#fics i looooove

[littlestarbigsky]

oh i’m crying!

Saying Goodbye (Ace and Dally's last interaction)

Ace was being carried. She was in someone's arms, her head bumping against a strong chest as they walked. She starts to stir, still letting herself melt back into the arms as they walk. She was so tired, but she didn’t remember why.  

“Ace kid, you wakin’ up?” She is startled at that. She knew that voice, that voice that had disappeared on a set of train tracks. 

“Dally?” She asks quietly. 

“Yeah it’s me.” She looks up at a smirking Dallas Winston, who is just holding her and walking down an unknown street. His face was perfectly clean from any cuts and bruises, his arms were bare and free from any burns and his previously messed up hair was perfectly back in place. Like an angel. If Dallas could ever be described as that. 

“But how…? Are you…? Am I…?” 

“You ain’t dead if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” 

“I watched you die though.” He nods, shifting and pulling her closer. 

“And I am sorry about that.” 

“You should be.” She shoots back. “We lost Johnny and then you too…” 

He smiles wanly again. “Ace, I had too.” 

“You didn’t! You could have stayed with us.” He doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps carrying her through the street by houses she doesn’t recognize. “Where are we Dally?” He smiles a little. 

“New York. This was my street when I was a kid. All my friends lived in these alley houses.” He nods his head to a row of little shacks, the colors muted and the streets empty. “We used to play baseball at that intersection.” He smiles wryly. “You know I was a Yankees fan?” 

“You never told me.” She said softly, feeling for the millionth time tonight that she is inadequate with her relationships to her friends. Dallas never talked about his time in New York all that often. The only time he would open up about it was when he got a couple drinks in him. Though he purposely liked to scare Ponyboy or Johnny with gang stories, he did have a couple softer memories he had told Ace. 

“It never came up.” He was being awfully soft towards her. Something he never was when he was alive. She’d never seen him like this. He’d also never made an appearance in her dreams before. Dead or alive. He stops in front of a dilapidated alley house. There was one box of yellow sunflowers on the windowsill, a spot of bright on the brown exterior of the house. “This was my nana’s granny flat.”

“Is she there?” 

“No. She moved on.” He says it airily, as if he knows something that she doesn’t. He walks up the steps and opens the door. There's a small ripping flowery couch that he sets her down on gently and sits across from her in the arm chair. 

“Did you ever miss her in Tulsa?” 

“Of course I did, but I had to run.” She wants to ask why. Why did he run away from New York? Why did he run to Tulsa? And most of all, why did he stand in front of that train? Why did he leave her? 

“Dally-”

“I couldn’t have stayed in Tulsa Ace. Not without Johnny.” He interrupts her. Ace fiddles with a stray string on the couch. 

“You could have! You didn’t have to run in front of that train! You could have stayed with us, Dally!” She knows she sounds childish, but she still feels so tired. She is also so angry at Dallas for leaving them. How could he? He gives her that same stupid smile. 

“I had to go, Ace. Johnny needed me.” 

“I need you too.” Normally she wouldn’t have been caught dead saying something like that to Dallas Winston, but she lets herself say it, figuring this is a dream or one of those afterlife experiences. Either way, this might be the last time she would ever see him and he had to know. 

“Johnny… He’s been alone his whole life, I couldn’t let him be alone here too.” She sniffles, letting a couple stray tears run down her face. 

“But… I’m gonna miss you Dally.” 

“I know, but you ain’t like Johnny, kid. You got your brother and the gang and you’ve always been okay by yourself. I’m not tryna say that you guys are better off without me, I’m just sayin’ that you’ll move on fast. Johnny ain’t got no one up here. He needs me.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.” She says bitterly and he laughs, moving forward to grip her shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll miss you too. I love you Ace and you’re my sister. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. Not me bein’ dead, not any of it, okay?”

“I know it’s just...” She trails off, knowing she has more she wants to say. She should beg him to stay, saying that he can’t leave her. He can’t be her brother from the afterlife. But she knows it’s not true. Her Grents are still her Grents even though they’re dead and Dallas would always be her brother, whether or not he was dead.

He smiles again and stands. “Say goodbye to everyone for me. I didn’t get a chance.” She stiffens, expecting panic to fill her stomach, instead of the indifference. He walks over to the front door and opens it, light drenching him as it pours out of the open door. 

“Hey Dally, you comin’?” She knew that voice too, it was a voice she’d known all her life. It belonged to a boy with a heart so gold and a soul so pure that it made loving him easy. A boy she’d protected through his life and in turn he’d been her friend and her brother. A boy she was going to miss so much. 

“Course I am Johnny.” Dallas answers with an easy smile. “Just gotta say goodbye.” He walks back over to Ace. She feels tears run down her face as he pulls her into a hug. A tight hug that says more than his words ever could. 

“Will you please stay with me Dally?” She asks one more time, knowing it’s childish and pleading but wanting to try anyway. Dallas just laughs and squeezes her a little tighter. 

“My Ace of Spades, never lose that fire ‘neath your feet.” He pulls away, kissing her forehead and giving her a wave. He walks through the light with one arm around Johnny.

[shaythey]

Target Aquired.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

gukgak specifically from my typing (man w/ three jobs & a creeping sense of dread)

[eggsdrawings]

tending wounds

pro hero au dabihawks after a battle, ko-fi request for @/WildLadyLuck on twitter !!

[littlestarbigsky]

i swear i think abt this fic every single day

Cute marbit fic idea that I had a few months ago and wouldn’t leave me alone till I wrote it!! Hope y’all enjoy :)

[violent138]

Batfamily member's civilian identity becomes some serial killer's target because it fits some profile. Cue said murderer going after this member of the Batfamily, earning a very shocked and mildly exasperated set of swear words and then getting their ass kicked. The Batfamily member doesn't even bother calling the cops, just tosses the would be killer in the back of their car (which has bloody gloves in the seat and weird files on people), leading the murderer to conclude they're in the presence of a much worse serial killer.

Tldr: Outsider POV fic where a Batfamily member earns the undying adoration of an actual murderer and it's a slow, convoluted process to getting the evidence to arrest them while also protecting their secret identity.

[yupthisisshe]

For What It’s He’s Worth - Neville x gn! Reader

A/n: warning - negative self-talk (Neville talks badly about himself but reader quickly tells him how wrong he is); gender neutral reader; reader and Neville are not dating but reader is in love with Neville (they are def mutually pining in my head but reader doesn't officially know that in this piece and its not really hinted at on Neville's part); this is mostly just one poignant moment between the two and practically no other plot; its angsty fluff (I think?)

“But maybe that’s all I’m good for. Forgetting and being forgotten.” Neville says with such acceptance that your heart cracks in two because you can tell he has considered this too many times.

“No!” You exclaim, nearing a shout.

“[Y/n]…” he says quietly. Unsure where you are going with this, but understanding how heartfelt this moment is.

“I won't let you talk about yourself like that! I won't!” he was the melancholy one, but you were the one nearing tears.

“But it's true,” he says with the saddest smile you’ve ever seen. The tears became harder to hold back just looking at him. How can he believe this?!

“It’s not! You're not forgettable! Neville, you are so unforgettable that from the moment I saw you I've never been able to forget you! Not even for a moment!“ you couldn't tell if you were being hysterical but you didn't care. He needed to know, to truly understand that he was not forgettable. He was so much more than he gave himself credit for. You didn't care if you had to scream it from the astronomy tower or coddle him nightly while whispering it into his ear like it was the only words you knew besides “I love you.” Three words which you weren't sure you had the courage to say just yet, but you could tell him this: he. Was. Unforgettable. And nothing less.

“[Y/n]…” was all he could say. He didn’t know what to think. No one had ever said anything to him to indicate that he was anything but forgettable. Not everyone made him feel that he was, but no one had ever told him he was, in fact, unforgettable. He couldn’t believe it. Was he truly memorable after all?

Both of you stood there, unspeaking. Tears began to seep from your eyes. You couldn’t hold them back anymore. Neville still didn’t know what to think of himself, but he did know that he had to show you how much he appreciated your words and how much he appreciated you. He knew what it felt like to feel and be ignored and unheard. He never wanted you to feel that way. He rushed to embrace you and you returned the motion. The two of you remained that way for a while, not saying anything, but feeling it all.

From that night forward, whenever Neville felt forgettable, he remembered that moment with you, as well as all the other moments he has spent with you. He remembered you and the bond he shared with you and he knew: He was worth more than he gave himself credit for. He was not forgettable. Even if he didn’t feel it, in your eyes, he was indescribably amazing and utterly unforgettable. And as time went on, he not only knew this, but began to believe it, and to live and breathe with it as the truth. Because it was, and he could feel that now.

[forsoobado137]

Does NEKOTALIA exist in your Au and if so are they immortal If so are animal experts able to determine the cause also do they have their own social media accounts I have a mighty need for Nekotalia content

Nekotalia ABSOLUTELY exists in my au. I think they used to be mortal but then after they were taken in by nations, they lost their mortality. I also think that they slowly began to reflect their owners' personalities to the point where they are basically cat personifications. I believe that it's still a scientific mystery as to why they became immortal (much like the mystery of nations themselves). People, including nations, just assume they're normal cats.

The personifications and the media find them very adorable. They set up playdates mini world meetings for their cats. They fight just like their owners, but less about geopolitics and more about how to get more cat food from people. Sometimes the cats get interviewed and asked questions like "Do you love your owner?" and "What do you think of the (insert head of state) putting tax on tuna?" The cats just respond with meows, but sometimes the nations will "translate" what they say.

And yessss they have their own social media accounts. I imagine it's a gag where some nations who run these accounts pretend that it's actually the cats running them. Sometimes they make identical posts to the nations but make it more cat-like.

France makes matching outfits for his cat and poses with him. Japan's cat is an actual celebrity that makes the news for how cute he is. China's cat reminisces about the good old days when his owner spoiled him (He still gets spoiled). Italy posts his cat's "artwork" and it still gets a bunch of likes.

Greece is the king of posting about his cat. He has hundreds of posts where his cat is literally just sleeping. The caption is definitely something like "How lucky my cat is to not worry about debt. I wish I were a cat so it would be socially acceptable for me to take 14 hour naps."

[prettymediocrewizard]

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

iwtv fanfic friday!

i'm being lazy today, so no theme, just some of my favorite DM one shots from recent history/memory 🫶

the great poems cover their famished faces by sweetartheart

They are rarely about comfortable.

immediately post season two, perfect banter and perfect everything. i'm obsessed with the way this author writes them beyond speech, truly

warm-blooded by flowermasters

“I am nearly five hundred years old,” Armand said, his gaze cutting through Daniel. “A vampire, and a beta.” His lip curled in apparent disgust at one or both of these conditions. “You’ll forgive me if I thought the odds were slim.” Daniel stared at him for a moment. “Slim,” he said. “Not zero.” Armand looked back at him. “No,” he agreed. “Not zero.”

daniel is pregnant post the events of 2.5 and armand checks in. it's so good and i need infinitely more of it. if you haven't read this yet, get tf up. we're reading omegaverse this friday.

no glory in love, only the gore of our hearts by luminoussbeings aka @gaysie

“Hurry up and call an ambulance,” Daniel grits out. Armand sits up and pulls back, frowning. “But Daniel,” he says, all sly bewilderment and slick disdain, “Now why would we do that?” Or: Armand rides that old man so hard he gives him a heart attack. (Un)lucky for Daniel, Armand’s going to take care of him.

they are so sick and twisted and gross and good in this. like oh my god. i'm literally in awe of kath's mind 24/7. like this is SO GOOD

monothematic delusion by uvlights

No one has painted Armand in over 400 years.

tagged 'no plot just vibes,' which is like food to me. it's freaky and violent and really fucking sweet, capturing them perfectly.

[dollypopup]

This fandom gets more bent out of shape and upset about that entrapment line than Penelope herself does

one day peeps who get soooo mad at Colin for very easily understandable statements will finally just admit that they don't like him instead of twisting into pretzels to justify why they're so angry at him. y'all don't like him, but Penelope does. she loves him and tries to understand him, she was upset that she hurt him and she extended empathy to him in light of such, which is why her only response to it is 'I didn't mean to trap you, Colin, I love you', and YOUR response is to write fic after fic foaming at the mouth blowing a singular statement out of proportion and using a meangirl Fanon Penelope as a mouthpiece for your own bitterness

Penelope Bridgerton loves Colin. And knows she's hurt him and wants to heal that hurt. She wouldn't vibe with a fanbase who demonizes him the way we have

[sanjipussyindulgence]

jayvik damaged my brain permanently im so serious. ive started and ditched seven different jayvik projects in the last month. fics, art, edits, you name it. im insane im deranged these magic faggot scientists are my joker origin story.

anyway im writing another fic heres a lil preview <3

[hedwig221b]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @dear-massacre, @endwersed and @thotpuppy! Thanks so much to all of you!

This time I actually have a wip that I can share. So how about some good pining?

💔

Derek was there.

Stiles’ heart drummed against his ribcage in an excited greeting, his face heated.

Determined not to embarrass himself, Stiles set up a light run to hopefully explain his bothered appearance.

“Hey, losers,” he blurted once he got to the small group lounging on the grass. He slapped a hand against Scott’s in a greeting, smiled at Allison, and fell next to Derek.

“Hey sunshine,” the latter grunted, not opening his eyes.

Stiles huffed at the usual greeting. He only allowed himself a small glimpse.

Arms under his head, bulging biceps, a sliver of the hairy stomach between the t-shirt and the jeans. A chiseled face sculpted by gods and a slight frown put there by the annoying sun.

Stiles swallowed and turned away. Grabbing his backpack, he began to roam inside in search of his packed lunch, all the while exhaling as furtively as he could.

Derek Hale did tend to make him lose his breath.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

Dustard but it used to be kustard (they reunited) and ... 2 (for the fic requests)

i am not beating the kpop allegations.....

2. like that - babymonster

Say you want love, boy, I know what that means Make you feel way better than in your dreams If I show you that I know where it's at Baby, would you like that? Baby, would you likе that?

murder blinks.

red is here, impossibly real, standing in the soft glow of light, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, all nonchalant. but his eyes betray him. they’re too sharp, assessing, staring into his worthless soul as if trying to decipher a mystery.

only, there’s no mystery to solve. murder stands there with his gloved hands smeared with dust and blood, a manic, shaky smile on his gaunt face.

“sweetheart…” red says, his voice low. his gaze drags over murder, taking in the bloody hands, the eyebags, the dusty jacket. “you’ve changed. you don’t look like you anymore.”

murder laughs, the sound hollow. “do i still look beautiful at least?” he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. he hates how small they sound, how desperate.

red’s mouth twitches, something between a grimace and a frown. he doesn’t answer, and that silence tears into murder worse than any knife could.

“do i?” murder presses, his voice cracking on the verge of hysteria. “or is this what i am now? just… this.” he holds out his hands, palms up, the blood there dark and dried.

“sans-” red starts, but murder snaps.

“no! don’t call me that!” his eyes blaze in a glorious mixture of red and blue, and red takes a step backwards, alarmed. steeling his frazzled nerves, murder attempts a smile, unsuccessful. “you think i deserve love? after everything i’ve done?” he meets red’s gaze, eyes glassy. “i don’t. i can’t. i can’t give you that kind of love anymore. this love-” he grins, a wild, unhinged expression, “-this is all i can give.”

red doesn’t flinch. he doesn’t look away. his jaw tightens. “maybe you don’t deserve love,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “maybe none of us do. but that doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop caring.”

murder breaks into a gasping laugh, sharp and bitter. “you care about me? don’t you see what i’ve done?” he steps forward, his voice rising, pleading now. “if you care, then you should do it. just end this for me, please.”

“what?” red utters, his eyes narrowing.

“you heard me,” murder says, smiling. he spreads his arms wide, exposing where his soul should be. “kill me. judge me. do your job. that’s what you came for, isn’t it? to put this monster down once and for all.”

red stares at him. neither of them dare to breathe in this fragile silence. murder stands there, eyelights sparking in his sockets. red swallows, then steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, until the space between both of them becomes negligible. his hand lifts, and murder can’t help but flinch. but then there’s no strike, no attack, no judgement – red only grips murder’s shoulders with both hands, firm and steady.

“you want me to end this?” red asks, teeth grinding. “fine. i’ll end this. but in my way.”

murder’s breath catches, his ribs tightening. “red-”

“no,” red snaps, his voice rough, cutting through the haze in murder’s mind like a blade. “you don’t get to decide how this ends. not like this. you think you’re beyond saving? fine. maybe you are. but i’m not gonna let you go again.”

the world blurs, the edges melting into something soft and unreal in murder’s swimming vision, but red’s grip on him remains solid like an anchor. murder doesn’t know if this is a dream or a nightmare or something else entirely. he doesn’t know if he cares.

all he knows is that red hasn’t let go. not yet. and he leans into it, free falling.

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Hiii love your work 🥰🥰

Letter F please, if you haven’t done it yet ((:

tysm for your kind words, anon! this one is one of my favorites — I hope you enjoy. xo

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: F | prompt: friends with benefits | wc: 0.3k

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

“It’s not enough anymore, Aaron.”

From the foot of the bed, he watches as she slips into his button down and pads over to the window. She has her arms around herself like she’s holding herself together after her confession, and depending on his response, she supposes she may need to.

It’s not that he isn’t expecting this conversation. He just hadn’t expected she’d be the one to cave first. He, on the other hand, has had the words on the tip of his tongue for weeks, every time she’s come apart in his arms, every time she’s picked apart his meticulous control and put him back together with a wink and a kiss.

It starts before France. One moment they’re drinking away the case in his office, the next they are making out like teenagers on his couch, hands everywhere, realizing with startling clarity that it was always bound to culminate this way; friends with benefits sounds so juvenile, one of them whispers against the other’s thigh. It’s a way to loosen the pressure valve with each other, make good on daydreams and fantasies they’ve been having about the other for years. 

As is the case with most things, when she returns after Doyle, after Lauren, it’s different. The urgency is still there but it’s a different kind, like an optometrist’s lens has clicked in place over it. Previously the urgency was in the chase for release, for pleasure; now it’s in the search for grounding, depth, emotional intimacy. More, and more, and more. 

A reason to stay.

They said they wouldn’t let things get this far, but that was before a table leg and burning flesh and a boy holding his dying father’s hand. Before stolen hand squeezes and forehead kisses at Bethesda, before seven-month secrets, before the fear.

God, the fear.

Everything is different now.

He rises from bed and pulls his boxers back on, then walks over to her and places a gentle hand to the small of her back. She relaxes into his touch instantly. “No. It’s not,” he agrees.

She whips around to stare at him, equal parts surprised, relieved, and terrified at his reciprocation. Her eyes are deep, nearly black, and he can think of nothing that he wants more than to get lost in them forever. “You…”

“I love you, too.”

[eliteseven]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Shadowheart/Tav (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Strap-Ons, smut with feelings, Established Relationship, Jen is a flirtatious minx, Tav is just happy to be here Series: Part 3 of Minor Fall, Major Lift Summary:

Jen is feeling particularly playful, and Serena is more than happy to give her the attention she craves.