i might write fic later

anonymous asked:

How about a Supercorp Groundhog Day AU? Where Lena keeps getting hurt and Kara relives the day until she can save her? Or the other way around?

OH MY GOD WAIT LIKE

Picture Medusa, but things keep going wrong: the first time, Kara tries to stop Lillian too soon, and the bomb goes off, and all of the aliens in National City die as the fiery ashes fall from the missile. But when she wakes up and slowly, sadly flies to the DEO the next day, J’onn is there, alive, and everything seems to be happening all over again.

The second time, she shows up at the wrong place at the wrong time, and Lena gets shot, and Kara nods off while sitting next to her hospital bed, wakes up once again on the morning of Medusa.

This keeps happening, and she just can’t get it right: everyone around her keeps getting hurt. It is a dizzy balancing act of who will I fail next, and each day is another aching scar on her heart.

(I’m sorry, she wants to say. I’m so sorry. But they don’t remember, and explaining is impossible, and Kara knows this is her burden to bear alone.)

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From the Journal of Bucky Barnes

Author’s Note: This might end up being a series depending on how this is received so pls let me know if you like it/if you would want this to continue !!

tag list: @uglyseb @sugardaddychris @punkpeqqy @rogersxbarnesx @hoerogers @sweatyseb @tonystankdelivery @etherealbarnes @stevyrogers

I read somewhere once that if you couldn’t sleep, you should write down whatever’s on your mind and keep it in a journal. Something about it being therapeutic, I guess. I’ve never really been good at writing but, hey, I’ll try anything once. Even if it’s just for fuck’s sake.

I’ve been up for four hours now, just staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you as I shift my weight around on that tiny mattress that by some miracle fits both of us. Reminds me of the times you would get so cold that you’d stuff yourself into my side and stick your cold hands under my shirt for warmth in those winter’s after your ma died. A little heat leech you were but I didn’t care, as long as it got you to stop shivering for the night. Nowadays it’s usually me leaning towards you and trying to get warm, since you turned into a fucking goddamn furnace and I still can’t seem to get that feeling of ice out of my veins. I wonder if you ever feel it too, that feeling of being trapped inside a freezer with no way out. Maybe it’s just me. It’s probably better that way.

I’m afraid to fall asleep.

It took me two whole minutes to build up the courage to write that down. My hand is still shaking.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Everyone thinks that the nightmares are about what happened to me when I was under Hydra’s control, and they’re not wrong. It’s just not the whole truth. I fall asleep knowing that I’m going to dream about all of the awful things I did, all of the things that I can never take back, and it’s enough to make me sick to my stomach. But if they were only that, I’d force myself to fight through it because it isn’t anything that I don’t already think about when I’m awake.

The part that scares me

Steve, I just

I can’t fucking write this I can’t I can’t

I can’t lose you. I can’t bear the thought of going to sleep when I know that in each and every fucking nightmare you’ll be ripped away from me. God, it’s like some kind of unknown torture they implanted in my brain so that even if I could somehow forget everything they taught me, I would still be haunted by dreams of losing you. I know that we spit out all the crap about your soul matching mine and how we could never really lose each other if we’re the same inside, but when it comes down to it, that’s all bullshit.

Steve, if there was no you, there would be no me. If you left the face of this earth, I would crumble into dust and endlessly scatter across the face of this planet in the hope that somehow, in someway, I would find you again. Without you, I wouldn’t just die, I would fall headfirst into oblivion. I wouldn’t just fade away, I would explode. Because our love isn’t a bandage type of love, the one that you can slap on and peel of whenever things are finished. No, our love is industrial steel, slicing through ice and bullies and everything that has tried to pull us apart. It’s more durable that the vibranium of your shield or even my arm, and things that powerful aren’t always in our control. You see, if you were to leave me, that love is strong enough to turn against me and make me pay in ways I can’t even imagine. No torture chamber or terrifying serum would be able to compare to the ways it would rip me apart, picking away at me piece by piece until all that would be left is my heart, still triumphantly beating until the very end of the line for you.

I’m looking over at you right now, as creepy as that sounds, and I can’t help but be scared at the thought of how much you mean to me. How I’m scared that even with all of your strength and fire and that goddamn stubbornness to do what you know is right, something will come along to try and snuff the Brooklyn right out of you. That you’ll finally realize how pure and too good for this world you are, and then look at me with the disgust I rightfully deserve after everything I’ve done. After everything I’ve put you through. And, Stevie, if I could take everything back for just one more night huddled together under that ratted old quilt back in 1939, I would. I would erase every single fucking thing just so that those Brooklyn nights could live just a little longer. So that those two innocent, scrappy young boys had a goddamn chance in this world that so hell bent on turning every diamond into dust.

Because you, Steve, are the brightest diamond I’ve ever seen.

And you deserve so much better than a pile of dust like me.

Last night I dreamed Dipper in his mid-to-late 20s had to take care of Mabel’s 1 and ½ year old daughter after she died in an accident.

Mabel was never married, the baby’s father walked out on them, the Stans were old and still sailing the 7 seas, and Dipper didn’t want his parents to take custody of Mabel’s baby nor did he want her to end up in a foster home, so he impulsively offered to take her in–despite knowing next to nothing about child care.

He moves to Gravity Falls after that. His childhood home. I know Soos and Melody took over the Mystery Shack but for some reason it was vacant and dusty, like someone hadn’t lived there for a few years at least? Maybe Soos and Melody moved somewhere else to raise their kids? I don’t know.

Dipper opens the front door and it’s a sad sight, to see the Shack so dull and dusty. Empty. He walks over to a shelf of pine tree hats and plops a dusty one on his head, admiring himself in the mirror with a small smile that quickly falls. The desolate state of the Shack reflects his grief after losing his sister.

But over time the Shack gains life again, as Dipper and the toddler bond over a series of parenting misadventures. Dipper is always internally panicking and worrying that he’s raising her wrong. He’s alone and he has no idea what the hell he’s doing, but he does his best. For Mabel and her daughter.

Mabel’s baby brings happiness into Dipper’s life. She brightens it in a similar but still different way than Mabel used to brighten it. She looks so much like Mabel. She reminds him so much of Mabel. And it hurts, but it also stirs a need to protect and take care of that he always felt towards Mabel. He wants to see this baby smile. He wants to hear her laugh.

That’s about as far as the dream went, but I’ve got this other scene in mind, of Dipper unpacking boxes shortly after moving into the Shack. Mabel’s daughter is seated on the ground, fiddling with a piece of cardboard. Dipper’s talking to her about how much she looks like Mabel:

“You’ve got her hair, her eyes. Even those weird little hairs that stick up in the back. We could be siblings…except for the incredibly huge age gap between us. That’s kind of out of the ordinary. I could be your dad, but that’s even weirder. Alright, so maybe I’m like an uncle/brother/father hybrid. Yeah. Good thing we live in Gravity Falls, huh, kid? This place is like the island of misfit toys. The home of all things fucked up. Shit, I mean ‘messed up’. I mean, not ‘shit’, crap! I mean…Oh, you know what I mean.”

I also love the idea of Pacifica still living in GF and her and Dip reconnecting after years. They’re both pretty clueless, but Paz helps Dipper be a parent. She brings some happiness into his life too. It doesn’t have to be shippy either, like they could just be friends (but its kind of funny to imagine Mabel matchmaking even in Heaven).

Anyway I thought this was a really heartbreaking/heartwarming idea I’d share with you all.

3

I tried doing an edit using one of the themes for today’s Finnrey Friday, but it wasn’t working out (I might write a fic later!). So I decided since it’s close to Valentine’s day here’s a v quick & v pink edit of the finnrey hug from the comics :) 

mistletoe

this is a (not so short) iwaoi for everyone in the hq!! girls’ defense squad -  @kentuckyfriedbooks, @merrodis, @nonbiryani, @cawgeyamas, @dancesofdarkness, and jules.  merry christmas, nerds!  thank you for being so lovely and supportive and just wonderful to talk to.  I’m proud to be your mom.  ✌

“Oh, my God.  Oikawa.”

“What?”  Tooru whirls around to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Hanamaki, grinning like an old man who’s had five too many beers - which is, actually, not too far from the truth.  Startled by the sudden closeness (Tooru never thought he’d find out what his teammate’s breath smelled like), Tooru takes a step back, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

Oikawa,” Hanamaki repeats.  As though Tooru should know exactly what he’s talking about.  (For the record: he doesn’t.)

What?

Look.”  Hanamaki points across the room.  Tooru follows his finger, past haphazardly strewn decorations and dangerously balanced piles of food supplies, to the doorway.  The doorway, where Hajime is currently standing, hands on hips, directing Kindaichi and Kunimi as they hang some kind of banner.  The team is having their annual holiday party at Hajime’s house this year, and as a result, he took charge of the decorations, claiming that he couldn’t have everyone fucking up and destroying his house.  Tooru thinks he looks kind-of cute - like a bride on her wedding day, insisting that everything be perfect.  (Not that he could ever say that to Hajime’s face.)

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Title: Reunions
Prompt: Day 4 - Swaps
Pairing: Percy/Nico (secondary Jason/Annabeth)
Rating: G
Length: 1,375 words
Warnings: None applicable.
Summary: As the Greek ship descends on New Rome, Nico quietly hopes that his missing boyfriend, Percy, is on board.

The moment that the alarm went through the senate building that a strange Greek ship was flying over New Rome, many of the senators had rushed out to see what was going on. The only ones who were behind the rest were the praetors, Nico di Angelo and the recently elected Jason Grace. Nico, son of Pluto, had mixed feelings about the arrival of the Greek ship, the ship that had come as the Greek-born Jason, son of Zeus, had said it would. Hesitation, confliction, and, perhaps worst of all, hope mingled inside the young praetor, though he wouldn’t dare voice the feelings just yet.

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