halfwaydecentfanfiction

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

So I wrote some Carlos/Jay.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

It’s nice to know that someone will want to read my fanfic

No one can convince me that Jay and Carlos aren’t dating and fucking each other.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Hey! Do you still do the songs of yournlife thing, it has been quite a long time. ( ● ♡ ●)

I assume you’re talking about the LoK prompt thing I did a while back.  I never did finish answering all those prompts, and for that I apologize.  At this point, I don’t think I will end up going back to them, partly because I’ve stopped watching the show and partly because I’ve discovered that these things tend to stress me out a lot.  Sorry, Anon!

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Do you write Supernatural ff?

I have been known to do so in the past, but all I have to show for it is one one-shot and a few partially-finished non published ideas.  Also, I've stopped watching the show.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

So I suddenly got the urge to write some Donna fix-it fic.

Title: Spaceman

Genre: Friendship, Fix-It

Word Count: 1,759

Pairing: 10/Donna (Gen)

Summary: Donna finds a way to keep her memories, and the Doctor has some explaining to do.

Links: FF.net/AO3

Donna could see what the Doctor was about to say, and she was having none of it.

“Oh, no,” she said.  “Not a chance, spaceman.  You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”  She dodged away from his outstretched hand.

“Donna, please, I’m trying to help,” the Doctor said desperately.

“There’s plenty of junk in here!” she said.  “Look, if I just...recalibrate the thingamabob...then add this wire on top...” she dashed around, grabbing odds and ends (the Doctor winced as she ripped one particular panel out of the TARDIS), while the Doctor watched, open-mouthed.

“And finally,” she said, snatching the sonic screwdriver out of the Doctor’s hands, “I’ll reverse the electron field around the tertiary wire.”  Triumphantly, she placed the strange contraption of wires and glowing pipes on top of her head, then breathed a sigh of relief.  The Doctor stared, open-mouthed, for a few seconds, then finally said,

“That looks ridiculous,” he said.  

“It does,” she said.  They looked at each other, then both of them started laughing with relief.  

“C’mere, you,” said the Doctor, pulling Donna into a long hug.  

“You’re stuck with me for good now, Doctor, so don’t even try getting out of it,” said Donna.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said the Doctor, grinning so wide his face hurt.

...

“You realize you’ll have to wear that for the rest of your life,” said the Doctor.  They were alone in the TARDIS once more.  They’d said their goodbyes.

“Right.  Okay.  How about I take it off, let you erase my memory, then toddle off back to earth, get another temp job, and move back in with my mother.  Does that sound like a better plan?”

“I-no, no it does not,” the Doctor admitted.

“Good,” she said.  “And another thing.  This thing could break, or fall off, or stop working.  And if it does, you let me die.  Do not erase my memories, because believe me when I say I would rather be dead.”  Her voice shook slightly on those last three words, and the Doctor saw that she looked more scared than angry.

“I promise,” he lied.

“Good,” she said, turning around.  A thought struck her.  She whirled back to face him again.

“You weren’t even going to ask me, were you,” she said.

“Oh, don’t shout,” he said, smiling slightly.

“This isn’t funny!” she yelled.  “You were going to mess with my brain without even asking me what I thought about it?”  Slowly, his smile disappeared.

“I was trying to save your life,” he said.

“Well, isn’t that wizard!” she said.  “Aren’t you such a big flipping hero?  You were trying to save my life, that makes it all better.” 

“You’re being irrational,” he said.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” she said.  “Get out.”

“Donna, this is my TARDIS,” he pointed out.

“Not anymore, it’s not!” she said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the door.  “Maybe I’ll leave you on earth with my mother.  See what you think of it.”  She tossed him out.

“Donna, Donna, wait!” he yelled as the TARDIS slowly dematerialized.  When it disappeared, he sat down on the grass, not sure of what to think.

An hour passed, then two, and the Doctor began to suspect that Donna wasn’t coming back.  Ugh, that would mean he had to stay on Earth, get a job, find a house.  Become domestic.  He shuddered and decided to find a nice park bench and wait a little while longer.

The next morning, he woke up with a start to the sound of the TARDIS.  The door opened, and a scowling Donna appeared.

“Oh, fine,” she said to the TARDIS (the Doctor felt a pang of jealousy; after all, she was his TARDIS).

“You took your time,” he said to Donna.  She regarded him, stony-faced, then turned her back.

“You’re not still mad,” he said, following after her.  She ignored him and walked down one of the hallways and into her bedroom.  The door slammed behind her.

“Donna, you can’t keep this up forever,” he yelled as he attempted to open the door.  The TARDIS wasn’t letting him.  “Forever is a very long time!”  The door remained stubbornly closed.

“A very, very long time,” he muttered, finally giving up and walking away.

...

Knock knock knock.

“Donna,” he called through the door, “we’ve landed on a planet completely populated by cows.”  No answer.

“Fine.  Stay in there.  Miss all the fun,” he said.

...

Knock knock knock.

“Guess what planet I just got back from?” he said.  “Come on, guess.”

No answer.

“The lost planet of Poosh!  Beautiful cities.  Lovely architecture.  You would’ve loved it.”

Nothing.

“We’re still landed, if you want to see it.”

Still nothing.

“Your loss,” he said, shrugging.

...

Knock knock knock.

“Donna,” he coaxed, “if you come out of there, I’ll let you drive the TARDIS.”

That didn’t work any better than anything else.

...

“Donna!  Come quick!” the Doctor said, dashing towards her door.  “Rexicorico-fallipitorious is under attack, and I need someone to help me put together a vinegar-nitrate bomb right now!”  Donna opened the door.

“What’s going on?  Where?  What d’you need me to do?” she said, panicked.  

“I lied,” he said.  “But if you’ll just let me talk to you-”  He was rewarded with a string of obscenities and quite a bit of shouting before she slammed the door shut again.  He smiled.  He’d quite missed the shouting.

...

“Donna, it’s been three days,” he called through the door.  “This is getting ridiculous.  I was trying to save your life, you should be grateful-”

The door swung open, and Donna, her face red from crying, threw a high-heeled shoe at his head and slammed it again.

...

“Donna,” he said softly, “would it help if I apologized?”  Silence.  Then, the door opened, just a crack.

“It would have to be a flipping fantastic apology,” she said.

“There’s a sun exploding, just out the door,” he said.  “It’s really beautiful.  Would you like to come out and see it?”

“All right,” she said reluctantly.  She opened the door.

“I see you fixed the hat,” he said.

“Well, what did you think I was doing in there, crying and eating ice cream?” she said.  “It’s a headband now.  Much more convenient.”

They exited the TARDIS together and sat down on the red dust of the dwarf planet where the Doctor had landed.  The sky was awash with colors, as if someone had knocked over several jars of paint.  Donna gasped slightly, then turned to the Doctor expectantly, folding her arms.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor.  “I didn’t know this would upset you.  I was only trying to save you life.”  Donna stared into the sky, watching the colors rocket across the universe.

“I would’ve been dead anyway,” she said softly.  “Well, I would’ve been alive, I suppose, but I wouldn’t have been me.  I would’ve been a...a walking corpse.  Nothing left.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” said the Doctor.  “There would’ve been plenty left.  You would’ve still been you.  You were the most important woman in the universe before the metacrisis, you know.”

“I know that,” she said, waving her hand.  “But I wouldn’t have remembered.  I’d be stuck on earth running coffee and sassing my manager and wanting to fly away but not knowing how.  I really don’t know if you can even try to understand what that would’ve been like for me.”

“I could start,” said the Doctor quietly.  “I had to go into hiding once.  Lost all my memories.  Went by John Smith.  I was a teacher at a boarding school.  Had a maid bring me my coffee and newspaper in the morning, taught classes, filed paperwork.  That sort of thing.”  Donna snorted.

“You?” she said.  “Teaching at a boarding school?  I’d pay money to see that.”

“Well, you won’t,” said the Doctor.  “Because John Smith is dead now.  Pity.  I rather liked him.”  There was a trace of lingering sadness in his voice.

“So you see it,” said Donna triumphantly.  “He wasn’t you.  He was someone else.  And I don’t want to be anyone else.  I’m fine the way I am, thanks.”

“I’m fine the way you are, too,” said the Doctor.  “Although the hair could use a little...” he made an incomprehensible motion with his hands.

“Well, no one asked you, spaceman,” said Donna.  The Doctor grinned.

“What?  What is it?” she said.

“Spaceman,” he said.  “I like that.”  They sat and watched the sun explode for a while longer.

“You know what really bothers me?” said Donna.  “You didn’t even try.  You could’ve fixed me.  I did it easily enough.  So why not?”

“Well, I’m not in the habit of cannibalizing the TARDIS whenever I need spare parts,” said the Doctor.  “And...I thought you’d be safer.  On earth.”

“Oh, smashing plan,” she said sarcastically.  “On earth, powerless, in London, with hordes of aliens attacking every few days.”

“Anywhere’s safer than with me,” he said.  “You saw them, Donna.  My companions.  I turn people into...into killing machines.  Bombs waiting to go off.”

“You turn them into heroes,” she said.  “We saved the earth, didn’t we?  And we could do it again, if we wanted.  And look, we’re all fine.  Better than fine, really.  We’ve done things most humans only dream of.”

“I suppose you have,��� he said.  “But you should know, I’m very glad things turned out the way they did.  I don’t want to know what would’ve happened if...they hadn’t.  The Time Lord Victorious, bouncing through space all alone, with no one to stop him.”  He shuddered slightly.  Donna snorted.

“Time Lord Victorious,” she said.  “What, next are you going to declare yourself King of the Ood?  You’re not fooling me.  You’re just a spaceman with sticky-up hair and a lot of clever-looking blinky machines.”  He looked angry for a moment, then shook his head and smiled.

“Being a spaceman with a best mate sounds a lot better than being the Time Lord Victorious by myself,” he said.  

“Lucky you’ve got me around, then,” she said.  “Keep you from getting a big head.  I don’t know where you’d be, without me.”

“Nowhere I’d like,” he said.  He hesitated, then said,

“If you want to go somewhere, off by yourself, I won’t stop you,” he said.  “But I’d miss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sunshine,” said Donna.  She leaned closer and put her arm around him, and they watched the stars together in silence.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

ATOTC has given my entire English class a desire to read fanfiction like no other if not just for the desire for some closure and ugh why did the book have to end

Oh my friend, I feel your pain.  Don’t worry, I may soon be filling that void. (Although the fic might not be what you want it to be, I like to make things more sad rather than fix them)

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

So would anyone on here read my A Tale Of Two Cities fanfiction?

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Wrong fucking blog.

So I’m going to take a shot at writing a multichapter Skyejem fic (I still refuse to accept Skimmons).  Here’s the first chapter.

Title: New Messages

Genre: Romance, High School AU

Word Count (so far): 961

Pairing: Skyejem, Fitzsimmons (one-sided)

Summary: High School AU.  When bright overachiever Jemma Simmons gets stuck with punk slacker Skye Bennet as her lab partner, she discovers the other girl is more than she seems.  Romance blossoms between them

Read More

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

This is me, filling a prompt that you sent me over a month ago.  Sorry! :(

I feel like I mischaracterized Asami a bit in this, but oh well.  Enjoy!

Title: Forgotten, But Not Yet Gone

Song: Fred Jones, Part 2 by Ben Folds

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 1,370

Pairing: Bosami

Summary: AU where Asami refuses to go along with Varrick's war profiteering scheme, so he forces her out of business and buys her company.  

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark

There's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall

He has cleared all his things and he's put them in boxes

Things that remind him: 'Life has been good'

Twenty-five years

He's worked at the paper

A man's here to take him downstairs

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones

It's time

“Varrick’s here,” Zhu Li announced unceremoniously.  “You have to vacate the premises now, or he’ll call the police.”  Asami started.  She hadn’t expected them to show up so soon.

“Can I just...have a few minutes to say goodbye?” she said, and she nearly cringed at the pathetic, little-girl voice that came out of her mouth.  Like she was ten years old again, begging to play in the big office while her daddy worked.

“Fine,” said Zhu Li.  “I’ll be back in precisely three minutes.  You had better be gone.”  She left the room.

Asami sank into the leather chair, burying her face in the arm and breathing in the scent.  It smelled like ink and old cigars, the smell that had always hung about her father when she was a child.  She hadn’t visited him in jail once.  And how could she now?  He had probably heard about what she had done to his company from someone.  What would he think of her now?  What would he say?

She remembered how he used to let her play CEO in the office on days when he wasn’t so busy.  How he used to let her wear his old suits and would laugh at how her face screwed up with concentration as she vigorously colored pictures at his desk.

He would hate her for what it.  She had tossed her father out like old clothes, then tried to play CEO for real, only to discover that she still had the maturity of that little girl, only without the support system.  She had destroyed every part of her father’s life, and she would never be able to look him in the face again.  She had no family left.

Sometimes she wished that she hadn’t done what she did.

Zhu Li appeared in the door, the grim reaper in a tight bun and secretarial glasses.

“It’s time,” she said sternly, and Asami left the room, shamefaced, like she’d just been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.  Varrick and Zhu Li had seen through her all along, she realized now.  They’d seen that she was nothing but a silly girl playing dress-up all along.

She walked agonizingly down the stairs, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes, and out the door.  And there, waiting outside the door, was Bolin.

“Finally!  I’ve been waiting all day!” he said earnestly.  “I want to show you something.”

Asami sighed.  She always had trouble saying no to her earnest puppy of a boyfriend, but she really wasn’t in the mood for whatever ostentatious date Bolin had planned for her and paid for with Varrick’s money.  “I just want to go home,” she said.  It was true.  She wanted to go home, to her office in the Future Industries headquarters, but she could never do that again.

“Come on,” he said.  “I had a ton of problems with the shoot today and I have to vent to someone.”  And suddenly, Asami snapped.

“Look, this isn’t about you, okay?” she said sharply.  “I am not in the mood!  Can’t you just listen to me for once?”  Bolin stiffened, and he looked almost scared.

“Sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t mean...yeah.  I was being a jerk,” he said.  Asami softened.

“No, you weren’t,” she said.  “I’m the one who yelled.”

“Yeah, but I probably deserved it,” Bolin said.  “I shouldn’t be rubbing my money in your face like this.”

“It’s all right,” Asami said gently. 

“How about if I make you dinner?” Bolin said.  “To make up for it?”  She pulled Bolin into a soft, gentle kiss, and they melted into each other in front of the factory.

“That would be wonderful,” said Asami.  She took his big, meaty hand in hers, and they walked down the street together.

Sometimes she wished that she hadn’t done what she did.  But...her father might have hurt Bolin, and any number of others.  Asami couldn’t have lived with that on her conscience.

...

Bolin was an excellent cook.  They didn’t bother with the table.  Instead, Asami changed into her comfortable clothes while Bolin cooked noodle soup, and they sat on his big green couch together.  Asami leaned into his huge shoulders as she sipped her soup from the cup, and Bolin wrapped his arm awkwardly around her slender waist.  He kissed the top of her head.   They were the same, really, both just children thrown into the adult world too soon.

“I know you don’t want to talk about your company,” he said.  “But you do have a plan to get it back, right?”

“No,” Asami said, and she could feel the hot tears building up behind her eyes.  “I don’t think I should.  I mean, look at me.  Do you think I look like I could run a company?”

“I think you look like you could do anything you want,” Bolin said.  “And I think you were the best CEO ever.  You’re smarter than Varrick and his stupid moustache.”  The admiration in his voice was so sincere that Asami couldn’t help but believe it.  That was what she loved about Bolin.  Everything he said was as honest as the earth itself.  He wasn’t like Mako, who would pretend he loved you as long as it suited him so he didn’t have to look the truth in its stern, unforgiving eye.  He was immature that way. If Bolin said he believed in her, he meant it.  

“You don’t understand,” she said.  “What it’s like to fail as badly as I did.”

“You don’t think I do?” Bolin joked.  “What do you think I do every day?”  And Asami remembered the crushed expression on Bolin’s face whenever he lost a pro-bending round, the fear in his eyes when he hadn’t known how to break up with Eska, even the disappointment in his voice whenever he lost a fight with Mako.  And he still kept trying.  He woke up every day and put everything he had into everything he did.  Bolin, big, boisterous, childish Bolin, was stronger than anyone realized, including herself.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she began to wonder what Varrick would do to her employees.  Future Industries had always been one of the few places that made an effort to hire an equal amount of benders and non-benders, although there were more places doing so now.  Even though Amon himself had been terrible, the movement he had started had continued on after his death, and brought a lot of good to the city.  Still, though, Asami had gotten to know these people.  Would Varrick fire them?  Would he cut their wages?  Or replace them with benders?  And what would he do with the development labs?  Would his inventions be able to match those of Asami and her fathers’?  Suddenly, Asami was furious that this silly, impulsive man had control over the state-of-the-art labs and top-of-the-line scientists that he probably had no idea how to use.  Bolin was right.  She was smarter than Varrick, and his moustache was stupid.

She still felt like a child, but she realized now that Bolin felt that way, too.  Probably most people did.  Everyone failed.  The difference was who kept trying, who managed to claw their way back to the top.  Asami tilted her head upwards and kissed Bolin on the cheek.

“You’re right,” she murmured, slipping her hand under his shirt.  “I’ll think of a way to get my company back.”  She lovingly kissed Bolin’s neck, and he moaned slightly.   “Tomorrow.”

Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement

Projecting some slides onto a plain white

Canvas and traces it

Fills in the spaces

He turns off the slides and it doesn't look right

Yeah, and all of these bastards

Have taken his place

He's forgotten but not yet gone

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

This is my project for when I'm done with NaNoWriMo.

Can you fantastic writers out there make more Skye/Simmons (Skyejem?) fics, plllleeeeaaaassseee?!?! I need it.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Okay I've been busy this week but I swear I'll get to these this weekend!

Send Me an LoK Ship

And I’ll write a fic based on the first song that comes up when I set my iPod to shuffle.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

(Thank you lovely anon!  You made my week! :D  This one is kind of messy though sorry)

Title: You Gotta Live It Every Day

Song: Badlands by Bruce Springsteen

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 1,336

Pairing: Korrasami

Summary: AU where Korra didn't get her bending back at the end of Season One.  Asami helps Korra live her life again.

Warnings: Depression

Send me an LoK ship and I’ll write a fic based on the first song that comes up on my iPod.

I don't give a damn,

for the same old played out scenes,

I don't give a damn,

for just the in betweens,

Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul,

I want control right now

Talk about a dream,

try to make it real

You wake up in the night,

with a fear so real,

Spend your life waiting,

for a moment that just don't come,

Well, don't waste your time waiting,

  I believe in the love that you gave me,

I believe in the hope that can save me,

I believe in the faith

and I pray, that someday it may raise me,

Above these badlands

Korra refused to get out of bed for two weeks after her bending was taken.  She wouldn’t talk to anyone, not even her parents.  Mako and Bolin tried to help, but gave up and left after a few days.  No one could help.

            Asami stayed.  She helped Senna cook and left the meals on Korra’s bedside table three times a day.  She cleaned out the barely-touched dishes afterwards.  She sometimes went into Korra’s room and opened the window, tried to talk to her.  Tried to let in some light.  Korra never responded.

            Once, she heard Korra having a nightmare and went into her room.  Korra had forced her out the door, screaming and sobbing.  Asami understood.  Sometimes it was better to be left alone.

            So she cooked and worried and waited, and every day, she was more and more afraid of losing Korra. 

            That was before Chief Beifong came.  It was another cold, sunny day when her ship pulled into the harbor.  She exchanged pleasantries with Korra’s parents, then pulled Asami aside.

            “How is she?” Beifong had asked.  She didn’t wait to hear the answer before heading towards Korra’s bedroom.  The look on Asami’s face had been enough. 

…

                        “All right, Korra, what’s this about?” said Chief Beifong, marching into Korra’s room.  Korra didn’t respond.

            “Korra, answer me,” said Beifong. “Sit up and tell me what’s wrong.”  Korra sat up suddenly.

            “What do you think is wrong?” she said, almost hysterically.  “I lost my bending!  Amon TOOK it and I can’t get it back!”

            “You can still airbend,” Beifong said reasonably.

            “Oh, because that makes up for everything!” Korra said.  “You don’t get it.  When I’m bending, it’s like…like…”

            “Like you’re touching the entire world at once,” Beifong said quietly, with a pained look on her face.  “Like you’re connected to everything.  Like you have a purpose.”

            The realization hit Korra like a boulder to the gut.

            “Yeah,”  she said softly.  “Yeah.  I’m sorry.  I just…”

            “I know,” Beifong said.  Korra let a small sob escape.  “Let it out,” said Beifong.  “Trust me, it helps.”  Korra collapsed into Beifong’s arms, shaking.

            After a few minutes, Biefong said,

            “Korra.  You can still airbend.”

            “I was the Avatar,” said Korra.  “It won’t be the same.”

            “You’re still the Avatar,” said Beifong.  “And you can make your life better.  I have faith in you.  Now change your clothes and take a bath.  You smell like polar bear dog dung.”  She got up and started to leave.

            “Thanks,” said Korra.

            “Anytime, Avatar,” said Beifong.  “Oh, and be nice to Asami.”

…

            Getting up in the morning was still a struggle sometimes.  There were still days when she wanted to roll over and sleep forever, but they got less and less frequent as time went on.

            She still wasn’t ready to go back to Republic City.  She couldn’t deal with the questions and speculations and responsibilities.

            And as time went on, she realized just how much she relied on Asami’s presence.  She’d been crushed when she found out Mako, Bolin, and Tenzin had returned to the city, and when Beifong had to leave after a few days, she felt even worse.  But Asami stayed.  Asami was always at breakfast in the morning and at dinner at night.  If she needed someone to talk to, Asami was always willing to listen. 

Asami was the only person who motivated Korra sometimes.  If she was having trouble with a particular airbending move, she thought about how impressed Asami would be if she mastered it.  If she didn’t feel like trying to learn something new (like when her mom tried to take her penguin-sledding), Asami could usually convince her to do it.  If she didn’t want to get out of bed, she cajoled herself by thinking about how disappointed Asami would be.  Sometimes, late at night when she was tired and her inhibitions were low, Korra admitted to herself that her feelings for Asami were more than platonic.  But when she woke up, she always convinced herself that she was being stupid.

…

            Asami hadn’t stopped grinning for weeks.  She couldn’t help being happy every time she saw Korra eating, or talking to her parents, or trying to teach herself airbending.  Everything Korra did made Asami’s heart swell up with pride.  She’d secretly had feelings for Korra for a long time, but never as intense as they were now.

            Which was why even though she knew she had to, she didn’t want to leave.  The South Pole was beautiful, but she felt awkward and out of place here.  No roads, no machines, nothing modern at all.  They still had hand-lit stoves, for crying out loud!  And besides, she’d been getting reports on Future Industries, and profits were sky-diving.  She needed to fix things.

            She and Korra were busy cooking when she broached the subject.

            “How did you manage to burn seaweed stew?” Asami said, coughing from the smoke.  “It’s the easiest recipe we have.”

            Korra picked the pot up off the stove.

            “I never thought I’d need to know this stuff,” she said defensively.  “There’s plenty of people to help me.”

            “Honestly, if your parents weren’t here, I would be terrified of leaving you alone in two days,” Asami said.  “You wouldn’t be able to feed yourself.  Hey, careful with-ow!”  Korra had dropped the stew pot, and it had spilled onto Asami’s feet.

            “You can’t leave!” she said.

            “I have to,” Asami said gently, touching Korra’s shoulder gently.  (Having to stand on one foot lessened the effect somewhat).  “You don’t need me here anymore.”

            “Yes I do!” Korra said frantically.  “I’ll prove it!  I’ll…”

            “Korra,” Asami said gently.  “I have faith in you.   I know you can pull through this by yourself.  I can’t fix you.  Okay?”

            Korra nodded.

…

            Two days later, Korra approached Asami as she waited for her ship to finish loading.

            “Hey,” said Korra.  “I’ve been thinking.  I think I relied on you so much that I forgot you had a life outside of me, and I’m sorry.”  She took a deep breath.  “So I’m coming back to Republic City with you.”  She saw hope briefly light up Asami’s face, and that gave Korra all the confidence she needed.

            “But you said you didn’t want to,” said Asami.  “I don’t want to make you do something you’re not ready for.”

            “I am ready.  I think I’ve been ready for a long time,” said Korra.  “Mostly because of you.  And that’s the other thing.  Thank you.  For everything.”  Korra knew her words weren’t enough.  They would never convey exactly how much Asami had helped just by being there for her, and having faith in her.  But when she looked into Asami’s large, lovely eyes, Korra knew she understood.

            “I would do it again,” Asami said.  “In a heartbeat.” 

            That’s when Korra kissed her.  And for just a moment, Korra felt like she was touching the entire world at once.

For the ones who had a notion,

A notion deep inside,

That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive

I wanna find one face that ain't looking through me

I wanna find one place,

I wanna spit in the face of these badlands

  Badlands, you gotta live it everyday,

Let the broken hearts stand

As the price you've gotta pay,

We'll keep pushin' till it's understood,

and these badlands start treating us good.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Title: Not Just Anybody

Song: Help! by The Beatles

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 983

Pairing: Bolin/Azula

Summary: AU.  Bolin is the illegitimate son of an earthbender and a Fire Nation general, and one of Azula's consorts.

Warnings: (This one's kind of dark) Unhealthy relationship, mentions of noncon (not with Bolin though)

Edit: Whoops I forgot the actual thing

Send me an LoK ship and I'll write a fic based on the first song that comes up on my iPod.

Help, I need somebody

Help, not just anybody

Help, you know I need someone, help

  When I was younger, so much younger than today

I never needed anybody's help in any way

But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured

Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors

              The room was black, the sumptuous sheets red.  The sun was rising in the window, casting a pale pink light on Azula, who lay naked and clutching the blanket around her body, her black eyes fixed on a certain point on the ceiling.  Her face was expressionless and cold, betraying none of the red-hot emotions that smoldered within.

            She cast a quick, casual glance towards Bolin.  The sun’s rays played across his toned body like careless fingers.  The glare from the sun seemed to cause him discomfort, because he groaned and rolled over onto his stomach.

            Azula had several consorts, of course, but Bolin was by far her favorite.  He was the bastard son of a general who had been stationed in the Earth Kingdom.  As a reward for her accomplishments in the war, she had been given a position at court, and the Firelord had turned a blind eye to her second child.  Bolin had grown up in the Firelord’s court, but Azula had rarely seen him.  She hadn’t been allowed to associate with such riffraff.

            As Azula quickly learned, being the Princess of the Fire Nation meant she could bring any man she wanted to her bed.  Everyone knew the consequences of refusal.  Bolin was different.  The fool was willing, even excited, as if what they had was a real relationship, instead of a quiet, secret service he performed in the dead of night. 

            Which was why when Ty Lee and Mei betrayed her two days ago, Azula had rushed home with him and only him on her mind.  She needed to feel that control over him, to prove to herself that she still had power over something.  More importantly, she needed the illusion of closeness, the false intimacy she and Bolin shared.  She needed to get rid of these desperate feelings that curled in her stomach and crawled into her head and ate at her like worms eating a corpse.

            The sun rose higher in the sky.  Next to her, Bolin groaned. 

            “I see you’re awake,” she said brusquely.  He nodded and tried to nestle against her.  She shoved him away.  Pathetic, she thought.  How could anyone be that desperate?

            “Do you know why I sent for you?” she said idly.

            “You couldn’t stay away from me?” Bolin mumbled.

            “Don’t be an idiot, Bolin,” Azula said.  She was quiet for a while.  Then:

            “My friends betrayed me,” she said quietly.

            “’Thas nice,” Bolin said drowsily.

            “And I don’t care,” she said.  “I don’t need those little twits to get what I want.  They were assets, nothing more.”  Bolin nodded into his pillow.

            “It still hurt,” Azula said.  “A little.”  Bolin didn’t respond, and she hoped he hadn’t heard her.  What on earth was she thinking, betraying her weakness to some earthbender’s soft-headed bastard? Not that he was clever enough to use it, of course.  Then he threw his arm around her, trying to pull her close again.  She pushed him away, but more gently this time.

            “I have to go,” Azula said finally.  “I have a lot to accomplish today.  See yourself out when you’re finished lazing about in my bed.  Oh, and last night was very satisfactory.”

            Bolin nodded.  “Love you,” he murmured.  At once, every feeling she’d kept tamped down erupted.  Not just about Mai and Ty Lee.  About Zuko, her father, her uncle, her mother.  Especially her mother.  And for an instant, she felt that need she’d been suppressing, the need for someone who loved her unconditionally, who didn’t think she was a monster.  It was weak and pathetic and all-consuming, but she was able to squash it and regain control in a matter of seconds.

            She sat up, grabbed Bolin by the hair, and pulled him sharply upwards.

            “Don’t say that to me,” she said, softly and dangerously, almost hissing.  “Not unless you mean it.  Understand?”  He nodded mutely, terror in his wide, naïve green eyes.  She dropped him back onto the bed, rose, and put on her red silk robe.

            “I did mean it,” he said softly as she tied her sash. 

            “You think you did,” she replied, but she felt something in her chest.  Something warm.

            Of course he thought he loved her.  He didn’t know her.  That’s the only way anyone could love her.  Mother had known her, and Mother had feared and hated Azula more than anyone.  That was the source of the strange affection she had for Bolin, she realized.  He didn’t see anything but what he wanted to see.

            She didn’t love him.  She didn’t believe she was capable.  Most of the time, she didn’t mind that.  Love was pathetic, and made you weak.  Mai could tell you that, rotting in her cell.  Other times, though, it terrified her, because what made you human, if not love?  What separated you from the wild, raging beast within?

            She dismissed her fear.  Bolin thought she was human.  That was enough.

            She rang for her servants and stepped out the door, then turned her head and looked back into the room.

            “Bolin?” she said quietly.

            “Huh?” he said, startled.

            “Thank you,” she said, and softly shut the door.

  And now my life has changed in oh so many ways

My independence seems to vanish in the haze

But every now and then I feel so insecure

I know that I just need you like I've never done before

  Help me if you can, I'm feeling down

And I do appreciate you being round

Help me get my feet back on the ground

Won't you please, please help me

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

fainquisitivefeminist:

(OMG you picked my OTP!!! Thank you!)

Title: And She’s Not Coming Back

Song: “Gone To The Movies” by Semisonic

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 1,136

Pairing: Korrasami

Summary: Sometimes you end up hurting the people you love the most.

Warnings: None

(Sorry it’s breakup fic, the fanfiction gods pick the song not me.  Speaking of which, I would highly recommend listening to the song, it’s great).

Send me an LoK ship and I’ll write a fic based on the first song that comes up when I set my iPod to shuffle.

Read More

Wrong blog whoops!

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Send Me an LoK Ship

And I'll write a fic based on the first song that comes up when I set my iPod to shuffle.

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Signature

Word count: 1041

Ship: Melinda/Natasha 

Characters: Melinda May, Natasha Romanoff

Rating: PG

Timeline: pre-Agents of SHIELD

Summary: Natasha teaches Melinda her signature move.

read on AO3

“Your ulterior motive for teaching me your signature move isn’t nearly as hidden as you think it is,” Melinda said between chin-ups.

            Natasha smiled up at her from where she sat stretching on the mat below, watching the agility as Melinda switched from arm to arm, careful control allowing her to pull herself up with one hand free of the bar, and enjoying the soft noises the effort of the exercise drew out of her.

Read More

[halfwaydecentfanfiction]

Title: Firmamentum

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Genre: Angst, Romance, Cuddle!fic

Word Count: 1,471

Pairings: Korra/Asami/Bolin

Summary: It's been a rough few weeks for Bolin, and his girlfriends want to help.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

As usual, Asami noticed first.

Since they’d met, Asami was always the one to notice the little things about Bolin.  Asami didn’t blame Korra and Mako for not noticing things, really.  Mako had his job with the police, and Korra had plenty to keep her busy, being the avatar.  Asami was busy, too, with trying to keep her company off the ground, but she managed to make time.  Time to notice the way his face lit up when he heard a bad pun, the slurping sound he made when he ate Water Tribe noodles, the songs he hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening.

Time to notice exactly how terrified Bolin had been of Eska, and why.

And now, time to notice that Bolin hadn’t been sleeping.

Looking at him across the table in the crowded restaurant, she could see that Bolin was trying to act like nothing was wrong.  The three lovers were sitting around a small, circular table.  Asami was on his left, and on his right sat Korra, who was in the middle of a long, gesture-filled rant about something to do with Unalaq and the Cultural Center bombing.  There was a lot of pressure on her, and she didn’t seem to be coping with it very well, which worried Asami.  Normal teenagers could afford to be stressed, but if Korra made a hasty decision under pressure, she could potentially disrupt the stability of the entire world.  Bolin was resting his head in his fists, unconsciously rubbing his face every few minutes.  There were faint dark circles under his eyes.

“So I need to send in troops NOW!” Korra finished, pounding the table.  Bolin started, and Asami winced inwardly. 

“You agree with me, right?” Korra said, looking at Asami imploringly.  

“I think you have some very good points,” Asami said reasonably.  “But shouldn’t we try to find a peaceful solution first?”  Korra’s forehead crinkled into a stormy scowl that Asami secretly found adorable.

“You don’t-” she began, but the waiter came by just then to pick up the check.  Asami gently guided her furious girlfriend and despondent boyfriend out of the restaurant.  The sun had nearly set, and the sky was a black-and-purple bruise.  All was quiet as the three walked down the street.

“Yeah, sure, peace is great,” Korra continued loudly.  “But it’s time for action!  They attacked us first, and-are you listening to me?” 

“Bolin?” said Asami, gently putting her hand on his shoulder (another thing Asami had noticed was that Bolin didn’t like being touched without warning anymore).  “Are you all right?”  He turned towards her, a huge grin on his face that would have fooled most people, but seemed a touch manic to Asami.

“Yep!  Yep.  I’m fine.  Super-duper-fine.  Never been better.  In fact-ow!”  Bolin had run into a lamppost.  Now Korra was looking at him, too, with her arms crossed.

“Bolin, what’s going on?” Korra demanded.  Bolin sighed.

“I’m really fine,” he said.  “I just haven’t been sleeping very much.  Mako hasn’t been home much at night, and I’ve been having some pretty crazy dreams.”

“Her?” Korra said.  Bolin nodded, standing under the bulbous orb of the lamppost.  For just a second, Asami saw the deep fear on Bolin’s wan, shadowed face.  Then he smiled again and stepped out of the light.  Korra’s scowl deepened.

“That’s it, I’m going to destroy my creepy cousin,” said Korra. Asami sighed inwardly.  She knew that Korra was angry at Eska, and even more angry at herself for not noticing what Bolin was going through.  She suspected that Korra had purposely ignored the signs because she was angry at Bolin.  Even though they’d all agreed to an open relationship, Korra could be a little jealous.  But Asami wished she could get it through to Korra that her anger wasn’t helping.  Asami knew that all Bolin really wanted was for everything to be back to normal.  The problem was getting him to confront his problems without constantly rubbing what had happened in his face.  Korra wasn’t even trying to strike that balance.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Asami asked.

“Nope.  No no no.  Perfectly fine.  Hey, is that Chief Beifong?  Hey!  Hi!” Bolin said.  He began frantically waving his arm above his head.  Chief Beifong’s facial expression didn’t change.  She approached the three.

“I need to talk to you two,” she said, pointing to Korra and Asami.  “It’s about the Cultural Center bombing.  And it’ll probably take a while.”

“Shoot,” said Korra.  “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” said Bolin, looking put out.  “See you then.”  He turned and walked back to his house.

...

“I’m glad that’s over,” said Korra as they walked out of the police station.

“You can say that again,” Asami yawned.  “Let’s go home and get some sleep.  That meeting took way too long.”  It was nearly midnight.  The stars shone down, tiny pinpricks in the thick, suffocating cloth of the night sky.  

“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this,” Korra said softly and nervously.  “This Avatar thing.  I had the bending down, but now, there’s all this political stuff that I can’t handle.  I...I need help.”  Asami slipped her slender hand into Korra’s.

“I’ll help,” Asami said earnestly.  “Any time you need something, I’ll be there.  I promise.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Korra said with a small smile.  The two walked together in silence, weaving in and out of the flickering streetlight.

Suddenly, Korra slapped her forehead.

“We left our pajamas at Bolin’s last night,” she said.  “I only have the one pair.  We’ll have to go get them.”

“It seemed like Mako was going to stay at the station for a while, so Bolin will be the only one there,” said Asami.  “I just hope we don’t wake him up.  Especially with his nightmare problem.”

“Yeah,” said Korra.  Then, hesitantly, she said, “Do you think it was my fault?  For not warning him about Eska?”  Asami took Korra’s hand and squeezed it.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.  “We all could have done things differently.”  Especially me, Asami thought.  I should have noticed sooner.

A light was on in Bolin’s room.

“I guess we won’t have to worry about waking him up,” said Korra.  They opened the door nervously.

“Gah!” Bolin yelled, leaping off the couch.  His eyes were red and watery, and he flushed when he saw the two.  “Sorry!  Sorry, I thought--I was bored, so I decided to sit on the couch, because I--I wasn’t crying!  I wasn’t...”  Bolin suddenly fell back onto the couch, hyperventilating.

“Hey!” said Korra.  Asami raised her hand to quiet her before she could say anything else, then sat down next to Bolin.

“It’s all right,” she murmured.  “I’m right here.  You’re safe.  It’s just us.” Following Asami’s lead, Korra sat down on the other side of Bolin.

After several minutes, Bolin’s breathing slowed.

“Yeah.  I was crying,” Bolin said.

“Babe, if something’s bothering you, you should tell us,” Asami said, ruffling Bolin’s hair.  “I promise we won’t be mad.”  Bolin took a deep breath and nodded.

“So?  Are you going to tell us or what?” said Korra.

“It’s just that I live really close to the ocean,” said Bolin shakily.  “And sometimes when I’m alone at night, I get worried.”

“How about we stay with you tonight?” said Korra.  “The three of us would be more than a match for her.”

“Really?” Bolin said, his face lighting up.  Asami shrugged.

“Why not?” she said.  “Our pajamas are already here.”

“Wow,” Bolin said, running his fingers through his hair.  “I really appreciate this, guys.”

“Anything for the best boyfriend ever,” said Korra, playfully nudging him.   

...

Bolin, the rock that kept the house from falling down, lay in the center of the bed, his arms over his head as he snored loudly.  His smooth, round face looked younger than ever, and he wore a tiny smile.  He was clearly enjoying the first good night’s sleep he’d had in a long time.

Korra, the stalwart, pulsing heart, lay to his left on her stomach.  For the first time in a while, her face was smooth and unweighted, and her closed eyes lent her a strange vulnerability.  Her dark, toned arms were clenched protectively around Bolin’s sleeping form.

To his right lay Asami, the noticer, the planner, and the dreamer.  Her face was smooth and serene, and her flowing black hair was splayed about her head like a starfish.  She snuggled tightly into Bolin’s side, making small, contented, murmuring noises every so often.

Tomorrow, they would have to face the world again.  Tonight, though, they cuddled together in bed, safe in the knowledge that whatever the world brought them, they would face it together.