#Working Title

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[welpuu]

okay hello kinda eh omori animaton thing i did

part 34 for omori grrrls MAP hosted by 민 on youtube (conti link below)

[nerdallwritey]

Wip Wednesday!

Thank you to @vividiana, @khywren, @xxnashiraxx, and @kalmiaphlox for the tags!

I'd say I'm very close to finishing part 6 of Beauty and the Bard, so here's another preview to hold you over until I'm actually done :)

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin. “You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief.  “I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth.  Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.” Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion.  He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose.  “It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.” Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.” “Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?” “Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.”  “She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper.  “Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.” Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 

No pressure tagging: @arzen9, @astarioffsimpmain, @davenswitcher, and @obsessedwhyyes if you guys have anything you want to share!!

[aluminumneedles]

The Great Knitted Christmas Gifts Bonanza of 2024

(Working title)

Besties and beloved mutuals, welcome to the chaos.

This will be wacky. Zany. Incredibly boring at times and possibly excessively dramatic for no reason at all except my (and hopefully your) amusement. We will laugh! I will cry! We will perhaps commiserate over things and also I will aggravate my carpal tunnel! I will ask for advice on things I don't know how to do! I will make polls because audience participation is enrichment for me! Good shit good shit let's get started

At the time of writing it is September 18, 2024, also known as 98 days before Christmas Eve, which will heretofore be known as The Deadline™️. I have, at present, four family members for whom I am making gifts. Now you may be thinking "Kay, that's only four people. That does not warrant a big post." But I'm making one anyway so here we goooo

PERSON #1

Mom. I already decided on my mom's gift, she's getting a shawl. It's my first shawl and I'm kinda geeked about it. It's the Cosmos Textured Knit Wrap from Mama in a Stitch

(photo taken from Mama in a Stitch's website I hope that's ok??)

Yarn is Red Heart worsted weight acrylic in Royal. Now here's the situation: I haven't made a wearable with acrylic yarn in awhile and I wasn't a huge fan of how it felt last time. But I know people do it literally every day, so: when the time comes I will be soliciting advice on how to make it soft and comfy. Plus I hate blocking and I'm gonna have to block this so yay growth!!

PERSON #2

My sister. Adorable, likes a pastel, super long hair, so I was thinking...scrunchies? And then I was thinking scrunchies are not necessarily on the level of gift I was aiming for so I thought...scrunchies + matching leg warmers (babydoll goes to the gym sometimes so i thought it would be cute)? And then. AND THEN. Was scrolling Pinterest instead of sleeping and I found these!!!

Now there are pros and cons

Pros:

I have been wanting to knit lace

I have been wanting to knit socks

Cons:

I have no experience knitting lace or socks

Oh well f*ck it we ball! Will still try to match the scrunchies to the socks. Send thoughts/prayers/advice/yarn recs, because idk what I am doingggg

PERSON #3

My brother. So, at the first of the year I started knitting a blanket kind of just because--I really liked the pattern and I wanted the feeling of starting something new in the new year. In April I decided it would be a gift for my boyfriend at the time, in May it became too hot to knit with wool, and in July the relationship ended. My brother has expressed interest in a blanket from the same pattern and has offered to take this one off my hands. I'm about 3/4 of the way done. Should be an easy gift, right? Maybe I'll throw in a matching pillow?

However, I once promised to make him this sweater:

(image snagged from the MomentsinTwine Etsy shop)

I bought the pattern, I bought the yarn, and I never delivered. (I started it and frogged it twice because my gauge was so so off.)

So uhhh PLEASE do the poll I need help deciding. Yarn would probably be a golden yellow wool blend, because that is the color he wanted 3 years ago and if I ask for an updated color choice he'll know what I'm working on 😭

PERSON #4

My dad.

Y'all.

I have no idea what to do for this man. He is a very classic "I don't want anything" person, and I am a classic "Must. Give. Gift." person. So already, times are tough!! What am I supposed to knit this man???

So I was thinking slippers-- I found a pattern for Woodland Loafers on Ravelry (pattern by Claire Slade) and I thought they were adorable. But then I was thinking why not make a whole, like, cozy care package? So I thought slippers, mug rug + mug cozy, maybe something else? He likes music, he likes to relax and watch his lil shows, he likes M*rvel?? Open to so many suggestions babes.

So...yeah. That's the show. I'll update as I go along, and if you're ever curious about how things are going or want to bully me about not making progress, please nudge me!! Sorry this was so long okay bye

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 3

Summary: Drama continues at camp, following almost directly along with S1 E3

Relationship: Daryl & Reader, Shane x Reader

first warning of this multi-chapter series: Age gap relationship (not Daryl & fmc)

other notes: By now if you're still reading this, you've probably noticed I'm a heavy dialogue writer. I love dialogue. That's just my style and I don't plan on changing it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lmk your thoughts :)

The guys at camp are packing up the car, getting ready to head into Atlanta. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the women at camp staring at you from the RV. Huffing, you turn back to Daryl. "What's the deal with everyone here?" you ask.

Daryl shakes his head, mumbling that he doesn’t care. You shift your gaze to the firepit, absently digging your boot into the dirt.

After spending a few hours around camp, it’s clear to you who’s close, who’s just friends, and who’s on the outskirts. You glance up and spot Carol sitting with her husband and daughter. Her husband gives you the creeps—something about the way he looked at you earlier. Carol, though, seemed sweet, even if she was quiet. You figure in time, she might open up to you. The sisters, Andrea and Amy, were fine, but Amy’s remark about Merle left a bad taste in your mouth. You couldn’t really blame her, though. Merle was a jackass, the way he spoke to people was downright unbearable at times. But you and Daryl knew a different side of him, as much as Merle let anyone know him. He wasn’t always like that. As a kid, he’d been funny, even sweet. But their father ruined him. Then, Merle left, abandoning you and Daryl to face that monster on your own. Your mom was so absent even when she was in your childhood home, so you found sanctuary in the Dixon house. Or maybe it was just a sanctuary wherever Daryl was. 

The person at camp you couldn’t quite decipher was the woman you found out was Rick’s wife. You were never really around Shane’s friends or spent much time around anyone he knew when you two were together. You might have seen a photo of Lori somewhere with their son Carl, but you never met them. She was…distant. Friendly to your face but short and tense from the few minutes of chatting with them while things got packed up. 

Rick calls out to Daryl, causing you to get up and brush off your pants, following him over to the van.

“You’re stayin here,” Shane says as you approach.

“Like hell I am,” you shoot back, crossing your arms. “Merle’s as much my family as he is Daryl’s.”

“You are not leaving this camp for a douche bag like Merle Dixon,” he growls at you, pointing at Daryl with an accusatory finger. 

“You better choose yer words more wisely,” Daryl snaps.

“No, I did. Douchebag is what I meant,” Shane retorts.

You can’t help but feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, though you quickly stifle it.

Daryl grunts. “I don’t want ‘er outta my sight again, Walsh.” His voice is rough, full of warning.

“Oh yeah, out of your sight, Dixon. When’s the last time you saw her anyway? How many years has it been? When she left for college?” he spits.

Daryl bristles, charging at Shane with his fists clenched. You quickly step between them, holding your hands up.

“Daryl, please,” you say softly, locking eyes with him. “It’s fine. I’ll stay. It’s not a big deal.”

But you’re lying—to Daryl and to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to be left behind. It had been so long since you’d seen Daryl, since you were partners in crime. Truth be told, you didn’t want him out of your sight either. But you knew going to Atlanta was dangerous. You weren’t good with a gun, and you’d only hold them back if things went sideways.

Rick approaches as the others start gathering to leave. You turn away from Daryl, facing Shane.

“I’ll stay. But you,” you jab your finger in Shane’s chest, “you’ve got some explaining to do.”

As the group heads out, you feel the weight of unresolved tension settling over camp. Shane is clearly frustrated with Rick taking such a big part part of the group into Atlanta, while Daryl is with them, fuming about something—whether it’s you, Shane, or just the world at large, you can’t tell.

“Them walkers are gettin closer and closer to camp,” Shane sighs, running his hands over his face.

“Walkers?” you ask, in stride with him. 

“That’s what we’ve been callin’ ‘em,” he says, not looking at you, his tone gruff. He stops walking for a moment, hands on his hips, staring out into the distance. Then, almost reluctantly, he glances back at you. "Alright, spit it out."

You blink, caught off guard. “Spit what out?”

“How’d you end up here? With Daryl?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over. “No one’s telling me anything. I’m just some redneck girl who walked out of the woods with an angry Daryl Dixon, and everyone’s acting like that’s all I am.”

Shane looks at you, then away, clearly uncomfortable. “Can we do this later?” he mumbles, his eyes already darting elsewhere.

Before you can press him, a young voice cuts through the tension. “Shane! Show me how to find the frogs!” You both turn to see Rick’s son, Carl, wiping his eyes as he comes out of his tent. His mother stands in the doorway, her own eyes red and puffy.

Shane’s expression softens as he looks at Carl. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth before he looks back at you. “I’ve got a date with some frogs,” he says, walking away without waiting for a response.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・❥・・❥・・❥・

x flashback x

Your first date with Officer Shane was the most romantic date you’d ever been on. Not that he had much competition—most of your dates had been with high school boys taking you to the lake, their grubby hands creeping under your shirt after a couple of beers. Or they always ended up fleeing once they realized your best friend was Daryl Dixon, who was always nearly in Merle's shadow back then. But Shane was different. He picked you up at 8 p.m. on a Saturday, that shy smile playing on his lips. You could’ve sworn there was a twinkle in his eye when he looked at you. His truck was the cleanest, shiniest vehicle you’d ever stepped foot in, and the new car smell hit you the moment you slid into the passenger seat. Shane leaned over, gently grabbed your hand, and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes glancing up at you.

“I’m happy you came out tonight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

You blushed, shrugging, “Got nothin’ better goin’ on.”

He chuckled, putting the truck in reverse. “I’m sure you and Dixon would’ve gotten up to some kinda trouble.” You smiled at the thought as he backed out of the driveway of your childhood trailer home.

Shane drove you into the heart of Georgia farmland, where the night was quiet, the air crisp, and the sky clear. The truck eventually pulled off the road into an open field, and you glanced over at him, curious. He just smiled, that broad, confident grin of his, and stepped out. You watched him round the front of the truck, opening your door with an old-fashioned charm no boy had ever shown you before. He extended his hand, and you slid out of the passenger seat, your hand in his, warmth spreading up your arm from his firm grip.

Okay, a hot gentleman, you thought, fighting back a grin.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you around to the back of the truck. Your steps faltered when you saw what he’d set up. A wide smile spread across your face. The truck bed was transformed—a soft blanket laid out, pillows scattered around, snacks arranged neatly, and a bottle of wine nestled in a basket. Two glasses sat nearby, everything perfectly strapped down with bungee cords. You turned back to Shane, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of it all.

He was watching you, his warm gaze never leaving your face, his hand still holding yours.

“What do you think?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“I love it,” you whispered back, beaming up at him.

An hour later, you found yourself sitting between Shane’s legs, leaning against the back of the truck. His arm rested around you, his fingers absently stroking your hair while his other hand held a glass of wine. The night was peaceful, the air cool, and the sky scattered with stars.

“What’s your job like?” you asked with a playful smile, looking up at him.

He chuckled. “My job?” He paused for dramatic effect. “I’m the deputy for King County State Police, little lady.”

You laughed, nudging him gently. “So what’s it like?”

He thought for a moment, taking a sip of the deep red wine. “A lot of it is pretty boring,” he admitted. “The serious stuff? It’s just about good judgment—keeping people safe.”

“I can’t wait to get a real job. A career ,” you sighed, staring up at the sky.

Shane glanced down at you, curiosity in his eyes. “What’s your plan?”

You thought about it, your mind wandering past the obvious desire to get out of this town. When you really pictured your life in the next few years, it was more than just leaving.

“I want to help people,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of those words as they hung in the air. Shane’s hand stilled in your hair, and you felt his gaze on you, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath. “I’d love to be a part of the Red Cross. Be sent out to disasters, help those who need it the most. But first, I want to go to college… if I can.”

“You can,” he said softly. “You will.”

You leaned your head back against his chest, looking up at the stars, then back at him. The sky was lit with a million specks of light, vibrant colors streaking through the black night. It took your breath away.

“So beautiful,” you breathed out, marveling at the sight.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes locked on you instead of the sky.

Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・❥・・❥・・❥・

x flash forward x

You walk down to the quarry, the crystal blue water glimmering under the sunlight. Thoughts of Daryl leaving angrily in the van flash through your mind—he barely looked at you today. Something was different. The last time you’d seen him, things hadn’t exactly been good between you two. Back when the world was still normal, you hadn’t spoken for months, maybe longer. But even then, Daryl would never turn his back on you. Today, though, it was like you were just some nobody he found wandering in the woods.

The women are gathered by the water, washing boards in hand, while Shane and Carl splash around near the rocks, laughing. The women talk about the things they miss from before—cars, coffee makers…

“Hey,” you greet quietly, stepping behind them.

Carol glances up with a warm smile. “Hey, come join us,” she says, waving you over. Jaqui, a slender woman with short black hair, dark skin, and kind eyes, scoots over to make room between her and Amy. Carol hands you an extra wash basin and board, her smile soft but welcoming.

You sit quietly with them as they chat, lost in their conversation. Your eyes keep drifting over to Shane, and every once in a while, you catch him glancing back at you, his expression unreadable. You watch as Lori also makes her way down the hill into the quarry, hands on her hips, visibly annoyed. You shake your head, but your ears prick at the sound of the women giggling around you.

“I miss my vibrator,” Andrea says, breaking the quiet. Laughter erupts from the group, and Carol looks around sheepishly. “Me too,” she admits, and the laughter intensifies. You all dissolve into giggles.

Then, heavy footsteps approach from behind, and Ed’s voice cuts through the laughter. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his tone laced with irritation.

“Just swappin’ war stories, Ed,” Andrea replies smoothly, her eyes flicking to yours before returning to her washing. You sigh inwardly—Ed’s not exactly the company you were hoping for. You glance back over to Shane, who’s now deep in a hushed, heated conversation with Lori. She’s pushing at him, clearly angry about something. Your brow furrows. What’s going on between them? You’d think they’d be in better spirits, now that Rick’s back, not to mention Shane’s girlfriend standing right here.

Shane watches Lori turn and head back up the hill, and you watch him, your thoughts spinning. The voices of the women around you escalate, drawing your attention back to them as they crowd around Carol, now standing. Ed’s mood has shifted from irritation to outright anger. He’s yelling something about "prodding the bull," and before you know it, he slams his fist into Carol’s face.

You lunge forward, catching Carol as she crumples into your arms. Shock surges through you, but before you can react, Shane is suddenly there, ripping Ed away from her. His fists crash into Ed’s face, over and over, each punch landing with a sickening thud.

“Shane, please! Shane!” you shout, grabbing his shoulders. He hesitates, pulling back, his breath ragged as he wipes his bloodied knuckles across his sweat-soaked forehead.

You stumble back, wide-eyed and shaken. Ed’s moans mix with Carol’s sobs, the air thick with tension and fear.

[cobwebs-in-autumn]

Ghostface!Reader stalking Johnny and blowing up his phone all the time, playing games with his head and accidentally falling in love as you watch him lose his mind and become paranoid, flinching every time his phone rings. He’s too scared to watch horror movies anymore but that’s okay, you think the film you’ll make with him will be much more entertaining.

[madimuffin75]

Healing my inner child by making Rayman ocs for the first time. Plus a Raysona too I suppose?? Really happy with how they all came out. Still trying to figure out their lore at the moment. What I have so far are the five at the bottom are basically powerful sages that watch over their respective corner of a giant magical island.

They also the created Andromeda!

[explosive-glass-art]

Wowza kremy is a shrimp (he makes the best fryed rice)

I know the snake is eating the bird or whatever but I like to interpret it as the snake saving the bird from falling

So I took that and made it about when Kremy met Gideon ✨

+plus GOD I scrumched kremy tf is that pose

[bluejulius]

Lads am I cooked??

Enjoy this little thing I wrote! I’m not the best writer but it uses my hand better than drawing, so might do more in the future! To the 5 Eretolout fans, please let me know what you think!

[porcelainmortal]

Several Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tags @kiwiana-writes and @thesleepyskipper!

Been a quiet Sunday, but I finally finished my bartender!Alex au. 🥳🥳 It topped out at 10k words, which... is quite a bit longer than planned. But it's done and in beta mode, so I'll be posting it soon! I wrote like 2k words yesterday, so let's have a few of them.

They make it to Henry’s place – he lives in a fancy building with a fucking doorman, which Alex did not see coming – and Henry leads him easily inside.  “Are you inviting me up?” Alex asks cheekily as they wait for the elevator. “Oh, I thought you were being a gentleman and walking me to my door.” “We just went through one door and this is another,” Alex says as the elevator dings and opens in front of them. “Yes, but we’re still not at my door yet.” “Ah,” Alex grins, trying not to worry about how his palm is starting to sweat a bit in Henry’s grip. They make it up to Henry’s floor in tense silence and Alex follows him down the hall.  “This is me,” Henry says, stopping in front of a door that looks like all the rest but is decidedly not. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Alex.” His eyes drop again as Alex leans in slightly. “Are you waiting for something?” “Of course not.” “I’ve been a perfect gentleman,” Alex whispers, swaying ever closer.  “You have.” “Is that what you want?” “No.” “Open the door, Henry.”

👀

Tagging @iboatedhere @cha-melodius @myheartalivewrites @thinkof-england @wordsofhoneydew

@bitbybitwrites @caterpills @cricketnationrise @inexplicablymine @anincompletelist

@theprinceandagcd @three-drink-amy @littlemisskittentoes @ninzied @getmehighonmagic and an open tag for anyone that wants it!

[guppygiggles]

Alright, so...

For a while, I've been wanting to start an AU where all of my characters (As of writing: Casper, Avery, Finnegan (formerly Fishper), Darkside (name rework pending), and Null (complete redesign pending)) can interact. Below is a preview of that!

I am still planning on continuing my main fic with Casper + Avery (Like Real People Do), so don't worry that I have abandoned that project! I just wanted more creative freedom in terms of using my characters, so this AU is just meant to be a framework for that. This is meant to be more episodic, rather than a linear story like my fic.

The way Casper and Avery meet in this AU is the same as in my fic, although the world itself is quite different. Unlike the main story, in this universe there are many non-human races other than cloud elementals.

I don't have a lot of the other details fleshed out yet, but I wrote a short fic below to formally introduce Fishper (whose name going forward will be Finnegan) and kind of allude to the relationship dynamics between him, Avery, and Casper.

That was probably more explanation than was needed. Oops! Anyway --

LOTS OF TICKLES AHEAD! Enjoy! 💙

+++++

"Hey, why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?"

"Fishper. I mean, not that I don't like it, but... I have a name."

We sat on the end of the pier, legs dangling between the wooden slats of the guardrail. Far beyond Avery's lighthouse, the sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, painting the summer sky in shades of pink and orange. It was difficult to believe that just a year ago, I had crashed my skateboard into the same railing, leading to my chance encounter with the cloudman.

Though the world was filled with all kinds of non-human races -- I was sitting next to a triton, after all -- it was the first time I'd ever met an elemental, especially one like him. Prior to meeting Avery, I'd never even heard of cloudfolk. I'd mostly kept company with other humans until that day; since then, I'd become acquainted with all kinds of races, including merfolk like Fish. The scaly humanoid had washed up on the rocky outcropping around Avery's lighthouse during a particularly bad storm, and had been taken in by the elemental until he recovered. What could I say -- the gentle scientist was practically a magnet for those in need! We'd only known each other for about a month, but the excitable guppy and I had become fast friends.

"Well, you couldn't speak for the first few days after we found you, so... I had to call you something! It was really Avery's idea, though; he said you were just like me, so he gave you a name like mine. You could've told me sooner that you had a name, though! What is it?" I turned to look at him. He was grinning, swinging his legs in time with the flopping of his huge tail against the pier's wooden boards. I was a little embarrassed that I knew almost nothing about his race; only that some non-human races didn't use traditional names, so I figured it was possible he didn't have one.

"Ehehe, I just liked that you gave me a nickname! My real name is Finnegan, but most people just call me Finn."

"Awww, that's cute! Very fitting for you, too." I smirked, reaching over to give a light tickle to his finned ear. He squealed, shaking his head as his ears fluttered.

"Eee-HEEE! Hehey!"

I snickered. He was great to play with; very sensitive, with big, bubbly reactions. His scales were soft, supple, and surprisingly warm to the touch. I never would've expected a fish to be cuddly, but as of the past week, he'd been sneaking into mine and Avery's bed at night for a snuggle when he couldn't sleep. Insomnia -- like many things, we shared that, too.

"What's wrong? I thought you liiiiiked being tickled~" I teased, sneaking a finger under his arm and wiggling a bit. He laughed, then -- loud and clear, his high, giggly howling riding above the sound of the waves. He flopped back onto the pier, squirming as I readjusted my position to get a better angle on him.

"EHEH-HEE!" He screeched as my fingers danced gently along his ribcage. Despite all his flailing, he did little to try and stop me.

"This shirt looks familiar. Oh, wait. That's because it's my shirt! You stole my clothes out of the dryer again, didn't you!" I admonished playfully, sliding my hands under his -- MY -- shirt to tickle his pale, soft belly. Given that it was the most tender spot on him (and the most ticklish, as far as I could tell), I took particular care not to hurt him, my fingertips lightly spidering over the surface as if gliding on ice.

He was quickly in hysterics, wriggling beneath my fingers like a... well. Like a fish!

"AHAHA-HEEE! I DOHOHOOO!"

"You do what, ticklefish?" I asked, grinning as I gently pinched along his sides.

"I-EHEEEE! I LIHIHIKE T-TIHIHICKLES!"

I blushed. I'd never known Finn to be shy... after all, he offered very little resistance when tickled, and had always seemed to enjoy it... but I wasn't expecting an outright admission. How did he do that...? Unprompted, and while being tickled, no less!

It took me a moment to realize I had stopped tickling, and he was staring at me, tears in the corners of his yellow eyes.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, a curious smile showing off his jagged teeth. They were more than a little crooked, lending him an air that was a bit goofy, rather than menacing as most triton tended to be. The end of his tail wagged, thumping repeatedly against the wood.

"You want me to keep going...?" I asked, staring down at him with raised brows... and an affectionate smile of my own. Who could resist that?

"Ehehe, yeah! It's fun!" He raised his arms high and laid back, giving me full access to his torso, and making me blush even more. What kind of society had he grown up in, to foster such boldness?! I choked back my own fluster, trying to look impish and intimidating. I was the ler, after all... I couldn't fold over a little unexpected compliance!

"Alright, fishflake, you asked for it... literally." I giggled in spite of myself; it was too hard not to. Finn didn't seem to mind, though. He giggled right back, which was a relief, for me -- gosh, he was easy.

I lifted his -- again, my! -- shirt up, this time, exposing his belly to the dying light. The stars had begun to appear, and Avery would be expecting us home, soon.

"Last tickle, okay? This belly of yours needs dinner, soon," I said, gently patting his belly to the tune of more happy tittering. Then I went to work, skittering my digits all over his tummy again. I didn't spare his navel that time, either; my fingertip wiggled right into it, causing him to emit a gleeful shriek as he kicked his scaly feet.

"AAAAHAHA-HEEHEEEE!"

He squirmed, but it was easy to follow his movements, as his intention clearly wasn't to squirm away. My hands moved from the center of his belly to his sides, then began to crawl upward, counting along his ribs.

"How many ribs does a fish have? Maybe we should count and see."

"EEEEEE! I DOHOHNT KNOHOWWW!"

"One, two, three... oops! I lost count. Can't you stay still? Now I have to start over!"

"AAAHEHEE! I CAHAHAHAN'T!"

"Ooooone, twoooo, threee..." As I counted each rib, I lightly wiggled each one with the pads of my fingertips. This got plenty of howling from him -- it was a good thing we were alone on the pier, otherwise I was sure his loud cackling would have been quite the spectacle!

Despite how it clearly tickled, Finn somehow managed to keep his arms up. I had to hand it to him... he was even more resilient than me!

"How about here, Finny~?" I taunted, suddenly jumping from his ribs to his armpits. They were nearly as soft as his belly, pale and smooth beneath my whirling fingertips.

He squawked again, followed by a gale of laughter, his body tossing back and forth against the pier. To my astonishment... he still kept his arms up!

"Tickle, tickle... Cooooooochie coo, ticklefish! You're just ticklish all over, aren't you?" I continued to tease, giggling as he laughed uproariously, his gamine face flushed dark green with laughter. Slowing to a stop, I reached up and took his hands, pulling his arms down and helping him to sit up. He looked a bit dizzy, a tickle-drunk grin on his face. I chuckled, ruffling his hair.

"Come on, Avery's probably waiting to pick us up. If we don't hurry, I'm sure there will be a serious tickling for both of us after dinner." I shivered at the thought of an Avery tickling, getting to my feet and pulling Finn up with me. He wobbled a bit, and then righted himself, giggling.

"Ehehehe... that's fine by me~!"

[stars-n-spice]

Trying Something - "BTB" Pilot Start

What's this?? Max actually starting on a project??

Lmao, let's pray I follow through with this one because I realize now how much work it'll actually be. Oh well!

Anyways, had this idea to do a Clone Wars era mockumentary sitcom and write actual scripts for this hypothetical show for fun and also to practice screenwriting since that's my major and I could use the practice.

The working title is currently "Behind the Barracks" but I am open for suggestions!!

Do I know where I'm going with this? No. Absolutely not.

But it's fun!

Anyways, enjoy these first couple of pages of the pilot episode I'm currently writing :)

The format might be,, strange to anyone who is familiar with how scripts work (specifically the single-cam tv format) but I'm using StudioBinder's script writing service (which is a little wonky) because the other script services I know of cost money and I'm a broke college student-

That being said, if anyone knows of any free script writing programs (?) I would greatly appreciate it if you let me know about them <33 Please and thank you!

Anyways, hope you enjoyed that little bit of the pilot!

If you would like to be on a tag list for the full pilot once it's finished, let me know!

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

snippet.

Feyre splayed supine on her bed, fingers twisting, smoothing out, and re-twisting the cotton soft sheets. She counted the seconds with the movement. One, twist, two, smooth, three, twist. It’d been five hours since the bay party, two since her and Tarquin’s walk along Adriata’s docks, and exactly 68 minutes and 49 seconds since her very stupid confession.

We came here to steal it.

Feyre really didn’t think she could be faulted. Rhysand shouldn’t have expected this of her, to boldly lie and deceive someone who trusted so easily. Her bloodstained hands already made her feel wretched; she couldn’t, wouldn’t, add breaking Tarquin’s trust to her list of things that kept her up at night.

A familiar, ugly voice rose in her mind. You also don’t want him to stop looking at you that way.

No. No, she didn’t.

Dawn came ever closer and soon she’d have to endure Rhysand’s anger and Amren’s scolding but until then Feyre had her seconds; one, twist, two, smooth, three, twist.

And, she smiled softly, a token of the sea.

[dev-posting]

first two pages of my comic about climate disaster and remembering to love and fight for what is left

[gracebriarwoodwrites]

I decided I was going to attempt NaNoWriMo this year and didn't pick the WIP I actually wanted to work on until TODAY

and it's the darkest thing I've ever tried to write. It's the one that wants to be written, though, so I'm going for it. I'll drop a bit more information about it later, but I just wanted to make my intentions known!