#minifics

[themuseoftheviolets]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

pairing: emmary | wc: 996

can be read as a prequel to emmeline after

Come home to me.

Promise me.

Promise me you'll come back.

She wasn't breathing. As far as she could tell, she hadn't breathed in a long time. Hadn't needed to. Never would need to again.

Don't do this to me. 

Please.

I can't take it.

It was difficult to move. There was something heavy all around her, weighing her down, keeping her caged in.

You told me it was over. That you wouldn't do this anymore.

She squeezed her fingers together and found that the sensation was familiar, the feel of it nostalgic. She can't remember much, but she knows this feeling is something she is used to.

You'll die. You know that. You won't get lucky a second time. 

Dirt. She was touching dirt.

It was under her fingernails, inside her mouth, under and over and all around her body.

If she wanted to leave, she'd have to dig her way out.

Do you want to die? 

She doesn't think she did.

Her fingers move, her arms twist and turn until she can wiggle a path upwards. She tries to focus, but her mind is a fractured thing, memories spilling out of the cracks.

⋆

A large room, covered in blood. Or maybe not blood, but something akin to it. It drips down the walls. 

No, no it doesn't. She's just close enough to notice the brushstrokes. 

It is red, but it isn't blood. It's just paint. 

She's staring, she realizes, at the wrong thing. She's meant to be looking at the picture that hangs on the wall, not the wall itself.

But the paint is harsh and thick and peeling, and it doesn't look right. It's too natural. Something that appears to be hand-made rather than the result of magic.

But this is a magical room, right? She can feel the magic around it, so thick she thinks she could touch it.

Focus.

The picture. Yes, the picture. She's looking at it now.

It's a group of people, all huddled together. She can see them but can't quite make out their faces.

They're moving, though. Jumping in the air.

Magic. The walls may not be magic, but this picture is.

A hand touches her shoulder, warm and firm.

They look happy, don't they?

I wonder if we're gonna look like that when we graduate.

Somehow, she knows they didn't.

⋆

Time passes, or at least she thinks it does.

She can't tell, she just moves.

The ground is solid and unmoving, until it isn't, and she feels a cold wind hit her arm as it finally breaks out.

She keeps on crawling, punching her way to the surface. It should hurt, she thinks, but it doesn't.

You never think things through.

You just start fights like you can win them all.

You can't.

Eventually, she kicks around enough dirt that she can crawl out of the ground, pushing herself up until it releases her.

It's dark, and there's dirt in her eyes, but that's fine. She doesn't need to see, she knows the path before her like the back of her hand.

As she straightens herself she notices a piece of flesh hanging loose in the side of her waist. She picks it up and rips it off her body, and throws it on the ground.

She hardly feels it.

⋆

A small room, just barely big enough for a double bed. A girl, laying down next to her, crying.

It's an awful sound, quiet but excruciating. She doesn't like it, doesn't want the girl to cry anymore.

This is not fair, it's not fucking fair.

Outside, the city is quiet. Eerie, almost. She's never known this part of town to be quiet, why is it quiet?

Because everyone's dead.

No, not everyone. There's still some of them left. They're still here, after all, aren't they?

She places her hand over her own heart, feels it beating. Then she takes her other hand and places it on the other girl. They're alive.

I don't feel alive.

We're alive.

We'll be dead before we know it.

⋆

The tree is the center of it all. Everything that grows in this place, grows around it. That's what the girl had said, when they first came here.

You're everything I have.

She touches its bark, and she can feel it. The years spent here, the memories made. She rests her forehead against it and knows she is not far from home.

This is our life. It's not just yours.

She follows the invisible footsteps they have left behind; hers bigger and spread apart, the girl's smaller and closer together.

The girl, the girl, the girl.

She had a name, a beautiful name. A face she loved to look at, arms she found comfort in.

The girl, the life, the promise.

Are you really going to walk away?

No, she thinks. I won't walk away, I'll walk back.

⋆

There's a letter on the table. It smells of death.

It is death. It'll kill you.

I won't let it.

You say that like it's a choice. 

I survived one war. I can survive another.

No.

Yes. I have to.

Why?

I just do.

⋆

She follows the pathway til the end of the park, turns right and keeps on walking.

Her body, if it can still be called that, is falling to pieces and leaving a trail behind, but it is functional enough to carry her.

Two turns to the right, one to the left. Walk two blocks, turn right one more time, and there she is.

Come home.

Here she is.

The door is red, red like the paint, red like the blood. She knocks on it, and the force of the knock causes one of her fingers to fall off, but she doesn't care. It doesn't matter.

All that matters is that the door opens, and the girl appears behind it.

Come home to me.

Mary stares at her, mouth agape.

Emmeline smiles.

“I came home."

[popcornforone]

Fan Fic based on Oberyn Martell

Hands Carved By The Sun

I only intended to write about Dave for the time being but after a conversation with a friends started talking about what Oberyn would do & having so many notes, I kind of had to. So to our princess of Dorne this is so for you & I hope you adore it.

Synopsis: Oberyn has returned to Dorne after a long trip away, & his first port of call is to visit you, before the glorious sun rise.

Warnings: DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PleaseNO MINORS! Unprotected sex(please be sensible in real life) piv sex, tying up, teasing, pining, tasting, biting, sucking,nipping. A detailed description of both your body’s while having sex with each other.

All feedback is welcome peoples, enjoy, especially you!

Being A Dornish Prince comes with so many extra pleasures, enjoyments & experiences that life brings to no one else. Oberyn was so aware of this. A life enjoyed to the max, desires always fulfilled, & an insatiable appetite for the world & its people. However it was always coming home to you after experiencing the delights on offer, that always made him needy.

He is home & in your chamber before you have stired , after his long journey back to Dorne. The sun is cresting over the horizon as he sits on the end of your bed. His yellow cloak already disregarded, bare chested & leaning in towards you to smell you as you sleep. He knows your curves so well & just your hums as you sleep arouse him. He wants to touch you & give you a blessed awakening but he’d like to see your eyes glisten back at him, with the knowledge that he is safe & has returned to you.

Your night dress is sheer & golden like all things in Dorne, & as you twist back round in your sleep you hear this noise & start to wake up. The noise is his breathing, the smell is his spice. He’s home & you know you are about to experience every pleasure known in this world. You slowly flicker your eyes open, adjusting to the hazed light & the outline of the man who plunders you for all the desire he could ever need. A small stretch & a yawn from you is greeted by the words “morning beautiful” from the base of your feet, which now you are coming to, he starts to stroke. Hands carved from the sun itself that ignite your skin with every touch. “My Prince” you sigh feeling goosebumps prick across your entire body.

You sit up as your gown exposes more of your body. It may be sheer & he may have seen your display countless times before but it still makes him hard & wanting of your embrace. His woven linen trousers never hide this. As you reach him one of his hand leaves your ankle & cups your chin. Your eyes still in a state of rest are drawn to his mouth. Lips that have kissed 99 other Dornish women but right now he only wants to explore yours, the ones so plump & eager to be a conquest . It’s sensitive to start, how his tongue brushes along your teeth before you allow it to go further, dancing with your own. Oberyns hand has left your face & trialed down your spine as you finally became fully awake from your slumber, his touch is something worth waking up for, & he reached the dimple at the base. He smirks turning you around, planting a small kiss in the Center of it above the sheer material. You hum and the feel of his lips on you & you know you will be experiencing pleasure like no other soon, by the simple idea that your lover is going to be infatuated by you.

“Oberyn” you moan, & his large hands loop around your waist & slowly go up underneath your gown. Hand built like they are made for your breasts alone. “Ooooh to be home & have the pleasure of you” he whispers into your ear & takes your hand so you palm him. Both your hips start moving as he squeezes your nipples, your arousal growing. His hands find the bottom of your gown & pull it over your head & he pulls you back fully into his lap, feeling his erection ever hardening. He nipps at your neck & slowly trails his hand down your body towards your sex.As you repeat his name you Imagine his tash tickling you as he explores all of you, peppering kisses in places only a prince could touch. Oberyn was never a jealous lover & was always so eager to engage in your fantasy’s, while he had some of his own that he knew your body would respond to, he knew that yours would also just be as feverish & make him want to pleasure you for hours on end, going further than his stamina could take him

He slides you back into the bed, facing up towards him as his hands linger across your tummy, ticking, smoothing & caressing. He’s taken that scarf which was his, that you tie to your bed when he’s not here so you can touch yourself with it. His smell is still intoxicating & helping you cum when he’s travelling to a distant land. Taking your wrist in it he wraps the scarf to the head board ready for you to cry his name out. “Are you ready for the passion, my love?” As he swipes two fingers across your folds. They glisten as he brings them to his lips to taste “I’m always ready Oberyn” & you hips are already moving. He kneels as he pulls down his lining trousers, & no matter how many times you’ve seen it you gasp. A penis that has for-filled so many wishes & pleasures & fantasys, & now once again it’s back to explore you. One hand lazily pumps his shaft, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moans your name . The other is gliding up & down your thigh, before it eventually returns to your sex. “Don’t stop you”moan. his hands caressing every inch of your pleasure, making you roll towards him ready to to ravaged by a famished man.

“Oberyn please” you echo as his hips lower til they are flush against yours, he climbs up towards your face & takes joy in your gasps & the blissed out look on your face “my love this is all I’ve ever wanted” & he notches himself against your entrance, as your legs spread. A feeling like nothing else in the world. he’s going to take a trip between your thighs that respond so well to every inch of him & he slowly edges himself inside you. “Yesssss my Prince” you cry. The drag is phenomenal & you clamp at just the tip of him inside you. “It’s been forever & also no time at all” he sighs his breathing is already hitched & he’s not started moving yet. As he glides further inside, he grasps your hips & pulls you down under him further. You groan, & shut your eyes, hands grasping at the scarfs material, desperate to touch the body that belongs to a god. You want to trace across every line, touch every hair, peck every inch of him & be the woman he always has to come home to.

“Exquisite” he moans before he burys his head in your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth & starts to suck. He starts to thrust going ever deeper inside you, you didn’t know you could accommodate so much of his length as he pulses inside you. His other hand cups your other breast, teasing it, making it erect. The noise he is making as he licks, makes you want to moan & groan for eternity, in the Dornish sun. Everything the sun rise touches he wishes to explore. Eventually he stops sucking & a small trail of saliva is still connected between his lips & your chest. “Breasts the world should be jealous of” he looks you dead in the eye & smirks before sliding back down your body as both your hips still roll in time, a rhythm so perfect. You’re both panting & singing louder than the early morning bird song chorus going on outside.

“My sunshine, my girl, my everything” he moans, grasping your hips & thrusting away. His body has raised so he can look at every inch of you while your eyes are shut & you are responding to the rolling. Your hands & wrist tied, trying not to react but it’s stretch to your body making every move he makes so much more pleasurable. He knows despite your eyes being closed that they are dancing, the blissed out look on your face & the ooooh yes coos coming from you small rounded mouth tell him that. A mouth explored to the point where thinking about it makes him lick his lips. A neck line that screams kiss me. Breasts the are there to be fondled. A belly thats rolling. Hips that if they enchanted anymore in this seductive dance he thinks they could pop. But none of that compares to your sex. As he rocks his own hips to feel himself drag against your walls, he can’t help but look down at your mound. Puckering & easily accepting each thrust, clamping around him making him moan, desire oozing each time he hits that spot & you cry “yes Oberyn my love”. He is in love with you being so high on him & it’s a high he would never let you to come down from. His hands smothering away at your body.

You open your eyes as you feel your climax approaching. He is smouldering looking down at you. The way the sun hits him as he thrusts into you makes him look like more of a god than normal. His chest glistening in sweat, his hips are hypnotic, & you feel like nothing is going to ever beat this early morning wake up. Abbs & muscles stretched & taught with every movement. Everything in perfect proportion of the fine specimen. Your in awe of this man, & his body which is from the gods. The way every inch of him rolls, grinding & pounding into you making you feel full. His length reaching the spot, dragging you into a spiral of desire, feeling every pull, wanting every motion to last longer, & wanting him to paint your walls until the day the sun fails to rise.

“Oberyn…” you mutter, which is hardly audible. He raises an eyebrow “please don’t spill a drop, spoil me…” & your scream, as the palace bells ring. Euphoria takes over as you drench his penis, making him jolt, knowing his own orgasm will follow soon. Your hands let go of the scarf in ecstasy as your whole body collapses in on itself from the feeling of letting go. Months of built up sexual frustration, now finally free. Your prince has taken you beyond that place & with his hands, which sculpt you & penis that delights, he’s made you see more that just the Dornish gold. “Ooooh my love…” Oberyn starts be he stutters before he leans back over your body to take your lips in his. You bite his bottom lip before allowing him to explore which causes his thrusts to bolt, before he almost stops breathing. A few movements & a deep groan later, he is coating your walls. He fills you up, & you work through your highs as the two of you plunder each others mouths, every pleasurable moment either of you could have, is happening right now in your chamber.

When he is done & comes apart from the embrace his hand trails down your face, before he unties you. Your hands go straight for his broad shoulders, massaging them making him sigh. “Morning my Prince” you say as he lifts you up & pulls you back into his lap, as he’s still inside you. Your both stay wrapped in each other in a warm embrace, sweaty & exhausted from a seductive session of passion. Your hands in the back of his hair, think & glossy, but always such a delight to explore. His hand once again trails down your spine before he slaps your arse, making you jolt & him throb once more. “Coming home to your is always a pleasure” he whispers as he looks out of your chamber window, the sun rise now complete, gloriously shinning to welcome the people of Dorne to a new day. His thumb trails across your lips as his other hand continues to squeeze your arse. “I am one of life’s adventures & pleasure” you reply “that you are, & these hands can’t wait to continue to explore them” & his hips once again rock into you, so that he becomes fully erect once more “Oberyn” you moan. He does not leave you or your chamber until the next glorious Dornish sunrise, as he remembers that you are his home & are always so welcoming.

[cyclone-rachel]

oh my god, clark reacting to brainy post-season 2 going through his Emo Phase (tm)

Clark wanted the best for Brainy.

No matter what happened- and certainly a lot had, the last time they’d seen each other- he hoped Brainy would be okay. When he finally went back to the 21st century, he wanted all the pep talks and reassurances he’d given him, every affectionate gesture, every kindness in general- to be enough.

He pictured Brainy having the entire Legion at his back in support, as he gave speeches in front of the planets Brainiac 1 had threatened, and even temporarily digitized, promising that he’d make up for all the wrongs his ancestor had done. That he’d started his journey to becoming a superhero to do just that, redefine his family name and renounce its association with evil, and this only gave him more incentive for such a task. That he was sorry, and hoped people would be able to forgive him, just as the Legion had.

(just as Clark had, many times over)

And he hoped Brainy would be successful. By the time Clark returned, already thinking of all the things he’d tell Brainy about that happened in his time, he imagined Brainy would be back with the Legion, wearing his ring again, maybe with some kind of technological assistance to give him the powers he lacked without his robotic form.

But here he was instead, in basically the exact opposite scenario he’d predicted. Hair grown out over the symbol that marked his face, wearing a nondescript dark outfit, Legion ring and belt nowhere to be seen, living on some planet that he’d only heard about from Saturn Girl when she’d admitted to tracking his location.

“Querl.” He said softly, once Brainy had finally opened the door.

(he’d learned Brainy’s real name, too- that was another change, something he’d decided upon when he claimed he was no longer calling himself “Brainiac 5”)

“Are you okay?” he asked, when Brainy didn’t answer. “Do you want-“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Brainy practically flew into his arms, embracing him… but as he held Brainy, he figured this was the answer to what he wanted anyway- and something Clark would happily give him, for as long as he needed.

[bakuliwrites]

Inbox Open for Requests!

Currently working on an Arcana headcanon from my inbox :) I am currently taking requests for the following fandoms:

The Arcana

Jujutsu Kaisen

Baldur's Gate 3

Requests can be headcanons or mini-fics! Just make sure to specify when you ask :) And keep it relatively SFW only please!

[verfound]

MINIFIC: October 2022: 27: Witches(MLB/Lukanette)

Read on Ao3

As a pizza delivery boy (and an aspiring musician from a musical family), Luka was accustomed to late nights and later mornings.  There had been more than one morning class he had snoozed through after getting home from work late and staying up later to compose.

Bakeries worked on different hours.  The Dupain-Chengs were Morning People.  Most of his shifts were after school, true, but the weekends still found him waking up earlier than he ever had before in an effort to make a good impression on his future fath…new boss.

Old habits were hard to break, though.

So when he stayed up maybe a bit later than he should have Friday night and shambled out of his cabin bright and early Saturday morning, half-awake and jonesing for a mug of coffee before he rode over to the boulangerie, it was easy enough to get…confused.

Especially when the source of his confusion was the three witches standing behind the galley, decked out in black dresses and pointy hats and giggling – cackling – over…when did Juleka get a cauldron?

“Your girlfriend brought it, dumbass,” the witch that looked suspiciously like his sister said.  “For the ambience.”

“We’re conjuring!” the short witch that was bouncing like Rose giggled.

“…Papa got the cauldron for Halloween,” the prettiest of the witches said, rolling her eyes.  “He wants me to dress up and make caramel apples for the customers.  We’re testing it out.”

“We’re brewing a potion to make you less stupid,” the tallest witch said.  She dipped a finger in the cauldron to taste the caramel, narrowing her eyes at the way he was still smiling at the pretty witch.  “Sadly, I don’t think it’s going to work.”

[peppermintquartz]

"Didja hear? World ended last night."

"Oh? We're still around though. Can't be end of the world then."

"Whatever it was took out the internet completely."

"Guess we can't watch YouTube videos today."

"Nope."

"And banking's down too."

"Heard there was a riot at that bank branch at the market. No one can get their money, and most people don't even know how much they have in their accounts. Can't access anything."

"Huh. Well, that's that then. I'm gonna feed the chickens and head into the garden. You mind doing the dishes?"

[skyland2703]

Minific about Javi and Amelia doing some cute adhd/autistic things please?

“We’re supposed to be working” Amelia said, watching Javi trying to balance a ball point pen on his upper lips, and eyeing it, waiting for it to fall off, “And we’ve been sitting idly for the past one hour”

Hearing the words, Javi looked up at her, and the balance tilted, and the pen fell, when Javi leaned forward and caught it mid air with his teeth, now squiggling it around from right to left using his tongue, and moving it in the opposite direction. 

“Comparisons between the James Webb and Hubble telescopes. This is something we should get Ollie’s opinion on” Javi laughed, spitting the pen out, and wiping the saliva on it, on the inside of his shirt. 

Amelia rolled her eyes, “But he’s not Buzzblast, plus asking for his help for a Buzzblast article? That’s gonna be a fiasco any way. Remember that thing with the thunderstorm and jellybeans?” 

“Oh don’t remind me” Javi laughed, leaning back in his seat, and then spinning it around once, while Amelia pulled out another pen from the stand, this time a click one, and started to dismantle it for parts, pulling out the back cover, followed by the refill, and a small spring slid out, and she stared at it for a really long time, and that was when it caught Javi’s eye, and he stopped his spinning, and stared at the spring. Both of them looked at the little contraption, and then at each other, and then, as if on cue, pouncing on it together, swatting hands away like cats, fingers curled into paws, to keep the other one off the spring and get it themselves. 

One of their hands struck the spring and it bounced off, and ping ponged against the printer, went up in the air, and, to both Javi and Amelia’s disappointment, down into the shadows of the underside of the desk. 

“Nuuuuu” Amelia groaned, “we’ll never put this pen back together if we don’t find the spring”

“We gotta find that spring; bet I can do it first” he winked, challenging her, and she laughed, “as if I’d let you” and on cue, the two of them dipped down to the underside of the desk, and both of them crawling in the darkness, looking for the little spring, onle sounds of laughter echoing.

[kalira]

So I recently tripped back into the Naruto fandom and reread "Inexorable Sea Meets Unquenchable Flame" because I love every piece of it and I'm amazed at all the love and tidbits and facets that go into each of your collections (SSS+Coil & Croon are next on the list)

So many of my favorite things end up cropping up and your contain so much care into so few words it delights me endlessly. It's the intricate rituals and the clan courting traditions and the family shenanigans and the softness for kids and SUMMONS! LOVE THOSE LITTLE NUGGETS! The Aus and the What-Ifs and. Just. Thank you so much! Keep being amazing!

(I've literally always Specifically gone back to re read the Price of Peace segment AT LEAST half a dozen times over the years because hot damn is it funny and also the concept of celebratory Katon jutsus fascinates me)

Aww, thank you so much! X3

I originally started posting the minific collections both to corral some of my Three Sentence Ficathon pieces and then also . . . to put things that I liked but were not working out into longer pieces (or not smething I wanted to try and work out into a longer piece) and honestly the project of minifics kind of took on a life beyond my expectations there.

It's a lot of fun to play with (and to work on, for days when I'm low energy or similar, and throw something small up) and I've been really surprised and delighted how many people tell me they enjoy the little bites. ^.^ ♡

(I have to be honest; Price of Peace is one that I do actually want to write a longer piece from. . . There's some of those kicking around in the minific collections as well. >.>)

Thank you again! ♡ ~Kalira

[themuseoftheviolets]

missing pieces

for @sapphicmicrofics august 18th prompt: missing

pairing: vanceity (emmeline/emma) + past emmary and emjily

word count: 645

part ii: last ones standing

There are pieces missing from her heart. Emma has felt their absence everyday for the past fourteen years, holes in the shapes of two bodies that once fit perfectly against her own.

She keeps James and Lily in her memory, the only place where they're still alive. She rejoins the war in their name, fights in an effort to protect their son. A boy she never knew, a boy who could have been her son, too — should have been her son. She doesn't really have anyone left. The people she loved are either dead or she has burned those bridges beyond repair long ago, so it's not really a surprise that she attaches herself to Emmeline in the first meeting of the new Order of The Phoenix. They had known each other once, gone on a couple of missions together. They hadn't been close by any means, but Emmeline was a familiar face in need of someone to come home to at night, and it had been so long since Emma had mattered to anyone, that when Emmeline approached her Emma made space for her in her heart, in her bed. She didn't fit like James and Lily did, but she was a warm body next to hers, and that's all they can hope to have, these days, when the war could take them away at any minute, without warning or apologies, when their hearts already belong to other people that they can never have back. A warm body, and some comfort on difficult nights, is all the luxury they can afford. ⋆ Emmeline has a lot of guilt in her heart, too much of it. She agonizes over her decision every second of everyday, thinking about Mary and how she's doing back home. She hasn't sent her a letter. The last time they had spoken to each other had been an argument, a breakup that neither of them had wanted but one that had been inevitable, and Mary had made it very clear that if Emmeline walked out the door to join another war that it would be the last she saw of Mary. Emmeline understood, even if it broke her heart, and she respected Mary's wishes. It was hard, to love someone when they were risking their life everyday. It was better to let go. Still, Emmeline couldn't bear to go through it alone. She hadn't meant to start anything with Emma. She had just wanted someone to talk to, a friend, someone she could trust. Emma was a familiar face, two years ahead of her at Hogwarts, someone she had fought with in the first war. At first they only offered each other a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a couch to crash on. Emmeline hadn't meant for it to become more, but they were both lonely, both mourning past relationships. Emma told her about James and Lily, in the dark of her bedroom, and Emmeline talked to her about Mary. Months passed by like this, with Emmeline making something of a home in Emma's flat, with nights spent smoking on her windowsill, the moonlight showing little of their naked bodies, and mornings spent avoiding each other's eye in the light. Emmeline still felt guilty for leaving, even more so now that she had gotten herself into some sort of relationship with another woman. It felt like cheating on Mary, even though they weren't together anymore. But when she met the tip of a wand in a safe house, when she took her last breath, she found herself glad for the company. Emma wasn't the love of her life, and Emmeline wasn't the love of hers, but there had been love there, somewhere, for a time, amongst the old wounds and missing pieces. And that's all they could have hoped for, really. A little love to carry into their graves.

[popcornforone]

Lemon Lullabies

A Soft Frankie Catfish Morales Fic

I have wanted to write for Frankie for a little while. & then inspiration struck & I have had a bit of an emotional time writing this. I don’t like hyping my own writing but I adore this & it almost broke me. Yea it’s been a hard tough week, & this is the outcome

Word Count 1.6k

Synopsis: Frankie volunteers to look after the baby one night for the feed when your in a mood with him. This night end up healing the gap between you.

Warnings: this is all fluff, but I do advise not to read if you are a minor. It’s Frankie so drugs & alcohol & ptsd are mentioned. It’s just generally soft & a little heart breaking. Pining arguments & upset, feeling alone & worried.

Thank you for the read. All feedback is welcome peoples.

3am is when he is startled, the monitor echoing a small cry’s coming from the nursery. His little girl, all in lemon tonight, obviously needs feeding or changing or both. He is a light sleeper if he ever sleep. PTSD & all the years of drug abuse to try & cope are what means he doesn’t sleep well at all.

He’s just broken his promise to you, one more mission, for Pope & the boys. It’s the last one & you screamed at him when he told you. It’s been 3 days since he told you. You want to get over it, but you know this just means he will be flying without a licences & could lose his wings forever, it’s bad enough he’s just being investigated at the moment. His charm can only get him so far even with you. You’ve been civil to him but he can still tell your upset at him. Despite dreading him leaving, you actually want him to go, so then you can forgive him when he comes triumphantly home & help make a sibling with you for your little girl.

Frankie sees you move as the noises reaches your ear. He shhhhs you & whispers “I’m already awake baby I’ll do it, go back to your pleasant dreams•” a small kiss he plants on your shoulder & he gets up & tentatively leaves the room & heads to the nursery. There she is whining, you little lemon angle in her yellow baby grow. He turns on the light & picks her up rocking her gently. “Shhhh my love, daddy is here, I’m here” he sniffs his daughter & she’s not used her nappy, nothing is wet or heavy so she’s hungry. He warms the milk for her while he rocks her but he turns off the baby monitor, you hear the click in your room so you completely fall back into your slumber.

He tests the warmth of the milk & sits in the rocker watching his princess suck on the bottle, eyes now wide & huge much like Frankie’s looking back at him. He knew the second he held her he would do anything in the world to provide for her, this job should set you all up for life. He hummus to her & keeps his eyes on his most precious cargo he will ever have to look after. He rubs her back as he rocks once she’s drank the bottle dry, her little burps & gargles are music to his ear. Such beautiful noises. They warm his heart. He’s going to miss these noises in the few days he’s away but it will be worth it.

“There you go my beautiful” he says as he wraps her up back in the crib, “I love you my little lady more than you will ever know” he coos & she nuzzles into sleep. Frankie watches her & then slides in the little catfish toy he got her so she would always have something like daddy, the whiskers are made for teething eventually. He waits a few more minutes before leaving while turning the baby monitor back on. Slowly dimming the lights & creeping back out of her room into your bedroom. You’re completely asleep with no idea Frankie is back in bed, but he watches how you hold the pillow, it’s the exact same way your daughter gripped onto the toy. She’s gets that from her mummy. He’s always been in love with you & looking at you being peaceful in a world of dreams just confirms it.

He said he’d be 5 days on this trip, it’s now day 7. No text or email or call since he said he’s arrived, what had gone wrong, what was happening. You’re in the kitchen when your iPad pings. You leave your baby in her bouncer & lean over it. It’s a voice note from Frankie which is a delayed delivery from 10 days ago. Your heart stops. What has he sent you. You click play & hear his voice which says the following very calmly.

Hey ladybug (his pet name for you as he first saw you in a red & black spotty dress). I know you are upset with me for leaving in a few days time & I would be lying to say I’m petrified, but it’s not of the job, it’s because you & our little lemon here (clearly recorded on the night he went to feed her & let you sleep) won’t be within touching distance. You’re both the reason I’m sober, & happy, & feeling mentally good. Isn’t that right my Princess? (you can here her sucking on the bottle in the back ground) so I’m recording this now to send you when I’m on my way home, but I also want to send you something else. I love you both so much, ooh hang on I need to… & the voice note ends.

Frankie is on his way home. You sigh & look at your girl who’s oblivious to the world. “Daddys coming home, he will be here soon ekk” but then your iPad pings again. Another voice note message, delayed delivery again, titled things haven’t works out. You almost drop your iPad in panic. You click on the icon & it has a written message before it.

*Lady Bug if you get this I’ve not had signal in days & it’s likely something’s gone wrong, I hope it hasn’t but this is something for our little princess to hear as she gets older if I can’t look after her anymore*

Tears fill your eyes, there’s a huge possibility that Frankie is captured, hurt or… but no you dare not think about the worse option. You open the attachment called Lemons Lullaby by Daddy Catfish. You take a deep breath & hit play. It’s Frankie singing as he rocks & burps your little girl.

🎶Sweet baby Lemon don’t you cry

Catfishes fly high up in the sky

Sprinkling star dusts for you to keep

I’m going to sooth you right to sleep

You’re loved you’re adored & so much more

Even if mummy hates to hear you snore

My lady bug my dream

& every bit of a mummy she could be

I love her so I will not lie

I always hate having to say goodbye

So she will look after you & keep you close

You’re my clan my family who I truly love the most🎶

Frankie then sighs

I’m sorry I broke my promise, you’re the best wife, I don’t deserve you & I love you.

& the recording ends

You’re crying in the kitchen. You hit repeat & repeat & repeat. Hearing Frankie sing a made up lullaby for his little girl & you, has broken your heart. Your daughter even can recognise daddy tone & starts to babble. You save & email it to multiple email addresses & links & download it. You don’t ever not want to hear that lullaby, the idea of losing it hurts. Then it hits you that Frankie has only sent delayed messages that he recorded that night. He may not be coming home at all. It could be you & your lemon without a Frankie to help you. As much as he breaks his promises & drives you insane, he’s still your husband & you adore him. You stand there leaning on the kitchen counter crying for the rest of the afternoon not moving at all.

3am the baby monitor goes off & you in an exhausted emotional state go to your little girl. You’ve put her back in the lemon tonight, as your own comfort. You breast feed her & then start to rock her in the chair. You start to hum the rhythm of Frankie’s lullaby to her, soothing her. As she burps & your whisper good girl good girl to her, the words “Youre my clan my family, who I truly love the most” are said out loud. You turn your head & see Frankie standing in the door way.

A single tear falls down your face & a soft smile crosses your lips. His eyes are huge, his hair a mess from being under that hat, he’s even had a shave. But he’s still your Frankie. You wrap your daughter up in bed & Frankie leans in to stroke her face & hands her the catfish. Your hands brush against each other as they leave the crib & your eyes meet “I’m sorry” Frankie says & he pulls you close into him. “I’m never leaving you again, you are my home” you snuggle into his chest as you cry into him, feeling safe in his large arms. “I’m sorry to Frankie, I shouldn’t have let you leave when I was angry at you, I’m never going to be angry at you again my Catfish” Frankie lifts your chin “my lady bug you are my world” & he lowers his head to yours & kisses you delicately. Sweet & soft most unlike Frankie usually. You both look at your little lemon once more & head to your bedroom. Frankie gets in wearing his boxers & just keeps you close in an embrace. “I will explain everything in the morning properly, I’m sure you will understand baby” “you are here Frankie, that’s all that matters, promise me you’re here & we’re safe, that’s all I ever want my love” you yawn & fall asleep in his arms. “I’m never going anywhere” & then he sings “I always hate having to say goodbye” & he falls into blissful sleep, safe at home with his family.

[cyclone-rachel]

Alex is alone.

Of course, in the middle of the day the DEO is not empty. There are still agents present, walking through the command center, busy doing research, etcetera.

But none of them are close to Director Danvers, Querl notes as he walks in, toward her. Nobody seems to notice her, standing with her arms resting on the table, her hands fidgeting with something. Nobody sees the look in her eyes, no doubt remembering a time when other people she trusted stood around the table with her.

Querl has studied the records- he knows who else has been here. The former director, J’onn- who she seemed to consider a second father. Her own father, Jeremiah, before she knew who he was truly working alongside. Winn, for a time. Others have come in and out, like her ex-girlfriend Maggie, and even Mon-El and Imra, along with himself before he knew his stay in this century was indefinite. She misses all of them, he’s sure.

But he knows there is one she’s specifically thinking of. One she was supposed to protect, who became her strongest ally when she learned of the organization’s existence. One who she would literally not be here without.

One who, now, has been forced out, though not by any fault of her own.

(“From now on, the DEO will require full transparency from all of its assets”, Haley had said. How much longer until his own identity was under scrutiny as well?)

That, however, was a lower priority. And he would, theoretically, have time to plan for a way around it.

This… he hadn’t calculated. Even when Lockwood was shouting at her, he hadn’t considered it would lead to the President arriving at the DEO, asking that Kara reveal her secret.

And yet that was exactly what had happened.

He didn’t blame Kara for her decision, and he expected Alex didn’t either. It still hurt, however.

So it was with that in mind, that Querl approaches her, and as much as he could say in that moment, nothing seems adequate for the situation.

Instead, he simply places a hand on her shoulder, and she looks at it briefly before gently patting his hand, and letting out a sigh.

“Thanks.” She says.

“Of course.” He answers. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She tells him. “I tried to prevent it…”

“I know. But…”

Alex lets out a sigh again.

“You probably saw this whole thing coming, didn’t you?”

Her tone is more accusatory, and takes him back- mentally, at least- to a time when she would have never let him put his hand on her shoulder, or get as close to her in any way as they are right now.

“No, actually.” He says. “Not these specific circumstances.”

Alex nods.

“So I guess you don’t know what we should do next.”

“No, that much is clear.” He says. “We keep helping Supergirl, as much as we can. Like you always have.”

She smiles, just a little bit, when she finally turns to look at him.

“Like we have.” She corrects. “That, I can agree with.”

He smiles back, just as briefly, before continuing.

“What is she doing now?”

“She said she was going on vacation, visiting her cousin and Lois Lane on their family farm for the holidays.” Alex answers. “I certainly don’t blame her. If it was me… well, I’d certainly want to take a vacation too, but I don’t think I could have shown that much restraint.”

Restraint is practically second nature for me, he thinks, the inhibitors holding back how strongly he feels about their current predicament, but considers that such a statement would sound like bragging, so he avoids it.

(He also avoids any comments about hopefully getting to meet Superman and his soon-to-be wife, because those would definitely be insensitive in this circumstance.)

“Me neither.” He says, attempting to reassure her. “Then I suppose we should plan for what may happen when she returns- Agent Liberty getting out of prison, if the protesters on television have their way, or any number of new rules Haley could impose on the DEO.”

“Yeah.” Alex answers. “Somewhere other than here, though.”

“In private. Indeed- lead on, Director.”

She looks more confident now, as she begins to stride away, and in what is becoming a habit for them now, he follows soon behind.

“Certainly, Agent Dox.”

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[verfound]

MINIFIC: October 2022: 04: Walks in the Forest (MLB/Lukanette)

Read on Ao3

“It was nice of you to come along,” Marinette said, turning her head to look at the flowers lining the path.  The class had taken a field trip to a local garden to study the blooms before the season truly turned.  It had been a lovely day so far, made all the better f or their unexpected chap…guest.

Technically, Luka was still a few months too young to actually be a chaperone.

“I don’t think Jules would agree with you,” he chuckled, glancing over to where Rose was hauling his sister along behind her, “but when Ma had to back out…well.  I like nature walks.”

“This hardly counts,” she laughed.  “We’re in a city botanical center, not hiking in the woods.”

He reached up to tuck some loose hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her temple and lingering.  His smile softened, and her heart fluttered in her chest at that look.

“Still nice,” he said, slowly bringing his hand back to stuff into his pocket.  His grin turned mischievous.  He leaned in and winked at her.  “Still better than Belcourt’s eight AM Theory class.”