#it really did make me appreciate every character for what makes them special

[earl-grey-love]

I finished reading the manga yesterday. As a whole, it was really cute and fun to see the story from a new perspective. The visual novel style of the game is fun but quite limited in its POV. I especially liked how the demon forms + pact making were shown.

There were quite a few changes to how the story went, which was interesting. But considering it was standalone (plus the reveal in the last 3 pages), it was necessary to tell the story. It did make me feel far more sympathetic to Bel than the original game.

Obviously, my favourite parts all had Barbs in them. It was interesting to see how he was presented and introduced in that way. He's objectively terrifying. They all are to some degree but he's next level.

I just adore how silly the entire concept of the game is. Very cute and wholesome despite how in the pitch it shouldn't be.

[randombush3]

(extremely talented, creative) stalker

alexia putellas x reader

based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.

happy monday people x

p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)

Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media. 

She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd. 

There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.  

So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave. 

With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand. 

It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail. 

Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves. 

The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised. 

“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her. 

Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.” 

“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?” 

The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist. 

“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–” 

You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries. 

Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them. 

Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off? 

“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.” 

“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly. 

“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?” 

The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room. 

She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display. 

“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.” 

“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.” 

“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot. 

“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”

“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?” 

You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters. 

“I haven’t heard of her.” 

Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action. 

“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?” 

“I know the main four.” 

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” 

“No.” 

Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted. 

“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position. 

“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put. 

“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot. 

“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.” 

And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then. 

(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.) 

“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.” 

“Bedroom?”

The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant. 

“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.” 

Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?” 

“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator. 

Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.” 

She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected. 

You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.” 

“Sell wh– The painting?” 

“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.” 

“You’ve been… flirting with me?” 

“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?” 

She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated. 

Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls. 

She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation. 

“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.” 

You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her. 

“Y/n, darling, where are you?” 

An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.

The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

bestie i'm new to the world of fics and it would be great if you could recommend me some good iconic stories to read 🥰pleasee ❤️

OHHH WELCOME BABY! 💞💞

Hope you'll find the great comfort they offer to all of us too!

I'm thrilled to do this so I'm gonna start immedietaly! Don't know what's your taste is so I'm gonna recommend many different stories I have loved! 😊

A Toast To The Future by @narryffdreaming is one of my favorite stories ever and I truly believe it's one of the most beautifully written stories I've ever read. 🙏 The way Dani approaches the past experiences of the characters and their emotions is impressive. I am always fascinated by stories that are authentic and the way that story is written makes you feel seen even if your experiences are not exactly the same as the characters. 💞 (can't wait to read the next part)

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't) by @narryffdreaming again because I just love her work! Friends to lovers trope (i loooove this trope sm) and it has everything: angst, fluff, romance, softness, smut, everything! Everything just flows so nicely!

When Y/N dates someone, they find their soulmate…it’s never her by @jawllines is super cute and lovely and made me giggle and blushing! It's such an unique concept and I just loved it!

Harry and Y/N are in the same ballet class, and they hate each other by @jawllines again and what can I say? Pure enemies to lovers story that has you in a chokehold. Everything about it is perfect! 😍

Daddy Issues by the amazing @fkinavocado is jaw dropping, I mean it! It's one of the first long stories I read in here so it's special to me. 🙏 Dreea delivered the great combination of spicy and softness with this story.

Sex Tutor by @gurugirl ! I really liked the way she wrote about this topic and it felt like she did it with so much respect (as she always does) and I just really had a great time reading it.

404 by my pookie @freedomfireflies 💗is one of my favorite stories ever and I feel like I have to tattoo this to my skin at this point. 😂 It's enemies to lovers and you can feel the tension from a mile. Also 404rry is the most annoyingly adorable characher ever and I just adore him. 🤗💗

Teach Me by miss @freedomfireflies again and let's just say that this series is on FIRE. A friends to lovers story that makes you feel things. One thing I love about this story is that the two characters share a deep love and respect for each other and I feel like it's such an important point.

Grumpy H and

You're my Last Shot by @cupid-styles are so cute and I had a great reading them! The flow is amazing in both of them and they are so well written.

Old Grudges ,

Just How Fast the Night Changes ,

The Sun Will Rise and

Valerie by @watchmegetobsessed are litterally amazing! Loved these stories so much! I come back to them from now and then and I have the same feeling every time I read them. 🥰

Harry’s a dick, and Y/N hates him for it. by @harrys-titties is so HSHJSHSSJ I just loved it! So beautifully written and it has everything: tension, angst, smut, romance!

Hawthorn by @adorebeaa is so beautiful! I enjoyed it so much! It is not finished yet but it is worth it! Again it's an enemies to lovers story and it really plays like a movie in your head! 💕

I got carried away a little bit hehe and I'm sure that if I continue I won't be able to stop lol. I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did! 💕

P.S Τhere are many other great authors that I didn't include in this post because I might just forgot them at the moment (sometimes when you need to remember something specific you just can't, your mind is just stuck ugh) or because I might not have come across their work yet so I don't want anyone to feel bad. Your work is always appreciated. 💗

Byeee xoxo

[houseki-no-suffering]

Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!

I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3

And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha

I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.

I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.

As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.

If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.

Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.

I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.

Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.

Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.

Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.

Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.

This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.

They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...

Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.

It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.

Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.

In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.

[mwalani]

Lynette with gn reader whose love language is physical touch? but they’re hesitant to initiate it much since they’re worried about making her uncomfortable? (Pretty please)

୧ BUT I FINALLY GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE'S THE BOMB ⊹ ও

⌗ whispers. . . Hello!!! Sorry for taking so long to post something 😭🙏 also, idk if I'll write like, 80% of the requests I got because almost all of them are for Lyney or another guy and I REALLY wanted to write for fem characters. So I might take them off my list, even if I didn't wanted to 😭

ᯓᡣ𐭩 lynette x gn!reader (romantic)

⁀➴ including : reader whose love language is physical touch but is afraid to initiate it

⊹ warnings : none

☆˚⊹ her feelings about it ꒰ 🪄 ꒱ ˚୨

★ lynette isn't really the most verbal person, so she probably doesn't speak up about her feelings unless you ask.

☆ but she generally wouldn't mind if you were to hold her hands or anything small like that in public without really saying before doing it.

★ if you want a kiss though, lynette appreciates if you ask her for one if you're in public. not that she would say no, she just doesn't like being kissed everywhere.

☆˚⊹ how much does she likes it? ꒰ 🪄 ꒱ ˚୨

★ lynette genuinely likes when you scratch the back of her ears, or hold her hands. it isn't something too noticeable to others, but really affectionate between you and her.

☆ other things such as kissing or hugging are more in the private or special occasions. she doesn't mind every once in a while though!

★ if you want to cuddle her, you will have to be the big spoon. if you don't want to, it's fine, but she generally prefers being the little spoon!

☆˚⊹ short scenario ꒰ 🪄 ꒱ ˚୨

"is everything alright?" — lynette suddenly asked you, when everyone were finally out of sight.

"huh? what do you mean?"

"you've been staring at me every other minute with pleading eyes, you must want something." — her tone was her usual one, but still with a soft lace on it.

even if you knew she would notice it, being caught still got you embarrassed enough to look away for a second before returning her eyes.

"w..well, I've been wanting to... cuddle, you, but I didn't know how to ask that.."

seeing you actually open up made lynette's ear move slightly, but her face remained the same.

"why haven't you said this before?" — she was now more confused than ever. did you not trust her enough to say something as little as this? or maybe you're just shy?

"because I thought you'd be uncomfortable.." — you saw her blink once. twice.

"uncomfortable?"

now, even more nervous and embarrassed you continued.

"yeah... you know... you're usually so reserved that I thought that just maybe you wouldn't like physical touch-"

you saw lynette silently smiling at you, which could be considered more as a smug.

"I can't blame you for thinking this, but you still need to ask me before jumping into conclusions. after all, I wouldn't mind some cuddles from you."

that was quite the surprise for you. and definetly made your eyes widen.

"wait, really?"

"mhm. as long as it's just us, there's no problem in that."

[a-magical-artist]

Welp this was a long time coming

I've been slammed between health, work, and other fandoms so this had to wait for a while. Yes I made it just today. It is hot off the press. I dunno what I'm gonna do with it besides posting here as I always do.

Does her arm look like it's missing? Yes kind of. I used someone resting their head on a record player as the pose base and the arm wasn't visible

Magia Record and PMMM ended up being a lot more special to me than I expected (stumbled across it in high school), and I'm sad to see the game go; given what happened with the anime, I can only hope the manga will try and be faithful to the game, but time will tell. I really loved getting to know all the characters; gacha this may have been, that meant they had to develop every girl they introduced, and while there were a couple misses (IMO), many of them were amazing. Silly outfits for a few aside sdfghjk I don't think I've seen such an expansive spinoff before, and I'll always appreciate the Doppels for building on the Witch System the way they did

I also didn't think I'd end up connecting with the community when I first got into the game; I may be shy and not be as active here as my main community, but I really enjoyed getting to know everyone here and even with MR archived and the game gone, I hope I can keep doing that in the future ✨🎀

Took a break from a massive writing project for this and I may make a few more pieces...at least a few more not on such short notice lol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: we're almost through the week.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky 

Bucky can smell her body soap as it wafts off her. Everything about her makes him giddy. Just walking beside her, getting to look at her, getting to talk to her!

And now, he’s taking her out to lunch. Almost like a real date.

He’s antsy to get to the restaurant. He tried to measure his patience as best he could as he fixed the lock. While she showered and dressed in the small bathroom, he paced her apartment, taking the chance to adjust a few of the cameras. Better, he can see the door.

He is mindful not to walk too fast for her. She seems to be moving a little better. If it’s the short nap she took or the shower, he’s not sure, but he’s happy for it.

She’s shy. He knows she’s often alone and keeps to herself but she sends him sheepish glances only to quickly look away each time their eyes meet. Her heart continues to race just as it did when she awoke to the intruder. 

He steps ahead of her and opens the door of the noodle shop. She looks up and her eyes scan the sign then the windows. She lifts her cane in ahead of her as she steps through, “this place is good.”

He smiles. He hasn’t been back since the first time he saw her. Now he’s with her and he can hardly believe it. He follows her in as Mrs. Zhao greets them. She shows her surprise with a clap and a squeal.

“You brought a friend,” she muses.

“Uh, yeah,” he answers as the woman leans on her cane, stuck in limbo between them.

“Let me get you seated,” Zhao speaks to her and ushers her along as Bucky trails behind. They sit in a booth as menus await them and Mrs. Zhao bows before she leaves them. 

She, his companion, his date, nestles her cane against the wall of the booth and her eyes flit around. She peeks at the menu then at him. She folds her hands in her lap, making no move to peruse the options further.

“You come here a lot? She knows you?” She glances towards the kitchen.

“Ah, yeah,” he answers with a nervous chuckle, “I don’t always have the energy to cook so…”

She nods and shifts on the seat. He sees how her cheek ticks and she grips the edge of the table to adjust her posture. He flutters his fingers over the laminated menu.

“Is it okay? Are you uncomfortable?” He leans forward.

“Fine,” she ekes out and brings her fingertips to the edge of the menu.

“Right, um, well, if you want a little padding you could sit on my jacket,” he offers.

Her lips curve softly and her brows raise, “that’s really nice but I’m okay.”

She looks down again at the menu. He sees how she chews her lip and slants her mouth. He knows exactly what she’s looking at. Not the dishes but the prices. It's a habit. He’s been there too. Pinching every penny, darning every sock and sleeve until it’s too frayed to mend, stretching broth with water, and washing with no soap. His bad days are over and he wants to help end hers too.

“How about we do the meal for two special,” he offers as he sees her fixate on the sides section. Three spring rolls isn’t going to stop the growling in her stomach that awoke the minute they stepped inside. “It’s a good deal. You can pick the type of noodle.”

“Oh, uh,” she taps her fingers, “I guess… if it makes sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he insists. He knows the portions are generous. They’ll get enough for her to take a box home, especially with the rolls and salad on the side. “Do you like Udon or chow mein?”

“I like both,” she says, “udon, maybe, if you like it.”

“Sounds good to me. Broth? I don’t really like the beef, it hurts my stomach.”

“Pork’s good,” she suggests, “if you want.”

“Sure,” he agrees, heartened that she didn’t push back on his idea. She needs a good meal, not half a cup of oatmeal with six raisins on top. 

“Tea,” Mrs. Zhao interrupts, a tray in her hand. She sets it down, presenting a big slate gray pot and matching cups.

“Thanks,” he says as she echoes him in a small voice. He gives their order and Mrs. Zhao leaves them with a rosy smile, a definitive look sent from one to the other.

He pours tea into the cups and sets one in front of her. She looks at the contents then him. She thanks him and leans in to inhale the scent. Her stomach rumbles viciously and she winces.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” He asks, turning his own cup nervously.

“Um, since high school,” she answers, “so… a while. What about you?”

“Born and raised,” he says proudly. “Always happen to come back.”

She nods and blows across the tea but doesn’t drink as the steam puffs hotly. Her eyes flit over and her stomach grumbles again. She watches another table as they clink cutlery on their dishes. She’s fighting it but she’s starving.

“Uh, wow, didn’t even realise I’m so hungry,” he says, “I don’t even think I had dinner last night.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs and turns her eyes to the table, “and you didn’t get much sleep. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m a bit of an insomniac. Got a bit restless last night and good thing I did or I wouldn’t have been able to scare that guy off, huh,” he stills the cup and flicks his thumb around the curve of the rim.

“I guess,” she puts her hands to her neck and shivers, “that was really scary.”

“Well it’s a good thing I deal with scary people all the time,” he says, “lot of people say the same about me so I guess that helps.”

“Oh,” she bats her lashes and her eyes meet his, “I didn’t mean–”

“I know, I’m joking,” he assures her. She’s so jumpy, he wonders if that has anything to do with her limp. If maybe she’s afraid of everyone and everything for a reason. Well, she won’t have to be, not with him.

“Ah,” she forces a smile, “right.”

“Hey, you held your own,” he sits up straighter, “you swing that cane like a champ.”

“Yeah, ha,” she laughs, just a small one as he reaches for the tea cup again, “I… I hit that guy.”

He chuckles too, “you did. Honestly, I think after that, there’s no way he’ll be back.”

Her

You try to eat slowly and it doesn’t take much before you’re painfully full. You put the chopsticks down and take a napkin to wipe your mouth. Bucky smiles at you, a noodle hanging from his lips as he slurps it up.

“Sorry,” he covers his mouth, “caught me at a bad moment.”

“It’s good, I… I’m full,” you look at the noodles still left in your bowl.

“Oh, no worries, we’ll just ask for a container,” he says, “be good to have some leftovers in the fridge… just in case.”

“Uh, yeah,” you agree. You wonder if maybe he saw inside your empty fridge or he just means well.

“I’m getting there myself,” he stirs his bowl with his chopsticks.

She nods and he raises his hand as he sees Mrs. Zhao, the namesake for the restaurant, “excuse me, hi, sorry, whenever you have a chance.”

She acquiesces and rushes off. He sits back and smacks his stomach, “mm, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very good,” you agree.

Mrs. Zhao returns and offers the bill to Bucky. You look away, embarrassed.

“I forgot to mention, can you add a box of tea,” he hands it back.

She agrees and whisks off again. You sit in silence, awkwardly searching the restaurant. You would offer to pay for your own but you can’t. You’re dirt poor. You can’t help but think he knows it too. No one is that nice. It only takes one look around your place to see it.

Zhao returns once more, sets a box of tea before him and some containers, then the bill. He pays in cash and tells her to keep the change. She chimes thankfully and wishes you both a good day. You pour your noodles into the container and seal the lid. Bucky does the same.

You grab your cane and turn on the bench, dragging yourself across to plant it on the floor. You brace the table and stand as he does so much easier than you. He takes his container and yours, stacking them atop each other, then the tea on the very top.

“Oh, thanks,” you utter as you get your feet set.

“No problem,” he grins.

He waits for you to go first. You make a slow, uneven advance to the door. You keep your eyes straight as you refuse to notice the glances sent in your direction. The lucky cat by the door waves in farewell as you approach.

Bucky reaches past you and opens the door before you can. You limp out into the street. Your hip burns from the thin cushion of the booth bench.

“That was nice,” he says as he walks beside you, again patiently keeping pace with you.

“It was,” you agree, “it’s really kind of you.”

“You act like having lunch with a pretty girl is a chore,” he jokes.

You scoff, “please.”

“Please what,” he tilts his head.

Your chest pinches and your face heats up, “you’re just being nice.”

“No,” he argues, “I don’t lie.”

A sudden flash glares to your left and your toe catches in the sidewalk. You stagger and land on one knee, the pavement dinging the bony cap harshly as you catch yourself with a hand. Your cane clatters beside you as you look around in confusion.

“Hey, what the hell?” Bucky barks, his voice deeper and scarier than before. “Don’t do that.”

You glance over at a man with a large camera. He blanches from behind the lens but takes another photo. Bucky shifts as if he might lunge at the photographer and he runs off.

Bucky sighs and reaches to grab your arm, gentle but firm.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks in concern, his other arm hugging the containers.

“Yeah, I didn’t see him. I’m sorry, I must’ve stepped on a crack–”

“That jack– guy should be apologising,” he sneers, “so rude.”

“Yeah, I…” you hiss as you grab your cane. He holds onto you, helping you rise, but not too quickly, “I… why would he…” you peer over your shoulder then back to him, “are you famous?”

He huffs and shrugs, “I guess to some people.”

You furrow your brow and let your shoulders sink, “oh.”

“I don’t really think about it, you know? I got a job and I do it. All the attention, I hate it,” his hand slips down your arm and reluctantly falls away. You swallow and turn back down the sidewalk. He walks with you, quiet for a moment before he speaks again, “does that mean you don’t wanna be friends?”

You think as your cane taps between your footsteps, “I didn’t… No, I just…” you take a breath, “I’ve never known anyone famous.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he sighs.

“Yeah, seems like.”

[solar-wing]

⚣ BatBro with his BatBros 🦇

⚣ 🦇 A/N → Ah, my first full installment of BatBro headcanons. Where does the time go? Anyway, as we progress throughout these headcanons, you can imagine the characters slowly getting older too. By, the time we get to the end, the reader is at least 18 years old making Damian anywhere between 18-19 years old, since he's a few months older.

⚣ 🦇 Summary → Going from the life of an only child, to having 4+ siblings, can't be easy. Especially when most of those siblings brothers, and those brothers come from a family a crime-stopping vigilantes. What was your mother thinking in leaving you with your dad?

REBLOGS are very appreciated! REPLIES to, I love hearing your thoughts 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦇

I find it funny that no one has ever thought to take advantage of the fact that Bruce Wayne has created a habit of popping up with a new kid like every couple of years. They could try to offer up their kids to him in hopes of cashing in on the Wayne family's wealth.

And he actively turns away all of them, even if he is tempted a couple of times. At least until he gets to you. Everything was normal until your mom decided one day she was done being a parent and just dropped you off at the front gate and left when you were 9 years old. This is also around the same time Damian ended up in Bruce's care, so you both were now dealing with the fact that you've suddenly got a father you never knew, as well as a brother. Well, brothers, since Bruce did somewhat actually have children before he had you guys. 

She left a note along with your other belongings that said “Trust me. He yours,” with nothing else. Bruce could only stare down at you with that usual grim, but pondering look he had while you just stared back at him. 

“I’d thought you be taller,” was your first sentence towards your dad. One that was vaguely familiar to the billionaire as he rolled his eyes and led you inside the manor.

Obviously, Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed everything to be true. You were indeed his son, snarky remarks and all. You and Damian must share that quality.

Speaking of, since you and Damian were blood-related, you have a more special bond with each other. Even if he bullies the shit out of you.

Hiding your toys and games all around the manor, stabbing your favorite teddy bears and various stuffed items with his knives and daggers, and I'm just going to throw in that you have a love-hate relationship with Scooby-Doo now.

You love the cartoon, but Damian took advantage of the fact that you may not do well with scary stuff and would make his own costume versions of the villains from the show and chased you around the house with them. They were horrifying and disturbing enough to even unsettle Bruce a little, so you could imagine the early childhood trauma you endured.

People think your fear of clowns stems from the Joker. No, it's from Damian.

It’s always from Damian.

Plus, since you and Damian are around the same age, you both end up in the same grade at the same school. So he always keeps a look out for you and protects you from any bullies, while you teach him how to be more sociable and friendly towards others.

Now, if Damian's closest relationship with another brother outside of you is Dick (who you along with everyone else agree that he is basically Damian's second father), I imagine you have a close relationship with both Jason and Tim for various reasons.

You and Tim connect because you both have very intellectual and detail-oriented minds. You watch Scooby-Doo, so you obviously have an interest in mysteries as well as the Red Robin personality. Whenever he is having a hard time connecting dots to a case or a puzzle, you simply come in, take one look and somehow figure it out. Sometimes, you’ll even just make a random statement that ends up being the key to what Tim is looking for.

Tim and you both have an interest in video games, you a little bit more than him. It was because of you that he even really got into them. Before, when it was just you and your mom, you didn’t have anyone to really play with, besides whatever friends you could find online. So having someone you could play with, especially in person now made you and Tim’s bond that more special.

Also, you’ve made it your responsibility to make sure the guy gets adequate rest and sleep and doesn’t drown himself in caffeine.

“Timothy Drake! It is way past your bedtime. Off the Bat-Computer and upstairs into bed young man.” You yelled, marching downstairs with an amused Alfred towing behind.

Your father and siblings all watched from the sidelines as well, all amused at the sight of your young, tiny body, yelling at a slightly older and taller teenager as if you were his father.

“Um, I’m older than you,” Tim responded while holding on to what had to be his 5th coffee of the evening.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Master Tim, with all due respect, I’d do what the young lad says. He’s already started unplugging and cutting the cords to every coffee and espresso machine in the manor.” Alfred said from behind.

Tim looked at you in horror while you stared at him the look on your face very much communicating a ‘try me if you want to’ message, and that’s when he noticed the pair of scissors in your hands.

“OKAY! I’M GOING! I’M GOING!” Tim shouted, sprinting out of his seat and up to his room. Your brothers were quietly laughing until you turned your head right to them.

“And, what are you three laughing at?! Get to bed right now.”

Now, it was their turn to question you. Cause Dick and Jason were full adults and even though Damian was only a few months older than you, well that was it. He was older than you so he bossed you around, not the other way,

“Woah, there little man. Jason and I, we’re grown. We don’t have bedtimes.” Dick said.

“Yeah, squirt.” Jason voiced right behind Dick with his arms crossed.

“Watch yourself, little brother,” Damian warned.

You raised a subtle eyebrow at them while your father and Alfred both looked at you with curiosity.

Alfred, however, had a little more amusement to his look since he already knew where this was headed.

“Dick, I will never have another brother movie night with you again, and I’ll start going to Jason for brotherly advice instead of you. Also, I’ll tell Kory you were being mean to me.” You threatened your oldest brother.

Dick was both hurt and fearful because how could you even threaten him with something that awful and quite frankly, plain rude and ridiculous. He gave way better advice than Jason! Also, he knew Kory absolutely adored you ever since Bruce brought you to the tower that one time and would not hesitate to put him on punishment as well if she even thought he was being mean to you.

Jason was holding a smug look at your threat toward Dick, that is until your eyes landed on him. “Jason, I know where you keep all of your limited edition books, especially your prized signed copy of Pride & Prejudice. We certainly don’t want that getting in the wrong hands, now do we,” You said, turning to your second oldest sibling. Jason was surprised, and slightly impressed, though also terrified. How could you know?!

You turned to your blood-related brother, who held a bit of an overconfident look as there wasn’t anything you could have over him that would have him actually following your orders. “And Damian, I’m sure you don’t want dear old Dad to know what happened at school last week, now do you?” You said, playing slightly with your fingernails while ‘innocently’ rocking back on your feet as if you weren’t blackmailing your siblings. For noble reasons, of course. They need their sleep!

Your brother was both shocked and angry at your statement. How did you even know about that? The look on his face, well, let’s just say it wasn’t friendly, not in the slightest.

But, to no one’s surprise except your dad, all your siblings silently trudged upstairs without another word.

Bruce looked at you and Alfred with a raised eyebrow as you turned back to face your brooding father, only now you could see his brooding look had a hint of questionable curiosity and amazement. 

“You too, daddio. It’s bedtime, yo.” You rhymed. Apparently, not only was everyone’s sleep tracker, but you had a bit of flow with it too. Someone should get you a record deal. 

You gave your dad a slight hug, your head barely reaching above his waist. You still had growing to do! You’d get there eventually.

Walking back toward the entrance, you also made sure to stop and give the butler a fist bump since he was your secret partner-in-crime. How else would you know where to hit to get your brothers to fall in line? with a slight hug to his side before heading back towards the entrance. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” You said!

“Anytime, Master Y/N.”

Bruce eyed you both suspiciously before he realized what was going on as he watched your small body bounce up the stairs.

“Really? You’re in cahoots with my son, Alfred?”

“Why, Master Bruce, I’m offended. I’d say it was more of a beneficial partnership. Cahoots is for the reckless.” Alfred responded jokingly.

The age-old ending to every mystery novel plays out again, the butler did it.

Though, Bruce was still impressed by how easily your brothers listened to you without a second thought. It takes him a few tries just to get a sentence through their head, and that’s if they were actually listening to him that time.

“Wow, he got Jason to listen to him? I still can’t get Jason to greet me without looking him looking like he wants to punch my lights out.” Bruce commented.

“He has your commanding tone, sir,” Alfred said before backing up the manor himself, “I wouldn’t let Master Y/N catch you back down here, though. I heard he’s got some especially dirty leverage on you.”

Bruce suddenly decided to look at the clock, “Guess it is a little late,” He muttered before rushing upstairs himself.

Speaking of Jason, your relationship with the second adopted Wayne kid had more of a special touch. The Red Hood persona was the brother you really looked up to. You liked and respected how he branched out and followed his own path. Of course, Dick technically did the same, but considering everything Jason went through, he had to be one determined fucker to return to the very life that killed him. And, even though you don't necessarily agree with his 'strategies', you were always standing in his corner.

Though, Jason didn’t take well to you at first. In fact, because Damian left such a bad taste in his mouth after they met; when you two were introduced, he literally ran upstairs and screamed at Bruce about how he was the biggest hypocrite in the world for all those lectures he gave him and Dick about using protection. Richard silently agreed, also remembering his first meeting with Damian. 

Determined to not live with a Damian 2.0, and also thinking he was saving you from a life full of trauma because, in his mind, no one deserved to be raised by someone like Bruce Wayne, Jason attempted to take you down to child protective services. 

Your father was very unhappy when he got a call from CPS later that day and he could clearly hear you sobbing on the other side of the phone just as Jason walked through the front door. He was not the least bit ashamed, at least until you came home and he saw how upset you were.

He apologized and decided to give you a chance, thinking since the whole ordeal actually had you crying, you had to somewhat have a soul, unlike Damian. After some time, you got really close with each other. 

Jason taught you how to fight and defend yourself. He’d read you stories at night from some of your favorite books as well as your own, and he’d always get Damian to back off if he decided to pull another one of his scare antics on you. 

Your second eldest brother was your get-out-of-jail card too, whenever Bruce punished you for something. Though, sometimes, it may have just been better to take the punishment than let Jason pull you into whatever shenanigans he was planning. Considering the fact you and he managed to put an entire city without power for two nights somehow.

"How did you two manage to short-circuit the entire electrical grid in New York?" Bruce asked with you two standing side by side, looking like you just finished sleeping on top of a giant summer barbeque grill.

You both looked at each other before turning back to your stern-looking father, Damian mirroring his expression with his arms crossed and tapping his feet.

"Would you believe us if we said it started over a debate of how to eat fries with ketchup?"

Bruce slapped his forehead to his palm while Damian called you idiots. Tim got that curious look on his face, and Dick couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes.

Now, your eldest brother, he was definitely someone you could count on no matter what. Being the oldest and having the most Bruce experience out of everyone, he always helped you deal with your Brucie problems or ‘daddy issues’ as you'd like to say.

Truth be told, every kid in this family had daddy issues.

As mentioned before, Dick was your movie-watching buddy, he helped you with your homework and always assisted with any life issues you had going on. No matter how many times you may have threatened the Nightwing persona with such, you always went to him for advice, and there was never really a moment you could think of where you regretted it.

He also helped you learn how to be more agile and light on your feet with your fighting. While your second eldest brother taught you how to use brute force and strength in situations, he gave you the acrobatic style of lessons. Where Bruce and Jason were direct and serious, Dick taught and showed you how to be more of the opposite.

And, whenever Jason wasn't around to get Damian off your back, you'd go to him since he was basically his second dad.

You and Dick together were like two chatty Cathys on drugs. One moment, you could be talking about the movie you were watching, then you’d get into a debate over onion rings vs french fries, somehow landing in politics, somehow ending up in a political debate only to end with the "Are we even real" conversation. And for whatever reason, you swore you could hear Tim itching in his seat whenever that conversation came up.

That boy goes down a lot of YouTube rabbit holes at 2 AM when he’s bored on patrol or not doing anything.

Now, one brother on their own was one thing. Two? Someone was calling the police. Three and you may have to check if your life insurance policy is still good. All four? Pray.

Since you now were officially the youngest, a title Damian was actually happy to pass on despite his warnings to Bruce, that meant you got the most of the teasing, even if it mostly came from your blood-related sibling. But his version of teasing tended to leave you with trips to your therapist so you could do without them.

However, one rule all your siblings and family stuck by, no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even in the Justice League or Titans/Young Justice teams, could mess or pick with you except them.

Everyone in the family was very protective over you. You were surprised to see even Alfred was on that list, though you learned quickly the butler was not one to be fucked with. 

You distinctly remember that one time the Batcave got invaded and Batman made you hide in one of the saferooms, you saw on one of the video monitor screens Alfred whacking the shit outta them with just a rifle.

For that reason, among others, you took a mental note to be careful with how you complimented his cooking in the future.

But seriously, if anyone messed with you, and your family found out, Hell itself would be scared of what would break loose from your home.

A bully from school started picking on you and calling you names and you didn't tell your brothers about it, wanting to handle it on your own. Besides, you could defend yourself. They taught you well.

Until the fateful day you came out as gay, bi, pan, etc., and he called you names that your father wouldn't even repeat, and that man had the title of a playboy.

Well, word spread around the school and got back to Damian, who went back and told your other brothers.

By the next day, Dick had shredded every thread of that boy's confidence. Tim hacked the school files, got his address, and framed him for changing grades in the school. Jason used said address Tim got to pay a trip to the kid's place and shot bullet holes in all his clothes when no one was home. And well, let's just say Damian almost went to jail.

Of course, Bruce was pissed when he found out and had to intervene, but when Damian admitted the reason he nearly got arrested, your father upped his allowance.

Only God could imagine the terror that would unfold the day you started dating.

Oh, and they all call you babybird which you despise.

Don't even get me started on your sisters.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[foxconfessorandthewolf]

Okay, so I’m a bit wine drunk but I don’t think I’ve ever really articulated why I love Snarry together and I’m currently trying to finish a fic after taking a three-year-hiatus from writing these two, so this is probably a good exercise!

I’m a bit on the older side of fandom, having been a fanartist and fervent reader since 2003, so my connection was really sparked during that time between OOTP and HBP when Snape and Harry were at some of their most clashing and deeply vitriolic, forced together into hateful vulnerability by Occulmency lessons. Every scene between them was electric, laced with tension as we truly did not know how things would go, or even where Snape’s true loyalties lay. He was an unknown, tied up with Harry’s own family’s mysterious past, connected to Harry in a myriad of odd ways that few other characters were, and - as a rivals-to-lovers lover - I was fascinated by him. From that first moment when they lock eyes in the Great Hall and that frisson of pain shoots through Harry’s scar, I desperately wanted to know who the hell this man was and his story. I think a lot of Snarry shippers come to the ship with a special appreciation for Severus Snape’s character himself. He’s such an incredibly drawn character, rich with complexity, complicated and pretty fucked up, with clearly-held passions, hatreds, weaknesses, and motivations. He’s emotional in a way a lot of other characters aren’t, though I think he’d loathe to hear that. And his character voice! It’s unique and pitch-perfect. You always know exactly who is speaking with his lines. Honestly, the way he evolved from a spy/traitor stock character to become so multifaceted and enigmatic is a masterpiece of characterization, and it’s an aspect of why I’m drawn to him - there’s still so much about his origins and well, what his damage was, that we don’t know. Because of this, I especially love Snarry fics that delve into character studies of him, trying to explore all the shadows left behind. I also admit I have a preference for interpreting Snape as morally grey. I like him petty, sharp-tongued, ambitious, with an incredibly liquid definition of what is right and wrong. He’s self-interested, dripping with disdain, and really doesn’t see that as a problem. What happens to him when he deeply falls in love?

I love a ship that makes me work for it. There’s no obvious line of how Snape and Harry might wind up together, so each fic is a wealth of possibilities of bringing these two together despite their roadblocks. As I mentioned, I’m big fan of animosity in a ship. Give me rivals, give me enemies, give me the sparking passions, the sharp fury, the way they stoke each others’ emotions and seek to hurt, the racing hearts, the raised hackles, the intense emotional reaction to another person. Just throw it at me. I devour that shit. I love the messy and taboo nature of their relationship, the complications raising from their age difference, temperaments, and largely similar and shared traumas. There’s an interesting element of Snape being a foil to James Potter, and how that relates to Harry and their past. Basically, this shit is really good potting soil for incredible fucking fics, packed with nutrients.

The shared natures of their traumas, like Voldemort and each being forgotten and abused as children and how they might be able to understand each other and bond from it is also something that’s fascinating to explore. I love when a writer pushes on Snape’s bruises, looking to make them hurt, cracking his sardonic brain open and rooting around in there, and I love when they compare and contrast to Harry’s. There’s a seductiveness to how Snape is so obsessed with Harry, fixated on his Boy Who Lived heroic reputation, clearly dripping with envy. What, beyond jealousy, might draw Snape to Harry and what, other than hatred, might draw Harry to Snape?

It’s all this, the passionate, electric, dangerous nature of their relationship; the way their characters contrast each other yet have surprising connections; and the question of finding solace that keeps me here, 21 years later. I’ve had wines less complex than this ship. They’re fascinating. They’re messy. They’re everything.

[crossposted from a reddit comment I just left, and wanted to share with y’all]

[mythicalmeowz]

just my thoughts

One thing I’ve been noticing more and more recently is. A lot of people have been saying they think Cosmo and Wanda must’ve gotten marriage counseling between the ending of the OG show and the beginning of the new one.

Which is fine! I think if anyone wants to take everything from the original, even the "bad", as canon, that’s entirely okay. As much as I would like to pretend those things were never written, I can’t change the fact that they were written.

But one thing I think is important to note is: Cosmo and Wanda were never intended to be written in a loveless marriage in the first place. They were never intended to be written mean, or neglectful, or hateful. And that’s very obvious to me, reading the original show’s pitch and reference books.

There is nothing in this world that could ever convince me Cosmo and Wanda were meant to be anything but loving. These are screenshots from the original Pitch and the show’s guideline booklet:

They really spell it out perfectly. “It’s a show about friendship.” It was always meant to be.

The inclusion of “great, fleshed-out characters” here leads me to believe they never meant for Cosmo or Wanda to become flanderized to a single trait. Cosmo was never meant to just be “the idiot”, and Wanda was never meant to be the “anti-fun” one. They were meant to be equals.

“[he] doesn’t have a mean bone in his... body,” as well tells me Cosmo was never meant to be written the way he was in later seasons; he wasn’t meant to be mean, nor was he meant to hate his wife. It’s my belief that, had the writers never changed, or had they hired writers who Did care, the writing of the show would not have suffered the way it did.

__

“So if it was never intended to happen, then why did it happen?”

Around the time Cosmo and Wanda’s characterization began deteriorating, they had hired writers who were notorious for writing mean-spirited and anti-marriage jokes in other shows. And this was around the time those sexist and “I hate marriage” jokes began seeping into the Fairly Oddparents’ writing. Nickelodeon saw success with the pilot and first two seasons of the show, and when their original writers left, they hired people who didn’t care as much for the continuity or storytelling of the show because they wanted that success to continue.

I think a lot of people tend to forget this show was cancelled five separate times during its run. For every season past its fifth, they wanted to end production, but Nickelodeon would not let them.

It was, and still is, one of Nickelodeon’s highest rated and longest running shows they’ve ever made; they kept ordering new episodes, despite the writer’s wish for it to end, because Nick wanted to ride its success. They didn’t care if it deteriorated or got worse; they just wanted it to continue making them money.  

That’s why so many characters were added to the show past season five. Nick told the writers they had to add one new character per season. That’s why Poof, Foop, Goldie, Sparky, and Chloe were all added—for views and for money.

And when it stopped making them money, they cut its budget. They switched to flash animation. They moved it to their sister channel, where Nicktoons go when they’re not profitable enough for the network.

The original was a show that suffered in the hands of corporate greed.

I really, really appreciate the new show and all who have worked on it for taking what went wrong with the original and repairing it from the ground up. Oddparents has been my special interest since I was a child; it means a lot to me to see it, once again, in the hands of people who seem to really care. (though, this does not include what they did to cupid)

Again, if anyone wants to headcanon C&W as going through marriage counseling, that’s entirely fine! This isn’t meant to be me taking a jab at anyone or anything; it’s more-so just me spilling my own thoughts (because I sure have a lot of them). And if anyone likes anything from the "worse" seasons, thats fine, too! Even I like episodes from the later seasons. They're not all bad!

*For anyone interested, the original pitch from 1999 and the guidelines reference book can both be found on the Internet Archive.

[three-realms-archive]

The Three Realms Archive: Masterlist and Rules!

Welcome to the Three Realms Archive, where you can find stories about the beings that reside in the Three Realms and beyond! Whether it be stories of the Avatars of Sin, the students of Prince Diavolo’s RAD exchange programme, or of the incredible human who became sorcerer under the tutelage of the Wise Sorcerer and Master of the Seven Rulers of the Underworld… You can find their stories here!

Atmospheric introduction aside, welcome to this side blog for writing to do with Obey Me! And Obey Me! Nightbringer. These will most likely be bits and pieces that come to me when they come.

My ideas inbox is currently open (use the ‘Ideas Here!’ tab to send them), but please read the rules below first!!!

This blog is new, so bear with me whilst I work on aesthetics and getting started on writing/uploading some stuff I've written :D

Rules and masterlist under the cut:

Rules and Considerations

Please be kind and respectful to each other!

For personal reasons, this is a non-NSFW blog. Please do not suggest NSFW in the ideas box beyond slightly suggestive - any requests like this will be ignored. I will do my best to place content warnings where I think it's needed.

The ideas inbox is called such because you can be as vague as you want - even a single word. However, it is also called this because they are ideas and - depending on various factors like my schedule, how inspired I am, and how much certain ideas inspire me to write - there is no guarantee I write for every idea, or the same amount for every idea. Thank you for understanding in advance :D

I’m a fairly new OBM player, so if anything I write is contrary to the canon, please let me know and I can add a note or rectify it. Most of these are meant to be “imagine the character in this situation” and my personal interpretation.

Have fun!

Masterlist

🌟Inspired by an ideas inbox request!

Oneshot Fics

Checking In: The House of Lamentation family check into a human-world hotel.

Beware MC, the Kind: Sorcerer MC is gaining a reputation similar to that of their teacher, Solomon the Wise. But for what reasons?

Let's Form an Idol Group: Will Asmo's next attempt at making his brothers into a boy band succeed? (This one has a cute commenting challenge - please check it out!)

Dramatic Drama: Telenovelas can be very emotionally-investing for demons.

🌟A Small, Little Lie: TSL Arranged Marriage! AU. The sentence "I love you" means very different things to the Lord of Masks and his spouse and former-knight, Henry.

Love Me, Or Not: Satan pulls on flower petals, hoping to get the same result you did.

Was Never Your First, After All: A childhood friend visits you and Mammon realises ‘first man’ doesn’t suit him much anymore.

First Dates: A collection of first date thoughts from each Avatar of Sin.

Short Snippets

Ante Up: Mammon finds he's a lot more motivated to win quickly when he's at the casino with you.

The RAD School Play: Ideas about MC’s role in a school play at RAD.

Six Pillows and a Tattered Armchair: An angsty (ref. to Lesson 16) accompaniment to ‘Beel is Pillow’, exploring Belphie’s relationship with sleep in the aftermath of his actions.

The RAD Cheer Squad: 2, 4, 6, 8 - who do we appreciate? … Probably not whoever came up with the RAD Cheer Squad.

What Is Up, Fellow Celestials?: Luke finds this one human really, really cool. MC and Simeon suffer the consequences.

Just Wanting To Be Included: Mammon and Beel post a FabSnap video, but their brother just wants to be included.

Debuting Change: Diavolo invites a special guest to a special occasion.

Just A Study: Solomon tries to convince himself that living with you was just a study. Spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 40!

Relent: Belphie has a super, super smart plan to get you to cuddle in bed with him.

A Rainy Day Indulgence: Simeon dances with you in the rain, and it reminds him of something.

Headcannons

Unhinged™: A bunch of silly headcanons that could each be their own anime episodes. Chaotic things the OBM! cast have done. Inspired by this post by @leniisreallycool.

Series

Beel is Anything, If You Beel-ieve

A very unserious collection of slice-of-life snippets, where Beel goes on a journey to become as many things as possible.

Beel is Pillow: Beel is pillow.

Beel is Paint: Beel is paint, according to Asmo.

Beel is Anime: Beel is anime, and Levi is not okay with this.

🌟 Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences

A series exploring slice-of-life snapshots of the Obey Me! characters in the aftermath of Lesson 16. Each chapter is made up of two posts: a oneshot centred around one of MC's scars, wounds or minor inconveniences; and a post with the general headcanons inspiring the oneshot. Features references to injury and spoilers for Lesson 16 of OG Obey Me!.

Phantom Pain (Oneshot + Headcannons): Mammon is used to your 'needles-thing' by now. He doesn't mind it. After all, he has his own things he does every now and again.

A Weak Wrist (Oneshot + Headcannons): Your wrist is still weak from the TSL Quiz; so Lucifer doesn’t understand why you trust Leviathan more.

Nightmares (Oneshot + Headcannons): Belphegor relishes you and Beel growing further apart... until he doesn't, when Beel's dreams change.

Splintered Arms and a New Bedtime Routine (Oneshot + Headcannons - Coming Soon!): The angels are confused at the weird routine you and Beel have before bedtime during a sleepover at Purgatory Hall.

Better, Quicker Reflexes (Oneshot + Headcannons - Coming Soon!): Lucifer used to think his form of discipline was effective.

[plussizefantasia]

Shaggy and Velma

Flufftober Day 25: Costume Party

Peter Parker x f!reader

Word Count 1.0k

AN: I have officially finished writing all of my prompts for Flufftober, I'll be proofreading the last few before I post them. The problem is, I've really enjoyed all the writing I've been doing and how much everyone has liked my stories. So I want to ask for some requests that I can write after my short break! If you could send a request that would be amazing. As always, Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated, and I'll see y'all tomorrow!

divider credit @royallaesthetics

“I am not wearing that.” You deadpanned at Peter who was smiling toothily at you. In his hands, he held one of those awful foam costumes, a matching set. “I am not wearing a piece of foam that makes me look like jelly on toast, not to a party.” You didn’t think that gaveling a couple's costume was a bad idea you thought it might be fun but you drew the line at food.

“C’mon Babe, match with me.” He encoded his strongest pair of puppy dog eyes and aimed them right at you.

“I will match with you, just not as PB and J” you laughed. “What about Shaggy and Velma.”

“Who would be who?” He asked.

“We’ll you’re the smart one so you’ll probably be Velma and I look good in green so I’ll be shaggy.” You shrugged.

“Do they even make male Velma costumes?” Peter began scanning the store for a gender-bent version of the character. 

“Probably not but we could always go to the thrift store.” You suggested

And so you did, two hours and the thrift shops later you had your costumes for the costume party on the NYC campus that your roommate had invited you to.

Parties weren’t your thing but when you had told Peter about it, he had gotten excited. “I’ve never been to a college party, or a Halloween party, or any kind of party that wasn’t a birthday party.” So you cast aside your desire for a cozy night in with your boyfriend, watching movies in spooky pajamas and eating candy that you go from the gas station. You went costume shopping with your dork and basked in the joy that radiated from him all day.

Now, the two of you were about a block away from the party, you’d decided to walk, partially because you didn’t have a car and partially because you wanted to be able to check out other people’s costumes on the way. “Do you think people will know who we are?” Peter asked you. You looked down at yourself, wearing a short corduroy mini skirt and a green top tucked into the waistband, along with a pair of old brown dress shoes you usually saved for special and formal occasions. Then your gaze landed on Peter, you were surprised that you had found the orange turtleneck right away but it fit him well. He also wore a pair of red jeans that you had to force him into a pair of glasses that you popped the lenses out of.

“I’m sure baby, we’re killing it right now.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Peters's voice got soft and he looked at you. He placed a kiss on your temple and kept walking. 

When you arrived at the warehouse the party was at, it was obvious that most of the people there were not in college. Party crashes weren’t rare, but it did mean that Peter would need to keep a close eye on you. This many strangers in one place was bound to be trouble. You had made him promise that he wouldn’t be Spider-Man tonight, that was your condition for going to the party at all.

“I’m not going if you’re going to have to race out of there right away and leave me there.” He agreed it was fair after all, you hadn’t wanted to go, so leaving you alone wasn’t the nicest thing he could do.

So instead, he danced with you, he held you close and he laughed with you when you saw funny costumes. Multiple people complimented you on the outfits you were wearing and every time it happened you watched Peter perk up just a little bit.

As the night wore on, you got a little sloppier, not drunk. You wouldn’t get wasted when you were so keenly aware of how many people you didn’t know and how far from home you were. But you were loose and Peter wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t have anything to drink, he just metabolized it way too fast.

By three a.m. the party still hadn’t wound down, but as Peter watched you yawn and lean on him a little more than usual he decided that it was time to go.

“Wanna go home, babe? Put in our PJs and watch a movie?” You eagerly nodded and grabbed onto his hand. 

It wasn’t easy getting you home, you seemed to trip on every little thing and had a serious case of the giggles but eventually the two of you made it back to his apartment. Peter helped you up the stairs and in past his door. When your eyes landed on his couch you groaned pleasantly and flopped down onto it. Burying your head in the throw pillows you had bought.

“C’mon babe, we gotta brush our teeth and change into PJs”

“Don’t wanna, comfortable”

“I know babe, but you’ll be mad at me tomorrow for not making you do some sort of routine.”

Even tipsy you knew that you would want to take off your makeup before you went to bed, so even though you groaned and whined the whole time, you let Peter help you take your makeup off, and brush your teeth and hair. 

Peter gently guided you into the bedroom where he pulled out the Halloween PJs you had bought for the two of you before you knew that you were going to the party. He helped you into them, his eyes never starting from your face as he did.

When all your routines were done and you were ready for bed, Peter pulled you to his side and kissed your head like he always did before you fell asleep.

“Thank you for coming with me Shaggy,” you laughed.

“You’re welcome, Velma” was your deeply sleepy response, as soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes shut and you fell asleep immediately.

[bonefall]

I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".

Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"

Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)

Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say

Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.

I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.

In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.

If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.

But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.

Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.

"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."

It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.

...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.

(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)

[kenny-the-ken]

First Time for Everything

Soooo!!! I'm gonna do both of these requests, because I love the idea of both of them!! So the second part of this request will hopefully be out in the next few days!! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and keep the requests coming!! I love hearing from you all!! 💖 AGED UP CHARACTERS

Kyle had thought things through meticulously, in fact this was all he'd been worrying about for the past month. The guys were informed, and offered their support and help, albeit a bit useless, but Kyle appreciated their help.

His parents were out, and Ike was at a sleepover with his friends, and Kyle knew this was one of the very few times his house would be his and his alone, giving you both the much needed privacy you both were waiting for.

Kyle was seventeen, and his friends still mocked him for being a virgin, and yours did too, but you both wanted it to be special, to mean something, and that's exactly what you had with Kyle.

Kyle was perfect, you loved every inch of him, and he was infatuated with you. How he'd gotten so lucky, he'd never know, all he did know was that he felt it was time. He wanted to loose his virginity to you, and you wanted to loose yours to him.

Kyle wanted it to be a surprise, but you had a funny feeling that he was up to something, so you wore your cutest lingerie that you'd bought specially for this occasion.

He was pacing now, checking his watch every few minutes, awaiting your arrival. He had cooked you both a romantic dinner, he had candles lit, hell he even threw rose petals all over his bedroom just to make this the most special that it could possibly be.

He heard the doorbell ring, and he swore he jumped so high he nearly touched the ceiling, hopefully it wasn't too obvious how nervous he really was.

"H-Hi, Kyle." You spoke as he opened the door, and he held it open to let you in before closing it and locking it behind him.

"Hey, y/n. I have something pretty special planned for tonight, but it's entirely up to you if we do it or not, okay?" He asked, taking your hands in his as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Okay." You agreed, a small blush on your cheeks.

"Did you cook for me?" You asked, your smile wide as your grip on his hand tightened slightly, and Kyle nodded in response, his own cheeks turning red.

"Yeah I did, I was tryna be romantic." He laughed, and you placed a kiss on his lips before he could say anything else.

"This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me, Kyle." His heart felt like it would burst, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel like the most loved girl in the entire world, and this was just the beginning.

"I made spaghetti and meatballs." Kyle spoke as he led you to the dinner table, pulling out your chair for you to sit, as he made his way to the kitchen and began serving up his home cooked meal.

And god it was delicious! You had no idea that Kyle could cook so well, he actually surprised himself, he never expected it to taste as good as it did.

And as you both finished up, the time came for him to awkwardly ask you the one question that had been burning through his brain for over a month now.

"Y/n... I know we've only been together a few months but... I always wanted to lose my virginity to someone special, someone I loved. And I love you! There's no pressure, if you're not comfortable I completely understand, I don't want you to feel forc-"

Your lips cut him off as you kissed your boyfriend softly.

"Kyle, I love you to, and my answer is yes. I want to lose my virginity to you too." You spoke softly, and Kyle felt his cock hardening already, his cheeks flushing.

"Well in that case, shall we head up to my bedroom?" He asked, giggling at what he's just said as you took his hand and allowed him to lead you upstairs.

He had it all planned, his bedroom lights off, just the faint, warm glow of the variety of candles he had scattered around the room, and rose petals, strewn aimlessly around the place, including on his bed, and you gasped, your hand coming to reach over your mouth.

"Kyle you... you did all this for me?" You asked, your eyes welling joyful tears as you smiled up at your taller boyfriend, and he nodded, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you inside, before closing and locking the door, so you wouldn't possibly be interrupted, just in case someone came back.

"Yeah I did, I told you, I wanted it to be special for both of us." He continued as he sat down on his bed, patting the space beside him for you to sit next to him, and you did as you were told, his hand coming to hold your thigh, his large hand squeezing it gently.

"I love you, Kyle." You spoke, gazing dreamily into your partner's eyes.

"I love you too, y/n." Kyle whispered, his hand placed under your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back, one of your hands tangled in his curly hair, and the other wrapped around his shoulder.

He experimentally placed his hand on your hip, and then brought one to rest on your breast, your cheeks hotting up already, as he squeezed softly, the kiss deepening further.

Kyle licked your lower lip, your mouth opening in response, as his tongue explored your mouth, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His hand squeezed your breast again as he tugged on the hem of your shirt, asking permission to remove it, and you allowed him, his hands raising it over your arms and head and throwing it to the ground.

Your cheeks burned crimson, avoiding his gaze and instead looking at your exposed upper half.

"Jesus, y/n you're beautiful." Kyle spoke, before cupping your breast once more, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Can I take your bra off?" He asked bashfully and you simply nodded to him, as he fumbled to unclasp your bra, after a few attempts he had finally mastered it and threw it to the floor with your shirt.

His eyes widened, taking you all in as his mouth moved to take your breast in his mouth, sucking gently on your hardened nipple and you gasped, a small moan leaving your swollen lips.

Kyle then pulled away, pulling his own top off, and blushing a little himself, your hands moving their was down his whole torso, before tugging at his jeans.

"I think you should take these off too." You spoke, a smirk on your lips as he slowly took off your jeans, and you joined him in taking off your skirt.

"You're so hot." Kyle gushed, staring at you in complete awe.

"And so are you, Kyle. Now c'mere!" You said, a soft smile on your face.

And Kyle was more than happy to oblige, his hand pushing you backwards so you landed on the bed, a small gasp and a giggle escaping your mouth, and Kyle moved his body over yours, and you playfully reached your hand down, leaving gentle, teasing touches on his clothed cock, making your partner groan, his lips moving to meet yours in a fit of passion.

He was big, you couldn't deny that, your finger grazing over the clothed head of his cock, a moan escaping him as you did.

"Take these off, babe." You whispered, watching as Kyle slowly pulled his boxers down, and you followed him, pulling your own wet panties down, both of you blushing.

"You're huge, Kyle." You spoke, eyes wide and mouth agape, your hand reaching down once more to give his cock a few pumps back and forth and Kyle moaned against your touches, his own hand rubbing small circles against your clit, slowly moving down to circle your entrance, pushing a long digit into you, a small moan escaping you, and a louder one when he curled his finger against your g-spot.

"Fuck, I want inside you now." Kyle spoke, widening your legs, and rolling on a condom, as much as he wanted you, he was still incredibly nervous. He didn't want to hurt you.

"I-I'm gonna push in slowly, okay sweetie?" He spoke, his words slowly easing your own nerves.

"Okay." You softly muttered, and Kyle began his slow push into you, and my god he'd never felt anything as good as this before.

"Fuck, you're so tight." Kyle breathed out, a grunt escaping his parted lips, as he slowly pushed himself in till his cock was buried fully inside you, and he stilled.

"Are you okay, baby?" He asked, pressing kisses to your face as a means of distracting you from any discomfort you were in, and after a few moments you gave him the signal, letting him know that he could move.

And move he did, Kyle started to slowly move his hips, his cock slipping almost fully out of you before pushing back in, moans falling from your lips, and Kyle swore he was in heaven.

"You feel incredible, baby." He groaned, pants and moans leaving both of you, and Kyle knew he wouldn't last long, no one ever did on their first time, he never wanted this feeling to end.

"Kyle, your so big." You cried out, his hips speeding up slightly as he raised one of your legs over his shoulder, wanting to try a different angle.

Your back was arched, Kyle's cock fucking into you, and you both neared orgasm, your moans growing louder and longer by the second.

"I'm gonna cum, Kyle!" You moaned out, your hands fisted into the bedsheets below you, and Kyle moaned himself, looking deep in your eyes as he spoke.

"Come for me, y/n." He panted, his thrusts becoming sloppy, and your moaned loudly, calling out for your lover as your pussy tightened around him, causing Kyle's orgasm to wash over him too, his deep voice repeating your name over and over as he spilled his seed into the condom, both your highs bringing you both crashing back down to earth.

Your breathing was laboured, and Kyle was gasping for breath, placing a gentle kiss to your lips, embracing you while still inside you.

And as he rolled off your sweat slicked body, he pulled you to rest your head on your chest.

"Thank you, that was amazing! I love you." Kyle spoke, a smile on his face as he kissed the top of your head.

"There's no need to thank me, it was incredible Kyle, I love you too!" You replied, moving your head to capture his lips in a kiss.

Kyle was always the person you wanted to be with and you were his entire universe, you both knew you were made for each other, and there was no one else you both would've rather lost your virginities to than each other.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

HC on a modern fallout. Like same characters just in now times.

Like Obvs Nick would still be a PI but what of the others? Would factions be a thing still or would they all have normal jobs?

What of the synths?

Modern Fo4 Headcanons

➼ Word Count » 3.3k ➼ Warnings » Spoilers for many character arcs ➼ Genre » Modern AU ➼ A/N » This took me WAY too long, but I had so many things I wanted to write down and expand on.

COMPANIONS [ these are how I imagine them before meeting Nate and Nora, a random couple who just happens to enter into everyone's lives ]

MacCready grew up as an orphan in Virginia where the older kids raised him. He never got adopted and, while he was thankful for the teens who raised him, there was always a sense of abandonment and negativity that he'd always attach with the state. So, when he turned 18, he hitchhiked to Boston, hoping to find a happier and more fulfilling life. It didn't happen as soon as he'd wanted, however, and he bounced from place to place looking for a stable job. His rugged exterior and immature attitude forced him out of a lot of areas, but there was a group that didn't mind any of that. MacCready was ecstatic when the Gunners first picked him up. They gave him jobs, sure, but they had also given him a group he could identify with in the same way he did with the kids back at the Orphanage. After a year of working with them, MacCready met Lucy. He'd originally planned on robbing her, but her name reminded her too much of the Lucy he'd grown up with, and offered to walk he home instead. When they had gotten to her door she asked him about why he was wearing army pants. He jokingly told her that he was in the military who was currently on leave, which she ended up believing. It surprised MacCready since his Gunners tattoo was visible on his arm, but he found her gullibility to be endearing. After that, the two spent a lot of time together, but right after Duncan was born, she pieced together his association with the gang, left him, and quickly moved into an apartment located in a safer area. Heartbroken and consumed with guilt, he quit the gang for good and worked to better himself and clean up his act so that he could be a part of his son's life, and maybe try his relationship with Lucy once more. He does a few odd jobs here and there but, so far, none of them have stuck.

Once Nick's testing was over, the students at CIT didn't know what to do with him other than to let him roam the campus, so he stuck with what he knew - police work. He'd wander the college as an officer, looking for any job or event that could require his help. At first, he was treated more as a Protectron than an actual member of the force, but that never really bothered him, as long as he was actively making people safer, then he was content. What did bother him, however, was the amount of jury trials he had to be present at for being the product of unethical testing. It always made him feel guilty that he was an unconsented clone of the real Nick Valentine's mind, and if he could, he would've chosen not to be created at all. Knowing the amount of pain his existence had caused an actual person made him feel awful, but he'd rather put that energy into his community over hating himself for something that was out of his control. He never really got over the confusion and sadness he had when he thought about who he was but, over time, many of the students began to treat him as if he were a real person. They'd greet him in the mornings, buy him ties on special occasions, and every once in a while someone would bring him coffee, forgetting that he couldn't drink it. His life slowly changed from him not understanding what his purpose was, to becoming a well-respected member in his field. Even the real Nick grew to appreciate him after he helped to hunt down Eddie when no one else wanted to. His memories of DiMA were still there (as it had only been a 2 or 3 decades compared to 2 centuries), but his brother didn't stay with the school, instead opting to discover himself elsewhere. As soon as he was allowed, he left for Maine and made a name for himself as the first robotic philosopher and occasionally sending letters to Nick.

Cait ran away from home at 15 in an attempt to escape the abuse she received from her parents. Scared, alone, and incredibly fragile, she was an easy target for many others on the streets and was taken advantage of both emotionally and sexually by almost anyone who saw her. As the years went by, the more hardened and angry she had become. Finally able to adapt to her surroundings, she stole, fought, and threatened anyone she could. This led her to be put in many juvenile detention centers and child reformat camps, both of which never helped change her view on the world. Still living on the streets at 18, she went and bought her first gun. She thought of going to visit her parents for a while, wondering if it would make some of the pain she felt go away. On the day she decided she was finally ready to go kill them, she ran into Tommy, a sleazy businessman who was desperate to strike it big in the corporate world. Seeing the potential and opportunity that a young, angry, mistreated girl could present to him, he offered her a deal. If she focused her rage into wrestling and let him be her manager, he'd help her get off the streets and really make a name for herself. She agreed and very quickly became one of the best and most well-known wrestlers in Boston, although, most of the press that covers her is about her attitude and allegation regarding her addictions. She still holds onto that shotgun she bought. It reminds her of what could've been and helps her feel a sense of security. She knows no one will take advantage of her again because she now has the means to ensure of it. She's still waiting for the day her parents beg her to take them back so she can tell them off, but they never did. It hurts her more to know that, even now that she's found success for herself, her parents still don't want her. So, until it kills her, she'll drink and inject herself with whatever she can get her hands on, desperate to numb as many of her thoughts as she can until she passes.

Danse was also made at CIT, although he's much more advanced than Nick is. Almost immediately after being created, he left to go to DC where he met Cutler. Cutler was on the verge of homelessness and pitched his idea of starting a small business to Danse who agreed quickly (he had no other plans). They sold odd things they either built or found for a few years before they were approached by a general in the US Army. He was only browsing, but Danse felt compelled by his stories from when he was in combat. There was something about serving his country and defending the common man that he found to be incredible, and so he and Cutler quit their gig and signed up for the army. There've been robots who've joined the military before, but none who made the decision on their own volition. All the others are Assaultrons and Mr. Gutsy, so having one who willingly wanted to be a part of the cause was astounding to many. Cutler eventually got mortally wounded and Danse, who was clearly devasted, was then assigned to work with Haylen and Rhys out of fear that he'd go haywire or malfunction due to the impact of his friends death, and that's where he's been ever since. The memories he'd been given were vague and slightly foggy, but the army gave him something to identify with and a cause to work for. He was prideful in the work he did and, although there were others, he served to be one of the first instances of a robot showing a willingness to fight for his country.

Ever since he was young, Preston had looked up to those who did right by people. At first, he joined a police academy to be an officer, but after a bystander got caught up in one of the scenes he'd been sent to, he quit, deciding that this wasn't something he was cut out to do. The guilt of not being able to successfully protect an innocent civilian eats away at him, so, in an attempt to make it up to himself, he went into hospice care. At least here he knows the deaths aren't his fault and that all the people he cares for have lived long, fulfilling lives. Currently, he's caring for the long-time addict, Mama Murphy (who still manages to sneak a few pills into the room every now and again). Preston adores her, but every once in a while she'll tell him about a dream she's had where the world had ended and he played a part in rebuilding it. He can't let her describe it for long, though, otherwise she'll start to panic and he'll have to grab her medication to help calm her down, and he hates having to give her drugs. Luckily he knows that she's just and elderly woman suffering from schizophrenia and none of what she says about a war torn world holds any truth. As much trouble as she causes him, Preston isn't sure what he's going to do when she's gone. He only hopes that it doesn't shatter him as much as the bystander incident did.

Codsworth still operates under Sole's roof in taking care of Shaun and the home. Nothing changes with him, however, when he went to drop Shaun off at college for the first time, he met Nick, and the two got along quite well! Whenever he goes to visit Shaun with the family he always makes sure to stop by to chat with the detective.

Piper runs a very controversial newsstand right in the heart of Boston. There are so many authorities and higher-ups whose reputations have been ruined due to her articles, and even with a mob of protestors against her, she still does whatever she wants. She grew up in a smaller town on the outskirts of Massachusetts before she managed to work up enough cash to get herself and Nat to the city, where she could finally begin to look for work to support them both. However, she quickly found that the 'big city' had many issues on its own and, since then, she was dead set on bringing people's attention to them. She doesn't care about the death threats or riots that sometimes occur outside her home. The police know her well enough by now to keep an eye out in her neighborhood. Especially Nick, who met her once while she set up a debate booth on campus and interviewed students for an article she planned on publishing. She's not rich by any means, but she loves her job. And, to her, there's no better feeling than that. She's just praying Nat isn't as prone to controversy as she is.

Curie was placed in a research facility where she helped to test and study different diseases with a group of other doctors before being places in a hospital. She mainly cares for sick children but is reveled to be one of the best doctors as she doesn't need to sleep or take any breaks. She adores her job and never stops working on cures and medicine for her patients. When she heard about the synths being created at CIT, she asked her supervisors if she could swap bodies so she could better fit in with the rest of her coworkers, as well as be able to hold vials and syringes better. They agreed and got her a custom made body for her to subvert her subconscious into. Eventually, when he's older, Shaun will come into her clinic in hopes of having his cancer fully treated, but that'll be years from now when he's in his 70s.

Even though Strong isn't affected by the FEV in this timeline, he still holds that same barbaric and thuggish aura. He's not affiliated with any gangs, but he's no stranger to violence and lives in the part of town where shootings happen the most often. Despite his intimidating stature and hostile disposition, he still frequents the local libraries. More often than he'd care to admit. He loves old literature and has a bit of a soft spot for anyone who likes it too. He claims she's overexaggerating, but Daisy will usually sit and listen to him ramble for hours about the beauty and symbolism littered throughout Shakespeare's plays or Lovecraft's short stories.

Hancock is a well-known politician who is loved as much as he is hated. Ever since Piper outed him for his drug addiction and put into question his validity and dedication to his cause, he's been somewhat of a controversial figure in the political world. Despite it all, he has no ill feelings toward Piper or Publick Occurrences and is constantly hyping it up as a reliable news source. Although he owns quite a bit of cash, he's constantly pouring it into the slums of Boston. Some think this is just a publicity stunt to make up for his occasional violent outbursts (the drugs do a number on him since he's not a ghoul), he does it because he genuinely believes it's right for him to do. Besides, the people are friendlier there. Now his biggest concern is building up his reputation again so he can beat his brother when they run for mayor against one another. Him and his secretary, Fahrenheit, have a lot planned for the city and they'd like to see those ideas become reality as quickly as they can manage.

No one's really sure who Deacon is, and some are cautious of him for it. One thing that is certain about him is that he's a massive history buff, and is almost always in a museum of some kind. His favorite past time is striking up conversation with strangers who probably just want to be left alone while they browse the artifacts displayed, but he doesn't really care. Eventually, he happens to start a conversation with Nate and Nora in the Museum of Freedom and he quickly integrates himself into the couple lives. Him and Barbara like to show up spontaneously on their doorstep with a pack of beers in their hands and grins on their faces, but surely they don't mind.. even if they still have no idea what he does for a living.

X6-88 is another one who doesn't change much. He works as security for CIT along with Nick, and few other courser's, although none of them are as approachable as the detective seems to be. He's very strict about his job and carries it out very well, however, when Shaun eventually begins to attend the college, they sorta hit it off? Not really because either of them are particularly kind to one another, but more so because they like it when people are straight forward, intelligent, and blunt and they both just so happen to be that.

Dogmeat’s a stray that everyone seems to know. Officially, he’s Mama Murphy’s, but most everyone claims him. He appears whenever someone's in distress or wherever his owner's vision take him. He's a mysterious dog with strange motives.

Old Longfellow lives as a fisherman up in Maine. Nothing particularly changes with him, he's still got the same closed off personality that he'd always had. His wife got sick and died and few years back, but his daughter went and became and engineer in a similar area to DiMA. Longfellow thinks DiMA's a kook but his daughter thinks he's a scientific masterpiece and will often ask him questions about his creation or how his mind was built.

Gage grew up around gang violence and quickly learned to steal, lie, and hurt to get the things he wanted. He never really lived in a stable home and mostly just squatted or camped wherever he could. Despite living in poverty, whenever he and his friends managed to scrap together enough money together, they'd hitch a ride to Nuka World and spend the day there. He grew to have a soft spot for the amusement park as he got older, and took up a maintenance job for them (they don't do background checks.. or any skill checks for that matter, but Gage is a quick learner.)

MAJOR FACTIONS + SYNTHS

The synths operate in society along with the other robots of the fallout universe. But, unlike the Protectrons, they can actually hold conversations. Because of that, they normally take on your regular lower-class to lower-middle-class jobs. They don't tend to be rich at all in their lifetimes due to the stigma around treating them exactly like humans. A lot of those opportunities have been stripped away from them for those exact reason. Some of them still manage to find ways around it, but it's a lot harder than how it'd be if they were a regular human. For instance, synths can't start businesses on their own. Many argue that it's because they're just not meant to do anything on their own and that they were created to help humans, but no one can give an argument on how them doing their own thing would harm them either.

The Railroad is the main group that's actively against the stereotypes and discrimination faced by the synths. Although, they've received a lot of backlash for naming themselves after a former anti-slavery group (many don't think it's fair to compare 1800s racism to whether or not bots can work higher-paying jobs), they've still become a huge relief to many synths who are desperate to be treated the same as any other person would.

The Institute is just a college in the modern age. Despite them receiving some backlash from the public about whether or not the practice of creating human-like bots, arguing that it's too 'Frankenstein-like', the students and professors still continue to build and work to make more and more realistic, artificial creatures and beings. Mr. House helps to fund their research as he finds it useful and because he also went their for school.

The Minutemen don't exist. There's no need when you have the police force, the fire department, and properly operating Protectrons active in the community. Most of hose who were a part of this faction have taken up community-centered jobs like farming or social work.

The Brotherhood of Steel continue to exist as the US Military. They're more focused on defending the country than they are preserving technology and the only places you’ll see one is in military bases or along the coast.

MINOR FACTIONS

The Atom Cats (along with Sturges) are a group of young adults who work at the local Harley Davidson. Tuesdays and Thursdays they host poetry night and generally just open the place up as a garage for anyone interested in mechanics or just hanging out with a bunch of strangers.

Raiders and Gunners are just the Bloods and Crips of the modern world. They stick with their own groups and despise anyone from the opposite side of the tracks. Shoot outs and common between them and it's best to not be associated at all if you can help it.

The Children of Atom are a strange and niche group of zealots that migrated from somewhere in Virginia to spread their gospel. No one’s sure who they are or what they want, but they’re attracted to the pollution cities bring and generally advocate for the betterment of the earth.

Ever since DiMA's arrival, Acadia's national park has turned into a debate ground for different thoughts and philosophies. People from all over the world come to visit to talk and discover other points of views. There's even a Atomite Pastor that frequents the area and promotes the newly found religion with those who are willing to listen. A strange place for stranger people.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Request: Wally with a Child!Reader who snuck backstage during a special live taping of Welcome Home to see him, as he is their favorite character

Oh this idea is cute!!! I like the trope of humans and puppets/cartoons coexisting (like in who framed roger rabbit) so im absolutely using that here

........

"Aaaand that's a wrap! Thank you all for coming to our exclusive live taping of Welcome Home! Be sure to gather up all your things before leaving through the exits on either side of the studio. Wally and his friends appreciate each and every one of you visiting their neighborhood!!"

The director's voice echoed over the intercom as the audience's applause gradually died down, with you being the last one to clap. Your hands almost hurt, but you didn't care. The smile on your face was huge

You still couldn't believe that you and your family got to actually see the entire Welcome Home cast in-person!

Especially Wally.

It's probably lame to say you liked the main character as a majority of the show's fans probably did...but it was true. You loved listening to his narrations, seeing him paint, and getting into all sorts of shenanigans with the gang.

During this live taping--which you won tickets to--he interacted with the audience a lot with his sweet eyes and warm smile, taking all of you on a journey into his world. You could see he was really happy to interact with all of you.

And that's why you were kinda sad when the curtains closed and the camera crew started packing up things, realizing it was already over. They still had a lot of work to do before they could put the episode on the usual television station Welcome Home was featured on, so they made sure every guest was out of the studio.

But fortunately, none of them noticed you sneaking down the steps and managing to find the door conveniently labelled "Backstage Access".

You knew you could get into a lot of trouble, though your family was catching up with some friends and their children. So surely they won't notice you were gone for quite a while.

You just really wanted to see Wally and personally tell him you're his biggest fan. It would make his day!

Eventually you did find him sitting by himself at the makeup booth, in front of a mirror surrounded by lights. His blue cardigan was draped over the chair, and he rolled up his sleeves before undoing the ascot around his neck. All the while, he smiled at his reflection dreamily with half-lidded eyes.

He looked a little tired, but happy nevertheless.

You would have approached him...if not for the director abruptly showing up, a stack of script papers in his hand. He seemed upset and annoyed, compared to the cheery tone he had earlier, so you just hid behind one of the large loudspeakers, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Look, Wally. How many times do we have to go over this?" He huffed. "You need to ease up on the excessive eye contact. It's been giving a few of my cameramen the creeps."

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry, sir. But..I thought that's what people liked.." Pouting slightly, the puppet looked at him, resting his elbow on the armchair to prop his chin up. "Where else can I look if not the camera or adoring audience? I can't just stare at the ceiling, y'know."

"..well it helps to blink every once in a while. That's what we humans do so it doesn't look like we're staring into each other's souls....like you're doing right now."

"Ah...am I..? Haha.." Wally laughed uncomfortably, forcing himself to blink as he fidgeted with the ascot in his hands. He looked down at the floor. "Sorry. It's just a habit-"

"Don't make excuses, Wally. I know eye contact is essential to your character but...I'm sure you wouldn't feel comfortable if I stared at you like that all the time, right?"

"Actually that wouldn't bother me at all." He gazed at the director with a polite smile, only for it to drop as he looked furious.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"...no? I'm only being honest, sir."

"...whatever. I have my lunch break now, so just...try to get what we discussed through your head." The director huffed, shaking his head before he turned and walked away, bumping into one of his assistants.

"You good, boss?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine..it's that damn puppet. I keep reminding him about his staring problem, but it's like I'm talking to a brick wall.."

Although he could barely hear them, Wally knew that he made the director upset...again. And that turned his usual smile upside down as he looked back into the mirror.

"I don't get it...everybody loved the show..." He muttered to himself, touching up his hair, but not even seeing his own reflection could cheer him up. "So why is he so...angry at me all the time?"

You frowned slightly as you watched his shoulders slump, hating how sad he sounded. That director of his was so cruel! He didn't know what he was talking about!

Determined to help your favorite character feel better, you finally gained the confidence to say something and emerge from your hiding spot.

"What am I doing wrong?"

"I...think you're doing your best, Wally. Don't listen to him."

"Huh..?" Surprised, he looked over and saw you shyly standing beside the loudspeaker, blinking in bewilderment that you were able to sneak back here unnoticed. "Oh hello, Neighbor--! I mean..." He paused, a bashful smile on his face. "S-Sorry, it's-

"Habit? Don't worry, it's okay." You reassured, stepping closer to him as you tried your best to contain your excitement. "You can call me Neighbor..or [y/n], if you wanna."

"[Y/n]..that's a nice name." He nodded, although his gaze turned serious as his eyes flickered left and right, before he leaned down to get closer to you. "It's nice to meet you, but I'm afraid you've must've taken a wrong turn. You can't be back here."

"I know, but..I really wanted to see you! You're my favorite and..I didn't like what that mean man said to you."

"Oh..him? Don't fret, my friend." Wally softly chuckled. "That "mean man" is my director and...he's only suggesting how I can improve myself! He can be blunt sometimes, but I have to listen to him. Just like how you have to listen to your parents and teachers."

"Yeah.....but he didn't have to be so rude." You huffed, hands on your hips. "If he has a problem with your staring, it's his fault, not yours. He's just a big ol' dummy."

He was amused by your attempts to defend him so fiercely, and he couldn't help but break into an even bigger smile.

"I agree, he is a big dummy..but that's a secret between you and me." He winked, before hopping down from his chair, opening his arms up to you. "Well thank you for lifting my spirits, dear [y/n]. I wish I had something for you, but...this is all I can offer."

"That's okay! I'm happy to help!" Nodding, you eagerly hugged him, feeling how soft his plush body was. "You're...not gonna tell anyone I'm here, will you?"

"Nope. Why would I do that to my number one fan?"

All you could do was beam at his compliment.

This was truly the best day ever. Not only did you get to meet Wally face-to-face...but you also helped him feel better!

Sneaking backstage was absolutely worth it.