#Fic title meme

[aurumacadicus]

For the fic title thing: Tony Stark's baby with stuckony?

YOOOOOOO I LOVED THIS TITLE IMMEDIATELY

Tony Stark's Baby

It had been a great scandal, Tony Stark appearing at his parent's table with news that he was with child. He'd been groomed for royalty. Perhaps not in the direct family line, but a cousin or niece, perhaps. He had the breeding, the finishing, the temperament. He would have made a good husband.

Now he was wasted. That was the word Howard had shouted at him. Wasted. As if that was all he'd raised his son for, to give to someone else. Then again... maybe he had. Tony had never really talked about him with warmth and affection.

If Howard had had any for him, it died that night when he gave Tony the choice to abort or leave. And no one had seen Tony since.

"I wonder if he ever told Howard who the father might be," Steve mused, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. They'd been riding for quite some time since they'd left the Stark estate.

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Do you think that Howard would have let us leave the property alive if he knew it was one of us?"

Steve took a moment to really think of his answer. "No, you're right. He would have tried to kill at least one of us." He dropped his hand with a sigh. "I thought Howard was different."

"Yeah, I think his title went to his head," Bucky grumbled. He lifted his head a little. "Looks like we're almost there."

"It was nice of his ma to let him live on her property," Steve said, then grimaced when Bucky shot him an unimpressed frown. "I mean, obviously it's the least she could do for her son and grandchild, but I'm surprised Howard allowed it."

"They had a written agreement that this would be her property to control," Bucky reminded him. He pulled his horse in closer to Steve's, unable to help the smug smirk that crossed his lips as he quietly added, "Heard Howard tried to get her to kick Tony out anyway. Every single servant left the manor that night. I heard it was because they didn't want to be witnesses if Maria killed him."

Steve nodded a little. That made sense. Maria hadn't been the best mother to Tony, but he couldn't imagine her looking at her pregnant child and deciding both her son and his child should suffer, even if she could only bring herself to see the baby but once.

They made it over the hill and stopped to let their horses rest a bit from the climb. There was a little farm in the valley below. Self-sufficient, Clint had called it. No profit. He could grow enough for them to eat, but not enough that he could make more than a few coins with his spare vegetables. A kind gift, but also a punishment.

"Well," Steve said after a moment. "No point putting this off."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed quietly, and they nudged their horses forward again.

There was no one outside to meet them, but they hadn't really expected there to be. Tony couldn't afford to hire help, so any that he got were beholden to his mother, and they hadn't really ingratiated themselves to her, if the way her eyes went sharp with realization after their careful questioning were any indication. The yard had a few toys, but otherwise was well-kept. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

Steve and Bucky fussed with their horses a bit, then gave up on wasting time, putting off the inevitable. Either Tony would accept them, or he wouldn't. If he didn't, that was his right. They had gotten word about the scandal three years ago on the front lines, and maybe they could have come back then, if they'd pushed it. But Tony hadn't asked them to come home, so they didn't.

Steve knocked, then stepped over to press his shoulder to Bucky's. Bucky pressed closer.

The door opened, and Tony was there, tipping his head back to look up at them.

"You're late," Tony said, and then, before they could respond, he turned to step back inside. "Put your horses away. Supper's almost ready, and Harley will be waking from his nap."

"We can stay?" Bucky asked, unable to help his surprise.

Tony glanced back over his shoulder at them. "If you're taking responsibility," he answered carefully.

"We'll scream to the rooftops he's ours," Steve offered immediately.

"And that we plan to bond into a triad," Bucky added.

Tony tipped his head thoughtfully. "...Put your horses away," he repeated. "And if you're nice to me, maybe I'll give you a welcome home kiss."

"Fucking move," Steve said, throwing Bucky to the ground, and Bucky squawked in offense as he chased after him.

[cabezadeperro]

Fic title meme! "iron bars and prison breaks" please!

hi! thanks for sending an ask!

i feel like this is very obvious, but i immediately thought of papillon but with clones lmao. first i thought of dogma--we don't know what happened to him after umbara after all--but then i remembered that slick exists.

let's be real, he probably was decommissioned (i just can't picture the republic spending money in keeping clones like him alive), but if he wasn't--well. he didn't seem the kind of person to sit and wait in a cell. so: a story about him breaking out of prison, or trying to, at the same time order 66 takes place. will slick and his allies make it out? will they be able to escape order 66? will they escape one prison and find themselves in a different, much worse one?

If you make up titles (and pairings!) for stories I didn’t write, I will respond with details of those non-written stories. Just think of the possibilities!

[thetragicallynerdy]

Hi, I'm here from the tealoranges tag! Fic title meme: Are You Going to Scarborough Fair?

Alright alright, I finally had the brains to think about this and write something! (For those who haven't heard of it, this meme is that you send me a fic title, and I sketch out the fic I think would match it. I am not accepting further prompts for this meme at this time.)

I know that this one would go really nicely as a like, farmers market au, but hear me out: post-war au and farmer’s market au. Because the canticle aspect of Simon & Garfunkle’s version of Scarborough Fair always, always makes me think about war (because, y’know, it’s about war). But, because it’s Jim and Olu, and I really wouldn’t ever write an actual war type fic, lets go with “Canon time - Jim, returning from their holy mission, and Oluwande, who sells his wares at the market.”

When I started typing this I was going to say it was more vibes than plot (the Vibes being an exhausted Jim who’s killed a whole lot of men and then returned home to find that they’re still not at peace, and then they meet Oluwande) but now there’s like 1000+ words of plot so here u go:

Jim never made it to Nassau as their first stop in their mission. They don’t meet Oluwande, and they instead spend ten-fifteen years tracking down every last member of the Siete Gallos. Alfeo de la Vaca is not their first. He’s closer to their last, which is the main reason that they keep at it so long – a) there is no one to encourage them to stop, and b) they haven’t killed the one that matters yet.

Somewhere along the way, they have exactly one run in with Blackbeard and Stede, who we can presume are still doing their romance off to the side. They see a handsome Black man with a teal earring on the crew who catches their eye – but then they forget about him.

Oluwande, meanwhile, got out of Spanish Jackie’s for other reasons, about the same time as he would’ve in canon. He finds Stede, and has a rather successful career in piracy before he finally settles down and buys a home. He learns how to make jewelry, and sells it. Tiny trinkets, that sort of thing, to keep his hands busy. For some reason, he really liked St. Augustine the last time they were there. He settles down.

Jim finally finishes their hit list. They return to St. Augustine, scarred and hardened and hoping to find some semblance of peace, because all they feel is a hollowness in their chest and a bone-deep weariness. They come home to a home that’s still empty and ruined, overgrown after decades of neglect.

Whether or not Nana is still alive is up to you. If she is, her exuberance over Jim being done their mission grates against the disenchantment they’re feeling. If she’s not, there’s a point of grief over ‘she was the one I was doing this for, and she’s not even here to see it.’

Either way – Jim is not doing great. They try and fix up the farm, but mainly fix up the house enough to live in, and wallow. The Beautiful Life they were promised afterwards hasn’t happened, and everything feels like dust. Very ‘returning from war and finding yourself at odds with the world’ type vibes.

But then they wander into the market one morning when they’re coming in to, I dunno, buy food, and they happen across a tiny stall, run by a beautiful man with a teal earring. He sells jewelry, and it feels so frivolous, so unnecessary, but they can’t help but stop and look at it. Jewelery isn’t even their thing, but they can’t help but reach out and touch the intricate little earrings.

Oluwande recognizes them. And, in true Oluwande fashion, blurts out “holy shit, I know you.” This is not immediately a concern. Most people in town know them, by rumour at the very least, of the Jimenez child who lived. It’s a small place. However, then he says “we met on uh – The Gentleman Pirate’s ship, you killed that guy –“ and Jim gets very defensive very fast. And maybe runs away a little, wondering if they need to just pack up and go because they don’t really want people recognizing them for all the blood they’ve spilled.

(And then they remember the handsome man with the teal earring, and kick themself a little for not being able to place him immediately. He's still just as handsome, all these years later.)

Later that day Oluwande shows up at their door, with an apology on his lips and a small earring in his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you off,” he says sheepishly. “I just got excited. Not many people here that know what I used to do.”

Jim reluctantly lets him in, and offers him a drink. They talk. Or, Oluwande talks, and Jim listens.

It’s not love at first meeting. But so many people in town avoid talking to Jim, and he doesn’t seem to care about the blood they’ve spilled. Hell, he was a pirate. He’s spilled just as much. So a tentative friendship is born.

They start seeking him out. Wandering to the market just to talk and pretend to browse his wares. They keep the earring he gave them, but their ears aren’t pierced, so they don’t do anything with it. They start bringing small food treats that they pick up at the market, so they have an excuse to sit and share it. Oluwande brightens every time they show up. He starts having tea or something else to drink ready every time, to share with the food.

Jim keeps trying to fix up the farm. But every time they do it just feels pointless, and makes them sad. They don’t really need a job for the money, but they’re starting to get restless, like they need something to do.

They take up whittling instead. It’s hard, and they cut themself more than they have since they first learned how to handle knives. Their first clumsy attempt at a bird gets given to Oluwande. So does their second, their third. A few more become toys, given to the family down the road. It takes time, but they get good.

“You should let me sell these,” Oluwande muses, running fingers over an intricate crocodile. “They’re really good.”

Jim shrugs. “I don’t really need the money.”

He raises an eyebrow and nods at his jewelry. “Neither do I. Why do you think they’re so cheap?”

Jim lets Oluwande sell their carvings. It’s a good partnership.

Eventually they kiss him. Of course they do. He’s handsome and sweet and the only person who makes them feel like a person again, and not the assassin they’ve become. The only person who teases them about their hat and their long coat and tells them they’re not as scary as they think they are.

And it’s good. It’s so good, this little romance. Easy, in a way very few things in their life have been.

A few weeks, maybe months after they add romance to the mix, Jim admits, late one evening, how much they hate living at the farm. How they still think about leaving, all the time.

“Could move in with me,” Oluwande whispers, voice just audible from where Jim is plastered to his back. “I’ve got the space.”

Jim leaves the next morning and tells him they need to think about it, promising they’re not running away, that they just need time to think. They go, and sit on their farm, and then disappear into the woods like they did as a child. When they come back two days later, it still feels just as empty and barren and broken as it did when they first set foot back in St. Augustine, just as lost as it did when they were a child. The healing they were hoping for is happening, but it’s not happening on this farm.

So they pack up all of their things (there aren’t many), and walk to the village. The sun is just setting, and there’s a candle already burning in Oluwande’s window. There’s no hesitation before they knock.

Oluwande opens the door, and sees them, and their bag. He smiles and holds the door open wider.

“Welcome home.”

That’s it! Look I will never actually write this, so if anyone ever wants to write the thing, have at! (Just give me credit for the idea, and please for the love of god send it to me so I can read it XD)

Anyway thanks for the prompt anon, this was fun!! Sorry it took me a while XD

[fille-lioncelle]

Title game: Your biggest mistake (hookhausen)

Danhausen's been making a lot of mistakes recently. The treacherous thing is that they don't really look like mistakes as he's making them, it's only when looking back that it turns out he should have probably paid more attention.

Like talking to - or rather about - Hook again. It wasn't meant to be anything but now people are looking at him like it is. Hook sometimes looks at him like it is. Danhausen's not actually sure what he wants it to be, if anything.

Hence, mistake. Or at least a bit hasty.

Then again maybe the bigger mistake was having stopped talking to Hook in the first place. Which could possibly be eclipsed by talking to him at all. It's landed Danhausen in this weird no-man's-land where people sort of expect him to show up alongside Hook, but also don't. Where they expect him to be funny and sort of useless but get frustrated about it too. Maybe attaching himself to Hook before he ever even debuted was the mistake.

Probably though the biggest mistake of them all was hooking up with a 19 year old ring rat backstage at a boring indie gig and not realising who he was. He could probably be forgiven for that if he hadn't done it again four years later without ever connecting the dots until Hook spelled it out for him.

Yeah. That one probably takes the cake.

[darkmasterofcupcakes]

Fic title: Wish you were here

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Summary: Queen Angella is usually able to distract herself from grief by focusing on her duties as a monarch and a mother. But when the nights are quiet, she can't help but think about her greatest wish - to have Micah by her side again.

[topaz-eyes]

Give me a title for a fic, a fandom*, and a character or pairing, and I will write a snippet (a few hundred words) for that fic.

*Fandoms: Everything Everywhere All At Once, Elementary, Emergency!, Dead Poets Society, Strike Back (s6-s8 only), X Company, Lie to Me, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood, House MD

[sapphoshands]

Under the Raven's Wing

oh this is definitely a laura de mille/rita farr fic. (she's a bird, i'm sorry, it's just the way things are.) i think it's actually set not very much further into the future from where we are at the midseason break so i am gonna spoiler cut

so this fic is definitely about them having had a breakthrough in their relationship and then going back to the bureau and working through some of the shit that came up there. and it starts with rita finally properly mourning for malcom and letting him go and laura comforting her, because of all the horrible guilt she still carries and her yearning for forgiveness. but as it progresses and rita starts being able to see past herself, she recognises the terrible grief in laura and connects it to what they did at the bureau and how much laura has been carrying and how many people she lost. and rita finally sort of fumblingly - not apologises, but tries to tell laura that all the blame rita put on her was wrong and laura shouldn't have to carry it any more. and rita knows malcom's never coming back but it would be a greater horror if she really did lose laura forever. and it all becomes quite mutually emotional and probably laura says something entirely devastating about how she still feels like there's a giant chasm inside of her, and rita very tenderly touches her cheek and looks her in the eyes and says sweetly, 'i can expand to fit practically any space.'

[saturatedsinset]

For the made up fic title meme: Shatter

oh mattkenny naturally around bucks gl OR actually around the upcoming reunion. kota comes back kenny's convinced everything good exists in the world again matt feels like he's been stabbed in the heart. again.

[capitaletele]

I have some annoying things to do over the next couple of days, if you'd like to play a little game to help keep me entertained! :D Feel free to send as many as you like :p

Fic Title Meme!

If you make up titles (and pairings!) for stories I didn’t write, I will respond with details of those non-written stories. Just think of the possibilities!

[chaoticace2005]

Husk and Angel, in bed together late at night:

Husk: I love you Anthony.

Angel: *blushing*

Niffty, from in the walls: HUSK YOU’RE CHEATING ON ANGEL WITH SOME ANTHONY GUY?!

Sir Pentious, from the corner of the room: Yesss that’s quite dissssappointing

Husk and Angel:

Angel: Pentious, you can clearly see it’s me.

Sir Pentious: I see nothing but a homewrecker.

(Fic now here)

[myalchod]

✨🌼🌹 for the fic title asks!

✨ Pick a favorite fic title of yours and explain why you like it. Yay, I get to answer this one twice! Most recently, I'm pleased beyond reason with just a station on your way, because not only did the title fit, the entire freaking song fit the fic, and finding it again was such a delightful surprise. "I'm just a station on your way / I know I'm not your lover", but the melancholy note works for Andreas for me, no matter which way you want to interpret him and the fic's ending.

🌼 Name a title from another fic author and explain why you like it. Oh, this is a tough one. I love titles that read like poetry and have a rhythm and a cadence to them, in general, especially when they flow into the rhythm of the fic in turn, but I also love a brilliant sharply-worded play on words. I'm deliberately not picking something from current fandoms because I feel like I'll insult someone by not picking them, so ... rifling through my bookmarks, I'll give the shoutout to The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Bodhisattvas by Kanzeon Bosatsu (Judiciously Edited by Jiroushin), a Saiyuki Gaiden fic by veleda_k. Humour is hard, and being able to get a good title for a humour fic is even harder, and this does both.

🌹 Pick a title and explain how you chose it, its meaning, and anything else you'd like to share. Just to have an excuse to babble a little about it: who shall i say is calling? is another one where I borrow shamelessly from Leonard Cohen, but there's an added layer to it. The song takes from a Yom Kippur prayer called the Unetaneh Tokef, and the English translations echo how Cohen's "Who By Fire" starts with listing off a bunch of ways someone might die. There's the obvious correlation, but since Yom Kippur is (among other things) a day wherein one remembers the dead -- the penultimate section of the services is Yizkor, or Remember -- it gave me an added layer to please my nerd brain.

[ ask me another | answers ]

[aurumacadicus]

If you still want titles & pairings... how about Vainglorious with Starkbucks? (I love your writing & fics so so so much & i hope you're having a really good day)

I had to look up what this meant lmao. Thanks! You too!

Vainglorious

"This is your own fault, you know?" Bucky asked, picking through a bunch of flowers before he found a pretty hibiscus. He popped the entire thing into his mouth.

"Gross, you're supposed to suck the--" Tony began, but apparently he thought better of it, because he just shook his head and turned away.

Bucky plucked out a lily and took a bite out of one of the petals. "You're the one who thought it would be a good idea to tempt the fae," he continued, unperturbed.

Tony scowled. "I wasn't trying to tempt the fae. That's poisonous."

"Not to me," Bucky replied, shrugging. He turned to look over at the closet, where Steve was apparently packing all of Tony's clothes into a satchel that looked like it could only fit one shirt. "Doll, did Tony tempt us?"

"Of course he tempted us," Steve scoffed, beginning to wad up a silk shirt, which Tony squawked and snatched from him. He blinked at Tony, unimpressed, then reached in to grab another shirt to shove into the bag. "Walking through our circle, dressed in fine clothes, calling us assholes when we wouldn't let him leave--"

"Most people," Tony said loudly, shoving himself between Steve and the opening to his closet. He snatched the second shirt away from him. "Do not find being called an asshole attractive! Fucking cut it out, you brute, you're going to ruin all my clothes--"

Steve blinked at his empty hands, then looked back up at Tony, raising an eyebrow. "It's novel. People normally try very hard not to insult the fae."

"You deserve it and more!" Tony exclaimed, then slapped Steve's hand away from his diadem. "Don't touch that."

"We'd make you a better one," Steve huffed, sulking away from his closet. "Something grand, maybe, with gold and sapphires."

"Rubies," Bucky corrected, taking another bite of lily.

Tony hovered in front of his closet a moment longer, just to make sure Steve wouldn't dart back over when his guard was down, then grabbed the satchel to upend it. Half of all the clothes he owned came tumbling out.

"Be careful. I store spells in there," Bucky said, smirking when Tony immediately flipped the bag back upright.

"Put you in prettier clothes, too," Steve mused, eyes going dark and speculative. "Silks, and satins... some lace, maybe..."

"Ooh, lace!" Bucky agreed. He handed Steve the bouquet that some prospective beau had sent Tony. "Try the hibiscus. It's good."

Steve plucked one out. "Don't mind if I do."

"Stop eating my proposal gifts," Tony hissed, rushing over to snatch the vase out of Bucky's hands.

Steve and Bucky just frowned at him, unimpressed. "You don't need any proposals," Steve said. "You've promised yourself to us."

"I didn't know I was promising myself to you, you crafty bastards!" Tony exclaimed angrily. "And it won't even work! My country needs an heir." He frowned at them and hoped it didn't show any disappointment, because in other circumstances, he would have loved a roll in the hay with them. "You two don't really have the necessary parts."

"We can get you an heir," Bucky promised. The filthy grin on his face and spark of magic over his fingers didn't really leave a lot of questioning as to how.

Tony blinked at him slowly, disbelieving, then raised the vase over his head and threw it at him as hard as he could.

Steve caught it, but they both got splashed with water and slapped with flowers. "Okay, look, maybe we should talk about this," he offered hastily when he noticed Tony stomping over to where his other proposal gifts were. One of them looked like a sword.

"Maybe we should talk about this," Tony repeated, voice mocking, before he found the sword and grabbed it up.

"God damn it why are we so attracted to assholes," Bucky huffed, scrambling out of the way as Tony lunged toward them with a furious scream.

[tocourtdisaster]

for the fic title ask game, codywan, "a love that won't sit still"?

Cody had thought it was hard being in love with a Jedi during a time of war, but it’s somehow even harder once the peace treaties are signed and Obi-Wan becomes the Order’s go-to diplomat. At least Obi-Wan had requested a clone escort for his latest mission so Cody has an excuse to follow him across the galaxy again.

[tethered-heartstrings]

hiii! just wanted to give everyone a heads up that I am having gender-affirming surgery next week and will very likely not be on very much if at all as I recover. I will try and have memes and posts scheduled but I probably won't be able to make more when those run out. I'll also up my queue/rb my old posts. in my absence please feel free to check out my ao3/fic masterlist and older memes/metas/etc. or my ko-fi if you like what i make!

[indiaalphawhiskey]

fake title: almost tethered

💋 Almost Tethered

This was, by far, the longest and most awkward silence in the history of mankind, and yet, Louis couldn’t, for the life of him, think of a single thing to say.

Because, really, what was he supposed to say?

He knew fuck all about the man sitting casually on his chaise in a frieghteningly sexy brown duck jumper, except that he had been crazy enough to agree to a threesome with Louis and his fiancé to help spice up their already very extended engagement (that every single person they loved was still waiting for them to call off).

Well, okay, Louis didn’t know ‘fuck all’ exactly. He knew he had a face that was a little too pretty to be true (so much so that Louis had bet Robbie they were being catfished and was now down £20), that he was probably making an obscenely (heh) good living if his (surprisingly tasteful, only-strategically-posed-artful-nudes) OnlyFans page had anything to say about it, and that his actual real name was Harry Styles.

So, Louis knew some things (four, he knew a total of four things), none of which he could use to fill this rather excruciating silence. Lovely.

It didn’t help that Harry hadn’t said a thing to him either since walking through their door – not that he could have, what with the way Robbie had bulldozed through the introductions before swiftly exiting to make everyone martinis.

(“Do you even know how to make a martini?” Louis had asked as they were getting dressed that evening.

Robbie had waved off his very pressing concern. “I’ll Google it. Wine just seems a little too pedestrian for a threesome, you know?”)

Louis began to roll his eyes at the memory but quickly aborted the motion, worried Harry might think it was directed at him. He reverted back to their mutual staring, though, admittedly whilst Louis was sure his expression was similar to that of a frightened raccoon, Harry’s was painfully cool. Collected and poised. Almost serene. Unbothered.

His smirk was soft; green eyes kind yet still somewhat appraising. Louis supposed he couldn’t help it, given their, ah, agenda for the evening. He actually found himself hoping Harry liked what he saw.

Louis certainly did; found himself wondering if it would be appropriate to lick at the swallows tattooed on Harry’s collarbones, or if that was more of a second session kind of thing.

Would there be a second session? Likely not, since the entire point of doing this with a stranger was to avoid all the awkwardness afterwards. (Which said nothing of the awkwardness during.)

He was overthinking and needed to stop, immediately.

God, say something! Louis commanded himself, unable to remember the last time he blinked. As had become habit since his engagement, his hand drifted down to fiddle with the watch he wore with a fierce kind of loyalty on his right wrist. His mind drifted to three words hidden under the expensive leather strap – his accidental life mantra, bestowed upon him by fate.

He thought of how the curve of capital D swooped, how the N had always been a little crooked, how he had learned the cursive version of an S before he could even write or read.

How Robbie hadn’t said the words when they’d met.

How, because of that, his family thought this engagement had been doomed from the start.

How Harry still hadn’t said anythi—

“Don’t be nervous.”

Louis’ answer was automatic, almost involuntary, because he’d been saying it in mock response all his life. “I’m not.”

Needless to say, the next time Louis found himself staring awkwardly back at Harry Styles, it was not because of their impending threesome. It was because said third in their impending threesome had just uttered his soulmark.

— Or, there were a multitude of awkward ways to meet one’s soulmate. They could say your mark from the urinal next to you mid-wee at a funeral, or sneaking out of your flatmate’s bedroom after a one night stand, or trying to upsell the newest state-of-the-art dildo in their family-owned sex shop.

Still, Louis was pretty sure his version was the one that took the cake.

[librathefangirl]