Getting Mass-send Ask Lately Spamming Asks And Dms Asking For Monetary Donations 5,10,25, Sometimes I

So I watched the first episode of Disney’s docuseries on the filming of The Mandalorian, and the first episode focuses on the directors behind it and just. You guys. I had no idea just how much of a relatable NERD Dave Filoni was.

Seriously, he tells the story of how he met George Lucas and started working on TCW (sorry if this is a common knowledge story and I just never heard it) and oh my gosh it is absolutely adorable and also the biggest nerd mood???

He:

Was openly snarky and dismissive with the person who first called to offer him the LF job while he was working for Nickelodeon because he thought it was a prank call from the guys on the Spongebob crew making fun of him for being a massive Star Wars nerd

Flailed excitedly about the Jedi costume he was making at home

Spent his entire first meeting with George believing he wasn’t gonna get the job and was just thinking about how much this was gonna boost his future nerd cred, so the next time he got into a debate with another Star Wars fan he could back his opinions up with, “well I met George Lucas.”

The rest of his story was super sweet and all the other directors were lovely too and agh, we’re so lucky to have him!

Hello! I hope you are doing alright while the world around us falls. I have a question for you. How do you find inspiration to write? I am going through a horrible writers block and I have NO inspiration whatsoever.

So, I know the feeling.  For me, writing is kind of therapy.  (Even if what I’m writing about has nothing to do with what I’m feeling.  It takes the feelings and converts them into something else.)  So if you don’t have unresolved feelings, or if you’ve shut them down because the world is a shit show, it can be harder to write.

Inspiration is nice, but if you just wait for inspiration to strike, you might be waiting for a very long time.  Some days I don’t feel it, I just sit down and saying,  “I have to write this scene, and I can come back and edit it later, once I’ve laid the bones.”  Sometimes after a rough start, things flow. Sometimes I can get out a few hundred words, but I know it isn’t working, so I do something else.  (Reading books from a genre other than what I am writing is super helpful for me to recharge.)

Outlining can help.  Just write a few lines about what the scene needs to accomplish and what happens.  You probably know your process better than I can guess.

Also, I think a lot about what I plan to write while I’m doing other things, such as running, driving, showering, working, falling asleep.  I low-key have a process going in the background cycling through ideas.  They aren’t all good.  They aren’t necessarily focused.  But I find that if I’ve been kind of brainstorming (or letting idle thoughts trail off into my subconscious), I have an easier time later on when I sit down to write.  Sometimes I just run the outline through my head. 

Example:  “Oh yeah, that needs to happen but it would be boring just to have a meeting.  Oh, and why would that character be there?  I can swap them out or I need a better excuse.  What are they eating?  Does it matter?  Hmm, I’m hungry...” 

It took me years to figure out my process, and it’s worth it to try other things, but this is what works for me.  Hope it helps!

Shout out to tumblr for introducing me to reader insert fanfiction. Now I can no longer ship my favorite characters with anyone but myself.

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

@/Callofdudes made an apology.

Not only did they fail to address what they did so other people are aware, their initial response to being called out is dismissive and condescending.

Their statement of "wanting to remain neutral" is out of the discussion. Racism is not a matter of opinion or neutrality and engaging in or condoning such behaviour cannot be justified under the guise of neutrality. It's crucial to recognize that discussions about racism and harmful stereotypes have been prevalent in various circles for the past four years. Claiming ignorance or unawareness in this context is not a valid excuse.

From what I've seen in the replies, it's Non-black people insisting that this person is forgiven. IT IS NOT UP TO YOU TO DECIDE THAT. That apology is not meant for you, you don't have the jurisdiction to thank them for apologizing and should not be forgiving on behalf of the offended party. An apology that feels so Overgeneralized comes off as disingenuous.

I'm not Black, I will never understand what it's like to be a Black person. If you are willing to correct/educate me on matters in regards to this, my replies and DMs are always open; I want to learn. If my knowledge is not accurate, I will take this down upon request.

Reading this when I am on the verge of resigning on my shitty job lol.

how the task force 141 men react to you complaining about your job (f!reader) ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

simon doesn't even blink as you throw your head into his lap, eyes still focused on the television while his hand subconsciously moves to smooth your hair.

"jus' quit."

you pause in the midst of your whining, staring up at him like he'd just grown a second head. "what?"

simon shrugs. "makin' enough."

"i... i can't quit my job, simon."

his eyebrows twitch up a bit, indifferent. "up to you, love."

you pause, considering. "well..."

johnny doubles down. not only does he tell you to quit immediately, he also throws in that the military will pay him extra if you two get married.

mind you, johnny already rates BAH and has been making it since before you two got together. there won't really be any change to his pay besides separation pay when he's gone for more than a month. however, this is his opportunity to gauge your reaction to the idea of marriage, and he's taking it.

kyle. sweet, sweet kyle. he doesn't tell you to quit. not because he wouldn't support you financially - he absolutely would - but because he knows how important it can be for a woman to have a sense of independence. he also worries about how you'll handle the potential isolation if he's away for an extended period of time and you don't have a job to occupy your time. also, he's happy to pay the bills, but if you're working then you can afford all of the pretty things you want and deserve!

john? john price? ... funny of you to think that you're working while you're with that man, lol.

note: was bored and wrote this in like 10 mins. just had to be done lol. BAH is Basic Allowance for Housing in the American military (i'm not super familiar with british military allowances so using BAH for easy fic purposes lmao) - lower ranking enlisted military that are married can get it or single qualified enlisted (usually ranked sergeant and above) can be approved for it. it's extra pay that you receive to live off-base to cover housing expenses calculated by average cost of rent in the area and family size!

Dragon Age: Inquisition imagine. Having the femquisitor as your sibling…

(when she died or presumably dead)

you are either the younger or older sibling of the femquisitor.

but that doesn’t stop you worrying when she went to the conclave to attend or see the summit.

when the news reached to you that all of the people at the conclave died, you cried.hard.

well your sister is your sibling, the one who is closest to your heart and may or may not be the only one in the family left.

but still you felt alone, loneliness creeps to you now like a shadow swallowing you whole.

for days you just lied down, staring at the ceiling

some nights you have nightmares, dreaming of how your sister died.

one of them is your sister being burned into ashes.

few weeks later, you fell back into normal routine with difficulty.

you had to do it or else your sister would be mad of you wallowing in your own sorrow.

‘if only my sister is here, I’m sure she would…’

little did you know….

in a bright sunny you are tending yourself, bored out of your mind.

suddenly there is a knock on your front door.

you jumped slighty as you heard the knocking.

'is that the templar or mages?’ heart thumps wildly as you thought on what you would do.

you know to defend yourself with a weapon since your sister thought you since your were very young.

grabing your weapon of your choice , you brace yourself as you slowly open the door .

only to find out

your SISTER with some of the strange companions behind her.

“well, well little/big (sis/bro) look who’s stiil alive and kicking” your sister started.

you don’t know whether to punch, slap or hug her.

you stare at her few minutes with silence still processing on what is happening.

“ OH MY SISTER, IS THAT YOU?” you exclaimed to her.

“How are you still alive and breathing?” you questioned her.

“That is the story for another time” she answered patting your head.

“Come with me to Haven (Y/n), it would be dangerous to leave you alone in here”

“But why sister?” you questioned her, hpoing for some answers.

“There would be enemies around here. I would rather have you with me” she answered with her eyes pleading that you would come with her.

“Alright I’ll come with you, I cannot lose you sister.”

And this is where your real adventure all began.

I loved the opportunity to make him as human and as accessible as possible which is strange to say because it’s impossible to get to him because he’s covered in armor from head to toe. 

And yet the idea is that he is relatable, we are all kinda covered in our own armor and terrified of taking that armor off and that’s the thing that crosses him over into a character that we all really wanna follow.

Pedro Pascal about the Mandalorian

FFXV Headcanons: First Meeting at Highschool with Ignis

It just a dull Wednesday for you.

Well not really dull but you get what I mean

You are just having a hard time in focusing your studies, the usual academics, stressing the student lives for centuries.

You are in the library studying for incoming test.

You're very worn out with eyebags and terrible coordination or cognitive thinking because of your sleepless nights.

Studying for your least favorite subject since you are in a prestigious school. Oh no no no no you cannot waste your money for you to fail grades what kind of student are you!?

Well a future failing student because you can't get the lessons into your head.

'UGH, I can't fail even if I don't understand a thing or maybe its just a mental block'

Or maybe you're having a mental breakdown

"I shouldn't give you up, ugh" you exclaimed to yourself as you faceplant yourself towards your pile of bools and notes.

Unknown to you a brunette man is observing you the whole time.

"Do you need any help? I see you appeared having some rough time" said brunette as he approached you.

You suddenly jolted almost bumping the brunette

"Wha-?! I'm sorry and thank you for the help, but may I ask who you are? I am (Y/n) by the way" You inquired as holding your hand out to him.

"I'm Ignis Stupeo Scientia and a pleasure to be your acquintance" Ignis said as he took your hand and kiss it.

Something in him, felt something towards you, attraction perhaps because of your uniqueness or may be the spirit of you having not to give up despite your difficulties.

One thing you know you passed your test with flying colors after your tutoring with him and you meet each other after that.