just one more fic

“Ah, sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.” Prompto mumbled to his feet after he once again stepped on the prince of Lucis’ toes. 
“Could have fooled me,” Noctis smiled warmly, pulling Prompto closer, “Do they not have balls in Niflheim?” 
Prompto paused, his face falling slightly as he lowered his gaze to the floor “Well…ah, no. Not really.” 

Insomnia welcomes Niflheim into their kingdom will a ball, and although Noctis usually hates any kind of social event, surprisingly this one has become a little more interesting. Another scene I had in mind for my Niflheim prince Prompto AU. I’m planning on drawing a few more things because I’ve received so much encouragement, I hope y’all like angst, cause thats where this AU is headed. 

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

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hi can I get a fuckin uhhhhhhh

badass, accomplished, intelligent leader Lance who is strong in his own right and doesn’t need to be coddled and doesn’t take shit from others AND PEOPLE ACTUALLY LISTEN TO HIM AND RESPECT HIM

the saga of is it a fic or are they headcanons continues.

one | two (THIS ONE!) | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

  • so michelle starts to get buddy buddy with ned and peter, ish.
  • she starts to actually kind of like ned, even if he sometimes puts his foot in his mouth sometimes. but they argue about the merits of comic books as a form of literature and he teaches her some words in tagalog and she learns how to call peter a son of a bitch so she’s pretty entertained.
  • but the weird things just keep piling up with peter.
  • he rushes off at random times, freezes whenever she asks him where he’s going, shows up to school with cuts and bruises looking like he’s been fighting in an underground boxing ring. she even saw him go into the chemistry lab the other day at lunch time even though they both took chemistry last year and he’s taking biology now.
  • he just does really weird things sometimes and michelle can’t help but notice.
  • michelle also can’t help but notice that spiderman is becoming more and more popular. people sell t-shrits, masks, shot glasses, tote bags. everything, basically. and maybe one day michelle might spend a little too much time looking at a t-shirt with a picture of spiderman in all his toned, muscly glory. but she just shakes her head and keeps moving.
  • she gets curious about him, though. where did he come from? who is he? why is he doing this? why did he sound oddly familiar in DC when he saved her friends?
  • and then one day she’s walking home from school after academic decathlon and she missed the bus which is totally her fault for staying later after practice to chat with peter and ned about the upcoming weekend and how their plans to construct a lego version of the starship enterprise were so utterly boring she could barely stand to listen to them. (and weren’t people supposed to choose star wars or star trek? was that not a thing? not that she cares about things peter likes. well, peter AND ned. anyway.)
  • she’s turning a corner when she sees someone out of the corner of her eyes. there is a man on the opposite side of the street walking several yards back from here. it could be nothing. but she’s also been taught to always be on high alert. so she grips her backpack to her body a bit tighter and walks a little faster down the street, cursing herself for not taking the more populated albeit slightly longer route home.
  • she continues down the street when she notices the man cross the street so that he’s on the same side of the road as she and at that point she just starts running. better that he thinks she’s odd if he isn’t following her than be caught if he is trying to catch her. she sprints down the street and turns another corner as she looks back to check if the man is following her and then bam. she’s on the ground, gripping the shoulder that practically crashed into a brick wall.
  • “oh my goodness, are you okay?” she sighs and looks at the owner of the panicked voice and she is left speechless. it’s…well, it’s spiderman.

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Another klance fanfic rec that no one asked for

I’m trying to run away from the reality of real life, where I have to read 40 page chapters on dating soil techniques. Also this has been on my mind for too long and I had to get it out.

Tip the Scales by aleria (T, 27K) –> This is a really cute fic that just has Lance sitting in Egypt by his lonesome self. Also mutual pining, in a fancy gala. 

Black Holes and Revelations by Kima (E, 26K) –> This is a headcannon that I can get behind and I just loved it and honestly I love the idea of demisexual Keith. The smut is in the last chapter so if it’s not your cup of tea, you can skip it. But this fic is really sweet

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The Fic Writer’s Beatitudes

Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.

Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts.
Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done.
Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work.
Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted.
Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy.
Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive.
Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes.
Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight.
Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.

MESSAGE DELIVERED | pt.2

→ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / Namjoon x Reader
→ Genre: fluff, smut, angst, humor
→ Words: 3,182
→ Rated: NC-17
→ Warnings: none in this part
→ Summary: A text message sent to the wrong number turns into a long lasting affair between two people completely opposite one another.
→ Note: So, yeah… here’s the now official part 2! I’m really sorry for the delay, but I hope you’ll like it! :)

Parts: 01 : interim : 02 : coming soon

cr.


━ 12:03pm
It must be because I’m very tired
But ur still hilarious
Night lol

With a heavy sigh, you lean back in your seat, a blush creeping up your cheeks at the realization you probably crossed a line or something with those messages you sent to him on Saturday night. You’d prayed throughout the whole day after you’d get a reply, and when that didn’t happen you’d checked your phone every twenty minutes on Monday and today every time your phone buzzed. It’s kinda lame.

Really, you have no actual reason to be this upset about it.

“Joonie asked me about you today in class”, Jeongyeon says when your professor seems to still be too busy shuffling through his papers to give a damn about what’s going on in his class.

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(long post, sorry)

In spite of everything I love Harley Quinn but, damn, writers treat her so badly. I swear, the temptation to make her actually stupid must be terrible because it’s so often implied, or explicitly stated, that she slept her way through school. First of all, it does not work like that.  Second, she’s not a therapist or a psychologist, she’s a psychiatrist, she’s a fricking MD and a damn young one too. Managing pre-med and collegiate gymnastics that she relied on to keep her scholarship? Harley is fucked up, but she’s not the dumb blonde she plays. (also stop making her stacked, she’s a gymnast. she is 4’11” of pure muscle and is not top heavy)

If you want a good Harley backstory it’s simple. She’s ADHD but medicated and slightly robotic because of it. I want to take special care not to demonize meds but, rather, people’s disapproval of neurodivergence and a lack of focus on what is best for a patient rather than what is most convenient for others. So, maybe, around ten years old Harley is a hyperactive space cadet who’s brilliant at tests but sloppy at coursework, who would be a gymnastics prodigy if she could actually focus on technique and put in practice time instead of fooling around. Then the meds come and it’s actually really cool because she can do the things she needs to do instead of just wanting to do them, doing something else entirely, and getting in trouble. People are proud of her, she’s proud of herself. But now there are expectations. Family and teachers and coaches overschedule her, find worth only in her success and don’t care about her mental health at all as long as she’s performing and castigate her when she does fail. Fuck if you don’t internalize that. But she doesn’t look unhealthy and she’s doing amazing. She actually has to choose between the Olympic trials and continuing her grad studies. She probably has some issues with self-harm but it either doesn’t look like self-harm or is well covered up. 

When Arkham accepts her, fresh from her residency, it’s not a mistake. The woman is amazing. All they can see is a mountain of achievements rather than the seething ball of nerves, self-loathing, and imposter syndrome boiling just under the surface. That’s when Joker comes in. He’s got the Hannibal Lecter shtick down. Where everyone else sees an intelligent driven young woman he sees a frightened overwhelmed girl who is working her hardest to convince the world she’s anyone other than herself. Sending her into a nervous breakdown would be too easy so he doesn’t even bother. Instead he’s open with her, almost friendly. The other doctors are amazed, Harley is amazed, she’s not done anything particularly revolutionary but, for the first time in forever, it looks like the clown prince of crime is showing progress. He unravels her and it’s a challenge, she flinches back and gets very serious when he comes too close to the real Harley under the professional. Still, soon she’s questioning everything. She doesn’t even really like her co-workers. She hasn’t had a real friend in years. She’s forgotten how to have fun. Did she ever want this to be her life or did she just do it for other people? It starts so slowly that it looks, at first, like she’s getting better at self-care. Maybe something totally silly one weekend, a trampoline park where she can enjoy the way her toned body moves without stressing out over landings, a face painting booth at a street fair, some garishly colored downright tacky decoration that clashes with her sensible apartment. Suddenly she realizes how much she hates knowing the difference between cream and ecru. The beigeness of her life is repulsive. She hates the person she’s pretending to be even more that she hates herself which is really saying something.

After her weekend of freedom she would have called in sick if it wasn’t so suddenly important to see him. The relief she feels at talking to one of Gotham’s most infamous supercriminals is disturbing but it is relief and she’s been swallowing a slow-motion panic attack for hours. She admits, though she shouldn’t, that she took his advice about doing something fun and he teases her, what would straight-laced Doctor Quinzel do for fun? Did she realphabetize her sock drawer or buy a new clipboard? It’s not important to impress him, it’s really not. He’s dangerous, cruel, and he looks so proud when she admits that she bought a lamp shaped like a lawn flamingo. The only mistake, he says, is that she should have stolen it. She hopes the wicked thrill it gives her doesn’t show on her face. It does. She almost even laughs. He likes it when he can make her laugh and she likes it when he likes things.

It’s wrong and unprofessional, the relationship she develops, and she knows it but her whole life she’s been so high strung. Nothing she’s done has been for her, she’s not sure she knows how to really do selfish things anymore, but he knows the selfish things she needs to do. It feels good when she follows his advice even when it’s small things like the rainbow striped socks she wears concealed under her very bland slacks and sensible shoes. She’s so happy, almost giddy, and he loves her happiness, he loves her, he loves the real her that she’s had to beat down and hide for so long, the her that even she isn’t able to love. She is able to love him, though, and since he loves her she’s able to love herself for him, to protect and nurture something so important to him.

When the choice comes between her old self, the tedious endless labor of making the world proud, and Him, the spectacular man that brought color into her life, it’s not even a question. She kills Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she throws away the version of her that let herself burn just for medals and hollow accolades. She embraces Harley Quinn and it’s so much a part of her nature she can’t even see that she’s still living her life for someone else’s approval, except this time that person is a murderous clown. She hasn’t let her hair down, she’s just put it in pigtails instead of a bun.

It’s been a busy weekend but I’ve been thinking about Kingsman 2 and Hartwin and things.


Eggsy sees the metamorphosis as it happens. Harry’s back straightens, his shoulders draw back, his jaw sets. His gaze grows bright and sharp with knowledge and his mouth forms Eggsy’s name.

Eggsy’s breath is caught bin a swell of disbelief and joy. Seeing Harry come back to himself feels just like seeing Harry alive for the first time, except now there’s no glass between them, nothing to stop Eggsy from throwing his arms around Harry and pulling him close.

They’ve never actually hugged before, but Eggsy doesn’t hesitate. He needs to hold onto Harry, to feel Harry against him, his whole body, warm and alive and strong enough to survive. Eggsy tucks his head into Harry’s neck and breathes in the scent of Kingsman aftershave and then beneath that, the warm and subtle smell of Harry.

This is also how Harry’s house smelled. Eggsy is hit by a rush of memories: the first time he visited, buzzing with excitement, his breath catching every time Harry looked at him – and then also the long, desperate months after, the painful thrill of surrounding himself with Harry’s things. He had told himself that Tilde would help chase out some of the ghosts, but the bright clean smell of her was never quite enough to overwrite the lingering scent of Harry.

Eggsy closes his eyes and breathes in. The house is gone now, and everything else he and Harry had – but they have each other and it’s hard to care about anything else. Eggsy’s whole body is vibrating with how much he needs this – needs Harry close to him, in his arms, alive. Desperately he turns his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Harry’s neck.

He feels Harry shudder against him, hears him breathe out Eggsy’s name again, barely louder than a sigh. Harry’s hand slides up to curl around the back of Eggsy’s neck, warm and heavy, and a shiver rolls down Eggsy’s spine.

Everything that came before this, all the memories and echoes crowding Eggsy’s head – all of that was only ever meant to be the beginning. It had felt like a beginning at the time, Eggsy’s training and the thrill of being with Harry – it was like the moment you leap from a diving board but you haven’t yet begun to fall, a heartbeat-long rush of anticipation.

For so long, the beginning was all Eggsy had. But now, finally, with the two of them pressed close, Eggsy’s lips on Harry’s skin and Harry’s hand sliding up the nape of Eggsy’s neck, their chests moving with each breath, there’s nothing to stop them from falling together.

quick drabble for the @rebelcaptainprompts theme “stardust” because my mind went here instead of something appropriately sentimental

“Change your password,” Cassian grouches, slumping into the seat opposite her in the U-Wing cockpit. Jyn doesn’t even look up from where she’s readying her blaster.

“Why?”

Cassian flicks the controls, slides his headphones on. “That thing gives you access to all our data files. It needs to be hard to guess.”

“Who says it’s not hard to guess?”

“Me. I guessed it.”

Jyn glares at him, though—and this may say something about their relationship—she doesn’t look all that surprised. “Are you serious? What the hell were you doing, trying to hack my account?”

Cassian shoves the headphones over his ears, turns to glare back at her. “Yes. If I can hack your account, anyone can hack your account.”

“Oh,” Jyn snarls, “so you were doing me a favor.”

“Yep.” Cassian sighs. “Jyn, your password can’t be stardust. It’s so transparent.”

“I added numbers.”

“Your birthday. That doesn’t help.”

Jyn props her feet up on the control panel, despite the fact that Cassian has told her not to do some fifty times now. He has to physically restrain himself from reaching over and swiping them off.

“I can remember it,” she shrugs.

Cassian groans. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s a lot of the point. Look, nobody’s going to guess it.”

“I guessed it!”

“Yeah, you.” She shrugs, frowning. “But you’re the only one on base who knows that name, so…”

This is enough of a surprise that Cassian has to glance over at her; that name—and all the weight associated with it—is so integral to the person she once was, to the person she’s become. It’s hard to imagine her without it.

Jyn’s looking studiously at the laces of her boots.

“Oh.” Cassian swallows. “Just me?”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “Yep.”

“Huh.” He pauses. He can read her well enough by now to know when not to press.

He clears his throat, switches tactics.

“You realize that means I can still hack your account though, right?”

“Yeah.” She waves a hand. “But it’s just you. What are you going to do?”

He huffs. “I could do plenty.”

“You already hacked my account. Did you do anything besides immediately log out and come yell at me to change my password?”

“No,” he glowers. “But next time, I might.”

She reaches over, and the way she pats his knee hovers somewhere between affectionate and condescending. She walks that line well.

“Sure,” she says. “Are we taking off any time soon, or what?”

Cassian rolls his eyes, shifts back to the control panel.

“Be patient,” he grumbles. “I’m working on it.”

When he glances back over at her, quick, he thinks he catches her smile.

Nunchiwrites - Fic Recommendations - ONESHOTS

This is a compilation of my favorite single-stories, scenarios, and oneshots! I think there’s a little something in here for everyone!

Sorted by EXO member~ 

Originally posted by ohyaahkkaebsong

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What I Read This Week

(14/5/17)

I’d to apologize again for not doing this last week! I was really sick and had a few exams, so I didn’t have a lot of time to make lists! 

For the Record by DasWarSchonKaputt, Not Rated, 10k
Viktor Nikiforov, sports journalist and retired figure skater, interviews Olympic Champion Yuuri Katsuki for an exclusive piece. So, so, so amazing. I am truly speechless after reading this, it’s incredible. In my top 10. 

Just Hold On (We’re Going Home) by kiaronna, Mature, 23k
Where Yuuri remembers the banquet, Viktor forgets, and Yakov Feltsman has his own plans. SO AMAZING!! You have to read this!

Sugar High by arekushia, ryoseirui, Explicit, 38k (WIP)
Yuuri Katsuki is a college student struggling to pay rent, tuition, and just about everything else. When he sets up an account for a sugar daddy dating app, he doesn’t expect anything to come out of it. Instead, he meets Victor Nikiforov, and so begins their walk on the fine line between their physical relationship and something more. Just updated!! One of my favourite sugar daddy fics!

Once You Go Greek by Defiant-Dreams (baterina_1234), Mature, 16k (WIP)
A fraternity fic wherein Yuuri and Viktor are in rival frats, but they fall in love anyway. Oh man, that update KILLED me!! I LOVE this fic!

Welcome to Detroit Dental and Orthodontics by stanzas, Teen, 11k
Victor stops the car, turns off the engine, and Yuri rolls out the car with the attitude of every slightly inconvenienced teenager. Yuri flips his shades up, stares in disbelief at the sign in front of the well-manicured lawn squished between two old barber shops: DETROIT DENTAL AND ORTHODONTICS.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says. LOOOOOOOOVE this fic!

Where They Are by ingthing, Explicit, 11k (WIP)
They find out things about themselves and step up to each other. 🔥🔥🔥 

Masquerade by Ashida, Explicit, 87k (WIP)
“Just say the word.” came the whisper as Victor stepped close, behind them Yuuri was aware of guns out and at the ready, of confused men and questioned loyalties, here Victor was offering, and Yuuri was too selfish to say no.
“Ok.” Yuuri smiled as this game of masquerade came to an end, what would happen now, he didn’t know, he would probably die, his family would come after him and try to put a knife in his back or a bullet between his eyes, none of it mattered, because together they would fight, and the rest of the world would finally burn. Every update of this fic kills me in the best way possible! Sexy, intense, and always riveting. Must read!

dear true love by cityboys, Teen, 72k
Victor is a writer pretending to be on a break; Yuuri is a pianist pretending to not be on a break. They meet, somehow, in the backwaters of Saga Prefecture, Japan. That ending was so lovely, I really enjoyed reading this fic! One of my fave music AUs!

#Katsudamn by lucycamui, Explicit, 5.9k
Victor surprises Yuuri with a trip to an adult store and gets a little more than he bargained for. Or maybe that was the plan all along. Spicy!!!

(˃̶͈̀_˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾( ノ_ಠ)₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

Here’s to another week of great fic reading! Be sure to give the authors some love!

Dating Zach Dempsey Would Include...

Originally posted by joeck

Requested to do the ‘dating Zach Dempsey would include’ but with a booknerd fem!reader :)

 

- Getting to see how smart Zach is, everyone thought Zach was under average when it came to smarts but when you start to date him you find out just how smart he is, not in the stereotypical Asian guy can do any math way, he was terrible at math but he was an A+ bio student and knew more about marine life than anyone you’ve ever met.

- Hand holding lots of hand holding, Zach is big on holding hands whether it’s while you’re walking to class or under the table during lunch or even at the library while he stands patiently next to you as you take your time looking at all the books, you don’t mind all the hand holding since your hands are always cold and Zach’s much larger ones are always so warm and soft.

- Going on dates to the aquarium, your favourite place to go to on weekend dates is the aquarium, you like watching all the fish swim around therapeutically and you love watching Zach’s eyes light up as he sees the aquatic animals he’s usually reading and studying about in textbooks.

- Cuddling on cold rainy days, Zach is a massive teddy bear when it comes to cuddles, he loves to be cuddled and also loves to be the cuddler and when it’s a cold rainy day that’s the perfect time to sit on the couch and watch movies while cuddling each other.

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*clears throat* IF YOU TRULY LOVE MALEC YOU WOULDNT PICK A SIDE WHEN THEY FIGHT, UNLESS THE OTHER DID SOMETHING HORRIBLE, WHICH WONT HAPPEN, ALEC AND MAGNUS ARE BOTH PEOPLE AND THEY MAKE MISTAKES, GET OVER YOURSELVES