#also don't look foster's up on ao3. JUST DON'T.

[sidetable-drawer]

hi Michelle, i'm sorry but how on earth is pro//shipping common in the fosters fandom of all things?? it's a show abt the creatures coming into existence from imagination..i am so confused.

People will ship either imaginary friends with humans (imaginary friends can't age; humans can. Their ages tend to vary but some like Bloo are more "kids". There's a....certain video out there that has Bloo and Frankie and I'm leaving it at that), Mac with Bloo (they're pretty much related), and again, Mac and Frankie because some idiot fans thought Mac's "precocious crush" on Frankie meant "Frankie likes him back" (as well as them using Mac as self-projection for their own crushes on Frankie). I know in general Craig McCracken doesn't really do the shippy stuff (the only canon couple in the show are Fluffer Nutter and Jackie Khones, who are minor characters), so it seems like some members of the fandom will do ANYTHING to have some shipping content (that or, "this character is a boy and this one is a girl so it's a ship"...we're still doing that in 2023?). Another big one (especially when the show was airing) was Wilt x Frankie. Which again, squicky because not only is it human/imaginary friend (so the aging thing comes into question), but Wilt knew Frankie since she was really little so the implications are pretty bad with that ship.

Speaking of that with Craig's shows, PPG pretty much gets hit with the same thing, only worse because there's more PPG fan content out there compared to Foster's.

Basically, some fans are just weird.

[irondadfics]

So, I want some fics where Peter hides his identity from Tony and the Avengers, especially with identity shenanigans. I need something to read all night, after all. This includes fics where he's an intern. Longer fics would be appreciated! Only on ao3 please, my Kindle Paperwhite can't go on FF.net due to Cloudflare.

Fics that I already know about (so don't recommend them):

Hidden Truths by lostintheclouds321

Coffee, Interns, and Other Mysteries by sabertoothhousecat

Intern Spider by Emily_F6

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Milstrim

Throwing Caution to the Wind by violetsunflowers (violet_sunflowers)

Just a friendly neighborhood spider by sarcasmismyweapon

Cluless is My Middle Name by pandaluna

Chasing a Spider by pandaluna

Adopting Identities by Thisisentertaining

Finding Home by Pink_Sunsets

Evasion by gammathetaalpha

Martian Child by Phiod_Muse

here’s some recommendations

Missing Links by spagbol99

The Rogues are back; Tony Stark couldn't even be mad about it - it was his idea after all. He's an Avenger and that means protecting the Earth at any cost - even if he has to deal with a certain star-spangled man and his sullen sidekick. After all, he's been through worse in his life; the loss of his wife and the disappearance of his son 12 years ago. Compared to that, this would be a walk in the park. Bucky Barnes is back on US soil as a free man. But freedom is more than just physical. On top of that, Steve is desperate for him to be the man he was before. The only problem is; that man is long dead. Peter Parker has been through the mill but he knows he just had to adapt, roll with the (many) punches and keep going. Spider-man is his safe place now, the one time he could truly feel like himself. Like he is making a difference. He'd make sure no one would suffer like he has, even if he has to track down the perpetrator himself.

Thunder and Attrition by magniloquentChanteuse

Peter Parker had been Spider-Man for five months and things were looking up. The beautiful and intelligent Gwen Stacy was showing interest in him. He found budding friendships with the Avengers. His reputation was growing in New York City. Spider-Man seemed to be at the top of his game and Peter Parker was finally regaining his footing after the death of his Uncle Ben. But as Gwen lamented his lack of attentiveness, the Avengers sniffed around Spider-Man's secret identity, and a mysterious man with a strange power and a terrifying plot emerged, Peter realized that he still had a lot to learn about leading this life he'd chosen. And with tragedy poised over his head, ready to fall, Peter was going to need to learn fast.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle

Homecoming AU. Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway. So he leaves. Simple. Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on. And that’s when things get complicated.

[skazoo]

fire to the rain.

↳ min yoongi x f!reader x jung hoseok

a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.

length. 2.3k

genre. angst, thriller!au?? i REALLY don't know how to label this, agust d and jack do their own thing ig

warnings/tags. language, mention of mental illnesses, murder, arson, implied organized crime, dark themes overall. in this fic's seoul mental hospitals still exist, like arkham asylum/ahs: asylum stile idk it doesn't really serve anything but i imagined it this way.

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. i finally get to publish this fic after soso long can i get an hallelujah?!?! also jack and agust d need to be in a movie together i really need it.

last but not least infinite thanks to the best beta reader i could ask for <3 @l00pyluluo7 MY angel 🫶🏼

hope you like it!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.

you think back to yesterday and you have a hard time recognizing which part of the so-called joke is funny but it was one of the rare times yoongi laughed when hoseok said it so you guess it’s just a you problem.

rain falls relentlessly on seoul’s concrete streets, the raindrops biting into your skin like needles. you walk slowly, hands in your pockets and the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, almost covering your vision. you let your eyes scan the dark alley you’re about to enter, but you see nothing other than a few plastic bags from the restaurant in the front of the building and a stray cat looking for something to eat.

according to the message you received in the dead of night from a —ironically— familiar unknown number, the meet-up is supposed to happen early in the morning but as of right now the sky is dark, the rising sun completely hidden behind a thick layer of ominous clouds. a milky mist bathes the city that has yet to wake up in a gray hue and morning seems nowhere to be seen. 

you grimace. 

if anyone were to ask you, seoul doesn’t deserve anything. 

the freezing cold in winter, the scorching hot summer, the rancid smell, its unforgiving nature, the city you were born in has never done anything for you. not when you grew up in foster care, not when you were denied the same opportunities as your peers because of your ‘slightly disturbing’ nature, not when you joined the police. if anyone were to ask you, in all the years you’ve been alive, seoul has never shown kindness and you’ve come to the point you’d rather see it burn than be a silent victim of its cruel ways. 

no one ever asked you, though. not until you met him first and the other second.

they knew what you were talking about when you told them what went on inside of you and be it in loneliness or personal gain, they enabled you in the only way they knew how. with gasoline. setting fire to the rain.

the phone in your hand says it’s 5:26am. you still have time.

you fish for the unopened pack of cigarettes in your pockets. 

it’s weird how the first thing you think about is sergeant kim and his passionate hate for your addiction. sergeant kim and the conversation you had almost four hours ago.

his voice was a quiet thing when he found you outside of the police station when it still wasn’t raining.  

“detective L/N.”

“sergeant kim.”

“the fires are getting more frequent.”

you let the smoke wash soothingly over your lungs. kept it there before lazily pushing it out. “they are.”

he stood in silence, leaning on the other side of the door, looking at you with a grave frown.

“it’s dangerous, detective.”

you buried yourself further into your jacket and turned your head in his direction, a minimal movement that spurred him to go on.

“and it’s arson,” voice low as he looked around the outside of the station. it was late. uncharacteristically so for him but your case must have been keeping him up at night more than you thought it would. maybe you underestimated his love for the job or his fear for his failures, you don’t know. you don’t particularly care either.

“i thought we’d already agreed on it when we took the case, sergeant. it is malicious. it is arson.”

he frowned and shook his head.

you’ve noticed he often gets these fits of frustration in which he struggles to make you understand exactly how certain things make him feel, as if he needs to explain the reason he’s not comfortable. you think he does it unconsciously but you wonder if sometimes he catches a glimpse of what goes on in your head and his desperation it’s just him trying with all his might to pull you away from something you both know is not pretty. something he knows would put a premature end to whatever relationship he created between the two of you. 

“it’s murder,” just above a whisper. “Y/N, we’re looking for a single man, a madman, a psychopath that uses the same brand of matches every time he burns something down but i’m starting to think it might be a group? do you think it could be possible? i just can’t think about the actions of a single person causing so much pain i–”

“what? so it would take this case from having a chilling lack of ethics to just being ethically questionable? would it make you sleep better at night?”

he stared at you as you let out another puff of smoke that curled around itself and vanished in the night air. it smelled like rain. you thought you saw a gust of lighting from behind a building.

“Y/N, i’m worried about this. i’m worried about you.”

that was a weird thing to hear, naive too, you thought.

sergeant kim namjoon. you’ve known him for years. polite, respectful, driven, maybe too driven. your partner in this last case. he took a particular liking to you after you helped him catch an abuser his first year of being sergeant and as much as it was inexplicable to you it was very easy for him to consider you in no time something more than a mere coworker, a friend, even. you realized with time that he craved human connections no one around the station or the city was eager to give him and he found in your uninterested passivity a sign of acceptance of a new friendship. but you don’t think he’s the clueless, clumsy man he portrays himself to be most of the time. you think he’s just a person who’s so desperate that he’d turn a blind eye, a deaf ear to the wolf in sheep’s clothing working alongside him if it meant he could keep someone close to his pathetically lonely heart. you think he’d be considered wretched and rotten and insane just like the rest of you.

when you didn’t answer he shook his head again. a slow hand passed over his tired face as if to wash away the stuff of nightmares you both have to work with.

“whatever organization or– or crazy person– i don’t know but whoever is doing this knows we’re looking for them. you and i, Y/N. and i’m used to your indifference but i’m worried you’re not taking this seriously. they’re getting closer, i can feel their eyes everywhere i go and i–  this group is–” 

“sergeant…”

he squeezed his eyes shut. to avoid tears from falling from his watery eyes? to ground himself in the shitty reality he’s cursed to live in?

“will you ever call me by my name?”

fuck, he really was naive. still is. always will be.

“sergeant,” you smiled more to yourself than anything but you saw him clinging to it as if it was his lifeline. “don’t compromise yourself over things you wish were true because they’re easier to come to terms with.” he hung from your words. he alway does. “don’t compromise yourself. you’re all you have, sergeant.”

on that occasion you don’t know why you said those words if to really speak to him and reassure him or to drive him away from your business. you just know you did and it seemed to free him of something and burden you of something else. you just know that sergeant kim namjoon passes through your mind numerous times in the weeks that follow the conversation.

you’re walking further in the alley when you’re forced back to the rainy present by the sound your ears capture in the drowsy silence of the early morning. you take off your hood to listen.

someone is following you. you can hear their footsteps, speeding when you are speeding, slowing down when you do the same. you stop in place. you can feel their presence, hear their breathing, their arms stretching out towards you, a hand coming from behind and reaching out. 

a single lit match floats in front of you held by a bodiless fingers.

“surprise.” barely audible, whispered into your neck.

your mouth pulls into a small smile as you stretch your neck to light the cigarette you’re keeping between your lips.

“it’s 5:37.”

a silent kiss is placed on the exposed skin between your jacket and your hair.

“i know.”

“you’re late.” you muse. a drag of the cigarette and you gently blow the smoke in the dark in front of you.

the voice talking to you finally gets a face when the man behind you slowly circles you. he lets his hands travel from your shoulder to your waist as he comes standing in front of you. his eyes are crinkled with glee, his usually mischievous grin softens when he sees how you’re looking at him: amusement hidden by a thin veil of annoyance.

he takes your face in his hands, a rough thumb swipes over your cheekbone. the smell of sulfur hides his usually earthly perfume. 

“seven minutes, love.”

“seven minutes late.”

he huffs out a laugh and lets his hands pass through the wet strands of his hair.

he looks good even with ash in them and eye bags under his eyes. 

it makes you feel weird when you think about these things. when you find yourself admiring him as if you’ve finally found something worthy in the pool of mediocrity you’ve been swimming in since you can remember. it never occurred to you that people —insipid, dull, hypocritical— could make you feel like you didn’t want the world to end anymore. 

they both made you change that about yourself and at first it was alarming how quickly you fell into them. you don’t know what it was but for the first time, you felt seen. not understood or full, no they couldn’t do that with you just as much you couldn’t understand or fill them, but you were visible. you were there, and they were too.

hoseok lazily looks around the dark alley one last time before taking your hand in his and gently pulling you along inside the building, to the flights of stairs that take you to the roof. 

you know that with his silence he’s giving you the time to come back to yourself, to hide again what you know he’s already seen time and time again. it’s still hard for you to freely show what you feel but they’ve never pushed you and often you find yourself wanting to tell them how glad you are about it.

“he’s late too, you know. i hope he gets the same treatment when he arrives, mh?” he quips once you reach the roof and the other man’s dark mop of hair is not standing there, tapping an impatient foot on the cement floor. 

“he has responsibilities. he’s gonna be late sometimes.”

hoseok gasps, “and i don’t?!”

“your only responsibilities are lighting a match and hiding from whatever mental hospital you ran away from, jack. stop whining, you know i don’t particularly like it when you do it.”

he pouts as you blow smoke in his face. you know he wants to argue against words that are nothing more than simple truth but he settles on whining more. “and i don’t like it when you call me jack.”

“i know.”

“then why do you do it?”

“you’re cute when you’re upset, hobi.”

he sputters out something about indulging crazy people just as the rusty door of the rooftop creaks open.

he stands there. the healed scar on his eyes casts a dark shadow on his porcelain skin. he looks the part, you think. born and raised in the same city that doomed you from the start. you also think that’s why you found him and he found you. you’re not that different.

you take the last drag of the cigarette and throw the butt on the floor, putting it out with the heel of your boots.

“did you finish the job?”

you look up at him as hoseok stands behind you. his hand sneaks to your waist. you know he’s sending a proud smile to yoongi.

“you know we always do,” you answer calmly, truthfully. it’s just facts. you always do. you always follow through with his requests. this time it was seoul police getting too comfortable snooping around his business, the next time could be one of his allies threatening his authority a little too much. he trusts you. you trust him. it’s a mutual act of something akin to what people call love. it’s not even that absurd if one thinks about all the things people say they do for love. you’re just humans like the rest of them. fragments of decay.

“and they said i had ‘behavioral issues’” hoseok scoffs from behind you.

yoongi smiles at the picture in front of him. he takes your hand in his, kisses your knuckles. does the same with hoseok. sweeps a thumb over a dark smudge of coal on his cheek. 

the sun must have risen behind the thick layer of clouds —the bubbling of the tempest can be heard in the distance. the three of you stand there, huddled close, subtly holding hands. dark smoke, the blaring siren of an alarm, and faint screams rise from the police station in front of the office building you're in while the rain still cascades unforgiving from the heavens.

a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.

you still don’t get it but you let out a silent chuckle anyway. if it made your partners laugh that much in bed last night then it truly must be funny.

end note. i didn't want to put this at the beginning bc i didn't want to spoil anything but i started writing joon's texts/ voicemails to Y/N after the 'incident' and if you're curious pls tell me i can finish them and maybe do a little drabble spin off on that! lmk <33

[msfcatlover]

OH BOY, GUESS WHO GOT CARRIED AWAY AGAIN!

Fuck it, I'm posting this one to AO3. It's self-contained and I'm proud of it.

For the record, ASL is Cass's primary (not body language) language in this. She uses her voice for emphasis, or for when people don't understand her signs and she wants to make sure they understand her (as long as it's cooperating. Words are hard sometimes.)

(Also, some sounds are just fun to say, but that's neither here nor there.)

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

Dick doesn’t meet Cassandra Wayne until he’s been living with her for almost a year. He thought he did, because he’d seen so many different sides of Cass (lounging around the house in workout clothes, silent & terrifying by his side as Batman, the harsh teacher & the gentle sister, telling deadpan jokes that usually make Dick double-take before he nearly falls over laughing,) but he never met Bruce Wayne’s Daughter, Cassandra Wayne until the first time his school called her.

Fighting, of course. Because children are cruel, and Dick refuses to just lay down & take it. It’s worse now that Bruce is dead. Before, Dick was just Bruce’s latest acquisition in a long line of assorted foster children, and everyone knew he was there to stay. Now… Dick heard Duke arguing with his service worker to keep Dick at the manor, trying to convince her that Dick shouldn’t be moved to a different placement during such a traumatic time, that the manor & the people in it were still all vetted as a safe place for Dick, even if someone else needed to file for guardianship. Dick’s pretty sure the only reason he’s still sleeping in his own bed is the kind of publicity the Waynes could bring down if someone tried to take Dick away.

(The other kids know it too. Just like they know Bruce’s kids never asked to be saddled with Dick. Just like they know Dick is new, and difficult, and doesn’t belong. They’re happy to tell Dick about it, no matter how many times he shuts them up with his fists.)

Normally, it would be Duke who answered the call, since he’s the one most likely to be awake at any point during the day. Duke will walk in, all casual power & disarming snark, charm the secretaries, dance circles around the other parents, get Dick’s punishment lowered, and then take Dick out for ice cream. Sometimes it will be Damian, who comes in like an ice storm, fury painted across every line of his form, and who will spend at least 10min locked in the principal’s office yelling at people. After, Damian bundles Dick off to the car, and then just sits there with his forehead pressed against the wheel for a minute before even looking over. “Don’t repeat any of what I said in there, okay?” And Dick will agree, and then they’ll go to the park.

That’s what Dick’s expecting: one of his new "brothers," come to talk to the adults and get Dick out of trouble. He did not expect Miss Cassandra Wayne, in all her glory.

She opens the door like she’s disgusted she even has to touch it, pushing it away the second she can so that a soft open turns into a sudden bang. Her hair is slicked back from her face, product taming the usual messy fly-aways, giving a severity to her expression Dick’s never seen before. She’s wearing a suit with a tight pencil skirt that makes her normally loping stride into something short & clipped, amplified even more by a pair of silver stiletto heels so narrow you could probably stab someone with them. Dark lipstick draws attention to the annoyed press of her mouth, diamonds glitter at her ears & throat, and her eyeliner is sharp enough to kill a man. Dick hasn't seen her wear makeup since the funeral. He can't remember seeing her wear jewelry at all.

She doesn’t look at the principal. She walks right past them, past the parents & other children, to Dick in the far corner. Cassandra Wayne crouches down in front of him, her face softening. She lifts one hand to Dick’s cheek, wiping away a tear that isn’t there and brushing her thumb over an already blossoming bruise. With her other hand, she signs to Dick, asking if he’s okay.

Dick’s hands are shaking. If he lifts one to tell her he’s fine, everyone will see it. He nods stiffly instead.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow. “Who started it?” she asks Dick, still without opening her mouth.

What’s Dick supposed to say? He’s the one who threw the first punch. They deserved it. The things they said… Dick doesn’t know how to make people be better, but he can make them regret being shit. And it’s a lot harder to pronounce slurs with a split lip or bitten tongue.

Cass reads him. The shame in Dick’s shoulders, the still-simmering anger in his clenched fists & jaw, the fear in his small swallow & the way he won’t meet her eyes. When one of the others asks if they can get on with it, she sees Dick’s flinch and the way he fights not to curl in on himself, to not give them the satisfaction of seeing his misery.

“What did they say?” Cassandra asks Dick. He wouldn’t repeat it, even if he knew the signs.

“Some of us have work—“ one of the parents says, and Cassandra’s hand swings back, snapping shut in a “No” that you don’t have to know a single sign to understand; so fast & so sharp, it looks more like a closing mouth. (The parent does, in fact, shut his mouth.)

Cassandra brings her hand back around. “What do you need?”

Maybe Dick is going to cry. “I’m so tired,” he tells her, the hand movements tiny like a whisper, but his whole body sagging into the emotion. “I want to go home.”

Cassandra Wayne nods once and stands. She looks at the principal like he’s something she'll have to scrape off her shoe, and she's not looking forward to the experience.

“I don’t see what’s so complicated,” Cassandra Wayne says, voicing her words for the first time. “We have reported this bullying problem before. Many times. Too many times. My child should not be in this office twice a week because you—“ she points at the principal, “—can’t enforce your own rules.”

Several jaws drop around the room. (Dick's is very nearly one of them.)

“Mr. Grayson—“ the principal starts.

“Doesn’t mock his classmates for their grief or call their family slurs,” Cassandra Wayne cuts him off. “Anyone who can’t manage to enforce that basic level of dignity doesn’t deserve to be called a ‘teacher.’” Her eyes flick to the side, sizing up the other adults in the room. “Or ‘parent.’”

“My daughter has a black eye—“

“Richard has a fractured cheekbone. And a history of being verbally assaulted by the students at this school.” Cassandra Wayne tilts her head slightly. “If you want to make this a legal battle, go ahead. You won’t win.”

Spluttering. The parents appear to have forgotten English. Or any other language.

The principal stands. “There’s no need to bring lawyers into this. But we cannot have a violent child at this school.”

“Then you don’t.”

“What?”

Cassandra Wayne lifts her chin, somehow staring down her nose at a group of people who are all taller than her. “You don’t. Richard is no longer your concern. Focus on your bullying problem.” She holds out one hand towards Dick without looking. He scrambles out of his chair to grab on. “Other schools will be happy to have him as a student.”

“You can’t just—“

“I can.”

Cassandra Wayne turns her back on the principal and leads Dick out the door, parting the parents before her. Dick has to half-jog to keep up with her the whole way out of the building. Despite her speed, Cassandra never once tugs or pulls on Dick, and he’s gone faster for longer in training & patrol; by the time they reach the limo, Dick’s not even winded.

Cassandra Wayne opens the door for Dick, then follows him inside.

Cass half-flops onto the seat beside Dick, slamming the door behind her. “Bullshit!” she signs, blowing a raspberry at the same time. Dick giggles. Cass smiles at him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dick says, hand & voice at the same time. She knows already, but she still relaxes at the words.

“We should’ve pulled you out weeks ago. Those idiots!” Dick giggles again as Cass’s hand goes from gesturing at the school to thumping against her forehead.

“Probably,” Dick agrees with her. He kicks his feet. “Can you actually pull me out, though? Don’t you need Duke for that?”

“Duke will agree with me if he knows what’s good for him.” Cass huffs. “Anyway, we both signed the papers. You’re mine as much as his.” She looks very pleased with herself.

Warmth bubbles up inside Dick’s chest. “Oh. That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

Cass laughs. “We’re Waynes.” She finger-spells the name for emphasis.

Something about that, the casual inclusion, the ease with which she throws her name to him, cuts deep. Dick must show something, because suddenly Cass is turned towards him, facing Dick full-on so he can see her serious face. She speaks & signs at the same time, her voice slow & clear, hands measured & precise.

“Those people—" (She signs idiots again.) "—don't know our family. No one does. You're one of us, whether you take the name or not.”

Cass takes Dick’s hands in hers. “You’re my brother,” she says softly, earnest truth radiating from every part of her body. “We care about you.”

It’s a lot.

It’s too much.

Dick’s chest is doing something painful, Dick’s eyes are burning, and Dick can’t stop the tears from spilling out down his cheeks. Dick’s voice is stuck in his throat, his hands curl into inexpressive fists to uselessly wipe the tears away. He doesn’t know what to say—

Cass wraps her arms around Dick and pulls him onto her lap. She strokes his hair and shushes his sobs, ignoring the tears & snot ruining her best business suit.

(Cass isn’t quite sure if she’s said the right thing—tears can be good or bad, and Dick’s feeling so much right now—until she catches Alfred’s eye in the rear view mirror. He’s a little misty-eyed himself, and giving her the proudest smile she’s seen in years. Cass smiles back, then turns her attention back to Dick. It’s nice to know she’s on the right path.)

[iamstartraveller776]

💙 and anything other than the NoTP. ;P

Here's some Lokane for you, my friend. <3

Modern/Non-Magical AU, Rated T (Also on AO3)

Prompt list

FUN SURPRISES

"Listen, listen," Jane said, her words a tad elastic at the edges. "I don't like you." She poked a finger into Loki's shoulder to punctuate her statement as he escorted her into the lift.

He was tempted to capture her hand and... And what? He wasn't certain he wanted to finish the thought. When it came to the little she-devil of astrophysics, his feelings were, at best, complicated. At worst, well... He wasn't going to finish that thought either.

"I'm serious," she kept nattering on as they ascended. "Sometimes when you talk about dark energy, I want to kick you in the face."

That drew an involuntary laugh from him. Oh, he knew. He spouted the most inane shit all the time just to get a rise out of her, especially during conferences like this weekend's. The way her nose would scrunch, cheeks turning bright red, lips curled in a snarl—so gratifying, that.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open.

"I'd very much like to see you try, Foster," he said, grasping her elbow when she started to wander off in the wrong direction. "Though I'm not sure your legs are long enough to reach all the way up here."

She growled and it was unreasonably endearing. Like a snapping Pomeranian. "That's what I'm talking about. You're so...so arrogant!" She tried to shove him but stumbled back on her heels instead.

He caught her by the waist before she fell over—it wouldn't do to have that pretty silver cocktail dress ruined—and steadied her against him. She put her palms on his chest, eyebrows pinching together in consternation. Her fingers tensed and then slid upward and out. Then in and down.

She made a disgusted noise. "You're such a jerk," she complained. "Why do you get to be a supernova?"

He stared at her. "A what?"

Her hands roved over his torso again, less tentative this time. "It's stupid how hot you are."

His mouth stretched in a wide grin. Wasn't this a fascinating turn of events? He was going to milk that crucial bit of data for a very, very long time.

"Stupid dimples." She lurched forward, gripped his shirt and tie to stay upright.

He sighed. Merciless teasing would have to wait until she was sober. He took her hands in his—so dainty for all that steel she had—and encouraged her to let go, to continue on toward her room. When she teetered again, he bent over, lifting her into his arms. She squeaked in surprise, but then rested her head in the crook of his neck, fingers curling in his hair.

Don't get any ideas, Foster, he almost said as the usual part of their heated banter but thought better of it. He did want her to get ideas. He liked these ideas in particular. A whole new game for them to play.

"He said the spark was gone," Jane mumbled into his collar. "Came all the way to New Orleans to tell me that. He went to the French Quarter without me."

Ah, yes. That boring doctor she'd been dating for half a year. "Bastard." So this was the reason he'd found her in the hotel bar, giving a drunken lecture on Hawking radiation to the nearest patrons. The bartender shot Loki a grateful look when he convinced her to leave.

"Right?" she said. "You're an asshole, but even you wouldn't go to the French Quarter without me."

"Never." He set her down by her door. She swayed on her feet, and he gently pressed her into the wall with a hand on her bare shoulder. "Key card?"

"S'in my pocket. 'Cause this dress has pockets!" She clumsily patted at her hips until she found one, shoved her hand in, and pulled out the black rectangle of plastic with a triumphant smile. "Ta-da!" She giggled at her own joke with a fetching little snort.

"Clearly you missed your calling as a world-renowned magician." He took the card, unlocked her door, and gestured for her to go in.

She looked up him with large, glossy eyes, mouth drawn in a fake pout. "You're not going to carry me over the threshold? Wimp."

He smirked before slinging her over his shoulder. She squealed and pommeled his back halfheartedly. He kicked the door closed, switched on the lights. The place looked like her suitcase exploded. Clothes were strewn in haphazard piles on the back of the overstuffed chair, on one side of the bed, on the desk beneath a stack of papers and a partially closed laptop.

"Put me down," she demanded to his shoulder blades.

"As the lady commands." He flipped her onto the mattress and she...laughed? Not the lovely scowl he expected, but—yes, this would do.

She propped herself up on her elbows, face practically glowing with delight. "See? I sparkle."

"Oh, yes." On that, they agreed completely. "Like the stars."

"Like goddamn Sirius."

He nodded. "Even more than that."

"Don't do that!" She slid off the bed suddenly with a frown and kicked off her heels before giving him another futile push. "You can't be hot and nice."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Why ever not?"

"Because..." she sputtered. "Because."

Adorable. He canted a brow. "Always so eloquent, Foster."

She sagged in relief. "Thank god. You're still you," she said. "I almost had to like you."

"Heaven forbid," he replied with feigned sincerity. This was quite possibly the most fun he'd had at any conference. He'd have to challenge her to a drinking game at the next one—if only to see what other secrets he could pluck from her loosened tongue.

She searched his face as though deciding something. "Come here." When he didn't immediately obey, she glowered. "Come. Here."

Why not? Whatever she wanted would likely provide more fodder to use against her later.

He leaned down, and as soon as he was within reach, she grabbed his shoulders, yanking him all the way to her—where she unceremoniously planted her mouth on his. His surprise hastily gave way to softness of her lips, to her fingers gliding up his neck to scrape through his hair. He braced himself against the bed to keep from falling into her, cinched his other arm around her waist, tugged her into him, and how she moaned. That sound. He would sell his soul to hear more of it, to have her petite body pressed against his indefinitely.

But no. Not this way.

Grudgingly, he broke off the kiss, relaxed his hold on her—though he couldn't bring himself to let go entirely. Not yet.

She tipped her head back with an exasperated sigh. "Dammit," she muttered. "Darcy was right. Sometimes you just have to kiss the bad boy to feel alive."

Loki liked that silly assistant of hers infinitely more now.

Jane pushed at him again, and this time he relented, taking a step backward. "Shoo!" she said, waving her hands. "I have to go to bed now."

He should leave—especially when she grasped at the side of her dress and wrestled with the zipper. But it was terribly entertaining to watch her get out of the thing with the grace of an amateur contortionist. To say nothing of the nude matched set she wore underneath. Oh, and the flash of ink he caught just above her hip. Look at that. Jane Foster had a wild side after all. She flung the dress across the room and crawled onto the mattress, wrenching the duvet over herself as she mumbled something about holographic entanglement.

This woman. He shut off the light.

Back in his room—three doors down—he took in his disheveled state with a grin. His mussed hair, the lipstick smeared at the corner of his mouth, the stain on the collar of his shirt. He took a selfie and sent it for her to wake up to in the morning.

Thanks for the memorable evening, Foster. I'm quite fond of the Einstein-Rosen bridge tattoo.

Because she wasn't wrong about him. He was an asshole.

(Who would take her to the French Quarter tomorrow night.)

~FIN~

[thirteenemeraldcats]

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

tagged by the terrifyingly talented @kvetchinglyneurotic and the impossibly incredible @sighonaraa

1. How many fandoms have you written in?

One! Uno! Eins! All of the ridiculously emotionally evocative writers in the Ted Lasso fandom completely broke my brain and launched me into the undiscovered country (fic writing).

2. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Since January, so about .3 years 🤗

3. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Definitely read. I am perpetually mentally exhausted in my free time and usually can't concentrate enough to write. That being said I also haven't had much time to READ fic lately. So. Help???

4. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Hmmmm. I'd say embracing the draft process? When I started writing fic (OH SO LONG AGO I KNOW) I was very 'this needs to be good' and now I'm appreciating the 'this needs to be FUNCTIONAL' mindset more.

5. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Definitely not weird BUT I did accidentally fall down a research spiral for ONE WORD in 'i learned to walk while he was away'. For context: I am not Jewish, but I head-canon Roy as Jewish and there is ONE LINE that references this in that fic. I wanted to double check if there was any significance to the different spellings of Hanukkah, lest I accidentally step on a cultural landmine. Cut to a day later where I'd fallen deep, deep down an equally enjoyable and educational rabbit hole about Jewish holidays, (fostered my ongoing vendetta against the English language,) and found a Jewish bakery that's local to me because I wanted to try Challah very badly. (It was great.) (There is not a large Jewish population where I live [in case that wasn't obvious] I'm blaming my now-semi-remedied culture blindness on that. But Em, you took an elective on world religion in University? SHUT UP I KNOW.)

6. What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

ANY COMMENT. I made an ao3 account last year because I wanted to not lurk quite so much, stop being a 'consumer' of fan-creations, and LEAVE SOME COMMENTS. And I'd seen authors talk about how great getting them was but holy guacamole nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of people liking something I wrote enough to leave a comment or a heart or an 'ah'.

7. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Errrrrrrr. I guess just gen-fic? Looking at the numbers of ship-fic in the archive, it certainly feels fringe-esque to write gen.

8. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

I was going to say 'short' because things just keep happening when I try to write succinct outlines (somehow NONE OF THOSE 'THINGS' ARE PLOT), but after applying a bit more scrutiny to anything I've ever written; it's action. Fast-paced action. I don't know her.

9. What is the easiest type?

Assorted emotional whacks! When I was writing original fiction a solid decade ago as a teen-bean I favoured physical-whump, me now has found it a lot easier to write emotional-whump. Not sure why??? But here we are. (Either way someone's suffering.)

10. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Okay this is actually a very involved story that I might tell later, but I just changed what platform I was using. SO! As of about a week ago I've been writing on google docs. Beyond that, it's a laptop/couch combo whenever I have the brain power (which is almost never 😭).

11. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

OOOF. There are a few wips in the assorted-mountainous-pile of non-active development that are. Heavy. Heavier than the various fics/wips I've published/am actively poking at. I'd like to write them one day but I am also very 'hmm' when I look at them.

12. What made you choose your username?

So 'Em' is a real-life nickname, smash that together with my love of the colour green and tada! You get 'emerald'. 'Cats' is about... cats. I am obsessed with the little creatures, despite never owning one. (Initially I spelt it as 'kat'- no idea why??? I think I just like the letter 'k'???? Potassium?????????? B A N A N A???????????????) And 'thirteen' is my favourite number, just because I find the concept of a number being considered 'unlucky' hysterical and the idea that some airlines genuinely leave out a row thirteen because of superstition always makes me grin like an idiot. The order is purely because I like the image of a bunch of green cats running around together.

I have done a quick investigation and everyone I know has either already done this or already been tagged. (I have once again shown up two days late with iced-coffee to a tag-game. [At least I showed up, I forgot to do like three of these things despite loving them, I'M SORRY 😭])

If anyone sees this and they HAVEN'T been tagged, consider this your green-for-go flag and feel free to tag me as your tagger.

[jomiddlemarch]

20 questions for writers

Tagged by @asteraceae-blue who is Very Nice Indeed.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 876

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,544,499

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Brace yourselves. Mercy Street, Shadow and Bone, Foyle's War, Poldark, The Last of Us, GLOW, A Discovery of Witches, Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, Shogun, Harry Potter, Downton Abbey, Frozen, Dune, Ted Lasso, Star Wars, The Hour, Sanditon, Leap, Brooklyn 99, Far From The Madding Crowd, Beauty and the Beast, Wonder Woman, Gilmore Girls, Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, The Avengers, Parks and Rec, Betsy-Tacy, Wandavision, Rogue One, The Mandalorian, Bridgerton, Community, Solo, Iron Man, Call the Midwife, Lord Peter Wimsey, Fleabag, The Little Mermaid, Emma, The Guernsey Potato Peel Pie and Literary Society, Timeless, Rebecca, The Age of Innocence, Beecham House, World on Fire, And Then There Were None. A few more but I am tired now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

what it is to be a thin, crescent moon

A Wife--at daybreak I shall be

Point and Click

Bear with the truths I would tell you now

The subtlest fold of the heart

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do try and answer everyone, even if I just say thanks. I will delete really rude comments, which have fortunately been rare.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wrote "Because I could not stop for Death" for Mercy Street and killed basically every character at least once, making remaining characters miserable. Except for the last chapter, where I killed the guy we all loathed.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is tough because I mostly write happy endings. I think "But let thy silk twist down" counts as one, because Jed Foster is convinced that Mary is dying or has rejected him and then she surprises him by showing up and locking them into the sitting room. And in GLOW, "everything could yield him pleasure" allows Sam and Ruth to get back together over Christmas.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not very often. It's mostly been in big fandoms (Reylo, Shadow and Bone, I'm looking at you) but it hasn't been a big issue on AO3 or Tumblr. And I'm comfortable deleting and blocking.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, when I feel it's called for. I write grown-up sex scenes, so there are no wacky positions (unless someone talks about how they're going to throw out their back) and sometimes a breastfeeding mother's milk lets down or a woman struggles to have an orgasm. It's pretty vanilla though and all cishet. In the cock v. dick debate, I lean cock. I don't use other euphemisms for male genitals unless someone is quoting a poem. (I'm not sure that has happened but it totally could with me.)

No one in any of my sex scenes has had any bodyscaping and a not insignificant number of times, someone has left their socks on.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

OMG, YES. I love a crossover. Probably my Mercy Street/Sesame Street crossover has to be up there for zaniness. I did put Shadow and Bone characters in AOGG Prince Edward Island and I have also crossed over All Creatures Great and Small vets (James and Tristan) into the Grishaverse.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've been asked for permission but I don't think I gave it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes. During the pandemic, there was the Mercy Street Murder Hotel round robin with @tortoisesshells @fericita-s @broadwaybaggins @sagiow @mercurygray and also the Cruise Ship with @sagiow and @fericita-s.

(Pro tip: it's easier if you agree on your murderer BEFORE you start writing but it was fun writing clues that were 50/50 going to be red herrings.)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Given the number of fics I've written for them, I have to say Mary Phinney/Jed Foster but it really could be smart-woman-who-is-underestimated/quippy-guy-who-gets-he's-smart-but-not-as-smart-as-she-is-and-that's-the-turn-on

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This may make people sad, but I have a hard time seeing my way clear to an ending on "what is it to be a thin crescent moon" largely because I'd have to do some more plotting to get where I'd want to go. It's never say never but the truth is, I originally intended to stop when they got to the Little Palace, so everything after that was basically improv.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at capturing a character's voice and I've often been told my work is poetic, which I appreciate, as I am a poet.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long-form plotting. I love to read it, but I get tired trying to create it and often resort to lily-padding (my own term for jumping from scene to scene.) I overuse the word just. I don't play chess well but I cannot resist writing about gambits.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I try to keep it minimal, since I'm only fluent in English.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Mercy Street.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

What is this, Sophie's Freaking Choice? I really like my GLOW zombie road-trip story "Music shall untune the sky" because I gave them a good ride and there was so much angst! "Hope is the thing with feathers" is a fic I wrote for myself, when I was despairing about Real Life and US politics and human rights, where I let Christopher Foyle offer the comfort I desperately wished for.

Tagging @tortoisesshells @fericita-s @sagiow @broadwaybaggins @oldshrewsburyian @orlissa @amarguerite @aloveforjaneausten and @aquitainequeen but anyone else is welcome to hold forth!

[sweets-fanfics]

Hogwarts Legacy fanfic fans look here!!

here is another link to my Hogwarts Legacy story! I've been working on this story for almost a whole year now! I will Link the Wattpad and ao3 link! It also has two other books all on Watt. Before you say, "Why would I click on a random link?" Here is a little sneak peek at the very first chapter.

Links and a sneak peek of the first chapter are under the break :)

_________

            Third person pov

Newt groaned as he read the text again. "That's very inconvenient." He mumbled. Tina looked up from her reading.

"You find it?" She could tell from his tone it wasn't good news.

"The relic we need was destroyed almost 40 years ago."

"You mean there are no other moonstones?"

Newt needed the moonstone for the group of mooncalfs he had just been given to foster after they were found during a poacher raid by the ministry. He could tell they were traumatized and thought the moonstone would help. But it said the stone was accidentally destroyed by students around 1890.

"Well, what should we do?" Tina asked softly.

Newt picked up a nearby notebook and flipped through its pages quickly. "Actually. I know someone who attended the school around that time.. maybe she can help us..."

Tina closed her book and went to grab her coat. Newt looked up confused. "Where are you going?"

"We are going to see your friend?" She asked wondering why he was confused.

Newt smirked at her eagerness, "she's a very private and not very trusting person anymore. She may not help us."

"What's her name?" Tina asked still continuing to get ready.

"Ava La Fey."

"She's French?"

Scamander chuckled. "Partially, her parents were born in France but she was born in New York. She was accepted into Hogwarts when she was 15. Had to start as a fifth year. She's an extremely powerful witch. Last I saw her though she claimed she no longer wanted to use magic. Something really traumatized her."

Newt had found it strange when he met a girl wearing a Hufflepuff robe and an American accent. When he met her she had just practically fallen out of the sky and landed in front of him as he walked through Hogwarts one day to visit Dumbledore. 

"Who would be so traumatized to give up magic at 50 years old?" Tina asked making Newt realize Tina was picturing an old woman and not the now 17-year-old who he was talking about.

"Oh, Tina she isn't old."

Tina looked at him confused. "What?"

_____________

I sat up quickly in bed panting. I fumbled around the bedside table for my wand and my clock. "Lumos" I whispered making the tip of my wand glow so I could see the time clearly. My eyesight had gotten worse after I took a blow to the face while having that final battle with Ranrok. The scar above my left eye always seemed a be sore even almost two years later.

I start to put down the clock and wand when I hear the floorboards in the other half of my small apartment creek. I stop moving and start to hear muffled voices. "What the hell?" I whisper softly.

I quietly get out of bed careful to not step on the parts of the floor that I know creek. Luckily I had left my door already slightly ajar the evening before so I wouldn't have to twist the handle that groans every time I do.

As I peek through the crack in the door I see two bodies seeming to be looking around.

No way any poachers or ashwinders would have found me after all this time.

I took a deep breath and threw open the door pointing my wand at the two bodies who spun around pulling out their wands and pointing. "Lumos!" I yelled quickly so I could see their faces. The last person I ever expected to see.

"Newt?"

"Oh Ava, good. I had the right address."

"No," I stated as I turned on a few of the lamps in the room with my wand.

"N-no?" He asked confused.

"Whatever it is, I'm not helping I don't do magic anymore." Newt kinda chuckled at the fact that I used my wand to start boiling water. "I'll make you and your friend some tea and you can leave after."

"We need a moonstone," Tina spoke up.

"Oh you aren't British... do you want... coffee?"

"Oh no you don't have to. Tea is fine."

Newt shook his head, "A moonstone, Ava, I know you know how to get one."

I sighed, "I used it once and I gave it to someone special but I don't talk to him anymore. I mean, obviously." I gestured to everything around me. "I can't even guarantee I could go back."

"But you can try. I know your magic. I read about you when I went to Hogwarts. How you saved the school from Ranrok. If that ancient magic brought you here there's a chance it can go back." As he spoke the kettle started whistling and I walked over and poured the water into two tea cups and put tea bags into the water.

I stayed quiet as I put the tray with the tea on a coffee table and gestured for them to sit on my old ripped-up green couch I had gotten for half price. "I don't think I can go there Newt after Professor Fig passed and ... you know... I didn't want to be there."

"You won't see Sebastian though. You and your friend told your headmaster what he did I thought."

"Well, I think Ominis did. But I didn't stick around long enough to find out if anything happened. Besides..." I looked away as my face turned red, "I gave him the moonstone."

"You're joking." Newt sighed.

"I didn't need it anymore and I thought he'd find it cool."

Something in the female's face clicked, "oh was he your boyfriend?"

I could feel my face getting hotter, "no! Of course not why would you even- who even are you? Newt who is this?" I felt the urge to take back her tea.

"Terribly sorry this is Tina. She's an auror in America. You've had dinner at her house before." Oops. Newt took a sip of the tea and put his cup down. "Please, Ava. This will be the last time I ever ask you for anything."

I let out a long sigh. "Fine." Newt tried to find his excitement. "Is she coming? You better talk her through what's about to happen while I get dressed."

"Oh yes," he turned and began to explain everything while I walked back into my room and shut the door.

I opened the doors of the oak wardrobe and looked for an outfit I could put on. I knew none of my muggle clothes would be extremely helpful so I shut the doors and slowly turned around and looked at the old trunk sitting in the corner. I walked over slowly and lifted the lid.

A layer of dust puffed up as the lid lifted. Inside was my old uniform I arrived in and a few of my old outfits. I wasn't sure if any of this would even fit. The first thing I pulled out was my verdant hat. The yellow ribbon Poppy had tied around the base was still there with the edges of the bow and point of the hat still singed from when Sebastian taught me another fire spell.

The grey outfit I'd wear on every adventure was the next thing I pulled out. "I guess this will do." I pulled everything on and as I was lacing up my brown leather boots there was a knock at the door. "I'm decent, come in."

Newt opens the door. "She's ready."  He then holds up a niffler. "Also is this one of yours or one of mine. I caught him going for my watch."

The chocolate brown niffler gave me a tiny wave.

"Mine I'm sorry." I picked him up from his hands and walked over to my suitcase.

"You have one too?" Tina asked from behind Newt.

"I made his. That's why there are only two, mine and his." I lifted the lid and dropped the niffler in before closing it. "A friend of mine from Hogwarts got me into rescuing magical creatures from poachers." I locked the suitcase and took one more look in the mirror as I lifted my hat and put it on my head.

The outfit sort of fit still. I had filled out more since I'm 17 and no longer a 15-year-old fifth year. I may have gotten a tiny bit plumper as well, but, curves have never hurt anyone.

"Alright, I'm ready." I picked up the suitcase and walked back into the living room.

"Where do we need to go?" Newt asked.

"Go?" I walked to another door and opened it.

The two peaked inside and all that was in there was an old archway like the ones from my trials from the keepers.

"How did you get this in here?" Newt asked.

"I was using this as a pantry but one day I woke up and it was just in here. It's ancient magic I'm not sure still how it works even if I can use it."

"So you could have gone back to your original time this whole time?"

"I mean, maybe. I'm not sure. I haven't tried seeing as I was hiding."

"Oh yes, my bad."

I could already see the glowing specks around the base of the archway. "Alright, I'm going to try to do something but the blast from it sometimes knocks people back."

The two instantly stepped back as I lifted my wand and  I let the ancient magic shoot from the wand and activate the archway. The blast did indeed shoot out almost knocking me over as well but soon a portal appeared.

The three of us all peeked in, "Where is that? Hogwarts?"

"The undercroft," I said almost too excited. "Merlin I hope this is the right year."

As Newt turned to ask what I meant by that I pushed them through first before I stepped in after and before I could change my mind.

As we all stepped in I turned around just to see the portal shut. "Oops.." I mumbled.

"Well, how is that going to help us," Tina asked also watching it dissipate.

"I can probably find another way for you guys. But first, let's get your damn moonstone." I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

I was really nervous. And I don't like getting nervous. I stopped at the gate to leave and held my breath. Was I really ready to go back? I mean, i really didn't have a choice now that the portal closed but still.

"It'll be okay." I heard Newt say somewhere behind me. "You are the Hogwarts savior if. I remember correctly."

I nodded and puffed out my chest as I walked out and the other two followed.

_____________

Looks good right!?!?! :D You should read it! Not all chapters are on Ao3 yet but I am working on transferring them over.

[pens-and-gems]

Preview for The Queen Bee and the Vesperia-Chapter 2:

Hey ya'll @muggle-born-princess here about to post the preview to my Chloé and Zoé semi AU Fanfic: The Queen Bee and the Vesperia.

For those who don't know, this is one of my fanfics that I plan to post on my @pro-bee-sisters blog as well on my AO3 and DeviantART both. To summarize the plot: It’s basically inspired by the Mark Twain classic "The Prince and the Pauper" as well as the Barbie adaptation: "The Princess and the Pauper."

I did make Chapter 1 almost a year ago, where you can find on my AO3 and DeviantART both. (Click the links on the names)

But for now, here is the sneak preview to the next chapter; where compared to the last chapter, where we knew what Chloé is like or will be like in the story, this time we will focus more on Zoé and how her role will play it in the story.

So please, enjoy this sneak preview:

Chapter 2: Chloe the Queen Bee and Zoe the Vesperia

Down in the basement of Audrey’s fashion house, there lived and slept a young girl that looked almost about Audrey’s own daughter, Chloe’s age and even appearance. She had a similar body type, light blonde hair, and both also shared the same colored-blue eyes as the young girl woke up to the sound of the basement’s air conditioner awakening her; though this didn’t bother her at all due to the room’s hot and stuffy environment. The young girl yawned and stretched herself at of the rusty bed she slept in and looked down as she saw her one and only companion she had: A stuffed honeybee that she called Mr. Buzzy.

“Time to start another day in Hell, Mr. Buzzy.” The young girl let out a sigh.

“VESPERIA!” A similar voice shouted, which made the young girl gulp. The door to the basement then slammed open hard and the reveal of Audrey Bourgeois came out.

“You’re still in bed?! Lazy as ever!” The fashion designer screamed, and all the poor girl could do was take it.

“Well, come on!” Audrey ordered. “You got a job to do. You need to get the thread I’d ordered, restock the fabric, polish the mannequins, and I need you to go into town to mail off a new dress line by two o'clock!” Audrey completed her orders. “You understand me, Wasp?” Zoe glared at her with despair in her face.

“My name is not Wasp, or Vespa, or even Vesperia. It’s Zoe!” The young blonde fought back, but her “employer” didn’t seem to care about the correction at all.

“Just get it done.” Audrey growled through her teeth as she walked out of Zoe’s “room.” The young blonde glared at her “foster mother” and then took a deep breath while she held her dearest bee plushie to her chest. She then began to talk to it as if it were real.

“Don’t worry Mr. Buzzy, we’ll get out of here and reunite with daddy again.” The young girl flashed a smile now and finally decided to get ready for her day.

Making her way up to the Haunt Coutre fashion house upstairs in her day clothes and all cleaned up now, Zoe began to start on her duties for the fashion designer, and those that worked for her.

“Good morning, Anasis.” Zoe sweetly told one of Audrey’s employees.

“Hmph, about time you’re here, Wasp” The Anasis woman snapped with venom. “Didn’t you hear your mother, you have supplies to get for us!”

“She’s not my mother,” Zoe argued back. “She’s only here so I can help pay back my father!” Another snobby woman joined the conversation.

“Oh, you mean the actor from New York?” She teased critically as she pinned on a sash to a dress she was currently working on. Anasis laughed viciously. “Oh yeah, how poor is he again?” Both women laughed with malicious intention, that all Zoe could do was angrily glare at the two rude women.

“Vesperia, come now!” Audrey shouted from across the room. Zoe sighed and walked up towards the horrible baroness who was at the front door, aggressively glaring at her.

“Honestly, you are just as worthless as my own family!” The blonde girl walked out the door as the older woman handed her a list of tasks as well as a golden tote bag to help the girl carry whatever she needed to get for her boss.

“And don’t be late!” The bossy woman demanded as she closed her door. After that was finished, Zoe once again let out a sigh of sadness before heading off until town to start her orders.

Meanwhile, at a school called College Francoise Dupont, a bespectacled girl with red hair wearing a purple sweater vest and teal-blue skirt was waiting anxiously outside the school, holding two cups of coffee.

“Oh, I hope she’s not running late!” The girl started to panic, to the point where she almost dropped the coffees. Meanwhile, two other girls, a girl with blue-black pigtails and another redhead with glasses, were viewing the anxious girl from a distance. The redhead shook her head and smirked.

And that's all for now, everyone! Hope you all enjoy it!

P.S.

COMMENTS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM AND FEEDBACK ARE ACCEPTABLE!

[matan4il]

What are your hopes for season 7? Also what do you think might change with abc? Do we have an indication of when we might get s7? Thanks for all your metas! I don’t even watch the show but I’ve been deep in the ao3 and the tags for a few months so it’s been good to follow along 💖🚒

Hi Nonnie! Awwwww, thank you so much for the kind words about my weekly meta posts. I'm really glad if they helped!

What are my hopes for s7? I think to say Buddie going canon is a given. I have wanted that since 201 gave us one of the wildest "enemies to friends to..." runs in human history. I would like for the show to do it well, but I don't have specifics in mind, because I really just so want it to happen. And of course, gimme all the Buddifer love!

I also wanna get to see and enjoy Henren with the girl they'll be fostering, and I want it to be successful this time and culminating in adoption. I wanna see Denny with his new sis, with all the love and struggles that entails. I also kind of hope maybe they let the fire kids interact again, and maybe Chris has some interesting thoughts for his dads after seeing it can be really cool to be a big brother...

I want meaty personal storylines for all the characters we love, but I recognize it's a difficult balancing act on an ensemble show. I want the Love Interests not to take up too much of the space that is already not always enough for the characters I do love, so I kind of hope one of them would be already gone by the time s7 starts, while the other will leave shortly after, but I want these departures to have significance for Buddie and lead to actual breakthroughs so we don't keep repeating this cycle.

I have no idea what changes to expect from ABC, the logical ones to me would be to look at what can bring 911 more buzz, raise the ratings and help make the show profitable. To me, that screams letting Buddie go canon, but I have no idea if that's the route they'll choose to take, or if they don't think any changes are needed, because 911 was, at the end of the day, Fox's best performing scripted drama. But the latter wouldn't make sense to me, to just take the show as is.

I hope this helps? Have a great day! As always, my ask tag. xoxox

[awiderangeofgreen]

Hell Week (aka Mother's day week) is done so I can finally come back to this ^^ Thanks for the tags @lilmaemae and @ella-norah 💚

Do you tidy your bed?

No XD my bed is a giant nest and one of the house rule is "if you are looking for one of my belonging, look in the bed and at the computer desk first, then under a cat." 🤣

What's your favorite number?

I don't really have one but I don't like 27, its taste is just weird and I can't wait for my birthday just to leave 27 behind me

What is your job?

I'm a florist^^ I've been for 4 years now after I decided to quit college after my english degree.

If you could go back to school, would you?

No. I love to learn new things but school is a place with most of the worst memories (and a few bests too) . I had to go back to school for my florist diploma and the age gap made it really difficult add to this I'm bat at social interactions. If i considered going back to school it would be College for a translation master degree or do research around gender studies

Can you parallel park?

I love to. Fun fact: I parallel park better than other "easy" park 🤣

A job you had that would surprise people?

I worked for almost a year in a high court. First few months was photocopying files and giving them to lawyers and others asking for them. And then I moved to registry. It was a really fun work and made me realize you can write about anything crime related, it can never reach reality without having someone tell you "that's unrealistic"

Do you think aliens are real?

yes, the universe can't be so big without having more about it. maybe they don't exist in a way we can comprehend but there has to be something

Can you drive a manual car?

Yes. I've been for more than 8 years now. Manual cars are the standard around here.

What's your guilty pleasure?

collecting/hoarding books that I know I won't read XD because all my reading brain goes to ao3 and reading in english

Tattoos?

so far I have one of my tuxedo cat scratching my leg.

Now I'm waiting for money for the others. I already have one planned in memory of my 3 buns, just need to decide the flowers I want to go with it and find a tattoo artist specialized in watercolor tattoo.

the other one will be on my right forearm with an arrow with aroace colors and zodiacal signs ^^

Favorite color?

Malachite or emerald green

Favorite type of music?

It depends on the mood. If I want my brain to quiet down a little I'll listen to death metal or any "screaming" music. But if you look at my playlists it is just a mash up of everything. It goes from classical to rock to metal to pop and so on.

(Okay, let's be real for a second too: Jeff Satur is really taking over my music. I need him to give me back my soul)

Do you like puzzles?

i love them. The logic behind solving them is really soothing. With my sister we also try to have regular jigsaw puzzle afternoon ^^

Any phobias?

I wouldn't say it's a phobia but I can't stand slugs. I love snails but slugs? can't see them, can't touch them.

Favorite childhood sport?

i liked badminton at school or running but things like sprint. There's something brrrr about trying to go as fast as you can in a really short distance.

Do you talk to yourself?

all the time

What movie(s) do you adore?

thrillers? I don't know 🤣 I read this question and suddenly I'm unable to remember what I watch.

I don't really watch movies anymore because I don't have the focus to stay in front of them so most of the time it's my sister picking one and I "half" watch while scrolling on my phone or writing (and then I ask too many questions about the movie because it's good but I have no idea what happened)

Coffee or Tea?

Both

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

A veterinarian but then I did an internship and realized I couldn't handle some of the emotionnal sides of the job. But now I'm involved in animal welfare, I'm also a foster family for exotic pets and working on opening an educational farm 🤣 so... I didn't really go far from my first idea, just changed how I wanted to help animals.

I have no idea who to tag so if you see this and want to do it, feel free to say I tagged you

[bumblepony]

for the ficlet thingy!

I finally got to your request @clickergossip, and I can not say how excited I am about it!!! Here is the story under the cut and cross-posted to AO3.

This is based in an AU that @mariatesstruther and @clickergossip created on Tumblr, where Maria is a superstar who ends up with Tommy as her fake boyfriend to appease the media. They soon become not fake boyfriend and girlfriend.

Joel Miller's Day Off

"Joel, it's so great to see you. Where are the girls?" Maria asks, taking some of the bags from Joel's hands.

"Sarah is tryin' to talk Ellie down from leavin' her swimmin’ suit in the car. She ain't too happy with what we bought at the store, but it was all they had after she left hers at the house." Joel says, looking back to the rental car where Maria can see the two girls arguing hotly.

"Oh, poor kid. Ok why don't you go in and Tommy will show you to your rooms. I'll talk to the girls and see if I can get this figured out." Maria says, moving away quickly. She's almost out of earshot when she turns suddenly and says, "Oh, and Joel, I invited one of my friends, Rose, along, if you see her, please be nice."

"When am I not nice." Joel responds, and Maria gives him a look like 'really' before moving off to the girls.

---

"So yeah, this is gonna be your room, and Sarah and Ellie are sharing a room down on the east side of the house. Kevin's room is over there, and little Mateo' is bunking in with Maria and I except on the nights the nanny is gonna be here." Tommy says, handing Joel a mini-map of the house with directions to all the different activities in the area. "You got this wing pretty much to yourself, except for Maria's friend, who's the next door down."

"Yeah, Maria was saying somethin' about her. Rose or somethin' like that." Joel says, dropping his luggage onto the bed so he can start unpacking.

"Yeah, Rose, that's her name." Joel hears a hesitation in his brother's voice, and he turns around.

"What? Are you gonna tell me I should be nice to her too? Maria already beat ya to it," Joel complains, putting his hands on his hips and popping his knee out in frustration.

"No, nothin' like that, I was more gonna say you might wanna watch out for her. She's ah, I can I say it. Your type." Tommy smiles when he sees Joel's face get flushed.

"What do you mean my type, I don't have a type." Jole grates and turns back to his bag.

"Well, we'll just see, won't we," Tommy says with a laugh before closing his door.

---

Joel comes out to the pool with black swim trunks on and a white t-shirt on top. He's just putting his bag down with sunscreen and water bottles when Sarah and Ellie come out of their side of the house. Sarah has got on a purple one-piece with sparkled detailing down the side, and Ellie is dressed in a black one-piece with white piping and matching black board shorts. She’s also wearing a bright lime green rash guard sleeve on her right forearm. He pushes his sunglasses up and looks her up and down.

"Where'd ya get that," Joel asks, his brow furrowing.

"Ah, Maria's friend gave it to me. She said she didn't need it she has another suit." Ellie flops down on one of the beach chairs. "This place is pretty bitching, it's gotta be nice having rich and famous relatives who can fly you out to that Bahamas for Spring break." She says enviously. Ellie was a foster kid who had been placed with him and Sarah about 6 months ago, and she was still getting used to the idea that she wasn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon. It had been a rough go so far, but things seemed to be getting better.

'Yeah, it is nice, I'd say." He reaches into his bag and throws a bottle of 60 spf sunscreen at her. "Put that on."

Ellie moans when she looks at the bottle. "C'mon Joel, this stuff is like a damn sweater."

"I don't care, with your fair complexion, you are gonna burn at the drop of a hat, put it on." He says, his tone brooking no arguments.

Ellie groans again, and Sarah comes over and sticks her hand out. "Here, Ellie, give it to me I'll put it on for you, then you can help me with mine." Ellie huffs, but she hands the bottle over to Sarah, and they work together to get the job done. Joel can't help the smile that creeps on his lips while he watches the two of them laugh and joke like they've been sisters forever. He hasn't told Ellie yet, but he and Sarah had talked about it, and they had decided they were gonna try to make her placement with them permanent. He'd already reached out to Marlene at the foster agency and got the paperwork started for adoption.

He tugs his shirt off and starts to apply his own sunscreen when he gets to his back and is about to call Sarah over to help him when he hears a voice behind him.

"Would you like me to help you with that cowboy?" Joel turns around and nearly does a double-take. It's a woman, her skin brown and lustrous in the sun; she only comes up to about the middle of his chest, and now he understands how Ellie was able to borrow a suit from her. Though she's got a fair amount more going on in the top area than Ellie probably ever will, Joel immediately cuts his eyes back up to her face in embarrassment when he realizes he was staring a little too long. She's wearing a bright blue one-piece with cutouts in strategic places, Joel can feel the blush creeping up his chest and neck when she smiles at him, a knowing look on her face.

“What’s that?” Joel stammers.

She reaches up to push up her matching blue heart-shaped sunglasses, and Joel can see that she's got a set of long blue acrylics on her fingers. "I said, would you like some help getting your sunscreen on? Then you can help me with mine." She says, holding a hand out to him and wiggling her fingers as she slides her glasses back on.

"Oh sure, thank ya," Joel says, handing her the bottle. "Ah, you must be Rose then. Maria's friend?" Joel asks, turning his back to her.

"That would be correct," She says before sucking her teeth and hitting him gently on the shoulder with her hand. Joel turns his head to look at her his forehead creased with confusion. "Could you sit down, maybe, I don't usually climb guys on the first date, and there's no way I can reach your shoulders properly otherwise."

Joel blushes again and shuffles over to one of the beach chairs. He hears her make her way over and then her hands are moving on his back and shoulders, carefully rubbing the sunscreen in. Joel hears a snort and looks up to see Sarah and Ellie staring at him, their hands covering their mouths, holding back laughter. Joel gives them both a glare, and they turn around and run off laughing to the other side of the pool, where Maria has just come out with Tommy and a baby Mateo in his adorable onesie swimsuit.

"Those your daughters?" Rose asks.

"Ah yeah, Sarah, she's the taller one. She's mine by birth. Ellie, there is a foster, but we are hopin' to have her with us permanently soon. Ah, shit, we weren't tellin' anyone that yet, we want to talk to her first about it. Please forget I said anything." Joel's not sure why he told her that, she’s got him felling wrong-footed somehow.

"Don't worry, cowboy, I won't say anything." She slaps the bottle onto his shoulder, and he reaches up and grabs it. "My turn." Joel stands up and moves out of the way. She doesn't bother to sit down, knowing he will have no problem reaching her back and shoulders.

"Thank ya for lending Ellie a swimsuit. She left hers at home, and the only ones they had at the store were not her style. She’s a might self-conscious.” Joel says, working the sunscreen into the soft skin of her shoulders. The back of the swimsuit cuts down her back to an almost indecent level but lets up just before it reaches too low, Joel finds himself wondering what the rest of her body looks like under the swimsuit. When he feels an uncomfortable heat start to build up at the base of his spine, he moves his eyes back up to her neck.

“It’s not a problem. I remember what it was like to be a 14-year-old girl.” Rose says, waving her hand in a shooing motion like it really wasn’t a big deal. Joel moves his hands down to her back, managing to finish without sneaking any more peeks. He places his hand gently on her shoulder and squeezes when he’s done.

“Finished.” He says, and she turns and gives him a megawatt smile. “I’m gonna go dip my feet in the pool. Wanna join me?” She asks, resting a delicate hand on his forearm.

Joel gulps his adam’s apple, bobbing up and down, and he has to clear his throat before he can answer. “Ah, sure, I’d like that.” She moves off, and Joel watches her sway her hips as she leaves.

Shit, Tommy was right. Joel knows he’s in fucking trouble.

[ninjafairy86]

Hiya I just binge read your fic fostering a nightmare, and was blown away by it! Your storytelling is phenomenal, presenting the turmoil about their relationship, but also it was a refreshing change of au! Needles to say, I ADORE it. Hope life is treating you well, and I’m not going to selfishly ask that you update it or anything, and I hope you aren’t bothered by me asking, but I was wondering whether you’ve abandoned it. Iit’s your story, so your choice! Much love💕

Thank you so much! <3 I think you may have sent this a while ago, but I didn't see it until now! I always forget to check the anon messages on my phone. Sorry! (FYI to you and everyone else out there, I'm never bothered by people asking about my stories or about how I'm doing. Feel free to send me a message anytime.) I love seeing that people are still enjoying my stories, even though I've kinda been quiet in the fandom for the last few years. I checked all the comments for the first time in a loooong while on AO3 today and it warmed my heart to see so many wonderful people sending love. <3 <3 <3

I'm still hanging around, doing fine. Writing has been a bit hard for me to focus on the last few years. I've grown and matured as a person and a writer, so looking back at my old work is difficult. I'll be honest - I've forgotten where I'm taking Fostering - what my plans even were. When I reread it, I don't like the pacing or what I was doing with it. Because of these factors, it's been difficult to pick it back up. :(

I have been working on completely re-writing and finishing one of my other Tomione fanfics before reposting it, but I'm being kind to myself and doing it slowly, without being hard on myself for taking my time. And hopefully - after that - I'll be ready to work on rewriting Fostering a Nightmare. :)

[mightymizora]

About fic recommendations: I can't recommend specific fics because I'm reading, but I can recommend some writers I've met and am subscribed to on AO3: Akirda Azukiel

LadyRagnelle PursuitsEternal

bg_brainrot

MysticalThoughts

lumienyx

vampirespawn

thesolarangel (Fics are restricted)

Most of it is Astarion because that's what I'm researching and looking at at the moment. I haven't read all of their works, but in general I believe they are good from what I've looked at. And can self-promotion(lol)? Why is there mine that I'm starting to write, if you don't ignore it.

I don’t know that I’ve read any of these authors so will have a look! I’ve not read much Astarion at all to be honest outside of the work of a few mutuals. I should brush up!

Also the only reason I was pulling away from self promotion in this instance is I really want us to foster a bit of critical care for each others work in the fandom. Be each other’s admirers the same way that people hold up each other’s art! Highlight what we like, the language, the themes, start to move away from just content consumption into creative community. Which you’ve definitely done here! But I will definitely keep an eye out for the burgeoning fic!

[courtney-deserved-better]

Emoji fanfic ask

❌🛒🥺⛔️

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

ohoho, so many. ive posted excerpts from a few on ao3, such as the gwourtney tdwt rewrite that i scrapped & the trent comes back to tdwt instead of duncan au that i only wrote one chapter for. the rest are locked away in my files and seldom looked at.

there's a fic for a new season back on the island that takes place a year or so after tdrr with all new challenges that i gave up on after like two and a half chapters (nemma was the main couple for that one to give you a sense of how long ago i wrote it lol).

there's a tdas fic from alejandro noah courtney and gwen's povs (guess what the main ships are...) that i planned out extensively and then started writing for that i haven't worked on in years, probably because the actual writing of it didn't seem nearly as good as the planning did.

there's a really old gwent & nemma fic that i think was an au of the black friday musical? idk what i was thinking. it was bad. it was nonsensical and it was bad.

and then there was this whole high school au that mostly focused on the theatre department and was absolutely based on my high school that was a hyperspecific flavor of weird (us students described it as a combination of a summer camp and a cult so uh... i guess that isn't too far off from tdi).

there was also a post tdrr season i planned out that took place on a cruise ship and contestants competed in trios? i read the one and only chapter i wrote for that and apparently alejandro had a younger sister named marcela who is honestly kind of an icon lol i should bring her back for a different fic or something.

and pretty much assume that for every season of total drama, i had at least one rewrite planned that i eventually abandoned. honestly it's sort of a long term goal of mine to write my own version of every season of td. i've got tdwt with slippery slopes, tdrr with amicus curiae, and eventually tdi with the courtney time travel au. we'll see how long that takes lmao it's already been over a year and i'm like 40% done at the most.

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

probably any kind of soulmate au. i just don't like the idea of a romance that's so predestined that there isn't any real development between the characters. i like to read and write feelings growing organically, and when the characters instantly lock eyes and have this automatic deep connection it just feels very artificial to me. that's not to say that all soulmate aus are like that, and there's actually one or two (non td) that i enjoy and regularly reread.

but i think to write a soulmate au i would need a very strong plot revolving around soulmarks and whatnot and i would rather just have the plot without the soulmates. i feel like the concept of soulmates implies that there's only one person a character can have a meaningful relationship with and once they find that person the relationship will be perfect.

i like reading/writing about the struggles that come with making the choice to be with someone you love without any certainty that they'll be your perfect person forever. the fact that you don't have that certainty but choose to stay and foster a relationship and have that hope for a bright future together makes it a lot more meaningful to me. i also feel like soulmate aus tend to prioritize romance much higher than friendship and those are two kinds of relationships that i like to place on equal ground in my writing.

im not trying to say that all soulmate aus are bad, or that ppl shouldn't enjoy them. they can absolutely be some people's jam and if it makes you happy then go for it! there are definitely tropes i like that other people don't for valid reasons and that's all okay.

thanks for the ask!

[thegodovereverything]

TMNTober

prompt: Mutant

Gen: Rise

Crossover with: King Arthur and Her Knights by K.M Shea

ao3 link

@tmntober-2023

You don't need to have read the book series to get a lot of this, but I'll place all needed info here (spoilers ahead for the book series) Britt was brought into the past by a spell Merlin cast on the sword in the stone, and now she has to become King Arthur. Only Merlins trusted men, the lady of the lake, and some other people know about her gender. This is set in book four, a little after Merlin found out Britt had a crush on him and was a complete ass about telling her she's going to become some calf-eyed girl blinded by love now.

Characters: Sir Ywain and Griflet (young knights who are following Britt around due to some recent assassination attempts) Sir Kay (her foster brother. He is aware of where she is from and her gender) Sir Ulfius (her chamberlain, which means he's in charge of rooms and stuff. Also aware of her gender) King Leodegrance (a king who is very greedy, morally dubious, and has no backbone. He sent some of his knights to stay at Camelot, along with Guinevere and the Round Table)

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

The day was brisk and windy, a storm brewing in the horizon. Sir Griflet and Sir Ywain lurked by Britt’s side as she made her rounds. First she checked on Sir Kay, who was scribbling something into that log book of his. She still has yet to be able to decipher Old English writing. Then she popped her head into the main hall, but instantly turned around. Lancelot was holding court, but she was in no mood to entertain him. Almost by habit she poked her head into Merlin’s study, stopping herself just in time. She still didn’t forgive him for being a misogynistic asshole. 

She ended her patrol at the stables, where she found her horses staring somewhat distrustfully at a stranger in the shadows. They were an odd shadow, as if half of their head didn’t exist, their shoulders strangely curved. They were also quite small, only reaching around Britt’s kneecaps. 

Sir Ywain acted first, stepping forwards, one arm protectively held in front of her, “Who are you? Reveal yourself before the mighty KING ARTHUR!” 

The shadow jumped, curling slightly into themself. She gently pushed down the eager knight's arm, giving Ywain a reassuring smile, “I’ve got this, Sir Ywain, thank you.”

She walked a little closer to the shadow, raising her hands as though she was calming a horse. 

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Every step she took, the shadow took another one back, until their back hit the wall of the stables with a solid thunk. With a small sigh, Britt sat down, grabbing some of the horse's hay to fiddle with. She looked up at her knights, who were holding themselves ready for any reason to defend her. “Sir Griflet,” she said, the young knight perking up, “please fetch Sir Kay for me. Do not infer that I am in any danger.” That last sentence she made sure to emphasize, the full breadth of her command as King Arthur in her voice. Griflet gave a deep bow, before hurrying off to fetch her foster brother. 

Sir Ywain stayed, still on guard. 

“Alright,” she directed this to the shadow, “do you have a name? You don’t have to come out, but I’d rather not call you The Shadow in my mind for all of eternity.”

There was a pregnant pause, before the shadow stiltedly whispered their name, “Mikey.”

Her brow furrowed. She considered herself well versed in most names of medieval times, but that was not one she recognized. “Well, Mikey, my name is Arthur. It’s nice to meet you.”

There was another pause, before the child–now she had no doubt that the small shadow was a child, spoke again. “Are you going to dissect me?” His voice was tiny, scared. 

Britt was pretty positive dissection wasn’t a word yet. “No, no one in Camelot will dissect you. Is that something you have to worry about frequently?”

The idea of someone threatening dissection on a child filled her with a nauseous feeling in her gut. Just what has this poor kid been through?

“Just from humans.” Mikey supplies, “Daddy says humans don’t understand us, and when they don’t understand something they get really scared. He said to be super safe and not to get caught by any humans ever . He said if we did too hide somewhere and stay there until he can find us. So I hid, but Daddy hasn’t come yet and it's been hours . This place is filled with humans, bunches of them! And they’re all dressed weird and there’s no TVs or comic books. But you’re super nice! So maybe you're different. I dunno. Donnie would. Do you know where my brothers are? Maybe they went through the portal too? That’d be nice… well, maybe not too nice. This place is scary…”

He trailed off, and Britt struggled to grapple with everything Mikey said. “Sir Ywain?”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Leave us. Do not let anyone enter but Sir Kay or Sir Ector.”

“But–” Sir Ywain lifted his hand, hesitant to leave his king alone with the shadow. 

“Leave.” Britt’s tone brooked no argument.

“Yes, My Lord,” Sir Ywain bowed, and Britt was left alone with the child. The kid from a different time. The child that has, just like her, been taken from his family against his will. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mikey said nothing, so Britt took that as permission to continue. “I’m not from here either. I’m from America.” Mikey perked up at this.

“Me too!” 

Britt smiled at the kid, who was still cloaked in shadows, “Really? That’s awesome!”

Mikey moved closer to Britt as she continued her tale. She talked about how, after touching the Sword in the Stone in some random graveyard in the future, she was pulled to the past. How Merlin told her about the actual King Arthur running off with a shepherdess, and the role she was going to be put in. She talked about her adventures as king, the friends she had made. She didn’t mention that there was no way back home. 

As she talked, Mikey moved closer, until he was nearly out of the shadows. His leg was the first thing clearly visible and it caused Britt to stumble over her words. His leg was green and scaled, with two toes poking forwards and one in the back. 

She forged onwards. She didn’t want to scare the kid, even if she was burning to know what he was. As she continued talking, Mikey moved closer to her. Slowly, he completely revealed himself. He was small and green, with orange spots peppering his face and splotching his shoulder. His shell raised to nearly half his face, explaining the high shoulder effect she noticed in his shadowed figure. An orange mask was tied back into a little bow, covering the middle of his face. He uncertainty moved until he was leaning against Britt’s leg, absolutely enraptured by her tale. 

Sir Kay enters, around when Britt was talking about her sneaking into King Leodegrance’s castle to look at the round table. Mikey shoots up and scurries to Britt, hiding behind her shoulder as he stares up at her foster brother. Sir Kay frowns. 

“I heard there was an intruder. Where are your guards?”

Britt rolled her eyes. “There was no intruder. Sir Kay, meet Mikey. Mikey, meet Sir Kay. Mikey’s like me.” Mikey gave a little wave from his hiding place.

Sir Kay stared at him blankly for a moment before abruptly turning around, “I’ll go fetch Merlin.”

“Wait–” He left as quickly as he came. Britt sighed. 

“So,” she refocused on Mikey, lighting patting his head, “do you remember what happened before you got here?”

He moved out his hiding spot as he talked, moving back into his position by her legs.

“Well, it was my birthday, so I gotta buncha gifts ‘n stuff. Donnie n’ Leo were arguing over who gave me the better gift (It was Leo, by the way. He got me so many art stuff!), n’ Raph was trying to break them up. Daddy was having one of his bad times, so I went to my room cause I was getting bored and my room is always the funnest. But then there was this portal, like in Jupiter Jim: Portal to the Planet of the Lamas. It was even orange! And it was very glowy. But when I went through I came here and now I wanna go back. Maybe Merlin can take me back? He’s the super wizard dude, right?” He placed both of his green hands on her feet, excitably leaning forwards.

Britt didn’t know what to say. This kid has been completely separated from everything he knew, at such a young age. She opened her arms and Mikey rushed into her arms, nearly knocking her on her back. Outside of the shed, she heard the muffled protestations of Sir Ywain before he was silenced with a threatening “Let me through, or else.” Merlin came into the stable.

Britt hugged the kid closer, glaring dagger at the wizard. “Hello, Merlin,” She snarled his name, making it clear that she would only tolerate his presence for so long. Mikey perked up at the wizards name.

“Please, Arthur, just let me help.” Merlin entreated, holding both hands up in the sign of surrender. She didn’t trust him, but she had no choice. She had to see if there was even a tiny way to get the kid back home. 

Her approval was given in a slight nod, followed by a bone weary sigh. Mikey bounded over to the wizard, tugging at his gandalf rip off cloak. 

“Hi! My name's Mikey! King Britt told me you're a great wizard that can do anything !”

Merlin gave her a sharp look, “Can you understand him?”

His words cause MIkey to pause his excitement, confusion replacing it. 

“You can’t?”

Merlin shook his head. 

“Well, I guess that makes sense, what with him being from the future and stuff. Guess that means he’s from around my time period then. Or maybe the far future? I can’t imagine anthropomorphic turtles exist in my time,”

Mikey cocked his head to the side, “am-throw-porthoric turtles? What’s that? Daddy just calls us mutants.” 

A mutant? Like from one of those comic books her sister loves so much? If Britt remembered correctly, a mutant was something painfully transformed by something radioactive. She winced at the imagery of a child being put through such a thing. It was best she just moved on entirely. 

“Hey, Mikey, what year is it? That you and your brothers were in.”

The tot kicked his feet on the dusty ground, considering. “Mmph. Well, I’m six, so, whatever year I’m six! Daddy says I was born in 2005…” The kid frowned in concentration while Britt did the math. That would mean he was supposed to be in 2011… a full three years before her.

Britt shook her head. She didn’t want to consider this.

“Ok, we’re going to help you. We’re going to get you your own room, and you can eat whatever you want, ok?” She stood up, then reached down her hand for Mikey to grab it.

“Merlin,” the wizard looked up from his notebook, which he had been furiously scribbling on. “Huh, oh, right. Yes, yes, we shall provide for the… kid? Either way, they are probably faerie and it is best we treat them with respect.”

Britt didn’t bother to correct him, he’d learn soon enough. She led the kid to Sir Ulfius, the chamberlain. As they walked, Mikey drew closer to her, nervously observing her citizens and knights as they gathered around. Whispers bounced off the walls, echoing with words like “demon”, “faerie”, “brought the devil”, and other nonsense that made Britt happy Mikey couldn’t understand old english. 

She knocked on Sir Ulfius’s door, “Sir Ulfus, I once again have another guest for you to prepare a room for.” She looked down at Miket, considered for a second, then, “One near mine, please.”

After they got Mikey settled into his new room (“Wow! Leo’s gonna be so jealous when he finds out about this!”), Britt bid the kid farewell, assigned a guard to babysitting duty, and went about the tiring task of damage control. She knew for this, she had to assure them personally. Merlin tried to offer his input, but Britt ignored him. She’s gotten really good at that lately.

Quickly, all her people that were able to be spared were gathered into the main hall. They whispered amongst themselves, but silenced almost instantly when Britt walked out onto the dais. 

“I have brought another guest into our castle!” She started, “a child who is but six years of age. He is lost, and alone. He does not look like you or I, for he is not from our land, but beyond. He is what is called a ‘mutant’. He is not the devil or a demon coming to bring misfortune. Nor is he a faerie. He is but a child, who is stuck in a land different than his own, with none who speak his native tongue. I trust in all of you,” She locked eyes with some of her knights, driving the point home, “to treat him with kindness and respect. He will be under all our charge, so that we may ensure he is kept safe during his stay. If I find that any of you have not treated him chivalrously, I will cast you from Camelot.”

The room was uneasily silent. One of King Leodegrance’s knights came forth, his face red from anger. “You cannot believe we will tolerate this mutant, ” he spat out the new word, like it was a curse, “who knows what sort of devilry this thing could invite into these walls! Surely you cannot allow this!” He shrunk back under Britts icy gaze.

“If you are so offended by his presence, then you are free to leave.”

The knight blustered for a moment, before cowing under the weight of her gaze. 

“I will not tolerate any of you making him feel unwelcome, no matter what status you may hold,” She directed this at Lancelot. She almost hoped he would break this rule so that she may have an excuse to cast him from her walls. However, she didn’t want Mikey to be mistreated, so that hope was an empty one. 

“However, I know you all,” she looked amongst her knights and people, “and I trust that you will be as chivalrous as I know you to be. So, I ask you all: Is that trust warranted?” 

Her people roared their approval, nearly bursting her eardrums. Britt smiled at them proudly. 

With one last cheer, she departed from the dais, disappearing into one of the many secret hallways scattered about the castle. She was sure there would still be some adjustment and push back, but eventually he will be welcomed. She only hoped they could find a way to get him home, but she doubted it. Like Merlin said, it was easy to pull someone back, not so easy to push them forwards. She’ll wait a bit before telling the child, however. No need to inundate him with too much change when he was still adjusting.