there may be a fic someday

Someday Your Child May Cry

1. Question

At first, the only thing that Mulder feels is a stupendous sense of relief.

His first thought, when Scully had asked to come over tonight, had been the same thing it always is whenever Scully says she has something important to talk to him about: he had worried that she was finally leaving. Leaving the basement, leaving the Bureau, leaving law enforcement… leaving him. And once her words have penetrated to the extent that he understands that he’s not going to be suddenly and painfully deprived of her companionship, the knot of dread that has taken up residence in his gut finally begins to dissipate.

And then he realizes what she’s just asked him.


If he had been thinking clearly, he would have been able to see this coming. He had known about her doctor’s appointment this afternoon, had known its purpose, and it should have been a fairly quick and easy leap of logic from there to where he and Scully are sitting now. If the news had been good, it would make sense that Scully’s next step would be to figure out the other half of the equation with which her doctor had presented her. She could have just used an anonymous donor, certainly, but there’s a lot of uncertainty in that… and he’s well-aware, by now, that Scully never deals in uncertainty if she can avoid it.

It follows, then, that the next logical step would be to ask a favor from a man she trusts. And unless she’s been doing an astoundingly good job of keeping something from him, he’s at the top of what is likely a very short list.

It doesn’t escape him that she hasn’t specified the exact capacity in which she expects him to involve himself. Will his contribution end with his donation, or will she want more than that? He’s not sure which is more terrifying- the idea that she wants his role in this hypothetical child’s life to end with a gasp and a jerk into a sterile plastic cup… or the idea that she wants him to be there, to be present, for the whole thing.

To be a father.

A father to Scully’s child.

Mulder suddenly realizes that he has voiced precisely none of these musings, that he has, in fact, been sitting here, staring at his coffee table, in total silence, for at least a full minute since Scully had stopped speaking. He glances up to find her chewing her lips the way she does when she’s nervous, and he reaches out, across the couch, trying to capture her hand in his. She gives him her fingertips- barely- and when he meets her eyes, he suddenly realizes how terrified she is, how difficult it must have been for her to come here, to ask him for something so intimate and personal. But before he can open his mouth to try and allay her fears, she speaks.

“I don’t want you to answer me yet,” she tells him. “I’m aware that I’m asking a lot.”

“Scully, you’re not-” She holds up her hand, and he falls silent.

“I’m also aware,” she continues, “that this crosses all sorts of lines when it comes to what’s considered… appropriate.” He wants to interrupt her again, but he bites his tongue and waits. “I want you to think about it for at least twenty-four hours,” she says. “The whole weekend, if you want. One way or another, I don’t want your answer until at least this time on Saturday.” He nods solemnly, and she huffs out a deep breath and stands. “I’m going to head out,” she says. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” And she turns and leaves, striding quickly out of his living room before he can stop her.

The sound of his front door closing jerks him out of his trance, and he leaps to his feet, rushing after her to call her back.

But as his hand closes on the doorknob, he pauses, thinking. Scully knows that he’s terrible at following directions, that he jumps into things without giving any thought to the consequences, that he’s reckless and careless and dangerous. And none of these are qualities that Scully would accept in someone with whom she’s going to raise a child.

Not that she’s given him any indication, yet, that she wants him to be that involved. But if she’s considering it, wouldn’t it be to his advantage to prove to her, just this once, that he’s perfectly capable of following instructions- at least, when it comes to this?

Reluctantly, he lets go of the doorknob and shelves his enthusiastic, whole-hearted “Yes!” for this time tomorrow.


Standing in the hallway, her back pressed firmly against the wall next to Mulder’s door, Scully holds her breath as she listens to the doorknob rattling under his hand. She waits… but after a moment, there’s silence. He is not, then, going to come running out after her.

She takes five long, deep, measured breaths… and pulls herself upright, and leaves.

Daddy’s Eyes

Character: Negan (The Walking Dead)

Word Count: 4,056

Prompt/Summary: ‘I’m pregnant.’ (dialogue prompt) / Negan and his wife decide to have a second baby together.

Warnings: Very light smut.

Written For: Jessie’s 1K Follower Writing Challenge

Note: This is another one set in my pre-apocalypse AU… I swear someday I’ll write a story about Negan that’s actually set in TWD world, lol. Sorry I didn’t go all the way with writing the smut; I’m really not good at writing full on smut. And sorry for the odd title. I am the Worst at coming with titles for fics and often just use song titles.

Also, I may do a part two to this one where Lucille meets her little brother or sister, just because I think that’d be cute AF.

Tagging: @grimes-slut, @negans-network, @jdms-network, @hawtdiggitynegan, @fuckinjdm, @jeffreydeanneganstrash, @sweetsweetpeach (Want to be added? Send me an ask!)

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I will turn you into the most terrifying, unstoppable beast that the paladins have ever faced .

I feel that you may be in fact the best creation that i have ever created

-  bitchass Haggar

I would imagine Haggar continuing to feed more and more quintessence to Kuro after every battle that he would lose against the paladins because she KNOWS, that he can someday defeat them. although he could, but the only one thats truly getting hurt is him, him going through so much pain and torture, its not fair that he cant be free, thats all he wants yo but she continues to control what he is doing, in his existence. and his purpose in living



EDIT: i forgot the scar on his noes im a disgrace. 

 @pawspaintsnthings replied to your post “so, two (2) cool things happened yesterday: A) I finished my…”

CONGRATS!!! Zimbits, sexual tension in Madison :p or bed sharing in Madison…or both…

thank you!! and omg bed sharing my (not so) secret weakness. Uhmm, this went in a different direction than you were probably thinking…but…enjoy?! (this is the first prompt I received and the last one I’m posting…because I am bad at life and also tumblr) (but i loved this prompt and wanted to take extra time with it)

Jack slowly wakens, aware of being warm and comfortable. The quilt is tucked around them just right, and the couch cushions are surprisingly comfortable. The faint glow of lights from the Christmas tree gives just enough illumination for him to see Bitty’s sleeping face a few inches away from his. They’re on their sides facing each other, and Bitty is pressed up close with Jack’s arm around him.

Of course, he had offered to take the couch last night, and been roundly shushed by all three Bittles and told he was sleeping in the spare room. But Jack had lain awake for an hour, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. They already had to spend so many nights of the year apart. Maybe it was stupid to miss his boyfriend when he was only downstairs but, well, Jack did. So he’d crept back down into the living room, where Bitty had greeted him with a sleepy smile and drawn him down into the blankets, saying “just for a little while, and no funny business.”

“Of course,” Jack had answered, settling in and wrapping him body around Bitty’s. He’d kissed his forehead. “Just for a little while…”

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Someday Your Child May Cry

Previously: Question | Preparations | Irrational

4. Confession

With Scully taking a shift guarding Gibson, Mulder is free to take Diana to dinner, which he does. She fills him in- a bit- on where she’s been, these past six years, but since there’s a good deal she can’t tell him, they spend most of the meal talking about Gibson, about the possibilities he might represent. When they’re finished eating, Mulder drives Diana home.

In front of her building, Diana reaches across the center console, laying a hand on Mulder’s arm. Her soft smile takes him back years, back to the days before any of this… before cancer, before labs full of clones, before mysterious children appearing out of nowhere only to die… before Scully.

“Listen, Fox, why don’t you come up for a little while?” Diana asks him. “I don’t think either of us is ready for the evening to be over just yet.” Mulder hesitates. “Just to talk,” she reassures him. “We haven’t seen each other in years, Fox. I’ve missed so much since I’ve been gone… won’t you come up and fill me in on everything you’ve found since I left?”

Mulder glances at the clock on the dashboard. He’s due at the fertility clinic first thing in the morning… but it’s only eight-thirty, not really that late, especially not for him. He shrugs.

“Why not?” he says, and Diana beams. They get out of the car, and as he steps up onto the sidewalk beside her, she takes his arm, leading him into the swank apartment building. He gazes around the posh lobby as they pass through, impressed.

“Counter-terrorism must have paid a whole hell of a lot better than the X-Files,” he observes, as they step into a walnut-paneled elevator. Diana chuckles.

“I’ve made some wise investments over the years,” she says. “A few of them have paid off quite handsomely.” She cocks an eyebrow at him. “From what I understand, you could afford better than your Hegel Place apartment yourself, these days.” He ducks his head, and her face softens with sympathy. “I was sorry to hear about your father, Fox,” she tells him. “That must have been very hard. I know your relationship was… complicated.”

“To say the least,” grumbles Mulder. “What makes you think I inherited anything, though?”

“I assumed you would,” says Diana, as the elevator arrives on the seventh floor, and the doors slide smoothly open. They exit into a wide, stark-white hallway, and Diana leads him to the right. “I mean… there wasn’t anyone else to inherit his money, was there? Unless he willed it to your mother, which didn’t seem likely to me.” Mulder remains silent. Given the dubious origins of his father’s fortune, he doesn’t like to think about it that often, much less spend any of it… though, lately, he’s been wondering if maybe he could offer to pay for the next round of treatment for Scully, should tomorrow’s attempt prove unsuccessful.

“Yeah, he left everything to me,” he admits, finally. “I haven’t really felt the need to change the way I live, though. I’m fine the way I am.” They arrive at Diana’s door, and she lets them in. Her condo is spacious and lushly-appointed. It definitely doesn’t look as though she’s just moved in.

“It came already furnished and decorated,” she says, as he gazes around. “I traveled pretty light when I came back… I really didn’t want the added stress of putting together a place from scratch, not when I was anxious to get back to work as quickly as possible.” She crosses the living room to the bar along the wall, and from underneath, she brings up a bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Can I fix you one?” she asks, holding up the bottle, and he thinks for a moment. Dr. Parenti hadn’t said anything about alcohol. Mulder assumes that if it had been imperative that he abstain in the hours before his donation, the doctor would have mentioned it.

“Please,” he says, and Diana pours both of them a drink, bringing them over to the sofa and taking a seat. Mulder sits beside her and she hands him his glass.
It’s easy to talk to her, as easy as it had been when they’d first met, and Mulder relaxes within minutes. Diana listens attentively, refilling their glasses at regular intervals, as he relates the adventures that he and Scully have had over the past five years, the things they’ve done and discovered together, the near-misses and narrow escapes, the myriad of personal losses they’ve both suffered- her, especially. When he finishes, Diana is quiet for a moment, looking thoughtfully into her glass of whiskey.

“You and Agent Scully must be very close,” she observes. “To have gone through so much together. I didn’t realize how much….” Diana looks almost embarrassed. “I’m sorry that I was so dismissive of her before, Fox, when I said that you could have used someone to back you up. She’s obviously been much more supportive of you than I realized.”

“Yeah,” says Mulder softly. “She really has been… and she’s paid the price, that much is certain.”

“Are you….” Diana looks away again. “You and Agent Scully, are you-“

“Together?” Mulder finishes for her. “No… it’s not like that. She’s, uh… I mean, we’re close, she’s my best friend, but….” He shrugs, not quite sure how to sum up the frustrating enigma that is his ever-changing relationship with Scully these days. One way or another, he doesn’t feel right discussing her with Diana. Scully is one of the most private people he’s ever known in his life, and he’s relatively certain she would be horrified that Mulder has already told Diana as much as he has.

“Well, in that case,” Diana says, carefully placing her empty glass on the coffee table, “I don’t need to feel guilty if I do this.” She slides closer, taking his face in her hands, and presses her lips to his.

It’s been so, so long since someone has touched him like this, and he goes along without hesitation. The whiskey has fogged his mind just enough that any protests he could come up with are quickly drowned- at least, until Diana reaches for his belt. He pulls back sharply.

“Diana,” he says, struggling to master his breathing, “I can’t. I’m sorry.” Diana frowns in confusion.

“Is there someone else, then?” she asks. “Apart from Agent Scully?” Mulder shakes his head.

“No, there’s no one,” he says. “And at another time, I’d be all for it, it’s just… there’s something I have to do tomorrow morning, and I can’t… I mean….” He sighs. “Look, there’s no delicate way to say this, but I have to provide semen first thing tomorrow morning, and I’m not supposed to… uh… provide it in any other circumstances for at least forty-eight hours beforehand.” Diana smiles, amused.

“Fox, if you’ve inherited your father’s money, you can’t possibly be so hard up for cash that you’re selling that,” she chuckles.

“I’m not being paid,” says Mulder hastily. “It’s not like that at all. It’s, uh… it’s a favor, actually.” He swallows. “For Scully.” Diana’s face goes cold so quickly, Mulder can feel the blast of ice from where he’s sitting.

“You’re helping Agent Scully have a child.” He nods. “And then… what? Are you going to help her raise it?” He knows it’s going to upset her, but he feels like he owes her the truth.

“If she’ll allow me to, yes, I am,” he says. Diana looks away from him.

“So when I asked you about having children, and you told me you had no intentions of ever becoming a father… that was a lie?”

“No, Diana, it was true back then. But… I guess….” Diana stands abruptly and takes her glass back over to the bar, refilling it. “I’ve changed, Diana. My circumstances have changed, and I feel differently about it now.”

“What, specifically, has changed, Fox?” she asks coldly, her back still to him. “From what you’ve told me, from what you’ve learned, the world can’t possibly look any safer for a child than it did when you used that as en excuse for me. So what’s changed?” Mulder remains silent, and finally, Diana turns to glare at him. “Because from where I’m standing, the only change I can see is the woman you would be having a child with.” Mulder looks at the floor. “So what you’re really telling me, Fox, is that you didn’t want to have a child with me.” He could deny it, certainly, but he doesn’t. He nods. “But you would consider it with her?” He meets her gaze.

“Yes,” he says. “I would.” 

The last vestiges of warmth flee from Diana’s face. She tilts her glass back, draining it in one.

“I think you should leave now, Fox,” she says.

He doesn’t argue.

“…the baby was left safely cocooned in Jellal’s arms, wriggly as he might be, and the new father was free to feel the wonder of holding his son for the very first time.”

                    Stowaway an Epic Tale of Pigheadedness by @bellagill92

Tiny tiny welcome present for my most favorite JerZa writer and dear friend who underwent a surgery and now is finally recovering, may God bless you my dear. Your fics soothes my soul and I run to your page to read everytime i feel stressed or sad. Those fics are healing! i swear! <3 <3 

I hope someday you can write more, reading your stories are my favorite thing to do aside drawing ;)

There are more pics to come!

anonymous asked:

How about ❝It amused me to make you ashamed of it.❞ with merlahad? Plz? :3

“It amused me to make you ashamed of it.”

Lachlan’s hands clench underneath the table, but he forces his face to remain impassive, although he’s sure it hides nothing from Harry.


It’s barely a word, hissed out from behind clenched teeth.

“Because I’m a fool. Because I couldn’t admit to myself how I felt and it was easier to pretend I was like the rest of these pricks. I’ve grown up pretending to be just like everyone else, and part of that has always been to find someone else who was even more different than myself.”

Lachlan stands up so quickly his chair falls backwards and clatters against the floor. “Ye will never pass as a gentleman, Harry Hart, but ye deserve this lot. Congrats, the position of Galahad is yours. I withdraw.”

His hands are shaking as he walks away, and he wonders why his chest hurts so much more now that he knows how Harry truly feels.

Give me a sentence/pairing, get a drabble.

Jason Todd is still a teenager; slim and tall, but still maybe half an inch shorter than Dick, with slate black eyes and hair, and a thin face. He wears a red bat on his chest and likes to throw himself at things with bravado and a great deal of confidence, in between looking crushed by how much of the world he’d missed for the months he’d been buried in the dirt.

The man in front of him is heavyset with a blank chest and standing with his fingers hooked into the pockets of his pants. Jason’s face peers back at him, but it’s wider, older, the cheekbones more pronounced. At his fringe is a tuft of thick, white hair that falls across his forehead, not quite long enough to hide the gaping scar slicing his eyebrow in half, or the series of red marks across his nose and cheeks. The way he’s standing, tall and intimidating, speaks of an adult, and the eyes that are staring at him are not black but a bright, unearthly green.

scenes from a batman fic i may someday end up finishing

Someday Your Child May Cry

Previously: Question

2. Preparations

There are things that must be done, now that Mulder has given Scully his answer, and thanks to the research he’d spent most of the night and the following morning doing after she had left his apartment on Friday night, he’s got a fairly good handle on what all of this will entail.

First, of course, is his meeting with Dr. Parenti. Mulder provides the doctor with a detailed family health history, the finer points of which he obtains after retreating to another room to make a very awkward phone call to his mother. Teena Mulder becomes instantly alarmed at the nature of her son’s questions, and his repeated assurances that he is not in the midst of a health scare do nothing to alleviate her concerns. Rather, this new information only serves to make her even more suspicious, and as Mulder has no intentions whatsoever of telling her the real reason for his needing this information, it takes quite some time to get her off the phone.

(There’s a space, at the bottom of the form, for “additional information,” and he opts to leave out the aforementioned tendency towards alien abduction; he figures that, since the kid’s going to be dealing with the same thing from his mother’s side, that base has already been covered.)

“How did it go?” Scully asks him, when he arrives back in the office after his appointment. She’s doing a reasonably good job of concealing her anxiety.

“Fine, fine,” he tells her. “Dr. Parenti confirmed what I’ve told you before: the Mulder family passes genetic muster.” She chuckles at the memory of that long-ago conversation, those words casually tossed out during a more innocent time, before either of them had had any idea that measures like these would, one day, be necessary.

It strikes Mulder, as he thinks back to what he had told her that day, that this could be an ideal time to broach the topic of what, exactly, they’re going to do if this is successful. But the moment he opens his mouth, Scully, wearing a pretty close facsimile to his own panic face, flips open the folder containing their latest case and launches into a thorough summation of the information they’ve gathered so far.

Okay, message received: she’s not ready to talk about this yet. He supposes, given the chances of success (he’s looked it up, and the possibility is nowhere near as strong as he’d like it to be), it’s a conversation they may never need to have, so if she wants to cross that bridge if and when they come to it, he’ll follow her lead.


The side effects of the progesterone injections take Scully completely by surprise.

None of it should be a shock- she’s a medical doctor, after all, and plus, she’s been brushing up on the topic- but knowing about the mood swings and heightened emotions that can occur and experiencing them are two very different things.

The first time it happens in front of Mulder, it’s because he brings her a decaf latte in the morning. She’d mentioned in passing, days ago, that she’s decided to give up caffeine now, before the embryo transfer, so that if it takes, she’ll already have decreased her dependency on the daily half a pot of coffee that has become the norm for her. She’s so touched that Mulder has remembered this that tears spring to her eyes as he places the cup in her hands. He instantly looks horrified.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is that not right? You said you wanted to give up caffeine early, and I thought- I mean, I can go back and get-”

“No, no, it’s fine!” she tells him, sniffling and wiping the tears from her eyes. “This is perfect. I just… I was touched that you remembered, that’s all.” Mulder doesn’t look at all reassured by this.

“Geez, am I that thoughtless?” he asks her. “It’s really not a big deal, Scully. It wasn’t a problem to do.”

“You’re not thoughtless,” says Scully, reaching out and taking his hand. “It’s these stupid injections, that’s all. I cried while watching a life insurance commercial last night.” Mulder laughs.

“So I definitely won’t be taking you to see the latest Julia Roberts movie, then,” he says, sitting down at his desk with his own latte and kicking his feet back.

“Probably not a good idea,” she agrees. “Which, I’m sure, is very upsetting to you.”

“I’m devastated,” he says, deadpan. “But I’m thinking I’ll just take you to see Big Daddy, instead. Much more appropriate for us right now.” Scully freezes in the process of opening her briefcase. Does he mean…?

They haven’t talked about this yet, mostly because she has no idea exactly how to broach the topic. If he were to ask her, right now, how involved she wants him to be if things go the way she’s hoping they will, she would have her answer ready… but it’s not the kind of thing they could really come back from if he decides he’s not okay with it.

She shelves it. No sense in worrying about something that might not even come to pass.

imagine your otp

cutthroatpixie said: I am trying to remember the first thing I ever said to you in person was it something dumb about your knee it was probably something dumb about your knee

kixboxer said: i don’t remember! i mean it probably was, but all i remember is i was sitting in the lobby of your hotel reading my kindle with LASER FOCUS and then some feet stopped next to mine. and then i’ve got nothing until we couldn’t find a real thai place for wizard reasons and i think the waiter thought we were on a date. i have anxiety coma’d the rest.

imagine your otp

viktor and yuuri meeting for the first time after chatting online for… years? (WHAT FANDOM WERE THEY IN? ICE SKATING FANDOM MAYBE?) and yuuri is so nervous to meet him (he is so boring? and plain? viktor will probably take one look at him and leave??) and so he’s waiting at viktor’s hotel lobby for viktor to show up (which, lbr, will be the swankiest place in town and he has spent the last ten minutes watching these Very Important People power-walking while talking into their bluetooth headsets, dressed in clothes that cost more than the entirety of yuuri’s apartment building, his heart in his throat, his anxiety up to the sky)

and he’s just staring at the black screen of his phone and thinking maybe he ought to just leave when all of a sudden he sees a pair of feet stop next to him, clad in the most hideously expensive shoes he has ever seen and—oh. it’s viktor. of course it is.

and so yuuri’s staring at him awkwardly and viktor looks strangely nervous.

“you’re shorter than i thought,” yuuri suddenly says.

at the same time, viktor blurts out: “i like your knees.”

yuuri stares at him. viktor blinks. “the first picture you ever sent of me had vicchan sitting on your lap,” he says quietly. “i saw your knees before i ever saw your face.” he pauses. “also, ouch.” and yuuri is bright red and viktor is still. staring. at. his. knees. 

and then they wind up going to a thai restaurant for drunken noodles where phichit is the waiter who knows they are on an awkward date

("no,” yuuri says, “we are just friends who, if anybody else asks, did not meet on the internet”)

and phichit tries really hard to lessen the awkwardness and also he is probably yuuri’s bff who told him “i totally ship you guys but just in case take him here for your date and if he winds up being a creeper i’ll knock him out with our wok”

(phichit does not knock him out with their wok)

(he knows true awkward internet love when he sees it)

“HTERE ISNO MANCE,” yuuri texts phichit drunkenly after he has walked viktor back to his hotel. drunk-texting is awfully hard, but yuuri has a lot of experience.

in response, phichit sends back a picture of the two of them giggling over pictures of their dogs, leaning over each other’s cell phones, long-empty plates still on the table (phichit has other priorities, okay)

“THERE IS SO MUCH MANCE,” he says, adding two entire lines of relevant emoji, from the smiling face with heart-eyes emoji to no less than five eggplant emoji. yuuri doesn’t deign to respond. it’s totally worth it.


@kixboxer; @cutthroatpixie


Imagine being engaged to Jared but in love with Jensen.

Pairings: Jared x Reader, Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Cheating, angst, smut

Word Count: 2.2k (Including Song Lyrics)

Summary: Song Fic based on the song Secret Love Song by Little Mix - You’re engaged to Jared. You love Jared, but then there is Jensen. No one has ever made you feel the way he does. You know it’s wrong, but nothing has ever felt so right, but at the end of the day, you both know you can’t be together. Will you be able to really walk away from Jensen and be truly happy with Jared?

A/N: This is a work of fiction. Please read it as such. Gen and Danneel do not exist within the SPN Family for the purposes of this fic. If you have issues with cheating, the idea of cheating, just don’t read the damn fic, okay? I’m trying to keep you from getting irritated. This story was swirling around in my head and needed to be wrote. You watch movies and TV shows with cheating… don’t jump on my back for writing this. OK? I already think it’s a steamy pile of poo that I’m hesitant to post as is. I don’t need your help. 

Also, special thanks to @torn-and-frayed and @chaos-and-the-calm67 for talking me out of a tree on this one.

With all that being said, read on at your discretion

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Someday Your Child May Cry

Previously: Question | Preparations

3. Irrational

She tells herself, firmly, that it’s just the hormones.

She’s being completely irrational. Of course she is. Old friends can hold hands without it meaning anything deeper. Mulder has held her hand on more than one occasion. He hasn’t seen Diana Fowley in at least five years, and she had obviously meant something to him once; isn’t it natural for him to be happy to see her again?

And after all, if whatever relationship he’d had with her had been anything truly serious, Mulder would have mentioned her before… wouldn’t he?

Of course, he’s not under any obligation to tell her all the details of his romantic past. Beyond her own relationship with Jack Willis, she’s never shared any stories of the men she had been involved with before meeting him. That’s the sort of conversation that comes at the start of a romantic relationship, not a professional partnership.

Still… she and Mulder, they’re friends, aren’t they? He hasn’t volunteered any information about Agent Fowley at all. Why is he being so cagey? 

It’s the hormones, she tells herself. The hormones, and the stress about the upcoming embryo transfer, which could take place in as little as a week, if everything goes well at Mulder’s appointment in two days. She’s worried, she’s scared, she’s not completely herself at the moment. These moments of irrationality are to be expected, and she’s just going to have to be on the lookout for them, be ready to rise above them.

Still, whether it’s irrational or not, she doesn’t quite feel equal to the task of striding into that room and breaking up their intimate moment. Calling Mulder from the car seems safer, for now, with the damned progesterone messing with her emotions, making her feel things she knows can’t be real.

Because she can’t be jealous. She just can’t.

Fic: Room in Your Heart for More Ch. 8

Sorry it took so long for this update. I had a sinus infection all week and could only sit down and write a little here and there. Any typos are due to cold medicine. ;) As promised, this is so fluffy and sweet you may get a toothache. Read it on Ao3 or below. 

Is it someday yet? 

Felicity gasped when she fell through the air off the ladder, bracing herself for impact, but she was surprised when it never came. She landed softly in Oliver’s arms. It was just as well, he was the reason she fell in the first place.

“I’ve got you honey,” the man in question said as he placed her feet gently on the floor, but kept his arms around her.

Felicity stood there for a moment, with her nose buried in his chest. She had wanted this moment to come, and she wanted to make sure she was ready to enjoy it. She pulled back to look up into his eyes.

“You love me?”

She grinned when Oliver nodded.

“Like, LOVE love me or hey pal, I love ya,” Felicity teased. Oliver tilted his head at her, considering his options before responding.

“The first on, I think. If that one means I’m hopelessly in love with you,” he said, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

But Felicity was not into quick kisses after romantic declarations, so she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a longer, deeper kiss to show him how she really felt. When the kiss ended, their foreheads remained together while they worked to calm their breathing.

“I love you too, Oliver.”

He cupped her cheeks. “You love me?”

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yeah so i saw this post about a gymnastics au and i may or may not have gotten a little excited? so here’s….. something. 1.2k of something. credit to @thevagabondboy for the prompt that made my eyes bug out of my head and made me immediately pull up google docs

please note that whereas i know more than i probably should about women’s gymnastics, my knowledge on mag is not nearly as extensive as wag so…… y’know, just roll with it

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I’ve Never Been In Love Before | Read it on ao3

A stage manager’s job is never done. Alec Lightwood is knee deep in tech week for the show from hell. The director is an asshole, the production team is falling apart and the co-lead managed to up and break his ankle. With obstacles at every turn— his mother keeps trying to set him up with a nice girl, his siblings can’t behave for two minutes, the understudy is mysteriously missing and Alec keeps hitting his head on the new set piece— will he ever manage to start rehearsal; and more importantly, will he find his fucking flashlight?

Is this a finished one-shot? From me? For Shadowhunters AU Monday? And on Thursday night to boot! I’m just as surprised as you are, lol!

After skipping a week to catch up on other fics (though I do have a half-written thing for travel au week that I may actually finish someday) I’m back with a self-indulgent theatre au with plenty of drama :) 

I think possibly my favorite Game of Thrones headcanon that I don’t expect to be a part of the series is that there are now little tiny dragon eggs left down in the depths of Meereen. 

I’m just saying, while Drogon was out having fun and flying free, Rhaegal and Viserion were stuck down there a Long. Time. Completely unsupervised. And dragons have this thing where they can switch their sexes presumably with little effort. A lot of that information is lost, so records aren’t 100% certain, but according to the scholar Barth and Maester Aemon Targaryen, “but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame.” It’s why there are no gendered pronouns in old valyrian. 

So, just saying. There could be some lil dragon babies some former slave finds down there while cleaning out Dragon Dung.

I’ve decided that from now on, I will no longer be posting Berserk here on tumblr! At least, not in full! I’ll post links to it on FF, but full chapters will not be on here! This is because I may someday want to actually publish it, and it would be best not to have it floating around on tumblr! For the most part, I won’t be posting any multi-chap fics here, unless they’re not something I would ever publish!

I know this is probably frustrating for some people who only read it on here, but I’m doing this to avoid hypothetical legal trouble! I hope you all understand <3

Anyway! You can find Berserk HERE. I will be updating this Saturday, so watch for a link!


I am BEYOND DELIGHTED to announce that the cutest couple of the Revolution has braved the crossing to America and taken up residence in my humble home!!!  ❤  ❤  ❤

Those of you familiar with @montmartre-parapluie already know that she is not only immensely kind and thoughtful but also immensely talented, as a writer and as an artist and as a seamstress. As such, I knew that little Anna and Hewlett would be absolutely perfect and adorable … but I still wasn’t prepared for how PRECIOUS they’d be in person. They came in their own little boxes and everything! With custom labels! And sealing wax! And LOVELY ART, to boot! I have to be completely honest: I teared up a bit, I was so touched.

Of course, after the manner of their parting in season 3, there was some trouble in paradise at first. Upon their reunion, Anna and Edmund understandably started out a bit awkward and uncertain with one another…

…but soon enough, they had a heart-to-heart and reconciled, as I always knew they would. Their ability to connect with one another despite their deep differences has always been a foundation of their relationship, after all.

See! Getting along famously once again – about to venture off for a quiet night of stargazing, no doubt! Or perhaps a brisk gallop across the fields!

(And if Edmund’s uniform is looking a bit rumpled, perhaps, or if anyone thinks to ask where he’s gone and lost his peruke … Well. Anna simply can’t keep her hands off the boy, as you can see.)

I think I’ll mat the art for display, and as for the happy couple, they’ve taken up residence on my bookshelf, which is where all my favorite little trinkets and precious things live. Readers of Law & Order & Authori[tea] may find it fitting that the bookshelf is also where I keep much of my tea.

I think they shall be very happy here. As they both so deeply deserve to be.

THANK YOU forever & once again to @montmartre-parapluie​! Everybody, do yourself a favor and go admire her handiwork, treat yourself to her fic, and shower her with the love she very much deserves.

Running Down a Dream: The Definitive Guide

So. Back in January of this year, when I was about eh, twenty hours into FFXV, I started a fanfic on Ao3. I thought it would just be a nice place to sock away little drabbles or short fics, here and there, that might be inspired by my playthough. I had no intentions of doing more than maybe ten of them, and I thought they’d all be too small to be stand-alone fics. So I made them chapters, though they weren’t really meant to tell any kind of overarching story. I called it Running Down a Dream, because too many things were already called Life is a Highway, and I liked the Tom Petty song better. I didn’t expect it to amount to much, really.

…The current collective word count for my FFXV works on Ao3 is 106,074 words. (My FFXV game save is about two hundred and thirty hours.) Slightly more output than I planned. Probably more than anyone expected when reading the first chapter of this five months ago! (The fact that this comes after two years of painful block following the publishing of my first novel is just the cherry on the sundae.)

So, I realize that some people might not have read RDD, because the main fic and the B-sides are marked as unfinished. That’s because they’re a collection of stand-alones and the whole thing probably won’t be finished ever– I want to leave it open so I can go in and write something whenever. Someday, I may go in and mark them as finished. Probably about thirty minutes before the Earth crashes into the Sun. But each ‘chapter’ of RDD and the B-sides is complete as is, and while there is some continuity from chapter to chapter–mostly in the form of in-jokes and relationship status–you can still go in and read any one of them, at random. But who wants to plunge into a thirty-chapter mess that’s part of a series which also has multiple-chapter fics and some of them are marked finished and some aren’t and there’s a crossover?? and what? Especially since this Tenshi no Korin person never puts in summaries that actually tell you anything and it’s always a song quote or obscure movie quote I mean, the hell?

Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. Because I’m here with the……

DEFINITIVE GUIDE TO TENSHI NO KORIN’S RUNNING DOWN A DREAM FFXV ARC SO FAR (as of 5/12/17). With links. Buckle in. Here we go.

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