#outercorner

Geralt & Jaskier:

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter - Okay, hear me out: Geralt is the werewolf. He’s not supposed to be, but he got cursed or bit or something and he’s stuck in wolf form or whatever. Jaskier is a hunter but maybe not full time? I’m trying to picture him as mostly still just Jaskier but maybe he exagerrated his credentials to the cute barmaid or whatever? Anyway this alleged “hunter” runs across a wounded white wolf in the woods and just completely fails to notice there’s anything magical or cursed about him at all. Geralt keeps following him around because surely a hunter would know how to break this curse, right? RIGHT? Meanwhile Jasier has named him Daffodil or something and buys him a collar.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman - Jaskier is absolutely the mermaid. Maybe an Ariel kind of situation where he had a beautiful voice but it was stolen from him? Maybe he met Geralt and fell for him hard but when he realized Geralt wasn’t a full time fisherman and would be going back on the road soon Jaskier trades his voice for the ability to shapeshift to human and follow Geralt.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar - Jaskier as the outgoing familiar to the secretive and mysterious witch Geralt. It’s basically canon! Everyone’s intimidated by Geralt so they basically leave him alone, but he’s actually kind of a chill dude who just wants to make a living and maybe not have his hut set on fire anytime soon.

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict - Jaskier the coffee addict! Geralt is working as a barista for.... reasons? Maybe he’s helping out a friend, or he opened the coffeeshop because he wanted something relaxing after he got out of the military, anyway, Jaskier ends up coming in like three times a day and Geralt starts to worry he’s going to be held accountable for this guy’s sudden and inevitable heart attack from caffeine overdose. But Jaskier mostly just has the hots for the stud working the espresso machine and is blowing a chunk of his paycheck on lattes for the excuse to see him.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA - PROFESSOR JASKIER AND TA GERALT. Jaskier is like, a music professor? Some famous composer with tenure that the university coddles because he brings in students and shit. Geralt is assigned to be his TA largely due to a mistake in the admissions office where his major got input incorrectly and now he’s stuck grading papers on a subject he doesn’t understand and could not give less of a shit about. Meanwhile Jaskier is determined to nurture Geralt’s inner musician which is going to end badly for both of them. 

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss) - Okay, I’m playing this one straight because I really do like heroic Geralt riding to Jaskier’s rescue. Jaskier would be the princess, but he’d be a feral-ass princess who causes so much trouble the bad guys who tried to abduct him end up begging Geralt to take him back.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent - Geralt is the single parent to newly orphaned Ciri, and Jaskier is the tutor Geralt hires because he’s familiar with music and history from Ciri’s homeland. 

(artist comments under Keep Reading)

Title: Accepting Help (is hard)

Author: AngeNoir

Rating: Mature 

Tags: Scion Shimada Hanzo, Demons, Powers, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Mediums, Human Trafficking 

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~22k

Summary: Jesse McCree had only just rejoined Overwatch when a strange communication came from Japan. An old agreement, one between the Shimada clan and Blackwatch, is suddenly called upon, and after some deliberation, Winston, Angela, and Jesse agree that Jesse will check it out - where Jesse finds himself thrust into the middle of a power struggle in the Shimada clan. He knows he's just supposed to be looking for the human traffickers, but he can't just sit by idly while people try to kill the brother of his old friend. 

 And if the brother's hot, well. That didn't really factor into it.

(That much.)

Story link

Tony/Thor “Your hugs are the best”

Tony startles and tips his head back to look up at Thor. “What?”

Thor smiles at him and gives him a little squeeze that momentarily takes his breath away. “You give excellent hugs.”

Tony blinks. “I—thanks? That's—nobody's ever. Really?”

“Aye,” Thor replies and dips his head so his chin hooks over Tony's shoulder and he squeezes again, a slow, gentle compression that makes the tension melt from Tony's body. “You give your all to them.”

Tony feels himself blush and he tucks his face into Thor's hair. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “That's—I'm glad it works for you. But you're the one who gives amazing hugs.”

Thor laughs, and it rumbles through Tony.

“If we both enjoy it so, it is something we should do more often.”

This is probably cheating since I’m already writing a steampunk!AU for The Losers and giving you headcanons from that seems a little lazy, but I’m going to do that anyway. Partly because I’m not sure if you mean “The Hobbit” as in “the dwarves” or “Barduil,” because I have no experience whatsoever with the former and would probably fuck it up completely. SO YEAH. Here are some headcanons for the steampunk AU I’m writing. It’s mostly world building, really, because that’s the only way I could keep it spoiler free.

The story takes place in Nova Auroris — a huge behemoth of a city that is the capital of the Empire. And no, it’s not the British Empire, and this is not Victorian steampunk. It’s roughly the same time period, yes, but the world looks different. The Empire is, in fact, Spanish — or this world’s equivalent of Spain and similar regions around the Mediterranean. Think Barcelona, Madrid, Sicily, Crete, and, to some degree, Rome and Venice. The city is divided into three districts: Netherstead (the slums), Copperborough (middle class), and Ivoryhold (the filthy rich). Out of the three, Netherstead is by far the biggest, and it’s there you have all the factories, the Coaldocks, and everything else the rich find undesirable. It is, quite frankly, a terrible place to live.

The Empire is ruled by a king and said king is growing less and less popular. Taxes are high, the people are sick and starving, wars are constantly being fought in attempts to expand the empire and increase its riches (well, for the rich, at least), and the poor just can’t stand it anymore. But it’s difficult to fight back. Above the city float six fortresses — known as the Star Citadels — which houses the Empire’s Royal Air Navy, and while they are supposedly for the city’s protection, the Citadels are also used to keep the citizens in line.

At the age of sixteen, every boy not rich enough to pay to be excluded (meaning everyone except those in Ivoryhold) is forced to enlist and join the Royal Air Navy. Despite the fact that they’re not much more than cannon fodder for the king’s war, most stay even after their three mandatory years are up, since they’re given food and housing at the barracks. It’s better than starving on the streets or moving back to their families who are, in all probability, even worse off. This means that most families have a son, brother, or father in the Navy, and they can’t risk drawing attention to themselves, knowing that their son/brother/father will be punished for it. The soldiers are kept obedient in much the same way, since anyone who speaks up against the crown gets a visit from the Death Specters. Those are the military trained assassin’s and sharpshooters employed by the Royal Air Navy. Everyone — even most officers within the Navy — fear them.

Slave labour is, unfortunately, also incredibly common in this world. The Empire has several provinces and colonies from which they occasionally take slaves, but a lot of them are also from Nova Auroris — Netherstead, more specifically, since some families sell their relatives into slavery as a last resort. Slaves are equipped with a metal mask that covers their face and nose, which prevents them from talking, eating, or drinking. The keys are held by the so called Slave Handlers who, twice a day, removes the mask to allow the salve to eat, shave etc. No speaking is allowed then either, and slaves will be severely punished if they try. This means that the slaves are dependent on their Handlers since they will undoubtedly starve without them. Running away isn’t an option, in other words. And, if a slave tries to remove the mask, it will slam shut like a beartrap and crush their face. This can also happen by accident, if the mask is jostled while the slave is working or sleeping, but the Handlers considers it worth the risk. They can always get more slaves. If the slave has any specific duties — cooking, machine maintenance, machine building — symbols are tattooed onto the back of their hands to indicate which one, since they’re not able to state it out loud.

There is, of course, a resistance, however. It consists of people from Nova Auroris and the surrounding provinces who are desperately trying to overthrow the king and reclaim their city. They’re men and women who have simply had enough (Aisha, Clay, Roque), people who have nothing left to lose (Cougar), and people who just want a better future for their children (Pooch). For over eighteen years they’ve been gathering members, resources, and information to help them battle the Empire, and they are finally ready to start fighting back for real.

It's totally fine to combine your days into chapters of a larger story—plenty of people have done that before in the past so you would be far from the first. And there's no minimum or maximum word count you need to worry about—some people write drabbles, some people write multichapter longfic that's 20k or longer. You don't have to write fic to participate either—as the JayTim Week FAQ says, "All kinds of fanworks are acceptable! Fanfic, fanart, graphics, videos… The sky is the limit."

I have something for that! This is from my 5+1 Steterek WIP that will be posted starting next week.

Here we have gentle

Stiles tried to be as gentleas he could, but he had to cover all the burns, had to touch all the placesthat were clearly hurting Peter, and he hated himself just a little bit forcausing Peter more pain.

and here we have kind