hi love!!! for the fic title asks, could I give you: and then they kiss as the prompt 🌝

Jo!! this idea just came to me like lightning, what do we think?

Frankie Morales and his little girl moved in next door near the end of summer, and your first thought had been, shit. He's hot. Thankfully you'd had the thought in the privacy of your own home (while looking at them out the window), so when you'd accidentally said it out loud, no one heard you but your cat. You'd smiled at the way Frankie had tossed her in the air -- you'd learned later she was 6 -- and laughed when she'd giggled and danced around her new front lawn. It was all very adorable and very much contributing to your brand new crush on your neighbor. Meeting them the next morning as you'd walked to your car to go to work had only made it worse. When Frankie learned you were a teacher, he smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. (--so you'll be meeting this one in a few years. --maybe more than a few, I teach middle school. --ah, so you're a saint, then.) Your crush didn't go away with more exposure, as you babysat sometimes and exchanged dinners at each others houses. In fact, it got worse. And then one day you were having dinner with the Morales duo, and little Elena demanded that you and Frankie act out her favorite scene from the newest Disney movie she'd fallen in love with. You'd complied, eventually, and found yourself dancing around their living room to a cheesy cartoon song, looking straight into Frankie's eyes. The room disappeared around you and you got swept up in the moment, in the feeling of Frankie's arms around you and the smooth way he guided you through the dance. (Later he would admit to plenty of practice sessions with Elena.) When the song ended the two of you stared at each other, unmoving, until Elena shouted, "and then they kiss!" Shocked into motion, Frankie obeyed without thinking, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. As if he only then realized what he'd done, he pulled away slowly, studying your reaction as Elena cheered in the background. The growing smile on your face caused a grin of his own, and after Elena went to bed, you gave that scene another run through. Without the audience, this time.

I think these are getting longer lol

send me a made up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write for it

Fic title: I almost told you that I loved you

now go! 👀

I had a few different ideas for this but then I decided to settle for this:

It's time for See You Soon -tour. Joker Out are in Finland. Bojan has written new songs (Šta bih ja and Bluza) that are about Jere. He has had a crush on Jere ever since Eurovision but hasn't told Jere about it. Bojan has been just pining and pouring his heart into song lyrics.

Then, Jere asks Bojan what the songs are about. They have had lovely time together in Finland. They have had their regular shenanigans, they have watched movies together, cuddled up on the couch and maybe they have fallen asleep in each other's arms. Bojan has ruffled Jere's hair as usual and they have had moments when they have just stared at each other quiet, maybe glanced at lips but nothing has happened.

Bojan considers for a moment that he tells Jere what the songs are really about. Who they are really about. That he is in love with Jere. They have had such a lovely time and maybe Jere feels the same way, right? And Bojan starts to ramble, blushing a little but then he gets nervous and scared and backtracks, not actually answering Jere's question about the songs.

And when Bojan sings the songs first time at Kultsa, he pours his heart into his performance, wishing that Jere hears him, feels the hopeless longing he has for him, has had for almost a year.

. . .

Thank you for sending this ❤️

send me a made up fic title and I'll tell what I'd write for that

and another one for the fic title asks! <3

saturn's rings

Ohhhh this one is fun!

Saturn's Rings: "All of this has happened before. All of this will happen again.” Over and over again, Bill and Laura find themselves stuck in a loop witnessing each others untimely death. Can they figure out how to break out or will they succumb to time?

Hello, good evening!

Fic title: Two dozen lives and empty quiver

Have a nice day,

Thurs

Evening, Thursday! Thanks for the ask :D

This would be a reincarnation fic showing the Ranger Corps through time - 24 lifetimes, to be exact, covering, shall we say, 1.5 millennia of the Ranger Corps (assuming that this particular Ranger isn't reincarnated right away after death). We would follow this particular Ranger from the establishment of the Corps, through significant moments in history, the Age of Exploration, the Industrial Revolution, and, finally, Modernity, where Rangers no longer use bows as part of their job description.

Ask game! Send me a made up fic title and I'd tell you what I'd write to go with it.

Made up fake fic title!

Then Without Warning

Then without warning, David was kissing Patrick. Kissing like they haven’t seen each other in days.

I feel like there’s a couple ways this could go a couple different ways. My brain is saying angsty, with a touch of one of them gets mildly hurt but nothing too bad, just bruised.

Or it could totally be passionate PWP say on an island honeymoon, they really you know connect.

what's another title. uh. i can't even think of titles for my own stuff "pick him up (like a kitty cat)"

this is *** ****/*****/**** *** of craigslist

musicians, 1, 2, 14, 15

thanks, friend! will pop the answers behind a cut as it got a little long!

(ask me a question about one of my fics)

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Mmm, this one is a little weirdly worded. Taking it to mean the inspiration of the whole idea, it started with a piece of art my friend Jacq created (here), and it existed as only the opening scene for a long while. I kept thinking about it, and started to talk to another friend about it, and it started to grow legs and became one of the easiest things I have written despite it's length. It was a story that for me, needed to be told.

2: What scene did you first put down?

The opening scene. I generally write linearly for the most part, and normally have to start with the opening to find my way into the fic. Quite literally, in this sense. The opening moment stuck out to me and it didn't change from the initial idea through all of the edits.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Taking joy in the small things and learning how to be true to your authentic self. Prioritising resting and finding fulfillment in what you want and not what others want.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I could do it. I had a long-held belief that 'I only write one shots' or 'short fics'. I well and truly had to dismantle that belief as this clocked in at 170k words by the end.

7 about voicemail sings a wreck and you are in love

7. where did the title come from?

voicemail sings a wreck

**spoilers below**

It comes from a lyric from “April to Death” by flower face (recommended to me by @peachade 💘) that goes “Voicemail sings a fucking wreck.” The song has absolutely nothing to do with the fic but that line stood out to me because of how perfectly it fit with the storyline in the fic of Harry leaving Louis a voicemail that certainly sings of a wreck in that it ended things between them and broke Louis’ heart </3

EDIT: i’m stupid and forgot to answer the second one sjsjs

you are in love

“you are in love” comes from a taylor swift song of the same name!! i just thought it was perfect in that it’s a series of snapshots of a couple falling in love just like this fic contains many snapshots of people falling in love :’)

anyways it actually made me really happy that you asked about that fic (even though i almost forgot it 😭) because it’s my least read fic but it holds a special place in my heart!!

thank you for sending! 💘

send me a fic title ask

So for the fic title thing? Coffee & Chaos?

DEAD TIRED.

Danny moves to Gotham where he ends up opening a coffee shop titled: Chaos Cup because he's found out all food/drinks he makes comes to life. However: it's tastier then ANY other food, and healthier. Also, you don't need to like kill the objects. It's more 'giggly bubbles' and 'cooing cookies'.

So Danny can make this amazing kind of food and drinks, and opens a place in Gotham where he pretends to be a meta who has this weird power. It's very much a 'haha' trend for some, but most come back because it is delicious.

And one of them is Tim Drake who freaking LOVES this place. The coffee is delicious and the treats? He loves it. (He also likes biting into a cookie shaped like a cat that meows while holding eye contact with Damian who is a second away from murder). There's also the cute owner.

Summary: Just... silly? Not really 'coffee shop AU' as Tim makes sure that he never crosses a line. Cute fluff to.

Pairings: Tim/Danny

Notes: It would be so much fun to have Dani be a toddler here because Tim being a dad is so much fun to me. But also: imagine Danny being the 'future ghost king' and Tim having to go through trials to win his hand or there being a courting process.

Fake summary please for this made up title:

Flip me off and I’ll flip you over

🎸 Flip Me Off and I’ll Flip You Over

It had been an honest mistake, hand to God.

Louis had seen him last night, two rows away from the front, eyes closed and mouthing along perfectly to All This Time, his sweaty tendrils framing his forehead and the sleeves of his Faith in the Future tee artfully cut off.

They had made flirty - some would even say, obscenely heated - eye contact under the bright lights.

That’s how Louis knew about the dimples; that’s why Louis ran to the barricade three songs too early and a little too far to the left. He didn’t actually see if one of the hands that had so desperately clutched at him belonged to Dimples, but he’d thought it safe to think so. (No one stood that close to the stage, totally dolled up in their little outfit just to make eyes at the artist all night and not try to touch him. Please.)

But the thing was, Louis was also just a wee bit hungover this morning; cranky, headache-y, and severely under-caffeinated after a late night at the club and an inhumane five a.m. radio interview call time. Not to mention being unceremoniously manhandled into the car by Joni after some fans got a tad too excitable at the entrance.

So when he saw Dimples for the second concert in a row, now strategically stationed outside his dressing room wearing leather trousers in 36 degree weather, smiling at Louis like that…

Well, he’d just kind of… assumed.

“Bit too early to be this thirsty for a back room shag, darling, innit?” Louis snarked over the pounding in his head. Though he squeezed his eyes shut behind his dark sunglasses, he didn’t miss the startled look on Dimples’ face.

“W-wh—” he stammered, seemingly bewildered. “I—I beg your pardon?”

Louis would roll his eyes at the impeccable feigned innocence if he wasn’t so dizzy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he peeked one eye open at the same time he lifted his coffee up to his mouth. Caffeine would save him.

He smirked a little at the deep blush on Dimples’ cheeks; at how caught out he clearly was. The movement only made Louis’ head hurt more.

“Posh little thing, aren’t ya?” He observed off-handedly, wincing at the reverberating sounds inside his head over the brim of his cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he clocked the pen in Dimples’ hand and he tipped his head as far as he could without giving himself vertigo to point at it. “Want me to sign your chest or something? Will that get you to leave me alone?”

Dimples narrowed his eyes at Louis in what seemed like the perfect cross between confusion and annoyance. “Ex-cuse me—”

“Come on then,” Louis interrupted impatiently. With a heavy sigh, he gestured with his palm to hand over the pen. “Just lift up your shirt and let’s get this over with—”

“Oh good, you’ve met!” Oli’s voice was so loud it made Louis flinch. Well, it was either his volume or the two forceful slaps he clapped on Louis’ back as he beamed as Dimples. “Louis Tomlinson,” he said, with a dramatic drumroll-type tone to his voice, “meet the legendary Harry Styles, youngest senior concert critic in Rolling Stone magazine history!”

To say those were the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment would have been incorrect. Mostly because the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment were the next six: “He’s here to review your tour!”

Louis lifted his horrified gaze to Harry’s face slowly. Their eyes locked, anger flashing across Harry’s features as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ironically, the lanyard of his press pass was now painfully obvious where it hung around his neck.

“Charmed,” he deadpanned.

Whoops.

— or, Louis Tomlinson’s World Tour was off to a great start until he royally fucked up by mistaking a world famous concert critic for a groupie. Then again, it’s not like anyone said Harry Styles couldn’t be both.

fic title asks

I'm collecting and linking all of these ideas in one place so I can find them later (and maybe write them)

from anon: same mistake, another time - Javier Peña x reader

from @lover-of-books-and-tea: sons and moons - Din Djarin x reader

from anon: Boys Don't Cry - Dieter Bravo x reader

from @goodwithcheese: The Hummingbird and the Thorn - two ideas, Joel Miller x reader, Marcus Pike x reader

from @galactic-basic: and the beat goes on - two ideas, Marcus Moreno x reader, Dieter Bravo x reader

from @ozarkthedog: Forever and a Day - Marcus Pike x reader

from @secretelephanttattoo: Banana Split - Frankie Morales x reader

from @penvisions: will you come if I snap my fingers? - Javier Peña x reader

from @kedsandtubesocks: thank you for the venom - Joel Miller x reader

from @undercoverpena: and then they kiss - Frankie Morales x reader

from @secretelephanttattoo: Loose Change - Marcus Pike x reader

prompt here: send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

here's a harder title because you're too good at stories ;-*

"All those shrimp colors are just a lie"

for context: seems that the fact how shrimps see more colors has been debunked

(send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it)

Too good at stories? Anon, please! But thank you for the kind words ❤️ *hugs*

I had to think about this for a while but then it clicked. This is quite silly and maybe stupid, I guess, but hear me out:

Soulmate(ish) AU where everyone experiences love by synesthesia (example: experiencing feelings as colours). So the more colours you feel or taste, the more compatible you are. Bojan is taught at school that it's possible to feel and taste colours that the human eye can't see. They call these the shrimp colours. They are described as feeling overwhelming, something other wordly, something that the mind can't quite comprehend but that are definitely there (or are they?).

So of course Bojan wants to find the person who will make him taste and feel those. Bojan doesn't know anyone that has found their shrimp colour soulmate. Some don't even believe in those and say that it's not true. Most people find their so-called rainbow soulmate, though. Someone who makes you feel all and taste all the colours of the rainbow. And some people are just content with not finding even that.

So, Bojan sets out to find his shrimp colour soulmate. Along the way he falls head over heels for Jere who happens to be his rainbow soulmate. But Bojan still wants to find his shrimp colour soulmate until he has to face the probability of one not even existing.

(and yes this would be bojere end game, no worries)

Eh?

send me a made up fic title and I'll tell what I'd write for that

Okay, I’m gonna set my own fic titles loose on you:

-Everything Professional

-A Sparrow’s Warning

-Start to Confess

Yayyy

Everything Professional: Dana Scully has worked diligently by Fox Mulder's side for 7 years, without giving in to his charms, until one night, in a lonely cold motel room, she finally gives in to their daydreams.

(This song is honestly the ultimate pining, daydreaming shipper song lol 😂)

A Sparrow's Warning: Don't be afraid, my child. Learn the lessons from your parents and you'll survive the darkness. Galactica has been searching for Earth for almost a full generation, and Laura, on her deathbed, recalls the lessons she learned that helped her survive to her daughter, who is poised to lead the next generation to their new home.

Start To Confess: Brenda Leigh Johnson is an expert in obtaining confessions. But what happens when she finds herself on the other side of the confession table faced off with none other than Sharon Raydor? Will she give in or crumble?

"sun's in your eyes, begging you to stay" for the ask game

Gilan/Selethen. They'll have grown closer during the trip to rescue Erak, developing a genuine respect for each other...and maybe something deeper. Selethen has just found a man he's convinced is right for him, but they live across the world from each other. At the end, he begs Gilan to stay in Arrida with him

Link to the ask game if you want to play!

Hiiiii Hippo 💕💕💕

Buddie fic title:

If only I knew you had electric fingerprints

-❤️🪐

Hiiii Saturn!!!! So lovely to see you here! You said Buddie. Please know you have my eternal gratitude for forgiving my slip into Diaz Family Feels. 💞🦛

After the debacle of broken salad bowls, 'I think you should go home' and 'This is your mess now', Eddie thought that he and Chris had worked through the biggest tangles of dating in the Diaz household. Introducing Marisol was almost a non-event. Eddie might even go so far as to call it a success.

He will now admit that line of thinking was more than a bit premature and naïve on his part.

Maybe it was his own growth and evolutions in the relationship department that led him to assume Christopher wouldn't face the same issues. And, well, technically he didn't. No, Eddie's son dealt him an entirely new, foreign set of tribulations. A one-eighty of Eddie's nesting instincts where Christopher is leading on five different girls. Five!

Wasn't it just last year they were discussing how much shirt sleeve was acceptable to show? What the hell happened?

And, OK, it's a new world with new methods of communication and apps and how teenagers interact with each other. Eddie likes to think he isn't completely stupid, because he tries to stay informed about current trends that he would honestly rather not know about. But no article or discussion with the school guidance counselor - or Frank - could have prepared him for tonight. No tips, tricks, signs to watch for could have fortified him for the devastating blow of 'We loved her and she left us anyway' and 'I can't remember her voice anymore'.

When Buck emerges from Chris's room, Eddie is still leaning against the wall, crushed under the weight of a thousand emotions and questions, attempting to prevent his heart from spilling past the walls of his chest. To keep it from slipping through the makeshift cage where his fingers press bruises into his skin, just below his collarbone.

Buck squeezes Eddie's shoulder before wordlessly leading them to the kitchen where he pours them both a glass of water and he waits. Waits for Eddie to speak, because it's what they do. They don't press. And maybe they should - more or earlier - but that's another thought for another day. For another version of Eddie that doesn't feel like the ground has been ripped out from underneath him.

"I don't- How am I supposed to-" Eddie blows out a harsh breath, frustrated that he can't form a complete question. That there is no entry in the non-existent Parenting Handbook for how to tackle this scenario.

"Eds," Buck says the nickname so carefully, so gently, like his tongue is shaping it from the most fragile glass. His hand tentatively slides across the tabletop until it's resting on top of Eddie's own. "You don't need to have all the answers or know exactly what to do."

"I know I don't. It's just-" He cuts himself off, huffing out an unamused chuckle. Because he doesn't know.

And, look, Eddie is fully aware that he doesn't have to be one hundred percent in control all the time, but it doesn't make him hate whatever this is any less. This combination of lost and thrown off course; of sad, bitter anger muddled together with desperation. His own eagerness to bargain for a way to make this situation more palatable. A pathetic yearning for the chance to go back. To never enlist and close himself off. To splurge on the digital camera with video recorder so he could capture a truly ludicrous amount of everyday, mundane moments.

How many hours of footage might they have collected? Of simple things like Shannon chopping vegetables or putting on makeup before a night out. Her and Eddie slow dancing in the backyard to music only they could hear. Or her laughing, bright and bold, as she smudged dirt and filth across Eddie's cheek after he showed her how to change the oil in her car. The way he pulled her in with his own grimy hands, pressing their mouths together so he could swallow the sound.

He blinks rapidly to keep tears from falling as he wonders how many instances would have featured her rolling her eyes - exactly the way Christopher does now - and shoving her palm in front of the lens.

But he'll never know because he's stuck with the choices he made. That they made. He can tell their son stories, bring him for graveside visits, and offer small souvenirs of the time Shannon had on earth, but that's all Eddie can do. He can't replicate what it was like to be in her presence. He can't convey how she was soft and gentle and all the things Eddie isn't, while also being sharp and spirited. How she smelled like peonies and summer rain.

Whatever he has to offer is two dimensional. Framed photographs, memories stored in his mind. Some of them also stored in Chris's though Eddie suspects in a completely different way. Hopefully in a way that doesn't taste as much like guilt and regret for things left unfinished and words left unsaid. Words like-

Dear Christopher.

He swallows hard around the phantom taste of sea spray from the Pacific Ocean, has the urge to claw at damp, sun-warmed sand that isn't there. And god only knows how his best friend has any idea what's scratching at Eddie's brain, but he does. And Eddie is so, so grateful when Buck rubs his thumb across Eddie's knuckles and asks if he should stay or would Eddie rather it just be him and Chris.

As much as Eddie would like Buck to be present as an extra layer of protection, he knows this is something he has to do himself. Even though, as he walks Buck to the front door, promising to call later, he gets the distinct feeling he won't actually be alone.

In the low lighting currently casting shadows around his bedroom, Eddie's fingers tremble as he reaches for the small safe in the back of his closet. A simple design meant to hold important, precious things. The metal dial is cool under his fingertips, easily manipulated as he rotates it right and left and right again until the door pulls open.

It's been years since he read the words written in Shannon's flowing script, but he knows them like he knows his own name. He traces over her loops and arches, wishing, like always, that he had more time. That he could put off performing this errand for a few more years, decades, lifetimes. Even if he knows it's only for selfish reasons. Because he owes this to Chris and to Shannon. It's on him to follow her instructions and deliver this remaining link between mother and son.

He holds the folded pieces of paper in his hands, feeling something familiar wrap around him that isn’t the usual despair. Something that's more like spun gold flowing between the note and his skin.

Eddie bites back a sob as it dives beneath the surface to wind its way around nerves and spill through blood vessels on its way to his heart. As a calm takes root, anchoring in all four chambers, unfurling and flourishing. As the room, that typically smells like lavender fabric softener and the fancy vanilla linen spray Pepa bought for him, is permeated by the overwhelming scent of Texas nights - filled with crackling humidity wrapped in silvery starlight - and velvety pink peonies.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing it in, inhaling deeply to his core like it might allow him to hold onto this moment forever. When at last his lungs protest, forcing him to exhale, his eyes flutter open again.

Eddie closes the door to the safe, hearing it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you," he whispers, letting his gaze drift to the letter once more before he walks down the hall to pass it to its rightful owner. His son. Their son. A living, breathing tether between past, present and future.

He knocks on the doorframe, briefly saddened by the sight of Shannon and Christopher’s picture turned face down on the desk. It only makes him more sure he’s doing the right thing.

“Hey, buddy…”

For additional Feels™️ may I recommend

Title meme: "forever is the sweetest con"

hm. yutagarcia actually, parallel timelines indies (we're gonna change the world together) and now (jealous of the new puppy)