#or just open a sandbox or something to keep this from happening...

[risingsunresistance]

they really need to remove centauri because i know 400 of you are not on alpha to see the hoppity changes

[f9clementine]

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you had me at hello ⋙ 08. friends forever

⋙ written part included 『••✎••』

You were vaguely aware of someone worriedly calling your name.  But the inky blackness you found yourself in was too much, dragging you further down.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were suddenly sitting at the party, happily scratching an orange cat behind the ear as your friends talked around you when the door opened. You watched as the door opened and a dark haired man came in, a slight scowl on his face. Oh uh the guy who just came in looks upset? You texted, watching as Jisung read it from across the room where he sat with one of the hosts. 

Oh that’s Chan! He texted back, He’s head of their coven. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.

Coven? You felt a slight shudder run down your spine as you read the words. You felt yourself go on autopilot as you responded to a few more texts while your father’s demands sat heavily in your mind.

“Y/n, promise me you will not get involved with any covens or magic users. I can’t bear the thought of anything else happening to you.”

You resolved to keep your distance and politely find a way to leave when the door opened once more, two more men walking in, one slightly taller than the other. You stared at the taller one, hit with an overbearing sense of deja vu.

“Hyunjin!” Someone called from the kitchen out of your view and the taller man looked up, grinning widely as he walked over, disappearing behind the wall.

You couldn’t get out of the party fast enough once you realized, ducking out before Hyunjin could come back and recognize the girl he had cursed years before.

Now you were sitting in your quiet apartment almost a week later, phone held tightly in one of your hands as you guiltily manipulated Jisung into giving you Hyunjin’s number. The other held a tissue to your mouth, catching every cough as you fought to breathe.

Your father couldn’t tell you why you were sick. Doctor’s couldn’t tell you why you were sick. No one could tell you why but you knew it had to do with that afternoon years before. You could talk just fine before then. You could breathe as easily as the next kid before. 

You took a shaky deep breath, finally feeling the medicine you had taken earlier kicking in and giving your lungs a break. You were thankful as gulped down air, but the fear that one day the meds would stop working never left your mind. 

You threw down the soiled tissue and opened a new chat, steeling your nerves. It was now or never.

Is this Hwang Hyunjin?

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“What… do?” 

The same familiar voice broke through as you felt yourself fall into darkness again, leaving the memory behind.

You tried to clasp onto it, to bring yourself out of the gloom, but your arms felt so heavy, weighed down by your side as you sank into the shadows again.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hyunjin!” You jumped up and down, excitedly waving your hands above your head as you spotted your neighbor leaving his house.

Hyunjin grinned, lightly running across your yards to meet you.

Oh no, you thought, realizing you knew what this was. What this memory was of. 

You felt your five year old body practically quiver with excitement as you both rapidly tossed out suggestions on how to spend your day, ripe with the possibilities that only summer could bring.

“Let’s start at the park!”

You both dashed off, full of energy as you ran for the swings at the end of the block.

Even now, you’re not sure how you two began to fight. The time full of giggles and tag melted together until you were both standing upright in the sandbox, red in the face. You said something, stomping a foot to make a point.

“You’re so stupid!” Hyunjin shouted back, folding his arms over his chest.

You gaped, tears suddenly gathering in your eyes as your best friend insulted you. “You’re such a jerk!” Without thinking, you pushed your hands into his chest, pushing him back a step. 

He stumbled, sinking into the sand before looking at you, his own hurt evident in his face. “I don’t want to be friends anymore!”

You both froze, the words hanging heavily in the air before you burst into tears. You began to bawl loudly, plopping yourself down unceremoniously in the sand raising your hands to catch your tears.

Hyunjin immediately sat on his knees next to you, his hands hovering as he worried on how to console you. “Hey, Y/n, c’mon,” He tried, hardly about to hear himself over your cries. “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, pulling your knees to your chest. “Y-you hate me!” 

“No, I-” Hyunjin started before you let out a wail, slapping his hand away. 

“Go away!”

“Will you just-”

“I hate you!”

Hyunjin grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face as he spat, “Will you just shut up!”

Immediately, your cries ceased and Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief, staring down at your hands in his grasp. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, okay?” He looked up to your wet eyes, tears still trailing down your cheeks. “We’re still best friends, I promise.”

He waited for you to reply, and when you didn’t he swallowed harshly. “We’re friends forever… right?” He nervously asked, searching your face for an affirmation.

You ripped your hand from his, placing it on your throat. He watched as you opened your mouth, trying to speak but nothing came out. You tried again, not even a whimper or a wheeze escaping before you began to cry again. 

Hyunjin watched the tears silently run down your face, before jumping up. He took off towards your homes, spraying sand as he ran, loudly yelling for his parents’ help.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It wasn't a voice that rose out of the black this time but a beeping.

A really annoying beeping, you thought, fighting to open your eyes. Your body felt so tired and heavy, and all you wanted to do was sleep, but you knew you wouldn't be able to as long as the beeps continued.

Your eyes opened slowly, wincing at the harsh overhead light as you did. You raised a hand to block the light, but a sharp pain in your arm stopped you. Confused, you looked down, seeing an IV hooked to you.

A sudden snore made you jump, taking your attention to the side of your bed where you realized Jisung and Felix sat. They were pretzeled into chairs, though Felix had a leg hanging over an arm and Jisung's head pillowed onto the other boy's shoulder.

You raised a hand, about to reach over and wake one of them-

"I'd let them sleep."

You looked up at, realizing there was a third person sitting in the corner, almost blending in seamlessly into the shadows. You frowned, before you realized you recognized the split black and white hair.

Hongjoong? You wanted to sign, but the needle in your arm kept you silent.

He grinned, standing up and walking next to your bed, plopping himself down by your feet.

"Hey, Y/n. We should probably talk about your curse, don't you think?"

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taglist: @l33bang24, @yongbokkiesworld, @velvetmoonlght, @your-favorite-pirate, @aalexyuuuhm, 

@kkamismom12, @justiceforvillains, @kaleigh-2002, @lixiesbrownies333, @nicoleparadas, 

@mehli-00, @onlyhyunjin, @justastraymoa, @sheraayasher, @estella-novella

[mixelation]

i was like "i should towards finishing my fics on ao3" and then i opened google docs and wrote some other nonsense instead

anyway here's the minato-and-naruto quasi time travel thing i keep threatening to write

The problem with Hiraishin accidents was that they tended to be… strange. Most jutsu accidents ended with an explosion or a blade slipping or something like that. Hiraishin accidents ended with you standing in random places, sometimes with random pieces of clothing missing. 

Minato was a little surprised to end up in a park, but not immediately worried. He was still in Konoha, and all of his clothes were in place. The interesting part was that when he tried his experiment, it had been 2 PM at the height of summer. Now it was dark and markedly cold. 

He was in a park near the outskirts of the village. Hokage monument loomed in the distance. 

Minato blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dark. This end of the park had a playground for children. It had several street lamps, but half of them were out. He was currently standing next to a slide, which was covered in graffiti. These details seemed odd to him, as he’d been an advocate for Konoha’s park maintenance. Konoha sinking all their funding and manpower into the Third Shinobi War meant Minato had grown up playing on rusty and half-broken equipment, and he’d promised his unborn son that he’d have nicer places to play. 

Minato was never going to get to be a father, and he saw this as all the more reason to support infrastructure changes to improve the village for families that did have children. He owed it to baby Naruto. 

Ah, well. This park was pretty far out. Maybe it was somehow getting missed. Minato mentally filed the problem away to address after he’d figured out if he’d… blacked out for a while, or whatever had just happened. 

There was one other presence in the whole park. A little kid was playing in a sandbox. Minato wondered where the kids’ parents were, this late at night. 

Minato approached the kid, making sure to make enough noise to be noticed. The kid froze in the middle of making some sort of… sand pile… and looked up at Minato with suspicious eyes. 

“What?” the kid demanded. He had light colored hair sticking out from under a knit hat. He scowled at Minato very seriously, which was adorably hilarious on such a young face. “What do you want?”

He must not recognize me, Minato decided, amused. It was dark, and the kid was pretty young. 

Minato squatted at the edge of the sandbox. There were random patches of grass in the sand. The kid puffed himself up, his scowl still in place. 

“Hey, kid,” Minato said. “I need some help. Can you answer some questions for me?”

“What questions?” the kid asked. “I’m allowed to be here, you know!”

Minato felt his stomach tighten slightly at the wording. It was so close to how Kushina used to talk, and this kid was about the age Naruto would be… 

Get a grip, Namikaze, Minato thought. This type of distraction was probably why he’d screwed up the Hiraishin to begin with. He needed to focus. Lots of people probably happened to speak like Kushina. 

“Actually, the park is closed after dark,” Minato said gently, and the kid looked scandalized. It was very cute. Minato winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Afterall, I’m here after closing too, aren’t I?”

The kid relaxed into a pout. He eyed Minato up and down, and Minato tried to look as friendly and unthreatening as possible. 

“You’re a ninja!” the kid finally said, visibly brightening. “You have a hitai-ate!”

He pointed. Minato grinned. 

“Sure am,” he agreed. 

“Then why do you need help from me?” the kid asked, eyes wide. 

At this point, it would have indeed been faster and more efficient to just teleport back to his office and ask an adult questions. But this kid was very cute, and Minato liked talking to the youth of Konoha. 

“I had a jutsu accident,” Minato said, very seriously. The kid’s eyes basically bulged out of his head. Adorable. “I’m afraid to tell any other ninja, in case they make fun of me. But you won’t make fun of me, will you?”

The kid got so excited he actually ended up on his feet, waving his arms intensely. Sand flew everywhere. 

“No way!” the kid yelled. “Everyone makes mistakes, you know! That’s what the old man says whenever I mess up, and I mess up a lot, you know. I don’t like when people make fun of me! So I won’t make fun of you, and if the other ninja make fun of you, I’ll beat them up for you!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Minato said, putting his hands up. This kid was enthusiastic. “That’s very nice of you, but you don’t need to beat anyone up for me, promise. Why don’t you hear my questions first?”

The kid took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” he said. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Minato asked. The kid shook his head. “Well, do you know what time you left your house?”

“I dunno,” the kid said. “But I didn’t come here from my house. I came from the Academy, you know! I’m training real hard to be a ninja too!”

The kid rambled for a bit, and Minato frowned as he listened to the story. The kid had had detention after class, after some prank he’d pulled on his teacher, and then he’d come immediately over to the park. He said he liked coming at night when the park was empty, because other children often wouldn’t let him play with the “good” equipment. 

“Usually I have to wait until after dinner,” the kid was saying. “But in winter it gets dark real early, you know!”

The kid did know the date. 

“Can you tell me… the year?” Minato said slowly. 

The kid told him.

If the kid was right, Minato had gone back in time five months. So that was… a new way for the Hiraishin to be messed up. What a terrifying discovery. 

When Minato, lost in thought, didn’t ask follow up questions, the kid was unperturbed. He continued to ramble about his ninja training. 

At least, if Minato really was back in time, it was only five months. If he couldn’t figure out how to undo it, he could just lay low those five months until his past self also winked out of time, and just step right back into his life. Unless that wasn’t how time travel worked…? Tobirama had written some theories on time travel and seemed to think it didn’t work that cleanly… 

“...and then I’m going to be Hokage!” the kid cried, pumping a fist in the air. 

Minato grinned, despite the situation. This kid was a riot. How had he not noticed him before? 

“I’m sure you will be,” Minato told him, reaching forward to place a hand on the kid’s hat, like he would to ruffle hair. “Thank you for helping me.”

Minato stood. He wanted to go to his office as soon as possible to get to work verifying he had time traveled, and maybe consult Tobirama’s old writings, but he also couldn’t just leave this kid alone. He’d drop him off at his home as quickly as possible, he decided. He’d love to see this kid’s reaction to realizing who he was. Or to getting to see his famous Hiraishin. 

“Hey, kid,” Minato said. “My name is Namikaze Minato. What’s yours?”

The kid didn't seem to recognize the name at all. But he beamed up at Minato, showing all his teeth. 

“This means we’re friends now, right?” the kid said. “I’m Uzumaki Naruto!”

The kid continued to ramble about how cool it was to have a ninja for a friend, but Minato couldn’t hear him. 

He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. 

Was this a joke? A sick prank by a villager? Or attack, even? A cruel, evil genjutsu, maybe? 

Minato suddenly wanted to flee, or maybe he wanted to fight, or to disappear forever. He had no name for this emotion, but he did push out his senses, tapping into his Hiraishin network. It lit up in his mind, scattered across the village. 

It was wrong. There were fewer markers than there should be. And… one extra one. 

Minato's gaze turned back to the kid in front of him. The kid had one of his markers in him, burning brightly at his stomach. 

“Hey, hey,” the kid said, taking Minato’s hand and tugging. “Are you alright, mister?”

Minato tried to dispel a genjutsu. Nothing happened. The kid was still staring up at him with blue eyes the exact shape of Kushina’s. 

“Na… naruto,” Minato said, the word feeling too intimate to be spoken out loud. The kid just blinked curiously up at him. “I… I need to take you home. Where are your parents?”

“Oh,” Naruto said. “Don’t worry about that! I don’t have any, so I can stay out as late as I want, you know.”

Minato stared at him. 

He sat on the edge of the sandbox. 

He stared at the kid some more. 

“Are you okay?” the kid asked, dubious. 

“Do you know who the Hokage is, Naruto?” Minato asked weakly. 

“Oh, yeah!” Naruto said. “Old man Third!”

“It’s not the Fourth?” Minato asked weakly. 

Naruto shook his head vigorously. “Nope! ‘Cause he’s dead.”

Minato did not have Tobirama’s theories on time travel memorized, but he had read through them. One theory was that true time travel wasn’t possible. Time was just infinite probabilities, constantly diverging with every decision anyone ever made, and one couldn’t go back in time because time simply wasn’t linear like that. 

But one could hop into a different probability. A different timeline, where things played out just slightly differently.

Minato also knew there was no way to fake a Hiraishin marker. His past self in this timeline made one and put it in this boy, the same way he’d wanted to do for baby Naruto when he realized the baby had to become the Kyuubi’s next container, before everything collapsed into Minato’s first and greatest failure as a father. 

Minato put his head between his knees and concentrated on breathing. 

“Whoa, mister!” Naruto cried and helpfully patted his back. “Are you sure you’re a ninja? You don’t seem very tough.”

Minato laughed weakly, staring at the dark grass from between his knees. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me.”

“Yeah, well…” Naruto stuttered out. 

Naruto. 

Minato sat up and looked at his son. It was too dark to see every detail of Nruto’s face, but now that Minato knew to look, he looked just like Kushina. He even had the unusually chubby cheeks Kushina had hated as a kid. 

He wanted to hug him, to kiss his cheeks and beg for forgiveness. 

He also knew that would probably freak the poor kid out. 

“Sorry, Naruto,” he said finally. “I have… I have more questions. Can we go inside somewhere?”

Naruto squinted at him. 

“Are you some kind of loser ninja?” he asked. “You’re crying.”

Minato laughed. He was crying. How embarrassing.

[pimosworld]

would you be able to write something about santi and frankie making a tree house for the reader's kids?

her kids have always wanted one and there's a perfect tree for it right in the center of the back yard, but she's never had the time to make it herself or get a professional to make it.

one day, at a neighborhood barbecue, pope is talking to reader's kids (trying desperately to be their favorite uncle) when they inform him of their plan of how to get their mom to make their tree house.

he tells them to draw him up a plan of their dream tree house and tells them he'll see what he can do. with the help of fish, they draw up a real plan of action from the drawing and set out finding materials. reclaimed wood, an old slide that really just needs a fresh paint job, a carpet to go inside, and some old moroccan style tiles for the roof.

they show up, truck bed full of supplies, unannounced and get to work unloading and constructing the thing. how can the reader be so mad when her kids look so happy helping them build it and playing in it once it's built?!

(new anon, sorry that this was so long.)

Pairing-Triple frontier boys x f!reader

Summary-Your kids find a way to get what they want both for you and for them.

CW-SFW, Fluff, angst, mentions of parent loss, mentions of spouse loss, tf boys being protective, tf boys being great uncles, mentions of insecurities, kids being menaces, dating, cursing, inaccurate descriptions of tree house build time because this is my world and we can build tree houses quickly, so much fluff. The boys being good with their hands.

WC-2.7k

A/N- I’m sorry this took me so long anon. Writers block sucks but it’s only fitting that the anniversary of my first ever fic COMPANY that came up a few weeks ago featuring the tf boys is kicked off with your request for some Frankie and Santi being amazing. I made some adjustments but I hope this is everything you wanted and more.

[Triple Frontier Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

If you build it

“I can tell they’re up to something.” Santi shoots you a look as he flips the burgers on the grill. 

  “They’re kids of course they’re up to something. The question is what.” Santi closes the grill as he looks across the wide expanse of yard at his niece and nephew playing in the sandbox. 

  It looks like the childlike version of an ops mission happening. To someone else it may just look like a little girl playing with a stick in the sand but Santi knows better than that. 

  ****

  It’s such an odd feeling, you should still be grieving right? You most certainly shouldn’t be looking at Santi and his chiseled jaw as he watches your kids play. Or watching the way his muscles flex in his tight tee shirt as he crosses his arms. You’re so distracted you don’t even realize he’s speaking to you. 

  “Can you watch the grill for a second?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you feel flushed for all the wrong reasons. The sweltering heat does nothing to hide your embarrassment. 

  “Ya of course but don’t be gone too long. I’ve been known to burn anything on the grill.” 

  “I’ll make it quick then.” He winks at you as he walks across your lush green yard. Swiftly dodging a football that Benny throws deliberately at his head as he flips him off in return. 

  “You’re gonna burn a hole in his pants if you keep staring.” You jump at the sound of Frankie’s voice and he has the decency to look apologetic at your reaction. 

  You hadn’t really noticed how much they’ve all aged in the last few months. His hair is a little longer as it curls around his cap. His worry lines are just a bit deeper than you last remember them being. Yet he still smiles at you all the same as he pulls you into a deep hug, kissing the top of your head. 

  “I didn’t mean to scare you cariño, I was only joking.” 

  You shove him off playfully as you open the grill again. “I wasn’t staring.” 

  He bumps you out of the way as he grabs the spatula from your hand. “Sure…whatever you say. Your secrets are safe with me.” You watch him as he effortlessly dispatches all the burgers to a plate and sets them aside. 

  You bite your lip as you wait for him to say something but you know he’s giving you time to think. Something he’s always done for you, knowing that your mind is going a mile a minute and if anyone interrupts that train of thought it might be gone forever. 

  He’s just standing beside you like a steady weight as he glances around the yard at some people he barely knows and others he knows like the back of his hand. Now it’s mostly close friends and one or two neighbors, compared to several months ago when he couldn’t pick out a familiar face among the crowd. People tend to forget that your grieving continues even long after you’ve decided not to show up. 

  He shouldn’t feel bad for you because you’re a strong woman. More resilient than any of them could ever be. 

  “Frankie, can I ask you something?” You say with a nervous smile. 

  “You’re allowed to move on.” 

  You glance up at him and it’s intense the way he meets your eyes. “I didn’t ask the question.” 

  “You didn’t have to…my answer is still the same.” 

  ****

  As Santi approaches the sandbox he can see some kind of intricate drawing. Lexi is using a stick practically the size of her to draw it out while her brother Liam watches from the corner. She looks so much like you, especially with her focused face on as she draws another detailed set of lines that he still can’t quite make out. 

  Liam glances up at him and gestures with his fingers to stay quiet. Santi takes a seat at the corner of the box near him as they patiently wait for her to finish. He looks so much like him that Santi has a hard time not getting choked up, he’s grateful that they both have your personality. 

  “Okay.” Lexi throws the stick to the side and dusts her hands off on her white skirt. “I think it’s done.” She looks up and flashes a toothy smile at Santi and he can’t help the way his heart melts. 

  “Can I ask what exactly this is?” 

  The little girl lets out a deep sigh as she looks over at her twin brother and he just holds his hands out in silent communication that she needs to take the lead. 

  “Well…this is a tree house.” She pauses briefly and Santi thinks that’s cool that she can draw but then she starts. In great detail for several minutes animatedly explaining the process of her vision coming to life. 

  Santi has to get up and stand from her perspective to really get a grasp of what she’s talking about. He tries to follow along as she explains the duel ladder system, one on the trunk and another hanging down from the middle entrance of the house. Two doors, one for entry and the other for the slide,that lets out perfectly into the softest patch of grass in the yard. Her and her brother evidently couldn’t decide on carpet or tile so they opted to split it down the middle. Her half would be tile and his half would be carpet. They would obviously need enough room for arts and crafts, the kitchen and naps. 

  He’s never been so impressed with an eight year old in his entire life. 

  He’s so enthralled with the design that he doesn’t notice the little girl standing there staring up at him expectantly. 

  “So what do you think?” She’s wringing her little hands together as she glances over at her brother with an equally curious look on his face. As if a lightbulb goes off in his head Santi is suddenly aware of what exactly they were up to. 

  “Mija…are you asking if I can help?” 

  She nods her head as she rocks back and forth in the sand. 

  “We both have allowances if that helps.” Liam chimes in from the corner of the sandbox and Santi has to try to disguise his smile behind his hand. 

  “Foods ready!” You yell from across the yard and Santi meets your eyes. A look of what are you up to written all across your face. 

  He crouches down waving Liam over and the little boy carefully avoids the blueprints in the sand to join them. “Okay…here is what I want you to do.” 

  ****

  Your kids are being uncharacteristically good. They finished all their food, they haven’t bothered you in over an hour and even offered to help clean up the table after everyone ate. 

  Most everyone has cleared out from the barbecue besides for the boys who seem to be enthralled with something over by the sandbox. Frankie keeps glancing over his shoulder at you and Will has shot you a thumbs up twice. If they thought subtlety was their strong suit they are sadly mistaken. You often wonder how they managed to be special ops and keep things a secret when it’s so obvious they’ve all got something up their sleeve. 

  ****

  The something they had planned despite your initial worry was in fact a much needed day for yourself. Benny was going to take the kids to the zoo and despite wanting all the credit Will assured you he would be accompanying them so that an adult would be present. 

  Over the last several months various repairs around the house had gone undone in the chaos of being a newly single mom. Frankie and Santi volunteered to spend the day getting your house in order while you had a full day planned with Will’s wife Jenna. Brunch, pedicures, shopping…you couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself to a day that wasn’t centered around your kids. As much as you loved them you knew that at times it felt like the person you used to be was long buried underneath a world of stress and hurt. 

  Dating was completely off the table at the moment…especially since your current situation was all but off limits. Taking care of yourself for once could be a great start in the right direction. 

  ****

  “I told you to get half inch screws Pope.” 

  “Those are half inch!” Santi says as he hears Frankie grumbling under his breath. 

  “These are definitely a quarter inch and that explains another problem.” Frankie chides as Santi flips him off. 

  They’ve been at this for a few hours having completed the tasks in your house in a matter of no time. All this a ruse to get the tree house completed before you and the kids are back from your day out. 

  It’s been awhile since they’ve done something like this. Not just the physical labor but the reward at the end being something that they know is going to brighten a lot of days. They may bicker and fight like brothers but at the end of the day Santi knows how much they both needed this. To have their minds occupied with an intricate task. 

  Intricate doesn’t even begin to describe what’s unfolded before them. With their niece's original design in mind and a few additions when they got to the store this is turning out to be better than some places they’ve slept while in the service. 

  Frankie is putting the finishing touches on the bug screen that he decided would be a good addition to the entryway for the balmy summer nights. Santi’s never felt so large while he sits on the wooden bench that doubles as a reading nook. The wood matching the same structure that he knows could withstand any storm or hurricane. The sun is setting, casting a shadow along the bright yellow carpet they found on clearance at the back of the home decor store. 

  The leftover Talavera tiles Santi had from his home remodel fit perfectly on the half that would be the makeshift kitchen. 

  There are three exits and two entries. The trap door with a knotted rope, the wooden plank stair steps and the slide that leads to the softest patch of grass in the yard. 

  Santiago’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car doors slamming and children’s laughter. 

  “We should head down.” Frankie grunts as he shuffles over to the slide, reaching for his standard heating oil cap placed on the bench nook. 

  Santi raises his eyebrows at the man taking in the scene about to unfold. 

  “What? How else are we supposed to get down?” 

  “Oh I don’t know the stairs or the rope maybe?” He says sarcastically. “We don’t need you breaking the slide before they even get a chance.” 

  “Fuck you, this slide was built to withstand a hurricane.” 

  His nieces squeal from across the yard interrupts their fifth squabble of the day. 

  Frankie flashes him a wide grin. “Last man down has to ask their mom on a date.” 

  “What?!” 

  “Byeeee.” Frankie slides away, throwing him the middle finger on the way down. 

  Santi had already talked to him about this ad nauseam. It always felt like the wrong place at the wrong time. 

  He opened the latch to the trap door, opting to climb down to spare him the embarrassment of using a children’s slide in front of you. 

  ****

  You pulled up to the house at the exact same time as Will and Ben. You don’t remember the last time you’d felt this refreshed. Your hair and nails done, way too many bags piled in the backseat of Jenna’s car with a new wardrobe. It was exactly what you needed and a much needed conversation with another woman to reassure you that you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions about your love life. You shouldn’t feel guilty about moving on and doing what’s best for you and your children. 

  You half expected your kids to be happy to see you but they both gave you light hearted waves as they raced each other around the side of the house, leaving you in the driveway with Will and Ben with amused looks on their faces. 

  “What’s gotten into them?” You say as the boys shoot each other a look and Jenna takes your hand on hers to lead you around the house. 

  “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission right?” Ben says from behind you and now you’re really starting to worry. Your daughter's screech has you pulling away as you run into the backyard. 

  The sight you’re met with is one that completely knocks you off your feet. Your children are jumping up and down in front of a beaming Frankie and the largest tree house structure you’ve ever seen. This is something out of an outdoor life magazine. 

  You don’t realize you're frozen in place as the rest of the gang join him on the lawn. Santiago perhaps on purpose opted to make your life that much harder by effortlessly climbing down the rope ladder. In all the years he’s been out of the service the man still has an impeccable physique. You will your feet to move as you take in the thing that your kids have been asking you for since they could talk. The thing your husband didn’t make time for and the daunting task seemed impossible for you on your own. Paying someone was out of the question and you were too prideful to ask the boys to help you out anymore than they already did. 

  You don’t even realize you’re crying until Santiago approaches with the most worried look you’ve ever seen on his face. 

  “Look, I’m really sorry if we overstepped. I know we should’ve asked and it wasn’t our place…but the kids-“ 

  His ramblings are cut short when you throw yourself into him. He instinctively hugs you tight as he feels the wetness from your eyes soak into his shirt. 

  It’s embarrassing to admit how long it’s been since a man has held you and right now you can feel your resolve breaking as he soothingly rubs his hands down your back to calm your tears. 

  “I don’t know how to thank you Santi.” You mumble into his chest as you try to calm your beating heart. 

  It’s a moment before you break apart and he really gets a good look at you. Even with fresh tears in your eyes you look stunning. The most relaxed he’s seen you look in ages and just as beautiful as the day Tom introduced you to the boys. 

  With the group and the kids thoroughly distracted he figures now is as good a time as any. He’s far enough away that if you reject him he can slink out of the backyard and disappear to another country for three to six months while the shame dies down. 

  “Listen, I have to say something before I lose the courage to say it.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck as he focuses on some inanimate object behind you. “I understand if you’re not ready or you think this is highly inappropriate and in that case I’ll pretend this never happened.” 

  You can feel the hairs stand up on your arms and you dig your nails into your palm to keep from passing out at this very moment.

  “I know it’s wrong to say but I’ve always thought you and the kids deserved better. You know I loved him but it killed me to see the way he treated you and in another life perhaps I met you first and things would look a little different. I just can’t help but think maybe this can be a second chance and if you’re willing, I’d like to take you out sometime.” 

  The silence is deafening as you try to form words and Santi looks as though he wants to spontaneously combust at your lack of response. In all honesty you were never really good at flirting and now you’re spiraling because what do you say besides. 

  “Yes.” 

  He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he looks up at the sky thanking whoever is watching that he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself. 

  You both turn around to see Benny helping your son climb the rope and Frankie sliding down with your daughter in his lap as she claps her hands. Will and his wife made it inside at some point and they wave to you both from the large open window. 

  “It looks like I may be able to take you up on that offer tonight.” 

[nanamis-bigtie]

a lot has happened lately, but so far i haven't made any official statement about my decisions and the path i want to take as a writer. it was a long road of trial and error & detailed examination of conscience in regard of my bad habits, gained experience, and goals and expectations. there are some massive changes that i need to address, followed by explanation of my decisions. i know i don't need to explain myself but i feel it's only fair to my loyal readers to share at least little insight into the context.

I. One Piece goes on indefinite vacation...

not going to lie, i was falling out of this fandom for years. it's started in 2021 when i fell victim to bullying and stalking, initiated by a widely-known (and still active, as far as i am aware of) x reader writer. it's the biggest reason for my slow withdrawal but not a sole one: pressing discourse around my comfort characters, toxic environment i fell into when looking for a relief from relentless bullying, forcing myself to write for topics and characters i didn't even like, readers overstepping my boundaries over and over again, falling into a trap of purity culture...oh, the list is long. way too long.

i still love one piece but i don't want to create for it en-masse anymore. right now it's just a wound that's far from healing, i need to treat it at my own pace. aside from an occasional poke at sapphic topics and my fav trio, i doubt it will appear in other way than commissions or gifts for friends. and some characters (kid, sanji, marco, katakuri, shanks & a few more) will never return.

II. ...but new fandoms arrive!

jujutsu kaisen is right now the main love of my life & will remain as the main fandom for long. but i found more series and characters i adore enough to feel that creative spark buzzing in my veins. soon you should see fics appearing for: demon slayer, chainsaw man, haikyuu and hell's paradise!

i'm keeping my head low rn when it comes to requests but i want to hold at least a kinktober open for them so you definitely will have an opportunity to see your faves from those series from me!

III. It's a gender neutral & afab Y/N sphere now!

it's something that was inevitably floating over me and my fics (and some of y'all definitely caught the whiff of it already), but i couldn't quite find courage to put a hard limit. we all know how it is in the y/n circles: way too many people expect from writers to cater to everyone, and treat it as a personal offense if you prefer to play in your own sandbox. as if writing y/ns was "activism", not a fandom activity like any other.

so, i won't force myself to write against myself anymore. i feel the most happy and comfortable when i make my y/ns gender neutral and when i'm giving them vaginas (and sometimes boobs) when i'm writing smut with them. i don't want to battle my weirdly-veiled dysphoria to force female reader out of myself. i don't want to stress myself while writing amab y/n, from the sheer biological fact of being unable to relate via lack of penis, to being sick and tired of the toxicity and misogyny that m!reader circles reek of.

so, gender neutral and afab it is. sometimes i will stray towards afab nonbinary or transmasc direction, if i feel like i need some good gender vibes coming from my fics.

it doesn't mean i will never write different y/ns. commissions, gifts for friends, exchanges, random ideas for a plot that requires a specific kind of y/n, sapphics feels, and such will appear here and there. i will also interact lots with f!reader fics, since it's what i see lots around & don't mind reading, if i feel more fem or if it's from a writer i like and trust.

incoming ino x reader (that i hope to publish tomorrow) will be the last non-sapphic f!reader that will appear for a long while. all requests i'm keeping in my drafts right now will be turned into completely gender neutral or from fem to more general afab reader (i don't have any requests for amab readers rn anyway). unless you really don't want to have f!reader taken out of your request - then please, let me know, i will delete it so you can head with it to a different writer.

IV. Never miss a fic again - sign for a tag list!

and now a little treat! if you don't want to miss a fic about the topic that might interest you, you may sign for a tag list by filling a simple form!

V. And what am I going to do now?

write, write, and write even more! i wanna write the in the heat of spring drabbles before the spring is gone, have three fully-fledged multichapter fics outlined and itching to be written and posted, and an interactive event with which we will welcome the summer 💦

in june i want to publish a few sapphic fics that i had in mind for a while now & later towards the second half of summer (think august-september) i'll smile at you again with a kinktober i really want to complete this year!

there might be a few smaller events on the way, depending on how busy i'll be. there's an idea for dilf enjoyers and for a chubby y/n, as well as many others that still didn't take a clear shape.

i also didn't forget about the kiss event and nonsexual acts of intimacy for the fluff enjoyers!

if you survived this wall of text (or just scrolled down here lol understandable) - thank you for your patience, understanding, and support. whether you're here with me since the very beginning or clicked the follow recently, i'm happy to have you here ❤ if you have any questions or just want to talk, my askbox is open for any kind of interaction! and if you want to support a poor writer who has way too many health-related spendings lately, you can buy me a ko-fi ❤

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Arien's Advent Calendar, 2024

25 days of TLOU fic

ALL CLAIMS FILLED, THANK YOU!

To say a big THANKS for supporting my fic throughout the year(s), I’m doing the Advent Calendar Fic thingamy again!  I did this last year and it became this collection of stories.

From 1 - 25 December 2024 I will be posting a short story (it will be short, I will control myself) as part of a new collection of works from Driftersverse, Making Mirrors, Interstellar Overdrive and Legend of Charro.

Beneath the cut I have a little information about the story to be written each day (universe, characters and date/era).  I’d like to dedicate each to a reader, so please claim one and I’ll write it for you.

I don’t think all days will fill up, but I’d like to give everyone a chance to get one they really like, so at this stage each person can claim ONE day only - I’ll open it up to more later on. You’re welcome to send me a few in order of preference in case someone has already beaten you to the punch on your favourite, and I haven’t yet updated the list.

If you would rather claim as anon, please give me a name or an emoji or something - just so I can identify you against your chosen day and so we don’t get multiple anons muddled up. 

Please send claims via asks so I can keep track of them in one place and if not anon, include your AO3 name (if you have one).

Happy Holidays! (And thanks to everyone who voted and helped me decide what to offer!)

DD – Driftersverse (my TLOU sandbox, Tess lives) MM – Making Mirrors (Snowqueen of Texas/Parallel Lines - no Cordyceps AU) LOC – Legend of Charro (the Western) IO – Interstellar Overdrive (70s AU) AU – Alternate Universe, unrelated

“OC/Canon, any universe” is a new entry this year.  This means I’ll write a story with the canon listed and you can choose either canon or one of my original characters to appear in the story with them, plus specify universe in which it takes place.  (Eg, Frank and Joel, IO).

Please be kind and keep it to characters I am known to write (I may refuse a claim if you start waving Owen or Mel at me) and who could reasonably interact with one another.  I’ve got enough writing to do, don’t break my brain!

“Mystery AU” is exactly what it sounds.  Last time one of these spawned IO so who knows what could happen?

“Crack box” is the one crack fic I’ll write.  Last year’s took me by surprise, but this year I’m reserving a space for it.

Where are all the Tommy/Maria fics?  They’re still getting three more stories to themselves, so that’s coming probably 2025 at this stage. O_O

1. DD Tess/Joel, 2022 @justplainsalty 2. IO Joel and Ellie, 1977 @march-flowerr 3. LOC Tess/Joel, sweetheart years @seethesunny 4. DD Tess/Joel and Tommy, 2005 @dancingonmoonbeams 5. Ellie and OC/Canon, any universe OR IO 1980 (but whom?) @finnelfin 6. DD Joel/Tess 2024 @ belantana 7. Mystery AU @finnelfin 8. DD/MM Joel and Sarah, 1993 @march-flowerr 9.  IO Tess/Joel, 1974 @emilylawsons 10. Maria and OC/Canon, any universe @ameerawrites 11. LOC Tess/Joel, bandit years @adoringhxxd 12. MM Tess/Joel and Sarah, 2005 @ammotraguslervia 13. DD Tess/Joel and Ellie, 2025 @ameerawrites 14. Tommy and OC/Canon, any universe @adhdprincess 15. Crack Box OR third Mystery AU @toomanytookas 16. IO Tess/Joel 1976 @flckrsoflight 17. DD Tess/Joel, Tommy/Maria 2027 @bumblepony 18. LOC Tess/Joel and Ellie, family years @chujo-hime 19. Mystery AU @bignosebushybrows 20. DD Tess/Joel 2011 @betweentwoceremonials 21. IO Tess and Ellie, 1970 @becomethesun 22. MM Tess/Joel, 2004 @bignosebushybrows 23. Frank and OC/Canon, any universe OR DD Tess/Joel 2007 @justplainsalty 24. DD Tommy/Maria, 2022 @bumblepony 25. Mystery Christmas Story @adhdprincess

[biscuitblinkeu]

It’s Mutual, Let’s Get A Divorce! [1]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader -> Not Requested

Prompt: Roseanne Park, the hotshot cold-hearted Domestic Relations Attorney; she’s an ace in the courtroom, but she’s got the phrase hard to love pinned dead in the middle of her forehead, and paired with her devotion to work…she’s just not cut out for relationships. Then there’s you, a playful and nonchalant mother stuck in a sinking ship called marriage. Through divorce, you meet Roseanne who struggles to keep things professional. She tries hard to keep those concrete walls up but it’s inevitable they crash down. You’re a wrecking ball, a force of nature; it’s a perfect match!

………………………………………………………………………………

Little Steps Kindergarten, the sign read as you drove closer to the building. You were picking up your daughter from school.

The first thing you see is the parking lot is decorated with chalk designs, pictures, and drawings, all a mix of bright, colorful scribbles and crudely drawn animals. (The kids tried.)

A few kids are running around the fenced front yard, chasing each other with sticks, bugs, and whatnot. Others play on slides, in the sandbox, or on the monkey bars while some are just sitting, waiting patiently for their parents to pick them up; the quiet ones. Your daughter was a quiet child, not as outgoing as she should be, her teachers think. You’d say you have no idea why she's like that, but you do.

You had to park across from the school because the parking lot the school owns is for teachers and staff, you're also not fond of waiting in the long pickup line. Before you could even cross the street and get to the entrance, you saw Nala running over, her arms stretched out in excitement, yelling, “Mommy!!”

You would scold her for running across the street so carelessly, but seeing her so happy to see you, you decide against it. You open your arms to pick her up, swinging her around as she giggles.

Shortly after, there’s a teacher running up to you; Mrs. Manoban, a black-haired teacher in her mid-thirties who’s extremely nice and sweet to everyone. She also babysits Nala when you or her father aren’t around. She holds Nala’s backpack in her hand who huffs and puffs— trying to catch her breath. You could only assume that she’s been running after the little girl. “Hello, Mrs. (Y/l/n)” She greets, so energetic despite the obvious exhaustion written all over her face.

“Hi, Mrs. Manoban. How are you?” You ask politely, smiling back at the woman.

“I’m great! Thank you.” She beams, her dark brown eyes crinkling at the edges, “you see I was just playing tag with the children…and then Nala decided to run across the street so I got scared, but then I saw you, so all is well.” She expresses relieved and hands you Nala’s backpack.

“She was very good today— she always is.” You grin at that, reaching over to give Nala a light squeeze on her hand. You say a quick goodbye after that, as Mrs. Manoban has to attend to the other kids.

Nala lets you take her backpack as you walk to your car. “Woah! This is heavy, what have you got in here?” You joke, lifting the bag up and down.

“We made clay plates today! I’ll show you at home!” You nod with a smile, taking her hand and helping her into her car seat.

“Are we really gonna do something fun today mommy?” Nala asks you as you buckle her into her car seat. “Yep. Though it won’t be until later.” You tell her, and you couldn't help but feel a little dejected, having previously promised her you would do something many other times, like go buy ice cream or take her shopping— she loves shopping. And that never happened. However, this time is different, because now you have a little bit of freedom.

“What will we do? Can I know?” Nala’s curiosity takes hold of her, and she stares up expectantly at you. “I don’t think I can tell you. It's a secret,” you answer, though you don’t know what you’re doing yourself. She pouts but compiles nonetheless. On the way back home you stop and get Nala ice cream, which makes her very happy.

Later, you planned to take her shopping or do something to make up for missed time with her. You’ve only just gotten to a point where you could work from home, not in your office. You do real estate and own your own company so it’s been hard on your time together.

You got home about twenty minutes later. You shut the door behind you before helping your five year old take off her shoes.

“Run upstairs and take your coat off, and then we’ll get any homework out of the way and go out, okay?

“Kay!” You hear her footsteps retreating, but don’t hear them pad up the stairs. It’s then when you notice most of the lights were on, and that the TV was playing. You walked into the living room, the main source of noise, and saw your husband, Jaylyn, swinging a giggling Nala around.

“Jay?” You call from the entrance of the living room. You tried to smile, key word, tried. He put Nala down and cleared his throat, “Why don’t you go do what your Mom said?”

She left the room and he stood awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself under your scrutinization.

“Room?” He gestured to your bedroom and you both made your way in there. He sat down on the bed. You turned to him.

“We can’t do this anymore.” You sit on the desk, arms crossed with a plain expression on your face. You were tired of your husband disappearing without a word and then coming back with no heads-up. He never told you where he went either, but you had an inkling. And this “Inkling” of a thought would have hurt you if you still loved him as much as you did a couple months ago.

It’s faded, now on its last strings: romantic wise, just like your marriage.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes, “I’ve been trying to…to…” he trails off looking at the carpet, searching his mind for the right words.

“Love me like before?” You say and he appears shocked, but it’s not for long. He laughs dryly, shaking his head humorously, “I suppose, yes.” You were very observant, he wouldn’t be surprised if you knew much earlier.

“Okay, but what does that have to do with not being in your daughter's life as much as you should? I can excuse you being that way to me, but to Nala? It’s not okay. She misses you when you leave. I can’t keep making up excuses for you.” You raise your voice a bit, not liking how you’re starting to sound like an angry wife. But you were.

He doesn’t respond, simply staring at you through his frames, guiltily. You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I can see this isn’t going to last, but I want you to be in her life.” You said softer. You knew what it was like only having one parent present, it can make or break someone. You fear that because Jaylyn has not been in her life much this past year, to be her other pillar of support, that’s why she wasn’t as outgoing as other kids. She’s smart, and she’s heard you two argue before, she must have an idea.

“I will, I will. I love our daughter, she’s my pride and joy, so, I promise. Are you suggesting we divorce?” His voice grew softer. “I’m okay with that if that’s what it takes. I don’t like that I’m causing this— I’d like to fix it. I want you to be happy.”

You’ve moved to sit on the bed next to him, “Yes, and I want you to be happy as well. I won’t try and pry what you’ve been doing when you leave, you can tell me another time—“

“Mommy! Daddy!”

“We’re in here, Darling!” Your husband yelled, leaning towards the door. A minute later tiny hurried footsteps approached and Nala’s head popped through the cracked open door.

“I finished my homework, can we go out now? Will daddy come?” Her eyes were shining and you're a bit glad the last question wasn’t directed towards you. That’s a lot of pressure and if you’d have said no, the shine in her eyes might dull. She was clearly excited.

“Of course.” He replied, smiling at her. She ran off to get her coat on and he turned back to you, “we’ll talk about this later tonight, but right now let’s have fun?“ You just laughed and shook your head, letting him help you up.

You ended up going to get ice cream again and then went to Warner Bros.’ Studios, more specifically, the Hogwarts Castle exhibit. You walked with your arms entangled with Jaylyn’s as Nala ran a few steps ahead of you.

“Mommy look!” She pointed the wand you had bought from Oliver’s shop at you before pressing the button, the wand glowed and made a sshoosh noise.

“That’s so cool! Are you gonna be a wizard?” You enthused, watching as she nodded her head proudly. Later, you ended up buying yourself a Gryffindor cloak and scarf, Jaylyn a Slytherine, and Nala a Hufflepuff set.

“I’m gonna miss this.” Jaylyn commented as you two watched Nala walk a couple feet ahead of you exploring the Platform 9 ¾, his words were directed toward you. After this, he wouldn’t get to do a lot of things like this with you anymore.

“Me too.”

That night, after your daughter fell asleep you talked about the divorce. Deciding on starting the tedious process tomorrow.

You woke up alone in the house the next morning, a note with Jaylyn’s handwriting and a doodle drawn by your daughter wishing you a good day and other things. Nala would be with her Grandparents for a couple days and you would see Jaylyn later.

You got dressed in formal clothes for later and put a heavy coat on because it was snowing. Then, headed out for coffee. You went to the café you always went to and ordered the usual Latte.

“Thank you.” You grab the coffee cup from her. The barista looks at you with a look you can only decipher as worry, much to your confusion. You brush it off and continue to turn around, only to crash into a body.

Your coffee jerks out your grasp from the collision, the scalding hot beverage splashing all over their tan blazer, turning it a deep brown. The remnants drip down your sleeves and the cup drops to the floor, but you could care less.

Your eyes almost popped out upon seeing the Saint Laurent logo on the coat.

Guilty, your gaze travels up to your victim; you're in trouble. The woman looks back at you indifferently, frigidly. She doesn’t give away any signs that tell you she’s angry or irritated, and that’s what scares you, she’s unreadable.

You had expected her to jump or react to getting hot liquid spilt on them, but she hadn’t at all.

She has an air about her you think only high class, or the arrogantly rich carry. The power suit says it all. She’s a tall blonde with the face of a model. Her dark eyes burn into your face, most definitely judging you. She was very aloof, you noticed. If anything, it seemed like she was one step away from walking out the door. You jump into action, words spilling out your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going and—” You start to ramble, grabbing a handful of napkins out the dispenser and start dabbing at her blazer, she stiffens uncomfortably.

“Stop.”

“I didn’t even know someone was behind me and now look what I did. I’m sorry. I’ve—” Her nose scrunches up and her brows furrow, you're just smearing it more with those cheap napkins.

She catches the barista's eye who looks at her helplessly, embarrassed for her. The barista tried to warn you someone was behind you.

“Stop.” She repeated, a bit louder, thinking you hadn’t heard her the first time. You were determined to ruin her coat, weren’t you?

“—Your coat, it looks expensive. This coffee is hard to get out of things that are lightly colored. I know firsthand, unfortunately. But you can—” You continued on.

Her jaw clenches and she has a strong urge to roll her eyes. Were you hard of hearing? Blind, too, maybe?

She grabs your wrist, pulling it and the soaked mess you hold away from her. “Stop. You’re making it worse.” Her tone could be considered flat, annoyed. You didn’t hear it that way, though.

You, who had finally registered the hand on your wrist that stopped your clumsy movements, were taken by surprise. Her hand was warm against your skin, you thought. She should feel like a block of ice, not a breathing, living, human. You couldn’t believe the cold, but soothing voice you heard belonged to her.

Your neck heated up in embarrassment. Sometimes you don’t realize your rambling until it’s too late. She let go of you. Your arms dropped uselessly to your sides.

“Oh.” You gazed at her blazer, wincing at how the spot did indeed get worse. You were going to suggest buying her a new coat but she turned on her heel and left the café. Leaving you standing in the middle of the shop with eyes on you, quite dumbly.

“Would you like me to remake that?” The barista’s sympathetic voice reached your ears, she pointed to the cup on the ground.

“Yes…thank you, again.”

You sipped on your coffee as you drove back to your house where you would meet up with Jaylyn to head to the law firm. There, you would file the divorce papers.

You knew this whole ordeal wouldn't be easy, not to mention how long the process takes, but you've done your best to prepare yourself. When you pull into the driveway you honk, two minutes later Jaylyn jogs out and up to your window. He taps on it and you roll it down.

“I just follow you, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the location on maps in case you lose me.” He gives you a curt before hopping in his Range Rover. You pull out the driveway and begin to make your way there.

The Chichu Law firm building was basically a skyscraper, you couldn’t imagine how many floors it had. You walked through the glass doors, Jaylyn by your side, and walked to the front desk.

A man who had been signing papers looked up at you before snorting, he spoke in a croaky voice, “Name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n) and Jaylyn Smith.” He hummed before shuffling through some papers, peeking up at you through his tiny glasses, he picked up the phone.

“Yes…Okay…Main floor. Thank you.”

Soon after his call a brunette woman wearing black formal clothes came from the elevator and strided up to the two of you. Her red lips were formed in a wide smile as she approached, pumps clacking against the marble. Her eyes were catlike, they appraised the two of you and she was decked in Chanel.

“Jennie Kim. It’s nice to meet you two, I’ll be taking Mr. Smith with me and your lawyer will be a good friend of mines, Mrs. (L/n). We’ll go over the papers and help you with any questions.” You both shook her hand for a greeting.

You had to split with Jaylyn, having been assigned different lawyers. You felt intimidated, you always did when you went anywhere that had to do with court. You remember going to court the first time for stealing your father’s car and getting caught at a party. You never did it again after going.

Your heels clacked against the marble floors as you followed the man and you wondered if he was annoyed by the sound because the building was quiet. You walked down many hallways, you would’ve looked around but your eyes were glued to the man’s bald spot. It was just so…shiny. You’d think the few strands of hair he brushed over it were decoration, to enhance what couldn’t be hidden…

You took another left and he gestured to the dark oak door you stood in front of. This was where you were supposed to be. He turned to you.

“Your lawyer will be here in a few minutes, have a good day.”

“Thank you.” He nodded before walking off. You hoped you could remember the way back to the lobby because your help just left.

You opened the door and sat down, eyes curiously wandering around their office. It was very minimal, like everything in the room was here because it was needed, save for the picture frames on the desk turned away from you. There were little bits of personality; a guitar was propped up in the corner, probably being used for free time. There was a mini fridge and a container on the side decked with snacks. Polaroids of different places, people, objects. An incense was being burned, you could smell hints of jasmine, musk, cedar, lemon, and ginger.

You picked at your fingernails as you waited, your gaze being drawn to the picture frames pointed away from you once again. It was a matter of curiosity you told yourself, and besides, it wouldn’t hurt if you just took a peek. You wanted to see what your lawyer looked like, all you were told was that she was a woman.

You reached out, you were in the midst of turning the picture frame around when the doorknob turned and someone walked in. You had no doubt you were caught in the act, touching things that weren’t yours. But to your defense, they didn’t even knock.

“Might I ask what you are doing?” A smoky, accented voice inquired.

You turned around, an innocent smile on your face only for it to fade as the seconds went by, you were met with familiar eyes.

There’s a chill in the air.

Would you like to continue? ٩( ᐛ )و

A/N: This chapter was 5 words away from 3000 lol

[cboffshore]

Situation: it is fall, which means it is almost December, which means it is time to begin my annual installment of my Nya Being A Gotdamb Menace To Nadakhan During Skybound series. (not the actual name, but that's the gist of it.) I am currently in the outline/sandbox writing phase.

Problem: based on the timeline I'm working with and some of the themes I want to mess with, 95% of this installment has to occur in that bridal suite Nya's stuck in during episode 63. based on key points in my outline, this means I need to nail down a solid floor plan, because unfortunately I write fic the same way I used to stage manage, so I must have tabs on all my actors or I literally cannot work.

Solution: rewatch episode 63, which has prolonged shots of the suite.

New problem: upon examining a bunch of screenshots, it appears that this suite is some kind of TARDIS or perhaps an Escher painting, because I can't wrap my head around the layout.

New solution: show you all example screenshots and notes to either get someone to help or just make sure all of us are mad together.

(I would tuck this under a cut to make this more convenient, but I had to try and parse this, and as my followers I insist you all join me, because maybe someone will help me get an answer.Apologies for the potato quality, by the way - I had to Discord myself my notated shots from my phone.)

The first thing hindering me is that Dogshank's big fuckin helmet blocks most of what would otherwise be decent shots of the room. This also includes all shots of the biggest mystery to me: whatever the fuck is happening with the pillars and canopy in the middle. I think there's a better shot of it in 64 that still doesn't clear up what this thing is, besides the fact that it's not a bed or anything actually useful.

Also, somehow, we never get a clear shot of the walls. Like, ever. But in the corners that aren't full of the 'shank, we do get some info about windows!

net info gained: we have two walls of windows and some kind of pointless canopy taking up fifty percent of the floor. also, lots of hexagons.

At the very least, I need info on the windows for Plot Reasons, and boy howdy do I get it! Except it sucks! Pay attention to the notes about the temple shape/weird duplication happening if you want to, but here's my biggest gripe (and I know this is probably because of them reusing the temple assets without thinking too hard about how they designed the interior, but if it's present I feel like I have to work around it): THOSE BARS DO NOT MATCH. That is a DIFFERENT window entirely.

Oh, and speaking of the bars: the only thing consistent between the two shots is perhaps the DUMBEST thing wrong with these windows. Can't see it? That's because it's not even there. Look:

You know that Bionicle movie where the one guy goes "haha makes glass?" That was NOT a sentiment the builders here took to heart. (One plus of this situation: I can make this a plot point. I think. I mean, clearly the Hagemans did it just fine. Tune in in December to find out!)

net info gained: it's probably freezing up there.

Anyway, onto the next issue: unless this conversation takes place at a third wall of windows that I somehow missed (not likely as they're VERY TALL AND OBVIOUS), then this door is either decorative, or it moved, and either way it should open onto dead air. I mean, it doesn't given that Nadakhan waltzes in and leaves with Nya with no incident, but based on the long-distance shot of the mismatched windows... I'm reading too much into this, huh?

Anyway, corporate needs you to find the difference between these two pictures:

net info gained: this is one of the following: some kind of suicide door that keeps moving around to keep Nya trapped inside, me being an idiot, or just really bad foresight on the animator's part.

Also, this isn't part of the suite, but I wanted to include it anyway because... well, why not?

net info gained: Nadakhan's got something against functional windows, I guess. Either this was boarded up to accommodate the giant ceremony space on the ground floor or he's got, like, a darkroom in there where he's got a bunch of cronies trying to replicate that antique photo of Delara, because once again: haha no glass!

JUST WALL.

Anyway: rant over. Send help. I'm giving up and DIYing a floor plan that has somewhere between 1 and 4 walls of windows and furniture that's not just potted plants and weird little side tables.

[meimi-haneoka]

Hello, Cinzia! How are you doing? I have two things I wanted to talk to you about but first let me start by saying thank you for your translation correction posts! I have a habit of reading both translated and original Japanese versions side by side for comparison and my lord… the amount of errors the official translated version had is astounding. So thank you for having the fandom's back on that!

Okay so the first thing I wanted to talk about is the fandom's (understandable) disappointment over the conclusion chapter. But I have a theory on why this might feel disappointing. You see, I also happened to come from the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire fandom and right now it has been 13 years since the release of the last book and everyone has been waiting patiently for it. In the mean time, the fandom has come up with A LOT (and I mean A LOT!!) of theories on how the characters are going to develop and eventually how the books are going to end. This is fun because it keeps the fandom alive. But the biggest con is that the theories are so wildly out there now that everyone deep down knows no one's gonna be satisfied with the ending the author will give us because we have extrapolated too much in this past decade. While we in the CCS fandom didn't have to wait that long, I still think a lot of us had come up with theories while waiting for the next release and maybe because we were basing them our past experiences with Tsubasa and xxxHolic, we assumed that was road to go. Personally, I loved the ending Clamp gave us. I always love a little open ending because then we get take that ending to our little sandbox and make our own stories. But best of all, if the story hasn't ended, IT MEANS WE HAVE A CHANCE TO SEE THEM AGAIN IN THE FUTURE :D!!! Isn't that exciting?? You're absolutely right about how the ending isn't going to please everyone. Because that's literature! The creators of The Matrix once said that art is never stagnant. People will come back to it years later and find something new to relate to and have a newfound love for it!

For my second thing I wanted to share!! As someone who grew up with CCS and now coming back to Clear Card as an adult who has gone through Life™️, I realize how much easier it was for me to pick up on the darker undertones of Clear Card. KAITO WAS NOT OKAY FROM THE TIME HE WAS INTRODUCED!! Like that boy had 10 different alarm bells ringing every time he spoke. And the thing that made me realize that is something from my own life experience. Akiho's past as an abused child is also very easy to pick up on and not something you need to read between the lines. Like it was RIGHT THERE! So idk why people deny that they had miserable lives. Kaito isn't a villain per se. He's an antihero. And even if he was (let's just say it for the sake of it), Clamp's villains are never one dimensional and the same goes for Kaito too. He just needed help. But coming back to my main point, I wonder if Clamp had intentionally gave us a more mature theme for Clear Card, knowing that most of their readers are going to be adults who grew up with the original CCS. The idea of "everything that I can and can't do make me who I am" is so IMPORTANT to remember!! The feeling of lack of self worth haunts all of us. There are many things that Sakura can't do either and that's okay because she has help. AND IT'S IMPORTANT TO ASK FOR HELP!! We cannot do everything on our own (looking at Kaito) and that's okay! This is how Syaoran shows his love too. He knows he is limited (as we all are) but there are things he can do to help Sakura. We always have to remember that because life isn't easy to go through alone. (knocks on Kaito's head)

I'm looking forward to future stories revolving our favorite gang. I wonder if Akiho will travel to meet Eriol some time too. Anyway, I feel like I have taken too much of your time. Thank you for everything you've done for the fandom and if you choose to reply to this message then thank you for that too! Have a nice day :D

Omg hello new follower!! Where were you hiding all this time?? 😂😂 I LOVED receiving your ask and it brightened my day, thank you very much!! See, people, this is someone who gets it 👍 (as I know all my affectionate readers do!! I just need to show off all of you because, among the sea of complaints, the fandom needs to see that there are ALSO lots of people out there who understood Clear Card correctly, and it's not a nonsense story to everyone like they think it is).

Your first point is absolutely logical and I also think that's one of the reasons why the "final" chapter wasn't going to satisfy each and everyone in the fandom: that was just plain impossible from the get go, but adding all that you so cleverly explained here, yeah it was just bound to happen all the more. I still think, though, that if you paid attention, understood the story and the characters correctly along the way, the theories that you as a fan could've think of weren't going to be that far from what actually happened. I managed to foresee a lots of events (some more precisely, some less precisely, some I did completely accidentally) and that's not because I have powers or because I paid CLAMP for it 😂😂 but just because I "listened" to what the story, or rather, what CLAMP were trying to tell me through the story. I picked up the signs and for the most part didn't let them trick me with the red herrings, and even when I made theories I always kept quite "flexible" in case canon didn't go that way (there's also plenty of stuff that didn't go as I thought). The only thing I was always sure about is that this would have had a happy ending. For the all the characters. And yes, open endings can be a present to the fandom, especially the creative one! Moreover, it's an easy way to get back into the series later, in case they want to continue it.

And for the second point....oooh, I know. I KNOW. God, it's always been so clear, especially when they started to show his past as a kid and the fact that he fed himself energetic bars as a "meal"? Or when they said that everything tasted the same to him? That's beyond messed up for a kid and it was immediately clear that he had enormous problems behind that smily mask that he was showing to everyone. Those are clear symptom of depression and god only knows the degree of abandonment Kaito lived in, in his childhood. The fact that he was literally snapped up by an Association of criminals doesn't mean that they intended to raise him or that they were interested in his wellbeing.

The people who deny that Akiho and Kaito had a childhood made of abuse only do so because if they didn't, then they would feel forced to feel empathy and pity for them (lest they appear as insensitive), and they don't want to, because they had already decided they were obnoxious, malicious and unwanted characters a long time ago. Cause their background of abuse is very very clear, especially for Akiho. It's spelled out clearly multiple times. They couldn't go further than what they did because it would've been too jarring for a story like CCS (and I've seen the disturbed comments of a part of the JP fandom, already as it is).

So yeah, Kaito is an antihero at best, or a "reluctant villain", a trope I have seen once in a post on instagram. It fitted him completely. He villainized himself towards everyone else (Sakura & Co.) in order to achieve his only goal, even if that wasn't really in his nature. But he did, for Akiho's sake.

And yes yes yes to all the rest that you've said!! One of the most important lessons we got from Clear Card is that it's important to ask for help when you need it, that you shouldn't take everything on your shoulder......and if you notice that a friend is struggling, don't ignore them but extend a helping hand, cause they probably don't have the strength to ask for help.

I also really hope that we can see our favorite gang in the future, and I keep in my heart a little hope to see Akiho/Kaito/Momo in Holic too!!

Thank you so much for this ask and I hope you'll enjoy the rest of my posts!! 😁❤️

[those-late-night-feels]

Right Place, Right Time

Part 2

Summary: Both you and Loki wrestle with how you feel.

Warnings: angst, slow burn.

A/N: As always, any feedback, comments, reblogs are so much appreciated! | Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If the invasion in New York felt like the blink of an eye, the invasion in London felt like an eternity. The day after Loki left, you and Sara had left the compound, cautiously making your way back to your own apartment. The destruction wasn't as bad as you had expected, nothing compared to the devastation New York had experienced before, but the added security you felt that night because of him would never be forgotten. Glued to the television and your cell phone for any updates on London felt ridiculously obsessive. After two days, the TV was turned off and cell phone put away, promising yourself to only check after Sara was put to bed for the night.

When the Avengers returned home from battle a week later, every news outlet had made it known. There were interviews, press conferences, and panel discussions, all very formal. When you didn't see him for another two weeks after their return, you wrestled with going to the tower to see him. Playing it out in your head, you'd tell the front desk that you were there to see Loki, and then what? Tell him "I'm ready for my kiss now"? The thought alone was cringe-worthy, like a desperate booty call.

It was fine, you told yourself, the two of you had a moment and it passed. What did you think was going to happen with an Asgardian god? That he'd become your boyfriend? You were just a Midgardian who had shown him a little kindness. Honestly, "Midgardian" probably meant simpleton or servant to him. More than likely he'd either forgotten or moved on, which was what you needed to do as well.

It had been almost a month since the attack on London when you saw him again, your heart instantly doing that annoying somersault thing it liked to do around him. Sara had been begging to go to the park for weeks and you finally gave in. He sat down next to you on the park bench as you watched her in the sandpit. You would not be the first to say something, you promised yourself. But it was Sara who grabbed your attention. "Loki!"

She ran up to him, arms out, allowing him to pick her up and set her on his leg. "Hello darling. Have you been keeping your mommy busy while I was away?"

Sara giggled, nodding her head and reaching for his hands. "And what do you suppose is in there?"

"Magic! More magic!"

Loki laughed at her request. "Well, I can't say no to that," and opened his hand to show her a new fireworks display. Sara set her hand out next to his, pretending to emit her own magic. "Alright my darling girl, go play in the sandbox while I talk to your mother."

She hugged him and ran back, not a care in the world. "She really is a sweet girl."

"She likes you."

"I like her." His words were intended for you more than Sara and when he gently placed a hand on your leg, you froze. It would be so easy to give in, to let him sweep you off your feet, but when you looked at him, you knew it would only be temporary.

You placed your hand on top of his and he watched as you guided it off your leg, his face faltering.

"Loki, I like you. I really do. But… I need to protect myself, and… I need us to be just friends."

Silently, he processed your words, tongue pressed into the side of his cheek. "Friends," he said slowly, testing it out on his tongue. "If that's what you wish."

No, it wasn't what you wished. It wasn't remotely close to what you wished for. But the thought of falling in love with him, only to lose him to a war, to a conquest, to another world, was excruciating. You had a daughter to think of. You had yourself to think of.

"Well then, as my friend," he started, cutting into your thoughts. "I would like to invite you to a gathering Stark is having next Saturday."

"Loki…" you warned.

He lifted his hands in defense. "No no, you are my friend. And honestly, there is no one else on this planet that I would enjoy spending my time with more than you."

There was a twinkle in his eye and you weighed your options, unlimitedly deciding that friendships required actual interaction. "Alright, as friends."

Loki went back to the tower, sighing as he pulled out a book on the early conquests of Asgard, a way to distract himself from his swirling mind, and reclined on the chair in his room. This place had become a prison, and just when he thought he found a bright light of redemption, he had squandered it. When he had arrived back on Midgard, he had expected a cold welcome and told Thor just as much. He prepared himself for the glares, the spews of hatred, even the physical attacks which he found to be quite humorous. But he hadn't prepared himself for you.

The kindness you showed, actually wanting to spend time with him, not once bringing up his past, he was absolutely hooked. But, in London, the more he thought of you, the more he believed he would be a poison to you, just as he was to everyone else. One way or another, he would destroy you. He may be a god, you may be a mortal, but he wasn't good enough for you.

When the team arrived back from their mission in London, he didn't go back to you, as much as he desired it. Through FRIDAY he was informed of where you lived and if you and Sara were safe, but he held himself back from seeing you. It was only when he had read those fateful words that you had quoted to him from War and Peace that he decided he needed to see you again.

He knew that inviting you to Stark's party was playing with fire, and possibly playing with your heart. He was, after all, known as the god of mischief. But you had been there, more than once, at the right place, the right time. Perhaps you were meant to be his.

The Avengers Tower stood magnificently in front of you. Taking a breath, you rode up the glass elevator to the penthouse where you had been put on the guest list. Loki had requested to pick you up himself from your place, but you refused, insisting that it was not a date and therefore would arrive and leave alone. When a car was sent to pick you up, you grimaced in annoyance. He was going to make it very hard to stay just friends.

The penthouse was beautifully decorated, lavish lounge furniture, an open bar, and large dance floor. Coat and purse checked, you made your way to the bar, hoping that a glass of wine would quiet the nerves while not making a total embarrassment of yourself later.

"I usually recognize everyone at my parties, but I can't place you." You turned to be face to face with the goateed playboy billionaire, your eyes as wide as saucers. "From your off-the-rack dress, I'm assuming you're a new reporter trying to catch a big break. Am I close?"

"I…" your mouth hung open, not exactly sure what to say.

"Stark, I see you've met my guest," his voice had a deep warning tone. He placed a hand on your shoulder, instantly making you feel safe.

Tony looked from Loki to you, trying to make the connection. "So not a news reporter?"

"No, actually I'm–" but your words were cut off as a burly man called out to the billionaire, his attention pulled away. Loki laughed at your reaction. "Ignore him. That's what I usually do." He came around to face you, doing his best not to look you up and down in the glimmering form-fitting dress. "Am I allowed to tell you how stunning you look tonight?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding your head. The truth was, if you had been attracted to him after the invasion, you were absolutely blown away by how he cleaned up with a crisp suit. You drew your eyes from his frame to your drink, trying to focus. "Funny, I was in the middle of getting ready and someone sent a car to pick me up. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

He grabbed an amber drink from the bartender. "I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

"Well that's good since I sent them away." Loki abruptly looked at you with confusion, to be met with a sly smirk. "Only kidding."

He gave an awkward laugh. Was he actually nervous around you? He shook his head. Get it together, she's only a mortal.

He took the glass from your hand and set it down on the bar, then took your hand and pulled you away, winding his way through the crowds with you in tow.

"Where are you taking me, Laufeyson?" you giggled, following him up a flight of stairs and through a glass door to a balcony. The cool wind made you shiver in the small party dress and his jacket was draped over your shoulders. You looked across the massive city, above the buildings and twinkling lights that stood below and the ocean expanding beyond. "Wow, what a view. It's beautiful up here."

"I wish I could take you up there," he said, pointing up to the starry sky. "Now that is a sight worth seeing."

"What's it like up there?" you asked.

"Brilliant. Beautiful."

"Do you wish you were still up there?"

"Not right now," he said and you could feel his eyes on you. Even with his jacket on you shivered, but not from the cold. You didn't dare turn your head, afraid of what would happen if you did. Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder, taking in the scenery.

"I hope I'm not overstepping," he said after a while, pausing to find the right words, "I'm sorry I didn't come see you when we came back from London. I should have."

You shook your head in feigned ignorance. "It's fine, I just assumed you were busy saving the world."

He took your hands in his, not allowing you to brush it off. "No, y/n. The truth is…you scare me."

"I scare you?" you repeated the words back to him, eyebrow raised.

He smiled, the humor of a god being scared by a Midgardian not lost on him, and tucked a wisp of hair behind your ear. "Absurd, I know. But, you know I am the god of mischief and chaos. And, you are…the opposite of that. You are good and kind and…"

"And…you're afraid I will change who you are."

"No, I'm afraid I will destroy you. Or Sara. I destroy everything I touch." He looked down, thinking of all the hurt that had been caused because of him. "I would never be able to live with myself if you…"

His words trailed off, barely above a whisper. Heart pounding, your fingers interlaced with his and his eyes were drawn from the clasp of your hands to your eyes. You took a small step forward, his words sparking a boldness in you.

"Loki, no one is fully good or fully evil, not even you."

"Yes, but I–"

You cut him off, taking another small step, inching into him. "You did everything you could to save me and Sara during that invasion. Maybe you made some wrong choices in the past, but that's not who you are." His brow crinkled as you placed a hand on his cheek. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"Never," he whispered, and without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and exactly how you had imagined. His fingers hesitatingly threaded through your hair at the back of your neck, closing the centimeters between you, a moan slipping from your mouth. You could have stayed there forever in his arms. When you pulled away, he searched your eyes. "I thought you said you just wanted to be friends."

Smiling, you replied, "You make it very hard to be just friends, Loki."

Buy Loki a coffee 😘

Tags: @goblingirlsarah @trojanaurora

[radellama]

1, 8, 14, and 24!

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Definitely a huge preference towards multi chaptered fics, as I tend to get long winded and my works become expansive. My one shots end up pretty long anyway, but I'll just write what feels applicable to the fic...

And since I'm mostly thinking about really big stories, chapters just work best for me. Plus, when I'm putting more effort into the chapters, I love to organise all the little details and developments I want for everything, micro and macro 😏

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Middle. It's where the meat of it is, where most the scenes I'm imagining as concepts will go... I enjoy beginnings and ends too, but to me a beginning or end being so memorable is due to remembering it with the context of the middle parts. If the middle isn't worth reading, why would I put effort into opening and closing it either, yknow?

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

Man. This is tricky to answer... I keep writing and rewriting my answer to this, but I don't think there's a way to keep it brief.

I'm autistic, so the way I approach and understand emotions is inherently different. I can understand what causes emotions, and I can understand actions informed by emotions, but there's something about emotional behaviour as a whole that I struggle with- for myself and when observing others. Writing emotional scenes in fiction is like a sandbox at times, I can do whatever I want; change the stakes, change the characters response, put limits on their behaviour in context... Anything. And this can make it easier, and harder. What I value the most when writing characters is that they feel authentic and driven. I want THEIR lived context up until that scene to inform the way they'd behave, and often I'll have character outlines for myself when writing bigger and more complex stuff to help with this. I don't really approach writing an emotional scene with the emotions at the forefront, I think I focus on the objective of that scene first, and then break it down into what characters will present internally and externally. Any emotions present will make themselves known, the same way the vibe of a house becomes a home as you start to live in it.

A lot of people are emotionally immature, too, so I don't find it very authentic (or interesting) to write scene upon scene of characters doing corporate therapy talk as they work through things. I don't mind the challenge of trying to construct something emotionally charged, I think I did a pretty good job in the first chapter of my star trek au to demonstrate the emotions of each character and how that conflicted and contrasted with everyone (and hope that it does it's intended job of outlining the characters and providing a base for how far they'll develop later in the story...) I usually know what I want and will spend time figuring out how it's going to happen, and fill in the emotional responses as I'm 'reading the room' of the scene. There have been times where I've written something emotional, and while understanding that it is emotional and putting effort into conveying it, I'm still very surprised when people tell me that it made them emotional. Idk, it's hard to really articulate this clearly, but in the same way I spend ages writing and rewriting dialogue for my characters so that it feels authentic and flows in the way I want, I do that with the emotions of the scene and how I want to demonstrate the characters reacting and processing the emotion. It's iteration upon iteration, built up over a lot of agonising over certain word choices.

I don't think I ever feel what my characters feel as I write them, I have a bit more of a detached feeling because I'm the author. I can feel sympathetic towards the characters, and understand or feel similarly, but I'm not them, so I won't feel it to the full extent... All stories are inherently voyeuristic, to varying degrees, and that sense of peering into a curated version of events and certain characters mindsets can be quite intimate. I'm just relaying that intimacy with the characters and story, and I feel my own way about it, which is different to the characters I'm writing, and probably very different to people who read what I wrote.

And as for personal experiences... I draw on them in a sense of 'write what you know.' And this isn't a literal 'only write what you yourself have experienced,' cause let's be real, even in biographical media, it's dramatised and you haven't literally experienced the exact same. Instead, talking more broadly, I know how I live my life as a person, and have been keenly watching, observing and joining others in their lives too. When you're writing creatively, you have to use that creative muscle to figure out how characters will react. Unlike my OC Harland, I haven't gone through a heartbreak and betrayal so great that it is a deciding factor in a war I want no part in- but, I have had to cut ties with people I used to call friends because they're acting in ways I can't understand or condone, I've felt stressed over when friend groups split and there's a background assumption that you need to pick sides, and I've felt the weight of knowing certain decisions I make will be responsible for more than just myself. I'm not Harland, dealing with the emotional climax of his story, but I am me, and I can use my lived/observed experiences to inform how he would act as a base, and construct him in all his complexity by comparing his reactions to mine. It's easy to go 'I wouldn't have done that;' so you gotta take the time to think on why you wouldn't have, and why that person did.

Anyway, you see why this is tricky for me to answer lol. I think there's some weird internal logic I have that makes me approach this kinda stuff from a more detached and critical view, so I have to put effort into understanding all aspects of what's going on. And that's just in my day to day, so at least when writing I can put those skills to use for something entertaining!

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

This is hard, cause I try to ignore advice that I don't think is applicable, and promptly forget once I've moved on.

I guess I'll say something that I heard discussed a lot when I was studying film, and what I heard people parroting when I mentioned them, which was to 'not get tropey.'

I HATE that trope means the same thing as cliche to everyone, cause they're not the same. A trope is simply how you describe the particulars of a situation in fiction, and you can use them to help figure out what sort of genre your work belongs to and what your target audience will be. Trying to avoid tropes is like trying to build a brick house without bricks. Cliches, on the other hand, are when a certain trope has become so overdone that you know exactly how something will play out, and it's become stale due to seeing it too much. And in my observation, tropes become cliche when the writers are just copying what works without thinking about WHY it works, or how it applies to the narrative. You absolutely should get tropey with it, cause how else will you have a story? The important part is that you're not just going through the motions of what's commonly used in the type of story you're writing, and instead working on purposefully including what you put to page.

Idk if that's clear enough to those who haven't studied film/narrative in some capacity, so I'll say what my response was when students would ask for help avoiding tropes in their screenplays in our mentoring sessions: don't worry about the hypothetical audience reaction before you've finished writing the story. Don't think about tropes and cliches and whatever else we use when deconstructing a narrative to analyse it, you haven't got a finished story to analyse. Just write the story you want to tell, and be deliberate about it. Everything's been done before, but this story hasn't been done your way yet, so just focus on your writing first.

Send some asks from here

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hello this is for the matchup event<3 I'd like to matched up with a ghoul please and I hope y'all have a lovely day<3

I'm transmasc who presents mostly masc I'm queer and acespec. Personality wise I'm a pretty big clown, I cannot take a single thing seriously unless needed. Despite that I am frequently described as a loner, I have PTSD and do have quick and drastic changes in mood if triggered so I can be perceived as unstable. I also have anxiety and depression. Otherwise I'm pretty calm and relaxed, much preferring to stay in and relax than do anything that exciting.

Hobbies wise I'm a total nerd I love videogames (specifically sandbox, open world survival craft management games generally 'softer' games) and I draw digitally. I also garden frequently and watch way to many shit tv shows for the drama of it. My favorite video games currently are oxygen not included, Splatoon 3, and subnautica. I also love comic books and quantum physics drama (yes I love the drama it is surprisingly delicious)

This post is a part of Match-up Event. The Event ended on July 15th.

Your match is... Aether

You two go around and mess with others (Sodo) together. He doesn't take anything seriously either.

Unless, of course, it comes to your mental health. As goofy as he is, he notices your mood changes.

And if it gets bad, he will scoop you up and take you some place safe so you can slowly chill out.

He's there with you the entire time. If you want to be held, he's holding you. If you want space, he's just gonna sit in the same room, just far enough for you to be comfortable. And if you don't want attention, he'll just chill around, but still won't leave the room.

What I'm saying is, he adapts to whatever you tell him. But he will not leave you alone.

He'll do his best to cheer you up. Tells you dumb stories, comes up with stupid jokes and pick-up lines... He's 100% willing to make an idiot out of himself for your sake. Whatever helps.

He does his best to keep all your potential triggers in mind and prevent anything from happening. He's goofy, but he's very serious when it comes to his feelings towards you.

Absolutely loves the idea of staying home to cuddle with you. Adores it.

And he's a big buff guy! He loves holding you close! Just look at his arms and tell me they don't feel welcoming.

Aether's a gamer and you can't convince me otherwise.

Leave him alone on Mineraft for a night and you'll wake up with a so fucking many things that should not be logically possible to make in one night.

He's just... so good at games automatically? It does not make sense, honestly.

Lets you win, though.

You know how there's this meme that if you can't beat a game, you get your sibling? Well, you get Aether and he somehow gets it done within three attempts.

Carries your stuff while you garden. He's not very good at handling plants, but if there's something heavy, he's gonna carry it behind you like a very excited puppy.

Watches shows with you and gossips about the characters with you like it's real.

All in all a totally fun guy for you <3

~

Written by Jez.

[at-thestillpoint]

40 questions meme: 11,13 and 37👀

[forty questions!]

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

I don't really think of writing as a passion or a hobby. Rather, it's something I feel compelled to do. (I realize this is incredibly self-aggrandizing phrasing. I don't mean that I feel called to it, but rather that there are questions or scenes or potential worlds I'm moved by and can't get out of my head, except by writing them.) But also, I love words and language and picking apart how we put them together to make people feel things. I enjoy playing in that sandbox—the act of writing—and at the end of the day, I write because it's what I want to do most with my free time (and even more with my not-free time). So I guess, in that sense, it is both.

Though, really, is writing actually fun?

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Deeply paraphrasing here, and others have said this much more eloquently, but simply: You can't edit nothing. None of the other advice matters until you have that first, scrappy draft, so get it down on paper and go from there. (I am not taking this advice very well right now.)

37. Talk about your current wips.

My current WIPs are, unfortunately for all of us, the same WIPs I have been talking about for a good six months, plus a few more! Below the cut because I have SO MANY??? (Send help.)

We have on the TG:M docket:

The other FWB fic (love you like a lover should): The Google doc for this was created in March 2023! It is still nowhere close to being done! This is the story that started as a foray into Rooster/Phoenix and quickly evolved into an exploration of Hangman/Phoenix if Phoenix had an unrequited crush on Rooster but started banging Hangman instead.

The Olympics AU (no rules in breakable heaven): Exactly what it sounds like! And also a past lovers to exes/enemies to angry lovers to second chance romance fic. (How many tropes is too many tropes?) I had a good two-day run with this during NaNo, but then work knocked me on my figurative ass, and I haven't been able to make progress since then. My goal is to finish this before the opening ceremony this summer. This is looking less and less achievable.

The politics AU: This is mostly just vibes right now. It's very roughly outlined, but the words aren't flowing yet. I got the idea futzing around on Pinterest and realizing Glen Powell really does look Like That. I'm also just really compelled by different permutations of ambitious woman/arrogant asshole, and the political world is made for stories like that.

wreck my sundays: I heard Maggie Rogers's new single and needed to write something, because "My friend Sally's getting married / And to me that sounds so scary" resonated a little too hard, while "take my money, wreck my Sundays" wrecked me. This will have a spot of fake dating. I want to keep this in the 6,000-7,000 word range, which is ironically what's keeping me from writing it, because my deep-seated need to provide context and world build is making it too verbose, and that is not a rabbit hole I want to go down.

For other universes, we have:

the truth about dreams: A Sally-focused companion piece to i dreamed you a sin and a lie. For some reason, it's been a lot harder to write this one. (Some reason: Poseidon's POV is much more interior, because it's all speculative. To give Sally's POV justice, I actually need to build the world.) And yes, I did have fun looking up songs with "horse" in the title, because I am hilarious. What serendipity that Horses fits so well.

An untitled coda to The Artful Dodger that explores what would happen if Governor Fox gave Jack a pardon, from the Governor's perspective. Governor Fox's "my wife and daughters think I'm a simpleton, and they're probably right" got to me the same way Daisy Buchanan's "a beautiful little fool" line did. There is something there and it is incredibly compelling!

[misspickman]

good morning! give me your opinions on ... okay this is hard i'm trying to come up with something that a) is a decent question that's not just "do you like honeydew milk tea" or something and also b) i genuinely don't know your take on for real. and the problem is that we yell about our takes at each other like daily. um.

okay how's this. open ended. in your opinion, what's the best vibe for tim's hero identity in the future? (not like rebirth future but like. the general postcrisis sandbox where we prefer to live.) any thoughts on names, costumes, etc?

...but also now that i'm thinking about it. in your opinion whats the best cold bevvy?

Hii<3 its good u specified not rebirth actually bc for rebirth i have no idea theyve made him so boring i cant think of anything that could be fun, but in a pre flashpoint future.. Im trying to think of something that would be thematically appropriate/something i can see tim coming up with but im so stumped bc both robin and red robin have been someone elses first and tim feels so tied to being a legacy guy, which isnt bad but. U know. I will take anything but robin at this point. Ive seen cardinal and rook around and i think you mentioned red heron once? Which are all great i enjoy them and i would love to see them. Britta and i also talked a lot about rosefinch but thats for a specific au... The thing is all these feel very random? I like them but i dont think tim would google a list of birds and just pick one he wants to be now (which is what i do. When trying to come up with a new tim identity) like i would like it to be something thats meaningful, like nightwing got offered to dick with a fitting story and robin is already a symbol, but i cant think of anything for tim rn.. It doesnt even have to be a bird tbf as much as i love a good bird. So im open to ideas i would love to hear what takes people have on this

Design wise i think ive been pretty loud about how much i love red robin in my ideal (and laziest) world i would simply keep that suit but thats not how it works.. I would definitely keep the cowl thats my one strong stance of the costume. Like aside from the fact that its sick in a freak way it is actually a good mask that conceals the face which. I know comics dont tend to care about but i do and i like it so<3 I also like this second design i think something like that could be fun it would never happen in rebirth but a girl can dream basically predictably enough my ideal costume would just be a modified red robin costume

Best cold drink imo.. Pineapple juice. Mango juice. Those multivitamin juices. I love a good cocktail a lot also a friend has unfortunately got me into hell (energy drink) and the cherry flavored one especially rules

[mask131]

I made a post about it a long time ago: there is a cyclical phenomenon in the world of literature where suddenly you have a massive rise in popularity and appreciation of "behemoth-novels", and then it is rejected just as hard because everybody gets bored by it and wishes for something simpler and smaller.

I'll explain. I was thinking about the trend born at the turn of the 21st century, to not just make a fantasy book, or a fantasy trilogy, as it was usually the case until now, or just a series of short stories and novellas, but rather grow massive series of very thick novels by the dozen. And how, in return, it caused an immense love, appreciation and admiration for these "behemoth-sagas", these enormous series that have as much pages and characters as the Bible, takes decades to be completed, and that you can't possibly hold in your arms even if you use both. Doing just one petty little fantasy novel was seen as a kid playing in a sandbox - while the big boys and big girls did big books. This trend was followed by the rise in popularity and glory of hard worldbuilding in fantasy - and I am not speaking of "condensed hard worldbuilding" a la Tolkien, no I am speaking of expensive, if not hyper-expensive, hard worldbuilding.

You know the series I am talking about. The "door-stoppers", the "table-holders", these series where you are told by fan "You must REALLY commit to the thing". Robin Hobb's sagas ; The Wheel of Time ; A Song of Ice and Fire ; the Sanderson book series - well, you know the kind of "mega-fantasies".

Now, while these series are still considered classics and landmarks of fantasy, they are falling in disfavor due to people discovering or rediscovering the joys of simpler fantasy stories, of fantasy trilogies, duologies or even stand-alone novels. It is not a complete shift, as you still find a lot of advocates and defenders of the "mega-sagas" of fantasy - but this was the starting point of my thought about the cycles of literature.

Because this whole shift of balance in English-speaking fantasy literature (a shift that did not exist in French-speaking fantasy since French authors are not keen on mega-sagas and are more into single novels to trilogies) ; this whole shift, from a French person's point of view, happened already. Many times before.

France is known as one of the big literature countries. We are the land of the books! And of the authors! And of the harsh critics! As such it is very easy to pick up quick summaries and overviews of French literature as a whole (and by extension European literature, but since I am French I'll focus on French stuff) - and when you do that, you see the exact same cycle happen. We call them by many names: "romans-fleuves" (river-novels), "romans-sagas", (saga novels), we call them cycles and frescos and monuments ; but they keep returning every one or two centuries, they become all the fashion and all the trend and all the fad, and then the hype dies out and they are rejected for being too heavy, too big, taking too much place on the shelf, and instead of bloated, obese literature, people turn to skinny novellas and slender stories.

The oldest clear manifestation of this phenomenon in French literature is without a doubt the first part of the 17th century. The 17th century opened with the creation of some of the biggest and longest novels there ever was in French literature - and people LOVED it. They were the bestsellers, they were what everybody talked about, they were the model everybody referenced and followed. The most famous of them was "L'Astrée" by Honoré d'Urfé, one of the monuments of 17th century literature - one novel published over 20 years. Because it is divided into six parts... these six parts are composed of forty stories... and these stories are told over sixty books. Another famous example is the Scudéry siblings "Artamène ou le Grand Cyrus", which still holds the title of longest novel of French literature, with the record of over 2 100 000 words published over four years.

These novels defined the trends and culture of 17th century literature and yet... Nobody knows them today. They are not taught about in school. You ask a random French person on the street, they never heard about it. They haven't been published since centuries due to their enormous size - and even if they get reprinted today, it is only in professional, annotated editions for study. Because by the turn of the 17th century, the enormousness and "constant flow" of those river-novels tired out and bored the same readers that had hyped it up - and the next generations of writers came up in return with the first "true" novellas and short novels of French literature, which became massive hits overshadowing the river-novels as "has-beens", and unlike the Astrée or the Grand Cyrus which fell into oblivion, they are still being taught about as early as middle school: La Princesse de Clèves for example. This was also by the end of the 17th century that the genre of the fairytale knew a true boom and became all the trend: Perrault's fairytales for example, which are literaly one of the founding parts of French culture today.

But this entire phenomenon repeated itself in the 19th century! Because when you think of the monuments of the 19th century literature in France, you think of two mega-sagas that have nothing to envy to today's fantasy-behemoths. On one side, Balzac's Comédie Humaine, on the other Zola's Rougon-Macquart. Just like the fantasy behemoths, they are enormous ensemble of novels sharing a same universe (the Comédie Humaine is a set of 48 novels and just as much short stories all happening in parallel, at the same time, in neighboring areas ; the Rougon-Macquart cycle is made of twenty novels detailling a family's adventures throughout generations). Just like these fantasy behemoths, they also have a great care of realism and "hard worldbuilding". Zola was the "pope of naturalism" (the hardcore branch of realism), and his books were so thoroughly researched and so faithful to reality they are still used by historians today ; while Balzac delved much more into fantasy and supernatural and mysticism, he also was one of the great realist authors, who made sure his novels were coherent with each other, took care to depict the real-life cities and landscapes of his time, and through his work he intended to paint the most exact portrait (or caricature) of the society of France, of its classes and archetypes, as sort of gigantic fictionalized documentary. And just like the fantasy behemoths, they are now landmarks of literature considered classics of the canon.

... And just like them, while they are great classics and admired models, people also complain about the books being too thick, about there being too many characters, of the novels taking up all the shelves, and conclude that trying to get involved into these constructed universes is just losing your time.

The only difference between these two literary monuments and the fantasy-behemoths (outside of the fact one is fantasy the other is not... Even though Balzac included supernatural stories and "fantastique" elements in his Comédie humaine) is that the fantasy-behemoths tend to be one enormous series that never end but tells one core story around a given core of characters. Balzac and Zola's ensembles are rather a set of independant novels that can be read as stand-alones, but that have recurring characters, references to events happening in other stories, and form when put together a greater whole (the Rougon-Macquart cycle especially since it tells the story of one family from its beginning to its end).

I honestly don't have any point with this. There was no goal for this thought experience - I just wanted to point out how the enthusiasm and borderline fanaticism for "mega-fantasies" recalls these enormous projects of the like of Balzac and Zola, and the forgotten successes of the river-novels of the 17th century. Literature is a cycle that keeps repeating itself...

[sofwrites]

Hi - I’m the anon who loves Welcome to the Digital Age, Babe. I hope you don’t mind, but I was inspired to play in the sandbox from one of the messages we exchanged. This is like a really really shorthand version of what I think happened when Colin called someone the wrong name in bed. I guess trigger warning if you don’t like to read about Colin and anyone else but also not really. PS - I have actually never done this before. I just silently read fics but I guess I was feeling inspired : )

It’s a few days before Colin is supposed to meet Penelope in Rome. He’s at some bar in Cyprus with some fellow travelers he’s befriended over the last couple weeks. One of them invited some more friends who invited some more friends and so on. At this point, the group is made up of a few people Colin somewhat knows and strangers. He’s been chatting up this tiny dark-haired girl who beelined to him once she and her friends joined. Her friend keep shooting her obvious sideways looks and pretending they’re coughing but actually giggling. And Colin knows he’s getting lucky tonight.

And ordinarily, he would be thrilled, the frequency of this occurring never taking away from the delight and anticipation. But tonight, he’s feeling out of sorts. He’s been planning this Rome trip for days, probably more intensely than he’s ever planned any trip for himself or even any trip with family. He’s been to Rome before. He knows it. But this is different. He can’t just take Penelope to the usual haunts. This is her first real solo trip and he hates how awkward she feels about traveling with him (it’s obvious). He knows she probably prefers Eloise but since that can’t happen, he wants to make it the Best Trip Ever.

So he’s distracted when Emily (the tiny dark-haired girl) bats her eyelashes at him. He’s thinking about whether he should take Penelope to Mercato Centrale or Testaccio Market when Emily pretends to bump into him. He’s questioning whether he should take her to the Coliseum the first day or the second day after she’s settled in when Emily leans in to whisper in his ear. But because he’s human, he hears her obvious request to “get out of here.” And because he’s not an idiot, they get out of there.

Soon they’re back at Colin’s hotel room and things start heating up. But he’s still having trouble staying present. He’s not thinking about the itinerary any more - that would be an obvious buzzkill. But he’s just…not feeling it? No, they can’t be right. This girl is exactly his type and she so very clearly wants him. But he cannot summon any kind of desire for her right now, even when she’s standing in front of him in only a black bra and underwear. This is not okay. He scrunches up his eyes and digs back into a library of flings and one night stands to ground him.

Suddenly, something comes to him and he just latches on to it. He sees soft, flushed skin and eyes so blue he sees the ocean. He feels red locks of hair in his hands and curling over his body. He touches curves and curves for miles. A familiar body in a black lingerie set that is just driving him wild. The image becomes clearer and clearer and so so familiar and yes, this is exactly it. He is gone. Things are heating up as Colin becomes more enthusiastic, finally stroking and caressing, desperate to be closer, until he hears it…

“Oh my god, Penelope…”

Embarrassingly, it still takes him a beat too long to realize that whatever was going on has now abruptly stopped. He opens his eyes and sees…not Penelope. Shit. Emily is staring back at him, anger and humiliation in her eyes. The next few minutes go as expected. Emily angrily pulls herself together, throwing some choice insults at Colin who can only offer weak apologies and an offer to pay for an Uber. Once Emily has slammed his door shut, Colin lays back on his bed. What the fuck was that? What the absolute fuck… He throws his arms over his face, willing himself to sleep but he sleeps fitfully, thinking about a familiar redhead in black lingerie.

A few days later when Colin meets Penelope at the Rome airport, the open shoulder of her shirt reveals a black bra strap that falls down her arm slightly as she bends over to pick up one of her bags. When she looks up, Colin (who was chattering away the moment he saw her) is now pink and quiet. He stays that way, making occasional comments, for the rest of the way out of the airport while Penelope frets that she’s making things awkward for this trip that Colin is forced to join.

A year and a half later, after a long overdue conversation and an even longer overdue kiss, Penelope pulls off her shirt to reveal a black bra and Colin (to his extreme embarrassment) loudly exclaims, “Fucking finally.”

Hi, my dear! I was so happy to see this message in my inbox 🥰 and I'm so honored that Digital Age inspired you to try and write for the first time!

he hates how awkward she feels about traveling with him (it’s obvious)

This made me smile so hard for some reason I love him being able to feel how awkward she feels through their texts and things. It's like I'm getting to be a reader of my own fic and it's so fun skdfnlsdkf

He's having trouble staying present??? 😭 my baby boy this is kind of cute idk

"eyes so blue he sees the ocean" 🥺🥺🥺 aw???

😬😬😬 oof okay colin not super smooth but... yeah.

And AW the end 😭 no this was so cute? I love this entire plotline (although I am sorry to Emily, homegirl didn't deserve that) and how it would fit into WTTDA! I would happily put a stamp of approval on this addition<3

Thank you so much for popping this in my inbox! If you want to, I would definitely encourage you to keep writing :-) this was so fun to read and had my grinning (and cringing). And the last line made me giggle.