#it's handprint fic!

[burntotears]

Title: The Answer is Always "Okay." Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Teen Malex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jesse Manes' A+ Parenting, Aftermath of Abuse, Handprint Fic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, No Toolshed Incident, Hopeful Ending W/C: 6,079 Summary: After Alex's fight with Kyle at prom, he knows that there will be consequences at home. He runs into Michael in the toolshed, who's so out of sorts from his resulting injury that he accidentally heals him, revealing himself as an alien and connecting their emotions. The course of their future changes irrevocably. (Canon Divergent after Prom—No Toolshed Incident)

Happy Christmas @bloggingbisexually ! This is for the @malexsanta exchange. I subbed in at the last second, so I hope it's still enjoyable for you 💕

Thank you so much to my beta @im-the-punk-who for your amazing help making this story better and for brainstorming with me so I didn't get in over my head. You're the best!

“Alex, wait up!”

Alex could hear Liz’s hurried footsteps behind him and all he really wanted to do was run so that she couldn’t catch up in her high heels, but even now he couldn’t bring himself to be that much of a dick to her. He slowed and turned around, clutching at his face.

She gasped. “You’re bleeding!”

“That’ll happen when someone punches you,” he replied dryly.

“I’m so sorry, Alex, I had no idea–” she cut short at the intensity of his glare.

“Let’s be honest with each other, Liz. You knew. You wanted to focus on how he acted around you and turn a blind eye to what he was doing with his buddies, but you knew.” Not even Alex could say Kyle was all bad—four years ago Kyle had been his best friend, after all. There was a different person in there and he had a feeling that was the one Liz saw the most.

“Alex, I…” she trailed off, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Strangely enough, Alex knew what she was feeling; he’d gone through the same amalgamation of emotions before high school when Kyle decided he was more of a liability than a friend.

“I’d really just like to be alone right now,” he said, glad to have an out of this conversation.

“But you’re hurt,” she protested weakly.

He chuckled derisively. “I’ve had worse than a few punches from Kyle Valenti.”

[ Read on AO3 ]

[demaparbat-hp]

“What are you doing here, Izumi?”

Why did you leave?

Zuko and the Painted Lady reconnect in For the Spirits Chapter IV: To Be Human. The past comes back to haunt the Prince and a question goes unanswered.

Why did she come back?

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Little Handprints

There are little handprints on the walls. Eli has little hands. Case solved.

Based on the incorrect quote

Read it on AO3, here

Stiles leant against the kitchen counter, dragging his hand down his face as he let out a heavy sigh. A heavy case load and late nights were starting to wear him thin. And even when he wasn’t working late, his mind ran rampant, making sleep near impossible.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to wake himself more.

The sound of plastic clattering caught his attention. Stiles turned to look where Eli sat in his booster seat at the table. The food tray on his seat was splattered with toast and jam.

“You okay there, Trouble?” Stiles asked.

Eli giggled as he snatched up one of the pieces of jam-covered toast that he had knocked over and took a bite out of it.

“Yeah,” he chirped through a mouthful of mushed toast.

The nickname that had come from Eli’s comedic timing; Stiles’ dad said something about trouble following wherever Stiles and Derek go, and Eli toddled in after them at that moment, prompting the

Sheriff to say, “And here’s trouble!”

The name stuck. And it proved to be fitting on several occasions.

Stiles slid the coffee pot from the percolator and poured the dark liquid into his mug, heaping in spoonfuls of sugar before walking around the corner of the bench and into the dining room.

“Yummy?” Stiles asked as he walked over to the table and sat down next to Eli’s booster seat.

“Yummy,” Eli replied around another mouthful.

Stiles gave him a soft smile before resting his elbows on the table and letting his heady fall, heavy, into his hands.

“You okay?” Eli asked, his sweet voice coiled with worry.

“I’m okay, bud,” Stiles replied, unable to lift his head. “Just tired.”

He felt something tap his cheek. He lifted his head and turned to see what was poking him.

Eli held out a half-eaten piece of toast for him.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, bud,” he said softly, taking the piece of toast offered to him. He ate the toast, dusting the crumbs off his hand before laying his head back in his hands and watching his son eat his breakfast.

He let his mind drift, the world blurring into swirls of colour and movement. His eyes grew heavy as the seductive embrace of sleep crept into the back of his mind. His heavy eyes drifted shut and he sank into the darkness.

“Stiles?” Derek called from the hallway, starling Stiles.

“Hmm?” Stiles hummed questioningly—the most he could muster up.

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” Derek asked, peering around the open doorframe of the dining room.

Stiles blinked a few times, his mind rattling through the mess of thoughts for an answer. He lifted his head slightly and turned to look at Eli in his high chair.

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” he whispered.

“Because I have little hands,” Eli answered, holding up his jam-and-crumb-covered hands to show him.

Stiles turned his head to look at Derek.

“Because he has little hands,” he repeated.

Derek let out a soft chuckle, turning back towards the hallway to hide his smile.

It took a moment for Stiles’ brain to catch up with what he said, realisation stirring him enough for him to sit up and drag his hand down his face.

“What is it this time?”

“Markers,” Derek answered. “Thankfully, it’s the washable ones that Lydia got him.”

“I’ll clean it,” he volunteered, pushing back his chair as he tried to summon what little energy he had left.

“No,” Derek said softly. “Trouble and I will clean it after we finish breakfast.”

“I’m Trouble!” Eli said excitedly, perking up at his nickname.

Stiles and Derek couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, you are,” Stiles said softly, smiling lovingly as he reached out and gently tousled Eli’s hair.

[mischieviem]

Had this concept banging around in my head begging to be released so

I finally forced myself to do it ahaha

[genderjester]

been reading achilles come down & the other fics in that series by @biscaanii / @biscaani & i am honestly obsessed. so of course i doodled some things inspired by it uwu

[supernatural-sophia]

COMPLETE FIC! 

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Jimmy Novak/Dean Winchester, Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester (past), Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Jessica Moore (Supernatural), Jimmy Novak (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Bobby Singer (Supernatural) Mentioned Additional Tags: Work In Progress, Time Travel, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Post-Canon, Time Travel Fix-It, Canonical Character Death, Sad, Hurt Dean Winchester, Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Good Parent John Winchester, Bad Parent John Winchester, Yes both tags, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Plot Twists, Gay Jimmy Novak (Supernatural), no beta we die like everyone in supernatural, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Physically De-Aged Jack Kline, Confused John Winchester, John Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight About Stanford, Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, First Kiss, Mild Smut, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel's True Form (Supernatural)

[leavingautumn13]

some outfit ref and miscellaneous sketches for my sole survivor, nora navarre (character tag here, and here on my fanfic blog, @new-eyes-extra-colors).

notes and character stuff under the cut

GENERAL

demi/bi romantic, asexual, born in late summer (virgo)

nora is 33 at the beginning of the fic and has been working as a public defender since she graduated law school (she did work as a prosecutor very briefly, but didn't vibe with it and went back to her old job)

she was born in arizona and only moved to massachusetts once she decided to go to college when she was 18. she would like to travel, but never really got the opportunity.

she comes from a mixed indigenous family (specifically, potawatomi/french) and has two younger sisters (gene and grace), is estranged from her mother, and mostly gets updates on her family from her grandmother and aunt

she met her husband (dana) while working as a waitress in college. he was studying to be a doctor at the time. they were friends for several years before becoming a couple

she's very dedicated to her work at the expense of her social life, having only a few friends (and most of them are her husband's). she prefers to stay at home and garden, run, read, bake, or go hiking instead of socializing, and despite working as a lawyer dreads any sort of attention at a gathering.

FASHION SENSE

she wears the vault suit quite a lot out of practicality--it fits well and is durable and easy to wear under things. she typically wears it under a coat, or under a sweater and jeans in colder months. under the suit she wears a tank top and leggings if it's cold.

for casual wear, she prefers dresses with a sweetheart type top, and wears midi dresses or sundresses. around sanctuary, she wears flats or goes barefoot in the summer months.

BODY + SCARS

she keeps her hair very long, only cutting it to trim split ends and keep her fringe a certain length. the fringe is originally from when she styled it into victory rolls before she decided she didn't like them, but did like the way fringe framed her face.

she ran track and cross country in high school and still runs as exercise. she has long, muscular legs and good core strength, but not much upper body strength. once she starts using a rifle her arms become more toned, but she still isn't that strong.

she regularly shaved her legs prewar, but after the vault no longer has the means. it takes some getting used to for her

she wears little jewelry--just gold hoop earrings and her wedding ring. once she's able to retrieve her husband's dog tags, she wears them and his wedding ring as a necklace.

the c-section scar from shaun's birth is the only major scar she had prewar

early to mid story scars: the scar on her upper left arm is from the first time she was shot. it was a 5mm round from a sentry bot which fortunately only got her once. she also has a radiation burn in the shape of a handprint from when a glowing one grabbed her.

late to post story scars: about three quarters of the way through my fic, she's in a vertibird crash and suffers severe burns and shrapnel wounds over the right side of her body, from about mid thigh up to her shoulder. she has some scars on her cheek and neck from this also, as well as a big scar from a piece of metal that cut a chunk out of her cheek. she almost lost her right eye. her leg was also badly broken in the crash, and she underwent a procedure to pin her bones back together, which left surgery scars along the side of her thigh and front of her shin. she has some trouble walking after this, and can no longer run the way she used to. she also wears a knee brace on her right leg.

OTHER

as far as fighting goes, she prefers not to, and tries to end every situation she can as nonviolently as possible. she can't fight hand to hand at all, and prefers to stay far away from enemies and snipe.

the companions she travels with most are nick, piper, preston, deacon, x6-88, and of course dogmeat, but she spends time and is friends with all of them.

[koheletgirl]

i just saw someone say natla's zuko's scar was not that bad and use shyamalan's zuko's scar as an example of how it could have been worse and the thing is. well this is the first time i've seen shyamalan's zuko's scar and at least it's *shaped like a handprint*

[theloversthedreamersandme82]

Wherever you find love - Chapter 9 - Theloversthedreamersandme82 - The Doctor Blake Mysteries [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: The Wedding Day!

Notes: SURPRISE! Happy Birthday Dee! @doctoraliceharvey I know it's been forever since I updated this fic but I thought what better day to post a Malice wedding, than the birthday of the person who got me shipping them in the first place!? You guys might need to go back and re-read the previous chapter, or like the whole thing… it's been THAT long… I hope it was worth waiting for and you enjoy it.

Sorry, not available on ff.net just yet. Password issues.

[margindoodles2407]

Flatline (Tumblr Edition)

@seeking-elsewhither (get ready for a long post because this has two chapters >:D )

(By the way. The divider I used is credit of @djarrex. Thank you :D)

Summary:

That's it, it's split, it won't recover Just frame the halves and call them brothers -Regina Spektor, "Call them Brothers"

It is a terrible thing indeed, that the steady pulse of a heartbeat can sound so much like the ticking of a bomb.

Chapter One

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

This is a rhythm that he’s more than used to. This is the rhythm he’s known every night since the first night out of his shared growth jar. This is the rhythm of safety, of security, of everything will be alright, because you’re here with me. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It’s a rhythm as sure as the fingers curled in his hair, as the hand clasped in his own, as the head on his shoulder and the soft, steady breath against his neck. It’s the rhythm in his blood and in his bones and in his dreams. It’s the rhythm, he’s sure, that he needs to survive.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It’s the rhythm that usually lulls him to sleep, that wraps around him like a blanket and keeps him in the safety of his slumber until the morning. Usually.

Not tonight.

Thud. Thud. Thud Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. InhaleExhale.

Something’s off. A dull, creeping sense of something is going to go horribly wrong. A sense of all is not well. A sense that this will be the last time in this life that he ever knows this rhythm.

Thud Thud Thud Thud

Inhale Exhale Inhale Exhale

His brother shifts. Stirs. Mumbles something. His eyelids flutter. He’s on the verge of waking up.

ThudThudThudThud

InhaleExhaleInhaleExhale

There is silence, for just a moment; the kind of silence he knows from Kamino. The kind of silence that comes just before the peal of thunder. The kind of silence in which all he can hear is the rhythm that has been thrown so out of balance.

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD

INHALEEXHALEINHALEEXHALE-

“Attention. All men to leave for the Citadel mission, please report to hangar 13-B. Hangar 13-B. Over.”

The rhythm stops. It does not come crashing to a halt, and it does not sputter and die away like a failing engine.

It simply cuts out as his brother awakes, and sits up, and runs a hand over his face and through his curls before turning to face him with a grin.

“That’s us, Ech. You ready?”

(The rhythm is gone. It’s never coming back.)

“As I’ll ever be.”

Chapter Two

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It’s strange, isn’t it. For him to have known this rhythm his whole life, from his earliest memories until now. It’s been the constant soundtrack to his entire existence. 

Thing is, it’s always been a duet.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He… hasn’t slept. Not in the days since they got back. Not that he particularly wants to, though- because every time he closes his eyes he sees the conflagration, he hears the crash of the explosion and the rush of the flames and his own horrible scream of anguish and despair, and to be quite frank, he’d rather deal with the dull aching gnaw of fatigue than face the black hole of grief yawning in his chest and threatening to drown him.

(He’d rather go sleepless than face the fact that he almost wouldn’t care if it did.)

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

There’s a datapad clutched to his chest, and it might be his only life preserver.

(Personally, I like that it’s so quiet. I can catch up on the Reg Manuals.)

Thud Thud. Thud Thud.

Inhale Exhale. Inhale Exhale.

His vision swims. The Rishi moon must have been a lifetime ago- back when they were fresh off Kamino, heads full of dreams and grand aspirations of heroism. Stupid dreams, he bites out. War doesn’t make heroes. It just makes corpses. It just makes corpses out of everyone you love.

( If you want to be the best, you’ve gotta think like the best. And I’m thinking like an ARC Trooper.

ARC Troopers follow orders.

Care to repeat that, Echo? )

Thud Thud. Thud. Thud-

Inhale. Exhale Inhale. Exhale-

ARC Trooper, he snarls. That’s me. ARC 27-5555. Big fancy title and everything, for a job that just means you get to stand aside as your brothers die. You proud of me, Hevy? You proud of me for letting our little brother down --

Thud- Thud Thud Thud-

Inhale Exhale Inhale- Exhale-

“ARC Troopers follow orders,” kriff, Ech, if that’s true then why couldn’t you just get to the ship like you were supposed to–

(You left a man behind! You broke rule Number One.)

Thud- Thud Thud Thud-

Inhale Exhale Inhale Exhale

The cot is so cold. So empty and cold. Like the black hole.

Thud- Thud Thud- Thud-

Inhale Exhale In- In- In--

He drowns.

[twilightakiishi]

okay so like Endo, you, and one of those 'love is art' kits

thank you, that's all

???!?!!?!!?!? FINNIE???!?!!!?

I DIDNT KNOW WHAT THIS WAS AND HAD TO LOOK IT UP AND I WISH U COULDVE HEARD THE SCREAM WHEN I REALIZED.

[lerry-hazel]

What's my motivation here, boss?

Can you imagine Michael’s second set of instructions for Castiel’s Garrison?

Was it like:

- It’s been 30 years and who knows how many fallen brothers-in-arms, and the First Seal has been broken, but you need to keep besieging Hell to retrieve that specific soul. And, once you do, patch up its rotting carcass, stuff the soul back in and leave the whole thing inside a grave, from where it can maybe crawl back into the world that would kill it back repeatedly.

I mean, “we don’t question our orders” goes a long way, but angels are supposed to be obedient, not brain-dead, right?

No, seriously, I’ve written the rescue scene up to Castiel standing in Alastair’s torture chamber with Dean’s soul in hand, and no POV change is helping me to avoid the question of what possessed him to do all the above, instead of just taking it directly to Heaven *insert a facepalm pic I’m too lazy to find*

[thatonetwig]

A little Jawbreaker fic.

"He asked for no pickles!", Gummigoo yelled as he slammed his hands down on the counter.

"Gummy...", Orbsman said while placing a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Sorry luv, not now! I gotta bring this swindler to justice!", Gummigoo said.

"Sir, for the last time, we are remaking the burger as fast as we can.", Jax said while facepalming.

"Then what's taking so long?!", Gummigoo yelled.

"You know what? You're right. Hey ribbons! What's taking so long?!", Jax yelled into the kitchen.

"I-I'm sorry! H-here's your- ahhhh!", Gangle exclaimed as she tripped while trying to bring the food over to the counter.

The meal flew into the air and Jax caught it with no concern for Gangle.

"Finally. Here. Now get out. I hope Gangle here spat in your food.", Jax said while pushing the bag into Gummigoo's hands.

"D-don't worry! I-I didn’t-

"Shut it.", Jax said before picking her up and throwing her back into the kitchen.

"Heh. Yer lucky that the only punishment you're facing is that you ain't gettin' a tip.", Gummigoo said while adjusting his hat.

With that, Gummigoo and Orbsman turned around and began to walk to the exit.

"You know you didn't have to do that for me, right?", Orbsman said.

"I know...but I'd do anything for your sake if you're not happy.", Gummigoo said.

"It's fine. I appreciate it.", Orbsman said.

"Heh...I love you.", Gummigoo said while kissing Orbsman's cheek.

"I love you too!", Orbsman said excitedly while returning the gesture.

...

(Totally not serving this while cooking up Jawbreaker angst at the same time.)

[t4tstarvingdog]

top ten screenshots that spell disaster for me

[dnf171]

If you were to write a soulmate/bond fic right now how would you do it? Names on each others bodies, matching marks, first time you touch, etc?

hmmmm, two ideas

you remember all of your past lives together after the first time you and your soulmate kiss

or

you get the same scars/injuries on your body your soulmate does!

[potatoesandsunshine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina (Cartoon), Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Scanlan Shorthalt/Pike Trickfoot Characters: Scanlan Shorthalt, Pike Trickfoot Additional Tags: The Legend of Vox Machina Spoilers, Episode 9 spoilers, No Critical Role Spoilers, Major Character Injury, Healing, Feelings Realization, love at nth sight, could scanlan build a pedestal so high that even pike couldn’t stand on it? he doesn't think so, yes it's an arm handprint fic Summary:

Grog goes down under a pile of corpses and Scanlan can’t even take a breath to sing, everything in him hurts so fucking bad and he hasn’t told anyone but it’s started creeping up his neck and down into his chest, and he hopes when he goes Vex will have eyes on him to end it quickly, he hopes he doesn’t get up, this is such a shitty way to go—and then none of that matters, not even a little. Because then: Pike.