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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months

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Monsters Reimagined: Bandits

As a game of heroic fantasy that centers so primarily on combat, D&D is more often than not a game about righteous violence, which is why I spend so much time thinking about the targets of that violence. Every piece of media made by humans is a thing created from conscious or unconscious design, it’s saying something whether or not its creators intended it to do so.

Tolkien made his characters peaceloving and pastoral, and coded his embodiment of evil as powerhungry, warlike, and industrial. When d&d directly cribbed from Tolkien's work it purposely changed those enemies to be primitive tribespeople who were resentful of the riches the “civilized” races possessed. Was this intentional? None can say, but as a text d&d says something decidedly different than Tolkien.

That's why today I want to talk about bandits, the historical concept of being an “outlaw”, and how media uses crime to “un-person” certain classes of people in order to give heroes a target to beat up.

Tldr: despite presenting bandits as a generic threat, most d&d scenarios never go into detail about what causes bandits to exist, merely presuming the existence of outlaws up to no good that the heroes should feel no qualms about slaughtering. If your story is going to stand up to the scrutiny of your players however, you need to be aware of WHY these individuals have been driven to banditry, rather than defaulting to “they broke the law so they deserve what’s coming to them.”

I got to thinking about writing this post when playing a modded version of fallout 4, an npc offhndedly mentioned to me that raiders (the postapoc bandit rebrand) were too lazy to do any farming and it was good that I’d offed them by the dozens so that they wouldn’t make trouble for those that did.

That gave me pause, fallout takes place in an irradiated wasteland where folks struggle to survive but this mod was specifically about rebuilding infrastructure like farms and ensuring people had enough to get by. Lack of resources to go around was a specific justification for why raiders existed in the first place, but as the setting became more arable the mod-author had to create an excuse why the bandit’s didn’t give up their violent ways and start a nice little coop, settling on them being inherently lazy , dumb, and psychopathic.

This is exactly how d&d has historically painted most of its “monstrous humanoid” enemies. Because the game is ostensibly about combat the authors need to give you reasons why a peaceful solution is impossible, why the orcs, goblins, gnolls (and yes, bandits), can’t just integrate with the local town or find a nice stretch of wilderness to build their own settlement on and manage in accordance with their needs. They go so far in this justification that they end up (accidently or not) recreating a lot of IRL arguments for persecution and genocide.

Bandits are interesting because much like cultists, it’s a descriptor that’s used to unperson groups of characters who would traditionally be inside the “not ontologically evil” bubble that’s applied to d&d’s protagonists. Break the law or worship the wrong god says d&d and you’re just as worth killing as the mindless minions of darkness, your only purpose to serve as a target of the protagonist’s righteous violence.

The way we get around this self-justification pitfall and get back to our cool fantasy action game is to relentlessly question authority, not only inside the game but the authors too. We have to interrogate anyone who'd show us evil and direct our outrage a certain way because if we don't we end up with crusades, pogroms, and Qanon.

With that ethical pill out of the way, I thought I’d dive into a listing of different historical groups that we might call “Bandits” at one time or another and what worldbuilding conceits their existence necessitates.

Brigands: By and large the most common sort of “bandit” you’re going to see are former soldiers left over from wars, often with a social gap between them and the people they’re raiding that prevents reintegration ( IE: They’re from a foreign land and can’t speak the local tongue, their side lost and now they’re considered outlaws, they’re mercenaries who have been stiffed on their contract). Justifying why brigands are out brigading is as easy as asking yourself “What were the most recent conflicts in this region and who was fighting them?”. There’s also something to say about how a life of trauma and violence can be hard to leave even after the battle is over, which is why you historically tend to see lots of gangs and paramilitary groups pop up in the wake of conflict.

Raiders: fundamentally the thing that has caused cultures to raid eachother since the dawn of time is sacristy. When the threat of starvation looms it’s far easier to justify potentially throwing your life away if it means securing enough food to last you and those close to you through the next year/season/day. Raider cultures develop in biomes that don’t support steady agriculture, or in times where famine, war, climate change, or disease make the harvests unreliable. They tend to target neighboring cultures that DO have reliable harvests which is why you frequently see raiders emerging from “the barbaric frontier” to raid “civilization” that just so happens to occupy the space of a reliably fertile river valley. When thinking about including raiders in your story, consider what environmental forces have caused this most recent and previous raids, as well as consider how frequent raiding has shaped the targeted society. Frequent attacks by raiders is how we get walled palaces and warrior classes after all, so this shit is important.

Slavers: Just like raiding, most cultures have engaged in slavery at one point or another, which is a matter I get into here. While raiders taking captives is not uncommon, actively attacking people for slaves is something that starts occurring once you have a built up slave market, necessitating the existence of at least one or more hierarchical societies that need more disposable workers than then their lower class is capable of providing. The roman legion and its constant campaigns was the apparatus by which the imperium fed its insatiable need for cheap slave labor. Subsistence raiders generally don’t take slaves en masse unless they know somewhere to sell them, because if you’re having trouble feeding your own people you’re not going to capture more ( this is what d&d gets wrong about monstrous humanoids most of the time).

Tax Farmers: special mention to this underused classic, where gangs of toughs would bid to see who could collect money for government officials, and then proceed to ransack the realm looking to squeeze as much money out of the people as possible. This tends to happen in areas where the state apparatus is stretched too thin or is too lighthanded to have established enduring means of funding. Tax farmers are a great one-two punch for campaigns where you want your party to be set up against a corrupt authority: our heroes defeat the marauding bandits and then oh-no, turns out they were not only sanctioned by the government but backed by an influential political figure who you’ve just punched in the coinpurse. If tax farming exists it means the government is strong enough to need a yearly budget but not so established (at least in the local region) that it’s developed a reliably peaceful method of maintaining it.

Robber Baron: Though the term is now synonymous with ruthless industrialists, it originated from the practice of shortmidned petty gentry (barons and knights and counts and the like) going out to extort and even rob THEIR OWN LANDS out of a desire for personal enrichment/boredom. Schemes can range from using their troops to shake down those who pass through their domain to outright murdering their own peasants for sport because you haven’t gotten to fight in a war for a while. Just as any greed or violence minded noble can be a robber baron so it doesn’t take that much of a storytelling leap but I encourage you to channel all your landlord hate into this one.

Rebels: More than just simple outlaws, rebels have a particular cause they’re a part of (just or otherwise) that puts them at odds with the reigning authority. They could violently support a disfavoured political faction, be acting out against a law they think is unjust, or hoping to break away from the authority entirely. Though attacks against those figures of authority are to be expected, it’s all too common for rebels to go onto praying on common folk for the sake of the cause. To make a group of rebels worth having in your campaign pinpoint an issue that two groups of people with their own distinct interests could disagree on, and then ratchet up the tension. Rebels have to be able to beleive in a cause, so they have to have an argument that supports them.

Remnants: Like a hybrid of brigands, rebels, and taxfarmers, Remnants represent a previously legitimate system of authority that has since been replaced but not yet fully disappeared. This can happen either because the local authority has been replaced by something new (feudal nobles left out after a monarchy toppling revolution) or because it has faded entirely ( Colonial forces of an empire left to their own devices after the empire collapses). Remnants often sat at the top of social structures that had endured for generations and so still hold onto the ghost of power ( and the violence it can command) and the traditions that support it. Think about big changes that have happened in your world of late, are the remnants looking to overturn it? Win new privilege for themselves? Go overlooked by their new overlords?

Art

#monsters reimagined #bandits #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder #heavy topics #monsters reimagined

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hotchfiles · 1 month

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hotch "representing the bau" hotchner x activist!reader who won't stand for bullshit

not like actual conflict cause we know hotch is a very principled guy

more like

"shit i can't shitpost about overthrowing the government anymore cause my boyfriend is the government" vibes

you have no idea how deeply i feel about this i've actually posted about this because i'm very much against all cops and he's a literal fed ! but

you met in the most conventional of ways, which makes the whole thing even funnier to the outside person. a bar. you noticed him the moment he walked in, too downright gorgeous to be ignored, you stare at him completely shamelessly and get a few shy awkward smiles in return while he sips on his first drinks and talks to his companion, who you later learned was rossi.

he will find it later on that you're not really up for games, but it takes him by surprise when you approach him, card in hand with your phone number and the red stain of your red lips on the other side. he's immediately smitten, being flirted with so openly at his age does wonders for his ego and he makes sure to text you as soon as he gets back to his apartment.

the texting back and forth goes for hours, a lot of flirting, you're much more outspoken than he is, but still you find him hilarious, you will be telling your friends he's the funny one between you two (none of them will believe you, but you like having this only to yourself as well).

you talk movies, plays, music, favorite drinks and by 2am he asks you on a date. it's perfect from the get go. he's flattering, compliments your choice of clothes, says he likes the lipstick (the same you used on the card he is keeping safe on his wallet), takes you to a nice restaurant.

you tell him since you made the very first move, he would have to be the one to kiss you, he argues he sent you the first text so you should be the one to do it, in the end none of you know who took the first move, you're just sure you were the one to unlock your apartment door, stumbling along with him as you two passionately kissed.

it's not common for this to happen for him, he's too much of a gentleman, sleeping with someone on the first date isn't the gentlemanly thing to do, you're not attached to those norms so even if he tried to argue, your lips glued to his neck as you worked on his belt took his mind off of it.

it's not until the next morning that he really notices your place: the types of books you had, some revolutionary art pieces and it's then he realizes he has no idea what you do for a living. neither did he tell you he was a fbi agent. you two talked long hours and career wasn't even a topic (that may be why you caught his heart so fast).

you were a journalist, a writer, quite proficient and known for your progressive ideals and less than civil protests, so when you both realize the differences and the conflict it might bring, the first instinct was to pull away. forget the whole thing. it was only one date after all.

it's a matter of days for the realization that being apart won't happen, your thoughts are filled with him and his voice and the way he touched you and aaron can possibly detail every curve of your body and the way you smelled as if he was still in bed with you.

there's a mutual agreement of public discretion, you can't have your readers knowing you're falling for a fed, nor does the media needs any more reasons to write about the fbi.

his team knows though, and so does strauss, she had to be warned of the possibility of your name popping up in some lists. she reads half of your writings after that, highlighting stuff you should not be writing about (you won't listen to her on it) and the compromise you make is to keep all of your opposition material completely professional, no tweets, no tiktoks, nothing of the sort with jokes about overthrowing the government.

"did you... did you just cite and use one of stalin's books as resource here?" he asks, he's in your bed, blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt on, completely comfortable with you already, his reading glasses sit on top of nose like an old man and he furrows his brows, looking up at you. aaron's interested in what you write, he truly reads whatever you hand him just to learn more about you, he's not the one to try to censure any of it.

"well yeah... his writings are the easiest to comprehend on the topic." you shrug, not understanding the tone of his question at first.

"honey... you can't just... do you know how many... forget it. your editor will love it." his poor attempts to talk you down failing each time he looked over and saw your expectant eyes as his opinion is important to you. you smile at his defeat, taking the papers from his hand and throwing somewhere else in the room, his glasses go to the bedside table and soon you're kissing any of his worries away.

#lari writes sometimes #THIS GOT TO ME OKAY #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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cochineal-leviat · 5 months

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Sweet Dreams, Stardust

Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about In Stars and Time. But let me say first, wow, this game irreversibly changed my brain network. For anyone who is considering buying this game, please do. I don't think I've had a story touch my heart and mind like this for a long time. And that goes without mentioning the stunning visuals and entertaining battle system. (Be careful, though, because this game handles heavy topics regarding mental health)

If you're still hung up on buying it but are curious, there is a free demo on Steam if you like to try.

Thank you, @insertdisc5, for this gem of a game. I will be turning it around in my head like a microwaveable gourmet meal for months to come.

Technically the illustration has no spoilers (unless you count Siffrin having a good nap as a spoiler). But I will be going into heavy spoiler territory under the keep reading since I need to get my thoughts on this game off my chest.

And a monochrome version because you know me, I can't help myself. Even in black and white art pieces, I will put in some colour.

And a very tiny Loop

Initially, I was going to do a piece with a theatre stage and the cast (Siffrin, Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie and the head house maiden) taking a bow and finally leaving the spectacle to a life not controlled by a script and Wish Craft. But it was more fitting to put my feelings into creating a peaceful scene. Like, oof, I needed this very badly. I used sepia to make the painting warmer and added some more details like headcanons. The stars/colours might be remnants of Siffrin's transformation. Or maybe they were always there, but he never paid attention to it. Who knows.

I'm going to keep this brief. Otherwise, this post will take way too long.

I adore Siff's character. It's perfect for a game and narrative such as this. I saw a post not long ago on Tumblr going into depth about how their role as the rogue and not the hero works so well, so I won't linger on it for long. But how they would rather listen and fade into the background perfectly aligns with the player's experience of being the silent observer. (And the nodding off that changes into zoning out. It took me way too long to realise that small but essential narrative change) Oh, and the portrait change! It flew over my head until I was staring at the game menu. I was so confident Siffrin had a mischievous grin and not a frown. I always feel slightly surprised when the party asks for Siff's opinion or mentions that they have been too quiet. I felt Siffrin's excitement like my own when he got excited at finding clues to end the nightmare they were in. So I knew it would end up falling on their face because they were too excited. I just had this bad gut feeling the whole time during Act 4.

And oh boy, speaking off acts. I thought it would have been the standard 3. Boy, I was wrong. Whenever I felt I was nearing the end, I was thrown back at the start with more mysteries than answers. It made exploring the game intriguing since there is almost no information about it online (at the time of writing this post). There is the Discord, but I didn't know about it until I finished it.

This game has a lot of secrets, and I had a lot of fun uncovering them. The looping mechanic works so well in discovering little details and further leads. (even though my stubborn arse kept trying to do everything in the least amount of loops as possible. I thought the ending would be different if I exceeded a 100. My final number is 59. I am still not sure if I should be mad about it not being a rounded number like 60 or that I went over the 50 threshold)

However, it is a good thing that only some mysteries were solved. Like, what's up with colours in this world? Everyone sees in black and white, and the idea of shades and colours is only spoken of in scientific studies. They do exist and are not a part of the disaster that happened to Siffrin and their land. But there is definitely something mysterious about it. I adore how the dialogue reflects this, as the characters do not speak of shades or colours. Isabeau expresses surprise to see a streak of red colouring the sky in Act 6. It makes you think about how colour is perceived and how you describe it. (The lore inside this game is immaculate. I eat this shit up)

We never find out the name of the country north of Vanguard or what it was like. We can only infer that the beaches had black sand, with shells that shine like stars, high-reaching mountains, forests and plains. Which is vague and yet intriguing enough to make you wonder. It connected me to Siff and King because I also wanted to know. I was desperate to know. I needed to know. But in the end, we never will know because that is not the story's point. Siffrin even says in the game, that King should let go because he is hurting everyone and everything, including himself, in his desperation to preserve Vanguard. This is all the more ironic when Siff accidentally does the same with his family and the loops. I might gush more about what the country might be like and their technology in another post. This game makes me want to theorise. This is the first time I've wanted to write and post theories. ISAT fucked me up good.

Which, by the way, was genius. Siffrin and King are mirrors of each other. Siff does not have King's disastrous ambition, but their love/obsession will be the downfall of both of them. They have more than being each other's countrymen in common, and I imagine Siff despises that.

I love the fact King's question to Siffrin before the showdown was/could never be answered. Usually, in a game such as this, you must figure out how to solve everything, especially for the big bad. But that was never the goal. King is a delusional monster who will not stop before achieving his dream. He will raze everything to the ground and hurt many people because he must succeed. It is what he desires. Nay, the universe wills it. What a witless excuse that can easily be made into someone's truth. Especially to somebody who is driven mad with grief.

How King's character's done is so excellent. Because, at first, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was just the big bad, and I felt nothing much but the glory of victory when Siffrin outsmarted him by looping and making sure Mirabelle learned the shield spell that would protect the party from freezing in time. But each time you fight him, you get more frustrated until Siff figures that talking to him might be fruitful. It does, but unfortunately, you and Siffrin leave yourself emotionally and mentally vulnerable. King stops being a one-dimensional villain and changes into an actual person. Someone you can sympathise with and possibly mend peace with without fighting. You and Siffrin opened his heart for a kindred spirit and got hurt.

King stopped being a monster and became human. And while monsters are wretched, humans have intent behind their cruelty. I felt so betrayed, so angry, but most of all - terrified. I felt it when Siffrin spiralled when fighting King again after their actions caused such a catastrophic turn of events for Bonnie. Every time after that, the fight with King felt tense and nerve-wracking in a dreadful way. Because even victory could not soothe the dread I felt. (The track 'It's finally over" will forever haunt me. I already feel anxious whenever it cycles to that when I listen to the playlist)

He was not, however, the final villain, even though everything that happened was King's fault. You were always your greatest enemy (or Siffrin in this case, since you are supposed to be Siffrin). I never could have guessed that the whole reason why Siffrin could not escape the loops was because Siff accidentally wished to never let go of their friends. This reminds me of Modaka Magica, where (spoilers for the OG anime) Homura goes back in time so much that the universe ties itself around Modoka, making her a waiting egg whose wish and magic will be massive when she becomes a magical girl. The one thing Homura was trying to prevent.

(Siffrin and Homura are identical in that sense. Shy characters who are loyal to a fault but are rendered into something cold, bitter and cutting by their traumatic experiences. Only Siff has people who care about them and would do anything to save him, too, whereas Homura never lets go, making the world a worse place to live in. Yes, I did go into doomed Yuri. That anime lived in my mind rent-free in my mind for years)

The Head House-maiden not being the villain was also a great touch. I am used to the apparent antagonist turning out not to be the big bad and the trusted, friendly character ending up being the evil one. Twist villains no longer work when everyone expects them to be villains.

That was my biggest theory as I played. The second biggest being that Loop is someone who enjoys Siffrin's suffering. I am so glad that was also not the case. They are apathetic but not cruel. Never intentionally, anyway. They were like the player, urging Siffrin to go deeper into the mystery to solve it. Ultimately, I chose and made cold and cruel decisions simply because I wanted to see what would happen. So yeah, I warmed up to this cosmic star thing as the game went on and even started trusting them. Act 5 really is a punch in the gut. I am so sorry, Loop. Thank you for coming through in the end.

Oh man, this is so long, and I haven't even gone into the main cast. I will leave that for another post. They are such great characters, as are the people of Dormant and the House. (Don't think I don't see the wordplay in this game. Very clever)

Going into this game completely blind was the best experience I could have had. I felt anxious, happy and scared so severely that my neurons were rearranged. I don't know if there are more endings (aside from the obvious action of attacking Odile in the True(?) ending of the game), but I am taking a break from it to make art and write for this game before I dive back into despair-o-land.

Anywho, thank you for coming this far and reading my ramblings. Have a fantastic day or evening further! o(*'▽`*)ブ

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blueclownsworld · 3 months

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"I do care." — Levi Ackerman x gn reader

Content & possible warnings: cold Levi, gender neutral reader, Erwin as Levi's friend, arguing & insults (not a lot), one-sided love until it isn't, slight angst (ends on a positive note), fluff

Plot: Levi loves you, yet he pushes you away due to fear of losing you.

Author's note: I don't have a lot of experience on the field of fanfics so constructive criticism is welcomed, suggestions as well (check my pinned post for details). Also this was written at night so it's not full potential but I had to write something jsjsjsjsjs

(I might make a part 2, depending on how people like this one.)

"Do you ever shut up?" blunt question interrupted your passionate rambling.

"And are you ever friendly?" you asked as visible frown formed on your face. He was always like this, yet you never got used to it. He seemed to be even colder around you than the others, which made no sense to you.

"Don't get cozy with me. I'm still your captain." his eyes narrowed as he noticed frown on your face. However, it didn't make a difference to his unfriendly behaviour.

"Sorry, captain", you spit out his title like it was poison, causing his eyes to narrow further in annoyance.

"Whatever. get out, brat", he turned away from you, focusing on the pile of papers on his desk again. He payed no attention to your presence anymore, it didn't matter to him.

Once again you felt small sting in your heart. It never really stopped hurting, even though he treated you like this all the time. ~

Except..

"Don't forget your jacket, idiot." Levi hissed at you and placed a jacket over your shoulders. ~

It was past midnight, but you couldn't get sleep and decided to light up a candle to read instead. Not a long after you heard sharp knock on your door, following with Levi's usual cold tone: "I expect my soldiers to take care of themselves. So, why are you not asleep?" ~

You were excitedly talking about a book you had read earlier, when you took a glance at him. He looked more bored than usual, so you decided to stop talking. "Why'd you stop?" his eyes snapped back at you, brows furrowing. ~

It was the small moments that made your heart flutter and stopped you from losing hope. This made loving him really painful, you never knew when he would act like he hated you and when you would get proof that he actually cared.

Today was one of those days when it seemed like the mere existence of yours in the same room as him was insufferable to him. So you left. ~

Oh, if he only knew of the tears you shed because of him. He never really reciprocated your feelings, but he didn't let you go either. You were attached to him by a string of hope, yet that was all you would ever get. Or so it seemed. ~

At Erwin's office:

"Levi. You should tell them before it's too late", Erwin said with that strict but friendly tone of his. He had noticed how Levi was denying his feelings towards you.

"What do you know about that?" Levi crossed his arms, clearly not appreciating his friend's advice.

"I know how you look at them when you think that no one notices. And I've seen the small gestures you make", Erwin explained calmly, not willing to drop the subject.

"If you don't tell them, you'll have to live with the regret once they're in love with someone else, or worse."

"Precisely why I don't tell them. I don't need to watch someone I love die in front of me anymore", Levi answered with bittersweet voice and stared at the floor.

"You love them, wether you admit it or not. Wouldn't it be nicer to live with the memories of them, rather than with the regret of not being brave enough to admit your feelings?" Erwin asked while keeping his gaze on Levi. He didn't enjoy seeing his friend in a difficult situation like this.

"You make it sound like I am a coward", Levi huffed, even though he couldn't deny Erwin's words did make sense.

"Maybe you are", Erwin hummed in response, causing Levi to throw daggers at him with his gaze. ~

Later:

It was late in the evening and you were getting ready for bed, still thinking of Levi and his changing behaviours. Maybe you should talk to him about it, tell him to stop messing with you. Or would that be seen as being disrespectful towards your captain? He would definitely complain about it.

This train of thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar knock on the door. "May I come in?"

It was Levi, and your heartbeat accelerated from the tone of his voice. It was softer than usual, something wasn't right.

You open the door to stare at him in disbelief, meeting his eyes.

"You weren't sleeping, right?" he asks and shifts back to the cold demeanor. Perhaps you misheard his earlier tone.

"No.. I wasn't", you answer slowly, still staring at him. The situation was uncomfortable.

"No one told that your staring is weird? Or do I have something on my face?" Levi asks with dry voice, brows furrowing.

"No, I just.. Why are you here?" you couldn't help but to wonder why was he there, since most of the time he didn't voluntarily seek your company.

"Our earlier conversation ended on a bad note", he explains.

'Ended on a bad note'? When did he ever care of being rude towards you or ending conversations with insults? Something was seriously not right.

"I didn't think you cared of that", you blurt out a bit too harshly.

Levi's expression turns into slight frown. Of course he would have known you would think that, considering how harsh his behaviour towards you often were. Still, it managed to unpleasantly surprise him.

"I do care."

Three words you never expected to hear from him. Three words that made your eyes widen in shock, had you misheard?

"You do?" was all you managed to let out. Your question held more weight that the words told, yet he understood that.

"I do."

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #aot levi ackerman #levi ackerman aot #aot levi #levi aot #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman angst

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bizarrelittlemew · 2 months

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i was hoping to make a post like this under happier circumstances, but here goes.

as some of you know, everything with the cancellation and renewal campaign has happened right on top of the worst part of my mom's cancer treatment (plus the show was cancelled on my actual birthday 💀). i won't go into details, but it's been tough. lots of ups and downs, mostly downs, luckily ending (for now) on as much of an up as circumstances allow. the whole thing has been weirdly tied to the cancellation for me, kind of amplifying every feeling. the grief got mixed up, and there was so much of it - mourning the loss of the kind of future i thought i'd have with my mother and the time we might not get, mourning the end of a show that means so much to me and is such a big part of my life. different types of grief, sure, and of different magnitudes, but in one big ugly swirl. i sort of had a breakdown right at the start of february, and it was because of news about my mom, but it morphed into my brain telling me everything i'd ever written was shit and wanting to delete it all. stuff like that, spilling over.

anyway. i was holding off on writing this post to see if the show got picked up by someone else. but i still want to say it. because what also spilled over was the support and community from this fandom, and being in this space (despite the rough times and high emotions) helped me through it, because of all of you here. whether we talk regularly, or you left a comforting reply or simply a like on one of my posts about having a hard time (i tried to keep them few), or wrote a nice comment on a fic, or said something funny or nice or insightful in the tags of a gifset, or was active here (or on twt) in any way, talking/sharing/creating stuff about the show - THANK YOU.

you all helped me through all the ups and downs, and i am so grateful. thank you for being here, listening, distracting, helping me feel some joy despite the horrors. i love you and i love this incredible show and all it has brought and will continue to bring and inspire, and although it should go without saying, i'm not going anywhere. just do me a favor and give yourself a big ol' hug from me, and know that you made a difference for some random guy on the internet (but in reality for many more, and for this fandom as a whole, just by being here and being you) 💕

#🐭📓#oh wow this got long #i grieved so much in january and never truly got my hopes up even though i of course wished something would happen #that the second “cancellation” message did not hit me as hard as it did for others - like i'd already absorbed that reality #but no matter what. all the effort was worth it - even for just the slightest chance of renewal and showing the cast and crew all the love #and seeing the fandom rally and all the fun moments we found along the way in a shitty situation none of us wished to be in #and for the record - i don't think this means there is no possibility of anything happening in the future #i just think the current/immediate negotiations fell through due to the current streaming landscape #you never know what can happen even if nothing happens for years #it's just that it's not happening right now and we shouldn't be at the edge of our seats. but instead settle into long term fandom mode #instead of constant campaign mode. keep showing all our love for the show and letting it inspire us and move us #and keep supporting the cast and crew in their next works #there is so much more to come from the same creative minds #and i for one am looking forward to experiencing it with you all 💗#ok i will stop rambling now skdjfhdjks

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writingquestionsanswered · 7 months

Text

How Much World Building is Too Much?

Anonymous asked: This question is on behalf of my cousin who came to me for advice. When he has an idea, he writes the most detailed worldbuilding EVER, designs the characters and has a general idea of how the story will go, but then when he starts writing he does maybe 2 chapters and it dies. I, on the other hand, do ZERO worldbuilding ahead of time (I don't need much) and end up finishing 80% of what I start out to write. How do you know how much worldbuilding is enough? How do you keep from spending so much time planning that by the time you get to writing, you don't know where you're going with the actual story? I want to help him but our styles are so different, I don't know where to start.💔

(Ask edited for length...)

I identify with your cousin a lot, because this is often how my stories go. I'm first inspired by a place, or the idea of a place, and everything sort of grows out from there. In my early days, I would also pour everything into world building and character creation, only to find myself falling flat with the story. And a big part of that, I learned, was that I didn't really understand how stories worked. It was easy to build a world and set up characters, but since I didn't understand story structure, I didn't understand how to flesh out the nugget of a story idea I had to go with that setting.

So, one thing you might do is try to get a feel for where your cousin is in that respect. You can start by asking pointed questions about the potential plot, and if he doesn't have answers already, it will help guide him in that direction. Some questions I would ask:

1 - Who is your protagonist? What is their "normal world" life like before things are turned upside down with the inciting incident?

2 - Who and what is important to your protagonist? (Stakes)

3 - What past experiences have led to them being who they are now?

4 - What needs to change about your protagonist's life, beliefs, or values?

5 - What happens to turn your protagonist's world upside down? (Inciting incident) Who (or what) causes this to happen? (Antagonistic force)

6 - How does this affect your protagonist specifically, and what goal do they decide to pursue in order to resolve the problem?

7 - What steps does your protagonist plan to take in order to reach their goal? What knowledge, skills, resources, or help must they acquire in order to achieve their goal?

8 - What obstacles does the antagonistic force create that the protagonist must overcome on their way to the goal?

9 - How do the events of the story help to change your protagonist's life circumstances, beliefs, or values for better or worse? How will they change by the end of the story?

10 - How does your protagonist face off against the antagonistic force, attempting to defeat them once and for all in order to reach their goal? Are they successful? What is the aftermath and how is the character's world/life changed--for better or worse--as a result of these events?

If your cousin can answer these questions, they'll have a reasonably well fleshed out plot that should help carry them through the story. How little or much planning of the plot ahead of time they need is something they'll need to discover over time, but if the above isn't enough to help them get through the story, they might want to go back and flesh out the specific plot points. You can point them in the direction of my post Creating a Detailed Story Outline, which suggest several different story structure templates they can look at to help them coax out the specific plot points of their story. And, bear in mind that story structure templates do not have to be followed exactly. They're just a guide to help you flesh out the story. Many writers like to combine different elements of different plot structures as a loose guide as they write their stories.

I hope this helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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howtofightwrite · 8 months

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I'm making a monster-hunting college student who is going in to journalism. I'm looking for monsters that good for starters to learn to fight and magic

That's, kinda, your job.

The thing about monsters is that you have a lot of leeway in determining how dangerous they are. We got a question, years ago, from someone asking, “who would win, a vampire or werewolf?” And the answer, as with yours is, it depends on your setting's rules.

You create your world, and that includes populating it with whatever monsters you want to include. You determine how powerful they are, how dangerous they are, how they appear, what they can do, and all the other important details that shape your world.

More than that, there's a lot of merit to cutting off the safe on-ramp. I mean, your character might go in with the intention of going after something that's easy to manage, only to find themselves dealing with something that is far more dangerous than they were prepared for. For example: Basic ghost hunting, only instead they find themselves being stalked by a powerful revenant of some variety (maybe a vampire, or ghoul, maybe something more exotic.) They may be in the woods investigating something benign, only to find themselves dealing with multiple cryptids stalking them. The only real limitation here is finding a hook you like to get your characters somewhere profoundly unsafe.

At the risk of going into a weird tangent, there's a fundamental difference between RPG encounter design and narrative structure, where there really shouldn't be. (So, this is almost more advice for GMs and DMs, rather than writing advice.) When you're setting up a story for your players, you want them to face, “level appropriate,” threats. The reasoning is pretty simple, total party kills, and players being smeared across the walls by some monster, like a toddler who just discovered an open jar of tomato sauce isn't fun.

In writing, you want those threats that feel completely out of your characters' depth. That jar of tomato sauce, and the prospect of what the toddler will do to your characters is very compelling for the audience.

The irony in this is, as a DM, you should be working to present that kind of fear to your players, even if you're not throwing them against foes that they have no chance of defeating. Just because you're putting the characters under threat, doesn't mean you're going to mercilessly snuff them out, that's what you have expendable NPCs for. If you can learn to do this well, it will result in a much happier group of players when their characters escape with their lives.

If that didn't seem relevant, then take this empty jar and remember that tossing your characters in the deep end will work just fine.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#how to fight write #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #starke answers

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blacktabbygames · 11 months

Note

Good mornighternoon. Do you have any advice on making writing and/or coding branching dialogue less confusing?

It's always going to be confusing and difficult to keep track of branching, but here's some things that I think have helped. Gonna break this down into a few sections to make it a little easier to follow.

Foundations and Research

So much practice for me came from being obsessed with Bioware games growing up, especially Dragon Age and Mass Effect — just keeping track of complicated branching world states in complex games you already enjoy is extremely good exercise, and the best way to get better at thinking about a medium is to consume and discuss things in that medium.

Building on that, I think that the best media to take a deep dive into to improve your own craft is something that you really like, but that feels like it missed the mark in a few areas that are important to you. Again, revisiting Mass Effect and Dragon Age, I absolutely loved the way that those games set up challenging decisions, but was frustrated at how easy it was to circumvent those choices entirely. By the time Abby and I started work on Scarlet Hollow, I feel like I had a strong foundation from obsessively consuming those works and the two of us discussing at length how we wanted to handle branching compared to games we've enjoyed in the past.

The Big Picture

The bigger your project, the more important it is to have intentionality to your choices. With both Scarlet Hollow and Slay the Princess, we decided on the major themes of the story and wrote down and outlined all of our Big Plot Points before we wrote a word of the actual script.

It can also help to come up with Rules for your piece that fit within your outline. These aren't necessarily ever words that are directly communicated in the game, but rather something for you to personally follow (and to break, on occasion). To give some examples of rules we've come up with for Scarlet Hollow: Every chapter must have a "major" decision with seemingly only bad outcomes towards the end. Each of these decisions must have a secret "out" mapped to a trait. Each trait gets exactly one out. Every episode must contain at least one decision where the focus is the player's relationship with Tabitha. The story must come back together in a recognizable structure after a split. As an extension of that last point, subsequent playthroughs must feel both Similar and Different. Again, these aren't hard and fast rules, and one of the joys of writing is knowing which rules you should break and when you can break them. (So if you're reading this post and trying to use it to theorize about future plot developments, good luck!)

Having a finished outline and rules are important because then, as you work on the minutiae, you'll already have a strong framework to build around. Suddenly, when you're crafting decisions and thinking about cascading consequences, you're not just branching out into an infinite void: instead, you're actively working to draw everything into a set of predetermined thematic and structural points.

The Little Details

When it's time to write your script, it's very important to remain focused in the moment — if you think too long about the scale of a branching narrative and the work it requires, you'll find yourself easily overwhelmed. Just work on one menu at a time in one scene at a time, and you'll find a way to keep things straight and to get it done.

When writing a menu, define your player's options with intent. What are the things (within reason) that you would want to do in a scene? What emotional range do you want to grant the player? Do two options cover the same intent and emotionality? If so, condense them, and keep the option that's more fun.

Emotionality is very important here, so I want to take an extra line to emphasize it. Ask yourself, "what are the different reactions a player might have to this, emotionally" and find a way to let them express those emotions. Letting them express those emotions doesn't always mean you let the *action* behind those emotions work — it's more about acknowledging those feelings and letting them bake into the narrative.

Bolding this one because it's very important track everything. A lot of the callbacks and references in Scarlet Hollow aren't actually pre-planned — we just make sure to track most player decisions so if we realize we want to make a reference to something that might have happened, there's already a variable in place for it. An example of this that comes to mind is the "dead moms" callback in Episode 4, which we didn't plan in advance, but when we realized how right that callback was for that scene, we already had that information tracked.

I think I accidentally talked about a lot of stuff outside the scope of your question, but narrative design is such an interesting subject and I like talking about it. Hopefully this is helpful!

#scarlet hollow #slay the princess #narrative design #writing #game #game design #game writing

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frownyalfred · 10 months

Note

*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya

okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.

So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.

A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.

A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)

ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”

Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?

This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!

It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.

What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.

I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.

So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.

PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.

I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.

Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.

#ptsd #trauma tw #ptsd tw #death tw #bruce wayne #dc #batman #myfic #theresurrectionist #batfamily #batfamily meta #bruce wayne meta #batman meta #asks

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Text

MCU Characters Having a Crush

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Loki, Natasha Romanoff, Stephen Strange, Kate Bishop, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Shang-Chi x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, crushes, dating, confessions, hand holding, gentle kisses, pining

A/N: The MCU has so many character to be crushing on, I can't possibly write them all in one post. But I might write a bunch of different ones every time I do one of these.

Steve, being the gentleman that he is, would approach you careful, and just a little shy at first, strike up a conversation. He wouldn't let you know he's been crushing on your right away, he'd just want to talk to you, at times leaving you feeling like he's keeping you at a bit of an arms length, but then he'd open up to you little by little, smiling at you with that million dollar smile. He'd bring you chocolate, or other types of sweets, little gifts that signal his affection for you, ask you out to dance and slide his arm around your waist, gently rubbing your hip.

Like Steve, Bucky is a little old fashioned. He'd probably meet you at a bar or a dance club and offer you a drink, feeling out what it's like in your company. He wouldn't give you his number right away but rather ask to meet at the same place at a given time. If you show up, great, he'd make sure to treat you right, if you don't then he'd still wait a bit before going on with his night. He'd always keep eye contact with you while you talked, giving you not so subtle, knowing looks, his human hand slowly reaching for yours across the table, before he intertwines his fingers with yours.

Sam would be the absolute sweetest. However he'd pine for a while before approaching you. When ever he talks to you though he'd listen to your every word, his eyes lighting up when ever you laugh at one of his jokes. Since becoming the new Captain America he has a bit less time on his hands but tries to keep in contact with you since you developed a good relationship since you've known him. Sometimes you'd be the first one he calls after a mission, letting you know how it went and all the exciting details. You actually think you're gonna have to be the one who needs to ask him on a date before he surprises you with a boat ride and dinner where he asks you to officially go out with him.

Loki is very flirty and charming right off the bat, making it a little hard to tell when he's being serious about the relationship. Then again this is Loki so he takes a while to trust you enough to open his heart to you fully. Most of the time he teases you a lot, loving your reactions, he also shows off when he's in front of you, which you notice but keep indulging the mischievous god anyway. He'd entertain you with various stories from his long life, occasionally kissing your cheek. His kisses get more and more frequent, until one day he whispers he likes you as he pulls away.

As someone who is taught to use her charm on her targets you have a hard time telling if Natasha is actually taking a liking to you or if you're somehow her new target. Yet there's something about the way she looks at you that makes you not even care. Not that Natasha would ever hurt you of course. Whenever she sees you she holds your gaze just a little more than needed, she always buys you a drink, her hand always slipping into yours when you walk together. She's not hiding her affection for you, even though she thinks she should. She texts and calls you a lot, saying how hearing you always calms her after a mission, which makes your stomach do flips every time.

Strange is a very stubborn man. He's also not the one to let his crush be knows easily. At least that's the plan. His cloak however keeps dragging him in your direction, encouraging him to talk to you. It's actually really funny to watch, but you decide to have mercy on the sorcerer and approach him yourself. He keeps his walls up for some time, still recovering from his last heart break, yet he can't deny that he's starting to feel something every time he sees you. He's a doctor, he knows the signs well. He finally manages to work up the nerve to walk up to you and buy you a drink, asking if you'd like to experience a bit of magic in your life. It's a bad pick up line, but it makes you laugh, and that's good enough for now.

Kate is a complete mess around you. She's awkward and falls over her words when she talks to you, no matter how much she tries to keep her cool. There's always a bashful, dopey smile on her face whenever you talk to her. She'd ask you out for coffee while you're drinking coffee, but how can you say no to another cup, especially when someone as adorable as Kate is offering to buy it. She asks you to come watch her archery competitions, only for you to tell her that you've seen quite a few of them already and you think she looks really cool when she's shooting her targets. Another smile breaks across her face as you give her your number. You don't even get home before you get a text asking you if you're free tomorrow night.

Tony is used to people falling head over heels for him, not the other way around. Still he's not about to let you be the one who got away, he's very forward with his intentions, asking you out for dinner and drinks, anywhere you want. He teases you all through the date, enjoying your flustered reactions. At the end of the date he'd kiss your cheek, one kiss after the other, pausing before he kisses your lips. This was the first time he ever hesitated with a kiss, which for him only serves to confirm his theory that he's got it bad for you. You're not just someone who he wants to take to bed and never call again, you're someone who he wants to wake up to every morning.

Peter is a little shy around you, he keeps looking across the room, everting his eyes but not bothering to hide his smile when you look back at him. He'd start offering to walk to and from school with you, which wasn't unusual since you've shared quite a few classes by now. He offers to be partners on science projects, he cracks jokes when he notices you're sad, is more than happy to come over to your dorm room if you wanna talk in private, and the two of you begin to eat lunch together more and more often. He jokes about being a friendly neighbor, even though you're not really neighbors, except sometimes in a few classes. He passes you little notes during class, some helpful some just cute, some with a few too many hearts as your relationship begin to deepen.

Shang is the first person to talk to you when you begin working at the hotel, offering to show you the ropes as it were. He's very easy and fun to talk to so naturally you can't resist when he asks you to hang out with him and Katy after work. Katy being the best friend that she is notices how Shang starts to look at you the more time you spend together. She gives him that extra push to finally ask you out on a real date, but he tries to play it off as just friends going out at first in case it doesn't end well. However when you part ways he's more than happy to get a text asking if he's free to go to the movies on the weekend.

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oh-snapperss · 1 year

Note

"look at the moon.." + ethubs for the writing prompts 👀?

hi leo!! oops i universe au coded this. my bad!

"look at the moon" + ethubs (x)

note: this is part of the universe au that i share with @team-clockers! you can find the rest of the posted parts of the au here.

Words: 882

CW: none!

------------------------------------------------------------

“Bdubs, does the moon look big to you?”

“Heh?” Bdubs squints suspiciously over at Etho, who’s paused his work to stare over at the horizon with squinted eyes. The sun is just barely down, already past Bdubs’ bedtime–not that he really minded, not this once. They’d spent most the day plotting out their horse course, and honestly, Bdubs had struggled to sleep ever since they’d returned from last life. Call him crazy, call him weak–every time his eyes closed, his side was pierced by arrows, or hot air rushed by his face as he fell towards the netherrack, or the scream of the wither shattered his focus before agony tore through him and–

Yeah, maybe Bdubs wasn’t so timely on his sleeping habits. But nobody needed to know that! Five minutes here or there, nobody would ever notice. And here, now, when he had only just barely gotten to speak to Etho since returning from the game? He wasn’t about to complain about being up later… too much.

Even so, Etho’s starry eyes seem clouded, more so than normal, and his eyebrows are pinched together. Bdubs has to squint to even make that out, given the setting sun is just behind Etho’s head like some sort of strange, blinding halo. Hues of pink and orange streak out behind him, as the sunset starts to fade.

“The moon, Bdubs. Look at the moon.” Etho repeats, and this time Bdubs does so with a frown and a roll of his eyes. Etho has always been attached to the stars, dragging Bdubs out at the most ungodly of hours to point out new constellations forming, or older ones fading. (“Look, see? New stars there. And there. And one gone over there… wonder which world it was.”)

The moon is a normal size.

…or….

He tilts his head, studying each of the craters on its surface with careful consideration, trying to discern what might be different. A chill runs between his shoulder blades and he spins on his heel to face Etho again, somewhat glad the sun is below the hills now, so it won’t hurt to look at Etho. A few red streaks remain, reminiscent of the sky in the game, after so much blood had been spilt that the very sky seemed to be filled with it–

The moon. Look at the moon. Think about the moon.

“What about it?” …the craters. He shouldn’t be able to see the craters in such careful detail. “Seems normal to me!” He forces a grin, straightens his back as if to shake off the shivers racing up and down his spine.

“Seems big, doesn’t it?” Etho’s head is tilted too, eyes no longer squinted, but rather focused on the moon now behind Bdubs. This time of night, Bdubs never can tell which of the stars are reflected in Etho’s eyes, or which are there already. Maybe there’s no difference.

This time, when Bdubs cranes his head around to glance at it, he knows Etho is right. “Pshh, you’re bein’ ridiculous!” Don’t look at the moon. Don’t think about the moon. “It’s just a moon!”

“I know, but-”

“But it’s late, Etho. I gotta sleep!” Sleep is pronounced like shreep. Not because he needs to or thinks it should be, or really even wants to, but just–he doesn’t want to think about something else going wrong, not now, not when he’s only just gotten his Etho back and not when he can’t even get through a night without the nightmares or–

Etho’s gaze stays transfixed on the moon for a few moments more, but he drops it with a shake of his head to finally, finally catch Bdubs’ eyes. “I know, I know… king of sleep can’t be up late, right?”

“That’s right!” Bdubs puffs his chest out. There’s no pride or feeling in it. “King of sleep, you know I gotta, baby!”

Etho laughs, and it’s fuller than any breath of air Bdubs has taken the last few minutes. “Riiiight, of course, c’mon–” He holds his hand out, and Bdubs’ breath catches. “Wanna just sleep out here since it’s late? I think I’ve got a bed–”

“Yes!” Bdubs shocks himself with his enthusiasm, quickly trying to dial it back. “I mean, yeah, it’s late, I got a bed on me too, could stay here-”

Etho’s eyebrows aren’t so knitted together anymore, instead squinting at him with what Bdubs knows is one of those heartstopping smiles he hasn’t seen since the games. Even with the mask, he can tell. “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Bdubs breathes out, eyes wide. He places his bed (and if it isn’t facing the moon, who’s gonna say anything?) and Etho places his own right next, below the stars. There’s no roof, or anything, but for once, Bdubs couldn’t care less.

“It better not rain,” he comments anyways, as if he wouldn’t get soaked a thousand times if it meant Etho would stay.

“It won’t.” Etho responds easily, some kind of authority in his voice, and somehow… Bdubs believes him.

Perks of being the first player, he figures.

And when Etho tugs the old green blanket over them both, and pulls Bdubs as close as he’d been held in the games, Bdubs knows–

They’re gonna be okay.

(And the moon isn’t big.)

#ethubs #hermitshipping #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #etho #bdubs #the way i wrote this in thirty minutes flat #jesus christ i think i was possessed #help #my fics #son of stars au #hermitcraft

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maddstermind · 7 months

Text

Hey there, howdy, hello! Welcome to my writeblr that I am going to try real hard to be active on!

I'm Madd, they/them, and while I might not post it all here, I am a very active writer hoping for publication in the near future! I'm hoping to become part of the community, so feel free to tag me in things/shoot me asks/anything of the sort!! I'd love more writer friends :>

(Also, this is a sideblog! My main is warriorblood1, so if you get random follows/likes from that account, that's me!)

Want to know more details? Keep reading!

What do you write? I write all kinds of things! I have ideas in honestly too many genres and whatnot at this point, and I hope to someday write them all!

Right now, however, I have two main focuses: spooky short stories, and a novel series! (Though I do have a couple other novel things.)

Tell me about the short stories. My short stories tend to be 3k to 5k on average, and most wind up being horror or horror-adjacent. I tend to describe them as being "Twilight Zone-esque," but most would fit as being called gothic horror.

I have previously published some short stories, but my full legal name is on them so I hesitate to link them here. Regardless, I hope to publish a collection sometime soon!

Tell me about the novel series. Auberon Academy is a four-novel series told through a rotating POV of four main characters. It is a fantasy setting (though a bit more modern fantasy; more or less 1950s tech-wise), but the plot is more of a mystery/thriller.

I'm querying the first novel and have the first draft of the second one finished, and am now starting to draft the third book! You can learn more about the first book, Manifestations and the Missing, here in this funny slideshow I made. Update: Here's a slideshow for book two, In Pursuit of Knowledge!

What do you do besides writing? Not much. Just kidding.

I'm bad at video games, but I love to play them. A favorite hobby of mine is tabletop role-playing games, my favorites being Call of Cthulhu, Blackbirds, Dungeons & Dragons, and Vampire: The Masquerade! I also love to draw, and several of my story ideas are actually comics!

But lets be honest. Torturing my characters (canonically or otherwise) is my favorite thing to do. What kind of writer would I be if I said anything different?

How do you tag things?

General writing: #madd writing

Prompts: #prompt response

Tag games: #tag game

Ask games: #ask game

Asks: #questions

Resources: #holding

Short story work: #short story

Novel work: #novel work

Auberon Academy-specifc: #boberon

Soulbearer-specific: #sogbog

DIIE-specific: #DIIE

Conspiracy Gang-specific: #nerdy prudes

My art: #madd doodles

Other writeblr-related things: #writeblr stuff

Also, this post has the list of character tags for Auberon!

I'll also try to tag anything that feels like it should warrant a trigger warning!

Anything else to note? I'm very nervous about posting my work to Tumblr (fear of theft really gets to you), but I'm trying to overcome it. That being said, you might not see too terribly much of it here - if you're really interested, please reach out to me! I'd most likely be happy to share more on a more private level.

Also, I have ADHD! I tend to hyperfixate on my own work (which is a nightmare but also useful), but if you're ever confused by something. That's probably why.

Thanks for being here, y'all!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original writing #creative writing #writeblr intro #writeblr stuff #i hope this is decent lmao

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annaraebananawriter · 1 year

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Hello My Old Heart

Hello everyone!! I give you, as promised, Hello My Old Heart, the winner of the poll. This is based off that one ask Calcium_Cat got about what if OSD!Dream and OSDiff!Dream met. I was immediatly taken in my angst of it all and knew I had to write about it.

Now, it might not be entirely in character, as I did nothing more than skim the original sources to double check things, but I think it turned out well regardless. I did take some inspiration for Coraline and Alice Through the Looking Glass, which you will see. But that’s just more so as an explain for why these two are meeting in the first place.

I don’t really have much to say, really! So I guess this is it! Happy reading!!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters: (One Small Dream) Dream (Who belongs to @calcium-cat), (One Small Difference) Dream, and background (One Small Difference) Nightmare and background (One Small Difference) Cross (Who belong to @warriorstale001)

Warnings: Very vague implied/referenced torture, and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: “Based off of this post from Tumblr. Or: What happens when OSD!Dream and OSDiff!Dream meet? Let's find out. (UTMV, One Small Dream belongs to Calcium_Cat and One Small Difference belongs to Warriorstale001, Dream sans Centric)”

Word Count: 3382

~oOo~

Dream was playing hide and seek with Crossy and Kiki when he found the mirror.

He admits to breaking the rule of hiding in the dungeons. But he really wanted to up the playing field. Crossy and Kiki always seemed to find the most wild places to hide and he wanted to be the one with the best hiding place for once. They already knew every spot on the main floor, though, and upstairs were their bedrooms and it was boring to hide in bedrooms. There were only so many places there.

So, while there was a rule they followed about not hiding in the dungeons, it wasn’t really enforced too much. And they wouldn’t think to check there until they’ve run out of places to check. It’ll be fun. He’s sure of it. They’ll enjoy the challenge.

And it’s not like they wouldn’t find him. They always found him. It’ll just take longer than it has before, that’s all. It’ll be fine.

Of course, this was all before he found the mirror.

In the dungeons, there was a row of cells. They never got used much. Past them, there were a few rooms they used as storage. It was out of the way. Nobody really went down there unless they really needed something. It was perfect. Dream slips inside and has to pause for a minute as he disrupted the dust and choked on it. Once his breathing was back to normal, he looks around.

Nothing too exciting. Boxes and shelves and cobwebs in the corner. And dust.

And the mirror in front of him.

This mirror didn’t belong here. He knows that much. It was easy to tell. It was a nice mirror, with engraved details along the top and sides. It looks new. But he knows none of the others had bought a mirror, and if they had, they wouldn’t immediately put it down here to get ruined. No, this mirror was not brought here by anyone in the castle. But if it wasn’t, how did it get here? Who brought it? Surely it didn’t just…appear all on its own. That was impossible.

Dream steps closer, peering at his reflection. It seems like a normal mirror. Nothing special to it, just odd that it was here instead of upstairs. Maybe he should go and get Crossy and Kiki and they could check it out with him. Maybe they knew where it came from. If not, maybe Nighty would. If not…then it was a mystery. And everyone loves a mystery now and then, right? It would be cool to try and solve this one.

He reaches out to touch it.

Something scurries over his foot, spooking him, making him yelp, and he falls forward, his other hand flying forward, hoping to catch himself on the mirror.

Only, his hand goes through the mirror and he tumbles onto the floor.

Dream lay there for a moment. “Ow…”

He feels more winded from the fact that he just fell through a mirror than he did from falling on the floor. You’re not supposed to go through mirrors. That’s not what mirrors are for. They’re not doors. Why was it, then, that he just did the impossible? Was he magic? Well, yes, he was, technically, but was he fairy-tale magic? Did his dream finally come true?

Picking himself up, he wipes off his pants. He blinks at the room. Everything seems off. Wasn’t that shelf on the opposite wall when he walked in? And that box, wasn’t it over there? And that one over here? “That’s odd.” He stands there. Why is everything backward? “Um…” Turning, he stares at the spot where the mirror should be. It’s empty. “Well, that can’t be good.”

Where did the mirror go? Mirrors don’t just walk away. Where did it go?

Thoroughly unsettled and a bit frightened, he backs up. “I should head back. Nighty’s probably worried.”

In the hallway, everything’s backward too. Frowning, he tries to go in the direction he thinks the stairs will be. If everything’s backward, they’ll be on the opposite side. But he pauses a few steps in. He looks back distracted.

There’s negativity in the air. And it’s not coming from Nighty or any of the others.

It’s someone else.

But the only rooms down here are storage rooms and cells. Nobody else is here. Unless…someone was? But why would Nighty capture someone?

The negativity is steady. It tugs at him, almost pulling him toward where it's coming from. Should he let it? But Crossy and Kiki and Nighty…he should get back to them. He should tell them what just happened. They’ll know better. They usually do. And they’ll get more worried the longer he doesn’t return.

But this negativity…it feels familiar, somehow, for someone he doesn’t know. He’s the guardian of positivity. Shouldn’t he help this person? Or try to? He can always go back and get the others. Always. It won’t take too long to go and check.

Glancing back, he slowly turns, heading down the hall. “Just a quick check, Dream,” he says to himself, saying it over and over again in his head to make sure it sticks.

Following the negativity, he goes further into the dungeons, passing empty cells. It’s dark and cold down here. It makes him shiver just a bit. He pulls his cape around him. Getting closer, he slows down, coming to a stop in front of what he expects to be another empty cell.

It’s not.

The person inside flinches as he gasps. They look up, and their eyes widen. Their mouth opens a bit. Their negativity doesn’t leave, but it does fade, replaced with confusion and surprise.

But it’s none of this that made him gasp. It’s not what he expected, yes, and it is surprising, but he’s more so concerned with the person and what they’re wearing than anything. Their clothes are ripped and dirty, yellow vest stained with blood. They seem to be chained up, too, arms spread across the wall. They shift and the chains clank against the wall, but they don’t seem to notice, their focus all on him.

And Dream’s focus is on the crown they wear.

The golden crown that was, if he was seeing things correctly, given to them as a gift from their brother, way back before the villagers really settled down.

The golden crown that looks exactly like his.

Eyes wide, Dream looks at Future Him.

How was he here? This shouldn’t be possible. One of them should be gone if the other is here. What’s going on? And were those bandages? Was Future Him injured? Why? How? Nighty would never allow him to be injured. And this looks like a bad injury. Maybe Nighty couldn’t stop in time, or wasn’t around? But then surely Future Him wouldn’t be in a cell if Nighty knew he was injured and needed to heal.

Then…Nighty must be gone. Or they must be captured. Or something like that. Nighty was probably on his way here to rescue them. Yeah. Then it was a good thing Dream was here. He can help Future Him escape before Nighty finds them, making it easier to get out of there. Then they can get home and deal with this situation without any trouble.

“Woah.” Dream breathes, stepping closer. “You look awful.” He grabs one of the bars. “Are you okay? Do you need help? Don’t worry, I can help. We’re in the dungeons, right? The keys should be around here somewhere. I’ll find them. Stay here.”

Without giving Future Him time to say anything back, he moves down the hall in search of the keys. Humming to himself as quietly as he can to make his own soundtrack for this important mission, he peeks around the corner and finds another hallway of cells. But at the end of that one, when he peeks around this corner, he finds Crossy asleep in a chair. His arms are across his chest, head hanging. He seems to be sound asleep. But still, Dream tip toes as he comes closer.

For a moment, he’s confused. How is Crossy here when they were just playing hide and seek together? He couldn’t have gotten here that fast. It’s just impossible. And he’s asleep, too. That’s even more impossible. He would’ve had to be gone for hours for this to happen. Was he? No, no. He can’t have been. Something else was going on here.

Something really, really weird and wrong.

Looking around, he doesn’t see any keys. But remembering stories where the characters found keys on the guards and used them to escape, he eyes Crossy again. He feels guilty for having to do it, but it’s better he tries than gives up. And if the keys aren’t there, he’ll just have to keep searching.

He rummages through Crossy’s pockets and much to his surprise and delight, finds a ring of keys. He takes them out as silently as he can, barely keeping from saying anything in celebration. Somehow, he succeeds.

Smiling to himself, he rushes back. He’s a little out of breath by the time he arrives.

“I’m back!” Dream says, making Future Him look up in surprise. That’s a little hurtful. Of course he would come back! Why would Future Him think otherwise? “Let’s see…not that one…no, no—here!” The cell clicks and he slips inside, barely holding in a cheer—that would definitely wake Crossy up. He stands by Future Him, eyeing the chains. “Um, I don’t know if the key to the chains will be on this ring. There were two there. We’ll just have to try them all and see.”

Luckily, it was on there, and the chains around Future Him’s wrists click open. Dream quickly does the same with the ankles. Stepping back, he waits. Future Him doesn’t move. Concerned, he shifts in place, unsure what to do. Should he…help? But what would he be helping with? Before he needs to decide, though, Future Him’s legs buckle and he crashes to his knees, catching himself with his arm before he can fall on his face.

Yelping, Dream crouches beside him, hands hovering. What should he do? What should he do? Future Him blinks, slowly, and stares at him. His eyes are wide. Disbelieving. Slowly, he reaches up a hand—which is shaking, by the way, they should really find out how to stop that, it can’t be healthy—and rests it on Dream’s cheek.

Blinking, he lets Future Him do what he wants. Maybe it’ll make him feel better.

The other hand joins, resting on his other cheek, and Future Him’s expression breaks into one he can’t pin down. Swallowing, he speaks, voice raspy, as if he’s used it too long, or maybe not enough. “You’re…real?”

Dream blinks again, concern increasing. “Yeah.” Tilting his head, he frowns. “Did you think I wasn’t?”

Future Him doesn’t respond, still staring. Though his hands do drop, clasping together in his lap.

“Um.” Dream sits, crossing his legs like how he’s been taught. In any other situation, he might be getting a story read to him by one of Nighty’s boys. “So…what happened?”

Future Him looks confused. “What do you mean?”

Isn’t it obvious? Dream gestures around the cell. “Why were you chained up? How did you get here? How are you here in the first place? Because I’m here and you’re here and I’m pretty sure we’re the same person and I’m also pretty sure we’re not supposed to exist together.” Or at least, that’s what the movies always said. “And who wounded you? Why?”

The last question makes something in Future Him shudder, face darkening. Then, he shakes his head, a faint smile taking over. “I feel as though I should be asking you the questions.” Future Him turns his head, coughing into his shoulder. “Why are you here? How did you get here?”

“Well…” Dream says, “I was playing hide and seek with Crossy and Kiki. The bedrooms were off limits, of course, but they didn’t say the basement was off limits, so I decided to hide in one of the storage rooms—the ones past the dungeons, that way.” He points, knowing Future Him would get the idea.

Leaning back, he thinks, at the point where he’s not sure of the details. “And then I saw a mirror, which was odd because everything else was dusty and the mirror wasn’t. I tried to touch it because it must be magical if it wasn’t dusty like everything else. Only my hand went through the glass, which was weird, and then something—I think it was a rat—ran over my foot and I fell. When I got up, the whole room was, like, swapped around. If that makes sense? And when I looked back, the mirror was gone.” He is quiet for a moment as he remembers. Then he brightens. “And then I found you.”

Future Him’s brow furrows. He seems to be struggling to keep up. Dream doesn’t blame him. It does sound a little weird said out loud. “…Crossy and Kiki?” he says after some time, saying the names slowly. “Do you mean…Cross and Killer?”

Dream nods, happy that Future Him recognized them. “Yeah. Who else? There’s also Dusty, who was busy experimenting in his room, and Rory, who went out with Nighty for groceries—and you already know who Nighty is.” As he lists them, he gets to his feet in excitement. “Oh! There’s also Roro, but he’s not around as often as the others.”

“I…see.”

Seeing that Future Him was still worried, Dream smiles, trying to reassure him. “They take really good care of me, don’t worry.”

Future Him just looks at him for a moment before looking away, rubbing his wrists again.

If Dream thought he looked horrible from outside the cell, he’s even worse close up. Bandages wrap around him everywhere, even covering one of his eyes. His brow is still furrowed, heavy lines etched on his face. He seems to be lost somewhere, no longer in the present. Does he need help getting back? He’s not sure if he’ll be able to help. Future Him doesn’t seem to be in much harm, though, so it’s probably fine.

But his one eyelight is dim, and he seems to be weighed down by something. He looks exhausted. He looks sick, actually, with a faint seen of sweat on his forehead. They should really get back upstairs and get him to a bed. Of course, they might run into the others, but maybe they can get lucky and avoid them until Future Him is asleep and he’s sneaking out of the room to go and inform the others of what happened.

From the far end of the hall, a door thuds shut.

Dream freezes in place, feeling much like he’s about to be in trouble. But then he recognizes the aura that seems to be walking toward them. He relaxes. It’s just Nighty. That’s good. He might be worried he was away for so long and scold him for being down here without permission, but once he sees Future Him, they’ll have bigger things to worry about.

That’s if it even is his Nighty. He realizes it might not be. This might not even be his world—he remembers watching a few movies where the main characters went to an alternate world with different versions of themselves or their friends. This could be the same thing. Would answer a few questions. But that shouldn’t matter. It’s Nighty. It’s still his brother. He’s still the same person. Nighty will want to help, of course, because no matter his version or another one, Nighty is a big worrywart and Future Him needs someone to worry over him.

His brother is the perfect person for the job.

Beaming, he steps forward, already calling out “Nighty!” when he gets pulled from behind and tugged close to Future Him’s chest.

Blinking, it takes him a moment to catch up. He tries to wiggle out of his hold, but Future Him is apparently really strong and doesn’t budge an inch, tightening his grip and pulling him even closer. He’s facing his chest, nothing but his shirt and bandages in his vision, which is terrible because Nighty will need someone to explain to him what’s going on and Future Him is in no state to do that and he can’t explain tucked away like this.

Physically moving doesn’t seem to be getting him anywhere, so he tries to talk to Future Him. “Um, future me?” he says, turning his head. “It’s okay, it’s just Nighty—”

Above him, Future Him shushes him, repeating the motion more times than is necessary. “Just stay quiet.”

“But it’s Nighty.”

“Nightmare.” Future Him says, though it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than anything. Shuffling, he slowly moves back into a corner, bringing Dream with him. “You mean Nightmare.”

Dream frowns. What’s the difference? “I think I mean Nighty.”

“Just—” Voice breaking, Future Him seems to stop breathing for a moment, before remembering he has to breathe to stay alive. His breathing gets all funny, coming out fast and short. “Just trust me, okay? Stay silent, stay hidden.”

“But why?” He feels bad for whining like this, but what else can he do? This isn’t how it was supposed to go. They shouldn’t be hiding like something’s coming to get them.

It’s just Nighty.

Future Him still seems to be talking to himself, distant answers as he watches the door like it might spring to life and attack them. “He won’t be able to hurt you like this.”

“Why would he hurt me? It’s Nighty…” Dream gives one last struggle, Future Him’s arms tightening around him even more—honestly, how tight can he go? It feels unnatural. Safe, yes, very, but uncomfortable.

Glaring at the bandages in front of him, he huffs. He is so confused. And concerned. Who wouldn’t be? This was nothing like how his Nighty explained things. Nothing at all. Future Him wasn’t supposed to be injured and chained up. Future Him wasn’t supposed to be hiding him from their brother. Even with all of these pieces in front of him, this puzzle was so difficult to put together. He hated it. He wanted to go home. His home, not this weird backward place where Future Him was behind a cell and their brother seemed to have something to do with that.

It…was their brother, right? What is he even saying, of course it is! Future Him was just…he doesn’t know. Mistaken, maybe. Yeah. Mistaken. But Nighty would never imprison him, he knows Nighty, he would never do that. Maybe he was reading things wrong. Maybe Nighty didn’t do all of this, maybe he was here to rescue them! That would make more sense. That would be more like Nighty.

But if that was true… then why was Future Him acting like this? Why was his breath hitching, why was there the slightest tremor in his arms? Why was he hiding Dream? What was going on here?

As Nighty’s aura enclosed on them, the comforting feeling of safety and reassurance and everything his brother was, he leans forward, focusing. It’s easier to do this in such a close proximity. He focuses on Future Him and gently reaches out, trying to feel for his emotions and soul. It’s harder to hide that way. Maybe he can get some answers, at least something to go off of.

Immediately, he regrets it.

And surrounding both is a vicious mix of heartbreak and betrayal.

Bitterness pools in his mouth and he gasps in surprise. From Future Him, the emotions crowd around him, blocking out Nighty’s aura entirely. They’re rapidly switching, hovering in the air, going back and forth and back and forth between desperation, need to protect him, can’t let him be seen, need to protect him, and fear, why is he here, why is he here, it hasn’t been that long, please go away, I can’t handle any more pain.

…what? What?

That’s not right. This can’t be right.

Swallowing the bitterness, Dream automatically grips the back of Future Him’s shirt and he shifts, trying to look up at him as he whispers, “Why are you so afraid of him…?”

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #undertale #utmv #dreamtale #one small dream #one small difference #dream sans #osd dream sans #osdiff dream sans #background osdiff nightmare sans #background osdiff cross sans #tw implied/referenced torture #hope you enjoy!!

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faulty-writes · 6 months

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[ Alright! Here’s a Taishiro piece for you! This was originally going to be for a Fat Gum Bang, but one of the admins was a real jerk, so I decided to quit the bang and post it here instead! This also might be slightly different from my other works, I’m trying to incorporate more detail with settings and surroundings in my writing. Depending on how well this is received, I may write a part II. Either way, I haven’t written for Fat Gum in a while. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ]

[ Working for The Public Modeling Commission wasn’t easy, but you managed. The modeling business wasn’t for everyone, and society always had negative opinions about plus-sized models including famous ones such as Taishiro Toyomitsu, who defied these societal expectations to the point of getting The Public Modeling Commission’s attention and furthermore, getting a proposed collaboration from them. But he’s on the fence about it until you’re sent in to convince him. ]

One had to follow certain rules in certain settings, and the modeling industry was no different. Be respectful, keep eye contact, and follow orders exactly. During your many years working under The Public Modeling Commission, you learned these things.

The sound of multiple voices and the gentle clink of glasses filled the air of the grandiose ballroom. The chandeliers hanging along the length of the ceiling sparkled like prisms and cast rainbow hues that reflected off the walls and some parts of the marble flooring that was colored a pristine white and had gentle strokes of yellow.

Delicate blue flowers were also painted onto its surface, further adding to the sense of elegance that made you feel suffocated. That’s probably why you chose to stand in the corner. You wore a gray tailored suit with a crisp white button-up shirt, the collar of which remained open exposing just enough skin.

A black tie complemented the collar and hung loosely around your neck and the black blazer that hugged your figure added a touch of sophistication that was normally associated with these types of parties. And finally, on your feet were polished oxfords.

You sighed and slumped against the wall as one of the waiters walked around holding a large circular tray with what appeared to be five flute cups filled with a golden liquid that kissed the edge of each glass and had some delicate bubbles floating along the top of it that begged you to drink.

Despite this, you resisted the urge. It was lovely to drink champagne, but you were ordered not to consume any alcoholic beverages. However, you knew that being part of this celebration should make you happy. Should.

After all, it was regarding the newly created plus-size modeling division The Public Modeling Commission was planning to launch. Unlike many models and society in general, you didn’t judge anyone based on their size, nor were you stuck up as some would assume people in your career were.

While it looked good on the surface, modeling became a dead-end job after a while. As strange as that may sound, not to mention the dark secrets behind the modeling industry or at least the dark secrets behind The Public Modeling Commission. However, you had your reasons for continuing to do it.

It’s not like you were a private person, you told anyone anything you felt like saying. In most respects, honesty wasn’t something you feared. Sadly, if your past were to come to light, it would ruin your career and the image of The Public Modeling Commission.

Unlike most models, you didn’t have a pleasant start. You shuttered when you thought about your past although you suspected that most would look up to you if they knew the things you had been through and the success you tasted now.

However, the past was the past, and you were determined to keep it behind closed doors. When you think about it, your job had many positive perks…well, besides fame. It also had its downsides, such as working even when you weren’t supposed to.

“Y/n,” Yokumiru Mera said, approaching you. Yokumiru was the second in command of The Public Modeling Commission and worked closely with Madam President, who oversaw the entire operation. Without her command, the wheel wouldn’t turn.

“Hm?” You hummed in response. Yokumiru was a middle-aged man, his usual messy beige hair was slicked back and the dark bags that were normally present under his eyes were concealed with makeup. He was wearing a formal black shirt with a white collar and tie, along with black dress pants.

“Here,” the man said before handing you a small envelope, sounding tired as ever. You glanced at it briefly before opening it and upon reading what it said, you knitted your eyebrows. “Taishiro Toyomitsu?” you asked, immediately recognizing the name.

He had an agency in Esuha City and was a famous plus-sized model. Yokumiru nodded. “You know who he is, Madam President wants to ensure the collaboration between this agency and his goes smoothly,” he explained.

Taishiro has been making astonishing achievements in his plus-size modeling career and caught the attention of The Public Modeling Commission, that’s what initially started their desire to create a plus-sized modeling division of their own.

While most would find this a noble goal, you knew it was only for business purposes considering The Public Modeling Commission was the largest modeling agency in Japan and had endless connections. Most of which were made from the past collaborations they had agreed to with lesser agencies.

But unlike those past collaborations, Madam President was intensely focused on doing a special collaboration with Taishiro that would skyrocket the introduction of the new plus-sized modeling division. A hand fisted into his hair as he sighed.

“She wants you to gain his favor and give her a report.” It was your turn to sigh. This was typical of Madam President to give you tasks that were meaningless in the long run and sometimes you questioned her methods. But this was also meaningless.

When she pulled the strings, you had to dance if you wanted to stay on her good side, and more importantly, if you wanted to remain employed. You nodded and tucked the envelope away on your person. “Understood,” you replied before looking around the room.

That’s when you spotted him, a rather tall and bulky man standing over the snack table dressed in an orange suit and tie. The few people who were standing nearby were looking at him in awe or possibly disgust, you couldn’t tell.

But you saw a handful of others making subtle gestures at him and more than likely gossiping about how big he was which, in your typical modeling business, gave the right to ridicule. That didn’t sit well with you, but you weren’t someone who dived into drama unless it was necessary.

After looking at Yokumiru, you crossed the room to Taishiro who was holding a small plastic plate while looking disappointed at the finger foods that were arranged just so on fancy clear plates across the table. The food they provided didn’t appeal to you either.

It was tasteless, bland, and didn’t satisfy your appetite and that’s probably why most of the attendants preferred to fill up on alcohol. “Were you expecting something else there?” you commented, grabbing a plate of your own and successfully catching the man’s attention.

“Hm?” Taishiro turned and that’s when you got a better look at the outfit he was wearing. In addition to the sleek suit jacket which yes, was as bright as an orange, you also noticed he was wearing matching trousers and a deep burgundy colored tie with black dress shoes that while like yours, looked more worn.

You smirked, ignoring his stare even as you piled your plate with the provided finger foods. Then you smiled at him. In addition to your outfit, figure, and hairstyle, he also noted that you appeared to be of average height, even though it wasn’t much of an endorsement given his stature; most people were much smaller than him.

As most of the models at this party did, you looked handsome and beautiful. Prim and proper even. He noticed that when you were a little plumper than others, there wasn’t much kindness in their eyes when they looked at you, but your eyes...well they were different.

Taishiro had long since gotten used to the stares and criticism that came with his job and...well, his build. Despite this, he had his reasons for considering the collaboration proposal from The Public Modeling Commission but had yet to fully make up his mind.

He was quite a handsome fella when he modeled in his youth, and he was well acquainted with the modeling business. However, many don't remember him for his younger years, but rather for what he became in his later years.

“Well, I know these fancy-like parties have these lil’ delicacies. They may be appetizin’ for some, but ‘fraid they don’t do much for a big fella like me,” he explained with a smile. In response, you shrugged and ate one of the snacks on your plate.

Despite tasting bland on your tongue, you chose to engage in conversation, just as Madam President instructed. “Well, it’d be dangerous if they served actual food at these kinds of events,” you joked. “You know the ones with...models.”

Although some may not find your joke humorous, it was one of the harsh realities of modeling. Maintaining your appearance, for the most part, was essential otherwise you would lose your career. Taishiro frowned. “Heh, well...” he paused, uncertain what to say.

“That doesn’t apply to you, does it? Don’t get me wrong. Plus-sized models are amazing and you’re doing the right thing by promoting what you do,” you said with a smile. “After all, you’re Taishiro Toyomitsu,” he laughed. “Sure am!” he replied.

“And what’s your name? I’ve seen ya around, on billboards and such,” he grinned as he extended his hand out. “Y/n,” you responded, shaking his hand. As soon as he heard your name, his eyes lit up, which you expected.

After all, you had held sixth place among the top 10 models in Japan for years which was impressive considering the models ahead of you were Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Tsunagu Hakamada, Shinya Kamihara, and Rumi Usagiyama.

Most of them had their own agencies. It was almost funny to think that models were treated as though they were celebrities. While most had their own fanbase, the top 10 models typically received the most love and as such, they needed to work hard to keep their fanbase happy.

It was a challenge sometimes, but you managed. After all, when you had so many fans who loved your beautiful face, it was best not to disappoint. As far as the ranking board was concerned, you knew that Taishiro fell within the 50 most popular models. In retrospect, that was an incredible accomplishment for a plus-sized model.

“Well fancy yourself a model!” he declared, putting his plate down before nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been with The Public Modeling Commission for a while, right? Maybe ya can teach me a thing or two,” he joked and you faked a smile, but it seemed genuine to most, and you knew it would fool him as well.

“Yeah, guess you could say that,” you replied, shrugging. “And yes, I could teach you a thing or two. First things first,” you pointed lazily at the individuals who continued to stare at Taishiro as if he were some sort of spectacle. “See those stares?” you asked, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to see who you were referring to.

You threw your plate of food into the nearby trashcan while he was distracted and after a moment of hesitation, he replied, “Yeah.” Your smile widened. “Fantastic!” You exclaimed. “Ignore them,” you held two fingers up before he could respond.

“Second,” You took the plate of food he had set on the table and carelessly dropped it on the floor. He looked utterly shocked by your actions, but before he could address it you motioned for him to follow you. “It’s better to gorge yourself on actual food.” He looked at the food now splattered across the floor.

Since it was a little hard to lean over when you were a big fella, he followed you curious to see where you were leading him. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the restaurants around here, yeah?” He chuckled at your question.

“Sure, I am!” He replied with a happy grin. “Great!” You said as you walked past the entrance of the building and out into the cool night air. No matter what time it was, the city was always busy, but at night, it was more captivating.

Neon lights illuminated the streets and reflected a rainbow of hues off the windows of the numerous buildings that surrounded the area, creating that bustling energy that cities are known for. In addition, the paper lanterns that hung from the food stands nestled between the buildings created a warm, welcoming aura.

They also added that savory fragrance that lingered in the air and made your mouth water. Despite that, a multitude of people lined the sidewalk, and each seemed woven together as they passed one another. Others sat on the available benches that were scattered around or stood at one of the many bus stops the city offered.

“Mm...” You seemed drawn to the couples that walked hand in hand or were sitting down lovingly gazing at each other. You never thought much about romance, but what else could you expect when you were adored by...well everyone?

It was somewhat disappointing to think that they only loved you for your career as opposed to the real you. Whoever that was. Even so, as of right now, you aren’t interested in anyone. You glanced up at Taishiro who, too, seemed awestruck by how beautiful the city looked.

Nope...weren’t interested in anyone. “So,” you said, resuming walking. “What restaurant do you want to go to?” He hesitated before following you. “Whatever suits your fancy! Trust me, this big ol’ gut doesn’t care as long as the food is hot and fresh!” he said patting his stomach with a hearty laugh.

“Mm, is that so?” You asked, glancing back at him. “Sure is. One thing I’ve learned is not to be picky when it comes to havin’ a good meal,” he shared. “Yeah, I agree,” you replied, your stomach grumbling at the thought of some steamy hot food piled high on a plate.

You looked ahead, spotting a large red building with a flashing yellow sign situated above it and a long line that expanded down the sidewalk. “Since we’re on the same page, how about we go there?” you suggested pointing at the restaurant.

“Seems a bit crowded,” he replied after taking into account the long line of people waiting outside. You smirked, “I know, but I’m sure I could get us a private room no problem,” you winked at the bigger man, who looked at you in confusion.

Instead of addressing it, when the two of you approached the building, you walked to the front door and he remained standing on the sidewalk. When the line of people spotted you, screams of joy echoed and he heard a few people call out your name. “Hm,” it wasn’t that hard for him to put two and two together.

“Heyo!” You greeted them with a pleasing smile and a playful wink, making them scream out again. He laughed softly. In general, he didn’t have much of a fan base because few people liked plus-sized models, but he treasured the fans he did have because fame wasn’t everything.

The only thing he wanted was to spread positivity and self-love. Glam and fashion magazines have always told everyone that skinny was the only way to be, that somehow a small stomach and a flawless face equaled true beauty. It didn’t.

He enjoyed inspiring others to see their inner beauty and appreciate how they looked on the outside. However, he was happy to see that you had a lot of fans. Guess you earned them. The hostess appeared more taken by you than the rest of the crowd and stared at you with such love and awe he was almost jealous.

“Mind if we get a private room to eat in, sweetheart? Yeah, I can autograph that for you,” chuckling, you took her clipboard and scribbled your name across it. She allowed you to enter after a selfie request but stumbled back when Taishiro walked over. Unlike you, he didn't get a warm welcome per se.

Suddenly, the crowd that had been shrieking for you stopped and murmurs and concerns filled the air. He couldn’t help but recall that most of the discrimination he faced was due to his size and shape. But people just have to deal with it.

When you realized he hadn’t followed you inside, you paused and turned to see him standing in front of the hostess. She wore a defensive posture, and you could only assume she was giving him a nasty look. “Hey,” you said, catching her attention.

“He’s with me,” the hostess looked at you in disbelief before looking back at Taishiro. Then with a sigh, she motioned him inside. You could only imagine what was going through her mind. Of course, that wasn’t important.

You turned and resumed walking inside the restaurant. It wasn’t that difficult for him to notice that you turned several heads when you walked by. The waitresses gave you that familiar loving gaze and some squealed with delight when they saw you.

Others who were eating suddenly paused and gazed at you with amazement. He wondered if you realized what you were doing or if you had just gotten so used to being treated this way that you ignored their reactions. Either way, he hoped you were happy and if you weren’t, heck he’d try his best to make you.

The pristine wooden door leading into the private room opened with a faint whisper and you noticed it was adorned with a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms and delicate pinks and greens that looked like they were swaying when the door moved.

You looked at Taishiro before stepping inside and immediately noted the elegantly placed table that dominated the room. It appeared to be constructed from ash wood, giving it a modern and sophisticated appearance that aligned with the feeling of the restaurant.

Its edges were carefully constructed into a gentle curve, and, like the door, cherry blossoms adorned its perimeter, further enhancing its artistic appeal. Its polished and prim surface had a pitcher of ice water and two large glasses on it and reflected the soft golden glow from the paper lanterns hung across the room.

To create an inviting atmosphere, the table was set low to the ground on tatami mats painted a greenish hue, encouraging you and Taishiro to sit on one of the four cushions placed along the curves of the table. Your concentration was broken when Taishiro laughed.

“Well, guess that’s a preview of the lovin’ and admirin’ ya get daily, huh?” You wanted to shrug and dismiss his words. Instead, you walked over and took a seat and he followed, taking the one across from you. Although he struggled a bit getting onto his knees and sitting cross-legged which you partly expected.

You tried to resist smirking and leaned one elbow on the table and cradled your hand against your cheek. “Yeah, more or less, sorry if I threw you for a loop,” you said with a forced laugh. “Heh, that’s alright!” he declared.

“No harm done, and I enjoy seein’ ya work your magic,” your smile filled him with joy, but there was something odd about it. He tended not to appreciate others smiling unless they meant it. “Right, well,” you picked up the menu and glanced over the choices while tapping your chin.

You lacked self-control when it came to food. Considering your very strict exercise regimen, eating whatever you desired didn’t adversely affect your modeling career. When you glanced up, you noted that Taishiro looked tall even when he was seated, and although he was a big and round individual, he was nice to look at.

His skin was clear and creamy, his blond hair fell in gentle waves, and his eyes were the same color as his hair. His appearance was truly unique, and you admired it. Several years ago, he made his plus-sized modeling debut, and you remember everyone laughing and criticizing him.

Of course, there were a few kind hearts out there, yourself included, that thanked him for his work and how he defied plus-sized modeling limitations. Not many knew this, but he was one of your motivations for your modeling career.

It’s funny how life works sometimes. Here you were sitting with one of the most famous plus-sized models in Japan, the same plus-sized model you had admired for years. Yet, it was almost as though it were under false pretenses given the fact you were only following orders.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t wise to go against Madam President since the newest division of her modeling franchise depended on Taishiro’s collaboration, and you were sent in as her rat to sweeten the deal. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you heard your name.

“Y/n?” You snapped out of your daze. “Huh?” you replied, only to hear him laugh in return. “Is anythin’ wrong? Heh, I can understand why ya wanna stare, heck a lot of people stare at me. But your head seems to be in the clouds, is there somethin’ on your mind?” You shook your head.

“No...nothing,” you replied, glancing to the side. Despite knowing you were lying, he shrugged. “Alrighty then...” he said, not wanting to provoke or push you into telling him what was wrong. It had to come out sooner or later. “So,” he adjusted the menu in his hands.

“What were ya thinkin’ of gettin’? Everythin’ sounds pretty appetizin’, doesn't it?” You tapped your lips several times, scanning the menu. “Hm...takoyaki, yakitori, and tempura sound delicious. We could also order sushi and onigiri,” you suggested, making him laugh in response.

As you lowered your menu, you raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I’m sorry,” he said, letting his laughter die down. “I didn’t mean to disrespect ya in any way. I just wasn’t expectin’ a model as fine as yourself to be prepared to eat that much,” he explained.

“I just admire someone with an appetite like mine,” he added. “Heh,” you tried to smile but knew what he was thinking. He thought you were like the rest of the braindead models, who starved themselves or ate nothing but healthy food, but that’s not how you lived.

You reminded yourself again that as long as you stuck to your exercise routine, the one Madam President made for you, eating what you pleased wouldn’t jeopardize your career. “Is that correct?” You asked respectfully, but even so, tension dripped from you like a leaky faucet.

He opened his mouth, sensing the tension, only to have the waitress interrupt him. After placing your order, you flashed her a smile and tried to ignore the look of disbelief on her face. Then Taishiro ordered his food, and the two of you were left alone again.

After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you glanced at him and leaned back in your seat. “So, what made you want to get into modeling? If memory serves, you started modeling after you graduated High School and your popularity grew,” you said, wanting to start a conversation.

Taishiro tensed up a bit and a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose that’s right,” he said, quickly recalling his younger years. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed modelin’ back then, and still do now!” he exclaimed with a determined smirk.

But it soon faded, and he fixed his eyes on the table. “After a while though, fame, and fortune don’t mean much if people only come to ya ‘cause you’re pleasin’ to the eye,” he explained, and you understood what he meant.

It seemed that beauty played the most crucial role in determining how people treated you and what kind of looks you got in society. “I wanted to be somethin’ more, but along the way, I found another passion,” he said, patting his stomach.

“After that, I got to thinkin’ that despite my growin’ size I could still be a role model that others look up to,” you nodded. “Yeah…I remember your early days as a model. You inspired me to follow the profession. Even after people tried to bury your name and career,” you smirked when he parted his lips in shock.

“Heh, well I guess I should be thankin’ ya for lookin’ up to me so kindly. But with natural beauty like yours, I’d think you’d find your way into this career without lookin’ up to me,” he said, and you shook your head, a smile still painting your features.

“I like looking up to you. The fact that you redefined the modeling business is amazing,” might as well try buttering him up. “All your dedication and work are paying off. The Public Modeling Commission was determined to open a plus-sized division after seeing your success.” You chuckled briefly.

“I’m sure the collaboration between your and our agencies will finally give plus-sized models the respect they deserve and-” you paused. You could dig for more information discreetly now that you’ve mentioned The Public Modeling Commission and the collaboration. You could also make sure Taishiro was 100% on board.

You felt your stomach twist in disgust, almost wishing he knew what you were doing. If he did, the kind and admiring eyes he used to look at you would no longer be there. “Oh sorry,” you said, pressing your hands against your chest.

“You haven’t fully decided if you will go through with the collaboration. Shouldn’t have mentioned it, I-” He interrupted you, falling hook, line, and sinker for your setup. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle allowing his eyes to linger on you for a long moment then gazed at your hand which remained resting on the table.

“Truth be told, I was on the fence about it…but…” You tensed up when he placed his hand over yours. Yes, you did not judge others by their, ahem…proportions. But it was hard to ignore how large his hand was. While it swallowed your hand whole, you also noticed how warm and gentle his touch was.

His thumb stroked the side of your hand like one would pet a bird or a kitten. “Ya convinced me with your kindness,” you knitted your eyebrows. “Sorry?” you replied, but he smiled. “Your kindness, most wouldn’t approach me like ya did,” he chuckled, “and that honesty of yours is also somethin’ to be admired.”

Your heart sank at his words, if only he knew how dishonest you were being. “And if I accept this collaboration, well it’d be a downright honor to work side by side with ya if I’d be so privileged,” you looked at him with disbelief. It faded after a few moments, and you glanced away. “Oh, uh...” What should you even say to that?

“Thanks?” Yeah, thanking him was better than nothing. “Heh, heh. The pleasure is mine,” he replied with a smile, and you gave a forced one in return. It was sad to think that such a smile fooled thousands of people every day.

Taishiro knitted his eyebrows almost as if he sensed something was wrong and opened his mouth, but at that moment the waitress returned, placing the food on the table and you sighed in relief. Grabbing a yakitori, you greedily tore off a chunk like an animal tearing into a fresh kill.

While he looked on in amusement, you hummed in approval and licked your lips. “Heh, guessin’ it’s good eatin’, don’t mind if I do,” he said, reaching over to take a yakitori. A minute later, you both had your plates piled high and exchanged a few words as you ate your fill.

“Ah, that food was pretty tasty!” he said with a chuckle, patting his stomach. You nodded, leaning back against your seat when the waitress came with the bill. “Hm?” Taishiro sat up and was about to reach across the table to look at it, but you snatched it away.

You placed it on your lap before pulling out your credit card. “Pardon,” he said as you tucked your card into the check presenter’s plastic sleeve. “Yes?” you replied, looking at him. “Are ya intendin’ to pay for this meal?” he asked, and his voice reflected a slight suspicion and uncertainty.

“Is that a problem?” you replied with a smirk. “Well now, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I expected ya to pay,” he said, but you shrugged. “I’m paying,” you replied, your tone firm and your voice deep to make sure he knew there was no room for argument.

As you handed the check presenter to the waitress, you looked at him and said, “Consider it a welcoming present and a thank you for collaborating with The Public Modeling Commission.” You gave him yet another sweet but fake smile.

He frowned when he saw it but decided not to address it now. “Well, thank ya kindly but next time, the meals on me,” he stated. You were caught off guard by his words. “Next time?” You muttered under your breath but knew not to overthink it.

Most likely, he was just being polite. Before walking out of the restaurant with him, you ensured everything was correct and put your credit card away. It was less cluttered on the sidewalk, but people still walked along it.

More than likely they were heading home after a long day’s work. You noticed the signs you passed by earlier looked brighter than before. This was especially evident considering the sky was now painted black and only a few stars were visible.

Taishiro noticed a genuine smile on your face as you looked up at the sky, and he wanted to tell you to only smile when you mean it. At the same time, he knew that you must have had your reasons for that fake smile. “Heh,” he chuckled, catching your attention.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head, his eyes lingering on you. “Nothing, I just…” He paused and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his already messy blond hair around. “I wanted to apologize for my earlier comment again and-” you waved his words off.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you said as you walked down the sidewalk. “That’s the reaction most models who actually eat and are friendly get. We break the illusion society holds over us. That we’re perfect little porcelain dolls,” you explained before looking up at the sky again.

“Some of us are lucky enough to be broken porcelain dolls,” you joked, a bit of a dark joke at that but still you chuckled. As Taishiro followed you, he apologized to the few people he ran into and those who stepped around to avoid him.

“Is that right?” He replied before holding back his breath. “Well,” he reached over, laying his hand on your shoulder and making you pause. “Hm?” You turned, looking at him with curiosity and something about that expression made his heart leap.

“Uh,” for a moment he forgot what he wanted to say. “Oh!” He laughed. “As far as porcelain dolls go. I gotta say if I were the collector type, I’d buy a dozen of ya ‘cause I can’t get enough of your sweet self!” His comment made you snicker.

“Right,” you replied dryly and resumed walking, and he followed right behind you. “So, the party should be just about over by now,” you informed him. “Oh?” He smiled. He was happy he got to spend time with you instead of remaining at the party so there was no sadness in knowing it was over.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying not to let silence fill the space between the two of you. “So do you live far from here?” You asked. “Heh, I live back in good ol’ Esuha City,” you nodded. “Near your agency I assume. Good thinking,” you commented, “must be nice.”

“Well, city life ain’t for most. Truth be told, I’d be just as content livin’ in one of the rural areas. Of course, then I’d miss out on all the great food the city has to offer,” he said laughing. You smirked, “Yeah…the city has some excellent food,” enough to satisfy you anyway.

Glancing ahead, you could see the building where the party was being held. There were also a few people walking out and several cars pulling out onto the street. “So did you drive here?” you asked, ignoring the chill of the air against your cheeks, which were slowly turning red.

“Nah, I don’t do much drivin’. Heh, but I have a ride. Don’t ya be worryin’ about lil’ ol’ me now,” he teased, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Heh,” you chuckled and felt relieved when you were finally in front of the semi-empty building.

While your back was turned to it, you felt eyes on you, and you assumed said eyes belonged to Madam President. Somehow, she always kept tabs on you, and if not her, then someone close to her did. To put it simply, you were never actually alone.

Every move you made had to be calculated perfectly, but sometimes you didn’t care about the consequences of your actions, maybe that made you rebellious. You weren’t sure. However, most would advise against angering Madam President.

Despite this, you and your colleague made a game out of it. Come to think of it, it’s strange that Madam President didn't send him to do this job. Who knows, maybe she thought Taishiro would be more drawn to you? Regardless, you knew you would find out later.

“So, I guess this is goodnight. That dinner was delicious, we must do it again sometime,” you said, putting on your most optimistic smile. His face twisted with uncertainty and before you could react, he grabbed your hands and cradled them.

First, he put his hand over yours during dinner, and now this. “I’d like that, if ya don’t mind bein’ seen with a big fella like me again. Havin’ dinner or just spendin’ time with ya again would be a pleasure,” he said, smiling at you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“Hmm,” Madam President’s eyes remained fixed on you and Taishiro. “What on Earth is going on…” she muttered, her words dripping with suspicion. “I’m sure everything is fine…” Yokumiru said, ignoring her glare. “I agree!” Keigo announced as he entered the room.

His feathery ash hair was slicked back, highlighting his yellow eyes adorned with triangular tattoos on the top corners and tear ducts. He wore a black and red suit that almost appeared to have some sort of shimmer to it, and he had a faint amount of stubble on his chin.

He smirked as he walked over and plopped onto the couch. “Takami…” Madam President growled but did not remove her eyes from you nor Taishiro. “Aw, come on there Madam President. I know I left my post early, but hey…it looks like you didn’t need hawk eyes on Y/n after all.”

Like you, Keigo often carried out Madam President’s orders which consisted mostly of keeping tabs on the others she sent out. Like a supervisor, but undetected. “I mean sure, I could have done the job just as well,” he stated, placing his hands behind his head.

He lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “But Y/n has that certain genuine charm people seem to like, and besides Toyomitsu seemed pretty smitten with them, so didn’t think I needed to observe any longer,” he explained.

He could sense tension in the air. More than likely Madam President was angered because he technically disobeyed her order. However, no harm was done, and he wasn’t scared of what she might do. She had no one better than him, apart from you, that is.

“I hope to see ya again real soon, alright?” Taishiro squeezed your hands gently before releasing them, turning, and walking away. As you watched him disappear, you felt your hands tingle and a strange feeling of warmth wash over you.

But your moment was interrupted when you heard someone clear their throat. You sighed and turned to face her after shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Madam President,” you replied nonchalantly. She crossed her arms. “Report,” she stated, and you sighed again.

“Right, straight to that, huh?” You replied, placing one hand on your hip. “He agreed to collaborate with our agency. There’s no changing his mind,” you said. “Ensure it remains that way,” she ordered before turning back toward the building and walking away.

“Suuuuuure,” you replied half-heartedly before placing your hand on your chest, feeling the unusual speedy pace of your heart. The last time you received physical affection and talked to someone who seemed genuinely interested in you instead of your career was a long time ago.

But Taishiro...the way he looked and spoke to you. Well, it was different than what you were used to. He was different than the others Madam President assigned you to butter up. “Mm…” you pressed a hand to your forehead.

“I must be going crazy. It’s been a long day,” you concluded, shrugging before you started toward the car that The Public Modeling Commission provided. When you approached, Untenmaru Kurumada stepped out.

He was an older man with short black hair styled up in the front and a white mustache with hints of black. On the length of his chin, white facial hair was also present. A black dress shirt and white tie complemented his dark-colored jacket that hugged his chest and waist.

Additionally, he always wore white driving gloves. Since Enji, the one he had an exclusive contract with, did not attend tonight’s event, he agreed to drive the models present because he made a living catering to models specifically.

“Hello Y/n!” he shouted enthusiastically as he opened the door. “Where are you headed!?” he asked, his voice high and loud. You replied, “I’ll head home, thank you,” and he nodded before closing the door, climbing into the driver’s seat, and starting the engine.

As the car pulled out onto the street, you looked at the black sky still adorned with those sparkling diamonds known as the stars. Then you looked down at your hands which lay motionless in your lap. You remembered Taishiro’s secure grip on them and yet again how he looked at you.

It was unlike the looks you got daily, there was just something about it that made you feel…strange. “Hm…” you knit your eyebrows. Untenmaru noticed the expression you were making when he gazed at the rearview mirror and frowned.

Despite knowing it wasn’t any of his business, he blurted out “Something wrong!?” His many years as a chauffeur gave him a great deal of insight into the challenges associated with the modeling industry, and the struggles models of your generation face.

He had known you for some time, and usually, you had a smile on your face. However, tonight it seemed someone or something had stolen it from you. Looking at him, you raised your eyebrows. Damn…shouldn't have given yourself away.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Nothing. I’m just…I mean it’s just…” Drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you tried to think. “I’m just worried about how well the collaboration with Toyomitsu will go. After all, this new division means a lot to The Public Modeling Commission,” you explained only to hear him huff in response.

“Is that all you kids think about!? There’s more to life than success! Even Mr. Todoroki knows that!” You hummed in response, and although he had a point, you knew he couldn’t tell that there was an enormous amount of guilt weighing your heart down.

When you think about it, Madam President would likely assign you or Keigo to show Taishiro the ropes before the big collaboration debut. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your pants. You could only imagine how chaotic that would be.

In addition, despite your best efforts to tell yourself this was only business, Taishiro Toyomitsu, made your stomach churn with butterflies which was an unusual and furthermore, unwanted reaction that you had to get under control before your next meeting with him.

#fat gum x reader #taishiro x you #taishiro x reader #fatgum x y/n #fatgum x reader #fatgum x you #bnha x self insert #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x male reader #bnha x fem!reader #faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: 23 #faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: one shot: 23

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