#it was fun to think about my fandoms. especially about my first ones

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief.  And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me.  And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed.  Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.)  Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences.  Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are.  I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington.  And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll. 

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[captainsophiestark]

Comfort

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: The vigilante couple that takes care of each other after a bad patrol night stays together.

Word Count: 1,173

Category: Fluff, Comfort (after Hurt, but the hurt's not in the fic)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I winced as my boyfriend, Dick Grayson, dabbed antiseptic against the cut on my arm. It needed to be done, and I was glad I didn't have to do it myself, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Sorry," Dick said, his voice soft. I leaned into him.

"It's ok. Thank you for helping."

"You might not want to thank me until we're done stitching this up. I'll do my best to be gentle, but... it probably won't feel great no matter what."

I gave him a weak smile, then let my head drop to rest on his shoulder. He held my injured arm gently in his lap, taking care not to move it more than he had to.

"I think you get the thank you no matter what. Especially since I'd have to try to do this myself if I didn't have you here to help me."

Dick just hummed, and I tried to focus on him and his comforting warmth as he moved to start on the stitches. Being a vigilante was absolutely brutal sometimes, thanks to moments and injuries like this. Especially since we couldn't usually go get treated as our civilian identities, lest it lead to some very awkward questions. But we were doing good, important work, and we were doing it together. Despite the worst days, I wouldn't trade this life for anything, and I knew Dick felt the same.

I focused on taking deep breaths through my nose as Dick worked. I clenched the hand of my non-injured arm, working on keeping the injured one still. Between stitches, Dick muttered comforting words, the tone and timbre of his voice near my ear keeping me as calm as anything else. I lost track of time, zoning out of the moment to focus on breathing and the man beside me.

Finally, Dick let out a sigh and sat back, moving one arm from my wound to around my shoulders. I sighed, leaning further into his chest, finally able to move the arm he'd been working on now that it was all stitched and bandaged.

"You still feeling okay?" he asked, rubbing small circles with his thumb against my good arm. I sighed and nodded.

"As okay as I can feel, considering everything. Thanks again for patching me up."

"You know I'm always happy to take care of you. I'm just sorry you needed it in the first place."

"Eh." I shrugged. "Life of a vigilante."

"Yeah," Dick sighed, sounding a little more melancholy than I'd been expecting. We stayed like that for a few long moments, laying against each other and enjoying the peace after a sketchier-than-usual night of fighting crime.

Finally, Dick sighed again, more as a transition than a lament this time.

"Alright, we both need to eat something, and then get some rest. Anything sound particularly good to you?"

"...I don't know if my heart can take the adventure that is your attempt at cooking on top of the night we've already had."

"I was planning to order in, but it's nice to be reminded that you have no faith at all in my culinary ability."

I just smiled and leaned into him.

"You know I love you, but you also know Jason spilled about the time you managed to burn cereal. I don't think there's a lot of hope for coming back from that, babe."

Dick laughed, pulling me even closer to him, the slightly heavier mood now completely gone.

"I guess that's fair. But one of these days, I'm going to secretly take a cooking class, and then I'll prove you all wrong."

I just hummed. "Take me with you when you do it. A cooking class sounds fun."

Dick chuckled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on my forehead.

"It's a deal. Now come on, let's get you settled in on the couch so we can order something good."

I sighed, but shifted my weight off of Dick. I moved to push myself up to standing, but before I could get very far, Dick shot up next to me and swept me into his arms. I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck in surprise as he carried me towards the living room.

"You're too injured to walk," he said, a grin on his face despite his words. "Doctor's orders, you need to be carried."

"Pretty sure it was just my arm that got really hurt. Some bruises and other injuries on my torso. Legs ended up being pretty okay."

"Mmm, no, I'm pretty sure I'm right."

He set me down on the couch with a flourish, then sat and shifted me around so my legs laid across his lap. He sighed and picked up his phone, taking care of takeout while I got my arm in a comfortable position and stared at the angel of a man that I got to call my boyfriend.

"Alright, food should be here in about twenty minutes," he announced, setting his phone down in triumph. "I vote we watch a movie or something while we wait and eat, then go to bed."

"I have one suggested addition to the plan."

"Yeah?"

"I want to reserve the right for us to change the plan and fall asleep here instead of going to bed."

Dick raised an eyebrow and made a big show of looking me up and down, spending a little extra time evaulating my arm and its position. Then, finally, he met my eyes again.

"You sure your arm's gonna be okay if we stay here?"

I shrugged. "Pretty sure. I've put worse stitching through more strenuous and dangerous activities than a couch nap before."

Dick grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he wrapped an arm over the top of my thighs and pulled me closer to him.

"I don't know. I've heard couch naps can be pretty perilous."

"As long as neither of us rolls off the thing, I feel pretty good about our chances."

He hummed, pulling me even further onto his lap. "We should probably cuddle pretty closely, then. To keep each other safe from falling off this thing."

"Makes sense to me," I said, grinning and turning to lean into Dick. "Safety precautions are important."

He huffed a laugh, then finally stretched out on the couch alongside me, shifting us both so I was half laying on his chest. I could hear the constant comforting beat of his heart through his shirt, and I swear, my blood pressure instantly dropped.

"What are we gonna do when the food gets here?" I groaned, already halfway asleep. The last of the adrenaline had finally faded now that I was here, happy, comfortable, and safe with my favorite person in the world, and I could feel how quickly I was losing the battle with sleep.

"Don't worry," Dick muttered, gently running his hand up and down my back. "I'lll take care of it. You just get some rest."

I hummed, intending to say something else to him, but the exhaustion rooted into my bones and I couldn't keep myself up. I drifted off on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, perfectly safe and content with the love of my life.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[mochinomnoms]

I have no one to share this thought with, that's why I want to express it somewhere. In fact, I'm a newbie in the Twisted Wonderland fandom, but while I'm currently playing through the game (or rather the plot), I have one such question and dissonance. No matter how you look at it, the characters in the game communicate rather unpleasantly with the main character, I wonder what would have happened if the main character had reacted adequately, calmly, coldly and judiciously, that is, essentially not giving in to Crowley's manipulations. It would have been much more interesting to see this in the main character, because it becomes somehow awkward for me to watch how he is manipulated. Moreover, the characters' attitude towards him at the beginning was also rather unpleasant, well, until they became friends there. To some extent, I would like to see the main character as a realist who understands that he ended up in a world he doesn't understand, the director does nothing at all to bring him home, while the attitude of others towards him is simply disgusting. It just seemed at some point that the main character of the game resigned himself to the fact that he was staying in the world of Twisted Wonderland. Well, if it were me (I'm a realist), I would have looked for all possible methods myself, but to return home. This seems to me to be a much more adequate approach to such a turn of events. The question is, will other characters grieve because the adequate main character went back to his world (let's say he found a way to return back)? Perhaps these very close friends, namely Ace, Deuce and Grimm, who really were friends of the main character, will grieve greatly, the rest... Well, this is strictly my opinion, but it doesn't seem like the majority will simply not care.

P.S. Да, я тот человек, который смотрит реальности в глаза, а не смотрит на мир через розовые очки. Я встретил достаточно жестокости в своей жизни и... Вот почему меня раздражает, когда я вижу глупых персонажей, смирившихся со своей участью.

To be honest, the way you're explaining how you'd personally act in Yuu's situation is most likely how most people would react, so I don't see anything particularly wrong with it.

The way the player acts in-game is probably done so because if they acted accordingly, there probably wouldn't be a game, lol. Or at the very least a vastly different game. That's what makes fics so fun though, you are bound to find one that aligns with what you think would really happen, or just find one that's fun lol. Though, I personally don't see canon Yuu as just resigning themselves as much as they're super flexible and go with the flow. There are points in the game that Yuu is a bit snappy or blunt, and lines from the characters on the homescreen especially that point to the player being cheeky, a troublemaker, and touchy with the characters,

I do think more than just ADeuce and Grim would be sad about Yuu leaving though, Malleus is very close to the player, mostly because he's fascinated by their lack of reaction to who he is. Even if Yuu was more of a realist when meeting him, he's so fascinated (and starved for genuine friendship) that he's delighted by almost any version of Yuu. Kalim is also a sweetie, so he's gonna be upset as well, even if Yuu is just an acquaintance. At the very least, I would include Jack with the first three just because he seems fond enough of Yuu to let himself get “dragged” (he went willingly, lol) into their troubles during Book 3. The rest of the cast I think you can argue for as long as you get through their books, I think Pomefiore especially after Book 6.

But it's late and i don't have many thoughts left, so I'll end it there lol.

(also im sorry hon i don't know what the last bit is, i only speak english and spanish haha)

[evankinkley]

Any recommendations on actual good gay rep on tv? i need it.

oof. i'm going to be fucking basic here, I fear. but I can share my favorites (again these will be basic af).

Heartstopper - no brainer. It's fucking painful at times, but it's doesn't play into stereotypes. It addresses the stereotypes and how they can be harmful. They cover most of the letters in the LGBTQIA+ line-up. There's a character who says "I'm bi, actually." six times (?) in one season because people keep calling him gay. Extra bonus: most actors are also part of the rainbow community.

Agatha All Along - Spooky season has just passed, but no time like the present to watch MCU's gayest project that is queer and feminist and embraces it completely. (does not have a happy ending for some of the gays, but still beautiful)

Black Sails - It's a show about gay pirates. They're gay and it's not the most interesting part about them. There's lesbians, gays, people just going with the vibes... Happy ending, yes and no.

Hannibal - It's a show about gay cannibals. They're obsessed with each other. The definition of "Can't live with them/ Can't live without them." Happy ending is debatable in the sense that it's ambigious.

Red, White and Royal Blue - oh, especially this week. Since it was a loss for the USA and now for bisexuals. Have a fun and painful movie about the First Son bisexual king Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Biracial, bisexual, complete idiot, and his mom is the democratic president of the united states. Happy ending assured.

Like I said, a pretty fucking basic list but these are my comfort shows and have incredible writing / representation and it's clear so much care went into making them. A lot of these shows have actively avoided harmful stereotypes in the show itself but also how the creators and actors have talked about these projects.

Honorable mention for Shadow and Bone, your potential was incredible but sadly it was not meant to be.

If you're looking for a new fandom that will hurt less and make you feel less betrayed, this is an ok start, i'd think. My inbox is always open to talk about it.

Don't get me started on other forms of gay media. One day I'll read my entire library.

[goldyluna]

WAIT I DIDNT REALIZE YOU AKREADY ANSWERED 16 IGNORE MY LAST ASK

hmm how about 19 or 20 instead ?? :0

haha, dw :3

19. Your current fandom(s)

There is a lot. Through years I loved a lot of media and my favourite fandoms change a lot, but usually I go back to some after some time.

My all time main fandom I love and I am actively participating is Your Turn To Die. If I'm being honest, it is the ONLY fandom I interact with people so much. Usually I just enjoy the oryginal or the fan content (and sometimes do something myself).

But to do a list, the fandoms (not in any specific order) I am active on different levels, as I search posts, fanart and whatnots are:

Your Turn To Die - not very big fandom, but it feels so cosy here. I hope to stay in this fandom for a very long time <3

My Hero Academia - it is a come-and-go kind of interest, but now that it is so close to the end, I went back into the rabbit hole. I should pick up my AU too. It is a little dusty, oops.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica - I am more of an art-searching type of girl with this one so this fandom is more in the background. But I have my own AU and I like searching some deep analises about this anime sometimes (usually if I need something to the AU).

Project Sekai - I am pretty new to the fandom and it can be really tricky, but I love the story and characters and all things people make. And I love reading posts about my favs.

Trash of the Counts Family - one of my favourite manhwas that I keep up with and I find people interacting with this fandom really interesting.

There are more fandoms I am in, but I don't think they are so significant right now. There will be a new season of Sweet Home, so I may be more hyped about it then. But also the fandoms I may not be so active in interactive with, but I still like and I don't scroll away if I see them are: My Little Pony, Undertale, Omori, Fran Bow, ATLA, Alice in Borderland and Hunger Games.

20. Your very first fandom!

Ohhhh, this question makes me nostalgic. I don't know if it was my first first fandom, but I was so into Phineas and Ferb! I don't remember how young I was—I think it was during my primary school—and I looooooved reading fanfics about Phineas (he was my favourite character). I know that because of that I started to learn more English, as a lot of things were written in that language, so I google-translate it and learnt new words in the process. I can't say I was really aware of the fandom as a whole then, I loved reading and looking at art, but I didn't really interact more than leaving a like. But this makes me remember something that—I think—is a nice anecdote. I always was interested in writting, but I wasn't good in it. So, young me got the brightest idea to google translate the fanfic, make it more grammaticaly correct (as the translation was kind of shit) and to take it as my own fanfic. FORTUNATELY, I didn't go with the idea, because I got bored with it. And well, now I write my own stuff and younger me can be proud now (if she wouldn't try to steal it again, this time from myself XD).

But there was another fandom I really loved when I was young. Vocaloids. Tbh, I don't know if I really was in the fandom, I just really loved KAITO. I am more into the Vocaloids now as I play Project Sekai.

[triglycercule]

"finally, mine. heh, and it looks better than both of yours."

"uhhh, mine and dust's are both in the same style, same everything. like, there's not even that much different about yours, horror."

"yeah, but it's me."

"i hope an alternate version of you gets severely mischaracterized irreparably."

"... damn."

💜/💙/❤️

[ahalliance]

i’m gonna keep pretending vague qsmp stuff isn’t being teased

[dariadraws]

@flitwickslittlebrotha hello and happy holidays from your @aftgexchange buddy! all your prompts were super fun so it was genuinely hard to choose which one to make, but in the end i went for Andrew/Kevin slice of life, so please enjoy this little snapshot of a nice, relaxing post-game afternoon. sorry this is a little late but i hope you like it!!

[heloflor]

After seeing a playthrough of Bowser’s Inside Story, I gotta say I’m kind of mixed on Starlow, and no, it’s not just because of the Luigi bullying.

The thing with Starlow is that, on one hand, it’s great to see a female character who has no hesitation talking back and who can be a bit of an ass. But at the same time, the way they wrote her just…it really makes it hard to like her sometimes.

I think the main issue is that she’s written as someone who talks back but most of those interactions are with people doing their jobs and messing up. This leads to moments with Starlow criticizing someone for the things they’re doing, but then proceeding to do nothing whatsoever to help. On top of that, she’s kind of useless in the game, making her “I’m better than you” attitude really come off in a bad way.

(btw that moment with the doctor/fortune-teller calling her out on it is very satisfying)

The best way to describe the issue, and that’s when it gets interesting, is to compare her to how Bowser is written in this game. There are essentially two things that are similar yet different about those two.

1. Like I said, Starlow is often criticizing people for what they’re doing, which is something Bowser does as well. But where Starlow goes “Man you suck at your job. Do better !” Bowser goes “Man you suck at your job. Here, let me do it for you !” and that automatically makes Bowser more likeable. Because instead of just complaining, he actually does things (the section with the Monty Moles for example).

2. A bit longer to explain but the Tl;Dr is that Bowser actually learns from his mistakes and grows while Starlow doesn’t. To explain this, I want to describe two interactions between those two.

The first interaction is when Bowser forgets the code to his safe and orders Starlow to find it, to which Starlow gets angry with his tone and tells him to fuck off, only accepting to help once he politely asks her to search. That right here is really good, and is an example of a moment where I really like Starlow’s attitude.

But then you have their next interaction. Bowser just spent hours stuck in a safe (btw someone stuck in a liminal space like that is a form of torture), was thrown into the garbage so hard the safe broke, and understandably is in enormous pain. Because of that, Bowser asks Starlow to help with his back, and his dialogue here echoes the previous one in a good way.

He starts off his sentence as an order, only to catch himself halfway through and ask politely. Bowser just went through hell, is in a huge amount of pain, and yet still finds it within himself to be polite because he knows that’s how Starlow wants to be addressed. This also shows that he respects Starlow since he remembered that detail about her and is willing to avoid falling into his usual bossy attitude despite his terrible state.

And what does Starlow do in return ? She basically calls him a whiney bitch for complaining. Yeah….this is not a good look.

This actually reminds me of one of their first interactions, when Bowser can’t produce fire and panics about it, with Starlow telling him to just deal with it. The first time I saw this dialogue I was like “Hey Starlow, buddy, how would you feel if you suddenly lost your ability to fly, with no idea of why and the only one that might help is some random voice you don’t know anything about coming from your stomach ?” Although, I’d cut Starlow some slack for this one since this is very early on, so Starlow has every right to be mad at him.

And more on that topic, the thing with comparing Bowser and Starlow is that you quickly realize how much better Bowser is than her. I already mentioned Bowser doing things himself and showing respect to her, but then there’s also moments like him being humble enough to eat Wiggler’s carrot when being ordered to to “take responsibility”, or when he out loud says he will break the rocks in his path to free the Koopas, and decide to commit to it upon realizing the Koopas heard him. In that second case, he could’ve easily gone a different path and tell the Koopas to shut up if they were to say anything, but he didn’t. Instead, he said he will break that rock and that’s what he’s going to do ! Same for the Wiggler btw. He could’ve beaten them up instead of eating that carrot, which he does end up doing afterwards when Wiggler loses their shit.

So yeah, when you look at how not-very-useful Starlow is compared to Bowser, when you look at how they treat others, and when you look at their interactions with each other…it’s kinda hard to find Starlow likeable when a literal villain is a better person than she is (granted Bowser is more of an anti-hero in this game but the point still stands).

Funnily enough, some of those moments like the Wiggler, the Koopas and him saying please to Starlow while in pain actually show that yes, Bowser is a pretty decent king. At the very least, you can understand why his people respect him.

So all-in-all, yeah, I’m kind of 50/50 on Starlow. It’s great to have a female character on the hero team who has a lot of flaws for once, but it’s also hard to find her attitude likeable. Ultimately, I think the issue is how she’s acting the same with everyone. Like I said earlier, it is satisfying when Bowser is being a dick and she tells him off. But when Bowser is being nice, or when she’s interacting with someone who’s only trying to help, Starlow really comes off as an ass, which is not a good look.

And yes, while still a minor thing in BIS, her bullying Luigi doesn’t help either.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

As someone who has played FE since FE7 came out in the west and have since played the games prior to and after it, I really don’t see how Engage is “the best FE game of all time” and yadda yadda that people keep claiming. Just because it has more customization and “freedom” doesn’t... automatically make it a better game? Personally I get more aggravated when there’s too much freedom and too many options for gameplay. Even Houses had a tad too much customization that I rarely use because it had so many menus and I love Houses.

Sure, I liked Engage, but I can’t see why it’s suddenly the bestest theeng evur just because it’s the newest entry. I had more fun with Hopes playing AG than the entirety of Engage, and I can compare them because they both reused old characters, so there was a similar feeling of interest being able to see old characters again. Other than that, I’m interested in like... two, maybe three characters tops in Engage.

Soren is pretty much the only Emblem perfectly on point who wasn’t almost entirely generic with conversations. Sigurd had fewer generic conversations and was completely ooc, so that was a big fat wah wah for me (because as we all know, IntSys pretends canon Sigurd does not exist in the whole franchise now and only uses ghost!Sigurd’s like five lines of dialogue as his only and whole personality).

Honestly I think I’m kind of getting bitter toward Engage as an entry because people keep saying it’s the best FE game ever made, especially for gameplay (big ol’ lel from me), but it’s almost always at the expense of Three Houses in one way or another, about how Houses is a worse game. It’s... really not. Oh noooo, they didn’t use anti-aliasing, the whole game suuucks. 😒

(Oh yeah, and FE9 was supposed to be the original hub world game where you got to run around at a base camp and all that fun stuff, so uhhh... that kind of thing has nothing to do with newer entries being better and all that stuff.)

Also, I am being 110% more critical of these people and Engage right now because I have a headache and have felt pretty crappy without even being sick for the past few days. :’)

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I get haunted by my past as a dr fan because someone mentions it or smth and lemme tell you the worst case scenario is if they bring up v3 in an even slightly positive light because nothing will make me start giving a shit abt dr again except for my burning hatred of that damn game, I just spent like 30 minutes ranting to myself about how much of a nothing character Kokichi is in the bathroom after showering just to vent it out because if I don't rant abt v3 every now and then I'll explode and kill someone

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌

fandom: gravity falls

relationship: stanford pines x reader

summary: the moment Ford realized he liked you. 

contains: stan being stan, the uh-oh moment, and pining

Ford wasn’t the most social person, to put it plainly. Despite his popularity amongst his teachers at school and the odd handful of classmates, he normally preferred his own company, otherwise his family’s. It had been that way for a long time, and it seemed like it would remain so for the foreseeable future.

And so it did. That is, until he met you, which he did not see coming. 

You had this welcoming presence about you, that much was clear by the way you spoke to him for the first time in the seventh grade, remaining mostly unfazed by his sixth digit aside from the initial surprise. The first time he caught himself rambling about parapsychology and anomalistics, he found no judgment or disinterest in your expression. In fact, you were actually listening, setting down whatever you were doing just to give him your undivided attention. That was a first. It felt nice to have someone (who wasn’t his brother or mother) listen to him. 

And the energy was returned, as he indulged your interests too. Before he knew it, Ford would often seek out your company, whether his brother was available or not, and the two of you could usually be found bouncing ideas off of each other. The room seemed to brighten when you came into view, your presence made him feel comfortably warm inside. Whenever you two parted ways, it always felt too soon, just like it did now.

“Oh my gosh.”

Stan’s voice drew Ford’s attention away from you as you left.

“What?” he asked, mildly perturbed by the wily grin on his brother’s face. Stan just chuckled and nudged him, “You’ve got it so bad, it’s almost embarrassing.” he teased, to which Ford lightly shoved him away, beginning their route back home from the pier. 

“Stanley, come on. They’re my friend just as they are yours. They’re good company.” he said, glancing off to the side, as if that could conceal the rosy pink hue on his face, but Stan remained undeterred. “Sixer, face it. You’re whipped with a capital wh-pshh!” he said, smacking one hand with his other for emphasis. 

“I am not- look, [Name] is very kind and a good friend, I appreciate that. It’s not like I lie awake at night thinking about them.”

Several hours later, it was well past nightfall and everyone in the Pines household was fast asleep, save Ford. 

Up on the top bunk, he laid on his back, hands folded over his midriff as his chest heaved slowly and his heart thrummed steadily beneath its surface. That warmth was still present, especially around his face. His conversation with Stanley had been playing on loop all evening.

Of course Ford liked you, heck, he was crazy about you. You were so nice to him and fun to be around, your enthusiasm was so endearing, and you never treated his abnormalities as though they were defects.

And you weren’t bad to look at either, of course, like earlier that afternoon on the boardwalk when the sun’s light highlighted your features. He could stare at you for hours. The way you diminished his resolve just by looking his way and smiling at him was so positively-

Oh.

Oh. 

“Oh no.”

Ford could just faintly hear a sleepy chuckle from his brother in the bunk below him. 

if this gets enough notes I’ll write a part 2

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

[gentlemanjuniper]

If I could inject just a little positivity to the news...

Season 2 has a lot of filler and stretches out a pretty simple mystery to six episodes. That's the appeal to some, I get it. But tightness and focus was not its strong suit. I remember feeling like it wasted a ton of time on side characters and it's possible shaving the story down to 90 minutes will skim things down to its most essential beats and be stronger for it. Basically, S2 got a lot of time given to it, and this is obviously my personal opinion but I don't think it used all of it well. I think S2 itself could have been half the length simply by employing more efficient storytelling and we'd not mourn too much.

A lot of S2's weaker plotlines feel built around people that Neil wanted to work with again, with so many recurring actors (I'm thinking of the zombies specifically, when that minisode could have easily been tighter without them). A lot of s2 to me feels like Neil just making work for the people he likes and wants to work with and a movie has to be more accountable to things like that.

Lots of entire fandoms exist around single movies. 90 minutes is not nothing. It's enough for many, many films to tell a complete story with cute character interactions and satisfying emotional arcs, especially when A&C are the only real significant connecting threads between both seasons thus far.

I don't think there are as many loose threads that absolutely need resolving as people may be thinking. Would I like to know why Aziraphale did the '40s apology dance? Would I like to see his bookshop gun? Sure. Are either of those necessarily essential to closing out the story? I don't think so. Really, what needs resolving is the second coming and, directly connected to that, Aziraphale and Crowley's rift. To me, not knowing the story obviously, that seems super reasonable to do in 90 minutes?

I don't think anyone involved in the final season can possibly be blind to the appeal of the show being Aziraphale and Crowley over anything else. That's certainly the reason why their roles were expanded to begin with from the book and why the second season was, nominally, all about them. They also now have to pay MS and DT for appearing in a movie rather than an ensemble show, there's no way they won't be front and center. Amazon wants a show that will make money and market itself; there's a reason why all the promo material for S2 was of Crowley and Aziraphale, because people engage with that stuff, reblog it, make art that promotes the show, etc. It makes no artistic or financial sense to make a movie that sidelines them.

GO is at its best when it has Terry's voice most strongly in it. That's why to me, S2 was a weaker, more meandering season overall (that, and I think the minisodes, while fun, just make the season feel comprised of different voices not always working in tandem towards a common goal). If I was a writer hired to condense a season into a film, and one of the authors had been rightfully disgraced, I would go out of my way to ensure the clearly Terry stuff is most significantly emphasized. It's telling to me that the Pratchett estate is producing and it's possible that the end result will result in more Terry, less Neil.

Think of it this way: everything we've gotten after S1 has always been extra. Imagine telling a fan of the book in the 90s that not only will you get a six episode adaptation, you also get a totally new second season, AND a movie?

Basically: I know this is disappointing but I think a lot of the pleasure of the Good Omens fandom was ALWAYS people picking up on and expanding on details, and y'all managed to do that just fine when A&C were only ensemble members in S1. You can and will do that with a movie too. And this solution both a) ensures first and foremost that Neil won't be involved or the allegations swept under the rug, and b) gives an opportunity for the heart of the story to be emphasized with greater focus, clarity and less filler.

Will we lose good stuff? Probably. But it's also possible we will get a tighter, more condensed, focused version of the best bits, the Terry Pratchett-est bits. I can easily see a 90 minute movie that, knowing they HAVE to focus on the important stuff now, is more Crowley and Aziraphale centric than ever.

[sleepiexx]

Something He’d Overheard

James Potter x fem!Reader

Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.

Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.

Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft

Word Count: 1151

After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.

He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.

You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.

Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”

They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.

The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.

“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”

The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”

You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”

As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.

“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”

“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.

It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.

It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“

Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”

The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.

In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.

He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”

You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”

James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”

“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.

When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.

You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.

“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”

James nods, almost surprised at himself.

You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”

Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?

“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.

You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.

“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.

You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”

And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”

If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.