#I’ll probably post a little snippet tomorrow or something too

[tadpolesonalgae]

are you planning on updating cbmthy soon?

So, I don’t want to jinx anything, because writing ch. 15 has stumped me in parts multiple times, but I’m hoping to have it ready for Friday? It’s been proving difficult where the story doesn’t read as I want it to, or I simply struggle to see how to progress a scene, but I think the end is in sight 😭

Thank you so much for being so patient by the way, I know the last proper update was a while ago, so I’m sorry it’s taking this long and thank you for sticking with me without hassle, I really appreciate it 🫂🧡💛

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Note: Hey everyone, its time to introduce a new boy to the lineup. Probably our craziest lead boy, Mr. Rafe Cameron. This is a snippet of his upcoming series. The first chapter should be coming out tomorrow along with an update in my other stories: Me and You and Better. I hope you all enjoy the snippet and are excited to embark on this new ride with me. It's gonna be toxic, sweet, and fun. Giving very, I can fix him/daddy I love him energy lol. But that's what Rafe needs! Pls heed the warnings though, this shit is for fun, and not real life, do not go find a crazy motherfucker like Rafe pls...or my oc. Let me know what you think and if you're excited for this story! The aesthetic for our leading lady is already posted. (Milan Cabot aesthetic).

Warning: Depictions of toxic relationships, dom/sub dynamics (throughout the series), obsession, explicit content and language (and everything else bad that comes with Rafe's crazy ass) MDNI.

“Take me home!” 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, kid, that’s exactly where I’ll take you.” Rafe chuckles humorously, pulling his hand from its place on her thigh, leaving the skin he’d been warming with his hand open to the cool night air. “Goin’ the fuck home.”

She watches as his large hand expertly whips the vehicle in the opposite direction of Tannyhill, turning to go down her neighborhood instead. The houses are just as nice, just as expensive, but she knew there would be something missing at her parents home. Rafe’s nonchalant, arrogant demeanor has her blood boiling under her skin in frustration. She wants to wipe the easy look off of his face. “M’not a fuckin’ kid.” she huffs, crossing her arms and leaning her head against the passenger window. 

She feels widened, sharp blue eyes burning into the back of her head as she stares into the dark streets, gasping when she feels the car jolt, tires skirting as the lunatic driver pulls into the shoulder of the road. Before she can react that same large hand is encasing her jaw, pointer finger and thumb pushing into her cheeks as he guides her face to his. “I’m like…I’m genuinely trying to figure out who the fuck you’re talking to.”

She whines a little, leaning into his hand, glancing over to the windows to ensure no one was witnessing this. “Rafe-”

“No, because, I know it’s not fuckin’ me. Like, you know better than that shit.” Rafe says, adjusting his grip, the cool metal of his ring resting against her cheek. “You know, I take bein’ your man like…insanely serious, like always…everything I do is for us. Like, you know that.”

“I…I do…”

“Handle business so I can make sure you have food to eat, buy you have the nicest shit, fuck you real good, m’not gettin’ the issue.”

“M’not saying there’s a problem.” 

Rafe releases his grip fully, taking to cupping her jaw instead, smoothing his thumb down the side of her neck. “And I don’t ask you for much do I, baby? Just hold me down. Listen to me. Trust me to build our life an’ shit, that’s too hard?”

“No, it isn’t, m’not saying I’m not grateful, Rafey, it’s just that sometimes-”

“I’m not trying to, like, minimize what you do for me.” Rafe cuts in again, softening his tone and leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “But for this shit to work, princess, I need someone who’s gonna actually ride for me. And uh, I need to know now if you can do that, sweetheart. Got too much shit to do to keep having this conversation. Too many plans for us. You need to decide if you can be my woman.”

“I can, baby, I can.” she sighs, nudging Rafe’s nose with her own, ignorant to what he’d managed to do again, blissfully unaware as her eyes slip closed and her guard slips down. “M’sorry.”

“I know you are. But uh, what are you willing to do to show it?” he asks softly, working to keep the smirk off of his face as he watches the small resolve his girl had mustered crumble as she breathes him in, her knees retreating from facing the window and moving over to him instead.

“Anything, Rafey.”

“Yeah?” he says smugly, tugging her into a deep, nasty kiss, tonguing her down with his hand hooked in the necklace he’d bought her, holding her to him. “That’s good t’a hear, pretty girl. M’gunna hold you to that shit.” he murmurs against her lips before lightly nudging her back into her seat and starting the car, mumbling under his breath as he drives them to Tannyhill.

“‘Take me home.’ Must’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”

[queenofalpaca]

Oh both Go to Sleep, Scrapper and Bode's Force Background have me super curious for the WIP ask!

Coming right up! thanks for the ask, Anon 🩵

Go to Sleep, Scrapper

This one is obviously inspired by Cal’s chronic inability to take care of himself. It’s planned as a 4+1 though I guess I could make it a 5+1 by just adding Cordova or something, we’ll see. It starts with instances of Greez, Cere, Merrin, and BD trying to convince Cal to go to sleep, and failing. Cal just has too many issues. Stubbornness, nightmares, insomnia, you name it, the guy’s probably struggling with it. The common theme here is that they all use some variation of “Go to sleep, [nickname]” btw, hence the title.

Cue the +1 in which Bode shows up, pulls “Go to sleep, Scrapper” and Cal promptly drops dead. Here’s a little snippet I do not remember writing 😅

It was probably stupid, but Bode needed Cal alive and well if he wanted to have any chance of getting to Tanalorr. He stepped into Cal’s path.

“Go to sleep, Scrapper.” It wasn’t hard to extend his presence just enough to shield the soft brush against Cal’s wobbling shields. He wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Probably wouldn’t remember it even without the soft suggestion to forget along with sleep.

Cal, predictably, dropped like a rock, right into Bode’s waiting arms. He had to take a step back to brace himself; Cal was heavier than he’d expected. Cal wasn’t bothered though, already snoring away into his chest. Bode huffed and pulled him into a more secure grip.

It took him a few moments to realise that the others had fallen silent, their quiet conversations stopped. He looked up to see all of them staring at him and Cal in various states of utter disbelief.

And that’s it. Just some cute little fluff about Bode finally getting Cal to take a dang nap. And possibly cheating a little bit to do so, lol

Bode’s Force Background

So you know the stony/rocky background going on in the meditation circle menu? This started as an effort to figure out what that might look like for Bode. That somehow split into both Haunting and the fic that’s still in this file, but I’ll tell you about this one (it’s the better one anyway, lol)

The idea is a 5+1. Yes again. I have a thing for 5+1s. They’re just easy to write, what can I say. This one’s angsty as hell tho (good job balancing things out, anon). The thing is, if I post it, this one will probably be called Haunting actually 😂

Now here’s the problem: this one features a big old plot twist. Trying to sell you this fic without spoiling it will make this description rather short. Bode is being haunted by Cal. He keeps catching glimpses of him, but he remains always just out of reach. That’s about as much as I can say.

What I will ramble a bit more about is what I came up with for Bode’s Force/Meditation background, and maybe you’ll even get an idea on what the big twist is. So. Bode’s a spy and he’s very good at hiding the fact that he’s Force-sensitive at all. Here’s my pitch: Bode’s meditation background changes to align to his current surroundings. Whatever place he’s in/planet he’s on, his background will change accordingly to a slightly surreal, dream-like version of the same place. The only common element is water (because the SpyScrapper discord is obssessed with the water/fire thing and I am not immune). In any case, the water. It seems natural at first glance. Rain on Coruscant, the river/waterfall on Koboh, a dripping sink on Nova Garon, stuff like that. But if you look a little closer, it might seem strange that it’s raining on the lower levels of Coruscant. Bode’s ‘true’ meditation background, when he’s not lying to himself and others and trying to make himself fit into his surroundings is a big old lake/ocean. Something something hidden depths, you get it.

And that’s as much as I’ll say (there’s more ideas on themes/metaphors but again, plot twist). One last thing though, because there isn’t yet enough angst: this fic will also feature the post-game Force Echoes. Make of that what you will, heh 🩵

Now for the next ask, I’m gonna need you guys to choose something I can drop actual snippets for 😂 unless you want to have the fics that are still mostly just concepts 😅

[rscroogedraws]

Here are a couple of my favorite (not too spoiler-ific) scenes from a couple of my in-progress fan fics.

I've had an uphill battle with bad writer's block and inconsistency with any kind of creative fiction for the past several years now. It hurt having such a hard time with that since I've wanted to become some kind of fiction author since I was six and I used to actively write analyses for YouTube stuff. So the fact I've eked out a couple chapters for each of these feels like a huge accomplishment to me.

I appreciate all of the feedback or interest I've gotten for pretty much any of my projects over the past year or so. Seriously, even if you're just leaving a like, it's made a difference to me knowing someone enjoyed my work enough to take a second to interact with them in that kind of capacity.

A03 is down for maintenance at the time I'm posting. I'll update these with links once they're back up later today or tomorrow.

Edit: Links have been added!

Not Quite an Elevator Pitch

O.K. K.O. Let's Be Heroes! Fan Fic

Synopsis: Professor Venomous is back in Lakewood Plaza Turbo! He thought returning would be as easy as move back into Boxmore and start attacking the Plaza. Instead, he's not quite sure what to do next and is trying to find himself. Then he gets stuck in an elevator with someone unexpected and they give him a much-needed reality check.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

Snippet from Ch. 2: Definitely Not Silver Spark

When Venomous awoke the next morning, he was surprised he slept at all. He wandered into the living room and read 9:08 AM on the digital oven clock. That was a personal achievement after the last week or so of staying up until 4:00 AM, hanging in there long enough to pull together a bare bones breakfast and box lunch for Fink, and then crashing until 5 or 6 before Fink returned from school or Boxmore.

He padded into the kitchen as he mentally cataloged notes to send with Fink on why she was late as well as easy but actually nutritious lunches to send with her. So much of him hated that he’d relied on Snackables so much the past few days. He kept imagining an okay-ish tuna sandwich next to flimsy cardboard packaging with crackers, dubious lunch meat, plastic cheese, and radioactive colored candy. Fink loved it. She bragged that her friends were jealous with a big grin on her face. That was now. What kind of look would she give him when she was in her early 30’s and remembered that he knew how to competently cook but opted for shortcuts instead?

That train of thought wasn’t even needed. Today was Saturday. Fink said she’d be gaming. Then Venomous found a note attached to the fridge: Hey Boss! The tournament got rescheduled. So I’m helping Raymond and Shannon raid a cruise liner today! They have lobster. I’ll make sure to bring home leftovers.

A mix of hurt and pride panged through Venomous. Previously, Fink asked to join him on every villainous caper, business trip, or big event. Lately, if she wasn’t gaming with friends, she was hanging out with her step-siblings or new friends somewhere “irl.” She still said hi, let him know where she was going, and kept a generally friendly rapport. After the horror stories Venomous heard from other parents about teenagers, that had to mean something. Fink was just starting to enter her teenage years though. There was still time for heLinkr to develop resentment towards him.

That’s probably how K.O. felt right now. He had every reason to hate PV and never talk to him again. That’d been earned. Very painfully earned. The part of him that still gripped his head on straight with little ribbons of hot glue and sticky tack knew he should leave all of that alone. The part of him that was itching to throw back a full bottle of absinthe before 11:00 in the morning was making a beeline for his phone.

He’d dialed the number before stronger self-control would have stopped him.

“...hello?” Silver Spark’s voice drifted in from the other line. “Carol speaking. Sorry for not recognizing your number. I think it’s been long enough since we exchanged numbers I don’t remember. Who is this?”

“…Lase-Professor Venomous.” He swallowed heavily and felt like he’d been hit by an intense bolt of lightning. “Professor Venomous.”

“Um...oh. Ahm, okay.” She didn’t sound completely upset but her tone wasn’t as pleasant as before either. “Did you need something for paperwork?”https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

“….no.”

“Okay….” Carol cleared her throat. “We got all of your child support payments. If that’s what you were calling about. Everything on that front has been smooth sailing.”

“Good.” Venomous stared intensely at the nearest kitchen counter. There was a marbling pattern over everything he hadn’t noticed before.

“Yeah….” Impatience was starting to creep into Carol’s tone.

“I’m sorry.” The words just tumbled out. “I’m sorry….about everything.”

It felt like time itself stopped. If the oven clock digital display wasn’t flashing, Venomous would have started entertaining the thought of a time wizard or a highly-advanced lizard creature with space-time warping powers crawling around the apartment. Almost two agonizing minutes passed. Carol’s breathing on the other end of the phone became a little strained.

“Are you okay?” Of course he had to follow up dropping an emotional bomb with an equally stupid foot-in-mouth comment.

“Professor Venomous,” Carol said with a slight stutter. “I-If we’re talking about this, I’d rather do it in person.”

“I...understand.” He felt his heart start fluttering around his rib cage like a hummingbird desperately trying to break free.

****

Our Beloved Docktor Frogg

League of Super Evil Fan Fic with some O.K. K.O.! crossover references

Synopsis: Docktor Frogg is starting to feel stagnant towards his overall life and career as a mad scientist. He wonders if the grass is greener somewhere else working for someone other than Voltar the Saturday morning cartoon flop.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56704720/chapters/144145309

Snippet from Part II: Sandwich Artist Gene

“Can I take your order?” The waitress’ voice was familiar but Frogg couldn’t quite place why.

“Lizzy?” Frogg immediately shot up at Voltar’s excited tone of voice. “It’s been awhile! How are you?”

“It’s Elizabeth, Voltar.” Lightning Liz, sans her trademark yellow exo-suit, stood behind the counter in a light blue polo shirt, washed out capris, a black apron, and a nametag with her name written in the same crude scrawl as the sign out front. It’d been a few years since Frogg had seen Liz in person instead of the newspaper or videos on various news sites. So it floored him a bit how much older she was now. Didn’t she just graduate from high school not too long ago?

He remembered Voltar gushing about Liz graduating as class salutatorian as if she was his younger sister.

“I’m doing great!” Liz continued with a small and genuine smile. “You got the invite for Tiff and I’s wedding, right? You better RSVP. Soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Voltar flapped his hand. “I saw the many, many links for your wedding registry. I haven’t RSVP’d yet because I’m working on getting that-”

“Don’t tell me what you ordered! It’ll ruin the surprise.” Liz squealed. “I have something fantastic in mind for your birthday later this year too. You better keep that day open if you know what’s good for you.”

“I have it marked on my planner. Whole day is open.”

“Good.”

“So, we have this coupon….” Voltar pointed towards Red and not so subtly shifted his gaze towards the thin strip of paper in Red’s big hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” Liz returned the sass Voltar dished out less than a minute ago. “So, I’m getting the vegan sandwich for him.” She pointed at Red. “An extra meaty sandwich for him with extra provolone cheese.” She pointed at Frogg. “And you want the meatball sub with the works?”

At that, Voltar gasped and his antennae started shaking with his excitement. “You guys have that extra spicy mustard?!”

“Of course!” Liz nodded, but her cheerful disposition immediately turned sour. “I skimmed the 4-page essay you sent me about it.”

When Voltar whooped and started doing a victory dance in the middle of the restaurant, Frogg visibly shuddered and looked around Red to see if any other stools were open.

“You’ll be happy to know you’re not the only one that has a weird fascination with that mustard.” Liz sighed. “There was a weird woman in here the other day raving about it too.”

“From now on, I’m the only one getting that mustard here!” Voltar declared with an anime gesture fist to the air. “I get exclusive rights to it. Exclusive.”

“I still think you’re the only one that actually likes it,” Frogg said. “I don’t-”

“Don’t. Get. Him. Started.” Liz jabbed a finger in Frogg’s face for emphasis on each word and matched the points with a warning glare.

“How did you know what sandwiches we wanted?” Red tilted his head. “Are you psychic?”

“No.” Liz placed her hands on her hips. “Voltar writes about you guys on his blog.”

“You have a blog….” Frogg scratched his scalp. The past 5 minutes had revealed a lot about a side of Voltar that Frogg didn’t know much about, except for the spicy mustard obsession. Metrotown might not know that L.O.S.E. existed but random strangers definitely knew how particular Voltar was about his condiments.

“It’s not a blog! It’s supposed to be a newsletter…” Voltar grumbled.

“I told you that Zitter would get more reach,” Liz said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m hungry. Can we place our orders now?” Voltar deliberately looked anywhere but Liz’s face.

“SANDWICH ARTIST GENE!” Liz yelled. “Order up!”

That’s when a painfully familiar face appeared at the order window in the kitchen. There was a surprisingly jovial Justice Gene with a wrinkled paper hat sitting on his head at an awkward angle. He had a couple of deep shadows under his eyes but otherwise, he had a legitimate smile on his face instead of the haughty, try-hard smirk Frogg was used to.

Liz rattled off food service industry shorthand that Frogg would never be able to translate despite his best efforts. Then Gene looked up a moment later. Recognition flashed across his face and Frogg was tapping his claws in a vain attempt to prepare the laser engraver setting he installed there a few days ago. Maybe it could be used as a laser gun with the right angle and a little imagination.

“Hey guys!” Gene said, emulating the friendly and personable air that came naturally to Red Menace but was really awkward on him. “Didn’t expect to see you at opening week of my new restaurant. I’m happy you’re willing to bury the hatchet to support a budding young entrepreneur!”

“I don’t know about young…” Frogg muttered under his breath while thinking about the gray hairs he’d pulled out of his scraggly tree of hair earlier this morning.

“What’s the catch, Gene?” Voltar snapped. “We haven’t seen you in almost a year and now you’ve lured us out with delicious subs. I demand to know what you’re planning!”

“There’s no catch,” Gene said. “I just got tired of not getting anywhere in the hero biz. Even for the five minutes I was a hero, I was still the guy that cleaned toilets and picked up fancy coffee orders. It was worse with an official costume because even though I’d technically made it, nobody respected me. I think you guys of all people know what that’s like…”

Both Gene’s personal account and the way his face fell struck an unnervingly deep chord with Frogg. The mix of sympathy and existential dread hit his heart hard enough it felt physical. He looked down and saw himself gripping the fabric of his lab coat right over his heart.

“The one thing everybody liked were my sub sandwiches.” A dreamy expression drifted onto Gene’s face. “The only time I got a real compliment from Glory Guy was for my magic touch with the panini press. I got demoted to trash collector one day and just started thinking ‘Is this the rest of my life?’ As I spent the day collecting trash, all I could think about were sandwiches. How sourdough is the king of bread. Flatbread is a perfect base for a classic BLT. I realized then: Instead of a superhero, maybe my calling is...making the perfect hero sandwiches for superheroes!” Gene gave an awkward laugh. “And everybody else, of course! Villains included. Everybody deserves a good, home-made sandwich.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story, Gene,” Voltar scowled.

“I’m so happy for you!” Red gushed and his affirmation drowned out Voltar’s snark. “You deserve to be happy. I hope you’re successful!”

Gene’s face was red and he bashfully ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

****

[darling-archeron]

Hello again! 🧑🏻‍🎄

I hope you had a wonderful Halloween full of candy and fun! I ended up not doing anything much beyond dressing in black and orange at work bc I was so tired by the time I got home, but I did do a little more prepping before midnight kicked off and I started writing your fic for nanowrimo! Two days ago while writing, despite following the outline, Feyre and Rhys still managed to take control and change something right at the beginning😔 but honestly I love it and how it’ll enhance some of the plot and I hope you will too!

Any plans this coming week? I’m flying to visit a friend tomorrow night so will be busy probably until late next week, but I’ll still be tapping away those keys as best I can in my down hours.

Also - I know it’s a bit late but re the favorite fic post - i just adore Hot Chocolate with Cinnamon! Feyre drawing those cute little puns makes me smile so much☺️ and for the wip post feysand fake dating au?👀

And for your first snippet, a line I literally wrote five minutes ago:

“I’ll trip you,” she admitted blatantly. “If a wolf decides to show its face to us? I don’t have to outrun it. I’ll just have to outrun you.”

And Rhys just laughed at that, loud and carefree, either unaware or unbothered by the looks it earned from the other townspeople out and about on market day.

Have a great week!!!

Hi Santa!! I have had so much Halloween candy the past couple weeks, it's been great haha. My actual Halloween was pretty uneventful, I dressed up and went out with a few friends!

I personally always love it when the characters run away with the story, it's usually when I end up getting most inspired and writing in big streaks.

Hot Chocolate Cinnamon is one of my older favorites! One of the few times I don't make anyone suffer 😅I'm so glad you enjoyed it, I want to keep writing more aus like that in the future :)

I'm having so much fun with the fake dating AU! I'm forcing myself not to post it until I have the majority done because I'm notorious for leaving multichapters unfinished, which is a habit I'm trying to break. The premise is that Feyre and Rhys are partners for a class project in college, and Feyre ends up needing a fake date to a work event because Tamlin will be there...and the whole thing goes from there! Here's a little snippet for fun :)

-

Feyre narrowed her brow. “This better not be some elaborate scheme to sleep with me, Rhysand.”  

“It’s not, and I’m a little offended that you think so little of me.”

“What then? You’re just really bored? Between the two of us, I’m the one who was home alone last Friday night.”

“I already told you, I can’t have you slacking on our group project! Is that not a good enough reason?”

Hardly, Feyre thought, but bit back the remark.

He was helping her, after all.

-

I hope you have a great flight and a great time with your friend! Last week I got to see some friends I haven't seen in forever.

Omg this snippet has me so excited. Soft/domestic vibes? Chef's kiss!! Thank you for sharing!!

I hope you are doing well, have a fantastic week!

[footnotesandendings]

as apology for the last post, here's a WIP Wednesday snippet from a Virgil/girl!Jordan fic I'm poking at.

(Jordan is the captain of the Liverpool women's side in this.)

Jordan texts him one day out of the blue, while he’s at home on his couch with his feet in an ice bath. <em>Come over tomorrow night to watch Donetsk-Roma?</em>

Virgil blinks at that, his thoughts spinning ahead fast. She’s inviting him over to her place—which could mean she’s interested in moving ahead faster than planned—but she’s inviting him over to watch Champions League—which almost certainly means she thinks of it as a work thing.

<em>I don’t know where you live</em>, he replies, which he recognizes immediately as stupid, but it’s too late to take it back.

<em>I’ll tell you that</em>. There’s a little pause, then, <em>I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.</em>

He would kick something, but it would send icewater all over the room. <em>I do want to. We’ve got Porto coming up so I need a quiet evening anyway</em>.

She sends back a thumbs-up, and then her address. <em>It’s a block of flats, so text me when you get here and I’ll buzz you in.</em>

He doesn’t recognize the street name, but that’s what GPS is for. <em>I’ll get there half an hour before kickoff? Should I bring anything?</em>

<em>Lol. I can feed you. See you then.</em>

He sends a thumbs-up of his own and tosses his phone aside, resting his head against the couch. He’s got to bring something or his mother will somehow know and call to yell at him. Not wine. Not flowers. Maybe a t-shirt from the team shop, honestly. Or socks. She would probably appreciate that more than the rest.

[mariaofdoranelle]

I wanted to let you know, that I loved Faking Yulemas and I check your profile from time to time to check that I havent missed the update and reread bits of story.

But no pressure about finishing it. I know how life can be...

Hi, Anon!! Thank you so much, this means a lot to me 🥺❤️❤️

I haven’t forgotten about Faking Yulemas at all, don’t worry! Long story short, life happened, but I’ll put below a

Life Update (and snippet):

Basically, I haven’t been writing a lot because my mental health is an eternal tightrope. You see, I wasn’t writing much around November because of my study life. Then during my break I got so excited about writing that I forgot about my sleeping schedule. Which led to me a mood episode, so I was too depressed to write a feel-good fic like Faking Yulemas, but I did write a piece that was so sad I didn’t feel like posting. I did promise I’d never post something without a HEA, but here’s a paragraph from my drafts:

Aelin wasn't the only person in the world to lose the love of her life, and some of them even did great after that, with their second-best significant ones. No one can keep every single good thing that happens in their life. Even if said good best thing is right there, standing in front of you.

So after the depressive episode I had a manic episode because that’s how life goes for bipolar people, and I was hyperfocusing on other stuff. But now my psychiatrist is re-adjusting my medication (in fact I’ll go back there tomorrow!) and I’m feeling a lot better, I even wrote a few things this week like

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him. Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, and her head slowly turned towards his.

“What?” Rowan asked, still a little hazy from his mishap.

“I think I like you.”

This ^ is for Faking Yulemas’ next and last chapter! It probably won’t see the last time you’ll see them, but I don’t want to drag their ending out after disappearing for that long lol anyway thanks again for asking and caring ❤️❤️

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Bucky By Night Snippet

I'm probably going to post this fic tomorrow or the day after, buuuut, I'd like to give y'all a little snippet of my Radio Show AU where Sam calls into Bucky's late-night/early-morning radio show while driving to work:

📻 📻 📻

Sam had found it by accident.

The usual radio stations that Sam listened to always became static whenever he made the drive from Delacroix to Pointe A La Hache Harbor. Ever since he was a child. Ever since he came back from the DC.

Maybe it was because the CD player in his father’s old truck was broken. Maybe Sam just needed something to listen to on the long, open expanse of road. But Sam had fiddled with the dial all around the FM radio stations until he found the start of it one morning.

A preamble.

It was the preamble of a instruments. Some mix of Disco and R&B beat blasted from the car’s radio as the jingle of a radio station began.

“You are now listening to,” started a woman’s voice on the radio before it quickly switched to a man’s, “One-Oh-One-Point-Nine, The Wolf!”

Sam might have faltered when he heard the wolf howling as the beat dropped in that jingle. He found himself staying on that station as he heard that voice on the other side of the radio.

“Hello.”

It wasn’t hypnotic. Sam wouldn’t say that. Nor was it sultry. Not too high-pitched either. It wasn’t anything Sam would necessarily call a radio voice.

It was warm, though.

Like a man talking to a good friend. Like a small fire heating a cold night. It was strangely familiar despite Sam never hearing the man’s voice in his life. Oddly comforting.

So, Sam kept listening.

“Welcome, ghouls and goblins, to Bucky By Night. You’re Year Round Radio Show for Frights and Horrors,” said the man in the middle of July, “I am your ghastly host, Bucky, and I’d like to begin my second story tonight - or I suppose this morning - with a story I got via letter. I know. Haunting, right? Who sends a letter in this day and age? And in cursive, no less. And crimson ink. And what is this? Tea-stained paper? Nice touch. This letter seemed important, so here’s to you, anonymous letter writer. I’ll spin your tale…”

Maybe Sam should be more curious about that. About some man getting a creepy, blood-cursive written letter or something, but all Sam could fixate on was Bucky. This man had all the atmosphere he wanted, yet he went with the name Bucky?

Sam’s mind kept thinking about it, the tale from the mysterious letter going in one ear and out the other until Bucky said, “As it’s nearing the end of this show, it’s time for call-ins. What did you think of the story? Do you have something to tell me? Just want to talk? Call in!”

Before Sam could think, Sam was calling Bucky on speaker. He didn’t even know if he would get through. He’d never called into a radio station before. But someone on the other line picked up and said, “Hi! Thank you for calling into One-Oh-One-Point-Nine, The Wolf. Are you calling in for ‘Bucky By Night’? And if so, what’s your name?” and it felt like a haze as Sam answered the questions, lowered his radio volume as instructed, waited his turn as “Third in line”.

Everything seemed to be in stark focus as Sam heard him. On the other side of the line. This Bucky guy.

“Thank you for calling into Bucky By Night,” said the voice from the radio, as if excited just getting a caller, “What are you calling in for, Sam?”

Sam should be saying something. About the story Bucky told. Maybe just hang up. But Sam couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop himself as the words just toppled out of his mouth.

“Bucky By Night?” Sam said, “What are you by day, then?”

[icycoolslushie]

THG Thomastair AU

“I wish we could find sanctuary,” Thomas said. “You know, with shelter and such.”

“But Thomas,” Alastair said, “you are my sanctuary.”

TW/CW: If you're reading this, you've probably read The Hunger Games books or watched the movies so this has the same stuff as in them!

Idea // OG post // Ask

Disclaimers: This has headcanons along with snippets. Hopefully it's not OOC. Any Persian is what my Iranian friend told me. I like to headcanon that all the districts have their own language. Warning: The plot might be non-existent. Also, if you see any kind of mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! Kinda long :)

Thomas is from District 7

Alastair is from District 11

The president is Josiah Wayland

The Head Gamemaker is Maurice Bridgestock

Eugenia is part of a group to overthrow the Capitol

Barbara and Oliver died in a previous Hunger Games

It was like it was in the books

Alastair used to be in a relationship with Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, Charlotte Fairchild

Risa is Sona’s sister so Alastair’s aunt

Alastair volunteers for Cordelia

Cordelia struggles with him and finally says in “I love you” in Persian (dooset daram) before Alastair goes on the train

Cordelia is like Prim

Alastair’s mentor is Ragnor Fell

They be sassy together

Thomas’s mentor is Charlotte

Alastair’s stylist tells him Alastair should dye his hair back to black

In the opening ceremony, Thomas dresses as a tree and Alastair thinks how Thomas makes “a boring costume look beautiful”

Alastair has a suit on with leaves embroidered on it which Thomas later tells him “it was like nature blessed you”

Jem may or may not be an Avox Jem is Alastair’s Avox

Thomas Tanner is Thomas’s Avox

For training Alastair throws spears and pulls a 8

Thomas uses a broadsword in training and pulls an 8 as well

Thomas gets a compass rose tattoo from his stylist for the interview

The arena has a structure that looks like the Eiffel Tower at one end

The arena is covered in forests, except for the Cornucopia

When the canon sounds, Alastair runs toward the Cornucopia and escapes with a dagger to the forest

Thomas runs straight (ha!) into the forest

9 children die in the initial bloodbath

Alastair and Thomas both spend the night in trees about ten minutes away from each other

In the morning, Alastair hears rustling and eventually confronts Thomas

They first try to kill each other, but then they hear someone else and work together to fight the District 9 male tribute

Alastair puts his dagger at the tribute’s throat and stabs him there

Alastair doesn’t want to partner up and vice versa

“Alastair—I think you’d be a great person to team up with, but I . . . I don’t want to team up with you. I don’t want to team up with anyone. We—we might survive till the end, and then—” “No, Thomas, I understand. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll go our separate ways.” Thomas nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Part of him had been hoping Alastair would disagree with him, even when it was reasonable. He ignored it and set about laying the food they’d gathered.

But they gather food and decide they’ll have a meal together and then go their separate ways

They make a meal of some fruits they find on trees and on the ground

Thomas just cannot eat the celery

They part ways

By the second night, fourteen people in total are dead

Thomas goes to the Eiffel Tower structure the next day

He climbs onto the first level and greets Alastair

Alastair’s leg is wounded

Alastair explains that the Careers fought him

The Careers include Augustus Pounceby and Clive Cartwright

“Tell me. Tell me who hurt you. I’ll kill them.” Alastair had never seen anyone so angry on his behalf that it unnerved him. “It doesn’t matter, it was the Capitol—” “Don’t,” Thomas said quietly. “Don’t try to downplay it. I want to make them pay.” Alastair paused. After a minute he said, “It was the Careers. The District 1 and 2 tribute. Augustus and Clive. They climbed onto here and started fighting me. I gave Augustus a good cut on the arm and Clive a nice scar on his cheek but they overpowered me. Augustus stabbed my leg. They left laughing.” “They didn’t finish you off?” Alastair shook his head. “I think they . . . wanted me to suffer. It isn’t like I can go anywhere, and I have no allies, so probably wanted to come back tomorrow and then finish me off. But it’s not like I’m going to last that long.” The last sentence caught Thomas off guard. “What?” “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Thomas thought about the District 1 tribute, Augustus, who had been saying that Barbara was weak before the Opening Ceremony. That Barbara, who had gotten him out of a scuffle with a Peacekeeper, was weak. That Barbara, who had volunteered for her cousin in the Reaping, was weak. He thought about the hate he had felt for the Career. Then he thought about graceful, elegant, bleeding Alastair in front of him, the way he had hugged his sister, the way he guarded himself, and decided. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Thomas bandages Alastair’s wound

“Alastair, you’re hurt. Please let me wrap your leg in leaves and vines.” “Thomas, you don’t understand. I’ve always bandaged my own wounds. It’s not going to change now.” “Sometimes,” Thomas said, “it’s better to let others take care of you. They do a better job than you realize. Alastair, please. You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Alastair saw something in Thomas’s eyes: truth. He thought back to how many people would want to help him: his father, his mother, his aunt Risa . . . when he was young. As he grew up, all of them faced the same cruel system and all of them were expected to take care of their own wounds. Now, here was someone willing to help him when he should be killing him. It gave Alastair such a feeling of care and belonging that he nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone take care of him for once.

They eventually decide to team up

Thomas makes a meal out of things he finds in the forest

He and Alastair eat it

Alastair heals from his wound

By that night, nineteen people are dead

Augustus, Clive, and the District 8 female tribute are still alive along with them

Alastair takes first watch during the night, Thomas takes the second

Alastair gently moved his fingers across the compass rose tattoo that Thomas had gotten from his stylist. He felt Thomas’s pulse. He promised himself that that pulse would go on even when his own didn’t.

The next day Alastair and Thomas set off (Alastair’s leg is healed)

Augustus and Clive are waiting for them

Thomas kills Augustus, attacking with A LOT of force

Clive gets a good hit on Thomas with a sword on his left arm

Alastair and Clive fight, Clive flees finally while he’s bleeding from a dozen cuts

Alastair bandages Thomas’s wound with leaves and vines

“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” “Thomas—Thomas, you’ve lost too much blood. You’re going delirious.” Thomas sighed softly. “I would go delirious if that meant I could hear you say my name one more time.”

They get a sponsor gift: a whole meal of steak and sides, which they finish that day

When Alastair bites into an apple, Thomas wants to kiss him

Both of them fall asleep at night

When they wake up, they’re in a prison; a Capitol prison

They were in prison. But even if they were in hell, Alastair wouldn’t have minded. They were together.

They lie in each other’s arms, seeking warmth

“Why are we in prison? What did we do?” Alastair demanded, getting up as Josiah Wayland stuck his ugly face in front of the bars. President Wayland’s lip curled. “It isn’t you that did something, it’s your family.” Thomas gasped sharply. “Eugenia.” The president smiled cruelly. “So you do know her crime.” Thomas swallowed. Alastair put his hand in Thomas’s. “What did my family do?” Alastair asked, trying to change the topic. “Why, your sister did the same thing,” Josiah Wayland said. This time Alastair gave a sharp gasp. Thomas squeezed his hand, and Alastair drew a bit of comfort from him. But his mind was on Cordelia, his little sister, what would happen to her— Wayland, the monster he was, smiled wider as he saw Alastair and Thomas despairing their sisters’ fate.

Cordelia joined the same rebel group Eugenia was in

“But why are we here? What did they do that you had to take us out of the Games?” Thomas demanded when he had finally calmed down. It seemed that all the Lightwood siblings would all die in their youth. “As soon as they are in our custody, they will be executed. In front of you two. Everyone thinks the two of you killed each other. After they’re dead, both of you will be executed.” Thomas swallowed. “Why? Why will you execute us?” “Your sisters should have thought about your safety before they did what they did. At least you’ll be able to tell them goodbye. If the executioners give you the chance,” President Wayland added before he gave another cruel smile and left.

Thomas and Alastair despair over their and their sisters’ fates

“We’ll fight them. I don’t care. We’ll fight the Capitol. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Barbara and Oliver and Jem and Will and Tessa and my mom and every single person they hurt. We’ll make them pay, Alastair.”

Thomas sighed. “If only we had hope.” “I don’t think about hope, Thomas. I think about you. You’re my hope.” And now I’m going to lose you, Alastair wanted to add, but he didn’t. And then I won’t have any hope left.

“The odds were never in our favour, Thomas,” Alastair whispered, closing his eyes. Then he added softly, “And they never will be.”

Letter addressed to Alastair Carstairs, District 11 male tribute of the 56th Hunger Games, from Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, found crumpled in a trash bin of the Training Center floor 11

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer Also tagging @jurdan-my-beloved who originally requested the headcanons and @youngreckless Lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

[therealyaspen]

Possessed Legend Go Brr

You know I was gonna just post a snippet bc I stopped writing this like five months ago bUT HERE HAVE A MESSY, UNEDITED BUT COMPLETE THING I GUESS?? Any grammatical errors will probably be looked over tomorrow dfnsav

So. The Lost Woods were still creepy as hell. Good to know. A dense fog still covered the area, and crows still screamed their call-and-respond at random seemingly just to startle anyone not expecting it. The same old eerie lantern-light darted between the trees, the same poes laughed at the group as they got up and dusted themselves off.

Some things would never change, Legend supposed, no matter how often you came back.

"Looks like the Lost Woods," Time observed. "Do we know whose era we're in?"

"Mine," Legend said with a glance at the pedestal in the middle of the clearing, "The Sword looks just like I left it."

Sky sighed sadly. "This place is so... different," he said, then turned to Legend and asked, "Are you going to take it?"

Legend shook his head. "Better to leave it here for now, I think." In truth, he didn't want to hold the blade ever again. Too many memories involved his hand clenched tight around the azure hilt of the Master Sword until his knuckles turned white. Without another word on the matter, he started walking. "We should probably get going before that scaly bastard can put anymore distance between himself and us. Follow me and stick close--Hyrule, no wandering off."

And so began the journey through the woos. As the group of heroes left the Sword behind them, however, it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong with the Lost Woods. The further they went from the clearing, the more obvious the signs were. The plants were wilting and turning a sickly purple grey color, the crows got to be fewer and fewer. Wild was caught trying to grab mushrooms that even Legend hadn't seen before three times. Even the poes seemed to notice that something was amiss and were avoiding the rest of the forest as much as they could.

Hyrule was the first to say anything. "Something's not right. There's magic here, but it's... wrong. Like Dark Link's," he announced, reaching up to touch a grayed leaf and recoiling with a yelp when it crumbled to dust in his hand. It almost looked like it had burned the Traveler.

"Then all we can do is stay on our toes and trust Legend to get us out of here," Twilight replied, and Legend noted the way that his pelt almost looked like the fur on the back of an animal's neck, bristling and on high alert. He nodded.

"New rule--don't touch anything. Wild, for Din's sake, put the mushrooms down!"

Wild gave him a kicked puppy look over his armload of slimy, red-capped fungi. "They look like they might be good for cooking!" he protested.

Legend pinched the bridge of his nose. "They also might be poisonous, you--" the Veteran stopped mid-sentence, and not of his own volition. He felt his arms drop to his sides, his face go slack. What the hell...? What in the actual goddess-damned fuck?! He wanted to shout, to rip whatever was doing this to him a new asshole, but he couldn't.

This was... something else. Something other.

"...Legend? You okay?" Wild asked. "It's fine dude, I'll put them down." Gingerly, he set the mushrooms on the ground, then put his hands up when Legend--or rather, the thing that was controlling Legend--didn't look away or change its expression or do anything. Get the fuck out of me! I swear to Hylia, I'll kick your ass! Legend swore at whatever it was, trying to force even just a little twitch of his finger.

Four looked at him warily. "Is he... do you guys think he can even hear us? Legend?" he asked, tentatively walking over to him. Yes! Yes, I can, and I have no goddess-damned clue what the hell's going on! Hyrule's arm shot out to stop Four. His eyes were wide, never leaving Legend.

"Don't," he said, voice cracking a little. "Something... something's really wrong."

Whatever had taken Legend's body finally decided to speak. Its voice was raspy and quiet and most certainly not his own. It sounded almost like fallen leaves scraping against the bare earth in the fall. "Trespassers... leave..."

Then Legend felt himself be thrown forward in a leap towards Hyrule, sword out and ready to attack. Move! He screamed, but again, his mouth didn't so much as twitch. Four grabbed the other hero and pulled him down just barely in time to avoid getting sliced in half, but the sound of steel cutting through flesh was as clear as Hyrule's scream as the blade struck him. The Traveler had a massive gash in his side. legend's arm moved up to deal a death blow, and he was begging now, Please, don't do this! Don't kill him, don't kill any of them, they're all I have--

Clang!

Legend would have cheered at the sound of his sword striking Wild's shield if he could. Wild pushed outwards with a shout, sending Legend stumbling back. Warriors and Time were on him before whatever had him could even think about getting up, though the thing was apparently much stronger than he was and was struggling violently in an attempt to throw both of them off. "What the hell are you doing?!" Warriors bellowed. The fury in his eyes almost physically burned, and Legend didn't really blame him. He'd probably react much the same.

"He's not himself," Time said. His voice was strained, and Legend could see that behind his neutral expression was a barrage of emotions. He couldn't imagine any of them were particularly pleasant. "Someone grab his sword!"

Twilight was just barely able to pry the weapon from his grip, which seemed to just further aggravate the thing inside him. Time and Warriors both ended up being thrown off. "Damn, that was... has he always been this strong?" Warriors muttered, getting up swiftly and moving to aid Sky in trying to grab Legend again.

It's probably whatever's causing him to act like this," Sky guessed. He blocked a punch aimed directly at his head and Legend silent-howled in pain as his fist connected with solid metal, but his body landed a blow to the Skyloftian's gut and a kick to Twilight's left knee.

He was sent downwards when Wind charged him and grabbed ahold of the back of his legs, then swore internally as his newly-retrieved sword tore through the Sailor's calf. "Fuck! I don't want to hurt him, but this asshole's sure not taking it easy on us!" the kid exclaimed.

Twilight was back on his feet quickly, though Legend noticed that he was favoring his injured knee just a little. He hoped to whoever would listen that this thing didn't see it too. Sky was a little slower to recover, but he got back up before Legend shook Wind off of him.

"Hey!"

Legend's head snapped in the direction of the shout to see Warriors. The Captain looked jarringly unsure and a little surprised, as if he hadn't meant to yell. He shook his head and the surprise disappeared, though he was clearly still uncertain. Legend was barreling into him before he could start speaking, and he hardly had time to get his shield up. "Snap our of it, Legend! This isn't--I know you're still in there!"

The thing controlling Legend kicked at Warriors' ankles, sending him toppling down. Warriors went at Legend's own ankles, hard. Fucking ow, asshole. Legend didn't even have time to think before he was on his stomach, Warriors holding his left wrist firmly against the ground and rendering the sword he held useless. The Captain's knee was in his back, and his full weight was holding Legend down. The whatever-it-was struggled, thrashing to get free, but the others were quick to secure his other limbs.

There was a beat of silence, save for ragged breathing and the sounds of a frantic attempt to get free, before Warriors spoke. His weight shifted a bit. "Sorry, Legend. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Then there was a pain in the back of Legend's neck, and he was released into unfeeling darkness.

~~~

When Legend awoke, the first thing he noticed was the rope tying his hands together. The second was the very familiar bed, and the third...

"Oh, Mister Hero! You're awake!"

Legend groaned and gave Ravio the evil eye when he helped him sit up, but was relieved to find that he could move his body on his own now. "What the hell am I doing here, and where are the others."

Ravio gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, you wound me! And here I was, worried you wouldn't wake up yourself!"

"Ravio..."

"Fine, fine--but you did give me quite the scare, you know! Being carried in, unconscious and apparently possessed and all--"

"Ravio!"

The merchant put his hands on his hips. "Hold your horses, Mister Hero, I'm gettin' to it! Your family--" Ah. Yeah. He had called them that, hadn't he? "--didn't have time to say much at first. Mister Cape pulled out his sword--somehow, he had the actual Master Sword, what's up with that?!--and did this thing with it Something about purifying a corrupted forest spirit and getting it out of you? I dunno, that kinda went over my head if I'm being honest,... Anyways, the sword burned up his hands pretty bad, so I pointed him and a bunch of the others towards Kakariko so they could find a healer or something. Mister Scarf, Mister Armor, and Freckles headed to the castle to try and get an audience with Zelda for help, in case the whole sword thing didn't work."

Legend frowned, taking a moment to digest all that. So Sky had tried to use the Master Sword to exorcise him? And apparently it had worked? But he'd hurt himself. Now Fable might get involved, and not only would he get the ass-chewing of the century, but she'd be wasting her time she could be spending not worrying about a brother that was okay, really. Legend sighed. "I guess we're gonna have to wait until they get back, then," he said. "Think you can untie me? I'm guessing these were put here in case I woke up and was... not myself." Come to think of it, how had he stayed out that long? Had Hyrule used sleeping potions? That had to be it, there was no ay he would have been out for the entire trek from the Lost Woods to his house otherwise.

A mischievous light glinted in Ravio's eyes. "Hm... I'm not sure, how do I know you're not just that evil, corrupted spirit impersonating Link? Think you can prove you're not?"

"Fucker-- you know damn well I'm not!"

"Mmm, I dunno~"

Legend seethed. "Fine, when you started your 'rental shop' or whatever, the thing that pissed me off the most was that you moved my goddess-damned bed. That good?"

Ravio clapped his hands together, and Sheerow chirped from somewhere across the room. "It really is you, Mister Hero!" he exclaimed cheerfully, going to work at the knot holding Legend's hands together.

He would still be working at it when Time, Warriors, and Hyrule returned with Fable to the sound of Legend screaming at him to just cut the damn thing.

[3pirouette]

For the WIP game: Peggy thinking

For the WIP ask game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

So... I have NO idea where this was going. Literally none. Probably just some hurt/comfort I had an idea for that I never went back to...

Here's all that exists... completely unedited.

Peggy took another swig of the brill that Dum Dum had called Scotch and sighed. They were all still asleep, and she was glad. She didn’t want any of them to see her with tears running down her face, silent or not.

It was hard enough being a woman in the army. They respected her well enough, but she couldn’t take it if the Howling Commandos started treating her with kid gloves and referring to her as “delicate.”

She wasn’t, not at all. She still needed to cry sometimes, though, and that wasn’t really all that convenient when there were in the middle of the German forest, fifteen miles from friendlies and in desperate need of a break.

“I’ll do it,” Steve had argued. “Another night up won’t bother me.”

Peggy had shaken her head. The men were up for drawing straws, but Steve had insisted, again.

Out in the field like this she knew it meant one tent, tight quarters, and she was quickly losing the ability to hide her emotions.

“No, I’ll do it,” She said, straightening up and garnering no responses to the contrary. Peggy pulled the tent pack from Steve’s back and tossed it at Morita. “I’ve slept every night since we’ve been on the joint, and every man has stayed up at least once,” she eyed Steve, who volunteered no more than five time. “We’re one day away from our rendezvous, the least you can all afford me is a night away from your horrendous snoring.” She kept a straight face, but it broke quickly with Dum Dum’s laugh.

“Ah, Peg, you shouldn’t have to stay up,” he barked, delighting in making her smile. “We’re all perfectly fine.”

She knew she needed the time, she knew she couldn’t hide sniffles inside the tent, especially from Steve who always made sure to sleep with his back to her, and several inches away, creating a small bubble of privacy for her while the group of men nearly dog-piled in the middle. It was all well and good, and most nights she appreciated their gallantry. Tonight was not one of them. “Well,” she started, wandering around as the commandos started setting up the tent. “You could take watch, Dugan, but then you’re going to be far more tired for tomorrow. When we get back to base.”

He shrugged, stopping from driving a spike into the ground to hold down the test. “So?”

“So… sleeping in all day is well and good, like you’re wont to do occasionally, but those lovely ladies fo the USO tour are only going to be around for the night…”

“It was a low trick, she knew. But it worked. Steve eyed her from the side, but didn’t say anything as the guys moved on to talking about how they were going to go dancing and take advantage of a night with some pretty ladies who weren’t technically in charge of them.

They’d said their goodnights, including Steve, who offered to stay up just one more time before letting his thumb rub gently over her cheek and disappearing into the tent.

She was left with the stars, Dugan’s private stash, and the stars as she let the tears run down her face.

They’d come across a farm. Just a little sheep farm in the middle of the German mountains. It was at least a days ride away from anything else. Their first clue that something was wrong had been the sheep, full of wool, they’d staggered around, unsheared for far too long and creeping in and out of a broken fence. The house had been quiet, and dusty, until they found the upstairs.

There had been a family there.

A father, who was missing.

A mother, dead at the foot of her child’s bed, her little girl in her arms.

A Baby, silent and unmoving in it’s crib.

They’d been there for months, frozen in time, decaying slowly with each passing day.

At first, they hadn’t known. They weren’t sure. But then Morita had pulled the uniform from the closet, the red arm band of the SS burning bright into their retinas, the octopus pin of HYDRA shining bright from the lapel.

They didn’t know what had happened, but they could all guess.

They’d marched silently after that.

Peggy had thought, staring at Steve’s back, letting his footsteps blindly guide her over tree roots and through the underbrush.

[chyrstis]

WIP Friday!

Tagged by the wonderful @johnnycranes @englass @scungilliwoman   @adelaidedrubman @lilwritingraven @fadedjacket @faithchel @stacispratt @gamerpurgatory and @prometheas! I hope you all know how much I appreciate these tags over the past week and am glad to finally be able to show off some work I’ve got brewing too! <3

Tagging: @writerofblocks @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @amistrio @shallow-gravy @tommymillers @jackiesarch @geronimo-11 @ma-sulevin @nightwingshero @shellibisshe @redroci @unlikelynick @jackalopestride @chazz-anova @solesurvivorkat @its-jeph @consumedkings @vasiktomis and @aceghosts but no obligation intended at all, especially if you’ve posted snippets recently. 

I’ll start this off with a little bit from the No Cult AU, b/c I’m so close to getting this one done now and I’ve really missed this verse too. Just a bridging section’s needed, so here’s Sharky trying to say hi to Joseph in the meantime. 

---

They’d made it, and sure, he was short one hell of a heroic kiss for a job well done, but he was still feeling pretty good about pulling it off to begin with, and after a few handshakes and sloppy fistbumps later, was ready to get back to the reason he’d been on the road to begin with. Making sure every speaker down at Moonflower was able to sing.

He whistled, picking back up on the beat he’d settled on earlier, only to have it quickly reach a pitch only dogs could hear when he caught Joseph Seed heading towards him.

“Charlemagne,” he called out, greeting him, “this is a pleasant surprise.”

He picked his jaw up, clamping his mouth shut for a few seconds, before finally working his way to a proper response. “Uh, yo.”

“Is John with you?”

“John? Nah, he’s-we’re not on for today. Probably off flying, or doing you know, lawyer stuff. Dotting Is and crossing Ts, shaking hands and smiling all big and wide while talking to people so they think you’re listening to ‘em, like you do.”

Joseph folded his hands in front of him, and hummed in response even though he’d started frowning a bit.

“But anyway, I uh, in case you’re wondering why I’m here, I caught a couple of your people on the side of the road. Was going towards Moonflower to get my set up ready for some fresh tunes, ‘cause the last time I was there the wires shorted, probably had something chewing on them when I wasn’t looking, but they’d pulled over. I saw they needed a hand and helped ‘em get here. Didn’t even have to piss in the radiator to do it either.”

“That’s-“ Joseph was definitely giving him a look that reminded him almost straight up of John, but shook it off. “Fortunate…?”

---

I’m definitely still plugging away at the Trap fic too, so here’s a part that I’m hoping to get to within the next few chapters? *crosses fingers*

---

“Give me all of their names, one by one.”

They were listed off. Repeated each without a single tremor.

“Have any of them transferred to the plant within the last month?”

“Yes.”

Hana’s eyebrows climbed up.

“How many?”

“Three members, all of whom are still at the plant. I have their-all of what they’ve packed. Where they’ve transported it, and-”

“And have you at any point before now seen any cause for concern in their behavior? Think very carefully, William. What happens next is going to depend on you.”

The silence that carried through after that stretched long enough for her to think the recording had ended, but she heard a throat clear. A shaky breath, then William’s voice again. 

“...Nothing at first. They’ve been hard workers. Reliable. We trusted them, but when they fell behind, they would frequently help each other. That had to have been when the fertilizer was first taken.”

“Early tomorrow, I will need both you and Sister Rebecca at the ready. I don’t want a single word of this to be shared with anyone on the premises, not a single soul, because our little would-be conspirators could get wise, and the last thing we need is to make them aware of it. Now, they could prove to be innocent, that is true, but until then we must be careful. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes, Herald.”

“It takes great courage to do this William. To bring these things directly to my attention since these are claims that will not be taken lightly. But until the truth has been found, and we know for certain that our brothers and sisters can be trusted, we will remain vigilant, and and if this proves to be true, you will be rewarded for this. That I promise you.”

---

...And maybe a little something saucy I’ve been poking at for a while for Hana and Sharky on the side? This also jumps way ahead in their fic timeline too since I do feel a bit bad for subjecting these two to so much pining hell in their current one. :’D

---

“Morning,” Hana said, giving him a soft smile.

Cracking open an eye to look at her, a grin settled on Sharky’s lips, and he shifted onto his back so that his face was no longer buried in the pillow clasped between his arms. His hair was sticking out in every direction, and when he scrubbed a hand through it, he messed it up even further.

“Mm, morning.”

It had her breath catching just for a second. Just seeing him damn near beam up at her, when all she’d done was wake him up.  

So she took that view in. Smiled right on back as she rethought her original plan, which had been to head down to the cafeteria and sneak them both a couple of cups of coffee to bring back, but she’d forgotten just how nice it was to catch him like this. To wake up on the days when neither of them had an early shift and find him right there next to her.

So, she went through a few options. Turned them over in her mind as she chewed on her lip, and he started to doze off again.

Fisting her hand in the sheet, she pulled it right off of him, and his eyes snapped open.

“Whoa, what the-“

Her shirt was drawn up and over her head after, and whipped to their right. She hadn’t bothered to put on anything else under it, mostly using it to keep the chill off, but she had him now. Crawled up and over him, soaking every last bit of it up as he blinked at her before everything clicked into place.

[youmustbestrongernow]

ok so no one asked for it, but i was going through some of my wips and missing davenzi, i keep seeing so many good posts lately and all it does is make me yearn for them. anyway i found an old uni au that i was writing, and it just made me smile, so i thought i’d share a little bit of it because like i said i miss them, and this one is fun and different from a lot of my other fics. plus i have been assured that these little snippets and random bits of stories are wanted and not annoying, even if they’re a bit on the messy side. so that’s what this is, i know it’s random but i just wanted to share.

Matteo groaned and looked around the room as everyone got into their pairs, chattering excitedly. He knew there was only going to be one person left and his heart sank. Sure he was doing a lot better than he had been last month, but he didn’t know if he was ready to deal with David yet. David hated him, which Matteo got, he had almost cost him a grade. But Matteo wasn’t sure if he could take David’s anger right now without bursting into tears. Ok, he wasn’t that bad, but he was still feeling fragile. He didn’t want to let David know that, though. He wasn’t going to use his depression as an excuse. Matteo had let him down, there was no doubt about it.

Still there was nothing else he could do, so he took a deep breath, grabbed his rucksack and approached David’s desk.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” David muttered, glaring at him.

Matteo just stood there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He shrugged and smiled at David. David may hate him, but Matteo didn’t hate David. He thought he was really cool. He’d been so excited at the chance to work with him last month. Then his dad and his stupid brain had gone and ruined everything. There was no fixing that, but perhaps he could make it up to him. Help him get a really good grade for this project. And if he got to spend time with David, well that was a bonus. Jonas would probably think he was crazy, willingly spending time with someone who hated him, but it was almost easier. There was no disappointing someone who already thought the worst of you.

“Why is it always you?” David demanded.

“Erm… everyone else is scared of you,” Matteo said.

It just slipped out, he hadn’t meant to say that; it was rude. It was true though, David had quite the reputation. He was a loner, no friends, didn’t go to parties or have fun. He was there to study. But it didn’t help that he was snappy and aggressive, didn’t have much patience with others.

The one social thing he seemed to do was football. Matteo had seen him play. Jonas was on the team too, and Matteo went to watch. They both knew he wasn’t really there to watch Jonas. David was a vision on the pitch, graceful and focussed. He was easily the best player. But he was often sent off for being too aggressive. He had a lot of anger did David and people were scared of him.

David glared. “And you’re not?” he asked calmly.

Matteo blushed, he couldn’t help it. “Terrified,” he admitted. “But, there’s no one else. Everyone knows I’m a lazy waste of space, so I don’t really have any options.”

A strange look passed over David’s face for a second before he schooled it back to his usual glare. “I guess so,” he said quietly, like he didn’t really mean that.

Matteo swore he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t need David’s pity so he carried on.

“Look, I am sorry about before, for fucking up. I promise I’ll do better this time, and… if you want you can come over to mine to brainstorm, and I’ll cook you dinner, to make up for screwing you over.”

That was a good apology right? Everyone loved free food. Apart from David apparently, he eyed Matteo suspiciously.

“Can you even cook?”

“Pasta?” Matteo offered.

“Fine, tomorrow night we’ll storyboard, and you will make me dinner,” David said, getting up from the desk and walking off.

Matteo just stared after him. “Bye then,” he said quietly, more to himself than to David.

Fuck. He was in trouble now. David Schreibner was coming over to his for dinner. Matteo apparently had a deathwish because at this rate if the food wasn’t good David might just kill him. Still, he couldn’t help but be excited. He could cook and maybe, just maybe David would forgive him for before. They could work together on this new project, and he might even be able to show David that he wasn’t completely useless. Hell, they might even have fun.

[zeldaelmo]

🏅💖🖊

Hey, thanks for the ask!

🏅 So, you want me to name another thing I'm proud of. Ok... let's see. Tomorrow is the day, my first fic is one year on Ao3. That means, I'm a writer for one year now! That's cool. I'm very proud of being a writer.

💖 I like writing dialogue. That's something that usually first pops up in my head, sometimes even long before I've decided about the scene itself. It happens that I construct a 10k one-shot around one line of dialogue that wouldn't leave my head. So, that's something I enjoy and my readers have told me that they enjoy it, too, so yeah, I like my dialogues.

🖊 Since it's WIP Wednesday anyway, I'll just post my snippet here. It's from 'shadows', the fic that I'll probably publish next (It's meant to be part of a challenge that has a deadline on 08/01, so technically I should finish it soon, but I'm a little stuck.) Surprise, it's dialogue! 😅

She turned when something clattered to the ground, the metallic sound echoing from the wall of the house.

Link gaped at her, mouth open, pants wet from the water bucket that had slipped from his hands. She gaped back.

Only when she realized that she had interrupted him tending to the horses, did she take a few steps towards them.

How was that even possible?

"You… you found Storm."

He squinted his eyes, then looked back at the white stallion.

"Storm." He face-palmed slowly. "Of course. Storm. I knew it was something with the weather. Ah… sorry. I named him Sun. After your…" He stopped, shook his head, and bent to pick the bucket up.

After her… what? But before she could dwell on that let alone ask, she remembered why she was here and her throat closed.

Link kneaded the brim of the bucket in his fingers, staring at something behind her. She wished she had a bucket to abuse, too.

He cleared his throat. "I… I have his saddle and all that, too. I can prepare him so that you can t-take him with you. You know, for making a fancy impression." He gestured to the braid in her hair. "P-princess-like. Or... or queen."

"I didn't come for the horse."

The bucket sunk. "Right. You didn't know I had him. I kinda forgot to mention until…" He trailed off again before starting anew, "Why did you come?"

She closed her eyes and blew a breath out. You, always you.

"Impa forced me to talk to you."

"Ah, well. Here you are, talking to me. She got her will."

"That's not what she meant, I guess."

He looked up through his lashes and met her eyes for the first time. "Maybe not."

[xbladekitkat85]

Why Clint is on Tony’s Sh*t List

Word count: A bit over 3k.

Chapter summary: Peter and Harley are brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Which is highly classified knowledge that nobody outside of the Avengers knows. Until Clint Barton accidentally spills the secret with a technology related mishap.

Warnings: A bit of language here and there. Tony threatening Clint’s life because he did an oopsie.

Peter's POV

In the school that is Midtown School of Science and Technology, everyone is basically a genius of some sort. You have biology geeks, math geeks, chemistry geeks, robotics geeks. You name a branch of STEM subjects, there are guaranteed to be at least 5 masters in every subject.

That being said, being a master in a subject doesn't mean that you would be instantly popular. Sure you might get hounded for homework help, but it doesn't mean you actually make friends as easily. It's more like people want to leech off of your knowledge and don't bother to get to know you.

There's a social pyramid in all schools and let's just say I'm towards the bottom of mine. I build Lego sets, I love Star Wars, I'm a whiz at chemistry and math. But people ignore the fact that I'm 'somewhat' intelligent and focus on the Lego and Star Wars part of my image. Which sucks big time. At least I'm graduating this year.

But at least I have my brother Harley to confide in. We argue over stupid stiff but we both enjoy poking fun at each other.

3rd person POV

Peter was sitting at his usual table with his small group of friends. Ned, MJ, and Betty made up this small group of people.

"So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" Ned asked the group.

"Uhhhh, I was planning on going to see that new movie coming out." Betty answered. "You know, the one with Emilia Clarke and what's his name."

"Oh yeah, I know which one you're talking about." Ned replied.

"You losers can go see a movie, I'm going to a protest outside of Oscorp." MJ replied, sipping her thermos of coffee.

"What did Oscorp do?" Peter asked curiously.

"They're trying to cover up an employee getting severely injured, the safety protocols are shitty, and HR is as usual, the worst part of it all in addition to the censorship of the incident online."

Peter nodded his head, eyes widened.

"Gotcha. I definitely understand why you're going."

MJ set her thermos down and opened her latest book, Speak.

Ned turned to look at Peter.

"Stark internship all weekend?" He inquired.

Peter shrugged and took a sip of water.

"I'm gonna hang out with Harley. Probably do some stuff in the lab. Usual stuff."

Betty shook her head in disbelief.

"I still can't believe you're friends with him." She said. "He's pretty high on the social ladder here. I mean I know you guys have the internship together but it's still kind of baffling that I never see you interacting in school."

Ohhhhh, if you only knew Betty. Peter laughed to himself on the inside.

Nobody at school knew that Peter and Harley were half brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Not even Ned or MJ knew although he suspected that MJ somehow knew or was close to figuring it out. She's scarily perceptive and freakishly good at knowing things about other people that she definitely shouldn't.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

The four friends parted ways and headed to their respective classes.

*After school*

Peter arrived at the tower straight from Delmar's after picking up snacks for the weekend. He had grabbed an assortment, ranging from potato chips to pretzel M&Ms.  He waved at Ms. Maldonado, the lady who commanded the reception area and dashed to the elevator, scanning his pass when prompted.

FRIDAY greeted him when the doors closed.

"How was your day Peter? Harley is already waiting for you. He told me to tell you, and I quote, "Peter, I hope you remembered my PRETZEL M&Ms not PEANUT M&M's like last time. If you forgot, I'm going to steal that new Lego set you were planning on building tomorrow. And I WILL hide it somewhere you'll never, ever, find it. Insert maniacal cackling, blah blah blah."

Peter stifled a laugh at Harley's message.

"Uh, well my day was the usual, you know. And tell Harley I got his stupid M&Ms. And I grabbed him something else too if he promises not to threaten the Legos again."

"Sure thing, Peter."

He exited the elevator to the floor which housed the labs he shared with Harley. There were multiple as the duo tended to accidentally blow things up and would need to have another place to work while repairs were being done. Needless to say, Tony was more than a little annoyed that his kids needed multiple labs because they kept blowing them up. But whatever, he loves them and will pay for it as long as he gets to blackmail them with all the ridiculous stories of what blew up and how it happened.

Harley looked up towards the door Peter walked through and lifted his welding mask off his face.

"Hand over the merchandise, blockhead." He said, his arm stretched towards the bag of goodies Peter was carrying.

"Only if you promise to leave the Legos alone, biotch." He replied.

Harley rolled his eyes and dramatically lifted his hand in the air as if he was testifying in court.

"I promise not to touch the Legos." He said in a half joking tone.

Peter handed him the pack of M&Ms as well as a container of Oreos.

"I still don't understand why you like pretzel M&Ms." Peter remarked. "There's too much pretzel and not enough chocolate."

Harley stared directly at him as he tore open the M&Ms and popped a few in his mouth.

"I don't understand why you don't like pineapple on pizza." Harley shot back as he swiveled around in his chair

Peter groaned.

"We are not having this discussion again."

"Peter you're an idiot if you don't like pineapple on your pizza."

"Harley, you're a disgrace to the entire state of New York if you do. Fruit is not supposed to go on a proper pizza."

Harley chucked a bolt at Peter's head.

"Hey!" He protested as he turned to look at Harley. And then he saw a glint in Harley's eyes.

"Pizza is a dish with everything from the food pyramid. You have grain, dairy, meat, vegetables, fats, and oh, wait, you don't like pineapple so you're missing out. You could be getting every nutrient from the food pyramid but you're an idiot so you miss your daily serving of delicious pineapple on your pizza."

"Oh my god, stop."

The boys busted out laughing for a full 3 minutes, eventually with Harley falling out of his chair. Tony walked in to find his kids cackling at who knows what, and one on the floor, almost incapacitated by his laughter. He sighed before clearing his throat to gain their attention.

The boys sobered up and finally stopped laughing but they had unshed tears left from the fun.

"What on earth were you two dying of laughter over? Should I call a therapist? Do I need to be concerned? Did you eat something that you shouldn't have?"

Harley sniggered as Peter was trying to keep a straight face.

"He was eating pretzel M&Ms!" Peter said, holding back his laughter. "The type that should be illegal!"

"Peter, you don't diss Pretzel M&Ms, they're an underappreciated member of the M&Ms family. If you think pretzel M&Ms should be illegal, you clearly haven't tried the raspberry ones." Harley replied while doing his best to keep his face straight. "If anything, you should call a therapist for Peter and help him overcome his aversion to pineapple on pizza."

Tony looked even more lost than he was before.

"Ok, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of this. FRIDAY, show me footage of what the hell happened while I wasn't here."

"Sure thing boss."

Friday pulled up security footage of Harley and Peter's conversation. Tony watched it as the two teens were snickering behind him. After he understood the situation he turned to his kids and let out a tired sigh.

"Ok, I don't understand your sense of humor, but I came to tell you that we're having Italian for dinner."

Peter pumped his fist and Harley just shrugged.

"Italian is fine by me I guess."

"All right kiddos, be in the dining room by 7ish or else I'll cut the power to these labs. We eat as a family."

*Time skip*

It was 2 am, Monday morning and everything was silent except for the faint noise of shuffling towards the ceiling.

Clint Barton was crawling around in the vents, obviously on his way to do something he probably shouldn't be.

He had lost a bet with Nat earlier and the punishment was that he had to steal something for blackmail off of FRIDAY's databases.

He quietly dropped out of a vent shaft into an important looking office. He didn't bother checking who it belonged to but he was already too far gone to ask.

"Ok Nat, what do you want me to look for?" He whispered into his earpiece.

"Check the computer on the desk. The password is written on a sticky note in your pocket."

He checked his pocket and there was indeed a post it with a password on it.

"Ok, what am I supposed to find?" He asked once he logged in.

"Look for footage from the labs." She said. "Check labs CTS2 and IAI1."

"CTS2 and IAI1, gotcha." He reaffirmed.

He browsed around until he found the cameras he needed.

"Ok, found em. What dates should I look at?"

"Look at this past Friday," She answered, "around 4:45 to 6:15 pm. Tony drank from a can of motor oil instead of his coffee cup. I would like this footage in my posession. For my entertainment, and possibly blackmail to pull on him."

"All righty, ok, uhhhh." He muttered as he searched through that window of time.

He watched snippets of the footage and fast forwarded a few times until he glimpsed footage of Harley swiveling around in his chair as Peter looked exasperated. He paused and rewound to see what the situation was.

As Clint watched the whole argument play out and the aftermath, a shit eating grin began to spread across his face. He emailed himself the whole interaction for his own entertainment (blackmail, cough cough) and went back to searching for what he originally came for. He eventually found it, sent it to Natasha, logged out of the computer, and climbed into the open vent.

"You get it?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Oh yeah, I got it." He said, trying to hold back the mischievous laughter that was threatening to let loose. He checked his phone to see whether he got the email he sent to himself. But to his surprise and sudden panic, it was not there. His social media, however, was blowing up with comments about the two kids and who they were and theories people were spouting.

"Oh shit."

"What did you do, Clinton?" Nat asked in a threateningly monotone voice.

Clint banged his head on the vent, forgetting that he still had his comms on.

"I may or may not have accidentally exposed Peter and Harley as Tony's kids."

Nat was silent for a moment before she finally responded.

"Tony's probably going to kill you for this, so you should pack your bags right now. Make funeral arrangements as well and update your will."

"Ah shit."

*Monday morning, 6:45 am*

Peter woke up to his phone ringing. He groaned and turned on his side to ignore the call. The phone rang again and he sighed before reluctantly sitting up and grabbing his phone.

What the hell, who's calling this early?

He looked at his notifications and saw multiple missed calls and texts from Ned and MJ. Something must have happened because Ned had typed in all caps, 'PETER EVERYONE KNOWS! CALL ME NOW!' MJ's text just said, 'I knew already. Don't try to hide it from me whenever you come to school.'

Instantly, Peter was wide awake. Did the whole world know he was Spiderman? But how did this happen, who would leak that information and how did they get it?

He called Ned and before he could even say, "What's up?" Ned butted in with a sentence he was not expecting.

"Peter, when were you going to tell me your dad was Tony Stark?! This is even bigger than Spiderman! As your Guy in the Chair, I think this knowledge might have been missing in our conversations."

Peter was at a loss for words as he stood up.

"It's all over social media and people are going apeshit over this!"

"Ned, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet." Peter replied in a nervous tone as he began pacing back and forth in his room. "How do you know the source is credible? Remember what Ms. Hernandez said about credibility when giving information in an essays or whatever?"

"But Peter, Hawkeye was the one who posted it. You know, the Avenger who shoots arrows?"

Peter stopped pacing and froze midstep.

Uncle Clint was behind this? But why?

"You sure he wasn't hacked?" Peter asked as he feebly attempted to get out of this confrontation.

"No, it's security footage from a lab. Tony said in the video that you guys were a family."

Peter then realized that he couldn't worm his way out of this situation. The whole world knew he and Harley were brothers and the sons of Tony Stark. Of course this happened, why wouldn't it?

"I'm going to call you back, I need to talk to Clint." Peter said.

"Ok, just let me know if you and Harley are going to be ok or not." Ned replied.

"Bye Ned."

"Bye."

Peter hung up and took a deep breath before leaving his room to go find Clint.

He entered the kitchen and almost everyone was there except the one person he wanted to talk to.

"Hey, uh, where's uncle Clint?" Peter asked.

Uncle Steve looked up from his breakfast.

"He left last night. Family emergency."

"Uh huh, so correct me if I'm wrong but Clint left because dad was going to kill him, right?"

Suddenly everyone was avoiding eye contact with Peter. Yup, everyone knew what happened.

Just then, Tony walked in with a very irritated expression.

"I don't think you and Harley are going to be able to go to school today. Some kid from your school, Dash or something posted you go to school with him and know you both. So there are multiple news stations outside the tower and surrounding your school. Might be best to just stay home today."

"Is Uncle Clint still alive?" Harley asked as he walked in, yawning.

"He is alive," Tony responded "Not for much longer though."

"Dad, you can't just kill him." Peter protested. "It's not like he actually did anything that warrants his death."

"I don't think he meant to do it." Harley added. "He deleted it maybe 10 minutes after he posted it but other people recorded it on their own devices and re shared it. He probably realized what he had done and tried to delete it but of course, once it's out there, it's out there."

"Don't kill Uncle Clint, he's got a wife and kids. Besides, we need him on the team." Peter said.

"We don't need Clint," Tony said, waving his hand. "I already got a replacement set up."

Peter had not heard of this new team member that was apparently going to replace Clint.

"Who is it?" Harley asked curiously.

"Kate Bishop. She's already on her way here. Clint trained her to take over the mantle of Hawkeye anyway so it shouldn't be that big a deal." Tony shrugged. "She's a bit older than you two, 18 or 19, I can't remember at the moment."

"Ok, then, as long as she's trusted by you." Peter relented.

"Don't know what she might be like, but if Clint trained her, and they share similar personalities, whatever spirits above help us." Harley said solemnly.

Peter smacked Harley's arm.

"Hey!" He complained.

"She's not even here yet and you are badmouthing her already. Have some manners, dude."

"It doesn't matter at the moment right? You said it yourself, she's not here yet and I will 'have some manners' when she does."

All of a sudden, Peter heard a nearly imperceptible shuffling coming from above. He felt a shiver go down his spine and the instinct to get into a defensive position.

"He's right, you should have some manners young man." An unfamiliar voice boomed from above.

Harley looked around wildly in confusion.

"Who's there?! Are you a spirit from above???" He asked.

All of a sudden, a figure dropped out of the vent directly above Harley and tackled him to the ground.

"And that is Kate Bishop." Tony said, answering the question in everyone's mind.

Kate released Harley from her grip and she helped him up.

"Clint was right," She said, smiling. "Crawling through the vents to prank people is fun."

She looked up to the open vent and held out her arms, to everyone's confusion.

"Lucky, come on down!" She called.

To everyone's shock, a dog with one good eye poked his head out from the vent and jumped into Kate's arms.

"Oh crap, nobody has allergies to dog dander, right?" Kate asked, looking at everyone.

"Maybe? I'm not sure." Peter replied.

"Damn, I should have checked before bringing him, huh." Kate muttered.

Tony waved his hand at the dog.

"As long as he's potty trained, we should be fine." He said, trying to reassure her worries. "We're all fine with dogs."

Peter thought back to all the dogs he's pet on patrol. They always seemed happy to play with him and now there was a dog in the tower. Huzzah, he didn't get to only pet dogs on patrol now!

"Well, all's well that ends well, right?" Peter said.

"How about everyone gets acquainted with Kate?" Tony suggested. "It's not like you two are going to school today anyway."

Peter and Harley agreed and that day became a get to know the new team member day.

Peter texted Ned to let him know he was going to school the next day and invited him to the tower after school to meet someone. Oh the look on Ned's face when he found out would be priceless.

Taglist:

@frostedgiant

Send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

[firewoodfigs]

a smorgasbord of unbidden thoughts / highlights (long post ahead!): 

we’re slowly creeping out of the lockdown, and we’re allowed to go out for meals now! I got to meet a friend for dinner on Monday and he treated me to some amazing Italian fare as a belated birthday gift :’) I was really craving Italian after watching Luca and I haven’t had good pasta in a long while, so that was really nice. I also met a friend for dinner today after work, and we’re just glad to have made it to Friday tbh lmao. it was nice catching up again after so long and talking about everything under the sun (in this case, under the moon). I love spending time alone and having time myself, but I can’t deny that I’ve also missed interacting with other sentient life forms lmao. 

I managed to re-schedule my vaccine slots, and I'm getting my first shot tomorrow! fingers crossed it won’t be too bad (I still wanna be able to type through the soreness 😩). I'm a little nervous tbh because I absolutely detest needles, but I feel like at this point I just don’t care anymore LMAO. it also helps that my bf and I got the same vaccination slot, so I guess I'll just make a ruckus and be a nuisance if things go south. jk 

next week’s my last full week of work before my two-month break begins! I'm really excited to finally get a breather from work (although to be fair I've only been working for like... 6 months lmao rip) before things get real hectic in September haha. I'm definitely not looking forward to the added responsibilities, and i’m honestly not sure how to feel about getting called to the bar because everyday is just a flurry of shit, am I really cut out for this and help, work is dulling my * sparkle * and yo, you think I can just move somewhere west and be a country singer? but oh well. too late I guess. I'm too deep in debt to get out now LMAO. jk 

on the bright side, though, I received news today that I’ve been designated to my preferred area of practice for my next seat :) and i'm pretty excited about that! I've honestly been feeling pretty desiccated about the law ever since starting practice because it’s so different from whatever I've studied and something that college couldn’t have possibly prepared me for lmao (many thoughts but I don’t want to turn this into an essay so I will simply project my feelings onto my favourite war criminals)

it’s been a struggle to create lately, for various reasons. these days it feels like anything I make is woefully inadequate and subpar and mediocre, and i’m just. constantly torn between striking everything out altogether and desperately wanting to be better, to feel better. I felt a little burnt out after royai week because  I was rushing to complete so many projects and ideas on time (I do tend to get a little overambitious and overzealous that way, haha), and so I tried to take a break, but I couldn’t properly rest, either, because these days I only feel alive when I'm... creating. LOL. it's like an unresolvable paradox where I slog to feel alive and then feel like death, and then feel like I'm wasting away and wasting time when I'm being unproductive and fruitless. idk, man. it’s probably the productivity guilt acting up or something. it doesn’t help that my mind is an unholy mix of anxiety and imposter syndrome and perfectionism, either, or that inspiration only strikes me at the ungodliest of hours. I find that it’s easier to write when I've cleared everything else on my plate, but sometimes it’ll be midnight by the time I've done that because there’s just so much to do. I end up writing at two in the morning and/or recording snippets of a putative song while half-asleep (the result is usually pretty dang awful, because I have no idea what I was saying when I listen to it the next day lmao).

I also find it to difficult to alternate between so many forms of writing. my job mostly consists of reading and writing (mostly boring and terribly dreary stuff, because lawyers have apparently never heard of punctuation or one-liners, and I am 100% proving this right now with my streams of consciousness), and my hobbies primarily include that, too. I've also been struggling to switch between writing prose/fic and poems and songs because i tend to focus on different things. (I also have the attention span of a goldfish. or a confused rat.) like, I focus a lot more on how things flow for the first, how things look for the second, and how things sound for the third, if that makes sense? but I also literally cannot focus on one thing at a time so everything is just a half-written mess and a smattering of my illegible scrawls tbh 😞 I'm hoping that I'll have more time to sit down and properly sort these out one at a time during my break hahaha. 

that being said, I read something this week about the four stages of learning a new skill LOL iirc it goes (1) unconscious incompetence (2) conscious incompetence (3) conscious competence (4) unconscious incompetence? I find that I'm stuck at (2) atm for a lot of things, which is probably why it’s so hard to go forth and do the damn thing without descending into a spiral of self-doubt haha. the truth is I rely on external reassurances and validation a great deal to tide me through, because my mind is just so used to criticising myself for everything and being my own harshest critic that it’s become a challenge to objectively assess my own work. it’s probably a defence mechanism to feeling like failure is not an option and/or my upbringing or something, and it’s how I’ve coped with a lot of things, but I'm also coming to realise that it’s not always the healthiest way to live haha. 

BUT, you know. at the end of the day it’s a hobby and it’s supposed to be fun and joy-inducing and. it’s so easy to ruin all of that in the process of pursuing perfection so. I think i’ll just work on attempting the damn thing and worrying about it afterwards 🤠 (and also being less exacting on myself haha) 

ending things on a lighter and brighter note - I received a lovely surprise from a friend this week!! I ordered some earrings from her (the stuff she makes is the stuff of DREAMS) and she tossed in a necklace for me and it’s just. it’s beautiful. it’s handmade. it’s astounding. I'm weeping.