#laura writes canon

[allatariel]

Laura rolled onto her back and stretched, her body curving invitingly into the length of him still spooned along her right side. Just as Bill stirred to oblige her, daybreak’s first light spilled bright and warm across his face and he squeezed his eyes tight against it. She slipped from the shelter of his arms, their bed, and yet blinded, he followed her path with his palm spread wide along the cool sheets, stretching, reaching for her across the gulf between them. 

Her breath caressed his ear like a warm breeze, her voice like the murmuring of honey bees in the garden whispered, “It will not be long, love, ‘til our wedding day.”

Finally opening his eyes, Bill beheld her haloed in the gathering light of dawn, its rosy fingers caught up in the riotous tumult of her glorious auburn hair. Her cool green eyes bright with longing, her soft smile trembling with confidences, her pale skin luminous with vitality—Laura beckoned to him with every last particle of her being. She was brilliant, dazzling, as the sun crested her hip, overwhelming his senses.

Blinking hard against the intensity, his reality resolved before him. Laura was gone. Faded like the dream. Her cairn dominated his view, framed perfectly in the open window, the sun climbing steadily from behind it. Once again bereft, a familiar ache rose in his chest—the crushing burden that encumbered his heart in the stark clarity of daylight.

As Bill at last heaved himself from their bed and into the day, he became aware that familiar ache had stretched down the length of his left arm. Almost as though that arm had fallen asleep bearing some precious weight.

[cry-ptidd]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hellsing

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Integra Hellsing/Original Character(s)

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Integra Hellsing, Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, non-sexual nudity, Intimacy, Tenderness, Master/Servant, Maids, Werewolf, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Implied one-sided attraction, Possessive Behavior, mild jealousy, References to Christianity, Pain as a metaphor for. Something, also gloves, like hardcore. She’s an absolute simp, Hard dom/sub undertones, vague references to past trauma (oc), not smut but boy does it feel like it!!!!!, Protectiveness, lesbians in distress

Summary:

The inherent homoeroticism of tending to another woman’s wounds.

[jadeclaymoresworld]

The asshole in me that used to write really sad angsty Carmilla/Hollstein fics has reawoken...

To write a really sad/angsty Tanthamore fic...

[gleeksfreaksandwannabes]

It’s totally normal to tear up over your own writing, right?

Anyway, Steve’s plan has finally come together, and I couldn’t let it go by without a solid dose of angst! Thank you so much for your love on this story, guys, it means so much!

[vakarians-babe]

Chapter 44: Cursed Heart

Tali’s nose does not stop bleeding as the small group of werewolves leads them through a shortcut back to the surface of the ruins. Even as it slows, it still trickles down her face, seeping into the bunched-up fabric of her patka, pulled off and held there in some small effort to stem the flow. Savreen’s pulse runs like a roaring river in her ears, her own blood rushing loud and constant, full of anxiety. She knows worse than a bloody nose will come to Tali if they do not hurry. She knows that she faces the same. It is not a comforting thought. “Return with Zathrian,” Swiftrunner says to Savreen just before they reach the ruins’ entryway. “If you do not, your fate will be what it will be.” She nods, but her mind is not completely there. While Savreen hasn’t felt the curse’s burn in quite the same way since being brought before the Lady, she finds it hard to focus when the shadowy shapes she’d seen earlier seem to be growing less shadowy and more distinct. They appear nearly more real than the stone and earth around her, now. They almost seem to beckon to her. “There will be no second chance, human.” “There will be no need for a second chance.” Ranjit’s voice does a little to cut through the fog in Savreen’s head, but not enough. She nods, still gazing at a huddled figure in a far corner as she speaks, half repeating Swiftrunner’s words, half affirming them, mostly just feeling out the sounds as they leave her mouth.   “We will return with Zathrian.”

Read More.

[appalachianapologies]

Compliment myself?? Hmmm I finished reading the book I’ve been working on for the past four months and I killed it at volleyball tonight ✌🏼😂

Drabbles… do you have any Jack Dalton lives thoughts for me??

oooh what book, if i may ask? 👀 and yo!!! that's so cool! i didn't know that you played volleyball!!! it seems like such an intense sport omg my knees could probably only handle like a minute of it

give yourself a compliment and i'll write u a drabble

Mac’s not sure if he’s actually ready to let Jack out of his sight. 

The sun had gone down hours ago, both of them making excuses to keep themselves up and in each others’ presence. But now that Jack has yawned and set off an infinite cycle of yawning between the two of them, there’s no denying that it’s time for bed. 

“The, uh, guest room’s all set up.” It has been for months. Nobody has stayed over at Mac’s place for a long, long time. “And I was just joking earlier. You can mess with the thermostat if it helps you sleep.”

A small, albeit genuine, smile comes to Jack’s face. Mess with a thermostat that’s been Mac-hacked? Don’t think I’m gonna chance that tonight.”

Mac grins back, but it feels too forced to keep up for more than a second.

Despite all the talk of going to bed, neither of them have moved from the couch, and neither have made any indication to do so within the next few seconds, either. Instead, Mac stays burrowed under his afghan, hip just barely pressed against Jack’s own.

Not only is Mac not ready to let Jack out of his sight, he doesn’t want to lose his touch, either.

The two lapse into silence for a few seconds, before Jack looks up at the TV. The movie had ended just a few minutes ago, but they hadn’t turned the TV off yet. Neither of them were ready for that type of commitment to the night.

“Heard they made a new Futurama while I was downrange.”

Mac nods back.

“You wanna watch it?”

Relief courses through his veins. The night isn’t over yet. “Yeah, why not.”

[smallblueandloud]

note to future self: PLEASE write the soulmate au's laura barton fic, i Need it

[lovecatsys]

urgh can we bring Tom Taylor back :( and Vita Ayala too and also maybe Marjorie Liu.

[enslaughts]

@heartsbreaking. . .          jackie taylor.

❛  you have nothing to be embarrassed about.     nothing.  ❜

“   i’m  not  embarrassed,   ”          the words rip themselves from her tongue unasked,  reflex,  something brittle and sharp tangling in her teeth on its way out.     think of a simpler time  ;  chin - length hair,  first grade,  so,  so many orthodontist visits,  shiney wires and metal in her mouth.    [  she wasn’t able to find her retainer in the wreckage,  not that it matters much,  anymore.  ]     taller,  now,  longer,  shoulder - length hair and a mouthful of straightened pearly whites growing a stale,  faded yellow—   still,  the same thoughtless tongue.     she bites it until it burns with the shame in her cheeks.          “   sorry.   ”          a curl of the lips around something sour,  fingers fidgeting to readjust leonard to a more comfortable position,  legs uncrossed and arms idle at his sides as hers busy themselves.     idle hands are the devil’s workshop.     so he would have them think.

she thinks of her knees,  still itchy and cold from the floorboards,  palms still sweaty from where she had them folded neatly,  knuckle to knuckle,  gaze turned up and wide - eyed past the ceiling.     until one of the girls rolled her eyes hard enough to tip her body right out of bed and over to hers  :          can you please shut the fuck up already ?     some of us are actually trying to sleep when we go to bed.          she’s not embarrassed  ;  was jesus ever embarrassed to pray ?     was jesus ever embarrassed of anything ?     a stiff sort of sigh takes the rod out of laura lee’s back,  curls it to something more yielding,  familiar.     spare the rod,  spoil the child,  was it ?     no,  they don’t need rods out here.    she keeps forgetting.     she wishes she could forget.          “   i didn’t mean—   it just. . .   it keeps me from going—   ”          words escape her,  for a moment,  an unfamiliar,  sorry turn of events.     more and more familiar,  lately.     she feels angry,  suddenly.     again.          “   —CRAZY out here.     you know ?   ”

[dragonologist-phd]

after spending my sick days watching playthroughs of the quarry my main takeaway is that the game should have let Emma and Abi become girlfriends

[allatariel]

Secretary Laura Roslin swept down the buzzing corridors of the battlestar Galactica escorted by Mr. Doral on their way to meet with the commanding officer. As the public relations executive coordinating today’s ceremony, Mr. Doral had been aboard Galactica for weeks in preparation. The Ceremony was to commemorate the opening of the first of its kind living museum, a joint venture between the Colonial fleet and the Colonial government. The Galactica would remain in service as a training ship, under the jurisdiction of the Military Academy of the Colonial fleet, and be open to guided public tours, managed by the Ministry of Education of the Colonial government. As Secretary of Education, Laura already knew all of this, but Mr. Doral droned on either unaware or unbothered by that fact. Laura was used to dealing with men like him, men who underestimated her in every conceivable way.

As they rounded a corner, Laura half caught Mr. Doral suggesting that she advocate for Galactica to have a networked computerized system placed on board. Did he just say what I think he said?

Laura stopped short and turned toward him. “Excuse me,” she began, as he noticed her no longer next to him and hurried back. “Did you just ask me to convince the commanding officer of this battlestar to allow an integrated computer network to be placed on his ship?”

“Ma’am, as you well know, this would make it much easier for the teachers—”

“Mr. Doral, those issues have already been addressed without the need for a computerized network, as I am sure you are aware, having worked closely with Zachary Adama over the last few weeks,” Laura cut him off as politely as possible even as she internally bristled at the sheer audacity of him presuming to enlighten a doctor of education, former teacher, former superintendent of Caprica City schools, and current two term Secretary of Education on the needs of teachers.

He blustered on, as men like him often do, “The inconvenience and cost simply don’t justify it. You have to agree it’s a ridiculously antiquated attitude.”

“No, I don’t. I agree with the director of this project and the CO of this ship.” When Doral appeared ready to continue pushing the issue, Laura held up her hand. “I see this is important to you, Mr. Doral, but the decision has already been made and I won’t reconsider. This museum is supposed to be a living record of the technology and tactics necessary to fight the most devastating enemy humanity has ever faced. An enemy we did not defeat, despite the peace we have enjoyed since the armistice. An enemy who relied on networked computerized systems. The answer is no.” The steel in her voice conveyed the finality of this discussion even as Mr. Doral appeared to grope around for an appropriate way to backpedal. Laura didn’t give him the time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am more than familiar with the location of the CO’s quarters and I’d rather like to greet my husband unaccompanied.”

Mildly gratified by his somewhat chastened expression and the surprise in his eyes at the word ‘husband,’ Laura continued on her way. Mercifully, Doral did not follow. She was practically there already, anyway. Turning down the next corridor, she spied the end of the last short corridor leading down to Bill’s quarters. Her pace increasing subconsciously in her eagerness, Laura came to the top of the stairs and saw Saul stepping out of the hatch. He left it ajar when he turned at the familiar clack of her heels on the stairs.

“Hello, Laura,” he greeted as he leaned in to kiss her cheek like the old friend he was.

“Saul, it’s good to see you,” she replied smoothly, willing herself not to recoil from the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. While she wasn’t opposed to drinking, since the deaths of her father and sisters at the hands of a drunk driver, Laura had no tolerance for careless drunkenness like Saul’s, especially at such an early hour. She’d already dealt with one inebriated Tigh today and her patience was wearing thin. Were it any other day, Laura wouldn't have held back, but she didn’t want to do anything that might mar the ceremony. And reuniting with her husband after three months apart was far more important to her at the moment.

“Bill’s been expecting you—giddy as a cadet all day. I’ll give you kids some privacy,” Saul winked and quipped cheekily in his gruff voice, with surprisingly little slurring, before nodding to her and walking away.

“See you at the ceremony,” Laura said, watching him wobble only once on the short flight of stairs out of the little corridor. She turned back to the hatch and found Bill in his tanks and dress uniform trousers, stocking feet visible just over the rim of the hatchway. He offered her an understanding and slightly apologetic look and she pressed her lips into a rueful smile that conveyed ‘thank you, but it’s not your fault.’

Saul was forgotten as he pulled her to him through the hatch and closed it.

Laura hummed contentedly as he held her to his chest, one of her hands over his heart as she rounded his waist with the other. Eventually she looked up and they gazed into each other’s eyes. Reaching a hand up to his face she confirmed he had freshly shaved, and intimated huskily, “I was hoping to find you like this.” He smiled warmly and slowly brought his lips to hers, kissing her senseless. 

After, when they’d both found a measure of equilibrium together again, Laura kicked her heels off and settled into one of the plush leather chairs adjacent to his rack to watch him put on his dress uniform.

“The gold braid of the Admiral’s piping really suits you, too bad your Dress Grays don’t have it,” she said as she noticed his duty uniform jacket lying on the rack next to him after he picked up the matching trousers.

“No, just the pips. It’s a little garish don’t you think?” She watched him hang up his blues, fingering the gold braid as he hooked the hanger above his rack.

“Not at all, I like you in gold.” She ran her thumb lovingly over her gold wedding band, regarding him intensely as he caught the gesture and smiled fondly, though he didn’t meet her gaze. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage, he still seemed at times to marvel at her honest attraction and regard for him. Bill may not have been the most effusive person, but he loved fiercely and he deserved to know he was loved just as fiercely in return.

[loosesodamarble]

3,7,11 and 19 for the fanfic ask game please ^^

Oh of course I can answer, Laura~!

……….

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

I answered this question here but I'll repeat, your fics have been a big inspiration.

I feel like I should also say that, not quite the fics, but the characterizations that @loafingdragon and @thespiralgrimoire have of the Silvas and other Black Clover characters have somewhat informed the way I characterize characters. Like the Silvas. I like the way Gab has, in a way, reworked the elder Silvas' issues/personalities.

Also, I've been getting into @succulentsunrise's "My Father Told Me" series and the way she writes Nebra in her first chapter! The way her father frames things and she's absorbing it... AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

I know it hasn't really shown in things I've written recently since I focus so much on the Fausts. I guess it does show a little in how I imagine the next gen. Solid becomes decent enough to have a wife and kids. Nebra's future children to turn out as free spirits and chaos sowers rather than conformists. But, like, I do hope I come up with some Silva ideas so I can just... Contribute to the Silva Salvation as it were.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Half and half, I guess. I love oneshots where I can get a fulfulling moment in one read. But ugh, BWHI and Demons Run and My Father Told Me. I like long, connected stories. My only problem is that sometimes I don't retain all the info so some things will be set up to come back and... I forget the set up. 😭

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

My fic titles tend to get to the point of what the fic is about.

Take "What Once Was" for example. It's Nacht remembering moments of his life with Josele, remembering what she was once like before, well you know.

Or my "Sparrow Girl and Swan Boy" series. The Sparrow and Swan are @cringeyvanillamilk's ocs themed after those birds and the various fics center on them.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

Oh yeah, I've edited after posting.

I had to make some edits to "What Once Was" specifically due to a change that I made to Josele's character design. Sometimes it's soon after if I notice something off or forgot a detail. Other times, I'll randomly reread a fic and find a typo I didn't originally see.

I'm not shy about the fact that I'm gonna change things even after I post. Heck, I think one of my fics is basically non-canon because it was written before I completely solidified the nature of Locked Heart and so now it doesn't work with the lore I've decided. It's a small piece thankfully. But yeah.

What's canon or not in my world isn't solely determined by whether or not some content or other is posted. It's determined by what I want.

[ylizam]

no, you’re watching 1981 General Hospital Ice Princess arc videos (Genie Francis was so young! just a bébé! also so good, obvs., like I’m just watching and sometimes I have to pause to reflect on how good she is and how from some angles she looks like her adult self and from others, wow, that’s a teenager), and you’re finding yourself thinking, “well, Luke/Laura/Robert has some potential. by which I mean the three of them should be making out all the time because the chemistry is definitely there and Laura’s hand is on your leg while she’s cuddling with Luke, Robert, just lean into it aren’t you a man of international mystery and spying and whatnot come on.”

[fritenite]

.

[frommybookbook]

Della's neck is bare here but don't worry, Perry's about to give her something to change that!

Or: I finally finished the 5+1 Perry-loves-to-spoil-Della-with-gifts fic!

[fiction-justanotherstateofmind]

Derek is alive.

Sterek is real and canon.

Eli is Stiles and Derek's son.

Boyd and Erica are safe and sound and are a couple.

Sheriff Stilinski's name is John.

Scott is either with Allison / Kira / Isaac or with Allison AND Isaac.

Stydia is just an old nightmare: Stiles and Lydia are best friends and nothing more.

Petopher is also canon.

Laura is dead or alive but either way she's a badass, beautiful woman who calls (/called) Derek Dear-Bear.

Malia is bi and possibly polyamorous.

If Talia Hale is alive and has a job, then she's a lawyer (or similar).

Derek speaks with his eyebrows.

Scott has puppies eyes.

Stiles and Peter get along very well or at least are similar in personality.

Your turn: write your favorite (head)canon fact