she is listed as abbie on his phone

#PickUpPitch prompt fills - captain’s choice

Surprising no one, @alwayskels is a champ and has sent out even more #PickUpPitch letters (on PST letterhead, too!) Hats off to Kelci!

The prompt: Mike and Ginny are captains of two opposing teams for a charity baseball game. Ginny has LeBron James and Serena Williams on her team. Mike has Steph Curry and Leo DiCaprio on his team. Feel free to add other celebs on their teams too!

(There’s still time to help @pitchstreetteam​ out by getting our message to Hulu and Craig Erwich before the ATX Festival. Write your letters and send your postcards and I’ll write you your very own fic! Just get me a picture of your mail before you send it off.)


read on ao3

The rules are simple. Build the best celebrity softball team ever and lead that team to victory in a (not-so-)friendly game benefiting the Padres Community Fund. He has six weeks.

It’s the kind of thing that Mike Lawson was made for. 

Doesn’t matter who they find to go up against him, Mike’s been around the block. He’s not losing this game.

That confidence doesn’t wane when he finds out Ginny will captain the other team. Not even a little.

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Learn To Fly

Prompt: It’s my first time flying and I’m terrified, so I seek out the bar in the airport to drink my fears away, where I meet you. We become travel buddies, because I’m a lost puppy and have no idea what I’m doing. Then I fall asleep on your shoulder halfway through the flight AU.

Someone help me. I think I have a legitimate Kabby addiction.

This is a bit of a longer fic, as well. SORRYYY. (The song Abby is listening to is Revelator Eyes by The Paper Kites)

yes… this is named after the Foo Fighters song lolls

She seeks out the bar instantly upon entering the airport. Her carryon bag is one of her daughter’s old backpacks, but it holds everything she needs; wallet, phone charger, snacks, a jacket, and many other accessories she had packed through habit of medical training.

Only wishing she had asked Aurora to stay with her in the unfamiliar place until it was time to go through security.

There’s an empty seat near the glass wall that overlooks the runway that she takes, trying hard not to imagine herself going as fast as one of the planes currently taking off.

The sound of the rumbling engine of the plane sends shivers down her spine… and when the bartender comes up for her drink order, she gets a simple beer, too afraid to knock back anything that’ll leave her too drunk to be allowed on the plane.

She’s only a few sips in when a voice besides her pulls her out from her daydreams.

“Is anyone sitting here?” The man pointing to the bar stool next to her is tall and handsome, with the warmest brown eyes Abby has ever seen. Absent-mindedly, she nods her head, which earns her a confused look from the stranger. “Really?” He looks down at the empty chair, notices she only has one carry-on bag, and then turns to see if any angry husband or boyfriend is hurried his way.

“No, I mean…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head instead. “I’m sorry. No. You may sit here,” she says with a bit of a chuckle, laughing at how silly she must sound to the man.

He nods his thanks, sets his carry-on next to hers on the floor by their bar stools, and flags the bartender down with a finger. He orders a whiskey on the rocks, just a single, and as the drink is being poured, he turns to her.

“Marcus,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand for her to shake. 

“Abby,” she says smiling, still a bit embarrassed from her slip-up. His drink is presented to him, he takes one small sip, and sets it down.

“Is this your first time flying?”

She wonders if it’s the fact she’s got her plane tickets out in front her, flight number and boarding section highlighted, that gives her away.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“May I?” She nods her head, giving him permission to grab her tickets and look them over. There’s two tickets, one to board a plane at this airport, and one for a connecting flight in Denver that will take her all the way to Washington, where her daughter is. She watches closely as his eyes scan over the flight numbers and destinations, the way his lips curl into a smile.

“What?”

“Looks like we’re traveling buddies,” he says after a moment, digging in his inner jacket pocket to produce a pair of identical tickets; same departing flight, same connecting flight, and same final destination.

“You’re kidding,” she says in utter amazement, leaning closer to him as he places their tickets side by side for her to see for herself. “Look at that,” she says in wonder before picking up her tickets and shoving them away in her backpack.

He holds up his glass, offering up a toast.

“To your first time,” he says, earning a bit of a chuckle and an eye roll from her as their glasses clink together. “What’s in Washington, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My daughter,” is her quick, loving reply. “You?”


“Work.” He answers with a bit of a flat voice, so she doesn’t push the topic anymore.

“Well in any case… I’m not traveling alone anymore,” she says with a bright smile, nudging his shoulder a bit.

“That you aren’t,” he agrees with a wink.

They finish their drinks, talk a bit more, and when it’s time to head for security, he helps her out of her chair and grabs his own carry-on bag.  He leads her through the mass of people trying to push their way through the security lines.

“So… we wait here. Once we get to the podium, hand over your driver’s license and boarding passes. After that, take off your shoes and anything metal that you’re wearing, place it in a bin on the conveyer belt, and wait for your turn to be scanned.”

“Well that doesn’t sound complicated at all,” she huffs in annoyance and he looks back in amusement.

“It’s not that bad. Goes by pretty quick if you travel light.”

As promised, the ordeal goes by without a hitch. They meet up again on the other side of the security gate. She’s tying the laces on her shoes when he points in the direction of their gate.

“C-37. That’s where we’re headed.” She doesn’t think twice when he grabs her carry-on for her, but actually smiles when he tosses it over his shoulder and carries both bags.

When they arrive at the gate, he checks the watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” She looks unsure, almost afraid, to leave the gate to explore the airport’s restaurants, but he’s quick to reassure her. “Our flight doesn’t board for another hour, Abby. And by the time we get to Washington, it’ll be midnight.” She pulls her lower lip between her teeth before finally nodding.

They find something they agree on almost instantly, order their food, and he’s fast to pay for it all, even with her begging to let her pay for her own food. He ignores her pleas, accepts the bags of dinner, and leads her back to the gate so they can eat.

“I’m sure glad we made it back in time,” he teases. “Look at all these people trying to get on the plane.” She purses her lips together in an attempt to keep her own sarcastic remark from being voiced, but smiles and shakes her head when he hands her the bag of grilled chicken wraps and sweet potato fries.

The rest of the hour goes by rather quickly with him by her side. Her heart seems to race a little faster when the announcer talks over the speaker that their plane will now be boarding.

Their boarding group gets called first and he lets her get in front of him in the line, watching the way she clutches onto her carry-on so hard that her knuckles turn white. He can hear the way she exhales forcefully when the attendant takes her boarding pass and wishes her a safe trip.

He catches up with her in the small connecting hallway that leads to their plane and can see the anxiety all over her face.

“Hey,” he says gently, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Take a deep breath. It’ll be fun.”

“They serve alcohol on this plane too, right,” she asks and he laughs.

“That they do, but I’ll warn you… the restrooms on planes tend to be a bit of a bitch to get into.”


The line moves.

“Are you telling me this so I don’t get drunk?”

“That, and because it’ll be a little hard for me to hold your hair back in a restroom that’s big enough for someone half my size.”

The fear of stepping onto the plane is nearly gone by the time she makes it to the door, and instead, an undeniable excitement is replacing her fear. She looks back at him as she crosses the threshold and steps onto the plane. He smiles, nods his head in a proud gesture, and follows her down the compact isle to find seats.

She’s quick to find a section that’s empty and makes a b-line for the window seat. He takes a seat next to her and gets comfortable before bucking his seatbelt in. She mimics his movements and settles into the cushioned seat, letting her head fall back against the head rest and watching as airport workers throw their luggage in the compartments below.

“Nervous,” he asks, keeping his voice just low enough for only her to hear. She nods her head once, but offers up a smile anyway.

The flight attendants take their spots in the isle and before long, the plane is being thrusted backwards. The woman talking into the microphone that booms over the plane’s speakers is talking too fast for Abby to follow, but she figures it’s her nerves that have her unable to pay attention. The attendants take their seats, the lights above them go out, and slowly… the plane starts to move.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, watching from the window as they advance down the runway. He smiles at her excitement, at how her brown eyes twinkle with happiness and apprehension all at the same time, and leans back for the sudden jolt that’s coming.

The plane gains speed quickly, there’s a sudden lift, and they’re in the air. This part of flying has always been his favorite, but he dares not tell the woman currently clinging onto the arm rests on either side of her.

There’s a bit of turbulence they go through, the plane drops suddenly, and without a second thought, her hand darts out to find his in the darkness. He looks over at her to find her head still thrown back against the seat, her eyes shut tightly, and her jaw clenching.

He squeezes, opening their joined hands a bit so he can interlock their fingers together. He’s surprised when she squeezes back, letting him know that she appreciates the gesture.

There’s a young girl sitting on the other side of Marcus, calmly swiping through a list of music on her phone when she looks up and catches Marcus staring at her. The young brunette smiles, leans over and see’s how his hand is clutched in Abby’s.

“Is this your wife’s first time flying,” she asks innocently, nodding towards Abby who’s too focused on keeping her breathing steady to hear the young girl’s question.

“She’s-“ He starts to explain that this isn’t his wife, that this is just a stranger he’d met in an airport bar not two hours ago, but the former seems much more believable. “Afraid of heights.” He tells himself he isn’t really lying to the girl, only keeping the fact that they’re not married from her.

“Have her listen to music. It helps me,” she shrugs and places her earbuds into her ears.

Finally, the plane is thousands of feet in the air and leveling out high above the clouds. Slowly, she lets go of his hand and with red cheeks, offers up an apologetic look which he brushes off instantly.

The plane is quiet. More than half of the passengers are asleep, including the young girl that sits to his left.

He had never been able to fall asleep on planes, no matter how hard he tried. So he turns his head to check on his flying companion, only to find her asleep as well. He fears for a second that she’ll wake up to find him staring at her, but she only snuggles into her seat more, her head falling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

He freezes.

She’s so close, he can hear the song drifting from the earbuds she had placed in her ears after he had suggested she listen to music. It had worked like a charm, apparently.

He smiles when he hears the song, makes himself comfortable in his own seat, and enjoys the weight of her head against him. Another hour or so goes by, and he’s jolted awake by the shaking of the plane.

He blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dimness of the plane, and gently turns his head to find Abby still asleep against him. 

This was the first time, ever, that he had fallen asleep on a plane. 

His eyes pass over her angelic face once before falling onto the city’s skyline through her window. 

This was his second favorite part of flying.

Gently, he lifts the shoulder she’s asleep on to nudge her awake.

“Abby,” he whispers into her ear. Slowly, she comes to and when she does, looks embarrassed. But he doesn’t bother to acknowledge it; only points to her window. “Look.”

“Attention passengers, time on the ground is 10:36 PM, temperatures running in the lower twenties. Would flight attendants please prepare the cabin for arrival. We want to thank you for flying with us on this beautiful night.” There’s a brief pause. “Welcome to Denver.”

anonymous asked:

That wikip on V got me thinking. What if Claire tweet last week was about his pg not Z. PROMPT: Claire has to calm her broken heart dtg down cause she thinks wikip is real and V is engaged. V finds out & goes to Z to find out why that upset her. ~D

DON’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ ON THE INTERNET – PROMPT/ONESHOT

“Mom!!! Come Here Please!!! Hurry!!!”

I hear Daya call from upstairs. Letting out a sigh, a mother’s job is never done. Sticking my iPad onto the coffee table I stood from my comfortable position on the couch just as Kazembe walked in from the kitchen, a bowl of ice cream in his hand and the spoon hanging from his mouth.

“What’s her problem” He asked hearing Z’s cry for help from upstairs.

“Who knows” I shrug my shoulders placing a kiss onto his cheek “She probably has another pimple or something.”

“She’s definitely your child” Kazembe laughs as he goes over to the couch, getting comfortable in my spot.

Climbing the stairs I laughed to myself as Midnight came running from Z’s bedroom and passes me down the stairs. Obviously he’s tired of her temper tantrum as well….. Poor Midnight.

“Mommy!!!” Z calls out again just as I stepped into the doorway of her bedroom.

“Child what do you want?” I asked her resting my head on her door frame.

She quickly looks up from her phone in her hand and that’s when I see it, the tears threatening to pool from her eyes. Immediately going into mommy mode, I made my stride across the room and over to her bed, taking a seat on the edge.

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homecomings [ichabod x abbie]

Post-series one-shot. Abbie takes Ichabod to Oxford for Christmas. Also on FF.net and AO3.

From the moment they nearly missed the shuttle to JFK because Ichabod was arguing with a nearby nine-to-fiver in a suit about the unfairness of the present American legal system, and subsequently sat in traffic with his stare boring into the backs of their heads because of course he was on the same bus, Abbie began to lose her confidence that this would actually work out. This was shaping up to be just as complicated as any of their demon-fighting escapades (not least because Ichabod kept whipping his head around to stare suspiciously at innocent passersby, and it was freaking her out) even though it was supposed to be, for once in their ridiculous lives, fun. She had promised Ichabod that she would take him to Oxford for his Christmas present, and was now doing (or attempting to do) just that. But the prospect of loading Ichabod Crane aboard a transatlantic flight with carefully minted but obviously fake ID documents, while getting him to shut up and/or not say something unfortunate at the exact wrong moment, and not being met on arrival by MI6 or Interpol, was one to boggle even a professional.

Fortunately, Abbie supposed, she was nothing if not that. Getting Ichabod a passport in the first place had been hell and a half; she had to invent all sorts of stories about him being raised in a commune and having no official birth certificate or vital records, while he huffed disapprovingly in the background. Since he was so obviously British, she had thought about approaching the consulate in New York City, but then they would ask even more difficult questions, and with Ichabod being unable to provide proof whatsoever that he existed, they would justly get extremely suspicious. It was best to keep this in Sleepy Hollow, where she could exert at least some control over it, and with Irving’s help, they eventually decided that Ichabod was a naturalized U.S. citizen (he had been in the country since before its actual founding, and for several centuries) who had been born in Britain. (Abbie didn’t know if there were communes in Britain, especially in the starchly proper part of Wiltshire Ichabod originated from, and it made her head hurt, but never mind.) That way, they were able to acquire him an American passport, complete with a picture of Ichabod looking like a deer in the headlights, which was perfectly legal insofar as long as you ignored that everything in it was a lie. Nor did Abbie think that her “born with the hippies” cover story was going to fly very far if anyone started digging. Though Ichabod, with his ratty ponytail, predilection for vintage clothing and total disdain for modern life, could possibly pull it off.

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“What? It’s a funny word!”

A/N: So basically I had a dream about this happening? And I needed it to be a thing so I wrote a quick little drabble to get it out of my system. I’m still working on filling more prompts but always feel free to send more!

Summary: Bubblebath!Bellarke bc its the best in the world. 


Clarke sighed when she walked in the door, rolling her tired shoulders. It had been a terribly long day at work. She was beyond exhausted at this point and she just wanted to curl up with Bellamy and go to sleep.

“Hey Princess, long day?” He asked her when she plopped down on the couch beside him, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

“The longest,” She mumbled, letting herself sink into his embrace. He motioned for her to sit up and began rubbing the knots out of the base of her neck.

“Want me to call and cancel dinner with your mom tonight?” He asked, moving down to her shoulders. She groaned.

“Would you?” She asked, leaning back so she could get a look at his face. He nodded and she smiled, reaching up to peck his lips.

“Then I’m gonna run us a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles…” he told her, kissing her cheek. “And we can even have some wine, if you’d like.”

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