#in the meantime have this

[faoluoo]

cant have shit in detroit

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

yeah i don’t think any of you should be surprised by this point

have the yashiro commission

[ghostlychokko]

See how it hurts when the sound begins to ring…

[jihef03]

Little Harry

[princedest1ny]

Im standing here being like yes a fully automated max power steam engine is totally a normal thing to spend an afternoon on

No it is not. Like, why did I do this.

[hazelcallahan]

who else cheered

[cremanata]

brazilian miku ♡

twitter | ig | patreon

[phantomrose96]

I think we should have a turn of phrase for "I'm not in the right, but I AM annoyed with this situation, so I just need to go bitch to a friend about this before I suck it up and go do the right thing" because more and more I'm finding this is a critical element of functional adulthood.

[clxssclxwn]

VERSES

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid.

Default verse for anything that takes place in the canon AoT universe. If you're here, it's probably safe to assume you already know the story so I won't bore you with the details. Connie will range in age from 15-19 depending on context.

Modern Verse TBA.

Default verse for threads set in the present day, most likely featuring a college age Connie (19-23). He's in a fraternity with Reiner and a few of our other favorite boys. Spends a lot of his time partying and the rest of his time slacking off. No one quite understands how he got accepted to university, or how he hasn't been kicked out yet.

[valtsv]

my main advice for writing an enemies to lovers relationship is to resist the urge to make the characters' loathing and attraction mutually exclusive opposing forces. it's okay if they're getting weirdly into it and having Thoughts whilst also sincerely wanting to kill each other with hammers.

[welcomeleon]

just saying that i think leon deserves to get to lay beside his partner on a lazy sleepy morning and gently touch their cheek while he looks at them like they're his world

[angualupin]

One area where I feel like modern storytelling has let us down is this:

Sometimes you have to choose between evils.

I'm not talking about "situations in which it is unclear who is actually the villain" -- IMO there are too many of those stories recently -- but stories where it's clear that the good guys have no good options. Where the only choice you can make is the wrong one, because all of the choices are wrong, because not choosing is also a choice. Where the best you can do is to choose the lesser evil, or maybe, the greater good.

Because the preponderance of stories in which the hero, through virtue of his heroism, manages to make a good choice appear when the narrative has set him up to fail leads people to have little or no framework for making such a choice.

Because -- and let me be painfully clear about this -- in life there is often no good choice. The best you can hope for is the lesser evil.

But too many people have a moral framework wherein only bad people can choose a bad option, so when only bad options present themselves, people...... don't choose? Which is also a choice, and usually a worse one. Or they insist that if people only try hard enough, are "good" enough, then a good choice will present itself.

Most of the time, that doesn't happen. Most of the time, you have to choose harm reduction over harm abolition, and wishing the world were different, were better, means the world just gets worse while you sit around waiting.

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

This came to me in a vision

[egophiliac]

should've just let Vil be the one to fly, it would've gone SO much easier. 😔

also HEY how are everyone else's pulls going, because I have had the most RIDICULOUS luck, seriously, halloween magic is 100% real

[canisalbus]

[nanamiskentos]

❛ lousy liquor, loose lips ── 𝓖𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

✶ 𝓬𝔀 ｡⠀五条悟 ㅤ&ㅤsfw ㅤ( 660 ) gojo is drunk and very much in love w/ you

"you're really so lucky that i like you," you're huffing, tightening your grip around gojo's firm waist, letting him sway against you as he's practically one drink away from belting out sea shanties in the quiet streets of tokyo, "i should have left you on the side of the road." the idiot's still half-laughing, half-stumbling down the empty corridor.

but now he's leaning heavier against you, a beefy arm draped lazily around your shoulders, and the scent of sake has mingled with his expensive cologne, "you like me?" echoing, but you can hear the teasing tone in his slurs.

"that's what you took from my words?" you adjust your hold, cursing under your breath, "you're six-foot-something of dead weight right now. focus on walking."

"not a fan," gojo grins, head lolling towards you so soft strands of white hair brush your cheek in soft, petal-light kisses. his blindfold is shoved up onto his forehead, exposing glassy, flushed skin and hazy blue eyes, "i can teleport, y'know. being the strongest and all that shit."

you yank his staff uniform collar, hard. pulling gojo back from running towards a stray cat and making ridiculous baby noises, rolling your eyes, "then, pray tell, why aren't you using it?"

"because," gojo stops walking entirely, making you stumble with the sudden halt, "i wanted to spend more time with you." gojo, being the grown man he is, has the audacity to top off his little sentence with a giggle and a teehee.

but you're doing your best to drown the frozen block of ice leaping into your throat. gojo's drunk, so very drunk and off his rocket, but you're not an idiot and you definitely don't miss the uncharacteristic softness painting his creamy cheeks awash in a pretty, berry shade of watercolour.

"satoru...," you're warning, doing your best to not buckle under the weight of the strongest sorcerer alive as he patters up the stairs.

but gojo's just smiling, slower this time, and more genuine, "you never call me that."

"because it makes you smug." you're reaching into his pockets, practically wrapped up against him as you fumble for his apartment keys. and he just lets you.

"i like it when you say my name," gojo's leaning in, forehead nearly pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel small puffs of hot air against your burning skin, "i like a lot of things 'bout you."

what a dangerous dilemma. drunk gojo was charming in a messy, unguarded way that left you defenceless, with a pounding, traitorous heart.

"you're going to regret saying all this tomorrow," you mutter, but your hands don't quite loosen up on him. yeah, you know that you like holding gojo satoru in your arms.

"or..." gojo's gentle grin widens, ocean-blue eyes wide as they search yours, "maybe i'll regret not saying all this sooner."

gojo's hand, so very calloused from battle wounds and bruises, are practically tracing hearts around your face. warm skin. brushing your cheek, thumb ghosting over your lower lip like he's going to kiss you.

and you want him to kiss you. so, rationally, what do you do next?

"well, yippee!" you yelp, pushing gojo's apartment door open so you can shove the ridiculously tall man in, "time for you to hit the hay, pal! talk to ya' tomorrow."

waving him off, ignoring his whines and whimpers as he's muttering to himself, tearing his blindfold off and chucking it on the pricey leather couch.

you just close the door abruptly in his face, gnawing at your inner cheek when you hear a sweet, crisp call from the other side of the wood, "i love you!" followed by a thump, most likely the sound of a grown, adult man crashing out on his couch — ready for a nasty hangover tomorrow morning.