#femslashers unite!!

[cosmereplay]

Oh hey three weeks until femslash February. I've got a Lyn/Laran comic I swear I will finish. What're you gonna create to celebrate the ladies of the cosmere who fuck/romance/love each other?

[elsefaller]

The 1st draft of my Khrissalla/Vivenna fic has gotten wildly out of hand. It was meant to be a oneshot, instead it’s 9 chapters and a possible sequel if I’m bored

[pxme-granate]

[ori-anna-v-58008]

Every Morning After

(cw pain, blood)

She left you with almost nothing last night; you clung to her as long as she let you, but as a shadow leaves after the setting sun, she evacuated your quarters mere moments after piercing your neck and drinking until she was full and sick of your blood. You called out to her by name, over and over and over, words falling onto the deaf nothing of the world outside. You cursed the quiet, empty space beside you in bed, the one you kept in case she ever wanted to stay through the night with you. Not that she ever would. Instead, she disappeared for days, sometimes weeks at a time, and you'd never get a notice she'd be coming around.

The only thing able to rouse you from your painful respite is the aching memory in your neck. She was never far from your thoughts, but when you move and feel that searing passion, everything floods back. You forget yourself. For just a moment, you forget your pain; the association itself breeds momentarily endless pleasure as if you were still feeding her. You want to sustain her. You want to support her.

And that surge is enough to get you out of bed. Standing leaves your mind swirling and your legs shaking, and you reach for the cane beside your door. Your hand shakes as you grasp at it, and you just barely nudge it to clatter onto the floor. You do bend a handful of your vertebrae to pick it up, but the instant vertigo tells you that if you finish that lean, you won't be getting back up again. So you let it lie there, useless as your own legs. You swear she drank more than normal. You also know your own memory of every feeding is beyond hazy, and that she gets to do whatever she wants. She also gets to tell you to do anything; if you don't care for yourself, she won't come back. When that beautiful pain doesn't drag you out of bed, that ultimatum certainly will. You need to see her again as bad as she needs blood. You tell yourself it's equal, that she needs you as much as you need her - it makes you feel better, even if it's completely untrue.

You stagger to the kitchen, the countertops there your only support. The kettle feels so heavy you nearly drop it, but you manage to get it under the sink with a clatter - you know its base isn't able to shatter the ceramic plates you always leave over night. You've done it enough times. You grab the lever of the faucet, your blood pounding and rushing from your neck to your arm, and you can't close your hand around it. You see stars as you force it, your fingers closing with agonizing tension like forcing shut the jaws of a cardboard wrench.

Lifting it while it's even a bit full of water is nearly impossible. You rest it in an open palm and brace it against your chest, both of your hands rocking so much you spill some from the spout onto your bloodstained shirt. You do make it to the heating element, though, and force the switch on. You heave your breath, wishing you could lie down beside her, her firm touch the only thing keeping you alive.

She left a new box of tea right beside the heater, unopened. On the front was a sticky note, one taken from your own desk, with a little heart drawn on it.

"Enjoy every morning for me, Sunny.

-M"

You feel part of yourself trying to hate your new name, but it is impossibly weak. You have no idea what's in the tea - the note covers the ingredients. It's not like it matters; you would drink it if it were nothing but a bunch of hemlock if it meant another night with her. The box is difficult to open - she requires you keep your nails long, so you don't want to risk breaking them trying to pry the box apart. You have to use a knife, balanced so shoddily between your fingers it would've slipped without the friction of your fingerprints. You take one of the teabags - they were clearly made by M herself - and put it in your lightest mug.

When you pour the hot water in, you spill plenty onto the counters and some on the floor. You pretend you didn't singe your foot fucking it up. The water goes a deep brownish red as the mug fills, and the whole room smells fruity and dark like a chocolate strawberry. When you sip it… It tastes like her. It makes you feel like you can slump back, so you do, right onto the couch without a second thought. The sudden motion makes you spill more onto your bare leg, but another sip drains your focus into the liquid and before long, it's like you are made new. You swear that you can feel her near you, her arms wrapping around your midsection to bring your lower into your seat, her lips trailing sweet kisses from your cheeks to your neck, her hands down to your hips and up across your ribs…

But when you turn, you are as alone as you were minutes after she bit you. As alone as you were when you woke up this morning. It wasn't her bringing you into your comfort; it was your pain, the only companion you truly had, the only thing she would ever leave you with.

[warningsine]

LCU: Lyonne Cinematic Universe

[aimmyarrowshigh]

Sapphic September 2023

088. Ash - Olivia Benson/Alexandra Cabot - Law & Order: SVU

[arbitrarygreay]

The root of Talder tragedy

Tally doesn't think that intent is magic, but Alder kind of does? So, Alder often talks about having no choice, and how the ends justified the means (example: her decision to deploy the Citydrop privates), but ultimately, she falls back on her internal motive, that she did all of the things she did with the intent to protect her people. She believes that that is sufficient to engender (enough) trust between her and the unit to work together in 1x10. Tally is focused on the practical fallout of things. In 2x6, "[Alder] causes more problems than she fixes, doesn't she?" In 3x1, she beats herself up for accidentally compromising the Dodger facility. "Oh, if you ever need anyone to ruin everything, I am available. No, seriously. Alder, Penelope, now this? I may just be the Camarilla's greatest weapon." something something linked to how her Sight focuses her on how the world will be, not how she wishes. So, of course, these two mindsets collide in the worst possible way in 2x5. Tally is focused on the effect of Liberia leading to the creation of the Spree. Very notably, Alder immediately concedes the point that it was a bad call. "one of my deepest regrets", "an even deeper moment of personal failure", "prideful failings". She did the same in 1x10, easily conceding that she did all of the things the unit accused her of, holding that she wasn't the same as Spree simply because of her motive. In 2x5, what Alder fires back at Tally as the transgression that Alder is offended by isn't about the actions. She is incensed by "accusations of conspiracy and nefarious intent". Arguably, Alder does not pursue punitive action against Tally for this because Tally successfully protests the framework. "I just wanted answers" successfully shows that Tally was not looking at Alder's intent. Unfortunately, Alder and Tally are similar on this point of what stirs them to anger: to be willfully misunderstood. Alder tolerates the power-jockeying of her subordinates for the most part, so long as they're on the same page that it's all for the sake of protecting their people. For anyone to intimate that she does more selfish things is where she gets incensed. I wrote previously how Tally gets the most enraged when others impugn how she should feel. So, Alder thought that Tally attacked her intent (which is magic), but then let it go when Tally cleared that up. Unfortunately, in doing so she attacked how Tally should feel and act about it. And the root of the tragedy is that though they are similar in what moves them to anger, they are drastically divergent on how they act on that anger. Where Alder's reaction to slights is to rebuke then forget (because she has the power to do so), Tally's reaction to slights is to burn bridges. So, Tally doubles down on "it's about the consequences, intent is not magic" and tries to tear it all down. In 2x10, her empathy wins out. She says to both Nicte and Alder that she understands that they didn't have nefarious intent. However, this is Tally just sympathizing with them, not that she has changed her mind on what matters. She can't get over how her own actions seemed to have backfired, no matter her intent. (And so, this history fundamentally influences how Tally and Alder interact in S3, where they consciously try to avoid falling into the same failure modes with engaging with each other.)

[wipbigbang]

This is Round Three of the Artist Claims for the 2023 round of WIPBB. You may claim as many fics as you want this round. If you want only one fic, please fill out the form once with your top choices. If you want two fics, fill out the form twice with your first choice in the first form submission with one unique ID and the second choice in another submission with a different unique ID. If you want to claim three or more, fill out the form each time with a unique ID.

The synopses are located at https://wipbigbang.dreamwidth.org/172787.html

The form is located at https://forms.gle/RLv3ZuRYyJYMPB6c7.

Round three of the art claims will go on until July 8th.

Law & Order: SVU

#066

Title: Untitled

Pairing/Characters: Olivia Benson/Alexandra Cabot

Rating Mature | M

Warnings/Tags: No Warnings apply

While the subject matter of SVU means there are some mentions of sexual and/or domestic violence, all of it is tangential to the main characters via their respective jobs and none of it will be shown "on screen"

Summary: AU after Season 19's "Sunk Cost Fallacy". In which Alex leaves Olivia with the means to work together and Olivia eventually ends up taking her up on it - anonymously - while simultaneously rekindling their decades-old friendship. Inevitably, said friendship brushes up against the "something more" space while, even more inevitably, a situation with a family referred to Alex's DV network by Olivia gets them both in trouble.

[thethirdromana]

Women Who Know How to Duck

(Written for Star Trek Femslash Week 2024)

“A lesbian bar,” said Kira, hands on hips. “You want to set up a lesbian bar on Deep Space Nine?”

She had been on the way to the Replimat for her morning raktajino, and she had not welcomed being waylaid.

Quark attempted his most reasonable voice. Some would have described it as wheedling. “Now that Garak has moved back to Cardassia, there’s a free unit on the Promenade. You might not have noticed, but there are a lot of lesbians on Deep Space Nine, Colonel, and sometimes they like to go to bars. It’s good business to provide them with a suitable venue.”

Kira frowned. “Why do I think there’s something you’re not telling me?”

Read more on AO3

[doctorwho-femslashfeb]

Welcome to Doctor Who Femslash Febuary's second year!

Everything will be housed in this collection. Prompt List in plain text underneath the cut:

Alternate Universe

Rose

Second Chance

Regeneration

Martha

Post-Doctor

Kids/Families

Torchwood/UNIT

Donna

Embrace

Memories

Amy

Settled down/Wedding

Valentines/Holiday

Polyamory

Clara

Career

Past

Bill

Realization

Beach Dates/Swimming

Crossover

River

Vacation/TARDIS

Future

Yaz

Gender/Gender-Bend

Event/Party

Time

[hugintheraven]

Finished Worm

Really enjoyed it, will be checking out the rest. Some spoilery, rambly thoughts:

I wonder how much of this was preplanned. Because there's a definite thematic resonance to the first thing we learn about Brockton Bay being that it sucks because the Ferry is broken, cutting off the two parts of the city, and then Taylor's essentially last act being to punch a bunch of holes between realities so that everyone can unite, and I have to wonder if Wildbow intended that from the start.

Taylor's characterization bugged me by the end. Not that it was unrealistic or anything(there's a reason 16-18 year olds shouldn't have unimaginable power), but someone at some point really needed to sit her down and dig some of her issues out of her psyche with a fork. Like, she has both a shrink and mandatory ethics classes as part of the Wards, did NONE of that take?

(which is also why I think I'm falling on the side of NOT shipping Lisa and Taylor, despite it basically being written for me. Lisa deserves better and she's smart enough to know it, even if she definitely loves her.)

But Taylor starting it off by getting tortured and refusing to ask for help because she knows no one will help her, and then how she ends it? That tracks, but also that sucks to a degree I don't love in my fiction. I saw her described as the hero of a Greek Tragedy once and yeah, I don't love those.

BTW, do we ever see Imp vs Regent's Dad? Because of the timeskip, that's probably the thing I was upset about missing most.

The mandatory no-homo started being funny at some point. It's partially an inverse Supernatural(and maybe the only one of those I've seen), in that there's so few male chars that you have to ship femslash just to make your fic functional. And Wildbow choosing to do that, to write a bunch of really good female chars and then be offended that people ship them, is just hilariously bad.

Anyways, yeah, was good. Will be reading the rest, but also wow there's a lot of words to all this.

[scarlet-witchery]

Day 6 — Femslash February — Cigarette Smoke

Mandy/Svet, playing with fire. (ao3)

@holymurdock @m4ndysk4nkovich @lovekenney

Svetlana had always known not to play with fire. It was one of the first lessons she learned as a girl, when her mother would put logs in their fireplace and set a cheery fire blazing in the hearth. The warmth of the flames always seemed to drive away the cold, and Svetlana had always looked forward to the first day every autumn when they brought in wood from the shed outside.

She didn't remember the first time she'd tried to touch the flames, exactly; just a sudden searing pain and her mother shouting. The lesson was still there, even if the memory had mostly faded by now. Play with fire and you'll get burned. She'd learned from that experience, made it part of the mantra she used to get through her life. Do what you have to in order to survive, but don't play with fire. Don't get burned. Smart girls lived another day, and Svetlana's mother always said she was a smart girl.

It was a hot summer evening, sticky with humidity and where they were all in as little clothing as possible so they could keep cool until the window unit could be fixed. Her piece of shit rainbow husband was on the couch, holding onto his orange boy with one arm and Yevgeny with the other. He'd taken her words to heart from their talk the morning after the christening. They had an understanding now—he did not give her bullshit about the baby, and in return she did not bother him or his boyfriend. Shit, she'd even found she liked the boyfriend well enough, once he'd managed to get out of bed and didn't act like a corpse anymore.

She found her carton of cigarettes and her lighter, grabbing them on her way out to the back porch. Even though she couldn't quite kick the habit completely, she had quickly put a rule into place that there would be no smoking or drugs done around her Yevgeny. The baby books had said it was bad for them, and Svetlana agreed. Rum was still the best for teething, though, no matter what the books said.

“I am going to smoke,” she told the boys. The orange boy—Ian—looked over at her and gave her a smile, which she returned. “Yevgeny is asleep?”

“Like a fuckin’ rock,” Mickey said. “Best part about the kid.”

Ian messed with Mickey's hair, grinning because he knew his boyfriend couldn't retaliate while holding the baby. “Yev is adorable all the time,” he said, and Svetlana kissed the top of his head in thanks.

“Carrot boy is right—Yevgeny is good baby. Put him in crib if you want, I will take him to room when I come back.”

She walked outside to the back porch, the sounds of the city at night growing louder as she opened the door. The shouts and sirens were familiar to her now; not even the occasional pop of a gunshot fazed her as she lit her cigarette and brought it to her lips. Svetlana took a deep drag, letting the nicotine burn her lungs. The red cherry of her cigarette was bright in the last light of the sunset. As she sat down at the top of the stairs, the door opened behind her, closing with a soft bang.

“Hey,” came Mandy's voice. “Mind if I sit?”

Svetlana breathed out the smoke into the sticky night air. “Not a problem.” The stairs were narrow, so the two women sat with their shoulders and hips pressed against each other. Not that Svetlana would complain about it; Mandy was beautiful, and after things had fallen apart with Nika—Svetlana wanting more than Nika could give her—she didn't mind being squished in next to a pretty girl on a night like this.

She passed the cigarette over, and Mandy accepted it quietly. Their fingertips brushed against one another's, sending a small shiver up Svetlana's spine. Mandy took a drag off the cigarette, exhaling slowly, eyes fluttering closed in the faint traces of light. She was indeed very beautiful, Svetlana mused, the sharp lines of her features still soft in a way that made Svetlana a little curious. It made her wonder what it might feel like to tease out her secrets. They were two alike, Svetlana felt certain of that, and just because you were damaged goods didn't mean someone else couldn't find value there.

They continued to pass the cigarette between them until the cherry glow dimmed and there was nothing left but a bit of ash at the tip. Svetlana crushed it out and tossed it into a nearby ashtray. Then she turned, and found Mandy already looking at her.

“Shit, I-” Mandy started to say, but Svetlana was quick, pulling her in close with a gentle touch to her chin. Their lips met, the taste of nicotine from the cigarette smoke still lingering in their mouths. Mandy was soft and pliant, nothing like her usual harsh and sharp demeanor that Svetlana admired so much. Her lips parted and Svetlana let her tongue press into Mandy's mouth, wanting to take as much as she could get.

A small sound made its way out of the back of Mandy's throat, her hand coming up to cup Svetlana's jaw. Svetlana slid her own hand into Mandy's long, dark hair, beautiful and fine between her fingers. There were a few moments of push and pull, back and forth as they explored each other's mouths; Svetlana let her free hand trace across the front of Mandy's tank top, cupping one breast and earning her a short, cut-off moan in return. It made Svetlana grin, and she wondered what other sounds she could get this beautiful girl to make for her.

Finally they pulled away, Mandy's expression like that of a deer in the headlights. “Holy shit,” she breathed. “I didn't—but you-”

“I like choice,” Svetlana told her, brushing back some strands of hair in Mandy's face. “My husband is rainbow boy. He and orange boy rub dicks together, I do not care. We are not married like normal couple. Freedom to be him, freedom to be me. And you are too beautiful not to kiss.”

Even in what little light there was left outside, Svetlana could see Mandy's cheeks turn red with a blush. “I didn't, uh…I'm not gay—well. I don't think I am.”

Svetlana chuckled, tracing her fingers along Mandy's jaw. Mandy bit her lip and looked at her with a dark, almost hungry gaze. “Your eyes, they tell different story. Maybe you just never have had chance to find out.”

“You're fucking gorgeous,” Mandy blurted out. “I always thought so. I just…” But words seemed to fail her; instead, she leaned forward and kissed Svetlana again. There was the faintest trace of mint gum that mixed with the taste of cigarettes, and Svetlana smiled against Mandy's lips.

“Stay with me tonight,” Svetlana offered. It was a leap in the dark, and maybe it was another way of playing with fire. Maybe it was a chance for happiness, too—a chance for her to carve out something for herself in this life. She hadn't had much of that before, not since she was ten years old. America was a land of choice, a land of freedom. Freedom to choose—and she wanted to choose this beautiful girl.

She pressed Mandy up against the railing of the staircase, a hand on her hip; their position was somewhat awkward, but Svetlana didn't care, and it seemed Mandy didn't, either. She ran a hand through Svetlana's hair, twirling its waves around her fingers as her other hand cupped the back of her neck to pull her in closer.

“Yeah,” Mandy breathed, once they'd finally broken apart. “Yeah—I want that, too.”

Svetlana grinned, pulling them both to their feet. They stumbled inside the door, Mandy laughing even as she nearly tripped over her own feet. The boys had fallen asleep on the couch, Yevgeny in his bassinet on the floor—safe and sound. Svetlana turned to Mandy, taking her hands and kissing her fingers. She caught Mandy's gaze, saw her breath hitch at the gesture, and felt an ache throughout her whole body.

If this was playing with fire, maybe it wasn't the worst thing to get burned.

[neallo]

YURI, that means GIRL X GIRL, don't like don't read!!!!! (neallo edition)

a quick list of all my femslash fics for international lesbian day [divider credit]

series: together (always) 2 works | 7,040 words

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to) (1/2) rated E | 3,540 words

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. --- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world (2/2) rated T | 3,500 words

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

series: you got your eyes from the stars 2 works | 2,925 words

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night (1/2) rated T | 930 words

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away (2/2) rated T | 1,995 words

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

series: what doesn't kill me makes me want you more 3 works | 9,975 words

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more (1/3) rated M | 6,275 words | 3/? chapters

“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.

clean cut (bleed slow) (2/3) rated T | 2,000 words

The sting of alcohol is sharp on Mello’s split lip, but she suppresses the wince that threatens to surface. It’s bad enough that she lost her shit in front of Near; like hell she’ll let Near see her look weak, too.

a world transformed (3/3) rated T | 1,700 words

In which a gift transforms the way Near understands the world.

series: unforeseen circumstances 2 works | 10,515 words

unknown caller (1/2) rated E | 3,300 words

“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.

unexpected visitor (2/2) rated E | 7,215 words

By the time Mello makes her way to New York and into Near’s bedroom, she has both seriously pissed Near off (by using the murder notebook to kill half her organization) and permanently disfigured herself (by blowing up a building while she was still inside it). She’d imagined slightly rosier circumstances for taking Near’s virginity, but Mello is nothing if not adaptable. She’ll make do or die trying.

bury us both rated E | 23,438 words | 12/15 chapters

Mello is demonstrably capable of killing, and has perhaps more reason to want Near dead than anyone else on the face of the earth. They were once rivals, and Near knows a fragment of that resentment lingers even now. She is also likely the only person who could successfully bring Mello to justice, so her very existence is a threat to Mello’s, in a sense. If that weren’t enough, there is the fact that Mello could make a fortune, too, were she to kill Near. There are no shortage of people who would pay a handsome sum to see L’s head on a platter. And it would be so simple for her to do it, so easy. She’s had countless opportunities— the two of them alone, Near in all kinds of vulnerable positions, any number of potentially deadly weapons within reach— but she’s never taken one. Despite having every possible motive and every possible chance, Mello has not killed her. On more than one occasion, she’s even protected Near. This is how she knows Mello loves her in her way, even if she has not said it aloud. Even if it isn’t enough to make her stay. -- Mello and Near through the years, in love and in agony.

standalone one-shots

the end of a long winter rated T | 2,025 words

Five years after the end of their relationship, Matt visits Mello in Minneapolis and meets her not-so-new girlfriend, whose face is a lot more familiar than he’d been expecting.

leap day rated E | 1,770 words

“Just— take my word for it. It’s a thing. The stuff that happens on leap day doesn’t count. It’s like Vegas.” / Near’s brow furrows. “As in Las Vegas?” “Yeah. You know the saying— what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” “But we live in Chicago.” “Holy shit,” Mello snaps, “that’s not the point! The point is— it’s— it’s leap day. We can do whatever. It doesn’t count. Are you in or not?”

wedding doves & leather gloves rated E | 1,000 words

“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”

crying only because i’m happy rated E | 575 words

In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.

non-meronia

smeared lipstick (misa amane / kiyomi takada) rated T | 265 words

the first time misa amane kisses another woman, it’s only to mess up her lipstick.

pure luck (halle lidner / mail jeevas) rated T | 650 words

In which Matt has an incredible lucky streak.

[soulless-angel25]

So I have now chosen which characters will be written on each day for DW Femslash, I used a wheel spinner and respun a few times (in cases of same person being hit twice, it being river/amy, bill/doctor, and a few other exceptions). Also added the prompts for each day <3

Day 1, Alternate Universe- River Song/Rose Tyler Day 2, Rose- Rose Tyler/Donna Noble Day 3, Second Chance- Amy Pond/Trans!Rory Williams Day 4, Regeneration- River Song/Rose Tyler Day 5, Martha- Martha Jones/Trans!Jack Harkness Day 6, Post-Doctor- Martha Jones/Trans!Mickey Smith Day 7, Kids/Families- Rose Tyler/Trans!Tenth Doctor Day 8, Torchwood/UNIT- Donna Noble/Martha Jones Day 9, Donna- Donna Noble/Rose Tyler Day 10, Embrace- Clara Oswin Oswald/Rose Tyler Day 11, Memories- River Song/Rose Tyler Day 12, Amy- Amy Pond/Trans!Rory Williams Day 13, Settled down/Wedding- Rose Tyler/Trans!Eleventh Doctor Day 14, Valentines/Holiday- Rose Tyler/Clara Oswin Oswald/Trans!Tenth Doctor Day 15, Polyamory- Yasmin Khan/Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Day 16, Clara- Clara Oswin Oswald/Trans!Twelfth Doctor Day 17, Career- River Song/Yasmin Khan Day 18, Past- Clara Oswin Oswald/Rose Tyler Day 19, Bill- Bill Potts/Yasmin Khan Day 20, Realization- Amy Pond/Yasmin Khan Day 21, Beach Dates/Swimming- River Song/Trans!Eleventh Doctor Day 22, Crossover- Rose Tyler/Lucy Heartfilia (Fairy Tail) Day 23, River- River Song/Trans!Fourteenth Doctor Day 24, Vacation/TARDIS- Clara Oswin Oswald/Trans!Twelfth Doctor Day 25, Future- Amy Pond/Martha Jones Day 26, Yaz- Yasmin Khan/Clara Oswin Oswald Day 27, Gender/Gender-bend- Martha Jones/Genderbent!Mickey Smith Day 28, Event/Party- Rose Tyler/Trans!Ninth Doctor Day 29, Time- Rose Tyler/Trans!Ninth Doctor

[frie-ice]

After I made three femslash collages for Pride Month, I wanted to do some Slash collages. Starting with Ben Tennyson and Rex Salazar, as their crossover ship is pretty popular and the two have had a two-part crossover episode that have them meeting each other; Ben 10/Generator Rex: Heroes United.

[arbitrarygreay]

Thanks to musing over a MFS Symphogear AU, I came up with the crackship of Penelope/Khalida, so that's a thought that now exists in the world