...actually she had it from the moment she stepped out of that anomaly;)

For The Ages

Jughead is crazy nervous about the thing currently weighing down his pocket.

A/N: okay so I’ve been on a chick-flick spree which resulted in this cheese-filled one shot. Fair warning: this has copious amounts of fluff and zero smut. Thanks for reading!

“You okay, Jug?” Betty asked, eyeing her apparently too-nervous-for-words boyfriend as he shuffled on his feet, unable to stay still.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just a bit chilly, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked and she shrugged, thankfully not asking for his jacket as they walked down the empty streets of Riverdale. It had been a while since they had come back here. After everything that had happened with Jason and Fred and Cheryl, Jughead and Betty couldn’t wait to get out of this small, once-perfect town. The only people they missed were their families – but Riverdale itself they were all too ready to bid goodbye to (well maybe except to Pop Tate).

“It’s weird being back here, isn’t it? Being alumni in Riverdale High and everything,” Jughead said, as they turned a corner. Betty’s smile was laced with nostalgia as she smiled at the empty streets. Riverdale had become even smaller since their leaving. It seemed most of the town had a similar idea about the safety of Riverdale following all the chaos that had happened.

“Yeah. I mean, I know this town wasn’t ever really safe but it still makes me feel… safe – is that weird?”

“It’s understandable,” Jughead said, slipping his hand into hers and intertwining their fingers. She smiled up at him.

“So, remind me why you wanted to come to Riverdale, again?”

“I told you! My dad wanted to see us.”

“Your dad wanted to see you.

“Betty, by this point, I’m pretty sure he loves you more than he loves me. When you went to get the pie, he wouldn’t stop talking about you. It was actually borderline creepy,” Jughead said, rolling his eyes. Betty chuckled as they walked past the newly constructed mall, where the drive-in had once stood. They looked at it and sighed. It was so out of place in Riverdale. The fanciness of a mall was unnecessary and stood out as too glamorous in the quiet neighbourhood. The couple eyed it distastefully.

“I mean, I guess it adds a new layer…?”

“It’s hideous, Betty,” he replied matter-of-factly and Betty had to agree.

“It really is the nail in the coffin that is Riverdale, isn’t it?” She echoed his words back at him and he grinned at her.

“Don’t remind me, Cooper. It was a dark time for me,” Jughead said, although they both knew he had written almost too many articles about his beloved drive-in since. Of course, they had all remained on his laptop – god knows people in New York couldn’t give less of a shit about a tiny drive-in closing in Riverdale and the sentiments it awakened in one of the best investigative journalists in the city. Besides, publishing articles about the drive-in sort of went against the whole good riddance feeling.

Betty glanced at her watch:

10:00 p.m. it read and she frowned. Jughead wanted to go to see Pop Tate (apparently the drive-in wasn’t where the sentimentality ended) but surely he would know that the diner would be closed right now. After all, he had basically lived there for a major part of his life.

“Jug, are you sure Pop Tate’s going to be up this late?” She asked as they managed to tear their eyes away from the anomaly that was the mall and continue their stroll.

“I told him I was coming so yes, I think he’ll stay open. Especially since I gave him the most business he’s ever had,” he said, wearing this accomplishment like a badge of honour. Betty raised an eyebrow at this in amusement, flustering him.

“What? He told me. He even had my picture put up in the diner when we left,” he said, although his ears were turning a little red. His mentioning the day they left brought back a flood of memories to Betty. Jughead and her had managed to get into universities in New York while Veronica and Archie were separated by an ocean – Archie was going abroad to study music. But, in their case, distance did make the heart grow fonder, it seemed. Betty and Jughead soon found themselves to be academic rivals which somehow only seemed to make their relationship stronger.

They were the couple that wasn’t meant to last. The couple that was running on “borrowed time” (as Jughead so eloquently put it in a fit of anger). And yet, here they were, seven years later – walking hand-in-hand as if they’d just gotten together last week.

Isn’t this what people like us – who have gone through what we’ve gone through – do?”

For the second time Jughead’s words echoed in Betty’s head. It made her smile to see where they were. Walking in the same place where they had started. It brought a smile to her face which Jughead noticed.

“What is it?”

“The last time we did this, there was a killer on the loose,” she replied and he laughed.

“I mean, statistically speaking, there is probably at least one right now, too.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“It’s nice,” he agreed and she smiled, adjusting her hand in his.

They approached the diner. It had somehow remained the only constant in Riverdale. The sign was still lit up and the warmth from within welcoming as they entered. The jukebox was already playing softly when they walked in and Betty sighed, allowing nostalgia and a real feeling of home wash over her as she inhaled the familiar scent of burgers and coffee. You had to look closely to see any changes – the booths were slightly more worn, the jukebox dustier, the floor holding a few more stains – but it remained more or less the same. Jughead hung back to shut the door behind them as Betty walked forward towards their regular booth.

“Where’s Pop Tate? In the–” she stopped short when she turned around to face Jughead. With both hands, he was holding a small black box. It was unassuming but Betty stood with bated breath.

Somehow she hadn’t seen this coming.

But now that she thought about it, it all made sense: the nervousness, the insistence on going to the diner, Jughead constantly feeling his pocket throughout the evening.

“Betty Cooper,” he began and then paused and Betty saw tears form in his eyes. She stood there frozen, waiting.

“Betty Cooper,” he began again after swallowing a few times, “you have been everything to me. For seven years, you have been my rock, my support system, and the only person who has believed in and stood by me through thick and thin. When I told you my dad wanted us to come to Riverdale that wasn’t strictly true. Well, actually it was true – he did badger me to come,” Betty let out a laugh at this and only then was aware of tears in her own eyes, “but I more wanted to meet your family. Not your dad – couldn’t care less about him – but I wanted to meet Polly. I wanted to meet Polly so I could ask her if I could–” he paused again, words apparently failing him. Betty took a step towards him, raising her eyebrows, asking him to continue.

He swallowed again.

“Not that I need anyone’s permission or that you’re anyone’s to give away. But I spoke to Archie who spoke to Veronica, who spoke to Kevin and they told me that I should talk to Polly. I know it’s old-fashioned but you know, it’s me – I’m an old soul. Sorry, I’m rambling,” he said, looking away and hastily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Betty gave another laugh at this.

“It’s just… I never thought I would ever get… well, this. I never thought I could ever be so lucky. I never thought I would be lucky enough to meet my soulmate. Good god, this sounds cheesy as hell, doesn’t it? Sorry. I guess what I’m saying is: Betty Cooper, I had been irrevocably in love with you for the last seven years of my life and they have, without doubt been the best seven years a man could possibly hope for. With that said, would you do me the absolute honour and privilege of being my wife?”

She slowly came closer and, placing her hands on his cheeks –


And she kissed him.

No matter how unexpected this had been, she realised, in that moment, that she didn’t even have to think about what her response was going to be. It had always been there – at the tip of her tongue just waiting to be said. 

After all, their love was one for the ages.


(A/N):ugh, this is so had, I’m so sorry

Request: Um…Can I request a Scarlett Johansson x female reader x Elizabeth Olsen soulmate imagine where the reader is a fan and she has two soulmate tattoos, which means she has two soulmates and she realizes both Scarlett and Elizabeth are her soulmates?

Warnings: swearing

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah

Originally posted by ilmiosupereroefallito

Originally posted by margots-robbie

   You tugged at your sleeves, willing the material to cover the tattoos you had printed up your arms. One of them said “(Y/N)’s a nice name” and the other said “That’s not possible," 

   Usually people only had one tattoo, one mate, one mark but it wasn’t entirely unheard of for someone to have two marks. Infact, your two favorite actors, Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsend had two marks, one for each other, and another for some other person. You did feel a little connection to them knowing that you shared the same anomaly as them (as nerdy as that sounded). You thought it was absolutely darling that your two favorite people on the face of this earth were actually each others soulmates. 

   Sometimes when you were a teenager you’d hoped that the other marks were for you, that maybe you were their other soulmate but you quickly grew up and realized how stupid that was. 

   "Okay, we have time for one more question,” Scarlett smiles at the crowd. Everyone was desperate to ask a question but you had been told at the beginning of the panel that you’d be the last question so on shaking legs you walked towards the mike, just a few feet away from Lizzie and Scarlett. 

   "Hi- um I’m (Y/N),“ You wave at the two, so nervous that you didn’t even recognize the change in their facial expressions. 

   ”(Y/N)’s a nice name,“ Scarlett suddenly whispers into the mic, completely catching you off guard. 

   The words don’t even seem to click for you for a moment, you were quite honestly shocked at her words and what she meant by them but then you quickly remembered the words on your arm, those same exact words. You look at your sleeves to make sure they’re all the way down, making it impossible to see the tattoos and sure enough your sleeves were in fact all the way down. There was no possible way for Scarlett to have seen those words unless- unless she was your soulmate. She gives you this warm smile and a playfully little wink, sending your stomach fluttering wildly. 

   "Wait- that’s not possible,” Elizabeth holds her hand up, looking between you and Scarlett. “Those words…how did you know those words?" 

   "Um…it’s my name?” Elizabeth looks at you, gulping as she does. 

   "Let us see your arms,“ You look back at the crowd who all looked as confused as you, maybe even a bit scared. It was a rare occasion that Elizabeth would end up speaking harshly, and when she did you knew you had Fucked up.

    You hesitantly step away from the microphone, tugging your sleeves up as you approach the table. Both girls lean forward, inspecting the words printed on your arms. You felt so vulnerable up here all alone, especially with your soulmate marks revealed. Soulmate marks were a very personal matter- it was more than rare to see someone walking around boasting their marks, which is exactly why you felt so vulnerable as both Lizzie and Scalrett traced their fingers along the small black lettering on your arms. 

   "Oh my god,” Scarlett breathes out as she looks at you, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. “Oh my god, you’re my soulmate," 

   "And mine too,” Lizzie whispers in pure shock, staring at your mark dumbfoundedly. 

   "Get up here and come hug me,“ Scarlett releases a watery chuckle as she opens her arms wide, inviting you into her embrace. You smile as you hop on stage, wasting no time hugging Scarlett. 

   Her arms hold you tightly, her face buried in your neck. It felt foreign and familiar all at once, it felt comfortable and warm, it felt like home. You smile widely, tears now burning at your eyes as you burrow into Scarlett as though your life depended on it. The crowd cheers loudly, whistling, clapping, all cheers of happiness for the three of you. 

   Suddenly two other arms wrapped around you, Lizzie’s. She was warm too, and familiar and foreign, she was home too. You sigh softly as each woman hugs you tightly, their faces nuzzled against you.

    "We’ve been waiting for you,” Scarlett whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your neck as she does.

    “Took you long enough to get here,” Lizzie adds, kissing the tip of your ear as she does. 

   You sigh softly, relaxing in what felt like the first time in forever. Yep, you were finally home.

That Night In New Mexico. (Chapter One)

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader. (Eventually)

Summary: Y/N Lewis never thought that she would meet a Norse god, much less be the soulmate of one. Nor did she think that her sister would be the soulmate of some agent at equipment stealing FBI type “company” called S.H.I.E.L.D. But hey, who said life was easy?

A/N: I got this idea a while ago while watching Thor, and I’m finally writing it. This part is just a copy of the novelization, besides the added character - Reader - and the whole soulmate concept, but in future chapters it will all be original. Also, this chapter focuses more on Jane.

Sorry for any typos!

Warnings: Hitting people with a car by accident?

Word Count: 4,541. (Ow)

The desert air was dry and still. In the small town of Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, the stores were closed for the night, and the houses were quiet. The local residents were tucked inside, eating dinner or watching television. Parked in the only street that led in and out of town was an old, beat-up Pinzgauer utility vehicle. A young woman sat in the driver’s seat, staring out at the desert just beyond, while next to her, an older gentleman read through various papers on his lap.

The van started up and headed out of town into the dark desert. For a while, there was only the sound of the wind through the open windows and there occasional beep from the computers.

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Fisherman’s Knot Chapter 17


[Title Songs]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5][Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13][Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16]

Warnings for abuse and also a lot of internalized victim-blaming.

Thanks as always to @thesnadger for beta-ing, thanks to @marypsue for helping me work out some plot snarls, and thanks to all of you for your readership, comments, and patience.

The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Ford’s breath caught in his throat. His mind reeled, searching for an excuse, a bluff, anything to get them back on track. Stan could have managed it. Perhaps under different circumstances Ford could have too. If that smile wasn’t so familiar. If the grip on his wrists wasn’t so tight. But try as he might, his mind remained blank.

“I … don’t know what you mean,” he said.  His tone hovered somewhere between confusion and bravado. It wouldn’t fool anyone.

He should have brought a weapon. Something to remember for next time, if there was one. Note to self: don’t listen to children who complain about how a high-caliber plasma blaster would ruin the outline of his suit.

“Tell me, Stanford,” said Doctor Smith. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“No?” Ford replied. You look like a triangle, he thought, and almost giggled at how absurd that would sound if he said it.

“Really?” Doctor Smith straightened up and stood back, crossing his arms. “Then how did you expect me to fall for your transparent little scheme? Did you think I wouldn’t suspect?”

“I … suspect what?” said Ford. He could feel his heart picking up, a drumbeat of terror slicing straight through him. Did he know? Did he suspect? If he knew where Nuala’s skin was truly hidden … if Stan was in danger—

“I knew what you were here for from the beginning. You wanted to steal Sarah away from me!”

“That’s preposterous!” Ford blustered, hoping that he could pass the quaver in his voice off as anger. “Now unhand me or I—”

Doctor Smith laughed, and it was cultured and germane and terrible as his situation was Ford felt himself breathing easier. It wasn’t a cackle. It wasn’t like—he almost thought “his Bill” and felt the bile rise at the back of his throat. It wasn’t like Bill Cipher. This was just a man. No more powerful than him.

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title: Recognition (2/8)

rating: T, (M in later chapters)

summary: Soulmate trope AU. Set in a world where humans and elves coexist.

a/n: so grateful for the comments and interest in this fic. thank you guys so much, you truly have no idea how much your kind words bolstered my confidence when posting fic to such an amazingly talented (sometimes intimidating) fandom. you can expect CH. 3 on Wednesday

On AO3


The food was light, all sorts of mousse and delicate earthen tastes typical of Elven food. The drinks were bubbly and sweet, the music even more so. It’s like a party in the clouds, Emma mused to herself.

Henry and Gracie were having a magnificent time, drawing fond looks from the elders. Emma purposely ignored the disapproving looks of one or two of them, who no doubt found the close quarters of an elven child and a human one uncouth.

Even Jefferson seemed to be enjoying himself in his odd way, leading her in a dance. He was surprisingly bad at it (or perhaps she was simply a terrible partner), so they’d had just that one. For most part, Emma was content to watch.

Halfway through the night, the same clink that had resounded in the town hall vibrated across the room, and all eyes instinctively turned to the dais of Noble Elves.

“It is with great pride, that the our family welcomes back our youngest son, Prince Killian Aearinön, to fair society.”

A dark haired man stepped forward, dressed in a brilliant dark blue tunic. Emma was surprised to see that unlike the rest of the smooth skinned elves, this one had dark hair covering his jaw, much like that of a human man. She hadn’t even known elves could grow facial hair.

He was easily more handsome than his father or brother, something otherworldly about his tipped ears, sharp jaw and tall frame. He was nodding, meeting the gazes of people around the room in acknowledgement, a tight smile across his lips.

It was his eyes, however, that stopped time.

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For The Heart Can Still See: Part Four

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T (for themes)

Summary: Dimaria may have stolen her vision, but could not her pride. Sightless or not, Lucy would save Natsu. A what-if, canon-deviant multi-shot, assuming Lucy had indeed been blinded by Dimaria, set in the ongoing Alvarez war arc.

Genre: Angst and romance

Warnings: Spoilers for chapter 503 onwards, mentions of torture in initial chapters. 

Note: Gentle reminder (to myself mostly) that this was supposed to be one. drabble.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Natsu was running before he even realised, despite being painfully aware he was never going to make it.

That she wasn’t ever going to make it.

Lucy may have been touched by the worst curse known to mankind, but that did nothing to change his urge to be by her side, to still try and save her.

A few steps in though and he felt an elbow hook around his neck, immediately ceasing his movement and pushing him onto his butt.

“Gray!” Natsu choked, “What the - ”

He was immediately blinded, before wave after wave of wind, dust and debris began hitting him. He held his arms up against it, squinting to get a look at what was happening, looking for Lucy, but all he could see was  horridly bright light that threatened to burn out his retinas.

There wasn’t much time to spare over the whats and whys though, because the next thing he registered was agonised screaming that tore through the chaos.

Lucy’s agonised screaming.

Brandish fought off another Alvarezian soldier with a heavy heart. It didn’t feel right attacking her own people - especially when they looked at her with such accusatory eyes. ‘Traitor,’ they seemed to scream. But she knew when her own people were in the wrong. Well, at least she hoped she knew.

She was distracted from her thoughts thanks to a palpable change in the atmosphere. She, much like everyone else in their group, turned towards where the odd sensation seemed to be emanating from, barely registering the wind girl’s gasp as her own jaw dropped.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen.

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What: Mafia!BTS AU
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (+surprise later)
Words: 3k+


{A huge thank you to @vivacioustae​ my saviour and angel who literally sat and edited the first chapter with me, anything shitty in this fic is the sole result of my impatience and frustration, mostly at the end. Can’t thank you enough Jaz!}

{Also huge shoutout to my forever fic and life beta, @littleemptyspaces. God knows how many stupid things you’ve saved my ass from in the last 6.5 years}

(Previous Chapter)

“I bet you can’t outrun me!!” “Nuh-uh, I bet I could! You’re a girl, you can’t run as fast as me!!” “Girls can do whatever boys can!! Try and beat me!” the voices you heard were distinct although at a distance. Y/N found herself in the midst of a meadow, your ears filled with the sounds of a gushing stream nearby and the excited shrieks of two children who were playing at its banks. How did you manage to get here? A smile crept on your face, something about this scene was so familiar, so comforting that all your pain had instantly numbed.

Chuckling to yourself a little, you watched the young boy push the girl playfully and run away laughing. His amusement turned to guilt when he saw her bending over and sobbing and he ran to her to make sure all was ok. This was just what she needed as she used the distraction to beat the boy in their competition. You let out a loud laugh, which was something you hadn’t done for a long time. You hoped the children wouldn’t be scared off by the crazy laughing lady who was spying on them, but they didn’t seem to notice.

You basked in the beautiful weather and peaceful surroundings, enjoying this reprieve when, in an instant, the weather took a drastic turn and thundering clouds covered every bit of the wonderful sunshine. You frantically tried to make your way to the children, strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. You must protect the children, that feeling wouldn’t leave you. As you ran towards them, a hand appeared from the sky and snatched the little girl from the ground. She began to wail immediately and the little boy tried to save her from this monstrosity but he wasn’t strong enough to prevent the hand from taking the girl away. You should do something, anything, but you were entranced by the ring you saw on the hand. It was Papa’s ring.

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purpleandpinkhouses  asked:

Hey there! How do you feel about these prompts? Feel free to pick and choose what you feel. No pressure. 1. Rosvolio find out they actually have alot in common (their difficult guardians etc) 2. Benvolio creates something for Rosaline. 3. Benvolio gives Rosaline something that belonged to his mother. 4. Rosvolio on their wedding night. Thanks so much!

“What is that noise?”

Rosaline looks up from her book at Livia sitting next to her. She frowns slightly, confused as to what could have disturbed her sister’s thoughts, before she hears it too – the small sound of a pebble against her window. Both sisters share a look before they stand as one and run toward the balcony. Rosaline lets out a disbelieving huff of breath at the sight of Benvolio beneath her window, while Livia groans a little.

“Rosaline, Rosaline, let down your hair,” he singsongs with a grin.

“Montague, what are you doing?” Rosaline looks above her shoulder quickly, then down the street. She may not be fond of the man, but it doesn’t mean she wants her cousins to murder him the moment they find him in the gardens. Before they see how close to the vine Romeo climbed he is.

“I wanted to see you before tomorrow.”

Rosaline’s heart drops in her stomach at the thought. Tomorrow. The wedding they can no longer postpone nor cancel, for they still haven’t found their common enemy and have run out of time. Reading was but a distraction from things to come, and Benvolio only serves as a painful reminder that tomorrow she will be free from her aunt’s scorn, only to become a Montague wife.

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“Mulder? Are you in here?”

Her heart is still racing from the mix of adrenaline and fierce, fierce hope. Could he really be back? Is he moments from stepping out of the shadows and wrapping her in his arms and telling her everything is going to be okay? Her entire body is bowstring-taut with anticipation as she listens for any sign of movement within the apartment.

When her gaze lands on the desk, on the space where her laptop is now conspicuously absent, the sight is so unexpected that she stares in disbelief, the truth of the situation not really hitting her fully until she physically walks over and picks up the disconnected power cables. That’s when she knows, for certain, that of course it was too much to hope for.

Whoever her landlord saw, it wasn’t Mulder.

Something in her deflates, and all at once she feels shaky and nauseated again. She barely makes it to the bathroom in time, but it doesn’t even matter; nothing comes up. Unsteadily, she sits on the edge of the bathtub and rests her head in her hands. Is this how her body is going to respond to every strong emotional moment now?  

She tells herself it’s her investigator’s instinct that leads her to grab a jacket and keys and head out through the rain to Alexandria. She rationalizes that whoever stole her computer might also want to take Mulder’s and that going to his apartment might either help her catch them or prevent it from happening. Her decision has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that misses him so badly the thought of spending tonight alone in her own bed is suddenly unbearable.

(It’s not as though she will be any less alone at his place. The very notion of feeling closer to him merely by surrounding herself with his belongings is completely irrational.)

Calm determination sustains her for the drive over, her resolve only slipping momentarily once she’s standing in front of his apartment door, force of habit and muscle memory causing her to tap out their knock against the wood. The sound makes her breath hitch, and she can’t help the irrational surge of hope that somehow this has all just been a terrible dream.

But of course there is no answer, and she swallows back the bitter disappointment as she pulls out his key and unlocks the door herself.


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My Knight of Hell- Demon!Dean Part 21

Warning: Smut


Part 21

I rolled over and felt Dean shift beside me. I moved to lay on top of him and he wrapped his arms around me. I took a deep breath and smiled at his scent that filled my nose. I let out a satisfied hum and his hands began kneading my ass. The fact I was in my underwear and that was it made it feel a lot nicer than through a tight pair of jeans. I felt my body relax into his as he continued. His lips pressed against my forehead as his hands slid under the fabric.

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Mythbusters - or rather, Vox Machina

Anyway, after this post happened, I didn’t stop thinking about it. So like have some Vox Machina Mythbusters shenanigans.

“That can’t be true.”

It’s the comment that launched a hundred episodes (so far) and led to Percy and Keyleth meeting the most important people in their lives, their gathered and cobbled-together family, but in the moment, it only prompts Percy to kick the leg of his desk and send his chair rolling backward. He knocks into Keyleth’s desk, chair back first, with a gentle tap, having long ago memorized the amount of force needed to get his rolling chair across the room without slamming into things.

“What can’t be true?” Percy would normally ignore Keyleth’s habit of talking to herself, but frankly, crunching the numbers for packing enough explosives to make a car crash look properly ‘badass’ for the umpteenth action flick is giving him a migraine. He’ll take the distraction.

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The Anomaly

So I saw this comic and this comic by @moringmark and well, let’s just say I couldn’t sleep because my shipping brain was going on overdrive last night. Haha. Oh. Also this has a bunch of the details from this ship war au. I might keep going with this story because I’m trash and I have a few other ideas I’d like to carry out haha especially since I left a few intentional gaps. Have I caught your attention? I hope I have! So I hope whoever reads this likes it and yeah, this is the first fanfiction I’ve actually written that isn’t about my friends (hahaha).

Part II


“Jackie Lynn Thomas! Step away from my father.” 

Elizabeth glared at the girl who seemed moments away from planting an unwanted kiss on her future dad, her wand smoking from the blast she had just sent their way. She’d rather stick her head up Glosseryk’s butt than watch her dad end up with that good for nothing Jackie Lynn Thomas. She was the cause of her mother’s insanity.

“No. You stay away from my parents.” 

Elizabeth barely had time to react before a blue laser came out of nowhere, aimed straight at her heart. Acting on instinct from years of training, Elizabeth quickly deflected the beam with the sword she had inherited from her grandfather. She scanned the area, her eyes meeting a pair of green eyes and the barrel of a laser gun. 

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Lament of The Dead


Rating: T

Summary: A banshee in the woods gets a surprise visitor.

Or - Stan Pines pushes his luck and for some reason death omens seem to have a soft spot for him.


AN: This may end up being a series but not for now. Just the one off. This all started from @notllorstel‘s joml au that I accidentally ended up adding a banshee to in a headcanon post o.o should I tag this as a different au? most probably…anywho! hope you enjoy ♥


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Mann Co. Dance

So Zazzles45 sent me this cool idea for a dancing headcanon, and I’ve also been getting a lot of requests to do another fic, so I thought I’d combine the two to create what you are hopefully about to read. (A/N to Zazzles45: I 

Because of some recent, and most likely illegal, battles going on in Tuefort, the citizens have begun to complain about the Mercs and Mann Co. The Administrator obviously can’t have this getting in the way of her master plan, so she puts on a charity dance. The two teams are forced to learn how to dance together, which causes a lot of friction… especially when a few of the team members seem to get too close with their enemies…

*cough*Sniper and Spy*cough*

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I haven’t talked about the Fringe finale in a while, so hey, let’s do it - esp given like the semi-recent trend of works wrapping up in a Cheesy Domestic Mess - probably 10 popped into your mind right now.

In so many of these Life Or Death! shows, manga, books, etc. we somehow oversimplify everything with a timeskip & domestic life.  Every woman’s a homebody & everyone’s hooked up with someone else.  Kids are everywhere. Things are peaceful.  Loose plot point are loosely tied.

I’ve been pissed off at SO MANY of these “endings” because… they seem so… lazily constructed.  Uh uh uh shit how do I end the story?  OKAY LET’S MAKE MARRIAGES & FAMILIES & MAKE SHIPPING WARS WORSE NAILED IT GOT IT.

But the “domestic” ending WORKS for Fringe, specifically for Olivia.  & for a lot of critical fans who say that it’s contrary to Olivia’s character…. 

… um… you might want to analyze Olivia again.

TL / DR: Given the struggles Olivia has had to overcome [insecurity over womanhood, motherhood, & relationships] a “domestic” ending is so rewarding. In the finale, Olivia FINALLY, after 5 aching seasons of self-loathing, self-doubt, & self-harm, Olivia loves herself.  Olivia values herself, & all that comes with that.  Olivia finally views herself as being “good enough” - a good enough woman, wife, & mother.  A “domestic” ending is deserved.

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anonymous asked:

27 with go-go and trans girl honey lemon!

Gogo shifted uncomfortably, tugging down her shirt. It was actually Honey’s shirt, which meant it was functionally a dress, and fell to her knees. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, the full length one Honey insisted was a necessity when they’d decorated the apartment, when they’d moved into their own place.

She’d thought that had been a big change at the time. Now she placed a hand over her stomach and tried to figure out how to feel. The future was a big swirl of uncertainty. Her parents had already long disowned her, first for loving girls, second for marrying – she refused to even think the words they’d called Honey. Both of Gogo’s sisters had been worse about it. Isolation, the feeling of being stranded, threatened to creep over her and overtake Gogo. Instead she tried to recall what she could about Honey and kids. She liked them well enough, she thought they were cute, but did she want one of her own this early into their marriage? Did she want this one, this random kid growing inside Gogo they never planned? They were employed, sure, but they were superheroines and San Fransokyo wasn’t the safest of places. Could they really raise a kid here?

Woman up, she told herself, grabbing ahold of the door handle. You can do this.

The door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and she stepped out into the empty bedroom, the bed made and the sounds of Honey in the kitchen telling her where she’d find her wife. For a moment Gogo considered trying to get dressed in her usual style, trying to put on the battle armor that was her tomboy clothing, and then she just forced herself forward like a dead woman walking. They’d had a plan. They weren’t even going to discuss children until they were fully settled in, until they’d looked at some houses and gotten better jobs. And Gogo was on the pill. This was a scientific anomaly, one she hadn’t considered. She knew Honey didn’t want to change certain parts of her anatomy, that she was scared of surgery and felt it unnecessary, and as bumbling and awkward as they’d been when they first got intimate, she was past that. That was not the issue here.

Gogo just wished she had family to talk to. She wanted to call someone and talk about it, someone who would understand, another woman. But the only woman she was close to was singing along to a Jamie Kilstein song while she made pancakes, using the spatula as a makeshift microphone. Gogo smiled in spite of herself. Jamie Kilstein And The Agenda was one of those bands Honey would never have listened to if not for her wife, because of the profanity alone, and yet now Honey knew all the words, just like Gogo pretended to hate Honey’s love of Idina Menzel and musicals but could recite the entirety of the musical Chess from memory.

Their lives had merged. Did that mean they could bring a new life into the world and manage it?

“Honey. Honey.” Gogo huffed, annoyed. “Elodia.

The usage of Honey’s real name was always the ‘it’s serious’ signal, and Honey flipped the pancakes over, turned her iPod off and turned to her, tall and graceful and smiling with worry in her eyes. Every time Gogo looked at her, she fell in love all over again. The sunlight caught Honey’s hair like a long halo. And Gogo surged forward, hugging her close in a burst of speed.

“What’s wro-”

“I’m pregnant,” the shorter woman breathed out and in the same breath, “I’m pregnant and post partum depression runs in my family and I don’t know what to do and I’m so sorry and I want to keep it and I don’t know if we can and I-”

“Gogo,” Honey half-gasped, but her wife kept talking, tears forming in her eyes.

“I knew the kind of post partum depression my sisters got, I saw it, they were wrecks, sobbing and dead-eyed and lifeless and I didn’t want to put anybody through that so that’s why I kept saying we’d talk about kids later but now it’s later and we haven’t talked about it-”

“Gogo,” she repeated, gripping the shorter woman’s shoulders. It didn’t help. “Seo-hyeon!

She stilled, mouth open as if ready to launch back into her rambling. Gogo was breathing hard, like she’d run a marathon, her cheeks flushed, her eyes showing a vulnerability she would never have allowed anyone other than Honey to see. Swallowing, she tried to respond, and ended up looking at the floor. “’M sorry,” she managed after a moment.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Honey told her firmly, wrapping her arms around her, anchoring her to the present, banishing the memories to the shadows where they belonged. “It’s okay. It’s unexpected, sure, but it’s okay. There are people we can talk to about the depression, and Fred always said he’d cover a nanny for us as his wedding present, remember? Wasabi’s boyfriend got them a pretty nice place in Sausalito and that was when the market was crap. We’ll call them later. Maybe after we go house shopping we can go clothes shopping. You’re never too young to look good, right?” Her voice was chipper, her expression joyous and concerned at the same time.

“I don’t know how to be a mom,” whispered Gogo, clutching at her abdomen like she could shield the baby from the world. “My mom was always yelling at me about everything, that’s how I learned to not give a damn what people said. I don’t want to pass that on.”

“You won’t. You’re the most stubborn woman I know. If you decide you won’t, then you won’t. So just sit down, and eat some breakfast, okay?”

The superheroine let herself be guided into a chair, fists clenching and unclenching. “The whole team is going to treat me like some delicate flower now,” she grumbled, but there was a weak smile accompanying it, a relief. Honey had answers, she knew people, she was taking it stride. They could do this together. Or at the very least, they could give it their best shot. Gogo shoved down images of her sisters and their utter despair post-birth when the plate of pancakes was placed in front of her. Honey had put the syrup on in the shape of lopsided smiley faces. “I’m surprised you’re not already pinging them on Facebook.”

“That’s for later. Right now I’m just going to text my Mama and Abuela. They’ve been waiting on my brother and I to give them a baby to fawn over,” she grinned, pulling out her phone. “They’ll want you to fly down and visit. Or maybe they’ll come up and visit instead. We could all go out to eat like before the wedding – remember that?”

“Yeah. They, um, they liked me. Us. As a couple. But also me. Would,” she bit her lip for a second. “Would they maybe be willing to give me baby pointers or something?”

“I’ll ask.” Honey kissed her wife atop her head, dotingly. Her smile was brighter than the sun. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

And when she said it like that, framed by the light and love in her eyes, Gogo believed her.

Edited to add: Due to the amount of interest this ficlet has gotten, I am considering writing this out as a full-fledged fic instead of a oneshot. Please let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in.

Also requests are still open so if you’d like more Honey/Gogo or anything else, drop me an ask.