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againstacecilia · 1 year

Text

Together

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Warnings: Fluffy smut, tying everything up, face reveal, having to say goodbye to these two is it's own warning.

A/N: Y'all... This is it! Thank you so much for being around for this ride. I started writing this in July of this year and before I knew it, an entire story was in front of me. I'm so grateful for every one of you who read any part of this story, and especially grateful to @creatively-analytical for being with me every step of the way. 💖

The next day dawns bright and warm, peeking through the open cockpit door and sneaking down into the hold where you and Din had fallen asleep only a couple hours before. His scent surrounds you, bright and warm like the evergreens on the edge of town. You keep your eyes closed as consciousness takes you, breathing in the feeling of security and care that envelops every sense thanks to the man slumbering beside you. Every fiber of your being wants to look over to see his face; all it would take is a simple turn of your neck… But you know how much trust he has in you to be sleeping helmet-less by your side. You couldn’t ruin that just to satisfy your curiosity.

Instead, you roll to face away from him and scoot closer into his embrace. He stirs at the movement.

“Morning, cyar'ika,” he mumbles, face nuzzling into the back of your head. He kisses down your neck and over your shoulder. The kisses, slow and sleepy, stir something in your gut and your body leans into the contact, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” you breathe, hand coming up to tangle in Din’s hair. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better than I have in years.” His lips never leave your skin as he asks, “You?”

“Mmm…” is all you can muster as your attention follows the trail his kisses make up and down your neck and shoulder.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest into your body. “Something distracting you?”

You turn around to face him again, placing your own kisses reverently along his collarbone. You follow up his neck and along his jaw before ghosting your lips over his. “You’re distracting me.”

“My apologies,” he whispers into your lips.

“I don’t think you’re actually-”

Before you can finish, he presses his lips to yours with a quiet fire. Your body responds instinctively and your lips part, his tongue sweeping between them. His hands are suddenly flying over your body, resting for only a moment before landing somewhere new, kneading and massaging every inch of skin he can find.

“You’re right, I’m not sorry,” he says, voice low and dark.

What started as something gentle and sleepy turns desperate as you both cling to each other. Din’s hand drifts lower, his fingers circling your clit with abandon. He kisses your neck and marks your skin with his teeth as your breath turns ragged.

“You’re so beautiful, coming undone like this for me,” Din says between presses of lips to skin.

“Take off your pants,” you manage, much less romantic than Din’s showers of praise.

He laughs but does what you ask, disengaging for just long enough to remove the article of clothing before his lips crash into yours. Your hand reaches down to wrap around his length and he sighs, head dropping to rest on your collarbone.

He breathes your name into the dark, nearly praying to you as you continue working your hand up and down his cock. After a moment his hand finds yours, “I’m not going to last much longer if we don’t slow down, cyar'ika.”

A smile curls your lips as you whisper, “Then fuck me, Din.”

He growls and bites down on the soft skin of your neck, coming up to straddle you and shifting his hips up to yours. You angle the head of his shaft to your entrance and he slips deep into you, both of you sighing at the connection.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Din says, rocking up into you. His hands plant next to your head, arms trembling with the tension of not absolutely losing control.

Your hands ghost up his arms, seeking purchase on his shoulders and fingers digging into his flesh. His thrusts pick up their pace and he slams up into you over and over again. It doesn’t take long before your walls begin to clench around him. “Oh Maker, Din, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He reaches one of his hands down between your bodies to circle your clit and that’s all it takes for your climax to crash over you. Your nails scrape along his skin as the waves of pleasure crest and break through your body. Din thrusts one final time before shuddering over you; sweat coating his naked body and breath coming in gasps as the hand between you twitches to grab the flesh of your hip.

You're both spent and Din finally collapses on top of you, skin to skin. As you try to catch your breath, a giggle bubbles through your lips.

“Something funny, Cuyan?” Din pants.

“No, nothing like that,” you giggle again and wrap your arms around him. “You just… You make me so happy.”

He nuzzles into you and laughs with you, the beautiful sound echoing in the dark. He rolls off of you and onto his side while pulling you with him. His fingers trail through your hair, “I’ve never felt like this for anyone before.” He pauses and you let the silence stretch, holding space for whatever he wants to say. “I know it’s soon, so soon after everything that’s happened for you, but… I’m willing to wait for you. I’m willing to wait however long you need but you are who I want.”

You turn your face towards his, the features inches from you but still veiled in the darkness of the hold. You picture what his face looks like as he bares his soul to you. How his eyes might be searching over your face. How his lips might curl around your name as he whispers it. How his forehead might crinkle waiting for your response. There’s no doubt in your heart as you whisper, “I love you, Din.”

A choked laugh escapes him before he pulls you in and kisses you all over your face. He skips around from your lips to your forehead, lovingly showering your cheeks and the tip of your nose as you giggle and squirm in his arms. Pure joy radiates off him.

“I love you too, Cuyan.” His forehead meets yours. “Akay haar kyr.”

“When do I get to find out what all these words mean?” You ask him with a poke to the side.

He nuzzles his nose against yours, “That phrase means ‘until the end’.”

Your heart glows while you kiss him. Pulling away, you ask, “What about shar… Shar-reek…”

“Cyar’ka means darling.” He kisses you back.

Between kisses and pecks, Din tells you more about Mando’a, the language of his people. It’s a beautiful language, filled with a rhythm that makes it feel like a dance. Mandalorians may be a warrior race but the beauty in their language gives you an appreciation for the depth of their culture.

After letting you ask a million versions of “What is this word in Mando’a”, Din quiets you with a long, slow kiss. His lips leave yours just enough to say, “I want to show you something.”

“Okay.” You lean in to kiss him again but he fully pulls away. The cot shifts as his weight is lifted off. You hear him step back a bit before the hold once again fills with silence.

“Close your eyes.”

You do immediately, the command becoming second nature. Through your lids, you can see the light turn on and bathe everything in a soft glow. Din’s footsteps come back and he sits on the end of the cot.

You hear him take a deep breath, “Cuyan.”

“Yes?” Your heart starts fluttering in your chest, the energy shifting between you.

“Look at me.”

You’re about to open your eyes before a thought stops you, “Did you put your helmet back on?”

“Cuyan,” he repeats, his hand gently taking yours. He brings it up to his face and, where you expect the cold resistance of beskar, instead you feel the warm skin of his cheek.

Tears well under your eyelids as you realize what he’s offering. More than his name or his body, your Mandalorian is offering his face. The final piece in his Creed. “Are you sure?”

“Look at me, cyar'ika.”

Your eyes fly open and take in the face sitting before you. Deep, dark eyes of velvet brown bore into yours from mere feet away. Your hand lays on tan skin speckled with scruff the same dark color of the curls framing his face. A smooth patch of skin hides along the stubble on his jaw, and a dimple forms as he watches you memorize his face. You take your fingers and trace along the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbones, stopping on the laugh lines that crinkle at his eyes.

“Din…” Your other hand comes up and both your hands cup his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Tears light his eyes at your words. He closes them and leans into your touch, chin trembling. You shift onto your knees and bring yourself toward him for a closer look, drinking in his plush lashes and full lips, memorizing every scar and line as you whisper, “Thank you.”

- - - - - - - -

All those months ago, when you were a trembling ball of fear and courage, you set out with a slightly terrifying Mandalorian to find someone you couldn’t imagine life without. In the months since, you learned about people and places in an ever-growing Galaxy but, mostly, you learned about yourself. You found pieces to a puzzle you thought had already been completed which helped you see how much more you were than a simple artist from Randon. You’d been crushed into so many jagged-edged pieces you didn’t think there would be any way to rebuild, but you did it anyway and found not just who you could be, but who you wanted to be.

The future will never be certain, you tell yourself that night as the Razor Crest whips through hyperspace, your partner piloting the way towards the next chapter of your story, but at least I can be certain that, whatever it looks like, Din will be by my side and I’ll be at his.

Together.

Previous chapter || Masterlist

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uchihabbynic · 2 years

Text

The Morning

Characters: Shikamaru Nara x Fem!Reader

Mentions: Ino Yamanaka

a/n: I’ve been stuck with the most insane brainrot for Shikamaru for the past 72 hours - like my insides were gonna explode so this is a total random word vomit. Minimal plot, just vibes & Shikamaru smut 😈✨

Warnings: Smut; Unprotected Sex, Smoking, Brief Drug Use (Marijuana)

Word Count: 2.7k

Mood 🎧: Power of A Woman - Ella Mai

You lay awake in the early hours of the morning peeking through the curtains of his bedroom window, watching as the sun tried to break through the dark, rain filled clouds that had covered the sky since the night before. You were as still as a glass lake on a windless day, careful to not awaken a sleeping Shikamaru as you knew how much he valued his sleep.

You deeply inhaled the intoxicating, musky scent coming from the oversized gray t-shirt that Shika had let you borrow the night before. The wonderfully addicting smell filled your nostrils every time you shifted under the covers, sending icy shivers down your spine. While you and Shikmaru were seemingly content with being nothing more than close friends, recently - you’d noticed a newfound tension between you two.

(Cliché, I know)

The lingering touches, the intense eye contact that neither of you seem to wanna break, the faint blush that crawled across his cheeks - which was a bit uncharacteristic for him. And now - lying half naked next to the boy you’d been friends with since grade school just solidified the idea that you weren’t just imagining all these things.

Suddenly, you felt movement coming from the other side of the bed.

“Mmm.” Shikamaru grumbled as he turned over on his side - most of his face buried deep under the plush comforter. Messy strands of jet black hair laid sprawled across his pillow as he could never keep his ponytail intact while he slept.

“Mornin.” He managed. The deep, raspiness of his sleepy voice made your heart flutter. His almond eyes slowly opened and he peeked over the blanket, meeting your own (E/C) eyes.

“How’d you sleep?” You whispered, turning back on your side, face to face with the Nara.

“Fine. You?” Shikamaru asked followed by an exaggerated yawn before settling back down into the blanket next to you.

A small smile crept across your face. “I slept great. Thanks for helping me last night.”

“No need to thank me.” He mumbled, eyes fluttering - fighting to stay open.

“You were plastered, so there was no way I was letting you go home alone.” Despite the drowsiness that consumed Shikamaru after just having woken up, he managed a tiny smile.

“Shikamaru, the hero.” You let out a soft chuckle as you sat up in bed and carefully peeled the covers back, stepping onto the cold wooden floor beneath you.

“Coffee?” You asked as you shoved your feet into the thigh high socks you had previously thrown off the edge of the bed.

“Hm, that’d be nice.” Shikamaru replied, now propped up in bed on a mound of pillows, eyes gently closed once more - resting peacefully.

As you made your way across the bedroom and into the kitchen, Shikamaru couldn’t help but to force an eye open and peek at you as your hips swayed across the room. He quite loved the view of your perky nipples that protruded through the oversized heather gray tee he’d given you and plushy thighs that rubbed together with every step. This caused Shika to shift, adjusting himself under the blankets, ensuring that his morning wood stayed under control as much as possible.

The aroma of black coffee beans filled the small apartment as you brewed a cup for yourself and Shika, still allowing yourselves time to fully wake up.

Something had been on Shikamaru’s mind since he’d taken you back to his place from the bar that you and your friends had been spending the evening at. He’d overheard a drunken conversation you’d had with Ino and it had been replaying in his head since then. Being the analytical man that he was, Shika spent a good majority of the night playing it cool but trying to interpret every possible scenario of what he heard you say last night.

Did she really mean that? -No, she was just drunk.

Maybe she wasn’t talking about me. I must have heard it wrong.

You handed the piping hot mug to Shikamaru who was in the middle of re-adjusting his sleek, black ponytail. An uneasiness filled the pit of his stomach as he watched you climb back onto the bed, settling next to him. He figured there was no point in driving himself crazy over what he heard - he may as well put it all out there and hope for the best.

“Y/N. Can I ask you something?” Shikamaru’s jaw clenched, bracing himself for your response.

You peered over a Shika who was staring down at his mug, the steam flowing effortlessly out of the hot Cup of Joe he held. At that moment, he was determined to not make any eye contact and that in itself made you nervous.

“S-sure. What’s up?” you asked cautiously, taking a small sip from your own mug. The coffee warmed your belly in the best of ways, like receiving a hug from someone wearing a fuzzy sweater or wrapping yourself in a blanket fresh out the dryer.

Shika scratched the back of his head, more fidgety than normal. You held your breath for what was to come. Nara was always so put together. So sure of himself. Nerves very rarely got the best of him, so to see him in such an unsettled state - you had no idea what could possibly be on his mind.

“Well. I’m going to just come right out and say it.” He paused briefly before taking a deep breath.

“I heard you say something to Ino last night and I just… I know you were drunk but I thought I'd heard you say something about sleeping with me but not wanting to make our friendship weird...” He continued, cursing under his breath, instantly regretting having said anything - fearful that he may have ruined a nice, pure morning with his accusation.

Your heart rate immediately increased, thousands of questions prowled your mind as your eyes blew wide at the shocking realization that Shikamaru had indeed overheard your drunken rant to your best friend Ino about how much you’d fantasized recently about fucking Shikamaru but that you wouldnt dare ruin a perfectly good friendship. You suddenly sat in your own painful vulnerability as your cover was blown. You were exposed and there was no time to backpedal.

Shikamaru sat, now making eye contact with you as he patiently awaited your response but when he didn't immediately receive one, he panicked.

“You know what? Forget I said anything. The coffee’s really good.” he breathed out, awkwardly trying to avoid the subject.

“What? No. I’m sorry, I-” You were swimming in your own head trying to figure out what kind of response to give Shikamaru. He was the most intelligent man you knew, therefore; there was no need to lie as he’d figure you out eventually anyways.

“It’s true. I said that.” You boldly admitted to which Shikamaru’s head snapped up - his gorgeous chocolatey eyes as big as could be before regaining composure, forcing his expression to go back to a blank one.

Shikamaru raised his brow. “Did you now?” he replied coolly yet obviously intrigued.

Shika never wanted to show an ounce of vulnerability so playing it cool was his natural defense mechanism.

“-So what are you gonna do about it?” His eyes now traveling up and down your body, fixated on your shapely figure. It was no surprise that you looked 100x better in any of his clothes than he did.

You leaned forward, mere inches from Nara’s face. “You tell me.” you smirked.

No sooner than you could utter another word, Shikamaru cupped your face forcefully pulling you into him as your lips crashed into one another. You feverishly melted into the spontaneous kiss that Shika had planted on you. Considering he was a regular smoker, his lips were as soft as you’d always imagined them to be. Both of your tongues were fighting for dominance but being a woman who never backed down from a challenge - you didn’t let up even once, being sure to assert yourself.

The room was filled with breathy pants as you pushed Shikamaru back onto the bed - his back flat on the mattress, your lips still sewn to his as if it was all you knew in that moment. You climbed atop Shikamaru, straddling his waist. You immediately felt his thick, hard member brush against your inner thigh which evoked a muffled groan to leave his throat at the foreign contact.

You detached your lips from his just long enough to attach them to his jaw bone - sucking and nipping at all the most sensitive spots. You let out a soft moan as you felt his large hands smack both ass cheeks, gripping onto them forcefully. Shika was quite fond of the color green so it was no surprise that you had “unintentionally” slipped into olive green hipsters to sleep in the night before.

You continued to move down his neck, desperately leaving a trail of purple bruises as you went. The heat between your legs became an overwhelming sensation as you could feel yourself grow wetter by the second. You began skillfully rolling your hips over Shikamaru’s boxer briefs - his large cock curved to one side begging to be freed.

“Shit.” he grumbled lazily as he jerked underneath you at the delicious friction you were rewarding him with. You smiled on his scorching hot skin, proud of the subtle praise Shika was giving you as you greedily continued to plant kisses all across his neck causing him to squirm.

“I want it.” You breathed out, desperate for Shikamaru’s cock to fill every inch of you. Best friend or not, the man was gorgeous and this was one fantasy you weren’t going to let slip away.

“Then take it babygirl, it’s all yours.” he cooed, arms propped up behind his head allowing the perfect view of you as he watched you peel off the T-shirt that was now drenched in your sweat. Your tits fell out with ease evoking his constricted member to jump ever so slightly in the briefs that held it in.

Without hesitation, you hooked your fingers into the hem of his briefs, eagerly pulling them down past his thick, hairy thighs causing his cock to bounce up forcefully slapping his abdomen. You crawled down his body until you were face to face with his oozing, hard member, giving the tip a small kitten lick causing Shikamaru to jerk once more under you.

“Don’t tease me sweetheart.” Shikamaru spat, unable to sit still as the coolness of the AC and the warm heat of your breath lingered over his red, swollen cock.

As you continued your ministrations, wetting the tip - you whimpered back in pleasure hearing the Jonin grunt and mutter curses as he felt your plump lips attach themselves to the upper half of his length. This was a sensation that Shikamaru would never grow tired of.

You finally did as you were told and ceased the excessive teasing and brushed two fingers against Shikamaru’s lower lip, coaxing him to open his mouth allowing him to suck your digits before you inserted them into your needy cunt. As eager as you were, Shikamaru was way bigger than you expected him to be and you wanted to be sure that you could show up and show out, riding his cock with ease.

As you shimmied your panties down your legs, revealing your recently waxed pussy - Shikamaru sharply inhaled as he’d never seen you this way before. You spread your legs wide on either side of his thighs and hovered over the tip of his cock.

Shikamaru immediately gripped onto your hips, his nails digging into your feverish skin, guiding you down- as there was a slight curve to the massive member he carried between his legs.

“Atta girl. Just like that.” Shikamaru groaned as you slowly sank your sopping wet cunt down onto his cock.

Shikamaru’s cheeks flushed with the prettiest shade of pink feeling your gummy walls constrict around him the further you sank down. A loud moan tumbled from your lips as the Nara filled you to perfection.

“Fuck, Shika. It’s so big…” you whined, nose scrunched together as you began gyrating your hips in a steady motion riding his dick.

“Goddammit.” Shikamaru panted out, beads of sweat forming near his hairline.

While not usually very vocal in the bedroom, he was quickly unraveling underneath you - feeling your dripping heat strangle his cock. You suddenly increased the pace and began bouncing with much more fervor and intent while Shika had one hand planted on your ass and the other gripping your breast as you rode him into the mattress.

There was something so damn powerful about causing a man who was always so composed to completely lose control. You thrived off of it. Lived for it, even.

Shikamaru began drilling into you, thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours. The sound of skin slapping filled the bedroom - your legs were ready to give out underneath you as a familiar coil hit the pit of your stomach. Your legs began to shake. Your moans and whimpers bounced off the walls as you wholeheartedly lost yourself while Shika’s cock kissed your cervix. Your vision went blurred as you felt your orgasm violently crash over you, still dazed from Shikamaru fucking into you with everything he had.

For someone who was inherently lazy, he fucked like a champ and you were certainly not regretting the decision to give yourself to him. Finally, you tumbled over onto Shika's chest, completely out of breath while his cock still drilled into you as he chased his own high. Mere minutes later, he was shuddering and cursing as he came completely undone, filling you with his thick, hot cum.

As the two of you rode out your highs together, Shika leaned down and kissed the top of your head, lazily drawing circles on the small of your back as you laid, still straddling him.

“Not sure how we got here but… I actually love it.” You chuckled, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Shh. Don’t question it.” Shikamaru muttered, still caressing your lower back.

>>>

It was now mid morning and you and Shikamaru had laid in blissful silence together after the dirty deed you’d done. Neither of you asked any questions or dared to discuss it. You figured there’d be a time and place to unpack whatever the hell just happened between you two, but for now - you were just content with existing in the moment. Suddenly, a fierce growl erupted from your stomach causing the both of you to burst out into laughter.

“What the hell was that?” Shikamaru frowned, joking at the sound that had left your body.

“You fed me everything this morning but actual food, Nara. What do you think?” You smirked. You loved the way you could exchange smart ass remarks with Shikamaru and he’d never get offended because you both just got each other.

“You know I can’t think about food until I smoke first.” he replied, nonchalantly.

You sighed, jumping off the bed grabbing the pre-rolled joint you’d made sure to have ready for the both of you in the morning.

“Fine, let’s smoke. But then, you owe me breakfast.” You demanded as you threw on a fresh tee from Shikamaru’s drawer and a pair of his joggers.

“My cock wasn’t enough, huh?” He joked, slapping your ass as he jumped off the bed behind you, pulling some shorts onto his waist.

“Ha, ha.” You sarcastically replied as you made your way onto the balcony for your morning medicine.

You pulled up a chair next to where Shikamaru always sat for his cigarette breaks. Your lips wrapped around the joint with ease as you cupped your hand, bringing the pink lighter you carried to your mouth lighting the opposite end of the paper before taking a nice long drag.

You blew out, handing the joint to Shikamaru as you soaked up the rays of the mid-morning sun.

“So what do we tell our friends?” you asked, leaning back in the wicker chair.

Shikamaru shrugged, absolutely unbothered. “Nothing. Let’s keep this morning to ourselves. Our little secret.” He said, cracking a smile as he handed the joint back to you after taking a few small hits.

“Deal.”

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru smut #shikamaru x y/n #naruto smut #brainrot

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lorei-writes · 1 year

Text

HC: Baker!Chevalier

I've had this chat with @venulus the other day about how the circumstances are partially what makes Chev appear so ruthless... And since then Baker!Chev has been living in my head, so let me shoo him out real quick.

Content Warnings: none

Baker!Chevalier:

Mmm, bread.

The switched out variable in case of this HC is social standing -- Chevalier would not be any less of analytical genius than he is. However, he'd face different challenges than assassins, at least initially.

For one thing, the path for his intellectual growth would be a more treacherous one. Having been born to a family of bakers, Chevalier would not have had access to nearly a fraction of books available to a prince, not to even mention tutors.

However, books are hardly the only source of knowledge. Stories exchanged by townsfolk for generations, gossipy conversations, people just taking care of their lives -- the world around is an endless source of information for as long as one is willing to strain their ears and eyes.

That being said, I do think it would be likely for Chev to get in good graces of the bookshop owner sometime in his early teenage years. I'd expect it to be a mutually beneficial relationship -- and perhaps the beginning of Chevalier straying from the path chosen to him by his parents.

Listen, he'd make some really, really good bread. Wonderful even. But... In the original story, even his own mother feared him. I personally think it would be even worse if he was born a commoner.

Others wouldn't understand him. There would be little direct use for his talents as well. With how arrogant he can be... I'd expect little Chev to be a bright child, although an outcast.

Chevalier would receive no military training at an early age. As such, I don't think it would be unrealistic to say he'd get himself into fights that he'd lose... at least initially. Data is data, however it may be obtained, and he'd be sure to improve with time, eventually being able to hold his own even against those older and stronger than him. (Because, of course, he wouldn't lower his head).

Eventually, he'd earn himself a name for this.

And now we backtrack to the bookshop owner: I think they'd take Chevalier's prowess into consideration, and offer him a job. Given the access to books that came with it, Chevalier would be sure to accept it. It'd start his rapid growth period.

Chevalier would destroy anything that would dare stand in his way. Social classes? So. Be. It.

Now, now, I don't suppose it would be guided by some higher values, or "people like me deserve better". But I can't imagine Chevalier being fine with being restricted in any way.

Chevalier would join military as soon as possible. At this point, he'd probably have little to no contact with his family of origins. >> I think it'd be likely for him to start as an ordinary soldier, to later be knighted, and perhaps even granted some land and title.

I think his strategic mind would be appreciated there. However, his insubordination to noblemen, and open refusal to execute orders he deemed as ridiculous? That, that would earn Chevalier many enemies. (And so, assassination attempts would follow).

Now, the thing is, Chevalier doesn't undertake actions that do not bring him closer to the accomplishment of his goals. However, in the original story he is a prince, the legitimate son of the late king. He stands above others; the law is in his favour. In the original story, Chevalier does not need to be considerate of others in any way, as it is not crucial for anything that he may want to achieve. (Essentially, he's their superior whether they like it or not -- go against him? They're going against the royalty. Given the name he has earned for himself, the benefits that come with his social standing, and his talents? He's able to deal with their insubordination before it fully blooms).

Now, what IF it was crucial for him to obtain the support of others?

Chevalier in this scenario would be at the disadvantage due to his social status. He wouldn't have any benefits that come with being a prince. I am not saying he'd turn into Leon and suddenly value of human life like him, no. But I do think he'd be less inclined to dispose of pawns he still could have a use for. (Partially because of how limited their numbers would be initially).

One of the guidelines for his actions in the original story is the well-being of Rhodolite. I do suppose it'd remain the same. However, to even be in a position to have any influence over the course the country may take, he would first need to deal with those who may oppose him.

Depending on who was a king, I wouldn't completely exclude the possibility of an uprising. I can't imagine Chevalier would care much for the title itself for as long as he had enough power in his hands.

And you know what? Although Chevalier would still be very much Chevalier, I do think the public eye's perception of him could change. I think he would be seen as arrogant, but also as an inspirational figure.

Assuming he'd have to allow for his family of origins to be killed, so that the groups of his supporters would not be harmed -- even that could potentially be framed as a sacrifice for the sake of the country.

Of course, another change could occur once he'd get into power.

Tag List: @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @cilokgoang

#chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen prince chevalier #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen series

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daebraeksan · 11 months

Text

Calming down from vague anxiety after a social event with Nagi + friends

Genre: comfort, fluff

Contents: implied anxiety/ hypervigilance/ trauma/PTSD, friends, vibes,

Wc: 2264

*~ *~ *~ *~ *~

You and Nagi slam your doors closed as you switch places with the valet to get into the car. You lock it and get settled, and are anxious about holding up the line, so you are ready to drive—but there’s a line in front of you, too, so you have to make do with inching ahead, pausing for long periods of time. That’s just as fine. Your eyes adjust to the dark, and you squint to protect yourself from the too-bright headlight that some people have.

“Are you okay?”

You turn to Nagi, one of the only people whose full attention can be on you, and you actually like. You try to let yourself disengage from the previous situation—a bustling party filled with lots of famous people you don’t know and lots of friends you do know—and relax into the new situation, which was you were with your favorite person, and you felt safe with him.

Alright! You tell yourself, as you notice your anxious heartbeat. You wait for yourself to adjust to your new surroundings. Any time now!

“Mmm.” But old habits die hard. You don’t like to lie—you never would, to Nagi, unless it was a good surprise, like a birthday party or present—but you also don’t like to tell the truth about when you are “not okay.” You don’t like not being okay. It’s a hassle. You are very earnest and hard working in most things, except for taking care of yourself. When it comes to selfcare, you sound a lot like Nagi, actually. Which he does not appreciate—he wants you to take care of yourself, just like how you take care of him so well, and everyone else in your whole life. So he tries to ask you, and you try to tell him, because you want to try. You want to be better at taking care of yourself and being honest with yourself. And you like being honest with Nagi. And you feel safe to tell him stuff.

Most of the time. The other times, it’s not his fault specifically—it’s that your brain’s patterns haven’t caught up with the “new” reality you are living in (that you are surrounded by safety and love and you don’t have to be so ON GUARD anymore.)

“That was a big sigh.”

You don’t want to breath angrily at anyone—not like the passive aggressive people you grew up with. You know Nagi does not think you are angrily sighing at him, because he doesn’t think like that. But you think like that so you don’t want even a hypothetical situation where he would get that idea into his mind, because that’s not you. You love him, and you wouldn't do that to him.

Unfortunately, that means you have to explain yourself.

You take another breath, and have successfully navigated through the stressful parking situation and onto the main road. Nagi enters directions to your house on the GPS and you are grateful to be able to engage the analytical compete-a-task part of your brain—and even better, it’s a task you have done successfully many times over. You got this!

Hiori calls and asks if it’s good if they’re all still coming over. Nagi looks at you. You nod.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod again. Everyone who’s coming over are people you like and feel safe with. It’s not like a huge public event where there are a ton of randos posing random threats. Random and hypothetical. You emerged safely, so, either you neutralized all threats, or there were none to begin with.

You can never be too certain, though. Right? Haha.

“Yeah, we’ll see you when we get home.” Nagi says.

“Okay, cool,” Hiori says sweetly. “See you there.”

Nagi hangs up.

“Can you turn on music,” you say.

Nagi finds the chillest playlist you guys have and turns it on. If you weren’t so anxious, you would tell him to change it because you don't want to fall asleep.

Once your adrenaline crashes, you might actually be able to fall asleep to this playlist, though. Maybe you’ll ask him to play it again once you all get home.

“How was your time at the party?” Nagi asked.

You smile a little. You know the question is not sarcastic. It’s just funny because you both basically spend the entire time together.

“I had fun with you,” you say honestly.

“We should have stayed home.” Nagi says, probably also very honestly.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask sympathetically, just in case.

“You know I do,” Nagi says.

You let out a short amused exhale.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asks.

You think for a second.

“Maybe,” you say.

“You’ll let me know?” he asks.

“Okay,” you say, and he turns up the music, gets on his phone, and lets you think.

As fucked up as it sounds, sometimes when things are going really well is when you are the most stressed. Take today for example. You had to roll with the “punches.” A lot of unexplained and unplanned events. And punches was a very violent word to use for a lot of situations where the stakes were very low and there was no danger. Threat level minimal. And now that things have basically wrapped up, your brain is trying to make up some danger to explain…? Well. Explain why you feel this way. Your life is usually full of danger—at least when you were growing up—to the point where you aren't even always conscious of what the danger is, just that you have a sense that there is danger somewhere.

Other people used to pose a lot of danger when you grew up. You didn’t trust easily then, and you still don’t now. You want to keep yourself safe, but you want to get better at believing in the safety that you experience in the present instead of making up danger that matches the feelings you had a lot as a kid, the feelings that come back now as habit, at the drop of a hat, the blink of an eye. There are so many triggers that happen daily, normal events that trigger these scared feelings, and it makes it really hard to enjoy daily life. You don’t have to be “normal”—you’ve basically given up on that. But you deserve to be happy and enjoy activities and aspects of life. You’re here, you’re alive, so you might as well make the best of it.

You still get frustrated when you can’t calm down. Your skepticism almost chokes you while you try to take deep breaths. Your racing thoughts smirk at your eyes, trying so hard to convince you that you are calm and safe by perceiving your (calm and safe) surroundings. You are your own worst enemy now. That doesn’t feel good. You had enemies in the past. But they were all muddled up—people who were supposed to love you and be there for you were harming you and betraying you. But your young mind could only comprehend so much.

So when you are finally treated sanely, calmly, and respectfully, your adult brain cannot fully comprehend it. Cannot fully trust it.

You arrive home, and somehow, some people have already beat you there.

“Why didn’t you call?” you ask, familiar I’m-a-bad-host panic stirring in your chest.

“We did,” Barou snapped at Nagi, who held his gaze stubbornly.

You turned to Nagi. Before you can say anything, he bonks you on the head lightly and kisses your nose.

“Fine!” Barou says.

“We’re not paying you any taxes, trash king,” Nagi says.

“Double fine!” Barou accuses.

You smile at him, laughter in the back of your throat. If you hadn't already been socialized out from the event, maybe you would have.

You let everyone into your home, and they spread out into the living room and kitchen.

You put your keys on the counter by the door, and Nagi wraps his arms around your waist and engulfs you, head hooked over your shoulder. You reach back and pat his hair with one hand and put your other hand over where his arms are crossed over your tummy.

“Thanks for going with me,” you say.

“I would say that to you, but I didn’t want to go,” he grumbles.

“Not even a little?” you ask.

“You make me go.”

“Don’t blame me,” you say, though, you know that you like events way more than he does, and he won’t let you go alone—even though he could!

He kisses your neck. “I know. If I 100% didn't want to go, I wouldn’t.”

“You only 99% didn’t want to go?” you grin.

“I 100% want to hang out with you,” he says.

You wriggle out of his grasp so you can turn around to face him, and bring your lips to his.

“You know we can go if you’re just going to make out,” Yukimiya teases you. Even though you know him a lot better by now, you still feel way more embarrassed when he teases you than anyone else. Your face still flushes and you boo him.

“I’m not going anywhere!” Bachira yells from the living room.

“Just tell them to go to the bedroom. We’ll watch a movie,” Gagamaru’s dull voice is just audible from where he’s presumably posted up with Bachira.

You take Nagi’s hand and start to pull him to where everyone’s hanging out. You can’t brute force him into doing anything, and so he makes you wait until he fills his and your water bottles before he lets you drag him to the living room.

Bachira is curled up with every blanket you own, and is trying to cover Isagi with some, too.

“It’s too hot!” Isagi pleads. Bachira throws one over his head.

“Moved in, fully I see?” you tease.

Bachira looks at you, wide eyes serious. “You joke,” he says ominously. “And yet.”

“He’s the monster under your bed,” Hiori says, eyes sweet and amused.

Bachira beams.

“Whoa. That was so good. Write that down!” Zantetsu orders absolutely no one.

Barou picks a tv show—starts in the middle of a show absolutely no one else has watched, and gets mad whenever anyone asks a question.

Having secured (negotiated) a blanket from Bachira, you snuggle with Nagi, and get settled in to watch the movie. Your anxious feelings were forgotten momentarily as you dealt with getting everyone inside and settled. Now that you are sitting down, watching something you aren’t sure you’ll be able to engage with anyway, you stare down your thoughts regretfully. You can’t stop them from coming. They’re already here. You regret them even as they are happening. You wish you could give yourself some peace.

But anyway, your brain is your brain and you're going to have thoughts, and you are not obligated to be mean to yourself about them. You still might. Out of habit. But that’s okay too.

You hold Nagi’s hand between your two, clasping your fingers with his, running your thumb up his palm and fingers, feeling his gamer’s callouses. You want to find a way to comfort yourself that makes sense for you now and that will actually be effective. When you’re with Nagi, there are some pretty effective ways. Like what you’re doing right now!

When you’re by yourself? So far you feel very ineffective. That doesn’t feel good. Relying on someone feels dangerous. Relying on someone feels unreliable.

Nagi squeezes your hand back.

“Check your phone,” he whispers after a while.

You make to reach for it when you realize. “I don’t have it.”

Nagi tch’s at you, and—you’ve fully accepted this about you, there is no room for embarrassment, cringe is dead anyway—your heart seizes with love for him. He shows you his phone.

“Do you still want to talk?” he has texted you.

“I think I’m okay,” you type.

He erases what you’ve written.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m okay now.”

“I love you,” he says.

“Shhhh!” Barou hisses.

“Shut up, trash king,” Nagi gripes while Bachira says, “I love you, too!”

Nagi looks at him.

“I was talking about y/n,” Bachira grins.

“Back off,” Nagi says lightly.

“I can’t, I’ve already moved in,” Bachira says.

“You haven’t.” Nagi and Bachira stare at each other, faces lit with flashing colors from the tv.

“I love you, too,” you say, and kiss Nagi on the cheek.

“Thanks, y/n,” Bachira grins.

“She was talking to me!” Nagi snaps.

“It’s okay, y/n, you can let him think that,” Bachira stage-whispers.

“Are ya’ll done?” Barou booms. “I feel like the show is happening here, more than on the tv.”

“It’s more interesting here, too,” Bachira is always quick with his quips.

Barou growls, and you let yourself laugh. Nagi looks at you, and you see he finally looks relaxed too. You scratch the top of his head.

“When are you all leaving,” Bachira asks.

“Why?” Isagi asks.

“I want to go to sleep,” Bachira says.

“You don’t live here!” Nagi yells (his version of yelling.)

“He can sleep over,” you say.

Bachira looks very smug and Nagi looks at you, hurt and betrayed.

“We’ll talk about it,” you promise. Nagi hugs you tighter, and everyone finangles movie choice from Barou, and as you all start watching something much more palatable to everyone, you are grateful that you are in a safe environment where you don’t have to overanalyze every moment and feeling. You settle in for a good night, and honestly, none of them have to leave. That’s what floors and blankets are for.

#bluelock #blue lock #bluelock fanfiction #blue lock fanfiction #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro fanfiction #nagi seishiro fic

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hellachaotic · 2 years

Note

In general, Alexander wasn’t ever much for technology. Well, technology that could watch him and tell him what to do. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his phone, but his phone couldn’t talk back. Furthermore, anything that distracted from work wasn’t welcome, but when he was told it was either get used to the new normal of having an assistant help him with his cases or have to resign, he took the first option with enough complaining to show his disdain.

Not even expecting everything to happen so fast, when he walked into work and saw a figure in his office, he didn’t even know it was his new assistant. Instead, he walked in with a yawn and a, “mmm, you here for a case or something?”

"I am here for every case," Shuonun said with a smile. "I am your new assistant, and you may call me Shuonun. I am programmed to help you, and protect you from harm on an absolute level. I am equipped with top tier analytical programs and can download or upload any information via the internet. I am also capable of recording video and audio, and taking photos and notes in real time."

As Shuonun listed his features, he puffed out his chest slightly as if he were proud of them.

"You are Alexander Pine, but I have been instructed to call you "Detective.""

@sword-and-sorrow

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oopsiespooks · 3 months

Note

idk if you reblogged the ask meme but if so. 👑 👕!

👑 - What dragon(s) in your lair are best dressed?

mmm it's so hard to CHOOSE so i'll do 4?? first up are eclipse and skoll, father & son duo! similarly outfitted, eclipse is the main doctor/physician in the clan (who also works with a necromancer), quite cold and analytical given his line of work being quite.. daunting. his son skoll is more of an assistant at his office that serves beverages and does errands, preferring to not get their claws dirty.

next up, 2 of my favourite ladies. sandstorm is the scout for crescent (one of my first oldies, turning 7 in may), and scavenges weird trinkets in her spare time when the clan doesn't need her assistance. qaitei is my first lvl25 & main trainer, very passionate and most of the clan finds her a bit overwhelming, but is good friends with the blacksmith. love them both to bits qwq

had a bit of help from the old oaks discord for most of my dragon outfits, but i'm still super proud of them :D

👕 - What are your favorite apparel items/sets?

hmm never really thought about it, but considering i had my first NotN just go by, i do adore the Unearthly Onyx & Echo Eater sets! for non-NotN stuff, any of the garden sets make me go :D i love the baggy trousers, would definitely have them irl if i could.

a big lover of the mandible helmets! geshyor is wearing the creeping helmet and i think it wears it wonderfully. also the sage sashes! delightful things that i enjoy utilising. such a huge fan of so many apparel pieces individually given on a good day, anything can work !!

thanks so much for the ask <333

ask meme

#ask meme #flight rising #spooks' dragons #it took some thinking and brain went HUHGHG dragons so enjoy this word soup with a side of lore #hmm i should make a lore tag so i dont lose stuff #!! crescent clan lore #there we go

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ryttu3k · 1 year

Note

for the ship game:

beckett/sascha

mina/jonathan

nines/lacroix

vykos/holzmann (aka Double Sascha)

[ship it or don't ship it meme]

Well that's a solid 'ship it' for all four. Let's go through 'em!

Beckett/Sascha

What made you ship it?

Literally, this exact passage.

Like yes okay funny haha 'hate fuck it out' and all but this passage is the bit that made me go, "Oh. They're parallels."

What are your favourite things about the ship?

They work so well together. Not just as a character dynamic, but in-universe. Once they stop trying to murder each other, they just click, and Drowning of Rasputin showcases that beautifully. They have shared passions but different approaches that coordinate extremely well, where Sascha gets Beckett to maybe act a little more analytically and Beckett gets Sascha to, um, not turn people inside out.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Super not a fan of the like... pre-Dracon-extraction stuff where it's still extremely unhealthy, like I have seen some ship content that was still very much 'enemies' and not so much 'enemies to lovers'. Like I feel Beckett saw enough in Dracon!Sascha to save their unlife in Constantinople, but I can't see an actual relationship starting until they get through that.

Mina/Jonathan

What made you ship it?

Jonathan went from "I should get this recipe for Mina! :D" to "I would condemn myself to hell for Mina". Mina went from "My fiance wrote to me *dokis*" to "My husband is a goddamn beast *eyes emoji*". They protect each other, they look after each other, and they complement each other. They both have this really cool dichotomy of being both Very Victorian and also Very GNC And Also Sometimes Feral. They're both fantastic characters in how they're written and fantastic people in that I would 100% love to be friends with them. And they love each other and are devoted to each other with the force of a thousand suns and it'd be exceedingly hard not to super love both characters and also not come out of it loving their relationship, too.

tl;dr I took one look at how in love these dorks were and decided I was in love with their love.

What are your favourite things about the ship?

Oh, uh, I think I covered that above tbh XD

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Don't think so! They're not a main ship so I'm not as hooked in to the fandom, though, so I'm not 100% sure what the unpopular opinions are.

Nines/LaCroix

What made you ship it?

Played Bloodlines. Nines was my favourite, LaCroix managed to worm his way into problematic favourite. Peered with interest at some fics on AO3 and realised I had promptly lost my mind and read basically everything on there and then I was just in way too deep.

IIRC it was We Don't Have To Like Each Other To Survive This by @iravaid that made me go, "Fuck it, I ship it."

What are your favourite things about the ship?

They're absolutely brilliant foils. Camarilla Ventrue Prince vs Anarch Brujah street prince. LaCroix has authority on paper but no respect. He's Prince of the city and he's so alone up there in his tower. Nines doesn't want on-paper authority, and so rejects the title of Baron. He wants to be a part of the community, and for the most part, he absolutely is. He has, quite naturally, the respect that LaCroix wants, just not the on-paper power to enact his desires. They each want or need what the other has. If they worked together? Damn, LA's enemies wouldn't stand a goddamn chance.

Ira has a really good post on how they work as foils here.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Mmm not a fan of the non-consensual stuff but that's a disclaimer I have to give for any enemies-to-lovers ship, really XD;;

Vykos/Holzmann

Context: Sascha Holzmann is an OC based on a single sentence in Transylvania Chronicles II of Myca renaming themself after a fallen comrade who died fighting the Camarilla. You can read the bio I wrote for him here; the line from TCII is:

What made you ship it?

That little line from TCII. Myca is a walking clusterfuck of identity issues at that point. For them to take their entire name from someone means they must have been incredibly special to them, and that... stands out a lot. A lot of people must have died in that time. What makes this guy special?

What are your favourite things about the ship?

Rambled a fair bit on how I see them together in the bio/write-up linked above. With the caveat that lmao this is 100% a canon/OC ship... mostly it's the quiet support Sascha gives Myca? Myca has been Dracon!Myca for two and a half centuries at this point and I feel they no longer had much of a sense of identity of their own, and Sascha gave them the space to just... exist for a bit. No prying, no trying to Work Things Through, just being there.

Add on his values and what he stood for, wanting that freedom from manipulation, and I can see Myca seeing Sascha as... almost as an ideal? Someone who is free, who can act on their passions and values, who can advocate for themself as an individual, something Myca feels is no longer possible (based on @solivar's line in this phenomenal write-up: "I could not even pretend to be a self-willed child of Desire when my will was manifestly not nor could it ever again wholly be my own.") So the relationship they have, and taking his name afterwards, is a gesture of, "I'm intentionally and deliberately going to take his name as a way to represent his values, because those are values I want and need for myself."

I don't know, it's just a really interesting little tidbit from TCII that could spawn a whole lot of interesting stuff. The original Sascha had to have been so significant to Myca if they took his name, y'know?

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

lmao no because I made it up entirely.

#vampire the masquerade #dracula #feral nerd #mx meat crimes #caymanshipping #oc: og sascha #street prince #sparklingwater #closershipping

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contreparry · 10 months

Note

"wait, let me fix it for you." for Fenders perhaps? Happy writing!

Absolutely! Here’s some Fenders for @dadrunkwriting !

Fenris fussed.

It was an endearing trait, but Anders didn’t comment on it. Fenris could be sensitive, uncertain when it came to relationships. Or maybe he was only flustered when it came to their relationship, because Fenris could easily flirt with Isabela or Hawke when given the opportunity. But when it was them, when they were alone, Fenris was suddenly… careful. Cautious. Fussy.

It was adorable how Fenris settled into the nooks and crannies of what they were building between them. It was much like how he got into bed, plumping all of the pillows and smoothing out the blankets before laying out as still and stiff as a statue before sleep claimed him and he finally relaxed. He would curl up on his side and nuzzle his face into the crook of Anders’ neck, looping his arms around his waist and clinging to him like a drowning man. This was how he settled into their arrangement: careful and distant, worrying over propriety and how things ought to be done until he relaxed and let things be.

That was what they were doing now: relaxing in the back of Anders’ clinic in the evening. Fenris brought some book with him and was curled up on a cushion by the fireplace as he read. And as for Anders… Anders was noodling about with the lute Hawke uncovered in storage at the Hawke (nee Amell) home. She didn’t play, she said, and Anders seemed in need of a hobby so perhaps he’d like a chance at it? Anders hadn’t the heart to refuse her, and it was nice to have been thought of. But the lute was in rather poor shape- even a novice like himself could tell that much. The strings were broken or missing and a fret was completely absent. But he could restring the lute and make it a little more presentable before he figured out where to take it for repairs. Maybe. Anders lay the lute out on a table and stretched out a single instrument string made of sheep’s gut. Now, all he had to do was wind the string around the peg… right?

“Wait,” Fenris ordered. Anders nearly jumped out of his skin as Fenris nudged him with his hip and moved him out of the way, his broad, capable hands taking string and lute away in one smooth motion. He leaned on Anders, fire-warm body pressed against his own. His hair smelled of woodsmoke and tickled Anders’ nose.

“Let me fix that for you,” Fenris said, though he was already re-stringing the instrument with a practiced hand. Fussy. He always had to make sure everything was just right, didn’t he? But that was just a part of Fenris’ charm. Clever fingers. Good for turning Anders into a puddle of lust and for restringing a lute, apparently.

It was rather hot in his clinic, wasn’t it? Maybe the fire was a bad idea

“I, uh, thanks,” Anders murmured as he watched Fenris work. Such focus. Such determination. So intense! If Fenris turned that analytical gaze on him he’d die. Expire on the spot.

“Mmm,” Fenris stared at the instrument with a critical eye. “Fret’s missing.”

“Noticed. Noticed that,” Anders’ throat felt dry. Was dry. Parched. Maybe Fenris could fix that too? He was the fussy sort, and Anders needed some, ah, tending to now.

“We need to fix this fret first,” Fenris remarked, and he unstrung the lute. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Hawke said I needed a hobby,” Anders meekly replied. Andraste’s Knickerweasels, Fenris rolled up the sleeves of his sleep tunic and his forearms- always covered by those ghastly metal gauntlets- were just… Anders was going to lick them. He was going to kiss the pulse point at Fenris’ wrists and move down to his elbow.

“Of course Hawke suggested it,” Fenris grumbled, so intent on his fussing that he hadn’t taken notice of Anders’ condition. “As if she hasn’t heard your caterwauling before.”

“You like it. My caterwauling,” Anders said. Fenris snorted and elbowed Anders in the gut. It was a surprisingly gentle elbow, more like an happy cat’s rough nuzzling than an attack.

“… I like that you’re loud,” Fenris confessed. “Unrefined. Honest.”

“That’s possibly the sweetest thing you’ve said about my bad manners,” Anders could hardly believe Fenris’ candor. Well, maybe it wasn’t that shocking. Fenris was as honest as they came, despite his dignified and aloof manner.

“I’ll say sweeter things yet, but I’m fixing this instrument first,” Fenris retorted. “I need a sliver of wood and a hammer.”

“Yes, because I own a carpentry shop instead of a healer’s clinic,” Anders muttered, but his heart raced in his throat and his steps felt as light as a butterfly’s fluttering wings. They were settling, Anders knew, but settling in the way a house is supposed to settle, steadying itself against the warm embrace of its foundation. The two of them were learning to let things… simply be.

And that was enough for him.

#my writing #da drunk writing circle

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thewordworrier · 1 year

Text

It Started With An Alright Scene - Part Four

Series Masterpost

Word Count: Just over 5k.

Time to shift the grilling up to medium instead of light. Definitely more an “all eyes on her” situation instead of all eyes on them.

Shelly blinked rapidly for a second before she straightened her back and glanced down at the, still open, organiser in her lap. Her eyes landed on that silky-pink heart again before she looked over at the date that she saw them live. That particular annotation had two hearts next to it. That made her smile before she swallowed a little - she was nervous now. She knew that she should be honest with them, even if it could cost her the job. She didn’t think she would ever forgive herself if she wasn’t honest. The band meanwhile, waited patiently. Gerard was particularly curious about what was written on the pages in front of her - he wanted to know what she’d been looking at that had made her smile that way. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Would you like a long answer, or a short one?” Frank glanced around at his bandmates before nodding and turning back to her, matching her gentle tone of voice. “Give us the long version. The floor is yours.” She hadn’t been expecting that answer, truthfully, but she was pleasantly surprised. “Um, I’m going to be completely honest, because I was just raised that way,” she hummed for a moment while she composed her words. “Okay. My boss gave me a new copy, my copy, of Bullets when she told me that she’d put my name forward for this job. She said, and I quote: I don’t think it’s your style of music, knowing what I know about you, but you should give it a chance anyway.” Shelly paused at this and caught the uncertain expressions that most of the band wore. Gerard, however, was watching her intently, a small frown on his face as he listened to her, although she had the feeling that he was more curious than anything; he clearly wanted to see where she was going with this. That made her nervous. She bit her bottom lip before she continued. “And truthfully, she’s right. It’s not really my sort of music. It’s not normally what I listen to.” “What is?” Ray asked, also curious. “I listen to a lot of, ah, like… Pop and a little country -” “And Bon Jovi,” Frank added with a slight grin. “And Bon Jovi,” Shelly clarified with a giggle, not noticing Gerard’s tiny smile as that sound reached his ears too. “Um, a lot of Eighties music, really.” “Good taste,” Frank’s grin got bigger and then even bigger still when she giggled again. “Um, so… Yeah, she was right. It’s not normally something I’d listen to. She said that she thought that I’d find it… Interesting. And upon first glance, graphically I did.” The guys looked at Gerard at the mention of the graphics, and he looked slightly embarrassed but also quite pleased. “She also said that, at the very least, I’d find it lyrically interesting.” “How come?” Frank tilted his head curiously. “Dude,” Mikey sighed before turning to Shelly. “Sorry for the interruptions.” “It’s honestly fine,” she smiled gently at the quieter guy before turning back to Frank. “Why would I find it lyrically interesting? Or why would she point that out in particular?” “Either?” Frank said. “Both?” “Mmm… Well, I have a fondness for the written word,” she explained. “I read a lot, or at least, I used to, and I dabble in writing sometimes. I definitely use more of my creative brain than my… What’s the other one?” She paused and frowned. “Practical? Analytical?” Frank nodded, seemingly pleased with this answer. “So, did you? Find it lyrically interesting?” “Absolutely,” she replied instantly. “Lyrically and musically. I took a liking to it way faster than I originally anticipated.” “How fast was that?” Shelly smiled, almost sheepishly. “Like, second listen through.” This little confession seemed to amuse the boys (and possibly even please them, but she wasn’t too sure about this one) - and she knew this because they all smiled to various degrees. Frank and Ray almost grinned whereas the two brothers had smaller, almost shyer smiles. “I walked into Andrea’s office the next day, told her off for being right and asked her if she could pull some strings so I could see you perform in person,” Shelly continued after taking a moment to shift in her seat. “Strings were pulled, I saw you play, marched back into her office my first work day back after the show and told her I wanted the job.” They watched her pause again. She was remembering the look on Andrea’s face as she looked at Shelly over her coffee cup, before she turned around and told her that the job was practically, almost hers. As long as the band approved of her. “That leads me back here,” she said as she gestured to the room and them. “And I now realise that I haven’t exactly answered your question, but you did give me the floor.” “We did,” Gerard nodded. “It’s still yours.” “We also told you to give us the long version,” Frank reminded her gently. Shelly nodded and swallowed, looking back down at her lap. She was composing both her answer and herself. “I want this job because… Because I believe the rest of the office when they say that you guys are Really Something,” she spoke softly and earnestly, although she didn’t quite look up to meet their eyes; she knew herself and she knew that if she looked at them while attempting to get this out then… She’d stumble over her words a bit. Sometimes she struggled with maintaining eye contact with people in situations like this. “Because it’s clear that you have something to say, rather, that you have something more to say and I applaud the company for signing you and giving you the chance to say it.” The band shared looks and nods before turning their attention back to her when she quietly cleared her throat. “More to the point,” she continued. “They’re giving you a chance to say it, whatever it is, on a bigger scale, and I think you could really benefit from that.” She nibbled her bottom lip. When she spoke again, her voice was a little bit… Not louder exactly, but… Stronger? “You guys have Something, something special, I can really feel it, and I would really like to be a part of that.” Those words hung in the air for a few minutes while the band exchanged longer looks with each other, trying to have conversations without words. Not that she really noticed this as she’d closed her organiser and had started gently running her fingers over the stitching. It was more of a self soothing motion more than anything. She found it calming and she needed that moment for now. Once she felt a little better, which only took a minute or so - during which the band was quiet, she chuckled. “God, that was a bit… Heavy? A bit much? Sorry about that.” “No! No, not at all,” Ray started, looking around to see the others nod in agreement. “We asked the question, you offered a choice of answers and then you gave us what we asked for,” Gerard added. “Don’t apologise for that.” This reassurance made Shelly relax a bit, and she exhaled quietly. “Well, that’s good then.” There was a collective silence for a few minutes, the guys not really sure what to say or do now, and Shelly felt exactly the same. “Porn,” Frank said without warning, breaking the silence and causing everyone to look up at him. “Frank!” His bandmates chorused. “What about it?” Shelly said, oddly calm about it, though there was a light blush dusting her cheeks. “How do you feel about it?” Frank ignored the horrified looks of his bandmates to focus on the blonde sitting in front of him, although the calmness in her tone wasn’t lost on him. He also didn’t miss the pale pink colour on her face. “That’s…” Shelly frowned at him and paused, trying to choose her words very carefully. “You might need to be a bit more specific?” “You don’t need to answer anything about it,” Ray said quickly. “Ignore him.” “No, don’t ignore me,” Frank protested. “If we agree on hiring her, we need to know that she’s not gonna freak out on us if she finds anything lying around.” Shelly couldn’t help it; she snorted. “Oh, that kind of opinion! I was gonna say, it’s a little soon to ask for recommendations, isn’t it? I mean, at least buy me dinner first.” That comment took Frank by surprise and he spluttered. Although, the fact that she’d taken Frank by surprise; had batted a comment back at him even! And not just gotten angry or overly embarrassed or insulted or anything - the rest of the band had noticed that. “I’m not gonna freak out or anything like that,” she continued. “No?” Frank prompted. Shelly shook her head before shrugging a little. “As long as it’s not illegal content, I don’t really care. I mean, it encourages unrealistic expectations in regards to relationships, sex and body image, and that’s not something I enjoy as a woman, but I ultimately don’t hate the stuff.” “I… Don’t think that went quite where Frank was expecting it to go,” Gerard said as he noticed that the guitarist still looked a little… Surprised. “Adults do adult things,” Shelly rolled her eyes slightly with a smile. “More at eleven.” A couple of the boys laughed. “For the most part, no one forces these people. It’s fine. People just need to manage their expectations. It’s another consumable medium. As long as you don’t expect all women to look and act like that, or men, whatever your deal is, it’s fine,” Shelly adjusted her position in her seat and her voice softened. “Next question?” “Video games?” Ray asked. “Smoking?” Mikey eyed his brother. Gerard pulled a face at Mikey before turning back to the girl. “Horror movies?” “What about drinking?” Frank added in. They almost all spoke at once and Shelly took a minute, blinking rapidly while she tried to take it all in. “Okay, okay. Hang on.” Frank snickered quietly. “Okay. I don’t really play video games, but, again, I don’t really have anything against them,” she started. “I’m more likely to play board games with my family. Um,” she frowned a bit. “I don’t like smoking. I don’t do it myself and I don’t like to be around it, but people have free will so, it’s not really up to me what they do. I’m nobody’s mother - I’m not gonna tell you what to do.” “That’s very mature,” Frank said with a nod to show that he wasn’t being sarcastic. Shelly smiled a little. “I would request that it’s kept outside, like, not in my house, kinda deal though. The smell lingers and the smoke can ruin things, clothes and possessions. I like to look after my stuff.” “That’s reasonable though,” Ray said. “More than reasonable.” “I work hard for my money, so I work hard to get what I want,” Shelly said with a small shrug, “It makes sense for me to want to take care of my things.” There was a mutual nod of agreement. “What were the others?” She asked. “Movies and drinking?” “Horror movies,” Gerard corrected gently. “Ah! Right, yeah. I don’t mind those. I’m not great with them, I have certain…” She paused, searching for the right term. “Um, limits? Boundaries? But, again, I’m not gonna stop people watching them if that’s what they like. Just don’t laugh at me if I get nervous or a little grossed out.” “Laughing would be unfair,” Mikey nodded in agreement. “Do you not watch many of those then?” She shook her head. “Again, not really my kinda genre.” “And that’s fine,” Frank added. “It’s not like we’re all the same. That would be incredibly boring.” Shelly hummed in agreement. “As for drinking? Eh, each to their own. I drink a little, sometimes but not often. At least not anymore. I drank more when I was at uni, but that’s kinda typical. Again, much like everything else, I’m not anyone’s mother - I can’t tell you what to do.” “So you’re not likely to get mad at us for drinking?” Frank asked, wanting to clarify. “No, of course not,” the blonde shook her head. “I might get a little annoyed if you get ridiculous about it, or if you’re stupidly loud when you’ve already been asked to be quieter, but I’m not going to be mad about it otherwise.” Frank looked like he was thinking about this. “I do, however, reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ though,” Shelly added with a small smile. “But it’ll likely be quietly, and accompanied by a glass of water and some painkillers for the inevitable hangover you’re gonna have.” “Seems fair.” Shelly smiled at the singer before turning her attention to the bassist when he spoke - having been thinking about her answers for a moment. “It sounds like it all boils down to being sensible and respectful?” “Exactly that,” Shelly nodded before pausing and biting her bottom lip. “You look like you want to add something?” Gerard said. “I… Uh,” she paused, swallowed quickly and hummed. “I can tolerate a lot of things. I can tolerate being around a lot of things, hearing about a lot of things, and even having a lot of things said to and about me, for the most part.” “Not that you should have to tolerate things being said about you or to you, really. That’s not fair,” Ray said. The other three nodded in agreement. “Thanks,” she sounded a little touched, and genuine about it before she continued. “But, I draw the line at drugs. The actual taking of non-prescription ones, I mean. Singing about them is fine, obviously, but I cannot deal with what they do to people.” “You know, I think that’s more than reasonable,” Mikey said with a nod. “Do you have experience with that then?” Frank asked, getting looks from his bandmates afterwards. “What?” “It’s honestly a fair question. No, I don’t. Not personally and I don’t know anyone who’s…” She hummed as she searched for the right word. “Who has been affected that way but I’m fairly book smart about it, and I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t be able to deal with people in the throes of addiction like that. I think that would put me out of my depth.” “That’s really honest of you,” Ray said quietly. “I respect that.” “It’s not to say that I wouldn’t try,” Shelly added, nodding a thanks to the curly haired man. “But I really don’t think I’m that qualified. I don’t think I’d really know what to do.” The guys nodded and fell silent for a moment. “How do you sleep?” Frank asked eventually. “Um,” she tilted her head. “I might need some more context.” “Well,” Frank grinned a little and deepened his voice. “What do you wear?” There was a collective “ugh!” from the other guys, and Shelly giggled. “I’m kidding!” Frank insisted quickly, ducking the wrapper that was thrown at him. “I promise!” “Then ask what you actually meant to ask,” Mikey rolled his eyes. Frank pulled a face at the younger Way brother before turning to Shelly. “Are you a light sleeper? I think we can stay up fairly late for the most part, and we can get a little rowdy.” She thought about this for a moment. “I don’t think I’m an overly light sleeper for the most part. If I’m easily woken by regular noise, then there’s something wrong - like I’m sick or getting sick, or I’m uneasy about something.” “What about if we needed to wake you for something?” Frank continued. “I think I can be easily woken; you gotta shake me a little bit but I don’t sleep like the dead.” Shelly paused for a moment. “I mean, I don’t need like, five alarms or anything.” This seemed to satisfy Frank, for whatever reason. “Oh, and it doesn’t really take me overly long to get up, dressed and ready or whatever,” she added before she paused for a minute. ”I don’t take a long time, I’m not really stereotypical for the most part. Actually, the thing that takes me the longest is sometimes my make-up, but I don’t need to hog a bathroom for that.” “I think Mikey might beat you with that, when he straightens his hair,” Frank snickered, ducking away from Mikey. “Hey!” “Boys,” Ray sighed. Gerard looked at the blonde, noticing that she was watching this with a small smile on her face as she shook her head gently. He had noticed that she didn’t seem to react badly to Frank’s small, playful questions. She seemed to be more amused than anything, which… Gerard felt like this was a good thing actually. She hadn’t reacted badly to Frank hitting on her earlier either - she seemed to take it all in her stride, and she seemed pretty relaxed. A little nervous, but she was sitting on her own, across from four adult (ish) guys so that was to be expected. “You don’t think you’ll be uncomfortable sharing close quarters with four guys?” Gerard asked in his quiet manner. “I mean, assuming we’re not in a van and get a bus of some description.” “You’ll get a tour bus,” Shelly said with a single nod. “Not sure if you’ll get one for each side of the water but, I know you’ll definitely get one for when you’re back in the States.” “How do you know?” Frank narrowed his eyes curiously. She smiled. “I just know things.” Frank squinted at her a bit more. “I’ve also seen the plans, the contract, whatever,” she admitted with a small giggle. “Do we only get the bus if we hire you?” Frank continued. “No, you’ll get the bus anyway,” Shelly explained gently. “The contract says that you get an assistant, it doesn’t state that it’s me specifically,” she paused and shrugged a little bit. “I’m just the recommended option I guess? Something like that?” Frank nodded, apparently happy with this answer. “So, do you think you’ll be uncomfortable in close quarters with us like that?” Gerard repeated gently. “Hmmm, I don’t think so? I mean, give me like, five minutes’ of privacy to change clothes, or knock if I’m in a room with a closed door and I’m sure we’ll all be just fine,” Shelly said with a nod. “Treat me with common courtesy and we’ll all get on just fine. I don’t think I get that uncomfortable that easily.” “Your comments about porn suggest that too,” Frank said. “On that note,” Shelly tilted her head, addressing the whole band. “You don’t think you’ll be uncomfortable sharing close quarters with me? If you pick me, I mean.” “You seem like you’d be respectful enough.” “A logical conclusion,” Shelly nodded. “If I want respect, I have to be willing to give it in return. Which I am. I give things quite freely, but if someone loses something, like my respect or my loyalty or whatever, it’s very difficult to get back.” They nodded. “Fierce,” Frank said with a semi-serious nod. Shelly chuckled. “Mm, something like that I guess. But… It might take me some time to get used to it, but I don’t think I’d be uncomfortable.” “To be honest, it might take us a little time to get used to having a woman around almost all the time too,” Ray said with a nod. “So that’s more than fair.” “Everyone would have to adjust a little bit,” Shelly shrugged a little. “That’s to be expected and that’s fine. Hell, it’s normal, to be honest.” The guys nodded. “Do you think you could cope with Frank’s almost constant flirting?” Mikey asked after a minute, getting a scowl from the short guitarist. “I mean, you’ve done well with his comments -” “And the fact that he hit on you before we even met you,” Ray added. “You’ve done well so far,” Mikey finished. “As I said, him hitting on me was pretty polite. I’ve certainly had people hit on me in…” She paused to search for the word. “In cruder ways.” “He is quite the flirt sometimes though,” Gerard added quietly. “Hey!” “Could you deal with that?” The vocalist finished. “Sure I could, I’ve got some friends who are very similar,” she smiled. “And I don’t mind them flirting with me. To be honest, it can be a really nice confidence boost.” Frank stuck his tongue out at the brothers, who both rolled their eyes at him. Shelly giggled quietly. “So really, don’t worry about it. Frank’s really not that bad.” “And I really would stop if you were actually bothered by it and asked me to,” Frank said quietly. “I mean that.” She nodded. “I know, I get that feeling about you. About all of you, really, you seem like nice, respectful, honest guys.” They shuffled in their seats, mumbling soft “thank you”s and going a little pink in the face. Which, Shelly noticed - most of them were so pale after all, a little bit of colour in their cheeks stood out a bit. She smiled a little and glanced back down at her lap, rubbing the pad of her thumb over her nails, a little thoughtfully. Everyone in the room fell silent for a few moments. During this time, Shelly glanced up from her lap to see Frank watching her, leaning his chin on his hand and with a small frown on his face. She had a feeling that it was a frown of concentration, instead of a frown of… Anything else. Or at least she hoped so. He caught her looking at him and she smiled brightly, earning her a slight grin in response. She giggled, and this caused the others to glance over at her. When she realised that they were all looking at her, she dropped her gaze to her lap again and hummed, nibbling her bottom lip. Her doing this meant that she didn’t see them shuffle closer together on the comfortable seating opposite her, speaking quietly into each others’ ears. Truthfully, she was feeling a little awkward. She felt like there should be things that she should ask them, but she couldn’t think of anything, and that made her wonder if she was… Bad? For that. She’d been so nervous about this whole ordeal that she hadn’t really given the whole “is there anything you’re going to want to ask them?” question much, if any thought. She’d been too focused on looking presentable and acting professional. “So,” Frank said, taking the lead again. “Can you clarify what you expect to do in the role?” “Officially, like, the actual job description?” Shelly asked. “Or, what I would probably do in addition?” Frank glanced at the rest of the band before answering her. “Either or, both?” Shelly nodded. “Okay, so officially, I’m supposed to arrange travelling, accommodation, interviews, photoshoots, all that kinda stuff. All the admin and paperwork and the boring stuff, really.” They nodded. “I’m like, the stop between you and the rest of the world, kinda like, ‘to get to them you have to talk to me’ kinda deal, I think,” she gently scratched behind her ear. “Some people in my position even go as far as vetting interview questions and stepping in if things start getting uncomfortable.” “Really?” Mikey looked… Almost amazed. “Would you do that for us?” “Absolutely,” Shelly nodded. “I’m happy to do that if needed, you’d just have to let me know what topics need steering clear of.” They looked at each other. “I think it’s a way of making the assistant look like the Bad Cop while the talent looks like the Good Cop,” she mused. “Like if you just can’t get away from fans, that’s when we step in and move you along.” “That sounds… Difficult?” Ray tilted his head. Shelly shook hers. “No, not really. It keeps you in good standing with the fans. Like, oh we want to stay longer but we’re being forced away by the help.” “That sounds unfair on you though,” Mikey said quietly. “If you’re going to be around to help us out for a while, surely you’re going to want the fans to like you?” “I don’t work for the fans, I work for you.” She paused before correcting herself. “Theoretically, in this scenario. I mean, sure, a fanbase that likes you can make your job easier, but ultimately, we don’t work for the fanbase. We work for the talent.” “Okay, so what about unofficially?” Frank asked. “Like, what isn’t in the job description that you’re willing to do?” “Well, it’s not in the job description to look after you when you’re sick. I mean, it’s probably in the description to get whatever medication you might need and whatever, but I doubt I’d really have to go to the lengths that I go to when people are sick.” Shelly paused for a moment, brushed some hair behind her ear and pondered this. “Like I said, I’m a mama bear character, so I tend to really mother people. Providing they’re comfortable with that. Consent is important.” Mikey glanced over at Frank to see his reaction to that. He looked… Quietly touched, maybe a little inquisitive. “I’m not gonna go out and get you like… Hookers and coke though,” Shelly shook her head. “I’m not sure I’d go out and get you porn either. Food, clothes, make-up, medications, whatever, that’s fine, you know?” Frank nodded. “That seems fair though, like, everyone has limits.” “But for the most part, some people in my position would draw the line much sooner than I would. Like, I mean, I can cook and fix clothing and play make-up artist if I need to. Some people who work this job don’t always do all that kinda stuff, which is fine, as long as they do the rest of their job to high standards.” “I think someone in the office probably thought that we could do with a woman around to be honest,” Frank said. “They probably think we need to be taken care of more than just getting us from A to B.” “And what do you think about that?” She asked. “There’s probably some truth in it, honestly,” Gerard said. “But I don’t think that’s the reason why your boss recommended you. I think you being as caring as you are, providing we take your word for it -” “And I don’t see why we wouldn’t,” Mikey added. Gerard nodded and continued. “That’s just an additional bonus. If you’re the best at what you do, and you’ve got the additional, ah… Um…” “Features,” Shelly said softly. “Additional behaviours.” “Yeah, something like that,” he nodded again. “If you’re both of those things, then that’s probably just an extra bonus for us.” “We’re probably guilty of not looking after ourselves very well,” Ray said. “Which we know is bad, but -” “But when you get swept up in touring and making music, when you get absorbed in what you love, it’s really easy to forget to eat or drink or whatever,” Shelly nodded with a small smile. “I know, I can get like that. It’s okay.” The band collectively nodded. “But you’re not offended that the label might think that you need someone to remind you to look after yourselves?” Shelly asked. They looked at each other and seemed to think about it for a few minutes. “I don’t think I am,” Frank spoke first. “I’m a little more…” “Delicate, than the rest of us,” Mikey finished. Frank wasn’t sure if he liked that word or not and it was written all over his face. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Shelly said, seeing that look. “The fact that you look at that vulnerability in the face and say, screw you I’m not letting you take my opportunities from me… I think that’s quite something.” Frank swallowed and when he spoke, he whispered; “Thanks. I mean that.” She smiled at him and out of the corner of her eye, noticed the brothers exchanging a look, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. “I don’t think you’d have to worry about us asking you to do anything too insane,” Ray said. “What about if I say no to something? Is anyone likely to act like a diva?” Three of the four glanced towards the vocalist, who looked a little offended at this. “Hey!” Shelly hid a giggle behind her hand at this and watched the singer sort of glare at his bandmates before he cleared his throat and turned to her. “How are you with remembering -” “Things like coffee orders,” Mikey finished with a roll of his eyes. “Of course that’s what you’re going to ask.” “I tend to write them down at first, refer to the notes as often as I need to, but I get there in the end,�� she glanced at the take out cups on the table - the chain was across the street from the building they were in, which was convenient for most people. “Repetition is key, really.” “How do you feel about coffee anyway?” Frank asked. “Not really my thing,” she shook her head. “I like the smell, but I’ve never really liked the taste. I’ll stick with tea, thank you.” “That’s very… British of you.” Shelly grinned at the guitarist. “Well, yeah. I am British and this is England.” Frank stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh. “Frank,” Ray sighed. “Behave.” “Yes, mom.” “Hey!” “Alright alright, yes dad.” Ray just rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else you might want to know?” Shelly asked quietly after a moment. The band shared looks, trying to figure out if there really was anything that they might want to know. “I don’t think so,” Gerard shook his head after getting confirmation nods from his bandmates. “Although I feel like we should have more to ask you.” “Is there anything that you want to ask us?” Ray said. Shelly tilted her head, thinking about it. The guys waited patiently, giving her the time she might need. “Um, I don’t think so,” she said eventually. “Though, much like you, I feel like I should be asking more.” “What more could you possibly ask us though?” Frank asked. Shelly shrugged. “Exactly. I mean, I don’t need to ask you guys about how or what I’m going to get paid, I don’t have to ask you about the finer details of my job, or what limitations I might have in my role or,” she paused for a moment and waved her hand. “Anything like that, ‘cause a) you guys won’t know and b) I can ask Andrea and people in the office in general about those things.” They nodded. “I don’t think it’s your job to know those kinds of things anyway,” Shelly said kindly. “Leave that for the people like me, and focus on what you’re good at, and in this case, it’s making music.” She paused for a second. “And you really are good at that. Honestly.” This complement made the guys a little bit bashful, Gerard especially. She didn’t really notice that bit, she hadn’t focused on him and/or his reaction in particular. “I mean that,” she continued. “The whole London office thinks so, and I’m assuming the parts of the label on your side of the pond think so too. I mean, Bullets isn’t even my regular music choice but even I think it’s Something Else and I…” They looked at her as she paused before shaking her head. “I can’t find the words again. But there really is something special about you. Really.” Shelly nibbled her bottom lip. “And I really don’t think I have anything else to say, or anything else to ask.”

#She Writes #Gerard Way fan fic #MCR fan fic #ISWAAS #The Origin Story

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nextbrainai · 11 months

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#CPG Marketing mix model #Marketing Mix Model solution #Marketing Mix Modeling #marketing mix modeling mmm #marketing mix modeling optimization #marketing mmm #media mix analysis #mmm analytics #mmm marketing mix modeling #mmm model #mmm model marketing #mmm modeling

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ice-sculptures · 1 year

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Are you a gay mike truther or a bi mike truther?

mmm sorry anon i'm one of those boring people who doesn't have a very strong opinion one way or another. really i'm mostly just here to make gifs and (eventually) write fic and will leave the interpretation of mike's sexuality to my more analytical mutuals ✌🏼

#this ask is funny bc i just got another message abt recommending some analysis blogs while i was writing a response to this #answered #anon

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kmclaude · 2 years

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Hey Claude, how are you? Ive been going through months of writer's block, and it seems like I can't find inspiration anywhere. Maybe it's because I'm going through a lot in my non-creative life (which is unusual for me), but it's been more than just frustrating, it's been disheartening. So I was wondering, how do you deal with creative blocks? And what media do you go to for inspiration, if you do? Songs, movies, shows, anything really. This summer been long as hell, and I'd be happy maybe just to find somethin new to fixate on lol --🕊 (@pearlwhitetears)

hiiiii @pearlwhitetears sorry you're struggling!!!! creative blocks are hard and suck, especially when creative stuff is like....your escape/relaxation/relief from noncreative life.

for me i feel like a lot of my creative blocks are usually because i either need some new media to jostle my brain (or some old media that i can enjoy on a 'wow, this actress' choice to do x is really good' type analytical level as opposed to a 'wow i am experiencing this for the first time!!!!!!), i need to approach creativity from another angle (usually by sitting at my little bedroom craft desk and doing traditional artwork or typing away curled in a chair on some story or coding a website -- either way, not at my Drawing On The Computer Desk and not Doing A Computer Drawing), or -- often the hardest -- life is sucking ass right now.

for that last one -- the very Externalized Art Block, the kind of "a lot is going on in my life" sort of blocks -- I find it's...mmm, I don't wanna say self fulfilling prophesy or Sisyphean hell cycle, but it's one of those "life sucks -> try to create -> too stressed to create because life sucks -> despair -> life sucks more now" circles that the pressure TO create just adds another weight, another stressor, that feeds back into the stress of noncreative life.

for those...yeah, fuck, those are hard. hell, I'm literally in the middle of one: this time last year a lot of things happened one after another including my car getting totaled, going to the ER, and a terrible hurricane. then less than a year ago my fiancé left me and i am still absolutely devastated by that (and this would've been our anniversary month so you know...yeah, i’m still recovering emotionally) plus my noncreative jobs' have shifted and, while a good shift, it now requires a LOT more brain power. those stressors, good and bad, all stack and stack and take more and more mental, emotional, and other abilities away from your creative pursuits in order to funnel them towards, well, not falling apart -- which is a good thing! it is! not falling apart is generally good! but all that to say -- yeah! i know what you mean! it's a lot and it's super disheartening and exhausting to feel you can't even create!

what i've found, though, that works for me is finding the small small small wins and taking them. make them real. thought of a way to write a scene you've been stuck on? don't feel you gotta go write it all out right now because then you'll smash your head on your keyboard in a rage when it doesn't work right -- but DO jot down those thoughts real quick on a pad of paper. there! you did it, you did A Creative Thing today, you don't gotta do any more, there's 0 pressure. tomorrow you can take a picture of those notes and email them to yourself or otherwise digitize them. and the next day, hey, maybe you can review the notes and write down any other thoughts. etc. and eventually either those single small things will begin to add up until you find the flow again or by doing your One Little Creative Thing it sparks creating another and another and another until you putter out that day (and it's okay to putter out because hey, you did your ONE thing already!)

like shoot, i still haven't done A Creative Task I Need To Do but I did do a small thing to bring me one step closer to said task. one small thing is better than no thing, you know?

anyway, I think that's generally how I try to tackle them. do a little thing. even if that thing is getting out of your head -- journaling whatever thoughts are swirling around.

as for media i go to...it depends! right now i'm watching dear brother/oniisama e on tubi which is great because it is actually entertaining but also episodes keep you interested without aggressively spilling over so you wind up binging and then losing a day and feeling bad about it. so that's been a good sort of time keeper? usually i try to find something interesting on the various streaming platforms, else, i'll lean on some of my reliable comfort movies (you know, like Takarazuka's Elisabeth: Ai to Shi no Rondo because when I hear COMFORT MOVIE I think Japanese adaptation of Viennese musicals about Empress Elisabeth of Austria having severe depression! fun times!) hell, i rewatched The Ring the other day and was struck by how damn good that film still is, since while i am obsessed with the franchise i haven't rewatched it in yeeeeeears. sometimes it's just rewatching something you love but haven't watched in a bit.

i also have gotten into records if you've got a record player (or apparently now they make cassette players that enable you to convert to digital which is cool, the local record stores also sell beaucoup cassettes) which has lead to finding just random cool stuff as well as also forcing myself into a time lock: you can't exactly skip tracks in a record so you're stuck playing a side through, might as well doodle something or write a letter or knock out an easy task while it plays. it helps! because in part i know when the record ends i can get up and stop (or i can get up and flip it and keep on doing my little tasks but i have a guaranteed out.)

(can you tell for me it's been a lot of 'trick yourself into Doing An Art haha'? but hey it's working so far!)

actual media-wise, here's some things i've either gotten into recently that've been really slamming the 'wow not every day is a total shit and art is a thing that may be fun' endorphins button in my brain as well as some Go To Brain Likey stuff:

Perfect Obedience, a Spanish-language film I just got to see with friends on Sunday that was so so soooo good (warning it's about a priest who molests young seminarians and I mean young as in like...middle schooler): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmlZYsz5i7g

Rammstein's latest album, Zeit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-NUBR2kufw&list=OLAK5uy_kEcSS0IizYOnBcB1V0EpkFWVo87eAtFFw

Elisabeth Ai to Shi no Rondo, 2016 Cosmos Troupe version with English subtitles, which 20 bucks says will get copyright strike'd soon but if you like rock operas, ladies, and distracting pretty things, hey!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sj0XN3ibpiI

The German-language version of Elisabeth: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr8z-yyGqF8

The Hunchback of Notre Dame Musical Studio Recording, because look ok look....look....look i love patrick page: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_kxStpxNrNAtPKNFl8mgwFBUIQqLBBAjKQ

At one point last year I had Hadestown on repeat so uh yeah hope you like musicals because that apparently is my go-to, sorry: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kwg1mswuxzY

Oniisama e (found ep 1 on YT lol) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQbvy9Nr9fQ

Oingo Boingo's farewell concert is such a banger: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnEkodpneqI

idk man idk i basically throw a lot at the wall that is my brain and hope something sticks. i'm also someone who will listen to one thing on repeat forever OR open spotify and start digging through the algorithmic recommendations off of bands i like until i find something new that punches the feel good button of my brain. it's a fight between COMFORT COMFORT COMFORT FOOD U KNOW AND LOVE and IF I DONT GET A NEW STIMULI RIGHT NOW IWILL LITERALLY UNALIVE

so. yeah. lol. god i hope any of that helps.

#kmclaudereplies #kmclaudereplies to ask #pearlwhitetears

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