#so many ideas such little time 😭

[foolishlovers]

11, 16 & 39 please 🙏🏻🤍

hi there, thank u for sending me these love 🥰💜

11) link your three favorite fics right now

ahhh this is so incredibly hard. i have so many fics that i absolutely adore. these are just three of them:

Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes by snek_of_eden

Old Vines by sevdrag (seventhe)

Heavenly Wicked Cafe by WaitingToBeBroken

(i'm a rulebreaker so i'm gonna include yours as well, it's so very precious to me)

16) how many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? share one of them?

omg so many of them. they just never stop coming!! every couple of days i’m adding new ideas to my notes sigh..

one particular idea i’ve been thinking about lots is basically this:

bed & breakfast owner!crowley desperately needs some help restoring his place over the winter months and… unfortunately… his (now kind of famous) ex-boyfriend turns up at his door instead of the kind helper he had agreed to let stay. obviously, the tension is… fucked.

inspired by my desire to write a painful exes to friends to lovers story as well as sweaty and strong!aziraphale building and repairing… things 🤭

39) share a snippet from a WIP

this is a snippet from my teachers boarding school au (wild hearts):

As the slow, melodious tunes encircled them, Crowley strode confidently towards Aziraphale, who stood poised at the front. Gleaming moonlight accentuated the grey strands woven into Aziraphale's hair, all bright and beautiful. He sucked in a lungful of air, feeling his heart skip a beat.

Threading his fingers through his own hair, Crowley closed the distance between them, his steps relaxed yet purposeful. Or at least he hoped it gave that impression. His right palm was placed on Aziraphale's shoulder while his left hand met Aziraphale's grasp. Crowley halted briefly, then flashed a grin, meeting Aziraphale's expectant gaze. "Dance with me?"

it's from ch8 which might be my favourite chapter i've written so far... still a couple of weeks until it's gonna be posted tho 🤭

fic writer ask game - send me a number

[crispyliza]

I've got you all figured out fanartists

[sukibenders]

Racism and misogynoir are so apparent in fandom, especially when it comes to shipping because why is it when a white male, sometimes female but I see it more with the former, character is on screen with a love interest, particularly woc, especially if they're black, and even with all the emotional scenes or just moments where they look at one another in ways different from the rest, it's met with "No, they aren't dating/the show is not going to put them together" but let the other love interest be white as well and suddenly it all makes sense? Heck, the examples I mentioned above don't even have to exist between the latter for some to STILL go and believe this rhetoric (eg. some Jace and Helaena shippers because, even if these two only interacted with a dance but yet we see Baela console Jace, after he seeks her out, apparently it's to far fetched to believe that Jacela could be a thing?!)

Sometimes it could be a headcanon that, largely, would make sense (and oftentimes was birth due to lack of respect that the poc characters could have been given by the writers *cough* TVD *cough*), and yet you'd still have people dismissing it left and right and spewing hate. At a HEADCANON! And I'm not saying that just because the other person in the ship is poc that you have to ship them, I'm not, but it's very apparent to many poc fans in fandom that unless the characters are swapping spit and doing the nasty, the possibility of them being viewed in any romantic lens feels too much of stretch even though their white counterparts don't have to jump through the same loops.

[triglycercule]

dust with a fucked up savior complex save me dust with a fucked up savior complex SAVE ME!!!! he's literally sooo savior complex coded. he killed his underground to "save" everyone and stop the human from killing them. he thinks that it's better that he does the murdering instead of the human because he has better intentions. he's sad at the beginning (rightfully so) but savior complex dust really gets so much cooler when you add in the fact that dust eventually started to LIKE killing his underground 😭😭 like just..... imagine a manic dust who's gone mad going around claiming he's helping everyone with what he's doing when he's really,,,, not. soo cool.,,, (like dude how are you SAVING people if they don't exist after you've killed the person who was killing them. there is nobody to be safe but yourself anymore) (can you tell this was inspired by the one comic of dust killing his papyrus and saying "it was better if i did it" or something)

but also also on the other hand,,,,, revenge fueled dust??? he's gotten SO bitter from the repeated resets and genos that he's genuinely bitter enough to risk it all to stop the human. he doesn't have pure intentions in this one. dust doesn't claim he's saving anybody with what he's doing murdering them all. he KNOWS it's bad and wrong and hypocritical but he does it anyways because he wants to not only stop the human but to make them suffer. he purposely wants them to keep coming back after killing them just so he can kill them over and over and over and have them experience a fragment of the suffering he did with having all of his friends and family killed. but i think a revenge fueled dust (in contrast to savior complex dust) would be a lot cooler if he still felt shitty for killing everyone. it's painful to do but hate is stronger than love and dust's hate for the human is MUCH stronger than his love for the underground atp

[ch1zzie]

Forgot to post this here butttt

Working on a welcome home animation and mighttttt take me a while

[good-beanswrites]

My translyrics for Salamander, written out under the cut :D

This one was much more difficult than the last, but I'm still very satisfied with it! 😤 I'm both sad that my version lost a lot of the fun soundplay of the original, and also waaay more impressed with the lyrics and vocals after digging it like this! I tried to keep it balanced between the original and Fuuta's version, though maybe it ended up leaning more toward the cover, idk. Leaving my specific notes in the tags 👍

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I want a taste, but all this spice may prove more than I can take, (eh?)

Something's on your mind. So spit it out and tell me, don't waste my time, kay?

I'm hooked on this, pass me a dish.

The way I'm starving here without you -- it's a crime

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want a bite, I can't help giving in to this new appetite.

Again, again, I want to be on fire when I get to the end.

We live too fast, we burn to ash,

I never handled spices well and it's a crime.

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

I want to burn bright red

I want to burn bright red

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

Tell me I'm not alone in my mind!

Salamander~ Look what's happened to me. This pa- passion's crazy

Tell me I'm not delirious, I'm being serious.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want to leave I want to go, but I can never stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

ADAPTATIONS DO NOT HAVE TO BE BAD ADAPTATIONS DO NOT HAVE TO BE BAD ADAPTATIONS DO NOT HAVE TO BE BAD ADAPTATIONS DO NOT HAVE TO BE BAD ADAPTATIONS DO NOT HAVE TO BE-

ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD ADAPTATIONS ARE NOT INHERENTLY-

[padfootastic]

in a turn of events that doesn’t surprise anyone im sure, @impishtubist has caused yet another scene to be stuck in my head until i wrote it down. so, have some sexy, greying sirius; a deeply thirsty, appreciative james who won’t let him dye it; and a very-fed-up-of-his-parents-antics harry for prongsfoot wednesday!

x

Harry entered the house with ‘I’m home!’ on his lips that died an instant death as soon as he registered what he was seeing.

“Er,” he hesitated. Does he really want to—? One more look at the scene in front of him and he decided to bite the bullet. Better to clear the air now than keep stewing on it later.

“Um. Is this a—kink? A fetish? Should I leave and never come back?”

In any other scenario, the way both his parents froze and looked at him with wide eyes would’ve been comical.

If only Dad wasn’t straddling his Papa on the ground, one of his hands holding both of Papa’s above him with disturbing ease.

“Er—“

“It’s not what it looks like, Haz!” Dad yelped, cutting across Papa who’s face and neck were turning a steady pink. “I swear.”

“Then why are you still—like that?” Harry asked, deciding to play it safe and look at the boring grey couch in the living room instead. Nothing scandalous going on there.

He could hear the scrambling of feet, a few thumps, and a mini-yelp, absently wondering about the amount of noise the simple act of getting up could produce.

“Right.” Dad cleared his throat. “So, Harry, would you please tell your Papa that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to dye his hair?”

Harry blinks, turning to his other, exasperated, father in silent question.

“Harry, will you please tell your Dad that this is my hair and I can do with it as I please?”

“Not when you promised yourself to me!” Dad yelps and Harry is hit with an intense wave of regret at instigating this.

“Promised—?”

“Yes! Our wedding, you said, and I quote, ‘I give myself to you, James Potter, mind, body and soul’, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Papa throws his hands up in the air. “But c’mon James—this is not what I meant when I said body!”

“What, you think I only wanted you for that ars—“

“Dad!” Harry, yelps, mortified. He can feel his cheeks heating in a violent blush. He can feel a similar flush creeping up Papa’s neck. Sadly, his words don’t have the deterring effect he’d intended.

“I mean, it is spectacular, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than just a beautiful body, Si!”

“James, please, have some mercy for our child, if not me,” Papa says. Thankfully, this seems to register as Dad’s eye widened, part horror and part apology. Harry waves it away tiredly; though he’s no less embarrassed every time it happens, growing up in the Potter household with two extremely affectionate parents has exposed him to much worse. He’s accepted it as his lot in life.

“Er—yeah, anyway,” he coughs, ruffling his hair, “Bottom line—Sirius isn’t allowed to dye his hair.”

“I literally never agreed to that.”

“Too bad because you will,” Dad says, slowly moving towards Papa with a look on his face that Harry is loath to describe as predatory. If only it wasn’t so true.

“Oh?” Papa’s left eyebrow rises extraordinarily high, as it tends to do quite often. He crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. The motion makes his Dad smile.

“Mhm.” The two of them are chest-to-chest by this point, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry could probably conduct a whole rave party right here, right then, and they wouldn’t even notice. That is when he decides it’s high time he should step in—not literally, Merlin, no—before they end up doing something that makes him try to run away (again).

“So I was right—it is a kink,” Harry says dryly, once again regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place. He should’ve just turned back around and gone to the Weasleys instead.

“Harry, no—“

x

Three years later, Harry—who’s almost blissfully forgotten about the entire incident—walks into his parents’ house to an almost identical scene, just with his Papa on top this time. This time, he makes the sensible choice he still regrets not making all those years ago, and walks right back out the door.

Let those two sort it out on their own. Merlin knows his intervention hadn’t helped a bit the last time around.

[druidrot]

Y’all…I’m deep in the hozier pits right now and wasteland, baby just makes me think of Dammon?? I know he’s an NPC that doesn’t get a lot of love but god a romance where he and tav dance around each other, knowing they’re developing feelings but having to skirt around each other till the end of the game…

Specifically the lyrics:

and I love too / and love soon might end

Be known in it’s aching / shown in the shaking

Lately of my wasteland, baby

Like I’m sorry but touch-starved dammon being thrust back into the heat of feeling love after elturel and avernus and a tav so intent on showing him that there’s good in the world for him, that someone can return the kindness and optimism he’s so keen on showing everyone else. A tav so scared to get involved with him because they understand that circumstance has put a target on their back and they don’t want to drag him down with them. So soft and so yearning and so unsure of what the hell to make of these feelings for each other. Dammon being coy because he’s just a blacksmith and tav is the hero of the gate, a figure surely to be spoken of through the ages…okay I’ll shut up now

[teddybeartoji]

ok anyway idk how i feel abt that toji piece buuuut . fuck it we ball am i right or am i righttttr

[robinsnest2111]

also need to draw nikki grabbing and squeezing the hell our of vince's butt...........

and vince holding onto tommy's waist.............

[bropunzeling]

Trick or Treat! Any mattdrai plot bunny/WIP you're batting around (new work or sequel), whatever you'd like to share!

(On the off-chance outsider POV Quinn is involved in one of these ideas, I will put in a plug for this. There's a reason he's so long-suffering, he's had to bear witness to so much.)

alright anon i went through the old g drive to look at one of my plot bunny dump docs and here is a bit from an arranged marriage space opera type fic that would involve a LOT of worldbuilding but i think could be really fun if i can commit!

After an hour of dueling practice, Leon’s so tired and sore he can barely think. He ends the last bout flat on his back, Connor’s dull practice sword tapping his collarbone. They’re a good doubles team, but Connor is unmatched alone.

“We’re done,” Connor says, face red as he pants. “You’ll look like shit for the ceremony if we keep going.”

“I never look like shit,” Leon retorts, taking the hand Connor offers him to get up on his feet. “According to the ‘net, I’m always handsome.”

“And humble,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t forget that.”

Leon wipes the sweat off his face with a sleeve as they walk to the lift. The McDavid’s house in the capital is smaller than their family seat on [planet], but still takes up several stories and most of a city block, filled with all the amenities that the family, their guests, and their servants and soldiers could want or need. “Consequence is everything,” as Connor’s father would say. 

On the seventh floor, both Leon and Connor disembark. Before he goes down the hall to his rooms, Connor claps a hand on his shoulder. “See you soon,” he says.

Leon nods, tasting bile in his mouth. 

It is Leon’s understanding that there was more than a little negotiation over what was appropriate for him to wear. The McDavid colors of navy and gold were not an option. Neither were the reds of the House he’ll marry into. In the end, the decision was for neutral colors. Whites and grays; silver for the embroidery. A fresh start, symbolically speaking.

Once he’s dressed, he surveys himself in the mirror. Pants tucked into tall boots, a clean white undershirt. A long formal coat in gray silk, silver clasps fastened up to his throat.

He looks like a ghost.

For a moment, he wishes, with the kind of longing he hasn’t felt since he first left [Planet]’s atmosphere, that he could see his parents, or his sister. Kim had sent a message when news of the betrothal contract broke on the ‘net, when Leon had been taking out his frustration on as many targets as he could manage in the training rooms. We can’t come on such short notice, she’d said, bouncing the niece he’d never met on her knee in the holo. But I wish we could. Come home when you can.

Leon hasn’t been home in fifteen years. He's not sure when, if ever, he'll be back.

There’s no point in longing for something he cannot have. He will do what is asked of him, because he has to. He may not like it, but he will not falter.

In the mirror, his reflection swallows. He sets his jaw.

Now he looks angry. Well, that can’t be helped. Leon’s never been good at holding back whatever he’s thinking. Not in interviews, not in matches, not in the rare times he’s out in the field. Might as well be honest with the fucker he’ll be shackled to.

Leon adjusts his coat, fixes his hair. Turns on his heel and out into the hall, where Connor is waiting to escort him downstairs. Follows Connor into the lift and stares straight ahead until the doors open in the garage, where their escort is waiting.

Then, he gets in the craft that will take him from House McDavid to the Hall of Seven Stars, where all such elite marriages are done. Where, in a few hours, he will cease to be Leon Draisaitl, pledge to House McDavid, and become Leon Tkachuk.

[ginaporterr]

haven't made anything in years 😭

[ficsforeren]

What does it take for you to continue Knight!eren's series?🥲🥲

another me

[sickgraymeat]

If I started posting lil minifics here would ppl read them? Probably mostly bubbline + some other AT stuff + maybe other media ??

EDIT: I am also sickgraymeat on ao3! If you want to know how/what I usually write etc.

[sunberry-strawflower]

#curtissonweek2023

Well, guess who decided to participate in @blue-fanlady's curtisson week??

I stg this first day was sending me to hell and back😭😭I was almost considering not posting it but I might as well haha

It's a meeting in a dream type beat bcz I feel like we don't have enough of those

(Bit of a TW for derealization? They ask the other if they're real a few times so I'm just being safe)

Word count: 1.1k

Curtisson Week Day 1: First Meet

Sven found himself inside of a small, pretty garden. It was night time and the moon was out, high in the sky with stars twinkling above. Flowers of all kinds were surrounding him and a path made of cobblestone led its way to a nice wood bench. Sven looked around and saw all the different kinds of flowers as he walked down the pathway. Tall sunflowers that towered over him and small daisies and poppies he'd have to crouch down to see properly.

The garden was fairly quiet, nothing but the sound of his own footsteps and the night air. Once he got to the bench, he took a seat on it and looked around a bit more. This felt relaxing. Almost freeing. 

One thing he noticed while looking around was a wood shed, not too far away from the bench. It looked like it was fairly old, but it was still in decent shape as long as you were careful to not lean on anything and get a splinter. 

Another thing he noticed was that, outside of the gate leading to the garden and the fence surrounding it, it was just a black void. No lights, no trees, no grass, not even the night sky to be found out there. Just pitch black. It felt like this garden was the only thing present. He was the only person present here. 

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice another person approach him and take a seat on the bench next to him. He instinctively turned into this person's direction and jumped a little bit. Guess he wasn't the only person here after all… 

This person looked like a guy around his age, he had a tophat on with headphones that seemed to be an orange-ish sesame color ripping through it. 

Sven found himself staring at him in wonder. How did he get here? Is he even human? Is this some kind of figment of his imagination? 

The other turned to look in his direction. He seemed to have caught Sven staring. "Uhm…"

Sven jumped again and tried to stutter out something. "Oh! Uh, I wasn't..well, I didn't mean to uhh, stare. Sorry."

The other just shrugged. "It's fine."

Well, seems like the pretty atmosphere was a little ruined because all of Sven's thoughts shifted to the guy next to him. He had just about a million questions jogging through his head. 

Who is this guy? Is he a figment of his imagination? Can figments of your imagination talk? Is this a dream? Is he dreaming? Has he seen this person before? 

Sven started to wonder if he should talk to this person or not. He didn't want the silence to become awkward (or at least, more awkward than it's already become) and it feels like the longer he stays quiet, the more confused he feels. 

Sven glanced back at the person next to him and decided to ask him the question he's been wondering about the most. 

"Who are you?"

The other turned to look at him. "Hm? Oh, I'm Burt," he replied. "You are?"

"Sven." he answers, still looking at the other curiously. He was about to drop another question before Burt started to speak again. 

"Well, nice to meet you?" He said, awkwardly. 

"Why'd you end that like it was a question?" Sven asked. 

"I dunno. I'm confused, I guess."

Sven tilted his head. "About what?"

"You ask a lot of questions." Burt deadpanned. 

"Hey!" Sven looked almost offended. "I only asked three! I'm just trying to make an effort to understand what's going on here."

Burt shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry." 

Sven couldn't tell whether that apology was genuine or not, but he decided not to question it this time and sighed. 

They both sat in a silence that was a little less awkward than before. Still though, Sven couldn't help but continue to wonder about this Burt guy. 

Sven leaned closer to the other and started to lightly poke his arm. 'My finger isn't going through him.' 

He poked a little more before Burt glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" 

Sven looked up at him. "Are you real?" He asked suddenly. 

Burt seemed a little confused by the question. "Are you?"

"What kind of question is that?? Of course I am."

"Really?" Burt wondered and started to poke Sven teasingly.

Sven pushed his hand away. "Hey, stop! Yes I am."

Burt obliged and stopped with the poking, leaving them sitting in silence once more. 

"I guess I'm not dreaming then?" Burt mumbled to himself. 

Sven heard it and tilted his head. "Dreaming? You?"

Burt nodded. "It feels like I'm dreaming, but since we can touch each other, maybe I'm not."

Sven hummed. "I can touch things in my dreams, though. Wasn't it pinching that woke you up not poking?"

"Hm…maybe it was. I can't remember."

Sven started to think about what Burt said. Dreaming…well that explains the dreamy setting and the random dude he doesn't know at all yet looks familiar. He does feel a bit like he's dreaming. 

"Now I'm tempted to pinch myself." Sven said. "I feel like I'm dreaming too."

Burt glanced at Sven. "Do you think we're sharing dreams?"

Sven shook his head. "No way! I'm convinced you're a figment of my imagination."

"Well I feel the same about you then." Burt said. 

"Fine." Sven crossed his arms and looked outside of the garden. Silence befall them for a few minutes more. 

"What if we pinched ourselves at the same time?" Burt suggested. 

"Then we'd both wake up at the same time?" Sven questioned. 

Burt nodded. 

Sven was quiet for a few seconds. 

"Alright, fine."

Burt nodded and held two fingers over his arm, hovering over his skin ever so slightly. Sven did the same. 

"Alright, on the count of three." Burt said. 

"One." Burt initiated the countdown. 

"Two." He continued

"Wait!" Sven interrupted him. 

"What?" Burt glanced up at Sven. 

"On three or after?"

Burt hummed in thought. "After."

Sven nodded. "Alright, sorry. Let's restart."

Burt nodded back in response. 

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

Sven pinched his skin and everything went black. 

---------

Sven's eyelids fluttered open, the sun blinding him for a second. Once he adjusted his eyes to the light, he sat up. He was still in his bed, under the covers and in his pajamas. Once his mind woke up a little more, he started to recall the dream he just had. 

He was in a garden…and it was dark out. It was quiet and nice, save for one thing. What was it? A person? Some guy and…was it a tophat he had on or headphones? 

The dream was fairly vivid for someone who doesn't usually remember their dreams well. That was probably the most he's ever remembered from a dream.

He felt a small but noticeable stinging type pain in his left arm. He instinctively moved his hand over to rub over it, hoping to soothe the pain a little. 

What was that about?