#it is a lot longer than I usually like but I'm really invested in this concept!

[weneedatdcharacterwho]

There's was an idea of a contestant who befriends all of the interns already, but I have another execution

We need a td character who somehow becomes friends with one of the interns. They start spend a lot of time together outside of challenges (possibly because they share some interests and maybe struggles with communication with others) and grow closer (it may work either platonic or romantic, I enjoy both variants but gotta admit that the idea of the romance between a contestant and an intern sounds more interesting to me). The contestant doesn't have any strong connections with any other contestants (they just being the friendly yet lonely one) because of it but they manages to go far because they just do a great job during challenges and often win immunity for their team or themself after the merge, so everyone just thinks they are a good player. But the truth is that the intern was secretly helping the contestant all this time without contestant's awarness of it

Bonus points if the contestant suddenly being eliminated by Chris because of "cheating" without specific explanation so everyone thinks that the contestant was playing dirty all along. And only the intern knows the truth and feels super guilty about it but too afraid to tell this to the contestant because they think it may ruin their relationships

Bonus bonus points if the contestant finds out about this whole thing and it causes a conflict between them and the intern and they go through the arc where they learn to trust each other again (and maybe trying to become more separated and find another friends they may rely on)

(btw, sorry if I send too many suggestions, I just have a lot of thoughts)

.

[charminglygrouped]

For the past several years (and perhaps longer) in the P&P fandom I've seen a lot of people who want to rehabilitate Mrs. Bennet: like, sure, she's uncouth and seems greedy, but it's because she cares so much about her daughters' futures; her situation is actually really stressful and uncertain and she's powerless to change it and her husband makes fun of her, and so it's natural that it would cause her to be anxious all the time; maybe she doesn't have the intelligence or social awareness to understand that her behaviour is actually harming her daughters' prospects, but at least her heart is in the right place.

I'm usually not the type of person who argues that fandom is actually being too nice to a female character, but in this case I don't buy the counter-narrative (which I think is popular enough at this point to be fanon / a narrative in itself) about Mrs. Bennet.

For one thing, she was never really powerless in this situation. These people are rich even for gentry. Mr. Bennet's income was always good, at 2,000 pounds per annum (even though I can't believe he isn't neglecting some practices that could raise it higher). Mrs. Bennet had 4,000 pounds from her parents and a further 1,000 from Mr. Bennet. Invested in the 4 per cents (for example), this is 200 pounds per year in pin money that Mrs. Bennet could spend without touching the principle of her dowry, and without affecting Mr. Bennet's income. This is more than some people's entire yearly incomes.

The picture of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet that we get in P&P is not of people who are helpless against their circumstances, but of people who are extraordinarily neglectful. We're told that:

Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived him. [...] When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their income.

We also know that the "continual presents in money which passed to [Lydia] through her mother’s hands," plus her allowance and food, amount to about 90 pounds per year. Rather than saving up from the beginning in case the entail is not broken, rather than beginning to save once it's clear a son will not arrive, rather than making Jane's dowry the full 5,000 from her mother (which would be something) and saving up for the younger girls' dowries thereafter—which is what would be typical, and that's why Lady Catherine was so shocked that all the girls were out at once—Mrs. Bennet's housekeeping, dress, the girls' allowance, presents of money over and above their allowance, plus whatever Mr. Bennet is spending money on (and other expenses relating to servants, carriages, maintenance &c. which are unavoidable), add up to their entire income. The only reason why Mrs. Bennet doesn't overspend even that is that that's where Mr. Bennet puts his foot down.

Mrs. Bennet is actively harming her daughters' prospects, not even of marriage, but of living respectably if they don't marry, because she doesn't have the temperance not to spend all of the income that is allotted to her. It is the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of the housekeeping, servants, cooking, furniture, and all expenses relating thereto (plus certain attentions to her tenants and any living in genteel poverty in the area, though presumably this will depend on her income and whether there's a parish church with a parson's wife who's doing some of these things). She's an adult who should be competent to manage these things in a reasoned way without needing to be dictated to.

It is supposed to be the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of her daughters' education—and yet Mrs. Bennet did not hire a governess, and Elizabeth says that she didn't spend much time teaching her daughters anything (it's not clear to what degree she's educated herself). Granted, the girls did have masters—but, from the sounds of things, that was only if they requested them. No one was required to learn much of anything, which will probably further harm the marriage prospects of the girls who "chose to be idle."

I think the "point" of Mrs. Bennet is that she is one half of one type of bad marriage which the novel illustrates, in contrast with the Gardiners' marriage. These marriages are two possible models for the Bennet daughters to look to. At one point, Elizabeth's prospective marriage is explicitly compared to her parents', with her in the role of her father: Mr. Bennet says "My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life" (emphasis original).

We might wonder whether Elizabeth saw herself potentially in the role of her father, in a marriage that was very intellectually unequal, when she rejected Mr. Collins; or whether she also saw herself in the role of her mother, married to a man who insults and doesn't respect her, when she rejected Mr. Darcy. Ultimately, she accepts Mr. Darcy after she realises that he is nothing like her father; that he is diligent in attending to his responsibilities, and that he does evidently respect her mind.

This isn't me defending Mr. Bennet, who is also a bad parent and a bad spouse. I do, however, find it a little disturbing when people suggest that Mr. Bennet is at fault for not controlling or curtailing his wife. His wife is a grown woman. Surely we don't actually believe that a situation where a man is legally in complete control over his wife, merely because he is a man and she is a woman, is in any way natural, moral, or just? (This also goes for people who suggest that Mr. Bingley needs to get his sister 'in line' 😬😬😬.)

Mrs. Bennet should be competent to manage her household and her daughters. Given that she's not, yes, Mr. Bennet, according to Georgian and Victorian ideas of the role of a man in a marriage, "should" have stepped in and started dictating to her. But I don't really think that's what Austen is suggesting went wrong here. The models of good marriages we have—the Gardiners, the Bingleys and Darcys after their weddings—are all ones in which the women were basically sensible people to begin with. In the latter two cases, we are told of particular ways in which the men stand to benefit from some mental quality of their future spouse (Elizabeth's good humour and ease in company; Jane's steadiness and determination).

The ideal which some Georgians had of a husband's role being to shape his wife's intellect doesn't seem to be what's being advocated here. If Mr. Bennet made a mistake, it was in marrying a silly, selfish, ill-tempered woman to begin with, not in failing to browbeat her into submission once he found out that she was silly, selfish, and ill-tempered. The idea is that you should choose your spouse carefully. But that message doesn't work if Mrs. Bennet is just a woman in a difficult situation who has her heart in the right place.

[teaboot]

I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow

Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.

I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.

This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods

And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.

Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?

Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.

Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.

Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it

...this went on longer than intended.

TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.

EDIT: Part 2

[deerspherestudios]

Some questions regarding Atom because I absolutely loved this game and I've been non-stop drawing this spaguetti alien...

Are there any other songs you thought of when creating Atom's personality or that you wanted to include a reference to in the game? (aside from Moon Waltz, but that one already fits perfectly).

When Atom said that one day they would like to go "swimming" with the MC, did they really meant float around space or also visit other planets? Places? Maybe their home planet?

(I'm also curious on what Atom meant when they said that "they've seen worse" than the worms)

Is Atom still going to use the suit or is there any other way for it to move around (human-like that is)?

Sorry if something is worded weirdly and for asking so many questions! I'm Spanish but I'm really invested in your games, thank you Cheea!

Waaa I'd love to see your Atom drawings if you're up to sharing them! I usually don't go for stacked questions (just because they take longer to respond to and it's difficult to organize) but these were really fun to answer so I'll put them under a read more! <3

1. Are there any other songs you thought of when creating Atom's personality or that you wanted to include a reference to in the game?

Not a reference per se,,, but if Atom had a playlist I would add Villains of Circumstance by Queens of the Stone Age! QOTSA's one of my husband's favorite bands for the past year so the amount of times I've listened to this in the car has been one too many /lh It's soft and slow and heavy and eurghhh;; I think about the line "I sing only for you" a lot,,, plus a few other lines but you guys can make the connections if you happen to have a listen! Otherwise I'm gonna go off on a tangent that's way too long haha:

2. When Atom said that one day they would like to go "swimming" with the MC, did they really meant float around space or also visit other planets? Places? Maybe their home planet?

Atom being Atom they meant it literally haha! There's nowhere else for them to be other than near you, and they like the idea of a romantic outing floating among the stars. They think it's a lovely activity to do together; like that Wall-E and EVE dancing in space scene. Very cute very wholesome. Plus they're more used to being outside than in. Of course with MC's phobia, it might take a while for them to agree,,,

3. What did they mean when they said they've seen worse?

They've taken over bigger ships than the Bidadari in their search for you. That's all I'll say!

4. Is Atom still going to use the suit or is there any other way for it to move around (human-like that is)?

Considering their characteristics, yes they're still using the suit. Currently, there's no other way for it to move around that could pass as human. The main reason they use the suit is because they didn't wanna scare you on sight. Besides, they're more comfortable with the suit (and they're fully aware you don't like it when they touch you directly, so the suit helps). In fact, they'd be happy to occupy two or more of them so you can have an army of Atoms at your beck and call!

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a really soft and cute au for Lesbian Janet that could work in any universe but I think works best in the Young Justice TV Show Universe.

See, everyone gets really confused when Tim talks about his Mom, sometimes referring to her as Mama. Tim thinks that using two different titles like that should make it Obvious that he has Two Moms but well. The Bats may be Super Geniuses but they are still Idiots. Tim is also an absolute Mama's Boy with Both his Moms. He loves them both So Much.

Oh, where is Jack you ask? He doesn't actually exist. He's the fake name and personality that Tim's Mama came up with and used Magic to disguise as so they could get Legally Married For Tax Benifits. Also to get his Mama a legal identity. Why would she need one of those? Well... as was mentioned, Tim's Mama has Magic with a Captial M. This by extension means Tim is Magic With A Capital M as well. Totally has nothing to do with Janet and his Mama sculpting him from clay and breathing life into him. Woes of pregnancy who? Not Janet that's for sure.

Also Tim does Not tell anyone that he has Magic and he doesn't show it off. The only reason the Bats found out about it is because Tim came to a meeting with Bruce and Diana went "you. Your Magic is Familure but I don't know from where." And Tim was sweating while saying, "Magic? What magic??" And after getting questioned by Diana and Bruce he Caves and tells them a half truth, "fine. I was made from Clay, like you. My Mom didn't want to go through the struggles of Childbirth but still wanted a child. Instead of adopting like any sane and rational person, she made a deal with a God or Godess. I don't know all the details but she owed them something in exchange for Me. I do know the debt has been paid already though."

The debt was simply a tea spoon of blood for the ritual and A Kiss. Janet over paid the second part by a lot.

As for how Janet met and wooed A Goddess? Well, she was on a dig in Greece when her boat she was using to get to another island was caught in a storm and washed up on a different island. The Goddess was expecting violence or anger at being stranded, perhaps even Sorrow. But no, Janet took one look at the Temple in the distance and was pushing past her saying she needed to get to the Temple because it's clearly in *amazing* condition and could bring So Many insights into Ancient Greek culture and building practice. For the first time in decades, as this Random Woman ran her hand along a pillar and started rambling about the design and what the type of collums were called, Circe felt herself blushing.

CIRCE?!?!?

FUCK YEAH.

Anyways, this is absolutely adorable. Fuck. I would love an entire fic of Janet. Here's a general plot line:

Janet hasn't ever really been interested in romance. She's tried dating a few guys in high school for appearance sake, but she usually broke the relationship off when they became too affectionate.

This is when others started referring to her as "cold." She wasn't, but few people got close enough to her to listen to her rambles about ancient civilizations, archeology, and sociality impacts of culture. She enjoyed other stuff, but nothing quite lit her up like those topics did.

In college, she did find and make a few friends with similar interests. This is where she figured out she was into women and not men. The relationships lasted longer, but she was single by the time she graduated with her bachelor's.

Her master's ends up as some sort of work study where she travels the world. She's more invested in her studies and work than relationships at this point. She enjoys learning about people's lives and cultures but doesn't seek out more than friendship.

I'm not sure if Janet has already or is working on her doctorate by the time she ends up lost on an island (or really how archeology even pays bills).

When she arrives on the island, there's a beautiful woman there as well. Janet notices this, but doesn't give a flying fuck in comparison to the architecture.

And Circe? Finds herself amused and confused by this woman who, although is into women, doesn't care about Circe's looks. Janet just keeps asking questions about Circe's life, the temple, the plants, the culture, etc. It becomes endearing watching her work late into the night with her research.

Janet is so enthralled in all that is going on that she doesn't notice Circe's continuous flirting. It's so fucking frustrating for Circe, but makes her unbearably fond as well. Janet starts to consider this drop dead gorgeous woman a close friend of hers as they "work" late into the chatting about ancient Greece, their past experiences, and their lives. Janet, who has some experience with romance but not much, even flirts back. After all, women call each other beautiful all the time and hold hands and shit. Surely Janet can platonically cuddle with her friend while Circe compares Janet's eyes to the night sky.

It's only when Janet is ready to leave that she realizes that she's willing to give up everything she's worked for, all of her findings and education, to have more time with Circe. Janet is in love with her best friend.

Also, Circe is able to get a fake ID as "Jack" due to magic and Janet's connections

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[some-stars]

i was about to reblog this post with some thoughts, and then reblogs got turned off so i will just put them here instead:

it's not that i disagree with any of the sentiment in this post--while i personally have been very lucky to get plenty of nice comments, it's definitely eerily quiet and sometimes weirdly hostile out there for most people, much more than it used to be. but i just don't think posts like this are effective, and honestly i don't think that "number of comments from strangers" is what's really missing. what people are missing is the community that fandom/fanfic used to have, and the way you get that is by making it. you gotta make fandom friends who are excited for your thoughts and your stories, and you gotta get excited about their stuff, and you gotta spend hours on discord and/or in the group chat bouncing ideas off each other and just, get invested in each other as fans and as writers. (and hopefully also as people you'll still be friends with a decade from now!)

like i'm never ever going to turn down a nice comment on ao3, it's always wonderful! when someone quotes the parts they liked best it absolutely makes my day! but what i need, what actually fuels me, is the attention and interest from the 2-5 people i actually write all my fics for, because they loved the idea and i know they can't wait to read it and will scream at me at length once they do. relationships are always going to motivate and reward you better than fans, and fortunately relationships are the one of those two things that you have some control over!

so how do you build those relationships? start by commenting on fics you love on ao3, and especially leave longer, detailed comments. follow the author and reblog their fics on tumblr and add some thoughts about why you loved them. if the author engages with you when you do either of those things, keep doing it. maybe they'll follow you back, and once you've had a few mutuals-type interactions on the dashboard try sending them a DM asking if they want to chat about [fandom/character/pairing]; maybe briefly mention an idea/WIP you have that you're looking to bounce around with someone. i know if you have social anxiety this all sounds like horrible cruel lies but i SWEAR, this approach has never once failed me.

and i know that this advice probably sounds like disingenuous bullshit coming from someone who usually gets a lot of comments. all i can say is that i've been writing fanfic for 25 years and until 2020, i hardly ever pulled the kind of numbers i do now, and i genuinely did not care because i always had at least a couple friends to talk to about my ideas and listen to their ideas and get excited together. build relationships that feed you with other fans/writers, it's so much more rewarding and reliable than hoping strangers will be nice to you.

(and i'm not saying they shouldn't be nice to you! people SHOULD comment more! OP is completely correct! but you can't hand over control of your emotions about a hobby you love to random strangers on the internet and just hope they'll do the right thing. that is not a recipe for happiness.)

(also all of the above is in regard to people not leaving comments. the issue of people leaving asshole comments criticizing your work or demanding more without even bothering to say something nice first is related but separate, and the way to deal with those people is to either publicly shame them or bitch about them in the group chat and delete their comments, depending on your energy levels.)

[yourmomxx]

Heyyy omg I saw you looking for criminal minds requests. Would it be possible to request something for derek morgan?? Maybe a protective derek where he's freaking out after hearing that reader is hurt (reader can be bau as well or just regular civillian, it's up to you) and ends up smothering her. Thankyouu so much 🥺💞

a/n: I totally could see Derek Morgan do this, honestly, this is so good. Anon, thank you for your request, I really hope you like how it turned out!

"Derek, seriously, I'm fine!"

"Uh-huh, sure. Tell that to the x-ray the doctor made of your double fractured ankle."

You tried really hard, you did, but at the end, couldn't resist the urge of rolling your eyes.

Derek - your dear, caring, passionate boyfriend, who you loved endlessly (most times) - had acted this way for the past few days. Four, to be exact, four and a half if one counted the day he spent in the hospital with you, not leaving your side even to get coffee.

It had been, a few days ago, that you had broken your ankle.

Fractured, twice.

It happened while you were coming down the stairs, you'd slipped on a patch of the sleek wood and tumbled down the remaining three quarters to the bottom.

It was the most stupid and idiotic way to break a bone, honestly, but it had happened to you either way.

You'd known Derek was out on a case, somewhere in Milwaukee, you honestly didn't remember all the town's names all that exactly, which is why you had satisfied yourself with only sending him a quick text after an ambulance had shuttled you to the nearest hospital.

The doctors had told you that you would be fine, just that they were pretty booked this time of year and your treatment could take longer than usual.

It's why you stayed the night.

When you had woken up the next day, mind still a bit foggy and ankle swollen and hurting more than it would any normal day, you had never expected to actually see your boyfriend earlier than that evening.

But you'd been wrong.

Because there he stood, Derek Morgan, in all his tight-henley, muscular glory, talking with one of the doctors who'd briefed you about your condition the day before, an invested look on his face, just a few feet outside your open hospital room door.

The clinical, white sheets rustled as you straigthened yourself up.

"Derek?" The soft call of his name made your boyfriend look up, just as the doctor stepped away.

A smile played around his lips as he made his way over to you. You were still baffled about his showing-up, when he leaned down and pressed a greeting kiss to your mouth.

"Hey, sweet thing," Derek mumbled.

With a grunt, he sat down in the worn-out, yellow cushion chair and regarded you with deep concern in his dark eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

You tilted your head.

"Like I fell down the stairs and double-broke my ankle not even twelve hours ago."

Derek's mouth left a soft chuckle. You grinned.

"What are you even doing here, I thought you had a case?"

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. "Whoah, now don't be too excited." There was no bite behind his words, or the eyeroll you gave him in response.

"I'm serious, baby," You said. "You didn't have to be here, I'm totally fine."

Derek leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His gaze didn't leave yours.

"We closed the case about two hours after you sent me that text," He explained. "When I read what happened, I pushed everyone to pack their things just a bit faster than normal, we took the jet, and now I'm here." He opened his arms. "End of story."

You cocked an eyebrow. "How much faster?" You asked.

Derek weighed his head. "A lot faster."

You let out a laugh. "God, you are crazy," You breathed out, cheeks pushing your eyes closed with how wide you were smiling.

Derek reached out and took your hand into his, the warm weight laying comfortable in your palm.

"Only for you, mama."

His hand squeezed yours and you smiled.

Turns out that hospitals were the. worst.

At first the willingness with which all staff was tending you with, it felt like a blessing, for once not having to do the most mundane tasks by yourself - because honestly, who wouldn't want that? - but as time passed by, it all seemed to weigh down on you.

You were practically chained to a bed that wasn't yours, and therefore in no possibility as comfortable as the mattress you were used to. The clinical smell of sanitizer started burning in your nostrils, and your eyes felt blinded by the exact same shade of white that covered every wall, surface, and sheet in your sight.

You almost groaned when a white cast was put on your leg to stabilize it. Derek had just grinned at you and promised to bring Penelope over at some point, with a set of acrylics, glue, and rhinestones.

That's when it had started. The Doctor had told you to rest up for a while, don't put too much weight on your left foot where you had broken your ankle, and come in for regular check-ups.

You should've known then, that you were doomed. Because since you had left the hospital that afternoon four - three and a half - days ago, Derek had not once thought about leaving your side.

For anything.

Any. Thing.

He was being so sweet with it, of course, because Derek Morgan didn't know to be anything else, but over time, having this constant worry hung at you for tasks that should have been the simplest of everyday life was draining, and made you grow agitated.

If you needed to compare it, it felt like being sixteen and your parents checking in on you while you were at a friend's birthday party every hour on the clock, all over again.

You were standing in the kitchen right now, spatula in one hand, the other perched warningly at your hip, a pan on the stove ready to be heated up and a disapproving look on your face, staring down Derek Morgan who stood accross from you with his arms crossed and an almost stronger "Don't try me"-attitude than you had.

Almost.

"Baby," You said, slowly dragging out each syllable. "I understand and do appreciate your concern, but I am fully able to cook lunch."

"The doctor said not to put too much pressure on your foot," Derek shot back. He gestured towards the kitchen island. "Scurrying around for at least half an hour without a break is what I call 'too much pressure'."

The only pressure you were feeling right now was the exasperated groan that you fought back of pushing out your chest.

"I feel alright," You reassured him. "And if I really feel like it's too much, then I'll sit down and take a break."

Derek shook his head. "Will you, though?"

You sighed and put the spatula in an empty space on the kitchen island.

As smoothly as you could, you walked over to your boyfriend, supporting the weight on your unmoving leg by leaning your hand on the kitchenette, as you had discarded your crutch on the other side of the room.

Derek raised his eyebrow at that.

Finally reaching your boyfriend, you put your unoccupied hand on his cheek and let your thumb softly stroke over the stubbled skin.

Derek ever so slightly leaned into the touch.

"I'm just worried 'bout you," Derek murmured quietly.

You nodded slowly. "I know."

You did. And you understood. With all the death and hurt he saw, day by day, night after night, how could he not be?

"But baby, you gotta believe me when I tell you that I can take care of myself. That I know my limits." You gestured around vaguely. "That I can cook lunch for myself and my beautiful, kind boyfriend."

A hushed laugh escaped Derek's chest. His dark eyes found yours and the glimmer in them softened, turned a whirl of worry into a smooth tide.

"You just gotta watch out for you," Derek said. "I know you like to push yourself, don't like admitting defeat."

His hand came to rest on your forearm of the hand that was still tenderly lingering on his cheek. The soft tickle of his thumb drawing absentminded circles seeped through the thin layer of your clothing.

"But taking breaks is okay. There's a difference between being weak and just taking care of yourself."

Derek dipped his knees slightly when he noticed your gaze flashing to the floor, to catch your attention again.

"And I have never, not once in the time I've known you, known you to be weak. Alright, sweetheart?"

The warmth was radiating off his strong body, and infiltrating every single one of your concious senses. Unaware you were doing it, you leaned closer to him. The breeze of his cologne wrapped around you in pure comfort.

"Alright," You said. "Alright, I promise I'll take care."

Derek held your gaze. His fingers pushed a loose strand of hair away from your forehead. "That's all I wanted to hear."

The quick peck you pulled him in for by the neck quickly turned into an open-mouthed kiss, Derek's tongue circling yours for the briefest of moments, before finally gaining dominance.

You attempted to press further into him, but your hard time keeping balance wouldn't allow it.

He pressed one last, small kiss to your nose before backing away.

You smiled at him cheekily, still supporting yourself on the cold stone of the kitchenette, and laboriously turning around to finally get to make the food you'd fought so hard to be able to cook.

"At least let me work the stove."

"Derek!"

[simplynims]

David Shaw Headcanons

Some David headcanons I wanted to share alongside a few minor Angel ones, enjoy!

Davids dad used to bake Davids favorite cake for his birthdays when he was still alive. After his death it's hard for David to enjoy his birthday because it reminds him of the loss. When David and Angel got together, Angel despite being god awful at baking or cooking in general, still went out of their way to make him a cake for his birthday. The cake was borderline inedible but the whole gesture was something that David really appreciated.

Definitely a personal headcanon of how he looks like but I see him with more longer thicker hair, his dad had similar hair while his mom in the photos and videos he has of her has shorter hair. If he were to ever cut his hair shorter, I'm sure he'd definitely look more like his mom.

I can see him having a personal journal to write in, especially around the time his dad passed. He wasn't able to grieve properly due to his position as being the new alpha so he turned to writing his thoughts down instead. It was easier with a private journal and in a way it helped ground him enough to get through the week. David doesn't write much in his journals nowadays due to finally being able to properly grieve and Angel being a major part of his support system. But, he does occasionally look back on those journal entries to see how far he's truly come.

David is very much a well groomed person and takes care of his hair very well. Conditions that motherfucker almost every day and shampoos it every 3-4 days thoroughly. It's just part of his routine that he sticks to.

Really doesn't like energy drinks in general but absolutely is a coffee addict.

Has matching Minecraft skins on Minecraft with Angel whenever they play together.

Angel managed to convince him to watch a few Aphmau videos with them specifically the Pheonix Drop series and he lowkey was invested in Garroth as a character. Angel teased David that he was like Aaron in the series and now David doesn't like him anymore. (He doesn't hate Aaron, it's definitely more lighthearted than he lets on but he'd rather let Asher cook dinner any day than admit that to Angel.)

David is strangely really good at tic tac toe, he always manages to win and believe me when I say his friends have TRIED to beat him at the game with little to no success.

Makes it a point to try and cook with Angel at least once per week, quality time is apart of his love language and he treasures every moment with them.

David usually keeps his hair up in a ponytail but has let Angel stylize it before when they're just relaxing.

During the Quinn situation, David was definitely on high alert with the safety of his mate. He knows Quinn isn't stupid enough to try but knowing Angel could've gotten hurt like Darlin's friend who got attacked just by associating with them shook him to his core. I don't think he'd ever forgive himself if something did happen to them and he wasn't there to protect them.

Davids dad was a really good cook and made a lot of his own recipes, he always wrote them down on note cards which David has saved and kept safe in a tiny wooden box in the kitchen. When David misses his dad, especially around the anniversary of his death, he gets out one of those recipes and cooks it. It's nostalgic for him and eases some of that grief that still lingers.

David really hates the cold so when winter hits, Angel is his personal space heater throughout those frosty months. Though, he does like spooking Angel a lil bit with how cold his hands can get. He put his hands under their shirt one time when his hands were particularly cold and they nearly jumped.

Angel gives David playful love bites and David loves recieving and giving them.

David has trained his body to wake up 10 minutes before his actual alarm goes off in the morning so he can cuddle Angel longer.

Dark chocolate is his favorite, it's not too sweet and has more health benefits compared to regular chocolate.

[gffa]

I have been Processing My Feelings mostly through sleeping a lot (thanks, shark week), cleaning (so much stuff to be done, especially when you're on a budget so everything takes twice as much work), playing Pokemon Go (I SAW AN ARTICUNO, but it fled on me ): but that's okay, I know it only has like a 3% chance to get it, and if I saw one, maybe I'll see another sometime), and binging TV shows/YouTube videos. TV SHOWS THAT I HAVE HAD THOUGHTS ON: - FROM, season 3: I think it might have been a mistake to watch it week to week, because I've watched seven episodes now and it feels like hardly anything has happened this season, like, you only have ten episodes and the wait between seasons is so long! Get back to moving the plot forward! But a lot of people said the same thing about s2 and I found that one to move along great--but I binged the whole thing, so the pacing probably seemed better. I'm still invested, some emotional stuff has happened this season, but I want more answers/plot already!!!! - SHRINKING, season 2: Just as much of a comfort watch as the first season, still pulling a bunch of laughs out of me. The cast is incredible, the writing is funny (I'm a sucker for a Bill Lawrence show, though), and I have had genuine emotional reactions to some of the storylines this season, because I have come to care about the characters. It can be a light watch most of the time, one to put on when I want something to laugh at, but it can pack a punch in the way it needs to. - ENGLISH TEACHER: I think every episode got me to laugh at least once, most of them got me to laugh out loud multiple times. Some people are going to find it kind of preachy or tryhard, but I felt like it was trying to take an honest look at this one person's attempts to navigate the difficult societal elements at play (being gay in your 30s, no longer a kid, not a boomer, but not always seeing eye-to-eye with where the younger generation is, wanting to do the right thing versus not always knowing what that is, trying to be empathetic while being genuine, etc.), and if nothing else it got me with the sideswipe at Tumblr. That hurt, you guys, but also LOL. - 9-1-1, season 8: Still very much worth watching (especially every time Eddie is a hot mess and kind of a bitch, I've never loved him more), but I did not enjoy the Councilwoman Ortiz storyline (it felt more mean-spirited than I wanted) and I'm not looking forward to catching up on this week's episode (I've heard some of what happens), but overall, it's still a comfort place for batshit storylines. BEENADO WAS HILARIOUS, everything about Athena on the plane was fun (and less frustrating than her usual cop storylines, I love you, girl, but oh my god), and I even liked the Gerrard storyline by the end. Next to catch up on: Abbot Elementary, binge Squid Game s2 when it comes out, and finally watch The Devil Judge. (Watch, I'll have my schedule all planned out and then probably throw it out the window for Grotesquerie or something, SIGH.) Any other suggestions for comfort shows or just really bingeable recent shows or just tell me what you're watching, so that I can keep my brain off the doomscrolling track!

[nightwonder7]

I run an IDV x reader writing blog and I wanted to ask, since you're someone I look up to, for tips regarding portraying the characters.

Oh gosh, I'm really flattered! ;A; It truly means a lot to hear that! O////////O I try my best to learn about the characters and their lore and use that to portray them in my work to the best of my ability. Of course, I'm by no means perfect, and I'm probably wrong about some things. I'll slip in my own interpretation and headcanons every now and then. Even exaggerate for comedic effect.

But enough rambling, onto the question! The best tip I can really give is to read up on lore; everything from B-day letters to deductions to diaries to trailers to descriptions on skins, accessories and stories; every piece of information gives a bit of insight to a character, and together they can create a picture (albeit not always complete. That's where headcanons and theories come in to fill in the blanks). I find even events can tell a bit more about a character. Just soak it all up. The Wiki has been my best friend in learning IDV lore, even though I've heard it might not have all the info there is, but you can come a long way with it.

Analyses and theories people put out can also give great insight and provide different points of view. They have been really helpful for me in learning more about the characters, especially with trailers since I find them to be a little too poetic for me to understand sometimes ghfjdskgfds it's also good if you have someone to discuss these matters with.

Of course, the more invested you are in a character, the easier it is to learn about them. It is totally okay to stick with only a very few you like; the most important thing is that you're having fun! And you can always ask friends who are invested in other characters to help you out writing those. From my experience, they're usually happy to talk about their blorbos. Combined we are experts XD

And once you've gathered information, use it to answer questions like "What would they do in such and such situation?", "Do they prefer X, Y or Z?", "How would they interact with this character under these circumstances?" etc etc. Depending on what you're writing. Often times for me, however, my brain just comes up with scenarios by itself fdshjfgdsj

Gosh, this got a lot longer than I expected pfff But yeah, this is how I go about portraying characters; read about them and then apply what I've learned. I hope this helps! And like I said, the most important thing is to have fun with it, so don't worry about not writing a character perfectly. Every interpretation is different, and that's totally fine!

[vodika-vibes]

Different Worlds - Part 1

Story Summary:  A chance meeting between you and a man you had no right ever meeting might change the face of Mandalore forever. Of course, you have to survive first.

Chapter Summary: As one of the few traditional blacksmiths who live in Sundari, it's not unusual for you to work long days and even longer nights. There is honor in your position, even though you can't forge the traditional tools of your people without being arrested. A long night turns even longer when you're "invited" to a one-on-one meeting with Duchess Satine.

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Word count: 2038

Warnings: I have opinions about the New Mandalorians and none of them are good. Just, FYI.

A/N: So this is a self-indulgent project that I'm slowly working on, that's going to involve a lot of Mandalorian characters, including Boba Fett, Bo-Katan Kryze, and Satine Kryze. It's also solidly an AU. I won't be tagging anyone in this, because it is going to be very different than my usual stuff. Well, unless you specifically ask. This story will be posted under my Mandalorian masterlist, with it's own masterlist.

Clang

Clang

Clang

There’s something peaceful about working the forge. When you’re creating, there’s nothing else in the galaxy. It’s just you, your hammer, and the metal you're forming under your hands.

When you’re working, there’s no civil war. There are no politicians making things worse. There’s no worry about food or housing.

All you have to worry about is where to strike next.

If your parents had elected to move anywhere other than Sundari or had backed anyone other than the New Mandalorians, you would be rolling in money.

But they didn’t.

And what use does Sundari have for an Armorer?

“Sister?”

You wince when you hear your younger sister’s voice. She’s only eight, it’s not her fault that she doesn’t know any Mando’a. Mother and Father refuse to teach her, and they refuse to let you teach her.

If only babuir was still alive. 

“What’s up, kid?” You ask as you stop hammering for a moment, to critically eye the cane you’ve been working on for the better part of a week.

“Mama wants to know if you’re coming to dinner?”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Um…Nerf burgers and fried tubers, I think. Papa was firing up the grill.”

You push your goggles up off your eyes to eye your younger sister critically, “Father can’t grill, Nymmie.”

She scratches her cheek, “Well, he wants to try.”

“I’m going to pass, I think. I need to finish this tonight.”

Nym ventures further into the forge, carefully lifting the hem of her skirt so it doesn’t drag against the soot-covered floor. You really should invest in a cleaning droid.

“What are you working on?”

You glance at her, and then shift to hold it up for her to examine, “What’s it look like to you?”

Nymmie tilts her head to the side as she scans the metal in your hand, “Um…a cane?”

You favor her with a bright smile, “Good job! That’s exactly what it is. Maybe you have the makings of a blacksmith too.” You tease.

Nymmie scrunches up her nose, “No, thank you. It’s too messy.”

You laugh, “You should have seen grandfather’s forge back in Keldabe, the floor was dirt.”

She gives a dramatic shudder, “I’m going to work in a building. With climate control.” She announces, “And then I’m gonna get rich and you’re never gonna have to work again.”

You flick a gloved finger at the smaller girl, “Don’t let Mother hear you say gonna or she’ll tan your hide.”

“I’m not stupid, sister,” Nymmie pauses, “Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner?”

“Positive.”

She pauses again, “Mama didn’t mean what she said.”

“Then she shouldn’t have said it.” You counter as you pull your goggles back over your eyes, “I’m not working this weekend, if you want you can pop over and we’ll go to the botanical garden.”

Nymmie’s face brightens, “Alright! That sounds fun!” She turns and runs towards the door, pausing once she’s on the street, “Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too. Beat it, kid.”

As soon as you’re alone, you turn towards the fire and add more air to make it flare back to life.

Time to go back to work.

You work through the afternoon, and well after the sun sets. In fact, you don’t stop working until you put the final touches on the cane. It’s only then that you lay the cane on the workbench and send an automated message to the man who commissioned it, informing him that he can pick it up at lunchtime the following day.

Seeing as it’s nearly midnight by this point, you seriously consider leaving your mess to deal with in the morning. But you also know better. If you leave it for the morning, it’s never going to get cleaned.

So, grudgingly, you grab a rag and start cleaning.

By the time you finish, properly finish, it’s nearly 2 am and you’re practically dead on your feet. Your entire body aches from all of the work you’ve done today. Strong as you are, overwork still makes your muscles ache.

Finally, you step out of the shop and lock the door behind you while you roll your aching shoulders.

All you want is to go home, have a quick dinner, an even quicker shower, and sleep until 11 am.

So, the ugly curse you release in Huttese when three members of the Sundari Royal Guard approach you and greet you by name is not only totally understandable, but you’d even argue that it’s acceptable.

“What?” You’re too tired to be polite.

The leader of the group, a tall man with a full blonde beard, bows respectfully, “I understand that it’s very late, Armorer—”

“It’s 2 am, don’t you people sleep?”

The Captain’s polite smile doesn’t even twitch, “Duchess Satine would like to speak with you.”

You stare at him blankly, “Now?!”

“Yes.”

“I’m covered in soot. I haven’t eaten. And it’s 2 in the karking morning.”

“A fresher, clean clothes, and a full meal will be provided for you.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, “This is one of those situations where what I want doesn’t actually matter, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

You rub the back of your head, annoyed. “Fine. But I don’t wear dresses.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Grudgingly, and deeply annoyed, you trail after the three guards.

Well, two of them. The third, a young woman a little taller than you, apologetically offers you a bottle of water as she walks next to you. “Let me guess, you’re here to make sure I don’t run off?”

“No ma’am,” She shakes her head, “I’m here to make sure that you don’t collapse.” She beams and taps the red medic symbol on her arm, “Everyone knows that you normally start your day before sunrise.”

“They do?”

“You are the best blacksmith in Sundari,” The third guard, another man, pipes up. “My mother has a set of decorative goblets you made for her for Life Day one year, she adores them.”

You…vaguely remember those. It was one of the first commissions you did when you took over the shop from the previous blacksmith. “Well, I’m glad she likes them.” You finally reply, awkwardly.

The conversation stalls after that, you’re just too tired and too exhausted to be much of a conversationalist. Luckily, the people who are escorting you don’t seem to mind.

Soon enough, you reach the palace of Sundari and you hide your revulsion with practiced ease.

You hate this place. 

No Mandalorian should be living in a palace.

The guards pass you off to a servant, who leads you to a small room. There’s a brand-new outfit spread out on the bed. It’s not a fancy outfit, just a pair of brown pants, a cream-colored shirt, and a pair of sturdy boots.

Clean, but simple.

“Miss, would you like me to clean your jacket?” The servant asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and then you glance at the jacket hanging from your hand. You had been too warm after everything to put it on, so it doesn’t have any soot on it at all. “That’s alright. It’s clean.” You toss your jacket on the bed to join the rest of the clothes.

“As you say, Miss,” The servant bows, “The Fresher is through that door, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and lotion have all been provided. There are also clean towels and hairstyling tools for when you finish showering. I will be back in an hour.”

And then the servant is gone, and you find yourself alone in a room nicer than your entire apartment.

“This is fine,” You say to the empty room, as you turn towards the fresher while stripping your soot and sweat-covered clothes off, “I’m sure that this meeting won’t be anything serious.”

An hour later, you find yourself sitting at a small-ish table, the nicest meal you’ve ever eaten in your life spread out in front of you, a mug of caf in your hands, and a glass of the richest fruit juice you’ve ever tasted near enough that you could grab it if you wanted it.

The only people at the table are yourself and the Duchess, though there are guards positioned around the room.

Despite the late hour, Duchess Satine looks completely refreshed. She doesn’t look tired at all, and you kind of hate her for it, especially since the only thing keeping you going is the mug of caf that the wait staff keep filling for you.

“I appreciate you agreeing to come on such short notice,” The Duchess says as she sets her fork down on a napkin, “I understand you must be exhausted.”

“Well, so long as you keep the caf flowing I’ll be alright, your Grace.”

The older woman flashes a polite, close-mouthed smile, “And how is your meal?”

The meal is pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, eggs, and fresh fruit. You’ve only eaten a few pieces of sausage so far.

“Very good, though the amount makes me think that this is going to be a long meeting.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Duchess Satine sits back and folds her hands, “Tell me, what do you know about the state of the galaxy?”

You blink at her, “The galaxy?”

“That’s right?”

“Well, I know that slavery has gotten more prevalent with the return of the Zygarian Empire, and I know that the Hutt Cartels are pushing in on other Cartel territory. But other than that, I don’t know much.”

She nods as if she expected as much, “And what do you know of the situation on Mandalore?”

“A lot more.” 

She gestures for you to continue.

“Uhm, right. Well, I know that Mandalore is in the middle of a Civil War and that four different factions are vying for power. There’s you, of course. And then there’s Boba Fett up in Keldabe. The Covert is farther to the east, near the ocean, though I don’t know who leads them. Finally, there’s the Death Watch up on Concordia. They’re led by…uhm…—” You trail off.

“My sister, yes.” She seems completely unbothered by the fact that her sister is a terrorist, or maybe she just doesn’t care. “I have no qualms about the Civil War, I know that I will come out on top.”

You highly doubt that.

“However, I do need your assistance.”

“...mine?”

“You are an Armorer. That position is highly respected in the more traditional sects of Mandalore.”

Well, she’s not wrong.

“I would like you to go to the Covert and negotiate with them. Try to bring them under my banner.”

And, you have a moment of startling clarity. This bitch is absolutely insane.

“With all due respect, your Grace.” You say slowly, “But I make vanity pieces. I’m more of a blacksmith than an armorer.”

The Duchess stares at you with cold eyes, “Could you craft armor?”

“If I had blueprints and a month, maybe. But it wouldn’t be good.” You might as well be trying to negotiate with a wall for all of the good it’ll do. In fact, you’d probably have a better chance of negotiating with a brick wall.

“Good enough.”

Maybe you should move to Naboo. Their child Queen has to be more sane than this, right?

“The ship leaves in half an hour.”

“I don’t have any—”

“Everything will be supplied.” She makes a motion and the servant is at your side again, “I do wish you the best of luck. Remember, all of Sundari is depending on you.”

And then the Duchess is gone. Slowly, grudgingly, you decide to eat the rest of the meal that was provided for you, before allowing the servant to drag you to the ship.

Maybe you’ll be able to get some sleep on the ship.

However, you do take a moment to shoot a message to Nymmie, asking her to go to your shop the following day and make sure your client gets his cane. And you also apologize for having to scrape the plan for the weekend, since you won’t be in Sundari.

You know she’ll understand, she’s a smart kid.

Then, as the ship powers up, you drift to sleep on a cot in the back.

It’s what you deserve.

[keikikait]

ᴅᴀʀᴋ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ (ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader (not au, nanami is 28, reader is early to mid 20's)

word count: 2.1 k

summary: you just started your new job at trusted growth investments, working as a receptionist to one of the top performing stockbrokers, nanami kento. all seems normal, until one day you see something unforgettable in the dead of night.

warnings: no smut yet, but mention of masturbation (not in literally any detail), kinda slow burn. i know nothing about office culture, especially in japan, but i've tried my best! nanami barely talks, no use of y/n, kinda short i'm sorry!, i don't know how to write fight scenes.

a note: i am sorry for my long absence! i got dumped and had to move out of my apartment that i shared with my ex and move back home. i should be posting regularly!

read it on ao3 here

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

At 7AM every day, bright and early, you clock into work.

After years of working customer service, ranging from a clothing store to a café, you've decided that it's no longer for you. You admired the office life of having your own little desk, set hours every week, and most of all, no customers.

Sure, you were romanticising it a little, but you had grown tired of answering stupid questions, tired of the ugly uniforms and pretending that the customer was always right. It was time for a change of pace.

Trusted Growth Investments was one of the most popular investment firms in all of Japan, not just Tokyo. The pay was incredible, much better than the minimum wage you had dealt with before. You got consistent hours, PTO, and bank holidays off.

Your job wasn't incredibly exciting, you mainly sat around twiddling your thumbs or reading a book, waiting for your boss to give you a task. Not that you minded, of course, your boss was one of the things you loved the most about your job. You were the personal receptionist to Nanami Kento, the best stockbroker in your region. He was nice, quiet, competent, and of course, hot as fuck. 

You two didn't talk much. He would work, occasionally chit-chat on his lunch, before leaving for the day, bidding you a formal farewell.

It seems today wouldn't be any different. At least, in the beginning.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You look over as Nanami walks in, the elevator doors shutting behind him, heading over to his office. You stand up from my desk, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Kento.”

He's as put together as usual, not a hair out of place on his head, his suit perfectly tailored to his tall frame. “Morning,” He gives you a polite nod as he walks past. “I trust there was no incident yesterday while I was gone?”

You nod, smiling. Occasionally Nanami would take time off, never giving you, or anyone really, a clear reason. All you knew is that he went to Shibuya, and even though the nosy person inside of you wanted to know more, you knew not to ask. “Everything went perfectly, sir. How was your trip?” 

He pauses in the threshold of his office, leaning against the door frame as he runs a hand though his hair, a rare moment where his hair is messy. The motion is enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Oh, you know… the usual. Nothing that your pretty little brain should worry about.” He responds, his voice slightly gruff, though not unkind. He flashes you a small smirk.

He heads inside his office, shutting the door. You sat back down in your chair, your cheeks growing hot and pink. You knew that you shouldn’t be as attracted to him as you are, after all, he was your boss, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was a hot, older man, and he carried himself so confidently. You take in a sharp breath through your nose, taking a sip of coffee before opening up your email and starting your work day.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You noticed the little glances he gave you, the way he would place his hand on your shoulder and squeeze, and the way that he held his hand there for a bit too long. You tried not to read into it, but you couldn’t ignore the pooling warmth in your gut. It wouldn’t be the first time you would go home just to end up laying in bed with your hand between your thighs, your boss on your mind.

You were wrapping up for the day, signing off emails and checking off things on your to-do list. Your workday was supposed to end at 3PM, like it does every day, but when Nanami had asked for you to stay behind until 5PM, offering you an hour-long lunch to make up for it, you agreed. Any opportunity to be with him, to try to get as close as possible without overstepping a line.

Minutes melted into hours, the night seeping in, pulling down the sun while the colours in the sky called each other’s names to streak across a stretched blue canvas for a limited time. Your head swivels when his office door opens, his briefcase and travel mug in hand. “All finished for the day?”

Nanami nods his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, walking towards your desk. “For the day, yes, unfortunately. Lots to still do tomorrow.” He stands across your desk, his tall stature imposing, but not intimidating. He looks at you carefully, his gaze flickering down before meeting yours, a polite smile on his face. “Want me to walk you down?”

You smile, fingernails digging into your palm to repress the growing blush on your cheeks. “Go ahead. I have some more emails to send. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He glances at your hand as you dig your fingernails into your palm, his brows scrunching just a tiny bit. He shakes it off, waving his hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, tomorrow. Don’t forget to sign off,” He turns to the elevator and pushes the down button. The elevator dings and the doors glide open. He steps inside and pauses before the doors close. He hesitates for a moment, his mouth moving as if he’s about to say something else. In the end, he decides not to. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Kento.” You say with a small smile.

The doors slide close, and you let out a shaky breath, returning to your computer. After sending out the last few emails and clocking out, you gather your things and head outside, heels clicking along the tiles as the custodians move around you, vacuuming and emptying trash bins. 

You tap your key card against the lock, the front door sliding open. It’s already dark, the lights lining the street caused a paused dance in the dark-- filaments glowing a blood orange in the mouths of their glass cages. You pull your coat tighter, buttoning it slightly as you walk down the steps, heading in the direction of the station. It was quiet, even for a Tuesday night. No one seemed to be out, everyone locked up away in the comforts of their homes, watching the looming dark grey clouds overhead, waiting for the impending rainstorm.

You start your trek home, heels clicking along the pavement as you walk. Even though the streets are empty, the only feeling of life coming from the lampposts, you can't shake the unnerving feeling of being watched by something hidden, crouched down in the shadows. You try to ignore it, cutting through an alleyway next to the 7/11, lifting the broken chain link fence and stepping under it. You curse to yourself as it gets caught in your purse, tugging you back harshly as you try to take another step. You turn your back to the expanse of the alley as I untangle the link from your wired headphones.

Someone-- something watches you from the shadows, its dark eyes following the quick movement of your hands, the way you pull at the chain link fence that separates you from it. Your back facing it like an offering, like an opportunity. In its twisted mind, you’re perfect. A little mouse, all alone in the alleyway, all the while being blissfully unaware of its presence. It was like a gift from the gods, a reward for its good behaviour, a chance to finally pounce.

You gasp slightly, your head swivelling as you hear a leaf crunch. Your eyes scan the alleyway, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as goosebumps crawl down your arms. The alleyway is completely void of life, no one in sight, and yet you know that something is there, something lurking in the dark. You go back to untangling your headphones, turning your back to the alleyway once again. You had to be imagining things.

It moves so silently, slinking lower to the ground, like a snake stalking a mouse. It can practically smell your fear, can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, waiting for you to turn around, waiting for you to bolt so it can chase. But it doesn’t. It stays crouching low, watching you scan the alleyway, watching you shiver. It's practically panting, the thrill of the chase getting high into its head, like a drug.

Your head turns again, your fingers finally untangling the headphones, and that's when you see it, perched on someone’s balcony, right in their herb garden.

Something large, bipedal that resembles a grasshopper, with two giant wings on it’s back. Out of all six legs, it's only standing on two, the other four hanging to his sides. It's watching you now, tilting its head to the side as its antennae twitch. Those large eyes watch you carefully as its spindly fingers wrap around the railing. It makes no move to approach you just yet, it hasn't determined whether you’re a threat, or a meal yet.

After a few long moments of standing across from each other, you see its lips curl into a toothy, unsettling grin.

It screeches, leaping into the air, and you take off down the alley, running as fast as you can, your legs starting to ache. You reach the other side, bending down to grab the bottom of the broken fence to lift it up, when the monster lands on top, perched on the railing.

It looks down at you. It's even more terrifying up close. You can see the individual pieces of green-black carapace that cover its body, its massive wings fluttering silently in the night air. The worst part of it was the eyes, they look hungry, large, black, and soulless. They look like the eyes of a hunter, a predator, a monster from your nightmares. It clicks its mouth at you as you lose your balance and nearly trip, stepping back a few paces.

It screeches again, leaping into the air. You try to run, spinning around and bolting down the alley, but it catches up to you, picking you up effortlessly with one of it’s four arms. You dangle mid-air, only a few feet off of the ground, trying to wiggle away, fear creeping into your body, filling your lungs like smoke. You want to scream, scream for help, but you can’t, the words trapped in your throat.

The monster presses against you, its two other arms pinning your arms to your sides, its clawed hands wrapping around your waist. Its face is close to you, practically breathing against your cheek. It sniffs again, before opening its mouth and licking up the side of your neck. A few tears escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks in streams. It smells of death and decay.

You suddenly hear a twhip as something flies past your head. It’s a fucking knife, wrapped with a white fabric covered with black dots, almost Rorschach in design, a design for a second you swear you recognise. The monster screeches, dropping you onto the ground in a heap.

You hit the ground with a hard thud, your ears starting to ring as your vision blurs. You struggle to get air in your lungs, your heart beating so hard and fast you can feel it in your throat. Through the edges of your hazy vision, you can faintly see the large silhouette of someone, their body blocking the light of the street lamp. They speak, their voice deep and rough, laced with years of exhaustion.

“Are you hurt?” They ask.

You go to respond, the voice is so warm and familiar, and you swear for a second you know it, when the creature screeches again. 

You flinch, covering your ears as the creature screeches, the sound piercing through your ears, echoing in your very bones. The shadows of the alley obscure the stranger, but you can hear the clashing of metal against claws, the screeching of the monster. You try to stand up, but your legs feel like jelly, your back, and neck aching from the fall. You try to speak, but the words die in your throat as the creature screeches again. 

The screech is loud, almost blood-curdling, when it suddenly stops. You hear a sickening squish before a heavy thump, the body of the monster falling onto the ground as the head rolls over to you, bumping into your calf.

The man stands nearby, panting as he wipes the knife off, sliding it into his suit pocket. He gets down on one knee over you, brushing some hair out of your face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Your vision clears, and you see him clearly now. You groan, sitting up on your palms.

“Mr. Kento?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

i have no idea. please don't ask. i will do a part 2 if you want!

[thedemonscrawler]

what does your writing process look like?

8D hello!

Okay so step 0: become haunted

Invariably, a scene manifests in my head, and the longer it sits there, the stronger the urge to write it becomes. Not all scenes make the cut-- there's a lot of ideas that don't meet my standards of IC, and others that would be good, but require more work to develop than I'm willing to invest. I'm avoiding working on any intentional multichaptered fics until Permission Slip is finished, so those ideas stay on the shelf.

Usually the tipping point is when I realize I've worked out the specific wording to start writing it down, and then it's all ogre.

Step 1: write

I go to the appropriate file (all of my SAMS fics start on one of three documents: Eclipse-focused, Ruin-focused, and NSFW. Permission Slip is all in its own file as well), pick a spot between the existing WIPS, and write down the scene that's in my head. Usually there's multiple by this point, and I often end up with about 1200 words of 3 or 4 scenes as a starting place. About half the time I'll go back and add a brief summary, just to keep track of what it is I wanted to do, but I've found that extensive outlines actually discourage me from writing, cos my brain is like "oh you already did it"

Step 2: write some more

The 3 or 4 scenes I've written have gaps between them, often pretty big ones, so I just fill in those gaps with more scenes. Over and over, until there are no more gaps. This can take anywhere between a couple of sessions to several months.

8'D and yeah that's it. Give it a good readthrough for errors and publish to AO3.

I don't write sequentially. Instead, i move from most to least interesting, writing whatever scene happens to be in my head and filling in the gaps later. I've found that the tough bits will always be tough, and I don't want to fight through them to get to what I really want to write, only to no longer be interested by the time I get to that part. This doesn't work for everyone, and some folks do better when motivated by the reward of writing the good bit.

Google Docs has an Outline feature, so each WIP gets at least a temporary title so i can navigate to it easily. For Permission Slip, I also use the outline to move through the chapters without a lot of scrolling, giving the active sections little names to keep up with them.

Permission Slip also DOES have an actual outline... kinda. Actually, it has two. One is a general outline of events over the course of the whole story, kept in the 'notes' section of the document. The other is the short, scene-specific outlines that get jotted down for each section. A multi-chaptered fic is really just a bunch of oneshots, if you think about it.

General advice:

Keep a 'Graveyard' document of all the scenes you've cut. It's so much easier to admit to yourself that something isn't working when you know it won't be completely deleted, and you can go back later and maybe yoink some stuff off the cutting room floor.

Share tidbits with your friends on Discord. Write a little section you think is particularly good? Copy+paste it and share it with someone you know will cheer you on!

[qoldenskies]

HELLO HI ABSOLUTELY ADORE CC IN ITS ENTIRETY I'M LITERALLY EATING IT /pos

i dont mean to be annoying so feel free to not even respond, BUT i was wondering if you have any idea for when the last few chapters are going to be posted (they live in my head rent free.....cc donnie cc tmnt.....you guys stop running around, you're gonna break something.....) but just curious! i dont mind waiting for forever, i just kinda like knowing if it's a "sit tight" situation or a "brace yourself here it comes" situation in terms of chapters being uploaded.

fantastic incredible superb job!!! you've created something really incredible and i hope you know you have an amazing skill! THANKS AGAIN AND CAN'T WAIT!!!

hiya, you're not annoying at all! it miiiight have to be a bit of a sit tight situation for these next few because ive noticed these chapters are getting longer lol, the next one might be a normal 5k like ive mostly wanted my minimum to be but the last two will be skipping around in time a lot so they might be pretty hefty! the last one ESPECIALLY, i plan on going over a lot lmfao

if i dont hit a stride i USUALLY try to crank out 1k words a day, so the next one probably wont take more than like a week at my current pace. the last one was just ,,, hard for me, and im not all that proud of it even now LOL. i have NO IDEA how i got 9 chapters out in november that is deranged behavior

anyways thank you!!! <333 im always really happy when people express investment in my work like this mwah mwah

[buddiebeginz]

I hear what you’re saying and I love and appreciate the positivity but I’m just tired at this point. It feels like Fox all over again where its roads leading to buddie until the end of the season when it’s suddenly *storylines drive off in a random unsatisfying direction for Buck and Eddie and their LI’s* as the network goes hahah you silly shippers. You’re insane for thinking that was happening. We have no idea what you’re talking about or why you would even think that was a possibility. (But please stick around as we gaslight you into thinking it’s happening again next season before we do this all over at the end. 😜)

I understand why you'd feel that way and trust me I've been around for all of it and been burnt by the show time and time again so I get how you feel but I do believe this time is different. I think we're closer now to Buddie than we have ever been before.

If Buddie wasn't happening I truly believe Tim would have handled Buck's coming out in a way different way. He's not stupid and he knows how much people ship Buddie. Yet he made Buck's bi awakening ep all about Eddie. He's also had Buck and Eddie more connected than ever this season. There's also been very little of B/T and T*mmy. That's not the way you get an audience to become invested in a new ship. If Tim was really all about T*mmy and B/T we would have had more development with them yet they've barely had any real meaningful conversations

I also think that there would have been so much less press about Buddie. We've had more talk about Buddie by major press sites (ones that never talked about them before) like Rolling stone and People mag than we've ever had before. Tim and ABC (and the actors) could have made the decision early on this season to answer the Buddie question a couple of times to be firm and make sure people knew it wasn't in the plans. Yet not only have they not shut Buddie down but they continue to talk about it time and time again and the response is always basically that they want to take their time and do the story right. Also remember that questions are preapproved by the network and the actors team. If they didn't want to talk about Buddie they wouldn't be like in previous seasons when most of the time they didn't.

I get being scared to get your hopes up and of being let down again I'm scared about that too. More than anything I just really want to see Buck and Eddie finally be together. Not even just because I ship them but because I know how momentous and important it will be when that happens. I'm also tired of waiting for 911 to finally bring them together but I think we just have to be patient for a little longer because Tim and the rest of them only have one chance to get this right. I know a lot of us have been waiting years but considering they just moved to ABC and Tim just came back in a way it's like we're starting over again. But that's been a good thing I think for the characters and the show and everything feels like it's on a good track for Buddie to happen way more than we were after seasons 5 and 6.

Another thing is that the closer a will they/won't they ship gets to finally coming together shows will usually up the drama so we think it's not going to happen so then when it does it's more emotionally rewarding. So whatever is in store for Buddie right now even if they have a falling out (like some of the spoilers hint to) and even if B/T make things official going into s8 that doesn't meant Buddie is off the table. S7 did the most to let us know that Buck and Eddie know each other and get each other and are there for each other more than anyone else is for them and that relationship will always shine through above any other.

Try not to let the drama in fandom and whatever happens in the finale get you down. We can and always will be able to ship Buddie and celebrate that relationship regardless of whether or not they're canon. Message anytime. ❤️