#it's just a ficlet but at least it's finished

[carry-the-sky]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by my one and only brainpipe bestie @ninzied ♡

How many works do you have on ao3?

43!

What's your total ao3 word count?

163,202

What fandoms do you write for?

mostly good omens at the moment, but i am also tinkering with an old kanthony fic. i have so. many. hellcheer wips collecting dust in my google drive. and of course kastle my og, my beloved.

Top five fics by kudos:

say my name (and every color illuminates) - kanthony

the wonderful part of the mess that we made - stranger things trio

warm, solid things - hellcheer

every bit of beating heart - kastle

my head is filled with ruins (most of them, i built with you) - kastle

Do you respond to comments?

always! if i don't, i probably didn't see it.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely any of my older kastle fics 🙈

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably the one lucky dog series? i based the proposal scene (spoilers for a fic that's five years old lol) off of my own, which made me happy, at least!!

Do you get hate on fics?

thankfully no!

Do you write smut?

i have, but it's a struggle. the stage management of it all!! it's definitely something i'd like to work on and improve though

Craziest crossover:

probably my good place au. i was hmm shall we say overly ambitious with that idea, but it was a fun covid project!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i haven't!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

in theory i would love to, in practice i think it would stress me out immenselyyyyy

All time favorite ship?

i like nina's answer for this one. i love and appreciate them all for different reasons!! kastle will stick with me forever obviously. truly the fandom to rule them all. ♡

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the hellcheer detention fic i started for @majicmarker under threat of being pushed into a pool if i didn't finish, oop. wrote about 5k and just lost the plot completely. tale as old as tiiiime

What are your writing strengths?

capturing a vibe. dialogue. exploring smaller moments.

What are your writing weaknesses?

plotting?? i don't know her. also finishing chaptered fics. i probably overuse semicolons and em dashes.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i've done this before with very simple words/phrases. anything more in depth should probably be looked over by someone who speaks the language?

First fandom you wrote in?

kastle!!

Favorite fic you've written?

probably warm, solid things. it's the longest one-shot i've ever posted, and it's personal to me in many ways. i'm happy it seemed to resonate with people!

honorable mention to my most recent good omens fic, which took years off my life to write, but i'm quite proud of the end result; also this kastle ficlet which sort of just fell out of my brain fully-written?? what sorcery????

tagging! (no pressure!): @majicmarker, @redbelles, @heartonfirewrites, @imashybear, @evilbunnyking

@onebatch2batch, @ejunkiet, @malachitegrey, @andromeda4004 and anyone else who sees this and wants to play :)

#tag game

[moonday-girl]

Just trying to go back to writing fanfiction again with a new kind of obsession. Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: In The Heights (2021), In the Heights - Miranda/Hudes Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carla/Daniela (In the Heights) Characters: Carla (In the Heights), Daniela (In the Heights), The man dancing with Daniela during Carnaval del Barrio Additional Tags: Jealousy, Happy Ending, Ficlet Summary:

The voice of Daniela was loud and spreading throughout the inner courtyard, as she was singing proudly. Singing. And Dancing. And she was not alone. And the last point bothered Carla. —

#daniela x carla #carla x daniela #carla x daniela ith #daniela x carla ith #carla ith #daniela ith #in the heights #it's just a ficlet but at least it's finished

[theminecraftbee]

Joe had tried to write a will once.

Well, more accurately, he’d tried to make Cleo write one. After all, she had appropriate custody over an entire ship full of ghost sailors that season! If she’d inconveniently died, it would have been irresponsible to leave her armor stands to figure out what to do with the disaster that had resulted. Simply irresponsible, not to have a will.

Cleo had laughed at him. “Joe, I’m already dead. I’m not sure zombies can legally have wills.”

He’d huffed back. “Zombies can be responsible with what to do after they depart this plane the same as everyone else. Or, the second time they depart? You may have a point on the legality of the matter...”

He’d ended up half writing one too. To be honest, even as they both updated it season-to-season, Joe rarely had much he wasn’t willing to leave behind or loose. Oh, sure, he was terrible at letting go. One of the last through to the next world at the end of most seasons, in fact, too many projects still in the works, too many irons still in the fire. But not being willing to let go and not being willing to lose - those are two different things, now aren’t they? So, honestly, not much in his will. Normally, just who would take custody of any pets he’d picked up. (It was Cleo, and then normally either Xisuma or Scar if she couldn’t, depending on the pet and the year.)

He’d written it in rhyme this season, he thinks, standing alone in front of the spawn egg. Well, as fitting as everything else - no one will be around to execute it.

...and no one will have to. After all, Cleo had, after much cajoling, written hers in rhyme too, and he’s the executor. So, clearly, he can’t die, because that would put Cleo in real trouble if she managed to die a second time. Which she wouldn’t! Because she had a plan!

Maybe, he thinks, Cleo had a point, back then. Joe conquers death, and Cleo’s already died once.

What -

- he stares at the moon so long it burns his eyes, and then he takes flight again, ignoring the growing horrendous heat in his chest -

- what do they need wills for, anyway?

(Nothing at all.)

#yeah i don't know if i like this drafting it for now. #<- going through my drafts and apparently there’s just this WHOLE FICLET SITTING HERE? #with this as the only tag #and what the fuck this is actually good why didn’t I post it? #a bee fic #for the record this would have been written probably at most like two weeks after s8 finale #judging by other drafts #hermitcraft #joe hills #zombiecleo #moon’s big #<- been a while since I used that one #anyway since I am feeling an unknowable anxiety and can’t sleep there’s at least one other ficlet in here worth finishing/rescuing #so you may get another Old Thing Second Wrote

[uberoll-oystercrackers]

good timing just might be mythical. i know, i know; “how typical”.

#steven universe #lars barriga #ube art #so... ugh. this is smthn i drew back in february. i drew this with my left hand. #i injured my right hand/wrist horrifically in december 2021 and i basically just cant use that hand anymore. #without getting too much into it i am really struggling. but idk. #i felt good about this when i drew it and it made me feel like i really had potential to continue making drawings even with my clumsy and #very sluggish left hand but to be honest i have barely drawn since this and im pretty sure this was just a fluke #nothing ive made since this has been remotely near the quality whatsoever haha #i wanted to make so much more lars and sadie art but i just dont know if i ever will at this point. it's hard on me and it takes so so much #time to draw now.... but anyway enough of that i can at least tell you this is a portrayal of lars from my office larsadie au #i have a wip ficlet of it lying around Somewhere but lord knows if i'll ever be assed to put it all together clean it up and post it #im allergic to finishing things :o)

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

#Stranger Things #Stranger things fic #Steve Harrington #Steddie #Eddie Munson #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet

[whiskersz]

Heyy! I hope you're having a good day. My fav hazbin character is Husk. Could you please do a ficlet where he and the reader have feelings for each other but are both nervous to admit it. Husk is having a bad day and maybe really stressed and the reader tries to comfort him? Maybe says something like "you're always a great listener for everyone one else, but you need someone to listen to you too". Lots of comfort, fluff, confessions, and love please! ♡♡ my heart aches for this sweet grumpy kitty!

Hey to you! This turned out a bit long, and maybe I did rush the end because I'm just...still not used to writing short fics, ahah. But hey, it's finished and I hope you enjoy it at least a bit!

Text divider by : cafekitsune

Husk x Reader - We found love in Hell

“I’m back!”

You announced, closing the entrance door of the Hotel behind you. You had gone out to run a few errands earlier in the day, and now that it was night the only thing on your mind was lying in bed and falling asleep.

Angel, already back from work and concentrated on his phone, waved at you tiredly; you decided to sit next to him on the couch after shooting a smile at Husk, who seemed grumpier than usual.

Albeit a bit lazily, you and Angel Dust started chatting for a bit, telling each other about how your day went and what you did. When the topic of the other residents of the Hotel came up, the spider demon lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I’ve got to say toots; Whiskers over there is in a bad mood today.” He revealed to you, making you perk up immediately.

“Oh, I did notice he didn’t seem up to a conversation, that’s why I didn’t bother him...” your gaze fell on his figure, all you could see was his back; he seemed to be busying himself with something. “You know if anything happened?”

Angel shrugged, then smirked at you slyly.

“Not sure, but I know of a few things you could try to cheer him up.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully before shaking your head.

“No thanks, I’ll pass. I’ll talk to him though, thank you for telling me.”

Angel knew very well of you and Husk’s crushes on each other, so he didn’t mind playing matchmaker sometimes. He guessed the best thing to do would’ve been to leave the two of you alone, so he stretched a bit before getting up and announcing that he was off to bed.

You told him goodnight, while Husk simply gave him a nod.

In all honesty, you felt a little bad going up to him for conversation now that you knew he wasn’t in the best mood, but you still did so in hopes of comforting him at least a little. When you sat at the counter, he finally turned around.

“Good evening Husk, how are you?” you faked ignorance and asked, resting your face on your hand. He fluttered his wings and nodded at you as a greeting, putting aside the cloth he had been using to clean the sink.

“Can’t complain. How about you? Want me to pour you somethin’?” he asked despite looking particularly beat, as Angel had warned you.

You shook your head.

“No, just wanted to, y’know... talk to you for a bit before going to bed. Are you sure you’re okay?” your warm smile admittedly made his cheek flush. He was glad that his fur could cover that up at least partially.

Concentrating on your question though, he gave you a deep sigh.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a couple things on my mind today, but who doesn’t go through that.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair; it was your turn to blush.

However you weren’t a fan of how vague he was being. You sighed, which made him turn towards you once again.

“It is common I guess. But even this morning you seemed troubled, so you know...you always listen to others, but it’s fine if sometimes you need to be listened to, too.”

Husk wasn’t one to have big reactions but, having been close for some time, you did notice his eyebrows raising a little at your statement. Still, you hoped he’d say something. When he didn’t, you continued to fill the silence.

“...Not to push you, of course. Maybe you want distractions, I can talk about my day or something...just, let me know how I can help now that I’m here, yeah?”

He took a deep breath, then leaned on the bar’s counter so he could be closer to you, copying your position with his head resting on his hand.

“Ya worry too much, really, I’m fine. Just had way too many interactions with...” he let out a sigh; Alastor, you guessed. It wasn’t surprising that he would be distraught after interacting with the demon he had lost his soul to.

He was pretty vague in his explanations of what happened too, but if he didn’t want to go too in depth about how he felt you were going to respect that. Eventually, the two of you noticed that it was getting late, so you decided to turn off the big lights in favour of smaller, dimmer ones that set a cosy atmosphere.

You sat comfortably on the couch, legs crossed as you listened to Husk speak about a lighter topic now; how everyone had been asking to mix way too complicated cocktails lately while he was already in a bad mood. You knew this wasn’t aimed at you as you either always asked for the same one or didn’t even order one at all, too busy dealing with errands for Charlie or yourself.

“...Thanks for listenin’, by the way.” He said suddenly, and you smiled at him.

“It’s not a problem, that’s what...friends are for.” You said hesitantly.

“Yeah, I s’ppose.”

Friends, you both thought, unbeknownst to each other. You and Husk had been friends for a while, always relying on each other when things got bad. Always managed to break through each other’s walls and get the other to talk about their deepest troubles.

It was clear to everyone at the Hotel that you two were very close, and saw the other in a very positive light, one that outshined the definition of ‘friend’; there was something more that you both wanted, but were too scared, perhaps because of past experiences, to go through with.

“Been a while since I sat with someone to talk about something until late at night.” Husk confessed, breaking your train of thoughts.

“It’s just because it’s me, I bet.” You said jokingly, yet boldly. He chuckled.

“Usually it’s the other way around. They talk, I listen. Feels nice to be listened to.”

Even though you were the listener in this case, he made sure to make you feel appreciated by basically confessing that there was nobody else he’d open up to. You admittedly felt too tired to conjure any insightful thought or answer, so you simply leaned against him; the sudden contact made his ears perk up, but he slowly got comfortable with it and cuddled closer to you himself.

“I’ll always listen to you, Husk.”

“I thought I lost the ability to love long ago;” you thought he was about to start another rant, so you slightly looked up at him to let him know he had your full attention; “Turns out my old heart was jus’ waiting for you to come along.” He finished, looking away.

You felt his wing tentatively reach to hug your side, so you shifted a bit to allow it to. It was warm, comfortable. Exactly how you felt around Husk.

Registering his words, the blush on your cheeks spread. This was his own way of confessing to you.

“I love you, too.” He let his head rest on the top of yours as you muttered those words nervously, as if it was a gesture meant to comfort you.

The next morning, Charlie had to contain a squeal as her and the rest of the residents of the Hotel found you cuddled up next to each other on the cough, sleeping soundly, wrapped in Husk’s wings as if they were a blanket.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel #husk hazbin #husker #husker x reader #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

[wileys-russo]

“You look better in red” ficlet mayhaps🫶🏼

you look better in red

"no!" you laughed, shaking your head firmly from where you lay on the bed. "baby!" millie whined, stomping her foot like a toddler as she glared down at you. "please." the blonde pouted as you again shook your head.

"what am i then? chopped liver?" mary scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring at the taller girl beside her. "no! i just thought it would work best with three of us." millie huffed, having spent the last half an hour begging you to do a tiktok with her as you promptly refused.

"go on then snakehips. time's a tickin!" you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow and tapping your watch as your girlfriend gave you a mean stare and set up her phone to record.

you were away on england camp for the olympic qualifiers and of course that meant millie and mary had to record as many tiktoks as they could, millie dubbing herself the tiktok princess to marys tiktok queen.

"oi those are my shorts!" you realised as your girlfriend hiked her hoodie up a little, your favourite pair of shorts snugly wrapped around her muscular thighs. "our shorts baby." millie corrected, blowing you a kiss as mary fake gagged.

"best not stretch them with your tree trunk thighs or we'll be havin words." you warned her sternly, mary now ooohing. "ow mills!" the girl huffed as the chealsea player punched her, the timer starting as the music went.

"go on girls!" you cheered with a clap as they both started to dance, stifling your laughter behind your hand as they both went the wrong way and crashed into one another.

this seemed to be a common trend as the two of them routinely argued back and forth about who was doing which part, at least ten takes in and still not able to use a single one. "would you stop laughin!" millie scowled at you as you buried your face in a pillow to muffle the noise.

"sorry! just its like you've both got two left feet. like big clumsy giants!" you clutched at your stomach, now the laughter was free flowing it was unable to stop. "right! if it's so easy then you do it love, go on!" your girlfriend gestured, her and mary stepping back as you shrugged.

you made sure the camera wasn't recording as you clicked play on the sound, counting yourself in and starting to dance, both girls jaws dropping as you didn't miss a beat or a single move. "ta da!" you finished, giving them both a sarcastic jazz hands.

"mary get out." millie mumbled, jaw slack as she stared at you with a familiar look in her eyes. "what?" the keeper frowned, unsure if she'd heard correctly. "out, get out." millie spoke, jumping to her feet and pouncing at you, hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

"ergh alright at least wait till i'm gone before you suck face!" mary groaned, grabbing her jacket and hurrying out of the room as millies large hands groped at you. "baby that was so hot." the taller girl mumbled into your mouth.

"don't laugh! i'm tryin to kiss ya here that's not very romantic." millie frowned as you pushed her away, body vibrating with amusement. "you are honestly like a teenage boy, the most weird and simple things turn you on bright!" you teased, shoving her suddenly as she fell back onto the bed.

"go on then baby. dance for me!" the older girl smirked, shuffling back to rest on her elbows as her eyes scanned you up and down hungrily. "you already got a free show. sorry love i'm a one trick pony!" you grinned, sending her a wink.

"alright! well then i guess i'll just have to dance for you." millie sighed, grabbing your hand and tugging you down on the bed, rolling on top of you and attacking your face with kisses before she stood.

"might want to get a head start and take your shorts and shirt off baby, cause this dance is gonna knock your socks off!" millie blew you a kiss and wiggled her finger guns, backing up as you raised your eyebrows at her confidence.

"count me in, from five." she flicked through her phone before she turned her back to you, pulling her hood up to cover her messy bun of hair. "oh my god." you sighed as pony blasted from her phone and you counted her in from five.

"millie!" you laughed as she turned, starting to body roll and bite her lip, mouthing along to the words. "call me magic millie baby." she flipped her hood off, dropping to the floor and rolling her body like a stripper as you laughed.

"baby this is not hot." you bit down on your lip as she wiggled and bucked her hips on the floor, shaking her head so much that her bun was clinging on for dear life to her head.

"scuse me, no talking from the audience." she warned, jumping up to her feet and quickly stripping herself of her hoodie, tossing it so it landed on your face. "keepsake darlin, from me to you." she winked and blew you a kiss as you peeled it off of you and dropped it to the floor.

"do we have a volunteer? oh you look willing for a good time!" mary yelled out, pointing to you and starting to stalk her way over. "millie!" your stomach hurt from laughing so hard as she stood in between your legs, grabbing the back of your neck and pressing your face into her stomach, rolling her body up and down as she continued to sing along.

"you want me? you can't have me!" millie yelled in a funny accent, suddenly shoving you away from her as she turned around and wiggled her bum at you.

you wolf whistled and broke out into cheers as the song ended and she dropped to her knees, peace signs in the air. "now that, that was dancing." millie breathed out, admittedly a little puffed from the effort.

"shut up and kiss me you big dopey idiot."

#millie bright x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #millie bright #woso x reader #engwnt

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

steddie time travel s3 ficlet, Part 1

Ao3, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

"Harrington! Customers!"

Pins and needles flood Steve's limbs as Robin's voice slowly comes into focus, his eyes still scrunched closed with sleep. The tiredness is heavy in his bones, like he's been asleep for years in the oddly cold back room of Family Video.

"Dingus!"

Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep on his break. Actually, he doesn't remember taking his break at all. Or even coming into Family Video. In fact, the last thing he remembers was covered in black and red slime-

"DINGUS! YOUR BREAK IS SO OVER!"

Steve forces his eyes open to witness the too-white walls of a break room that burned down a year ago. Frantic hands run over the garish blue and red of the tacky sailor uniform he hated, the same uniform he lit on fire in his backyard with Robin before the start of her senior year. Somehow, it's back. All of it. It's all come back to haunt him.

Robin from a year ago seems to also be back to haunt him -or maybe she's here as his savior- either way, she's just as loud as ever as she kicks the swinging door to the cramped back room in. It hits the wall with a crack, causing a jolt of both familiarity and dread to shoot up Steve's spine.

He waits for the tell-tale chime of a clock that was still ringing in his ears before he woke up in the summer of '85 or Robin's face to start warping into the melted mass of tentacles hiding in the Creel attic that will certainly become a common occurrence in his nightmares, but the only thing in front of him is Robin's all too common apathetic yet disappointed stare.

"I gave you an extra 7 minutes to sleep, but that little sampling-brat and her terror-troop are back for more and I swear to God, Harrington, I cannot deal with her again today, I just can't-"

Steve cuts off her ramble by scrambling out of his seat with more effort than either of them had ever put into this job, squeezing past her and out of the small doorway.

"Steve, where are you- hey!" Robin says as she latches into Steve's shoulder before he can finish his beeline out the door.

"I'll explain later if you still exist," Steve responds as he turns out of her grasp, shoving past the group of teens making their way into the store. He can hear Robin's small shouts after him, but her exasperation with him is nothing new and frankly the least of his worries.

Starcourt, somehow, is still standing. Clamping down on his rising heart rate, Steve glances around for any sign of the current date, or even year. Everything is exactly the same as it was a year ago, but Steve knows nothing he sees can be trusted. Not with the visions Max described, that's for goddamn certain. While he doesn't know enough science fiction shit like Dustin to know if he jumped universes or is in a different reality or whatever the fuck, he can at least place a little bit of faith in his ability to distinguish dreams and visions from reality.

His frantic pace along with the extremely out of place sailor costume draws in a few curious stares, but again, least of his worries. No one's faces warp into slimy horrors and none of the walls start crawling with vines, no flickering lights, no distorted voices in his head, no signs of the upside down at all. As comforting as that should be in theory, that means it's something else entirely and definitely something Steve can't figure out on his own.

He finds himself leaving a trail of pinches down his arm as he reaches the far side of the mall, posters for the theater coming into view. A particular poster catches his eye, BACK TO THE FUTURE highlighted in yellow and orange in all its sci-fi font glory.

Fuck. 1985. Again.

He presses his fingertips into the glass covering the poster as his breaths come out raggedy and sharp. C'mon, wake up man. It's all some weird ass fever dream, you probably just hit your head again.

He waits a few seconds and prays to wake up. Nothing. Obviously, he thinks. He's stuck, somehow, a year ago, with no clue how it happened or how to fix it or if anything here is even real in the first place.

Steve isn't the guy who comes up with plans, okay? That's more of a Nance thing, and Steve is totally fine with his role as the muscle. Unfortunately, right now there seems to be absolutely no Nancy Wheeler, and Steve has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.

He steps back from the entrance to the theater and spins around probably faster than he should for someone who maybe just got shot through time, and comes face to face with a small music store labeled Hot Wax Records in some sort of groovy 70's style font. That's not what gets him though.

Steve stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the guy at the front desk. His hair's a little shorter than he last remembers it, hitting just above his shoulders instead of just below them. The man is wearing a familiar denim vest with slightly fewer patches and less grime than was on it when it was adorning Steve's shoulders, but familiar all the same. What gets Steve though is that the man at the counter is white-knuckling the edge with one hand while the other braces and claws itself around his neck, a look of equal parts horror and recognition strewn across his features. He looks on the verge of screaming, yet his eyes are forcefully locked into Steve's with a determination Steve had only seen from him once before.

They both falter a half step forward as Steve struggles to find his tongue.

"Eddie?"

#steddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #Shovel writes

[aurumacadicus]

stony ficlet number ask 113

Steve dropped to the ground where he stood, shield clattering to the broken cement at his side. He was exhausted. He could fight for hours, but he really hated it. He couldn't tell if that was just physical, though. Sometimes the emotional toll was worse than the physical one, based on who they were fighting.

He heard the whirr of repulsors, the dull clank of metal hitting the ground and the whirring of the gears of armor whining under the effort of movement. Steve sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out through his lips slowly, tipping his head back so he could catch sight of Tony in the armor.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked, flipping his mask up. "You're sitting down. That bad, huh?"

Steve managed a faint smile. "Oh, I don't know. I was thinking I might lie down and die for about a half an hour, okay?"

"Oof," Tony answered, unable to keep from wincing at least a little bit. It seemed like it was instinct, though, rather than actual worry. He stepped a little closer, left leg giving an alarming little squeak with each step. "Well, as long as it's only a half an hour. Anything longer and I'd just take a nap in the armor."

"Absolutely not," Steve retorted. Sure, the armor could cradle his body and keep it safe, but sleeping upright was difficult on the body. Tony smiled, mischievous and sweet all at once, and Steve couldn't help but smile back, smitten. He motioned at Tony's leg. "Something is squeaking."

Tony flipped his face plate shut, and Steve took a moment to just take him in, watch how the armor shifted in minute increments to test every bolt and joint. It was always a marvel to see. Tony had designed the armor all by himself, had checked every piece with his own hands. He was so incredibly smart. So incredibly clever.

"Quick fix once we get home," Tony said, face plate popping back open. His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and there was a little swelling on his left cheek. It would probably bruise. But his eyes were bright at the idea of tinkering with the armor later, and his smile was wide with pleasure at his armor having worked with only a small malfunction.

So incredibly beautiful, Steve sighed, leaning his chin on his hand.

"Well, I'm hungry, so finish being dead, and--what?" Tony asked when he noticed the way Steve was staring at him. He blinked, lifting a gauntleted hand to his face. "I didn't get more than a glancing blow to the face, is it bad? It doesn't feel bad, I--"

"It's so unfair that you can still be so handsome after a fight," Steve said, trying to sound like he was complaining, but he could feel the goofy smile crossing his face. "I think I should kiss you all over."

Tony let out a surprised little huff, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Well, that could be arranged, maybe, after you eat something."

"You?" Steve asked hopefully.

"Maybe something with more carbs," Tony suggested instead, holding his hand out to him.

Steve took it, forcing himself not to drag Tony down for a kiss. He'd learned his lesson the last time when he'd lunged up and gotten cut by the edge of the face plate. But once it was removed, he was kissing Tony wherever he could reach.

#aurumacadicus answers #ravynfyre #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

[sentientgolfball]

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK (re: phantom/aether ficlet) YOU CANT JUST THROW A BUNCH OF MY FAVE KINKS INTO ONE FICLET THEN SAY THIS

AND END IT THERE OH MY GOD ELABORATE??? PLEAS MAKE PART TWO AND ELABORATE IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU ON MY KNEES RN

mwehehehehehee

That's it that's all I have to saw about that

Tags: mean Aeth, irresponsible use of quintessence, knot mention

Aether shoved his knot passed their lips, gripping the back of their head while he came down their throat. Phantom would’ve came when the taste hit his tongue, but Aeth made sure that was impossible. He dick was so hard and he’s sure he would’ve came at least three times by now if it wasn’t for the amount of quint Aether was pouring into him. His scars hadn’t stopped glowing for the last ten minutes. 

“Once this goes down we’re gonna see if you can take my whole hand, how does that sound love bug?” 

Phantom projected his affirmation into Aether’s mind. The older quint smiled, petting at his cheek to feel his knot inside. Phantom would have to thank Cirrus and Cumulus later for teaching him the tricks. 

When his knot finally deflates, Aether pulls out of his mouth and gives him a moment to breathe. There’s still not a single part of his body Phantom can move except for his eyes. He feels floaty, like he’s watching everything Aether is doing to his body through a window. He can’t even moan when Aeth flips him over and prodes a finger into his ass, vocal chords completely paralyzed. Aether gets the idea though, the connection between their quintessence making every thought and feeling as clear as day. 

When Aether slides a second finger in Phantom’s dick twitches. He wishes more than anything Aether would let him cum. They’ve been at this for what feels like hours now. But Aether’s not done yet. And if Aether isn’t done then Phantom isn’t done. 

“You’ve been so good for me. Taking everything I’ve given you” Aether curls his fingers. 

Phantom’s eyes flutter and he instinctively tries to buck back against him, but his hips don’t even twitch. 

“It’s amazing what the body can do with a little bit of help isn’t it? I could teach you so much” Aether slides his fingers out of his ass only to shove a third one in. 

Phantom practically begs over their connection. What for he has no idea anymore. His whole world right now is Aether. He can feel him in every crevice in his mind, can feel his touch lighting up every nerve in his body. He thinks he’d like that, knowing the tricks Aether does. Phantom knows the pack sure as hell would love it. The idea of Rain or Dew or Mountain begging him to fuck them like this sends a wave of pleasure through him. Aether laughs low when he feels it shudder through him. 

“Yea love bug is that what you want? Maybe some other night. This one’s for me.” 

Aether slips a fourth finger into them and they swear they can feel a dribble of pre leak from their cock through Aether’s control. Though when the feeling only grows he knows exactly what it is. It’s Aether’s cum trickling out of his ass, sliding down his dick and coating his thighs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll fill you again when I’m finished with this.”

Ever so slowly Aether works his fifth finger into Phantom, giving a satisfied hiss when he finally gets his whole hand inside of him. He doesn’t move, giving Phantom a moment to recuperate as he focuses his quintessence on the straining muscles. He urges him to relax and Phantom is helpless to it. It doesn’t help that everything Aether feels is being echoed back through him. He wants it just as desperately as him, maybe even more given the suggestion he projects across the bond. 

“You sure you want me to do that love bug?” Aether asks, but they both know he’s already made up his mind. 

Phantom blinks at him. It’s the closest thing to a nod he can physically do. 

Aether laughs “You’re worse than Mountain.” 

He slowly uncurls one of his fingers, quickly followed by the second. He carefully scissors his fingers inside of him. He grunts when he hears Phantom whine in his mind, cock kicking in his lap and spitting a thick glob of pre. He takes his time uncurling the rest of his fingers, savoring every little noise that rattles in his head. He flexes his all five fingers and Phantom swears he saw the Hells again for a moment. Aether stays like that for a minute or an hour, Phantom’s brain too full of honey to notice anything until he feels the pressure of him carefully slipping his fist out of him. 

“Oh Hells Phantom, love bug, look at you you’re fucking gaping” Aether traces his rim with a feather light touch. 

“You’re going to be ruined for anyone else. Fuck I don’t even think my knot will catch” he pauses and hums thoughtfully “I guess there’s only one way to find out though.”

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #the band ghost fic #phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #golfball writes

[writingfanficsfan]

Tag Nine People You Want to Get to Know Better

I was tagged by @sounds-of-some-day Thanks for the tag!

Three ships: WinterIron. Sherstrade. Dreville. 

First ever ship: Probably Buffy and Spike. But I heard about fandoms and fanfiction because of Sherlock BBC and Johnlock. I also wrote my first ficlet for them. 

Last song/album is: Endless Summer Vacation by Miley Cyrus. I’m even thinking of buying the CD so I can listen to it in my car. 

Last movie: Pirates of the Caribbean on the tv (always enjoy those movies!) . Knives Out: Glass Onion on Netflix (that one was hilarious and I loved it)

Currently reading: The Hunger Games, book 1. (I bought the box set with the one book included). And I’m reading Winter’s End by  ali_aliska I don’t care that it’s not finished, the words that are out are so good, I’m finding it very comforting. 

Currently watching: I’m following Perry Mason. And I just watched Moon Knight on Disney+  Not sure what I will watch next, I have a list on both Disney+ and Netflix of shows and series I want to try. 

Currently consuming: Nothing at the moment. 

Currently craving: For this day to be over. Or at least for the funeral to be over. 

I tag without ordering: @chained-to-the-mirror @27dragons @not-close-to-straight @mutedsilence @lavenderandvanilla @the-pen-pot @the-reading-lemon @george-the-pumpkin

#tag game #getting to know me #getting to know you

[sotwk]

The Baker from Lórien (Haldir gen ficlet)

Summary: A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace.

Word count: 1.1k

Content: Pure fluffy randomness, mother-son relationship, toddler Legolas

Rating: General (no warnings apply)

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: I wrote this ficlet purely on a whim; I had no plans or strategy for it going in. It could be nonsense, or I could be onto something. XD It's most likely going to stay a random SotWK AU one-shot, but who knows. I pretty much just wanted to finally write any story featuring Haldir, whom I love dearly and firmly believe was one of the most desired bachelors east of the Mountains. Special thanks to my friend @creativity-of-death who inspired the concept of a Baker Haldir long ago!

Headcanons about Haldir in the SotWK AU: Any questions you might have about the background history in this fic would be answered HERE.

The Baker from Lórien

Third Age 246 Spring

Bar Lasgalen, the Palace of the Elvenking

“Down and forward, turn, and fold over. Repeat. Remember to use the heel of your hand--this part, right here.”

The lump of dough felt pleasantly squishy in Legolas’s hands, and only with great self-restraint did the four-year-old elfling manage to resist playing with it like modeling clay, instead of following his instructor’s example. With eyes narrowed in determined concentration, he watched the steadily working hands of the elf across the table from him. After just a minute or so of observation, he began to mimic the brisk kneading motion.

“Yes, good! That is very good.” The visitor from Lórien seemed pleased, albeit surprised, by how quickly the child caught on.  

Legolas beamed at the ellon’s praise, and held the smooth ball of dough up high over his head in triumph. “Is it ready for the oven now?”

“Not quite.” The silver-haired ellon took the dough from Legolas and checked it with a few expert prods of his fingers. “It needs time to rest and rise. An hour at least, although up to three is much better, and then we can reshape it into loaves. Then it must rest again, before it can be baked.” 

“Three hours?!” Legolas exclaimed, already dismissive of whatever other steps came after. “Does bread really take that long to make every time?”

“The loaves should be fresh and hot out of the oven just in time for your Highness’s breakfast.” Legolas watched as his dough ball was placed into a large pan next to five others and covered with a dish cloth.  

“And a delicious breakfast is best preceded by a sound night’s sleep, is it not?” The voice that came from the kitchen doorway made Legolas scramble off his stool. He smiled sheepishly at his nursemaid, Ninniel, as she entered with a knowing smile and firm shake of her head for him.

The older ellon spoke up. “My apologies, Emmë. I should have realized the hour was too late.”

“It’s all right. It appears some valuable learning has been accomplished here, at least.” Ninniel took in the rather comical sight of her grown son towering next to her not-at-all-grown charge, both of them dusted in flour, and felt all her exasperation melt away. She dipped a tea towel into the washing basin and set to work wiping the sticky residue off Legolas’s fingers. 

“Will you come and get me when my loaf is finished baking, Halidr?”

“Well…” Haldir of Lórien glanced hesitantly at his mother. He was still unsure what to make of Thranduil’s sons, who all behaved without any regard or perhaps even awareness of their social rank. Legolas, in particular, had been unabashed in his fascination with Haldir ever since his arrival at Bar Lasgalen. Today was merely the first day of a month-long, overdue visit to his parents, and most of it had passed with the little prince turning up wherever Haldir happened to be, armed with a constant stream of questions. “It really is not my place to--”

“When your bread comes out of the oven, I will wake you to come and have it for  breakfast, with me and Haldir,” Ninniel interjected smoothly. “But the sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can rise refreshed for a new day, yes?”

“That sounds excellent!” Legolas threw his hands up, and wriggled his hips in a little sort of dance. “I shall be back in a few hours, Haldir! Please take care of my bread!” he called out to the bemused elf before bounding out the door. 

“Are you still finding everything all right, dearest?” Ninniel swept a light hand over her son’s broad back. In one touch she could tell Haldir was fairly relaxed, as she had hoped he would gradually become. Her eldest had always been the most serious of her children, and his nature only grew graver as the ages passed and the memories of hard years weighed on him. It had been far too long since his last visit to Eryn Galen, so rarely could he be persuaded to leave his post at the March, and Ninniel hoped the brief holiday away would be restful for his spirit. 

“Yes, everyone here at the palace has been… quite attentive.” Haldir smiled and planted a swift kiss over his mother’s hair. “The prince’s arrival sent them scurrying off, I fear, but I do not think he seemed to mind or notice.”

Ninniel shook her head. “The only thing they were running from was their own embarrassment,” she said. “I will let you return to your work, my love. Legolas and I will be back soon.”

And indeed, as soon as she exited the kitchen, she encountered the gaggle of young kitchen maids waiting in the hall, preparing to re-enter now that the royal Highness had left and gone to bed. 

“Lady Ninniel,” they curtsied to her, appearing only mildly abashed by her witness to their obvious intentions. But this was a small phenomenon Ninniel had grown accustomed to over the years, for it became clear early on that her handsome son elicited rather strong reactions from elleths, often without any encouragement. 

“My lady, if we may…” one of the girls blurted out. “We were wondering… that is, we wanted to make certain… do you know whether or not Lord Haldir…”

“He is not a lord, and he would not appreciate being addressed as one,” Ninniel corrected gently. “And as far as I know, he is not engaged, involved, or taken with anyone at present.” She gazed at the line of hopeful faces and pressed her lips to smother a chuckle. “Any of you are welcome to try and draw his interest, if that is your wish.”

But best of luck, indeed. Ninniel sighed as she departed, leaving the sounds of pitchy giggling behind her as the pack descended on her oblivious son. Whether there was any chance of a maiden in all of the Woodland Realm catching Haldir of Lórien’s eye, much less his elusive heart, she did not know. That hope had certainly not borne any fruit in over a thousand years of matchmaking attempts. But any diversion, any added source of joy outside of his work, his books, or his baking, could only be a good thing. 

Anything beyond that--dare say a betrothal, a marriage, or even a new precious grandchild--was something Ninniel was prepared to be completely surprised with. But a mother will always hope.

For more SotWK Fanfiction: Fanfiction Masterlist

Elves Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @fizzyxcustard @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @quickslvxrr @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Headcanon Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk fanfiction #haldir #haldir of lorien #haldir of lothlorien #the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #legolas #thranduil headcanon #greenwood the great #sotwk oc #thranduilion #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #woodland realm #lord of the rings #silvan elves

[createserenity]

Master List of My Fics and WIPs

Been meaning to do this for ages, so here we go. All titles link through to the fics on AO3. All The Pieces of You (E, 66k - wip)

This is my main wip. Essentially it's a mad romp through history starting from 33AD and eventually working up to the present day (or at least up to the end of season 1). A mixture of smut, fluff and ridiculous historical adventures.

AO3 Summary:

Aziraphale had known he found Crowley attractive for a long time, but there was nothing wrong with that. The Almighty had done a very nice job when she’d made Crowley and surely appreciating the work of the Almighty was what angels were supposed to do? It was nothing more than that.

Except now Aziraphale knows what lust feels like and that might be a problem.

In The Beginning (E, 8.9k - complete)

In the beginning there was a garden and the Angel of the Eastern Gate and the Serpent of Eden decided that there are better things to do than stand around in the rain getting wet.

Shameless smut, in which Aziraphale and Crowley learn what all the fuss is about sex.

Better Than Today (E, 4k - complete)

Whenever they fucked Crowley said, “I love you.”

It would probably help if they talked about it, but somehow they just keep ending up having sex instead.

Smut with a fluffy ending.

Give In To Desire (E, 4.4k - complete)

Crawley hadn't actually meant for this to happen. He'd thought he'd tempt the angel into eating and the angel would maybe have a few bites and discover that it wasn't so bad after all. He hadn't expected to be setting himself up to be tempted into the sin of lust.

Just another fic speculating on what happened in the basement during the Job minisode, because you can never have too many of those, right?

A Day For Magic (T, 3.4k - complete)

In which there is a bench, a park and a coin, which leads to silliness and fluffiness all round.

Fic inspired by these kisses.

A Time of Wanting (T, <1k - complete)

Crowley wants.

He wants so badly and he's wanted for so long that it's a physical ache in his chest now. Short ficlet that's fluffy and happy, despite how the summary makes it seem. Also inspired by the kiss picture linked above.

Goodnight Angel (E, 14.4k - wip but also works as it is)

Post lockdown-phone-call fic.

Aziraphale had told him not to come over, but he was a demon and obviously he wasn't going to listen. Besides he was going out of his mind with boredom and going to see the angel was a much better idea than a long nap.

WIPs

Apart from my main wip All The Pieces of You I've also got a follow up to In The Beginning in the works and eventually I'll go back to Goodnight Angel as well. Apart from that I'm going to list my wips here and try to keep track of them with tags and get a bit better at posting about them. Some of these will probably never get written, especially since a few days ago there was only 12, then I scrapped one altogether taking it down to 11 and now somehow I'm up to 13. Too many ideas in my head and too many half writtten fics on my computer.

After The Swap

Blind date

Dance for Me

End Times

Entertain Me

Here's to the End Times (yep different to the above fic despite the similar working title)

It's You (This one is a one shot human AU and might be posted soon)

Run Away Together

Lockdown Lifted

So You Can Take It Off (Desperately want to finish this because it's different to anything else I've written)

South Downs

This Land of Ours (fits in the Pieces of You universe)

Waking Up With You (This is another one shot that is almost done)

Job (This is finished and posted as Give In To Desire - linked above - although technically there are more chapters in the works)

#my writing #all the pieces of you #goodnight angel #in the beginning #all the kisses in the world #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #waking up with you #it's you #wips #give in to desire #fic list

[elexuscal]

Ficlet prompt idea! Interactions between ART and Pin-Lee and/or Mensah in the time after NE but before SC.

More thoughts if you wanted more inspiration than a single line. Does Pin-Lee teach ART some new curses ('cause ART curses alot more in this book, and I wanna blame Pin-Lee like how Rhatti mentions the overlap between MB and Pin-Lee's curse vocab)? How great would their banter be, lawyer vs know-it-all-AI?!

Is ART still kinda shy/excited by meeting Mensah?

Thank you~ I really love your work!!!

Awwww thank you very much!

Oh man i was so spoiled for choice here but i really really struggled to think of an interesting take on this

Big thank you to @specialagentartemis who i paraphrased a significant chunk of this from as well as general Vibes

Asshole vs Asshole

So here's the thing. Here's the fucking thing, okay?

Twenty-three days. Twenty-three fucking days of waiting, of worrying, of preparing. Of nearly chewing her own arm off. Of thinking she was walk into a fucking blood bath.

And the Preservation Alliance rescue team finally gets to the scene of the crime, and no one is dead. Which is fucking good, obviously. Okay. She gets it. No one's dead, no one's lost any limbs, and praise the dark gods of yesteryear, no one has even been kidnapped. This is literally better than the best-case scenarios they concocted.

But surely, surely, Pin-Lee can't be the only one who thinks it is fucking weird to be having tea with the person who did the kidnapping in the fist place?

"Thank you, Perihelion," Ayda says, as a shiny blue drone finishes pouring tea into a cup. Just a whiff and a glance is all Pin-Lee needs to know it was brewed exactly the way Dr. Mensah prefers it.

The drone turns to hover to her. It pours a drink into her own mug. Pin-Lee glares at it.

Ayda doesn't look at her, doesn't so much as tilt her head. But they've worked together for a long, long time now, and Pin-Lee nonetheless reads the subtler body language. She grinds out, "Thank you."

She sips the drink. It is coffee and it is extremely bitter and it's warm-but-not-quite-hot and Pin-Lee has a sneaking suspicion it is at least a few hours old.

[You're welcome~] Perihelion's trills as the drone zooms away.

Peri. Fucking. Helion.

Turns out, it's the one that orchestrated this whole thing. The super-secret advanced spaceship that SecUnit apparently befriended while it was off on its journey of self-discovery or whatever decided that it knew exactly who could handle its little pest control problem, and hadn't much cared which innocent civilians got stuck in the cross-fire.

"There were extenuating circumstances," SecUnit had explained, face set like it was ready for a fight.

"It's all fine, water under the bridge," Ratthi had said. "No harm done really."

"Except for the new layers of fresh trauma," Overse had groused.

"But we're handling that, too," Arada had said, with a too-bright smile. "And it's a good thing we're here to help the colonists."

"Yeah yeah and you should see ART's hydroponics bay, it's super cool," said Amena, tugging on her arm.

So suffice to say she was kind of getting some Mixed Signals about this whole thing.

But okay! Corporates descending to steal the livelihoods of hundreds of innocents! Fine! There's a lot at stake! And this is what Pin-Lee is good at, and (sort of) what she was dragged along to handle, so she is willing to put this all aside for the greater good.

Pin-Lee sips at her under-handed-insult coffee and reads over the legal feed documents of this whole cluster-fuck of a case. "Okay," she says at last. "Okay, this is salvageable. But I'm going to need to some more info before I can fully revise this.."

"Of course," says the captain of The Perihelion, a note of genuine relief in his otherwise professional voice. "What do you need?"

"1: A full list of all the symptoms associated with the contamination, and its speed of spread. That'll influence what level of breach this is classified under. 2: Estimates for all of the colonists deaths that were directly caused due to their being stranded. 3: Monetary evaluation of all the colonists' remaining assets..."

"Of course," the captain agrees

Which is fine. Except fifteen minutes later some teenager not-much-older-than-Amena shows up and hands Pin-Lee a stack of paper.

"What's this?" Pin-Lee says, her eyes immediately skidding off of the hand-written tables and charts.

"That's our evaluation of the colonists' assets, like you asked for," the teenager (Turi?) says.

Pin-Lee looks at Turi, to the papers, and back at Turi again. "Can I get this in the feed?"

"Well.... You can..." Turi says, a bit of red in their cheeks. "But..."

"But no guarantee the numbers won't be doctored there," calls Karime from the other side of the lounge.

Teeth grinding in the back of her mouth, Pin-Lee manages, "What?"

[My numbers are perfectly accurate,] Perihelion protests. [It is hardly my fault if none of you are capable of following the calculations.]

Martyn snorts. "It would help if you bothered explaining all your sources."

[Find them yourself.]

Pin-Lee can barely believe what she's hearing. "Are you telling me... that your AI keeps fucking with the numbers so bad that you need to get a teenager to do the accounts by hand."

"I'm not a teenager, I'm twenty-three." Pin-Lee huffs; as if that's a meaningful difference. "And I'm a very, very good accountant." Turi pauses, then admits, "But that's the long and short of it, yes."

Pin-Lee can't help it. She drops her head to the table and hides it under her arms.

[Do you have a problem with this state of affairs?] the very aptly re-named Asshole Research Transport oozes in her private feed.

[You really don't need me to answer that.]

[You're right. I don't.]

She uncurls her finger and makes a rude gesture. Presumably one of its thousands of cameras will see it.

That summons SecUnit into the conversation. [Are you two fucking with each other again?]

[No,] they say in unison.

[Cut it out,] SecUnit says, and then drops away. Truly a master of conflict resolution, that one.

'I'll cut it out when you learn to make nicer friends', she almost sends, but catches the obvious come-back and stops herself. Instead she takes sip of her shitty coffee and gets to work trying to interpret hand-written accounts.

#murderbot diaries #network effect #system collapse #i want nothing more than ART and Pin-Lee to get on like a house on fire #'is that a good thing or a bad thing?' #yes #don't worry having someone to snipe at is enrichment for both of them #fanfic

[kalimarinu]

rest. - ficlet

[ summary : captain price gettin' all worried because reader is overworked. ]

[ relationships : john price x gn!reader (romantic) ]

[ warnings : 2nd person pov , gn reader 🤍 , reader is around price's age , reader is a stay at home worker , working inaccuracies lol ]

[ word count : 446 ]

[ notes : how'd this do for my first actual fic? heh. ]

John would come back from a fairly okay mission, sighing contentedly as he took in the atmosphere of his flat. But, when he came into the faint-lit living room, he stumbled upon you, who was sitting on the couch, a bit hunched over. Piles of paperwork were beside an open laptop, both which were set on a large coffee table, empty coffee cups in the trashcan next to it.

You looked heavily focused on your work, not even noticing him. You continued dragging the tip of your pen along one of the documents, writing quickly but also trying to make it look professional and neat enough for work.

John frowned when he noticed the dark circles under your eyes, half-lidded from pure exhaustion.

"You shouldn't be working so late, dear." John said, kicking his boots off to the side before walking over to you.

You perked up at the sound of his voice and looked over to him, now realizing John was back home.

"Ah, darling." You paused, lifting your pen from the paper. "You're back home already."

"Yes.. But I didn't wanna come home to see you overworked again." His eyebrows furrowed, glancing over all the unfinished papers you still had yet to complete. "You should take a break."

"The deadline is tomorrow morning, I need to finish these tonight." You went back to your main focus, overviewing the graphs on the laptop screen before going back to writing on the lines of the paper.

Price sighed. He knew finishing work before deadlines was important, he would probably say the same thing if he were in your position right now. But also, your mental and physical state was in higher importance.

"At least take a small break? A little five minute nap?" He said, trying to convince you.

You thought about taking a rest for a few moments. You were tired-- exhausted, your dominant hand almost falling asleep from fatigue and the overuse of it.

"Please, love?" John added, his frown deepening.

".. Maybe." You said, but let out a sigh of your own as you looked over to his expression. "Fine." You decided to just take a rest and listen to him, setting down your pen and turning off your laptop.

John's frown turned into a soft smile when you agreed, and he sat down on the couch next to you. You grinned when he subtly leaned his side on yours, and you leaned back on him as well.

...

That night you slept in each other's arms on that very same couch, sinking into the new cozy ambience the dimmed light coming from outside the window and the distant noises of passing by cars created.

#john price #captain john price #fic #my fic #fanfic #writes #write #short fic #price cod #cod price #cod #cod fic #cod x reader #cod x gn!reader #gn reader #g/n reader #gender neutral reader #john price x reader #john price x gn!reader #john price x gender neutral reader #call of duty #mw #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw #cod modern warfare #character x reader #x reader #;;mar.writes

[shmaptainwrites]

wait i lied do childhood besties to enemies to lovers PLS

betsie ngl it took me a minute to figure out a good plot for this concept that i could do justice with the length i'm going for so now that i have something i really hope you like it! also atp it isn’t a mini blurb it’s a full on ficlet cause i just kept writing LMAO

Pairings: Fitzwilliam Darcy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Wickham mention (yes that's a valid warning bc he sucks), minor height descriptions (again i'm sorry)

Lost Years

Your least favourite time of year was always the time you visited Pemberley with your siblings. It had been that way for a while now, you probably could have pinpointed the date if you tried hard enough.

But just as every year before it was unavoidable.

It used to be an occasion of good fun. Two of your closest friends lived on the estate and you would savour every chance you got to spend with them both, but as you grew older and responsibilities set in, so did the disputes. Your close friendship had become fragmented along with your heart.

The first few days you tried to make sure you were always with at least one of your siblings, or maybe even Miss Georgiana Darcy which would create a buffer for the tension between you and her older brother.

As the estate was so large, it was always possible that by mere coincidence, one may end up in a room alone with another individual.

That quickly became the case for you, as you walked in the library, perusing the selection of books curated by the late Mr. Darcy and his son.

You went to reach for a book on a shelf you could not reach and before you could even thinking of a further attempt to grab it, someone reached from behind you and brought the book.

When you turned around and saw it was the younger Mr. Darcy you couldn't help the sharp remark that slipped past your lips.

"I could have gotten it myself. There was no need for that."

"And I suppose you would have climbed the shelves to accomplish that," he snapped right back.

"I find myself in a different mood than before. You may keep the book, Mr. Darcy," you said curtly and began to walk away.

"Am I to assume that nothing that comes from my hand will be accepted?" he asked.

You turned around.

"Miss, I have delt with your contempt of me in as amiable of a manner as I thought I was capable, but this has crossed a boundary."

"I have crossed a boundary?" you blinked, pointing to yourself. "I believe maybe you should have thought of that when you refused to give Wickham his portion entitled to him of your father's estate!"

Mr. Darcy stared at you blankly for a moment before his expression hardened.

"If Wickham is where your loyalties lie then perhaps contempt on both sides is justified."

"I disagree," you shook your head. "When he told me I could not believe what I was hearing. That you of all people could be so cold and unloving towards a friend. If you could do something like that to Wickham what was stopping you from doing it to me?"

"And what exactly did he tell you?" Mr. Darcy asked and you didn't hesitate to recount Wickham's version of the events.

You could see what almost looked like shock on Mr. Darcy's face as he saw in what light he was being painted, but he allowed you to finish before saying anything.

"I don't suppose you have anything to say for youself," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"That isn't what happened," he said simply.

"T-That isn't what happened? Really Mr. Darcy is that all you can-,"

"I swear it to you," he said. "Ask Mr. Bingley, if you must, but that is not what happened after my father's death."

You loosened your stance, letting your arms fall to your side.

"If not, then what did happen?"

Mr. Darcy took a breath before beginning to explain to you the events following his father's death. He was able to say in great detail what had occured, lining up his story with the timeline of events that had occured in his own life and Wickham's. Even things you had witnessed to your friend's character. Suddenly everything came crashing back down to reality.

When he finished speaking you had to excuse yourself in order to sit down on one of the couches behind you.

"Years," you whispered. "I went on for years believing this."

"You were listening to a friend you thought you could trust," Mr. Darcy even went as far as defending your actions towards him, when all this time he had been innocent of what he was accused. "I understand that this is a lot of information to take in, but may I ask you something?"

"Yes, I suppose," you nodded your head.

"Why didn't you ever ask me about this?"

Of everything he could have asked you, it had to be that. You closed your eyes and swallowed thickly.

"Mr. Darcy I-I'm not sure it would be appropriate to say."

"I have delt with many things much more difficult than this," he assured you. "Please...answer the question."

You chuckled softly to youself,

"We were young, Fitz," you looked over to him and you could see his face soften at the childhood nickname you called him. It was so easy how one word could transport you back in time, maybe a time where things were simpler. "I-," you shook your head and held it in your hands, massaging your temples. The words had become caught in your throat. "I-I-I loved you and if I spoke to you and it was true? It was easier to believe him and spare myself the hurt of hearing it from you directly."

You couldn't sit next to him, quickly standing and moving towards a window instead.

"The thought of finding out someone for which you feel so deeply, might be capable to do something of such an unkindly nature was too much for me to bear I-I'm so sorry."

"You loved me," he whispered softly. "Past tense."

"If I didn't love you, would I care this much about your treatment of Wickham?" you looked back at him, tears glistening in your eyes.

Mr. Darcy stood from his seat and slowly made his way towards you, gingerly reaching for your hand before finally clasping it in his own and bringing it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to its back.

"I have lost money; I have lost trust; I have lost many things because of Wickham," he murmured, your hand still close enough to his lips your could feel them move as he spoke. He lifted his other hand to gently caress your cheek. "But I will never forgive him for making me lose the years I could have spent with you."

"Fitz, I'm so sorry," you apologized as the tears finally spilled from your eyes, "I'm sorry."

You repeated your apologies many times, but they became muffled as he pulled you into him for a tight embrace.

You wrapped your hands tightly around his neck and buried your nose in his shoulder.

When your apologies quieted, he gently moved away, just barely half an arm's length.

"There is no need to apologize, my dear," his countenance calm, at peace. "We will simply have to make up for lost time."

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@iceman-kazansky

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