the door. “You know how the holidays are.”

“Mhm.”

He opens his mouth to ask Remus what he’s here for when he notices Remus looking at his calendar. Remus raises a finger and touches the green blob that started this whole mess, before looking over his shoulder. 

His shoulder that is absent of any green or black sparkly fabric. 

Ah. 

Well. 

“Um,” Logan stammers, “oops?”

Remus huffs a laugh and comes to stand in front of him, hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah, Lolo, ‘oops.’ Be glad it was me that came and not Janny.”

“I really didn’t mean to, you have my word, I simply—“

“Hey, hey.” His hands come up to rest on his shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just—you know how Janny can be about making you admit you’re not okay.”

Logan scoffs. “Yes, I am quite familiar with Janus’s technique for such a thing.”

Honestly, thank goodness it wasn’t Janus. That sounds horrible but the last thing Logan needs right now is someone to rile him up more. It’s liable to make him say things he doesn’t mean simply because he’ll get angry at Janus and want to hurt him—not like that, but he’ll be angry and he’s no good angry, he just needs to—

“Lolo, stay with me.”

He blinks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Remus squeezes his shoulders. “You wanna talk about it or do I have to sit on you?”

“…’sit’ on me?”

“You’re working too much and you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“And?”

Remus gives him a look. “And if I need to sit on you to physically prevent you from working, then I’m gonna do that.”

“Ah. I see.”

Remus nods, steering him over to the bed, away from his desk. “So talk to me, Lolo. What’s going on?”

Logan flaps a hand vaguely in the direction of the desk. “We have things to do.”

“Uh-huh. We have things to do. So why’re you trying to do them all yourself?”

“Because every time Janus tries to help with taxes it comes down to ‘eat the rich.’”

“Do you blame him?”

“No, but I’d like to not get arrested for felony tax evasion or attempted assault.”

“As much fun as that would be—“

“No, Remus.”

“—that doesn’t explain everything.” Remus gives him a look. “I saw Roro’s handwriting on some of that, you know we’re taking a break from videos right now. We’ve got all the other ones coming up, we don’t need to do more right now.”

“But there are all the other ideas for the interim!”

“Yes, and they are ideas. You and Roro have met about them and we all agreed that we wouldn’t do anything.” Remus puts a hand on his leg to preempt him getting up. “You need to stop, Logan. You’re working yourself too hard.”

“But—“

Remus raises an eyebrow when he can’t continue. “But what?”

Logan looks away, guilt and shame forming a solid lump in his throat. Unexpected tears begin welling in his eyes and he curls his hands into fists. 

A sigh comes from next to him and a hand gently cups his face, turning him back to Remus.

“But what, Lolo?”

“…it’s hard,” he mumbles, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Remus’s face. 

“Oh, Lolo, I know it’s hard. It’s always gonna be hard, it’s okay.”

“But I don’t want it to be hard,” he spits, even as Remus tuts and pulls him a bit closer, “I want it to stop.”

“That’s not how it works, Lolo, you know that.”

“But I’ve been better! I—I haven’t done anything in months. I’ve been eating, I’ve been sleeping, I’ve been spending time with you—well, less time lately—but that’s how holidays always are!”

“That’s enough,” Remus says sharply when Logan goes to pull away from him, “you know healing isn’t linear. You do, don’t look at me like that. It’s messy and it’s a pain in the ass but you gotta do it.”

“I know that but I don’t have to like it.”

“No one’s saying you gotta. Oh, hey…”

Because apparently, Logan no longer gets to decide when it’s an appropriate time to cry and Remus is reaching out to coax him into a hug because Remus is wearing soft things because he knew this was going to happen and—and—

“Did—did you do something to my—my calendar?”

Remus glances over and shakes his head. “No, Lolo. I didn’t do anything.”

“But why—why—“ Remus just gives him a look. “…oh.”

“C’mere, Loganberry, I think you’ve done enough thinking for one day.”

Logan closes his eyes and accepts his fate, leaning into Remus’s chest as his hands card through his hair. He fumbles to take his glasses off and shove them in his pocket before slumping bonelessly into the hug. 

“Hey,” Remus murmurs after a moment, “you wanna lie down? You want the others? What can I do?”

“…the others won’t be mad, right?”

“No, Loganberry, they won’t. Roro or I can grab one of those big mattresses too if you want.”

He sniffles, wiping his nose with the handkerchief from his pocket. It would be nice to see everyone…he really hasn’t seen them in a while. He has been working too hard. But that does remind him of something. 

“Do you…make new ones each time? Is it the same one? Where do you get them?”

Remus’s hand stills on his head. “You guys don’t know about the mattress room?”

“The what?”

Remus mutters something like no wonder you guys are so moody before he’s pushing Logan to sit up. “Can I summon Ro? Just real quick?”

Logan nods, slightly confused, and Remus reaches out and pulls Roman into the room. 

“Re? What’s going on, I—“ 

It would almost be funny how quickly Roman goes from slightly confused to openly concerned, shoulders dropping to make himself seem smaller, if it didn’t make Logan want to cry all over again. 

“Sweetheart?” He takes a careful step closer. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

Thankfully—because all of his speaking capabilities seem to have evaporated—Remus pats his back and looks up. “Logan doesn’t know about the mattress room.”

“Oh, I see.” Roman crouches down, reaching out to take Logan’s hands. “You wanna come with us?”

“Mhm.”

“Come here, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Logan raises his arms to let Roman wrap him up, coaxing him to his feet. “We’re going to sink now, okay? You just hold on…”

A brief pause later and Logan’s feet rest on something that is far squishier than his floor. 

“Easy, easy, sweetheart, I gotcha.” Roman holds him steady when he wobbles. “You’re just standing on a mattress, that’s all.”

With Roman propping him up, Logan manages to look around, squinting a little for lack of glasses only for his eyes to widen at where they are. 

‘The Mattress Room’ is the most fitting name it could be given. It’s just a massive room, almost larger than Thomas’s entire apartment, and the floor is just a giant mattress. There are smaller mattresses along the side almost like the lip of a hot tub only they’re mattresses, with firmer pillows and blankets strews about. There are comforters, weighted blankets, thin blankets, sheets, everything. Along one side is a window that looks out over a dusk sky, rich blues and purples with a thin stripe of pink at the very horizon. 

“Hey,” Roman calls gently, getting Logan’s attention again, “you okay? Is this alright?”

“’S safe,” Logan babbles, “’s—’s real safe.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s safe. C’mere, come sit down—there.” Roman eases them to the ground, pulling Logan almost into his lap. “You wanna get a bit closer to the window or are you okay here?”

“‘M good.”

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.”

Remus crouches next to them. “You still want the others, Lolo?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go get them. You and Ro just stay here and get comfy, okay?”

Get comfy. He can do that. 

Remus sinks out, leaving them alone in the ocean of mattress. Roman’s hand cards through his hair and gives him a little shake. 

“Poof yourself into something more comfortable, darling, you’ll feel better.”

Logan grumbles but does, his tie vanishing as Roman snaps himself into a red T-shirt and sleep shorts. He grumbles again when he realizes Roman was right, this is more comfortable, but he’s not gonna say that. 

Roman just chuckles and pulls him closer, lying down with Logan’s head on his chest. “There. This alright?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

It’s warm here, he realizes distantly when he wonders why he’s able to relax so quickly, like the bed’s been sitting in the sun all day. Well, he supposes it kind of has. He snuggles into Roman’s chest, making him laugh. 

“You need some more stimulation there?”

“Mhm.”

“Coming right up.” The arm around his waist tightens and Roman rolls them over, smiling down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Squished.” He reaches up and tugs Roman down until all his weight is on him, muffled laughter coming from his shoulder. “Mm.”

“Whoa, Remus, you fuckers have been holding out on us.”

“Language, but…yes.”

“How dare you keep optimal sunbathing spots from me? I thought we were friends!”

“The others are here,” Roman murmurs in his ear, “you want to talk to them or just cuddle?”

In response, he tightens his grip. 

“Cuddles it is.”

“Logan?” Janus’s voice comes from next to them, a gloved hand stroking the parts of his shoulder it can reach. “Sweetie? You alright under there?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you been working too hard again?”

“…maybe.”

Janus chuckles and ruffles his hair. “Get some rest, I don’t think Roman’s letting you up anytime soon.”

Roman makes a show of getting comfortable. “Nope.”

“Wait, so this is where all the mattresses come from?”

“Eh, we just take bits and pieces from the big one.”

“That’s so cool, kiddo!”

“So how long have you had a premium sunbathing spot and neglected to tell me?”

“Thought you knew about it, Snakey. You’re always sticking your peepers into what goes on in the Imagination when I’m busy.”

“First off, never call them ‘peepers’ ever again—“

“Nah, nah, Remus said ‘peepers,’ that’s what they’re called now, J.”

“They are not!”

Logan can’t help smiling at the banter, making Roman smile too. 

“It’s gonna be okay, darling,” he murmurs, “you just close your eyes and rest. We’ll be here.”

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If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[leo-kinnie]

So, since we're asking for tips, how does one exactly write a story? More specifically storyboard. Also how does thumbnailing work?

Sorry if this is a lot dhhdhd

ABJKFSDKB ITS ALRIGHT well

okay so thumbnailing SPECIFICALLY is very quick (less than 1 minute) doodles of specific shots you want to do. I usually do thumbnailing on pencil and paper because trying to do it on my display tablet just doesnt work.

You basically sketch out how you imagine certain scenes to go, maybe play around with angles or positions. thumbnailing is ALSO where you do compositional practice. Try burning characters down to their basic shapes (Donnie = Square, Leo = Triangle) and just drawing those shapes specifically to see what compositions you can get, then feel free to doodle over them to actually make them look like their character

Storyboarding is kinda refining your very quick doodley doodles and turning them into actual sketches. kinda like going from your first initial sketch to your second, cleaner sketch!! (remember thumbnails are WAYYYY MESSIER AND LESS ORGANIZED than what i'm depicting here as my 1st sketch)

when you're storyboarding you gotta go in there w one of 2 things in mind; a script or a mental amv.

If you got a mental amv of what's going on, you basically know what to draw for which scenes.

If you're like ME who likes to script things out and THEN work on drawing it, you just gotta take an hour out of your day (at most) and really refine how you want to depict what you're drawing!!

sorry i hope this helps im literally not a teacher just some guy speaking from his experience

[talysalankil]

so i did not expect to spend the better part of the day (i.e. all of it save for grocery shopping and making dinner) working on a number system for fteits but i guess sometimes the hyperfixation must be heeded or something but hey, look, i made a thing, i even did it both as a mechanical typeface and as a cursive

graphic designers don't @ me if the font looks terrible to you.

Am I now tempted to build their whole writing system? kinda!

Would i ever use any of it in the actual book? i don't know, probably not!

does anyone want to hear about the world building behind it? also probably not but who can stop me on my own blog

so the idea that the culture of the kingdom of anemos would use a base-16 number system is an old one from the very first draft. i actually used that system in narration and dialogue and my beta reader at the time rightfully pointed out that's utterly awful so i have refrained from it. but in my mind they're still using that system.

since the actual arc number of the setting is 4, i had been toying with a lot of ideas for a sort of sub-base, but the results i came up with were always feeling super inorganic. but idk why today i had the idea of having it based from a sign language. like, there's a sign language in setting (not developed beyond just "there is one" i don't have the skills for that) and the idea i had is that the signs for numbers could be using a sub-base of 4 by having the position of the arms be the signs to serve not just as signs but also be readable for communication over a longer distance in a primitive society. cause like, base 10 or other variations are fine if you're close enough to make out the individual fingers

so i toyed with possible poses, decided that the left arm would be used for the less significant digit and the right arm for the more significant digit because you just have to decide, ended up with this stick figure drawing because that's the best i can draw (the arrows represent the forearms only - these are depicted from the front so right arrow is left arm and blue is right)

and then translated those signs to like, a shape someone would transcribe in writing. iterated a couple times just to get a more organic shape. and then did the painstaking process of translating that to slightly more rigorous vector shapes to make a cleaner-looking font.

fun(? you've read this far) fact is that there kind of is a canonical stroke order and direction that comes from this derivation, in that someone would first draw the stroke that corresponds to the left arm elbow to hand, then whatever connective tissue there is (usually another body part like the upper arm) then finishing with the right arm, also elbow to hand.

also this means that crossing your arms would have a cultural association with the number zero, which is actually a neat little touch i can probably work into the book proper. so it's not all for nothing!

[jcmarchi]

XDefiant Review - Defying No Tradition - Game Informer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/xdefiant-review-defying-no-tradition-game-informer/

XDefiant Review - Defying No Tradition - Game Informer

XDefiant’s core modes offer temporarily fun stabs at the competitive multiplayer arena shooter, but Ubisoft’s latest attempt at carving out a slice of the lucrative esports pie feels half-baked. Core modes like its practice mode and ranked queue are gated off by construction tape at the time of writing. This leaves a bland battle pass with head-scratching progression decisions and standard weapon-based leveling systems as the only tangible means of rewarding you for playing the game or doing well beyond an individual match. And with questionable netcode and missing mainstay features and modes, not even its interesting hero shooter-like abilities and small tweaks on the run-and-gun, low-time-to-kill formula coined by Call of Duty make me want to return to XDefiant.

Ubisoft’s crossover shooter couldn’t have picked less interesting properties to kit-bash together. Though each of the five factions currently available in the game adds a cool approach to gameplay, they’re not exactly the superstars you think of when you hear Ubisoft. Instead, players step into the arenas as unfamiliar characters from Ded Sec (Watch Dogs), The Cleaners (The Division), Libertad (Far Cry), Echelon (Splinter Cell), or The Phantoms (Ghost Recon); there’s no Sam Fisher or Dani Rojas for you to recognize or get excited about picking because you liked their game. Each faction has three playable characters (two or more of which you need to unlock in each faction) but they have no differentiating traits between them aside from some cosmetic stuff. 

Combat is fast-paced, with a quick time-to-kill to make each shot count and almost nonexistent respawn timers constantly pushing you back out of the gate to chase down the objective and juice up that K/D ratio with its hyper-realistic arsenal of guns and devices. The standout here is XDefiant’s selection of 14 maps, each boasting plenty of cleverly laid out lanes and chokepoints, with open areas and tight corridors in different spots to encourage and reward different playstyles.

Getting enough kills in one life unlocks a cool ultra ability to help your team out in battle and stack up some extra kills or extra time on the objective. Here’s where things start to change from the familiar: Ultras, alongside a less powerful but still useful secondary ability and a helpful passive, vary based on the faction you choose. Each faction is based on an organization or group from another Ubisoft property and has its own set of specialties and abilities. You can switch between them anytime during a game, letting you adjust your strategy based on the task at hand.

Let’s say you’re playing Domination, but the other team has a sniper in a perfect sightline to pick you and your teammates off one by one, keeping you from capturing the point. Setting up one of the Phantoms’ Mag Barriers might help absorb some sniper fire long enough for your team to grab a reliable foothold and return fire. But as tactical as these abilities can be, XDefiant’s basic setup doesn’t do enough to encourage strategic play over simply rushing the objective and trying to beat the enemy team to the draw until the score limit is reached.

That game of quickdraw doesn’t always feel right, though. XDefiant’s netcode and hit detection are way off; I can’t tell you how many times my game has registered a shot on an opposing player as a hit, only for them to kill me and the game to tell me that they had full health after I’d been downed. Even with a wired connection and the best ping in my lobby, I’ve been shot through walls as I move and even been killed while hiding behind cover that should block my entire body.

[embedded content]

It’s barely been a week since I first installed XDefiant, but I don’t think I’d miss it from my hard drive. While the gameplay at its core is fun enough, the game is barren compared to most other shooters—including the free ones—with even bare-basic modes like team deathmatch and free-for-all or features like a ping system or skill-based matchmaking nowhere to be found. Its maps are well-made, sure, but with no rank to strive for, daily missions that ask me to commit to playing ten whole matches, and very little to look forward to in the battle pass, I don’t understand why this game would gain any traction over others beyond the fact that it’s free.

[cricutmaker01]

8 Cricut Home Decor Ideas to Elevate Your Space

 Hey, what if I introduce you to the best Cricut home decor ideas of 2024? I know you must be searching for them; that’s why you landed on this page! By the way, I am really glad to see you as my reader. Do you know how important it is to have a decorated and classy home? It is very important when you want things to be cleaner and well-organized.

I am the kind of person who doesn’t wait for any occasion to decorate my home. I feel that home should always be aesthetic in appearance. I can never compromise when it comes to Cricut projects for home decor. Hence, I made a lot of home decor Cricut projects. And you can find all of them in this write-up. Let’s delve into it!

3D Pyramidal Art

Wall art can make your house look more attractive. It would be great if you could draw your guests’ attention to every corner of your house. Also, as an artist, I always prefer to showcase things that show my interest in the arts.

So, if you are also into the arts, you should try this 3D art with your Cricut. I believe these art projects are the best Cricut home decor ideas.

Frames

How about this ice cream wall art? If you or kids in your family are an ice cream lover, this can be a great idea for decorating the home wall. I prefer to hang out in my kids’ room as they are ice cream lovers, and they like such cute graphics with multiple colors.

From modern ideas to adding some refreshing color, you will want something like this for your child.

Buttercup Wall Decor

This buttercup wall decor is simple, yet it can be one of the best Cricut home decor ideas to try this year. I made it myself on my Cricut Maker, but you can also create it on the Explore series. Also, it is not going to be that difficult, and it is even easier for many beginner crafters. So what are you waiting for? This is your call. Try it if you find it fascinating. If not, let’s skip it and move on to another one!

Flower Wreath

Have you ever tried felt material? If you are a beginner, you might not know. But this material can be great if you want to create something like a wreath! In order to make an incredible wreath, I used woody climbers and felt material.

Moreover, the roses are actually made with Cricut. So, all you need is different felt colors. Just put them in Cricut and cut them according to the designs you have created. But, if you find it hard to create by yourself, you can also use SVG files available on the internet.

Layered Wall Art

How about this wall art? I was inspired to create such beautiful wall decor when I visited one of my friends’ new homes recently. Hence, I couldn’t stop myself from creating it. Also, this is the best fit for someone looking for the best Cricut home decor ideas. With such Cricut projects for home decor, you can make your wall look outstanding.

Plant Pots

Oh, how can you miss your garden, the beautiful area where you might get peace of mind? However, the garden is the heart of my house; it brings joy whenever I wander around in it. Hence, I wanted to make it as good-looking as possible. So, here is my plant pot that I created using a vinyl label and pasted it on my pot.

It looks gorgeous, doesn’t it? It was one of my best Cricut home decor ideas, thanks to my friend Jiya.

Welcome Sign

If you want the best home decor Cricut projects, you should try this Welcome sign board. I made this using a wooden plate and vinyl material to transfer my text to it. In addition, I first wrote the text in the stylish font on my Cricut Design Space. Now, you can elevate the welcoming vibes of someone special, guests or loved ones!

Doormats

Doormats are essential for keeping homes clean and organized and are inseparable parts of home decor. Hence, most people might need to pay more attention to doormat designs and their importance, but it is a must-have accessory if you want someone who loves decorated homes. In general, these small things matter, so make sure you choose the right home decor projects!

FAQs

Question 1: What can I make with Cricut to decorate my home?

Answer: Now, you can easily do the following projects with your Cricut. However, you will need some basic supplies, and you will be ready to go! Have a look at the home decor ideas for Cricut users:

Diamond hanging planters

Paper succulents

Reusable stencils

Floral monogram letters

Modern wall hooks

Leather geometric buffalo pillows

Wooden signs with quotes

Flower paper pinwheels

Home sweet home signs

Corkboard travel maps

Question 2: What do I need to make a wooden sign using my Cricut?

Answer: If you need accessories or supplies to make home decor projects like home signs, look into the following items. So, these items will be enough for you to make a wooden sign for your home decor!

A piece of 1/2″ thick.

Stencil vinyl

Small paint brushes

Finishing nail gun & finishing nails

Mod podge

A Cricut cutting machine

Mitre saw

Fine grit sanding sponge (optional)

Question 3: Can I use my Cricut Joy machine to make home decor?

Answer: Yes, you can make a wide range of Cricut projects. Be it for home decor or other personalized stuff, Cricut Joy can help you create most of the projects easily and without any issues. So, all you need is a collection of the right materials and tools to assist you in creating projects. However, there is only one: Cricut Joy can’t make bigger things.

Source: Cricut home decor ideas

Visit here For More Information: cricut.com/setup

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[seaoreos]

I got a new bag at forest fair this year. It’s red and orange and shaped like a whale shark with big button eyes, ridiculously adjustable straps, and a surprising amount of space inside compared to my old bag.

So I’ve piled a lot of things into it. Among the usual things like wallet, phone, lip balm. A small bottle of lotion, a small tin of hand cream, two different kinds of earplugs, glasses cleaner, phone battery, a notebook & pencil, and a small box of the Pride pins I make.

It only has one small pocket inside of it, so I put my most-used and smallest stuff in there. So, to keep things more organized, I put some things into a small handy little mesh bag I got from some dice or earrings or something I got. Two different sizes of pads, normal band-aids, waterproof band-aids, at least four ibuprofen, a pack of tissues… I’m sure there’s something I’m forgetting. Anyways, *everything* that’s in my bag isn’t exactly the point of this post.

Once I realized how much stuff I could put in my new bag, it made me happy to think of being the ‘has literally any random thing and god knows what else in his bag’ guy. And there’s still stuff I wanna add, like maybe a small sewing kit, glasses repair kit… gum. So on.

And recently, in an online class I’ve been in (which could be another, less positive post, at least right now) I saw someone trying to post their art on the discussion board that had done something I had almost done, until I figured out the way everyone else was doing it. So I just dropped a quick comment, telling them I’d had the same problem, and trying to help. Not required or anything, I just… wanted to.

Last night, my friend Skyler was drawing something for the first time in awhile- they were struggling with a small part of it, asked for some help- I did a quick show of how the reference they were using lines worked, the sort of shape they made, and also drew a vague shape of what it could look like over/with their lineart. It didn’t take much work, just a few minutes or so, but they were really happy. The art came out great, by the way, and it made me really happy to see them drawing again.

and tonight my partner was also drawing- something for my birthday, actually. (Tuesday. Oct 3rd. I’m turning 18.) At first he was just struggling with the cuff of a sleeve, some fabric folds, so I did a similar thing to help him out. Now I’m also drawing a quick reference of my oc Viri’s face scar for him, (which I have yet to finish. Class project. That I should be working on instead of writing this.) because he needed that too, and I don’t mind.

They were both thanking me for my help- we were all on call together- and in trying to find something to say, I just managed “I like to help.” And, you know, I really think I do, actually. I like to help. It’s nice. I don’t know where I was going with this originally, but… I like to help. I want to help. And I’ve been doing it without much of a second thought lately, which is nice. It feels good.

it’s 7am and I haven’t slept which isn’t helping my mush brain make the original point/meaning here that I’ve kinda forgotten by now. But I wanna be good and kind and help but I also wanna remember how to be mean again.

but I guess what I mean by ‘mean’ I think, is I want to.. have a backbone again? Be brave again? Be a brash little autistic kid who said ‘but why’ to everything and anything and just did what they thought was right? And it’s kind of ‘mean’ only because a lot of other people see it that way. I wanna stick up for others and myself too, instead of clamming up and not doing it. It doesn’t help that I don’t feel very intimidating. I’m almost 18, but I’m pretty short and a weird little hopefully-kinda-gnc-lookin thing and people just always seem to think that I’m 13 or something. It’s genuinely getting on my nerves. Ma’am. I am a fucking grown ass man. Please stop talking to me like that.

I’m tired I need to sleep. Basically I wanna be kind but take no shit. I guess. That’s very punk to me. And I wanna make a jacket covered in patches and pins and other customizations, maybe some spikes and some moss, paint and sharpies and god knows what else. I simultaneously wanna look like a wizard, some cottage thing, a punk ass fuck, a colorful blob, and some forest creature, which is great. Anyways remembering the nice stuff I’ve done recently w just the. I dunno, almost bewildered ‘I like to help’ that was.. instinct? Makes me feel good. I wanna have my sharp teeth back.

[angryschnauzer]

Distraction

Summary: As a junior CIA agent you are added to a mission to help with scientific analysis, but when half the team are hospitalised you have to suddenly become a hands on field agent, alongside August Walker and Will Shaw. When the final part of the mission at a tropical plant glass house has an unexpected side affect, you have to work as a team to survive the night.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader x Will Shaw Fandoms: Mission Impossible: Fallout (Movie), The Cold Light of Day (Movie), Henry Cavill - Actor.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Sex Pollen, Threesome, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Blowjob, Cum Play, Double Penetration, Anal Sex.

A/N: This is my first time writing the Sex Pollen trope, so i hope you like it. Fic is unbeta’d; only the finest free range organic typos for me. I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will then get an alert when i post something new.

Back catalogue can be found on AO3 Link Here, or you can follow my facebook page HERE.

 Distraction

 If there had been someone narrating a movie of this mission, the first line would have been ‘it was a simple mission’. However, they would have been lying. The mission was far from simple, it was convoluted, complicated, and the team fucking hated each other.

 The team were scheduled to arrive via two flights, from opposite directions of the globe as not to arouse suspicions that a large team would do if anyone was picked up on facial recognition. You had been brought on board because of your scientific and tech background, and as the team were tasked with retrieving the formula for the most dangerous biological weapon in the world, you were the one that would check they had the right thumb drive before the mission was able to be called a success. There would be multiple extraction points, numerous undercover assignments that would all lead to the final extraction at the gala dinner.

 That was the plan. What actually happened was the half of the team coming in from Dallas ended up with severe food poisoning and were currently being hospitalised in a local treatment facility. That left just your half of the team, and the senior agent now in charge was none too happy about it;

 “I’ve got a fucking chemistry nerd and a number cruncher for a hands on mission that requires multiple scenes where infiltration and distraction are needed, and neither of you have any fucking field work!”

 August Walker hated everyone and made sure he did everything he could so that everyone hated him in return. The other member of the team quietly ground his teeth, Walker never once let him forget that he came into this agency completely by accident following a rogue faction and a situation that started with the death of his CIA Agent father, and resulted in smashing up half of Madrid’s traffic in a 24 hour long series of car chases;

 “I was a stockbroker, and i didn’t hear anyone complaining when i discovered the currency discrepancies that found us the targets insider trading”

 Will Shaw was so similar yet so different to Walker it was startling, you even thought they looked similar enough to be long lost brothers, but never dared to mention it.

 The hotel suite had all the facilities you needed to set up a small command post, with enough counter space to set up the laptops and work-stations, whilst not getting under each other's feet. However it was still small enough for the two men to continually bicker and make snide remarks at each other, and you had to push the earpiece of your surveillance equipment closer to your ear to hear, finally you heard what you needed to, holding your hand up and clicking your fingers at the two men who immediately silenced and crossed the room;

 “They’re going to be at the MMA Gym in thirty minutes”

 “Okay” Walker huffed; “We need to extract the codes from his device that will give us access for the holding location. You and Shaw take the gym and cause the distraction, i’ll get the codes”

 Will shook his head;

 “Not gonna work”

 “It's not?” you were surprised

 “The gym is men only, the only women are administration and janitorial”

 “That’s fucking antiquated” August spat out in disgust.

 You had to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth, that August Walker of all people would be an advocate for equal rights, but nonetheless started to prepare for the first distraction.

 -

 Walker and Shaw had entered the building separately but within 5 minutes of each other, signing in under false names and keeping it simple and silent as they started training on the weights and cardio machines in the gym. You had already entered through the basement deliveries door which you’d been able to pick the lock of, finding a staff uniform t-shirt in the storeroom and pulling it on over your top. You could hear both men through their hidden comms, and within a couple of minutes pretending to sort out a cleaning kart that you knew the morning crew had finished with, you heard the code word that the target had entered the weights room.

 Seconds later you were tentatively pushing the door to the locker room open, calling out;

 “Housekeeping!”

 You had no idea if they called themselves housekeeping or janitorial staff or whatever, but when you didn’t get a reply you quickly entered the room and did what needed to be done. 

 Through your ear piece you could hear the first stage of the distraction starting, with your two fellow agents starting to challenge the other to out lift each other, and from the muffled background noise you could tell that they were drawing a crowd of onlookers.

 Tapping your comms you alerted Walker and Shaw that you’d been successful, and that it was time for them to leave. But as you got no response you quickly made your way out of the locker room through the other exit, only to find yourself in a glass walled corridor, the gym on the other side of the glass. What surprised you however was that there was now a huge crowd of spectators as they watched your two agents try to pull out more reps on the bicep curl machine. Scowling you grabbed a cloth and bottle of spray cleaner and squirted the glass, glaring at the two of them before they finally saw you;

 “Its time to go, dumbasses. Finish the contest. I’ll be in the car in the street behind the building”

 -

 Pushing through the door of the hotel suite you scrunched your nose as Will pushed past you, August not far behind;

 “You two need a shower… did you really need to get that sweaty?”

 “Well… you wanted the distraction to look convincing, didn’t you?” Will shot back, stripping his t-shirt off, already halfway to the bathroom.

 A quiet cough behind you drew your attention away from Will’s sculpted back muscles;

 “When you’re done staring at Shaw…”

 “I...I wasn’t stare…”

 “Whatever sweetheart, either way; you two need to change”

 Looking down at your outfit you pulled at the gym t-shirt;

 “Yeah, i can just find a utility shirt or something…”

 “No, you’re front of house with me. Will’s taking the extraction of the thumb drive”

 “But...I didn’t bring an outfit…”

 August nodded to a pile of bags in the corner of the room from the agents that hadn’t made it to the mission but their luggage had;

 “So check Marianne’s, she is about the same size as you. Either way its you and me sweetheart, now get dolled up, you can’t go to a gala looking like that”

 -

 Twenty minutes later you took a deep breath; you’d found Marianne’s bag and had found that although she was a similar size to you, it was one size smaller. She also had a completely different taste and style to makeup and you were now way out of your comfort zone. The red lipstick however seemed to work, a touch of gold bronzing powder across your shoulders and chest made the red silk dress really work for you. Adjusting the straps so they sat over the top of your bra, the pretty floral pattern hopefully not too noticeably jarring against the sultry silk. Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the small dressing room and came face to face with Will;

 “Oh hey” he looked you up and down before clearing his throat; “Looks good”

 “Yeah?” you smoothed the dress down over your stomach

 “I mean… the bra kinda takes away from the look… but yeah, it looks really good”

 “I...I didn’t have anything suitable for a gala, this is Marianne’s… from her bag…”

 Will stood in front of you, reaching his hand around your back and with a quick snap of his fingers he’d unfastened your bra;

 “It really will look better without the bra… trust me…”

 Without another word he turned and crossed the room, pulling his tie from his bag, fastening it as August emerged from the other room;

 “Agent. Bra off, now”

 Shimmying the offending garment down your arms you pulled it out of your dress as he crossed the room;

 “I don’t see why…”

 “Because the people at this gala have got so much money they flaunt what they’ve got. You’ve got to fit in” He held his finger out and you hooked it over the protruding digit.

 “We’d better get going… the gala is about to start”

 With a nod August grabbed the keys to the BMW you’d been assigned and tossed them to Will; he was taking on the role of Driver and Bodyguard to your’s and August’s ‘couple’, the three of you filed out of the room and into the elevator.

 The ride down the highrise hotel was slow, and you could feel both men’s eyes on you as they stood behind you, before the doors finally opened to the basement parking. You struggled to keep up with them as they strode out with their long legs, the heels of your stiletto sandals clicking on the cement. Finally as you reached the car you were surprised as August opened the door for you, not uttering a word as he watched you climb in before he rounded the car and slid into the back seat beside you.

 You’d barely had time to fasten your seatbelt before Will was peeling out of the hotel parking with a squeal of tyres and you were heading to your destination.

 “Panties, off” August’s words surprised you

 “W-WHAT?!”

 “Panties. Take them off”

 “Agent Walker…”

 “They dig into the meat of your hips and take the attention away from the sexiness of the dress. You need to fit in tonight”

 “B-b-but…” you attempted to stall, but without another word August pulled your knees towards him and slid his hands beneath your dress. He grasped the thin elastic straps that ran over your hips and pulled hard, snapping the fragile pieces of fabric and pulling the now ruined undergarments. Glancing at Will he had a brief smirk on his face but quickly looked away, concentrating on the road ahead. 

 -

 The gala was amazing, and it was hard not to get absorbed into the evening as if you were a real guest. You could hear everything through the hidden comms units in your ears, and apart from the occasional grunt as Will silently passed the guards as he made his way further into the underground chambers that ran below the massive glasshouse the gala was in, it seemed to all be going exactly to plan. The host had announced for everyone to celebrate, and you had found yourselves being swept onto the dancefloor, and suddenly you were in August’s arms as he held you close, the music thankfully loud enough to drown out your conversation from the ears of others;

 “Do you think he’s getting on ok?”

 “He’d say if he wasn’t” August assured you as he moved in time to the music, his hand on your lower back pulling you closer to his body. At that very moment you both heard a guttural cry through the comms, your eyes wide in panic as he grabbed your hand and you quickly made your way through the crowd;

 “Shaw, come in… are you ok?”

 You heard gurgling on the comms and watched as August pulled out his phone and activated the trackers that you all wore, the two of you coming up together on screen, but the third - Will’s - showing as on the level below and not moving.

 -

 The stairs had been hell in your heels, eventually you’d kicked them off and had run barefoot behind August, chasing him around corners and along corridors, before he’d finally come to a halt in front of a sealed door, his phone showing that Will was in the room behind it.

 “Stand back”

 You took a couple of steps back and watched as August kicked the door, the deafening bang as it broke from its hinges and splintered in was immediately forgotten as a sudden rush of air came out of the room, covering him in a dusting of strange grey-pinkish powder. He fell to the floor coughing and you rushed to his side;

 “Check on Shaw! I’m fine!”

 Quickly entering the room you looked around, finally seeing Will laying on the floor, he too was covered in the powder. Kneeling at his side you checked his pulse, relieved to find one as he opened his eyes and groaned.

 “What happened? Are you ok?”

 “Stop fussing, i’m fine… we gotta get out of here. Security will be on their way…”

 At that moment August appeared at your side;

 “Did you get it?”

 “Yeah, i got it”

 Will held out the thumb drive and pushed it into your hand as August pulled him to his feet, and they attempted to dust themselves off as the three of you staggered down the hallway and out of the fire exit.

 -

 Pushing into the hotel room, both Will and August had already shed the majority of their clothing, now dressed in just their smart dress pants and under shirts, still coughing from the dust cloud that lingered in their airways. You’d run the briefest of tests with the tiny blood monitor that you’d kept in the car to ensure it wasn’t a known nerve agent or poison before you’d even left the extraction point, thankfully the results being negative, but both men needed to wash off whatever it was as soon as possible. But first, you needed a proper sample;

 “Agent Shaw, i need to take some blood, hair and saliva, run it through the test software, to see if whatever it was has synthesised into your bloodstream” you nodded to the small scientific station you’d set up at the end of the table, the case having contained tiny gadgets that amounted to a microscope, a mass spectrometer, and other testing equipment… the whole point of why you in particular had been placed on this mission.

 A minute later you’d collected the samples, trying hard not to get flustered as Will had stood in front of you bare chested and in just his underwear, heat radiating from his body;

 “So what do you think it is?”

 “I have no idea”

 “Well i’m burning up, i need to take a shower”

 Quickly loading the samples into the rapid mass spectrometer you turned to Agent Walker to check his vitals and let out a tiny squeak of surprise when you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in just his underwear. His chest was flushed and he had a sheen of sweat over his entire body;

 “I guess i’m next?”

 Pressing your hand to his forehead you could feel he was burning up;

 “I’m going to check your temperature first”

 Quickly using the thermal reader you could see that his core temp was heading towards fever;

 “I’m going to take the samples then as soon as Will is out of the shower you need to get in there”

 “Yes Ma’am” he chuckled, closing his eyes as you pushed your fingers through his hair to pluck a sample strand. The powder had caught in the strands and it was only as you combed your fingers through the dark locks did you realise he had soft curls. As you tried to separate them he let out a groan as you stroked his scalp. He swayed a little even though he was sitting down, and before you could do anything his hands were on your hips to steady himself, the heat almost searing through the silk of your dress. 

 Finally having got all the samples you needed you reluctantly pulled away, not saying a word as he simply flopped back onto the bed with a smirk on his face. You busied yourself preparing the test samples from Agent Walker, the machine finishing with Shaw’s. You were vaguely aware of the shower being turned off and the men moving around the room, before the shower was on again and you presumed it was August in there.

 Peering at the saliva samples through the microscope you frowned, the particles present completely organic and very familiar.

 “So what is the diagnosis Doc?”

 Will’s voice surprised you, and as you jumped and turned your eyes went wide when you saw he was in just a towel, tied low on his waist as he drank from a bottle of water.

 “Y-You don’t want to put some clothes on?”

 He looked down at himself, almost surprised to find he was only wearing a towel and shrugged;

 “No point, the way i’m burning up i’ll be naked soon” he nodded to the screen; “So?”

 Turning your attention back to the screen you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry;

 “Well… it seems organic, spores of some kind. Its hard to tell what they are from, but their chemical make-up is unique. The only time i’ve seen anything similar is in isolated microclimates that are cut off from the rest of nature… there was this one… in a volcano… a pollen from a plant that grew in tropical climates…” you trailed off as you sensed another presence now flanking your other side, glancing away from the microscope, taking in the sight of August in an identical outfit to Will, his broad expanse of chest at eye level as he bent down to look into the microscope.

 “Hmmn… so, how’s it gonna affect us? The gala was in a fucking giant greenhouse; you saw the plants they were growing there, some of them were 20ft tall and looked like they’d come from another planet. Do we need to pop an antihistamine or something, what’s it gonna do?”

 Standing you quickly slid out from between the two barely dressed men, checking the mass spectrometer and frowning;

 “It seems to be elevating your testosterone levels…” you peered at the saliva results; “...and pheromones… your bodies are heating up where your body is fighting against the pollen, its affecting all your hormones...”

 “Pheromones…” Will mused; “... that’s the sex hormones, right?”

 “Urrr…” you faltered, looking up at the two men who were now looking at you like hungry wolves.

 August stepped closer;

 “Sweetheart, i think you’d better get yourself tested too…” he paused, his finger hooking beneath the thin strap of your dress, making you acutely aware you were completely naked beneath it; “... cos’ i could smell you from across the room… and you smell so sweet right now…”

 You went to take a step back, only to bump into the hard expanse of Will’s naked chest, his hand curling around your arm;

 “C’mon, lets get you tested…”

 You were suddenly putty in their hands, your head swimming and it was only then that you realised you were burning up. It felt like you had a core of lava within you, and the only thing you could liken it to was a hot flash, your body flushed with heat. You recalled the time you’d overheard a much older agent talking to her friends, unaware you had been in the room and she’d spilled the beans on how she would recover from an episode and calm her hormones down... with the help of her husband.

 As your head had been swirling, Will had taken your blood sample and had loaded it into the mass spectrometer, having watched as you’d shown him before the mission. But you could barely concentrate;

 “I...I know how to counteract the affects of the pollen…” you panted out, unsteady on your feet as you swayed and August caught you in his arms

 “Oh yes?”

 “En… Endorphins… they counteract… they burn off the pheromones…”

 You felt hot breath on the back of your neck as Will pressed against you;

 “I’m not a scientist, but i know how to create endorphins…” 

 His lips made contact with your neck and you turned to jelly, your head resting against his shoulder and your eyelids drooping, barely open, yet you had enough of your senses to be aware of August in front of you, pulling the straps of your dress down your arms, you pliable in his hands as he stripped you of your only remaining garment, pressing his lips to your over heated skin as went as the silk pooled at your feet;

 “So beautiful…”

 “Absolutely” Will agreed from behind, his lips grazing over your jawline as his arms reached around you and cupped your tender breasts; “We need to work as a team to get through this… what are the hazards of hot flashes then Doc?”

 “Y-Y-You can over heat your brain… your heart could give out…”

 “Uh-huh… and endorphins will help stop this?” August enquired, his breath hot on your naked chest

 “Y-yeah…”

 That was the last word spoken for a very long time. From that point on the only sounds in the room were hums of pleasure combined with the carnal soundtrack of three bodies moving towards the inevitable. By the time you got to the bed both men had lost their towels, hard naked bodies pressed against your soft curves, sculpted hard muscle available everywhere you touched, and oh did you touch… and caress and stroke, the second you’d reciprocated their affections they had softened to your touch, sighs of pleasure as your fingertips gave them just the slightest relief.

 You found yourself sandwiched between the two men on the soft covers of the king-size bed, each taking turns to capture your lips for searing kisses, each having their own unique talent and style with their tongues. When you were deep in August’s embrace you felt Will move down the bed, his hands pulling your legs apart before he pressed kisses up your inner thighs and his mouth made contact with your soaked folds. The cry of pleasure that erupted from your mouth broke the kiss, yet August didn’t seem to mind as your hand had found its way to being wrapped around his weeping shaft, tugging him sloppily as you struggled to concentrate;

 “That’s it Sweetheart, you don’t need to be gentle… i like it rough…”

 You tried to answer, but Will’s tongue had found your soaked entrance as his hand curled around your thigh and sought out your clit, the pleasure he was giving you was too intense to allow you to form coherent words. August claimed your lips again for another searing kiss, humming his appreciation as you worked your hand over his heated flesh.

 Before you knew it you were coming hard, your orgasm tearing through your body as you ground your core against Will’s face, his eyes sparkling from between your thighs, and as you were floating on the high of the afterglow you could feel the two men moving you, adjusting you to suit their needs.

 On all fours on the bed you were faced with August’s dick, opening your mouth instinctively to take him deep, the heavy weight on your tongue a welcome feeling. Saliva spilled from the corners of your mouth as you struggled to stretch around his girth. At the same time you felt Will’s powerful thighs pressing against the back of your own, the velvet touch of his bulbous crown pressing to your still trembling hole before with a grunt he thrust into your soft body.

 There were only grunts and gasps of pleasure, the two men rocking your body between them as they defiled you in the basest of ways, but that you were eager to participate in, the mixing of pheromones in the room removing your inhibitions, knowing that it was an act of survival. You could feel your body climbing again, your orgasm imminent. You felt the first salty tang of August’s seed on your tongue, the tensing of his muscles as his body prepared to release into the welcome warmth of your mouth. His massive hand cupped your chin and pulled your head up to look him in the eye as he finally reached his peak, grunting curses as he pumped thick ropes over your tongue, raining praise upon you as you swallowed everything he gave you. 

 August fell back onto the pillows, but before you could let gravity take hold of you too Will wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you upright until you were pressed against his chest, his hips thrusting as he filled you so deliciously from behind. Through lust soaked gaze you watched August watching the pair of you as you fucked in front of him, his eyes travelling down your heated body until he was watching where your bodies were joined, how Will’s thick cock stretched you out so well.

 “Get your finger on her clit Shaw, i wanna watch you make her come undone”

 Doing as the senior agent instructed, Will snaked a hand down your stomach, rubbing tight firm circles against your sensitive bud as he continued to fill you, until you were shaking, hanging onto the precipice of pleasure and that final flick of his finger was enough to set off another orgasm. 

 The vice-like grip of your velvet walls was the final trigger for Will, and with a sin filled groan he pushed in one last time and you could feel him spilling deep inside you.

 Finally he pulled out, carefully setting you down onto the soft bedcovers. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the burning deep in your body seemed to be sated. You felt the men moving around the bed, a large hand cupping the back of your neck before lifting you from the bed a little;

 “Drink…”

 Opening your eyes, you watched as August lifted a water bottle to your lips, making sure you gulped down the chilled water before pulling away;

 “How… how are you guys feeling?”

 He turned and sat on the bed beside you, his finger trailing down your neck and between your breasts, and only then could you see the sheen as his skin glistened with sweat, a droplet running down his abdomen to where his cock stood hard and proud from a thatch of dark curls;

 “Not… not quite done yet…”

 Gently pushing you back down onto the bed he tossed the empty bottle aside before crawling atop of you, capturing your mouth with his as you felt the nudge of his hardened dick breach your body, his wide expanse of chest pressing you to the bed. He didn’t start out gentle and it only got rougher, ploughing into your body as he sought to relieve the effects of the pollen coursing through his veins like fire, burning within him until all that was left was red hot embers of passion. Your body writhed beneath him, begging for more, eagerly taking whatever he could give.

 He hit spots you didn’t know existed, your back arching with pleasure as he filled you, your hardened nipples almost too sensitive from his chest hair roughly rubbing against them, the stimulation almost too much until the levy broke and you came hard, your fingers digging into his back to leave dark welts, the pain his trigger for the final thrust as he pumped you full of his seed. 

 Finally he rolled off you, laying at your side as your chests heaved, struggling to catch your breath when you felt another hand grasp at your wrist;

 “Babe… please… i need you…”

 Looking to Will you saw a pained look on his face as he sat partially propped up against the pillows, his chest soaked and his dick standing hard and proud;

 “Please…” he begged.

 Somehow you found the energy to move, your body still shaking but yet you straddled his lap, pushing his sweat soaked curls from his face;

 “It’s going to be ok Will, i’ll take care of you… its ok…”

 You sank down onto his waiting body, taking him where August had been only a minute before, the comingled seed lubricating you as this new angle found yet more pleasure points that had remained undiscovered until then. Wills hands moved to your hips, his grip tight as he gritted his teeth and moved you on his lap, rocking you to ride him like a rodeo stallion. Sweat dripped down your body, rivulets running between your breasts as you threw your head back and basked in the flood of pleasure chemicals soaking your brain. The haze of lust clouding time and space as you came to another orgasm, Will filling you with another load of his thick cum, your cries of pleasure finally ebbing away as you collapsed on his heaving chest, his hands stroking your back whilst your bodies stayed joined.

 A pair of strong arms lifted you off of Will and set you down on the mattress, August’s dark smile haunting over you as he parted your legs and kissed down your thigh, before with a smirk he bit the soft flesh. It wasn’t enough to break the skin but the pleasure pain receptors in your mind were immediately set off again, and you knew that even if you couldn’t see the mark you’d feel it for days to come. He lifted your legs and parted them, his face at your centre, yet where his tongue ended up you let out a squeak of surprise as he circled your back entrance. 

 “Oh, OH… August…”

 “Mmmnnfff” was all that could be heard as he pushed his tongue at your asshole, his thumb pressing against your clit as he worked you open, your body deceiving you as a fierce orgasm washed over you almost immediately. When he pulled away he had a smug look on his face;

 “Thought as much… hold tight…”

 He quickly disappeared to the bathroom, before returning with a small bottle in his hand. Pouring some of the liquid contained within on his fingers, he worked the oil over your skin before pushing his thick finger into your ass, eagerly praising you as he worked your body until you were ready.

 “Walker… hurry up and fuck her… i’m burning up here, i need another round…” Will gasped out as August moved you.

 “C’mere then Shaw, we’re never gonna get this out of our systems if we have to wait to take turns…”

 Even through the haze of the pollen Will immediately got what August was saying, the pair of them pulling you from the bed before Will took you into his arms;

 “Jump…”

 With a surprising amount of strength Will pulled you up, your legs hooked over his forearms as he angled his hips to push his dick back into your cum soaked cunt, letting gravity help as he sank deep. Just as you thought you were about to overbalance a hard chest pressed against your back, August stooping behind you as he took his iron hard dick in hand and sought out purchase on your ass;

 “Gonna take this as slow as i can Sweetheart…”

 Slow didn’t seem slow enough, and you cursed Newton and the laws of physics as the same forces that had pulled you down onto Will did the same with August, leaving you gasping for air as you were filled in both holes. The boys held you up, in place and still whilst they resisted ravaging your body, fighting against the pollen until they could no longer hold back and they unleashed their raw power upon your body. Fucking you in tandem with the thinnest of walls separating themselves inside you, they defiled your body as you begged for more; harder, deeper, faster. It was never enough.

 -

 The night ebbed away into the mists of time, each sex act more depraved than the last, the three of you driving the deadly force of the pollen from your bodies in an endless battle of lust.

The last thing you recalled was the sun rising as the two men stood before your kneeling body, spraying your face and breasts with a final load before sleep finally claimed your sated body.

 -

 Bright light streamed in the window and you winced as your head pounded. A deep voice could be heard but you weren’t listening. A warm body beside you shifted and a large warm hand pressed to your aching abdomen, soothing the overworked muscles. A soft pair of lips pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and the lack of moustache told you it was Will that was spooning you.

 “C’mon Agents, rise and shine” August barked from the bathroom doorway, packing his things; “Got a flight to catch in two hours, debriefing in twelve”

 -

 Closing the file you nodded at your superiors, their approval of a good job done ringing praises in your ears as the debriefing ended, people pushing their chairs out and making small talk as they were dismissed for the weekend and a well deserved rest.

 Walking to the elevator you didn’t make eye contact, trying hard not to wince as your thighs rubbed together and you felt the bite that August had given you, wanting to avoid any probing questions. You’d skimmed over a lot in your report, mainly the sex-pollen induced orgy that had taken place, but as the thumb drive with the vital data on had been recovered no-one was concentrating on the part between the retrieval and the debriefing.

 The elevator dinged as the doors opened, and absentmindedly you stepped in, looking out of the glass windows as you were only partially aware of just a few other passengers. It was only when you realised you were flanked on both sides did you look up and see that August and Will were either side of you. 

 With a smirk August handed you a file;

 “This wasn’t needed for the debriefing”

 You flicked it open and saw that it was the mobile test data from the hotel room;

 “Yes, probably for the best” you agreed, your throat dry.

 As you held the pages Will pointed to a trio of lines towards the bottom. For a moment you stared at the numbers before you recognised what they meant;

 “That’s our results…”

 You felt August’s breath hot on your ear as he whispered;

 “Look at yours…”

 You saw the readings of Will and August’s blood count, of the pheromone saturation… then you saw yours;

 “But… but that can’t be right…”

 “You know that equipment better than anyone else… when has it ever been wrong?”

 The elevator reached the Lobby and everyone filed out, August and Will stopping and nodding to the bar across the street;

 “We’ll be catching a drink or two… you’re welcome to join us once you’ve taken in the test data…”

 You nodded, speechless, staring at the data in black and white. It couldn’t be wrong; it was never wrong. It was clear as day.

 You hadn’t been infected by the pollen.

[chasingpj]

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

summary: five ways he says i love you through his actions

warnings: implied nudity and s*x, discusses food and eating and nothing else, i think. oh, and maybe some typos

category: headcanons

love letters/notes

leo is a busy boy

he's always picking up new projects so he can spend all day in his workshop or the forges with his siblings

when you guys live together, he leaves small notes on the refrigerator for you

they're always short, saying simple things like "i love you" and "i miss you already"

for the love letters, he'll leave them in random places for you to find

if you're a big reader, i can see him hiding it between the pages of your book

one day, you pick up your book to read, and the note falls on your lap

it's a love letter written on a piece of blueprint paper; there’s a little bit of oil smudged on the side of it

he got distracted while he was working on something because you were the only thing he could think about

his love letters never fail to make your heart flutter

sometimes they make you cry

he's quite sentimental

leo always tells you he does better writing down his feelings than he is saying it out loud because he can organize his thoughts better

you know that leo has a hard time with that because of how he grew up

when you guys have an argument, which isn't very often, he writes his feelings down on paper

he's always quick to apologize if he did something wrong, and the notes help him form the apology that you deserve, and you're quick to forgive him

once, you were super angry after an argument, so you locked yourself in your shared bedroom

you needed to calm yourself down

the both of you much too angry and stubborn to make a compromise

as your recollecting yourself, 40 minutes in, a folded piece of paper slips from under the door

the letter has teardrop stains, and the ink is slightly smudged

on the paper, it's all his thoughts written out in the best way he can explain them

after reading what he wrote, you quickly deemed that whatever you were fighting about was silly, and you guys made up

you love his spontaneous notes so much that you do them back

you guys have a game of who can find the most creative hiding spot for your notes

one time you found one tapped to the inside of the toilet cover

you found it hilarious

you throw folded post-its with messages in his tool belt

he finds them during the day while he's working on something

after you joined in on the fun, he scatters notes in random places, and every few days, you find a new message hidden somewhere randomly

they're just so sweet; there’s never a time where they don't make you smile

gifts

this is a given

it's not a leo headcanon if gift-giving isn't included

he would make you things like roses from scrap metal to literal furniture

if you have a lot of jewelry, he will make you a cute jewelry box

if you're a big book reader, he'll make you bookcases to support your book collection

he's always giving you little trinkets that he made with leftover materials from projects

he loves making things for you and gets upset when you decide to buy something from ikea instead of asking him

"babe, why would you buy that? I could have just made it for you!"

when he's on his way from returning on his quest, sometimes he'll find something that reminds him of you in a store, and he'll buy it

when he has the money for it, he'd buy you a star :(

says that he spent even more money to buy an extra bright star

because "you're the sun in my universe"

brb gonna cry

also, he'd gift you a bond bracelet

you know, those bracelets where every time you tap on it, it makes the other person's bracelet vibrate

the both of you get anxious when one of you goes on quests, so the bracelets bring the other person who's at home comfort

because when you tap back, at least he knows you're alive and vice versa

one of the best gifts you've ever received from him was your engagement ring

he made it himself

he took so much care and effort into making it

imagine leo forging your wedding ring himself??? i'm in spain with no s

he was so nervous that you wouldn't like the style, so he had piper casually bring it up to you

piper was so nonchalant about it that you didn't even think twice about the question

the ring has the prettiest gemstone or diamond (whatever you prefer)

you cried so hard when he told you he made it himself that you couldn't even say yes to his proposal clearly

he makes both of your wedding bands too

he carves a saying that's dear to the both of you on the inside

this is nothing to do with anything but imagine when you guys have kids, he makes animals out of pipe cleaners for them i'm gonna cry, brb pt 2

overall, whether he makes the present himself or not, he puts a lot of effort and care into it

every gift has a meaning and a place dear to your heart

cooking for you

leo is canoningly a good cook

he loves cooking for you

and you love eating what he makes

he's usually busy on the weekdays, so he cooks on the weekends

you guys always joke that he'd be the cutest househusband

you got him an apron for Christmas as a joke gift one year, and he wears it all the time

there's something so charming about him wearing an apron with a funny saying like "Mr. Good Lookin is Cookin" or with like a ripped out shirtless guy in front of it

you giggle every time you see him wearing it

oh, no matter how many times you've seen it, it's still so bizarre when he takes out hot trays from the oven with his BARE hands

everything he makes tastes amazing

he makes all kinds of food and is always trying something new

if you tell him what you’re craving, he’ll cook it for you

once he woke you up to ask if you wanted ribs… it was 3 am but like, of course, you wanted some

unless you're vegetarian or vegan, sorry, HAHA

often though, he does make Mexican food

it reminds him of when his mom was alive

he always has some story to share

every time he makes caldo de pollo (chicken soup), he always talks about how his mother would make it in the summer and that when he was little, he would always complain about eating hot soup in hot weather

you know he doesn't notice his constant telling of this story, but you don't mind

it's so bittersweet when he talks about his mom

through the cooking of his traditional food, you feel closer to him and his late mother

the memories he shares with you makes your eyes sting with tears

especially when leo says how much he wishes that esperanza could have met you

sorry, that was a little emo

also, leo usually wakes up earlier than you

he knows you're a sleepyhead, so he'll cook breakfast for you

so that when you're running around in the morning trying to get dressed and your things together

you never leave the house hungry because there's always a tupperware filled with breakfast, and if he has enough time, he'll fix you something to take for lunch too

if you come home late from work or school, he'll make dinner even if he's tired to surprise you

so many times you've come home from a shitty day at work or school, and the small table where you guys eat your meals is all set up with your favorite food

leo greets you by peeking his head into the hallway from the kitchen, tossed curls, cheerful brown eyes, and a bright grin

"I hope you're hungry," he says, despite knowing that you are hungry

and then you guys talk and laugh together over a delicious meal

compliments

leo's really observant

he notices when you’re in a bad mood, even if you try not to show it

he also notices when you change little things about your appearance

if you get a haircut or you get your nails done, he'll comment on it right away

especially outfits

if you buy something new, he'll complement it

imagine standing in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in your new outfit

leo comes behind you, his hands coming around your waist

he'll pepper kisses on your neck, a soft hum leaving his lips as he meets your eyes in the mirror

"is this new, mi amor?" he asks, hands running up your sides

once you affirm that it is a new dress or shirt, he'll smile and tell you how beautiful you look in it

maybe says he'd rather see it off of you wink wink

there's never a day where he doesn't compliment you

he thinks you're the prettiest person in the world

you've caught him staring at you lovingly plenty of times

he's just asking himself how did he manage to get someone as beautiful and amazing as you

you always squirm under his gaze and playfully ask what is he looking at

"you're so pretty, mi amor. I can't help it."

AHHH!!!!

alongside the endearment of mi amor, he'd always call you bonita and hermosa

you're so sweet to him, and he can't help but tell you how much you mean to him every chance he gets

surprises

leo is an acts of service kind of guy

i think he'll spontaneously do things to make you happy

if you've been busy studying for finals or just beat up from a day at work

he'll draw you a bath

or he'll cut up some fruit for you and leave it at your desk

he randomly buys you flowers

he never needs an occasion to buy your flowers

it'll be a regular tuesday, leo just happened to walk past a store with flowers displayed in the front, and he thought about how bright your smile would be if he showed up with a bouquet

I feel like he's pretty introverted, enjoys being at home with you

the both of you are pretty broke for a while, so a lot of dates were at home

leo made the most of it

you guys will have nice dinners at home

he'll set the table nicely, set the mood with candles

he'll redecorate the space so well you feel like you're at an actual restaurant

and of course, his food is amazing

breakfast in bed is another thing he'd do for you unsolicited

especially if you guys had a looong night wink wink

you're woken up by his still groggy voice, fluttering kisses on your cheeks

you open your eyes to see he's set a tray with your favorite breakfast on top of the bed

the two of you will eat breakfast together, which usually leads to you staying in bed for the rest of the day

just enjoying the warm cocoon your sheets create around the both of you

overall, he's super observant and caring, and he goes the extra mile to make sure you're happy because he knows you do the same

anyways, does anyone know where I can get a leo?

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @Slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky

[forbidding-souda]

can you do shuichi and a female s/o having a very cute romantic ballroom dancing moment with slow dancing music in the back?💖

Shuichi Saihara with dancing with his female S/O

ballroom aesthetic tiktok corner anyways i'm using a stephen king book so help me write this. i also just realized his name is stephen and not steven.

anyways i see other blogs and it makes me so jealou like they're so organized and pro at tumblr and i still can't figure out how to tag things right :|

currently listening: stab stab stab by nothing but losers

-Mod Souda

❤ The handkerchief was still in your pocket, much softer and cleaner than the one he had given to you. You pull it out without a second thought and raised it into the air to beckon him over. You seized the nearest glass of wine with your other hand, picking it from a nearby waitress.

❤ His blue hair peeks through the crowd. That red handkerchief points to him, drawing him in, a lure to a fish. He walks towards you. At one point he almost bumped into a dancing couple as he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. The embarrassment didn't stop until he looked you in the eyes. Then, with his heart beating at his normal pace, he reached out his hand to you.

❤ There was a classroom on an April morning. The teacher was doing a headcount of the students walking in. There were two missing. There was no sign of you anywhere, but they knew exactly when your footsteps would show up, minutes late, because you never seemed to show up on time. If Shuichi was inside - doing his work, quietly, as he always did - the day would be like any other. But in the bathroom, underneath the writing ME + YOU were two students hiding in a stall together.

❤ You put your hand in his, squeezed it briefly, and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. The ignited feeling died down, and the creeping feeling - anxiety, as they call it, from being in practically the middle of the room - starting in your stomach before becoming palpable. Contagious, even.

❤ He knows one thing for sure. You are the only one he'd want to share these feelings with. The internal tingling is a little too close to his heart.

❤ "Is it time to dance?" He asked. "Or are you... not ready?"

❤ The lack of confidence grew as he continued.

❤ "We are already holding hands." You said. And you put the empty glass of wine back onto a tray.

❤ The urgency of intimacy grows, and you both decide to head into the heart of the ballroom. Your dress trails behind you. You've not danced with him this way. There's not much that could go wrong. There's certainly a lot of things that could cause, say, extreme embarrassment, but that's all a part of the experience.

❤ Over the next few minutes, the time it took him to relax in the presence of other people was surprising to him. Surprising because he had never felt calmer; and without his hat, it's a bit hard to hide from people and their eyes. He supposed that this is how most people his age feel.

❤ The sense of being watched grew stronger with every one of your steps, especially after he had taken time to dip you. Using your hand (the same hand that had scribbled ME + YOU on the bathroom wall) you cupped his cheek, trying to ease him, even when there was no anxiety to ease. He felt perfectly safe with you.

❤ You both moved along with the rhythm, him in the lead, as you twist and swirl throughout the songs. The orchestra, a cicada of violins and stringed instruments, plays at a slower tempo than the previous songs. It's almost romantic. Not as romantic as sharing kisses in a school's bathroom, gendered, but neither of you cared.

❤ You found yourself humming along. You didn't recognize the song - it could have been anything - and the melody didn't repeat. But it was an easy way to bask at this moment. With his hands on your hips and your hands on his upper half, it's easy to get lost in the love. Yet, that's not your goal nor an achievement you wanted to excel in.

❤ When the song stopped all you could do was look him in the eye. The people stopped dancing, and so did you. In another world, this could have been your moment to express your love, or any positive words all. Instead, you settled with placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. It said more than any of your soft-spoken words could.

[levihantrash]

Chapter 7: Scaredy Cats || Shitty Comics and Their Shitty Artists || levihan fanfiction

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

---

If you want to check out the previous chapters:

Chapter 1: Free Bread (ao3 / tumblr)

Chapter 2: New Friends (ao3 / tumblr)

Chapter 3: Bean (ao3 / tumblr)

Chapter 4: Good Actors (ao3 / tumblr)

Chapter 5: Titan Tears (ao3 / tumblr)

Chapter 6: Sober Confessions (ao3 / tumblr )

-----

Chapter 7: Scaredy Cats

The workplace injury came as a shock.

An innocuous puddle of water, spilt by a student, outside the janitor’s closet, had caused him to slip and fall, fracturing his arm and leg.

What comes afterwards was less of a shock—Hange popping in and out of rooms with a flimsy clipboard and sheets of petition paper that read at the top:

LABOUR INJUSTICE: PAY OUR WORKERS FAIRLY AND PROVIDE PAID MEDICAL LEAVE

The feeling of once again being beholden to Hange’s insistent kindness unsettled Levi. He had (predictably) forced himself out of the hospital bed as early as possible, which had less to do with pride than the university covering none of the expenses. Injured limbs were economic liabilities that he did not want to pay for.

“Levi! What are you doing here?” Hange caught sight of him holding the sling that carried his bandaged arm gingerly, scowl deeply engraved.

“What are you doing?” Levi countered. The thought that Hange had started a whole campaign due to his momentary negligence left an acidity in his mouth.

“Don’t you dare think that this is your fault,” Hange said, reading his expression of guilt. Holding his arm carefully and uncapping a thick marker with their front teeth, Hange signed his cast with flourish.

Embittered, Levi gritted his teeth. “Why do you keep helping me? I told you. I don’t need your help.”

“What’s wrong, Levi?” Hange stretched out for his arm, just as Levi retracted it from their reach.

“I can take care of myself.”

Hange frowned, frustration starting to break through. “Do you feel indebted to me? Is that it?”

“I don’t need your help. What’s done has been done.”

Increasingly exasperated, Hange folded their arms. “I’m not just helping you, Levi! I’m helping other workers.”

“So you don’t care if I lose my job over this?”

“Well I—you���re not going to lose your job!”

The light scoff that came out of Levi grated on Hange's nerves more than they were aware of.

“Well you wouldn’t know about job precarity.” The accusation came out like an excuse, which sent a wave of guilt into Levi like a knife.

Hange was visibly hurt. “Now that’s just low.”

His gaze hardened. “You keep helping me. Doing all these things. Then you confess to me. Then you even campaign after I get injured.”

“What’s the problem?” Hange asked, attempting to get a grip on the derailing conversation.

“I’m just uselessly accepting your help.”

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” Hange exclaimed, louder than they intended to.

Levi looked pointedly at them.

“Try saying that to someone who has never received the amount of support that I have in the past ten months in the past ten years.”

Hange let slip their words, glazed by a history of disappointment. “Is this an ego thing? Do you want to prove your masculinity to me?”

There was a reaction of bewilderment from Levi, then resignation. “No Hange. It’s just me. I’m going to take the day off, like you told me to.”

“Fine.” A poisonous feeling twisted itself in Hange’s stomach. They stuffed down their anger, watching the back of Levi grow smaller in the distance.

-----

Hange's usual coping method whenever conflict arose was to work themselves to death; to give themselves no room for processing emotions. Nevertheless, in the gaps of silence, lingering thoughts of Levi surfaced. Hange had understood: his defensiveness, his pain, his seemingly transactional view of their relationship. But the fact that he insisted on that narrative—that he couldn’t owe Hange anything, like Hange was doing this to be a saviour—buried the good intentions Hange initially had to hear him out.

Meanwhile, even on his day off, Levi cleaned everything. Every surface: his own, the counters, the floors, even the walls. He knew there was no point in sleeping, so he went for a walk instead. He walked and walked and all he could think about was how Hange was likely sleep-deprived and may get into a car accident if they even attempted to cross the road. So he tried focusing his attention on other mundane things. Like the foliage that he appreciated at dawn, and the breeze of the evening that calmed him down on his walks home.

But the itch to connect everything to Hange didn’t go away. Each sway of the trees reminded him of how Hange would (pretend) to lose their balance and sneak a hand on his waist. Each crunch of the leaves under his boots gave off the sound of Bean scratching the chair, which in turn, gave him the image of Hange chiding Bean, only to give him a snack later on. Classic cat owner servitude. That’s why that brat never learnt.

Levi rubbed his temples, helplessly plodding in a seemingly random direction that led him to the doorstep of Hange’s apartment, sweating, and in his opinion, absolutely filthy.

Onyankopon and Pieck invited him in, no questions asked.

"They might be back for their things soon," Onyankopon said warmly, casting a meaningful glance at Hange's ajar bedroom door. What Levi didn’t notice was Onyankopon reaching into his back pocket to send a quick text to Hange.

-----

Pieck opened the door to a lanky professor—an-out-of-breath one, with one hand on their hip and the other holding onto the door frame for support.

“He’s in your room,” Pieck said mildly.

“Thanks Pieck,” Hange said, utterly drained and grateful.

Levi’s eyes flickered, adjusting to the light Hange had turned on.

“You’re back.” It pained Hange to see him sitting on the tiny wooden chair. He looked even tinier than usual. Almost gaunt.

“You’re here.”

Eyeing the much more comfortable bed next to him, Hange sighed. “You could've taken the bed."

"I wasn't planning on sleeping.”

“You should take a shower. You stink.”

“That’s bold coming from you.” The side of Hange’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“There's something more important than showering,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I'm sure it can wait,” Hange insisted, almost desperate to avoid the impending conversation.

“No it can't.” He reached out towards them instinctively, faltered, and the hand fell back on his lap. It distressed Hange to witness the distance.

“I’m sorry Levi.”

“I’m sorry too.”

Hange laughed humourlessly, sitting on the floor, back to the bedside. “How did it come to this?”

“Fear,” Levi said, as though he had been waiting all night to provide some profound, hard-hitting wisdom.

"So we're just scaredy cats huh?”

Bean yawned, plodding into the space between them, preferring the softness of the bed after some contemplation.

"Mikasa told me... That you're scared of losing people again... I assumed it was because you were like so many other men..."

"I know. Pieck told me. Narrow assholes."

"Narrow assholes?" Hange asked cautiously.

"Their sphincters are giving out low-quality crusty shit." A small choke escaped Hange. The imaginative description of Levi’s insults never failed to touch and disturb Hange.

“I didn't ask you to explain the shit analogy."

The bed creaked to the side as Bean leapt off.

“So you’re afraid of loss?” Hange questioned gently.

Levi longed for the fluffy, warm body of Bean nonchalantly curled up by his side. Bean, ignorant of his affliction, licked its paws by the window.

When he spoke, he felt distinctly like it was a flimsy excuse. "Life is fragile. So are people."

A delicate pause passed by. "I think you're more afraid of receiving help."

Levi tone was even. "That’s a load of crap. I let you help me."

"Yeah, when I force it down your throat like I'm feeding you poison."

"You're one to talk.” His sardonic tone alerted Bean to his side, purring warningly. Levi’s eyes narrowed. Huh, so that cat did care about Hange.

Hange felt no such danger, scooting over with apparent annoyance. “I let my friends help me. You barely tell anyone your troubles. You try to solve everything on your own!"

“People die," To Levi, saying it out loud was a prophetic assurance that everything, everyone, will dissipate.

Hange, on the other hand, looked relieved. The weight of the conversation broke down into more manageable pieces that Hange could pick up, ask questions about, instead of confronting it as an immovable boulder.

"I hate to break it to you, but people die every day. Why let that stop you from living? Why let that stop you from living today, if people might die tomorrow?"

“Then what does living look like?” Resignation burned inside, even as an aching hopefulness prevailed.

“I think it starts with a kiss.” Levi couldn’t tell if Hange was joking or not, but their burnt cheeks told him otherwise.

It took all of Levi’s willpower to steer the conversation forward. "Not yet. Tell me. You’re afraid of judgement? Because of who you are?"

"No... I'm afraid of rejection. That you're going to take a second look at me and be disgusted. That you're going to find someone more' man', more 'woman', or so they claim. Someone that doesn't confuse them.” Hange’s eyes lost their shine, and their tall frame seemed shrunken. 

Incredulity shot a renewed sense of energy into Levi. "That's bullshit.”

“Or you’re going to think I spend too much time working—I’m trying to work on that—and dump me for the next burnt-out professor.” A more plausible reason, Hange thought.

“I don’t have a professor kink.”

Hange’s snort breathed life back into the room. “That’s what you got out of what I said?”

Levi sighed, like the solution was as clear as day. “We work together, Hange. I’m not unaware of your working habits.”

“You’re going to get tired of me.”

“We can’t predict everything. We don’t even know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

Hange, uprooted by the fact that Levi was speaking sense, replied dryly, "Says the person waiting for death's arrival."

Levi sighed, which was unusual. He would grunt, expressionless, but rarely did he show any sign of deadbeat exhaustion.

"It is exactly because I can't predict everything that it makes me scared."

Hange softened, their spiky defensiveness settling down. "Sorry, that was a bad jibe."

Levi accepted the apology without comment. Hange's words, rather than sharp, wore on their sleeve the grains of truth he had been content with avoiding. Now, with his toes in between the sand, it didn't feel half as bad. With a blaise gesture that contrasted with the caution he exuded, Levi held Hange’s gaze for an awfully long second.

“What you should know is that your love is not unrequited."

Taking in the brevity of how he resolved the tension, Hange let out a deep sigh. “I can feel that.”

Securing Hange with a firm, gentle hand behind their neck, Levi cracked out a wry grin.

“Good. So where’s my kiss?”

-----

The following week, Hange continued rallying the professors and students to pressure the university to pay workers more and provide medical leave. To no one’s surprise, Erwin’s benevolent charisma proved to be extremely useful to the campaign.

Even with their reassurance, Hange could sense Levi’s disbelief.

“You don’t think I’m just a writer who sits at their desk, who writes and ignores the world around them?”

“I thought you said books were revolutionary.”

“They are! Just that books alone cannot change the world, though. I’m aware of that. Not everyone is moved by books.”

“What about the comic we’re working on?”

Smiling faintly at how invested he was in the temporary halt of their collaborative project, Hange shook their head adamantly.

“You know I can’t stay out of action.”

“How can I help?”

Hange beamed. “You rest. You’ve done more than enough.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

Their arm looped around Levi’s, spilling out their admiration. “Despite what you said about minding your own business, I heard from the other cleaners this morning. You told the bosses that you won’t take a pay cut. And you won’t allow a pay cut for your other colleagues either.”

“I didn’t say that,” he grumbled, enjoying how tightly Hange’s arm had wound around his. “It’s a miracle they haven’t fired you.”

Hange let out a short laugh. “It’s a good thing this university cares about its reputation.” 

Levi, acknowledging that Hange was risking their career, knew better to keep his mouth shut. He could easily find another job. It was probably harder to find another university to take in a whistle-blower.

“Be careful,” he said, without an ounce of sympathy or apology that would have only upset Hange. Hange, who would have done it regardless of whether it was him or the next person.

What Hange wouldn’t have done for a random injured worker was to spend every day by his side, sliding between impassioned disgust at the institution and grave concern for his well-being.

“It’s just a fracture,” he had reiterated. Still, Levi never told Hange to leave. Therefore, Hange stayed, patiently tilting cups of water for him to drink, wiping the sweat from his fringe, feeding him awfully bland hospital food, and more importantly, keeping him company in the dreariness of a hospital room. Naturally, Hange had pestered Levi that since he wouldn’t stop moving, his arm wouldn’t properly heal. Besides, the university’s hospital provided free medical care for all workers.

“They didn’t tell you this when you broke your arm?” Hange had asked, and Levi only sullenly shook his head.

The room reflected an appalling staleness that contrasted with his preference for the vitality of nature. Save for the flowers that sat by the window (once again, courtesy of the tenacious Hange), the room felt severe, lonely, and reminded him of the awfulness of his mother’s last days.

“Should I bring you more flowers?” Hange mused, picking up a stray petal beside the vase.

“Don’t waste your money.”

“It’s not a waste if it makes you happy.” Hange delighted in the stilted manner Levi drew the blanket higher with his un-casted arm as he called Hange a fucking embarrassment.

“I do want to make you happy, though.”

“Are you an idiot? You already make me happy.” Levi was getting better with expressing his feelings, at least to Hange, these days. Even if it was prefaced and seasoned with more foul, prickly language.

“Oh? How so?”

“You know how so.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” Hange insisted, looking over their shoulder to waggle their brows in the most endearingly irritating fashion.

The blanket by now was drawn so high it covered up to Levi’s chin.

“By being here. It makes me happy. Happy?”

“Best use of my leave,” Hange said, finally satisfied enough with the answer to return to their seat beside Levi. Tentatively, they lay their head on his chest, as Levi automatically brought his hand to their tired half-ponytail, loosening it further by dragging his fingers through it. The action never failed to soothe them, as Hange’s breathing slowed into a quiet slumber.

“Remember how we confessed that night?” Hange mumbled, the drowsiness sinking in deeper each time Levi smoothed his fingers into their hair.

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, are you blush—”

“Hello, you two,” the gravelly voice of Erwin passed into the room, causing Hange to, with some dignity, straighten themselves back up on the chair. Levi nodded in his direction, reluctantly hiding his hands under the blanket.

Erwin strode in, obviously having witnessed their intimacy. “Keeping snacks under the blanket?”

“Can you get Hange something to eat?” Levi requested blandly. “Get them some fresh air too.”

“Levi, I don’t need—”

“Go, you haven’t left this room in hours except to pee and shit.”

“Neither have you!”

“I’m supposed to be here, resting. You’ve been talking my ear off. Go get some food and let me sleep.”

Uncharacteristically lost, Hange spluttered, “just say you care for me!”

“I do.” The tips of his ears tinted pink, but Hange was far too preoccupied with what they heard than what they saw.

“Levi!” Hange nearly screeched, quickly looking around as if caught in an illicit relationship. “That wasn’t part of the script!”

Levi merely smiled, which made it all the more terrifying.

“Just take them and leave,” he instructed Erwin.

“The patient’s word takes precedence,” Erwin said, gently hooking his arm with Hange’s to bring them to the nearest cafeteria. The serene posture that Levi had, so contentedly looking out of the window, bloomed a deep sense of relief in Erwin.

“Hange.”

“Huh?” Snatched out of their reverie, Hange unhooked their arm away from Erwin, ready to head back to the hospital room.

“Is there something on your mind?”

Slumping their shoulders, Hange scrunched up their eyes in frustration. “I feel like I’ll fuck it up.”

“There you go again, worrying about something that hasn’t happened.” Erwin was a sea of calm, which was what Hange wanted to cling onto. The dread muddled her insides, and even the sea couldn’t truly untangle it all.

“It did! We just had a…. misunderstanding.”

“And?” Erwin asked, knowing full well what the outcome was.

“We… talked it out. Eventually.” Hange was beginning to feel rather weak in argumentation.

A passing cloud of a smirk crossed Erwin’s lips. “Clearly.”

“But what if it happens again? There’s so much pressure to… make someone happy.”

“I don’t think Levi needs your help to be happy.”

“I don’t want to make him unhappy.”

Erwin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Unless I’m mistaken, he is happier than he has ever outwardly expressed. You are a joyous addition to his life, but it would be rather presumptuous to think he is betting his happiness on you entirely. You are, first and foremost, a dear friend to him.”

Footsteps approached the duo. Levi’s previous contentment had been replaced by his usual wariness and a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“What? Is Hange scared that I’ll die for them or something? Dedicate my heart to them in the name of the Survey Corps?”

“Levi! Why are you out of bed?”

“I broke my arm, not my leg. And both of you weren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“If life was meant to be perfect, I would have my mother and you wouldn’t have homophobic parents.”

Crossing his arms, he continued, “besides, you’re so self-righteous when it comes to my rights, why not be courageous when it comes to our relationship too?”

“He has a very good point,” Erwin interjected.

“You’re right, Levi. I was overthinking again.”

Levi merely shrugged, back to his silent self. Hange caught the slight grimace he made when moving his right arm, immediately concerned.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Not until you get some rest.”

“What if I get you to bed, then I’ll go get a quick bite with Erwin?”

“Erwin, you have to make sure something enters their stomach.”

Erwin figured this was karma for the time when Levi had to babysit him through three hours of drunk rambling about his father forcing him to carry on a Victorian Literature legacy, and complied with Levi’s request.

“You can trust me.”

“I do,” Levi said seriously. Erwin almost swooned.

Hange huffed, then swept him off his feet and marched back into the hospital room. While caught off guard, Levi didn’t seem too displeased.

“You smell okay,” he said, almost suspicious.

“Thank you. I was afraid my pre-shower stink might wither the flowers.”

“Go rest. I’ll still be here.”

“Then I’ll be here.” Hange prodded a finger at the left side of his chest, a genuine twinkle in their eyes. Levi didn’t retort or come up with a clever remark. He very quietly held onto the rest of Hange’s fingers, in spite of himself.

“Yeah. You’ll be.”

Hange had the urge to eat their tongue in a fit of loving sentiment. This dork will be the death of their trembling, flaky heart.

AO3 Link

[dangerous-advantage]

Tommyinnit Headcanons

I know I should be writing my search-and-rescue SBI fanfic, but I've decided to work on a oneshot (twoshot maybe?) instead. Have some Tommy headcanons for the universe I'm writing right now:

-Tommy doesn't like eating in front of other people. It makes him feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, and he's a big man, after all.

-Tommy actually has goose wings! I recently read a fic with him having goose wings that was really good a little bit ago, but I’ve had the idea for a while! Not only do they fit his personality, geese can also symbolize unjust exile in Chinese poetry (obscure, I know) so I think it fits even more!

-Tommy is very closed off, but he isn’t very good at moderating his body language, so if you know what to look for, you can see exactly what he is feeling at any moment. When he’s worried or feels threatened, he’ll always draw his hands closer to his chest, and will usually stand with his legs spread apart a bit (power stance.)

-Tommy has several main stims. When he’s standing still, he tends to gently rock from side to side, replacing his weight on his feet. He gesticulates a lot when he talks about something he’s passionate about. When he’s sitting, he likes to bounce one leg on the ground. When impatient and he’s sitting, he’ll swing his legs back and forth. When he’s excited or nervous about something, he’ll bite and lick at his lips a lot.

- Because of this, his lips are always dry and bitten.

-When he’s bored, he likes to arrange his sundry of smaller belongings into different groups. He likes his things to be organized, but only in a way that he would understand.

-He has several shiny, interesting things that he finds and takes. Whether they be interesting, clinky rocks, smooth pieces of wire that feel nice in his hands, one shiny earring which he never found the match for, etc.

-Tommy doesn’t really like jewelry or care about his appearance in general, but he really likes rings. He’ll usually find less-expensive looking ones, or make them out of wires and things he finds, and he likes to wear as many as he can.

-Tommy likes to tinker with things, especially wires. He likes making things, especially the shapes of little animals. It’s something he’ll do without even realizing it sometimes.

-Tommy is very dextrous and tactile-based. He likes to touch things, feel their texture.

-This also means that there are some textures that he is very adverse to! Some of these include the texture of things like flour and powdered sugar, felt, pipe cleaners, and spongy, damp things.

-He hates it when his fingernails are dirty. This means he spends a lot of time cleaning them out, almost obsessively sometimes.

-When he is relaxed, he’ll use a lot of sarcasm and playful teasing in his speech. He also starts a lot of his sentences with ‘well,’ and ‘hey.’

-Tommy has a lot of foods he’ll avoid eating because of the texture. He also has a lot of foods he can’t eat because of allergies (allergic to most seafood and quite a few more “exotic” fruits, such as pineapples, coconuts, and bananas.)

-Tommy is very attached to his belongings and likes to give some of them “human” traits, such as names and personalities. If he accidentally loses them, he will be crushed. He doesn’t really get gifts often (if ever,) and so when people give him things, he tends to treasure those items even more. Though he doesn’t like anyone touching his stuff, he is especially protective of gifts and tends to hide them away.

-Tends to talk to himself a lot. He also hums a lot. You get the feeling he doesn’t like silence.

-He hates it when people talk about things he doesn’t know or understand. He wants to seem like he knows everything, so being out of the loop makes him very uncomfortable.

-He has to be in control of himself. What I mean by that is he literally cannot abide by the rules of others (to a certain extent) and hates it when people try to make him “tame.”

-He is very time blind, and can rarely adhere to a strict schedule, which is a problem because he can only really get things done if he is on a schedule.

He is quite clumsy and very reckless and tends to get hurt easily. Because of this, he is constantly covered in bandages. On his face, his knees, his hands- nobody knows exactly where he gets the resources to constantly be putting on bandages, but they don’t question it.

-He hates being chastised, especially by people whom he looks up to. This is very counter-intuitive, seeing as he is a rebellious little shit, but rejection from those he looks up to can literally be crushing.

-He doesn’t cry when he’s sad- instead, he cries when he gets overly frustrated, and he hates it. He’ll usually run off to lick his wounds in private.

[lostinwildflowers]

hello!! i have come to give my congrats to you on 800 followers (holy shit, you deserve it!!) and inquire about the event!! if there are still spots open, i'd love to request one, but if not, feel free to disregard this ask :)

my name is jessica, i'm 19 (gonna be 20 in like 2 weeks -_-). im a film major in college right now, and I'm going to be starting a minor in Japanese next semester. I really want to do screenwriting or tv writing in the future bc i really like storytelling and worldbuilding, but we'll see how that goes lmao. the film industry is brutal. i like to draw and read in my free time, or just listen to music and disassociate yk -- anything that allows me to be immersed in something bc my psychiatrist said that's good for my anxiety :D we love mental illness. ig personality-wise im pretty chill?? but im also a bit of a perfectionist and i tend to be pretty organized (if that makes sense lmao). I tend to have either really weird or dark humor and i hyper-fixate on things really easily. i am more introverted though and it takes me a while to open up to people fully -- i have to be REALLY comfortable with them. i can also be really stubborn, especially when i think im right and ESPECIALLY when think im right and later find out im wrong :/ im working on it. I've been told im a really good listener tho, and good at giving advice. also i like cats :) OH and one of my fatal flaws is that if i really REALLY don't want to do something, will literally do anything else before that, and normally that ends up being cleaning. once i vacuumed the entire apartment bc i didn't want to write the outline for an essay.

for the character i'd be fine with either oikawa or sakusa from haikyuu, whichever one you want to feel is easier for you to write for!! and if you could do option 3 that'd be great! something fluffy, i think, but honestly, whatever you write i will absolutely love. go crazy! i just don't want to cry, i don't need the sadness :( aot is already destroying me every week.

thanks and have a great day!!!!!!!! congrats again :))

Hehe oopsie! This is just over 400 words XD I couldn't stop myself! Thank you for your support, I hope you enjoy this little drabble!

---

“My love?”

Oikawa had just gotten back to your shared apartment, and was confused at the sound of the vacuum cleaner running as well as wipes on the counter and the trash sitting next to the door.

In his hands he held a small carrier- a surprise for you, actually. You had been very busy with school and working towards getting possible internship, so he decided you needed a little something.

As he walks further into the apartment, he can see your sketchbook resting on the table in the living room, and he quirks an eyebrow toward your bedroom, where the noise was coming frmo.

He gently sets down the carrier before sliding into the room, his eyes catching on your figure, noting the tension in your shoulders and the stressed look on your face.

“Jessica,” he tries again, calling over the sound of the vacuum. This time, you hear Oikawa, and your eyes light up at the sight of him.

You turn the vacuum off, walking over to him and burying your face in his chest. He just chuckles and brings a hair up to rub at your head as he mumbles, “Hello to you too.”

“Sorry Tooru… I’ve been really stressed and busy today, and I have an analysis due Thursday-” “Shh shh, it’s okay, I got you a little something,” he cuts in gently, pushing you back so he could gage the reaction on your face.

You just look confused and he knows this will be perfect. He gestures to the living room and says, “C’mon, lets go.” You just follow him silently, your mind racing as to what he could have gotten you.

And that’s when you catch sight of the cat carrier sitting in the middle of the living room, and the soft meows coming from within it. Your mouth drops as you turn in shock to Oikawa, who just proudly grins at you.

“You got me a cat?!” you yelp as you race over the carrier, dropping to your knees to see the small brown kitten inside. Oikawa sits down next to you and says, “He’s all yours, Jess. I got all the supplies and stuff, they should be delivered in a couple hours. I thought you might need a study buddy.”

You turn away from the kitten and toward your boyfriend, pouncing on him and attacking him with kisses.

“Thank you so much! What are we going to name him?!” “I thought we could call him Oikawa Junior.” “Absolutely not!”

---

THIS EVENT IS CLOSED