#one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Alright let's start off with the primary points:

1 - You do NOT have to give to get.

2 - You do not have to get to give.

3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D

Things You Can Do During This Event:

1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)

2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)

3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!

Details below the cut!

Raffle Prizes!

-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.

-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )

-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD

Gifting Quin!

❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.

❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!

❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰

Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):

1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)

Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something

Birthday Bash Requests \o/

Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD

*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***

-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )

Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)

Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)

Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice

***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***

Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰

[justabigoldnerd]

A Guide to Works by JustABigOldNerd

I saw @hypnostheory do this and I have 38 (holy shit!) works in the TMFU Fandom on Ao3, so I wanted to as well!

"I wanna read somethings soft and sweet" Okay! I don't have a lot, but:

Kintsukuroi - Set in the Winged Spies universe, Solo catches up with an old friend

I'm Going to the Stars Tonight - Playful (and drunk) winged spies

In Summer We Can Taste The Rain - Solo catches a winged Illya preening in the rain

Ravens Love The Snow - A winged Solo can't resist the call of the snow

A Christmas Peril - A Christmas fic!

Surrender Yourself - a funny little pre-slash ficlet based on a writing prompt found here

I Want To Fade Away With You - Modern-ish AU company paintball tournament goes (hilariously) wrong

In The Moonlight, We Let It Go - Poolside confessions

"I'd like some light angst, nothing too serious, please" Gotcha covered:

One More or One Less (Nobody's Worried) - Winged Spies canon rewrite

The Toil of Expectations - Medieval AU with a happy ending and a couple of explicit smut scenes

"Q" Is For Kid - the trio accidentally acquire a child on their mission to stop a Nazi faction from developing a nerve gas

To Grow Old In Simplicity - this is mostly happy, the angst comes from the fear of outliving your partners and the struggles that come with being an aging (former) spy

The Moment I Knew I'd No Choice But To Love You - the agnst in this one is more memory related

Is That The Kinda Way To Face The Burning Heat? - porn with a little bit of angsty backstory

Nothin' But The Water And The Sunrise Now - light angsty backstory with some fun NOS-induced moments and a happy ending

All Eyes On Me (Your Eyes On Me) - this one's a bit heavier, but the angst is just internalized homophobia and Illya not wanting to be a honeypot but needing to. Has masturbation and explicit smut

I Am Scared Of Nothing - religious trauma

A Rather Frightening Thing - religious trauma

As Sharp And Serious As A Pistol In The Eye - canon rewrite (explicit smut)

It Takes Three To Tango - post-canon

"Alright, now I want the heavy stuff. Gimme the angst!" Coming right up, my friend!!

Emotional Angst:

You Had To Be A Big Shot, Didn't You (You Had To Open Up Your Mouth) - Winged Solo backstory

My Wings Have Been So Denied - Winged Illya as a child

She'll Tell You She's an Orphan After You Meet Her Family - Winged Gaby grieving (explicit smut)

You Take Me In Your Arms When Walls Are Closing In - Body Horror in (false)memory

Pretty Piece of Flesh - sexual trauma (explicit sexual content)

The Awful Things We Do To Make The Head Go Quiet - near suicide attempt

Lost On You - internalized homophobia and period typical homophobia

Physical Harm:

Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love (Falling From You Drop By Drop) - Alternative ending where Illya shoots Solo (he lives)

Let Me Be Your Own Icarian Carrion - Winged Spies, Illya goes down in the water

One Deep Breath Out From The Sky - Missing scene fic after the motorcycle crash

Whumptober 2023 - "The Man From Uncle (2015)" - I mean. This is Whumptober. So.

Will You Remember All The Danger We Came From? - Vampire Illya prequel. Body Horror.

All My Love And Terror Balanced There - Illya wakes up as a Vampire. (Explicit smut)

I'd Block The Sun (If You Want It Done) - the trio's plane goes down in the middle of the ocean and they have to survive on a deserted island

Grounded And Giving And Darkening Scorn - Illya's past comes back to haunt him

The Injury of Finally Knowing You - 5+1 Times fic

Major Character Death (temporary):

The End Is All I Can See (And It Scares The Hell Out Of Me) - time loop

"I want that one restaurant critic AU that will be updates eventually but hasn't for a while!" Uh, oddly specific, and thank you for wanting to read this unfinished fic, and I WILL finish it eventually, but, uh, here ya go!:

Michelin Star Spy - Illya is a food critic swept up in spydom.

[its-tortle]

luisaaaa hi 🧡 hope you're well, lovely.

what about stucky & song 42 for the spotify ficlets?

hi allie! 💗 thank you for this, and i'm so sorry for what it is. i saw the song and i was like oh. oh no. and now here we are. this is plotless and angry and sad.

Bucky doesn’t understand how something can hurt this much and not kill you. 

He was sure he’d already had this moment of incredulity years ago, in the hazy moments under Hydra where he didn’t know anything but pain, where all other conceptions of reality were stripped away from him. There had been fire in his veins and a sting of electricity lighting up all of his nerves. There were the endless hours of cold and aching bones. They had taken away his fucking arm, and replaced it with one that sent pangs of hurt up his spine every time he moved. So many times then, he was sure he was a dead man.

And yet, somehow, incomprehensibly, this hurts more. 

Because all of the excruciating Hydra bullshit had been inflicted upon him by villains. This time, he’s been cut into pieces by the only person he was ever sure of.

The thought racks another sob out of Bucky. It echoes through his empty apartment, disrupting the white noise of the traffic outside and the steady drone of the TV in his living room because he can’t stand the silence.

The fucking silence. The silence that Bucky feels like he’s drowning in, the one that won’t go away no matter how many movies he watches or how loudly he blasts the radio. It’s a silence not even he can seem to penetrate, not with his self-narrating monologue or his humming -- let alone with his pathetic sobs and screams.

Pathetic is the world for it, really, Bucky thinks. Because he is a grown man and he’s been through worse than this, dammit, he has. 

But then again, he hasn’t.

He’s never been so completely alone and conscious of it. He’s never been abandoned by the center of his universe.

Said center of the universe decided he wanted to be living in a pretty white house with a wrap around porch and making shoddy pancakes for his pretty wife on Sunday mornings. And it looks like it all worked out for him, looks like this fucked up mess of a century with Bucky in it was off his mind.

So Bucky had given Steve one last pretty smile, and wished him all the best, because that’s what he knows he was supposed to do. That’s what a less pathetic, sane person would do.

But the truth is, he hopes Steve wasn’t happy. He hopes it was hard for him to get out of bed. He hopes Steve got angry about his own choices and that he’d been haunted by his selfishness. He hopes Steve was miserable.

And that’s really what hurts so terribly, because it goes against every fiber of Bucky’s being. He was built to love Steve. He feels like he was put on this earth to wish Steve every happiness, to give him the universe if he asked for it. Bucky feels like braided into his DNA, etched onto every one of his tired bones. It’s the one thing even Hydra couldn’t erase.

But now he wants to hate him. The love has been twisted into something painful and ugly and self-destructive, because Steve had chucked it aside with such a complete disdain and disregard that Bucky wants nothing more than to be able to do the same.

Instead, he cries on his floor and wears Steve’s dog tags, wondering how something can hurt this much and not kill you; wondering if anywhere, anytime in the universe, he could have said or done something to make Steve stay.

--

um. if you want this fixed i choose to picture it as a tiny prequel scene to my skrull!steve verse

[tennessoui]

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

[zimms]

NHL!Chowder Fic Masterpost

this is possibly my favourite trope in the entire fandom, so i’ve trawled through most of the omgcp ao3 to find every single one so that you don’t have to. the ones on here are mainly the ones that are chowder-centric, rather than where he’s just briefly mentioned. i think this is all of them, but if you have any others (or know an author’s tumblr where they aren’t tagged), let me know, or add it in a reblog!

nhl!centric fics

FTG (Fucking Terrifying Goalie) - petals42_tumblr (@petals42)

this is possibly my favourite nhl!chowder fic. it’s an extremely fluffy fic and explores chowder signing for the sharks. it’s definitely the fic i’d recommend reading first in this list.

We Are the Crowd - birds89birds (@omgcphivemind)

a social media fic based around chowder running a hockeyblr. it’s a great outsider pov onto chowder and it’s one of my comfort fics that i read whenever i’m sad. (it’s also loosely based on ftg, so i’d recommend reading them together)

Brothers on Ice - unacaritafeliz (@unacaritafeliz​)

jack and chowder bonding throughout the years! it’s extremely fluffy and i would die for both of them.

It’s Chow Time!! - unacaritafeliz (@unacaritafeliz​)

an interview with chowder whilst he’s playing for the sharks. a great fic if you like media fics or nhl fics. 

the name on the back (jerseys in real time) - jamesiee (@pongpalace)

a short ficlet about chowder’s birthday, whilst he’s playing in the nhl. this fic makes me extremely happy, so naturally i reread this about once every two weeks.

The News - Denois (@sexydexynurse) 

a short fluffy (but slightly angsty) polyfrogs ficlet (though it’s not centralised on the romance) about the frogs waiting for chowder to receive some very important news. i adore this so much.

Puck Aversion: The Birth of a Goalie Superstition - Betweenthepies

a 5+1 fic exploring chowder’s goalie superstitions through time! although not entirely nhl!chowder, there’s a solid chunk of it that is and i’d definitely recommend it if you like the trope

romantic fics 

Colours of the Evening Stars - orphan_account

a fluffy nurseychowder (nurseshark??) get-together fic with a sprinkling of kid!fic. i really liked this and i’ve reread it a few times! although not exactly nhl!chowder centric, it does play a pretty big role in this fic.

Come Back to Me - loveyoutoobits

a hurt/comfort charmer fic where chowder gets injured whilst the sharks are on a roadie and farmer can’t get to him straight away. i would die for park ranger!farmer.

the heart wants such unimaginable things - Anonymous

a parse/chowder fic (with some background farmer/nursey/chowder) where chowder plays for the falcs and is the first trans player in the nhl. i would die for trans chowder.

Many Ways Home - Liminal_Space_LLC (@liminal-space-llc​)

another nurseshark fic where nursey gets traded to the sharks and him and chowder slowly fall in love. i love nhl!nursey just as much as i love nhl!chowder, so this fic was the perfect combo of the two. and it doesn’t shy away from what the nhl is actually like. 

Swap Day - believesinponds

a parse/chowder soulmate au where they switch bodies (i assume this is based on that one art set by ngozi?). it’s very cute and fluffy and has a variety of soulmate tropes. (background charmer, pimms and parswoops)

Valentine’s Game - loveyoutoobits

a charmer meet cute set in new york the week of valentine’s day; i would die for this writer’s characterisations of these two.

You Made Your Choice - unacaritafeliz (@unacaritafeliz)

a nurseshark fic where nursey and chowder work out what they’re going to do after samwell. extremely fluffy and it fills my heart with joy

notable mentions that aren’t strictly nhl!chowder per say, but definitely fit the vibes

Chris Chow: ‘Swawesome Emergency Goalie! - lbswasp 

an ebug fic set in the ice crew universe. i love this so much bc ebug chowder makes soo much sense, especially in the context of the ice crew. 

fins to the left, fins to the right - numberfifteenjersey

although chowder doesn’t play in this fic, i love it a lot. it’s a charmer meet-cute where farmer goes on a bad day to a sharks game and chowder is the heroic mascot that saves her.

Listed EBUG: #55 - Chris Chow - Carpe_History ( @carpe-history )

another ebug fic bc we all love ebugs in this fandom. anyway, a classic chowder gets to play backup goalie for the falcs. i love this fic with all my heart.Puck Aversion: The Birth of a Goalie Superstition

Snug as an EBUG in Pads - rythyme

yet another ebug!chowder fic! this one explores farmer’s role in supporting him a bit more, but still captures the vibes of nhl!chowder. 

Living the Dream - Omgpieplease (@omgpieplease)

not a fic, but a piece of art depicting trans chowder playing for the san jose sharks. i am in love with this art and its style. (this art is also here)

[ladyinbooks]

This little ficlet has been kind of eating my brain alive today, so I had to get it out. I think I just wanted an outside perspective on Hess, and unfortunately this is what happened...

Title: Of Earth Warnings: None Summary: An angel goes to visit the Antichrist.

The offices are cool; tidy. Clean white lines and sleek furniture. The floors are black marble, dark and gleaming. Looking down at them for too long gives Leliel vertigo, as though they are standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the void.

“You get used to it after a while,” Abaddon says unsympathetically.

Abaddon is... not what Leliel had expected. They have never met the creator of the Antichrist before, and certainly wouldn't have believed she would be wearing a guise such as this.

(“Human female,” Abaddon had said pleasantly, when they first met. “If it was a form good enough for Eve to damn mankind in, then it shall certainly do for me.”)

“I don't think I will get used to it,” Leliel says slowly. They look up, watching as Abaddon crosses the floor to them. The neat heels of her shoes make a sharp, clipped sound with each step. “This is deliberate, yes?”

Abaddon shrugs. “Mostly.”

“The Creature chose this?”

Leliel knows the moment the words leave their mouth that they have misspoken. They hadn't meant to use that name; hadn't meant to compound trespass with outright hostility.

“My King chose this,” Abaddon says frostily. “If you have another name for Him, I do not wish to hear it.”

The Beast, sits on the back of Leliel's tongue. Child of the Dragon. The Blasphemer. 'Creature' is, perhaps, the kindest description they could have chosen for the monster now carrying the last pieces of Hespherus Jones in itself.

“My apologies,” Leliel says quietly. “I meant no offence.”

Abaddon considers them. The dichotomy between her human form and the twisted creature beneath is beginning to give Leliel a headache. Abaddon appears perfect; whole. Looking surface deep proves nothing. It is beneath, that Leliel can see the charred remnants of her flesh; the tortured horror of her form. She is suffering and agony writ deep, and further down still, she is pure greed and ambition.

This is the creator, Leliel thinks. This is the one who saw the potential.

That Abaddon chose a candidate for the Antichrist means nothing. That she saw the possibilities in Hespherus Jones, that she raised him above all others, means something else entirely.

She is a demon with vision, and so is her King, and that is enough to worry the Host.

For a moment Leliel and Abaddon stare at one another. Leliel is unsure what the demon is thinking – uncertain if they will even get an audience with the Creature today – but after a small infinity of time, Abaddon clicks her fingers.

“Come on,” she says.

Obediently, Leliel follows her across the reception area, around the corner and down a long corridor.

There are glass windows looking into offices; frosted panes and open doors. Very little cover, and all of it poor. If efforts to resolve the situation do not come to fruition, the idea of storming this building is enough to cause Leliel concern.

“Have you seen enough?” Abaddon asks, as they stop outside of the only door composed entirely of wood. “Or would you like to spy a little more?” Her smile is still unkind. Vicious.

Leliel shrugs. “I have seen enough for now,” they say, unashamed. “You cannot have expected me to walk blind through the building.”

Abaddon's mouth twists unpleasantly, but she hammers a fist against the door nonetheless. “Your five o'clock is here!” she bellows.

She is angry for some reason; Leliel can see it. The darkness of her drips from her human form, seeping into the air around them. It is like a poisonous slick, malignant and choking. Just being in her presence makes Leliel feel tainted.

“You don't –” they begin, as the door opens.

They look around.

The figure in the doorway is strange, unexpected. It is not at all the monster they were led to believe.

Because Hespherus Jones is beautiful in person.

Leliel had been expecting a creature like Abaddon: the antithesis of goodness, of light. They had been waiting for the eternal void of nightfall; the endless plunge of Lucifer's fall made flesh.

Hespherus Jones is none of these things.

He is tall. His body is handsome, for a human's – strong shoulders, wide mouth, soft dark hair and eyes – but his soul.

His soul.

Where Abaddon is oil slick – an indelible stain on the warp and weft of creation – Hespherus Jones is a storm. Dark, dangerous clouds, rich and thick; the unyielding sullen menace of a tempest that has not yet broken. But in that – in it –

Light.

Fragments. Flickers. Leliel isn't sure which. The blinding white of lightning, striking terrifying and true in the distance. Hespherus Jones is a creature of darkness, threaded with an inferno.

Leliel looks up, looks at his face.

They are expecting the same ruin as Abaddon; waiting for the inevitable pain of watching a creature that is leaking from the false form it wears.

They are not expecting this.

He is still tall, still handsome. The strange humanity of his form has not changed. He is studying them, slightly puzzled. The flicker-flash weight of his soul is curious, not angered. He is not of Heaven, nor of Hell, but a strange combination of the two, that can only come from the profaned divine.

What a champion he might have made, Leliel thinks sadly.

On his head is a crown of bone, embedded deep and bleeding. A permanent marker of who he is, now. Who he will always be. Ten spikes to the coronet, and the eternal thorns forever carved deep into the circlet; into his brow.

He took the throne, they know. He completed the bargain. Whatever possibilities Hespherus Jones may once have had, his choice was made long ago. It is seared into him, for all to see.

“You wanted to see me?” the Creature asks, with the voice of a thousand tongues, and Leliel shudders at the sound.

Beauty and temptation; the last echoes of the song of the universe. He is wonderfully horrifying in his grace.

From the corner of their eye, Leliel can see Abaddon watching them; can see the way her lips are curling, just slightly, into the kind of smile that says she is going to enjoy whatever happens next.

It is enough to make Leliel uneasy; enough to make them doubt, for a moment, that this course of action is wisest.

But that kind of thinking led to Lucifer's fall, they remind themselves. Questioning is not sensible: it leads to doubt, and doubt leads to far worse. To torment, to the end of a path that results in abominations like Abaddon.

Leliel clears their throat, as Hespherus Jones stares at them.

“I wanted to talk to you,” they say carefully, “about Daniel Waters.”

[writing-hyena]

Starry Skies and Bony Thestrals (Luna x Harry)

As promised another little ficlet and its actually tied to the other two Lunarry fics I have, its own little universe ┌༼ ˵ ° ᗜ ° ˵ ༽┐ that I love Very Dearly tbh, anyways I hope you likeit! Just a lot of fluff and Harry and Luna talking about their feelings, just how I love it!!

                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry stared wistfully at Luna as she fed the thestrals, completely lost in his own train of thought. It seemed like worries just continued to pile on him day by day as they got further and further into this horrid war. It seemed like everything that had happened to him and continued to happen to him were like these dark tendrils trying desperately to pull him away from his emotions. Especially during this summer he’d felt that desperate pull that always seemed to tug at his conscience, tempting him so with the notion of cutting himself from everything. Of shutting himself away because it seemed that’s what everything wanted him to do.

Then Luna turned and smiled at him. It was always such an interesting thing to see, it filled him with so much warmth, like a lumos had been casted right where his heart was. Her smile always amazed him, just her facial expressions in general really, and the way he always seemed to understand the underlying message in them. Like now, she was curious on what had him so silent.

He smiled, “I’m just thinking.” He replied, gladly answering her silent question.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, staring intently at him as she stroked the mane of one of the thestrals.

“Love,” he says matter of factly. At one point, maybe he would have hesitated at saying such things, but Luna had taught him a lot of things as of lately. His openness in his emotions being one of them. “And how being loved by you is something I never really expected nor thought would ever really be possible.”

A snort came from Luna at this, a sort of sardonic tone with it. Not something one would ever really expect from Luna Lovegood of all people, but then not many truly took the time to know the girl. All they chose to see was an air headed girl who seemed perpetually unbothered. “That’s strangely high paise don’t you think?”

Harry’s smile softened at this. “I didn’t necessarily mean it like that, of course being loved by you is an honor though.” The indian boy let out a deep sigh before speaking again, throwing himself back onto the grassy ground of the forest. “It’s just that all my life I never really saw myself as someone who was capable of being loved. I was brought up being taught that love was something I didn’t deserve in any of its forms, and I believed that very much. Then, when I got to the wizarding world I felt that even more. I saw this ugly broken world hiding things behind this idea of perfection just like the Dursley’s did, and so I thought it was the same thing. It felt like the same thing a lot of the time. For a long time it made me lock away a part of myself that I hadn’t realized I’d been denying. I’d starved myself of affection because I felt I was still unworthy of it.” He paused for a moment, feeling his throat become sore as he tried to hold back tears. The stars above him, twinkling and shining began to look blurry, yet he knew he had his glasses on still. 

There was a long moment of silence as he tried to recollect himself, try and push himself through finishing this little spiel. Of truly and wholly opening up his heart to the girl. He felt stupid, weak, for having this much trouble trying to express himself to the other.

He looked in mild surprise as Luna settled herself next to him on the grass, taking hold of his hand as she smiled gently up at the stars. “It’s okay to take as long as you need Harry.” She said gently, her voice feeling like the light tinkling of wind chimes. “You don’t have to rush for me. I’m sure we have forever and a lifetime.”

That same warm feeling from before nestled itself into his chest at her words. This clear affirmation of the future ahead of them, the future that’s just for them. It was these soft words, spoken under star light amongst skeletal horses that made him turn fully on his side to face her, prompting Luna to do the same.

Harry held her gaze as he finally began to continue, “To be honest I still feel like I’m not deserving of it. Of your love and affection, because everything has always told me that I simply hurt those close to me. That I shouldn’t be allowed to love in the midst of all this horridness that surrounds us. It’s this mixture of guilt and shame that seems to just constantly pull and tug at me. Like it’s trying to drag me further and further into this pool of despair that’s made itself a permanent fixture of my psyche. Yet here you are, this lovely wonderful person that it feels like I was made to love.” He gave her a soft smile as she gently caressed his cheek, a silent gesture telling him that she felt the same. “It’s strange, because as I got to know you it was like I was slowly surfacing from that pool of despair that I’d been sinking deeper and deeper into. It’s not as though you saved me so to speak. But getting to know you, getting to know Luna Lovegood, this wonderful spectre that made me think in ways that I didn’t think was possible, began to make me want to save myself. It was like without knowing it I was giving you my heart piece by piece. Even if I feel like I shouldn’t, like I don’t deserve it, you make me want to love even in this world that seems to keep trying to tell me that I shouldn’t.” 

Luna’s eyes were twinkling as brightly as the stars above their heads as she gazed at him, a smile so gentle and full of love directed at him. She wondered how she got so lucky to be in love with a boy like this. So much so that she even dared to say it out loud. “How was I so fortunate to have Lady Magic bless me with such a wonder like you? For such a long time I didn’t think anyone but my father could love me. No one ever truly accepted me, I was too strange, just Loony Lovegood, but you accepted me. You didn’t simply accept me in spite of what others consider oddities like my interest in nargles and crumple horned snorkacks. You actually listened to what I had to say, you believed me and took me seriously. That’s honestly all I’ve ever wanted from someone, and you managed to give me that and even more. You stood up to bullying that it seemed everyone ignored, you chose to fully understand me and what I had to say instead of writing me off.” She laughed slightly, “I had no other choice but to love you Harry, because even from the start without realizing it you granted my biggest wish.”

“And what was that?” He asked, unconsciously leaning closer, lost in her wonderfully silvery eyes.

“To simply be understood. To be accepted and treated as an equal.”

There was a long pause of silence as they both simply stared at each other. The two teens felt nothing but contentedness as they lay there, happy to have exposed their hearts to the fullest in that moment. It was like there was a dream like quality to the air as they just simply existed in this thing they’d created for each other. This small little world where they could so quietly love and be happy and resist the harshness that the rest of the world demanded of them.

After a long while Harry finally spoke up again, “I’m happy Lady Magic sent me to you. I’m happy I was able to make your wish come true. Most of all, I’m happy that I’m able to love you.”

“And I’m happy that I inspire you to save yourself. I’m happy that I was able to allow you understand that you deserve love. Most of all, I’m happy I was given the opportunity to love you as well.”

“I guess we’re a perfect pair then don’t you think?” He said, leaning in even more, slowly closing the gap between them more and more.

“As perfect as thestrals and death.” She said dreamily before kissing him herself. 

It was under the starry lit sky, surrounded by thestrals, sharing a kiss with this girl he knew he’d love for many lifetimes over, that Harry Potter knew he deserved to be loved.

[beneathashadytree]

Hi guys! These are my rules for requesting. Please first make sure to check if my requests are open, and then check my guidelines out.

FANDOMS I (CURRENTLY) WRITE FOR:

Attack on Titan/Shingeki No Kyojin (complete manga)

One Piece (up till Wano)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (up till Jojolion)

Moriarty the Patriot (complete manga)

My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia (up till Season 5)

Bungou Stray Dogs (up till anime)

Haikyuu!! (complete manga)

Kuroko’s Basketball/Kuroko no Basket (complete anime)

Tokyo Revengers (up till Season 1)

Jujutsu Kaisen (up till Film 0)

Free! (complete anime)

Yona of the Dawn (up till anime)

Dororo (complete anime)

Mr. Love: Queen's Choice/EVOL X LOVE (all characters on EN server)

Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All (all characters except Thirteen, Mephistopheles, and Raphael)

Mystic Messenger (all characters except Rika and Saeran)

Ikemen Sengoku (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Vampire (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Prince (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Revolution (all characters on EN server)

GENRES I (CURRENTLY) WRITE:

Fluff (platonic and romantic, but preferably romantic)

Smut (as long as I am comfortable with it!)

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Slightly suggestive/steamy themes

Modern AUs

Soulmate AUs

Any mental illnesses/eating disorders/neurodivergent characters I'll research as best as I can and write for them!

VERY IMPORTANT SIDE NOTES:

In the case of any characters being under-aged, I will sometimes age them up to 18+ when writing fluff pieces, as I no longer am a minor.

I prefer writing all genres with a gender-neutral reader that uses they/them pronouns, as it makes me feel more comfortable, and is the most inclusive option. I strongly dislike constantly writing for female readers because it’s extremely restrictive, and I myself am not a female. It gets very tedious having to constantly write for something I am unlikely to enjoy or understand.

When writing headcanons, I stick to writing for a maximum of 6 characters per post. When writing oneshots or drabbles, I will only write for one character per post.

I do not describe anatomy, religious beliefs, sexuality, race, or any otherwise specific details of the reader. As someone who has never been represented in any piece of media, I try my best to be as inclusive as possible.

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE:

Incest/pseudocest

Non-con

Period sex (with AFAB reader)

Abuse from any characters

Any underage characters without aging up to 18 years old MINIMUM

Major age gaps where one party is a grown adult and the other has not yet matured

Yandere themes

Crack/comedy without any romance

Friends-with-benefits

Oneshots without any mention of the reader

Ficlets (AKA heavily detailed requests that are 4K+ words long)

AUs from fictional universes that I don’t know

Readers that are similar to fictional characters that I don’t know

Objectification of female characters for the sake of comedy

I will regularly update this as time progresses! Thank you, and I hope you guys will enjoy my writing.

[runrundoyourstuff]

8 Favorite Works of the Year

I was tagged by the wonderful @mimik-u! Maggie, I feel so grateful to be in this wild fandom world with you, and to have you as a chavruta to think about important issues with via the medium of fic and some of our favorite stories! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ad naseum--this is a very real and very important thing, and it’s such a gift to share it. If you haven’t already, please check out some of Maggie’s work. It’s amazing, and as someone who has been following it for a few years now, it’s been amazing to see how it’s grown!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work! 

Here they are, in no particular order.

1. Essences (Steven Universe, 5539 words)--I wrote this piece as a part of @fandomtrumpshate for @pearldefiance, and it’s about Pearl helping Yellow Pearl adjust to freedom after CYM. This is probably my favorite fic I’ve written, not only this year, but ever, because I feel like I was able to draw out real character insights in subtle, emotive, and yet effective ways--and I was really proud of it. I also felt like, even more than other fics I’ve written, there were real character arcs with a real resolution, even in 5000 words, and that is something I am very proud of too.

2. Switch (Gravity Falls, 3483 words)--Sometimes you write certain pieces, and in the experience of writing those pieces, you really feel like you come to understand a certain character. I had a piece like that for Pearl. I had a piece like that for Iroh. And for me, this was a piece like that for the Gravity Falls character Ford. Essentially, in this fic, I track Ford’s character trajectory-- especially his body issues and sense of low self-esteem--through pre-canon, canon, and post-canon, by examining his relationship with a body-swapping carpet, (an invention of his that is featured in an early episode of the cartoon). This felt like a deeply personal piece for me--I felt like I saw a lot of myself and my own issues in Ford here, and the process of writing this piece felt deeply cathartic.

3. Pikuach Nefesh (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 788 words)--I watched Buffy for the first time during the quarantine, and while there was a lot I loved about it, something I didn’t love was Willow’s disappearing Jewishness. What I tried to do here is put some of Willow’s choices at the beginning of Season 6 in the context of her Jewishness (without letting her off the hook for them), and also to push back against the highly Christian-normative rules of the Buffyverse. 

4. Kintsugi (Steven Universe, 1471 words)--I was just really happy with how this one turned out. This is just a piece reflecting on the experience of the “un-shattered” Gems, i.e. the Gems that Yellow Diamond shattered during SU pre-canon and canon, and then reconstructed in Steven Universe Future.

5. Always Thought I Might Be Bad  (Steven Universe, 406 words)--One of the most compelling parts of Diamond Days, I think, is this idea that Steven has been dealing with an identity crisis for so much longer than we as viewers have necessarily explicitly noticed. Those seeds were always there in canon, though, and this little ficlet was just an attempt to draw them out. In particular, this piece takes place in early s4, as Steven is still reeling from the revelation that his mother supposedly shattered Pink Diamond, and how that affects his larger crisis. This was a pretty angsty piece...and I was really satisfied with it.

6. We Changed in an Instant (We Became So Much More) (Steven Universe, 1474 words)--For me, one of the joys of writing SU fic is noticing common threads between characters, and in this piece, I tried to do that with Pearl and Ruby, reflecting on the similarities (and to some extent the differences) between Ruby’s relationship with Sapphire and Pearl’s relationship with Rose. I really felt like I got at something real with these characters here, and I’m pleased with how that happened.

7. Remembrances (Gravity Falls, 2075 words)--Another Jewish fic! This one I wrote for @daysofawesome, an awesome Jewish fanfiction fest that I relaunched this year with the permission of the original creator. Gravity Falls is a show about growth, community, childhood, and family--and in this piece I tried to frame some thoughts I had about that, especially as it exists in the finale, through the lens of Jewish ritual. (The Pines family are all canonically Jewish, even if that is only hinted at in first level canon). I’m really satisfied with the results here also.

8. Sunrise (Gravity Falls, 877 words)--Don’t have a lot to say about this one, but I felt like I was getting to know Ford and Stan’s dynamic here. This is a post-canon piece, trying to grant Ford and Stan a little bit of post-canon catharsis while they’re at sea, and I enjoyed writing it quite a lot! I tag @findswoman, @fanfoolishness, @coffee-b, @palezma, and anyone else who wants--with the reminder that this can be fic, art, or any other creation!

[arielsojourner]

Still wanting to marry this fic Part 4

There is suddenly a plot. I wasn’t planning a plot. WTF? I wasn’t even planning this part (or any other parts, I had other dragon!Jaskier plot bunnies) but then I read the comments to my post and suddenly IDEA. It is wild how that happens! You can thank Ciri for this part. She didn’t want to leave things (or Geralt) alone so here you go! 

 So have another ficlet where dragon!Jaskier attends a music festival and causes a riot. My love of  @nemainofthewater‘s Shining Universe/dragon!Jaskier universe knows no bound  (her fic can be found here, READ IT AND MY OTHER FICLETS FIRST OR THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562836?view_full_work=true ). 

Other ficlets (both connected and unconnected to this plot) are on my Tumblr under the tag #dragon!jaskier.

*

Geralt was climbing the most insane cliff side he’d ever seen over a turbulent sea. Geralt was doing this because if he didn’t Ciri said she would never speak to him again. 

At first in the face of that threat, Geralt had rejoiced. Fine! Don’t speak! He didn’t like a lot of noise when he traveled anyway! But then she’d followed through on her threat. She actually followed through! No one (Jaskier) had ever managed to successfully follow through on that threat! Not in 20 plus years! They (Jaskier) had always given in in under an hour and begun talking and singing again. But Ciri not only followed through she kept it up. For days. She spoke to Roach. She spoke to people on the road. She even spoke to a monster he was trying to kill but she wouldn’t. Speak. To. Geralt.

Not until he apologized to Jaskier.

Which was why he was now climbing this stupid gods be damned cliff. Because his child by surprised would not speak to him, would pretend to be deaf around him, until he hunted down the bard and apologized and the bard accepted his apology.

He never should have told Ciri about Jaskier. He should have held his tongue. He never had a problem holding his tongue around other people (Jaskier) before! But nooooo, she pestered him and prodded him and when she’d confessed she’d seen Jaskier fly off with a dragon of all things, Geralt had given the game away and she had pounced!

(“A dragon? What dragon? Jaskier was with a dragon?”

“Ah-ha! So you do know him! I never said his name was Jaskier!” She crowed. “You lied when you said you didn’t know him! He said he’d known you, had been your companion for 20 years! Tell me about him! Why is he with a dragon? How could you have traveled with him for so long when he’s so young? Is he your son? I thought Witchers couldn’t have children! Is he a mage? He said he was there when my parents got married! He said my father was a hedgehog! He said my mother had powers! What was he talking about? Tell me and don’t lie! I’ll know if you lie!”)

Geralt had caved like he hadn’t caved to anyone (Jaskier) in years. Slowly, in fits and starts, over many days, Ciri had pulled it out of him, one tale at a time. The Devil of Posada. The djinn. Her mother’s betrothal banquet. And finally, finally the mountain and the dragon hunt.

Ciri was very quiet by the end of the tale. She looked at him with  disappointment, some measure of pity, and a healthy dose of “You are a colossal idiot. Why do I love you again?”  If he was being honest with himself he would say he knew that look all too well, though it had been sometime since he had seen it on anyone (Jaskier’s) face.    

“You’re going to apologize,” Ciri said firmly and there was no argument in her voice, she sounded as commanding as her grandmother ever was. “You’re going to find him and you’re going to apologize to one of your oldest and dearest friends for being a-a horses ass and taking out your hurt on him just because he was there.”

“Don’t swear.”

“I’ll swear if I damn well please! You need to do this. You didn’t see his face when I was cruel to him, and said that he was a liar because I believed you instead. He was–he was so hurt that you’d never told me about him, that you pretended you never knew him. He asked if you were happy. He told me that was all that was important to him. That you were happy.”

Geralt turned away at that, unable to look in those earnest blue eyes that were so familiar to someone else’s (Jaskier’s) blue eyes. He felt a deep well of shame inside him that this time he couldn’t just push away or ignore or drown with drink or killing monsters. He had been cruel to someone who was kind to him and there was not much lower or more despicable than that, a person who repaid  caring with disdain and hatred.

“I don’t know where he is,” he finally said. “No one’s seen him for years before the festival. The songs mentioned a dragon kidnapping a bard. I-I asked Yennifer to look for him once, but she couldn’t find him.”

“Well obviously he’s with his father who’s a dragon and his sister who’s a dragon. You just told me Borch was a dragon in human form who rescued a dragon’s egg. So he’s with Borch. They must have adopted him or something like that. Like you did with me. We just need to find Borch and then you’ll find Jaskier. Simple.”

Not simple, Geralt was finding as he clung to the cliff side, inching his way up the sheer face to the opening that was barely visible but that Geralt had to trust was there. If he made it to the top and Jaskier wasn’t there Geralt was not going to be happy.

“Hello there!” a voice called from far above.

He knew that voice. Borch. He’d found the dragon’s home at last.  He risked lifting his chin to look up and saw the large scaled face peering down at him.

“Borch,” Geralt said in relief. “Don’t suppose you could give me a lift?” he asked.

“Sorry, no.”

Geralt gaped for a moment and then banged his forehead once against the cliff. “Fuck.” Ciri had warned him.  She’d told him Jaskier’s “family” was very caring and protective of him. That protection obviously meant protecting Jaskier from Geralt!

Well, he was just going to have to prove Jaskier’s family wrong, wasn’t he! With a grunt, he reached for the next tiny handhold with his finger tips and pulled himself up another few inches. His fingers searched for the next handhold above his head.

“Slow going?” Borch asked.

“This is not as easy as it looks! I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t --urg-- wouldn’t distract me!”

“My apologies,” came the sardonic response.

“Fuck.” It bared repeating as he pulled himself up another few inches, a rain of dirt filling his mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I do hope you’re language improves on your journey up to our home. I’m not in the habit of letting my children hear such curse words no matter how satisfying they are to say. I’ve just gotten Julian to stop saying and thinking them and you shan’t be talking to him if that is all you have to say.”

With a snarl, Geralt risked a glare up the sheer cliff side to where the dragon rested on the ledge, clawed arms folded as he took his ease in the afternoon light. “I am talking with Jaskier and I’ll use whatever language I fucking want to!”

“It would be a pity, Geralt of Rivia, for you to have made it all this way only to be sent straight back down this cliff again. The choice is yours, however. You are coming uninvited into our home and such language is not permitted in our home or around my children.”

He really didn’t have much of a choice, he realized. Borch could pluck him off the side of the cliff and throw him into the sea. He could reach the top only for the dragon to bat him off the side and even he would probably not survive a fall from this height.

“Fine. I’ll fucking watch my language after I scale the cliff. Happy?”

“I’d be happier if you would go back down but I know too well how stubborn you can be. Take your time,” the dragon called closing his eyes to take a nap in the sun.

“Fuck,” Geralt growled as he struggled for his next hand hold. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Better get it out of his system now, because dragon or no dragon, he was getting up this cliff and talking to Jaskier!

*

I have no idea where this came from. I have no idea what to write next but I hope you enjoyed this extra ficlet you sparked with your comments. :) Again, all hail and thanks goes to the amazing original author. I am just loving her dragon!Jaskier fic. I love ever bit of it to pieces. Go read and comment if you haven’t already! New chapters up daily. She is amazing!

[aubrey-plaza]

hope you're doing good during this crazy time! was wondering if you have any recs for crossbow canary fics to read?

so I have another fic rec list here that also has some dinah x helena recs so check that out too if you need more. 

You can always go to the tag and sort by kudos but the ones below are some of my absolute favourites and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do :)

Crossbow Canary / Dinah x Helena:

In my darkness I remember

by ThanksForListening / @thanks--for--listening (13.154, complete)

summary: Helena gets stabbed, Dinah blows her powers, and everyone needs therapy.

notes: this is hurt/comfort at it’s FINEST. Two chapters, one from each POV with a delicious exploration of backstory and characterisation, and a story that will rip your heart out still beating. It’s a beautiful fic and honestly, any words I say won’t do it justice and you should just read it.  

would you like to cuddle under my weighted blanket?

by tonksremus (3721, rated M, ½ chapters)

summary: Dinah discovers Helena’s weighted blanket and then decides to wife her. Really. That’s the basis of this entire fic.

notes: there are simply no words to describe how fucking hilarious this fic is. Even before the big laugh out loud moment, the author sets up smaller bits and pieces for you to laugh over and the whole time I was reading it I had a smile on my face. I recommend not reading this in public. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much while reading a fic. Add to that a delicious cameo by Poison Ivy and great characterisation all around and you’ve got yourself a pretty stellar piece of writing. I cannot wait for the second part to this!

hoping to find (what i can’t figure out yet)

by sinandmisery / @sinand-misery (6863, T, wip)

summary: “I realized after I got to my class, I never got your name.”

“Oh, um- Helena.” She stands, hand outstretched awkwardly for a handshake. “Helena Rosa.”

“Dinah Lance,” she says, laughing as she shakes Helena’s hand. Her hands are cold from the bottles of beer, but Helena’s hands are warm - so warm - and Dinah doesn’t want to let go.

OR;

The college AU where they become friends and fall a little bit (a lot) in love.

notes: anybody who knows me knows I don’t read WIPs. full stop. I try to keep up and really love supporting my friends but wips are just so hard for me to keep up with and YET. There’s this college AU that’s so riveting and well written that I eagerly await the email that brings the next chapter with it. There’s intrigue and a solid backstory laced with a delicious banter and characterisation that’s just *chefs kiss*. I love it so much I made a social media AU for it.

For a Little While Longer

by Ciocco / @suolasirotin (1664, rated T, tw in story notes)

summary: ‘Psychologically speaking, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis we hope for.’

Helena has a choice to make.

notes: the way this was written had my throat in a knot and my chest warm the whole way out despite knowing that it would end well and there’s a beauty to the prose and the internal monologue that gives it such an authentic feeling. Your heart will hurt for Helena and sympathise and the way this moment was written, you will want to be drawn to Dinah. It’s so well written and I keep coming back to it.  

i don’t wanna be your friend (i wanna kiss your lips)

by MontagueBitch (porcia_catonis) (1090, G)

summary: Helena practiced this moment in front of her mirror a dozen times, and somehow, it still doesn’t come out right. How typical.

notes: Helena is a goddamn disaster and I love her so much. This fic reads like a movie, perfectly described with the right amount of dialogue and feels so natural and like them.  

Quarantine Oneshots / Chapter 17 - You’re So Vain  

by BlueJay_Silvertongue (1588, rated T)

summary: Helena and Diana attend a funeral in Italy, and Dinah finally confronts her feelings for Helena.

notes: so this is I think the second one shot in this series that’s CC, but in the first one it’s basically revealed that Diana and Helena sometimes sleep together. Still, it’s a short piece and manages to be so compelling and really stuck with me and I keep coming back to it. Part of a quarantine collection so I’m p sure author is doing a ficlet a day and I have to say the notes at the end are really uplifting as well!

I Don’t Deserve This (You Look Perfect Tonight)

by Dash_El (1168, rated G)

summary: “What’s wrong, Helena?” Dinah asks curiously. “Never danced with another girl before?”

“No, it’s not that.” Helena’s arms are rigid, her hands balling up into fists. She breathes out slowly before admitting the truth. “I’ve never danced with anyone before.”

notes: is there anything better than two people slowdancing together? the answer is yes: this fic. It’s slow and simple and practically evokes the imagery in your head.  

I’ve been at war for so long.

by D_writes (2235, rated G, will leave you hungry)

summary: One shot exploring a bit of Helena’s Italian heritage and some habits she brought with her from the old continent.

notes: Carla Lalli Music said Love is a thing you can taste, and she was right. I love a fic based around food and eating because what’s more caring that wanting your loved ones to be well fed? The Italians are good at this and having Helena connect with that part of her heritage and basing a story around it? Absolute pinnacle of poeticism.  

Pegasus

by catfishofoldin99colours / @catfishofoldin99colours (3617, rated G)

summary: A chilly rooftop evening, half a bottle of brandy down her throat, and the entire sky mapped out above. Not what Dinah imagined when she’d first thought of kissing Helena, but she’s not one to argue with the universe like that.

notes: will I ever stop recommending this fic? unlikely. I am a SUCKER for pining Dinah. Most fics in the tag are written from Helena’s pov but the absolute deliciousness that is a yearning Dinah is just. There are no words. They’re so goddamn awkward and I love them so much.  

Sleepover

by emmer_gency / @cleanquean (4549, T, wip)

summary: It’s not like Dinah doesn’t realise she’s got it bad for Helena; she knows that all too well, thank you very much. The problem is, what the hell do you do about it when it’s right there in your face, at work, at home, in your kitchen and in your bed? And how do you keep Harley Quinn from unintentionally ruining all of it?

notes: I just. I love this fic so much. Harley is the perfect foil these two morons being incredibly awkward around each other but I still just cannot get enough.  

i’d like it if you stayed (and i like you)

by mess_is_mine (3269, rated E)

summary: Living together, when Dinah hasn’t been laid in months, when they’re spending their nights in situations that get Dinah’s adrenaline going, when Helena has a habit of walking around in sleeveless shirts or even just a sports bra and low slung joggers?

Yeah, it was only a matter of time before Helena walked in at an inopportune moment.

notes: this is. very hot. features a very pent up Dinah being walked in on and hot and (surprisingly) tender smut.  

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

by zxywrites / @zxyjxy​ (3790, explicit)

summary: They have sex in a church. Not sure what else to say.

notes: relapsed gay catholics unite! but seriously, note I didn’t put an E but instead wrote out the word explicit. It’s explicit. They’re in a church. and yet, my favourite line isn’t a piece of smut but instead a section of gorgeous prose sprinkled throughout this story that really elevates it from being gratuitous smut to something absolutely beautiful. But it’s also really hot.  

no fic specifically but all of @thewomanofwonder / thewomanofwonder’s stories are good!

and of course you can read the fics I wrote

Happy reading, Anon!

[thelallybrochlibrary]

Librarian’s Choice: Weekly Picks

Hello all! Lately I’ve been rereading some stories in our fandom that are just a bit older, and that I haven’t checked out in a little while. I’m so grateful we have such a wealth of talent in our fandom, and I’d love to share with you some of that talent from a few years ago! Let’s get started, shall we?

An Endless Night / Vergangenheit by @phoenixflames12​

An Endless Night and its follow up fic Vergangenheit are some heavy hitters. Not shying away from difficult or intense topics, this WWII AU follows Captain James AMM Fraser through his imprisonment, journey home, and fight for recovery. The story expands through the eyes of Claire and their three children, telling the story of this family’s struggle to find the beauty in healing and reconnection. While not exactly a piece of light fluffy reading, this universe beautifully explores both the intense and the simple moments of life that make up the sum of our complicated, messy, gorgeous, human experience. 

Be sure to check out all the ficlets and additional scenes in the An Endless Night universe!

The Rebel and the Rose by @mybeautifuldecay​​

Have you ever wondered, “What if Claire was from the 1700s? What if she met Jamie in the midst of the Rising? What if Claire and Black Jack had a dark past?” Well, wonder no more! This story starts when a pair of Highlanders on the run stumble into an Englishwoman’s house, and turn her life upside down. This one carries some dark themes, but it’s the best kind of hurt/comfort. And rest assured, no matter the time or circumstances, our Jamie and Claire will always be destined for each other!

Note that the link above sends you to @mybeautifuldecay​‘s entire fic masterlist. The Rebel and the Rose should be the third story from the top; while you’re there, be sure to check out the rest of her wonderful writing!

Red Jamie and the White Lady by @diversemediums​ and @takemeawaytocamelot​

I’ve been rereading this masterpiece recently, and I got sucked back in like it was the very first time! Psychic!Jamie, Cynic!Claire, destiny, magic, evil forces at work.... This fic has it all! This fascinating AU is built around a rich, complex world, with Jamie and Claire learning about their powers right along with us. We all know that Jamie and Claire are each other’s heart and soul, no matter what situation they’re in, but it’s a different matter entirely to see them in a world where they were literally made for each other. Check this one out if you’ve been craving a story with some magic!

That’s all for this time around! Hope you enjoy, and have a great rest of your week!

- Librarian Julia

[luninosity]

Okay, I’d already had the idea, so I couldn’t resist! One final @whumptober2020 ficlet (so...extra completion, I guess? :D ) for theme 30 (because I’d forgotten I’d already done that one!) NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? prompt: Ignoring an Injury

This one’s in the Character Bleed universe! It’s a Sam/Leo story, set sometime in the future...

#

Sam had seen a decent amount of television, and a decent amount of science fiction. He’d even seen a few episodes of this particular show, though not one in which Leo’s amoral space villain character popped up.

 He waited very quietly where he’d been told to wait, out of the way behind cameras. He gazed at the movie set. They were filming in Ireland, in a wild jumble of dark rocks and crashing waves that’d stand in for an alien planet. Sam had never been to Ireland, or on a movie set, before.

 Before Leo Whyte. Before kisses like rainbows, and brightly-colored teacups appearing in the morning, and the way Leo’s eyes warmed, green and brown shifting like shyly happy sand, every time Sam took his hand.

 Dating an actor wasn’t without complications. Leo spent more money on new couch pillows than Sam had spent on an entire couch, and generously offered to pay for Sam’s whole family to visit London, and genuinely had no idea how to navigate a supermarket. Leo wasn’t Colby Kent levels of famous, but was recognizable enough that cameras popped up at airports and restaurants, and only the day before Sam had stepped to the side while Leo smiled and took pictures, as requested, with a group of fans who’d spotted them in a Reykjavik bookshop. That’d taken at least twenty minutes.

 He watched Leo and the other actors get into position, crashed spaceship behind them. The male lead, the counterpart to Leo’s delightfully over-the-top petulant wickedness, said something that made Leo laugh, a joke or a comment. They were all dressed in tattered post-crash versions of science fiction extravagance, colorful and quirky. Leo’s long coat billowed in Icelandic wind; he glanced across rocks and cameras toward Sam, and waved enthusiastically before flopping down into rubble.

 Dating an actor might be complicated. But dating Leo Whyte made Sam’s whole world more wonderful. Bigger. Way more full of rainbows. He wouldn’t be anywhere else.

 He stayed out of the way. No one minded him being on the set—in fact, the director had been enthused about Leo’s photographer boyfriend dropping by, especially after Sam’s portraits of Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli’d had such an impact, and had said it’d be an honor if Sam wanted to document some of the filming process—but Sam was also very aware that he knew next to nothing about the intricacies of television production.

 He had been capturing moments all week, and he’d happily contribute to a behind-the-scenes book. He was honestly amazed to have been asked, and asked in that tone of voice. He was still getting used to people knowing his name.

 They began rolling. Leo’s character woke up first, struggling upright. He’d been responsible for sabotaging the ship, of course; but he had not planned for an outright crash.

 He gazed around: at broken rocks, at a split-open ship hull, at flung bodies of companions. His expression changed; his whole posture changed. So many emotions ran through hazel eyes, lingered in the tip of his head, the set of his shoulders. He could escape. He could finish off his sworn enemy. He could try to contact his evil minions, back with the fleet.

 Leo was so good at embodying a character, Sam thought. So brilliant. So talented. So much nuance. So amazing.

 And his chest and body and even fingertips glowed, despite chilly wind: that was his boyfriend, being a genius.

 Leo—clearly still shaken from the crash—staggered to the body of that adversary, that equal. The hero. Injured—badly so, a skewer of metal through his stomach—and bleeding, unconscious. At his mercy.

 Leo, in character, dropped to both knees. Looked at the hero; looked at the blood; looked at the rocks, his own hands, the pouch at his belt that held poisons, communications arrays, sonic weapons. They’d fought each other and challenged each other and taunted each other for years, in the course of the show, on and off: a relationship fraught and crackling with intensity.

 Leo’s character had studied energy transference, vital forces, psychic powers. He put out a hand. Rested it on the dying hero’s chest. No other characters, no companions, had stirred yet, though they would momentarily, on cue.

 Special effects wizardry would transform the moment, Sam knew. But he looked at Leo’s face: calm, making a choice, no hesitation.

 The wounds should fade. Vanishing. Healing.

 Transferred.

 They did not cut—the visual effects would handle the vanishing—but let the scene play out. The hero gasped in a breath, woke, sat up easily. Took in the situation with rapid-fire intellect. Spun to glare at Leo’s villain, who was now leaning back insouciantly against a broken piece of spaceship, arms crossed.

 Leo just smiled. The hero demanded, “Don’t just stand there, be useful!” and pushed himself to his feet. “Shouldn’t expect anything else, should I…”

 “No.” Leo didn’t move. “Why would I help you?”

 “You’re still here. Why didn’t you run?”

 “Perhaps my plan requires my presence. Shouldn’t you assist your minions?”

 “They’re companions!” But he was, even as he scowled at Leo some more. “Just stay out of the way.”

 Leo gave an ironic small salute. The main cast pretended to come to, waking up, groaning, checking on each other. Discussions began happening: where they’d landed, repairs, what to do next.

 Leo, with no one paying him any mind, slid a hand inside his shirt, between fasteners. His fingers came away red; he looked at them for a moment, then buttoned his coat, dark and tight, over the shirt. Hiding the wound. Concealing the layers of emotion.

 Sam, watching, felt his heart speed up. Of course it was the character, of course he felt for the character—but it was Leo too, his Leo, beautiful and wounded and exhausted, and nobody’d ever know how much he’d just done, the pain he’d taken, for a man who’d sworn to fight him…

 Leo’s face was aware of all of that, in that second. And Sam, despite knowing it was fictional, ached for him. Hated everyone who’d ever made him lonely. Loathed the blood on Leo’s hand, under the shirt.

 Leo looked up as the good characters all turned his way, and said brightly, “Come to a glorious optimistic decision, have we?”

 “Be quiet for once,” grumbled the angriest of the companions, “prisoners don’t get to talk. We’re taking you to the Time Authority.”

 “Ah, a plan. I shall look forward to seeing how you’ll manage it, with no working transport or communications.” Leo held out both wrists for binders, ironic. “Lead on.”

 They began to walk, just enough for the shot; Leo stumbled. Caught himself, bound hands lingering against a chunk of ship for support, for an instant. “Sorry, just a rock, terribly treacherous, aren’t they?”

 “You’d know about treacherous,” said the hero, quiet and frustrated and not knowing anything of what had happened moments ago; and he caught Leo’s shoulder. “Come on.”

 They took a few more steps. And cut there.

 Sam sagged into his chair, worn out by emotion. And he was only watching. Christ.

 They did it all again, and again. Four times. Five. Leo was brilliant every time: dry and clever with dialogue, and silently profoundly compassionate, in a complicated and selfish way, when kneeling beside his adversary. Transferring the injury, letting himself bleed for the man he loved and battled and hated and was drawn to; and saying nothing about it, knowing they’d all believe he simply didn’t want to lift a finger.

 Six times, and they were done; they’d have a bit of a break while moving to the next location, the corner of a fortress in black rock and whipping winds. Leo wriggled hands out of prop binders, waved at cast-mates, and ran over to Sam. “What’d you think?”

 “I think you’re amazing.” He caught both of Leo’s hands, laughing; he leaned into the kiss. “So much emotion. Your expression—I mean, wow.”

 Leo’s whole face brightened. He loved compliments, and rarely believed them, Sam knew: a hell of a lot of self-doubt hid under on-set pranks and kitten-adoption events. “It worked, then? I did think it went well, but then again I never feel like I know for sure. And it’s been some time since my last appearance. I was worried about getting back into the rhythm.”

 “I felt it all. And I’m not even caught up with the show.” Sam glanced at Leo’s fingers, at a smudge of fake blood. Some of it had soaked through his shirt, and the coat. “It felt…real.”

 And for a second, a split second, it did. He knew it wasn’t—he knew—but he’d said it aloud, and he could see the red, and he’d just watched Leo stumble and trip and stagger with pain, and it’d looked so…

 “Oh, Sam.” Leo’s hands tightened around his, grip made of fingerless gloves and affection. “Thank you for the lovely praise, and I shall try not to let it feed my ego? What does one feed an ego? Is it like an eagle? Sort of carnivorous, and rather dangerous? I expect it could be, if one pushes the metaphor. Would you like tea?”

 Sam, who knew exactly how Leo’s brain worked by now—the steps might not be obvious but made perfect sense, from bashful deflection to silly word-association to surprisingly insightful philosophy to making sure other people were taken care of and well-fed, both in terms of comfort and tea—said, “I love you, you know.” He did.

 “I love you, and I love it when you say nice things to me.” Leo batted eyes at him, long-lashed and weightless. That was a joke, one that covered up absolute sincerity. “I’m glad I managed to make it believable. I’m obviously not at all presently being skewered by a spaceship section, not even a magically transferred invisible one, so it’s a bit difficult to act, in that sense.”

 “Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m glad you’re not being skewered.” He held Leo’s hand; they wandered toward craft services and a tea break, over scattered rocks, through slicing wind. Sam’s own coat was cozy and thick; he nearly asked whether Leo wanted it. That outfit couldn’t be very warm.

 A personal assistant ran up. Thrust a blanket, large and woolly, Leo’s way. Leo took it and managed to transform it into a swooping fashion statement, a bundle of plaid and protection, and thanked her as she bounced off to continue blanket-deliveries elsewhere. Sam relaxed a little more.

 Leo said, watching his face, “They do keep us warm, you know.”

 “I know.”

 “Are you having thoughts about ways we might warm up back at the hotel? Scented oils in a bathtub? A massage? Fabulous sex while I give you a massage in the bathtub with scented oils?”

 A passing pair of extras, dressed for guard duty at the planetary fortress, froze mid-step and turned wide eyes Leo’s direction. Leo put up a hand and wiggled fingers, a wave. “I’ll see you in a few moments, and you can menace me with those laser spears! Looking forward to it!”

 The taller extra opened his mouth, closed it, and managed, “Us too!” Leo beamed, saluted them, and kept walking.

 “You’re not actually going to die, though,” Sam said. Leo’s fingers were still too cold, in his. He despised the invention of fingerless gloves. “I mean, on the show. They love bringing you back. Though—are you allowed to tell me? Don’t, if you’ll get in trouble.”

 “You and I are such different people,” Leo said cheerfully, and stopped walking just to kiss him. “I love spoilers. I love knowing everything. Especially when no one else knows. But, sadly, it’s not a secret, at least not here on set. No, I’m decidedly not going to die. He’ll choose to let me go. So I can show up again later on. Everybody lives. It’s marvelous.”

 “I like that,” Sam said. “Everybody lives. It’s a good ending.”

 “Even the villain of the story,” Leo said. “Yes.”

 “You’re not the villain. Antagonist, yeah. Anti-hero. But not a villain.”

 “Really?”

 “You save people. Yeah, it’s what you want too, it’s because you need him alive, you’re obsessed, all that. But you still save him, and then you help him, because you know he won’t leave his crew behind, and you want him to be…not happy, exactly, but…out there. Free. For you to find again. So, yeah. Not a villain.”

 “Yes,” Leo said, “yes. That’s what I—thank you. For that.” His eyes were green and brown and pleased as spring.

 “I get to give you a massage later,” Sam said. “And warm you up. You know. While you recover from magically transferred skewerings.” I love you, he meant. I want you warm and happy, underneath me, on top of me, whichever you want, as long as you’re here and laughing and probably making terrible jokes about the size of someone’s laser spear, in bed. I’ll make tea after, if you want. That blend that reminds you of home.

 “All of that sounds splendid,” Leo agreed, clutching a fold of blanket as it started to slip, other hand still in Sam’s. The wind tugged at his hair, ruffling dramatically spiked blond strands. “You know how much I love your hands on me. All over. Every…inch of me.”

 Sam had to grin. Leo Whyte, he thought again. His Leo. Finding a way for Sam to fuss over him, guessing Sam might need to affirm that every last bit of red was only fake, just in case, just to know; and then flipping it all into a sex joke. Ridiculous. Adorable. Perfect.

 He said, “Sounds like a plan, then. I love all your inches.”

[davidthetraveler]

David’s Fic-Rec Friday:  2020/05/01

Hey guys.  Sorry about last week.  And sorry for being so late getting this out this week.  But considering what just dropped this afternoon... well...

Anyway, let’s get this going, shall we?

Silent Treatment by JayCKx (aka @rainbowhidgens)

Starting off, we’ve got a soft story about romantic Prinxiety.  Roman is in one of his particularly annoying attention seeking moods, and he’s been bothering his boyfriend all day.  Finally having had enough, Virgil opts to give him the silent treatment, feigning ignorance and opting to read a book in his room.  But when Roman opts to simply lay in Virgil’s lap and quips that he can work with silence, the two find themselves in a sweet and peaceful time together, and what could be more happy for the loving couple.  Romantic Prinxiety with a hefty helping of domestic bliss, my one weakness.  But at least I’m going down grinning.

Jam Buddies by Bit0Mess (aka @bit0mess)

Another nice and soft story, this one featuring some Logince that could be interpreted either romantically or platonically.  Roman and Logan are enjoying a nice day outside, and Roman is rocking out to that classic Steven Universe song about Jam Buds.  And Logan, who has been forced to watch the show three times over thanks to Roman, is all too happy to join in with some humorous antics.  All in all, it’s a wonderful day for the happy companions, and certainly great for putting a smile on your face.

Drifting by MagpieMorality (aka @magpiemorality)

A short but sweet ficlet focusing on platonic Virgil and Logan.  Virgil is drifting lazily in a lagoon in the imagination, enjoying the peace and serenity.  At least until the other sides dive in, but even that’s not enough to spoil his day as Logan grabs hold of his float and the two of them drift lazily on this pleasant day.  Short but soothing in the best way possible, this one is definitely worth a quick peek.

Thanksgiving by JayCKx (the same as the first one)

Another short piece recently rediscovered by the author, this one centered around the American holiday all about food and family.  While Thomas is at his family’s place for Thanksgiving, the sides too are preparing for the traditional meal.  And after noticing his absense, Morality heads off to get Anxiety to join them, and he won’t take no for an answer.  And after all the shenanigans that could only be described as a traditional Thanksgiving family episode, Anxiety is quite pleased to have been invited.  Another short but sweet relic of a bygone era in the Sanders Sides Famderdom, this one too is definitely worth a revisit.

I’ve Been Sane Too Long by mediocrityatbest (aka @mediocrity-at-best)

A rather angsty entry next, this one featuring some platonic Logince.  Roman is rather frustrated to have been summoned out to a field at three in the morning by his friend Logan, especially in all the cold and snow.  But what he finds is his friend nearly freezing, both literally and figuratively as the weight of his upcoming midterms weighs on his mind.  But Roman manages to talk him down from his spiral, and convinces him to head back to the dorm for some warmth and comfort with a side of fatherly lecture from their paternal compatriot.  A rather appropriate fic for everyone dealing with the complicated schooling issues of this time, and an excellent reminder to listen to your friends, especially when all they want to do is help you.

You are My Heaven by B_R_Storm (aka @thepanfanwriter)

Ending things off this week with a somewhat bittersweet Royality fic, which in retrospect is a strangely apropos choice.  Roman is concerned when his usually pure sunshine partner Patton asks to watch the rain with him.  And after taking in the pouring precipitation, Patton admits he’s not feeling very worthy of love.  To which Roman provides the comfort and assurance he needs to, if not immediately feel better, at least know that he’ll always have someone on his side as he continues to grow and deal with his own shortcomings and insecurities.  An angsty yet ultimately sweet tale that hits just close enough to home to move this reader to sympathetic tears.

*****

And this week’s Featured Fic Writer is:

AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate (aka @magicallygrimmwiccan)

A prolific writer, with nearly eighty Sanders Sides stories published as of this posting, including a few that have been featured on previous editions of the project.  This guy is certainly worth a look-see.

*****

Well, that about wraps it up for this week.  Let’s give these stories and their authors some well deserved praise, including some kudos, some comments, and even a bookmark or two.

And remember, I am always open to suggestions for things to feature on these posts, including authors and fics.

Also, if you’d like to know more about the Fic-Rec Friday Project, or see previous weeks’ suggestions, you can find all that on my Fic-Rec Friday Masterpost.

And of course if you’d like to be added to the Fic-Rec Friday Tag List, or if you’re on the list and would like to be removed, just let me know and I’ll take care of it.

Until next week guys, be safe, and happy reading!

General Tag List:

@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @panicattheeverywheremcr

Fic-Rec Friday Tag List:

@kunnuglegur-tortimandi @max-is-tired @creativity-killed-thekitten @the-fangirl-sunstorm @stoicpanther @averykedavra

[quirkfics]

march ficlet fest!

Today is the ficlet fest for March, and thus: FICLET FEST IS A YEAR OLD!! If I don’t break 100k words for ficlets after today, I will be horribly surprised.  And the theme for today is:

Soul Mate AUs! ie: soul mate alternate universe - an AU that revolves around the setting of everyone having a One True Love, or Two true loves (as I will write poly ficlets!) 

What does this mean for you? I will be accepting any BNHA character that your heart desires~ Anime? Manga? I’m up to date and I cannot wait. (Except for the movie!!! I haven’t seen the most recent movie </3 ) My usual rules apply! All characters, if they aren’t already, are portrayed as 18+, and I won’t be writing for characters like the Nomu, who cannot consent. And I’m really uncomfortable with Moonfish, please don’t send him in. If you decide to send in polyships, then the characters must both be of a similar age! (ie. I won’t be writing All Might x Reader x Deku etc)

What kind of prompts, besides character-choice, am I talking? I have a list! Below you will find a list of 25 words! Choose a number or word from the list, a character (or two! 👀), and send them on in! I will be accepting them starting at 9 AM PST!! I also don’t mind mild add ons, such as fluff, lemon or angst, but I won’t guarantee those! Sometimes I read the prompt and write too gosh dang fast, but I’m not trying to purposely do so, dangit.

Because this is the last ficlet fest before I take a ficlet break, I am not staggering asks. The askbox will be open until 11 PM PST! I most definitely won’t be answering them all in one day, but for the sake of my fingers, please remember: Don’t spam! If there are repeat asks for the same character + prompt, I will delete them (as in, say two people send in ‘red string of fate’ + midoriya, I will answer one of those and delete the other. You’re still free to send in midoriya + another prompt!) I will close the askbox at 11 PM PST, and that means the ficlet fest will be over, I won’t be taking any more asks, but I will be finishing the ones I have.

If I haven’t responded, it’s likely I needed a break or food, or possibly I’m having a stuck moment! (I’ll get to it, I promise.) If you have a question, if you think your ask might not have gone through, I’ll be happy to let you know whether it did, but again, please don’t spam, I promise I’m not ignoring you. Remember my rules, and have fun! I’m looking forward to writing for you! 💖 And now, the list!

Red String of Fate

Number Countdown

First Words

Last Words

Ink Exchange

Seeing In Color

Aging Pause

Compass Tattoo

Trading Eyes

Sharing Scars

Pain Transfer

Past lives

Telepathic Connection

First Touch

Meeting in Dreams

Tally Marks

Glow Response

Puzzle Pieces

Power Up

Emotional Connection

Body Swap

Reflection

Magnetic

No Lying

Constant Noise

[lyricfulloflight]

Rumour Has It: Part 2

A modern Cherik AU, powered, university setting.

If you haven’t read part one, here is a link:

https://lyricfulloflight.tumblr.com/post/188224206227/rumour-has-it

Tagging @gold-from-straw because she kindly asked to be tagged if I kept going.  If anyone else wants to be tagged for future additions, let me know!

I will be focusing on my long WIP for the next little bit, so I don’t expect to update this ficlet series for at least a week - fair warning.

Rumour Has It - Part 2

Erik sat in his seat and groaned.  He could not believe that Professor Garcia was going torture them this way.  Group work.  How could he do this?  Erik had actually been enjoying this class until two minutes ago.  Professor Garcia wasn’t a mutant, but he was married to one and had a mutant child, so he was very much aware of the struggles of mutants in society and was relatively sensitive in how he approached the topics covered in class.  He also openly encouraged debate, which made class lively and far more interesting than it would have been in a traditional lecture format.  But this, this was cruel.

“I am assigning everyone a random partner.  And yes, before you all jump down my throat, the selections were totally random, I used a computer program.  Your pairings are final.  You will not change partners, I don’t care how much to plead with me about it.  You will work on this assignment – together – for the rest of the year.  It accounts for thirty percent of your grade, so this is not to be taken lightly.  The list of pairings is right here -” Professor Garcia held up one sheet of paper, “and I will post it up front at the end of this class. Now, let’s talk about the Identification Act of 1985...”

Erik spent the rest of the class half listening to the professor and half absorbed in glancing around to look at all his classmates to try and figure out who would be the worst person to be paired up with. There were half a dozen humans in the class who had apparently signed up just to give speeches about how dangerous mutants were and how identification and separation was “essential for national security”.  Erik wasn’t sure he could work on an assignment with one of them without it leading to him punching one of them in their smug human face. Otherwise, Erik figured one classmate was pretty much the same as any other. Regardless of who he was paired with, Erik refused to let this stupid group project bring down his grade point average.

The class ended with a rush of students clamoring to the front of the class to get a look at the list of student pairings.  Erik sat at his spot and slowly loaded his notes into his backpack.  There wasn’t any reason to rush – the list would still be there in five minutes when the crowd cleared, or his partner would find him before he even had to get up and look.

With his head bent over zipping up his bag, the first thing Erik heard was someone clearing their throat.

“Hello.  I believe we’re partners.” Said a crisp British voice.

Erik leaned back slowly, something like dread curling in his stomach.  He looked up at the man in front of him and found himself looking into the impossibly blue eyes of one Charles Xavier.

“You are Erik Lehnsherr, yes?”

“Yeah.”  Erik spoke, determined to react normally – surely it couldn’t that bad to have been paired up with the most promiscuous man on campus. “That’s me.”

“I’m Charles, Charles Xavier.”

Charles held out his hand and Erik found himself reaching out, and having his hand grasped in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I think it best if we meet to talk about the assignment as soon as possible.” Charles continued. “I have to admit my schedule is quite full and it may be difficult for me to arrange time to meet with you if we don’t plan ahead.”

Erik bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making some sort of snarky comment about Charles ‘schedule’, which the majority of the university seemed to think involved enough sex for about three healthy young men, and instead nodded in agreement.

“I don’t have class until later this afternoon.  We could go to the library now and sort something out, maybe pick our first topic from the list Garcia gave out?” Erik suggested.

“Excellent.  I have about an hour before my next commitment.”

Erik found himself walking about a step behind Charles as they exited the classroom. Xavier was a startling fast walker and even though Erik had a good five inches on him at least, he found he had to consciously keep himself from falling behind the shorter man.

He was so focused on lengthening his stride to keep up with Charles, he almost ran right into him when the other man stopped abruptly only a few meters outside the humanities building.

“Found a new fuck, have we Charlie?” Sebastian Shaw’s voice dripped with contempt.

“If you’ll excuse us Sebastian, we were headed to the library.”  Charles said blandly, head held high.

“You know he’ll have sex with anything that breathes, right Lehnsherr? If you want to join his pussy footed little Mutant Human Alliance, you don’t have to sleep with him, even though everyone knows he’s slept with the entire group.”

Erik glared at Sebastian but said nothing – there was nothing to say to his baseless accusations.

“Fine.” Sebastian shrugged. “Just wrap it up – who’s know what diseases Charlie has by now.”

Sebastian cackled as he walked away, waving his fingers in a jaunty fashion as if he was saying goodbye to a couple friends, not two people he’d just insulted.

Charles didn’t spare a second to look back at Sebastian, he simply soldiered on and Erik followed him in silence until they found an empty study room at the library.

“Does he do that a lot?”  Erik asked.

“Hmm, what?” Charles frowned, apparently confused by Erik’s question.

“Shaw – does he go around saying shit about you all the time?”

“Oh, that.” Charles waved a hand dismissively. “Sebastian doesn’t like the fact that I run a Mutant Human Alliance – it clashes far too much with his ‘Brotherhood’ and their belief in mutant superiority. He likes to try to get back at me with petty insults.”

“He’s an asshole.” Erik grumbled. “And his ‘Brotherhood’ is practically a terrorist organization – their blog has a list of all the human politicians they’d like to ‘eliminate’.”

“I’m aware.” Charles sighed. “I feel the less attention I give Sebastian and his efforts, the better. Now, the assignment – was there a particular piece of legislation you wanted to look into first?”

Erik let his desire to dig into Sebastian’s insults about Charles’ sex life drop.  It wasn’t really any of his business.

Working with Charles was nothing like Erik had thought it might be.  Charles did not flirt – he didn’t so much as bat his eyelashes.  He was completely professional and focused the entire hour they’d spent in the library.  

It only took about five minutes for it to become clear that Charles was incredibly intelligent and well versed in mutant legislation.  He also wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions, or disagree with Erik.  They both agreed they wanted to pick the broad topic of ‘Mutant Identification and Suppression in the Education System’, but spent a good fifteen minutes arguing over which specific piece of legislation to analyze first.

Erik was impressed.  A lot of people, well most people actually, backed down in the face of Erik’s tirades, but not Charles.  In fact, he hadn’t missed a beat – he was ready with a calm rebuttal to every argument Erik offered. Erik finally, after much back and forth with Charles, compromised by agreeing to start with Charles’ top choice (the Dangerous Mutant Identification Act of 1999), but only after Charles explicitly agreed to end with Erik’s top choice (the Mutant Segregation Bill of 1961).

The meeting ended with a quick check of their schedules and a plan to meet every Tuesday for a brief face to face chat after class and to have a longer collaborative work session every Saturday morning.

Erik walked home feeling unexpectedly happy about the whole thing.  It seemed that working with Charles was going to be fine, even if he was nothing at all like Erik had expected.

One might think a man described as the biggest slut on campus would look a certain way. Sean had asked if Xavier was pretty and… he was so much more than that, and yet also, strangely less.  Today, he’d been wearing an oversized knit sweater, the type you might see a fisherman wear to keep out the cold, paired with rather ill-fitting corduroy pants. The entire ensemble did absolutely nothing to highlight Charles’ body; clearly he had a body somewhere under all that fabric, but Erik couldn’t have told you if he was thin, muscular, pudgy, or somewhere in between.  Despite his complete lack of fashion sense, Xavier’s face more than made up for his clothing choices.  His face… his face was achingly handsome.  It wasn’t quite pretty, not with its slightly too large nose and the freckles, but it was somehow better because of its flaws.

No, Charles Xavier wasn’t pretty.  But damn if Erik was going to tell Sean that Charles’ eyes practically glowed when he was talking about something that got him excited, or that his lips looked just as impossibly red up close as they did from across the room, or that he cheeks flushed an enchanting shade of pink when Erik had teased him about how many books he’d had stuff in his book bag.  Erik wasn’t going to share any of that with Sean.  Sean’s head would probably explode from excitement from the knowledge that Erik had been within five feet of the infamous Charles Xavier.

No, Erik thought, he’d just keep his newfound knowledge of Charles to himself. No need to add fuel to the already raging inferno that was the Charles Xavier rumour mill.  How difficult could it possibly be to keep one little secret from his freshmen roommate?