imma write fanfiction

When you get an idea for a fanfic that is so devastatingly angsty and you know it's going to completely wreck your fellow shippers' emotions

Originally posted by plumkat

Faster Than a Telephone Booth

We need some not-angst, rated G

Characters: Cisco Ramon; Barry Allen; Caitlin Snow; HR Wells mention

Word Count: 1943

Summary: Cisco’s been worrying about his suit, but he thinks he has a solution. Work with it - pocket dimensions


When Barry had left the cortex the previous night, he’d left Cisco to puzzle away at his problem by himself. Barry had tried to help and throw out ideas, but eventually Cisco told him that Barry’s efforts were just encouraging HR to try and do the same and frankly if HR didn’t shut up about spandex Cisco was going to “blow a gasket so high the roof would finally break off the godforsaken building”. Cisco agreed after HR went to bed that calling the building “godforsaken” might have been after bit harsh, but at least he wasn’t throwing anything at HR. Yet.

If someone asked Barry a year ago which member of the team would miss Harry the most after he finally shooed off back to his own universe, the last person he would have said was Cisco. Life was funny that way.

Life also felt a bit funny when Barry left only to come back twelve hours and a good night’s rest and a new cup of coffee to-go later to something similar to what he had left but also completely different. Cisco was standing in the cortex, wearing the same pants he’d been wearing the day before. The t-shirt was different, but Cisco kept a rotating stash of t-shirts at just about every one of his major locations. This meant that if you really wanted to judge if Cisco had gone home, you checked his pants, his shoes, and/or his over-shirt. Cisco’s over-shirt was missing (in the middle of winter???) but he had DEFINITELY been wearing the same pants the day before. The purple ones were a little hard to miss.

He was also standing in his socks.

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anonymous asked:

Mate, I saw your response to an anon and I just wanted to say, shipping isn't about saying well, imma use BBC Sherlock bc it's relevant, it's not saying "John secretly hates mary" lts more like idk 'i just think these two would be cute together so imma write fanfiction about them' and not hating on other people. No hate just like, it's not fact it's fiction and 'they'd go well together'

I don’t “ship” Johnlock it’s just the way things are; and it didn’t begin w/ BBC Sherlock

stormpilot gym au. poe is the yoga instructor at the gym finn frequents.

Finn might be a little bit in love.

Rey whacks him with her yoga block. “Stop mooning over him from across the room and go over there, then!”

He scowls. “I have a system,” he insists. “Lift weights, run on the treadmill, creep on the yoga instructor for exactly the length of ‘Whip It!’ and that’s it . Anything else is just… pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic is switching gyms because you saw Poe’s downward –”

“Hey! Resistance has much nicer locker rooms than Starkiller Bod, okay? And it’s closer to my bus line. It’s just economical, is what it is.” That, and he wasn’t sure he could handle Phasma’s overbearing training schedule anymore. Three upper body days in a row is how you got hurt. Poe had nothing to do with switch. Nothing .

“I don’t understand you,” Rey says, deftly moving into a perfect warrior pose flow. She gives him a thoughtful look. “He looks over here, you know.”

“Don’t switch tactics on me, Rey,” he says. He’s perfectly happy thinking he doesn’t stand a chance with Poe Dameron, because zero chances meant zero opportunity to stick his foot in his mouth. Something, he’s been told, he excels at. “And anyway, if he’s looking at anyone over here , it’s you.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs. “He keeps his class an extra ten minutes in shavasana whenever you’re by the windows – and he walks around, helping , as if anyone needs help lying on their backs…”

“Maybe he likes to optimize nap time,” he says, though the excuse sounds weak even to his own ears. Could he –? No, there’s no way. “I mean, it’s not like he even knows who I am. I’m just some guy that works out at his gym and maybe pays a little too much attention to the yoga room when he’s around.” He pauses. “A reputation that, now that I think about it, is very, very unflattering.”

“Come to a class with me,” Rey says, after a long moment.

He narrows his eyes, instantly suspicious. “Why?”

“Partially because one – ‘I consider touching my toes a serious win’ is not something I ever want to hear you say again,” she says, bending into a forward fold. “And two – I want to prove you wrong. Come to tomorrow’s session. Let’s see what Poe does. I’m not a gambling woman, but I’ll bet you lunch he’s into you.”

The problem with having Rey as his best friend is that she’s imperceptibly good at convincing him to do things he normally wouldn’t do, which is how he finds himself calling her bluff by waking up altogether too early for Poe’s morning session the very next day. It’s cold out, and he nearly breaks his back on black ice on his walk in, but he makes it.

Though, when he sees Poe talking to another trainer by the front desk, he kind of wishes he hadn’t. Because no one – no one – should be allowed to look so good so early in the morning. Perfectly coiffed hair, perfect smile, perfect voice . Someone help me , he thinks. There’s no way he’s going to survive this class.

He sneaks in and immediately spots Rey, who waves him over with a sleepy smile. “Ready to become a human pretzel?” she asks.

“You have more faith in my ligaments than I do,” he sighs, and nearly swallows his tongue when someone chimes in with a cheery, “You’ll do great.”

At the sound of Poe’s voice, Finn feels his stomach swoop. It’s a feeling he normally equates to the moments before his greatest foot-in-mouth moments, and he crosses his arms in a desperate bid to look cool – chill, relaxed, cool .

“‘Morning, Rey,” Poe says, and to Finn: “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Yeah, no, it’s my first time,” he says, and cringes internally. First time? Get it together, Finn! “Taking yoga, I mean. First time taking yoga.”

“That’s great,” Poe enthuses, and follows it up by squeezing Finn’s shoulder with a grin. He tilts his head. “I have to set up, but – I hope you enjoy yourself. Let me know if you need anything.”

Rey snorts as soon as Poe’s out of earshot. “Just so we’re clear, he’s never done that before.”

Finn ignores her teasing look. “You can’t have possibly been to every single one of his classes,” he replies, catching Poe’s eyes from across the room. They both grin at the same time.

“See?” Rey interjects.

And, for the first time, Finn thinks that maybe he does.

Come to My ship

What is this? I have no clue. It’s a Pirate AU that I wrote a while ago and never posted because I didn’t like how it came. yet, here I am, posting it. I just felt like posting before I post my other 4k AU.

Rated: T

Pairing: NaLu

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 2185


Lucy couldn’t deny it, even if she wished, that her father’s soldiers were persistent if anything. She had already lost track of how long she’d been running by now, but her pursuers seemed to have set their minds to capturing her; it had surely been more than hours since she’d left the town and entered this forest, but the men were still on her tail.

That, however, did not mean she would give herself up—far from that. She would keep running and fighting until the very last breath in her lungs was exhausted. She would not desist after going so far—not after she’d finally escaped the wretched mansion of her father.

The place that had once been a paradise of merry times now jailing her as a prison. The windows and doors no longer a gateways to the adventurous world, the servants no longer friendly and kind, and, the worst of all, her mother no longer alive.

Shaking her head to rid it of sorrowful thoughts, Lucy gasped as she saw light ahead and beyond brambles and trees. The sun might shine brightly in the sky and easily peer past the canopies of leaves above her, but she could easily recognize civilization from afar.

She knew it was a port or a town near the sea; Hargeon if she was correct, and the sound of sails and bells proved her right. The smell salt and water soon hitting her nostrils and urging her to sigh in contentment.

Not yet, she told herself. She couldn’t let herself be appeased yet; her father’s scumbags still chased after her. She would have to do better if she wished to lose them.

With a groan, she sped up her pace, golden hair and navy blue skirt whipping about her as she ran. Her clothing and hair were not corresponding to one of a lady such as her, aiding her in concealing her identity whenever she might reach the town.

Most citizens would dream of being royalty or having noble blood pulsing in their veins, but Lucy wished nothing more than to have been born in a lower class—in an adventurous class. Not the boring and constricting class she had been birthed into.

The sounds of voices and bustling of people then became hearable, and Lucy knew she had reached the town. She swiftly ducked behind a few barrels she saw and patiently waited for the soldiers to run past her.

Once they did, she let out a breath of relief, her gaze traveling to the skies as she finally breathed the smell of the seven oceans. A serene smile overtook her face; Her mother had always told her the tales of those courageous enough to set out into the unknown lands littering the globe as they traversed the sea.

Lucy wished to be one of those. As her auburn orbs were locked into the endless, suave velvets of the skies, she reminisced; she remembered herself as a child, gazing out the window and imagining herself sailing among clouds and stars alike.

And now, she could finally do it - Take a ship and vanish from this forsaken land her father lived upon.

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