#of course there is also option c) i'm just a dumbass

[kradogsrats]

I need to find some time to rewatch s2e4-7 or so for reasons(tm) but also just because something that tickles my brain occasionally is the forcefulness of the parallel drawn between Callum finally opening Harrow's letter and Amaya cracking open the magma titan and awakening it, because I feel like I don't fully understand what it's trying to say. Which means either they actually aren't saying anything at all by juxtaposing those scenes/actions very explicitly and dramatically, or they're saying something that won't be fully clear until we have access to some bigger picture of the narrative.

I absolutely cannot shake the thought that there's something there, because it's so clearly a thing, to me? The episode is literally called "Breaking the Seal." Both moments are the final moment of their respective arcs for the episode. They crack open the magma titan to forcibly take its physical/magical heart, and Callum opens Harrow's letter to receive the freely-given words of Harrow's heart. The intent to kill the magma titan is an act of strength/violence that Sarai has already denounced, and Harrow will denounce the same in favor of love in the letter. The magma titan's awakening could be seen as the beginning of Sarai's death (essentially the last "point of no return" that all the subsequent events chain from), while Callum opening the letter is explicitly the end of Harrow's death--Callum literally says aloud for the benefit of the audience that the letter is the last piece of Harrow remaining to him, and once he has read it, Harrow will truly be gone.

Also just... seals. Things that are sealed. Opening/freeing things. Keys. The Key of Aaravos in the letter. The "freeing" of the titan's heart bringing both broad salvation and personal sorrow.

...

idek man my mind is a fucking colander in a centrifuge

[invinciblerodent]

roughly 650-700 hours in, and I just went through Gale's resurrection protocol for the very first time, on my tactician playthrough, and man....

...... it'll be incredibly difficult to make Mara's a Karlach romance.

not because I wouldn't actually want to romance her (GOD I wanna do it so bad), but my girl, she just.... has a mind of her own. and that mind, it's so, so very conflicted. and full of so many holes. her brain? not even like Swiss cheese, but moreso like some sort of weird fizzy drink, just... bubbling away in there.

everyone is so mean to her. even though she's trying so hard to be nice, everyone seems to either treat her like a curiosity ("oh, we rarely see your kind up here!") or spit the word "drow" as if it was a slur (even though she's only kind of aware of what that even really means), when trying to share her concerns most just dismiss her off the cuff, and Gale... god, Gale is just so icredibly NICE to her in comparison.

He explains everything so patiently. His approval of her is by far the highest, he says things like "excellent question! :D", even praises her, shares little personal anecdotes without prompting (it's not like he holds information behind a paywall of favors, or like you have to pull each and every word from between his teeth with pliers like some others), and even though he didn't understand why and/or grasp the magnitude of the compulsion, he seemed to kind of... at least understand that she's concerned???? instead of blowing her off completely and handwaving it away???? And, and, when he can't answer a question (because it's about a secret, or personal, or whatever), he doesn't get angry, or disapprove, or make her feel like she violated his privacy by simply asking, only says "sorry, can't tell you that right now, but in due time. :)".

he's just.... head in my fucking hands, of course she'd feel incredibly drawn to him from the first goddamn moment, he's like basically the first person who's been genuinely kind to- and understanding of her (even before the tadpole, tbqh), and all that without ulterior motives, or assuming that she's dangerous, stupid, or evil. (even if he probably should have assumed that, on that latter part.)

how and why do i keep making characters who all fall at least a little bit in love with Gale Fucking Dekarios of Waterdeep

(I swear to fucking god nobody dare answer that :c)

(side note, frankly I'm baffled on how many dialogue options there are that let you say shit that amounts more or less to “uuuughhh bringing you back to life was SUUUCH a chore. be glad i didn't sell your stupid scroll, dick”, but none where you can say something like “Gale!!!! Gods, are you alright!!!! You died!!!!!! You're back!!!!!! I was so worried for you!!!!!!!! Of course I brought you back, wtf!!!!!!!!”.

I'd also have liked one to just.... start crying, tbqh.

it would have made sense for Mara specifically, to go through the instructions and the protocols with as intense a panicked focus as she can manage [no easy task, with a thick blueberry shake for brains], and as he's thanking her, and tapping himself to reconfirm that he's corporeal, to just.... start bawling. and to crumple into his arms. Like, he's her friend!!!! her good friend Gale, whom she had known all of three days!!!!!!! he died!!!! and now he's alive!!!!! omg that was so scary; don't do that again you silly man!!!!!!)

(babygirl was so rattled, she even got the mephit's name wrong like twice. no it wasn't me being a dumbass, i was in character, shush.)

[definitelynotplanetfall]

How do other countries do history education?

I know I'm doing the cringe thing but Americans are basically not taught about israel in school, at all. If it comes up it'll likely be in the context of literature class, not history.

Do you split up history classes over multiple years? Because the thing about history class is that it's just mostly a huge number of raw facts to remember. It's not like math where if you know certain procedures you can re-derive things you've forgotten; pretty much any such proposed rule of history is likely to be bunk.

So if you take the number of years of history you have to teach times the detail level you're aiming for times the size of the region you're trying to study, you have an estimate (in vague terms, I don't think you can necessarily get an objective number but you can certainly do simple mathematical reasoning on vague variables) for Total History Facts. And then depending on the age of your students and pedagogical methods and probably other factors, you have a Maximum Facts Per Year. You can use these values to determine the level of detail that allows you to cover your desired subject matter within a school year. If this level of detail is unacceptably low, make the full history education take more years and solve for the detail level again.

And someone - teachers, standards writers, textbook writers, whoever - consistently sets the target detail level such that it's impossible for a given US history class to get past the civil war, or they realize they're going too slow and do a really slipshod tour of the events most pertinent to any understanding of the modern world after a really detail-heavy examination of the differences between the 13 colonies. World history is even worse, I don't even remember how far we got because everyone's brain was leaking out their ears by the end but we absolutely did not make it to the present day. World History was the only class where I failed the AP exam, because it's world fucking history dumbass, you can't teach all of it in a year!

And then, of course, when you get to your next history class they just start over from the beginning at a higher level of detail that also peters out around the Civil War, so you never actually learn anything about the 20th century.

So the options are

a) it's actually exactly like this everywhere. (plausible tbh. there is simply a lot of history.)

b) american students are uniquely lazy and stupid. (seems pretty unlikely, and also the failure is pretty consistent - you could argue that even if student ability is the limiting factor, if it happens this reliably it's educators' responsibility to just make the curriculum easier)

c) american educators are uniquely incompetent. (this is less of a judgement against teachers than it sounds like, it could be that they are ordered to do things in a way that sucks by higher ups and there is no mechanism to inform the decisionmakers that anything is wrong. I don't know if the education system is uniquely dysfunctional but it certainly is dysfunctional at all.)

d) some kind of fucking conspiracy or something. (This doesn't seem likely because who could possibly benefit from this particular problem that wouldn't benefit even more from schools dispensing explicit propaganda about events in the 20th century.)

This feels like a really obvious problem with a really obvious solution (more history classes, less total facts per class), everyone who has taken or taught a history class experiences this, and afaict this is not just a mistake that new history teachers make that they calibrate for after teaching for a while. This is EVERYONE'S experience of history classes in the US, it's kind of an open secret, and pretty much nobody ever fucking does anything about it or even mentions it as a thing it might be possible or desirable to do things about.

[dinomite2]

Oscar and Rose (Hot day 🔥)

For @sodapoppss

So I actually have this funny little headcanon that Inklings and Octolings cartoonistly melt in high heats and I decided so here's we go

*in SpongeBob narrator voice* Ahhhhh a beautiful day in the chaotic dry lands known as Splatsville where the land is full of inhabitants such The Inklings and Octolings live

And as usually as would Splatsville would it's normally hot but in this day it'd be the Hottest day yet....

(Video not mine)

Rose: Uuuggghhhh this heat Is unbearable Also where's Oscar? I haven't seen him all morning

Rose gets up from the couch searching around the house for Oscar's whereabouts that was until she went to the kitchen she heard a sound

Rose: Huh? *opens fridge door* Eh- WHAT THE FUCK OSCAR WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THERE

Oscar: Trying to cool off, now if you excuse me CLOSE THE DAMN FRIDGE

Rose pulls out Oscar out of the fridge

Oscar: woah! Oof!

Rose: Well get out of there, there's got to be another option to cool off around this place hmm oh I know i got and idea!

Oscar: this better not be one of those ideas where you do dumb stuff like attempting to cook rice in your stomach by drinking boiling water and swallowing raw rice

.

.

Rose: .... Ehhhhh ...... uhhh- Shut up! I'm not going to do anything dumb now follow me *Grabs Oscar's Hand and drags him*

Oscar: Woah-Woah-Woah-Whoa where are we Going!? I wanna stay in the fridge...

*A few minutes later* at the desert

Oscar: Rose *pant* mind explaining to Me *pant* why we're in THE F%C&IN@ DESERT

Rose: Look *pant* just trust me it's right over here!

They both walk up to see a old plane but with a operational propeller

Oscar: so you brought me here to see a plie of junk reaaaaal smart

Rose: No You Fucking Dumbass ... cause *walks up to propeller* This *spins propeller*

the propeller started to spin creating a gust of wind releaving the two Octolings for a .... that until the propeller broke off a flew far off in a distance

Oscar slowly turned to Rose with a disappointed face

Oscar: got any else smarter ideas...

Rose: Uhhhhhh-

At the Docks

Oscar: Rose this is the dumbest thing ever ... WHY

Rose: look ok I don't know why you keep on damn Fuc%/ng Doubting me! *accidentally pushes Oscar in the water*

Oscar: WOAH ep- ROS- HEL-ME-

Rose was too distracted by her rambling to even notice Oscar drowning and dissolving

Rose: LIKE SERIOUSLY I CANT SEE WHY YOUR DUMB FUC- Eh - oh......

All of Oscar's clothing was floating in the water

Oscar and Rose were both on the Couch Sweating Their butts off After the tons of attempts to not be under the intense heat and of course because of the heat

Rose: Hey Oscar..

Oscar: Yeah?

"Can I stay with you in the fridge?"

And done hope you enjoy!

[clare-with-no-i]

hi clare!!!! very random (I’m clearly having a wild NYE), but if you don’t mind, I’m super curious about your opinions re: sarah koenig and true crime journalists. I saw you posted about it a while back on clarewashere (I would have submitted this ask there but that blog didn’t have an ask option!). I have always hated true crime podcasts but I know you’re super educated on the criminal justice system and I would love to hear your perspective

totally feel free to ignore this :) cheers! hope you’re having a lovely NYE!!

hi beloved! thank you for the question! also yeah I have my asks off on that blog because one time someone sent me anon hate on there but didn't realize it was my main and that I'm, yknow, me, which was really hilarious lol. anyway.

soooo god I have myriad problems with the true crime genre. it pretty much does everything possible wrong when dealing with conversations around policing, criminalization, and incarceration, and yes I even mean the 'sensitive' true crime people and not just the YouTubers who do makeup while talking about, like, Ted Bundy or whatever it is they discuss.

true crime as a genre and phenomenon sensationalizes crime, creates an unrealistic culture of fear based on wildly standout incidents of violence, and reinforces false ideas that a) police in this country solve crimes, which they don't, FBI statistics on homicide clearance rate give a (very optimistic!) estimation that about 54% of homicides are being solved per annum; b) kidnapping, murder, other violent crimes are a significant portion of the prison population, which they absolutely are not; c) that white people are just as likely to experience violent crime as people of color, which they aren't at all. the airtime that these incredibly niche, outlying stories get overwhelms real conversations about the carceral state in America (prison gerrymandering! over-policing minority neighborhoods! stop and frisk! civil asset forfeiture!), and they also strengthen this insane mythos that there is a hard line between perpetrators of crime and victims of crime, which, no, there absolutely is not. an overwhelming majority of incarcerated persons have themselves been victims of some form of crime. crime is born from poverty, from underfunded school systems, from homelessness, from lack of healthcare, from feeding drugs into Black communities and then arresting drug users. it is a function of the structural racism and classism that permeate the American reality. it's not just joe criminal waking up one day and grabbing an axe. like yes of course that happens, and it is terrible when it does, but to only report on that/make it a feature of a media subculture is frightening.

and people might say, oh, well, what's the harm? it's just a youtube video!!! but the popularity of narratives like those spread by true crime pods/videos is, and let me make this clear, exactly what tough-on-crime lobbyists and legislators want. how do you think laws like "Three Strikes You're Out" get passed? the popular consciousness gets swept into a moral panic about violent crime and looks to expand the prison system as a means of harm reduction.

and to anticipate another counterpoint: when people are like, but it's spreading awareness!!! ok…awareness of…ongoing police investigations? great. and which investigations in particular? whose stories get told, and whose get ignored? I remember seeing some dumbass take that true crime pods 'spread awareness about domestic violence.' cool. and what structural solutions are we positing? what resources to possible victims are we providing? what funding toward shelters, toward civil legal funds, is being allotted from the earnings? yeah I thought so.

outside of its larger effects on its consumers' understanding of criminalization, true crime is so gross on a human level: these are real people's stories. these are real families of victims who have to watch their loved ones' deaths get discourse-ified and mangled on the internet like it's the latest episode of fucking Game of Thrones. Netflix and other streaming services have created scripted TV shows and films based on real human suffering without ever checking with the families or getting approval. and, honestly, even those scant YouTubers who get families' approvals, I still think it's sketchy as fuck. like, you're still profiting off of this, if not financially, then with it being your entire career just sitting in your house telling the stories of other people's trauma for clicks. yikes?

also, sooo many true crime fanatics are feral weirdos. sorry to say it. there is no goddamn reason why people should be dressing up like Gabby Petito or her murderer for Halloween. there is no reason rando white women should be making "if I go missing" folders with, like, locks of their hair and vials of their spit in them. there is no reason to create conspiracy theories around victims of domestic violence and act like they're actually manipulating the world and/or their abuser. there is no reason that lawyers on fucking TikTok should be making weeks-long series on a domestic abuse trial filled with meme audios and funky freeze-frames. it's weirdo behavior!! I'm not sure at what point we all got desensitized to the idea that people are entitled to privacy and respect when dealing with the objectively hardest times in their lives, but Jesus Christ !!!

to wrap up, my gripe with Sarah Koenig is that she's a hack lmao. Serial not only garbled most of its content wrt the Adnan Sayed trial, but it also stole from Rabia O'Chaudry's investigation of the trial, and left key significant pieces of his bungled defense out. and then SK claimed credit for getting him out of prison. blech. she's also the final boss of all true crime journos because true crime podcasting absolutely took off after Serial, much to my chagrin.

there we have it, this was a dissertation, sorry to anyone who actually reads this, it's such a rant lmao. thank you again for asking <3 as a known haver of opinions it's always a pleasure to be asked about said opinions

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→  Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank��that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off,  stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

[albatris]

cannae get an order of italian wedding an an order a tortellini thankya

no worries no worries, comin right up! thank you for your order <3

Italian Wedding Soup: Your favourite pairing among your characters

oh, not a pairing, but Tris/Shara/Kai is one of my favourite relationships! it took me a while to twig that polyam was the way to go for those three in ATDAO but once it clicked I was like ohhh that's perfect why did I not see this sooner :P

additionally, though Nat/Quinn is of course a big focus in Rental Car, personally right now I'm extremely fond of Nat/Zeke, a very fun wholesome chaotic dynamic, and of course the Alex/Quinn queerplatonic relationship, which is possibly my favourite favourite c:

Tortellini Soup: What is your worst plothole right now?

lmao I was telling Lilah about it today, the fact that I'm set on having the big reveal about Zeke's identity be the ending note of book one, meaning I'd ideally love to have Zeke introduced in person in the plot by at least the halfway point......... however, Yvonne is the initial link between Zeke and the rest of the gang, so I have to introduce Yvonne before I introduce Zeke, but the scene I'd initially planned to introduce Yvonne takes place AFTER the point I'd need to introduce Zeke so.... I ended up spiralling into a crisis and will likely end up needing to find a new way to introduce Yvonne a bit earlier so the timeline works hahaha

like, I can change the fact that Nat meets Zeke because Zeke is Yvonne's study buddy and have some other way to initially bring Zeke into things (not an option, I like Zeke having an already established relationship with Yvonne, however casual, and is a sturdy way to bring her into the plot), or I change the timing of when Zeke is introduced (not an option, it would mean pushing back the reveal about Zeke’s true identity and that's a killer end point), OR I change the timing of when YVONNE is introduced, meaning I change HOW Yvonne is introduced (not an ideal option and one I'm grumbling about, but I can make it work hahahahaha)

one problem with writing things out of order is sometimes bullshit like this just Happens and you feel no need to question it until you lay it all out and are like........................... wait

lots of Rental Car is meticulously carefully planned but I truly am a dumbass in general also

let's not forget this

granted, Rental Car is in early days, I’m allowed to do dumb shit like this lmao

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Inej Ghafa x fem! insecure! Reader - Arms Of A Saint

A/n: I know this came out of no where but... Here it is! I promise that dancing eyes part 2 is coming out soon I just had an idea and I couldn't get it off my mind. Plus! Cause I just watched Cruella recently I will be making a Kaz Brekker fic based off of that ish!

Warnings: Body dysphoria, the reader thinks she's ugly, blood, guns, mentions of wounds, YOUR ALL BEAUTIFUL REMEMBER THAT!!! I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You get the Wraith hurt, and your insecurities get the best of you

(image not mine)

You sighed and rested your forehead against the cool glass of the window. You considered bashing your head in too, maybe this feeling would go away then.

Tears started to build up in your e/c eyes and you couldn't stop them from falling down your face. Of course, you were crying - not being good enough fucking sucked.

Brushing your tears away angrily, you stomp over to your dresser. Why couldn't you just be good at your job? It would make everything so much easier if you could just be as good as the others. At least then you would be competent at something and your looks might not have mattered that much then.

You bring out a small bag and start shoving some clothes in the sac. More tears start to drip out of your eyes and you can't seem to stop them as you pack up everything (which is very little).

Stop being weak Y/n.

You hurry and run out the door with your bag in your hands. Your lucky it's a Sunday because most of the dregs would be out at the bar or on a job. You almost start running down the stairs but the window seems like the better option. And the Wraith wouldn't be out tonight.

That was completely your fault too.

Starting to climb out of the window and you land on the ground with a thump. You groan in pain, great you probably bruised your bone. Fucking fantastic.

You double-check you have everything and that your katanas are on your back. Tracking your path back towards the harbour where your boat would be there always waiting for you.

It always knew you were going to run back to it. You always did, in the end.

You were blind, naive even. You've always been running your entire life, running from your abusive parents. Running from sick men, running from your insecurities. You were good at it too, Inej may have been good a disappearing in plain sight but you could travel across the world and no one would be able to find you again even if they had the exact coordinates to where you were.

Inej, oh Inej.

Leaving your friends was going to be hard, but leaving Inej? You almost wept at the idea. She was your moonlight, yet she was your sunrise. Your moonrise, your little nickname for her.

She was always so amazing but you never envied her, no. You embraced her and all that she was, her bad parts and her good parts, Inej Ghafa was a saint if you ever saw one.

And the fact that you love her may also be another reason.

You run down the harbour trying to reach your boat before anyone would catch you. Although you did have a seeking suspicion that they would be secretly glad you left. No one screws up as many times as you do, and this was just the breaking point because you screwed up big time.

You had nearly gotten the Wraith killed.

You were with the Crows on a simple job, get inside the house that had ten security guards and kill the sleeping man and get out. Simple. Really you wondered why Kaz even needed the crows for this one.

Then how did it go so wrong?

You were all running, they knew you were going to be there but they didn't even double their guards. No, they thought someone was going to be there, singular. Nevertheless, they still knew. So you kill the sleeping man, you all are running but as it turns out what they told you was true. As soon as you would kill that dense man they would (try) and kill the Wraith.

They almost did.

Two bullets landed in her chest, it's a miracle she survived really. Plus that was three days ago and no one would talk to you, you had realized then that you had to leave. What were you worth if they couldn't trust you? You remembered the harsh words they had said, and you don't blame them Inej is their best friend. That didn't mean it hurt any less.

"What will happen the next time? And the time after that? You are suspended for a few weeks, we just can't trust you to do the rational thing as of right now."

Ouch.

"Y/n?"

You whip your head around and you go to reach for the katanas on your back but then your eyes land on Inej.

Your hands fall from your back and you can't meet her eyes. How could you? Not while you were going to leave to the only person who could even come close to a living saint. Fuck Alina Starkov no one could ever beat Inej Ghafa. But that's not why you love Inej Ghafa and there would never be one reason, but hundreds that you could list off for all of eternity if you wanted to.

Unfortunately, you didn't have that type of time, did you?

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes finally meet her and your breath catches inside your throat. The moonlight shines on her skin making her look like she's glowing and it accentuates her eyes making them look like they're dancing moons.

Like you yell to the world every night, a living saint.

Quickly you look down again not wanting to have to see her face when you break it to her.

"Leaving." It's one word with two syllables but it still makes tears come to your eyes. Or maybe it's just the person you telling it to. But you force the tears down but you don't even bother with the neutral 'I don't care' face. Your not Kaz Brekker and Inej would see right through that. Maybe that's why you always liked her, she could understand you.

To a point obviously.

"That's all? You're leaving and that's all your going to say to me! Leaving!"

You throw your hands up in the air. "Well, I can't stay here! Not in Ketterdam! I almost got you killed. You don't come back from that! I just can't bear the thought that-" You cut yourself off not being physically able to finish the sentence. How could you not though? You had to make her understand why.

"That maybe next time you would be gone, and it would be because of me."

Shock adorns her face. "You see why now? I can't stay! Everyone is already mad at me as it is! I just am tired of not being enough and getting people killed."

You take a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. "And I would be damned if you got caught up in my web of screw-ups, you don't need that." You shake your head to put emphasis on your words. "It would only get you killed and the world needs Inej Ghafa."

"By the saints Y/n! What the fuck are you talking about!"

Jumping startled at her outburst you realize then she might not just let you go like you were hoping for.

Well... Shit.

Honestly, this was not part of the plan.

"Of course you're enough for our little group of friends! Your a valuable team member who can slice people in half, and no one has the same knowledge of ancient to new languages as you! You blend in so well in a crowd it's scary! But we don't just keep you around because your good for jobs you brighten everyone's day by taking time for all of us, we need you!" Inej sighs and takes a step forward. She takes her hands into mine.

"I need you."

You breathe out a stuttering breath as she says the words. I need you. Although the words brought fields of hope into your heart, the doubt was still in the back of your mind, why would she need you? And for sure the Crows didn't want or definitely need you! But Inej wouldn't lie!

"I think-" You take in a breath and look straight into her eyes. Her eyes are the night sky. They're brown almost black but they have flickers of light like the stars in the Zemni farms. It hits you with full force and you nearly stumble over. You force yourself to look and pull away from her arms and those beautiful eyes.

"I don't think you get it Inej."

"Then explain it to me."

You close your eyes. How could you explain it to her? That every moment you look in the mirror and you feel disgusted with yourself. That you feel like your skills could never match with the ones of your friends?

"I'm just not enough, okay! I look at myself and I see these tiny flaws and they slowly just get bigger, and bigger. And every time I attempt to make them go away it just gets worse!"

You let out a choked-on-sob laugh. "And then my useless skills! Don't even get me started on that! Maybe looks don't matter that much, and I can suffice without looking even a bit fucking pretty but my 'talents' made up for that! But I look around at everyone else and I just can't seem to see why anyone ever keeps me around!"

Tears finally fall from your eyes as you sob and your knees wobble and they go to give out, but Inej catches you.

"I wouldn't lie Y/n, you are my everything."

The words were simple, yet they held so much weight of what they actually meant.

"You will always be enough for me."

And the Saint takes you into her arms.

Words 1605

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien

(I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone!)

[peebleswrites]

Can I pleaseeee request something with Ulquiorra!? It's difficult to see him being sweet or romantic but I'm ready for whatever he can give 🤣

GASP. YAY. FIRST REQUEST. THANK YOU. Gotta say, this was a challenge! But it was always really fun and I enjoyed writing this piece. I hope you like it!

ULQUIORRA X FEMALE!READER

About three months had gone by since the Arrancars mysteriously appeared in the world of the living, sans the previously deep seeded hatred of humans and Shinigami. In short, they had no evil intentions whatsoever and seemed curious, some more than others, over the lifestyle of humans.

Everyone was of course wary, worried they’d fly off the handle and a war would once again loom on the horizon in the minds of both the soul society and the world of the living. Until Y/N was the first to offer an extension of goodwill to the once evildoers, thus triggering a snowball affect of successful communication between the three parties.

And so, the former Espada remained in the world of the living, assimilating into the culture and assuming somewhat normal lives!

“Say Y/N,” Orihime began one afternoon during lunch upon the roof. All eyes trained to the busty bubble of joy as she posed a question in Y/N’s direction.

“What’s your type? I mean, what sort of guy are you interested in?” Pretty much everyone was equally surprised as they were curious which included a certain arrancar who’d normally find such drabble ridiculous and an utter waste of time. 

Since his arrival, or rather, since those of his kind had been accepted in this world, Ulquiorra had taken something of an interest in Y/N. She was the first to accept him, all of them, and he’d always been curious concerning her reasoning. Surely, she intended to gain something by having them as allies, right? Y/N was just a human. It would make sense for her to align herself with the strong.

Yet…she didn’t appear to him as the type to use people for her own advantage. This only made her all the more interesting. As such, he used any and all opportunities afforded to him. All in efforts to garner what her true intentions were.

This was one of those opportunities.

“My type? Mmm…I guess someone who’s smart.” Y/N started before considering the rest of her response.

“Heh, that excludes you, Shinigami.” Grimmjow was first to comment, roughly punching Ichigo in the shoulder with that snarl of a grin covering his feral features. The jab nor the remark was taken well by the aforementioned male who soon retaliated with an equal amount of force.

“What the hell?! That means you too, dumbass!” And of course, that triggered the beginning of their usual bout which everyone had gotten so used to, it was pretty much ignored.

“I do like the strong, silent type, too. Oh! And a bit of spontaneity! You know, keeps things interesting!” While everyone seemed to agree, secretly they began to wonder just who among them she might be interested in. Meanwhile Ulquiorra was on an entirely different wavelength.

If Y/N found these qualities to be appealing, perhaps he could gain her trust by assuming these roles and therefore fulfill this self-appointed purpose of discovering her true intentions, thus deciding for himself if she were truly someone worthy of his trust.

No, it didn’t sound at all crazy in his head.

He has the smart part down and feels sufficiently confident in his intellect. Nothing to worry about there. The same can be said of his strength and more so of his silence. He is neither loud, nor boisterous. And while he wouldn’t call himself antisocial, he is prone to speak when he feels it is necessary to speak. Silence with a purpose.

That leaves the spontaneity.

In order to tackle this trait efficiently, he took to the human world dictionary!

“Performed or occurring as a result of a sudden inner impulse or inclination and without premeditation or external stimulus…” This may be something of a challenge for him. He never acts without thinking, without purpose. In fact, he is hard pressed to believe he could start. But not entirely convinced…yes, he could do this.

He would start by following Y/N. Not in the creepy stalker sense but more along the lines of trying to get to know her likes without actually asking himself. He would use the ever talkative Orihime to do his bidding.

“What sort of candy do you like, Y/N? I like something sweet and tangy but also sour and a little bitter with a fluffy kind of texture!” Dear gods, what could she possibly be describing was the expression that Ulquiorra currently wore while listening to the conversation. Y/N assumed a rather uneasy expression before responding accordingly.

“I like F/C. Not really a fan of much else.” Y/N’s response was simple something Ulquiorra could appreciate and perhaps do something with.

“So that’s what she likes…”

The next day, all eyes were on the former fourth espada when he strolled into class, dragging a large sack behind him which he dumped onto Y/N’s desk without a word. She stared at him then the sack partially obscuring her vision before opening her mouth to respond

“Uh…Ulquiorra? What’s this?”

“Don't ask useless questions.” And that was all he said before casually walking to his chair like he didn’t rouse the entire class with a cloud of confusion. With furrowed brows, Y/N peeked into the sack, only to spot copious amount of her favorite candy! It looked like a whole year’s supply of it! What the heck…

Who could’ve known that he’d been listening in on her conversation with Orihime? Or that he’d continue to do such in order to exercise this growing need to display his spontaneity. Which, he realized at one point, wasn’t really spontaneous at all because he was thinking about these acts way too hard!

Like when she expressed a desire to have more rice in her lunch, so he proceeded to give her extra portions the next day. Or when she grew tired during gym and he suddenly picked her up over his shoulder to run the rest of her laps. Or when she complained over the lack of sleep she was getting due to the neighbor’s dog barking all night so he insisted on training the canine not to be noisy.

Okay so…maybe he was being spontaneous, but Y/N had grown suspicious enough and needed some answers.

“Ah…Ulquiorra? Could I talk to you for a moment?” Y/N approached him after class one day, appearing somewhat nervous. He agreed with a simple nod while teeming on the inside with anticipation. This could quite possibly be the moment he has been working for so diligently. His efforts were at last being acknowledged.

“Uh so…listen, it’s about uhm…how you’ve been acting recently…” If it wasn’t obviously, Y/N was having a hard time expressing what she really wanted to say. Ulquiorra, of course, noticed this.

“Speak, woman.” A curt response that Y/N honestly should’ve expected prompted nothing more than a sigh.

“What’s your problem?!” Which triggered an explosive response that Ulquiorra honestly didn’t see coming if the sight of his eyes widening were any indication.

“Elaborate.” Eyes that soon softened to their normal size while gleaming with hints of mild apprehension for he never expected her of all people to express feelings of displeasure with him.

“You keep doing these weird things! First it was the candy! Then all the rice! Then you carried me around the track even when I told you to put me down! Now my neighbor is telling me you trained their dog! Are you making fun of me? Is this some arrancar way of bullying?!”

“You believe I am bullying you?”

“Yes!”

She was yelling at him. And calling him a bully, of all things. How could his intentions have been so horribly misinterpreted? How could she misunderstand him to such a degree? Could he have been wrong? Were his methods misguided or incorrect? It would seem he would need to evaluate his form of spontaneity and employ a different tactic.

“I see. I will try something else, then.” Yes, he would go back to the drawing board, reconsider his options, his resources, and try other ways of being spontaneous.

“Wait!” Y/N name suddenly grabbed onto his arm. His eyes instantly fell to her hands. Her touch triggered a slither of a response, a tingling sensation that was unfamiliar. When’s the last time anyone had laid non-threatening hands on him, he wondered.

“What?” Visibly she flinched back but maintained her countenance alongside the ever-present confusion.

“What are you trying to do? What’s all this about? I want to know!” This expression. The raw emotion on her face. He remembered it well. It was this stubborn, foolish disposition she maintained that played a key role in the Shinigami taking their presence as a non-threat. It was this expression that led him to find a purpose through her.

It was this very same gleam that triggered perhaps the most spontaneous act he’d committed thus far, the cupping of his hand upon her cheek. He wouldn’t be able to explain what caused him to do it or why his hand stayed. He just knew her cheek felt soft and warm and he sort liked the way her expression shifted as his hand remained.

“Your ‘type,’ as you humans refer to it, is someone who is spontaneous, is it not?” He brandished his usual emotionless façade, awaiting a response from her aside from the stunned silence she seemed to be trapped in.

“I…you…ah…you want to be my type…?” Dumbfounded. She was utterly dumbfounded. And he couldn’t understand why she was behaving so shocked. Wasn’t he being obvious?

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I see now that my actions are ineffective.” How ridiculous. For him to fail at such a task was unprecedented. He could hardly fathom such a thing. As such, he needed to take time away, regroup, and think of different ways to convey this message to her.

“If you’ll excuse me.” His hand fell away from her cheek only to be grabbed by one of hers. A second extension of contact and a second shock that shot up his senses. He eyed her once again with his empty stare, but she didn’t appear at all perturbed by it. In fact, she offered a rather hopeless smile.

“I…I think it’s working. I mean, you’ve got my attention.” Once again, she stunned him. This time, not with her gleaming determination but with a meek smile and subtle, gentle, squeezing of his hand. He couldn’t have imagined such a small gesture could be so impactful. How strange…

“Oh? I will continue, then.”

“Wait, no—.”

It would seem he was at least on the right track to deciphering her true intentions while simultaneously gaining her trust. Surely, he’d get it this spontaneous act right eventually.

A/N: Poor Ulquiorra. He means well. Again, hope you enjoy! Also this is my first time doing this so I hope the format isn't weird? Thanks!