#TWO FICLETS IN ONE NIGHT??? WHO AM I???

[chronicowboy]

Its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet for whole shifts. Some days, its just a bad day. One where all the work Eddie has done to get better can only keep him trudging forward step by heavy step. One where all his demons come back at once and try to drag him down. One where Eddie is too busy fighting old habits to join in on the jokes and banter. They've all gotten good at dealing with these days - Buck especially, but that's no surprise when he was there for The Worst Days.

So, its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet, but there's a simmering despair to Eddie's silence today that has Bobby's hackles rising. Its not his usual listless, fatigued quiet. Its a heavy, burdensome quiet. Bobby can't stand it, so he waits until the rest of the team trudge off to the bunks before he corners Eddie in the lounge with two cups of tea.

"You're not gonna let me escape are you?" Eddie sighs, collapsing back against the couch he'd tried to jump up from.

"I'm not holding you hostage," Bobby offers him one of the mugs with a smile, "I'm simply gently suggesting that you talk to someone. And I happen to be right here."

"Yeah." Eddie sighs again, eyes drifting down to the steaming surface of his tea. "What do you think I should talk to someone about?"

"Whatever it is that has you like this." Bobby gestures at him kindly. "You seem heavier."

He doesn't say it, but Eddie looks a lot like he did when Buck was in his coma. Bobby can't help but wonder, what with all the Natalia talk, if its because Eddie thinks he's losing him all over again, in a different way.

"Its nothing..." Eddie shakes his head, averts his eyes. "Just something that old lady from the living funeral said to me and Hen. Something my aunt said too."

"What'd they say?" Bobby prompts gently.

"My aunt said that I'm alone," Eddie mumbles. "Marie said that we all die alone. And, recently, I don't know." Another sigh, a hand scrubbed down his face. "Recently, it feels like time is running out and I can't help but think that when it does, its just a lonely death waiting for me at the finish line."

"Eddie, you aren't going to die alone." Bobby aches for him. Buck may be his son, but Bobby's always seen a piece of himself in Eddie. Its why he finds himself here so often, trying to coax Eddie's heart out of its cage. "You know that there are two people who would never, ever let that happen."

Eddie huffs a bitter laugh, eyes landing somewhere far away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Bobby is mature enough to admit he flounders a little here. All these talks he's had with Eddie, its always felt a bit like speaking to a brick wall. But now, now he thinks Eddie might have finally understood.

"Eddie," Bobby murmurs seriously, seriously enough to have Eddie meeting his eyes, "its never too late. Never."

"Feels like it might be this time, Cap," Eddie chokes out. He glances down at his tea. "I don't want to be alone."

"Love is a risk," Bobby blurts out desperately. He's never met two men who deserve a happy ending more than Buck and Eddie, and, whilst he can't take credit for how far they've come, he feels a blazing pride that their happy endings are to be found in each other. He can't let them miss out. "Love is a terrible, awful risk. Always. Always. Its never easy. It might be in the end. You might look back one day and think that it was all worth it to end up here. But you're in the today, the now, when the love is horrible and painful and the most difficult thing in the world." Eddie looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Bobby's heart breaks for him. "Every beat of your heart is like a punch to the stomach, and you think that maybe it would be easier if you'd never felt the love at all."

"No," Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. "No, there's no way I was never going to feel this.. I'd always end up here."

"That's mighty faithful for someone who doesn't believe in the universe," Bobby mumbles.

"I believe in him," Eddie shrugs helplessly.

"Eddie, you haven't lost him." Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. "He's just out of reach, but you can get to him. You've done it before. Both of you have. You always make it back to each other. That's your deal."

"I don't know how to reach him this time," Eddie confesses breathlessly.

"You have to take the leap, Eddie." Bobby sighs. "Its going to be terrifying, and it might not all fall into place at once. But one day, you'll look back and you'll be so damn glad you jumped."

Eddie bites into his lip as the first tear rolls down his cheek.

"What if he doesn't catch me?"

"Then, he'll pick you up off the floor," Bobby promises with all the conviction he has. Its the one thing he knows with any certainty in this world. "Eddie, whatever happens, you can't lose Buck. Not completely. And things might change. But think of how it could change for the better."

Eddie smiles to himself, a tiny, wobbly, private thing that Bobby's only caught glimpses of when Buck is around.

"So, I just jump?" he asks.

"You jump." Bobby nods. "You jump, and you hope, and you trust that he'll be right there with you."

"That he'll have my back?" Eddie grins ruefully.

"Yeah, trust that he'll have your back," Bobby smiles right back.

They'll be okay.

[starry-bi-sky]

realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards

*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then

[pettyprocrastination]

Leg Day

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female Powerlifter!Reader

Summary: You first catch Art Donaldson's eye in the university gym when all you want to do is hit back and biceps before class, the tennis player finds himself quite caught in your physique.

Warnings: foul language, smut, oral (f receiving), Art eats pussy and likes your thighs a whole lot. Reader is described as muscular. One line describes reader as not looking like Tashi in terms of physique.

Word Count: 1k

Author's note: Forcing myself to get back into writing at the same time im forcing myself to get back to the gym :') take this lil ficlet as a sign of my love for those who still follow me on here lmaoo.

Art adored your thighs. 

You didn’t look like Tashi. Not that there was anything wrong with that in his mind, of course. But the physiques differed greatly. The star tennis player of Stanford had a lean build from her years of training and perfecting her sport. Long legs that covered the court in smooth strides and toned arms that delivered a vicious backhand. 

The same body he and Patrick had nearly shared that one fateful night in a dingey hotel room when they should have been sleeping before their match in the morning. The same body he had found his gaze lingering on a touch too long to be appropriate for his best friend's girlfriend. 

And the same body you called him out for drooling over in the campus gym when all you wanted to do was a simple arm workout before your 10 am. 

“So are you actually going to use the bench or are you just gonna sit on it and stare at her like a fucking creep for another twenty minutes?” 

You were not Tashi Duncan. 

Strong arms crossed over one another as you waited for him to either say something or move, neither of which his brain could comprehend as you stood before him expectantly. A powerful, if not a tad intimidating physique supported by thick, muscular quads built from years of lifting heavy in sweat-filled weight rooms since you were a little girl that grew tired of soccer. 

Then cheer. 

Then volleyball. 

The gymnastics. 

Powerlifting was the one sport that finally stuck. 

“It makes me feel strong.” You had explained your love for the sport to him one night. With his head laying in your lap, the textbook he had carried with him to your dorm under the excuse of needing help studying now laid discarded on your floor as he listened to your story. “Seeing how much I can lift, how it feels to finally make a weight you’ve been struggling with for so long. It feels like you’re proving something, you know? Especially when you’re one of the only girls in the weight room.” 

Art could feel the testament to your craft under him. The thick corded muscle of your quads beneath his head as your fingers carded through his hair absentmindedly. Legs that were hugged by every pair of shorts you wore or hidden beneath the same pair of Stanford sweatpants whenever you felt a chill in the air. He found himself dreading the coming of winter as the two of you began to spend more time together. 

He wasn’t sure when the admiration began to shift into something deeper, slowly turning from one athlete showing respect for another’s commitment to their sport into a hormonal college freshman staring at your ass in spandex shorts each time he bumped into you at the campus gym. 

What he did know was that the night he finally found himself between your legs was one he would never forget. How quickly the pair of you shed your clothes in one anothers embrace, turning your room into nothing more than a collection of discarded study packets and kicked off Stanford merch telling the story that Art would no doubt replay in his mind for the entirety of winter break. 

The soft smile on your face as he crawled on top of you, pressing fervent kisses to every inch of your body that you would allow him access. How he memorized each microscopic reaction, that a kiss to your neck would make you giggle but turn into a shuddering gasp if he dug his teeth into the skin. How you softened in his arms when he ran his tongue along the scar lining your hip, one he would have to ask you about someday. 

But dear God, he could write poetry about your legs. 

The feeling of them wrapping around his head while he lapped at your cunt with tentative kitten licks that soon turned into devouring you with a desperation that could no doubt be heard through the walls. Your muscles twitching and trembling from his touch as you cried out his name with an arched back and scrambling hands, desperately trying to reach him until you found purchase in his soft curls, gripping just tight enough to verge on being painful. His own moans mixing with yours, poor bastard getting so lost in giving you pleasure he didn't even realize when he began to grind his hips into your mattress, desperately searching for a release while helping you reach your own. 

To hear your voice pitch into an airy whine as your thighs tightened around his head. Tighter and tighter as he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm, hips twitching against his mouth still working away against your dripping cunt in a way that verged on being gluttonous until you pulled him away with a sharp tug on his hair. 

In the aftermath, a silence settled over the two of you like a soft blanket. Spit-slicked lips laid feather-light kisses against the still twitching muscles of your thighs, pressing against the blooming bite marks that he knew would just barely peek out from the cuff of your shorts you wore during your morning training sessions. A minuscule stake of claim that he had no business branding you with given that he was too chickenshit to take you out on a real date. 

Had you opened your eyes, you’d see that his were already trained on you with a softness you weren’t yet ready to see. Admiring the rise and fall of your chest with a faint smile on his face and the desire to take you out properly. To scrounge up enough money from his bank account after the room & board payments bleed him dry to some small burger shop or maybe the local theater to see you outside of the walls of your dorm or the university gym, wearing something nice and laughing at his jokes before kissing him goodnight. To sit in the stands of his next match as his girlfriend and congratulate him on his win with an overly obnoxious kiss that he would swear was humiliating but made him preen under your praise like a peacock during mating season. To do all of the downright nauseatingly romantic bullshit every nineteen year old boy wanted to do with the girl he was too afraid to actually make a move on. 

But not yet. 

“Have you ever considered wrestling? You’ve got a killer leg lock.”

[artsyannierose]

Just You, That’s Enough - A Huskerdust Ficlet

Husk sat next to Angel on his bed slowly, golden eyes never leaving his face. Angel had merely only nodded slightly when Husk asked if he would like to talk about his feelings. They’d been “together” for a couple weeks now but Husk had noticed that Angel hadn’t been talking as much about his problems as he used to.

Which of course, was not necessarily a bad thing, but Husk sensed it wasn’t because he didn’t want to talk about it, but rather something else.

“Hey. You can talk when you’re ready. It don’t gotta be right now if you don’t want it to be,” Husk gently rested on hand on his shoulder as Angel took a deep breath. The spider all but flopped backward with a prolonged groan, all four limbs splaying every which way. He scrubbed his top two arms down his face and opened one eye to look at his boyfriend. Nothing but love and tenderness was present in his dilated pupils, and somehow that made Angel feel even more like trash. Though it didn’t stop his heart from betraying him with a flutter at those warm eyes.

“I just…Husk…ugh I ain’t no good with words,” Angel frowned, attempting to organize his thoughts into something coherent. “Just so we’re clear here, this ain’t nothing to do with you,” Angel quickly supplied. Husk was the furthest thing from the problem.

“So then…I haven’t done anythin’ to make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” exclaimed Angel hastily. “It’s all me Husk, I’m such a mess.”

“No baby, no…” Husk sat back against the headboard and motioned for Angel to join him. The exhausted spider easily obliged, curling up in his lap and smushing his face into Husk’s chest with a heavy inhale. Just relaxing in Husk’s arms and smelling the familiar scent of whiskey ever present around him. Husk began running his finger in Angel’s hair, a soft purr emanating from his chest, something that put a contented smile on Angel’s face. Angel cracked his eyes open and stared blankly at the wall for a good moment before speaking.

“It’s just, every guy who’s ever fucked me never wanted anything to do with me afterward, except Val I guess. Which I’m used to, that ain’t the issue. But then baby, you come along and literally drag my standards from rock bottom by being your perfect self and how am I supposed to even react to that?” A dry chuckle escaped Angel’s lips as he spoke. “I mean, you haven’t even tried ta touch me yet, and somehow that’s more romantic than any other dick I’ve ever slept with,” Angel lifted his gaze to meet Husk’s, who was looking at him softly, listening but not saying a word. One hand fisted the fur on Husk’s chest before Angel continued.

“And I wanna return the favor ya know? I wanna be a good boyfriend amore, I wanna be there for you, I wanna help you, I wanna make you feel good,” Angel snickered before adding, “Both in bed and not.”

Husk chuckled at the comment, ruffling the fluff on Angel’s head despite his weak protest. “Well I’m glad ya think I’m doing a good job Angel, you deser-“

“No, I really don’t,” Angel suddenly cut in, annoyance flashing over his features briefly.

The cat stared at him in bewilderment. “Baby, of course you do, don’t-“

“No, I don’t,” Angel repeated through clenched teeth, brows furrowed. Husk opened his mouth to protest but Angel held up a hand to stop him.

“Ya don’t get it Husk! Why should ya have to put up with my stupid bullshit when I can barely even uphold the role of a boyfriend? I come cryin’ ta ya every fuckin’ day and every fuckin’ time ya just fix me right up and pamper me like some fuckin’ princess,” Angel burst out, frustration written all over his face. He got to his knees in front of Husk and snatched his hands with all six of his. “I’m tryna hug ya and kiss ya and listen ta ya and just be a normal fuckin’ boyfriend but it ain’t enough! It ain’t neva’ gonna be enough to pay ya back for everythin’ ya deal with ‘cause of me. Not ta mention I’m used-up sloppy seconds, nothin’ much more than a good one night stand. The fuck do I know about bein’ a romantic partner? My whole gig is bein’ a toy for them fuckers to use ta jerk off or some shit. I fuck guys for a livin’ and then do it again fa’ a bit o’ cash just ta spend it on gettin’ myself high.” Tears began to leak out of Angel’s eyes as he tried to wipe them away, smudging his mascara across his face.

“I dunno how ta love you Husk okay? I-I-I can’t-“ a sob interrupted his rant, but he continued anyway. “I want ya to have someone who’s actually worth ya time, someone who ain’t a slut or a whore who’s always covered in other men’s jizz but there ain’t nothin’ I can do ‘bout it!”

Husk took a breath before trying to speak. “Angel you’re not-“

“And that’s anotha’ thing! You think so fuckin’ highly of me when I know that’s not true — I know it’s not! As long as I’m stuck under that bastard I can’t be anythin’ more than just Hell’s hottest dick-sucker.” And you deserve better Husk, but I’m also a selfish bitch you doesn’t want you ta leave me though you have every reason to…”

Husk closed his hand around two of Angel’s, willing him to meet his eyes. The eyes that met his were wet and red, slightly puffy, and had eight streaks down his pale-furred face. He lifted his other hand to Angel’s cheek, not missing how the spider leaned his face into his palm.

“Fuck, I didn’t want ya ta see me like this…” Angel mumbled, his face beginning to flush.

Husk’s thumbs wiped away the stains on his face as he caressed Angel’s cheek. “Do you have to be such a fuckin’ gorgeous crier? Geez Angel…” he muttered, so low Angel could barely hear. That’s all it took for Angel’s white face and chest to resemble a tomato as he shoved his face back into Husk’s chest and whined in embarrassment.

“This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about kitty…do you gotta be so damn sexy?” Angel grumbled, voice muffled by the fluff. The deep rumble of Husk’s laugh sent a shiver down his body from their point of contact.

Despite the light-hearted moment, Angel felt a tear involuntarily slide down his face, further wetting Husk’s fur. Husk delicately placed a finger underneath Angel’s chin and tilted his head up to him. Husk looked into his eyes, then leaned down and kissed Angel — right on the mouth — and let his lips linger atop the spider’s. He felt Angel sigh into his mouth and relax his lips on Husk’s. Husk barely pulled away, their mouths still touching before he all but whispered, a secret only intended for the two of them.

“What makes ya think I don’t love ya enough to love the ugly parts too?”

Angel only blinked in response, fuchsia eyes widening.

“Amore mio, you’re my everything, and I mean every part of you. You taught me what it’s like to love someone again even after I lost all hope of that. Ti amo Angel, sono innamorato di te, the good parts and the bad. I love you and how kind and loyal you really are, even after everything that’s happened. I love you and your habit of scrunching your eyebrows when you’re mad. I love you and your obsession with pigs. I love you when you are strong enough to endure the challenge thrown your way. I love the little heart patterns in your fur. I love your adorable smile. I love that you like to wear pink clothes. I love every part of you. We’re in this together.”

The tears only fell more from Angel’s face, but he wasn’t sobbing. Rather he looked utterly enamored and in love with the man cradling him at the moment. He laughed, and Husk wiped the streaming tears away but they only kept coming. Angel laughed harder and threw himself onto Husk, knocking the other demon backward and knocking the wind out of him too. Angel took the cat’s face in his hands and kissed him happily, smiling all the while. Husk melted into the kiss as Angel’s other arms wrapped around Husk, bringing them as close together as they could possibly be. Angel broke away, unable to stop laughing and his eyes absolutely twinkling with joy.

“Cos'ho fatto per essere così fortunato?” Angel smiled at his boyfriend, resting on top of him and tracing circles on his chest.

“Ti amo tanto,” Husk replied simply, wrapping his wings around Angel’s thin figure and squishing his cheeks. Angel collapsed on Husk’s chest and hugged him close.

“Anch’io,” was his muffled reply, as he snuggled further into Husk’s fur. Husk’s tail entwined itself in Angel’s long legs as the two held each other close, simply enjoying the feeling of each other.

And that’s all they really needed to be: Being together, that’s enough.

(Fic inspired by this ask!!)

[annwrites]

saving you from yourself .·. ˎˊ˗

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader (gn! in this post, but fem! in other installments i have/will post(ed))

— type: ficlet

— summary: you wish to stay at the cdc as the clock counts down, but shane, once again, refuses to lose you

— tags: shane protecting you with his body, shane saving your life

— tw: explosions, attempted suicide

— word count: 839

— a/n: find my other posts concerning shane, which take place before & after this, here

“I’m staying, Shane. This is what I want,” you say quietly—pleadingly—with tears shimmering in your eyes.

He’d heard those very same words from you only a few days prior at the quarry. And they hadn’t worked then, nor would they now. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d shoot you in the damn leg and carry you out, if that’s what it took.

He should've known—should've known—when he saw the look in your eyes—that gut-wrenching look of peace and understanding...perhaps even finality—that had come across your features when Jenner told everyone what would happen when the clock hit zero would lead to this.

He'd watched you as the man spoke—as he talked ridiculously about how it was "better"—hoping, praying, you wouldn't see it that way. That, between the quarry and the CDC, you'd found some small will to live. Some reason, even if it was a tentative one.

But you hadn't. Not for a moment. Not even for him.

You'd barely talked over dinner that first night. Had idly pushed your food around your plate before silently going off to bed without saying a word to anyone.

You were wasting away before his eyes and... He couldn't lose one more person he'd come to care for.

He wouldn't let you just rip yourself away from him.

He'd heard what Dale had said to Andrea: that you don't get to come into someone's life, make them care, and then just check out. Even if making him care, making him want to look out and provide safety and something more, perhaps—had never been your intentions.

It'd happened anyway.

He wanted to throw those words in your face, but knows they won't make a difference.

Maybe it's stupid of him to keep pulling someone back from the edge who's so eager to step off of it, who doesn't care about who they're leaving behind. But maybe he's stupid, then. Must be something about him: wanting women who only want to leave.

But this time it isn't about you leaving him. It's about you leaving yourself.

He can't let that happen. Not while there's still some chance to prevent it.

He glances to the clock which has damn-near run out, then back to you. He grabs your wrist painfully, his calloused hand forming an iron-tight grip. “We are not about to do this again. I am not about to watch you burn to death in this damn place.”

“Shane-”

He cuts you off. “No!” He shouts. “Enough is enough, and I have had it with this damn suicide mission you seem to be on. Now, you either leave this place willingly, or I will shoot you in the God-damn leg and throw you over my shoulder and force your ass out.”

He doesn’t bother giving you a chance to even try and talk him out of it before he slips his hand down to yours, twining his fingers painfully between your own as he pulls you along, through hall after hall, until you’ve made it to the surface.

Just as the two of you enter the front of the building where you first came in at, you see Rick running toward you. “Get down! Grenade!”

Shane immediately wraps his arms around you, squeezing you against his chest and throwing the two of you on the floor as the explosion hits, sending millions of tiny shards of glass in every direction.

When he stands, he yanks you up by your upper-arm, leading you through the now-open window.

You’ve all barely made it to your vehicles before you hear someone yell to, once again, get down.

Shane and you fall against the ground so hard it knocks the breath out of you for a moment. He, once again, covers the length of you with his broad frame, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you to him. Hot concrete bites against your backside, the front of you practically buried against him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as it finally happens—an absolutely deafening explosion, which makes you cringe further into him, your body shaking in fear and terror against him. And every time you think it’s nearly done, something else implodes, sending rubble and debris flying across the front lot, slamming into the ground, or against the cars.

You hang onto him for dear life, until, finally, it’s over.

Shane has to pull you up, your legs are now so weak—your ears ringing—and you feel utterly disoriented.

You stare up at him, at his wide eyes, creased forehead, and furrowed brows, but you can’t hear a thing he’s shouting at you as he holds your face firmly between his large hands. Finally, he shoves you into the passenger side of the Jeep, buckling you in with shaking hands, before coming around to the driver’s side and starting the vehicle.

You stare at the flames which now serve as the resting place for Jacqui and Jenner as everyone begins to drive away, Shane’s free hand—which is still shaking—holding onto your own.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚆𝙸𝙿𝚂

description: all the fics and ficlets I am currently working on will be posted at random - sorry! but if there are any certain ones you would like to see first let me know x

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𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜

kenzie weir // 20

wheel of love - ficlet and social media

description: y/n and her girlfriend have a very cute fairground date and say some big words on the ferris wheel

jessie fleming // 17

candy - ficlet and social media

description: in which jessie and her long term girlfriend are sweet like candy - cheerleader and soccer player, ain't it cute?

kyra cooney-cross // 32

cherry - ficlet and social media

description: y/n had been nicknamed to cherry since she could remember, she was arsenal through and through, she was red, and she was so goddamn sweet. how could kyra not fall head over heels

mary fowler // 08

sunsets and sea - ficlet and social media

description - while walking alone back home along the beach, mary meets a few strangers, who teach her how to play volleyball, she stays for ages, for the volleyball of course, definitely not for the pretty girl in the blue shorts

katrina gorry // 22

mama - ficlet

description: in which harper calls you mama for the first time after you and mini finally move in together and no longer hold a relationship together via facetimes

bethany england // 09

lucky - ficlet and social media

description - when the tottenham girls go for a night out and are let in a new bar early, bethany overhears a beautiful voice and quickly becomes obsessed

maz pacheco // 33

mark, set, go! - ficlet and social media

description - maz's 'friend' is the no.1 400m runner in the world, she needs to prove that at the world champs. if she does, maz will hard launch

kristie mewis // 15

down for the count - ficlet and social media

description: during kristie's first game at west ham against tottenham no less, her girlfriend is pushing as hard as she can against the wind. so hard she knocks herself out.

lauren james // 10

uh oh - ficlet

description: don't annoy lauren james, she'll make you pay one way or another. definitely don't annoy lauren james by knocking out her girlfriend, because then she'll score five goals against you and set up another two

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𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚜

katie mccabe // 15

swan II - ficlet and social media

description: katie and her dancer girlfriend y/n have taken the world by storm with their launch - but how did they meet?

katie mccabe // 15

cigarettes and stolen breaths II - ficlet

description: katie and y/n learn to navigate their relationship and try to figure out if there is love, or only lust between them

alessia russo // 23

champion II - ficlet and social media

description: during a relaxed competition, y/n pushes on, despite a worrying ache in her thigh, she learns to regret it after and alessia is happy to play nurse

sam kerr // 20

nonsense II - ficlet and social media

description: y/n and sam learn what it is to be in a relationship - no matter how much it scares her.

leah williamson // 06

hooked II - social media and ficlet

description: in which leah and her girlfriend walk the red carpet - stunning everyone at the grammys which in turn stun y/n

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𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 - 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗

mapi leon // 04

sisters (part of the 'hidden' universe - 3 individual parts 6 parts in total)

parts: one, two, three

description: being the lucy bronze's younger sister was great, having you best friend ona play at barcelona is great. one problem, both you and ona are hiding relationships, you with a team member and her with the captain's sister.

ona battle // 22

secrets (part of the 'hidden' universe - 3 individual parts 6 parts in total)

parts: one, two, three

description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.

lucy bronze // 15

my girl - 2 parts

parts: one, two

description: y/n is out of club play with an injury, potentially a big one, luckily england felt they could breathe again once they knew their captain hadn't suffered the three letters - but barcelona did not feel so lucky with an el classico around the corner

georgia stanway // 31

best friends - 3 parts

parts: one, two, three

description: in which leah williamson’s younger sister and georgia stanway are best friends ... right?

lauren james // 10

oh fuck (part of the 'blue' series - 4 parts)

parts: one, two, three, four

description: lauren is fine, she is completely fine. she is definitely not dating sam kerr's younger sister. and sam kerr definitely hasn't just walked into y/n's flat with her spare key. lauren is completely fine

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[star-going-supernova]

Here’s a SB prompt for ya!

Gregory realistically couldn’t have lasted the entire game without getting hurt. He got bruises from being slammed into things, his limbs aches for days cause he pushed himself too hard, and you can’t tell me any scrapes from Monty or Roxy didn’t scar.

Gregory would 100% use jokes and quips to deal with all the memories from that night whenever it gets brought up. Freddy who’s programming is insistent on lightening the mood and is joke based hates when he does it with a burning passion.

I’m still not done with the mini ficlets, lol. I went with immediate aftermath instead of further down the line.

Just a Scratch

The shift from night mode to day mode as, somewhere, a clock finally struck six was the best thing Gregory had seen all night. Lights began to turn on, STAFF bots disappeared by the dozen, and the stupid music cut out, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. 

Just visible from his hiding place, he watched Chica twitch a bit, then zombie walk away toward her room down the long hall of Rockstar Row. Mere minutes later, Monty and Roxy followed, none seemingly aware of their surroundings. They all vanished into their rooms without a peep. 

Still tense and on guard, Gregory unfolded himself from the tight corner behind the trash can he’d been tucked behind. There was no movement from the green rooms; from where he was crouched, he could see that Roxy’s was empty. Recharging in their back hallways, maybe? 

Guests would start arriving in a few hours, after all, and the show must go on.

Limping down the hall, he raised his watch and pressed the button to talk. “Freddy? You still with me?” 

“I am still here, superstar,” Freddy said, and he sounded so relieved. “I believe it is over. The barricade over the doors has risen. You are safe now.” 

Safe. It’d only been one night, but it felt like such a foreign concept. How could the pizzaplex ever feel safe again, no matter what time of day it was? 

Six hours. Not even counting that first hour before the barricade went down. Longest six hours of his life.

He was starting to feel a little woozy and unsteady on his feet by the time he and Freddy found each other. Freddy gasped at the sight of him, and the sound reflexively made him look around wildly, expecting an attack. But the quiet halls were empty but for the two of them. 

“Gregory,” Freddy said urgently. “You are far more injured than I thought! We must get you medical care immediately.” 

Gregory blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before looking down at himself and taking stock of his body for the first time in hours. He’d kinda had other, more important things on his mind, y’know?

The first thing he noticed were the bruises. He’d hit the deck more than once, either on purpose or from tripping, and his knees reflected that. They were dark and discolored. Lower, on his left leg, a trio of long gashes slashed diagonally down the front and curved around the back. They started to sting fiercely now that he’d noticed them. Monty had grabbed him there once, he remembered faintly. 

It was all a bit of a blur, to be honest. 

The sides of his upper arms and shoulders ached too, and he thought of how many times he’d taken a corner too fast, one animatronic or another hot on his tail, and the way he’d slammed into the walls before continuing on. On his back, the burn of another couple of cuts flared up; Chica had taken him by surprise at least twice. 

Shallow puncture wounds lined the top of his lower left arm from when he’d blocked Roxy’s teeth somewhere around 2 a.m. And both his right wrist and ankle throbbed with the pain of a sprain, probably from the one time the security guard had managed to grab him and yank him around and a fumbled jump down some stairs respectively. 

A full body ache buzzed through him, too—the result of running and lifting and pulling and pushing far too much, far beyond what his ten-year-old body was used to.

And his vision was admittedly a little blurry. A headache had started after the third time he’d had his head smacked into the floor by a pouncing Moon, so maybe he had a concussion on top of all the rest. 

The room was starting to spin, and Freddy was looking mightily concerned, which wasn’t an expression Gregory would have thought a robot capable of. Thoughts all tangled up around each other, he was suddenly desperate to reassure his protector that he was okay, honest, and they would look back on this night someday and laugh. 

He giggled now, tipped alarmingly to the side, and in a concussed attempt to alleviate Freddy’s worry and lighten the mood, Gregory enthusiastically declared, “Tis but a scratch!” 

Freddy made a noise of appalled disbelief, but if he said anything in response, Gregory didn’t hear it. He was too busy collapsing on the spot, thoroughly unconscious.

[writtenbygracewilliams]

Inspired by Kathani Sharma’s hatred of English tea and the fact Anthony is absolutely WHIPPED for this woman. Here is my ficlet. Thank you a million times over to my incredible beta @tofanasmuse ilysm.

Let me know what you think, send requests anytime, and free Palestine.

–Grace Williams xo

Word Count: 562 | Rating: General | Vibe: Fluff

Chai Love You

Kate Bridgerton still had little desire for Anthony to splash around his money on expensive gifts, despite her change in title. She appreciated living comfortably, sure, she would not deny that, but spending the family fortune on lavish clothes and hats was not something that brought her a great deal of joy.

Of course, to every rule there is an exception. They had barely stepped off the boat in Bombay, but Anthony could already see how Kate was settled in a way she never was in England. More than anything else, the flavours of this city and country were refueling Kate’s soul. Anthony tried to appreciate them, but his English palate recoiled from the amount of chili.

Anthony, like any respectable doting husband, insisted on shipping whatever spices Kate desired back to England. Unlike most gifts proffered by her husband, Kate welcomed this one most happily.

Now here Kate stands, one week past her honeymoon, as the only Bridgerton who knows how to turn on a stove, making herself chai long after everyone else has gone to bed.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asks softly, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen.

“Oh,” Kate turns, slightly startled, “I didn’t mean to wake you when I got up. I’m making a pot of chai,” she looks back to the stove, lightly stirring the mixture of milk and spices.

“I’m most impressed you know how to,” he replies amusedly, pressing himself off the wall.

“You’re impressed I know how to make a drink native to my culture?” she raises an eyebrow.

“No, of course not,” he rushes to clarify, “that you know how to use the,” he spares a look combining embarrassment and disdain, “stove.”

“You cannot be serious,” she snorts unbecomingly, falling into uncontrollable laughter that is much too loud given the hour of night.

“Did the cook not make chai this afternoon?” Anthony huffs, resting against the table in the centre of the room.

“She did…” Kate says slowly.

“What is it, Viscountess? Lady of the household?”

“Evidently my written instructions were not clear enough. The chai the cook made was, for lack of a better descriptor, inadequate.”

“Would you like to hire a second cook? One who specialises in Indian cuisine?”

“That’s most thoughtful of you to offer,” Kate smiles, placing a terracotta cover over the flame once her chai finishes brewing. “If a household this large has always had only one cook, then I shall not change that. I will just have to teach the cook of my culture’s food.”

“And you will do a most excellent job, of that I am certain,” Anthony grins proudly.

“I will do my best, to teach a cook how to cook,” she hums bemusedly.

“Is your chai adequate, my love?” he asks fondly, watching each delicate movement of the cup to her lips.

“It is perfect,” she sighs happily, unsure how she went without it for so long during the last London season. The two months since they had left India was long enough.

“I shall see to it that we always have the ingredients you require on hand,” Anthony promises, bringing her empty hand to his lips.

“If the Bridgerton fortune is to go to a collection of spices you cannot pronounce, I will ensure it does not go to waste. I shall see to it that you learn to love chai.”

[natalievoncatte]

This isn’t really a ficlet. It’s more of a screen test. If I like it and you like it, this might be my next project after my SCBB fic is done. I’ll start posting excerpts of that soon!

CW: Mentions of death and dying, and loss.

Of all the things to kill Lena Luthor, it was a heel shearing off her shoe. It wasn’t even a proper high heel, just a two inch rise on a pair of rather stately shoes from a designer of no particular note. Lena had since passed on the Louboutins, and had long adopted more conservative cuts for her suits and dresses. She’d given up her title as CEO decades ago and now fulfilled the role of director emeritus of L-Corp’s research and development division.

It had been a good life, except for one glaring exception. She’d cured over twenty types of common cancers, developed vaccines, and almost personally reversed global warming. She had only one regret as the heel sheared off her shoe and she went tumbling down the stairs to the floor of the L-Corp lobby.

Curiously, she was only dimly aware of the pain. It was something distant, like it was happening to someone else. She heard more than felt a crushing blow to her hip and when the marble rushed up to fill her vision, the world simply went explosively white and the only thing she felt was cold.

The world stayed white, which had perplexed her. Lena had never believed in any sort of life after death, even though she had a vague sense of the supernatural. Her mother was rumored to be a witch in the Irish village where she grew up, and she’d been told as much when she visited as an adult to seek out her roots. She expected, well, nothing. Not even an awareness that there was nothing, just an absence. As she grew older, on those nights when her mortality came crashing down around her in the fitful depths of the early morning when sleep rejected her, she would rationalize death as simply not having to get up tomorrow.

She did not expect to find herself standing in her old office, the one from a lifetime ago. Her stark minimalist desk dominated the room. Without knowing why, she ran the pads of her fingers along its cool length, a ghost of a sad smile dusting her lips.

The sofa was there, too. She could barely bring herself to look at it. After Kara’s betrayal, she had disposed of it thoroughly and rearranged the office. She’d eventually be driven out of the room entirely by grief and settled into another office on a lower floor and began spending more time at home, but the penthouse gave her no solace, either, and she ended up selling it and ultimately moved the research and development department back to Metropolis and worked there.

Lena’s breath caught at the sight of a familiar photograph on one of her bookcases. She took it in trembling hands, knowing then that this must be an illusion or a dream, because she’d smashed the frame and shredded this photograph in her own two fingers.

It was her and Kara, faces pressed together and grinning, their eyes so radiant with joy that it burned Lena’s heart to see and she immediately hurled it across the room, hurling it at a vase of rare plumerias that Kara had brought for her, leaving behind a full belly and a soaring heart.

A hand plucked it casually from the air and set it on an end table near the sofa. Lena stood her ground, though her legs began to tremble.

Standing in her office was a man she didn’t know, dressed smartly in a black suit that would have been in fashion all those years ago. He had a curiously calm air about him, reserved and almost peaceful.

“Who are you?” said Lena. “I’m dead, right? Are you God? The Devil?”

“I am not a god, nor am I one of the true immortals, though it is said that in strange æons, even death may die.”

“Then who are you?”

“My name is Mxyzptlk. Kara might, perhaps, have told you of me.”

“No.”

He snorted softly.

“Typical. I am a very long lived being, Lena Luthor. My kind measure our lives in eons, and as a wise human once said, a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. For the last ten thousand years, I have been a troublemaker and an imp. Now I shall be something else. I have decided I shall be grand and wise.”

“What does that have to do with me?” said Lena.

“Not you. Kara. I still owe her a debt, and I must balance myself before I truly transition into my next iteration. I am here to balance that debt.”

“How?”

“By giving you the opportunity to give love one last chance.”

“I was never in love with-“

“Do not lie to me.”

Lena took a half step back, grabbing the desk for balance. Mxyzptlk took a few steps closer.

“I am as far beyond you as you are beyond an ant, the very forces of chaos and entropy heed my command. All time is an open book to me. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you never married because you were hoping they Kara would stop giving you space and time to heal like you said you wanted, but never did.”

“How dare you? You don’t-“

“What Kara did to you, the way she manipulated her identities to confuse you, was cruel. Lying to you for so long was cruel.”

“Then why should I take you up on whatever this is?”

“A do-over. You’ll go back with your memories intact. You’ll have the chance to set right what once went wrong, and so will she. Or you can avoid her entirely and seek happiness elsewhere. You can leave National City behind or refuse her lunch invitations or whatever it is you think you wish you’d done. I’m not here to force you to love her. I’m giving you another chance, in truth, on her behalf. One she would pigheadedly refuse out of some misplaced sense of morals or decency.”

“Have you offered this to her?”

“No. Where she has gone now, I cannot follow. I can’t even show you where she is: her god has taken her home to his warm light. She rests in the lush fields of a prehistoric Krypton she never knew, spending eternity with her family. Rao has even used his strength and purpose to talk Mother Sol into allowing the Danvers into his domain.”

Lena’s voice cracked. “What?”

“Kara passed earlier today on Argo, from old age and cumulative injuries from her time as Supergirl, without a yellow star to protect her from them.”

“It sounds like she’s happy,” said Lena, turning away. “I… I still want her to be happy.”

“Rao is a bold god, a strong and protective one, but he is an honest lord. He does not give her the gift of forgetting, and perfect memory of love lost can be make a hell of heaven.”

“She loved me?”

“As much as you loved her. Enough to let you go.”

Lena’s hands began to shake. “It’s been so long. How-“

There was a knock at the door. Lena jumped, almost falling.

Mxyzptlk flashed to her side, crossing the space without moving.

“Choose now.”

“Who’s out there?”

“I don’t know. Whoever has the strongest claim over your soul, I suppose. You must choose now; to delay a true god is beyond even me.”

Lena swallowed, hard.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The world went mad. Everything was spinning, and trying to throw her stomach out of her body through her nose. The acrid smell of jet fuel and burning electronics stung her nose. The pilot beside her was unconscious.

And then…

The spinning slowed, and she was no longer falling. A gentle sense of lift raised her into the air, the city falling away from the cracked glass in front of her. Very gently, the helicopter came to rest on the roof, and she glimpsed a familiar figure in a cape and skirt, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. There was a gust of wind that rocked the chopper and ice crystals crawled over the glass, crackling in the National City sunshine.

Then, she was there. Kara tore the door loose in a single, fluid motion and climbed inside, pausing to check the pilot, peering through flesh and bone to asses his injuries.

Then she looked at Lena.

Kara’s breath caught, and her pupils blew wide. Kara stared at Lena like she was something knew, unknown and wondrous, the edges of her lips curling just so despite the self serious tone as she asked if Lena was okay.

It was her. Alive, here, now. Lena couldn’t help herself; she lifted a trembling hand to cup Kara’s soft cheek, without thinking. Her throat nearly closed and no words escaped her lips. She just felt that warm, soft skin and stared right back into Kara’s otherworldly eyes, savoring the tickle of Kara’s loose honey curls slipping over the back of her hand.

“Miss Luthor,” Kara said. “Your heart is racing. We’d better get you an ambulance.”

“You saved me,” Lena whispered.

“That’s what I do,” said Kara, winking at her.

Lena almost died again.

[mochalottie]

Masterlist

(Because even though no one asked for one...I wanted to do it to keep my brain entertained)

Avatar (Cameron Movies)

Oel Ngati Kameie (37k+ words) Series about Spider being adopted into the Sully. Post Way of Water.

To protect (2k words) Oneshot about Spider being injured on the SeaDragon.

Baby Mine (6.5k words) 5 times Spider called someone Mom or Dad and one time someone called him Son.

Eywa Provides (23k words) Multi chapter, complete - Feral Na'vi Spider living alone in the forest who is, surprise surprise, adopted by the Sullys.

Our Hearts Beat in the Womb of the World (115k words) Multi chapter, complete - Spider is adopted by Tonowari and Ronal. That's it. That's the fic.

For the Nights and Days of Life (387k words) Multi chapter, complete - All humans leave Pandora after the final battle leaving Spider behind. Oh, and he’s blessed by Eywa. That’s it. That’s the fic.

You Brought light, and new life (78k words) Multi chapter, complete - The comfort fic/sequel that everyone (surprisingly) wanted and I definitely needed.

What am I supposed to do, dance with it? (8k) Oneshot - Spider turns into a tiger. That's it. That's the fic.

Let the Wind Carry Us to the Clouds Multi chapter, ongoing - Aka the ikran racing!au I've snatched up and twisted into my own version, which features some Nocorro but centrics around our boy Spider!

Every Family has Someone Who Falls Multi chapter, ongoing - the time loop au where Spider is thoroughly put through the wringer.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

When You Can't Look on the Brightside, I'll Sit with You in the Dark (63k words) Multi chapter - a Zukka Alice in Wonderland AU where Sokka is Alice and Ozai is the Red King.

If Music is the Food of Love, Play On (4k words) Oneshot - Zuko essentially pining after Sokka in a Modern AU

Final Fantasy XV

Stronger than the Tides (13k words) Oneshot - Mermaid AU for Reverse Big Bang 2023

Blessed be the Boys Time Can't Capture (6k words) Oneshot - heads of families in Eos are vessels for the Greek Gods.

FFXV Song ficlets Series of Oneshots based on songs by Lauv. Includes multiple ships and AUs.

New Dawn (74k words) Multi chapter, complete - Ignis x Male!OC

Star Wars Prequels

Rock You Like a Hurricane Multi chapter, second part abandoned -The Obikin Band AU with Obi-Wan on drums, Anakin with vocals, Rex on Bass and Ahsoka on Guitar

The Mandalorian

Chakaar (22k words) Oneshot - Din Djarin x Male!OC Where a curious thief gets too involved with a grumpy Mandalorian and gains a family in return.

Inheritance Cycle

The World Ahead Multi chapter, incomplete - The Eragon/LOTR crossover that no one seemed to need, but two people very much wanted.

The Witcher

Destiny Changed Series of Oneshots - Jaskier is a Witcher and falls in love for Geralt the Nobleman. That's it, that's the series.

Voltron Legendary Defender

Space Family to the Rescue (1k words) Oneshot - Sick Keith is cared for by his Space Family.

Love is Endless (6k words) Oneshot - Keith pines for Lance in a Modern AU.

(Techni)Colour Vision (60k words) Multi chapter, complete - Klance through many film AUs.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

I loved to read "The Protector of Chopper Base". There is barely anyone out there writing for Fenn Rau. Ahdhsh you make me so happy

May I request #7 with Fenn Rau <3

A/N: Hi @f-e-y-x! OMG, I screamed with joy when I got this request! I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me; I love Fenn Rau, and I’m so excited to meet other people who also love his character! Thank you so much; you’ve made my entire week better. The prompt is "falling asleep in each other's arms."

Pairing: Fenn Rau x Reader (GN; has hair)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 507

Warnings and tags: fluff; post-coital cuddles; very suggestive dialogue

Summary: Privacy is scarce at Chopper Base, but you and Fenn Rau steal a quiet moment alone in the night.

Suggested Listening: 

This fic smells like: Sonoran Bloom by TokyoMilk (Petrichor, Saguaro Flower, Agave, Red Clay)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“I don’t recognize any of these stars,” you murmured. “The sky looks so different on my homeworld.”

“Mm.” You felt the vibration of Fenn’s voice in his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. He shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he pointed to the sky with his free hand. “There is Bari.” His hand shifted slightly. “And that one is Opoku. Avindia. Rama, and there is Altair.”

“How do you know them so well?” you asked.

“I’ve spent half my life studying star charts. I wouldn’t be much of a pilot if I couldn’t find my way in the galaxy.” 

His breath puffed tiny clouds that drifted across your vision as he spoke. Atollon was hot and arid, but the nights were cold. Feeling your body shiver, Fenn reached across to pull the bedroll more securely over your shoulders. The roof of a cargo container was not the softest or most comfortable bed imaginable, but it had a stunning view of the stars as the two of you lay tangled in each other’s arms. Despite the cloudless night sky, a heavy dew was beginning to settle on the parched red earth around Chopper base, and the dense mineral scent of petrichor hung in the air.

“I wonder if any of them have stories,” you mused.

“Hmm?” he asked quietly as he pressed his lips against your head, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply.

“On my planet, all the constellations have legends about them.”

“On Mandalore as well,” he said, his voice low and quiet as he spoke next to your ear. “Different constellations and different legends, but the same tradition.”

“Do you think that’s true of every planet?” you asked. “Do you suppose we all look to the stars and see stories to tell?”

“Perhaps,” he replied. “When we find ourselves in darkness, we look up to find the light.”

You smiled as you tucked your chilled face against his chest. “That’s much too philosophical for a man who was just inside me.”

He laughed quietly and rolled onto his side to pull you against him, wrapping you in his warmth. “I’m no philosopher. Just a simple soldier.”

“There is nothing simple about you, Fenn Rau,” you whispered, kissing his neck softly as your eyes grew heavy. “And I would listen to you philosophize all night.”

“Bold words for someone who is falling asleep as we speak.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you yawned. “Wide awake.”

“My mistake.” His large hand cupped the back of your head as he kissed your forehead with a tired, contented sigh. “Shall we go inside?”

“Hm-mmm,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep with you tonight, and the barracks beds are too small to fit us both. Let’s stay up here.”

“It’s cold, my love,” he whispered. “Are you certain?”

“I am. Will you tell me one of the stories about the Mandalorian stars?”

“A bedtime story?” he chuckled. “Very well. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out these lists of prompts for some ideas!Want more Fenn Rau? Here’s a fluffy first kiss ficlet.

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

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@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod

[krash-and-co]

OK KERMIT VS KIPPS FICLET

I am so sorry (not really) idk what happened to me (I have always been insane)

as usual vote kipps in @favcharacterpoll !!!

fic under cut. and yes, the title is from being green. mwah

it seems you blend in (with so many other ordinary things)

Quill’s boots scraped under his feet at his slow trek across rough cement. It was dark, it was cold, it was long past curfew and fear sent icy nails scraping the back of his neck. Specters longed for his life force, longed for the rush of a living soul.

But they weren’t the only thing to fear tonight.

He didn’t know why he agreed to come out. Anybody with half a mind would have just stayed home, but Kipps was prideful. Kipps was too prideful. So of course he’d agreed to meet up tonight, despite better judgement and care for his own life.

And it was too late now to go back.

He tightened his grip on his rapier and carried on walking.

The trip to the alley was short and definitely not sweet, more incriminating than anything-- bad shit happens in a back alley most times. You find bodies there. Kipps didn't want to be one of them, but it wasn't looking too likely he wouldn't see his nose to the floor at least once. At least he had the sense to bring his goggles so he wasn't dead before even arriving.

Scratch, tap. Scratch, tap.

His footsteps came to a stop.

He took in his surroundings on instinct.

Around him was garbage, which wasn't a huge surprise. In between him were two brick walls, seeming ever so close to squeezing in on him (perhaps his imagination?) but a surprising lack of ghosts at all. But he still didn't feel alone. Kipps pressed his goggles harder on his face, as if that would help at all.

Nothing.

Somehow that was even more unsettling.

"What have you done?" Kipps called into the night, although no one was nearby. "And how? You know, my team could use someone wh-- oof!"

Something had kicked his stomach. He keeled over.

"Show yourself!" he wheezed. Stumbling to his feet, Quill waved his rapier aimlessly.

As if he was back where he was last year.

As if he was back being blind to the threats of the world.

Damnit, he was better than that. Not much, but--

A flash of movement.

Kipps stabbed.

A clang of metal.

Kipps lunged.

A shove to his back.

Kipps swung around. He felt cloth in his fingers, fuzzy like felt, and squeezed so it couldn't escape. "Gotcha," he smirked, which lasted all of two seconds.

The cloth in his hands was gone before he could register.

"Who are you!?" Kipps yelled. "We're ending this now, damnit!"

You are, maybe, came a voice from above.

No, left. No, right. No, below? Kipps swung his rapier in every one of those directions at least twice.

"You are, maybe," he repeated mockingly under his breath. "Shut the fuck up." Which was kind of bold for someone five foot one with his only weapon pointed at a brick wall.

Are you afraid? the voice asked laughingly.

"Me? no," Kipps replied, afraid. "You, however--"

A clatter behind him. A grip on his shoulder. A manly scream.*

Hi ho, called a whisper from everywhere all at once. Kermit the frog here.

*(author's note: male toddlers are still male, it counts.)

[spoopyblues214]

IKEA

A ficlet about a dream I had where I went to ikea with the disaster twins. Second person, you decide if it's platonic or romantic I don't know lmao

Also to the ask I got, requests are open! Yours will be next and to anyone else who's interested just send an ask

Word count: 610

°•.•°

You walked through the entrance with the two turtles, only for Leo to take your hand and pull you along. Apparently, you hadn't been walking fast enough for the slider. In turn you grabbed onto Donnie's arm, making him fumble his phone before holding it with just his free hand and giving you the other one to hold. When Leo slowed, he swung your hands back and forth, which you gladly attributed to. Donnie rubbed circles and lines onto the back of your hand as the two of you walked, but he didn't look up from his phone.

Every now and then Leo would break away and come back to show a silly trinket or make a pun on the swedish name for an item, which had you smiling and rolling your eyes. Donnie didn't gain any interest until the displays turned into example rooms, which is where he began to split off and mumble to himself about the decor. You'd follow, stand next to him and rock on your heels unless you felt like picking up a smaller thing to inspect in the fake bedrooms. Once you got to the display kitchens, Donnie got this strange look in his eye, and you couldn't decipher it until he spoke.

"Shelldon's been struggling processing things lately, though I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that."

I had to try very hard to keep from smiling, before replying, "I'm not the one keeping him from recharging his energy at night, working on hundreds of unfinished projects."

He failed at hiding his smirk about the fact that you were in on the joke, but still continued, "oh, I'M the one keeping him from recharging? Maybe if you didn't get him sucked in to all those video games-"

"You're upset with me for rewarding good behavior? Don, when I'm not around he's miserable," the argument had been started, and the fake anger providing entertainment from passersby was rewarding.

It was especially fun for the two of you to walk the tightrope that the little drone could be an actual kid. Leonardo had come by with wooden birds on metal wire legs only to almost drop them at the shouting match the two of you had gotten into. Though, after his jaw un-dropped, he was losing his shit, trying not to laugh and fighting an uphill battle whenever someone passed by and made faces at the two of you arguing. He made damn sure to take pictures to laugh at later. The two of you came to the conclusion that Donnie would stop keeping Shelldon operating even if he was still working on something after twelve am. You would have to stop pampering him for every little thing, even if you were the only one who did so for the little drone.

You took both your turtles hands and led them to the cafeteria, where Donnie had just the meatballs, you had yours with gravy, and Leo had his with the lingonberry sauce. When Leo was done he kept stealing your mashed potatoes, so Donnie gave you his after you ran out. After lunch you all made for the exit, Leo still appearing with random items that caught his interest, though he stopped with the puns. You were easily distracted as Donnie went and paid for something.

Once out the door, the slider teleported all of you back to the layer, where you were scooped up by Raph for a movie night. Later that night you found a stuffed turtle on you bed that looked a little derpy, the tag labeled "BLÅVINGAD." How the twins had managed to sneak it past you was a mystery.

[optiwashere]

Hello, I love your work!! 🥹

If you’re still taking prompts: E3 for Shadowheart/Isobel. May or may not be romantically inclined (but if throuples are your thing please sprinkle some Aylin in there too)

Heya, that's so sweet of you to say! I took a bit of a break from writing these ficlets, but there's only two left in my inbox so I figured why not finish these out (I'm not taking any more at the moment!)

Thanks for asking for this one 💜

---

E3. A clash over differences in deities

The discovery of a shrine underneath the Last Light Inn wasn't quite a surprise to Isobel, she knew there was something about the place that had an almost tranquil enchantment threaded into it. When she was within the inn, she could weave her magic with a more precise touch than even she expected.

Learning of the shrine wasn't a surprise. No, the surprise was who she found there the evening after the fall of Moonrise.

The unexpected attendant did not sit in prayer. She didn't kneel, she didn't look in wonder at the meager offerings to the Lady of Silver. Shadowheart stood in front of the forgotten holy site, and she stared as if she were inspecting dirt underneath her fingernails.

There was another look in Shadowheart's eyes that Isobel couldn't quite place. She didn't know Shadowheart, but the spiteful invective she spewed towards Isobel and Selûne were lost in that hollow stare.

Isobel's footing slid as she tried to approach, sending a tumble of rocks out in a loud clatter that alerted Shadowheart to her presence.

"I knew that Selûnites were unsubtle," Shadowheart said just loud enough for Isobel to hear, "but I didn't expect them to be so noisy."

Not quite eager to approach yet, unsure where Shadowheart's mind lay after a single night had done so much to uproot what she thought she knew, Isobel remained on the edge of the wooden platform. "As subtle as a Sharran praying at a Selûnite shrine?"

"I am not praying."

"If you insist. Though, I must ask — why are you here of all places?"

"My... the Dark Lady demands silent reflection when faced with moments of uncertainty." Shadowheart sighed, never once taking her eyes from the mostly worn-away visage of Selûne. "I was always told the Moonwitch didn't care for disobedience, and that she let every disciple seek out their own penance when faith is uncertain."

"I doubt you Sharrans worded it so politely," said Isobel.

Shadowheart turned away at last to glare at her. The mask was flimsily constructed, and Isobel saw the frightened girl underneath immediately.

"Is it true?" asked Shadowheart, ignoring Isobel's remark.

"Is what true?"

"That Selûnites are given that freedom? They aren't punished, tortured for a lapse in faith?"

Isobel nodded. "The Lady of Silver only cares that we search for the path, not necessarily how we find it. There's a reason you've not lost your magic. It's fitting."

"It's a fitting way to find a knife in your back wielded by a Sharran that claims her goddess has betrayed her, isn't it?"

Isobel waited a moment. She let what Shadowheart said hang in the air, though not to consider it. They were empty, pointless words. The dying gasps of whatever rotten darkness Shadowheart believed to be her former Lady's trust, love, and affections. Someday, she might even realize just how little of her sharp tongue was in those words. Isobel wasn't certain it would be soon.

As they stood in silence, Shadowheart turned back to Selûne's statue.

A Sharran doesn't stare enraptured, curious, expectant like this, Isobel realized.

"I think I'd like to be left alone now. To be with my thoughts," Shadowheart said simply in a resolute, quite voice.

And so, Isobel left her to face a struggle that she needn't face alone. Isobel knew that to dig in her heels then would only draw out a bitter response from Shadowheart.

Later that night in sweat-coated sheets on a too-small bed, after Isobel and Aylin both needed a moment's respite, Isobel turned to her angel she thought she'd lost. They breathed and sighed and drank in one another and became lost in the sight of the other's contented face.

And still, Isobel could not help but think of the lost look in Shadowheart's eyes. She wanted to be lost in Aylin's, but the thought of that poor woman sitting alone in the dark kept nagging at her. A sharp ankle-biter for the Dark Lady turned to wonder and worry without another soul to help her.

"You are thinking of the once-Sharran?" Aylin whispered, propping herself up on her elbow.

"I—"

"It is all right, I sense her sorrows. She is lost. She requires a light in the darkness, and I dare say she refuses to allow Selûne into her heart just yet." Aylin stood and began dressing herself. "It is our duty to guide her."

And when Isobel saw the determined look etched across Aylin's face, she knew that there would be no denying her. Once set on a path of action, none could stand in the way of Dame Aylin and her quarry.

[annwrites]

we'll make one together.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (part of a series)

— summary: billy comes to you with good news, but you don't react accordingly & everything falls apart...or does it?

— tw: suicidal ideation, self-harm, attempted suicide

— word count: 2,970

— a/n: this chapter got a lot darker than i'd originally intended, woops.

— tag list: @stoneyweezin @ganjas-shit

When Billy comes to you that evening, you're waiting for him in the room where you'd made love just the night before. You sit up on the mattress and smile when you see the elated look upon his face.

"Good news, then?" You ask with a small laugh.

He reaches down, taking your hand in his and pulling you to your feet. "A few weeks ago, I started applying for jobs in California—it's where I grew up—and I've always wanted to return. I really...I didn't think I'd ever hear anything back, but an auto assembly line out there wrote that they have a position waiting for me. I called this morning and told them I'd take it. They're willing to pay a portion of my traveling expenses, and apparently there's apartments nearby. After work, I went to a realtor in town and put my house up for sale. I leave in three days."

Your heart cleaves in two.

He steps closer, taking your face in his hands. "Come with me. There's nothing keeping you here. You're eighteen now and free to go. You can leave all of this behind. All of them. I'll take care of you. Let...let me take you away from this place."

He crushes his lips to yours, his body practically vibrating from joy, while you fill with self-loathing, knowing that what you're about to do...you have no other choice.

He has a chance at a new life. One you're sure he's always dreamed of. And you pray to God—if he even exists—that he finds everything he's looking for and so much more.

You just won't be part of it. You can't be.

Because if you are, you will destroy it. That's what you do to every single fucking thing you touch: destroy. Fill it with sickness and disease. Because that's what—who—you are. A disgusting, revolting, broken creature.

This house is where you belong. This town. With those men. They are all you'll ever be worthy of.

You suddenly regret the two of you ever meeting, for his own sake.

At least when he's gone...you'll have something to hold onto. Because when you return home—you know you'll be a walking corpse. A young girl that has died inside—her only source of life and goodness gone. Forever.

You have to save him from you.

You have to.

You must.

You pull back, putting your mask on. You know how to do this. How to play this part. You've been doing it your entire life. And will now never get another chance to stop. You have to become her—this twisted, broken girl. You must make him believe it. Must convince him.

You lean back against the wall, crossing your arms, smirking. "I really fooled you, didn't I?"

His brows furrow. "What?"

You snort. "Do you think men are the only ones capable of creating notches in their belts?" You cock your head to the side. "I mean, we both know I never wanted you here in the first place, but since you refused to leave me the fuck alone just like the rest of them, I figured this time I'd do something for myself. I mean, you're gorgeous, but that's about it. Not even as good of a lay as I'd been hoping for."

Your lip twitches. "Most of you city boys are a soft fuck. I had to go to Scott this afternoon to give me what I'd really been hoping for. Thank God he knew how to give it to me."

He shakes his head. He knows what you're doing, and he's not going to just let go that easily.

"How stupid do you think I am?"

You shrug. "What was it you once called yourself? A washed-up mechanic, right? So...because you were sweet on me, you thought...what? We'd run away together? Maybe get married, settle down in suburban hell, and I'd push out a couple of kids that're just as worthless as you are?"

He bites the inside of his cheek.

You want to drown yourself in the pond. Maybe this time you will.

This heartbreak will be temporary for him. He'll move on, quickly forgetting about you. And the thought makes you happy. He'll find someone new and so much better, so much more worthy of him. He'll have a really good life. You need for him to find that.

You take a step toward him. "I told you before who it is that I love: Scott. What I told you last night..." You shrug again. "Lying comes easily to me when it gets me what I want. And it did. Well, sort of. Like I said, it really wasn't all that memorable."

He shakes his head, glancing away, his eyes stinging with tears.

And you silently plead for him to just go. Please. Please. Don't make me go on. Let this be enough. Let go of me. I'm not worth it, baby.

"You had enough yet?" You ask with a giggle that makes you feel ill.

He looks back to you. "T-this isn't you. Please, stop. Just, angel-"

He reaches for you and you step away.

No, don't touch me. Not that. Or I might give you everything you're silently begging me for with those beautiful wide eyes.

You know you have to strike a final blow. You've never hated yourself more.

"I get it now. Why your mother left. Can't say that I blame her. She saw early-on what kind of kid she was going to get stuck with. So, she did the best thing for herself by leaving you behind. As for your dad..." You pause. "I wonder what drove him to it. What you did to deserve it."

He reels back like you've hit him.

Die. You want to fucking die.

You are the worst person to have ever lived. Evil incarnate. Worthless, cruel, stupid girl.

You deserved what Scott and Joe did to you. What they will continue to once Billy has gone, and you are all that remains.

You hope they kill you.

Because without Billy...you have no reason left to live anyway.

He chokes back a sob and you briefly consider throwing yourself out the window.

Please, baby, just go.

He shakes his head, wiping his cheeks. "I-" He lets out a shuddering breath. "I wanted to give you a new life. I wanted...I wanted to be a safe place for you. Like you told me I was."

"Well, I lied."

He wipes his cheeks again, then looks at you and it takes every single fucking ounce of strength that you have left not to break as you stare back at him. You want so badly to undo it. To make his hurt go away. But you can't. You're doing this for him. It's the only way you'll get him to let go.

"This is what you want? To stay here? All alone? With them?" His tone is that of disbelief.

You settle your hand over your stomach. "There's only one man I want any sort of future with. And now we'll have one."

A lie. You'd taken four tests just to make sure. And you weren't. But if you could make him think otherwise...

His face crumples.

You don't know if you can survive this. If you want to bother trying. What reason was there to do so now?

All is silent for a moment, your heart pounding in your ears the only thing you hear, until he breaks the silence.

"I'll go."

You could nearly cry from relief. You'd done it. You'd saved him.

"Don't let the door hit ya on the way out," you throw toward him as he turns.

His shoulders slump and you watch him leave, listen as his boots slowly thump against the stairs. And when the front door slams closed, you fall to the floor and shatter.

For the next two days, you don't go home. You barely eat. You wander around the house aimlessly—your heart jumping at every small noise you hear, hoping it's him.

You know he's not coming back.

You'll spend the rest of your life standing on the outskirts of town waiting for him to return.

You spend all of your time crying and hurting yourself. You throw yourself against walls until you're covered in bruises. You spend the better part of the first night sitting in the room where the mattress lays, slowly banging your head against the wall until you have a pounding headache. You break furniture. You scream. You cry. You vomit. You smack yourself and pull out your hair and cover yourself in scratches, dragging your nails down your arms and legs. Because you know: you deserve this.

You go to the pond and try to drown yourself. After two gulps of water, you'd emerged, puking everywhere, gasping for breath. Coward. You couldn't even do that much. What right did you have to be alive?

You'd try again in time.

You lie in the tall grass, hoping a snake finds you and kills you, since you seem unable to do the job yourself.

You make a noose out of one of the sheets from the spare room and leave it hanging from the ceiling and you sit there for half-a-day considering, imagining your body swinging from the rafters.

The one thing you were certain of was that if you died—you wanted it to be here.

On the third day, you wake early—before dawn—and you know it's useless, but you return home and pack a bag. You barely pay attention to what you're even shoving inside of it as your mind races.

You consider going to his house, falling on your knees and begging for forgiveness, but you won't do that to him. You won't force him into such a decision with guilt.

You'll leave the choice up to him.

You quickly write a letter, addressed to Joe's wife with no return address and shove it in the mailbox as you hop on your bike for the first time and you race back to the house, leaving the thing on the side of the road as you run through the trees—branches tearing your face to ribbons, but you don't care.

It's morning now, nearly ten. Would he already be on the road, headed west?

You shake the thought from your head as you enter the house, calling his name, racing up the steps...to find every room empty.

You slide your bag off of your shoulders and collapse.

You curl into a trembling, shaking mess upon the mattress, crying so hard you can't breathe.

What had you done? What had you done?

You can't...you can't live like this. You can't go back. Can't live without him. Can't live.

You can't.

"Please come back," you sob, imaging his car speeding away from town, already crossing into another state.

"Please, I'll do anything. I'm s-sorry!" You picture yourself lying beneath them as they tear you apart with their teeth and tongue and cocks and eyes.

You press your hands over your eyes. "I'll do anything. Please come back. Please."

Oh God, what was happening to you? You've never felt like this before. So...utterly terrified. Lost. You were lost.

"Please come back to me," you whimper, ready to stand. To use the noose. To-

"I did, angel."

You sit up so suddenly your head spins, and when Billy takes in the sight of you...covered in bruises and scratch marks...

Had they done that to you? Or had...had you?

You stand, swaying, before running to him, throwing yourself at him, wrapping your limbs around him as your body shudders and shakes from fear and sobs.

He picks you up, wrapping your legs around him as he sinks to the floor, one arm wrapped firmly around your back, the other cupping the back of your head as he rocks you, shooshing you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

He shooshes you, trying to calm you.

"Please. Please don't go. I'll do anything."

You pull back, reaching down, your hands shaking so hard as you begin tugging against his belt buckle.

He shakes his head, taking your hand in his. "Y/N, look at me-"

You crush your lips to his and then you pull back again, staring at him with wild eyes. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry-"

He pulls you back to him, continuing to rock you. "I'm here. You're safe. I'm here. You're in my arms. It's okay."

You bury your face in his neck. "The things I said—oh God—what did I do?" You stare at him, tears slipping down your cheeks. You begin to shake your head. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it-"

He cups your face in both of his hands. "I know. Angel, I know. I should've never fucking walked out that door. I can't-" Tears sting his eyes. "I'm so sorry that I left you here all alone. How the fuck could I have done that? Did...angel, did you do this to yourself?"

You nod, smiling. Maybe it'll make him happy, to see that you punished yourself from the awful things you'd made him listen to. "Y-yes, I did. I deserved it. I deserved it."

His chin wobbles and he swallows down the lump in his throat at the sight of you so far gone.

He holds you again. "Angel, you never deserved any of this."

Your voice raises in a panic. "The things I said-"

He shooshes you, smoothing the hair at the back of your head. "I know why. Either you were scared of it—leaving. Or just...commitment. Maybe-"

"I had to save you. From me. I-I had to."

His heart breaks further. You'd done it for him. It had nothing to do with you. Not for a moment.

How the fuck could he have left you alone in this house for three days? How?

And he'd nearly been on his way out before he'd slammed on the breaks, the car idling as he considered. He'd told himself to just leave—get out—and let you stay here where you belonged.

And then every moment together raced through his mind. You falling for him, trusting him, opening up, nearly...killing yourself that night not even two weeks ago you had been in so much pain. You needed someone, and he'd found you. And then to just...throw you away like that...?

Just the thought of them holding you down again and forcing you...

He'd thrown it in reverse then, muttering 'fuck this' before speeding back to you. Hoping—praying to God—he'd find you here.

But finding you like this...he should've come sooner.

He just holds you, coddling you, rocking you, shooshing you. Telling you over and over that you're safe, he loves you, he forgives you.

Finally, you begin to quiet, your body no longer shaking in terror.

You'd thought he had abandoned you. He'd never forgive himself.

You'd torn yourself apart literally over what you'd done.

Slowly, he pulls back, looking down at you, your eyes drooping from exhaustion.

"I'm not really pregnant. I'm sor-"

He gently presses his lips to your own; mildly relieved at the news. "Angel, everything is okay. I'm here. And I'm bringing you with me. I'm going to take care of you now."

You lay your head on his shoulder.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asks softly.

"A few days."

He nods. "When we get to the car, you can lie down in the backseat and rest. For however long you want."

He runs his hands along your back. "When...when we get to California, there's only one thing I need you to promise me."

You slowly look up at him. "I'll do anything you say."

He kisses your forehead gently. "Angel, I'll find you a doctor, but you have to promise me you'll go talk to them. You...you need professional help that I can't give-"

You nod. "I...I know."

He lets out a small breath of relief.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Everything is okay now."

He goes to stand, sliding your backpack onto his shoulders before offering you his hand, which you take.

He pulls you toward the doorway and then you freeze.

"Wait. I can't leave them."

You quickly step back over to your dolls, placing them inside one another, then turning back to him.

He gives you a soft smile. "Anything else you'd like to bring?"

You walk over, slipping your hand into his. "No."

He considers, wanting to double-check.

And then he steps toward the room you'd hung the sheet in, but you don't manage to pull him away in time and he sees.

He feels sick at the sight of it. You'd decided not living was preferable to the idea of living without him.

He takes you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. "I'm so fucking sorry."

He begins to sob.

You sit in the passenger seat, assuring Billy you'll sleep soon, you just want to watch as the town enters the rearview, permanently left behind you.

You turn to him. "Are...are you sure about bringing me?"

He turns to you, cradling your face in his hand. "I've never been more sure of anything. I won't leave you behind again. I'll never forgive myself for trying to in the first place."

You kiss him gently.

You then turn back toward the windshield. The house is now out-of-sight, but you know it lies beyond the trees. "I think I might miss it."

"Maybe we'll come back one day to see it again."

You grow quiet. For a long while.

"No, I don't think I'd want that."

He nods, putting the car into gear. "Then we won't. We'll go find a new home instead. We'll make one together."

[serenescribe]

Poll: Help me pick my next TWST longfic! [FINISHED]

Hello everyone!

As most of you may know, I am quite the avid longfic writer. However, university's been slowing me down a lot, so I've been unable to write as quickly as before. So why not poll some of my fic ideas and let you all decide?

I'll include some brief, rambling summaries of the options below the cut! The poll will run for seven days, and the winner will be the longfic I focus on next! (That isn't to say I won't write other things since inspiration is fickle and some of these are semi-completed, but for the most case, my priority will be whatever wins!)

[Summaries under the cut!]

i. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Locked in a Freezer Epel-focused! I originally started working on this in April but shelved it because I was more focused on writing Diasomnia. That and I also did not look forward to writing Rook... Still, the benefit of this option is that It's already 2/3 finished, with the first two chapters done, so it would be done a lot faster. I'd feel pretty keen on finishing it sooner if there was interest expressed.

ii. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Barely Conscious Silver-focused! A bad end AU of the Fairy Gala remix event... and that's about all I can say about it. Compared to the other options, it wouldn't be as long, so I could see it being done faster. It would not have a definitive conclusion, being a bad end of an event, but if you like Silver suffering, this is the one for you!

iii. Bad Things Happen Bingo: On the Run Sebek-focused, along with the first years! I originally wanted to write this for Halloween this year, but quickly shelved that idea due to realising how much Uni sapped my energy. This is one of the two options here that would be rated Mature, along with warnings of Major Character Death. It was meant to be a Halloween fic, after all.

iv. Bad Things Happen Bingo: This Is For Your Own Good Silver and Lilia-focused. What can I say about this AU without revealing too much...? This is the other option that would be rated Mature. It gets truly fucked up and dark in the latter half, and bad things truly does happen. It would also be one of the longest fics in the BTHB series, as I'm envisioning two very long chapters. All the same, this is arguably the idea I'm most excited to write. So if that means anything to you (trust in my tastes, perhaps?) you might want to consider voting for this!

v. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Hope Is Scary Silver-focused, though Lilia comes in later. This is arguably the least developed of all the ideas here, however it was a really good idea that Olive thought up and gave me permission to write. A lot of Silver suffering in this one! And being alone. The prompt is literally about losing all hope and not wanting to hope again in case it gets dashed.

vi. Reverse Containment Breach AU: Starchild Lilia and Silver-focused. This is based on Olive's Reverse Containment Breach AU, of which I'd previously written a ficlet for here with Malleus and Sebek. Think something SCP-esque with an organisation studying strange subjects. Head Researcher Lilia Vanrouge stumbles upon a boy who fell from space one night, and that's when everything slowly goes off the rails. I actually finished about 1/3 of this? So it's partially started.

vii. PMMM AU: Lilia Longfic Lilia and Silver-focused. What it says on the tin. Mica and I's PMMM AU, which isn't 1:1 with canon but Lilia takes the role of Homura, and Silver as Madoka. Time loops and general suffering and angst. If you know how Madoka plays out, you know how this one's going to go.