#fic fair 2024

[chibikyuzo]

Calico Skies - Chapter 1 - chibiKyuzo - Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

This is my story on AO3. This is one of two stories, both in progress, that I have published there. This is the one I bother to have edited. I love this story but apparently shameless smut gets more attention, because my other work has more hits and kudos. Not that this fiction doesn't have mature themes.

Read whichever you like or both. Thanks.

[faeriekit]

Salt Mirror

phic phight fill with two prompts; for @echoghost1 and @fuyuthefoxwriter

(Sister fics are Snow Day, Snowdrift Sanctuary, and Frozen Out)

********

The first thing Danny noticed was the teeth. 

Or. Well. The first thing Frostbite noticed were the teeth. What Danny noticed was that suddenly he was being offered bigger and bigger bones with his meal, which were very much not typical human-appropriate food. 

“You break them,” Frostbite showed him, pinning the bone between two sharp canines and biting down. The bone broke clean in two. Hot-dog style. “Then you are free to eat the marrow inside.”

Danny stared. “I don’t… I don't think my teeth do that.”

“Try it,” his guardian encouraged. 

…Well. He hoped Far Frozen had as good a dentistry practice as they did medicine. Danny shoved the bone between his canine teeth, and clamped down—

—And the bone broke clean through. 

Huh. That was…new. 

Well. Marrow tasted good, anyway, and scooping the butter-soft marrow out with a spoon was easy. Danny might have clunked the wooden spoon against his teeth a couple times (man, was he clumsy today) but he was very happy with the results. 

The next day Frostbite offered him an arm-length rib bone, Danny didn’t even hesitate to chomp down. 

He ate through four ribs before he felt full. He was happy. 

*

The second thing Danny noticed was how pale he got. 

Like. As in ‘his arm matched the snow-white fur of his tundra-proof coat’ level pale. ‘White as a glacier and just as blue’ level pale. Like. There was no red left in his skin. 

He pressed his thumb to his palm. It went yellow, and then flushed back to white as his blood went back in. 

…Spooky. Uh. Danny blinked loudly. Maybe he was…sick…?

There wasn’t a mirror in their cave dwelling, and nothing was shiny enough to reflect in— everything that wasn’t medical was cast iron, or not quite mirror smooth, like Frostbite’s round cooking knives. 

Danny needed a mirror. 

He bundled up and walked through fresh snow drifts to the closest medical facility: an ice cave across from Ledyanoy and Avalanche’s home, carved into one of several dozen pillars of ice embedded into the floating island. Danny knew that there was a mirror there, since Frostbite went in for mirror therapy every time his ice-carved arm began to itch psychosomatically. 

He darted inside. Pritla was the only one in there, so they ignored him in their quest for additional data. Great. All Danny needed was the mirror set up in the corner, ready and waiting to be rolled into place for Frostbite’s next session. 

Danny peeked at his reflection. He looked…wow. 

For one, Danny looked spooky as hell. The blue went all around his eyes, now— no whites to be seen, creating an uneasy, inhuman look. He was pale. He was very pale. He looked like the printer had run out of any colors that might have given him some sort of standing to wander reality with. 

The insides of his lips were blue. The wet inner linings around his eyes were blue. 

…What. 

And. Speaking of…lips…his gums were a deep, sapphire blue, as was his tongue. None of that was as important as his huge freaking fangs, though!

Like! Huge! Not yeti huge, of course, but still!! Danny had no idea how they weren’t sticking straight out of his mouth when he closed it. Big, pearly fangs. 

What the heck was happening to him? 

*

“I think you’re turning into a Yeti,” Tundra decided primly, and flung himself at Arctic without any further thought. The teenage Yeti— still taller than Danny by two heads and a half— squawked, barely seeing the projectile cub in time to dodge appropriately. 

“No,” said Danny. It was more outright denial than certainty. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself. 

Avalanche, who was the closest to adulthood out of all of them, watched the two wrestle balefully. Tundra was barely out of cub age, and Arctic wasn’t much better than Sidney Poindexter when it came to having his crap together, so it was kind of like watching two frogs mud-wrestle in knee-high snow. 

“I mean,” said Avalanche, mostly bored by the spectacle of Arctic getting his butt whipped by what amounted to a kid, “I’m pretty sure it’s normal for human-born ghosts to adapt to their Obsessions after they form. You have to change a little to match your environment. And we have a lot of snow.” 

“So much!” Tundra howled from where he was perched on top of Arctic. His victory lasted as long as it took for Arctic to get his legs underneath himself, push himself to standing, and launch Tundra into a snow drift with a surprised squeal. 

Arctic shook himself off. His fur fluffed up with the effort, which made him look larger in size than usual. “I think that if you were turning into a yeti, Frostbite would have noticed. Or said something. Or done something.”

Avalanche shook her head, gamely ignoring how Tundra had turned from a fallen-in-the-snow position to a crouching-and-ready-to-pounce position. Danny had seen this a million times now; either Arctic would notice (he wouldn’t) and dodge, or he’d once again fall victim to Tundra’s childish enthusiasm. 

Danny and Avalanche largely had no comment on Tundra’s second leap of faith, nor for their mutual struggle for pubescent dominance that ensued. 

There were other questions to ask. 

*

“Am I turning into a yeti?” Phantom asked. 

Frostbite looked down. 

The half-ghost looked nervous— picking at his lip until green beaded under his teeth, his hands in the sleeves of his coat. 

“No,” Frostbite confirmed. He didn’t smile, as it would have seemed condescending in the face of Phantom’s genuine worry. It was better to keep calm. “Why are you worried about turning into a yeti?” 

Phantom stared up at him, eyes deep and luminous. Frostbite had seen similar coloration on deep-sea creatures, long-travelled things desperate for any sort of light. The sight was compelling, yes, but could not substitute for a verbal answer. 

“...Because I’m changing colors and now I have sharp teeth and I think I’m growing claws,” Phantom pointed out. All of these things were true. They were very good, sturdy teeth, and very good, sturdy claws, which was a good sign; anything otherwise would have indicated a lack of support on Frostbite’s end. 

“It is a very normal thing to want to explore other forms of expression at your age,” Frostbite pointed out. He threaded his paws through Phantom’s pale hair, and found, to his pride, little buds of ice horns. “And I am very flattered that you think so highly of us that you are interested in mimicking some of our more obvious traits; that being said, if it distresses you, you are always free to change back.” 

Phantom’s face turned…lost. “Oh.” 

Frostbite continued petting. More explanation would come, or it wouldn’t— but in the meantime, the human tinge returned to his charge’s cheeks, flush with red blood, and the bud horns collapsed where they grew. His charge’s hair turned dark once more, his teeth flat and human. 

Phantom’s eyes were always blue. The human color was not as deep, but was just as nice. Now, there were tears in them. 

“What is wrong, little one?” Frostbite rumbled, concerned. Phantom took his paw and pressed his face to it in search of tactile comfort. 

“I didn’t know why I was changing,” Phantom admitted, sniffing. His voice was wet and raw. “I was scared I couldn’t go back. Humans don’t just…change like that, 'cause we're made of matter. I was scared…”

Frostbite rumbled wordlessly. His charge had adapted very well to a non-human environment, but there were knowledge gaps that would have come naturally to any Realms-Borne being; most intuitively was knowledge of the self, as well as the rigidity (and fluidity) of one’s own manner of expression. 

Changing without realization would be distressing. Frostbite still remembered what it felt like to wake up some mornings and realize that his arm was gone. 

“You are alright,” Frostbite reaffirmed. “It it healthy to change, and it is a good time to find out how you will want to present yourself. That being said, there is no rush.”

Frostbite paused. 

“There is one rush. If you intend to partake in eating marrow with our dinner tonight, you may want to manifest your teeth again—”

Phantom laughed, little cub’s fangs poking out between his teeth. All would be well; but first, there was dinner to be had, and a good night’s sleep to be found.

[oriarts]

the conditions are right (for a good time)

↳ON AO3!

my art for my @strangerthingsreversebigbang with @jkrockin! this fic was so very fun to plan and work on with you! it’s got cowboys! it’s got idiots in love! go check it out!

This is Eddie's summer. He's got his own booth. Wayne's letting him run a *real booth*. Not filling in, not picking up the shitty shifts for this jointy or that, not running a kiddy ride. An actual, factual, single-front *midway amusement*, and it’s all his. Well, on paper it’s still Wayne’s. But this time, she’s in Eddie’s hands. And it’s— his booth! His!— even actually a pretty good one. To the unenlightened townie, balloon darts may seem like a simple, even a childish pursuit, but Eddie maintains that there is an art to even the most straightforward pleasures. There's a science to it. Physics. Like every game, it can be rigged, but even played straight, it's an earner. He's going to finish out the summer with more money than he started with, for once. Especially if everyone in Nowheresville, Indiana is as juicy a mark as the handsome, fancy-haired guy who's bellied up to his counter.

[thewhiteraven2020]

Fair Game Week Day 6: Secrets/Confessions

Based on Chapter 13 of @faultyparagonfiction’s Jigsaws and Pieces We Made To Fit one of my favorite fics of all time!!

[meyerlansky]

chapters: 1/1 fandom: Masters of the Air (TV 2024) rating: Not Rated warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings relationships: Gale "Buck" Cleven/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Curtis Biddick/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan characters: John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Gale "Buck" Cleven additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2024, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Canon Compliant, Unrequited Love, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Concussions, Memory Loss, Grief/Mourning, Men Crying, Stalag Luft III (Masters of the Air), POV Gale "Buck" Cleven Series: Part 2 of whunktober 2024 summary:

Bucky collapses after he gets out of processing. Brady's there to help Gale get him back to the hut, but it’s slow-going, Bucky’s knees wobbling under him as he squints against the weak sunlight like it’s bright enough to hurt.

[randomfoggytiger]

"Every Day It's Like Halloween"

Fictober, Day 1

Thanks for @thescullyphile for the prompt: Our stalwart heroes, Mulder and Scully, transported via X-File circumstance, through time to Ye Olde Yeares. What shall our chevaliers find? Perhaps a Monster calles, or they Witnesse the Stone Henge? 'Tis for thine mind to puzzle.

It didn't quite go that direction; but I gotta follow the Muse. ;)))

*-*-*-*-*

Mulder wouldn’t be surprised if his pupils were blown.

Flat on his back, he tried to focus on his breathing as the sky tilted and twirled inconsistently. There were voices blending in surprise or panic around him-- blending being the operative word, he couldn’t make out what they were saying-- and someone’s shadow was dipping over his head. Another second and he expected Scully to come into view. 

“Mulder!” And there she was, brows pinched, eyes alarmed. A sprig of fake green poked him in the eye as the contraption holding her tiny knot of hair lost its hold and fell to pieces. She was, he noted vaguely, a vision in luminous layers of pearl and silver gauze. She smelt like smoke, and salt, and roasted pig flesh. 

Oh, he remembered. Ren Faire. 

*-*-*-*-*

The case had sounded promising: California visitors disappearing behind the polyester and plastic reconstruction of Medieval times. Skinner, he'd decided, likely wouldn't comment on yet another trip to the West Coast, having turned an increasingly blind eye to their largely fruitless missions and sun tans and deepening smile lines. 

“He seems,” Scully concluded, trying to tame a grin, unsuccessfully, “happy.” 

“Hm,” Mulder nodded, engrossed with Scully’s battle. “He's definitely more… engaged with our reports lately.”

“Well, stripper video game assassins are probably… intriguing, on some level.” She still held a grudge against Jade Afterglow’s double. He caught her stealing away with his thinnest pair of sunglasses, once, to recreate the stare down in her bathroom mirror. She caught him conspicuously packing those sunglasses, twice, for this trip. (He’d made sure she’d noticed.)  

“It'll give him something to say to the premiere reporters.” 

Scully tried to hide her curiosity there, as well, looking up to read his face carefully. “That’s still a few weeks away.” 

He shrugged, mildly amused at the prospect of their boss preening and strutting around Wayne Federman like a Hollywood would-be. “Jealous you’ll have to share the honor of screentime with Skinman?” 

“Once was enough-- Bill’s never gotten over the humiliation.” There was that smile again, in spite of her annoyance at L.A.’s tendency to tape everything. Charlie’s “You and Mulder created job opportunities for werewolves” helped make her older brother’s bluster bearable…that, and the fact both silently agreed to add the tape to Mulder’s collection.   

Passing over a few tempting quips, he settled on, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

*-*-*-*-*

"Quite a bit," Scully reminded him, later.

The disappearances had taken a dramatic turn by the time Mulder submitted their travel request: a senator’s daughter had vanished; and the local authorities were suddenly as interested in the case as their pensions required. Skinner took their paperwork and theory seriously-- too seriously, they concluded-- roping them into an undercover operation. Vendors and attendees raucously greeted and laughed and sang in the sunshine while Mulder and Scully sweated through layers of cheaply bought performance clothes, she supplying water on the hour and he buying cloths to wipe the sweat off her arms and neck. 

As far afield as Mulder floated, he came hurrying back. 

“Don’t split up, Agents,” the top-down had warned, “they found one of the bodies this morning. A real gruesome way to go. Pattern suggests the killer targets red-haired guests.” And while the suggestion was improbable, given their methods, neither wanted to take any chances.

*-*-*-*-*

Scully wandered off to relieve herself before Mulder clocked a duck-and-dodge attempt. Someone-- male, above-average height, broad shoulders, shaved head-- was popping from one outlier tent to another, long poker in hand, occasionally twisting behind the flaps to avoid detection. He notified the team just as the man charged, closing in on Scully with sickening speed. 

“Scullay!” The ground flew past and the scenery blurred, partner and pursuant becoming his only focus. 

“Mul--” she managed to yell, briefly, before whipping out her gun and ordering,” Stop! FBI!” 

The suspect did; but Mulder watched as his shoulders straightened, knew the last yard was going to be recklessly crossed, regardless. “FBI-- hands in the air!” he echoed, racing onto the scene, weapon raised. 

There was an explosion of movement so disorienting that he had to piece the events together afterwards. The assailant was leaping at him, the poker was above his head, Scully was yelling, shots were fired, the team was swarming around, and darkness was swiftly descending.

*-*-*-*-*

When he woke, the sun was still punishing, the scenery still blurred, and Scully still his only focus. 

“Mulder, are you all right? Don’t move,” she discouraged, holding his head steady with one hand while her other fingers prodded around for injury. 

“Did he get me?” His question was answered, swiftly and abruptly, when she landed on the sorest part of his skull. “Ow.” 

“Sorry. We’re going to have to get that x-rayed, I think. Paramedics should be here, soon.” 

Her eyes were too sorrowful, too regretful. He chanced a smile and a friendly poke to her leg. “This time, you ditched me.”

Scully snorted, as he hoped she would. “No one expects to be followed to the bathroom, Mulder.” Squinting at their surroundings, she added, “Or to the woods, in this case.” 

“You don’t have historic luck when it comes to bathrooms, though, Scully.” 

“Liver eating mutants and elegies aside, Mulder,” she huffed, massaging the ache radiating across his forehead, “I don’t seem to have much luck hanging around you at all.” 

“Mm,” he agreed, fighting sleep. “Won’t Skinner be pleased?”

*-*-*-*-*

Time stretched on lazily after Ronald Ferris was led away in handcuffs; and still, the paramedics did not come. His partner was turning snappish, glaring at nosy busybodies and pushing the officers to call in the ambulance if they had to. The moment called for, Mulder muzzily concluded, a distraction.

"Y'know, Scully." He let the statement hang, knowing it wouldn't be long until his partner bit.

"What, Mulder?"

"This is our first ren faire together."

"No," she insisted, inflexibly argumentative, "it is not."

"No? How do you figure?"

She sighed, looked down at him with that smile, and squeezed her eyes shut. "Mulder, I know what--"

"We're here, Scully. What other proof do you need?"

"Fine." Sitting back more comfortably, face relaxing, she let her protests drop. "This isn't our first ren faire because we weren't properly dressed. We didn't bob for apples, or...." Blowing through her lips, she tried to recall the events of that morning. "We didn't eat leg of lamb, or try roasted beef, or wash down vendor desserts with seasonal drinks, or. Or participate in the games. We didn't get to compete against each other. You didn't battle someone else for my honor."

Mulder made a little noise, looked upward where he presumed his bump was; and watched Scully's eyes soften.

"Well," she amended, "you did participate a little. It probably wouldn't count, though."

"It feels like it counts."

Nodding, Scully clutched his hand with her free one, rubbed his thumb tenderly with her own. "Then it counts to me."

*-*-*-*-*

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober24.

[verfound]

FIC: "Of Found Things and Mme. Stones" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

...who gave these fics the right to be a series? (They probably would have worked fine as chapters, but too late now. 😂)

Read on Ao3

Prompt 07: Street/Craft Fair

The Ring

Marinette gently, quietly closed the door behind her, turning back for one last look at Luka before she went.  She doubted the sound of the door closing would wake him: he had fallen asleep before they’d even made it up the stairs to their flat, and she’d had to hoist him over her shoulder and haul his lanky ass up four flights before reaching their front door.  That would have been fine, except Carlos – their older neighbor who lived across the hall, who still hadn’t fully warmed up to Luka thanks to his dyed hair and tattoos – had been leaving his own flat, and he had barked out a laugh at the sight.  Marinette had offered him a sheepish smile and tried to explain that it had been a really long couple of days, but Carlos just shook his head, patted Luka’s ass, and chuckled “Bienvenidos, mijo” on his way past.

Her idiot boy…fiancé had slept through the whole thing, which was a shame: it was the closest to approval he’d probably ever get from the old man.

(Carlos did adore him – about as much as his wife Manuela – but he still loved to give Luka grief about his appearance and being a rock star.  She supposed it was fine: Luka loved to give him grief about the amount of pizza he loved to eat.)

She had maneuvered Luka to their room as soon as she’d had their door open, and she’d dropped him on the mattress as gently as she could.  Still, he had groaned and mumbled something incoherent before reaching for her, and she had almost slipped into the bed with him – except she did still have some work that needed done, and he needed his rest.

Neither would get accomplished if she crawled in after him, she thought as she closed the door.  He was sprawled out in the center of their bed, her pillow hugged to his chest with his face buried in the damn thing, and that was exactly where he was going to stay until he actually slept.

…she could always wear him out again later.

. : .

Of course, as she would later learn, it had been a really long forty-eight hours leading up to the nine-hour flight from hell, and it was well into the next day before Luka actually stirred.

He had wandered his way out towards dinner time, but that had really only been to shuffle into the bathroom.  He’d found her before heading back to bed – just long enough to bend her back over the (thankfully off) stove with a deep kiss – but that hardly counted.  She still wasn’t sure he had actually been awake, no matter how thoroughly he’d kissed her.

He’d mumbled something incoherent when she’d climbed into bed that night, and she had barely had time to crawl under the covers before he’d wrapped himself around her.  He hadn’t woken, though, and he still wasn’t awake when she slipped back out of bed the next morning.

If she hadn’t been dealing with Couffaine sleeping habits for almost ten years now (first at sleepovers with Juleka and later with him), she might have worried.  But as long as he was still breathing, she figured he was fine and let him sleep.

Penny showed up at their front door early the next morning.  Marinette was still wearing her dressing gown when she knocked, her first cup of coffee still in hand.

“Guess what wasn’t actually in Barcelona,” Penny said by way of greeting when Marinette opened the door.  Her eyes widened as Penny patted the suitcase beside her.  “It was mislabeled and about to head to Hong Kong, but you’d be surprised how effective a crocodile can be in tracking down misplaced luggage.”

“Liar,” Marinette laughed, pulling her into a hug.  “More like how effective Jagged Stone’s irate wife can be in getting anything done.”

“Well, that, too,” Penny laughed, patting her back.  “But years of dealing with Fang doesn’t hurt.  Has he calmed down yet?”

“He’s still sleeping,” Marinette said, and Penny’s eyebrows lifted.  Marinette waved her in and wheeled the suitcase over to the dining area.  She lifted it onto the table and opened it, rooting through the front pockets until she found…she grinned when her fingers brushed against a small box.  “He was already exhausted, and losing this didn’t help.”

“Shouldn’t you let him find it first?” Penny asked, an eyebrow lifting as Marinette pulled the ring out and slipped it onto her finger.  She held her hand up, her smile growing as she finally saw it.  The pink opal burned just as brightly as it did in her memory.  “I’m fairly certain he’s supposed to ask you before you start wearing it.

“Oh, he’s not getting this off my finger any time soon,” Marinette laughed, grinning at her.  “If he wanted to surprise me, he shouldn’t have told me he lost it in the first place.”

“He was exhausted, Marinette,” Penny said, frowning.  “He didn’t know what he was saying.  You should give him this.  Let him do this properly.”

She gave her a pointed look, and Marinette sighed as she looked back at her hand.  She knew Penny was right, but…she really didn’t want to take it off.  She liked how it looked – how it felt – there.  Like it belonged.

…like she was always supposed to be Marinette Couffaine.

“Just for a little bit?” she asked, looking back at Penny.  “I’ll put it back before he wakes up.”

Penny shook her head, but she was smiling as she laid an arm across Marinette’s shoulders and puled her into a half hug.  She looked back at her hand, her smile warming as she studied the ring.

“It’s a lovely ring, Marinette,” she said.  “Very…you.”

“Lay off,” Marinette giggled, nudging her side.  She glanced down at Penny’s own hand, which sported a stone in the shape of a heart and the color of Penny’s hair.  It was ringed by black stones on a gunmetal band – not at all traditional, but very rock-n-roll and very ‘Rolling-Stone’, if Jagged did say so himself.  “Your ring is so much worse, and this is a family heirloom.”

“Really?” Penny asked, surprised.  “I knew Gina gave it to him – she met us in Rome – but he didn’t tell me the story.  I figured she had found it at some street fair or something.  Some…sorry, but it really does look like cheap costume jewelry.”

“I’m not offended, but only because your ring does, too,” Marinette giggled, sticking her tongue out at her.  She looked back at her nonna’s old ring, her smile softening.  “I promise you it’s one hundred percent genuine.  It was Nonna’s mother’s.  Nonna was just a baby when the war started – barely a year old – and her family had to flee Italy before things got really bad.  They didn’t make it back until Nonna was almost ten.  This ring was the only thing of value her mother was able to bring with them.”

“It’s a beautiful ring, Marinette,” Penny said softly, and Marinette nodded.  It was.  A round, pink opal sat in the center of the ring, ringed by tiny diamonds and flanked on either side by flowers made of pink quartz.  They were generic looking enough, but she had always liked to imagine they were cherry blossoms.  The whole thing sat on a gold band, and it had captivated Marinette since she was a little girl.

“Nonna always called me her Little Fairy, but I always thought she was the fairy,” she confessed.  “I didn’t understand how opals worked back then – I always thought it was fairy magic that made the stone burn like that, not opal fire.  She never bothered correcting me, either.”

Penny laughed, shaking her head.

“It’s very you,” she said.  “Luka was really excited when Gina offered.  He went through all the trouble of getting Tom and Sabine’s blessing – Jagged was pouting for weeks after that, by the way.  He couldn’t understand why Luka didn’t ask for his blessing, too.”

Marinette laughed at that, not surprised at all.

“Of course he was,” she said.  “What, do I need to ask him for Luka’s hand first, too?”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt,” Penny snickered.  “But you know how Luka is.  He’s not a planner.  I think part of him honestly didn’t think Tom would even say yes.”

“Dummy,” Marinette said, shaking her head.  “Like Papa would ever say no to him.”

“That boy is crazy for you, Marinette,” Penny said, squeezing her shoulders.  “He’s not above being completely irrational when it comes to you.  I’ve seen him put up with a lot on the road, between his father and the rest of the band, and sometimes I honestly think the only thing that truly scares him is the thought of losing you.  Even if he knows it will never happen…I don’t know.  It’s like…I don’t know if he saw something.  During an akuma attack, back in the day.  Maybe that breakup you two had when you were younger.  But he says things sometimes, like he’s all too aware of how things could be.  How fragile life really is.  I think it makes him hold on a bit tighter to how they are.”

Marinette bit her lip.  She wondered if Penny realized just how right she actually was.

“I gave him up once, Penny,” she said, brushing her thumb over the opal.  “I have no intention of doing so again.  He’s stuck with me.”  She looked back up at her, her grin coming back.  “And he’s going to have to pry this ring off my cold, dead finger.”

Penny laughed and leaned in to smack a kiss against her temple.

“And don’t you let him forget it,” she said.  She winked at her.  “After you let him get the proposal out, all right?  You know he had something big and romantic planned.”

“Luka?  Plan?” Marinette gasped, her eyes wide.  “How dare you accuse him of such a thing!  That’s my future husband you’re slandering, Mme. Stone!”

“Only because I have entirely too much experience wrangling his family, Mme. Stone,” Penny said with a roll of her eyes, but Marinette was too busy grinning at being called Mme. Stone to pick up on her tone.  Penny just smiled and shook her head, waving her off.  She told her to tell Luka to call her – she wanted him to rest up, but they still had work to do in the studio – and headed towards the door.  When Marinette was alone again, she turned back to her ring with a soft smile.

…street fair costume jewelry.  Tch.

(…she wasn’t going to think about it.  If not for the fact that Tom had known her great-grandmother and could confirm the truth…she wouldn’t put it past Gina Dupain to embellish a tale about smuggled wartime jewels just to entertain her little fairy.)

[daughter-of-melpomene]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2024 — Day Twenty-Nine: Couple’s Costume

Show us what matching costume your oc and their love interest would wear! Peanut Butter & Jelly? Morticia & Gomez? Bert & Ernie?

Arabella Larson & Noelle Perez (Percy Jackson) as a knight and a princess

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom,

@auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs,

@reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations,

@stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs,

@luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @oneirataxia-girl,

@arrthurpendragon, @surebrecs, @gabbysdawsons,

@dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @stelstellakidd,

@manyfandomocs, @lapinaquarelle, @partiallypearl, @welcometotheocverse,

@juliaswickcrs, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @bibaybe.)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

perchance you also write for patrick zweig 🥹👉🏼👈🏽

This was not on my 2024 fic bingo card

......but i'm intrigued

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up October 2024ꐑ(ꐌ◡ꐌꐐ)࿐࿔࿓ཥ•̬͡•ོཤ(((༼•̫͡•༽)))←～（o ｀▽´ )oΨ

In Another Life (I Would Make You Stay) by aboutmalfoy

Seven years out from the war, Hermione comes to Harry with a way to undo the lasting damage done to the Wizarding World, and save those once lost. The catch is, only Harry will remember anything differently. When Harry wakes up in the world where Voldemort never came to be, he’ll have to navigate the life he never lived as if he’d been there all along. Except, a version of Harry was there all along—and he may not be so easily overridden. (Rec Post)

White Horses by JStevens

They say there are no white horses—those that we think of as white are really just a faded deceitful gray. And if there are no white horses, certainly there are no true heroes who will come riding in on one to save us from all our pain. After learning of the prophecy that will change his future, Harry returns to Hogwarts School for sixth year and finds that not everyone is who he thought they were. It seems that he is not. Definitely Draco Malfoy is not. As he tries to find a path to the end of his time at Hogwarts, he will have to grapple with questions of who to trust and who to love while navigating a world full of threats. This is a story of how we sometimes deceive ourselves and others, but hopefully find something true in the end. (Rec Post)

Recursion by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley) @tessacrowley

A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two. But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way. ( Rec Post)

To have a Home by Aulophobia

Not quite a decade after the war, Draco Malfoy was happy with his quiet little Muggle life in Oxford. He had a small group of friends from the university he’d attended, and colleagues from the law firm where he worked as a solicitor. He played folk music on his violin around the city. And he volunteered to provide legal services getting mostly idiot teenagers out of trouble with the law. His life was full. He had no contact with the magical world, and all was the way he liked it. And the feeling of emptiness in his chest, the feeling some part of him was missing, was at least better than the alternative. Or at least it was until the last few months when he kept getting called down to the police station to get Harry Potter out of trouble. Indecent exposure and possession was one thing, but the latest charge was for murder. OR Harry and Draco find each other again after the war in Oxford, a completely non-magical city. Together they solve the mystery of the city which hates all wizards but them. (Rec Post)

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Trade My Heart For Honey by MyNameIsThunder @thunderfiction

A witch who thinks she’s a Seer, a Seer who thinks she’s a witch, a former nemesis-turned-something-turned-acquaintance who thinks they could be friends, and a Scottish village full of Muggles who think this is as much their business as the fair folk in the woods. Draco is going to prove them all wrong. (So so good, and it's for me?!?!? ♡✧( ु•⌄• )💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖)

Change the Ending by Anonymous for @hd-fan-fair H/D Muggle Fair 2024

When Draco gets hit by a curse that makes him essentially allergic to magic, Harry takes him in as a favour to Ron and Kingsley to teach him how to survive without it while they wait for a cure.

In the Fight for Someone's Heart, the Best Armour is Armani by Anonymous for @hd-fan-fair H/D Muggle Fair 2024

Harry is a famous actor. Draco is his stylist, who can't help but fall in love with him.

[ART & FIC] Starry, Silver Anchor by Anonymous for @hd-fan-fair H/D Muggle Fair 2024

Although no one can see it, Harry’s struggling and barely holding on. When he's given a chance, he asks for his deepest desire: for the war to never happen.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ HI! I'm back! I hope y'all didn't miss me too much! Please enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[lily-alphonse]

"Time After Time" by Lily Alphonse

Zelink Week 2024 Day 4: Enchantment

Rating: Teen

Words: 2,293 (ONGOING - WIP)

“Hear ye! Hear ye! All are welcome in the two thousand and twenty-fourth year to the Festival of Enchantment!”

Zelda is a burgeoning actress who has always dreamed of being one of the princesses on stage at the renaissance festival.

Link is a stuntman who travels the country doing odd gig work, but his favorite is always working the rennie circuit.

What will happen when their paths cross?

>>Read on AO3<<

ITS A RENFAIRE AU! RENFAIRE RENFAIRE RENFAIRE RRRRAAAAAAA (I'm excited) This is going to be a WIP! I don't expect it to be a longfic necessarily, I'm trying not to exceed 20k. But currently there is only 1 chapter up. Come on and sub it'll be a good time.

Created for Zelink Week 2024 @zelinkcommunity

Read Other Days Here

[3-frogs-in-a-trench-coat]

Selfshiptober Day 5 - All Dressed Up/Blade

(Note: I don't remember where I found this divider from. If anyone knows the creator, please feel free to comment below and tell me, so I can give credit.)

"Are you ready?" Phoenix asked, grinning as they twisted their head side to side, looking at each partner.

The throuple stood at the entrance of a Ren Faire. An event that Phoenix has been wanting to show their partners for a long time.

They were all dressed up for the occasion. Phoenix was in a light tan, loose fitting tunic with a green colored cloak. Faux leather gauntlets on each arm. Dark brown knee high boots with baggy Renaissance styled pants, being held up by a faux leather belt that had handmade (fake) potion bottles hanging from one side.

Aza, standing to Phoenix's left, was wearing a high necked, form fitting tank top with baggy Renaissance styled pants, and a hooded cloak that hung loosely from his shoulder. A pair of belts with pouches which hung loosely on his waist and faux leather shoulder armor on his other shoulder, seemed to be the only items on him that broke through the shades of black that mainly made up the majority of the outfit. According to Phoenix, this outfit was one that a "Past DnD thief character that they had, used to wear. Which they thought might suit Aza for the occasion."

Thimble on Phoenix's right, was only wearing a simple outfit of Phoenix's.

Based off of another role-playing character of Phoenix, this outfit depicted what their character would often wear. A simple tunic with baggy medieval pants, leather wraps that would wrap around the feet into the form of a shoe, distressed looking arm wraps, and a loose belt attached at the waist.

Phoenix had insisted that Thimble wear this outfit, due to its lightweight appearance and, in Phoenix's words, "They thought the style would look cute in Thimble." (They were pleased to find out they were right.)

The throuple proceeded to walk around the event. Roleplaying with other event-goers and merchants, tasting the food and drinks, and watching some of the acts.

At one point the throuple ended up buying 2 walking sticks. One which was lightly stained and twisted to a spiral shape with the top ending into a makeshift cane handle for Aza, and one which was carved with an intertwining plant design which Phoenix gave to Thimble.

Honestly, Phoenix was ashamed to admit that they rushed everyone to the faire earlier that day. And as a result, had forgotten to remember to bring their canes. The throuple had ended up needing that extra support, so the young bard offered to buy their partners a walking stick each, hoping it would suffice. Throughout the day, Thimble and Phoenix would disagree on who'd use the walking stick, as Phoenix's painful knees were starting to bother them. Aza had originally offered theirs, but Phoenix refused to accept. Thimble refused to accept this, and would make Phoenix take turns with them throughout the rest of the day, with Aza's acceptance.

A few hours into the event, the throuple decided to stop and watch a reenactment of a medieval joust play out in the middle of the faire. Horses were adorned in medieval garb, as were the riders atop them. Armor shining under the sun and and dust lightly being kicked up into the air from the horse's hooves.

Cheering ensued as the joust started. Ending in a mix of gasps and more cheers as people lightly discussed the results.

To Phoenix, it had ended way too soon. But spending that small break from walking and getting caught up in the action with their partners, made them more than happy.

The throuple decided to end that part of the day with drinks, before walking around the rest of the area to look at items for sale and get caught up in the atmosphere around them.

There was one particular booth which seemed to interest Phoenix. It was ran by a self proclaimed black smith. Who of which seemed to be busy making a blade within her stall.

They watched for several minutes as she would flatten the metal and shake it into a decorative sword. Stopping midway as she noticed the throuple's presence. Smiling at them, she straightened her back with a stretch, before greeting the 3 of them with a warm welcome and showing her wares.

One of which had particularly interested Phoenix.

It was a decorative cutlass, with a handle mixed in hues of light green and gold. It was a pretty simple sword compared to some of the others on display, but something about its simplicity seemed to draw Phoenix in.

Noticing them take interest in it, the merchant sat it down and offered to let Phoenix get a closer look.

They were allowed to hold it and show both partners, who were standing off to one side.

Phoenix ended up purchasing it, but not before the woman offered to etch something into the blade at no extra cost.

(She claimed that she could tell Phoenix was interested in her blade, which was actually one of the first ones she had made for this event. And would be more than happy to add on to the young bard's joy today.)

Immediately after hearing this, Phoenix knew what to do. On one side they asked for the name "Thimble" to be etched into the blade, and on the other side, "Aza."

After paying for and walking off with the newly etched sword, (which was also very kindly wrapped by the merchant, to protect it and others while walking around the faire.), Phoenix grinned as they gently patted the sword. With their partners' names on it, it will serve as a constant reminder of how Aza and Thimble will always give them the strength they need to get through anything that may come their way.

Now a few more hours into the day, the throuple decided to leave. Picking up dinner and spending the rest of the day discussing what they enjoyed about the ren faire, and eating their food.

Aza would end up helping Phoenix hang up the sword on the livingroom wall. And as the bard passed by it on their way to bed that night, they would stop to admire it. Smiling as their heart and mind were overcome with love and joy from their partners. They were lucky to have them. And they couldn't wait to see what else life would bring them.

Taglist:

@faerie-circle-ships

@sennamybeloved

Feel free to comment on here or message me, if you want to be added to the tag list! ☺️

[just-spacetrash]

🦾

[etoiline]

Chapter Two of taste your lips and feel your skin is up!

In which Cal, Bode, and Merrin venture into a warehouse that has more than a few surprises waiting for them.

Week 2 of Aug-kissed 2024 prompts used: hand kiss, trail of kisses, gentle peck

Look for chapter 3 next Tuesday!

[lenafromthenordiccoven]

Back home from the book fair, wanted to film a lot more for tiktok and stuff. What I got was this. 😂

But I'll get to work on the new Bob x reader proposal oneshot this week. Maybe I can get that up by the end of next week.

(I did buy some very pretty art tho. And two books - one of which I got to take home from the fair, the other will be delivered cause they sold out at the fair 😂 and a cute tote bag and some birb protectors for my switch joy sticks.)