#super secret fic

[navybrat817]

navy!!! imagine this with possessive soft!dark!mafia!bucky or soft!dark!king!bucky 😭🤌🏻✨

him refusing to let go of her, even when the doctor came to treat her. he can't let go of her, not when she took a bullet/arrow for him. though he already curated 101 ways torture the culprit but for now, his sweet girl needs him.

(or rather he needs her. he needs to feel her heartbeat against his own because he can't afford to lose the love of his life.)

like please--

anyway! i hope you have a good day ahead 🩵🤍

My lovely, I ADORE this. The hurt/comfort, yes. Give it to me.

@targaryenvampireslayer and I are working on something and this fits PERFECTLY with this atmosphere. Stay tuned!!!

Love and thanks! ❤️

[stevebabey]

you're the only one for me, baby

1.7k, steddie, one of them getting so drunk that they don't recognise the other and telling them back off i've already got a boyfriend, it's all sweetness <3 likely a modern!au and actually just goobers in love

Eddie doesn't really drink. He's not against partying but he's much more attuned to smoking a little weed to take the edge off, sometimes a spliff if he wants to mix a little business and pleasure.

Eddie doesn't really drink—so when he does, it goes about as well as expected.

From zero to a hundred.

Steve had lost track of him after directing his stumbling feet towards the bathroom to take a leak. But apparently, as he's now found out, this bathroom has two doors.

What the fuck kind of bathroom has two doors, like some weird thoroughfare?

Regardless, it took all of five minutes with no noises coming from the inside before Steve had loudly announced he was coming in, no matter what, getting quite worried for his boyfriend.

He trusted Eddie to not be too sloshed to handle a piss, even if he was on the wilder side tonight, but still leaned up against the door to chase off anyone else looking to knock—because Eddie hilariously gets pee-shy.

The door had opened easily, apparently unlocked, and Steve had stepped into the empty bathroom. The other door across the room, the one he hadn't noticed until now, was wide open to the party.

So, now he's on the hunt for Eddie.

Which is a task that feels a little bit like herding cats because drunk Eddie isn't something Steve has a lot of experience with. But what he does know, is this: it's the opposite of high Eddie.

Stoned, Eddie likes to find the comfiest place he can (usually Steve's lap, or so he proclaims) and sink into it, like melting wax. Then, given he has access to adequate snacks, he doesn't move for quite some time.

Drunken Eddie cannot even fathom the concept of sitting still.

Either way, looking where there's food is a good as a place to start as any.

Steve ambles out the strange two-doored bathroom and flips his head back and forth, trying to remember the direction of the kitchen. He hasn't been here before—one of Eddie's band connections—and Steve's still had a couple beers himself.

He shakes his head and takes a left, relieved when it leads to the stairs. Okay, he sort of knows where he's going now. They had only come upstairs to find the quieter bathroom for Eddie.

As Steve reaches the bottom of the stairs, a faint stir of irritation flashes through him. Eddie just left him behind? That wasn't that nice, even if he was incredibly drunk.

He can hear the din of people chattering just above the music and he follows it, leading him into the half-full kitchen, people dotted around. There's a few pizza boxes scattered around and Steve eyes each of them specifically, looking for the tell-tale wipe of Eddie's greasy fingers. No dice.

Steve wrinkles his nose, spinning around and double checking before he moves on.

If not by the food, then... where?

Steve takes a few steps forward into the living room, his heart beginning to sink and shrivel all at once. There was a miserable feeling attached to looking for his partners at a party, a wallowing and awful memory tied to the feeling.

Steve pushes a hand across his chest roughly, as if trying to shove the feeling away.

Eddie wasn't... her. Eddie wouldn't do that.

But the moment he's thought it, it's stuck in his head. Steve's feet begin to speed up, checking a little more carelessly as he starts to stick his head in different rooms, his hazel eyes jumping around. Not Eddie, not Eddie, not Eddie—so many people and none of them are Eddie.

Until—there. Steve spots a very familiar looking behind as it leans over the back of the couch, the owner of said-behind talking to someone sitting on the couch.

He blinks, just to be sure, but the details come into better focus. There's chains on his belt loops and when he shakes his head, Steve can see the curls he loves to bury his hands into.

Eddie.

Steve's relief pulls him forward, his feet almost stumbling, his mouth pulling into a relieved smile. He puts a hand out, fingers spread, across the leather-clad back.

"Eds," Steve says, relief colouring his voice.

Eddie swings up abruptly, pushing himself off the couch. When he turns, a bit of liquid sloshes out of the beer bottle he's holding.

"Heyyy," The words come out a bit slurred and when he finally stands straight, he doesn't look right at Steve. "Handsssss off the merchandise, buddy."

Steve chuckles, reaching out and plucking the bottle from his boyfriend's grasp. Eddie gawps, an adorable little hiccup interrupting his shocked expression.

"Hey," He says loudly, reaching forward for it fruitlessly as Steve pulls it out reach. "That's mine." Eddie whines.

"You've had more than enough, I think." Steve says. He steals just one gulp of it before he turns at puts it on a nearby table. When he turns back, Eddie is frowning at him, brows pulled together tightly and bottom lip jutting out.

"Listen—" Eddie leans forward, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. "I dunnowhoyouthinkyouare," The words come out in a one big jumble and Steve frowns.

What? Something sour claws into Steve's chest at the frosty greeting.

"Eddie," Steve says, his hazel eyes wide and worried as his gaze darts between Eddie's squinted face and swaying form.

Steve reaches out to put a hand on his waist, aiming to steady him, but Eddie sees it coming and widens his eyes comically. He swerves back to avoid it, his boots tilting dangerously on the wooden floors. If he was still holding his beer, Steve bets half of it would be on the floor by now.

"Wo-oah," Eddie exaggerates, waving a hand out and batting Steve's outstretched arm away. The rottenness in Steve's chest blooms, rancid and freezing. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"Ed—"

"I—" Eddie says, holding up his hand and waggling one finger at Steve, like he's a naughty schoolboy. His words still have that drunken slur to them.

"—already have a boyfriend, thank you very much. He's much too pretty to be throwing it away for the likes of you, you weasel of a man..." His ludicrous and nonsensical insult trails off under his breath as Eddie's attention is drawn away by a shout across the room.

As he watches Eddie drape himself back over the couch, the sourness between Steve's ribs shifts, transforming into something infinitely sweeter. He lets out a dazed laugh, a wild smile spreading on his face before he can smother it beneath his hand.

I'm dating a lunatic, Steve thinks happily.

He reaches out and steals Eddie's beer once more, taking another large swig before giving it another go.

This time, he sidles up beside Eddie who's engaged back in conversation with one of the guys on the couch, and just waits. It only takes a minute before the dude on the couch seems to realise who Steve's waiting for and he nudges Eddie, gesturing behind him.

Eddie, still bent over the back of the couch, twists only his head to look. This time, the recognition is immediate.

He springs up, pushing the couch forward an inch in his excitement and leaps forward, his hands clawing into Steve's shoulder with a fierce delight.

"Steeeeve," Eddie croons, crowding in close. His hands start moving, fingers searching like curious spiders, fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin of Steve's neck til he's squirming back, laughter betraying him.

"Stop it." He laughs. Steve arrests Eddie's wrists in his hand and Eddie cackles, using the pause to surge forward, kissing him square on the mouth.

Eddie tastes like the beer he's been drinking and Steve barely gets a moment to enjoy it before Eddie's pulling back, leaning forward so they're forehead to forehead.

"I was looking for you." Eddie says, his doe eyes wide. His pupils grow larger the longer he stares at Steve.

Steve grins. "Uh huh. Looking for me between the couch cushions, were you?"

Eddie rears back, his head flipping as he stares back at the couch and then back at Steve. "Nuh uh. I came out the bathroom and you were goooone."

That explains it. Eddie must have left out the other door — and then thought Steve had left him behind and gone hunting for him. Something else settles in Steve's chest, relieved.

"And—" Eddie hiccups. "—and some guy tried to- to freakin' flirt with me. Can you believeee?"

Steve's grin widens by a mile. "Is that so? What you'd tell him?"

"No, of course!" Eddie says, head pulled back as if he's appalled Steve would think otherwise. He shakes his hands out of Steve's grip and drops them, fumbling for a moment to get his fingers into Steve's belt loops.

When he does, he yanks Steve forward a tad too forcefully, their bodies colliding in a way that's more sore than sexy. Eddie continues on as if he doesn't notice. "Even if he was particularly tasty," He murmurs, his lips tracing the column of Steve's throat.

"I let him know, baby." Eddie all but purrs.

And perhaps if the competition Eddie was beating off was literally anyone other than himself, Steve would be right there with him.

Instead, he can't contain his snort of laughter. Eddie was perfect; he was a possessive and drunken dog, barking up the wrong damn tree. Steve loves him.

"You're laughing," Eddie states plainly, even as his doe eyes manage to grow even more round. Steve can't help it, it just makes him laugh more.

"Treason." Eddie declares. Then using the belt loops to keep Steve captive, he leans in and blows a raspberry on his neck.

Steve lets out an unattractive squawk, his laughter melting into Eddie's as he pushes his boyfriend's face away — to which Eddie simply lets himself go limp, his face cradled and held up solely by Steve's hands.

"Christ," Steve says between his laughs, shifting his hand to hold him more tenderly. Eddie smiles dopely, then puckers his lips and closes his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes, entirely too endeared. "Alright, c'mere," He gives in, leaning and kissing Eddie, short and sweet. When he pulls back, Eddie's eyes are open, starry and gazing up at him. He gives a dreamy sounding sigh. Steve's heart fizzles, like it's full of pop-rocks.

"Ready to go?"

"As long as it's with you, baby." Eddie says, sounding every bit like he means it.

[dukeofthomas]

Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.

[blorger]

“So?” Ron says, after five long minutes of Draco flipping through and studying each page. “Right,” Draco replies, handing the documents back to Ron and taking a deep, steeling breath. “You need to promise not to punch me.” “What?” “It’s just—” Draco swallows and tries again. “I’m going to sound like I’m making a rude comment. I know that I’ve a long history of this kind of thing, so I wanted to clarify ahead of time. I’m not trying to insult you.” “Okay,” Ron says, and Harry can’t decide who looks more uncomfortable. “This Lavender character—” and Harry misses the next few words, because it finally clicks. Ron is here to discuss his divorce, which Harry thinks is almost as unlikely as sabotaging his assignment. “You went to school with her for seven years!” Ron is saying. “Yes, yes. I was a dick.” Draco waves one hand in the air, looking a bit like the queen. “Ground well-trodden, Weasel. I’m a prick. I only cared about myself. Everyone else was beneath my notice.” Ron’s mouth is hanging open. It’s all Harry can do not to laugh. “So, this Lavender—” “Do you seriously not remember her—” Malfoy continues as if Ron hasn’t spoken. “From what I can gather from these documents, Ms Brown is a bit of a—” Draco pauses. “A what?” “You promise not to hit me?” Draco asks. “Just spit it out Malfoy!” “She’s a bit of a raging bitch.” “Wha—” “In my professional opinion.” “Of course,” Ron says, stunned.

from The Truth About Love by waterwings

[insomnya777]

hiiiii guys !!!!!!!! so me and @toximblee were cooking up some ideas ..... basically to all my author moots would u perhaps be down to do a little secret santa fic exchange 😄 super casual kinda thing we can make a little discord server have some fun with it ...... maybe ????? reply if ur interested ???????

[sincerely-sofie]

Ohhhh, Anon's perfect apple ask is now giving me blessed imagery of Dusknoir cutting apple slices into bunny shapes. Maybe for Opal, maybe for him to show off, either way.

The soft, the dexterity, the GENTLENESS after such a prolonged period of violence he had undergone. Opal called him her gramps for a reason, after all.

(Referencing this post)

Hey how does it feel to have given me a prompt that had me tearing up all throughout the process of drawing it because of how unbearably heartfelt and endearing it is?

[zukosdualdao]

to leave the sun behind

summary: the gaang is about to leave the sun warrior civilization after aang spends a few weeks learning there. katara has a goodbye to make. she really doesn't want it to be goodbye.

other notes: didn't come up in the fic itself but this is an au in which ozai never gave the stipulation that zuko could be un-banished if he captured the avatar, which is why he did not do All That. instead, iroh took him to the sun warriors. also, yes there is a work study joke in here. if atla can make jokes about not qualifying for vacation time then i can do this also! (i think i am much funnier than i am.)

It's their final night staying at the ruins of the Sun Warriors—not so ruined, as it turns out. They had planned to stay for longer, and Katara still thinks maybe they should—Aang has been training every day, with the warriors and with the dragons, but there's still so much more he could learn. With the comet still months away, though, Sokka had finally pointed out that there were people searching for them, and if they didn't want this secret, ancient civilization to be destroyed for real as Azula and company pursue the Avatar, then it’s time for them to leave.

There's a banquet being held in honor of their departure tonight. They pull out a large table of stone and set with golden and orange gems, and the rice and kimodo chicken is piled high atop it.

It's genuinely a lovely evening—she smiles as she watches Sokka and Aang try their best to pretend the spices aren't getting to them, and as Toph answers questions about badgermoles from Iroh—but Katara can't help but notice someone missing and ducks out a little early, making an excuse out of an imaginary headache.

Really, though, Katara is making her way to a familiar room of stone, preparing to say a final goodbye to the Sun Warriors' apprentice.

When she and the others first arrived, it was him that found them stranded after Aang first set off a floor of spikes and looked back at the rest of their group with alarm.

The apprentice had looked at them with an unimpressed, quirked brow but didn't seem otherwise perturbed, reversing the trap and leading them to the warriors and to his uncle. From there, Aang had been judged worthy to study under the dragons and the warriors themselves.

Zuko trains with them, too, every day, diligent. All these weeks, he'd barely said three words in front of the others, but the second night, unable to sleep, Katara had stumbled across him late in the evening, practicing on his own. When he'd spotted Katara, she had reeled back at first—he seemed like too much of a loner to want company—but he'd raised his brow again, like a challenge. They'd spent the evening sparring with their respective elements, water meeting fire blow for blow, the blood in her veins soaring as they did.

After, they'd spoken until the sun was nearly risen. She'd regaled him with the stories of her travels, and he was mostly quiet, still, but when she asked questions, he answered.

Yes, he and his uncle used to be royalty, and his father was the Fire Lord as the Warriors said. No, he didn't leave home because he wanted to; he was banished. No, he no longer wanted to go back. No, he didn't want to talk about it. Yes, he'd been training with the Warriors for years.

Katara didn't ask about the scar, but her thumb ran gentle circles over it when she first kissed him.

Things have gone on like that for a handful of weeks they've been here, sparring and learning new moves from each other, talking, and kissing, sneaking away moments in the dead of night or when the others are distracted.

And now...

"I'm going to miss you," she sighs against his lips after he lets her in. His eyelashes flutter open.

"Don't say that," Zuko says wryly. "You'll give me the wrong idea." He leans back down.

"Maybe it isn't so wrong," Katara says, a little breathless as he kisses down her neck. "You could come with us, you know." She pauses. Wait. That's brilliant. Then, Aang could keep learning, and it wouldn't feel like half her soul was being torn in half as she left. (How did things happen this quickly? How does it feel like she aches wherever and whenever he's not touching her?) "You should come with us!"

Zuko freezes, looking into her eyes searchingly.

"What? Why?"

"I'm serious," Katara insists, placing her hands against his chest. Maybe he doesn't want that. "Aang's learned a lot while he's been here, training with you and the other sun warriors," she adds, feeling a little pathetic even as she hopes the argument convinces him. Zuko now looks unsure and rigid.

"I'm not a teacher," Zuko insists, his voice sounding sort of hollow. "I'm not even officially a Sun Warrior yet."

"Oh, you are in everything but name; all the elders say it," she points out. "You're just not old enough yet. You'll be of age soon, and then you will be." Katara purses her lips as he takes in her words. "Maybe this will help. You know. Hands-on experience. Like a work-study?"

Zuko laughs, some of the tension bleeding out of his gaze as he does. The sound of it is light and breathy and lovely. Katara likes that she can make him laugh. She's only ever seen his uncle accomplish it, otherwise.

"You can teach Aang," Katara promises. "You're better than you know."

His eyes don't quite meet hers, but they haven't let go of each other's embrace. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"Zuko?" She uses her fingertips to tilt his chin up, though he still avoids her gaze. "I mean it."

His eyes swim with an emotion she can't name. Katara waits for his answer, hopefully seeming more patient and less desperate than she feels.

"I'll come," Zuko says finally, the words wrapping around her like a promise. "I'll teach the Avatar. If that's... if that's what you want."

She sighs. Oh. He thinks that's all she wants. That's easily solved, then.

Katara leans her forehead against his. Time dwindles down. It is just them in here. "I want you with me," she admits as his hands tighten ever so slightly against her waist. "That's what I want."

Zuko captures her mouth in a long, gentle kiss before pressing their foreheads together again.

"I'll go wherever you are."

[mochiwrites]

guys I miss scarian

[cicaklah]

taking a moment to revel in the fact I completed my super secret writing challenge a day early, on this, the year I did not die of sepsis. stay tuned for the reveal!!! I love you all.

[this-acuteneurosis]

Anger

There's a plan. It's imperfect, but it's the best they've got.

Now they just have to hope no one ruins it for them.

[shrekgogurt]

Hey y'all! In August I started two jobs and I've been so busy I haven't been bored enough to daydream about fic let alone write it. One of the jobs is a long term substitute position. I do not have a teaching degree. I do not know what I am doing. It is very stressful. These kids are just staring at me every morning and I have to be the one to like...have things for them to do. And so I just "yes and" riff about some worksheets best I can and hope they pass their state tests come April. Like, I'm really just some guy off the street they hired last minute. It's so bad.

However, I have a lil something I wrote before all that sooooooooo...

Simon POV, past (age 15):

Balanced footsteps approach, clicking in even purposeful tones that threaten Baz, Baz, Baz. His shadow appears first. Long and lean. Dark and brooding. Mocking me as it flickers against the walls because even the mere imitation of Baz swarms with condescension. A few steps above me, always looking down.

Thank you to everyone who has been tagging me. I'm sorry I've been so ass at interacting with your posts.

Fuck it I'm just putting down some names dude. @alexalexinii @arthurkko @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla

@emeryhall @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ic3-que3n @ineffable-grimm-pitch @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @messofthejess @mitranian @mooncello @monbons @nausikaaa @ninemagicks @nightimedreamersworld @noblecorgi @onepintobean @orange-peony @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @urban-sith @umdiasujo @valeffelees @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[hwaslayer]

For your consideration: the Professors Choi™️ in college vs now 🥵

(Idk if they actually knew each other in college I'm just assuming they did lmao)

GIRLLLLLLLLL

im fucking sitting here at my desk blushing sooo HAWRDDDD I WANNA WALK INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC DMKDKSKSKwjkwkw!!!!! this is SO PERFECT 😭😭😭

[beautifulhigh]

I was tagged by @welcometololaland and I actually have something to share! Keep the good vibes coming so that I get to keep going with this fic. So I'm celebrating with more than seven sentences.

Happy writer, don't care.

"I turned it down, I don't want to go to this stupid thing, but Gran made this huge announcement about how wonderful it will be to have all of her grandchildren at her grand-nephew's wedding and so now I'm being forced into being on show. Again. Moving here was supposed to stop this." "Is this the wedding next month?" "Yeah." "OK, we can do that. I can get Liv to take notes for me, she's the only one who's as meticulous as I am. I can submit my assignments online for that week." "Alex—" "No argument. If you have to go, if your gran is making a scene about this and forcing your hand?" Alex stood and offered his to Henry. "Well then she gets me too. We're a package deal now." "Alex," Henry said softly as he was helped to his feet. "I mean it, baby. She thinks she gets to control the narrative? Well, I have a long and proud tradition of fucking shit up." Henry laughed and pulled Alex into something that was somewhere between a hug and a slow dance. "We can go stand by the cake, freak everyone out," Alex offered. "You know what would really stick in her craw?" Henry said, pulling back to look at Alex, a glint in his eye. "You and me dancing a waltz with every other couple." "I have no idea how to waltz." "It's pretty easy, darling, just follow my lead." Alex laughed as Henry spun him around the open floor, the spaces that would be filled with furniture and things and made into a home for them.

Lola tagged everything (I think) but my little list...

@capseycartwright @strandnreyes @iboatedhere @kiwiana-writes

@goodways @nontoxic-writes @ YOU for the open tag

[marimeeko]

Pro Hero Katsuki and Midoriya Sensei fics where Katsuki is secretly working on funding Izuku's super suit are gonna be so 👌

[forgetmesunflower]

If It Was Always Going to End Like This

“Who was this Kryptonian?” Damian swallowed, entirely too aware of the nervous tell, but warm saliva continued to fill his mouth regardless. “I suspect–” The mirror provided no buffer. Talia’s gaze bit into his skin like acid. Damian could not bear it. He closed his eyes. “–it was Superman’s son.” From another Earth. A clone. A secret twin. It just couldn't be Jon. Because Jon was dead. ── Damian returned to the League of Assassins when he was fifteen, unable to bear his collapsing life in Gotham. When he is nineteen, he encounters a Kryptonian that looks exactly like his best friend—his best friend who has been missing, presumed dead for six years.

Super Sons Week Day 5: It Was Always You Mistaken identity | Secret identities/identity reveal "Oh, I know you." "How ironic it is that I feel the most alive when my heart skips a beat."

Rating: Teen Words: 8.1k, 1/1 Relationships: Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & League of Assassins Members

[rocksibblingsau]

I have such a good idea for where the Kpop Gang lives. Trolls World Tour environment concept artists and art directions please hear me out:

Lightstick city.