#ah yeah so the comment i read was something along the line of

[martinmynster]

how can you misinterpret a piece of media so badly have you no empathy have we not suffered enough at the hands of others that we must endure it as well from our own people what is wrong with you

[crehador]

i don't know if i think it's really funny or kind of a shame that many people are going to know tadaima okaeri solely as "the omegaverse bl" when it's actually such a sweet slice-of-life about community, family, the struggles of the older generation to understand the younger and vice versa, recovering from social isolation and how recursive that recovery can be, forging lasting friendships as adults, and so on. it's so wholesome and drama-free that it barely has any plot to speak of, but what it lacks in plot it makes up for in themes and man. what beautiful themes

[fgumi]

ꕥ obviously in love; — jungwon drabble, wc: 581, genre: romance, fluff

jungwon had always been good at keeping his emotions in check during lives, but lately, fans couldn’t help but notice a shift. it was subtle at first—small smiles while singing love songs, a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. eventually, the songs became a theme. every live, another love song, each one more heartfelt than the last.

his fans caught on quickly.

"is jungwon in love or something? why is he only singing love songs??" "no way... jungwon’s got a secret crush, i can feel it!" "i'm calling it. jungwon is whipped." "can someone confirm this? because i refuse to believe he’s not singing to someone specific."

unbeknownst to them, they were absolutely right. jungwon was in love—had been ever since he met you. it hadn’t been too long, but you made him feel light, like he could take on the world. every song he sang during those lives had been for you, but he wasn’t ready to admit it just yet. not until he found the perfect way.

that’s when the idea for his cover of "yk" by cean jr. came to life. he poured himself into the project, making sure every note, every movement carried the emotions he wanted you to feel.

when the cover was released, fans were now sure of it.

"i KNEW IT! this is definitely for someone." "the way he’s looking into the camera, like he’s singing to one person... yeah, we get it, jungwon!" "this man is so in love it hurts."

you had no idea what was happening until jay sent you a link to the video with a teasing message.

jay: "guess who you’ve changed forever?"

confused, you tapped on the link, and jungwon’s face filled your screen, the familiar warmth of his voice wrapping around you as he sang and danced. the lyrics hit you like a confession, each line making your heart race.

you quickly scrolled through the fan comments, unable to hide your grin.

"why do i feel like this is a love letter?" "jungwon’s not slick, something’s going on..." "we have eyes, jungwon... and ears." "this is basically a soft launch."

jay: "told you. he’s been acting different since you came along."

your heart fluttered as you typed out a message to jungwon.

you: "so... about that cover you just released?"

a few seconds later, your phone lit up again.

jungwon: "ah, i guess you saw it..."

you could almost picture him—shy, probably running his hand through his hair, unsure if he should fully admit it.

you: "you know, the lyrics are very... pointed. was it for anyone in particular?"

a longer pause. you waited. finally, his reply came in.

jungwon: "it was for you. i wanted to say it... in a way i knew you’d understand."

you felt your heart skip a beat, warmth spreading through you as you read his message. of course, he had to make it even sweeter.

you: "well, thank you. i wouldn’t mind a live version."

you chuckled, expecting a coy response, maybe something playful. but almost instantly, a new message flashed across your screen.

jungwon: "on my way."

your breath caught as you stared at your phone. before you could even process what he said, your heart raced, imagining him already grabbing his keys and heading straight to you.

you smiled, excitement bubbling up inside. if his cover was that amazing, you could only imagine what it would feel like hearing it live, just for you.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. a/n: i both love ai and hate it. right now, i love it for bringing me this cover of "yk". ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

[wooeo]

Hi!! I saw your request open ^^ I just want to request an ateez member!reader in wanteez (any episode will do) but if you haven't watched it maybe behind the scenes from their mv filming?? Thank you 😚

- 💫

☼ WANTEEZ MOMENTS — ateez x f!member!reader

note, i didn’t know which ep to do so i did moments from a few

ep 1

— wooyoung thought about the question for a moment, “i think (name),, she’s not gonna run,”

hongjoong nodded, “hm. she hates running,”

4th transfer student, (full name)

#VeryPolite #ThePerfectStudent

“what warm weather we’re having today,” you commented, walking along the path. your uniform shirt was tucked into your skirt, a shoulder bag hanging by your side. the cameras followed you as you walked, “i hope there’s something nice for lunch,”

before you rounded the corner a guy in the same uniform as you walked towards you with his hands in his pockets. a few steps behind him came a hoard of boys running, screaming at you to run.

you held back a laugh and stepped to the side, so they could run past you. a few tried to pull you along but you evaded with a grin.

you laughed as they ran past you before walking after them with peppy steps. you ended up besides the first boy who had walked towards you, “eunkwon?” you read his name tag, “nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself with a bow, him mirroring you.

“you’re almost late!” the teacher shouted, “you!” he pointed at you, “who are you? i’ve never seen you before!”

you held back a laugh, smiling politely instead. you bowed politely, hands folded in front of you, “hello. i’m a transfer student. today’s my first day here,”

“ah how polite,” he said hello as well, “go ahead,”

(name) attends school successfully

“i don’t run. i hate it,” you said, when asked why you didn’t. arm wrapped around wooyoung’s. you chuckled, smoothing down you braided hair, “i think it would take a zombie apocalypse for me to run,”

ep 3

— “did you play dodgeball in school?” one of the boys asked you.

“only when we had mixed gym class,”

jongho spoke up, “noona, the dodgeball incident,”

“what’s that?” yunho asked,

you let out a laugh at the memory as all the boys listened.

“we sometimes had gym class with the boys and we would play dodgeball. you know how whenever a girl gets the ball, they boys start yelling and screaming?”

wooyoung chuckled, leaning against your arm.

“i hated it, so whenever i got the ball and they’d start shouting, i’d walk to the front line and roll it over. i told the other girls to do the same, until the boys caught on and stopped yelling.”

“did you give them the ball then?”

“yeah,”

the all burst out laughing. chuckling along, you stumbled a bit as wooyoung leaned more of his weight on you.

“i didn’t want to play in the first place. i just did it cause i had to,”

ep 9

— the boys shuffled in, laughing quietly, “(name)~” seonghwa called out in a hushed tone.

you reacted with a quiet hum, eyes closed.

“how are you feeling?”

“tired,” your voice was a low whisper. curling your body into itself, “you’re loud,”

yunho chuckled, “cute~”

san’s hand went to your cheek, stroking it gently.

“san,,”

“hm?”

“can we get something to eat?”

quiet laughter was heard but you didn’t react.

“not yet, (name). you’ll have to wait,”

you whined, hiding your face under the blanket.

requests for member!reader stuff is open !!

[hotteoki]

[1:43AM] - b.c.

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

notes: notice the time hehe

it was way too late for chan to be doing a 'chan's room', yet here he was, staring at the zooming words in the chat. giving up on reading the youtube chat, he switched to the bubble app, hoping to interact with some stays.

"chan go to sleep," he read out loud, laughing. "hmm..." he tilted his head, pretending to think, "nah, i like talking to you guys." almost immediately, the chatroom went wild with compliments. chan only responded with a flushed face, "why are you guys so sweet? ah, it's making me nervous now. i feel like i'm on a first date."

a ding of his phone distracted him from the comments. he swiped into the messages app, noticing it was from you. chan giggled, actually giggled, upon seeing your message. stays assumed it was because of them, and chan let it stay that way (pun intended).

'yeah chan, go to sleep.' your text said. simple yet powerful enough to bring out the high-school loverboy out of him. "i've got a friend now who's watching the live, and they're telling me to go to sleep. why are you even watching? stop watching! you see me enough," chan tried to tell you off, waving his finger at the camera menacingly.

'friend?! friend?! FRIEND?! are you breaking up with me, christopher bang?' chan had already known you would say something along the lines of that. you both knew he wasn't ready to announce your relationship yet, not like jyp would allow it anyway. 'yes, i'm dating stays now, sorry love!' with that, he returned to the bubble app, continuing to reply to stays.

attempting to ignore your multiple 'hello?!' 'christopher.' 'get your bum right back here' 'sir.' was difficult with the consisting pinging. but chan made it work. an hour later or so, he grew tired. doing his usual outro, he ended the live.

not even a second later, you swung open the door to his studio, tackling him in his chair. "friend?!" chan laughed at your persistence, hugging your body that was laid on top of him. it was a bit of an uncomfortable position, given his chair could only lean back so far, but neither of you cared.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller microfic band au pt3

heyyy pt3 is here yayyy

I haven’t rlly read it thru again and I’m feeling pretty tired today so if there’s a quality dip that’s why but also we have some nice Barty POV which I find easier to write sooo balances out ig

also we have some Marlene in this one (u can thank @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl because I wasn’t gonna put her in but she loves Marls [not that I don’t] to and yk she’s the boss so 🫡🫡🫡 Marlene is in the fic and I’m actually glad bc I love her part in this)

oh also Reg is autistic in this [in my mind] so when I mention him wearing headphones it’s bc he wears headphones on public transport/often in public/during gigs to help block noise <3

oh also all the skittles have matching nail polish and little tattoos on their wrists (idk if I actually mention it here but just so u have it in ur mind)

Tags for ppl that (I think?) wanted to be tagged <3 : @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @picklerab23 @lady-stardust-incarnate @always-reading @no-names-work @y0url0verb0y @2bluetwo85 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lulublack90 @nikholascrow (please please do tell me if you don’t want to be tagged bc idm and obviously won’t be upset but I just don’t want to tag ppl that don’t actually want to be tagged so I’m just sort of guessing by who commented last time so um yeah)

Link to previous part

link to part one

link to next part

(Cw: lil bit of homophobia in here sorry)

***

By the time the train arrived at their station both Barty and Evan had dozed off. Arms wrapping around each other, bodies curled into one another like a jigsaw puzzle. Evan didn’t wake up as gently as he fell asleep though because he was woken by Regulus kicking his seat aggressively. Once he finally opened his eyes he turned to face him. He was wearing his headphones, big and black originally but covered in splodges of spray paint from when Barty had offered to ‘customise‘ them for Regulus. He’d pushed them back though, now that the majority of people has filtered out of the little compartment.

“Hurry up and get your stuff.”

Regulus ordered before following Pandora and Dorcas who had already left.

Evan turned and tapped Barty gently to wake him up. Then when that didn’t work he shook him till he opened his eyes with a start. 

It took Barty a moment to realise where he was but even once he did he just grumbled.

“Ev don’t make me get up, please.”

He pouted, eyes wide and dilated in some kind of cheap attempt at cuteness.

“Come on you know you have to get up baby- Barty!”

Evan gaped, realising his mistake just too late. A slip of the tongue and he’d gone and fucked everything up.

“D’you just call me baby?”

A grin spread on Barty’s face and he poked Evan gently and laughed.

“You’ve been single too long Rosier.”

“You- you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad, baby?”

Barty winked, clicking his tongue as he got up and shuffled past Evan with a wicked smirk.

•••

Barty was going insane. 

Evan had called him baby. Baby. And fuck his reaction had been visceral. But like…in a good way? It made him want to bite down on something hard but that thing was the muscles on Evan’s arms. Or bruise something but that thing was Evan’s neck…with a hickey or two. 

Something about the way it had slipped out so naturally, so warmly. It just made Barty’s heart flutter. Made him want to grab Evan and shake the sense out of him enough to like Barty. Something along the lines of ‘kiss me, ruin me, dear God I’m begging you.’ Ah well, nothing you can’t really do about these kinds of situations except get on with it. Lying was something Barty had gotten very good at from a young age and not stopped since. Some might call it acting but those were the types of people who were just trying to convince themselves they were good and moral. Barty didn’t really care enough about that kind of stuff to bother. White lies this and how it contrasts with malicious lies that, like someone trying to section off a gradient in two. You can’t, it’s all the same monochrome blur in the end. 

Barty was lost in this little daydream when he heard Pandora roar.

“WHAT?!”

Now Pandora didn’t often roar, maybe laugh maniacally every now and then yes, but yell? Scream? That was never her type of thing. Save for some rare occasions that Barty could probably count on one hand. Pandora yelling meant it was time to stop daydreaming about Evan’s curls or Evan’s hands with their chipped green nail polish or Evan’s fucking tight t shirts. Yeah time to stop thinking about that and listen up. So he did.

“I do not intend to offend anyone by it.”

Riddle raised his hands up defensively with a cheap sleazy smile that immediately made Barty dislike him.

“I’m just saying that this venue prides itself on a distinct lack of…untoward behaviour. It’s not a massive deal, I think your lead and backup singers can use separate microphones for two nights of a six month tour. 

“What the fuck man?”

Barty stepped forward immediately hands curling into fists, Riddle was pretty short, he could definitely take him if that’s what it came to.

“Barty stop, that isn’t the right way to solve things. Come on let’s just- let’s come back later ok? See if we can talk to someone else, not this piece of shit.”

Dorcas spat out the last three words as she pulled Barty back to the group.

He was going to argue till he felt Evan put a hand on his shoulder, instead he just left Evan guide him away after the rest of the group.

“We’ll figure it out ok?”

“Fucking- Ev we can’t play there. They’re fucking homophobic.”

“Barty the O2 has been your dream since-“

“I DONT BLOODY CARE!”

“Barty shut the fuck up. I said we’ll talk about it and we will, we will figure it out but stop acting like a goddamn CHILD.”

Barty looked over at Evan who had his teeth bared, slightly wild look in his eyes. He was seething too, clearly. Just more mature than Barty.

“Ok, yeah.”

He breathed in.

“I’m sorry Ev.”

“Hey it’s alright. It’s just important the band shows a united front against this you know? We can’t split up or in fight because then, well then we all lose.”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right Rosie. But we will do something.”

“I promise you they’re not getting away with this.”

Evan nodded. He tossed a hand over Barty’s shoulder, pulling him in just a little bit closer as they walked. Barty wasn’t complaining. 

•••

“You don’t get it Marls, we can’t just not play the O2. We’d lose way too much money off it, probably too much to be able to continue with the rest of the tour. Plus venues will think we’re unreliable and might cancel or pull out. Riddle is such a fucking dick, he only told us when we went there for a tech practice literally today.”

“Fuck yeah that’s shitty.”

Marlene was sat next to Barty on the floor of his hotel room, helping him repaint his nails. The entire band had them matching, a bright toxic green, his had started to fade though. 

“What if you just…ignore them? Do it anyway?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like they can drag us off stage mid performance.”

“Not without exposing their homophobia.”

“Still…I wanna make a statement. Something big you know? Show them they can’t straight wash us.”

Marlene looked up at Barty, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I might have an idea then.”

•••

Evan was sat in an alcove in the hotel corridor watching Regulus patiently braid and unbraid Pandora’s hair on the sofa opposite him. It calmed them both down whenever they were stressed. And Barty and Marlene, locked up together in Barty’s hotel room. Both raging homosexuals dead set on never following rules talking amongst themselves just before the biggest gig of the band’s history? Yeah that was a reason to be stressed. That’s when he heard the tell tale clump of Barty’s docs down the corridor. And he was walking with purpose.

As soon as he came into view Evan noticed the way his eyebrows were knotted together yet his eyes were glimmering with excitement. Evan had no clue what Barty was going to say next but it wasn’t that.

“Marlene thinks I should kiss you.”

Barty announced and Evan dropped his jaw, staring at him agape.

“What?”

“And I agree with her.”

“What?”

***

OK HOPE U LIKED IT

xxx BYEEEE

pt4 probs gonna come soon bc I swear this fic has a life of its own

[verilly]

Hiiiiii, so I read a fic where Aqua went to his old home and his daughter is all grown up. He had a wife in his previous life and I want your take on it please. But I read your rules that you won’t do requests that involved kids and marriage so I’m not sure if this counts. If it does, then I’m just happy that I get to share this concept I saw and see what you think about it :)

No cuz I actually really like this idea… so, I’ll let it slide

Logically: Reader will be older than Aqua because… yeah. It works like that so…~~ I’m also having a hard time like placing what age they’d be because like I don’t know how easy it’s be for reader to believe him that like “yeah bro I’m your dead dad that got reincarnated” so I just…???? But I don’t want to make them too old either because Mr doctor man was like ~~32? So like.

Also the doctor is a loser man with my gf bcs he’s an idol otaku so like that would just be very unbelievable if he had like a whole thing but I’ll stop

I don’t think I have the time or emotional capacity to write a full fic for it right now, but I’ll write bullet points…

Aqua/The Doctor (Goro) with Past-Daughter!Reader

SPOILERS AHEAD.

For the sake of my brain’s health, I’ll say that you were 7 when Goro went ‘missing’.

Which would mean that he was 25 when you were conceived. And the perfect age where you could have some sort of recollection of him in your life.

When Aqua goes back to his hometown, originally it was intention to find his old body’s corpse, however, the old nurse he used to work with that had his child slipped his mind.

“Goro Amamiya, has their been any information on him after he went missing?” Aqua asked, the person at the front desk of the hospital shook her head, “Ah, I see…” Aqua turned his head to look back at Akane who was sitting on a lounge chair, fiddling with her phone, “What about Nurse Nozaki?”

The Nurse does not actually have a canon name I could find, so I just came up with something! (The “Nurse” character im talking about it the woman who was commenting on Goro’s obsession with Ai and love for Sarina.)

Another addition for this story is that the Nurse is about a year older than Goro, meaning she was 26 when she gave birth to the reader. And in current time, she would be about ~50 years old.

“Oh! Nurse Nozaki left to take a well needed vacation with her husband two days ago, you just missed her!” The worker paused for a second and put a finger on their chin, “What is it that you needed to talk to her about?”

“It’s a… family matter I wanted to talk to her about.” Aqua lied through his teeth, though he wasn’t directly lying. After all, that was his past daughter he was trying to find.

“Well then, Nurse Nozaki has her kid live close by, their somewhere in town here.” The worker rummaged through the computer, “Ah, here. Important information for Nurse Nozaki. I’ll give you her line number and…”

Aqua hates the way the worker didn’t double check on his true intentions, but he was still grateful on how he could still see his daughter thanks to that. He did the math in his head, if his “daughter” was 7 when he went missing, then now you’d be a fully fleshed adult.

He considered just letting his past life go and leave you be, but he still wanted to be able to see what you’re up to. Who you grew up to be, fuck, even if you even remembered your father.

Aqua ordered Akane to stay back, but to his dismay, she came along with him anyway. He quickly snuck the address into his phone, and followed the route until he saw you standing outside making a phone call.

He couldn’t be sure that it was you at first, but he could take his chances, after all, he wasn’t planning on staying here for too long. Though, the person standing before him did look like you. Same hair color, same eyes, same marks on the body. What made it more evident was your personality, it wasn’t easy examining it from a distance, but the phone call seemed to be enough for him.

It was you.

Now, how should he approach you?

“Akane,” Aqua tilted his head to look at her, “How would you approach someone you used to be really close to but… grew apart as life went on?”

“Oh! Hmm, let’s see… it really depends on their personality—“

I’m gonna cut off Akane there because, hah, I don’t think I can fit the perfect personality for everyone so yeah.

But Aqua would lie to get to know you, pretend that he was a childhood friend of yours that you just so happened to have forgotten.

“My name is Aqua, your mom gave me your address. We played together when we were younger.” Aqua lied.

“Oh! Aqua! Yeah, that rings a bell.” You lie right back, he didn’t know if that’s just how you always acted or if you were just trying to be kind, “What brings you here?”

“I just thought that we could catch up with each other, that’s all.” He sat on the curb in front of you, which you follow quickly after, “Like… how is your love life going?”

You went on to explain things going on with your life, even though you weren’t quite sure if he was an actual stranger or someone you once knew, you still felt somewhat of a bond.

Then Aqua went on to investigate you on his old self, more importantly, how you felt about him.

“Oh, well, my father has been missing for 17 years now. He’s probably dead, but… I always thought he’d come back home.” You get teary eyed, “He never did though so… I guess I lost hope. Either that or he did just run away, but I doubt he’d do that.”

“… He sounds like a good man.” Aqua’s eyes darken, he couldn’t dare to look you in the eyes, “And you sound like a good girl. I’m sure we would’ve come back to you.”

“Thanks, friend.”

A few hours later, Akane and Ruby would find Goro’s body.

Guess who was their to comfort you?

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

Akane is best girl btw…

Masterlist on profile or #cendriilon masterlist

[casualsnickers]

Month of Emmet Quick Write #19

Prompt #19: Rose

Emmet accompanies Elesa to get some secondary opinions from Gym Leader Burgh about some fashion designs for an upcoming fashion show. While Burgh is regularly eccentric, Emmet is reminded exactly why some trainers get unnerved in Burgh's presence. Clown-to-clown communication.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

“Arrrrgh! It’s all just so frustrating!” Elesa leaned back in her chair, tapping one heel against the tiled floor as she flipped through the fashion catalog in her lap. “Can’t have anything nice, can I?”

“Nope.” Emmet sat just a ways away from his friend, one hand stroking the fuzz along his Galvantula’s back. Elesa had invited him to a meetup with Gym Leader Burgh to discuss outfit inspirations behind a fashion show that was due to premier at the end of the month. The topic? Bugs. Lots and lots of bug-themed outfits. Emmet didn’t really have an eye for fashion. He had only come because Elesa had begged him to and because it had been a long time since he had last spokén with Burgh. “Commuters can be… quite rude, Elesa. You should know this by now.”

“Well, I know that! But I mean, half of the comments I received for these specific dresses-” she pointed a thumb at five colorful dress designs- “were nothing but negative criticism. Like, I get that normal people wouldn’t wear them, but I got literally no constructive criticism! Everybody was just bagging on them. It really brought down my mood, you know?”

“And that’s why we are here to speak with Burgh?”

“Yeah.” Elesa sighed, one hand resting against her head. “Burgh’s the only guy I know that gets what fashion is about. I just want his secondary opinion before I move onto the next step in actually getting these clothes onto the runway.”

“Aren’t your gym trainers models too? Have they seen your designs?”

“They have as a matter of fact! They’re particularly fond of my designs for the Leavanny and Vespiquen line. Scolipede too. I’d be surprised if they disliked them.” 

The door to the large studio both had been sitting in was swung open, Gym Leader Burgh striding in as an entourage of bug-type pokémon followed him. Clad in his usual colorful getup, Burgh bowed and gestured for his pokémon to disperse. Upon sighting both Emmet and Elesa waiting for him, Burgh fixed his messy hair and strolled over, a pleasant smile upon his face as he proffered both of them freshly-cut roses. Elesa’s was yellow. Emmet’s was white.

“I thought I would be expecting you at around this time, Elesa.” He shook Elesa’s outstretched hand, his eyes seeming to brighten when they landed upon Emmet. “Ah, and of course, you’re here as well, Emmet. What brings you here? I thought you didn’t like Castelia all that much.”

“I don’t,” Emmet admitted truthfully, keeping his eyes inside the studio and not on the dizzying view directly outside the window of Burgh’s art gallery. “I am escorting Elesa today.” Emmet nonchalantly shook the hand Burgh proffered his way, gesturing for the man to take a seat directly beside him. “It is good to see you, Burgh.” In a lowered comment, Emmet whispered, “Talk to me later. I have something for you.”

Burgh’s eyes narrowed, his own smile widening. “Oh? Really? A gift just for me? Why, you shouldn’t have! What did you bring me- “

“Can you two stop flirting over there?”

Emmet immediately choked on his spit and swiveled to glare at Elesa. “We are friends, Elesa.”

“That’s true. We’re fellow bug-type enthusiasts. Nothing more.” Burgh then grinned mischievously, setting one hand upon Emmet’s shoulder. “Ah, but it would be fun to do that prank from years back.”

Emmet blinked, carding his fingers through his hair. “The one where people thought we were dating when we coupled together during Accumula’s Annual Bug Hunt a few years ago. I am familiar. Those were… strange times.”

“The press can be so easily manipulated,” Burgh reminisced. “It’s always fun when you get to mess with them.” Burgh then cleared his throat, crossing his legs. “Ah. But Elesa. I’m here for you. And on such short notice. What can I do for you, honeycomb?”

Elesa immediately launched into her woes, showing the gym leader each and every bug-related design that she had come up with in the span of numerous months, both on paper and on a digital tablet that she had brought with her. Emmet was quite fond of a few of them. 

One design featured a Butterfree skirt design with a flowy silver and back hem that lengthened in the back. Elesa had also designed a sharp-looking shirt and slacks combo- red and black- that was inspired by Scizor. Emmet’s personal favorite had been a red and white vest with silver curling patterns etched into the leather, inspired by the Volcarona lineage. It reminded him all too much of when Elesa had first started her modeling gig and had forced both Ingo and Emmet to model her designs.

“What do you think, Burgh?” Elesa asked plainly. “Should I fix these or move them into the second stage and make prototypes of them? I know you’re not a fashion designer, but you are a great artist.”

Burgh clicked his tongue. “Flattery will get you nowhere. But. Hmm. Well… to be honest, all of them are wonderful.” Burgh picked up the curling dress mimicking a Leavanny, his eyes softening. “You did such a wonderful job in incorporating pokémon designs- picking out dominant features too. I think these will do well on the runway.” He then took another look at the modifiable designs featured on Elesa’s tablet. “Of course, you can also accessorize. Personally, if you’re going for bug-type apparel, I think you should incorporate some undertones of things like flowers, pollen, and nectar to better sell the idea.”

“Like these roses?” Emmet was careful to handle the barbed stem of the rose Burgh had given him.

“Yes, you’re precisely right. And Elesa? I wouldn’t listen to your naysayers so quickly. Some people just don’t possess an artful eye like we do.”

Elesa huffed, smiling. “Okay… Okay, I’ll take that into consideration. Gosh, that’s a load off my mind. You have no idea how many people sent me comments telling me that they could come up with better designs using artificial intelligence which by the way is banned from being used in contest entries.”

Burgh’s expression immediately soured. “AI? Eugh.” The man leaned forward in his chair, fiddling with the stem of his own yellow rose. “I don’t hate AI. It’s a lovely tool to build off of. It’s just that too many people think that they can replace the sheer ingenuity of humans with the likes of a machine that- frankly- doesn’t even know how to draw hands or feet correctly.”

“AI is useful to some degree,” Emmet agreed, nodding his head. “AI serves a biiig help in the subway for the WiFi trains. Keeps our challengers sharp and quick on their feet. But I could never think of replacing human-to-human battles with only artificial battles. They are not serious and they are not fun.”

“Yeah. Seems like not only a decade ago, AI didn’t even exist. Can you believe it?” Elesa’s eyes shot down to her designs. She frowned. “Who knows? Maybe AI will take over designing fashion in the future. The more we develop it, the more it seems to worm its way into every nook and cranny and niche.”

Burgh made a strangled noise in his throat, carefully discarding his rose as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You remind me all too much of a saying I give to my art students and myself whenever we face an art block.”

“Well, I’m facing a design block right now,” Elesa commented snidely, turning her yellow rose in her fingers. “Let me hear your speech, Burgh. Give me some inspiration.” Elesa then brightened, pulling out her phone. “No, hold on. Let me get this on a recording. I get way too many of these blocks. Just one moment.”

Burgh only smiled, his eyes narrowed to slits as he steepled his fingers together. And when Elesa finally pulled up her phone- having accidentally tabbed over to her live feed- Burgh seized the opportunity and grabbed at Elesa’s phone, his eyes manic. “...This is a message to all artists out there. If you draw, if you paint- Whatever you do, listen,” Burgh launched in, his tone breathless. “The next time some AI bro or keyboard warrior comes to your comments and is like ‘I could do better with AI, I’m a real artist’- Do you know how you should respond?” He looked directly at Elesa as he spoke, his teeth flashing as he smiled. “Draw them pregnant.” Another long pause. “You have that power. This is not a threat of violence,” Burgh chuckled, picking petals off of his rose as he stared directly into Elesa’s bewildered gaze. “This is a promise.”

[starwritesstuff]

i would do anything for you to love me like i'm an american hero

(Chap 1)

yeah yeah yeah this is a rainbow kitten surprise song title i can't help myself- i did draw quite a bit of inspo from this song anyhooooozzllessss i put this on ao3 but i figure since i be writing stuff here too i'll post it here.

summary: You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.” He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh? ---- You're pathetic and in love with your best friend. How do you love a ghost?

word count: 3,127

rating: this chapter is g rated buuuttt there is eventual smut so i cannot recommend minors reading this fic- also pls brace yourselves for a lotta angst i'm rly gonna PUT THEM THROUGH A BLENDER (insert me rubbing my hands together like some kinda Machiavellian freak)

The first time you meet Leon it’s in a cafe. He’d bumped into you in line. Leon muttered a sheepish apology and you thought it had been downright adorable.

You’d flirted shamelessly with him- how could you not? With looks like that, the near innocent way he had said sorry. He’d just stood there, a bit awkward, and you’d thought- god what a cutie.

After that you had started to see him a lot more frequently at that cafe and, well, you hadn’t been a regular. But you became one since that first interaction.

It’s not for another month that you get the courage to do more than make flirtatious comments- though he’s always a good sport about those.

“Anyone ever told you you’re kind of an awkward guy?” You ask him, sipping on your hot latte. Eyeing him. He startles, turning a very blue gaze your way.

“Ah, yeah.” He laughs, a dry thing, and rubs the back of his neck. “Might have been once or twice.” Oh could he get any more sweet? He reminds you of a puppy.

You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.”

He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh?

The two of you are standing in the lobby, someone shuffling past you to get to the line. Right. You’re in the way.

You turn back to Leon, grinning. “Do you want to come sit with me? Save me from boring reports?” You watch a flush settle along the back of his neck, crawling up to turn the tips of his ears red. You’re so in trouble.

Leon returns your grin with teeth that are slightly crooked. Furthering your deep descent into your crush.

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

If you paced any more you’d likely wear a tread into the carpet.

It had been months, you think, since you heard from Leon. More since you last saw him.You knew he had an unorthodox job. Something dangerous. Leon always returned a little more banged than when he left.

You didn’t expect Leon, who was more or less a sweet, bashful guy, to have a job like that. But he always, always managed to make contact when he was gone. Whatever had happened you just hoped, wished, prayed to what deity would listen that he was okay. That he wasn’t dead. That he’d come back, even if he was banged up.

You force yourself to quit your relentless back and forth. Tea. You wanted- needed some tea. That honey chamomile you’d gotten last week at the store. You had some clover honey pops to go with it, if you could find them. You tap your fingers impatiently on the stove handle, waiting for the kettle to boil. When it does, you ignore the shakiness of your hands as you pour it over two bags. You like your tea strong.

Walking over to your couch, collapse. Curse loudly when you slosh some of that hot tea fresh off the stove on your fingers. You stick your pointer and middle finger in your mouth, wincing at the stinging pain. Gotta turn something on the TV, distract yourself. You settle on The Great British Bake Off. Stupid stuff, but you liked the friendly competition. And you got to see some pretty neat creations.

You settle into the couch, worn and comfy from years of use, like most of the things in your home. What can you say, you liked homey, comfy things. You draw the fuzzy blanket draped over the couch to you. Wrap yourself up. Sip your tea. And watch Paul Hollywood stare with his weird blue eyes.

It’s actually doing a great job of taking your mind off of Leon. British accents and pastries have that effect, you think. The heat kicks on and you take your sweater off, leaving you in your thin camisole. Too hot for blankets, sweaters, and the heat on. You pillow your head on the arm of the couch.

You don’t know what wakes you. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you have this awful feeling of being watched. Your living room was dark, your TV having gone into that energy saving mode it does when it’s on too long. You stay very still, heart pounding. There’s a creak and you know someone is there.

Could be one of two things because honestly, the only person that could access your home was Leon. Or, conversely, a burglar. Murderer. Whatever.

“Leon?” That seems the most obvious choice. You slowly sit up, rubbing gritty sleep from your eyes.

“Yeah.” Comes his husky reply.

“Christ. What time is it?”

“Just after one in the morning.” Soft light floods the room; he’s turned on one of your floor lamps. You shove a hand through your hair. You slept all of four hours probably. Your mouth is fuzzy and you run your tongue over them. Tastes nasty, too. You must’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. You hate doing that.

He comes over, to sit by you on the couch and god he does not look good. He’s got a cut over the bridge of his nose, deep purple coloring under his eyes and his straight brows are hung low, scrunching over his nose.

“So” you start. Stop. Take a drink of cold tea to wet your throat. This was awkward. Your locks had been changed. Did he pick them?

He isn’t looking at you, rather he’s looking at the floor. His hands hang loosely between his knees, elbows planted on his thighs. Leon looks exhausted. You had meant to rage at him a little when you saw him next. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that right now. Not when he looks like this.

“Long trip?” You settle on. Leaning back under your blanket, cradling that cold cup of tea in your hands. Just for something to do.

“Something like that”, he grunts. Opens his mouth, then closes it again. He shakes his head and for a wild moment you’re reminded of a dog shaking its floppy ears. You say nothing, turn your attention back to your tea. It’s tense. You rub your finger along the rim of the cup.

“I suppose I owe you an apology.” Leon’s squinting at you now. He looks unsure, like maybe you have the answers. You shrug instead. Your shoulders get stuck up by your ears though, hunching. You force them down.

“If you want.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Leon’s eyes slide over to you. He doesn’t seem familiar to you right now. There’s no boyish light in his eyes, no silly puppy look to his features. He moves with a deliberate slowness, nothing like the eagerness you’re used to. Something’s happened, you know it has.

You clear your throat.

“If you want me to leave, I can go.” Startled you look at him. “No. No, I was just… thinking about if you’d picked my lock.” It was only half of a lie, anyway.

Leon snorts. “Should consider locking the deadbolt. It’s there for a reason.” Ah, right. The deadbolt. You never use. You guess locks on a door handle are probably much easier to get through than a deadbolt.

“Look, I know it’s been awhile.” Leon says, shoving his elbows off his thighs and letting out a long breath. You fidget with your cup some more. “It has.”

You really have no right to feel this way. The two of you are… Best friends. Close, but not close in the ways to warrant this irrational anger you have. You feel almost abandoned. You cringe inwardly at the feeling. Abandoned. Yeah, what are you, some rescue animal dropped off at the shelter?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon’s jaw clench, the muscle fluttering under sallow skin.

You shift under your blanket, eyes bleary, focusing on some faraway point in the living room that you can't really see. You grumble about needing to find your glasses. A few seconds later, Leon hands them to you. You take them, careful to not brush his fingers. You don’t look at him when you quietly murmur your thanks. You wish that he would say something, or you would just open your mouth and say what you feel. Something to relieve the tension in the room.

“I’m surprised to see you. For a while there I wasn’t sure…” You trail off. You don’t want to finish the sentence.

He cracks a smile. It looks worn at the edges, a little unsure. “I wasn’t… I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.” Your shoulders hunch again at that. He probably wouldn’t have been welcome had you known he was going to come here, if you were honest. Ah, have you mentioned you hate this? Things haven’t been weird and tense between the two of you since, well, ever.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Am I?”

You pick at the blanket. “Of course.” You blow a breath out, blow it up and it stirs the hair off your forehead.

You grab the TV remote, turn it on.

“I was watching The Great British Bake Off.” You say when he doesn’t reply. The two of you sit for awhile. The TV lights flickering over your faces. You don’t know about Leon, but you’re not really watching. Not really, no. You were sneaking glances at him, taking his still stiff posture. How his hands haven’t moved from his thighs. He looks poised to run, you think.

The episode ends. Starts a new one. You think maybe the not talking happening between the two of you is going to drive you crazy. But you don’t open your mouth. Don’t try to pick at this weird shell he’s created, retreated into. You probably should. He’s your best friend. You should want to try to be there for him.

You’re scared. This new version of Leon feels like he doesn’t want to be here. With you. The old Leon would be excitedly telling you about blowing shit up and shyly asking if you wanted to get coffee at that cafe. As if you’d say no, despite the many times the two of you have kept up the tradition. Now he seems to not know what to do with you. How to be here.

You rub your nose. Pull your knees up. Tuck your hair behind your ears. You know you’re fidgeting. You can’t help it. You’ve never felt this- this weird next to him. Okay, maybe weird isn’t the right word. You certainly feel strange around him, you’re not a fool, you know why. But this is a new strangeness. It’s born of an insecurity that you never thought you’d have.

“You don’t… have to stay. You know? I won’t be mad if you have, like, other places you wanna be.” You wonder if that comes out as needy as you feel. Leon turns his gaze to you, something complicated flicking through his eyes. Quick enough that you don’t quite catch it, not quick enough that you don’t notice it and wonder.

“No, no. Sorry. I’m tired.” Leon’s tone gives nothing away. But it sounds like an excuse to your ears. Does he… pity you? Feel obligated to you? To stay? You try to grin at him, like you always do, like you used to. “Sure. Sure, yeah, I imagine. Um, the guest bed is always made up. You know, just in case.” And it had been. It stayed made up since the last time you had left. Leon huffs out a near silent laugh. “Is it?”

“Yeah. You kinda made a habit of crashing here, you know. So I just… kept it. I mean, I wash the sheets and stuff.” You hurry to explain that last part. You’d taken to keeping extras of things around the house for him. Toothbrush, towel, shirts and boxers and socks. It was all very domestic, blah blah blah. Your heart clenches.

Leon shifts in his spot. Toes off his boots. You wrinkle your nose.

“Walking around in my house with your nasty boots, huh” you chide him, teasing. You get a flash of a genuine smile at that. Your heart unclenches. Just a little.

“Sorry” he says. He doesn’t sound very sorry. In fact, you’d say he sounds a little mischievous. Leon holds his boots out to you. “Wanna see how nasty they are?” You squeal, smack at them. “You’re gross, Kennedy.”

He laughs, sets them by the couch. “You’re fond of telling me.”

You raise a brow at him. "Do you have to put them there? You could, I don't know, stick them. On the shoe rack. That is literally right by my door." Leon shrugs.

“Easier to just take them off here.” He teases. But he gets up, sets the boots on the rack. Holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “See? I put them away like a good boy.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle laughter.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a good boy if it came up and slapped you in the face.” You poke at him. “You’re a menace.”

Leon levels you with a kind of look that has your giggles freezing in your throat. Just shy of indecipherable, poorly hidden heat. You hadn’t really thought about the words when they came out, just enjoying the banter with him. You quickly look away. No way were you taking any time to pick apart that look. Adjust your mental position, firmly sticking yourself in the “Leon’s closest friend” category.

“It’s getting a bite late for me,” you say, fighting to keep your voice from wavering. “I think I’m going to actually go to bed.” You think you see a flash of disappointment cross his pretty features. But he stands with you, stretching. T-shirt riding up, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of pale skin, toned. Light scars littered amongst moles.

You turn your head away, give Leon a light pat on the shoulder. “See you in the morning? Let’s go to our cafe.”

“Sure, been awhile. D’you think they remember me?”

“Hard to forget, don’t’cha think?”

Leon laughs at that. Does that thing where he awkwardly shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. He needs a haircut, you think. It’s gotten over-long. Makes you think of a little emo boy.

“I’ll wake you when I’m up.” He was saying, jerking you out of your musings.

“No later than 8am, mister.” You warn him. Well aware that Leon was an early riser, no matter how little he slept. Leon puts a warm hand on the top of your head. “I promise, I will not wake you before 8am.” He says with mock solemnity. You suck your teeth in response, moving to knock his hand off your head. Retreat a few steps towards your room.

“Good. See that you don’t. Goodnight, Kennedy.” You call, escaping to your room. Try to calm your racing heart. Leon didn’t often initiate physical contact with you, and that was fine, really you preferred it that way. Because when he does, your brain fizzles out. Nervous system goes haywire.

You climb into bed, thoughts shifting to Leon’s earlier behavior. How tense things had been. It was the first time you felt that uncomfortable with him. The two of you were normally much more cohesive. You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever he’d come back from was different. Different from what he usually dealt with. Though, you know you likely won’t get to know. You generally weren’t privy to specifics with him.

You flip to your side, restless. Drag the covers your head, clutching a pillow close to your chest. And what was that ridiculous reaction earlier? Leon had looked… Hot? Sexy? Wanting? Your traitorous brain supplies. Surely not, not because of someone like you. Sure you flirted with him, had built a silly friendship with that flirtation as the foundation, but it didn’t mean anything. You’re, well, you. And Leon’s Leon. He was… magnetic, a little stupid, a little cheesy, but you’d been drawn to that. And he was pretty- really, you hadn’t seen a man so beautiful. All high cheekbones, full lips, delicate brows. And you weren’t convinced he didn’t use mascara or eyeliner, or something with lashes like those.

 It hurt sometimes, looking at him. 

You weren’t typically an insecure person. You’d even say that, sometimes, you might even be a bit big for your britches. But your friendship (you refuse to call it a relationship) with Leon left you feeling a little inadequate at times. That feeling had crawled into your sternum, made a little nest among your heart and viscera the first time he’d come back from a trip. You wished you could grab it, like it was one of those prickly things that attached themselves to your socks, and pluck it out. But it was there to stay. 

You jerk the covers off your head, the space having gotten hot, humid and somewhat hard to breathe. You roll onto your back, dragging the pillow with you. You wonder what Leon was doing. Was he tossing and turning? Punching his pillow softer, to fit his head? Or had he just conked out, exhausted. Sometimes, when he stayed over, he’d get nightmares. And you’d find his silhouette in your doorway, shyly asking if he could sit with you for a bit. First time he did it you thought you might shit your pants. You had scolded him, told him to make a little noise. That waking up to him just hanging in the doorway like some kinda freaky serial killer was just terrifying. Since then, Leon had always made sure to purposely creak your creaky floorboards, to swing the door open noisily.

Not tonight, though. It was quiet. The overhead fan was the only sound you could hear. It was too quiet, one of those nights that made you wish you had a TV in your room, so you could stick something on. The silence just made your thoughts louder, screaming, ringing in your head. Knowing Leon was just in the other room, yards away, doing whatever it is he does at night, knotted your stomach. Quickened your breath. Made that thing in your chest ache. 

You forcefully wrangle your melancholy thoughts into submission. It was far too late for any more of it, and you needed some semblance of sleep. You just know Leon’s going to wake you precisely at 8am, just to be difficult. 

[writebackatya]

DuckTales Team Ideas Part 2: Your Team Ideas

So recently I made a post about some team ideas for the cast of DuckTales. Besides showing off my team ideas that post was made to hear other people’s team ideas and it was successful!

Now originally I thought people were just going to reblog it with their own ideas, but that was a long post so I can see why that didn’t happen. So instead people left comments! Just thought I’d share those comments because we got some cool team ideas

I wanna start with the one that made me kick myself for not even thinking of it! This one comes from @andrewmoocow who suggested Lena, Penumbra, and Gandra

First off! I love all your reasons! The fact that their names all end with an A is the cherry on top of this sundae of a team idea!

Since you didn’t give them a team name I got a couple suggestions: The first name is sorta playing off their names ending in a, they’d be the ‘Ä Team. (Pronounced “ah” cause of the final part of the name)

The second team name is literally a Pink Floyd Album: Dark Side of the Moon. That one I think would work well. Plus I can see all three of them rocking the shirt with that album cover

On the flip side: Webby, Della, and Fenton would make for a great team. Their team name would be Sunny Side Up

Next up comes @tokuvivor (and @shychick-52) who’d love to see the young Junior Woodchucks come together as trio: Huey, Boyd, and Violet. And I agree it would be good. Also yeah, they did write a whole-ass story. And I finished it recently, it was good. Go read it if you like these characters:

Also I’m all for Team Junior Badasses. Dewey, Webby, and Gosalyn would make for a powerful trio that I can see sharing one braincell and I’m all for it

@boingodigitalart had the idea of brining Louie, Goldie, and BOYD to form the Con Crew. Oh the one hand I love this idea for a trio. I can see Louie feeling bad for what happened to BOYD at Doofus’s birthday party and wanting him to feel welcome. I just love the idea of individuals who were once “enemies” now on a team together. (Heck it’s why I wanted Dewey, Gandra, and Webby on a team. After the Split Sword Swanstantine it’d be great to see them work together

But on the other hand, I don’t think BOYD would feel comfortable participating in the schemes Louie and Goldie would do. But that’s what makes an interesting trio. BOYD could easily be the heart/voice of reason of this group so that these guys never go too far. Also I can just hear Goldie saying something along the lines of “Sharpie, you sure you wanna bring the Nanny Cam with us on this scheme?”

Con Crew has a nice ring to it, but may I suggest Con Heir? Cause BOYD’s the heir to the Drake’s fortune? And there’s that movie called Con Air? I never watched that movie, I just like making puns

Last but not least is @shychick-52 who had quite a few ideas:

Okay first off. How dare you make a change to my Spy Team idea! Just kidding. I can see what you’re getting at here, but I beg to differ. Honestly, I think Gandra and Louie would have trouble (at first) getting along. I always felt that if she ever found out about Louie not paying his employees their salary in order to waste it on crappy merchandise without telling them she’d be like “Yeah, I’m not working with this billionaire’s nephew.” But if he was on the Spy Team he could be their guy in the chair

However I guess I would add him to Rebel Squad (Gandra, Gosalyn, and Lena). Louie would be their token white guy

Back to her suggestions, I love Jr Justice Ducks (Gosalyn, BOYD, and Lena). Always down for a superhero team. And the DuckTales universe would have a Teen Titans like team and that would rock

Also. I love this idea for the name alone. Team Orphan: Lena, BOYD, May, and June. May and June definitely need to be a part of more groups. And this would make for a fun team. Seeing BOYD and June interact would be great

Well that’s all I got to share. Thanks again to all the tagged people and their input and team ideas! I’m sure they’ll spark the creativity of the people in the DuckTales fandom!!

Please share any ideas if YOU got any!

[queen-scribbles]

“Aww, you’re blushing. I like that look on you.” for any of your SWTOR babes

A Good Distraction

Literally heard that line in Eisza's voice, so she snagged this one for her and Theron :3 Set somewhere post-KotET and pre-Ossus.

---

“I’m good at what I do, right?”

Theron narrowed his eyes as he looked up from his datapad. For her to ask so out of the blue the second she walked in the room... “This a test?”

Eisza snorted a dark laugh at his dry tone as she flopped down on the couch.  “No.” She rested her head against the arm, one leg along the length of the couch, the other dangling haphazardly off the edge, and started chewing on one of her braids.

She only did that when annoyed. Theron smirked. Ah. “Sniper rematch?”

Eisza grunted an affirmative, brow furrowed in a way that was entirely too adorable for her level of pique.

“He beat you again?”

“I dunno how!!” she groused, pushing herself upright. She glared at him, but Theron knew he wasn’t the problem. “Jorgan’s not a better sniper than me, I can outshoot him, I’ve done it before.” She flopped back, glare now aimed at the ceiling.

“Just not the last... three times.” Poking the wampa might be dangerous--depending on how she took the comment--but Theron had always been a touch reckless.

Eisza made a sound somewhere between a growl and a snort. “...Maybe he’s been getting more practice. He always gets deployed as a sniper, last few missions I’ve done were close quarters and sneakin’ around.”

“So you’re rusty? That’s your argument?” Theron arched a brow.

“No, I-” She growled. “Maybe. I don’t wanna talk about it any more.” She eyed the datapad in his lap. “What’re you working on? I could use a good distraction.”

He shifted it away when she reached for it. “I don’t think this would be any help.”

Eisza narrowed her eyes and looked between him and the datapad now held off over the side of his chair.

Hell.

“What makes you so sure it won’t help?” she asked, scooching closer down the couch. She had that hunter’s look in her eye, and Theron cursed himself for giving her that distraction in the worst way possible--for him, at least.

Karma for that comment, he thought sardonically. “Just not something you need to bother with, Commander.” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth.

Her eyes flared with curiosity. “You’ve never been cagey about datawork before...” 

She’d scooted close enough that when she lunged to grab for the datapad, he didn’t have a prayer of getting out of reach in time. He still tried, resulting in Eisza half-sprawled across his lap as she let out a triumphant Ha! and pulled it from his grasp.

Theron made a grab for it, futile as he knew the effort would be. “Eisza-!”

She grinned as she batted his hand away.  “You really should know better by now.”

He groaned--exaggerated, but not much--and flopped back in defeat.

The first startled gigglesnort came only a few seconds into her perusing the screen. “An adventure holonovel? Not datawork?” she teased, pausing briefly to grin at him again.

If his brain had been working just a little faster, Theron would’ve said something witty and sarcastic to keep her attention on him. But it was stuck somewhere between prepping damage control and the fact his girlfriend was sitting in his lap, one elbow digging into his ribs, and nothing came to him in time.

Eisza read a few lines further and her brows shot up. “A romance adventure?!” This grin was wider, more predatory. “Agent Shan, I wouldn’t have figured you for the type.” 

“Yeah, well-” If his damn brain would work for five seconds so he could come up with a more eloquent retort that would be great. 

“Aw, you’re blushing,” Eisza cooed, tossing the datapad toward the couch and shifting to wrap one arm around his shoulders. “I like that look on you.” She kissed his temple.

“It’s not blushing, it’s plotting revenge,” Theron muttered, even as one arm instinctively settled around her hips.

She chuckled, leaning in close to murmur, “Not often I see you flustered-”

He kissed her. Mostly to shut her up, but there was a part of him that really liked the teasing glint in her green eyes. From the way her fingers dug into his hair, she’d either been anticipating that reaction or at least planned to enjoy it.

“IS this revenge for reminding y-”

“Shh.” Eisza kissed him, hard. “‘M in a good mood now, don’t spoil it.”

Theron chuckled into the kiss, his arm tightening around her waist. “Yes, boss.”

Finally, though, she pulled back and shot him a mischievous smirk. “So. About your taste in literature.”

He groaned. “Eis...” 

“Please, I’m hardly gonna judge you,” she snorted, running her fingers through his hair. “Can almost guarantee I’ve read trashier. It’s just very... not you, and I’m curious how that got started.”

“The way most hobbies do for people in my line of work. Got hurt, going stir-crazy on med-leave, friend gave me a couple holonovels so I wouldn’t get so bored I did something stupid--his words. Took a couple days before I caved, and the first one was a spy thriller I mostly read to see how much they got wrong.” He snorted. “They got a lot wrong. But it also ended on a cliffhanger--”

“The whole novel?! That’s evil.”

“Yeah. So I read the next one. And the next one. And before you knew it, new habit. My friend was very smug.”

“If he got you into something that helps you relax once in a while, I’ll bet he is,” Eisza said dryly. “Maybe I should meet this friend, learn his secret.”

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” Theron shook his head, wincing at the mere thought.

Her hunter’s grin was back. “Now I really wanna meet him.”

“No.” Over my dead body. “So how’d you get into reading trashy romance?”

“Only so much a girl can do for fun on Tatooine, Theron,” Eisza said, giving him a look that said she was allowing the subject change but not forgetting. “I swiped ‘em from my aunt when she was done with ‘em. How’d you get over to romance from thriller?”

And they were back to this conversation being awkward. If she wasn’t sitting in his lap, he would be finding an excuse to bolt. “The spy in those thrillers got a love interest. Those parts at least were... better written, even if that’s not saying much. So when I finished that series, I... branched out.”

She gave him an inscrutable look. “Are you one of those who’s gonna want to... do stuff inspired by that kind ‘a book?”

His face was burning again. “No.”

“Mm, too bad,” Eisza said playfully, tracing a finger along his cheekbone.  “There’s things in a couple I’ve read that might be fun.”

Even as Theron stared at her, trying to find a snarky comeback, her comm beeped.

Eisza glanced at it--”Oh, Lana needs me”--and stole a quick kiss before she started pushing to her feet.

Theron didn’t let go, tugging her back into his lap. “Tell her you’re busy,” he growled, claiming her mouth in a kiss. “Got distracted.” Another kiss.

She laughed into it, her hands cupping his jaw. “You are a very good distraction....” she mumbled.

“And you” --kissed her again-- “are blasted good at what you do. To answer your question.” His thumb rubbed arcs against her cheek, tracing her tattoos. “You’re good at everything.”

Eisza stared at him a moment, tossed her comm on the table, and dragged him onto the couch with her to set about proving him right.

She was good at everything. 

[masschase]

for the ask meme: matt and casey, 55. tracing the lines on the other’s hand :]

This got so long... but then it is me we're talking about 😅

'Touching' prompts list (will accept more!)

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

Heart Line

It really should have been Nyte Blayde night.

It was Friday, after all, and they weren't all the way through their second watch of it yet. However, the moment the Boss had confided in her partner that she'd actually never seen Tron: Legacy, there'd pretty much been no doubt how they were going to be spending their evening. She'd suggested they cuddle up in bed to watch it, mostly so if she got bored it wouldn't be so hard to distract him toward something else, but so far, the movie didn't seem too terrible.

“So this is the guy that made you decide to start puttin’ blue lights on everythin’, huh?” Casey commented matter-of-factly as they watched the protagonist.

“And made it evident I like men.” Matt pointed out with a smirk.

“What made it evident you also like women?” she asked offhandedly. He raised his eyebrows and nodded at the other figure on screen. “Oh yeah.” she chuckled, remembering. “Well... thank you Quorra, I guess.” she said, faux saluting her.

Matt let out a slight chuckle too and took her left hand in his since his right was already around her shoulders. Rather than just holding it though, he began to sweep his thumb along her palm, inevitably catching the lines on it and starting to trace across them one by one. Her hand began to tingle slightly at the touch.

“Mmm.” she purred, glancing down at what he was doing. “That feels nice baby.”

“Yeah?” he replied, smiling and continuing to make his way along them. After a moment he stopped and began to stroke back and forth in the same spot.“I like this line.” he mused. “Sounds a little ridiculous but it's on this top bit of your palm so it’s all... squishy.”. He demonstrated by giving that part of her hand a little squeeze.

Casey glanced down. “Ah see, that is my heart line." she told him. "If you look, it's actually really splintered cause I have y'know... like a shitload of emotional trauma.”. Matt looked over at her, a mixture of confused by the relevance and sympathetic, but she honestly didn't feel the need to talk it through right now, so she shrugged it off and finished her explanation. “And it's up real close to my fingers because I usually suppress my emotions, find it hard to express ‘em, all that shit?”. He knew it better than anyone, if the time they spent dancing around each other before they got together was any indication.

“Love, I don’t want to be an arsehole, but I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.” Matt admitted in an amused tone, letting go of her hand and pulling her closer to plant a gentle kiss into the side of her hair.

She sighed, knowing it was stupid but she’d started the tangent now so she might as well get into it. “Look, there used to be this little uh... psychic place back in Stilwater.” she explained. “I didn’t have any money but the lady in there read my palm a little anyway.”. She paused. “She also...said I had poor circulation ‘cause my hands were so cold.” she muttered absent-mindedly.

Matt scoffed slightly. “OK, I’ll give her the last part.” he conceded. “But you know I think that sort of thing’s bollocks.”

“Hey, so do I.” Casey insisted a little defensively, but her eyes did flick over to some of the little good luck charms she’d accumulated over the years that were pinned to a board on their wall, aware that maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

“Right, so all those arguments about ghosts we had were, what, foreplay?” he asked, drawing back a little with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Matt, I swear to god, I’m time jumpin’ us to Old Stilwater some time and this whole damn thing's bein’ put to rest.” she replied.

“Well I look forward to that.” he replied calmly, but there was definitely a tiny hint of smugness to it.

She rolled her eyes slightly. There was a lot of shit she wouldn't have believed had it not directly happened to her, so she didn't feel the need to convince him right this second. But she knew what she’d fucking seen. At least she... was pretty sure. Maybe. Either way, it wasn’t really the point right now. “Look, I don’t believe in all this palm shit now.” she clarified. “But uh... I was 12 so... I may have gotten a little into it after that. I... took the book out from the library, started copying out all the pages and shit...”

“Oh my god.” Matt replied, bringing the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m lame.” she replied. “Remind me what you were doin’ at 12 again?” she asked sarcastically, nodding at the screen.

“Trying to hack into The Pentagon, mostly.” Matt pointed out. He paused for a moment. “Go on then, trainee palm reader lady.” he suggested teasingly, offering her his free hand. “Tell me what mine says.”

She took it in both of hers and began to run her fingers over his palm, but she couldn’t resist getting him back. “Huh...” she mused. “Interesting. Says here you were a little bitch when you were a teenager.”

“Oi!” Matt responded, pulling his hand back faux defensively, although he was laughing slightly. “Sorry for trying to indulge your highly scientific pastime.”

Casey laughed along with him. “Baby, c’mon, I couldn’t waste that opportunity.” she laughed. “OK, imma do it for real.” she assured, reaching for his hand once more.

"Real...?" Matt replied sceptically, but he let her take it. She traced the lines more thoughtfully this time. She watched out of the corner of her eye as it made him smile and shift his shoulders a little, obviously finding the sensation rather pleasant. “Well, your head line’s super long.” she explained. “Means you’re smart but like... you overthink shit sometimes.”

“Are you actually reading this or do you just so happen to have met me before?” Matt joked.

She gave him an amused look before glancing back down. “But look, see, you’re also super creative because it curves down a lot.”

“Oh yes, I’m quite the artist in my spare time.” he continued sarcastically, leaning his head back against the headboard, looking entertained.

“I meant with your simulations and shit.” she pointed out. “Although one could argue your fanfic also-“

“Yes, I think you’ve made quite enough jokes about my fanfic, thank you very much.” Matt muttered quickly. He was blushing a little but was comfortable enough with her at this point that he didn’t seem as embarrassed as he once was about it. “Let me see; saliva isn’t lube, don’t use “raven-haired” so much, and you think I need to get some dick.”

Casey bit at her lip, smirking a little. “Well I mean, I was just gonna say the whole setup for Nyte Blayde and Ryder, the character who has the greatest resemblance to you in the entire show by the way, to fuck in the secret lair was pretty creative.” she pointed out. “But good to see you were listenin’ I guess.” She smirked over at him, then returned to looking at the lines before he could further protest. “Ooh, OK, so, your heart line starts in the middle of your palm, that means you fall in love pretty easily.”

“Well... that’s not... entirely untrue.” he admitted.

“Matt that’s probably gonna be the most accurate thing on here.” she teased. “Oh, but it also touches your life line, so you also get your heart broken pretty easily.”

“I can’t tell if you’re supposedly reading it, making it up, or just taking the piss now.” Matt admitted.

“Sweetie, if I was makin’ it up I’d be waaaay more flattering.” Casey admitted, repositioning her head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t that the whole point of these sorts of things?” he pointed out. “Telling people what they want to hear?”

“Well...” she relented. “Maybe if you were paying me.”

“Could be using it to get into my pants.” he teased in a slightly flirty tone, glancing across at her.

“You aren’t wearing pants.” she pointed out.

“Yeah I am.” he replied, releasing his hand from hers and snapping at the waistband of his boxers to prove the point. “I’m not wearing trousers.”

“Not this bullshit again...” she chuckled, squishing the area of his palm just under his index finger. “Hmm, well this says you’ve got a bit of an ego?" she said, raising her brows a little to feign suprise as she looked back to him. She caught the rather intense blue of his eyes and suddenly wasn't so focused on looking at his hand anymore. “But you’re also... real easy to talk to...” she continued. “Sweet... loyal... funny...”. She reached over and pushed his hair back off his face with her free hand before continuing. “You’re all... passionate about your special interests and shit.”. She looked over at him with a fond smile. “You’re just really fuckin’ cool, Matt.”

Matt looked genuinely touched, a far softer smile lighting up his features in return than the chuckles and smirks they'd been enticing from each other. “Well.” he said gently. “I suppose, coming from the Emperor herself, that means a lot.”. He paused and moved his hand to interlink his fingers with hers. “I love you, Cass.”

“I love you too, Matty.” she replied.

He used the arm around her shoulders to pull her towards him and towards him for a soft, slow kiss. That genuine smile was still present when they parted. “You know sometimes I still find it hard to believe you do.” he admitted. “After how long it took to get us here and everything.”

“Yeah, well...” she replied, stroking the hand along his face and catching sight of the little line that had started this whole discussion, then catching his gaze again and smiling. “You make it real easy.”

[gojooooo]

YES! SOMEONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO TALK ABOUT HEALTHY SUKUITA!!!

Like… Sukuna likes leaving little love bites on Yuuji. Sukuna bites as a love language.

Also, Sukuna being enamored by Yuuji’s scars and calloused hands because those are signs of strength.

And Yuuji taking Sukuna on loads of food dates bc Sukuna is a foodie.

Just… THEM!

I WISH I COULD JUMP INTO THE SCREEN AND COME GIVE YOU A HUG!!!! <333

i’m so happy someone is on the same page as me! you definitely made my day, i can’t stop smiling. i just want them doting on each other all the time, no power imbalance and taking advantage of yuuji or anything along those lines. 🙏

sukuna is definitely cat coded so biting as a love language all the way!! and he slightly pushes his head against yuuji’s hand when he’s running his fingers through his hair. yuuji wants to tease him for acting so much like a cat but he just can’t because sukuna looks super at peace when his hair is being pet.

appreciating each other’s scars is one of my favorite things ever with any ship that i like so i can’t thank you enough for putting that idea in my head. he would kiss them all the time! you’d think that he’s kissing yuuji on the corner of his mouth but sike he’s actually kissing his scar. also he definitely kisses his knuckles because they’re so powerful yet so gentle + in general think it’s a part of the body that sukuna values a lot so kissing him there holds a lot of meaning

and well the last one is simply canon. yuuji being a good cook and sukuna’s main interest being eating? literally made for each other. sukuna would crack an eye open and peek at menus displayed outside restaurants while yuuji is out shopping with his friends then he’d later tell yuuji about the dishes that piqued his interest and yuuji would take him there. he would feed him and ask him to be discreet but then a waiter would make a friendly comment about yuuji eating by himself and sukuna’s mouth would pop out again saying “oi he’s on a date with me!” scaring the guy away ahzhahshs sorry but everything is funnier with kuna being inside of yuuji. also this prompt reminds me of a fic i read (i just spent half an hour trying to find it again with no success T_T) where yuuji bakes sukuna’s favorite cake for his birthday but everyone who passes by the kitchen steals a slice so at the end yuuji is left with only one slice and he eats it with sukuna in his room. i like to think that yuuji would want to recreate sukuna’s favorite dishes so he can taste them again + it’s yuuji’s love language!

sorry for the super long answer but one last thing before i shut up: i like the idea of them influencing each other to the point that it sticks with them forever, even after they part. like sukuna recognizing any sign that yuuji is feeling something, like maybe he starts cracking his knuckles when he’s nervous and sukuna notices both when he’s inside him (and is quick to talk to him to relax him) and when he no longer is, like yuuji is standing in front of him and his eyes automatically dart to his hands and notices. or yuuji finding himself using sukuna’s ancient and peculiar ways of talking like megumi says he has a plan and yuuji goes “enlighten me” and megumi looks at him like “??? you don’t speak like this” and yuuji is like “ah sorry. sukuna’s fault” stupid examples sorry lol but yeah i love them so much. again thank you so much for this ask <3 healthy sukuita i love u

[lavenoon]

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?,

🌿how does creating make you feel?,

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

and 💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

After a nap (or, well, many naps in a trenchcoat) here I am!

💫 what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

I think, maybe the very specific feral ones? Mentions of particular lines or scenes and actions surrounded by screaming tell me exactly which bits hit good, and I just melt when it's in the context of a live reading and there's so many of these "sub" comments! Honestly the most encouraging comments to get, they push away the imposter syndrome like no other!

🌿 how does creating make you feel?

Mhh, a whole mixed bag of things, I think! There's definitely the elation - I daydream a bunch, but it's different to have those lines on paper to reread again and again and again. It's fun, and it makes me giddy! Unfortunately, sometimes the imposter syndrome creeps up, and I hold my own writing to unreasonably high standards where I just feel like deleting everything and never looking at it again. And that's silly, because I know, and tell myself "this is literally only to have it on paper." It's to get it out, to have it there, not trapped inside my head where I'll forget them. It's so the details don't get lost! And I do that! So I try to focus on just the happy things, the fun it is, and try not to force myself to create on bad days that have unfortunately outweighed the good days for a while now. Wish it was only the fun, but alas, everything has a downside!

🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Ah, compliments. Shot myself in the foot again. Thinking about the dynamic swap though (uh, might or might not make it too tumblr, feeling still eehh about writing so had to keep it contained for now, sorry) I think I'm just, really open for a lot. Like, I don't hesitate to embrace new ideas and make them fit - that was what the swap was initially! I thought "there's no way Sun would be rude to his civilian landlord, as a civilian," and then it turned into a thought experiment how to make it work without getting out of character! It's a lot of fun so I see it as a good thing, and it also means I love seeing everyone else's sonas and interactions! I don't need to stick to one storyline, I love all of them! And I love those storylines whether they came from me or others! Which makes having a variable AU like this a lot more fun, hehe <3

💞 what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language -

Got this one thrice, so I'm gonna split it a lil and ramble about a different factor for each because yeah like I could ever settle for just one fghdjs

For one, it's the characters. I tend to write character driven stuff first and foremost - even my one fic (the tloz one, currently on hiatus, again disclaimer no one needs to read that it's a very different style, anyways) that has a very nice defined plot is so character driven that it's now at 110+K and I'm in the middle of Arc 2. Of five. It's too important for me that the characters get along, and communicate, and have fun together and time to breathe, That's why so many AU drabbles are just that! The entire "plot" of the AU (except for the Glamrock teases) is just them getting closer! That's the point! So the characters are definitely something I pay very close attention to, and do my best to get right!

[edgyandoverzealous]

Characters from my hyperfixations past and present that remind me of my S/O

A fairly chaotic analysis(ish) if you will. Posting it because they said they wanted to read it and I am in fact, madly in love with them so, as they wish. Pt 1. Because they are constantly on my mind and I will inevitably see a character and go "it's them <33" in a loving tone again.

Rise!Donatello -rottmnt

This is obvious. Like to the point where I don't really have to explain it but I will.

First and foremost a mad scientist who appears to be both touch starved and touch adverse?

with good fashion?

and good music taste?

That's literally just my partner.

Donnie seems like the biggest chemistry man, I'm just saying.

Clever and witty?

An adorable sarcasm spouting chaotic good? Yes. Again it's literally just them.

Rise! Leonardo - rottmnt

Again obvious. Also with how hard they kin this turtle, obviously he reminds me of them.

Charming and use humor as a coping mechanism? Check.

And this may just be a headcannon on my part but I feel like Leonardo Hamato is really good at hiding he has a crush on someone/dropping hints. My partner was so good at hiding their crush on me there was a point in time I thought they didn't like me at all and liked someone else entirely. I also missed all the hints given to me. They also dropped a lot of hints and once even asked me out jokingly while we were mutually pining after each other by asking if the next hangout would be a date and I thought about replying with "it can be whatever you want it to be" but was scared of misreading the situation and changed the subject to a random item on the shelf. I'm incredibly emotionally dense.

A good leader too. They legitimately always seem like they know what to do which is great considering I never know what's going on.

Also they are so creative in their plans. We once had a date where we got blankets and squishmellos before cuddling. It was awesome!

Funny and witty too? I can't possibly ask for anything else.

Will Solace - Pjo

Ah yes. A doctor. What are doctors good at? Exactly, science. You know what this doctor in particular can also do? Sing and play guitar. You know who else does that? Yeah, my point exactly.

Good at identifying tells and keeping a straight face.

Also really good at de-escalating anxiety, which we all know Nico has to have at this point and Will knows how to help. The way this applies to my partner happens a lot when we're holding hands. For example, we had an assembly and we're holding hands. For reference I don't do well in those situations anxiety wise as a general rule of thumb. They started to squeeze my hand in sets of three which I mimicked it was quite grounding.

Also they're so accepting. They liked me before I came out as a Trans according to the two year timeframe they've given me and they still liked me after?? I also told them I was feeling dysphoric and they said something along the lines of "why? You're literally a man." That kept me going for a month. I still remember it randomly and end up smiling like a doofus for the next hour or so.

Entrapta - Shera PoP

Another mad scientist. I'm detecting a theme. She likes small things and I am small actually 5'2 at my age, in this economy awful therefore my partner likes small things. Flawless logic I know. *multiple tiny bows*

Otherwise similarly to Donnie, Entrapta is very smart. But Entrapta is also not so smart sometimes. Specifically, in social cues. For example a way this relates to my partner is knowing when a vague(ish) comment is about them. I once told them someone I liked told me I was attractive in makeup, it was them, literally the night before. They went "oh." Looking quite confused and a little concerned. I told them they were the said person in response.

Cute mannerisms. For example talking with their hands. Adorable.

Entrapta is really into space and science, you know who else is into space and science? The love of my life, correct.

Entrapta has pretty hair. Without even trying. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE HAS PRETTY HAIR WITHOUT HAVING TO TRY? Exactly.

You know that cute face Entrapta has when she gets to talk about her inventions and sciences? Have you ever seen that on a real person? I have. Yes it is as adorable as you would think. Yes it is also a reason why I hype up all of their ideas and hyperfixations. No I won't stop actually.

Double Trouble- Shera Pop

Okay hear me out. Hear me out.

They're both hot actors.

They both can sing as well. The full package I literally am so lucky.

Also Double Trouble is tall and attractive. You know who else is tall and attractive? Yeah. Exactly.

Street smarts, they both got 'em. I don't know how to handle a strange man with a cardboard sign preaching to me while walking to a maverick, but they do and I think that's amazing.

Also that sarcasm/lying, like during game night when they were bluffing or covering for my very poor bluffing. I can't lie for shit. Something to see honestly. Their tone during is so endearing and attractive?? I don't think you understand. I can't comprehend how someone can sound so charming while dishing out lies and sarcasm. It legit had me swooning. If they were cast as a villain in anything I think I'd explode actually.

[rex101111]

I'd love to see some commentary on Swipes of Sword and Fan, I'm curious when it comes to more variety-type fics where the inspiration for different chapters comes from and the like. And here's a ⭐ for anything you'd like to talk about in general about whatever!

Thank you!! Looking back im actually pretty proud of this little collection im slowly building up, though to be honest I didn't give it too much thought when I started.

It started out as a bit of a joke, the first chapter was basically just me posting one of the drabbles I sometimes write when somebody sends me a quick description. I just rolled with the premise while staying as close to those two crazy criminals as I could. I posted it as the first chapter of a "collection" half jokingly as an affectionate jab at a trend in fanfiction that is kinda dead these days but was damn near impossible to avoid just a few years back.

People taking an entire prompts list, anywhere from thirty to a hundred, and using that to make a chronologically loose collection of stories based entirely around one ship or group. A select few went the distance and did the whole bunch, but most of them stopped at around the 15 mark. Which is plenty impressive, sure, but it always struck me as evidence that fanfic writers have an awful little habit of biting off more than they can chew.

A habit I'm sure long time readers of my work will no doubt know that I share. The amount of times I said "IM GONNA MAKE A LONG FIC OUTTA THIS ONE JUST YOU WATCH" to myself only to get distracted later on by scheduling issues or just getting attached to another idea... Ah well.

So, yeah, I posted that first chapter as a bit of a jab at myself "oh yeah sure im going to make a collection out of this, the whole nine yards!...probably gonna make it an even 30, be surprised if it hits 15", and the first few chapters came to me like lightning. Since I established the setting in the summary, I pretty much gave myself the freedom to make any story I wanted so long as it was in that very vaguely defined period of time.

Any story. Any at all. Whatever weird idea came to my head with these two that I could fit on two-three pages. I kinda went nuts. Most chapters were born from a quick idea I had like "hey so what if anji got jealous?" or "how do they deal with bounties anyway?" and others I had to really sit with like "...what were Baiken's parents like?" or "tying shoes must be a pain in the ass" or "oh hey what if Anji actually did feel guilty and afraid of his actions hurting the one person he cared about" and so on.

It's gotten to the point where I'm actually fairly certain I will hit that 30 chapter mark at some point. I'm not putting myself on any time line, I just post whenever I have a suitably dense and short story I wanna add. And boom.

and im gonna use the star as a chance to rant a little about how petty I personally can be about comments. First off, I love getting any kinda comment at all, if its a simple "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS" or something along those lines, I will gobble it up like its delicious because it is.

But! Personally speaking if you really wanna make me happy as a writer, I really REALLY like those comments that pick a sentence or a segment and go "OH I REALLY LIKE THIS PART HERE'S A QUICK RANT WHY". Been this way since I wrote weird OC shit on DeviantArt back in the day, craving that very specific "you did good" validation.

Seriously tho, if a reader doesn't have it in them to write a Formal Review of my fanfic I'm not gonna hold it against them. I probably won't answer because I'm honestly genuinely awkward like that. But the dopamine shot of "Comment on AO3" lasts longer if the comment is also longer, you know? I've read comments that made me dance in place and pump my fists like I won a marathon. that shit rocks and readers who take the time to indulge my need for overly specific praise are a treasure.