#having a new story i know nothing about is helping me calm my brain down a bit from all the anxiety thats been setting in lately

[fnafawoundleftbleedingau]

Also following the post I reblogged earlier today about the AI thing scraping Ao3 fics. I've locked my fics down for registered Ao3 members only for a while. With any luck it will be a temporary change.

On a side note unrelated to my FNaF stuff. Im not very far into the game yet. But I've started playing Grim Fandango for the first time today. I'm really curious to see how the story plays out. And I absolutely adore the shape-y... ness, of the character designs! Just like I did with Psychonauts! The people at Double-Fine know how to make great shapey characters. I gotta study up on the art in those games more for when I get back to doing designs for the Through the Static AU

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[pinkchrissysposts]

°•*TIPS AND ADVICE FOR LOA AND VOID*•°

Guys i have come to decide that my time have come to an end in this amazing app tumblr I feel honoured to be a part of this beautiful community but before I go I would like to give some tips to everyone who.are still in their void/manifestation/shifting journey.

So as we know this is your journey to seize your power no one is gonna be there to help you except yourself. If you have been in this journey for a long time the only thing you are lacking is trust with yourself. Start building trust with yourself,it will become easier to persist. Consistency and persistence is needed of course but also trust within yourself.

I was also someone who struggled alot as a beginner for years but I slowly learned different things that are key to manifest/enter void/shift. Now don't ask what is the key because it has been mentioned in almost every loa post you read.

Follow your own style of manifesting,if you feel frustrated over methods then choose one which resonates with you,what matters is you feeling satisfied at the end.

Now this is for my a+ p girlies, I know I said it multiple times but don't affirm to get in 3D,affirm to make it your dominant thought,your goal should be making the affirmation your dominant thought that's it. It becomes thousand times easier because you also start to detach from the old story,your attention will be more on believing in that affirmation rather then seeing it in the 3D. Like this😤🤌

When we hear about horror stories,we don't see the ghost but we still believe it exist right? We start reaffirming unconscious like there is ghost in the kitchen stuff like that. (That was one shitty example ☠️💀)

I get a LOTS of ask about robotic affirming and saturation,guys it's simple they both quite similar. Well in robotic affirming you just have to chant it without really focusing on it as it saturate you and it's mostly helps with mental diet.

But during saturation try to be more focus on the affirmation,it like focus affirming.

Moving on to void,I will really recommend using the distraction method or zone out method they both are same nothing different. Also just read the masterlist from my old account @graychrissy it had mostly void post with my documented void journey. Also read rotten's shifting guide then use the gateway tape it is available in spotify too,it can be instant to reach the focus 10,but some may need practice but it's easy nothing overcomplicated just a hemi sync (Turing off left side of the brain).

Top method I recommend is affirming,SATS,FOCUS 10,DISTRACTION METHOD, LUCID DREAMING and THE BASIC WAY

NEVER BE AFRAID OF YOUR EMOTIONS,seriously it's something everyone dm me about it's really not important,your emotions are also 3D,it won't mess up your manifestation so just calm down.

Also since the link in master list aren't working I will make a new one,I will be changing the whole lay out of my blog then you guys can use it. Goodbye~~~~~~~;)

[satorubrain]

Hiiiii hope you are doing good(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

This is my first time requesting, so i am sorry if I made a mistake jshdjdj

I wanted to request gojo's reaction(?) to a s/o that bites him out of nowhere 😭. Like nothing serious, its just a silly thing they do where they will randomly grab his hand and just *big chomp*

Thank you, have a nice day<333

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: FLUFF. FLUFF. FLUFF. SILLY. Crack. Both are teacher sorcerers working at tokyo jujutsu high

Synopsis: As your relationship progresses and the more you open yourself to him, the more he is able to discover your silly little habits. He can't help but fall in love with you more.

A/N: BITING IS THE GREATEST LOVE LANGUAGE. ITS PEAK ROMANCE!!!!!!! I hope you don't mind me adding a few more elements to the story! Also anon don't worry you made no mistakes while requesting 💕💕

It had been two months since you started dating and Satoru couldn't help but fall for you harder and deeper. How can he not, especially when you were so cute. Whenever he thought he couldn't find something new about you, especially after knowing you for years, you somehow managed to surprise him with your quirks.

You had been staring at him, or rather his cheeks for a solid minute now, thinking intensely about something with your eyebrows furrowed. It was getting harder to resist. You've controlled yourself for years and now that he's your boyfriend, your brain forgot about it.

"Babe, you've been drilling a hole in my face, did something happen?" Satoru inquires.

"Your cheeks are so bitable Satoru." You answer. Before Satoru could respond he felt a soft chomp on his cheeks. It won't leave a mark but it was cute. He's sure his heart is going to jump out of his throat, you're way too adorable.

"soff" you mumble nomming on his cheek a bit before releasing it quickly after a few seconds and wiping it down giggling "well that was pretty satisf-"

He couldn't help but pull you into a deep kiss there and then, pulling you onto his lap, uncaring of anyone who might walk into the empty classroom. He soon breaks the kiss, cupping your cheeks.

"god y/n, you're driving me insane here" he whispers breathlessly, his mind numb and cheeks flushed red by your actions.

As time passes and your relationship finally gets public, your pda also increases.

He loves how you would greet him by running up to him, standing on your tippy toes, raising your arms to cup his cheeks and squishing them before pulling him down to give him a quick peck on his nose "G'morning cutie!!" you'd squeel and run away before he could react in return.

His heart flutters when he sees you open the door to the empty classroom he's sitting in, tapping every inch of his face for no reason before giving a peck on his nose, causing both of you to giggle.

He's calm and peaceful, his heart full of love when you hold him in your embrace, gently swaying you both, softly humming to a tone on the cold and dark nights when Satoru finds it hard to even breathe. But your warmth blows air into his lungs and your sweet sound calms down his senses. At this moment, for him, only the two of you exist.

"What are you doing, my sweet kirby?" Satoru asks with a stupid grin on his face as he lovingly looks at you who is making circles with your index fingers in front of him

"hmmm.... hypnotizing you" you chuckle, your eyes crinkling as you think of a reason for your actions "perhaps to make my fiancé fall for me even harder?"

"is that so? Well then I think it's working very well" he giggles as he pulls you closer to him by your hands, making them wrap around his neck as his cling around your waist.

The lovestruck man named Gojo Satoru didn't lie, since he did fell deeper in the bottomless abyss of your love every passing second.

ANONNNNN I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS ILY FOR REQUESTING THIS <3

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Mind Games

New story who diiisss. Anyway, thank you to @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 for the whole idea of this story! Hero x detective for a twist.

TW: Blood, stabbing, knife, mentioned murder, kidnapping, restraints, blindfold, mentioned drugging, male whump

Waking up blindfolded and bound to a chair wasn't exactly a novelty for the hero, but that didn't make it any less irritating. There was something about the forced ignorance a blindfold subjected you to that got on the hero's nerves and blew fuses in his brain.

The patter of footsteps on a parquet floor rang in the hero's ears, and he could already sense his mystery assailant get near him and flick him on the head like a disobedient child.

"You up, sunshine?" Detective's sharp voice called out.

The rough grunt he gave seemed to be enough of a response, and the detective removed the blindfold from around his head.

The light seemed to assault his eyes, too bright and cold and violent, and the hero let out a soft cuss. "Do you make a habit out of kidnapping people and tying them up in your basement, detective?" he questioned irritably, his eyes half-screwed shut.

The detective, immaculate as ever, wearing a goddamn three-piece suit in his own house, gave out a soft, but unsettling laugh, leaving his lips in a tight smile that was all teeth. "No, Hero. But you already know why you're here, don't you? Because I know you think playing dumb might save you, but I'm here to tell you it won't," he growled, baring his teeth.

The detective was never a particularly pleasant human being, dryer than a desert more often than not, but he was always calm, like no problem in the world could even sour his mood. So to see him already lash out, even this slightly told the hero that even with him tied up and possibly drugged with how groggy he was feeling, the detective probably saw him as a threat.

Shame he'd have to play another set of cards to win the game.

"Alright," the hero said calmly, fixing the other man with a piercing look, "if we're agreeing neither of us is here to screw around, then how about you cut to the chase. You don't seem like the 'pace and around the room and monologue' type of guy," he reasoned, an easy smile on his face.

Maybe he wasn't feigning oblivion anymore, but he wasn't giving the detective the satisfaction of feeling like he was scaring him.

The detective made a scoffing noise, reaching into his pocket to pull out a switchblade. "Maybe you'll learn to smile less at the wrong times, asshole," he spat as he unfurled the blade, looking eerily calm, nothing behind the whirpools of black that were his eyes.

"You're going to talk. Answer all my questions properly. And if you don't, I think even you are not dumb enough to not be able to guess what's going to happen."

The knife really didn't faze the hero the way it should. Sure, it left him uneasy, sharp and disturbingly pristine. But he'd been roughed up before one too many times, so he knew to some extent how this stuff worked.

The hardest part was selling his act.

"How did you find out it was me?" the detective started, pulling up another chair and carelessly throwing one leg over the other.

"I'm good at what I do," the hero shrugged, his face blank. But he couldn't help wincing as the detective grazed his thigh with the knife, his body already tormented enough with his ridiculously cramped muscles.

Nothing he couldn't handle, anyway.

"The evidence. What lead you to me?" Detective tried again, the blade still in his hand with Hero's fresh blood snaking down it.

"Does it matter? I figured you out anyways," the hero supplied listlessly, his gaze languid and half-lidded.

The detective stabbed harder this time, twisting the knife in the hero's shoulder and forcing a snarl out of him. He truly wasn't sure for how long he could keep playing the defiant card, the pain blooming across his shoulder and even down to his arm as the detective snatched the knife out just as fast as he'd put it in.

If he could incinerate the detective by staring at him wrong, he seriously would've. Instead he grit his teeth and tried to ignore his throbbing shoulder, looking up at the detective, irritated.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slit your throat right now." The detective's voice seemed a little too relaxed for comfort, the dirty switchblade now resting on the hero's jugular. The hero was no longer even slightly surprised the other man was a criminal.

It took an insurmountable amount of self-restraint to keep his lips from curving into a self-satisfied grin. Sure, it wasn't very believable if an agency-trained hero crumbled under a few stabs, but death was a reasonable enough fear for even someone as formidable as him. Nevermind that the wide eyes and the harsh bite of the lips were actually fake.

"W-wait. There's no point of you killing me. Not without finding out what you need to know. And do you really need anymore blood on your hands?" the hero breathed out, a little desperation sprinkled into his tone.

The detective looked almost lost in thought, until something wicked burned a fire in his eyes for just a moment. "You only get one chance, Hero. Don't waste it," he drawled lazily, pulling the knife away and twirling it elegantly with one hand.

The hero nodded gratefully, readying himself to lie through his teeth. "When you said the victim had died of asphyxiation, even before you were granted access to the autopsy report."

The detective's brow furrowed and his lips were pulled into a tight frown. "I never said he died of asphyxiation, he died of mercury poisoning."

"Bingo," the hero, his hands now free of their bonds, crooned, as he used the detective's momentary surprise as a distraction, pulling the knife out of his hand and using it to cut through the ropes around his legs.

Say something wrong about a subject and your target will rush to correct you. A surprisingly effective trick as the hero had come to learn.

The detective's face twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled fury as he tried to wrench the knife out of the hero's hand, but he dodged, quick on his feet much to the other man's chagrin.

Hero had to give him credit, the man was almost nearly impossible to stab, parrying the crime-fighter's attacks with calm, stable, maybe even clever moves, so much so that all he'd managed to do was lightly nick him with the blade.

But with all his focus on blocking, he hadn't even noticed that all the hero's fighting had backed him into a corner until too late, until thr crime-stopper's leg had slammed him into the wall with a painful kick, and the knife's cold edge had bit into his skin.

"Don't. Move."

The detective was breathing hard, practically paralysed by the knife and the glint of warning in his enemy's eyes. His face burned with the shame and humiliation of being frozen in place, his own weapon at his neck.

"How d-did. . .you find out it was me?" the detective panted, voice desperate.

It was the hero's turn to smile wickedly. "On the day of the victim's death, he got a visit from his doctor. I searched the trash and found a broken thermometer. It was pretty clear from the bruising on the poor bastard's face the killer was left-handed. The doctor you paid off that I interviewed was right-handed. To test out my theory, I told the doctor I was taking him to prison for the murder, and his tongue might've just slipped too much for your hush money to fix it."

And with that, the hero knocked him out with a punch to the jaw, dragging the other's body and praying desperately the adrenaline would keep the pain in his shoulder at bay until he got out of here at least.

Some trails are shadowy and unclear, obscuring the vision and playing tricks on the mind. But the smallest amount of resilience can very well go a long way, if only you learn to time your moves right. Because even if you only get a short string, you can still sew a mark on the tapestry of your fate.

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-24 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-is-the-reputation4444 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[stealthetrees]

I would first like to apologize for the short chapter 3 for my fic Incident Reports from the Coruscant Guard. I keep having ideas for much later chapters and feel the need to write them. Also I don’t know how to write action. Pester me about it and I will feel guilty for not writing and may finish it sooner.

Anyway here’s the chapter when the Corries got Fives. For context, just after the Guard faked Ashokas death (bc she was a wanted criminal anyway and now they can use her to con people) Fox decided to try and break into the evil looking building they sometimes see Palpatine go to bc he’s convinced it’s an evil fortress that could have valuable information about the war. He got electrocuted and yeeted out a 5 story window.

He squinted at the clone in the bed next to him. “Do I know you?”

He flinched at Fox’s raspy voice, and his hands fluttered nervously around the blankets as he avoided eye contact. “Uh, no I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You don’t look like one of mine,” said Fox, wondering what he could have missed while he was out. He tried to sit up but was met with sharp pain in his chest. The hiss of pain summoned a vindictive medic like magic.

“Electrocution and nearly broken ribs. As a medical professional I’d recommend not trying to break into an evil sith fortress again,” said Cherry smugly. Fox had always suspected his medics secretly fought over who got to deliver news like that to him.

Giving up, he flopped back down. “Did I miss anything big?”

“Some ARC figured out The Conspiracy but fumbled it so bad the long necks told the Jedi his ‘aggression inhibitor chip’ broke and they believed it,” Cherry rolled his eyes and used air quotes. “Dogma’s pretty psyched cause they knew each other before acquisitions, oh! And this is Tup, fresh out of a lab. Also one of Rex’s Idiots.”

Tup waved nervously. Fox tried to give an encouraging smile. “We’re glad to have you, Tup.”

The words only seemed to make him feel guilty, as he turned away again.

“His inhibitor chip went off and he killed a Jedi during a battle. It’s been removed and we did some brain scans just in case. No further anomalies have been found, but we’re keeping him for observation just in case. For your mental state if nothing else,” Cherry directed the last part at Tup. “No one here hates you for something out of your control.”

He looked back at Fox, “Thorn has your armor and Vixen is directing offworld operations. It’s been pretty calm so I wouldn’t feel bad about sedating you if you try to escape. Follow instructions and it’ll only be a day or two. Call if you need anything.”

Cherry swept out of the room before either of them could argue. Fox and Tup looked at each other with mutual understanding and contempt for medics.

The next few days had troopers coming in and out through the visiting hours. Dogma and some of the other Idiots came by several times in between missions to talk to Tup. The familiar faces went a long way to cheering him up. They dragged Fox into conversation as often as they could, possibly trying to acclimate Tup to the wildly different social structure that made up the Coruscant Guard.

The constant distractions helped time pass, despite being banned from caff and work. The medics seemed almost disappointed to clear Fox for light duties. Lucky came by to bring him his armor and laugh at how fast he got Tup to call him dad.

“I’ll be your security today, Havoc got drafted into a drug bust,” said Lucky cheerfully.

“And you don’t have anything better to do than follow around someone with a 50,000 credit bounty everyone is too afraid to touch?” Fox asked sarcastically.

“Nope!”

“Greeeaaaaaat.”

Fox got about two minutes of silence, which only got them onto a train before Lucky started yapping about Separatist droid factories and how the different production methods could best be crippled. He even shows Fox the spreadsheet he was working on.

Fox gave some suggestions and critiques as the train slowed to a stop at their station. The mass of bodies flowed out onto the platform and the two soldiers were swept along, detangling themselves to push out onto the street.

Lucky finally looked up from the data pad. “This isn’t the way to the Barracks,” he said, frowning.

“I need to make sure Palpatine doesn’t do anything rash after what happened with the ARC,” Fox explained. “And get some caff.”

“I’d be surprised if he doesn’t,” Lucky muttered. “Oh! I almost forgot! The date for Scipio was moved up to this Thursday, everything else is the same though.”

“That’s perfect timing,” Fox sighed in relief. “Once the system is lost and Palpatine takes control of the banks we wouldn’t need to be so careful with illegal transactions. Has Slicer changed his passwords recently?”

“He finally made a bot to do it every time his blood pressure gets too high,” Lucky laughed.

Fox burst out laughing as they rounded the corner and nearly ran face first into Captain Rex.

He was fully armored and tense but the sight of his little brother reassured Fox in a way he couldn’t explain. He knew logically he’d still be mad about Ashoka but that didn’t matter in the moment, Fox was just glad he was still alive.

Rex punched him in the face, knocking Fox off balance and he didn’t bother trying to find his footing.

“Yeah that’s fair,” Fox muttered, taking the time to enjoy the ground.

“Hi Captain,” said Lucky somewhere above him.

“Did you know about Fives?” Rex demanded.

Fox jumped up at that, “Fives? What happened to Fives?!?”

Lucky failed too many tests on Kamino and was going to be decommed but another battalion happened to be there and smuggled him out as a shiny. Fox took him in bc Coruscant is a better place for him than an active battlefield. The Guard adopted him as their baby brother and all contributed to finishing his training. They got him when he was almost 17 but Fox didn’t clear him for duty until he was 19 cause he’s protective like that. Bc everyone was so worried about Lucky, the kid got the most varied and in-depth training of any clone ever. He could thrive in any position, even a commander. He knows slicing, mechanics, field medicine, strategy, Quinlan Vos even helped teach him about undercover and investigation stuff. He all knows how to fight force users and carries a slug thrower.

I love Lucky dearly. He’s o happy and cheerful your first impression of him is a little kitten, until he gets into a fight and then he’s a honey badger on crack.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Misconceptions

Summary: Traveling with the Mandalorian was always going to create false impressions -- if only they knew what he was like behind closed doors.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Reader being a bit of a tease, implied smut, heavy sensuality and SOFTNESS! Din is a bit of a soft dom (according to me).

So I came up with this idea on a road trip last year, when I read a theory about the concept of Mandalorian celibacy, and the dialogue generator in my brain went off the rails 😁. My personal headcanon is that while Mando is not a full-on dom like I've seen some write him, he does like to be somewhat in control so yeah.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You knew something was wrong the second he entered -- or rather,  stormed into -- the small room in the inn your little crew was occupying for the night. Normally even when fully armored he can move with surprising stealth, stalking his prey like a wild nexu on the prowl.

You've always wondered how he manages to not clank like a droid wherever he walks.

Now, though, none of that control softens the thud of his heavy footsteps as he passes you without even so much as a greeting and aimlessly unpacks his gear, taking no care to muffle the clatter of his personal arsenal before he chooses his pulse rifle to dismantle and start cleaning.

You approach him cautiously, noting the deadly sharp motions of his gloved hands and the stiff angles of his shoulders. He's quiet, much too quiet, only the crackle of his tight breaths sounding through his vocoder.

"Want some help?" you ask, keeping your own tone warm and flashing a brief smile at his gleaming helmet.

Silence.

Undeterred, you delicately pull his EE-3 carbine from the mess and seat yourself cross-legged near his feet, expertly taking it apart and starting to lovingly free it from the layers of buildup caused by frequent use.

A side glance reveals that his shoulders have loosened slightly, rolling forward as a longer breath drags from his lungs. He's not angry at you, as your unsolicited presence actually seems to have calmed him a tiny bit.

The pair of you work in the quiet for some time, only disturbed by the child whenever he toddles up to one or the other of you to eagerly show you some new insect he's found in the dust of your temporary lodging quarters.

"So," you finally say casually, not taking your eyes from the detailing of his rifle as you finish your task. "Want to talk about what's got you in such a snit?"

He snorts. "No."

"Din," you finally look up at him then, and see his head tilt towards you as it always does when his true name leaves your lips, "you know you don't have to shoulder everything yourself anymore. We're partners. I'm more than capable of carrying my share. What's happened?"

"It's nothing like that," he grumbles, his visor flicking away. "Someone just made me angry, is all."

You wait, opening your arms and lap to Grogu as he squeals and reaches for you. Din's already said more than he probably meant to, which means there's more coming.

You just have to wait for it.

He doesn't keep you waiting long, to both his surprise and yours. You've been wearing him down with your patience lately, it seems.

"Some piece of bantha fodder in the cantina made a comment about you after you took Grogu back up here," he mutters. "He had the GALL to ask me what I pay you."

You hear leather protesting as his dangerous hands clench into fists.

By what he leaves unsaid, you know the implications of the remark meant something much different than simply a relationship of business employment.

You blink up at him, oddly more touched by his rage towards the scum who would suggest such a thing than bothered by the story itself.

"If we weren't already trying to keep a low profile here, Cyar'ika, I would have stuffed those words back down his vile throat until he choked on them."

You rise to your feet, Grogu still cradled to your chest, trying to deny that you find his threat on your behalf so arousing. "Well, I can't decide whether to be insulted or flattered. I never thought I could pass for a courtesan."

"You're not helping" he tells you dryly. "And you know that's a load of bantha."

With a grin, you take the child to his little bed in the next room, and place your palms against the Mandalorian's cool beskar breastplate when you return. "I'm sorry for joking about it, ner'cyare. And I'm sorry you have to hear people speculating about our relationship. I wish they could keep those thoughts to themselves."

Letting your fingers drift upward to tug on his cowl, you add, "But it's not even as bad as what someone said to me while I was getting food for Grogu."

He goes rigid. "Tell me."

"Some old guy gave me a pitying look when he saw I was with you. Came over and basically said something along the lines of, 'Best to give up sooner rather than later, Sweetheart. You know those Mandalorians...they're CELIBATE.'"

Din's left speechless for a moment, and you can almost imagine his eyes blinking in shock.

"I...what...why...?"

You shrug carelessly and step away from his body, crouching down to reorganize his weapons where they lie forgotten on the floor. "It's just a rumor, Din. Since our people pick up foundlings all over the place and have so many rules of conduct. The galaxy's just jumped to the conclusion that our people don't actually engage in...intimacy, of any kind. I used to hear the same thing said about me, before I stopped wearing the armor."

He's quiet again, thoughtful as he draws the curtains across the window, shrouding the room in shadow. You allow a wicked grin to curve your lips for a moment, confident you've rerouted his focus from his earlier outrage.

A muted clank tells you he's removing his beskar now that it's dark.

"I hope I didn't offend you by relaying that story," you sing-song into the shadows behind you.

Nothing.

As soon as your guard is down, a pair of long arms has you in a durasteel grasp and you're lifted from the floor and tossed onto the bed before you can even make a sound.

"What's brought this on?" you half-laugh into his bare chest as he all but smothers you.

Hot lips tease your throat and rough hands crawl up your spine beneath your shirt, making you arch into him for more and wrap your legs around his hips.

"I'll show you who's celibate," he growls close to your mouth, punctuating his words with a kiss that hints at teeth. "Someone's asking to be reminded."

"Teach me a lesson, then, ner'alor," you hum into his hair, reverently inhaling the smell of leather, sweat, and smoke that always saturates his skin. Most times he protests your use of such an authoritative term for him, but when he's riled up, you know that some deep dark part of him likes it.

He needs no further urging, and soon both of your respective annoyances are long forgotten in the throes of bliss.

Much later, when the flames have cooled, you lie tangled together in the sheets, his head resting on your chest and your fingers lovingly working the knots out of his thick hair. As much as you yearn to someday look upon the face of the man you love so deeply, you can't deny that the darkness gives a gift of true closeness you might never have known in the seeing world. The flicker of his eyelashes against your skin and the way his now-tranquil breaths warm your body are enough in this moment, and no amount of credits could ever persuade you to give this up.

"Your helmet has really made a reptavian's nest of your hair this time, my love," you observe as your fingers catch in his curling locks for the umpteenth time.

"Mmm, most of that mess is your doing this time, Cyar'ika." Din's voice is husky, as it always gets when he's on the verge of sleep, but he sounds more at ease than he has in days, and you allow yourself to hope that he'll sleep through the night tonight, that his body will actually let him fully rest for once.

"At least I can undo that with time. I'm afraid once daylight comes, my new skin pattern won't be so easily hidden." You have a few suspicions already of where the bruising evidence of his zealous kiss blossoms across your flesh, and as you prefer to dress much lighter than your armored companion, such adornments do not go unseen.

"You love wearing my mark." There's the barest hint of smugness underlying his tone. "Don't try to pretend otherwise."

"...Alright, I won't." You reach down to toy with his mythosaur necklace, letting the tips of your fingers flit down his torso and feeling him pull you closer in response, his own hands settling into their place at the top of your hips. "Whatever other people might say, Din Djarin, I love you. Never doubt that."

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Mesh'la."

You're about to drift off, there in his embrace, when a lonely chirp from the other room jolts you fully awake and you sigh.

"I'll go get him, Din."

"Hurry back," he murmurs, reluctantly releasing you from his warm hold.

You scrabble around in the blankets for a moment, unable to locate your clothes, until Din tosses his shirt at you. "Here, take mine."

You pull it over your head, feeling immediately oddly at home swimming in the folds of the massive piece of clothing. It's unexpectedly soft, well worn from years of use -- and abuse -- and it smells just like him. You smile to yourself as you crawl out of bed, the shirt's hem drifting to the tops of your thighs.

"Cover your eyes, I'm opening the door," you tell him.

"I'm not going to go blind from a sliver of light," he grumbles.

"Just thought I'd warn you." You push the door to your shared room open, about to go rescue Grogu from his solitude.

"Wait. Stay there."

You hear him dressing in the other half of his clothes, and the bed creaks as he rises. You instinctively let your eyes flutter shut as his quiet footsteps approach from behind.

"Just for a minute...I want to really look at you with my own eyes."

Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you realize then that he's never really seen you, either.

Through the visor of his helmet, sure, but he's never actually set eyes on you this vulnerable, this...undressed.

You're almost as much of a mystery to him as he is to you, intimately as you know each other.

It amazes you, the trust you've established between the two of you as he stands before you and his breath rustles your unkempt hair. He doesn't reach to cover your eyes himself, worried that you'll look at him without consent. He trusts that your love and respect for him is enough to keep your eyes softly closed.

He studies you, hands tracing down your arms and along the shape of your body covered in his dark shirt. His touch is light, almost shy as he takes the sight of you in. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that one day he would be standing here with someone like you, someone wearing his clothes, who loves him enough to share everything with him and not demand that he break his sacred creed before he's ready.

Someone who he wants, more than anything, to be his forever, to one day, if his life ever allows it, become his riduur.

The person that he almost -- almost -- for a second entertains the thought of telling to open her eyes, to really LOOK at him as he is, unmasked in the soft light of the hallway.

But he doesn't, not this time.

Someday.

You feel his hands frame your face, melt into the familiar calluses of his fingertips as his thumbs lightly caress along your cheekbones. You smile wistfully as he tenderly kisses your closed eyelids, then rests his forehead against yours in a keldabe kiss.

"Mesh'la," he hums quietly, and you can hear the hushed awe in his voice, the way he gets when he's overwhelmed by feelings he can't put into words. "Dank farrik, you're so lovely."

You shiver slightly at his words, feeling heat race to your skin. You don't know exactly why, but you've always loved the sound of his voice when he lets that particular expletive slip.

"Careful, Djarin," you murmur as your lips seek out his. "You don't want me asking for another round before you're ready."

"Why do you assume I'm not ready?" he teases, teeth catching playfully at your bottom lip as you pull back.

"Developing more of an appetite, I see." You rise on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his, grinning as always at the way his scruffy facial hair tickles your face.

"I had to, to keep up with you." His hands tighten on your waist, drawing you against his well-muscled body suggestively.

You reluctantly push away from him, though not before planting a kiss in the hollow where his throat meets his collarbone, a place you know drives him wild. "I do have to go. Your ad'ika wants his buir."

"That was a dirty trick, Mesh'la." He sounds put out, and a little pent up now.

You twist your finger in his necklace, before turning away so you can open your eyes and finally go rescue your foundling. "I'll make it up to you later, Cyare. I promise."

"Don't make me pay you," he deadpans, reminding you of the comment that first started off this very pleasurable evening.

You smirk, knowing he can hear it in your voice as you saunter away. "Oh, I'm very certain I'll get exactly what I want from you."

When you finally return, the child clutching the folds of your borrowed shirt, he's in bed again, so once the door is shut the darkness swallows you in its comforting shroud once more.

You listen to Grogu's happy squeaks as he clambers across from your chest to Din's, and the answering murmurs of his father. Content in the company of the two beings you love most in the galaxy, you stretch out to lie against your lover's warm body, relishing the temporary luxury of a soft mattress to sink into and room to spare. You're not going to wake up with kinks in your spine for the first time in forever.

"You should get a bigger bed on the ship," you suggest through a yawn. "This is awfully nice."

"What's wrong with mine?" He sounds offended, the fingers of his free hand searching until they find their way beneath the draping excess of his shirt that's still cocooning your form. It surprised you at first, probably surprised him too, just how much the man craves these rare spells of skin-to-skin contact, made all the more meaningful by his personal restrictions. You settle into his languid stroking before mustering a reply.

"It's just nice not to worry about falling off the bed when all three of us are together."

"I suppose," he concedes, pausing a moment to no doubt smile at the tiny snores of the now-sleeping child. "But there is something to be said for how close necessity draws us. Don't you roll away from me in the middle of the night."

"Or what, you big gundark, you won't pay me?"

He squeezes the soft part of your waist at your teasing. "Maybe I won't."

"That's a breach of contract." You tangle your legs with his and wrap your arms around his midsection, assuring him without words that you're not going anywhere. "Admit it, you'd like it too. Imagine a world where you don't wake up every morning with stiff muscles." You lazily start to knead into his back, soothing out the weariness and tension that like to take up permanent residence there.

He sighs appreciatively, breath hitching slightly whenever your ministrations encounter an especially stubborn knot. "I do not wake up EVERY morning with stiff muscles."

"Could've fooled me, with the amount of old-man groaning I hear whenever you get out of bed."

"I don't do that."

"Why do you think I always wake up when you leave, hmm?"

"Because you're incapable of keeping yourself warm and you need me to keep from freezing to death." His reply is certain, leaving no room for further rebuttal.

"Kriff. You do know me too well. You still sound like an old man in the mornings, though."

"Don't argue with me, Cyar'ika." Din's voice is warm, but his hand starts straying from platonic towards more intimate. "You're at a bit of a disadvantage."

"How so?" You shouldn't ask, but an impish desire to hear him actually voice his dangerous thoughts overpowers your common sense.

The smirk in his voice is audible. "You have a much more difficult time keeping quiet than I do. You wouldn't want to wake the kid now, would you?"

"Dank farrik."

He relents when you wordlessly concede, returning to a comforting caress rather than an instigating one.

You've almost dozed off again in your shared darkness when the mattress bucks as he hauls himself out of bed to take Grogu back to his own room. You gaze through half-closed eyes at his silhouette when he pauses, back-lit in the warm glow of the opened doorway. You take him in without detail for a brief moment, the curves of his well-defined shoulders and arms, the textured mess of his hair, the slope of his prominent nose. Your heart blossoms with the affection and passion this wounded, pure warrior ignites within you, and you are hit once more with the desire to truly see him, bare and in the light, all his barriers laid down for you.

He's the only man you would ever consider taking as riduur.

Someday.

Before you know it, your brave hunter has returned to your embrace, leaning over you and trapping you between his arms as he rests his scruffy cheek against your smooth one, the two of you allowing a long moment to simply breathe each other in, thankful once more to whichever gods you may believe in that for one more day, you are alive, and you belong to each other.

Then he rises to his knees and pulls you up with him, his breath warm on your skin.

"Don't ever leave me, Mesh'la," he whispers roughly into your throat.

Your head snaps back in delight at the sensations his mouth stirs within you, and your nails scrape across his scarred back in answer, drawing wordless sounds from deep in his chest.

"Never, ner'cyare. I would hunt you across the stars if ever we were parted."

He sighs, the movement of his body rocking yours. "Thank you."

"Can I keep this shirt?" you ask saucily.

"Yes." His hands curl around its hem and start lifting. "But take it off for now."

You hum questioningly as you allow him to guide the thick fabric over your head.

"After all," and his voice hardens, taking on the dogged quality that makes him the best there is at what he does.

"I haven't forgotten about that next round you promised, my love."

Ner'cyare = My beloved

Ner'alor = My leader/boss

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Mesh'la = I love you, Beautiful

Riduur = Spouse

Ad'ika = Little One/Small child

Buir = Parent

[anabdaniels]

So fitting for happily ever after

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Summary: You got jealous because of a past situation with his secretary, so Jack makes sure to calm you down aka Jack eats reader on his office desk.

Word counting: 1.9k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, reader curses in another language (translations provided at the end).

A/N: First things first I made reader cursing in Portuguese because my Brazilian ass can't find English curse words to sound offensive enough hahaha. Whatever, the idea of writing this came while I was listening to some wild Reddit stories so...

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

You could barely feel the ground under your feet as you walked inside the ranch, boiling in pure anger, the 30 minutes in the car on your way home for sure didn’t help the thousands of thoughts going through your brain.

“Jack Daniels.” You called more loudly than you would normally as you entered the bedroom. Jack promptly looked at you in complete confusion as he finished putting his t-shirt on.

“Something wrong, honey?” he asked calmly, despite the crease between his eyebrows.

“Can you please explain to me what kind of fucking business have you been doing at your damn job?” you asked mad, but keeping your tone under control the best you could.

“What’s the problem, sugar? What has made you so upset?” he questioned with one hand resting on the dresser and the other on his hip.

“The problem is that aquela vaca do caralho…” you stopped and took a deep breath, not wanting to lose your composure “Your dear little secretary talked to me at the fucking pharmacy and made sure to let me know that you have been fucking her.” You could feel your stomach twisting only with the idea of it.

“I expected you to know she lied to you.” Jack said calmly, even knowing that the situation was delicate.

“Then can you explain to me how the fuck she knows you have a single freckle on your left inner thigh?” you questioned concerningly calm.

“Honey, the situation ain’t like you’re probably imagining.” Jack answered in a soft tone.

“C’mon, you’ll tell me that she stumped and accidentally fell sat on your dick? Não fode, Daniels.” you rolled your eyes, both hands lying on your hips; Jack had to breathe calmly to not laugh at your bold statement, aware that laughing would only complicate his situation.

“My love, I can assure you that all that happened was a simple one-night stand a couple of years before we met and nothing more.” Jack kept his calm, even though he was already planning the reprimanding and possible dismissal he would give to his secretary the next time he saw her.

“Haven’t I asked you a thousand times if you had something with her because she always acted very pick me around you? And you denied it every time.” You inquired raising your eyebrows and tilting your head slightly, still not amused by his answer.

“I didn’t think would be relevant to tell you this since it happened once and didn’t have any relevance.” Jack said sincerely, almost starting to worry about all that.

“Where?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Where?” Jack repeated confused.

“Where did you fucked her?” you questioned once more, making the question the clearer possible.

“At her apartment…” he answered seeming completely clueless of which was your goal with that.

“At least some good news, I haven’t slept on the same bed as that bitch.” You squinted at the very moment Jack chuckled and approached you.

“Now can you calm down a little bit, for god's sake?” he spoke while resting his hands on your upper arms, softly rubbing your skin.

“Oh if I wasn't calm, your nose would have been broken a long time ago.” You rolled your eyes as he kept a goofy smile, holding you by the waist.

“Didn’t know you were that jealous ‘bout me.” Jack made sure to tease you with that smug tone.

“You’re lucky that I’m calmer than most girls back home. Some of them would’ve already put sugar on your car’s tank or sold your limited-edition Stetsons for 20 dollars on eBay.”

“Good thing I don't intend to make any serious mistake.” He joked and laughed when you seemed not happy with it. “Ease your heart, Mrs. Daniels. I have no intention to even look at any woman that ain’t my gorgeous wife.” Jack assured calmly and leaned to kiss the tip of your nose.

“You better. I imagine that even being sterilized, you still like to have both of your testicles.” You stated slightly raising your eyebrows.

“I do.” He confirmed seriously, making both of you laugh.

Despite being the one who cooked almost 100% of the meals, Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of doing the groceries and organizing them in the pantry, and since you would do anything but cook, you assumed those tasks. Once at the supermarket parking lot with your phone and shop list on hand, you realized you had forgotten your wallet at home. Already mumbling all the curse words you knew while starting your car, you remembered that Jack was at Statesman, which, despite being out of the city too, was way closer than the ranch.

Once you arrived at the distillery and got to the floor of Jack’s office, you were happily surprised when you didn’t see his dubious character secretary at the front desk, but the sympathetic lady you used to talk a lot every time you had to wait for Jack to get out of some meeting.

You walked calmly to Jack’s office, knocking on the door and getting in as you heard his voice telling you to do it, stopping in front of his desk and waiting for him to look at you.

“Honeybee.” Jack smiled openly as he saw you and leaned back on his chair, taping one of his thighs. Without hesitation you moved to sit sideways on his lap, letting your arms rest on his shoulders. “What brings my dear wife here today?”

“My shitty memory to be honest.” You admitted, tilting your head slightly “I was on my way to do the groceries and realized I forgot my wallet at the ranch.”

“Oh, I see.” He answered with a soft chuckle, grabbing his wallet and giving you his bank card.

“Just for the record, I was planning to pass on some other places after it, so…” you were ready to start a little justification speech, still not having completely lost the habit of thinking that you should have a complex reason to buy something, but Jack didn’t give you the chance to even start with it.

“It’s okay, sugar, don’t worry your pretty head with this. If my dear wife can’t have a little fun with my card, then what am I working for?” Jack winked at you with a sideway smile and leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips.

“Fine, I’ll remember this.” You chuckled while playing with a lock of his hair “Speaking about work, I haven't seen your dear secretary around.” You mentioned it with a bit of sarcasm.

“She got transferred to the city branch.” Jack explained calmly, resting both hands on your waist.

“I imagine she’s missing her beloved boss.” You said with a slightly annoyed grimace.

“Honey…” he laughed quietly and kissed the curve of your neck.

“I’m just stating the reality.” You shrugged “I wonder if you really haven’t taken a bite of her among shifts.” At that point, you were just wanting to mess with him a bit.

“Well, I’ll summarize my answer simply saying that all of my office furniture has been christened with you.” Safe to say it got you out off guard; you didn’t doubt the fact that death would be a more considerable option for Jack if the other option was cheating on you, but you were aware that he had a life before you and that new information was something you were not expecting.

“Now, that’s the kind of news I like to receive on a turbulent day.” You admitted with a wide smile.

“Good, now ease your jealous, y’know I’d kiss the ground you walk if you asked me to.” He finished the phrase with a soft nibble on your shoulder, making you squirm a bit on his lap.

“Personally, I’d prefer you to use your mouth for other stuff.”

“Now tell me something I don’t know.” Jack teased and faster than the blink of an eye, you were sat on his desk, his hands all over you and his mustache tickling the sensitive skin that was exposed on your cleavage. You tried to keep your breath slow, aware that making any loud sound wouldn’t be a good idea. Both of your hands dived on Jack’s hair, your fingers tangling on the brown strands as you got more softened by his touch.

With no ceremony, Jack sneaked his hands under your skirt, taking off your panties and moving his fingers to your pulsing core as his other hand quickly rested over your mouth to suppress your pleased noise, which wasn’t very helpful to your self-control, since the feeling of his huge calloused hand covering your mouth and a good part of your face just helped your dirty thoughts to go further.

Enjoying the view of your body softening, Jack kept his fingers working between your legs, smirking at every single spasm of your hips. Conscious about how close you were to losing control of your noises, you bit the palm of Jack’s hand, sinking your teeth more into his skin as two of his fingers slid inside you and his thumb rubbed your swollen clit.

Yes, you knew that all those papers with the Statesman logo spread over his desk probably were important, but you weren’t giving a shit about that fact at that moment, letting one of your hands crumple the nearest pile of pages. Caring less than you, Jack decided to move further, kneeling on the floor so his head was placed between your thighs. You didn’t have the time to catch your breath before his tongue was buried in your wet core and you managed your body reactions the best you could, pulling his hair, smashing the papers on the desk, and keeping your bite on the palm of his hand.

Your eyes rolled back as your eyelids fell close, your mind doing you no favor as you thought about the fact that, even being the charming boss who could have spent a good time with half of the Statesman staff during his office hours, you were the first person to have that kind of moment with him at his office, and the meeting room, and the warehouse of barrels…

Seeming to know that you were deeply stuck on the moment, Jack didn’t spare his efforts, keeping his fingers and mouth working rhythmically on your throbbing cunt, getting more pleased as he felt your thighs squeezing his head more and more at the same pace your fingers twisted a huge portion of his hair, causing a slight pain Jack enjoyed deeply.

You got the last straw when his fingers curled inside you, providing you with the single push you needed to get over the edge, involuntarily moving your hips and letting out an audible moan, feeling your whole body starting to melt as Jack slowed his motion until completely stop, needing a few seconds to process what was going on when he sat back on his chair and pulled you to his lap, letting you nestle between his arms and kissing the top of your head.

“Can I ask a question?” your voice came out quiet after a moment.

“Of course, love.” Jack answered promptly while moving one hand to caress your back.

“I’m getting this treatment every time I show up to ask you for money?” you looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Only if you’re all jealous for no reason.” He answered with a cocky grin, leaning forward to give you a soft peck on the lips.

Translations: Aquela vaca do caralho- that fucking bitch Não fode- don't fuck/mess with me

Tagging: @missladym1981

[toffeebrew]

THOIGHTS ON HYPERSOMNIA (error x ink x dream)..?

Going to be honest I didn't consider this ship till I saw your account talking about it

Quick Edit: Somehow I accidentally convinced myself I like this ship by doing this?? LMAO

im going just off whatever my brain says so... hopefully it makes sense? I'm going to stretch things to make this work okay bare with me. That and I haven't had years to build headcanons so some of these are off the cuff. Nothing is canon obviously

I tried to wrap my head around how I would do it in my interpretation, and I decided perhaps if error calmed the hell down and realized maybe destroying universes shouldn't be ur life's goal. Due to morality difference I had trouble picturing dream being personal with error otherwise. I think perhaps some of these things dream/ink picked up on whether it being kidnapped by error or just via battle or something idk lol.

Due to Dream's empathy and knowledge of people he understands Error's motivations stem from a source of anger and not ration. Dream calls him out on it and Error feels a little violated by how accurate he gets it. Perhaps if Error did give up on destruction someday dream would be there to help him with his new identity???

More yapping under the cut

Ink, Error and Dream all relate to being outcasts and their own isolation due to the their roles (whether they bestowed it upon themselves or not). They're all lonely af (LMAOO).

I personally hc both ink and dream can lift way more than their weight. Ink not to dream's extent but he definitely is stronger than he appears. Error is perplexed with this information.

I never understood the " restores the balance thing" so personally I believe this was misconception dream had before he got to know error! Perhaps this manifested as rumors in the multiverse and error was rumored to be actually helpful instead of harmful. Also dream believed people had better intentions then they truly do at one point but as dream matures he realizes this isn't the case. Something like that. Not because I think dream is dumb, rather just want to see the best in people LOL even if he thinks what they're doing is wrong.

Error has a general distrust of dream at first, perhaps because his words remind him of another kind soul (it's blueberry... LMAO). But a part of him, even just a bit , just wants to have a "friend" (him and blue weren't exactly friends but yknow what I mean) like him again.

Dream weirdly finds some comfort in the anti-void as there is less emotional noise. I could picture dream commenting on it maybe, not directly referencing his own emotions but instead that the anti-void is calm (uh does dreams empathy have a bandwidth? I'm making that assumption.)

Dream got extremely excited when he realized error could also understand spanish.

He got quite invested in UnderNovela, dunno why but I imagine dream to be a fan of fictional romantic stories and dramas. He, Ink and error enjoy talking about it together. They've extrapolated a bunch of theories and such together for what will happen next.

I don't see dream as a crybaby but more suspectible to crying than the other two. Error doesn't... react the best to people crying nor do I believe ink to be the best at comforting others (projecting there whoops). I feel like Error is the type of guy to shove things in your face in hopes of making it stop LMAO. Like how you shake a toy in front a baby in hopes of getting them to stop crying. I just imagine error shoving sweets or some other gift in Dreams hands if he were to start crying. Dream would find his reaction kinds funny and maybe would brighten his mood a little bit. Ink is also trying his best and I suppose would try to be encouraging to dream. He would definitely give dream a well deserved hug. In general it's just an awkward mess, but they try their best. Dream would apologize after because of course he would.

Error in general gives "gifts" to dream, because he noticed Ink gives gifts to Dream when they get closer to being friends. Gifts in quotations because they're stolen. Idk, Error is weird.

While Dream obviously cam teleport au to au he doesn't understand as much the technical aspects of the multiverse. Error seems quite open to any questions he has about it I think. He hears error and ink discuss it at times but honestly it sounds quite confusing to him. Idk he's a curious little guy I think he would find himself love hearing Ink and Error yap about stuff like that *shrug*

I have this hc dream loves mlp so yeah they would watch that together.

[dyns33]

Down the Pit

I think I'll do a little Bane x reader series, because Bane is doing things to my brain lately.

Y/N is female, orphan, and from Gotham, because even if I'm not sure to put Batman in the story, I need some references.

Y/N regretted going to India.

The few people she had told about her trip had warned her. It wasn't always a good idea to go alone. But she was young, she had just finished high school, and she had always been alone since her parents died.

The first days went very well, and then it was hell.

Y/N didn't really understand how things had happened, but she had been wrongly accused of a crime, a serious crime, after having all of her things stolen.

Without her papers or her phone, not knowing who to call, she had not been able to ask for help, she had not been able to defend herself, and once she had been found guilty, she had been sent to a prison. But not an ordinary prison.

The Pit seemed bottomless when they took her away. The moon barely shone, not allowing her to see where exactly she was. It was difficult to catch the rope.

She cried and begged, but the guards didn't care, ordering her to be quiet.

Luckily for her, Y/N obeyed, going downstairs in silence. The other inmates were sleeping, not seeing her arrive, the night hiding her arrival.

A man who introduced himself as a doctor greeted her. He seemed surprised and sad to see a woman here, taking her hand to quickly lead her to a cell.

“We have to hide this.” He said giving her some loose clothing, his eyes fixed on her chest, before giving her an old knife while looking at her hair. “And we have to cut it.”

"You don't understand… I have nothing to do here, I'm innocent…"

"Cut. Cut, now, if you don't want them to take you."

There were no other women in the Pit. Obviously it was rare that they were sent there, and they did not survive long. Y/N's main crime was being a foreigner, young and stupid, whose fate didn't matter to anyone.

The doctor was kind enough to let her hide in his cell, but it was not a viable solution. The other prisoners were curious, and there was the problem of food. The old man wasn't strong enough to go to the middle of the prison and fight for some water and something to eat.

He could have swapped Y/N, but there was still some humanity left at the bottom of the Pit. The doctor spoke with another prisoner. A big guy who occupied the next cell. He had tied up some ratty sheets so no one could observe him and he only went out when necessary.

Speaking in a language she didn't understand, the doctor pointed at her. The tall prisoner observed Y/N. His eyes were the only thing she could see, the rest of his face covered by some sort of turban. He nodded slowly.

"Bane agrees to take you."

"What do you mean ?" panicked the young woman as she moved away from them, cowering in a corner of the cell.

"He will protect you. He tried to protect the last one, and he is the guardian of her child. Go with him."

Not really having a choice, Y/N followed Bane, completely frightened by this silent stranger.

There was indeed a child, sitting on the bed, playing with carved pieces of wood. Unlike her, the child was not afraid when he saw her, visibly delighted that a new person was visiting them.

This isolation had an explanation. The Pit was dangerous for a child, but it turned out that Bane had a secret. Talia.

Very protective, he took a while to let Y/N near the child, while the girl demanded that he play with her, tell stories from the outside world and hold her in his arms The little girl had lost her mother a few years before, only vaguely remembering the woman who gave birth to her.

“Tell me again about the snow ! And the wind ! And the ocean !”

"Yes, yes, calm down Talia. It's late, don't you want to sleep instead ?"

“Tell.” ordered Bane, who refused little to the child.

He tried not to show it, but the man loved those stories too. He listened, holding Talia against his chest until she fell asleep, his gaze only turning away from Y/N if there was a suspicious noise outside the cell.

There was only one bed and it was for the child. At first, Y/N was allowed to sit against a wall with a sheet. It wasn't comfortable, the ratty blanket was useless and she often woke up shivering.

Still speaking little, Bane ended up lifting her one evening to stick her to him, right at the foot of the bed. He was huge, warm, but soft. Several times she had seen him fight with the other inmates, but he had never been violent towards the child or her.

After several months, they began to feel like a little family. Bane provided their protection, Y/N taught them many things, and Talia was their light in this darkness.

Just as he sometimes didn't know what to do when the little girl was sulking, he didn't know how to react when the woman cried on his shoulder, thinking about her past life and realizing that she would never get out of this place. His hands gently massaged her back, but he said nothing. There was nothing to say.

The other inmates had noticed Y/N, and even while mistaking her for a man, some were envious. Another subject of fighting, for Bane's 'wife'.

“I am not your wife.” she muttered when he came back covered in blood.

"They'd be more aggressive if they thought you weren't mine."

“I am not something to own.”

"No, here you are less than an object. You are nothing. Others would ask you for favors just so that you can breathe."

"It is not fair."

"I know, Habibi."

He didn't add that she might be grateful that he took such good care of her, but the message was clear. And he wasn't wrong.

In the Pit, there were no rules. There was no kindness. Bane's behavior was special. Unlike the doctor, he had been thrown here when he was very young, practically born in this place and yet he was calmer than the others, more patient, more polite.

He didn’t ask anything from Y/N in return for his protection, other than taking care of Talia. He could have done her a lot of harm if he wanted.

Even though she didn't fully accept her situation, Y/N tried to survive by holding on to what she had. What she had was this little girl who had never seen the sky, and this taciturn giant.

One evening, after several months had passed, while everyone was asleep, she passed her hand over Bane's face, removing his shawl. He was young, younger than she had imagined. Quite handsome. Her dark eyes watched her as she touched his cheek, his nose, then his lips.

He trembled slightly when she kissed him. He didn't know anything about kissing. About love. Those kinds of things weren't useful here. He who was so tender did not know tenderness. Like beauty and joy, like women and children, all this would quickly die in the Pit.

Talia was eight years old when the other prisoners discovered that she was not a boy. They wondered about Y/N. The cell's small lock wouldn't protect them for long, and Bane couldn't do anything against the entire prison.

The doctor had told them about the escape attempts, and all the failures. The falls. There was no time to think about that. The fate that awaited them was worse than a fall.

Using his fists and all his fury, Bane blasted a path towards the climbing wall, shouting at them to run and not look back.

To make sure she wouldn't fall or get caught, Y/N had the child go first, following her while doing her best not to think about what would happen if they didn't arrive all the way to the top.

Maybe fate had mercy, maybe their determination was stronger than everything, but when the sun touched her skin, Y/N let out a scream, mixed with happiness and despair, as she took Talia in her arms.

This immense ball of fire fascinated the kid for a few moments, then she turned towards the Pit. From the top, we couldn't see anything. It was impossible to see Bane.

At the child's insistence, they stayed two days, hoping that he would join them. Then, the heat, hunger and thirst forced them to move.

“We have to find my father !” Talia declared. "Mom told me about him. He was supposed to come get us, he's very powerful. He can help Bane."

It was impossible to explain to her that finding someone with just their name wasn't that simple. The world was much bigger than the Pit. Although Ra's al Ghul wasn't a very common name.

However, it was enough to say it in the first city they found for men in black to start following them, before asking them why they were looking for Ra's al Ghul.

Obviously he was the leader of a gang of ninjas or something like that. He did not know that his wife had taken his place in prison. He didn't know he had a daughter. The news seemed to please him.

At least, that was what Y/N thought she understood, since she didn’t meet him. He had no interest in meeting her. As soon as he had his daughter back, he ordered the young woman to be sent home.

He could have abandoned her in the middle of nowhere or had her killed, but maybe he suspected that Talia wouldn't be happy if she found out what had happened.

After more than three years of absence, Y/N found herself back home in Gotham. It was complicated to explain to the authorities that she was alive, that she had nothing left, that there was a horrible prison in India. There were a lot of questions, checks, endless procedures, just to get her identity back.

Some associations helped her find money and accommodation, but there was nothing regarding the Pit. It wasn't the Gotham Police Department's problem. They were not interested in what was happening in another country.

Y/N found a small job in a cafe, and after several months an apartment. Life was returning to normal. Except her life would never be normal again.

Every night she thought of Talia and Bane. She wondered if the child was okay. She wondered if the man was alive. She often cried, singing the lullabies she whispered to the little girl, remembering the powerful arms that surrounded her.

It seemed pointless and dangerous to return to India, but Y/N kept telling herself that she would see them again one day. After everything they had been through, she had to see them again. One day.

[hanafubukki]

I'm okay on my side ! Hope you're doing well too ☺️ But yeah, this update awating is already making my emotions blow up. Like, you see the big roller-coster, you know it's going to be some big thing. And you feel like you're already up there.

But I'm also in denial for any more emotional damage coming up. (Silver fighting against Dawn brainrot breaking my heart-) ("I'm sorry. I now know you loved me very much. But neverless, you are now my father enemy. Bloodties don't matter that much for me. Because I will always be my father's son." 😭💀). So I'm in OT3 fluffy/angsty mode where I live in a cottage with my two handsome husbands and my baby Silver. In a peaceful time. Having funny shenanigans with the Draconia in-laws. And just chilling in a cute alternative version of the past we going to have more information about in 2 days.

Everything will be fine- I hope. But I'm gathering tissues. Just in case.

- 🦋 Anon

[OT3 Masterlist]

Hello 🦋 Anonie 💞💚🌻

Glad to hear you’re doing good, I’m going well; just antsy. But yes!! Your analogy is perfect. We know something big is going to come and we know it’s going to hurt, but we are powerless to it.

All the while, time is slowly passing by as we wait our demise 😂🫡

Kind of like the people on Sage island…okay okay, I’ll stop ajsjdkdn 🤣🤣

BUT I’M SHAKING YOU 🦋 ANONIE

“I'm sorry. I now know you loved me very much. But neverless, you are now my father enemy. Bloodties don't matter that much for me. Because I will always be my father's son."

Did you have to hurt me this way?? But ahhh the brain rot 🥹💞💞 It’s amazing.

If it’s any comfort 🦋 Anonie, I have several OT3 asks in my inbox that I will answer soon hopefully. And, knowing me, the new update is going to get my brain into overdrive. So more fanfics and more OT3 most likely ☺️💞💞 (and theories and in general screaming 🤣)

Gather all the tissues because we are going to need them 🦋 Anonie, there’s a reason why they look so angry and I can imagine whatever it is, we are not ready. Though I’m sure, Ortho will pop up at the end in a cliffhanger probably.

Here’s a small comfort fic, to soothe us before troubling times:

You gasped awake, breathing heavily.

Your vision unfocused, hands trembling.

“YN?”

A hand cupped your cheek, bringing your eyes to worried crimson.

It was difficult to breathe.

A forehead leaned against yours, “Shh. Try and copy how I breathe precious.”

You tried to follow along, eventually matching Lilia’s.

As you calmed down, you were brought back to your surroundings. You felt a hand gently rubbing your back as you slumped forward into Lilia. You could see Dawn’s concerned eyes through your blurred vision.

Dawn and Lilia murmured something above you before you felt a kiss placed upon your shoulder.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Dawn leave the room.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“In a bit,” your voiced wavered.

Lilia tucked you closer into him.

You didn’t know when you dozed off, but the gentle shake from Dawn woke you.

“Drink this Love, it’ll help you sleep better.”

Warm milk and honey, the combination had you smiling.

Something the Lilia in the future loved to make for his boys. You could recall Lilia proclaiming in several of his stories about how this very drink would put the toughest and most stubborn children to sleep.

The memories of your dream came back. You closed your eyes before looking at your husbands. Their worried expressions had you spilling every detail you could remember.

By the end, you felt more tired than ever but more comforted as well.

Your husbands hugged you as they reassured you with their words.

“We’ll take Silver and Malleus from my sister’s tomorrow and have a picnic in the meadow. You’ll see first hand that your dreams are just that, dreams and nothing more.”

“You’re not allowed to cook, Lilia.”

“Hey! I can make simple sandwiches.”

“If you ever want our son back from your sister and Malleus, you’ll never utter those words in front of them.”

Their banter lulled you to sleep.

What better way to be loved then to be in the middle of two such loving souls?

Who cherished you and their family endlessly like the number of stars in the sky.

With them, you would know a True Happy Ending.

Am I implying something with the three of them home alone without Silver?? Maybe. Maybe not. Lolol ☺️💞

But also, I could have changed the whole atmosphere and turned it angsty/horrific with an added line or two but I didn’t.

Aren’t I gracious? 🤣🌺

[the-kr8tor]

Cook Hobie and Sous Chef reader because I am GONEEE girl byeee.

The first time you meet is at your interview, he's barely interested as the owner goes on and on and onnnnn. He doesn't believe talk means anything when it comes to cooking, he needs to actually SEE your skills before he lets you into his kitchen. And much to his delight after a trial run you do more than just fine.

It's been a month at your new job as a sous chef and tensions are rising, you help him during the rush, and you fly to the rescue when someone else needs help to make sure everyone can eat on time. You have enough attitude where the servers know not to push your buttons too much, you are a flame and he wishes to be burnt if it only means getting close to you.

Catering is a forsaken task that means a longer day. But suddenly, as people head home, it's only him and you in the kitchen. You both realize it's quiet, too quiet between you two. So he makes the first move and offers you a beer (or a non alcoholic drink for my pookies who can't), and as the night continues you start up a conversation and get closer to one another.

You peel the carrots, and he cuts them into an appropriate size. He starts retelling some of the stories that happened when he was still new to the job. And you laugh, god you laugh and he can't take his eyes off your smile as he hears your voice an- o h. Red seeps from his fingertip as he curses up a storm and wraps his finger in a kitchen cloth to avoid getting it over the food. You immediately drop everything and help him out with his cuts, and he makes a joke about you kissing it better. You do so after having bandaged it up properly so you can continue your prep, kissing the cloth of the bandage with a teasing/snarky remark.

Much later on he hides in the restroom, his heart beating widely as he can only feel like a high school boy getting his first crush all over again. He didn't think this type of small action could pull him so deep, him, Hobie Brown, a master chef who runs his kitchen like its war battalion. He holds up his hand to his heart, eventually heading back out as he finally calms down. But he looks at how unbothered you are by your small task, just peeling away and helping him with prep to make sure everything can get done on time. He promises himself mentally to pay you back, maybe a date would be nice or maybe he could make a new menu item for you, something sweet. Something with honey, fruit, and whisky; sweet, decadent, and strong are all things he sees in you.

-insert grave emoji here, I'm on a computer </3 me phone died

AWJSJSJWNZSBNWOWSB I KNEW YOU'D WRITE SOMETHING LIKE ONE OF THEM GETTING NICKED AND I NEVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE HOBIE!! He's so smitten your honour

Imagine if R gets burned during dinner service, nothing too drastic just burned the tip of your finger but it still hurts like a bitch so you yelp and the loud clang of the pan hits the stove like a drum beat and Hobie is in full panic mode at your pained face. But when one of the chefs tells you to suck it up Hobie (think like hell's kitchen) yells at them to fuck off before you could even say a word and you're in front of the sink while he holds your hands under the running water asking if you're okay and your brain just went bye bye for a minute while he soothes you 😍

[loislane41319]

The way you are.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Wordcount: 2064

Summary: You joined intelligence three months ago as their tech consultant. You've had a crush on Jay since the moment you met and so has he, you just haven't told each other. But, that just might chance when you decide to get a new look.

Warnings: None. I haven't been kind to Adam though...

Note: First and foremost: one of my best friends has helped my out with the plot, so big thanks to her! The story hasn't turned out exactly as I had planned, but I am satisfied with the result. Let me know if you have any feedback!

Also, the reader has glasses, just because main characters usually don't and it fit the story really well. And finally, I've gotten some inspiration from Morgan and Garcia from Criminal Minds, for those like to know.

Story:

Your heart was pounding as you walked towards your desk in the bullpen. You had started working with the intelligence unit in Chicago just three months ago and you loved it. It felt great knowing you helped put criminals behind bars, even though you did it from behind a computer. Your new colleagues had become your family. Kevin had become the brother you always wanted, Hailey and Kim had become two of your best friends and you had even grown fond of Adam, though his flirting sometimes got close to crossing the line. And then there was Jay. It had taken you less than a week to develop a major crush on the tall, muscular soldier, and who could blame you? The man looked like a dream and had a brain like very few others. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure your feelings weren’t reciprocated. Jay had barely looked at you since you started working in intelligence, let alone talked to you. It hurt and no matter how hard you tried to push away your feelings, they just kept popping up. You had tried to talk to Jay, but it was hard, taking the first step, when the object of you affection seemed to want nothing to do with you. On top of that you had never really been a people person, so you decided to just let it be.

Over the last two months you had seen a small part of the man behind the ocean green eyes and the smooth, freckled skin. You noticed how he interacted with his colleagues in the unit, how he tried to make them laugh when he could, tried to protect them if he needed to and cared about them like they were his brothers and sisters. During the nights you accompanied the unit to Molly’s, you noticed the way he treated the first responders he had crossed paths with and people he had never met with the same care and kindness he treated his closest friends. You just wished he would care about you that way.

The only people in the unit who suspected you of having feelings towards the green eyed detective were Kim and Hailey, but you hadn’t admitted anything to them.

There was one person you had admitted it to though. Your sister was one of those people who got overly exited about everything and when you told her you had a crush on one of your colleagues, she looked like she was about to burst out of her skin. You, of course, tried to calm her down by telling her nothing was ever going to happen between you and Jay, but the damage had already been done. If you had let her, your sister would’ve already started planning your and Jay’s wedding, but at that point you had reached your limit and threatened to leave if she didn’t calm down. The rest of the night, the two of you talked about everything but Jay and it was great. Though your sister wouldn’t be herself if, right before you left, she hadn’t offered you give you a fresh, new look to see if that could possibly attract Jay’s attention. Because, while she could be a lot at times, she deeply cared about you and from what you had told her, you deserved someone as good as Jay by your side.

A week ago you had decided you were done pining over Jay, since all it had brought you so far was pain and so, for the past week, you had ignored him, only talking to him if you had to. You needed a fresh start, so you had taken up your sister on her offer to give you a make over, or, in her words, a fresh, new look. That was the reason that your palms were sweating and your heart was trying to hack its way out of your chest. You had exchanged your usual jeans and flannel for an olive green power suit. You wore your hair down instead of in its usual pony tail and even the pair of rose gold glasses you had worn for years had been replaced by a set of contact lenses.

You couldn’t believe you had given your sister permission to do this. The fabric of the power suit itched, your lenses wouldn’t stay in place and the whole outfit made you feel like a pumpkin in a field of spinach. You couldn’t wait to get home and change.

“Hey, Y/N, you look great!” Hailey said. You mumbled a thanks. Kevin whistled and Adam couldn’t help himself: “Ooh, Y/N, looking smoking!” If they hadn’t noticed you were blushing before, they damn sure would now. You felt like your skin was about to melt off your cheeks. You thanked your colleagues for their complements and hid behind your desk in your pile of paperwork as fast as you could.

That morning a new case had come up. The body of a teenager had been found at a waste disposal site. It had become your job to dig into his online world to see if it had anything to do with the reason he had ended up dead. You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help relating to the victim more and more as you learned more about him. He was a loner in High School, you had been one years ago. He was more comfortable in his online world than his real one, like you. He was a hacker, so were you. At some point, it felt like you were becoming friends with him, even though you would never actually meet him.

A few hours later sergeant Voight came out of his office. “What do we have?” He asked no one and everyone at once. As your colleagues started rambling about everything they’d found, you just stared at the picture on the board. What if that had been you? What if, one day, you hadn’t come home, only for the cops to call your parents and tell them your body had been found? You felt nauseous just thinking about it, though focusing your mind on something that wasn’t yourself or your new look was kind of comforting. You had been on edge all morning because of it and you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to reach your limit.

Suddenly something Jay said, pulled you back to the conversation in front of you. “Why are cases involving hackers always so difficult?” He asked Hailey. “What do you mean?” The blonde asked in return. “Well, normal kids talk to each other. You just have to talk to their friends to get a bunch of leads. Hackers, like this guy, hide everything, so we have to waste a bunch of time looking for leads, before we can actually start investigating.”

The sound of your desk chair hitting the wall got five heads turning your way. You didn’t pay any attention to them and just left.

Jay’s words kept bouncing around in your skull as the tears that had been building up inside you finally found their way to the surface. You walked into the locker room as fast as you could. You made sure the door closed behind you before walking to your locker and taking the little box and bottle of solution for your contacts out.

A few minutes later you heard the door of the locker room opening. Not now, you thought. You were seated on one of the benches, one contact in the box, the other in your eye. Your cheeks were still wet from your tears and you didn’t doubt you had mascara streaks under your eyes. Needless to say, you didn’t exactly look very charming.

Part of you expected it to be either Kim or Hailey, but when you noticed the boots the person was wearing, it became clear it was neither. You looked up. Right into the eyes of the last person you expected to see. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your gaze returning to the stuff in front of you. “I came to check on you. You just flew out of the bullpen faster than Usain Bolt on one of his best days. What happened?” Jay asked as he sat down next to you. “Nothing, I’m fine, you go and… Why won’t these stupid contacts stay in their place?” You groaned. “Take them out.” Jay said, a soft smile on his face. You did as he said. He stood up and walked over to your locker. Returning with the case that contained your glasses, only you couldn’t see that, having taken out your contacts and put them in the box. Jay carefully placed your metal framed glasses on your nose and handed you a tissue. “There she is. Now, what’s gotten you so upset?” Jay asked. You slightly adjusted your glasses and wiped the tear- and mascara streaks off your face. You took a deep breath and let out everything you’d kept from him for the last two months. “Honestly? You are. You’ve barely said a word to me since I started working here and that sucks because you’re also the guy I’ve had a crush on for two months, but obviously you don’t want anything to do with me, so I figured I should get over it so I let my sister give me a new look, but I’ve never worn anything this itchy, these contacts suck and my hair won’t get out of my face. And on top of that what you just said about hackers isn’t true. We are normal, we have friends and once you get to know one of us, our hiding places become obvious.” You were out of breath when you stopped talking, scared to look into Jay’s beautiful green eyes. “I am so sorry. You’re right, I didn’t mean it that way. Calling them “normal kids” was a bad choice of words and I’m sure hackers have friends too. But you know I wasn’t talking about you right? I was talking about the kid whose murder we’re investigating. You’re not him.” Jay told you. “I know, I just used to be a lot like him in High School, but I guess, for me, that’s a long time ago and I’m not that little girl anymore.” You said, realising you may have overreacted a bit. “Yeah, and you’re still here. He’s not. And as for why I didn’t really talk to you, I’ve had a crush on you from the moment you walked into the bullpen. I just got terrified I’d screw things up if I opened my mouth, so I tried to show you how I felt by getting you coffee or cleaning your desk. Hell, I’ve been doing the cleaning lady’s job for her for the past three months.” Jay confessed. Suddenly a bunch of puzzle pieces fell into place. You had found a hot cup of coffee on your desk everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, but somehow never wondered who put it there. You had even noticed your workspace sometimes looked cleaner than the others, but you just figured the cleaning lady started with your desk and therefore had less energy when she reached the others.

Jay’s voice was still bouncing around your skull, only now saying the words: I’ve had a crush on you. You couldn’t think rationally anymore so you did the only thing you could think of. You kissed him. As your hands found their way into his hair, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You pulled back when you heard the bottle of contact solution fall on the ground. Jay let go of you and picked it up. You felt a shiver run down your spine. Had it been this cold this entire time? Jay looked at you and then noticed your jacket. It was discarded on the ground in front of your locker. He stood up and seconds later you felt a piece of fabric covering your shoulders. It was a flannel. It was his flannel. He sat back in front of you and cupped your face, looking into your eyes. “And Y/N, while you did look incredibly hot in that power suit, you look just as good in jeans and even in a garbage bag for all I care. You are beautiful, just the way you are.”

[oleander-nin]

Writing advice(hopefully)

I TAKE EVERYTHING BACK I SAID I DO HAVE A METHOD TO WRITING. I JUST DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS A METHOD BECAUSE I'VE DONE IT FOR SO LONG.

advice under cut

Before you write something, flesh the ENTIRE thing out. I don't mean like kinda do a couple word summary, I mean write the basics before you write how the basics go together. You want to write about a picnic? Flesh out things they might say during it, what their bringing, who's making the food, etc etc.

Examples from my own writing doc for my most recent posted fic->

As you can see, it's long, and tells me most of what I need. It's also not organized, and many things are misspelled or grammatically incorrect. This is because my main goal was to get a basic plan out, not to make it look pretty. I also had three slightly different ideas I could go with before deciding on which I wanted. The more you have down, the easier it will be. I also color code mine, but that's not necessary, it's just ease of use. I can explain my color coding if needed, but I won't until asked.

2. Write in chunks. Do you have that really specific scenario already planned out? Write it first. You can make the rest around it, but once you get at least that small bit out, the rest can come naturally.

3. Keep yourself occupied. I get bored easily if I'm just writing, so I have to be doing other things at the same time. Just make sure it's something simple so you don't get distracted. I personally use my cat as to keep my stimulated(?) enough to continue. You could mimic something like this by putting on music/shows in the background, or writing multiple fics at once.

4. Don't force yourself if you can. I know I said I do earlier, but that was mostly a joke. I write to deal with stress, so writing in itself calms me down. It's difficult to do something if I'm not perfectly in tune with it. If a request is proving to be difficult, or an idea isn't doin what you want, change it up a bit until it fits into the puzzle better. You'd rather have a changed fic than no fic.

5. Use prompt generators for ideas if you're stuck. I personally have a big tin of cookie fortunes and verbs/nouns so I pick two up and create a story around that. It helps get your brain going. And you can keep doing this until something sparks.

6. Stay as focused as you can. Close other tabs, keep your eyes on your writing, stuff like that. I know this may seem to conflict with the 'keeping yourself occupied' one, but you really have to find the right balance for you. For example, I can't have music playing, but I CAN talk to other people while I write. Play around until you find your zone.

7. Try not to edit as you go. It's okay to fix a word or two as needed, but once something takes over 5 minutes to fix, you should skip it and move on. Your main goal should be able to get it all down so you have something to edit eventually.

8. If you forget a word, don't dwell on it too much. Just put something as a safeholder(ie: Elephant, Jumanji, etc), highlight it, and move on. You can shoot a friend a text to help find the word, but don't stress if nothing matches what you're thinking of. You can figure it out after, or find a new word.

9. If you get stuck while writing, go back about three to five sentences and read it over. See if you can continue going, or find what you need to change. It doesn't have to be a huge change, it just has to be enough to get you going again. And if you can't figure it out? Skip it and write the rest and figure out the transition later.

10. Use references throughout you're writing. Whether it's on the world, injuries, dialogue, emotion portrayal, or anything in between, do research and find references. It can help make connections in your brain as well as make it easier to write. For many fanfics, if you look up the fandom's wiki, their personalities will be included in their character's article.

I think that's it for now, I might add more later. I really hope this make an inkling of sense, I got frustrated after Tumblr deleted half of what I wrote the first time around. Apologies for the rambles, I am neither good with words, neither with explaining myself in a coherent manner. If anyone needs/wants extra clarification, don't be shy to ask. And my sincerest apologies for not saying this in a reblog @itsyagurlchip, but it was starting to get long and I hate how you can't collapse reblogs so I put it here. If you need me to, I can copypaste and put it as a reblog.

[kochi999]

I always draw only Arcade porn, but today I really thought about "why I like Arcade" and drew it seriously.

Below is the monstrosity I drew on pixiv. I haven't scrutinized the document after the English translation, so it's probably weird.

　My shit-decker feelings (mainly inferiority complex) for Dr. Arcade have finally calmed down after about 10 months of falling for him, so here's one thing I'd like to summarize (give birth to) why I can't help but have such a fussy heart for this guy. I guess the screen turns red when I put my feelings into it. I know it's not popular to capture long sentences nowadays, but it's the last time I'm drawing, so forgive me, I don't have anywhere else to put it.

　I've tried to put all the elements of why I like this guy so much into this one picture, but the part that people who don't know me won't get from the picture and the part that made me fall for that point in the first place is that this guy is officially gay. The other deciding factor that drove me crazy was the fact that there is an ending where he commits suicide by circumcision for the sake of his own pride.

　This guy, who had been running away from the secret of his origins, who was worried and lost, who couldn't tell anyone about the secret of his life, who couldn't make up his mind in that ephemeral world, who had been moping and sulking until he was 35 years old, makes a decision based on the words of a random courier (the main character) and chooses to live while helping others with his special skills, He can either choose to live for his father's redemption, or he can choose neither and be enslaved until he commits suicide. How can you come up with such a setting? The game is so full of elements that mess with our emotions that I can't help but project myself onto the brain-destroyed (physical) courier and the brain-destroyed (metaphorical) me.

↓I can't help but project myself onto him. 　Why is Arcades set up as gay? It's just a setting that has nothing to do with the story. It is really a mystery. Why did they set him up that way? Is it because he doesn't know his father's face and is a fatherfucker? It's a wise decision. Thanks to you, a lot of nerdy women have been swamped. The fact that a man of such a serious character and nature was naturally homosex active drives me crazy again. There is also the mysterious statement that he had a few boyfriends in the past, but that doesn't play into the main story at all. Are you saying that I couldn't even confide my origins to my boyfriends? I wouldn't mind having a boyfriend who confided in a past man about his origins…and then they finally broke up because they couldn't share their life together, but he never revealed the secret of his origins to anyone…that would be fine. I'm a big fan.

　Please, give me an Arcadian ex-career selection setting. What kind of guy she was dating and at what age, and if possible, her favorite position, etc. No, that's too much to ask. I'll have dinner with that. I'm ready to eat. I'll cook a pot of rice for now. Give me that. Give me a piece of Arcadian life. I don't care if it's too late. Give it to me. Hey. If, at the height of the drama, there are now statements like, "Actually, Nate, the fourth master, was in that movie," then why not have a leak that says, "Actually, that was Arcade's ex-boyfriend," or "Actually, that man at Navarro base is Arcade's father. Give it to me. I'm sure you have some secret settings that you can't reveal to the public anyway. Give it to me. Give it to me in a fanzine. Please. I don't care if it's a fabrication by a fan, please give me a doujinshi of Arcades' ex-boyfriend…someone please draw me a doujinshi…I'll do anything…tumbler prohibits sexually explicit pictures, so if you can, please draw me a sexually explicit picture on pixiv. I don't care if it's a cartoon. I have two new friends on pixiv recently. Thank you I love you and I won't miss you.

[lawliet-ryuzaki-ryuga]

Chapter 7 ( L X Reader)

ANALYZER

WC: 1061

MASTERLIST

-Chapter 6

A/N: AHHHH IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER TO UPDATE!!!! I HAD SO MUCH GOING ON IN MY LIFE, TO HAVING WRITTERS BLOCK FOR THIS STORY TO HAVING TO WATCH DEATH NOTE A BILLION TIMES AGAIN TO GET NEW IDEAS! FORGIVE ME! i hope y'all enjoy and let me know what you guys think about this chapter!!!!

Though L had told me he was going to make more time in which we would be able to meet and just get to know one another, but given the situation that we are in, time isn’t in our favor. I’ve been watching the 24/7 surveillance footage we have on yotsoba meetings. I have grown tired of hearing plan after plan, after plan.  The Only real interaction or meet was when we would go eat. 

“Mmm i think i like the creme brulee cheesecake over your black forest cake.” I mumble as i take another bite of my slice of cake. L on the other hand is just taking chunks out of every slice in front of him. 

“ I just enjoy the taste of sugar.” L mumbles with his mouth full.

“ The point of trying cakes is to taste the flavors.”

“ I like sugar.”

“ you said that already.” 

“ Then let us discuss something you haven’t heard before Y/N/N. Tell me, how do you think Kira kills? given how much you’ve watched these recordings, i trust that you would be able to come up with a conclusion.`` L leads the conversation. 

“ Ryuzaki we said nothing about the case.”

“My apologies, I can’t help but think about anything else.” L rubs his pointer and thumb together as he rolls around the sugar sprinkles, before sucking the sugar off his fingers.

“ Fine, during the meetings theres a lot of numbers, days and ways on how one might be killed or die. There can be a few options all of which cannot be described without some type of supernatural power. One being they, Kira, speaks it into existence.. But that would require some type of God who can do such things. The Other thing is writing it down. Now this one more specifically is what caught my attention. During all the meetings, everyone had a notebook and a pen in front of them but none were used. Except for one, Higuchi . He fiddles with a pen often, and his pen is the only one that’s different from the rest. Indicating it's personal, and this item alone holds some time of significant use to him. Fiddling with the pen can express confidence or the depiction of some type of power.. But again, if he is writing it down, then how do the deaths occur? Unless something of supernatural power is in charge.” I explain before picking up a cheesecake slice and taking a small cut from the end of the slice.

“ Are you saying something of a shinigami? I have to say I’ll be disappointed, as they are nothing but some folklore.”  L sighs before staring up at me with his gray orbs. 

“ Folklore might sound crazy, but the human brain is not capable of creating or making up things, unless it was seen before. As a result I would not knock the idea, and based on how both Light and Misa reacted when they were confined was like they were no longer under some trance, dare I say even under a control of a spirit or being. Their body language in itself changed drastically, more so with light based on the footage. During his confinement I was able to see small lip movements that read “ Get rid of it.” It was moments after that when his body language changed from annoyance.. To confusion. Light’s body language is never abrupt, always calm..Light likes to articulate his movements and his responses to things. So that quick change in demeanor is what concerns me..”

“And you think that the new Kira is now Higuchi.” L states with a firmness to his voice.  

“ If I have to put my bet, I’d say it was him and Namikawa is the one who calls the shots before Higuchi does anything.”

“ I see.. But there were two kiras at one point.. Do you think that the second kira could be Namikawa Y/N/N?”

“I believe that at this very moment there’s only one Kira, which makes my theory of writing in something like a book stronger. When Light said “ get rid of it” what does “ it” refer to if not an object . As a result, if we are talking about let’s say some book, then at this very moment the second book hasn’t been possessed or hasn't possessed a person yet.. If Namikawa were the second kira, I don't believe he would be giving Higuchi some type of approval/ or direction of what to do, he would just do it himself.”

“ I agree, I just don’t see how believing in some type of power in an object or being is gonna help us solve the case. If the way of killing can be transmitted between person to person, whether it be through a book or by some type of spiritual possession, the catching of Kira would be impossible.” L argues back with reason as expected. 

“ Well it all depends, if we are looking for an object, then maybe the destruction of the object can end the killings. But if it is some type of possession of spirit that jumps from person to person. Then the goal is to look for the type of person the spirit is drawn to. But of course that would be a stretch and as you said, would probably be impossible to solve. But given that at one point Light was Kira, I find it hard to believe that someone who murdered so many people would have no recollection of any of it. Making it be that the person has control on if they can erase their memory and bring it back when needed. Which makes me think that Light could still be Kira without even knowing it anymore.."

“ Y/N/N, I have to say your reasoning on things goes beyond my reasoning. I only deal with the facts and the logical explanation of things. If it cannot be proven then it cannot be used as a fact to support evidence.  But you use evidence to create a fact, to make a logical explanation, which is interesting. But it might all be interesting to me, simply for the fact that I cannot believe in some type of supernatural power. But I will leave that to you.” L speaks in a monotone voice, not sounding too fond of my reasoning. 

“ I like the bigger picture, not the small details Ryuzaki.”

With a side glance L looks at me but returns to his cake, lifting his feet onto the chair and sitting in his weird position and finishes his cake, with not another word to me. His energy shifted from that of being open to that of being closed off. Was it my tone? No. It was that I’m challenging his logical way of thinking with a more elaborate explanation of what could be and not what is.