#you guys keep on dropping such great prompts into my inbox but this is like my 14th gifset since thursday so maybe i should cool it lmao

[vanmarkus]

9-1-1 • S7E06 // BUCK TELLS CHIMNEY IT'S HIS LAST NIGHT AS A FREE MAN, WHEN IT'S ACTUALLY HIS OWN LAST NIGHT AS THE "FREE" STRAIGHT GUY AT THE HOUSE AND HIS FIRST DAY AS A TRULY FREE, OUT QUEER MAN // ↳ for anonymous

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

See Me, I See You (m, cold)

I present unto you all: a fic that has nothing to do with the fic I promised weeks ago!!! (sorry) I got some GREAT prompts from that prompt list in my inbox and I used a bunch of them in this fic (mostly anons, but @sniction-fiction and @sneezycold19 both of your prompts are featured in this).

Greyson gets a cold, Elijah catches it...that's pretty much it! No real plot just colds and vibes. Oh, and there's a little bit of ~angst~ thrown in because it's me. I hope you guys enjoy it <3

cw: male, colds, contagion, fevers. 3k-ish words under the cut. Let me know what y'all think!

See Me, I See You

Greyson shifted from foot to foot in the cold of the alleyway, willing Elijah to text him back. He read the text over again for the third time, hoping it sounded nonchalant enough to avoid his boss’s wrath.

heyyy, are you on your way in?

It was already ten in the morning; normally, Elijah was already at the restaurant by now. Normally, his boss wasn’t given the chance to be aware of Greyson’s chronic key-losing issue.

Three minutes passed. His fingers were starting to tingle. Did you leave your gloves wherever you left your fuckin’ keys, moron? Four minutes. Five. C’mon, Elijah, I’m getting desperate.

Finally, at the six minute mark, a text from his boss popped up. I was planning on taking today off. Why, do you need something?

“Fuck,” Greyson muttered, pulling a frozen hand down his face. Of all days, why was today the one Elijah decided to take off?

There was, Greyson decided after a few more freezing minutes pacing the alleyway, nothing to do but tell the truth. Bracing himself for the explosion, Greyson typed out a message. uhhh...kinda. I may or may not have misplaced my keys…

By some sort of stroke of either insanely terrible timing or the worst luck known to man, the minute Greyson pressed the arrow to send his message, a second text from Elijah came through. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me, Greyson thought, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as he read the text from his boss.

I caught your fckn cold, so if you need something can it wait til tomorrow?

***

On Saturday, Greyson couldn’t stop sneezing.

“Hh-! HhIGSTHH-ue! HTSHH!” For the third time in an hour, Greyson wrenched into his elbow, away from the prep table. He groaned, annoyed – prepping this tasting menu for twenty was going to take ten times longer than normal if he couldn’t get this shit under control.

“Bless, bless,” Elijah said, distractedly leafing through the inventory papers on his clipboard. “Coming down with something?”

Greyson cleared his throat, pawed at his nose. Shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s Saturday. Not like I could leave if I wanted to.” The chef washed his hands in the sink near their office, sniffling. He trudged back to his prep, checked his watch – ten thirty AM. Matt was scheduled for noon, and Greyson could already taste the cigarette he was going to savor when his sous took over this prep.

“Mmm, snippy,” Elijah said, scribbling something on the inventory sheets. “Must be a pretty bad one.”

“The fuck are you on about?” Greyson asked, sinking his knife back into the yellowtail he was slicing. He sucked in through his nose, again, again, again to keep from contaminating the fish – on the third sniff, he ducked under the table to protect his product. “HGSTHHZUE! Fuck.”

“That cold,” Elijah said, finally looking up from his paperwork. “It must be pretty bad if you’re in such a shit mood.” Greyson’s face colored. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, flipped his boss the bird. Elijah just shrugged.

“Do you want a coffee? Or a tea, or something?” he asked, pushing himself out of his chair and approaching the chef. Greyson had gone back to thinly slicing the hamachi; he didn’t answer. “Hellooo, earth to Grey -”

“HTSHH! Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!” Greyson turned toward Elijah, sneezing into his elbow once more to avoid the fish. Elijah jumped out of the way just in time.

“Christ, warn a guy, won’t you?” he said, checking his outfit for signs of spray. Greyson cleared his throat, put his knife back on the prep table, and slunk to the office in search of a tissue.

“Get outta the splash zone if you don’t want to get wet,” he muttered, blowing his nose and tossing the tissue. “Ndo, I don’t want any coffee or tea. I just want to get this shit done so I can have a cigarette.” The chef washed his hands again, and took his place at the prep table once more. At this point, this won’t be done until next fuckin’ week, he thought, exhausted.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Elijah asked, leaning on the prep table. Greyson deadpanned his boss, hoping the knife in his hand made him look at least a little threatening.

“Do I think what is a good idea?”

“A cigarette.”

“I always think a cigarette is a good idea. Don’t you?”

Elijah shrugged again, eyes trained on the knife Greyson slid through the fish. “I mean, usually. When I’m not sick as hell, absolutely.” The two of them caught eyes then, a challenge. Their stares stayed locked until Greyson was forced to turn away to cough. Elijah made a noise in the back of his throat, a mix between a laugh and a coo of pity.

“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me,” Greyson growled, his voice sticky and rough already. The backs of his eyes burned, his throat felt swollen, and his joints were aching; he wasn’t ready to admit it, but Elijah’s perception was correct. He felt like shit.

“I’m not patronizing you, Chef,” Elijah promised, pulling something out of his back pocket. “C’mon. Take a break.” He waved the pack of cigarettes he’d produced in front of Greyson’s face, motioned toward the back door. “I’ll let you bum one.”

Greyson, too tired to continue the fight, just nodded. “Alright,” he said, untying his apron. “Thangks.”

Elijah took in a deep breath, ready to say something, but instead just sighed. “Don’t mention it.”

***

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Greyson thought as he re-read his boss’s text. If Greyson knew one thing about Elijah, it was this: he’d have to be down bad to take an unscheduled day off of work. And for him to admit to illness, unprompted? The man must have been on his death bed.

Quick as he could, Greyson began typing out a response.

ah, fuck, sorry boss. don’t worry about it, I’ll text matt. sorry to bother you, hope youre ok.

Greyson sent the text, only to be filled with dread all over again when Elijah answered back immediately.

I thought Matt and Mark were doing that off property event in rochester today?

Fucking shit, Greyson thought pressing his head to the freezing cold of the back kitchen door. His mind, mocking, flashed him back to last night; Matt and Mark packing up the company van with food for a Christmas dinner one of their regulars was hosting at his mansion in the country. Greyson had waved them goodbye, told Matt to call him if he had any questions on the dishes they’d decided he’d make. In his panic, Greyson must have blacked it out.

oh, he typed to his boss. yeah, I guess they are. no worries, im sure my keys are in my apartment ill just run back and grab them.

His apartment, both of them knew, was a forty minute train ride from the restaurant. Cooks would begin showing up in forty-five minutes. The pit in Greyson’s stomach grew larger still when the bubbles that signaled Elijah typing popped up and went away, popped up and went away.

Finally, the text they both knew was coming but ate Greyson alive even so: I can stop by and let you in. give me 20 minutes.

***

By Sunday, Greyson was fairly sure he was dying.

First, he was freezing; when he came in at the ass-crack of dawn that morning to prepare for Sunday brunch, Elijah had barely been able to stifle a laugh.

“Um,” his boss said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you, uh… wearing?”

Greyson flashed Elijah a watery glare before his eyes glazed over and he pitched forward into the scarf the was wrapped tightly around his neck. “Hh...hhIGTSZH-ue! ETSCHH-ue! Huh -! hh...hhNGSTHH-ue!” He sniffled and wiped his nose on the wool of the scarf before addressing his boss.

“A scarf,” he said, his voice a low monotone. “I’mb cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly, taking the chef in. His hood was pulled over his long, shaggy, unwashed blond waves; his eyes were red-rimmed, dark-circled, and wet with irritation; the bow under his nose was damp and scarlet from wiping, and none of this was to mention the scarf-turned-tissue that had clearly seen better days. “I think… I think you should go home, Chef,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Greyson didn’t answer; instead, he turned away to cough into the germ-infested scarf. After a few moments of coughing, her turned back and shook his head. “Brunch,” he rasped, attempting to clear his throat.

“Let’s call Matt in,” Elijah said.

“He’s workigg dinner,” Greyson insisted. Elijah pressed his fingers into his eyes, let out a long sigh.

“I think one day of working double shifts isn’t going to kill him,” Elijah said, giving Greyson a pointed look.

“I’mb ndot making my employees work a double shift whend I’m ndot,” Greyson said. “That’s ndot how I operate.”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, his temper beginning to flare, “you sound absolutely fucking awful. And you can barely stand. How do you plan on prepping and executing brunch when you’re swaying on your feet, hmm?”

There was a silence that stood between them then. It ballooned, filling the kitchen, begging one of them to break it. Finally, Greyson’s body took over; he shuddered, dipped back into his scarf and turned away from Elijah.

“Hh-ETSCHH-ue! HUTSHH-ue! Huh...Hh! Hh...hnnn.” Greyson glanced blearily at the cold fluorescent lights in the kitchen, trying to coax the last sneeze out. “Huh-! hnn...hh, huhhh…”

“For God’s sake, Greyson,” Elijah said, allowing the frustration to seep into his voice. “Would you just fucking snee -”

“HRRRTSHHH-ue!” The last one tore out of the chef, left him dazed and panting, turned into a flurry of wet coughs. Elijah winced, but took a few steps forward and placed a hand on Greyson’s forehead. Greyson didn’t have it in him to stop his boss.

“Wow,” Elijah said, raising his eyebrows as he gently pulled his hand away from Greyson’s head. “That’s some fever you’re sporting, kid.”

Greyson felt his eyes begin to water; he bit the inside of his cheek, looked away, and took in as deep a breath as he could without making himself cough again.

“Mbaybe… maybe we could call Mbatt in for brunch just this once.”

***

The twenty minute wait was excruciating.

To keep warm, and to distract himself, Greyson paced from one side of the alleyway to the other, trying to remember whether he’d noticed signs of Elijah getting sick the evening before. His boss was fairly talented at keeping illnesses under wraps in the beginning stages, but was there really a way he’d gone from fine enough to keep it under wraps to so ill he needed the day off in twelve hours? Greyson thought back to the end of last week, when he’d been hit head-on with the cold from hell his boss was now gifted with; it had moved quickly, sure, but definitely not that quickly.

Elijah had certainly been quiet last night, but that tended to be par for the course when they were busy. It had been extra busy, especially for a Tuesday, so Greyson hadn’t really seen much of Elijah. Guilt coursed through his body, and he pulled out his phone once again to text Matt and Mark in a group chat.

hey, guys. hope you’re ready for your event tonight, can’t wait to hear about it. random question for both of u: did elijah seem alright to you both last night?

The wait for a text back wasn’t long; the two younger managers were clearly bored. With several hours to go until their dinner and everything pre-prepped, they were most likely just hanging out on their phones in the spare bedroom they were staying in.

are you serious? Matt’s text came through first. Then, a moment after, one from Mark.

I mean...if by ‘alright’ you mean pissed off and sick then ya I guess lmao.

Greyson’s heartbeat thumped in his ears. He typed back quickly, pointedly. he was sick last night?

chef, u really had the blinders on big time last night lol, Matt texted back.

Which makes sense, it was busy! Mark’s text said, an attempt to cushion the blow. But ya he was for sure coming down with something. Is he ok today?

Before he could type out a response, Elijah’s car turned into the alleyway. Greyson put his phone away and waved, guilty. Time to face the music.

***

Monday, thankfully, was like a salve to Sunday’s burn.

“Morning, Chef,” Elijah said, joining Greyson in their shared office. Greyson pulled out one of his headphones to return the greeting, smiled at his boss.

“Mborning,” he said, his voice still cracked and congested.

“How’re you feeling?” Elijah asked, cutting straight to the chase. Greyson rolled his eyes, shrugged. Smiled a bit.

“Better,” he said, sheepishly. “Much better. Thangks for holding down the fort yesterday, I really owe you one.”

Elijah laughed as he clicked his mouse to wake his computer. “Chef, it’s technically my fort. It’s my job to hold it down.”

“Still.”

The GM nudged his friend, playful. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Glad you’re feeling better. I was worried you weren’t going to make it through the night.”

Greyson barked out a laugh that turned into a soupy-sounding cough. “You’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” he said. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mmm,” Elijah murmured. “That’s what we’re classifying as ‘not that bad’ now? That’s wild. Don’t show me ‘bad’, okay? I don’t think my little heart can handle it.”

Greyson flipped Elijah off at that, and turned back to his computer. The two of them sat, working silently except for the occasional riff or cough from Greyson, until it was time to get ready for service.

All was well. At least, that’s what Greyson thought.

***

“HhhNGSTH-uh! HTSHH-uhn! Hh...hhRTTSHH-oo!”

Ah, fuck, Greyson thought as he watched Elijah slip out of his car. I’m an ass.

***

On Tuesday, there were a myriad of clues Greyson didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice the Elijah slunk into the kitchen an hour later than he normally did; unheard of for him. The chef had been busy prepping when his boss made his way to their office and sunk into his chair, fingers pressed into his aching eye sockets.

“Morning, boss,” Mark said, stopping into the office. Elijah looked up, bleary, and Mark’s face shifted into one of concern. “You alright?”

“Greyson’s fuckin’ cold,” he muttered, coughing hard into his elbow. “It’s a fuckin’ bear.”

Mark put an easy hand on his boss’s forehead, his face knotted with anxiety. “Take anything?” he asked. Elijah shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “But I will. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t notice when Elijah ducked out back to have a drawn-out fit of sneezing; Greyson was inside, lecturing Matt and Mark on exactly how to put together the dinner they were going to be doing in Rochester the next day when his boss pushed outside into the cold of the alley. Elijah had managed to collect himself just as Greyson followed him out the back kitchen doors.

“Christ,” Greyson said shaking his head and sitting down on a milk crate next to his boss. “Sometimes, man. This job is like running a fuckin’ daycare.”

Elijah nodded, unsure of how his voice would sound if he spoke. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Greyson produced a pack of cigarettes.

“Bum one?” he asked Elijah, shaking two from the pack. “I owe you.”

“Sure,” Elijah said, his voice cracking on the single syllable. Greyson lit them both up, didn’t mention his boss’s voice. He took a long drag while Elijah ducked into his elbow.

“NTSH! GTSH! HTSH!” Elijah stifled a volley of sneezes into his shirt, sat up near-gasping. He turned toward Greyson, stared at his friend, waiting – what for, he wasn’t entirely sure. Pity? Sympathy? Acknowledgment?

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t get it. Greyson stubbed out his cigarette and stood without a word. “See you back in there, boss,” he said.

The un-smoked cigarette hung from Elijah’s fingers, burning bright in his hand. He sneezed once, uncovered, creating a cloud of condensation in front of his face. He stubbed the cigarette out, choked back a cough, and headed back inside.

Greyson didn’t even notice when, at nine PM, Elijah parked himself in their closed-off private dining room and laid his head down on the stripped table, cool marble on his overheated face.

“Lij? Boss?” Elijah heard the voice come in before he could sit himself upright. He turned blearily towards the door and saw Matt standing in the doorway, his face painted with concern.

“Shit, Lij, you look like fuckin’ hell,” Matt said, sitting next to Elijah. “I mean, Mark said you weren’t well but Jesus Christ.”

“’m okay,” Elijah shrugged, and turned away from Matt. “Huh! HhIGSTZH-oo! ITSHZH-uh!” He hitched in preparation of another sneeze, sighed when it escaped him.

“Bless you,” Matt said. “I came in to tell you that Greyson wanted your input on a dish he’s working on in the back, but I’ll tell him to fuck off. You need to go home.”

Wanted input on a dish. Elijah would have snorted if he was sure it wouldn’t have ended in a disaster of a mess; of course he wanted his input. The man was in the fucking clouds, apparently; too high to realize he’d left his best friend sunk in the muck that was this nightmare of a headcold.

“That would be great, Mbatt,” Elijah said, attempting a smile. “Thangk you.”

Greyson didn’t even notice, Elijah knew without knowing, that his boss had left without saying goodnight.

***

“Elijah, fuck, dude I’m so sorry for dragging you out here.”

The GM just shrugged, clearly too tired and ill to make a quip. He ran the sleeve of his NYU sweatshirt under his running nose and moved slowly towards the back door. The keys shook in his hand; it took what felt like an eon to open it.

Finally, the door swung open. “You’re in,” Elijah said, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you thingk you cand handle tondight on your own?”

“Yeah, of course, boss, but… shit. Lij, I’m so sorry dude. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you were sick, I mean -”

Elijah held up a hand to stop the chef’s babbling. “Grey,” he rasped, “it’s okay. We’ll call it you getti’g even at mbe for ndever ndoticing you were sick when you first started.”

“That was six years ago. You had an excuse, you didn’t even know me; I know you, I know when you’re sick, I feel like such an ass. I’ve been wracking my brain, pacing around back here trying to figure out how I didn’t realize -”

“HTSHH-oo! ETSCHHH-uh!” Elijah cut the chef off again, folded in half, his face in his sleeve. He sucked in through his nose, stood slowly.

“Bless,” Greyson said, guiltily.

“Thangks,” Elijah said. “And it’s okay. Ndo one is infallible.” He shivered, rubbed his arms with his hands. Greyson held the door open.

“Obviously if you don’t want to stay you don’t have to,” he said, “but… if you want to hang for a bit, I can make you some tea? Or soup? Make it up to you for coming out here because of my stupidity?”

Elijah attempted a scoff that ended in a cough. “Greyson. It’s really okay.”

“I feel badly,” Greyson admitted. They stood locked in that old game of chicken yet again. This time, it was Elijah that broke the spell.

“HRRRSHH-uhh! Goddamn,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at Greyson, forgiveness written on his pallid face. “Mbe too,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “This cold is a fuckin’ mbonster.”

Greyson laughed, an almost-hysterical sound that made palpable his relief at being forgiven. “Oh, Lij,” he said, closing the door behind them, “no one knows that better than me.”

[miraclewoozi]

hi everyone ! <3

i very recently hit the milestone of 500 followers on this blog! first and foremost, i want to say a super huge massive great big THANK YOU to everyone who has followed me here, and also to anyone who has ever interacted with one of my fics! i want you to know that genuinely, every like, every reblog, every ask and every single piece of feedback warms my heart so much. couldn't do this shit without you guys. second and... secondmost? (don't look at me like that) i wanted to try to give back some of that love and play around a little (especially with writing for members i've never written before) by doing a little event. SO... until my birthday on the 14th MARCH, i'm going to be be taking prompt requests! (t's + c's under the cut, please read them! i will delete any asks that don't follow these simple guidelines.)

EVENT RUNTIME —

exactly four weeks, from today! any asks sent with requests after THURSDAY 14th MARCH will be deleted!

HOW TO —

to send a request, just send me an ask containing both the member you're requesting for and a prompt from one of the following lists! fluff | smut | angst

PLEASE NOTE —

regardless of whether your request is for smut, fluff or angst, MY BLOG IS STRICTLY FOR PEOPLE 18+ ONLY. please respect this. minors, do not interact with me: you will get blocked.

if you can, try not to be too specific with your requests: ideally, member + prompt only. however, if you picked a fluff prompt but wanted it to be a smut piece, that's okay! just let me know. otherwise, keep it minimal.

i'm going to try to keep these relatively short (ie. no more than about 2.5k words each). don't hold me to that though. if something tickles my fancy it'll no doubt be more.

please be patient with me. i'm new to this. i may not (probably definitely won't) write these in order of receiving them. i might take some time to get to yours. i am not ignoring your ask! i'll likely even end up writing some of these after the event has ended. please don't come into my inbox asking where yours is because i might cry. thanks. <3

everything for this event will be tagged mw500party! do with that what you will.

i am not taking regular requests at this time! hard hours are always welcome (please come and drop your most unhinged thoughts in my inbox, i'll love u forever) but if you send a request that is not linked to a prompt as per this event, it will just get deleted.

if (strong on the 'if', i am 90% expecting this to flop and therefore for this post to self destruct in like 3 working days) i get overwhelmed with the number of these that get sent in, i may choose to close this up early. that's at my discretion. i'll try not to! and i'll let you know if that seems likely to happen.

and... that's it? i think! again, i really can't overstate how much it means to have you guys all here and supporting me. thank you, from the bottom of my silly little heart. i hope you'll stick around for wherever my brainworms take me from here on out. peace.<3

[saeyoungs-angel]

⨳​ writing event! — aot

rules. one request per person please! once the promt has been picked, it can't be picked again! requests can have up to three promts! must include a genre type if one is prefered! must include a character and prompt(s)! must read over my wills and won'ts before requesting, thank you!

characters. eren yeager, levi ackerman, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, hange zoe, annie leonhart, pieck finger

fic types. drabble(100 words), ramble(200-300 words), full fic(500 and up)

notes. hey there guys, long time no see! got a bit of my mojo back and decided to run an event celebrating the drop of the last episode. depending on what kind of request, there may be spoilers for people who haven't watched that far, please keep that in mind! with that said, if there's a second request you'd like to make, feel free to leave it in my inbox for when the event is over. :) have fun!

𓆩☆𓆪

1. “i don't think me being here is a good idea.”

2. “never leave my sight again.”

3. “be more careful next time, i don't wanna bandage you up again.”

4. “i like the way your hand fits in mine.”

5. “no like, it's just.. i can't believe you're wearing my clothes.”

6. “you're a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

7. “i can sleep when i'm dead.”

8. “that doesn't sound healthy.”

9. “oh god, is that.. blood?”

10. “you're doing great, don't look at it.”

11. “bite down on this, it's gonna hurt.”

12. “come here, let me fix it.”

13. “it's not heavy, i'm stronger than i look.”

14. “can i kiss you?”

15. “stop telling me you're okay.”

16. “don't talk to me, someone might think we're friends.”

17. “if it makes you feel better, you can slap me. lightly.”

18. “judge if you want, we're all going to die. i intend to deserve it.”

19. “i lied, you believed me. who's the stupid one?”

20. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

21. “i don't have time to feel guilty, and neither do you.”

22. “you're going to start drinking already?”

23. “might kill god just to feel something.”

24. “that's a bit dark, even for you.”

25. “i love when you talk like a dork.”

26. “why didn't you say goodbye?”

27. “it wasn't your fault.”

28. “i just need some time to myself.”

29. “i don't wanna lose you, too.”

30. “it's better this way.”

31. “don't make this harder than it already is.”

32. “stop pushing everyone away.”

33. “you haven't been yourself lately.”

34. “is s/he really just a friend?”

35. “you're making me think that what they told me about you was true.”

36. “not everyone is going to hurt you.”

37. “please don't misunderstand me.”

38. “can you just kiss me? one last time? that's all i ask.”

39. “i swear i'll do things differently this time.”

40. “i know i shouldn't be here.”

41. “i didn't mean to ruin your life.”

42. “i had a nightmare.”

43. “were you happier with him/her?”

44. “stop acting like you're happy, i know you're not.”

45. “do we like, hold hands now?”

46. “i didn't ever think we'd be here, like this.”

47. “can i trust you?”

48. “do you wanna watch the stars?”

49. “there's nothing i wouldn't do for you.”

50. “is there a reason you're blushing like that?”

𓆩☆𓆪

[lukoleoleole]

The votes are in!

Good Girls Appreciation Week 2022 will take place Sunday, August 7th through Saturday, August 13th.

WHAT IS IT?

Good Girls Appreciation Week 2022 is seven straight days of dedicated fans creating and sharing new content showing their love for the show. Each day of the week has a specific theme voted by fans to interpret as creatively as they like!

I don't know about you guys, but life has been more depressing than usual lately and Good Girls gives us an escape. Let's have some fun with this!!

WHAT ARE THE THEMED DAYS?

Y'all voted and here they are:

WHO PARTICIPATES?

Everybody! Creators create, and the larger fandom boosts those creations with likes and (especially!) reblogs to spread the joy.

It’s a great time for people that have thought about trying their hand at content creation to give it a go!

#GGAW2022

More details under the cut.

HOW DO I PARTICIPATE?

You can participate as much or as little as you like. If just one day speaks to you, create content based on that theme. Post it on the allotted day with the designated hashtag, and boom, you’ve participated!

Several people have already expressed interest in what kind of content they’d like to contribute, but there’s no official sign-up. You can lurk for a few days, get a feel for it, and then post, or you can start planning and creating now, waiting for the official week to post.

WHAT ARE THE RULES?

I know rules are lame but we have to make this thing a somewhat official thing somehow 😂. There are 6 important rules of #ggaw2022 so that we see a #GGAW2022 post when we see it:

Keep it positive! This means when you’re focusing on your love of A, B, or C, you avoid tearing down X, Y, and Z in the process.

Spread the love! Like the posts you see and encourage content creators, old and especially new! Hit that reblog button a little more often. The fandom benefits when we support each other and encourage newbies to try their hand at creating something. Let creators know what you think they’ve done especially well by leaving positive tags and/or dropping a note in their inbox!

Use the designated hashtag! Tag all posts #ggaw2022 so that anyone following the tag can see all the new content as its uploaded.

Use headings or captions! Try to use a heading or caption that alludes to which day you are posting for, e.g. “Day 2: Favorite Location - The Park.”

Post within your timezone! The days last a little longer here in Good Girls Land where time is fake and everyone counts on their fingers! Don't worry about calculating numbers—the day starts at 12:01 am and ends at 11:59 pm in whatever timezone you happen to be in.

Do your best! Try your best to post by the designated day, but remember: this is supposed to be fun. If you miss the designated day but are still really inspired to make or finish something for it, share it anyway!

WHAT TYPE OF CONTENT SHOULD WE SHARE?

Literally anything that makes you feel some sort of way. Gifsets, videos, photo manipulations & edits, moodboards, drabbles or short fics, imagines, metas, fanart, playlists, and whatever else you can think of! Wanna make a cross-stitch pattern and share it with the rest of us? Wanna make a list of GG-inspired recipes? Want to make a movie poster? Go for it!

WHAT ABOUT PROMPTS?

The survey showed me how many ideas y'all have for this so we'll try this! Submit them to my inbox (@peachraindrops) anon or not, whatever feels best, and I'll post them all in an inspiration post a week from today, July 20th, 2022 in an aggregated (and nameless!) list. The prompts will be used for creators to draw inspiration from and maybe even hit a few of your favorite things!

FINALLY:

We all want to see these themes the way you interpret them! Again, the more creative, the better. In the end, I just hope this brings a little bit of joy back into everyone's lives because that's what we need right now, right?!

& the final finally:

thanks to everyone for all of the excitement and participation, and even more finally to @foxmagpie for letting me rip most of this post from GGAW2021. I would have been lost trying to figure this out without something so detailed to go off lol.

Reblog to spread the word!

[storiesforallfandoms]

everything i’m insecure about ~ corpse husband

word count: 946

request?: no

description: in which the things his fans say become too much for her and she starts to believe them

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst (kinda?), insecurities

masterlist (one, two)

The Discord disconnect sound alerted everyone that someone had left the call, but it was the bright red letters reading “(Y/S/N) has left the game” that brought their laughing to a halt.

“Did (Y/N) leave?” Rae asked.

“Wifi might’ve dropped,” Jack responded.

“The wifi is working fine for me,” Corpse told them. “I don’t hear her moving in the other room.”

“Corpse, if you want to go check on her we’ll wait to start the lobby again,” Toast offered.

Corpse shook his head, forgetting that his friends couldn’t see them. “No, I’ll leave and come back in a bit. You guys can play without me.”

He left the Among Us game and placed his headphones aside. (Y/N) hadn’t come into his room yet, which was why Corpse thought she had merely disconnected by accident. If she had decided she was finished streaming, she would’ve told everyone and come over to join him in his room.

He walked to the guest bedroom where (Y/N) had her streaming set up. Instead of being sat at her computer like Corpse expected, (Y/N) was laid on her back on the guest bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could see something shiny on her cheeks, and realized they were also flushed - she was crying.

Noticing Corpse walk in, she quickly wiped her face and tried to smile. “Hey. Are you done streaming?”

“I wasn’t, but I may be now,” Corpse responded. “What happened, (Y/N)?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry, go back to your stream.”

Doing the exact opposite, Corpse crossed the room and laid next to (Y/N). He took her into his arms and rested her head on his chest. This was enough to finally break (Y/N) and she began to cry into Corpse’s chest.

Corpse smoothed her hair and allowed her to cry as she needed. He wasn’t going to push her to talk if she didn’t want to.

After some time, (Y/N)’s sobbing started to calm down and she spoke, “They hate me.”

“Who hates you?” Corpse asked.

“Your fans. They hate me. They’ve been spamming my social media and my chats with so much hate. I turned on subscribers only chat, but some of them even ended up subscribing to send me hate. I turned off my social media comments and replies and my inboxes, but they’re still getting to me somehow.”

“What do they say?”

(Y/N) hesitated. She already felt like she had said too much. She didn’t want to make Corpse upset with his fans. Obviously it wasn’t all of them giving her trouble, but it felt like the select few who were had made it their live mission to make her miserable.

“(Y/N),” Corpse prompted after a prolonged silence. “What are they saying?”

(Y/N) sighed and finally said, “They keep saying you should be with Rae instead of me. They post clips of you and Rae when you stream together and say you’re cuter together than we are, and that she’s better for you than I am.”

Corpse felt his anger rise at this. He didn’t mind the playful shipping his fans did - like Corpsekkuno - but when they took it too far like this he hated it. Especially now, seeing (Y/N) so upset over things that were just untrue.

“You know they’re wrong, right?” (Y/N) was silent. Corpse moved his head to try and see her face, but she moved to look away. “(Y/N).”

“They’re not completely wrong,” she said.

“Babe - ”

“She’s so much older than I am,” (Y/N) cut him off. “She’s so much more mature. And she’s pretty, and you two get along so well.”

“She’s like my sister,” he added. “(Y/N), they’re just trying to get in your head. I love you more than anything, and only you. You’re the one I want to be with, and in my eyes, you’re meant for me.”

Tears started to form in her eyes again, but this time they were from happiness. Corpse squeezed her slightly and kissed her forehead.

(Y/N) shrieked and giggled as Corpse stood and lifted her from the bed. He carried her to his room, where they both realized Corpse was still streaming. He placed (Y/N) down onto his bed and leaned into his mic. “Sorry for being gone so long guys, but I’m gonna dip. Hit me up for the next lobby.”

His friends chorused goodbyes and well wishes for (Y/N) before Corpse left the call.

“Sorry to anyone watching for the silence,” he said to his viewers. “I hope the Discord call without the visuals made for great out of context jokes. I’ll talk about my reason for going MIA later, but for now thanks for watching and I’ll see you guys next stream.”

He got in bed next to (Y/N), but this time he rested his head on her chest.

“You didn’t need to end the stream,” she told him. “I wouldn’t have minded watching for a while.”

“Nah, I would’ve went on a rant if I kept streaming. I want to cuddle with you for a while, then I want to show you that I love you and only you.”

(Y/N) smiled and wrapped her arms around Corpse. She ran her fingers through his curly hair, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo.

“I love you, too,” she whispered into his hair. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for. Everything I say is the truth, and you know I’m always here to assure you, babe.”

She kissed the top of his head, silently thanking him again.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Hello doll, it's Minty! 💚 I saw your requests are open and I simply had to dance into your inbox! I would adore a Bad Batch Western AU fix with Crosshair and the sentence prompt "If that wound doesn't kill you, then I will". I love you friend! 💚💛💚💛💚

Crosshair – Dust and Blood (TBB Western AU)

Summary: Every story need a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is the beginning, and it starts with a man who calls himself Crosshair.

From the sentence prompts:

22. “If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

Word Count: ≈1535 words

CW/ TW: Angst? Idk if you could say it’s angsty - it’s not happy that’s for sure but angsty? Idk anyway; western stuff, wounds/ injuries, (death) threats, pain, scars, blood

Tags: @mintywriteswritings @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (thank you again for the help!) @dusk-dawn-and-stars @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad @equalityforcats

@ladykatakuri @firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: This is so exciting for me you can’t even imagine; thank you Minty for the request! I’m really happy to dive a bit more into the stories of the boys, and Crosshair’s arc is one I’m really happy to explore ^^

Also feel free to check Little One – Highly Suspect (you’ll find out a lot of their songs help me dive into that AU)

Dust.

This is how everything started, and how everything would end. He knew it the moment he jumped down his horse, a grimace of pain twisting his face as the dry coat of blood on his ribs ripped open once again. He tried to take a deep breath but stopped halfway, the pumping in his head becoming too strong to focus on anything else. He almost tripped on his feet, grabbing the beige mane of his companion to keep himself up; which made the horse neigh.

“Sorry, pal.” He barely muttered, unable to do more than loosen up his grip a bit.

Above him, an old sign falling into pieces, and a barely readable inscription on it; bleached by the constant exposure to the sun and the occasional rains.

Marauder Valley.

He walked through the entrance of the abandoned village – if one could call it a village – and wandered next to his horse, looking for shelter and a new shirt. His was tainted with red; dark and dried, smelling like iron and sweat. His wound wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but he could still feel a thin dash dripping against his skin when he was turning around or raising his arm.

It took him a few minutes to find the abandoned saloon, and the sight made him hum in a mixture of disgust and relief. A thick coat of dust was laying on the floor, and most of the bottles and tables were left to be; frozen in the middle of their usual occupations. A deck of cards was spread on one of them, and he came closer to take a better look.

Poker. And it was a good hand. Whoever played it knew what they were doing.

The wooden floor was lightly creaking under his feet as he walked around; and hadn’t it be for the few footsteps he was leaving behind, no one could have guessed he came here. He took a small hallway, leading to a few unsanitary rooms – barely big enough for a bed and a chair for most of them – and looked under the beds for a medical wallet or something he could use to patch himself up. His head was spinning a bit, but the clicking of a gun’s chamber and the cold metal tickling the back of his neck felt more important in the moment.

“If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

He slowly turned around, hands barely raised to show he intended no harm, and came face to face with a lady; probably in her mid-forties, small and chubby, and visibly determined to fulfil her promise.

“I need a doctor.”

“You won’t find any ‘round here.”

“Then a drink will do.” he shrugged, unimpressed.

“We’re going out and get you a drink then.”

She moved the cannon of her gun toward the main room, letting him open the way. He went in with the hope of getting some rest and medicine, and got back outside empty-handed and under the threat of an armed lady; bathed by the burning sunrays of a hot afternoon, in the middle of nowhere.

Nothing had changed during his little visit in the saloon but his state. He tripped on his feet, unable to focus on the stairs and the figure next to him, and fell on his knees next to his horse. The pain was getting worse; stinging and burning, the sensation of warm blood dripping from his open wound and straining his shirt even more; and the headache, the heat, the shivers-

“Alright, sit down.”

He dropped his weight on his behind, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Stay here. And don’t faint!” the woman warned as she walked away from him, disappearing behind the horse. His head felt too heavy, his veins pumping too hard to let him think straight. He let himself lay back against the dusty wooden floor, closing his eyes under the bright light burning above him.

He woke up when cold water splashed his face, making him jolt and grimace in pain.

“ Told you not to faint.”

“I didn’t.” he groaned, trying to sit again, the coat of blood ripping itself a bit as he did.

“Feel like y’can walk?” she looked down at him with a sort of irritated worry. He nodded, grabbing the guardrail to get up, slowly. “Good. Follow me.”

He stumbled a bit, trying to catch up with the woman. He thought he could handle it; he had gone through a lot to get here, and it couldn’t be worse than what he had left behind.

Or maybe it could be.

The loud thud of a body falling on the ground caught the woman’s attention, and as she turned around, a sigh escaped from between her lips.

“Great… Now I have to get the big guy.”

.

Waking up was painful, sudden. His ribs were on fire, his eye stinging – though the light was filtering through old curtains – and the remaining of his headache was still blurring his vision. He didn’t noticed the comfort of the mattress right away, neither the voices filling the room he was in.

“Ha, coming back to us. Told ya ‘t would work.” A deep voice commented in a smile.

“And that?” the woman’s voice asked, and he guessed she was pointing at his wounded ribs. He brushed the tips of his fingers against his own torso, realizing he was bare skin and wrapped in a bandage.

“Can’t do miracles. ‘Have to rest for a few days, go easy with manual tasks for a while.”

He let out a groan when he heard the recommendation, and tried to move his arms to push himself up and sit in the bed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the voice advised in a laugh, “Unless ya want to open that wound ‘gain.”

He blinked a few times, and managed to see who was talking to him; a man, tall and visibly strong, dressed with dirty clothes and a squared shirt – probably a farmer. A scar was covering the side of his bald head and reached his left eye. The man was neither scary nor impressive, and seemed friendly enough.

He abandoned the idea of sitting, letting go of the light pressure he had put on his elbows and falling down against the mattress. His head gently buried itself in the pillow, and he let out a long, tired sigh.

“Who’re you?” he muttered in his breath, turning his head their way to look at them.

“’Name’s Cid,” the woman told him, “and he’s the big guy.”

“You know that’s not my name.” the man chuckled, and his voice filled the room with warmth and amusement as he looked at Cid.

“Don’t know your name, and couldn’t care less about it.” she shrugged.

“And you are?” the big guy asked, shifting his attention back to him.

He had expected the question, and he knew the simple answer would be to give his name. But he couldn’t stand the sound of it anymore, and his spite told him to go for that one instead. After all, it was “made for him”.

“Crosshair.”

 “Well then, welcome to Marauder Valley Crosshair.” The man smiled at him.

He didn’t feel like returning the gesture, but nodded nonetheless, out of respect and gratitude for their help. He scanned the room, bringing a hand to his face; a light grimace twisting his mouth as he felt the skin stretching on the side of his body.

His fingers ran against his scar around his eye, trying to sooth the stinging pain. It was still recent, bright red, not quite blending in with his warm skintone.

“Well, ‘gotta leave now,” the big guy smiled, grabbing his hat in hand as he walked toward the door, “but if you need anything, I won’t be far.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cid pushed him out of the room, following his steps, “we know. You,” she pointed to Crosshair, “don’t play stupid, stay in bed.”

And on these words, she dragged the door behind her, slamming it before her heeled steps hit the apparent stairs outside the room. Crosshair stared at the door for a moment, contemplating once again getting up, but he was tired, and the bed was comfortable; and these people didn’t seem to want him any harm.

He didn’t seem to want any harm either, right, “Crosshair”?

He groaned faintly at the thought, and his hand dropped from his face to his chest, barely grabbing the thin blanket above him. He was far from him; from them, and now he just needed to sleep the pain away.

Sleep the pain away. Sleep.

Don’t let them get to you. Because they will get to you.

He will find you, you know he will.

They did this to you. They will do worse.

You know that, don’t you, Crosshair?

He let out a frustrated sigh at the thoughts, and slowly turned his head to look at the window. The sun was shining bright behind the curtains, and he could see the dust floating in the rays of light filtering through. It was peaceful.

For now he was safe, far away in a lost, abandoned town, in the middle of nowhere.

For now.

[writing-in-april]

Training wheels

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Years later after Spencer teaches Reader to drive even though he hates driving, Reader becomes good enough to ride a motorcycle they get him to come along on a ride.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my seventeenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! This fic is based on this request- which I decided to make smutty instead of full on smut so I could make it a bit more fluffy. Disclaimer- I know nothing about motorcycles and I can’t even drive lol so sorry for the lack of terminology. This ended up being gender neutral- I checked it over for the correct pronouns a few time but I could have missed something- please let me know if so! Feel free to give me your response by sending something to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: 18+- (if you are found to be violating this I will tell writers who you are), no full on smut- in the smutty/spicy category, a bit of grinding, implications about having sex in the future, In public sexual teasing (who’s fucking surprised), hints at Sub!Spencer, A few swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.0k

Spencer hated driving. He always shook whenever he couldn’t stop the racing thoughts about the dangers of moving vehicles. He knew he was a good driver, but it was easier for him to trust the metro which stayed on its tracks (most of the time). A car with no rigid path and with so many variables just made Spencer’s mind race too much.

You were the only person that could get him to get into a car, without any sort of coercion. At his job he had accepted it as a reality of his situation; there was no way that he could get around it. He agreed to teach you how to drive to your job, which happened to be where you had met him. You ran a small thrift store just walking distance from your apartment. There had been no need to drive anywhere, until you opened up another branch on the other side of town.

You had met Spencer there, he had come in at night, just before close. He shopped around for a few sweater vests and cardigans until you had told him that you needed to close. His mumbled apology had been so cute you remember it to this day.

When he noticed that you walked home in the same direction as his, he offered to keep you company. At first you thought he had done it out of guilt since he made you stay late, until you realized he liked your presence. It was not a romantic relationship (not yet at least), you both didn’t kiss or anything, but you did love to tease him.

He cared about you, and you about him, which is why he eagerly offered to teach you to drive when you mentioned that you were scared to learn with an instructor. You preferred to be taught by someone who you knew and knew was a good driver. Spencer was just that, even with jittery fingers and tapping feet.

Since then you had become a great driver, good enough that you felt confident indulging in one of your dreams. You had always wanted a motorcycle, the wind blowing in your face and the freeing quality it had, had always made you desire one. Despite Spencer’s protests about the potential for even more safety hazards than a car you still indulged your dream, confident in your skills that Spencer had laid the foundation with his excellent teaching skills even while slightly fearful.

You had taken to it like a fish to water, it had been even easier than when you had Spencer teach you. Now it was the time to show the master how the apprentice approved, though you highly doubted Spencer liked to be called a master at driving. More like a teacher, a nervous one.

It did take some convincing for him to agree to ride on your motorcycle with you.Somehow, through gentle persuasion throughout the last few months, you had done it. He had prefaced it saying that it would be the only time it would ever happen, and you made it your goal to change his opinion. You highly doubted he’d ever want to drive it, which was fair considering he couldn’t stop the thoughts of statistics about safety in his head. You hoped though, that maybe he’d like riding with you.

“Is it safe?” Was his first question as soon as he arrived at your small thrift store you owned, jittery with nerves.

“Well- hello to you too.” You sassed cocking your hip to the side while holding your helmet in the small of your waist. He blushed bashfully, then finally said hello before you assured him, “I wouldn’t be bringing you if it wasn’t safe- I wouldn’t be driving it if it wasn’t safe.”

“Ok- I trust you.” He relaxed a little, though he was obviously still nervous.

To cheer him up a little you pivoted the conversation onto a more jovial topic, “Will you wear a leather jacket?”

“Maybe next time- if you convince me to get on the death trap again.” It was rare to see Spencer tease you back, but you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Quipping back you said, “Maybe I could get you to drive it too”

“I think I’d need training wheels for that.” A snort came out of you at that; it was funny imagining Spencer riding a motorcycle with bicycle training wheels.

“That would be a sight to see.” You swung your leg on to mount the vehicle, ready to take him on a spin. You then prompted him while getting your helmet on, “Come on pretty boy, let’s do this- and get that helmet on.”

He was a little nervous just going by the shaking in his palms, but he still put the helmet on and climbed on- albeit a bit awkwardly.

He wrapped his hands around your waist snugly when you roared the motorcycle to life. Whenever you had to break he clenched tighter, maybe not enough to leave bruises, but enough that it would be implanted in your memory for a good long while. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him.

You could tell he had slowly relaxed a little bit more even while keeping a strong grip on you as you made your looped path charted out in your head. Starting at your store and ending at your store, it was longer than maybe it should have been, considering Spencer’s grip on you had made your arousal spark to life.

You soon realized you weren’t the only one enjoying this, feeling something slightly stiff as Spencer shifted slightly at a red light. Oh, he was enjoying it. His cock confined in his pants was growing harder as the journey progressed.

“Did you have fun?” You questioned just as you pulled back into where you started, even though you already knew he did.

He squeaked out a measly, “Yeah!”

You smirked again, out of sight from his face. Biting your inner cheek in thought, you contemplated whether or not to act on it. It would be so easy to just swivel your hips and begin to grind down on his erection that had been pressing into you during the whole ride.

Fuck it, this might be one of your only chances to make a move. You tilted your hips just a smidge, leaning back just a little into him. You heard a hitch in his breath, his hands he had around you tightening back around you, pulling you in closer.

He whimpered when you sat back a little more, testing the waters just a little further. When he himself rolled his own hips once you had to ask, “Do you want me to keep going, Spencer? Do you want this?”

His helmeted head dropped into the crook of your neck, nodding into it as he began to rock into you a little. You gripped around the handles that you were still holding, all you had done was break so far. You were both in broad daylight perched on top of the vehicle. Turning your head as much as you could when you realized he hadn’t verbally responded you prompted sharply, “I need you to speak up, pretty boy. Do you want this?”

“Yes!” He gasped quickly at your prompt.

You then ground yourself back onto his bulge, rotating yourself slowly to feel the torturous friction. The fact that your bottom halves were still clothed only made it even more devastating. No one was around as it was the weekend, when you weren’t open and no one was really around. You still tried to stifle any noises you were tempted to make as his own hips started to undulate into your own.

A person could round the corner and immediately see two people grinding like teenagers onto each other. You both may have been completely closed, but it was quite obvious what you were both doing.

The extra friction you were getting was building a burning orgasm in you, the noises you had been trying to hold back were too hard to stifle. A moan came out of your mouth when Spencer moved down his hands from your waist to the outside of your hips, pulling you down on him with even more ferocity.

When his phone then began to ring you both let out a groan, your hips stopping any movement you had been making over his hard bulge. He reluctantly pulled out his ringing and buzzing ancient phone. Which you would normally find endearing that he carried around somewhat arcane technology, but your weaning arousal was wanting you to smash it on the ground.

“Hello? Hotch?” You groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. There was no way this was going to go further tonight, Hotch wasn’t calling him on the weekend just for paperwork. He was about to leave for a case.

You ripped your helmet off of your head out of frustration while he continued to talk. Grumbling while wiping the sweat that had started to accumulate, Spencer chattering away quickly at Hotch telling him he’ll be there in about ten minutes.

When he got off the phone he began to stammer in apology, this was the only time I’d ever want to cut him off, “There’s no need to apologize- go catch a bad guy.”

“Thank you- and thanks for-r the ride and- um the other thing… I’ve got to go now, I’ll uh- talk to you later.” He then awkwardly shuffled off, trying to conceal his obvious bulge even though you were the only one around to see it.

When he got into his car, you were happy he had brought it for once. You wouldn’t have let him walk all the way to his office from here, and you would have had to drive him with his bulge pressing into your ass again.

“I’m gonna need a cold shower.” You added, mumbled underneath your back as you put your helmet back on, ready to drive back to your apartment to hopefully freeze your frustration away.

—-

The next time you saw him- about a week later, a little blush immediately graced his cheeks, probably thinking about what happened last time. You kissed his cheek and felt how hot they had gotten just by being in his presence. He was here again, early this time, ready for you to open up your shop for the day.

“You’ve got to wait 30 minutes until you can buy something, I don’t open till then,” You then flashed a smirk towards him, he might die from being overheated if you kept teasing him. Still, you continued to do it, “Can’t be seen to show you any favors, pretty boy. Then everyone would want one.” As soon as the keys turned to unlock you didn’t open the door right away, instead turning back to face him. He fidgeted even more underneath your direct gaze, also averting his eyes. You let go of your hold on the keys, bit your lip and added, “Though, I think you’d be the only one I’d want to be my favorite.

He stuttered a bit at that, before changing the subject, “Um- I came here to actually thank you for last week… I had a lot of fun.”

You then cocked your head to the side in question, “Didn’t you already thank me last time?”

“Yeah.” He responded meekly, clearing his throat a few times while he collected his thoughts. “Can we finish what we started?”

You beamed, as it had been exactly what you were hoping for. You made your way back over to him, this time to pull him by the front of his shirt to press a steaming kiss to his lips. He moaned, letting your tongue run over his teeth a few times before you deepened it further. You were panting by the time you released him, but worked through the gasping breaths to answer verbally now, “Of course- come inside with me. If you won’t go on another ride with me after this while wearing a leather jacket, I’ve got a leather jacket you can wear while I ride you.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join):

All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson@takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @spenxerslut @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Hermitopia AU Conclusion

The last ask has been answered, the masterposts are complete, and (although art, writing, and Discord discussion are still accepted and encouraged) it is finally time to officially wrap up the Hermitopia AU! Because this was such a massive event - and no small thing to moderate - there will be a pause in blog activity for a day or so before the inbox will open for regular headcanons again. I apologize in advance for the wait!

In the mean time, I would just like to say: I am so, so thankful to everyone who participated in the AU. Your ideas and your creativity have made this blog a better place, whether you sent in one headcanon or dozens, and I am constantly in awe of the energy and enthusiasm of this community. Thank you, all of you, for making this universe we’ve created as vast and as interesting as it turned out to be.

Below are a collection of my own ideas, for those of you who like a satisfying (but still not entirely closed-ended) ending. These events take place as many days, months, or years into the future as you need them to make your own ideas work, and none of them are set in stone. You can take all of them, some of them, or none of them as truth if you want to...but either way, it has been an honour to build on a project like this one alongside you all.

And with that...the Hermitopia AU concludes! Finished, or barely begun, like so many good projects are. Have a great day everyone, and happy headcanoning!

- Mod Shade

"People of Hermitopia."

The man on the screen shifts, running a nervous hand across his bald head and squaring his shoulders. The broadcast quality is unstable, but it's more than enough for every citizen in the city to recognize who's speaking.

"This is your Concorp Branch Director, Cub. As I'm sure you are aware, I am the head of Project VEX in this city. You all know the VEX initiative as groundbreaking, life-saving, a shining success and a step towards a new era for humanity...and some of you may even see me as a hero for creating it.”

He closes his eyes, a brief look of pained remorse crossing his face. For a moment, he looks utterly defeated, almost small in the face of his impromptu audience of thousands...but finally, he fixes the camera with a steady gaze once more and begins the great unravelling.

“Maybe it was all those things, in the beginning. Maybe *I* was, once. But today, after far too long, I have some confessions to make...."

~

- For years, Cub had been desperately scrambling to hold the tatters of his life’s work together. Project VEX had started so well, and he had poured so much of himself into it, that when the failed experiments and rebellions became more and more frequent he was unable to accept a change of course. He covered up the project’s failings to maintain funding and public image, but mostly to maintain his own image to himself - that he was still the hero he’d set out to be and create at the project’s start. However, his denial was wearing on him heavily, and eventually he had a breakdown and decided to go public rather than keep drowning the city in lies.

- This breakdown was prompted by xB, who after his own moral breakthrough, confronted Cub and urged him to stop withholding knowledge and truth. xB also informed Cub of his own unknown truth - that the unintended power of his presence was the thing that was keeping the experiments successful when Cub was around. This was the final straw in breaking through Cub’s denial

- Along with Cub’s broadcasted speech, files were released to the media containing proof against most if not all of Concorp’s falsehoods. Many names were cleared of crimes that had been pinned on them, including Beef, Impulse, Doc, Cleo, and the majority of the other Unrestrained and Unaffiliated former VEX trainees that the company had tried to cast away

- Understandably, it took a very long time for the chaos to die down and all that information to be processed by society and the justice system. It may be years before the community can see some of their heroes in the proper light again, but at least they are now free to begin rebuilding their reputation without being labeled as villains and traitors.

- Those who actually did commit villainous acts are given a fair trial, with consideration for their motives and the new Concorp information as extra evidence

- The VEX program is withdrawn by Cub’s superiors and put under a strict review. It is reborn after a massive restructuring, with a new director, new limitations on what experiments can and cannot be attempted, and a greatly extended screening and training program to reduce the chances of graduates becoming villains. The new project will produce far fewer heroes with much subtler powers at first...but if that is the cost for the safety and stability of the city, then most people would agree that it is a small price to pay.

- Cub is not permitted to work on the new Project VEX in a management role, ever again. It’s a harsh blow for him, to have to watch his dream from the sidelines...but he knows he gave up the right to guide it when he abused the control that it gave him. At least his superiors allowed him something to do while he awaits trial: he is present (although guarded) at every new VEX trainee’s first experiment, lending his power to increase their chances of success.

- Mayor Scar resigned willingly. Nobody had enough evidence to accuse him of anything, and he didn’t plan on giving them a reason to look by trying to stay in office. Instead he chose to make his exit from both Concorp and government matters complete, at last. Or so he thinks. Who knows? Maybe he’ll learn what most of the people he’s helped to manipulate have already found out: that connections and old grudges don’t easily lose their grip.

- Scar is replaced by TFC, voted in by almost unanimous community support and funded by donations from all the people he’s saved over the years

- The greater Convex company offers a choice to the survivors of the old program: Come to work under their new, more honorable system, or take a generously large settlement and be free to build new lives

- Team ZIT declines the job offer, pooling their payment and using it to buy a shiny new base together for their independent hero venture. There are still a handful of real villains to fight, after all, and there are bound to be more once people start successfully copying Concorp technology. Now that Impulse is back at their side, they wouldn’t give up their roles saving the community for anything - but they’re done with being used by some guy behind a desk. From now on, justice and bravery will be their only guides!

- ...justice, bravery, and TFC, that is. He isn’t their boss by any means, but the more experienced hero does drop by often between his mayoral duties to make sure the youngsters stay out of trouble and in one piece.

- The nHo, according to all official records, took their settlements and split up, leaving Hermitopia far behind. However, Team ZIT suspects that the vigilante life hasn’t left them so easily. They’d be the last ones to report the odd sighting of a whipping vine or a distant masked figure, though - unregulated as they are, the nHo’s shady methods for a good cause prove useful from time to time. (And their base has really good tea. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit more than “the occasional sighting”...)

- Ren settles back into his meadow cabin, but after that massive release of info and a long, LONG period of processing, he now has Iskall, Stress, and Cleo as regular visitors. Every morning he wakes up and forgets for a moment that it’s real, that they’re really alive and with him again...but they are, and he is happier than he ever thought he would be again.

- Jevin and Mumbo visit the cabin occasionally. It took a while for Mumbo to get his memory back, but he now remembers all of his friendship with Iskall and Grian, and they come together for fun and shenanigans regularly with the rest of the cabin crew.

- Grian still spends his time looking for his clones, but honestly, he doesn’t mind. The adventure always did hold more meaning than the conclusion for him, and now, he has friends to help out!

- False disappears into thin air to wait out the fallout of Concorp’s information release. She snags herself a quiet job and a small apartment on the outskirts of town, fully intending to return to her mercenary work just as soon as the dust has settled...next week, maybe. Or the week after that. Or maybe, once the garden has been fully planted. She’s really enjoying having time for stuff like that now...but she’ll get back to work, really, she will! Soon.

- Joe and Cleo tearfully reunite through xB, and Joe becomes another frequent visitor to the cabin. Cleo also visits Joe’s base in the time exclusion zone, but she really prefers the cabin. Time skips are disorienting, and they make her want to sneeze.

- Keralis and Void come to an agreement. Xisuma isn’t entirely clear on what that agreement is - something to do with an allowance of cookies from Biffa’s bakery in exchange for not killing anyone - but he’s more than happy to be less sore and tired all the time.

Hermitopia is making progress. Real progress, this time - not just the breaking of humanity’s limitations, but breaking them with true heroic care, with the good of everyone in mind. There are some hurts that will never fully heal, mistakes that can be learned from but not undone, and yet...now there is a path, a way forward. It won’t be easy, but a kind and gentle future waits for them, welcome and well deserved. They will figure it out, together.

And together, they will step forward, into the new world that each of them has helped to create.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Next One Is Free

A PASSING THROUGH ONE SHOT POV REMIX

A/N: A long long time ago I posted an ask where for people to request befores, afters, or POV changes for any scene/ chapter of any of my stories, and @suchatinyinfinity​ (thanks Dani!) asked for the scene from Passing Through when Ryan and Reader meet from a different POV (which we get from Reader in the main story) and I am sorry it took me so long to get to because I had a blast writing it. It also goes along with the first prompt from this September prompt list- which I am going to try to utilize in some way shape or form through this month in an attempt to write daily. The goal for September is to empty my inbox and catch up on things I have been meaning to write so without further ado... 

Request/ Prompt: Ryan & Reader’s first meeting- POV Remix // September Prompt Day 1- the smell of coffee  

Word Count: 1k

It was a typical Tuesday morning shift at Caribou. 

The bell above the door hadn’t stopped jingling for more than a few seconds at a time as customers came and went. The chiming sound was accompanied by the near constant clanking of ceramic mugs jumbling together in the dishwasher and the drip, drip, hiss of the coffee pots to create a sort of soundtrack for her to work to. With only one song. One long song on an endless loop. 

Maggie stared through the steam of the espresso machine at the line of customers stretching out from the counter. Their number never dwindled to less than four no matter how quickly she filled cups or frothed foam. The fast pace could sometimes be exhausting, but it did help to make the time fly when she was consistently busy. Her eyes darted up to the clock mounted to the wall on the far side of the room, squinting to read the time as a man with broad shoulders stepped into the line. Ten thirty. One more hour to go. You can do this, Mags. 

By then she had already had her slew of early regulars with their routine orders and friendly smiles, their “have a great day hun”s and their “see you tomorrow”s genuine even if they were also routine. The daily stream of half sleeping students stopping in for a pick me up en route to their 9 am class a few blocks over at the UC Denver campus had already come through too, Maggie recognizing a few of them as classmates from her night classes and making small talk about assignments or upcoming exams as she made their drinks. There was also a group of middle aged women who she could count on every other week to take up two tables in the corner while they discussed whatever it was their book club had read recently. Though it seemed like it would do the opposite, seeing certain faces, chatting with the same people, even if it was about the same thing every time, helped make a monotonous job less so. 

Not all regulars were a welcome sight though, and she groaned as she recognized the broad shouldered man in the gray suit as the jerk who had made her new co-worker cry the previous week with his rude demeanor. Ugh. Not this guy again. It was undoubtedly him though, his voice cutting through the busy space as he spoke into the phone pressed to his ear with the same condescending tone he used to order his coffee. Letting out a sigh, Maggie capped the tiny cups she held and cashed out her current customer, mentally crossing her fingers in hopes that the jerk in the suit wouldn’t cause any problems. Please I just want my shift to end in peace. I have one more hour and then I’m free. I really just want it to go smoothly. 

The next customer, it seemed, had heard that silent plea, the man ordering a small coffee with a kind smile. He dropped his change directly into the tip jar, thanking her in a slow southern drawl with a tip of his head. He wrapped his long, tattooed fingers around the cardboard cup she passed him and stepped aside, heading for the table where creamers and sweeteners were stocked. 

Before she could even process the pleasant interaction though, the jerk was barking his order at her and she felt herself struggling to keep a customer service approved smile on her face. The effort wasn’t lost on the woman in line behind him, and she gave Maggie a sympathetic look. Luckily, the well dressed asshole didn’t have any complaints about his coffee this time, and since his order was simple he was out of her hair relatively quickly. Good. Now get out of here before-

But it was too late for him to leave without incident as dark brown liquid splashed onto his coat. Maggie saw it happening in slow motion, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was already helping a different set of customers when the nice but apparently clumsy woman who had just shot her a look of solidarity had spilled her beverage. And of course it had to be on him. Maggie watched helplessly as the woman tried to diffuse the situation before it became a shouting match, apologizing for the stain and offering to take care of his drycleaning. More than he deserves, but she’s trying. 

He wasn’t having it though, and just when Maggie wondered if she needed to call for her manager, the kind man with warm eyes was back to intervene. Though he didn’t appear to know the woman, he stepped between her and the jerk and addressed the other man directly. He calmly but sternly repeated what the woman had offered, telling the man to either accept her apology and courtesy or move along. For half a second, Maggie wondered if the well-intentioned canvas and denim clad young man hadn’t made things worse by stepping in, but something in the combination of his tone and the way his calm eyes flashed dark and serious must have made the jerk think twice because he left, grumbling about taking his business to the coffeehouse over on Larimer. Oh. Please do. 

Pressing a fully punched card with a hand-written “next one is free!” on the back into the hero of the morning’s callused palm, Maggie thanked him for ridding the shop of the undesirable customer and poured a fresh cup of coffee for the woman whose beverage the jerk had left wearing. Continuing to help the customers in line, Maggie kept one eye on the pair as they introduced themselves to one another, the woman thanking him again and both of them grinning over their steaming cups. Did I just witness one of those coffee shop meet cutes? Like in hallmark movies and fanfiction? 

Laughing to herself, she watched the two of them leave the shop, the bell announcing their departure, and hoped for one more thing- I hope when he comes in for his free one… they come back together. 

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Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags please feel free to let me know or use the form at the top of my masterlist! 

Tags:  @something-tofightfor @suchatinyinfinity @malionnes @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @dearmarii @fific7 @obscurilicious @luminex3 @vetseras @blackbirddaredevil23​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @yespolkadotkitty​

[the1918]

2020 for the1918

Am I the last person to make this list? Maybe. Do I regret that? Yes. Am I making it anyways because my cognitive behavioral therapy is teaching me fix my avoidance issues? Also Yes.

Let’s do this: @The Trees In Front of Cevans’s House and @Bucky’s Arm... you da real MVPs.

But other than them...

Thank You to Everyone that Truly Made My 2020:

@cantabile-l  Jo (Daddy Dumpster™ Co-Founder) — I have to list you first. How could I not? Every friendship I’ve made in this fandom comes back to you. We literally bonded over porn lookalikes and started this craziness called the Stucky Porn Lookalikes Archive ( @stucky-lookalikes-archive ) to preserve the porn, and it now has now has 85k hits and 500 bookmarks (!!!?!!). But it’s more than that, even more than starting the Daddy Dumpster™ and bonding over culihos. Bespoke got finished because you got me excited enough to want it, just like half a dozen other fics. You were also the basis for many, many other friendships that I list below. Your nesting head canons were the inspiration for so, so many A/B/O moments in my fics. We’re so on the same length on an intellectual and spiritual level (I feel like you and me and @ixalit are three parts of one whole ❤) and I am in love with you for it. Culihos forever.

@hanitrash​ Hani (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) —I’m so, so damn glad you’re in my life. We share that sick sense of humor and refusal to adopt a filter. You add flavor to our Dumpster™ with your wit, and I feel so warm when you share pics and updates about the family with us. You were the first person I ran to when I “discovered” HTP and you held my hand 😂 And Jesus—your talent. I could go on and on and on about Through The Darkness I Heard Your Voice and Private Showing, but also one of my New Year’s resolutions is to start reading your work as Loralynne Summers. Thank you for making me smile every day of last year since April.

@trekchik Jini (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) — I can’t speak to the number of laugh-out-loud, belly-grabbing, cackling moments I have had in a year that could easily have been shit otherwise, all because of you. I feel like you’ve truly become a member of my family; like, I see you posting in the Dumpster™ when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, “Oh, what’s the fam up to today?”. I know I’ve gone on and on about your talent (absolute queen of dialogue and pacing) before, but I don’t thank you enough for keeping the Porn Archive alive when the rest of us are slacking. Your Stucky Tumblr Drabbles (especially the meet cutes) puts a smile on half the fandom’s face regulary, and I’m excited to re-read the wonderful Anagnorsis & Peripeteia soon. Here’s to another year of weird dildo pictures.

@thegodswife Amanda (Dumpster™ Citizen) — I feel like we were literally destined to become friends. The love I feel for you and your little family is real and immense, and I feel like your victories (in life and in writing) are my victories. You have made a slow but steady convert of me to Shrinkyclinks with fics like peaches and because it's christmas, and I am in awe of your talent for writing charged dynamics with jaw-dropping moments. This fandom is lucky to have such a gem as you. 2021 is going to be the Year of Amanda (*clinks Lindeman’s Framboise glasses 🥂*)

@ixalit Max (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My relationship with you has and continues to be lifechanging for more reasons than I can even go into on tumblr. You make me laugh. You make me cry (usually in good ways). You make me horny by supplying the #porn-and-fun as the dutiful resident horny teenage boy of Dumpster™. I remember so clearly when we first messaged talking about your Evanstan thoughts and fics, and I knew your writing was special then (omg, Hiraeth?? How dare). You deserve all the success you earned in 2020 and every bit more success that you will continue to have this year. There is no one else I would rather have with me as we make this ~journey through Song of the Rolling Earth together. 

@becassine Bex (Dumpster™ Citizen) — What can I say about my lucky charm? 🍀 I found our friendship later in the year and I feel it was truly central to the way I finished out my year with a bang (lol). Your encouragement to finish Bespoke supercharged me, and I’m still riding that high in writing SoRE. But for every bit we talk about you being the Queen of Hype (Becassine, First of Her Name), I am also stunned by your own gorgeous writing. The Way I Feel For You is a gift to this fandom and it’s gonna keep rocking our world, along with any other creative endeavor you choose to embark on. Thank you for the treasure of your continued friendship.

@darter-blue​ Bec (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My gorgeous, gorgeous cunt of a friend. What ever am I going to do with you? I feel like you and I have clicked so perfectly and so instantly, and I feel such a strong connection to you. I have been enamored with your skill and your style since I first stumbled across your Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story series and then rapidly gobbled up your other writing. Getting to collab with you on No Vacancies was a dream come true. You make me feel so connected to the outside world and humanity even in this bizarre time and even though you’re on the other side of the world.

@kalee60 Kel (Dumpster™ Citizen) — You flawless sass-master. You brilliant human. You tricky little bastard. What a perfect addition to the Dumpster™ you have been! And your talent, Jesus... just being around you makes me want to write. I have truly never seen someone with as much talent write so prolifically, and I am in very real awe of it. If I had to pick “Fic of the Year” for me, I would not hesitate to pick Push The Button—it turned my world upside down—but for as much as we talk about that epic, your AU Extravaganza is really miracle to behold. And I am so, so pumped for you during this exciting time coming up in your life. Here’s to magnificent year for you in 2021!

@andysmountains​ Andy Gator Lord 🐊 — You’ve changed my life. I’m sitting here and I honestly don’t know how else to put it. You’re hilarious and you’re a ball of sunshine and you have kept this breeder feeling rooted to reality (in a great way) and remembering how to smile during some of the shittiest times I can remember. Newts. You’ve helped me explore my identity, and I’m not sure what greater gift you could have given me. Also, I’ve never heard true love whispered more sincerely than when I see 🔪—and I would give you nine hundred and ninety-seven 🔪 now if not for the fact that you have literally beat me to it.  

@ceratonia-siliqua Cera — We’ve shared so much. I feel so privileged that you’ve picked me to be a person that you want to talk to during hard times because you’re such a special guy, and because you’ve got talent that the world needs to see forever and ever and ever (I continue to blown away by what you did in Sunshine, and none of us are ready for Quilt Fic™) and I hope you never stop writing your whole damn heart out. I truly love you. I do. Thank you for reminding me that there is endless humanity and prose in this world.

@howdoyousleep3​ K — I feel like 2021 couldn’t be starting off better now that you’re in my life again. Last year was largely defined for me by the time I spent with you, and I’ve truly been changed by you and your writing. You are an endless amount of inspiration for me and this whole community; I would bet real money that the number of Daddy Kink converts that owe their new *interest* to finding your Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes series numbers in the hundreds (not to mention your other AUs). But fics aside, I had so many smiles and laughter throughout 2020 because of you, and I owe such a big part of my happy heart to you and your presence in my life. You have a huge, caring heart. Cheers to Cevans continuing to be a giant, bro-ish man slut and us never stopping giving him shit for it — and here’s to Trucker Bucky and his bug.

@lullabybeauty Bee — I’m not sure I would still be writing if it weren’t for you. The interest you took in my fics and endless support you’ve provided have turned me into a real-life 🥺🥺🥺 face so many times I can’t count them. But more than the hype you provide, you are an amazing person, and I hope you never stop putting (and ceaselessly keeping) the word out in our community through your blog that Black Lives Matter and black women matter now and forever; it’s far too easy for those of us who are white to let that truth fade from our minds when there’s not something terrible happening in the news, and I’m so thankful for your posts filling up my dash with reminders I need to be a good ally and giving me information to share with others. Thank you for the gift of yourself.

@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore Caroline—You sort of swooped out of nowhere for me and boosted my confidence through the roof. Your comments and your hype and your hilarious tags remind me every day that writers are only half of the fanfiction equation; all we do without supportive friends like you is sit in the corner dreaming of stories we don’t have the confidence or feel-good to put to words. Thank you for your constant support and for being so. damn. cool.

@littlesurfergrl Heather—Oh, Heather. Queen of the A+ tags. Sender of inbox updates about what time you get off of work and why you’re vibrating to read a fic. All-around beautiful person. Your love and support is magic in my veins.

@hoeforthegays Baby J—I am so damn excited for this creative project you’ve taken on; you are so talented. I look forward to our thirst talks all the time. You make me laugh with your screaming and even your advice. Such a source of sunshine in my life.

@capbvckyrogers / @tae-withsuga Cam — You were the first person who ever reblogged a farmer daddy post. You were the first person who ever sent me a prompt. Honestly, you were the first person who ever bonded with me over a character. There zero (0) chance I would have enjoyed fandom (or certainly any kind of creative success) the way that I did in 2020 if not for you. Thank you, endlessly. 

@justice-for-plums​ Kenz — Another “late in the year” friendship find that I am so grateful for. I love our talks! I am so thankful you felt comfortable to reach out and talk about writing. Our workshopping has helped remind me of what works and what doesn’t for me, and I love the creative collaboration on head canons! Excited for more in 2021.

Shrunkyclunks Bitches®, or those not mentioned already above: @dreadlockholiday (co-founder of the Bitches® with @justice-for-plums​ and #1 reason I blushed last year), @oh-i-swear-writes​ @wayward-lives​ @allegedlyann and others I either am missing on tumblr or forgetting (but not because I don’t love you) — Here’s to Cap Steve and modern Bucky and 1,000,000+ words written during our writing sprints in 2021. [Bitches® server membership is open by the way! If you love Shrunkyclunks, contact Dready @dreadlockholiday​].

And to the endless list of others who made me smile, laugh, sometimes cry, feel proud, but always feel that incredible Stucky love — a list that includes but is certainly not limited to @fishcustardandclintbarton,​ @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier, @willbakewithstucky, @hannah-stagram​, @thewaythatwerust​, @bigbraiiin, @musette22, @luninosity​, @fandomfluffandfuck​, @maddiewritesstucky​, @hbalbat, @doctorenterprise​, @epicstuckyficrecs, @k347 and the massive important people I know I am forgetting (...like some BIG ones)

To everyone above and anyone else who has scrolled this far:

Thank you.

Let’s all have a fantastic 2021 🥂

[unholyhelbig]

hizzie prompt: hope, lizzie & Pedro in the kitchen (Lizzie making him a sandwich obvi) and he brings up that thinks they’re dating cause he heard an older kid talking about it (because of the fake funeral “lover” comment that leads to dating rumors)

A/N: You’ve got it! I have a bunch of Hizzie Prompts in my inbox, and now that the show starts soon, I’m going to give them a go. (Read on AO3)

Title: Lovers 

Ship: Lizzie Saltzman/ Hope Mikaelson 

Lizzie pulled the freezer open like she had done a million times before, a blast of cold air hardens the sweat against her collarbone. It made her skin feel tight. She reached blindly for a water bottle and instantly moved the hunk of ice to the back of her neck, flinching under the change in temperature and then relaxing into it.

She groaned, rolling her head to loosen the tension. Training with her father was not going well; it wasn’t going horribly either, but she had been flipped against the docks way too many times for her liking. There would be a day when she could catch his hands before they made contact. But today, she nursed her wounds and craved a shower.

When she closed the door, she jumped, drawing in a thick heaping of breath as the fridge shook under the movement. Pedro stood on the side of the appliance, an innocent smile on his face, curls falling into deeply innocent eyes.

“Hi Lizzie,” He chirped

She didn’t want to fall for his nice act. Pedro had never been sneaky, per se, but he had a certain look to him as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands tucked behind him. “What do you want?”

“Nothing just wanted to say hi.” He let his shoulders drop when Lizzie narrowed her eyes “Okay, fine. I want a sandwich.”

“You know how to make those yourself.”

“Yours are better,”

She set the icy water bottle down on the counter and let out a sharp sigh. He knew her weakness, and the compliments were flattering. Pedro happened to be one of the only people she could stand being around in this God Forsaken place- he was a smart kid. A hungry kid.

“Alright fine, sit.” She lifted her chin towards the table and that light came back to his face. He dashed over to the breakfast bar and scrambled onto a chair. She didn’t care how much she wanted to shower and nap. It could wait.

She opened the fridge once more and pulled out the ingredients: Turkey, Cheddar cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and mayo because Pedro was never a fan of yellow mustard. Lizzie prided herself on her cooking skill, however minimal. She could whip up a mean mac and cheese, and an even meaner cold cut sandwich.

Lizzie washed her hands free of dirt and grasped a dishtowel to dry them. When she turned, they weren’t alone. Hope Mikaelson stood timidly at the kitchen door, wringing her hands as if she were thinking about walking right back out. But she looked hungry too, her mouth was watering at the sight of the scene in front of her.

“Did you hear the crinkle of the bread?” Lizzie snorted.

“What? No! I was on my way to get some… salt… for a spell.” Hope squinted and then nearly combusted trying to think of a better excuse. There wasn’t one; it was too close to dinner for her to hide her hunger.

Lizzie groaned and gestured vaguely to the chair that was open next to Pedro. He wiggled a bit as he scooted over and Hope lowered herself into the seat. She rested her chin against her hands as Lizzie worked. Her stomach growled loudly and she licked her lips as Lizzie tore open the turkey.

She worked methodically, slicing up the tomato first, the sharp edge of the blade. It took everything in her to focus her attention on the task at hand, and not on Hope and Pedro. They talked in hushed voices. Hope had a way with kids that always warmed Lizzie’s heart- even if it was slightly.

Hope talked to him like he was a kid while Lizzie treated Pedro like an adult. Sometimes they needed that, she sure as hell did when she scaled down the side of the Salvatore school with tied sheets and a couple of sweatshirts for extra measure.

“He said what?” Hopes voice had raised.

Lizzie glowered over the sliced tomato and started layering meat and cheese on toasted wheat. She topped it off with lettuce and the freshly sliced vegetables before setting the plates in front of her audience. She quirked a brow and threw the towel over her shoulder, leaning heavily against the counter.

Pedro grasped the food thankfully and took a big bite “he said mmhmmhm”

Hope clenched her jaw and looked to Lizzie for some type of translation. The taller girl shrugged and shook her head. She couldn’t decipher anything. “Uh,”

“Jed told me that you guys were dating.” Pedro swallowed his food “And I told him there was no way because Lizzie tells me everything, and Lizzie didn’t tell me this.”

“Oh?” She smiled, leaning further into the counter.

Hope’s cheeks flushed and she picked up her own sandwich before taking a large bite out of the corner. She had averted her stare to the crumbs on the plate and even went in for a second bite before completely finishing the first.

“Yeah,” He shrugged his shoulders before frowning, “I think it would work. Hope was really nice at your funeral.”

“I was?” She asked, wiping the corner of her thumb against her mouth “I was. Totally had the greatest things to say about Lizzie. She makes a killer sandwich.”

He nodded in agreeance and slid from the seat “Jed said something about you complimenting her skills with loving people. I think that’s sweet. Thank you, Lizzie!”

“Sure thing, Kid.”

He dashed out of the storm doors and across the yard before she lost sight of him entirely. Hope was chewing thoughtfully and Lizzie grasped Pedro’s plate before putting it in the sink and flicking on the water.

“Lovers?”

“I’m a good one-“

They spoke at the same time and Lizzie succeeded her sentence with a drawn-out sigh. She ran the plate under the stream of water before deciding that now wasn’t a great time to clean up. She would do it later, after a scolding, she was assured. But Hopes wipe and unripe eyes deserved her full attention.

“Look… Hope, I couldn’t help myself.” Lizzie chewed on her bottom lip, careful not to draw blood because Hope was sure to smell it. “Everyone hates me. And before- before Europe that was fine. I wanted people to hate me because that met they feared me, and fear keeps people out of my business.”

“What changed, then?”

“I tried. That whole time I wasn’t flitting around the UK like it was nothing. I was in offices and evaluations, and when I wasn’t there I was with Mom’s witch friends trying to control the way my emotions affect my magic.” She sighed again, this time sadder “So when I died, and no one saw the new me, it struck a nerve. So yes. Lovers.”

The room was silent and Lizzie suddenly regretted a lot, mainly waving Hope in to have a sandwich in the first place. But she took the quiet as a grain of that imaginary salt that the girl was searching for in the first place.

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“Are you good at it?” Hope’s eyebrows shot up “Because if you can make a killer sandwich like that, and you’re good in bed? I know that’s sexist- but I’m curious now that the rumors are going through the wolf pack.”

Lizzie cracked a smile and pulled her shoulders back. She watched Hope as she leaned over the counter and placed the plate on top of the other one. The wolf’s eyes lingered playfully and for a bit too long. But Lizzie took that as a grain of salt too.

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 1)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge -- You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1857

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Ever since you were little, you’d heard the legends. The legend of soulmates. It was as common as Santa Claus or winning the lottery. Some weren’t sure they believed it, because although it was real, it was so rare that people didn’t know how to feel about it. Perhaps it was like believing in ghosts. Documented cases, proof, eye witness accounts weren’t enough to sway some skeptics. Yet, it had to be real because there was a registry, much like when you go to get your license or file a birth certificate or a social security number. There was a system in place to keep track of soulmates.

While others, mainly hopeless romantics, truly believed in soulmates. You heard whispers of it when people talked of their grandparents “perfect marriage” and how they just had to be soulmates. You’d heard some kids on the playground swear their cousin just got their soulmate. 

Now, it wasn’t for everyone. It was a rarity, and much like winning the lottery, it only happened to a select few. 

The few were seemingly random. Everyone from celebrities and CEOs down to starving artists and people who managed grocery stores. It touched all races, religions, and economic status. It was global. It wasn’t unheard of for a South American woman to be mated with a French man. Or one Australian to find their mate within Africa. 

Stories of epic journeys to find their love and mate had been told as bedtime stories. Heart wrenching stories of soulmates who never got to be together. 

The idea of soulmates was so endowed in the world and in history that it was rare enough to be celebrated, but common enough to be easily accepted. That’s why, when people walked with scars all over their body, formed in words, people didn’t even think twice.

That’s how it worked. On people’s 18th birthday, their soulmate was assigned, if they had one. Writing on any part of your skin would show up on your mate’s skin as a scar, and vice-versa. For two days out of the year, their birthdays, they could communicate this way. 

The only downside was that you couldn’t give out your information to your mate -- that part was up to the universe. When they needed you most, their name and address would show up on your arm. It could be life or death, it could be a mental breakdown, it could be that they’re hurt and need a friend. But until then, you shouldn’t share personal information. People had done it before, met their mates before the universe decided it was time, and awful things tended to happen. 

But if they were patient enough, willing enough to wait for the right day, it would all be worth it and they were usually guaranteed a happy life. 

Even though you grew up with this knowledge, you’d let it fall to the wayside in your mind. School and friendships took precedence, and you led your life normally. Every now and again, like on birthdays, a fleeting thought of the prospect of a soulmate would run through your head, but for the most part, you filed it away as a fantasy. 

That was, until your best friend Jenny reminded you of it on your 18th birthday.

You were having a party at your house. A group of about ten friends and you went out and played mini-golf, then had pizza at your house with cake and gifts, then watched a new movie. Your parents gave you money to buy a lottery ticket for fun, and gave you some money for college. 

Nearly everyone had gone home, and your parents already wished you a happy birthday with hugs and kisses before going off to bed. All that was left were you and Jenny, and she was about to walk out the door.

“I’m just saying, you’re 18 now,” she stated as she walked. 

“Yeah, I gathered that when I counted 18 candles on the cake, what’s your point?” you asked with a smile.

“My point is, maybe you should try and see if you��ve got a soulmate.” 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Jenny, the odds of me having a soulmate are like 1 in a million. It’s a silly idea.”

“That’s been true. You know it and I know it. What’s the harm in finding out? I just had a cousin last year that found out. She wrote some appointment down when she was 21, her soulmate got it and wrote back.” 

You perched an eyebrow at her. “How romantic.” 

“I’m serious! Come on, how cool would it be?” 

“It would be kind of neat,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning. “But if no one writes back--”

“Then you haven’t lost anything, and you’ll find someone great later in life. No harm, no foul. Right?” She gave you that super convincing gorgeous smile before dropping her pushiness. “Alright, alright. Just think about it, okay? Happy birthday,” she said before hugging you tightly. 

“Thanks,” you said back.

With that, you cleaned up the kitchen and living room, gathered your gifts, and headed up to bed.  You pulled on your pajamas and crawled into your bed, you sat there, thinking about what Jenny had said.

What would be the harm in writing on your arm? If no one spoke back, it was no big deal, right? 

But if they didn’t write back, would you be saddened? You’d always secretly hoped you had a soulmate out there, so to find out you didn’t have one would be a little devastating. Of course, your life wouldn’t be over, and like Jenny said, you could always find a partner just like you normally would. 

Ultimately, it was just a schoolgirl fantasy… but what if it wasn't? you wondered idly as you sat with your leg propped up on the bed. 

You grabbed a pen off your nightstand and took a deep breath, trying to think of the best thing to ask - this would be scarred on them indefinitely after all. 

You thought, and you thought, pondering anything you could say. But what do you say to a potential soulmate? Finally, you decided there was no perfect way to go about this, and you put your pen to your arm, writing: Is anyone out there? 

You held your breath for a second, wondering if you’d get a scar somewhere in response, even bracing for some form of pain, but after a few moments -- nothing. Nothing happened. 

You sighed. Well, it was a long shot anyway.

After lying in bed disappointed for a while, a feather light sensation came crawling across your arm. You frowned for a split second before glancing down and seeing the letters. Instantly, a grin grew wide across your face. 

“Hi there. : )” 

You wanted to jump for joy. Immediately, your heart soared at the sight. Someone out there was actually fated to be yours? You couldn’t believe this. Why you? You weren’t special. 

“This is my email, if you would like to talk more,” you offered, scribbling on your skin before adding in your email. You opted for email since any other form of communication you might be tempted to find out their name.

Within two minutes, a ping noise came from your computer. You sprang from your bed, not even caring that you were the epitome of a school girl right that second. You dashed the cursor over to your inbox and read the new email. 

“Hello. So I suppose this means we’re soulmates...”

“I suppose it does,” you wrote back, a giant grin on your face. 

“We should probably get some of the formalities out of the way. What should I call you? How old are you?” 

“You can call me… Y/F/I. And I’m 18, today is my birthday. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of people giving out their information before their time. I think we should stick to initials.” 

One minute later, in the same penmanship, you felt something on your bicep -- Happy Birthday

The smile on your face lit back up. 

“That’s my gift to you. And yes, I have heard of the stories. I would rather be safe than sorry as well. You can call me X. I’m 21. I’m in college, actually in graduate school.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. You’re already in grad school? How? What’s your area of study? I’m going into college in the fall - psychology.” 

“I think I should be surprised, but I’m not. That’s what my PhD will be in,” he informed. “As well as genetics and biophysics.” 

Well, the universe is funny, isn’t it? 

You continued to read his message. 

“Long story short, I graduated college at 16. Harvard, if you can believe it.”

Instantly, you were hit with a wave of surprise and shock. Your soulmate was a genius? He was a Harvard grad at 16? In what universe was that possible?

“That’s… really impressive. God I wish I could do that. It’d be amazing to be already done with college. I haven’t even gone there yet but it seems like a lot of work and a lot of stress. Hopefully, the pay off will be worth it though.” 

“What are you wanting to do with your degree?”

“Psychiatry.”

“A noble profession.” 

“I think so. I’d like to help people, as corny as that sounds.”

“I don’t think it sounds corny at all. Quite admirable, in fact. If people didn’t feel that way, we wouldn’t have good people in the world.”

He already thought you were a good person? you wondered, warmth spreading over you.

“I guess that is one way to look at it. I just want to help people and be a voice for people who don’t exactly have a lot of advocates.”

“That’s precisely why we get into these professions, darling,” he wrote.

Darling? Wow, so far, this guy was the jackpot. 

“I suppose it is. So what are some of your favorite books, if you don’t mind me asking? And movies. I feel like a quick way to get to know someone pretty well is through their interests.”

“Indeed it is,” he replied. “I happen to favor T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, as far as books go and I don’t particularly have time for many films.”

“Oh, I see,” you started, and then explained your favorite books and film. 

He had asked you why you liked those and you went into a rather lengthy explanation of why you enjoyed them more than others. After that you two talked music, actually having quite a lot in common there. 

You stayed up all night emailing, until the sun came up. It wasn’t until the glare hit your computer screen that you realized it, either. You didn’t want to end the magical evening, but you did need rest, and you were sure as a grad student, he needed all he could get as well. 

That morning you went to sleep with this newfound relief. It was one less thing you’d have to worry about in life. Worry about finding a mate, a partner for life. They were already there, already perfect, already waiting…

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

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[northcarolinanative]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

Anon Requested: #7 “Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.” and #8 “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know put a shirt on?!” from THIS prompt list:) 

A/N: Hey guys. I’m not gonna be super active, but here’s something I wrote. I have a lot going on right now, but writing is how I help keep my mind at rest and it really helps, so I figured if I’m Writing I would share it. I’m feeling really discouraged not only about personal stuff going on but also about sharing my writing… so any feedback would be great:) I hope you like what I wrote Anon:) I wasn’t sure who you wanted it for so I assumed JJ, but if it wasn’t him I’d be happy to rewrite. As always my Requests/inbox/asks are open, even if it’ll take me a bit to get back to you I promise I will. 

I was with the pogues for as long as I could remember, really since grade school. Together we felt invincible, which often meant doing borderline illegal things, like trespassing. One of our favorite past times would be hanging out at the vacated rental homes in Figure 8, trying to get a taste of the relaxed life that the kooks lead. This one happened to have a pool, that we had all been swimming in. 

I was currently standing on the unfinished balcony, staring over the edge at the pool. My toes were placed just over the edge and I could feel the gentle breeze being higher up. It wasn’t a far drop, but I will admit, I was a little scared. JJ stood behind me, his hair flowing in the wind and that stupid grin on his face, as he threatened to push me over the edge.

“Common Y/N! You’re a pogue, don’t tell me a little jump has got you all worked up now?” He stated, teasing me and causing me to turn red. 

“You know what? I think I’ll just jump from the side of the pool. It’s not deep enough to jump off from up here.” I said hurrying away from the edge of the balcony. 

JJ put both his hands on my shoulders. “Oh no you don’t. Even Pope jumped” He laughed, causing Pope to yell out a “Yea Common!”

I rolled my eyes letting JJ lead me back to the edge of the balcony. I looked down at the water taking a few steps to get momentum to jump into the water. I made it to the edge before I abruptly stopped. “Nope! Nope! Nope!” I said taking a step back from the edge. 

Before I could register what the thumping footsteps behind me ment, I felt JJ grab my waist and take me with him over the edge of the balcony. We were airborne, and I felt the air circle around me. All I could hear was the JJ loud laugh before I was met with the sting of the cold water on my side. I sunk into the water, my butt barely tapping the bottom. I sucked water into my nose on accident. I pushed myself to the surface with my feet. 

I came up gasping for air, and coughing up some of the water. JJ came up beside me, shaking the water out of his hair. The grin of satisfaction on his face was evident as he looked at me. I scowled in his direction. 

“See that wasn’t so scary was it” He laughed, causing the others to chuckle with him. I responded by splashing him with water. He retaliated as it turned into an all-out water fight.  

“Hey guys, I think security is here!’ John B yelled from his spot on the deck. We all quickly grabbed our clothes, trying to throw them on in a rush, as grabbing what we couldn’t in our hands. I had my shorts gripped tightly in my hands, and barely got my shoes on my feet before JJ was pulling me in the direction of the fence. We hopped over it with ease. I looked around for the other pogues but didn’t see to find them anywhere. 

JJ didn’t seem to care, as he grabbed my wrist and urged me to keep running. We were making our way over the dunes, the grass hitting the sides of my leg in the most uncomfortable way possible, and the soft sand making it impossible to move faster than a light jog. “Come on Slowpoke!” JJ said, causing us both to laugh. We finally broke through the dunes and out onto the beach. 

I kept running from the house, in the direction of the Cut but stopped when I no longer heard JJ’s heavy breathing beside me. I turned back to see him with his hands on his knees and his back moving up and down with his breathing. “Who’s the slowpoke now? Gotta meet the guys at the Chateau!” I call out to him. I put my hands on my hips as he walked at me slowly.

“Can we please stop running?” He stopped breathing over-exaggerated. “I think I’m dying.” 

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, watching him walk the remaining distance. His hair was still wet from the pool, and the sun hit it making it look like the perfect shade of blonde. For a moment I forgot that we were running from security because JJ standing there distracted me. To say that JJ wasn’t attractive would be a lie, but the fact that he knew it, and flaunted it, could get annoying. I looked away as he made his way toward me. He raised his eyebrows at me. 

“Can you please like, uhh…I don’t know? ” I paused blushing and looking away from JJ’s curious eyes. “Like put a shirt on?”  I scoffed and began walking back towards the Chateau.

JJ walked up beside me, nudging his shoulder into mine. “So I am distracting you?” He laughed. I just kept silent as we walked back to the Chateau. “Good, you’ve gotten a taste of your own medicine.” He smiled and winked at me before beginning to sprint in the direction of the Chateau, leaving me blushing behind him.

Masterlist

[catrasredemption-moved]

Finn Prompt-a-palooza!

Here we go, finally! All four of Finn prompts from my inbox. I hope everyone enjoys!

I love all of the ficlets you've been posting here! Would you be willing to write more stories with Finn, especially when they first come under Catra and Adora's care, getting used to everybody?

Finn liked Catra better.

That was how Adora felt, at least, given the way the child seemed to cling to Catra. And she was trying really, really, really hard not to be jealous, because it made sense that Finn would latch on to the only other person like them.

But she always itched to reach out and comfort them whenever they were scared or anxious. She wouldn’t, because that would just scare them more. But the temptation was strong.

“It’s okay,” Catra assured Finn as he hid behind her leg. They had decided to rip off the band-aid and just introduce them to the entire Princess Alliance at once, after warning their well meaning friends to not overwhelm the child.

“Here.”

Catra easily picked Finn up, letting them stand on her chair and get a better look at everyone. “That’s Scorpia over there, she’s the one who gives really good hugs.” Scorpia beamed and waved. “And that’s Perfuma, she’s the one who restored most of the palace gardens. Those blue roses you like are hers. That’s Netossa and Spinnerella, they’re married like me and Adora, and they travel a lot and bring back awesome snacks. Don’t… Don’t try the chocolate, though. You might be allergic.”

They all grimaced a little, remembering Catra learning that about herself the hard way. “That’s Mermista — she’s the queen of Salineas, and I know that place is all water and it sucks, but she’s still cool.” Mermista threw a mock scowl in Catra’s direction. She stuck her tongue out over Finn’s head. “That’s Frosta, she’s the princess of the snow kingdom.”

Finn’s eyes lit up. “I’ve never seen snow.”

Catra bit down a groan before saying, “We’ll have to visit some time, if Frosta’s okay with it.”

“Of course, Kitty. I know how much you love the snow.”

Brat, Catra thought, resisting another, very mature tongue sticking out. “And that’s Entrapta. She’s the one who makes all the cool robots and stuff.”

“Oh, you like my robots?” Entrapta asked happily, already producing some new project from somewhere. “Wanna see what I’m working on?”

Finn looked at Catra, equal parts anxious and excited. Catra helped them off the chair. “Go on.”

They immediately ran over to Entrapta, watching her with wide eyes, while everyone just sort of stared at Catra. She raised an eyebrow back. “What?”

“Pretty sure they’re all just surprised you can talk to a child without terrifying them,” Glimmer teased. Catra hissed at her.

Finn, meanwhile, was starting to open a little, wandering around the table. Perfuma saw them coming and produced a blue rose, sticking it in their wild hair. They grinned and giggled.

“Can I give you a hug?” Scorpia asked excitedly.

“Little bones,” Catra reminded her as Finn nodded. Scorpia adjusted accordingly so as to not accidentally squish Finn, but they didn’t seem to mind. Adora wrapped her arms around Catra’s waist, resting her chin on her shoulder, and smiling as they watched Finn cautiously inspect Mermista, who was being surprisingly patient.

It was going to take awhile, Adora knew, for Finn to really adjust to all of them, but especially to going from no parents to two (possibly overbearing) moms, and an entire gaggle of aunts and uncles ready to dote on them at all times. The wait was worth seeing that smile on Finn’s face as Frosta produced a small snowstorm over their head.

It would be worth it.

* * * * *

Catra and Adora and the first time their child gets a really bad cold?

“Guys, it’s just a cold—”

“They won’t stop coughing! What if they can’t breathe? Or—”

Glimmer rested her hands on Adora’s shoulders, squeezing hard. Catra was still peeking into Finn’s room, watching them sleep fitfully.

“They’re fine. I promise. It’s a cold. Didn’t you guys get colds when you know what don’t answer that, I don’t want to hear about what terrifying medical system the Horde had. Just… trust me, okay? The healer said Finn is okay, they just need to stay hydrated and sleep. Okay?” Adora nodded, chewing on her thumbnail. “Catra, do you — and she’s gone.”

Glimmer sighed, looking into the room. Catra and Melog were sitting on Finn’s bed, Catra carefully checking their temperature with her hand.

“Okay, but if they’re like Catra, then how do we know they’ll be okay?” Adora asked anxiously. “Like, really know? The medicine the healers use doesn’t always work on her, remember?”

“And yet she’s still around to be a pain in my ass.” That got Gimmer a small smile.

“But what if they have some rare disease from living on the streets or—?”

“Adora, do I have to get Bow up here to hug you?”

Adora hesitated before nodding. Glimmer sighed, disappeared, and reappeared with her husband, who wrapped Adora in the kind of tight hug only Bow could give.

“Where’s Catra?” he asked, looking at Glimmer. She nodded to the bedroom. Catra was now scratching Finn’s ears while Melog cuddled against their back.

“Hovering.”

It wasn’t really that surprising that Adora and Catra would be overbearing parents. Their own childhoods still haunted them. Who had taken care of them when they were sick? Who had rubbed their backs when they coughed, checked their temperatures, made sure they stayed hydrated and ate something, even just a ration bar?

Glimmer had a feeling she knew the answer, and it was exactly why they were acting the way they were now. They didn’t want another kid suffering the way they did.

“Okay, but what if they—”

“Adora,” Glimmer cut her off firmly. “Stop imagining worst-case scenarios and just go sit with your kid and wife, okay?”

Not that Glimmer thought hovering was necessarily the right answer, either. But at least Catra would keep her from spiraling into all the ways a cold might kill Finn.

“Right. Okay. Right.”

She threw her arms around her friends before hurrying into the room.

—————————————————— 

Most of the day was a blur for Finn. They remembered people talking, something cold against their forehead, sitting up to drink water. But mostly everything was hot and spinny.

It was dark when they woke for real, feeling a little better. Melog purred against their back, and they smiled, reaching back to pet the alien cat.

“Did Mom tell you to stay with me?”

Melog made an almost amused noise and tilted their head to the other side of the bed. Finn looked, and nearly laughed.

Catra and Adora were both sitting on the floor next to the bed, heads resting on the mattress, fast asleep. It looked really uncomfortable. But it made Finn feel better as they snuggled back down under their covers to sleep. They were sure both women had spent all day worrying and pacing because that was what they always did when they were worried. And Finn was someone they worried about now.

They had someone who worried about them. It made them feel pleasant warm as they fell back to sleep.

* * * * *

could you write something where little finn gets separation anxiety after catra and adora take them in? Thanks!

Adora and Catra were surprisingly busy people. Being the hero of the universe and the person who kept the queen’s life from falling apart were both a lot of work.

(That was how Catra described her job to Finn, anyway, despite Glimmer’s glare and protest that she could keep her life together just fine.)

They always made time for Finn, though. Finn never felt alone or neglected, not like they had when they were living on the streets. No matter how tired their new moms were, they always made a point of spending at least an hour (usually two) with Finn in their room after dinner. They’d let Finn talk about whatever they wanted — what they had learned that day, what hell they’d wrought on the unsuspecting Bright Moon guards, how they were finally learning not to hoard food anymore — until someone fell asleep (usually Adora, on Catra’s shoulder, snoring while she and Finn quietly teased her). Finn felt good. Loved.

“I don’t wanna go to the North. It’s cold.”

“Tell me about it,” Catra muttered, already grimacing at the thought. And they were still in Bright Moon. Glimmer clapped her on the shoulder.

“But you get to help take down the old Horde base! Remember how much you hated that place?”

“Not helping, Sparkles.”

Adora rolled her eyes, ruffling Finn’s hair. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, kiddo. There’s plenty of people to stay here and watch you. Or you could go visit Plumeria. I’m sure Perfuma would love to have you.”

Finn momentarily brightened at the thought before their expression fell. “But…”

“We’re coming back,” Catra assured them. “It’ll just be for a few days.”

“And we can call every night!” Adora added. Finn shifted slightly, staring at their feet.

“I guess… that’d be fun.” They hadn’t spent much time in Plumeria. Sometimes they went with Catra while she meditated with Perfuma (Finn had tried once, and had completely failed at it, but Perfuma assured them it was okay), and it was nice there.

Perfuma, of course, was delighted at the prospect of having her adopted nibling stay with her while Catra and Adora were away. She already had an entire room set up for them by the time Glimmer dropped them off (after lots of hugs from both moms and promises to call and they would always be available if Finn wanted to talk).

“Are you hungry?” Perfuma asked brightly. “We were just about to sit down for dinner. Scorpia’s visiting tonight, too!”

Scorpia was great — Perfuma was great, and Finn loved them both a lot. But that didn’t stop them from bouncing anxiously all throughout dinner, checking their tracker pad every five minutes. Adora and Catra had said they would call, they had promised, and Finn knew they took their promises seriously. Adora had explained once that it was a really important word for them, so when they promised something, they meant it. But what if they were distracted? What if they were tired and fell asleep? What if Adora forgot the charger, or—

“Finn?”

They looked up, blinking rapidly, to see Scorpia and Perfuma watching them with shared concern. “You okay, buddy?” Scorpia asked, tilting her head.

“Um… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

The tracker pad went off, and Finn immediately dove for it, trying not to look too anxious as they answered.

“…hate the cold—”

“Oh, shush — hey Finn!” Adora said, beaming when she saw the child. Catra was huddled up next to her, wrapped in a blanket and visibly shivering. “How’s it going?”

“It’s warm,” Finn said, grinning back. Catra stuck her tongue out at them.

They talked for almost three hours, until Glimmer yelled for them to shut up and go to sleep and they were getting up at dawn no matter how little sleep the women got. Catra yelled back that she wouldn’t move until she actually saw Glimmer out of bed.

“I should’ve stayed with you,” she informed Finn wryly. “All those two have done is argue the entire way here.”

“That’s all they ever do.”

Catra made a show of putting a hand to her heart, as if offended. “Scorned by my own child.”

Adora rolled her eyes, shoving Catra back. “Talk to you tomorrow, Finn. Sleep well. Love you.”

“Love you!” Catra added.

“Love you too. Don’t freeze.”

Their smile faded when the screen went dark. 

“Finn?”

They jumped, looking at Perfuma. She and Scorpia had left the child to have their privacy while they talked. She was standing in the door now, watching them with a small smile. “Did you have a good talk with your moms?” They nodded slowly. “Good. Can I show you something?”

“Sure.”

Finn followed Perfuma out of the tent and to the Heart Blossom. They already knew where they were going. “I’ve seen the meditation room—”

“But you’ve never seen it at night,” Perfuma said, leading Finn up the hidden stairs. That was true, Finn supposed. The room was flooded with sunlight during the day, lighting up every corner. Now it was softly lit by moonlight, giving it a comfortable, warm feeling. “You miss your moms, huh?”

“No,” Finn said quickly. “I’m fine.”

Perfuma smiled a bit, going to sit in her usual spot and gesturing for Finn to join her. “Has Catra ever told you why she started meditating?” They shook their head slowly. “She… went through a lot of bad stuff when she was a kid, and she used to get really upset and anxious about it. She had a hard time processing those emotions, though, so I offered to help her. Adora did more than I ever could, but I taught her some slightly healthier coping mechanisms, and she really took to meditating after… a couple years.”

The princess chuckled. Finn tilted their head. It was hard to imagine Catra ever being anxious or scared. She seemed so confident all the time. “Does she still…?”

“Feel that way? Sometimes,” Perfuma said. “Don’t tell her I told you, though. I just want you to know that it’s okay if you’re unhappy right now.”

“Do I have to meditate?”

“No,” Perfuma assured them. “But we can talk about it, if you want to tell me what’s wrong.”

Finn blushed, ears drooping. “It’s dumb.”

“I’m sure it’s not. Do you miss them?”

“I… guess, yeah,” they admitted reluctantly. “What if they don’t come back? Or something happens? Or Aunt Glimmer forgets them?”

Perfuma coughed, clearly trying not to laugh. “I don’t think Glimmer would forget them. But I understand what you mean. It’s scary to be away from them, isn’t it? Even though you know they’re coming home and they’re going to call you every night, it’s still scary.”

“Yeah,” Finn muttered. “Like I said, it’s dumb.”

“Of course it isn’t dumb. They’re your mothers. You miss them. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Finn wasn’t convinced. “Adora and Catra used to have a hard time being away from each other, you know.” Thy looked up in surprise. “After the war and everything. They had to learn that the world wouldn’t end if they didn’t see each other for a few hours. Do you think that’s dumb?”

“No.”

“Then why are your feelings different?” Finn didn’t have an answer. Perfuma gently ruffled their hair. “It’s okay to feel what you feel. You should talk to your moms about it. I bet they’d understand better than you think.”

“Okay,” they said quietly, nodding.

“Did that help at all?”

“A little.” And it did. Especially knowing Adora and Catra had been the same way once. Maybe Finn could talk to them about it.

Perfuma cupped their cheeks and gently kissed their forehead. They smiled a little despite themselves.

“And they’re not your only family,” she assured the child with a smile of her own. “We’re all here for you. I promise.”

* * * * *

ooooo I wanna join the Finn prompt too if it's okay? 🥺🥺 I thought of them (+ glimbow's kids too if u want?) accidentally triggering their moms with throwaway comments abt the FZ or Prime's ship or smtg? like mb gushing that those places look oh so cool in the books bc they're kids and like... one's a wasteland the other's a battleship, I can see them going "why did aunt scorpia even rebuild!!!" or "damn I wish I went there!!!!" without realizing how much those places actually destroyed ppl 😔

Finn thought space was cool.

They weren’t wrong — it was cool. Adora had spent hours on Darla’s deck just staring out the huge windows, watching the stars and planets slowly drift by. Stargazing was her favorite relaxing activity. It was even better when Catra joined her.

Catra… had complicated feelings about space. It wasn’t the stars’ fault that every time she looked at them she heard the faint echo of all beings must suffer to become pure. Maybe someday she could stare at the sky with the same fondness her wife and child felt.

For now, she was content to lie with her face buried in Adora’s chest, listening to her heartbeat and the reverberation of her voice as she talked about the constellations.

That was where she was now, with Finn’s excited voice rambling on about school. Well, it was sort of school. It was the kids spending several hours with George and Lance a couple times a week learning everything they’d ever need to know about history, with guest appearances by princesses with specific knowledge or experience (Entrapta had been allowed to teach exactly one lesson).

“Grandpa Lance and Grandpa George were telling us about the war today.” 

They had insisted on being “Grandpa” to every single child they taught, after a pointed look at their own childless son and daughter-in-law (not for a lack of trying on their part). To be fair, Adora and Catra had gotten a head start, taking Finn in they were nine or ten. Everyone else had to get their kids the hard way. It made for some interesting age differences.

“They said it’s not really history yet because it’s still in the fairly recent past, but since all of our parents were in it, we should probably know about it.” Catra frowned, making a note to find out what exactly was in that curriculum. Finn knew the overtures of the war, but none of the details. Including the things Catra had done. She wanted to keep that way as long as possible. “They said knowing about the space stuff was important but they didn’t know much, so they asked ‘Trapta’s weird friend to help.”

Catra went stiff; the slim fingers in her hair hesitated for a moment before sliding down between her shoulder blades, gently but firmly rubbing her back.

“Hordak?”

“Yeah, him.”

The image of Hordak trying to teach a bunch of kids would have been hilarious if not for the fact that he knew everything.

“What did he tell you?” Adora asked, remaining calm while Catra tried to breathe through the sudden rush of emotions.

“He talked a lot about planets and all the places Horde Prime had been.” Finn’s voice dropped a little. “He was really bad, huh?”

“The worst,” Adora said, finding a knot in Catra’s back and gently trying to sooth it away.

“He talked about Horde Prime’s ship, too. A real spaceship!” Taking deep breaths was starting to get harder. The hand on her back moved to her head, gently scratching her ears. Catra didn’t want Finn to see breaking down — didn’t want them to think it was their fault for bringing it up. Adora had gotten the silent signal. “You guys were actually on it, right? And Uncle Bow and Aunt Glimmer? What was it like?”

Catra’s control was starting to unravel. “You know, kiddo,” Adora said carefully, “it’s kind of hard for us to talk about that. Like how it’s hard for you to talk about living on the streets, you know?”

“Oh.” The word was regretful, rather than the disappointment Catra would have expected. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! I know it all sounds really cool when someone else tells you about. Like you said, it’s more recent than the things you normally learn about. Sometimes people need more time to heal.”

That last sentence was for Catra as much as Finn. There was a shuffle of feet through grass, and then Finn was on top of Catra, hugging her tight. Adora crushed them both in her arms, smiling.

“Why don’t you go find Uncle Bow and Aunt Glimmer? We could camp out tonight. Set food on fire.”

“You’re supposed to cook the food, not set it on fire,” Finn said with a small giggle.

“I have a natural talent. Go on.”

Adora waited until Finn was well out of ear shot before sitting up, tugging Catra with her. “Okay, breathe.” She rubbed her hand slowly up and down Catra’s spine as she spoke. “Follow me. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

Catra took several shaking, too fast breaths before she managed to fall into rhythm with Adora’s hand. “D-Damn it,” she hissed, pounding her fist into the ground. “Why the fuck are George and Lance letting Hordak teach kids?!”

“I don’t know.” There’d have to be a talk about that. “It doesn’t sound like he got into too many details, though.”

“And he had to bring up the fucking ship. Did Prime just fry all his common sense out of him?”

Adora tucked her wife under her chin, pulling her into a gentle hug. They stayed like that until the anxious purr in Catra’s chest finally faded, until the tremors stopped, until she could open her eyes without seeing a haze of green. Another storm successfully weathered, at least until it returned to haunt Catra’s dreams.

“Am I ever going to be able to talk about it without wanting to throw up?” Catra asked quietly after a moment.

“I don’t know,” Adora said honestly. Catra drew back to look at her.

“How do you do it? You were there too.”

“I hate talking about it. So much. But the only reason I was there was for you. So… having you close by helps.” She smiled weakly. “Guess this means we’re stuck together.”

“Oh, the horror.”

[phenomenalcosmicpowers]

In a recent post on I Dream of Twilight Sparkle I said that I noticed asks that were not in my inbox the last time I decided to read through my entire ask box. So I did the same for my mod blog. And while there were some also that I didn't see before. Most are questions I feel either I feel like I may have already sufficiently answered enough with my thoughts on an episode and/or it'd be weird at this point to answer something that's obviously years after the fact.

But there is two I found that I feel like I may want to respond to. The person who sent it was someone who used to discuss the show with me almost all the time, though obviously they must no longer be on Tumblr as all their blogs are deactivated. But I still want to answer since it is sort of relevant to recent stuff. Particularly in their 2nd ask.

By the way, I'm always open to questions on the show or even non-pony topics here on my modblog. I still do love talking about G4 ponies and I wouldn't mind some questions if any of you would like to know my opinion on anything. Now that the show has been over for nearly 2 years , I can have a perspective on many topics about Friendship is Magic that I wouldn't mind sharing. Maybe some things have changed here and there, though I think I still generally have a positive attitude towards most things for certain. I stuck with the show until the very end, and was satisfied with how it ended. And I still have interest in doing more in G4's world even as G5 approaches. (Though I'm sure perhaps once that movie has aired that may be the focus of any questions sent here)

((My answer and more after the break))

For the most part, I think I still generally agree with what I said in my initial thoughts about the Season 6 finale. It's a solid episode with some great interactions between Starlight, Trixie, Discord, and Thorax. Though the way the ending is executed is a bit of a headscratcher. Maybe somewhat less so since thinking about it now, like even if Chrysalis did keep some things loyal. What would stop them from eventually seeing what Thorax's changelings did shortly after.

But I suppose I wanted to answer this mostly about Starlight. Since while the Season 6 finale made HomerJ get over some remaining feelings about Starlight. I'll admit it took literally until writing Secrets of the Dragon's Tear (A year after the show was over) to realize the sort of potential that Starlight had. The baggage from the Season 5 finale always felt like a cloud above her for the entire rest of the show's run. And I consider Season 6's largest mistake is not trying harder to endear us to Starlight. That's what that season's entire job was, to try to make us feel a little better of how rather rushed Starlight's redemption was by giving us a more expanded look into Starlight's character. And unfortunately, I feel like it failed at that in my opinion. Thus I basically disagree (Though respect the opinion of) with those who would say the Season 6 finale was when Starlight finally won them over.

Don't get me wrong, I like how Starlight is portrayed in the episode. But it would of been stronger if say the season had explained more about Starlight's past. How did Starlight get her cutie mark, and given her opinion on Cutie Marks how did she feel at the time?

Instead, we mostly just got Starlight reuniting with Sunburst that didn't exactly give any more details to her rather vague reasons for turning to darkness from him moving away other then finding out Sunburst's personality and how his side of the story went. And from there we had Starlight befriend Trixie... in an episode I still don't really like to this day.

Ironically, the character in the Hearth's Warming episode that casts Starlight as the story's version of Scrooge (Snowfall Frost) is given more reason to sympathize with then Starlight herself.

Starlight then just about disappears up until the episode that introduces Thorax. Where she doesn't do much other then be among the crowd that Spike has to convince that Thorax is not evil.

The next time we see her is Every Little Thing She Does. Which is something of a controversial ep from what I hear, though ironically despite my skepticism of Starlight at the time. I actually sort of liked that episode since it was basically Starlight's own Lesson Zero. Though I get why Starlight deciding to hypnotize all the Mane 6 besides Twilight against their will would not be approved of. Though it does feel like at the very least Twilight and the rest give her enough of a piece of their mind at the end.

And that's how things stood before the Season 6 finale happened. Even though I do think Starlight has good moments in said finale, nothing earlier in the season really dispelled many of my feelings about the Season 5 finale's ending. So despite a good showing, I could hardly care for it. I wasn't convinced yet we were given a satisfactory answer about the many questions that Starlight's sudden redemption prompted.

Another part of my thoughts I feel still applies is when I mentioned that Starlight's a "Diet Sunset Shimmer" (Which considering what I did to link the two for SOTDT, is a bit funny in hindsight). It took just one movie (Rainbow Rocks) for the fanbase to turn a 180 on Sunset. While an entire season with Starlight as one of the good guys goes by and she remained just as divisive as before if not more so by the end of Season 6.

Come Season 7, and Starlight appears quite a bit more often though under the assumption that the Season 6 finale was enough to warm you up to her. There were many complaints during the first half of Season 7 that she was appearing more then she should (Even in an Equestria Girls special where she got to meet the character she was so often compared to). Though another thing about Starlight in Season 7 in hindsight is besides from her meeting a few more friends like Maud. Starlight isn't actually given much to actually work towards. They dropped the whole student aspect so it's not like she was doing friendship lessons under Twilight anymore (Though I suppose on the bright side for the detractors, it lessened worries about her becoming an Alicorn). Season 8 and 9 does somewhat fix that by having Starlight employed at the school, first as a counselor and ultimately ending with her as the school's Principal as Twilight herself got promoted to sole ruler. Which I'm still unsure about if fans of her character feel that was a proper ending for her. Though probably the best that could of been done in context of not much having been done with her over time.

Still, at least for me personally it felt there was alot missing about Starlight and as time went on it became obvious I wasn't going to get the satisfactory answers about her that I wanted. So as a result, I only had lukewarm reactions when a new Starlight episode was coming up. It also didn't help that there were two episodes that raised my hopes of at least one interesting aspect that would of been cool to see. The first being the episode "All Bottled Up" which I had hoped would mean it would be an episode that's somewhat genie related. And then there was Road to Friendship where Starlight and Trixie try to travel to Saddle Arabia (which is an important location in I Dream of Twilight Sparkle)... and yet never actually get there. So even on the few times that I was hoping to be excited about a Starlight episode, it dropped the ball. Partly my fault for getting so hyped about something that wasn't promised, but I would of loved to at least SEEN canon Saddle Arabia.

I'd never say that I hated Starlight back during the show's run. But she was a frustrating character for certain back then. I couldn't hate Starlight as much as some others did, but at the same time I couldn't like her as much as others. She was in likability limbo. For every fun and or good moment that included her, it's brought right back by either lingering problems that arised from the Season 5 finale or otherwise dropping the ball in some way.

In some ways, she's still a frustrating character. Though that's just how it'll always be with the canon Starlight. It's up entirely now to fanon to give their approach on Starlight that was never done in Canon. With SOTDT, I obviously did a bit of a "Fine, I'll do it myself" when it comes to making Starlight a more satisfactory character for me. Though I'm sure there are many interpretations that are vastly different from how I approached it that can satisfy others and probably be more popular and better written then mine. (My interpretation might be understandably controversial just for Starlight being put back on a path where she'll likely become an Alicorn eventually. Something Starlight detractors feared the most. Though I think I at least try to explain as best I could that makes sense with the story, her cutie mark moment being similar to Twilight's, and the identity of her mother. And I myself sort of feared Starlight becoming an Alicorn might happen, so for me to actually write it so that it might be inevitable. That's just how much of a 180 I've taken on Starlight because of writing SOTDT)

I think I mentioned this before, but I can pretty much say that in a way that I can actually say I like Starlight now. But sort of in a "FiM's biggest missed opportunity" sort of way that it becomes sort of sad to look at how canon Starlight was done. Rather then me simply shrugging her off back when I didn't care so much about her. I also understand it's a bit cheating to say I like Starlight now after doing my own sort of fanfic that had her in a major role since that might be me tooting my own horn a bit.

Though I will say as much as necessary that I am very aware alot of what happens in SOTDT would have been impossible to do in canon and I don't plan on pushing what I did to expand on Starlight's backstory as gospel. It only applies to what I'm doing on the blog, I will not be making a case that my interpretation is the only correct one. I'd actually welcome seeing some different interpretations on things such as who Starlight's mother is, what they feel her past was like outside of the Sunburst leaving incident, and/or especially how Starlight originally got her cutie mark. (I've even said my personal guess is different then how I did it in SOTDT, as my guess is she got it the first time she discovered the cutie mark removal spell). Cause if nothing else, I've realized Starlight is a very interesting character that I think would be fun to explore all the possibilities with. It certainly could be something for those still on the G4 train to talk with one another about.