working my way through prompts

So, someone asked for 75. 

“You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

In case you can’t tell from my last few drabbles, I’m feeling the pregstrid right now.

Set after HTTYD 2

“You fainted, straight into my arms.” Hiccup smirked. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Astrid pushed her bangs out of her face. The dizziness that had sent her sprawling still lingered, but at least the world was no longer spinning quite so fast. “I didn’t faint.” She grumbled.

She opened her eyes and was greeted by Stormfly’s worried face. The dragon’s head tilted in question.

“I’m okay girl,” Astrid murmured and reached up to scratch the Nadder’s neck.

Hiccup kneeled down beside Astrid “You did. You totally did.” The grin faded as he gazed at Astrid in concern. “Are you okay?”

Astrid sat up slowly. “I’m fine. And, first of all, I didn’t faint. I passed out.”

“Sure.” Hiccup offered a hand to pull Astrid to her feet. She gripped his arms as another wave of dizziness swept over her.

“Second of all, your noodle arms dropped me!”

“My noodle-? I did not drop you. Besides, I wasn’t exactly given much warning before you went down. Maybe if you’d told me you weren’t feeling well-“ Hiccup held Astrid steady as she swayed. “Look, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Ugh, I don’t feel well.” Astrid’s hand went to her queasy stomach. Stormfly was hopping around the two riders, keeping closer.

“Maybe we should head back to Berk.” Hiccup lead Astrid over to Toothless.

The two Viking’s had taken advantage of an unusually quiet morning and made their escape to the cove where Hiccup had first met Toothless. It was their go-to date spot when they wanted to be undisturbed without venturing too far for the village.

“It’s not a long flight back but you should ride with Toothless and I, just in case you feel dizzy again.” Toothless crouched so that Hiccup could help Astrid up on to the saddle.

The Deadly Nadder was watching them carefully. “I’m fine Stormfly,” Astrid tried to reassure her, though she clutched the handles on Toothless’s saddle with white knuckled.

Hiccup climbed up behind Astrid, wrapping his arms around her.

“Stormfly seems really concerned.” He mumbled into her ear. “You’ve been sick before, but I’ve never seen her quite like this. She was acting weird yesterday too. Maybe we should get you checked out.”

“Maybe you and Stormfly should relax.” Astrid had her eyes closed. Her head was tipped back against Hiccup’s chest as Toothless launched himself into the air. The motion made her stomach flip unpleasantly. “We had dinner with your mom last night, it was probably just something I ate.”

“Mom cooks just as well as you do.”

Astrid cracked an eye open to give her husband an amused looked. “We both know my cooking is bad.”

“Only when you experiment.” Hiccup brushed a hand against Astrid’s forehead. She didn’t feel warm. “And we ate the same food last night. If that was the issue, I’d be sick too.”

They were already gliding into Berk, but the short trip had turned Astrid green. As soon as Toothless touched down, she was slipping from the saddle and bending to retch onto the grass.

Hiccup jumped down to stand behind her, rubbing soothing circles on her back and holding her braid out of the way. Stormfly hovered nearby chirping anxiously.

“That’s it,” he told her when she straightened. “I’m taking you to see Gothi.”

“I don’t want to go see Gothi,” Astrid complained. “I just want to go home.”

“Fine,” Hiccup conceded, “but if you’re still sick like this tomorrow, I’m taking you to see a healer.” He led her up to their house.

Valka was inside, tidying up.

“Mom? I didn’t expect you to be here.” Hiccup left the front door open so that Toothless could follow them in. Stormfly was too wide to fit so she sat with her head poking through the doorway.

“I thought you two would be off on your little date.” Valka walked over to the couple.

“We came back early; Astrid wasn’t feeling well.” Hiccup left Astrid with his mother so he could fetch her a clean shirt.

Valka tutted in sympathy. “Oh no, Astrid dear, sit down.

“Actually, I’m feeling much better,” Astrid admitted. She took a seat by the fire. “I was feeling a bit queasy before, but that’s completely gone now.”

“Really?” Valka took a seat beside her daughter in law.

“Yeah,” Astrid shrugged. “Don’t tell Hiccup, but I was feeling a bit unwell yesterday too, but it passed pretty quickly.”

Valka looked thoughtful. She chose her next words carefully.

“Have you considered dear, that you might be pregnant?”

All the colour drained from Astrid’s face.

“What? That’s not possible, it’s been-“ She counted up on her fingers, trailing off as she added the numbers up.

Hiccup reappeared and handed Astrid her shirt. She took it with numb fingers and balled the fabric up in her fists.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He knelt down in front of her.

“I-I think I’m pregnant.”

Hiccup knelt in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“No, not completely…but… what if I am?” Astrid could feel her eyes stinging. She swiped at her eyes.

“If you were pregnant?” Hiccup took Astrid’s hands. “That would be amazing!” He leaned forward to kiss her.

Laughing, Astrid pulled away. “We don’t even know for sure! What if it is just food poisoning?”

“Whether it’s a baby or if it’s just mom’s bad cooking-“ Hiccup stood, pulling Astrid to her feet with him. “We’ll face it together.” He stepped up closer to Astrid. She tipped her face up to meet him.

Valka took the opportunity to quietly let herself out.


“I’ve been looking for a new direction anyway”

“Since you been gone
My life has moved along quite nicely actually

I’ve got a lot more friends and I don’t have to pretend
Since you’re gone, since you’re gone

Since you’re not what I want
You can take everything I’ve got
Take a seat, take the drive
If I say I love you, I am a liar”

~Since You’re Gone by The Pretty Reckless

That song is pretty much about Harper and the issue with her dad.

Thank you so much for prompting Harper, sorceressassin!
I always seem to have fun when it comes to Harper… I dunno why. Haha! This color palette on her is very interesting, too!

Hope you like this!

Check out the other color palette meme fills here! 

anonymous asked:

right, but what about whiskey/tango coming out to dex b/c they think he's queer and will support them and dex having his internal sexuality panic right then and there

Dex dropped his backpack beside the couch with a thud. He was normally more careful with it, but he’d been awake for the past 27 hours with no sleep, he’d only barely met the deadline for his Gender Studies essay, and Professor Rezendes had decided to hold back his class. For an extra 20 minutes. 

The only thing that Dex wanted to do was fall into a short coma, but sometime around 3 a.m. Tango had texted him asking if they could talk. And his 3 a.m. self thought that it would be an excellent idea. 2 p.m. Dex, however, was at the level of sleep deprivation that put him dangerously close to either homicide or insanity.

Still, he did love the tadpoles.

“What did you guys want to talk with me about again?” He asked, grabbing a stray snickerdoodle from the plate on the coffee table, actually looking towards the Tadpoles for the first time and-

Okay. So he had at least half of an idea about why Tango wanted to talk. 

They were sprawled out on the couch, Tango tucked into Whiskey’s side. Dex can’t say that he’d never suspected anything (Tango was about as close as you could get to being an open book), but he’d always thought it was one-sided. Given the lovestruck way that Whiskey was watching Tango right now, apparently not. 

Tango squinted expectantly at him. “Is it not super obvi-” 

“We’re dating.” Whiskey interrupted, side-eyeing Tango, who looked back at his boyfriend with a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ expression.

He’d totally called it, but Dex still stared blankly at them for a moment, processing the fact that the two freshman he and Nursey had practically adopted had somehow fallen in love, that he was watching his children grow up (damn he felt like Bitty), before his face split into a smile. 

“Congrats, dudes,” He said, flopping down across from them in an empty arm chair, before taking a slightly more serious tone. “Also, like, thanks for trusting me with this moment.” 

Whiskey snorted. “Bitty said the exact same thing.”

“Shitty taught us well,” Dex shrugged. “Speaking of, um, I should probably know who you’re out to, so I don’t accidentally say something to someone that you guys aren’t comfortable with.” 

“Just you and Bitty,” Tango answered cheerfully. “We don’t know when we’ll be ready to tell the others, but we felt like we could tell you two.” 

Ha, he thought, so the Tadpoles trusted me more than Nursey. Nursey can suck my ass they think I’m more- wait what?

“That’s totally cool and I respect that,” Dex asked, “But like, why not Nursey?” 

Tango fidgeted a little with the sleeve of Whiskey’s shirt. “Well, we weren’t sure if he’d be totally, um, chill, with us dating. And like, also, you know…” 

He did not know, and it must have shown on his face. 

Whiskey rolled his eyes. “Also, you know, Nursey’s not queer. We figured it would just be easier to come out to you and Bitty for now.”

Dex’s entire world seemed to shift on its axis.

“I’m not gay,” he snorted incredulously. “Like, I’m glad that you guys felt comfortable enough to come out to me, but why would you even think that?”

Tango looked quizzically at him. Whiskey raised a single, well-manicured, judgmental eyebrow. None of them spoke.

“Are you sure?” Tango asked at length, still obviously doubtful. “Are you sure you’re not at least a little gay?”

“Um, yeah?” Dex said. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed if I was into dudes by now.” 

“But what about your crush on Chris Pine?” Tango asked.

“And your sexuality rants in the dining hall?” Whiskey added.

“And how you always get onto the Lax-douches for saying no homo?” 

Dex’s brain almost short-circuited from a combination of exhaustion and shock. It almost felt like he was being fucking interrogated or something. He took a slow deep inhale before he started explaining. 

“First off, I wouldn’t say I’m gay for Chris Pine. He’s cute, but, like, even if I were gay I don’t think I’d be into him. He’s twice my age. And I rant about gender and sexuality stuff because Shitty made me promise to ‘keep the tradition alive’ when he left for Harvard and said that he trusted me, as, and I quote, ‘the angriest, most passionate motherfucker on the team’ to carry on his legacy. It’s the same reason I get onto the Lax Bros. Fuck those dudes.” 

The silence was somewhere between awkward and understanding. Dex could practically see the way the gears were turning in Tango’s head. His thoughts must’ve settled after a second or two though, because Tango’s 1000-volt smile returned. 

“Sorry for assuming, Dex,” He said. “We should’ve known better. It was nice of you to take it in stride, though. I knew we could count on you.” 

Dex smiled back, exhausted and relieved, but still glad that Tango and Whiskey felt comfortable around him. “No problem dude, we all jump to conclusions sometimes. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff Nursey used to think about me.” 

Tango’s eyes widened comically, “No! Really? What did he-” 

A buzzer went off in the kitchen, piercing and annoying. Tango’s nose wrinkled and Dex almost flinched at its sound. 

“Give me a second, I told Bitty I wouldn’t let his pie burn.” Tango said, disentangling himself from his boyfriend. Whiskey watched him leave, his eyes following his boyfriend all the way to the kitchen, but as soon as the door shut his eyes were on Dex. 

“Are you fucking with me? With the gay thing?” 

Dex was halfway between laughing and pounding his head on the table. 

“I already told you guys that I’m not gay. Jesus, calm down.” 

Whiskey leaned forward. “Then why are you always looking at Nursey like you want to fuck him senseless, move into the suburbs, and then adopt ten kids with him?” 

He scoffed, “I don’t-” 

It was like several things clicked at once. 

“I’m not into Nursey,” Dex rebutted with no actual force at all.

Whiskey raised both well-manicured, judgmental eyebrows at him this time.

“I’m not. I’m not into Nursey. I would’ve noticed or, like…” Dex trailed off as shock set in. 

Whiskey leaned back, nodding slightly. 

“Oh,” Dex said quietly. “Fuck.” 

Whiskey only hummed in solidarity. Distantly, Dex could hear Tango knock something over in the kitchen. Or maybe several somethings. 

Whiskey sighed. “I’m going to go help him, but you-” he said with a pointed look- “should probably go get some sleep. You look like you’re about to pass out or something.” 

Dex shook himself into being awake and functional enough to process that. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

He grabbed his bag off of the floor, but Whiskey grabbed his shoulder before he could leave. 

He almost looked like he had no idea what to say. “Dude, honestly just chill. You can figure everything out when you don’t look like death. I probably- shit, we probably shouldn’t have gone all Spanish Inquisition on you when you look like death. No offense or anything. Also Bitty’s gone for the weekend, so you might as well crash in his room.” 

Dex sighed, practically sobbing at the thought of getting some sleep and just not thinking about how in love he was with his best friend anything. “Yeah, I get you. I’ll just.. go crash there now.”

Whiskey let go of him gently, as if he was afraid he would tip over. 

“Cool.” He said, then looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen. “I gotta go help with whatever that was.” 

Dex nodded, already halfway in the hallway. He wanted to sleep so bad, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Nursey

God, he was so fucked.

anonymous asked:

The time when Lena made Kara eat kale.

Here it is! This was actually a lot of fun to write, but, unfortunately, I had to write the second half of it on my phone, and that’s where I’m posting it from, so it won’t be up on AO3 until tomorrow, and it might not be properly formatted, although I tried my best. Anyway, here it is, and I really hope you guys like it!

You can read it on AO3 here:

“Ma’ams?” The waiter at National City’s hottest new health craze restaurant asked, “Are you ready to order?”

Keep reading

izadoraus  asked:

For the requests that I asked before? I wanted to say 28 instead of 27, haha, silly me. Anyway, if you prefer the other requests that I asked for (26 or 8) I would prefer Marichat or Ladynoir for any of those. Thank you for answering me!

Sorry for taking so long to reply to this! It wound up a little longer than I expected. I decided to do 26 (Tending an Injury) with Marichat. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the suggestion! :)

“Ow…” Marinette winced, glancing down at her ankle. “Tikki, I think it’s sprained.”

Tikki flew down to examine it. “It looks swollen.”

Marinette grimaced and leaned back against the wall. “How am I supposed to patrol on this?”

“Maybe you should call-” Tikki paused and flew into Marinette’s purse seconds before Chat Noir landed beside Marinette.

Marinette jumped and looked up at him. “Chat Noir? What are you doing out here?” Of course, she knew exactly what he was doing out there. He was on his way to their patrol, just like Marinette. Of course, she’d managed to twist her ankle on the way, rushing to get somewhere quiet to transform after a study session with Alya ran too long.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He raised a brow.

“I…” Marinette sighed, going for the easiest lie possible. “I was on my way home. I was studying with a friend, and it went a little late. I think I hurt myself, though.”

He frowned. “What happened?”

She gestured towards her left foot. “I tripped over my own two feet and twisted my ankle.”

He knelt beside her, examining it for a moment. “It looks pretty swollen. You’re sure it’s not broken?”

“Yeah.” She grimaced. “Trust me. I know the difference.”

He stood. “Well, either way, you shouldn’t be walking anywhere. How about I help you home?”

She wanted to argue, but in all honesty, this was probably the safest option she had, so instead, she nodded. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Love your writing! Can you do all the prompts?

First Sentence Writing Prompts

Challenge accepted anon! Sorry for taking so long to get these out. Life is busy at the moment but I’ll steadily make my way through these and I’m still working on the other prompts and requests people have asked for x

8. “I don’t know how you get yourself into these situations”

Title: 32, Blonde, Big Eyes

“I don’t know how you get yourself into these situations,” Serena sighed as she watched Bernie climb out of the ambulance. “It’s like you attract chaos.”

“Good morning to you too,” Bernie smirked before she turned around to help the patient out of the back.

Serena smirked as she took in Bernie’s attire. Skin tight leggings and a cropped sports top that showed off the muscles in her torso. She tried not to let her eyes linger but she couldn’t help it when Bernie leaned over slightly, her perfectly toned arse stretching the fabric of her leggings. Serena loved seeing her partner in her running clothes.

“We have a 32 year old female, passed out on the running track,” Bernie said, turning to Serena

“The 32 year old female has a name,” the woman said with a soft laugh. Serena looked down at the woman who had just sat down in a wheelchair and froze.

“Evelyn Carter,” Bernie smiled at her and Serena felt jealousy bubble up in her chest.

Evelyn was young, big blue eyes and long shiny blonde hair. She wore similar running gear to Bernie, her small yet well defined body a feast for anyone’s eyes. Serena glanced at Bernie who was laughing at something else the young woman had said.

“Let’s get you inside then shall we?” Serena interrupted. Bernie nodded and went to grab hold of the wheelchair but Serena called a porter over to take Ms Carter to AAU. “I can take it from here Ms Wolfe,” she said, earning her a frown from Bernie.

On closer examination of Evelyn Carter they quickly discovered a small blood clot in her neck. It had been a good job really that Bernie had been the one to find her and insist on her being taken to hospital. It was a ticking time bomb to a heart attack and Serena had spent the morning in theatre removing it.

When she made her way into AAU, she was aware of the whispers immediately. The little glances people made toward her office drew her attention. Bernie was inside, leaning over their desk, her attention focused on something in front of her. It wasn’t difficult to understand why people were staring. Bernie in her running gear was a sight to behold. She couldn’t blame anyone for staring, she was just as bad when she watched her change into them early in the mornings.

“Keeping busy?” Serena asked as she passed Fletch and Raf who had been stood at the nurses station, their heads bowed close together as their eyes stared into her office.

“Ms Wolfe wants an update on the patient she brought in,” Fletch straightened up, his cheeks flashing red.

“Does she?” Serena asked with a tight lipped smile.

“I need you to sign this,” Raf handed her a file but avoided her eyes. She could tell both men where a little uncomfortable at being caught ogling the other AAU Lead.

“Anything else gentlemen or are you staring into my office for another reason?” Serena asked as she signed the file and handed it back to Raf.

Fletch laughed nervously. “You can’t blame us for looking…”

Serena raised an eyebrow at him and he stopped talking. “Want to test that theory?”

The speed with which Fletch and Raf left the nurses station was impressive.

Serena turned to look back at Bernie who was now standing at the door to their office, arms crossed over her chest and a smile on her lips. Serena sighed and walked toward her.

“Feeling a little possessive Ms Campbell?” She asked with an amused tilt of the head.

“Did you need something?” Serena asked in the same tone she’d used with Raf and Fletch.

Bernie frowned. “Is everything alright?”

Serena took a deep breath. She knew she was being unreasonable. She had no reason to be angry with the staff and certainly nothing to be angry with Bernie over. She pushed Bernie into the office so that she could close the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Serena smiled nervously. “I think l… I got a little jealous.”

“Of what?” Bernie asked.

“32, blonde, big eyes… pert in all the right places… ringing any bells?”

Bernie laughed. “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “She spends all her time at the track observing herself in every reflective surface she passes.”

“She’s a pretty girl,” Serena pointed out.

“She is,” Bernie nodded and Serena felt her chest tighten. “It’s a shame I only go for pretty women.”

Serena laughed. “Smooth,” she said, allowing Bernie to pull her in close.

“Anything else bothering you?” Bernie asked as she placed a kiss on Serena’s cheek. They had refrained from doing this in the office since Bernie’s first day back from Kiev. They didn’t want anyone watching them as they navigated their new relationship and Bernie was a private person by nature. So to feel her hands wandering under Serena’s scrubs was a surprise. A very welcome one.

“You’re very distracting in your running gear,” Serena said as she turned her head slightly. Bernie kissed the corner of her mouth.

“You’ve said that before,” Bernie grinned and grazed her teeth across Serena’s bottom lip. “I thought you enjoyed the view.”

“Oh I do,” Serena caught Bernie’s lips with her own. “But it seem that the rest of AAU also appreciate the view.”

At that, Bernie pulled away. Her face was red, her eyes worried. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms over her chest in the same way she did when she felt exposed or nervous.

“Ah,” Bernie looked to the ground.

“I was jealous that everyone else could see what is rightfully mine,” Serena said, trying to lift the mood.

Bernie smirked. “Yours?” She asked.

“Of course,” Serena smiled, pulled Bernie close to her again and at the same time reached for the blinds with her other hand.

“I think I have some spare clothes in my draw,” Bernie said as she grazed her lips across Serena’s jaw. “Care to help me change?”

Serena hooked her fingers under the crop top and grazed the underside of her breasts. “I think I have time for that.”

That was fun!! Thanks for the ask anon!

gimmebackmybrain  asked:

for promts: I'd love to see what you'd do with Victor's POV, especially if you subscribe to the headcanon of Victor with depression or similar. I've been wanting a giant Victor Angst Fest with him trying to navigate Yuuri's (unknowingly) 'mixed-signals' and his first ever roller coaster 'he loves me, he loves me not'-crush in season 1, but their time in St Petersburg from Victor's POV would be lovely as well. 'So this is what it feels like not to be lonely. But what if he leaves?' Thank you :)

Working my way through the latter half of prompts - thank you all so much for your patience!!

So first of all, thank you so much for this opportunity - it was so much fun to try! I gave your second prompt a shot. It’s bit more ‘wistful fluff’ than ‘angst’ because I seem to be incapable of making these kids permanently sad, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Also thank you so much @kevystel for encouraging me to post what I had written of this earlier this week! It seriously helped me think through this.

Fic below the cut! Also, mild warning for oblique references to depression (plus a bit of anxiety with regard to sense of self?) Also also, this owes so much to this post.

Keep reading


Take the long way, it normally turns out to be shorter. Something usually goes wrong when you try and shortcut, and then it just takes longer to fix everything when it goes wrong.


I’m slowly working my way through these.

Thank you for the prompt :D @stzrfire

* Don’t use or re-post and all that, thank you <3

anonymous asked:

au where angels go to confession

spem in alium

“I do hold regular hours for Reconciliation,” Daniel said, tugging at his collar with a free hand. (It had been bothering him all afternoon–vestments might hide that extra five pounds, but the clerical collar was much less forgiving.) “Mondays and Fridays at 5:30, it says so on our website. You don’t have to interrupt my gardening.”

“I know,” the angel said, and Daniel could hear the shifting of its wings as it found a comfortable place on the grass. “But I prefer this to the confessional.”

Daniel reached down and yanking out a weedy tangle from the flowerbed, tossing it onto the steadily-growing pile. “I’m not even sure I can hear your confession, you know. I was commissioned to absolve the frailty of men, not…”

“So you said last time. And the time before.”

Daniel sighed heavily and sat back on the grass, wiping his hands on his pants. The angel was sitting half a yard away, sifting a handful of dirt through its fingers idly. At his gaze, it straightened up, puffing out the wings around its face. The tongue of flame over its forehead sputtered, then flared brighter–in a strange way, it reminded Daniel of a woman fidgeting with her hair.

Daniel bit back a smile. “So?” he said. “Let’s hear it.”

The angel’s lipless mouth twisted in displeasure, and the bright coils around its arms roiled. “’Let’s hear it’? Is that how you begin all your confessions?”

“Well, you didn’t like ‘in the name of the Father,’ so I thought I’d try something different this time.”

The angel watched the last of the dirt slip through its fingers, then looked up at him. Its eyes were dark and deep as space, starless and cold. “There is a woman who tends a small garden behind my building. As she passed me in the hall, I blessed her knees to keep them from aching–that she might enjoy the sunshine and not think of how her daughter had not called this week.”

Daniel bit back a smile. “I see. And you feel such an action is in need of forgiveness?”

The bands of light around the angel’s arms were undulating slowly, like waves. “My orders are not to interfere with my Father’s creation.”

Keep reading

Berena fanfic prompt

Berena Prompt: they work in the same building for years. One or both might have a crush on the other. They haven’t really talked to each other than work stuff until they find themselves in the same room.


It had been two years since I’d first started working for the company. We were never introduced as I was marched past your office and ushered into my small cubicle. ‘Important and busy’ was how your were described and I was told to stay out of your way.

I suppose my feelings for you began on the very same day I started, not that I ever admitted it. The first few days, I told myself it was merely curiosity that had me watching you each time you walked past my desk. It was kindness when, a few weeks in, I thought about taking you a coffee when you had to work late. A few months later it was team building when I nearly asked you out for a drink with the other desk jockeys. The dreams started as I approached the one year mark and I knew I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was attracted to you.

It was another normal day when I was standing in the break room, leaning my elbows on the counter reading a leftover trashy magazine while I waited for my lunch to finish in the microwave.

“Working hard I see,” you said, making me jump.

In my surprise, my elbow slid off the counter and the magazine fell to the floor as I spun around to face you.

You smile at me. “You’re the solider aren’t you?” I nodded. “Heat doesn’t seem like your type of reading material.”

I follow your eyes to the magazine on the ground and quickly snatched it up. “Who doesn’t want to know what the latest…” I check the front page for the name. “Kardashian gossip is?”

You laugh and walk toward me. I had to resist the urge to back away from you. We had barely said two words to each other in all the time we’d worked together, so to suddenly be alone in a room with you… I wonder if you can hear the loud thump of my heart against my ribcage.

“How would we live without it?” You smile and run a hand through your dark hair.

I return your smile, unable to resist it, but I wasn’t entirely sure what else to say to you. This was one of my biggest downfalls; I wasn’t good at keeping a conversation going with small talk. Thankfully, the ping of the microwave meant I didn’t have to.

“It’s all yours,” I said as I quickly move away, ignoring the burning of my fingers from the plate I’d just removed from the microwave.

“I’m trying to cook more,” you said as you uncovered your pasta, preventing me from escaping to my cubicle. “Fresh, organic, homemade. I make extra so I can bring leftovers for lunch.”

“It’s good for you,” I put my plate down, unable to hold it any longer.

“I hate cooking,” you laugh and to my surprise, you pick up a clean fork from the drawer and hand it to me. I have no other option than to tuck into my food.

“I find it relaxing,” I find myself saying. “It’s soothing and it allows me to switch off.” I blush, unsure why I’m telling you all this but from the way you look at me, you don’t seem to mind. If anything, you seem… curious?

“Maybe you could cook for me one night?”

I freeze at your words. “I…”

“I have to admit that I’ve been wanting to get to know you,” you smile and give me a look that lets me know without doubt that you’re flirting with me. I begin to sweat. “What do you say, Bernie?” You lick your bottom lip and I’m lost.

“How about tonight?”

You smile as though you’ve just won a prize. “I’d love to,” you wink at me.

When you turn to check on your food, I grip the fork in my hand and allow my excitement to bubble up through my body in the form of a shimmy.

I had a date with Serena Campbell.

(Thanks for the prompt anon! I’m still, very slowly, working my way through the prompts in my inbox plus the prompts from the two lists I’ve been asked to write fics from. But if you have any ideas, send them my way and I’ll get around to them… eventually…) 

anonymous asked:

nurseydex 17 and it's the same name on each wrist lol

17. the one where your soulmate’s name is on one wrist and your enemy’s name is on the other and you have no clue which is which.

Looking back, Will thinks, it’s probably not fair that he hated Derek before he ever met him.

It’s in his nature, to fight. He grows up fighting everything–wrestling his brother, slamming people hard on the ice, crawling his way out of his piece of shit town to a scholarship at a Ivy League university. 

But the names on his wrists don’t help. Perfect text, scrolling across his skin–and matching. Derek and Derek, like the whole universe is laughing at him. And maybe it is. Two matching names, two matching male names. 

If he wasn’t already fighting, he’d start now.

By the time he gets to Samwell, he’s already done with Derek, whoever Derek is. 

Just his luck that Derek is Derek Nurse, Will’s height, and broad-shouldered, and muscled from hockey, and grinning at Will, his green eyes bright and so gorgeous Will wants to bolt out of his tour group and jump on the first bus back to Maine. 

They clasp hands, though, because it’s the part of the tour, and Will’s wrists burn like he’s been branded.

“Holy shit,” Derek says, his eyes wide. “Holy shit–William, right?”

“It’s Dex,” Will says. 

Derek is still staring at him. He has his sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and Will looks, because he has to, and–


Derek’s wrists match, too.

Will drops his hand, shoving both of his into his pockets. “It’s just Dex,” he says, stepping back. 

“Wait,” Derek says, reaching for him.

Will bolts.

And then, because it’s habit–he starts fighting.

It’s almost a relief when Derek starts fighting back.

Except that it isn’t. Because Derek fights as dirty as Will does but looks way better doing it, and Will can barely focus on yelling at him without getting distracted by his stupid eyes and his stupid hair and his stupid face and just–everything. And it’s not supposed to come onto the ice, but of course it fucking does, and then Chowder’s mad at them, and–

Well. It’s only a matter of time.

The basement door closes behind them, and Will slumps back against the dryer. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Next to him, Derek snorts. “Might smooth things out,” he says. “You wanna give it a try?”

Will scowls at him. “Don’t even joke,” he snaps, and Derek flinches, and then sighs. For the first time in weeks, the fight seems to go out of Derek’s face, and something twists inside his chest as he watches Derek sit down on the floor, leaning up against the beaten-up couch across from the laundry machines. Will hesitates, and then, because his stupid heart won’t let him not, sits down next to him.

For a few moments, they sit in uncertain silence, almost close enough to touch, but not reaching out.

Derek speaks first. “I dated a William in high school,” he says.

It’s not what Will’s expecting. “What?”

He looks up, but Derek’s looking at the floor, not at him. “It was my freshman year,” he says. “He was a senior. But like–I had his name on my wrist, you know? And the first time he touched me, it was like what happened with us. Just–instant. Electric.” He glances up. 

Throat tight, Will nods. He remembers. “What happened?”

Derek shrugs. “Turned out to not be such a nice guy.” He curls his fingers over his right wrist, briefly, and then presses his lips together. “I’m just saying,” he says, and hesitates. When he speaks again, he sounds nervous. “Just because it’s the same name doesn’t mean it’s the same person.”

Will opens his mouth. His first instinct, feral and automatic, is to push. To say, yeah, but both of my wrists burned. To say, you don’t know what I went through, having your name on my skin

But as much as he’s used to pushing, Derek Nurse’s eyes are–

He takes a breath. “I,” he says, and his voice comes out low, and uncertain, and small. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Derek’s hand slips into his. The skin of his wrist is warm against Will’s. It doesn’t burn, doesn’t itch. It–fits.

“Good,” Derek says. “Me neither.”

fbexplorer  asked:

tarsus prompt: Chekov and/or Sulu find out, against Jim's wishes, how does he react?

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. We found Mr. Spock’s in his full Starfleet file, did we not?”

“Yeah, but Spock’s file didn’t have a dozen ‘classified’ markers on it.”

“You are exaggerating, Hikaru, zere are only four markers on ze Keptin’s file.”

“We could get into a lot of trouble for hacking his file like this,” Hikaru mused, knocking back another gulp of Pavel’s favorite brand of scotch. “But to be fair, Kirk’s done his fair share of hacking for a good cause, and this certainly qualifies.”

“Zat’s ze spirit!” Pavel grinned, clinking his glass against Hikaru’s.

Keep reading

Fic: Misinterpretation

Josh has some feelings. Donna is way off the mark. For the prompt “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” as requested a horribly long time ago by pillnerforpawnee. Rated G.

Also on AO3.

‘It’s not like there are many women just wandering around the office that you’d want to date.’

Keep reading


Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader
Prompt: @scarletraine requested 38 “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” and 27 “I’m Pregnant.”
Wordcount: 1,450
Warnings: nope, though I think Graves himself should come with a warning.

A/N: Yeah I feel like this is kinda rubbish, idk but I’m sorry. I should’ve been revising but instead I am trash so I wrote this. Also thank you to everyone else who has sent me prompts/requests. I am working my way through them (slowly) but my exams start on monday so I may need a week off. But after this next week I will be back with a vengeance

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey could you do a amnesia!derek who thinks that he and stiles are dating/married because stiles is always over his loft and some things have made their way over? And he's really confused as to why stiles is so sad when he says he loves him? Please?!

Anon, did you know there is an EXACT version of this fic, only it’s Stiles that has the amnesia? No? Well you should read it. It’s way better than mine, but have this version anyway. :)

Derek knows three things.

He knows that he’s lost his entire family in a fire he still blames himself for even though he’s been told it’s not his fault. He knows that he’s been in some sort of accident that has caused him to forget everything after that fire.

And he knows that he loves the boy that comes to check on him every day, sometimes more than once a day.

Keep reading

More Writing Prompts...

Because I’m addicted. I’m still working my way through my inbox of some of the four-word prompts and the 200 Followers Celebration Prompts. I wanted to go ahead and get some of these started for after I finish all of those because I LOVE DOING THIS. <3

I will only do one of each of these since there are so many. Send me your word of choice and ML pairing. You can submit anonymously, but actual names always get priority. :) There is also the possibility of art with the story if I have the time.

1. Running     2. Zoo     3. Gummy bears     4. Backpack     5. Ribbon     6. Card game     7. Map     8. Philosopher     9. Magic     10. Cast     11. Shaving Cream     12. Cactus     13. Desperate     14. Giraffe     15. Facial     16. Dust     17. Will     18. Computer     19. Skunk     20. Hurdle     21. Koala     22. Retail     23.Loveseat     24. Quicksand     25. Chess     26. Found     27. Gasoline         28. Infection     29. Fork     30. Trap     31. Pride     32. Fragment     33. Blueprint     34. Zero     35. Tights     36. Survival     37. Century     38. Dominoes     39. Coal     40. Pendulum     41. Cowboy     42. Snowflake     43. Ghost     44. Climb        45. Landing     46. Silhouette     47. Applesauce     48. Fairytale     49. Regret     50. Blackout

anonymous asked:

Writing prompt: McCoy get's hit on by another Vulcan travelling with them. Spock gets jealous.

I need to get my writing mojo going and kill some time! Send me a ship or a character, and a word (or an au) and I’ll write a 500-1000 word drabble for it.

Leonard hates playing at diplomacy. Their dress uniforms are itchy as hell with the added bonus of being just as stifling as any, and all, conversations during dimplomatic events. There’s a certain ritual and political dance that Leonard can’t be bothered to follow because he honestly can’t be bothered to use what little patience he has talking around pleasantries while simultaneously trying to avoid insulting the person he’s supposed to be chatting up.

Really, it’s all just a big migraine waiting to happen.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Leonard mutters under his breath.

“Because Starfleet has commanded us to escort the ambassador to Cretia in order to provide both protection and an image of power, since this is Ambassador Talek’s first assignment,” Spock supplies helpfully.

He has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the Vulcan. Trust Spock to answer a rhetorical question and completely miss the point at the same time. “I know that,” he grumbles. “What I meant was, why do I have to be here dressed in this itchy monkey suit to greet the man? I’m a doctor, not a diplomat.”

“You’re also one of the senior officers on the ship, Bones.” Jim comes out of nowhere and drapes an arm lazily around Leonard’s shoulders.

Leonard is not in the mood. He pinches the skin on the back of Jim’s hand and lifts it off his shoulders, ducking out from under it.

“Besides, your ass looks great in that uniform.”

Leonard narrows his eyes.

“I must agree with the captain,” Spock starts.

Leonard groans. “I don’t need a lecture from both of you about my duties-”

“The cut of that particular uniform accents the appealing shape of your ass quite alluringly, Leonard.”

Leonard stares at Spock; Jim stares at Spock. Spock merely lifts an eyebrow at them, as if he’s just given them information about who’s on the next shift instead of complimenting Leonard’s ass in the middle of a crowded corridor.

“Captain, the ambassador is docking his shuttle,” Spock continues on, ignoring the look Leonard shoots him.

It’s impeccable timing really, and Spock had almost definitely planned it that way. As soon as he says it, the doors to the shuttle bay open to reveal the Vulcan ambassador to Cretia, along with the rest of his staff.

“Welcome, Ambassador Talek.” Jim slides into charming diplomat like a second skin, raising his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.

“Greetings, Captain Kirk,” the ambassador greets coolly, raising his hand to return the salute.

“Welcome to the Enterprise,” Jim continues. He falls into step beside the ambassador, silently leading him past the senior staff that had gathered to greet their important visitor.

Talek stops in front of Leonard, and stares at him.

Leonard shifts uncomfortably. Unclasping his hands behind his back, he offers an awkward, late, salute. “Ah, welcome,” he starts.

“You are Doctor Leonard McCoy.” It’s not a question, and there’s a certain tone in his voice that Leonard thinks he might recognize; it’s kind of like Spock when he’s paying Leonard a compliment.

“Ah yeah. Yeah that’s me.”

“I took the liberty of researching the crew of this ship, and I found your research to be both fascinating and intriguing.”

Leonard really doesn’t like being reduced to stunned speechlessness by Vulcan’s. Spock has an excuse, he’ll put up with it from him, but not from some stranger. “Do you now?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. He knows Vulcans are beyond sparse with their praise, and to have a stranger complimenting him-

He risks a glance to his side, and notes that Spock has become decidedly tense, his gaze fixed on the ambassador.

“Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner in my suite tonight? I would greatly enjoy the chance to discuss some of your theories regarding xenobiology in greater detail.”

Honestly, Leonard is flattered. He doesn’t need Jim nodding frantically behind the ambassador to encourage him to accept. “Yeah, of course. I don’t get to talk much about my papers round here.”

Talek inclines his head. “I look forward to it. Thank you, Doctor McCoy.” Talek lowers his hand. Leonard hardn’t thought they were that close, but he swears he felt a light touch on the back of his hand as the ambassador continued down the corridor.

Leonard watches him go, and shakes his head slightly when he turns the corner. “Well I’ll be. I never thought-”

He doesn’t even get to finish that thought. Instead he finds himself abruptly pinned against the wall, Spock’s hand resting lightly on his neck to pull him forward into a kiss. Leonard responds immediately, his lips part, and he can feel a surprising tingle of possessiveness passing to him from Spock.

“Are-” Leonard breaks the kiss, pulling back to meet Spock’s eyes, smiling at him. “Are you jealous, darlin?”

“He was flirting with you,” Spock responds, “I do not want you to dine with him tonight.” Spock pulls Leonard in for another kiss.

“Well, bless your heart,” Leonard laughs, kissing Spock back indulgently. “You could always just join us. I might even be persuaded to let you demonstrate how much you want t’ keep me all to yourself after we play nice with the ambassador.”

The next kiss steals his breath away and leaves his head spinning, and in no doubt about the acceptance of his proposal.

qvoro  asked:

♘♘♘♘♘♘♘♘ ( r h a c k ) 👏👏👏👏❤❤ plz

♘:   Cuddling in a blanket fort

I skipped “cuddling” and went straight for “making out,” I hope that’s ok. ;) Set in a vague domestic AU where Angel is much younger.

“Tell me why I agreed to this, again,” Jack complains even as he ensures the blanket is tucked in firmly between the couch cushions.

“Because Angel will love it, now hush and help me get these lights up.” Jack grumbles to himself but he crawls over - there’s definitely not room to stand in here - and helps Rhys affix the string of lights to the tall chair propping up the center “roof” of what Jack is generously calling a “fort.” Rhys leans over and plugs the lights in, and as the gentle glow illuminates this space they’ve created Jack grudgingly admits that Angel will, in fact, love it.

Jack checks his watch. She won’t be home for half an hour, though. Jack grins to himself. Plenty of time.

Jack shuffles himself over to where Rhys is double-checking the fastenings holding the blankets over their heads together. He slides one hand up the back of Rhys’ shirt and the other down his leg, nosing into Rhys’ neck where he knows Rhys is sensitive, and sure enough Rhys shivers against him.

“Stop that,” Rhys hisses, although he sounds more turned on than put out. “She’ll be home any minute.”

“Nah,” Jack says, nibbling on Rhys’ ear and grinning at the way Rhys’ inhale turns shaky. “We’ve got a few minutes. Be a shame to waste ‘em.”

Fine. A few minutes.” But Rhys is grinning when he meets Jack’s lips with his, and when he leans back he fists a hand in Jack’s shirt and pulls Jack down with him. Jack is more than happy to follow, caging Rhys’ body with his arms and legs and matching Rhys’ grin with his own. Jack runs a hand through Rhys’ hair and tugs, the way he knows Rhys likes, and Rhys groans into his mouth and tightens his grip on Jack’s shoulder.

Things are just getting interesting, one of Jack’s legs between Rhys’ and Rhys arching up into him, when there’s the snick of Angel’s key in the lock.

Rhys starts underneath him, and then his hands, which had been pulling Jack closer, are suddenly shoving him away. Rhys twists out from underneath him, flushed and trying to put his clothes back in some sort of order as Angel opens the door and squeals with delight. There’s a thump as she drops her backpack on the floor, and then she’s scrambling through the flaps that Rhys tied open as a “doorway,” beaming.

“Dad! Daddy! Did you make this? This is so cool!” She’s practically bouncing in place with excitement, and Jack can’t help but smile and pull her into his arms.

“Sure did, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of her head. “It was his idea,” he adds, because credit where credit is due and all that.

Angel squirms out of his arms and throws herself in Rhys’, who catches her admirably and grins down at her as she throws her arms around his neck. “This is the best thing ever,” she proclaims, and as Jack watches Rhys smile down at his daughter, who is chattering away about how she’s going to read in here and do homework and oooooh, can she have a sleepover? - as Jack watches his little family he thinks that yeah, yeah it is.

(Fic Meme)

anonymous asked:

If you're still doing prompts, maybe Felicity finding out the fandom-wide headcanon of why Isabel hated her? (thank you Captain Amell)

“You know what I never got?”

“Hmm?” Oliver asked, looking at her as he bit into his apple. She watched a thin line of juice slide down his chin, through his beard - and it was becoming a beard, after she’d told him she refused to kiss him if he insisted on growing his Pornstache. He wiped it away, his eyes on her, the innuendo obvious. She rolled her eyes because honestly, eating an apple shouldn’t be so hot. It was an apple. Food. Sustenance.


Oh my god.

“What did you never get?” Oliver prompted, bumping his shoulder with hers. She bumped him back and he made a face, which only emphasized how sun-burned he was; it was almost as bad as her shoulders, but that darn well wasn’t going to stop them from enjoying the dock they currently sat at the end of, their feet in the cool water of the lake, the sun blinding them when it hit the water just right.

“Why Isabel hated me so much.” Oliver stiffened, and Felicity just looked at him. He always got weird when anyone mentioned Isabel Rochev - and who could blame him? He’d slept with his father’s mistress, that’s not exactly something you write home about. “I mean, I know why she didn’t like you - well, why she hated everyone in the Queen family - and she did have about twenty-seven screws loose, but she really didn’t like me. What did I ever do to her?”

Oliver made a noncommittal sound.

“I wasn’t very nice to her… although she wasn’t very nice either, but we were at least cordial, in that ‘hey, we don’t like each other because our basic moral codes are so different, but let’s be nice’ sort of way. But I must have done something, because one day she walked into the office and if looks could kill, Oliver, I would have been a pile of dust. No, not even dust, I would have completely ceased to exist. And let me tell you, that woman could glare. When people talk about resting bitch face, she wins. Every time.”

Oliver swallowed his apple bite and shook his head. “It wasn’t you.”

“I don’t know about that, it felt pretty pointed.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t. You, uh…” Oliver cleared his throat, pinching his lips. “Well, you know I slept… with her. In Russia.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I remember, I was there. I mean, I wasn’t there, in the room, because wow, talk about awkward, but yes. I remember. Vividly.”

Oliver licked his lips, the stiffness in his shoulders growing, well, stiffer. “I might have said something I shouldn’t have said. During that… visit.”

“What?” Oliver opened his mouth to respond, still staring out at the lake, before he changed his mind. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s something.”

“What? Come on, the suspense is killing me.”

“I said the wrong name,” he said, glancing down at his apple before looking at her. “When I was with her.”

The realization hit her instantly and her eyes widened. “What?”




“But…” Felicity shook her head. “That was… that was forever ago, why were you saying… my name. Oh my god, it was my name right?”

Oliver’s chuckle was involuntary, and he shook his head as he said, “Yes,” before he took another bite of his apple. He chewed, like he was trying to organize his thoughts, and she waited because this… this wasn’t a small thing. “I think I realized I was in love with you around that time. Well, not that sort of revelation, but I knew there was something… more. Maybe not when I called her your name, but definitely when I opened the door and saw you. I didn’t like the way I felt, especially when I saw that look on your face.”

“But you… never said anything.” Oliver slid her a long look and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot trying to get you to talk about anything during that time was like trying to teach a brick wall the ABC’s.”

Oliver snorted, giving her that. “Do you remember when I said I didn’t think I could be with anyone, at least anyone I could really care about?”


“Yeah. Oh.”

“I mean, I knew there was something, because you talked about it later, but… oh.”

The only sound between them for a long moment was the soft push of water hitting the dock, a frog on the shore and the subtle sound of cicadas echoing.

“I think I would’ve hated me too,” Felicity finally said and Oliver laughed again, leaning over to kiss the side of her neck. Felicity repaid him by snatching his apple, taking a bite as he scooted closer to her, neither caring that it was too hot for snuggling.

(Beautiful Human Squad under the cut…)

Keep reading