#okay but i got so inspired for this though so i'm sorry about the length and you totally don't have to match it if you don't want-

[brutalmasks]

@bucketkicked asked: [ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] : sender is asking if they can touch receiver sexually. -Irene!!

fresh from a bath in the nearest river (hey, a girl's got to bathe somehow and getting plumbing in a cave? it was near to impossible), bunny mask entered her cave seemingly feeling at least twice as better than she did before. and the fact that irene was supposed to be coming over soon too? well, that honestly put her in an even more cheerier mood; for the other woman and her really seemed to connect the more they talked as well as spent time with one another. plus, the fact that irene is very attractive was just the icing on the cake for bunny mask, in all honesty. she'd hardly been able to hold herself back from asking her out the second or third time she saw her... and i say that because bunny had worried that perhaps she would be coming off too strong if she did that.

but after deciding to invite her to a covert date, bunny mask found out that irene seemed to return her affections in full. which was honestly both nerve-wracking and exciting in the same stretch. bunny felt like if she could blush, she would just thinking about irene right now, actually. she hugged the robe she was wearing closer to her as she entered her cave; sliding the two large barn-like doors that granted her some privacy from the rest of the world open, only to see that irene was here early. and she was only in a robe, bunny mask thought to herself, as her heart beat quickened. but in a good way. she let out a sound that bunny mask always tried to replicate but could never quite get right: a laugh.

❝ ahh, i am sorry i am not decent, irene. i did not anticipate you would be here when i returned — ❞ she had barely enough time to get those words out before irene was coming close to her, then asked her four fateful words with an undertone of arousal to them: 'can i touch you?' bunny mask could also see the desire in the other's eyes and it made a fire start to grow deep within her belly. she wanted to be touched by her, yes, so she slowly closed the distance between them and untied her robe; it immediately falling open a fair amount as bunny wrapped an arm around irene's neck. she was breathless already at the question, part of her breasts and pussy exposed to irene.

❝ yes. yes, please touch me. especially while you're looking at me like that, ❞ bunny took one of the other's hands and gently placed it on her breast. ❝ i trust you, and i honestly think i may be smitten with you, so you can touch me anywhere you'd like. ❞

[torakowalski]

Bit of a delay since the last part, but we're back! It's still late 1986/early 1987, they're still in a hotel, Eddie has still recently seen Steve's dick. This little pre getting-together mini arc should be three parts, then we're back to swimming!

(part one | part two | part three)

Robin is laughing so hard she sounds like she's gonna die, which isn't really helping Eddie's troubles but is making him smile despite himself. Girl's got an infectious cackle, what can he say.

"Oh my god," she says, more air than words, making static blow down the phone and right into his ear canal. He winces. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I know it's not funny, but you told it like it was funny to make me laugh, don't deny it."

Eddie had told his tale of woe like it was funny to make her laugh, so he doesn't deny it. "I know I'm being stupid," he says, feeling serious now, and listening as her laughter trails off. "But I kind of feel like I'm being a creep? Like, he thinks we're straight guys together, and it's totally chill if he comes out of the shower naked, but we're not."

Not to mention that seeing so much of Steve so often is doing nothing for Eddie's stupid crush, but he doesn't mention that. Either Robin knows about it or she doesn't, and if she doesn't, he's not gonna tell her.

She sighs. "Yeah, I know that feeling. But I mean, being naked is just like the norm for him; you know what jocks are like. And even when he is dressed, it's in tiny speedos half the time. I'm lucky, he never got totally naked around me, but I literally had to scream at him to get him to remember pants."

Eddie grins to himself. "What did you scream?" he asks, privately hoping it was just the word PANTS! over and over until Steve got the message.

Robin does a little cackle. "Okay, bear in mind I was at the end of my tether but it may have been, 'PUT YUR DICK AWAY, I AM TOO GAY FOR THIS!'"

It's Eddie's turn to laugh until he's maybe gonna choke. That is so much better than 'PANTS.'

"You're an inspiration, Buckley," he tells her and he means it.

They were always friendly in Hawkins, but he thinks they might be real friends now. Mostly because half the time she calls for Steve lately, his training is running long and she gets stuck talking to Eddie, instead, just like she is right now.

It's nice, having a friend who just gets it. Who knows not just the painful things that come from growing up gay in a small town, but the weird things and the funny things, too.

"I mean, you could do it too," Robin says, like it's easy. "Yell that in Steve's face, and I guarantee he'll feel super guilty and take you seriously and never wave his dick around in front of you again."

"He's not exactly waving it," Eddie protests, except now that's all he can picture. "That'd be a hell of a way to come out to him I guess though, huh? Just scream it in his face."

"Isn't that how you tell everyone everything?" Robin asks. "Or does it only work if there's a lunch table to strut around on."

"Nah, I'm resourceful." Eddie grips the phone receiver tighter, checks the length of the cord. "Hang on, I'm getting up on the bed."

"Eddie," Robin laughs, but Eddie's already done it.

Feet planted on the slippery hotel comforter, he does an experimental bounce and almost immediately brushes the top of his head against the popcorn ceiling.

"Okay, I'm up. So? I picture I'm in the lunch room?"

"Yup," says Robin. "Table of cheerleaders over there, table of jocks over there, me waving at you from the band geek table, and Steve standing in front of you, totally naked."

"I think I've had that dream," Eddie mutters.

"Ew," she says. "Moving on. You're Eddie the Brave, you're on your stage, what do you say?"

Eddie takes a deep breath. "STEVE HARRINGTON, PUT YOUR DICK AWAY, I AM TOO GAY TO SEE IT!"

He doesn't yell it as loudly as he could, since he doesn't want anyone in the rooms next door to hear, but Robin still says, "Yes! Perfect!" sounding delighted.

Eddie grins, flops down onto the bed. Then sits up again in a startled rush, when the door handle turns and Steve lets himself in.

Any hope that he didn't hear dies the second Eddie sees his face. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are up in his hairline, and he is definitely, definitely blushing.

"Steve," Eddie says strangled. Then, louder, "Robin! Steve's back!" He shoves the receiver at Steve who takes it automatically. "It's Robin. For you. Robin! Calling for you! I'll give you guys some privacy. Have a good talk. Goodbye."

Shoeless, he flees the room.

(continued here)

[peachhcs]

sharks development camp

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a blurb of macklin talking to will about samy and their breakup while at the sharks development camp.

i got inspired from that one post i saw where will and macklin are roommates at the dev camp, so i produced this short little snippet. it's actually kind of cutie because will's being like an older brother in a way :)

au masterlist

the two boys practically collapsed onto their beds as soon as they were back in the room. the few days they'd been in san jose were extremely fun, but also very exhausting. they were on the ice from sun up to sun down basically, so breaks were far and few between.

at least it was good for getting a full night's sleep because all the boys were out by the time the day finished. will rolled onto his side, reaching for his phone he stuffed into his backpack that was a little bit more than an arm's length away from him at the moment. he stretched a little bit farther and was able to wrap his fingers around the device in the side pocket.

he scanned down the list of notifications for anything important. there were a few texts from his mom and the family group chat, but other than that, things were pretty quiet on will's phone. it'd become a lot quieter now that there was no multiple messages from samy.

will didn't want to admit to himself that he missed seeing her name on his screen with about 10 different messages from her in the time he was at practice.

"can i ask you a bit of a..personal question?" macklin's voice broke will from his thoughts. the older boy rolled to the side macklin was on who stared up at the ceiling.

"what?"

"you're not a virgin, are you?" well, that definitely was a personal question. will's expression twisted for a second before shaking his head.

"uh..yeah, no. i'm not," shit. every. single. conversation. led will right back to samy. at least he didn't spiral this time unlike last time back at the combine where he pretty much made himself look super pathetic.

"okay, sorry. that was like..weird and personal. i don't know. i feel like every person i've talked to isn't and it makes me feel weird sometimes because like..i haven't done.." macklin trailed off realizing this was a weird conversation topic.

"no, it's fine. i get it. i was the same too for a long time," the blonde said and he felt like he was being some older brother right now.

"really?"

"yeah, i didn't like..actually do anything until i was 18," will said almost in embarrassment, but he knew that wasn't anything to be embarrassed about.

"oh. wow. was it like..a hookup or like.." macklin kept asking which will didn't mind. he kind of wished he had someone like himself when he was 16, 17, 18 to talk about all of this. none of his friends really talked about it a whole lot, or they did but it was always in a weird, gross way.

"no, it was with my ex girlfriend," will flinched saying ex girlfriend. it felt so weird calling samy that.

"wait, ex girlfriend?" macklin sat up, confusion on his features.

the blonde's face flushed a little, "oh, i guess we haven't really told people. uh, samy and i broke up."

he watched the brunette's eyes widen in shock, "you broke up? when?"

"like..early june?"

"wait, why? i thought you two were like..oh my god, is that why samy like avoided you when you came over and talked to us at the draft?" macklin's eyes widened in realization.

"yeah..basically. i don't know. i..i kind of realize it was a shitty decision on my part, but i don't really know how to fix it," the older boy admitted, sitting up some.

"did something happen? like what happened?"

"nothing bad..i just..i freaked a bit when i signed on last month. i think i got into my head a little too much and i made the decision without talking it out before i did. she won't talk to me really, though so i can't talk to her," will shrugged, a frown on his lips.

"oh, wow. i'm sorry. i didn't know," the brunette frowned too.

"don't worry. it's my fault and i kind of deserve being avoided."

"maybe i can talk to her? she kind of took beckett and i under her wing at the draft, so maybe we can talk her up," macklin laughed a little.

"no, it's fine. i'll see her anyway at our family vacation, so maybe i can..talk to her or something," will waved the boy off.

"well, if it's any consolation, i think she'd take you back if she heard you out. from what i knew, you guys really cared about each other," macklin shrugged a bit.

"thanks, i appreciate that," will managed a small smile.

the two started getting into talking about something else, but samy lingered on will's mind for the rest of the night. when macklin fell asleep will seriously thought about reaching out to her. his finger hovered above the send button and he deleted and retyped a bunch of messages, but he ultimately decided he shouldn't because why would she even want hear from him anyway?

[ashleymasenado]

TADC: Pomni Through the Looking Glass (and What She Found There)

@endomentendo, be glad that you have inspired me, but prepare to be spited cause that's exactly why I'm writing this. If I got most stuff wrong including the tech (look I had to improvise the looking glass okay no one really cares if it's different from yours (wow for once I don't care about getting canon right)) I'm probably just a little sorry.

Also if Pomni's name is the same in the real world and digital wonderland, then I'm glad I got this right then.

But for anyone else who's also enjoying this, please enjoy! And maybe leave a little comment on what you thought; I haven't written a full-length story, much less a one-shot in a long time, and I'm excited to be back into my natural talent of writing!

(P.S. before we move on: I might write a little thing based on Endo's little opening comic for in Wonderland…)

(Also apologies if my writing style feels old, I had just reread the original Through the Looking Glass recently lol)

——————————————————————————————————

The little white kitty robot had been malfunctioning lately. At least, that's what her sister had been saying based on her own observations. And this time, the little thing had been moving on its own, all because a simple move of its shelf had flicked a switch and now it was just about to fall off said shelf. When it was close to hitting the ground, it was just barely caught by the only worker in the store that day, Pomni Gardner.

"There you go," she smiled tiredly, petting the furry kitty's head and shelfing it again. In all her five years of working at Cable and Analog Convenience, the little robot kitty she had made in high school was sometimes her rare source of company when her sister was out of town making supply trips. That, and the other two robot kittens on display only. But the little white kitten, which she had named Snowy, was one of the more active ones due to a little floor accident she figured was the cause of her random turn-ons these days.

Pomni leaned on the counter with a sigh, looking over the blank account of the past few mundane days on the computer for the store's records. No one had come into the store in a long time, so she had mostly felt that there was no need to come in at all. But ever since her sister's insistence for her to take her place just a day before she left, Pomni hadn't really had a choice in the manner.

She leaned back in her chair and stared up thoughtfully at the ceiling, desperate to get away from her boredom. It hadn't been a very long time ago since she had somehow dreamt of a strange place, created of her own imagination yet of very real sensations somehow. The little white clown with the giant pocket watch hopping from monitor to monitor and ending up in one that hadn't worked in years… she still wasn't sure it was such a wise choice to follow it and fall into the small screen, with a new form that forced her to question her new identity: was she the same person she was that morning, or a different one entirely? Hey, English class was finally coming in handy.

Even thought it was all a dream in the end, it was a very strange one. Even stranger, somehow she had woken up with a VR headset on her head, which she suspected her sister had placed on her to try and shake her awake, yet it hadn't really helped much. But she appreciated the effort, even if she hadn't asked her about it yet. The whole thing was very curious though.

Pomni groaned, more out of exasperation than anything else. She grabbed the little white cat off the nearby shelf and flicked the switch, watching it move around the table in a cute and almost realistic manner like an actual kitten. She had been quite proud of being the sole builder of this little mechanism, even if she had to use a few parts from their own store when it was only her sister running it back in the day. But in the end, she never really noticed, so it was all fine.

"You know, Snowy," she started, leaning her head on her hand as her elbow settled on the counter. She chuckled at the cliche nickname, her bored smile growing wider as the little cat came over to her hand and gave a small robotic purr. "It was the darndest thing, that dream I had a few months ago. It only feels like yesterday I had become a very different person, or atleast, that's what my body experienced. It was more of a physical change than anything. But can it really be considered physical if it was inside of a digital world? Anyway, it still gave me a weird existential crisis."

Pomni pulled the little white robot kitten onto her lap, feeling it settle there like a regular cat as she began to stroke its head. She and her sister, the only employees at C&A Convenience, weren't allowed to bring in any pets for the sake of their customers, so it was nice to have this little girl for company, even if she wasn't the real thing. "I wonder what it would be like to have you with me, Snowy. What would a little robot cat be like in that strange digital world? Would you be able to talk and be your own person, or would you still be as you are now? Gosh, when did I start asking so many questions?"

Pomni rubbed her own head, returning to petting the little kitten afterwards. She directed her attention to the newly imported wide-screen TV, which her sister had repaired with the help of their uncle. Now it looked just like new, which she really appreciated as she smiled and admired her reflection for just a moment. The screen was so big and clear, it was just like looking through a giant mirror. It was these kind of televisions that they said had images so vivid and lifelike it was like they were jumping out of the screen or they could pull you into the video itself. Pomni had never had a chance to see what that was like, and there was sadly no video player to plug into the TV, so she was just going to imagine it best she could.

"Could you imagine if an image could actually pull you into it, Snowy?" She said with a light chuckle, putting the little robot on the counter and standing up to get her fourth cup of coffee. She sat back down and started sipping her cup, looking over at Snowy who she had shut down so it wouldn't waddle off the counter and fall again. "It'd probably be a weird experience, just like when I accidentally fell through the monitor as if it were a hole in the ground. Just imagine the whole thing—the space just warping around you, like a vacuum cleaner, slowly taking you into a different place…"

Pomni was surprised at her own bravery to describe this fascinating and yet horrifying scenario, but not as surprised as she was to see the lights around her dim and the TV slowly flickering to life. She put down her cup on the counter and carefully leaned closer to the screen, which showed just a little bit of static and that same annoying buzzing sound you'd hear when the TV wouldn't work and all you'd get was said static. But as she leaned in closer to the screen for curiosity's sake, she saw the static was like a misty veil, like a lacy white curtain or the kind of mist you'd see on your window on a cold or snowy day.

"What in the…?"

Out of instinct, she reached out her hand to the screen and almost drew her hand back at its warmth. It wasn't an unwelcoming warmth, like a boiling pot or a fever, but it was a strange warmth nonetheless. And the screen seemed to ripple where she touched it… how curious.

She tried it again, keeping her hand there for longer. Using her other hand, she wiped at the misty veil of static, and drew back with a sound gasp.

For in the place of her normal reflection, of a young human 25-year-old woman, was the same character she had become in that dream of a digital Wonderland.

With a frustrated frown, she tried to pull her hand away from the screen, which she found was soundly stuck and was even beginning to sink into it. Gosh darn it, why didn't she learn anything from the last time?! Was this about to become a new adventure that she didn't want to be dragged into? Why did she ever come close to this TV in the first place…

Her reflection seemed to mirror her distress, even though she was yet to take that form—which she would soon take if she didn't pull back. But the warm feeling of her hand going through and next her arm was almost like rapidly falling into quicksand—no way out unless someone pulled you free.

And with a silent curse falling from her lips, Pomni was sucked through the television screen, which was as clear as the looking glass, before it was as silent and blank as it was before.

[dotster001]

What Was Will be Again

Summary: Satan x gn!reader Satan finds that texting the attendant is an easy way to communicate without his wrath interfering. But it isn't long before he craves more.

A/N: this is heavily inspired by how, in nightbringer, Satan seems to hate us and want nothing to do with us, but he's also texting to rank his favorite cat things. So I said, both can go hand in hand 😂

Everything was too much. This existence was too noisy, too aggressive, too uncaring. And yet…when you told him to "STAY!", there was a brief moment he felt peace.

Still everytime he tried to talk to you, the only words out of his mouth were in anger. The first few times you were startled, but at length you'd seemed to accept it. 

It's not his fault! He wants to shout how much he cares, how much he wants to make you happy! But he's always so angry! He can't control it, and it's…frightening. Frightening that he could destroy the only peace he's found in his entire existence.

One day, though, he's looking through the royal library, and there's a book that reminds him of you. Without thinking, he texts you using the number Lucifer gave him, and sends you all manner of book recommendations.

It takes half a second for him to realize what he's done, but you are enthusiastic in your response.

I'll be sure to let you know what I think!

He turned off his phone, and clutched it to his chest, a grin overtaking his normally sour features.

He was scared though, that your relationship would change. That you'd challenge this out in the open, or worse, in front of Lucifer. But you didn't say anything. You treated him as you always did. He couldn't be more grateful.

It was just so much easier to talk to you over text. It was safer! He couldn't scare you off like that…

"Ooh who are you smiling at?" Asmo asked, giggling and trying to read Satan's texts over his shoulder.

"What are you blabbering about?"he snapped, shutting down his phone.

"People only smile at their phones like that when it's someone special. Now tell me who it is!" Asmo whined, as he draped himself over Satan's lap.

Satan stood up and let Asmo fall, but still. This was the first moment he thought that, maybe, just maybe, talking to you in person wouldn't be so bad.

Then you sent him another picture of a cat, and his brain got thoroughly distracted. But over the course of the next couple days, he thought and thought  about it, before deciding to try and talk to you.

"You're chewing too loudly," he snapped. That's not what he wanted to say to you, he just heard the noise and that was all his brain could process.

You froze, swallowed, and said, "I'm sorry, Satan. I'll try to be quieter."

He snarled, and walked away, before realizing he'd completely blown the interaction. Why was it so hard? And why were you so understanding?! As he processed what had just gone down, you'd already texted him about how a manga Levi recommended you was something you thought he'd enjoy based on his recommendations.

This wouldn't be the last time he tried and failed to interact with you. He was starting to realize he was no better than Levi! Levi, his annoying, otaku brother, had talked to you more than he ever had. And he seemed to be able to hold a conversation with you without his sin taking over!

It wasn't fair! He wanted to see your face when he sent a cute cat picture. He wanted to hear your laugh when you thought something he said was funny. He wanted to see the empathy in your eyes when you told him it was okay, and that he wasn't his sin. The confidence in your expression, when you said that he could learn to control his wrath one day.

He'd blown up on his "brothers" again, and had left the House of Lamentation, deciding to sit in the gazebo by the pond, staring at the stars, and clenching his fists so tightly that his talons drew blood.

He heard someone walking up behind him, and felt them sit on the bench next to him.

He didn't have to look up to know it was you.

"Go away!"

You didn't say anything, just sat there. He saw you shift out of the corner of his eye, and then felt his phone vibrate with a new message from you. He ignored it. No point in hearing what you had to say.

You shifted again, and he flinched when you placed a hand on top of one of his clenched fists.

It took him a moment to realize his cheeks had grown wet, and he was trembling. You thankfully didn't mention it, just sat with him as he processed his feelings.

You were so gentle. So kind. Better than any angel, or Celestial Realm could ever be.

….

Your head rested in his lap, and he offhandedly stroked your hair as you read together in his private library.

"Satan?" you hummed, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Mhmm?"

"Mammon was telling me about the couple of centuries after you were born."

He groaned, and you giggled.

"Sounds like you were a bit of a trouble maker."

"Were?" He snickered, tickling your side, and causing you to snort.

"You know what I mean, you ass," you groaned, swatting his hand away. 

"So I was curious, how did you learn to cope with your sin? Like, the other brothers were angels, so in theory they should have had the tools to overcome, but it kind of sounds like you were on your own…"

Your trailed off at the end, voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

"We used to have this attendant," he said, trying hard to bring the memories to the surface after years of disuse. "I don't know what happened to them, they probably got eaten or something, but they were a unique demon, and when I was in a particularly bad fit, they would come sit with me. Their strength gave me strength."

He hummed to himself. "It's been a while since I've thought about that, actually. But without them lending me their peace, I never would have found my own."

"Sounds like they were important to you," you hummed, nuzzling into him affectionately.

He wrapped his arms around you, before saying, "Yeah. I guess. But I have someone better now."

You laughed, before smiling up at him, "Still, I'm happy you had them, or I wouldn't have you now."

"Yeah, I guess not."

He wasn't sure if his brother's father could hear them in hell, but he sent up a quick thank you for the demon attendant for bringing him you.

....

Tag list- @leonia0 @eccedentesiast-sapphic @your-next-daydream

[maya-caffrey]

hi hi hi writing request if you're up for it: can i get a neal caffrey x reader where they're undercover posing as a couple and things get too real too quick? fluffy angsty whatever, full creative liberty. thank you x -🌻

anon i would love to

This ain't the Chelsea hotel

pairing: neal caffrey x fem!reader words: 4.3k song: I'm writing this inspired by ttpd as you can tell, specifically the lyric "At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger And put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding" summary: an undercover mission brings up some unresolved feelings a/n: this is sorta inspired by johnny and dora from Brooklyn 99, and there's sort of an angst ending i am sorry but it will get better soon i promise

"Neal and (Y/n), you’re going in as a couple.”

Peter’s voice was calm, authoritative, as if he’d just assigned them to file paperwork instead of infiltrating a high-society gala crawling with millionaires, con artists, and, somewhere in the crowd, an international art thief.

(Y/n) froze, mid-sip of her coffee. “I'm sorry, what now?”

Neal, of course, leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place. “I mean, it makes sense. Look at us—irresistible charm, devastating good looks—who wouldn’t buy it?”

“You forgot insufferable ego,” she shot back, slamming her cup on the table. It was aggravating to be around Neal Caffrey, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love every second of it.

Peter held up a hand, cutting off the argument before it could spiral. “Enough. You’re the best fit for this assignment. The mark likes power couples, people who look like they’ve got secrets. Neal’s the smooth-talking art expert, and (Y/n)—you’ll play his fiancée, a curator from an old-money family.”

(Y/n) groaned, glaring at Peter. “You know this is going to go to his head.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter said dryly. “But you’ll manage. You always do.”

Neal turned to her, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you.”

"That's okay baby, I can handle you." No, she can't. This could end badly.

"Oooh, competition? you're gonna lose, you, know?"

"Hey, if I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me, Caffrey."

"Right, and one last thing. (Y/n), try not to fall in love with me."

"Won't be a problem."

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

"And you're promising, that this is strictly work?"

"I swear, Moz! It's not like that," Neal replied, pacing the length of his apartment, the small box in his hand feeling heavier than it had any right to.

"It's hard to believe that when you're holding a real diamond ring in your hand," Mozzie argued, incredulous about Neal's intentions in this case.

"It's for authenticity"

"Right, because the suspect would definitely notice if she wore a cheap American zirconia."

"Mozzie. It's not like that."

"I believe you"

"I don't think you do."

Mozzie didn’t respond, simply giving Neal a pointed look before taking a long sip of his wine.

Neal let out a sigh, his grip on the box tightening. He was done trying to convince Mozzie, who always had a knack for cutting to the heart of things Neal would rather not think about. Because as much as he repeated the words it was just for the case, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

His gaze dropped to the ring, the glint of the diamond catching the light. It was just for authenticity. No ulterior motives.

Right?

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

"Alright. The moment we enter that room we're on high alert. Peter and the team are in the surveillance van two blacks away to remain inconspicuous. He's usually after wealthy power couple types so we need to be really convincing. Got it?"

“Uh-huh. Yes,” Neal replied, nodding a little too quickly. His words were automatic, half-hearted at best, because his attention was decidedly elsewhere.

She looked stunning—more than stunning, really, though he would never admit it outright. The soft glint in her eyes caught the streetlights at just the right angle, making them sparkle for a fleeting moment before fading again. The dress she wore was elegant, understated, but perfectly fitted to the role they were about to play. Neal found himself momentarily mesmerized, the lines between the act and reality blurring just a bit more than they should have.

(Y/n) shot him a suspicious glance. “Neal. Focus.”

“Totally focused,” he said, his trademark grin sliding into place to cover the fact that he had absolutely not been paying attention to anything she’d just said.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but after a beat, she turned back toward the building looming ahead. “You’d better be. The second we step into that gala, we’re in character, and I’m not carrying this assignment on my own.”

“Of course not,” Neal quipped, following her lead, his voice taking on the smooth confidence he wore so well. “I’ll be the perfect fiancé. You’ll swoon. Just wait.”

She shook her head in surrender and walked towards the door before she felt a delicate hand pull at her wrist.

"Wait, I almost forgot," he said, taking out the velvet box that made his pocket weigh heavier than it should have.

"What?" she asked, completely oblivious.

"This," he said, flipping it open to reveal the princess-cut diamond ring inside. The sharp sparkle caught the light between them, but it was nothing compared to the flash of surprise in her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

He swallowed, his heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears as he took her left hand in his, the warmth of her skin making him falter for just a moment. His fingers brushed hers, gentle but deliberate, as he slid the ring onto her finger.

No break in eye contact.

Her gaze locked with his, questioning, searching, unsteady. The seconds stretched long, heavy with something unspoken, as his thumb brushed against the band, settling it into place.

Still no break.

The moment lingered, charged, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them under the streetlight. His breath hitched, his confidence—usually so bulletproof—wavering under the weight of how utterly real this felt.

Neal shifted, suddenly nervous, but he didn’t step back. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back up to meet hers again, the line between fiction and reality blurring with dizzying speed.

Finally, he broke the silence with a soft, almost uncertain laugh, a hint of tension bleeding into his words. “For authenticity, right?”

(Y/n) blinked, the spell broken. Her lips curved into a small smile, but her voice was quieter than usual when she replied. “Right. Authenticity.”

But neither of them moved for a moment longer, caught in the fallout of something they couldn’t quite name. If this was just pretend, why did it feel so real?

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

They entered the grand ballroom arm-in-arm, the weight of their roles pressing against them. Neal’s hand rested lightly at the small of (Y/n)’s back, his touch electric even through the layers of fabric.

“You’re tense,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her eyes and let it linger before remembering she had to respond.

“You try wearing a dress and pretending to be in love with you all evening,” she shot back, her voice sweetened by a practiced smile for the benefit of their audience.

Neal leaned closer, the humor in his tone giving way to something deeper. “You’d be surprised how easy that could be.”

"The dress or-"

"The last part. Obviously the last part."

"Just making sure," she responded, stifling a laugh. Remembering why they were here in the first place, she quickly scanned the room, she found their mark in the middle of the dance floor.

"Neal, 2'o clock, dance floor."

"Yeah, I see him. You ready?"

"Do, I have an option?"

Neal extended his hand, a devilish glint in his eyes as he slipped seamlessly into his role. “In that case, (Y/n), may I have this dance?”

(Y/n) smirked just for a moment, his outstretched hand a reminder of the precarious game they were playing. She placed her hand in his, his fingers warm and steady as they led her toward the dance floor. “Let’s get ourselves a criminal,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

The music swelled, slow and haunting, wrapping around them as Neal’s hand slid to her waist. His fingers pressed against the fabric of her dress, firm but careful, like he was afraid to break something fragile. His other hand cradled hers, his thumb brushing the back of her hand with maddening lightness.

“You’re holding on a little tight there, don’t you think?” she teased softly, her voice catching when his eyes locked on hers, warm and unflinching.

“Just making sure you don’t get away,” he replied, his words playful, but his tone laced with something heavier.

They moved in sync, the world around them dimming until it felt like the music existed just for them. Each step brought her closer, the space between them dissolving until her chest almost brushed against his. His breath was warm against her temple, and her head tilted slightly, just enough for her to catch the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“It’s just part of the job,” she whispered back, though her words wavered under the intensity of his gaze.

“Right,” he said, his hand slipping a fraction lower on her waist. “Just the job.”

Her pulse quickened as his fingers tightened slightly, drawing her closer still. Their faces were mere inches apart now, his eyes flicking to her lips for the briefest of moments before returning to hers. The tension between them was almost unbearable, charged and unspoken.

(Y/n) swore he was about to say something—something real, something that would tip this balance they always stalled on—but his gaze shifted over her shoulder.

“(Y/n),” he said abruptly, his tone cooling as his eyes fixed on something behind her.

(Y/n) blinked, the spell breaking as she followed his line of sight. Their mark stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching them with quiet intensity.

“He’s noticed us,” Neal said, his hand loosening its hold on her waist.

“Good,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “That’s the idea.”

And just like that, they were back in the game, palpable tension vanishing into thin air.

As the song came to an end, the mark stepped toward them with his date, a woman dripping in diamonds and disdain.

“Charming performance,” the mark said smoothly, offering a practiced smile. “You two must be new faces around here.”

“Guilty as charged,” Neal said with a grin, slipping effortlessly into his persona. “We’ve just been admiring the company.”

“Why don’t you join us on the rooftop?” the mark offered, gesturing toward the glass doors that led to a private terrace. “It’s quieter. Easier to talk.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a quick glance before following. On the way, Neal caught her glancing at her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over the diamond ring he had slipped on earlier.

“Admiring your fiancé’s taste, sweetheart?” he teased under his breath, his voice tinged with both humor and something sharper.

(Y/n) jerked her gaze away, her cheeks warming. “Just making sure it looks convincing,” she muttered, but the way her hand lingered over the ring betrayed her words.

Neal leaned closer, his smirk softening. “It looks perfect. You look perfect.”

The heat in her cheeks deepened, but before she could respond, the doors opened, and the crisp night air swept over them. They stepped onto the terrace, the stakes of their mission suddenly more palpable than ever.

The mark led them to a table on the edge of the terrace, a private spot where the city lights shimmered below. He took a seat, his date following suit, and Neal and (Y/n) joined them. The air was cool, and the tension in the space was almost tangible. The mark’s eyes flicked between them, his gaze assessing, calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth, “tell me, how did you two meet? I’m always curious about these stories."

Neal leaned back in his chair, putting on his best charming smile. “It was one of those chance encounters, really,” he began. “I was at an auction, looking at some early Renaissance pieces when she walked in—just like that.” He snapped his fingers, his eyes glinting. “She had this aura about her—class, confidence, and this fire in her eyes that made me want to get to know her. I knew the moment I saw her, I’d never let her slip through my fingers.

Y/n) raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by how smooth he was. “Not exactly how I remember it,” she replied, her tone light but sharp. “He was chasing after a piece of art that had already been sold. I caught him, and after some back-and-forth, we ended up negotiating a deal. And well, the rest, as they say, is history.”

The mark chuckled, intrigued. “So, love at first sight then?”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, both knowing that this was the moment they had to sell it. Neal leaned forward, his voice dropping a notch as he spoke to the mark.

“There’s something about her. Something that keeps me coming back, you know?” he said, his eyes never leaving (Y/n)'s face. “She’s strong, sharp—doesn’t take crap from anyone. And that’s something you don’t find every day.”

(Y/n) turned toward him, her heart beating a little faster at the raw honesty in his words. She wasn’t sure if it was part of the act or something real underneath it, but the heat between them flickered for a second.

“And what do you see in him?” the mark asked, his tone now laced with genuine curiosity.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer without giving away too much of her own feelings, but when she looked into Neal’s eyes, something clicked. They were here together, playing a part in a dangerous game, but the way he was looking at her made her forget that for a second. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the vulnerability he was letting slip, just for her.

“I see someone who challenges me,” she replied, her voice softer than usual. “Someone who pushes me to be better. And, you know, someone who’s got this charm that… well, it works on me. I’m not proud of it.”

Neal’s grin spread, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “Works on me too,” he said, his voice lower now, as if the words were meant for her alone. “We balance each other out. When I'm with her, I feel complete, you know?”

The mark seemed satisfied with their answers, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You two really are a convincing pair. Almost makes me believe in the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing," he laughed. His date, lost in her phone, barely seemed to notice, leaving the moment to hang between them.

Neal glanced at (Y/n), an almost imperceptible shift in his expression as he studied her. There was something different in the way she held herself tonight. She was usually the composed one, but now… he couldn’t quite read the look in her eyes.

“So, what happens next?” the mark asked, his voice smooth, as he leaned back in his chair.

Neal tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “Now? Now we enjoy the view.” He gestured out toward the city lights that sparkled beneath them, a million possibilities flashing in the distance. “What’s a good evening without a little bit of beauty to go with it?”

(Y/n) nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her wine glass absently. “And a little danger, I’d say,” she added, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

The mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Danger, huh? What’s dangerous about a couple like you two?”

Neal chuckled, but it was a touch colder this time, more calculated. He turned his eyes on (Y/n), watching the way she tilted her head, as if she was on the edge of saying something important. Then, with a glance that felt almost too intimate, he spoke again. “We’ve got a history, you know? We don’t talk about it much, but we both know... some things you don’t just walk away from.”

(Y/n) blinked, her breath catching at his words. She hadn’t expected him to go that far with the act. The sincerity behind it—whether it was all for the mission or something more—hit her unexpectedly. But she kept her face neutral, answering with equal weight. “Yeah. Some things... they follow you.”

The air between them thickened, the words hanging heavy in the space. The mark watched them, an unreadable expression on his face as he exchanged glances with his date. It wasn’t quite suspicion, but something deeper. Curiosity, maybe. Or recognition. But before anything could be said, the mark stood, taking a step toward the edge of the terrace.

“You two are something else,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to grab another drink. You stay here.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, one that said everything without needing words. As soon as the mark and his date were distracted by the bar, they slipped away. It wasn’t much—just enough of a gap for them to make their move. They walked quickly, low and quiet, blending into the flow of people.

They passed a row of velvet curtains and slipped behind them, into a hallway that led to the back stairwell. The sound of voices echoed from the main room, but it was the sound of a briefcase being handed over that caught Neal’s attention.

There he was—the mark, shaking hands with someone in a dark suit. The transaction was swift, almost too clean. Neal’s eyes narrowed.

“Something’s off,” he whispered to (Y/n), barely audible.

But before they could pull back into the shadows, a shift in the mark’s posture had him looking their way. Neal froze, his gaze locking with the mark’s. There was a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes, followed by a narrowing of his gaze.

In that moment, they both knew they had been spotted.

Neal didn’t hesitate. He grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist, pulling her in close. “Trust me on this,” he muttered, his breath warm against her ear.

Before she could even respond, his lips found hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was urgent—desperate, even, and as their bodies pressed closer, the danger of being caught only made it more intense. Their kiss was a cover, an act. But damn, it felt real. The mark was approaching them now, too close for comfort, but Neal barely registered the thought. He pushed her against the nearest wall and "got carried away" as he traveled towards her neck. Her hands found his hair, gently playing with them, for the act, of course.

(Y/n)’s heart raced as the world around them seemed to blur. They were acting, but in that moment, there was a sense of something more—something raw beneath the surface. He left her neck and locked her yes in a gaze, before returning back to her lips. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and when Neal pulled away, her lips felt like they were still burning from the kiss.

The mark was now standing just a few feet away, his brow furrowed in confusion but not yet suspicious enough to call them out. Neal, ever the charmer, quickly recovered, a half-smile spreading across his face.

“Sorry,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Got carried away. But you know how it is, right?” He gestured to (Y/n), his hand slipping possessively around her waist as he spoke directly to the mark, hoping his calm demeanor would sell the story.

The mark studied them for a beat, a silent assessment passing between them. Finally, he shook his head, smirking. “You two really are something else, huh.”

Neal’s grin stretched wider, eyes flicking to (Y/n) for just a moment, as if to say: We’re good.

They turned, following the mark back into the chaos of the night, but the weight of what just happened settled between them—unspoken, but palpable.

The sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the terrace as the FBI moved in, swarming around them with practiced efficiency. Neal felt the brief rush of adrenaline still pumping in his veins, but now it was mixed with something else. He and (Y/n) had done their job, the mark had fallen into their trap, and the briefcase—the one they’d been waiting for—was in his hands, a key piece of evidence that sealed the deal.

But then, there was that kiss.

It had been... unexpected. Real. No longer just an act.

The team moved quickly, surrounding the mark, taking him into custody. Peter gave Neal a brief, knowing nod before he led the mark away. He didn’t say anything; the job was done. The mission was complete. But Neal’s mind wasn’t on the bust. He was focused on (Y/n), the way her breath had caught when their lips met, the look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

Once the area had cleared and the sound of distant voices faded, he turned to her. (Y/n) was leaning against the railing, her arms crossed tightly as she stared out over the city, the glow of the streetlights flickering in the distance. There was a cold distance in her posture that wasn’t there before, a wall he hadn’t seen her put up.

Neal swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “(Y/n)...”

She didn’t look at him right away. When she did, her gaze was unreadable. “We did our job, Neal. That’s what matters.”

There was a tightness in her voice, the way she was shutting down again, retreating behind the walls she always kept so perfectly in place. It made his chest tighten.

“I know,” Neal replied, his voice softer. “But that kiss…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He was a conman, a man who lived in deception. But that kiss—that had felt different.

(Y/n) sighed, pushing herself off the railing and turning to face him fully. “It’s part of the job, Neal. You know that. It’s always part of the job.”

Her words were clipped, but her eyes betrayed her. They were too wide, too vulnerable, like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing him. Neal didn’t buy it. Not this time.

“Is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Because that didn’t feel like part of the job to me. It felt like—” He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “Like something real.”

Her expression flickered, just for a moment, like she was considering telling him something—something more than what she was letting on. But she quickly masked it, her gaze hardening again.

“It wasn’t real, Neal,” she said, her voice sharp, like the edge of a blade. “It was a job. You know that.”

Neal’s breath hitched. “But what if it was? What if it wasn’t just the mission? What if we’re both—” He cut himself off, staring at her, his chest suddenly tight with a feeling he couldn’t quite shake. “Look, I don’t want to make this more complicated than it has to be. But I can’t just act like that kiss was nothing. I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something.”

(Y/n) took a step back, her jaw clenched, clearly struggling with something she wasn’t ready to face. “You’re just confused, Neal,” she said, her words laced with frustration. “We’re good at what we do. We can sell this. We can sell anything. But that kiss? It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

Neal shook his head, his frustration matching hers. “Why do I feel like you’re trying so hard to convince me of that?”

She stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his. There was no hiding now. “Because I don’t need you to start thinking that this is something more than it is,” she said, her voice shaking just a little. “I don’t need to feel like I’m... I’m letting you in. I don’t want that. We can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Neal asked, his voice quieter now, softer. “Why can’t we have that?”

For a moment, (Y/n) didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, as if trying to find the words to explain something she couldn’t. She wanted to—he could see it in her eyes—but something held her back, something she was afraid to admit.

“Because I can’t,” she finally said, her voice trembling with something raw, something real. “Because I can’t let you in, Neal. I can’t let myself... care. I’ve spent too long keeping everything at arm's length. It’s easier that way. It’s safer that way.”

Neal felt his heart twist. He had no answers, no solutions. He couldn’t fix this. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

But as the silence stretched between them, he couldn’t just let it go. “So, what happens now?” he asked quietly. “Do we just go back to being... partners? Nothing more, nothing less?”

(Y/n) looked away, biting her lip as she thought it over. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I don’t know if we can just go back to what we were before. But we have to try.”

Neal didn’t argue. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake. Too much left unsaid.

“I don’t think either of us can walk away from this without something changing,” he said, the words coming out as more of a confession than a statement.

Her eyes flickered to his again, softer now. “Maybe that’s true,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t mean we can act on it.”

Neal took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, (Y/n). But I don’t think I can just pretend it’s nothing anymore.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes one last time. “Neither can I,” she said quietly, as she took off her ring and placed it in his hand.

And then, before either of them could say more, Peter’s voice echoed from behind them, sharp and thunder-like.

“Jesus Christ, what happened in this mission?” Peter inquired, leaning against the doorframe, clearly amused.

Neal shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. Peter was just being Peter. But as the moment lingered, both Neal and (Y/n) knew the truth. They had crossed a line. They’d let the job get too close. And now, whatever happened next… they couldn’t go back to pretending it was just a mission anymore.

a/n: I hope you liked it, this was my first request so I got carried away T_T, I'll make a part 2 for closure if this does well <3

[chaifootsteps]

I have so many conflicting ideas about Hazbin/Helluva, where I can't ever join the hate watching crowd because I still, to an extent, enjoy the show if only for its potential. The most recent music video kind of cemented this for me, because... I really liked it. I don't want to feel bad for liking it, because that's silly and separating art from the artist is indeed a thing, but knowing what goes on behind the scenes... it's a bit tricky to reconcile with.

Stolas' songs (You'll be Okay, Owl in a Cage, Look my Way - even though that last one wasn't written by Sam Haft) have always been my favourites, and if I'm being frank, the only ones I've liked. I really like his character design too. Even now I'm uncertain about admitting that because so many people who send in asks to you rag on about how ugly Viv's character designs are, and while I do think they're confusing and impractical I have never considered them "ugly". Maybe I'm writing this so if anyone else feels this way they don't feel so alone? Not being a part of any sort of crowd is a bit of a terrifying place, even if it is ultimately a good thing.

I have ideas for possible Helluva and Hazbin fanworks but I'm scared to do anything about them because, with the creepy adolesent mob mentality the fandom seems to have, I'm afraid I would look as though I'm promoting the show, when I really just got inspired by, again, the potential. I don't want to write out a whole long explanation (that no-one will read) detailing my thoughts on the series and Viv because I might get taken the wrong way, and saying zilch and staying silent seems like the best option and yet also just as poor of a choice.

On a final note, and this is just whishful thinking of a better universe, but I think Hazbin and Helluva would have been a lot more successful and potentially less controversial if it had done the same thing as Daria Cohen, where each "episode" was a music video (because I honestly got more whole enjoyment out of the Look My Way animation than I have out of like, the whole of Season 2), and the whole entire thing could have been told through song (allowing for the more abstract imagery that Viv seems to have a better grasp of while also keeping the projects possibly more manageable). Obviously this would demote it purely to a passion project because she wouldn't be making nearly as much money off of it... which, when you think about it, is probably a good thing anyway.

Sorry for the length!

You don't have to apologize for a thing, Anon! As long as you're not giving her money or making weird excuses for Vivzie herself or named DaniDraws, there's no wrong way to love HH/HB. It's why for every ask I get trashing the designs, two more want to hug these characters close and steal them. We've got people here who hate it all and think it's always been a port-o-toilet fire full of ugly characters, but plenty who genuinely love it -- and I think as more of the fandom sadly hang their heads and come over to the critical side, that number's only going to increase.

Seconding the Daria Cohen bit. I don't know that it would have saved the show in the long run from its biggest problem, which is Viv's cruelty and ego, but a more Vampair or Mystery Skulls Animated-esque setup where each episode is a music video would have played to Viv's strengths and masked her weaknesses.

[novelmonger]

1-4 & 10-12 for The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep, 9-15 for FMA, 1 & 16-18 for Anne of Green Gables, 8-12 for Half-Magic, and 1, 3, 19, and 20 for The Little Riders, please?

The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep by H.G. Parry

what got you into this story?

My dear friend @rainintheevening recommended it to me, and I'm so glad she did! I wasn't even 20 pages in before I looked up from the page and went, "Ohoho, this book was definitely written for me!"

2. describe it in one or two sentences.

Charley Sutherland has always had the ability to read characters out of books and into real life. But when Uriah Heep, the villain from David Copperfield, begins to cause trouble, his older brother (who is perfectly ordinary in every way) will have to go to great lengths to help him out of his predicament.

3. quickly list 3 things you like about the story!

IT'S ABOUT BROTHERS

IT'S A BOOK ABOUT BOOKS

It started to look like the ending was going to be tragic, BUT IT WASN'T I CRYYYYYYYYYY T^T

4. assign this story a hyper-specific genre name, e.g. "inspirational religious semi-horror sci-fi western" (yes, that's Trigun)

Speculative literary brother fiction crossover thriller

10. if you made an amv about this, what song would you set it to?

"Brother" by Kodaline

I mean, would you look at these lyrics?

Oh brother, we'll go deeper than the ink Beneath the skin of our tattoos Though we don't share the same blood You're my brother and I love you that's the truth

;aldksj;sdkfl;sdkfldslkfj TT___TT

11. if you were put in the main character's position, how well would that go for you on a scale of 1-5?

Umm...maybe like a 4? Rob is a very normal kind of guy, and while I'm not a lawyer like him, most of the things he does are fairly ordinary, all things considered. (Well, it's not an ordinary situation at all, but I mean he doesn't have hidden magic or anything.) There's nothing particularly special about him except the lengths he's willing to go to for his brother. And I'd like to think I would do the same for my siblings if need be.

12. assuming your loved ones would be there, would you want to live in the world of the story?

YES. A world where I could potentially meet my favorite characters from beloved stories? Yeah, okay, some of the more unsavory characters show up too, but...like...I could have tea with Dumbledore. I could share crunchings and munchings with Gurgi. I could hang out with Pippi Longstocking! Maybe I could even give Kaladin Stormblessed a hug :')

Full Metal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa

9. give the most UNHELPFUL and/or SILLY summary possible.

A fake human uses a double amputee, a tin can, a war criminal, a butcher, and some old guy to try to become God. He fails because he didn't brush up on meteorology enough.

10. if you made an amv about this, what song would you set it to?

Funny you should ask, because I've got several ideas floating around in my head that I could actually make a reality if I just sat down and took the time! The first AMV idea I ever got, years and years ago, was one set to "Memories" by Within Temptation.

11. if you were put in the main character's position, how well would that go for you on a scale of 1-5?

Lol. 1. I would die immediately. I don't have a head for numbers or science, so I would probably be horrible at alchemy. Even if I somehow got clap-alchemy from the Truth (though how I'd be able to manage human transmutation to get that far is anyone's guess), I would fail miserably to do the things Ed does, because I am very flabby and weak and cowardly. Also I don't think I would have the gumption to do half the things he does, like pushing through the pain of automail surgery. Yeah, sorry, the world is doomed if I'm put in Ed's place.

12. assuming your loved ones would be there, would you want to live in the world of the story?

As much as I adore this story, I think I'd actually say no. There's so much danger and war on every side, and I don't much fancy the thought of losing my soul to a whirling vortex (even if my soul does get put back!). I've already laid out how I wouldn't be an alchemist, so there wouldn't even be that to compensate. Maybe I'd visit after it's no longer a fascist military state, though.

13. tell me an out-of-context piece of worldbuilding or lore!

Did you know that Amestris was the wife of Artaxerxes, king of Persia?

14. how likely do you think this story is to break a reader's heart? If you're not done with the story, just guess.

I'm biased, but I think it's pretty much guaranteed. If your heart doesn't break at least a little bit at a certain little girl and her dog, I'm not sure you have one. And there are so many other parts where I cried really hard, not least at the ending of the first anime. All I wanted to do after I finished it the first time was lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how to carry on with my life ^^'

15. what time are you most likely to be found reading/watching this story? (time of year, time of day, season of life, whatever makes sense to you)

ALL DAY ALL THE TIME.

Lol, that would have been my answer in my teenage years, but admittedly my attention has strayed to other fandoms more recently. I'm still down to read/watch FMA anytime at the drop of a hat, but these days I'm most likely to dip back into it this time of year, because I always try to have something to post for FMA Day on October 3rd. (Which reminds me, I need to get cracking on that D:)

Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery

what got you into this story?

I guess you could call it peer pressure, kinda? I just kept hearing people praising it over the years, until finally I decided I should probably see what all the fuss was about, rather than just writing it off as Not For Me because I decided that back when I was eight or something. And once I did start reading, it didn't take long for Anne to win me over ^_^

16. do you think this story has broad appeal, or is it meant for a very specific audience? if it's more "niche", what kind of person would most enjoy this story?

I do think it has broad appeal, though I'd still say it's not for everybody. Clearly, Baby Novie decided it wasn't for her because there wasn't enough high adventure in it. I think most people would be able to find something relatable or at least enjoyable about it, but some people might need to wait until they're mature enough to appreciate its merits ;)

17. compare this story to your usual tastes. how does it differ from what you've already enjoyed?

I usually prefer books with more fantastical elements in them, or at least adventuring, and that was especially true when I tried to read this book as a kid. I will certainly read the occasional historical fiction about ordinary, everyday ups and downs, but even so, I'm usually more inclined to reach for something like Austen or Dickens that has a more complicated, twisty-turny plot.

18. compare this story to your usual tastes. what parts of it are exactly the kind of thing you've always loved?

I'm actually kind of surprised this was never assigned for school, because it feels a lot like the kind of book I read a lot, and probably one I would have enjoyed more than some of the other stuff we had to read. If I'd only made the connection that it takes place around the same time as the Mandie books, I probably would have really latched onto it (even though Anne isn't about mysteries), because that was my bread and butter for several years as a kid. And Anne of Green Gables would have been much less embarrassing to return to as an adult ^^' Another element that is common to many stories I love is how friendship is treasured so highly.

Half Magic by Edward Eager

8. what questions are or were you most excited to learn the answers to while experiencing the story for the first time?

Oh man, it's been so long since the first time I read this book, I can't really remember. Especially because I was never really an "active reader" as a kid. I never stopped to ask questions, I just inhaled stories, and whatever happened in it, that was how it obviously had to be ^^' And by now, I've read the book so many times I know it back to front, and there aren't really any more questions that I care about.

At a guess, though, I might have wondered where the talisman came from and where I could get one :P

9. give the most UNHELPFUL and/or SILLY summary possible.

This book teaches you about fractions :)

10. if you made an amv about this, what song would you set it to?

Uhhhh...I really don't know. Probably some kind of instrumental track, maybe piano? And it would just be a montage of the whole story, I think.

11. if you were put in the main character's position, how well would that go for you on a scale of 1-5?

I'd say a 4 or a 5. I'd like to think I'd do pretty well at remembering not to say "I wish" out loud as much as they do, but that's never how these things go. But most of the times I say that, it's usually just things like "I wish I could remember..." or "I wish I knew why..." And I don't see how the consequences of that kind of accidental wish could be too dire XD

12. assuming your loved ones would be there, would you want to live in the world of the story?

A THOUSAND TIMES YES. How many times did I daydream about what my siblings and I would do if we got a wish-granting adventure like in the books? It might be a little annoying to have to put up with 1920s America or whenever it's supposed to be, but...wish-granting talisman. Come on.

The Little Riders by Margaretha Shemin

what got you into this story?

This was assigned for school. I don't remember when exactly that was, but I think it was a read-aloud rather than one I read to myself, so maybe first or second grade? And I just remember it being one of the books that stood out to me amongst all the others.

3. quickly list 3 things you like about the story!

It offers a unique perspective on WWII, humanizing the Nazi soldiers when most of the time, we're all content to just think of them as nothing but monsters.

It's tense and exciting - will the soldier find the little riders?!

Illustrated by Peter Spier, a staple of my childhood picture books!

19. pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

What about a parallel story about the soldier's family? What was their experience like during the war?

20. what's the WORST thing about this story, in your opinion? (feel free to be positive, e.g. "it's not longer", if you want!)

Okay, yes, I could definitely do with a longer version of this book. I would have liked more exploration of Johanna's experience of being an American girl growing up in Holland with her grandparents. Did she have culture shock at first? Does she feel more at home in Holland now? For the lack of exploration they do into her unique situation, I almost think it would have been better to just have her be a Dutch girl who's lived in Holland all her life. The extra details of her father being in the U.S. Navy kind of feels superfluous.

Story Ask Game

[thegeminisage]

oh boy IT'S tng update time. last night* we watched "imaginary friend" and "i, borg."

*tonight. it's 1am. whatever. it's posting tomorrow when i'll be awake but busy. anyway im gonna have to start splitting these up so tumblr will stop FUCKING me re my character count

imaginary friend:

what i like about this episode and indeed tng as a whole is that the little girl was fucking adorable. tng fans, your show has at least one point of validity. whenever there was a child on tos i wanted to throw them out of the airlock because they acted possessed. all the children on tng inspire within me motherly concern.

HOWEVER. THERE SHOULD NOT BE. CHILDREN ON A STARSHIP.

we've gone over this at length. we don't need to do it again. i am sick to death of hearing myself talk about it. i want to stop. and yet. every. and i mean EVERY. SINGLE. PROBLEM. in this episode. happened because there were children on a starship.

problem #1: child is making up a fake imaginary friend instead of making real ones = it's because her dad hops from starship to starship

problem #2 her imaginary friend is real now and wants to drown her in the pool like in that one episode of s*pernatural = this is because an alien, from space, read her mind, which it could not have done if she wasn't in space on a starship

problem #3: the alien HATES the grownups and thinks they should die = because she is seeing the ship from a child's pov, because there are children on this starship

and on and on and on.

aside from this huge and ongoing point of contention it was solidly watchable. i liked the little girl. i like guinan. i like worf being a big old softie when he found them out of bounds. i like people not undermining deanna's counseling work. i liked the horrifically unsettling imaginary friend with laser eyes who definitely absolutely inspired 2.11 playthings.

can anyone tell me if the other star trek shows just let them have kids on the ships? ds9 i get because that's a space station but are there kids on the ship in enterprise? voyager? discovery? genuinely please write in i can't take living like this

i, borg:

ooooooh. ooh i am twirling my hair and kicking my feet and giggling about it. OHHH finally we get a good tng episode. and not just a good episode a GREAT episode. the liz community has forgiven tng. oh baby where do i even begin

okay, firstly, beverly. she so instantly sees someone injured and HAS to help, i mean HAS to, it's so good. it's very bonescore in a way that doesn't feel like they're trying to make her a cheap bones knockoff but rather a spiritual successor. he would have also helped his enemy rather than watching him die. hell, he DID do that and got quite literally mind-raped for his trouble, and he'd probably do it again. i was really really lukewarm on poor bev at first but she's come into her own so well and i'm proud of her

the borg himself - third of five, aw, just like seven of nine - but no, hugh - the name is dumb but whatever i'm glad he has one - was well-cast. it would have been easy to make him uncanny and an unpleasant presence onscreen (this was my biggest issue with data's daughter even though the ep DID make me cry, deeply sorry to data whomst i love the most). his "you will be assimilated resistance is futile" song and dance was actually really funny when played off of geordi's wry indifference. "ok, but before we get assimilated, can we please finish x test?" so true king

geordi's a natural choice to pair with this guy because when he's not being the creepiest person on earth to holodeck girls he's sociable, outgoing, and patient. PLUS he has experience befriending machines because of data. hugh actually reminded me of data in some ways because of his general lack of understanding re: humanity but - and this is critical to me - HE IS HUMAN

like, i feel like the episode didn't quite nail the point home hard enough possibly because they were afraid of the implications but the cold hard truth of the matter is that each and every person on the borg cube IS A PERSON. they have been assimilated, but we've twice now seen that it's possible to unassimilate them with only a few days of effort. picard (and guinan!) consider the entire collective their enemy but the collective is comprised of brainwashed prisoners. those fucked up little borg babies they found in the cube were assimilated as INFANTS - i assume they weren't born on the cube bc if the borg could reproduce on its own it wouldn't need to assimilate - but even if they were born on the cube, they had no choice but to be this. you know.

which is whyyyy it's so fucked picard was like yeah give hugh some digital poison let him carry it back to his cube and we'll kill them like ants <3 like, oh my god his lingering borg trauma or whatever. MWAH. when he told deanna he didn't wanna talk. when he and guinan had to trauma-bond while fencing. when he told geordi that he needed to unattach himself because it was nothing more than animal experimentation. STONE FUCKING COLD BY THE WAY. he is fighting in the war on animal experimentation on the side of animal experimentation. he was going to let his cre heal and feed that kid and then send him back laced with poison. diabolical <3

and, of course, when he didn't want to speak or associate that borg kid at all because that's who he used to be AND WHO HE STILL IS in some corner of his brain (!!!)

LIKE. WHEN HE WAS FINALLY CONVINCED TO INTERROGATE THIS KID. and IMMEDIATELY broke out the locutus voice. he still remembered all the protocol! the way of speaking! everything! i was so shocked and thrilled.

i love also how everyone who spoke to hugh came away extremely unsettled but also totally convinced of his humanity. even guinan, which was so fun, because she was even more anti-borg than picard at first and they were bonding over trauma and fantasy racism. that bit where hugh, who had only known about the concept of loneliness for like an hour, immediately pegged her as lonely after like three lines of dialogue. oh my GOD???

i was decently satisfied with the ending - obviously they couldn't send him back with poison nor could they protect him from the borg, but i wish they had informed him of the inevitable memory wipe before he made his choice. (a selfless choice! he loves geordi!!) still i think he mostly walked into it with eyes open. very sad but very proud of him.

my one tiny nitpick with this episode is that for all beverly's genuine and justified concern about hugh, i don't think theyre ever gonna address the fact that she shot and possibly killed some of the borg in the episode where picard got assimilated. i feel like after realizing they are all people, like hugh, she should also realize she's broken the hippocratic oath, and have a little crisis about it. i have no idea why we had the DOCTOR shooting and killing anybody but let alone if we aren't gonna get into that. i don't think anyone cares/cared except me though.

but tbh, for me this is one of the main draws of the borg. they're ALL brainwashed cyber-assassins and they're ALL prisoners and in theory ALL of them could be saved if only they would stop attacking first. sure, yeah, in fights you gotta do what you gotta do because your own life has gotta come first, but the unique scifi horror aspect of all of those guys being perfectly innocent people fucks and they should utilize it a little more!!!

NEXT TIME: "the next phase" and "the inner light."

[justhere4kpop]

Only

Idol!Seonghwa x Reader

You come back from Vacation with your partner and as you're setting the home back up, he comes to a realization.

w/c: 1103 (I know it's short I'm sorry!!!!)

taglist: @hwaightme <3 &lt;3, @starillusion13, @yunbug

a/n: Finally! A Hwa-ne shot! Forgive me for the length! I love this one it's very very very fluffy, like practically tooth-rotting, I'm proud of it though. Inspiration for this is from me being super busy yesterday doing basic things and Only by LeeHi coming on, great song, mentioned probably a few times here. Hope you enjoy it!!!

Masterlist

~-~-~-~-~

“Darling.” came his gentle voice. “We’re back home” he nudged me lightly softly waking me.

“Hmm?” I murmured returning to the real world from my light dreamscape.

“We’re home.” he smiled gently as I turned to look at him.

“Hello.” I smiled.

“Hello love.”

“You were in my dream.”

“Oh? Mind telling me what happened?”

“The usual, you were holding my hand as we were talking about our lives.”

“Old and married on the front porch? Just like you wanted?”

“Yes, you told me I about how radiant I looked in my wedding dress.”

“I’m sure you look stunning, I probably cried.”

“Oh you wouldn’t cry.”

“I would over you my dear.” he picked my hand up and kissed it. “Ready to return to normal life?”

“I guess so.” I chuckled and stretched slightly before getting out of the car. “I suppose we should start with laundry, then probably decide on dinner, I’m sure we need to straighten up, we certainly didn’t have time before we left…at least we took the trash out….probably need to clean out the fridge, make a grocery list. You know…the usual.”

“The usual.” he chuckled.

Everything felt good to start, he started cleaning out the fridge while I took the luggage and went to start on the laundry, luckily we got in early enough in the day to feel like we can do things. Seonghwa and I have been together going on three years now, we’ve had a few rough patches sure, it’s natural to have differing opinions you’re two individual people. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, he’s my whole world. Out of every difference or argument or anything of the sort we manage it. We did break up for a while at one point because we were both too stressed out and it…you know when something needs it’s time, like a good egg in your ramen. We tried again and I have never been more grateful for how patient and attentive he is. He made me a playlist when we decided to try again and we named a star after him for his birthday. He makes me feel loved and warm and so so important. He’s my whole world.

“Hwa?”

“Hmm?” he looked up from scrubbing a shelf.

“Mind if I turn on music?” I was hanging up laundry outside on the balcony.

“Go ahead.” he chuckled.

“Hwa?”

“Yes darling?”

“I love you.” I smiled and turned around. He doesn’t always say it back but I know he always shows it, sometimes I don’t give him the chance to say it back either.

I would hum along here and there to some of the songs, it was a day for our slower playlist, full of emotional songs and some we’d slow dance in the kitchen to at 3am waiting for fried chicken. I started to clean out one of the cabinet looking at what we could eat for dinner, we had some rice ready to microwave and looked like some Spam.

“Hwa? Do we have eggs still?”

“Yes.”

“Gochujang?”

“A staple.” he chuckled.

“We could do rice bowls tonight, any other protein besides Spam?”

“None that smelled edible.”

“Damn.” I chuckled.

“You don’t have to cook dear.”

“I want to, it’ll be like a welcome home, besides I always cook after you come back from tour.”

“Yes but this was a vacation together.”

“I know, but it feels right.” I pecked his cheek. “Okay well we’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

We made a list of the most important things we need from the store to get our fridge not so barren and went to a convenience store just to pick up what we could, like drinks and snacks.

“Finally. Now we’re home for the evening.” I said putting up the groceries and humming to the song currently playing over the computer speakers. “I’ll cook right after this is put away and hang up the last of the laundry.”

ONLY by LeeHi started playing and I was finally hanging the laundry and heating up the pan for eggs and spam. Seonghwa had stood up and watched as the song played gently.

Be my only one

이제는 숨기지 않고도 말할 수 있어

그렇게나 말하고 싶던 I say I love you

“y/n.”

I turned since he sounded so serious.

“I Love You, darling.” his eyes sparkled with what could only be described as pure adoration in that moment. He looked at me as if I had hung the moon and stars in the sky just so we could look at them together, he made his way to me a bright smile on his face, placing his things on the counter to scoop me into his arms.

“I love you too Seonghwa….why are you acting like you haven’t seen me for months.”

“I’m sure for the first time in forever, that I don’t want to loose you again my love. I don’t tell you nearly enough how much I love you.”

“Oh you tell me every chance you get.” I chuckled and he brought himself to my lips, I could smell the slight vanilla black orchid fragrance he wears and I could feel his smile and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Marry me.” he whispered resting his forehead against my own.

“What?” I chuckled.

“Marry Me?” he said louder. “I don’t have it right now but I’m sure I want to spend every waking moment with you my dear, My Only Love. Marry Me?”

“Of course idiot.” I said now feeling tears roll down my face, I really wasn’t expecting to get proposed to today.

“I Love You.” he smiled and kissed me again.

~18 Months Later~

“I couldn’t imagine a better first dance song than the one where I realized how absolutely in love with you I am my dear, Our forever starts now, until we’re old and sitting on that front porch and reminiscing about this day. I love you.” he smiled and came to take my hand as again, Only by LeeHi played once more.

“I didn’t think you’d actually cry at me walking down the aisle.” I whispered in his ear.

“I told you I would, you look beautiful my wife.” he smiled and the photographer certainly was getting everything we paid him for.

“Hopefully Hongjoong doesn’t get any embarrassing shots to blackmail you with.”

“Oh you know he’ll hold me crying like a baby over my head for years.” he chuckled. 

“Defintely.”

“To Our Forever?”

“Forever” I smiled and kissed him once again, as my husband, as my partner, as the love of my life. 

Forever.

My Only One.

[l-e-morgan-author]

wounded

For the thirteenth time since she'd left the light of the smeared lantern, Patience stumbled and nearly fell. She was growing lightheaded; good sense would have dictated that she rang triple zero, got them to look at her arm and stop the bleeding. But all she could think of was Nathan. Nathan would help her.

It was already growing hazy in her mind: the sudden violence, the flash of the knife, the yelling. The blinding pain as she turned and ran. The running that had slowed down to a stumbling walk. She pressed her other hand against the wound, but it was still bleeding.

She wasn't far away from Nathan's house, though. Again she stumbled, took a deep breath, went on again. She'd get there, though it might take a while.

Some length of time later, she was staring up at his house and realising she actually had no idea how to do this. Eventually Patience rang the doorbell, watching blood drip slowly to the ground. She thought it was slowing, maybe.

To her relief, he answered it, whitening as he saw her. "Patience? What on earth—dear heart, what's happened to you?" Putting his arm around her, guiding her inside. "What happened? You're hurt. Do you need an ambulance? You're shaking." The barrage of questions was overwhelming, and she was silent.

When they got inside, and he had guided her to a chair at the dining room table, she leaned back in relief. After a brief, hard glance he pulled her sleeve back; Patience did not look. It was a mess.

"Who did this to you?" His voice was warm and comforting, and pulled her back to reality. "What happened, Patience?"

She tried to breathe, and instead sobbed. Nathan put an arm around her. "Hey, you don't have to answer anytime soon," he said gently. "I can take care of this and you can tell me later."

"No," she got out, "it was Chloe, Nathan—she—she—" Again her voice stuck. She couldn't revisit it: not right now.

"I see," he breathed, and his shoulders loosened a little. Only then did Patience realise what it might have looked like to him.

"I—"

"It wasn't your fault," he assured her gently. "It wasn't. Is Chloe okay?"

"I—I think so? I don't know." She sobbed again. "I ran, Nathan. I don't know if she's okay."

He was putting pressure on the wound now; Patience hissed. "Sorry...." he murmured in her ear. "It's okay, though. You don't have to feel guilty."

"I argued with her," she said, flinching again and glancing down at her arm. He was using the sleeve of his own jumper on it. "I shouldn't have riled her up."

"It's still not your fault," repeated Nathan. "Now, look—I'm going to get my parents, if that's okay with you, and we'll call an ambulance. It's pretty deep—I don't like it."

She nodded. "I'm sorry I came to you. I just couldn't think of anything else."

"It's okay," he said again. "I'm glad you came, Patience. I'm glad you thought of me for safety."

"'Course I did," she mumbled, and closed her eyes. "Nathan, I'm really sleepy—"

"I know you are," he said, shifting one hand. A moment later she heard him on the phone, sharp and clinical and worried; nothing like the gentle, beloved boy he had been a moment before. "—Yes, she absolutely needs an ambulance. Look, it's deep, and it's bleeding despite the pressure I'm putting on it—"

She laid her head on the table and sobbed again, covering her face with her free hand.

"I'd get you a hot drink," he said, after, caressing her hair, "but I think the ambulance is going to be here too soon for you to enjoy it. When they've fixed you up, I'll make you one, okay?"

"Love it," said Patience, and leaned against him. "Looking forward to it."

~

(A/N: I love these two so much. They appear in the novella I posted on my website (lemorganauthor.wordpress.com) over Christmas; this is set obviously later, not necessarily fitting with the rest of the stuff I write about them, but I had fun. It's inspired by a scene in The Creeping Shadow (Lockwood and Co); if you've read it, you'll know. Please tell me what you think about it!)

[Crossposted to that page on my website where I keep free stories and also AO3]

tagging @pilgrimsofworship @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin

[loser-jpg]

I hope u are still taking requests 🤗

So a oneshot with twst boys where yuu is going through a lot but doesn’t like to share it with her friends bcoz she thinks they won’t care ( because of her past experience with her friends) . Just a comfort fic with all of them trying to comfort them in their own way

I only write gn or masc reader so i switched it to gn, hope thats ok.

also i got really inspired while making this and kinda went overboard with the length so i decided to make a couple chapters to get each character in, ill add links to the other chapters as I write them

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

It had been a couple months since Yuu had found their way to Twisted Wonderland. The initial adrenaline rush had worn off long ago, but the never ending excitement of meeting new people and experiencing new things kept them distracted for a while. Now that things were dying down and falling into a day to day rhythm, Yuu couldn't help but begin to think back to their home, and all the people they left. They were grateful, of course, for all the new friends they had made, but that wasn't to say they wanted to abandon the ones they already had. And what about their family? Were they ok? Did something happen to them in the time Yuu was gone? Yuus thoughts only got more and more anxiety riddled the more time they spent at NRC.

I can't really tell anyone though. They'll get annoyed with me. It's not their problem I'm stuck here.

Yuus poker face must have betrayed them because it was only a few days of silent brooding before they were confronted by Kalim.

"Hey, Yuu! Come with me to Scarabia!"

"Sure, why though?"

"You'll see!" Yuu followed along with interest as Kalim dragged them through the Hall of Mirrors back to his dorm. Kalim was in such an unnecessary rush he was practically pushing them by the time they smelled whatever was being cooked in the Scarabia kitchen.

"You seemed sad recently so Jamil agreed to cook for you! Whenever I'm sad either Jamils cooking cheers me up, or throwing a party does, but Jamil said you probably didn't want a party." Kalim was right about that, Yuu didn't really want any sort of party, but the small act of kindness from the two boys warmed their heart, even if they didn't know why Yuu was upset.

"Kalim invited some classmates from Heartslaybul, against my better input, but he said you wouldn't mind." Jamil barely looked at Yuu for a second, but they could tell he was just as concerned for them as Kalim. It made them feel a little guilty, to make their friends worry, but the attention was nice.

"Hey, Yuu how ya doin. Kalim said you were sad." Yuu hadn't noticed, but Trey, Cater, and Riddle had walked into the room where Yuu and the two Scarabia boys were. Cater had sat down across from Yuu and went right to talking with them, thoroughly ignoring the now slightly annoyed Jamil and Riddle.

"Cater! Ah, I'm fine. Sorry I don't want you guys to worry for me or anything." Yuu laughed half-heartedly, trying to brush off their embarrassment.

"It's fine Yuu, you're our friend so we want to make sure you're okay." Trey set down a box infront of Yuu, before going over to talk to Jamil who was currently dealing with an over-energized Kalim.

"It's important for students at Night Raven College to be at their best so they may also present their best. It's...also important that you are doing well because we care for you, BUT IT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAT YOUR ATTITUDE REFLECTS THE STATE OF THIS SCHOOL." Riddle practically ran through that middle phrase, almost to the point where Yuu didn't catch it, luckily they did, but Riddle walked off red-faced before they could thank him.

"Those are for you btw, Trey made them." Yuu opened the box in front of them to see multiple small baked goods. Too many for them to eat on their own, but nonetheless they thanked Trey, and the others for their kindness. It was nice to know there were people who cared enough to go out of their way even though Yuu didn't tell them how they felt.

end of chapter 1

Thanks for sending me a request <3

[gendervapor14]

I've read a lot of your stories (and liked them a lot) so I'm wondering how you plan out longer fics? I feel like I want to add to the Corazon pile but I don't really know where to start

anon.... [steps closer and kisses you on the head] thank you. i had an entire work shift to think about this and i still haven't come up with a clear answer 😅 but i will certainly offer all the help and advice i can!!

starting is my favorite part!! you need some sort of idea. doesn't have to be anything crazy. (i'm sure you have plenty!) for instance, the idea that inspired me to write 01746 was "i want rosinante to have a proper backstory." for two fights for freedom, the idea was "i want cora and bell-mere to live and have a nice family together". i think vaguer ideas are more likely to lead to larger stories, but as i'm sure you've seen, i tend to write a lot (a decent portion of my multichaps were supposed to be oneshots) but regardless of length, every good story starts with the desire to put an idea out there, and i get the feeling you've got that part covered!

in terms of physically writing, this is where things get a little tricky. bigger stories tend to involve planning. personally, i'm a pantser. my natural writing process involves no planning. nowadays i do a ton of planning, but that's because i've taken on a ton of hours at work, so i don't have the time to sit around and experiment with my writing anymore. if i want a story to go a certain direction, i need to have some sort of guideline to keep me on track with time. so consider how much free time you have. if you have a lot, you might not have to worry too much about outlining or making mistakes, because you'll have plenty of time to fool around and fix things.

(also worth noting it IS just fanfiction, and the post button is not setting your words in stone. i've edited plenty of things after posting, made some major edits too! that's always okay. it's just fanfiction :) i've never had a reader get upset about me tweaking previous chapters.)

in terms of guidelines or no guidelines, it depends on you and your story! like i said, i write by the seat of my pants, so guidelines tend to confuse me. maybe you're similar. or maybe you LOVE a guideline! outlines are good because they're flexible. even if it's a simple breakdown of some basic plot points you think would be neat. for two fights for freedom, i have an outline that lists every chapter and every scene within every chapter. pretty detailed. took a long time to make it though, and i'm constantly tweaking it. for 01746, i used a physical whiteboard with random notes and diagrams, but there wasn't any structural planning until probably the last ten chapters. with 01746, canon provided a lot of substance for me, where with two fights for freedom, almost the entire story is my own, extremely canon divergent, so it's more weight for me to bear. your need for an outline or notes may depend on how much weight you can carry to make the story cohesive.

NOW don't let any of that scare you!! usually when i begin a big multichap, i don't start with an outline. i just write something. i try my idea out, if that makes sense. sometimes what i start writing becomes chapter one, or maybe it'll become part of the summary, or maybe it'll be the plot twist in chapter seventy-two. in the beginning, it doesn't matter what comes out of your hands. get cozy with your idea and let it fill you with excitement and inspiration. you can worry about organization afterwards.

sorry if this was a bit indecipherable or unclear 😅 with every story i write, i try something new! fanfic writing for me is a great way to hone my skills and experiment, so i don't have a scientific method quite yet. i just try to learn about myself as much as possible and have fun along the way! and i hope you're able to do the same!!

i'm around if you ever need more help! you can always DM or shoot me another ask, i don't mind at all! i really flung a lot of words at you here so feel free to narrow me down to a more specific concern whenever. i wish you great luck on your projects 🍀 this world always needs more added to the cora pile ♥ and feel free to hmu if you do end up posting something!! i'd love to check it out 👀

[catboyolli]

okay I was 💖 inspired 💖 so here's my headcanons for BC corndog sizes, pls fight me I beg of you:

Tommi: relatively short but thicccccccc, "fun sized" gets a whole new meaning

Aleksi: it's common knowledge he's got a huge fucking corndo(n)g, nothing to debate about

Niko: big for someone his size and he's very proud of it too probably

Joonas: sorry to say this but average most likely. he's already got the looks you know, he can't have it all now can he (not everyone can be like Aleksi)

Olli: average corndog size as well but correlated to his size it's rather impressive. Joonas is endlessly mad about this

Joel: as stated earlier, smaller and thinner than the average corndog, nothing to be ashamed of though! at least he makes funny tiktoks eh?

thanks have a nice day 🌽🌭

jdjfnsjsbbdsbh I absolutely love this 😂💘💖💗💖

Tommi: agree on the thiccccccccccc but I'm gonna be generous and say big too, sends you to the ER kinda big 😳

Aleksi: yeah he's fucking huge, 100% agree here nothing to discuss, this is gospel truth

Niko: sorry but i'm gonna go with short but thick, coca cola can looking corn dog 😌 he's the kind of guy to say that girth is better than length

Joonas: 100% agree, average corn dog but he trims his pubes to make it look bigger

Olli: also agree here, but ngl I'm tempted to say long and thick and best cock on earth because I'm biased but we all know I would be lying 😔 doesn't trim his pubes and his corn dog is longer than Joonas (they fought about this since they were teens)

Joel: smaller and thinner but it's okay, his corn dog is desired and loved anyway

have a great night!!!!! 🌽 🌭

[lifewithdavefarts]

Would love to hear about your writing process if you'd be open to discussing that. Do you have set times where you sit down and write or is it more of just a "whenever inspiration strikes" type of thing? How do you keep track of your ideas and how do you determine things like episode order, episode length, how long the gap should be between episodes, which fan suggestions would/wouldn't work, how characters should react in a given situation, etc.

ahah you're greatly overestimating me, trust me.

I just write in my free time and when I feel like it. Most ideas are loosely based on stuff I've experienced but, like you observed, sometimes inspiration strikes, and other times it's a mix of both. As long as I'm not forcing anything out and doing it for fun (and horniness), I'm okay with it, hence the occasional very long hiatus between the stories: there may be ideas and suggestions, but I just don't feel like writing sometimes, that's all.

Episode length is kind of random, depends on how much I'm comfortable with the scenario I'm writing about, just like episode order. There is a continuity and occasional references to past episodes, but it's not that deep, trust me ahah. I do have a general idea of where I'm heading, but it's not like I'm planning story arcs or a big finale ahah it's still fart porn in the end.

One anon a couple of years ago compared the DaveFarts series to an "adult porn sit-com" and to be honest this is what I was going for. Is it super weird? Probably, but I like the idea of writing something that it's a mix of chill, funny and, most importantly, really hot at the same time, and I'm glad you're enjoying it (at least I hope...).

I read (and try to reply) to all of the suggestions you guys send me: most of them are actually surprisingly similar to what I had in mind already (sometimes I think of a story but I manage to properly write it like 12 months later) while others really inspired me to tackle different scenarios, such as the D&D episode. In general, however, I'm sadly very biased when it comes to the fart kink, which is mostly jeans-related, hence why Dave usually wears loose/sagging jeans in most of the episodes, though I do like exploring different shades of this fetish occasionally (again, usually based on certain suggestions).

About the characters, dude, I'm not a professional writer by any means ahah. Dave and Tim are probably the most fleshed out but other than that I keep all of the recurring characters as simple as possible, so I don't have to keep track of multiple personalities clashing. I got the general idea of how they'd all interact but I try to focus on the main duo though, again, sometimes I like experimenting.

This was needlessly long, sorry! Thanks for reading! Glad you enjoy the series.

[hollowsart]

Mmmmmmm... I just read the thing with the scenario and really inspired me to give to you another one! (i like your style of writing) If you want to do that again hete it is!

But what about Otto helping an injured Acedia?

..ok so uhm.. I'm sorry 👉👈

this isn’t the best thing I’ve written, highly likely there’s some problems here and there, but it’s fine. I’ve worked on this long enough I think.

I apologize for the sheer length.. I got a little carried away.

====

Her senses were screaming, ears ringing, and eyesight blurred from the tears that wouldn't stop. Heaving and wheezing and coughing through her pained yet mostly silent sobbing. Up until this point in her life Acedia had never experienced this level of pain, gripping her stomach and arms as she buried her face into the comforting form that held her.

Otto, using his real arms, held her firm yet gently against him. Using his mechanical limbs to lift them both and scale down the building, moving from one skyscraper to the next. Panic and concern fueling him as he rushed the sloth-like hero to his place for some emergency care.

The man who had done this to her following along overhead, large mechanical wings gliding through the air, weaving around the buildings with ease. Though they were lightweight, they felt unbearably heavy, heavy with the guilt and remorse for what he'd done. Fighting someone who had only wanted to help.. blinded by his own senseless fury over who he had presumed dead just moments prior.

He hovered over the residence of his friend as they had quickly arrived, hesitating to land and follow. Only when one of Otto's actuators stretched out toward him and waved, beckoning him inside did he do so. Folding the wings back as he touched ground, closing them tight before he walked inside. He would just sit back and wait, he decided, making himself half at home and taking a seat in the living room.

--

Otto scurried down to his lab, frantically whipping his actuators around the room to trigger the table and lights, and to find the first aid kit. As soon as the table rose from the floor he placed Acedia atop it. She winced and groaned and he took a step back, anxious and trying to stay calm.

Acedia kept her head down toward her lap, merely hunched in pain. As much as it was necessary, she didn't want to move. She didn't really have much of a choice in the matter, however, as soon came Otto's voice, directing her attention toward him.

"Acedia.. I.. I-I'm going to need to remove your mask and suit so that I can help you." An actuator placed the first aid kit on the table at her feet as she let out another silent shaky sob.

She hesitated, looking in his direction as though processing his words. He avoided eye contact and reached to open the bag as she thought about what he'd said. As soon as he heard her little 'okay' he turned back to her, passing on a cloth to an actuator which took off upstairs. Otto cautiously brought his hands up to her face, hesitating just at her neckline when he spoke again.

"..Do you mind if I..?"

Otto was nervous, to say the least, about seeing under the mask. Sure he helped her to craft this new costume.. but he still had not seen her face even then. It felt wrong, yet Acedia gave him permission to do it, and he followed through.

Dipping his fingers carefully into the neck of her outer costume he delicately pulled it up and over her face. Unveiling before him her hidden features. With the mask now fully removed, he paused and finally got a good look at her.

Despite the tears, reddened eyes and face.. he felt his own face heat up just a bit. Acedia looked away and sniffed into her shoulder opposite of him. It took only a moment before Otto cleared his throat and his hands were back at her neck. This time he took the zipper and pulled, going down as far as he could before needing to help move her arms out of the way and soon out the holes of the sleeves.

Now with her undersuit exposed he got to work brushing her hair out of the way to get at the zipper in the back of it. He did the same as he had done with the top suit and helped her to remove it. Had her arms not been injured, she could have easily undone it herself, alas, this was not the case. As he was only working on her upper half at the moment he let everything sit at her waist before moving on.

Acedia hissed while moving around so he could get to her better, to see her better. The actuator returned with the cloth now thoroughly damp, Otto taking it in hand as he turned back to Acedia. With his hands raised once more he got to work helping to clean her face first before moving.. down.

A small whine caught in her throat made Otto pause for just a moment, assuming it was in response to the pain.

..In truth, it only partially was.

Acedia closed her eyes to avoid looking at the doctor, feeling embarrassed. Gosh he was close. She did her best to mentally focus on something else.. fighting off the creeping thought of how warm he felt, no matter how comforting that was at the moment. If it hadn’t been for Otto finding her and stepping in when he did, she couldn’t imagine what the outcome would have really been on that rooftop. What this very moment in time would have been if he hadn’t come to help stop the fight. Fiddling with her hands in her lap to give her something to do she gripped at the zipper and hem of her over-suit. At least now she had stopped her sobbing, it had grown tiring for her body.

Otto, on the other hand, had entered focus mode as he tended to her injuries, wiping away any blood he found with the wet cloth. An actuator was pulling necessary items from the first aid kit while another retrieved another cloth, one more was circling Acedia, examining the further damage Otto needed to take care of.

The poor girl, he thought, covered in scratches and bruises, cuts and scrapes.. and a gash or two, and that was only on her upper half. Otto frowned at the thought, brows knitting together with a mix of concern for Acedia and frustration with his friend upstairs for doing all of this.

--

Adrian could only sit so long, feeling restless he stood up and paced around the room for a bit. His mind a slurry of thoughts, both relief and remorse. Fretting over everything that had perspired earlier that night.

The man merely removed his headpiece and placed a palm to his face. Running his hand down his weary features, not caring if he smudged the makeup around his eyes. That was the least of his worries.

After a moment and a deep sigh he placed the headpiece back on and headed toward the door once more, muttering an apology as he did.

"..I'm so sorry."

--

With her face now cleaned, Acedia watched Otto as he went on to her arms, taking one in hand at a time. His touch was firm yet delicate, worried he may hurt her more than she already was. She did her best not to stare.. nor have her eyes wander to his face for too long, snapping her gaze away to instead examine the room she was in.

It was a quaint little place. A few tables were set up in the almost circular room, some posters and diagrams and blueprints decorated the walls. A couple of boxes lining the walls, some boxes and machines, unfinished projects she assumed, were covered with a tarp or a cloth.

Her eyes scanning and focusing on the sci-fi looking gadgets and devices and more that filled the space, noting that despite these things it still felt empty. Barren of feeling too lived in, par for some old mugs and scattered papers, a dry-erase board with equations scrawled all over it. And a single large aquarium tank at what she assumed was the back wall. Curious.. it didn't appear as though there was anything in it from her view, though..

Ah.

Snapped back from her thoughts by a sharp surge of pain at her side, she yelped and jerked away. Otto scurried back, fumbling with the cloth and sputter apologies, his face growing red.

"I'm sorry! I--! I didn't--! I didn't mean to cause you harm, I--!! Oh dear, oh dear.. I-I should have warned.. Should’ve asked before I went and..!"

"It's," Acedia hissed at the still stinging pain, "It's alright, I just--" another wheeze, "I wasn't.. Y'know, expectin' that..!" She did her best to sound reassuring, though it hurt enough to make the tears return.

Otto merely waited while she sniffed and breathed to try and settle down again. Only when she was calm did he approach the table once more, cautious over what he needed to proceed with doing to help her. For now, he skipped over her torso, feeling quite sheepish now from previously trying to merely check her sides. He’d seen the cuts and tears in the suit, he’ll need to fix that later.

He was careful with the rest of the cleaning process, gentle when he had to hold her legs, turning and twisting them around. His grasp was firm yet kind, she couldn't help her racing heart, fighting off some thoughts that weren't meant for here and now. She wasn’t the only one, however, having odd thoughts, Otto’s ears burning red as he focused on cleaning and patching whatever spots he could find, nothing too serious luckily.

It didn't take too much longer before he had finished patching her up. Wrapping larger cuts with gauze and tape, and decorating her spindly form with a variety of colorful and patterned band-aids wherever they were needed. With one last check he held out his hands to help her down from the table.

"There, as good as new.. well, as good and new as I can do for not being a medical doctor." he joked to lighten the mood.

"Thank you.." She let out a tired chuckle and sigh that transitioned quickly into a yawn. Everything that happened that night catching up, feeling more than exhausted. Otto took notice, an actuator sliding over and around her cautiously, giving her aid in staying balanced.

“..Do you think you’re able the get home safe?” he asked with concern.

“I don’t think I could even make it to the front door, to be honest.” She hardly had the energy to do really anything, much less think and worry at the moment.

“Acedia.. Uhm.. N-Now I know how this is going to sound, and I don’t want you to make a fuss, however--” he spoke quickly with nerves, trying to get this out without stuttering, “I could take you back myself, but.. Would you like to stay for the night? I’d feel better to know that you are really alright. I know I’ve already given you that new suit, but allow me to add to my debt paid?”

Acedia jolted at his words at first before chirping back with a tired smile, “I just want to sleep, I don’t really care where right now, thank you.” Fretting over the mere concept of staying the night at someone else’s place, especially the home of a man she’d only met relatively recently, was far from her mind at the moment.

A wave of surprise and relief came over Otto, sighing to himself and offering his arm to help lead her upstairs and out of the lab. Thinking more to himself as he walked her to his spare bedroom. Feeling so relieved she wasn’t put-off by his strange sudden offer. He really would have helped her back to wherever it was she lived, the night had been more than eventful, though, and for now he, too, just needed a good rest.

He'll have to have a word with his friend Adrian later.. about all that transpired. He was intent on giving that old man an earful.