#fliclet

[stevieschrodinger]

So here we have Eddie Munson, wild child, irresponsible Omega.

Gets himself knocked up, because of course he does. Isn't even sure who the Alpha is.

Eddie Munson; father to an hours old pup. Eddie Munson is still in highschool because he fucked senior year royally. He lives in a one bed trailer with his uncle that is not, in any way, equipped for a pup. Eddie Munson who already has an arrest record and is quite clearly still slinging drugs on the side.

Absolutely not; CPS takes his pup before she's a day old.

Eddie Munson rails against it, screams about it, cries about it, has a fucking come to Jesus moment with himself at three in the morning and he's still wearing the godamn stupid pants from the hospital because his ass is leaking and his tits are sore and god dammit he's getting his pup back.

He sells the last of his stock the next day, drops highschool and job hunts like his life depends on it. Still needs a place that's not the trailer; no one will rent to an unmated single Omega. He won't get his pup back as a single Omega.

Enter Eddie's best friend: Jeff. More importantly, Alpha Jeff. Who does Eddie an absolute fucking solid and agrees to move in with him. So they do. And they pretend to be a couple to get Eddie's pup back.

Unfortunately, Steve Harrington has seen it all before and sees through them in about thirty seconds flat. They even have two bedrooms and one is clearly Eddie's and one is clearly Jeff's and they confidently lie to Steve's face and tell him they had a friend stay last night, that's all, this will be the pups room.

There's an actual crib in Eddie's room already; Steve doesn't say shit.

Because the thing is, Steve's fostered pups from actually abusive homes and neglect ridden situations, and this isn't that.

And the few times he sees Eddie and Jeff together, pretending to be a couple it's just...painful. Jeff puts his arm around Eddie one time and Eddie actually pulls away instinctively,, a 'what the fuck is this?' expression clear on his face until he realizes and makes himself sink back into it.

They tried to hold hands one time. It almost turned into a thumb war.

Eddie might be lying through his teeth, but he's a desperate Omega who just wants his baby back. So Steve starts the process, signs off on the supervised visits, and spends eight weeks watching Eddie Munson be the best parent anyone could hope for.

Inconveniently, Steve spends those eight weeks falling in love.

And they go on like that, until Steve bumps into Jeff and his girlfriend somewhere, and Jeff fucking panics and drops the girls hand line it's on fire, and the girl gets the most offended fucking look on her face and it's everything Steve can do not to burst out fucking laughing. And Jeff is trying to sputter an explanation which is turning his girlfriend incandescent with rage, "you said you were just friends! Is that your pup??!"

And Steve is actually frightened for Jeff at this point because this girl looks like she is ready to start throwing down so Steve has to just admit, that he knows. He's known right from the start.

Eddie nor Jeff can't lie for shit.

And he talks the girl down, "so Jeff is actually a really great guy, he's just been trying to help Eddie get his pup back," and the girl melts at the story.

Eddie doesn't. Eddie fucking freaks out. Thinks he's about to loose his pup all over again.

But Steve has an alternative suggestion, and it starts by asking Eddie "what are you doing this Friday? Can I take you to dinner?"

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #omega eddie because he's so pretty #alpha steve harrington #fliclet #fic ideas

[film-in-my-soul]

Ficlet Bingo: Whump Hangster please!

Warning: Vague depictions of bodily injury

.⋆｡°✩ Jake is hurt. But it's alright. Bradley is there. ✩°｡⋆.

His ears are ringing, but that's not the half of it; it's just the half that's the most present while his eyes are still closed, and his body is deciding what the hell it wants to focus on first. Apparently, when he tries to suck in a breath to regain the air he's lost, his broken ribs win out. He's saved from screaming because he didn't manage that breath after all.

Opening his eyes seems impossible, not with the way alarms are turning his brain into a house fire, and the idea of even twitching is threatening an insurmountable kind of panic into his throat. Still, there's a background frequency to the pain and flaring in his brain, a loop of memorable shouts from COs and his father that forces him to shove down all the rolling fear trying to eat him alive.

'Don't you quit now cadet!'

'The Navy doesn't let little boys into planes, Seresin. You a little boy? Then stop acting like one!'

'I didn't raise my son to cry over scraped knees, Jake. Pick yourself up and stop throwing dirt on the Sere-'

"-sin! Hangman!"

The loop escapes his ears and unfurls into the open. For a terrifying second, Jake thinks he's starting to lose it. He can't tell if he's bleeding out, doesn't know if the aching all over his body is accompanied by lacerations or worse, so it's possible he's dying right now and doesn't know it. But-

"Jake," the voice is closer now, and Jake, sucking in the smallest breath he can manage, ignoring the nausea at the rattle in his lungs when it blows out, recognizes it.

"-shaw," he can't get the whole word to form, not past the ragged cough that racks him and lights his chest up like an angry Christmas tree, all fuckshitow and red.

He attempts to do it again but comes up empty, and then he redirects his energy into opening his eyes because talking is apparently out of the question. He's just managing it, blinking grit and what's probably blood out of them, when a shadow falls over his body, and the ground vibrates with how hard Rooster hits his knees next to where Jake's sprawled out.

He thinks he might say something when the other man's face swims into focus, but between his body deciding it really needs him to know it's fucked in some significant way and managing the feat of seeing, it doesn't come out as more than a slur. It makes Rooster's eyebrows scrunch and his mouth pucker, ugly and a little wrecked, so Jake doesn't try again.

"Fuck," Rooster curses under his breath like he's hoping Jake doesn't catch it. It wouldn't matter if he didn't; the sentiment is a shared one, and if he thought he could nod in agreement without throwing up or screaming, he would.

Jake doesn't realize his eyes are slipping closed again until there's a warm, soft pressure on his cheek, tapping at it with shaking fingers.

"Hey, hey, don't you fucking close your eyes, Jake." Rooster's voice is choked, wet like Jake's cough had been, and it's the worry that maybe Rooster had gotten just as messed up as Jake had that has him forcing his lids back up, trying to search for injuries his slowly melting brain hadn't caught.

He doesn't see any, but the way Rooster smiles, wobbly, as he strokes his thumb over Jake's slowly numbing skin is enough of a reward to try and keep his eyes from slipping closed again.

Rooster's doing something with his other hand, poking and prodding, maybe inspecting Jake to find out if he's all still in one piece, but he doesn't leave, and he doesn't take his hand off Jake's face, keeping up the point of contact like it's enough of a comfort to weather the storm of hurt Jake's slowly becoming detached from.

Eventually, he must run out of things to look at, or maybe he just can't stomach it anymore because his attention drifts back to Jake's face. He gets closer, bending over far enough that their foreheads knock together, his hand slipping from Jake's skin to the front of his top, twisting into the fabric and holding on so tight that it almost jostles his no-doubt mangled torso.

"I've got you, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay. I've got you."

Jake doesn't mean to blink and not open his eyes for a second time, but he can't help. Regardless, with Rooster clutching at him, murmuring into his hair, and doing something that might be calling for help, it's alright. Because Jake's gonna be okay.

Bradley said so.

Ficlet Bingo!

#hangster #sereshaw #ficlet #hangster ficlet #top gun fliclet #ficlet bingo #blog game

[bryndeavour]

Fandom: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Max DeBryn/Endeavour Morse Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Neurodivergent Morse, Comfort, Just a couple of guys living the life, sometimes we need to be crushed by our heavier spouse Summary:

“Max.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Come over here. Crush me."

#my writing #max and morse #morse and max #i just wanted to finish something with them #this wip was just a sloppy outline #so i made it a fluffy fliclet

[putellas14]

Hey! I just wanted to say that the Jenni Hermoso fliclet was amazing I'm already waiting for the part 2 you are really talented writing 🙌

You are really sweet. I’m glad you liked it! 💜

This fic is really close to home at the moment. I have ideas for part 2 and am hoping to be able to write it soon. But it hurts, you know? And I can’t lie and say I didn’t cry writing this part of it.

#ask

[zombie-rott]

Would anyone go for a short fliclet about one of the Papa's (prob Terzo, let's be honest) dealing with you owning a cat? And when you move into his suite (because, you're in love, right?) the cat has to come too and he's aprehensive because they 'aren't his thing.'

But unholy Gods - he ends up loving that little gremlin?

#the band ghost #ghost band #fic ideas

[faunawoodsart]

I deleted the fliclet cause I wasn't happy with it. Shit happens lol

[ao3feeddestiel]

destiel ficlets

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hETPlzr by carnationqueen i'm planning to make this a collection of fliclets. It's mostly a writing exercise for me to practice different styles and *vibes*. As such they will not be connected. I have no plans for their contents, so i will update tags and rating as required. Words: 371, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Ficlet Collection, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Feelings, Dean Winchester Has Sexuality Realizations, Human Castiel (Supernatural) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hETPlzr

#IFTTT #destiel ficlets #carnationqueen

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

destiel ficlets

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/5OM3AGI by carnationqueen i'm planning to make this a collection of fliclets. It's mostly a writing exercise for me to practice different styles and *vibes*. As such they will not be connected. I have no plans for their contents, so i will update tags and rating as required. Words: 371, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Ficlet Collection, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Feelings, Dean Winchester Has Sexuality Realizations, Human Castiel (Supernatural) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/5OM3AGI

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #(your tags here)

[ze-ppe-li]

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭

Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ

Thank you for entering this blog, if you liked my content and would like to request, you must take into account some rules.

I appreciate all your requests, but some I simply won't be able to write, however, I will NEVER ignore them (I avoid being rude, at least in this blog), I will just let you know by explaining the reason.

Requests are closed.

Depending on my decision, some requests I will write as fliclets, others as drabbles, and some as one shots. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, so it's going to be more than common to encounter critical grammatical errors, please do not point them out or I'll cry

I write ONLY lesbian/wlw content, I'll not write for male reader, nor AMAB.

I won't write about male idols either, It's just that when it comes to music made by men, I prefer to listen to problematic hot rockstar dudes.

If the post is smut, it can contain g!p stuff.

I will not write nsfw content of underage idols.

I decide who's top or bottom, for more information, see this post.

I would appreciate it if you could give me a theme, setting, idea, etc. I may not follow what you tell step by step, and I may also give it my personal touch, but I will take the basis of your idea.

I accept omegaverse requests, although it will take me a little longer to write them than other requests on other plots.

If you want a scenario/imagine/ficlet/etc. and you want it with G!P, you must mention it, or else I will assume you want it without G!P.

𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵐᵃᶰʸ ᵍʳᵒᵘᵖˢ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᶤᶜᵘˡᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ˢᵒ ⁽ᵖˡᵘˢ ᴷᵖᵒᵖ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵉᶰʳᵉ ᴵ ˡᶤˢᵗᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ˒ ˢᵒˑˑˑ⁾

BLACKPINK

TWICE

RED VELVET

ITZY

ÆSPA

(G)I-DLE

LE SSERAFIM

NMIXX (with some difficulty for all members except Lily and Bae)

IVE (With some difficulty writing for Gaeul)

IZ*ONE

MAMAMOO (reserved for scenarios)

#request rules #kpop x reader #wlw #wlw nsft

[stevieschrodinger]

“Rob, come on!”

“Don’t you ‘come on!’ me!”

Steve immediately snorts a laugh.

Rob gets all flustered, “I didn’t- I mean- oh fuck you very much Harrington.”

“Don’t worry Rob,” Steve chokes out around his laughter, “I’ll try not to come- try not to get it- oh my god,” Steve dissolves into breathless laughter.

Rob slaps the manila file into Steve’s hands, “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” and she marches off down the corridor, kitten heals clacking on the linoleum.

Steve jogs to catch up, “what would Vicki say?” Steve asks, mock scandalized.

She cuts her eyes at him, scowling from behind her too long bangs, “don’t even joke.”

Steve opens the file while Robin pulls out her key card and straightens her jacket. What she wears is far more stylish than what she did when they were teenagers, but she’s never quite grown out of being a little gangly. Where Steve filled out even further, what with the morning runs and evening swims, weekends spent at the local gym and basketball court, Robin has always remained very slim. She looks good today though, she’s definitely grown up, but thank god she never grew out of being Robin – for some reason today she’s paired an emerald green jacket with navy pinstripe pants and shiny, cherry red shoes and somehow, it kind of, sort of, works.

It’s probably the colorful scarf pulling it together, or something.

“The files a little light,” Steve comments as she activates the security lock and holds the door open for him to pass through.

“Yeap. First fourteen years are...pretty vague. I’ve tracked the parents; the mother’s been dead a few years,” Steve makes a face, “and the dad is a guest of the state,” Steve can feel his face crumple even further. “Yeah. He’d been in and out for a while, assault, aggravated assault, theft, possession, possession with intent, honestly it’s a laundry list, the one that stuck was manslaughter.”

“Oh man, not the mom,” Robin makes a face in answer, “fucking hell.”

Robin holds up her badge for security to see, and they get buzzed through. Steve’s nose tickles with all the Omega scents.

“Luckily he wasn’t around at the end, I don’t know if he even knows about his parents. They kicked him out when he presented,” Steve tuts, “yeah, I know, but it was actually the best thing they ever did for him. He was picked up by his uncle, dad’s brother. The guy had regular, full time employment, suddenly the kid’s got medical records, there’s regular prescriptions for blockers and birth control, his school attendance goes from fifty five percent to ninety seven.”

“So the uncle is a good guy?”

Robin sighs, nods, “hopefully he pulls through.”

Steve continues to scan the file as Robin stops them at the final doorway, leaning against the closed door, “says here he’s non verbal?”

“Most of the time, it’s behavioral, he can speak, does, occasionally. We picked him up from the hospital; he’d gone in with his uncle, cardiac arrest that led to some complications, he's had a couple of surgeries already, but he might be in for a while. He's waiting for a pacemaker now, I think.”

“Shitty.”

“Yeah. Steve, listen a second. This kid...it could be anything. He was clearly malnourished growing up, this could be a trauma response. He might suffer with PTSD, might get separation anxiety-”

“Yeah, Rob, I get it.”

“I just,” she deflates a little, hopeless, “this isn’t the place for him. The other Omega, they mean well, they try and include him, and you know what they’re like, curious about new people, but that just drives him away. He doesn’t come out of his room much. Stopped coming into the dining hall for meals; I tried to wait it out, thought if he got hungry enough he’d cave,” she spreads her hands, “nada. I had to cave; he just eats in his room. And he’s terrible with food. Basically unless it’s been shaped into a nugget or came out of a can, he doesn’t get it. Like he’s never even seen real food before...this just...it’s not the place for him here Steve. All the others, it’s like...like a camp out for them, you know? Not him though, he needs some stability. He needs a home.”

“I get it Rob, it’s not my first rodeo.”

“I know, I know, that’s why I called you first, obviously...it’s just. I know it’s a lot. And I know it’s hard on you, after.”

Steve thinks of Dustin, who still calls him the first Sunday of every month without fail; how he’s expecting his first pup with his mate Suzie. Thinks of Max, how fierce she is, how close they got even in the short time they were together. Her mom made it through rehab though, and got custody back. She still drops by sometimes, and Steve loves to see her. The last time she brought her new boyfriend, Lucas, with her, looking for approval from the only father figure she’s ever really had. The Byers boys who came into his care when their mother had some sort of psychotic episode. How the Beta Jonathan had been so stand offish, where Will, too young to have presented yet, had sort Steve out to cuddle into every night. It was bittersweet, the day Joyce got custody back; Steve was glad it worked out for them, but he was still devastated to see them go.

He’s helped out with a lot of kids over the last six years; he can do this.

“It is...but it’s worth it.”

“Steve,” Robin touches his arm, briefly, “this one will be worse. Fostering kids is one thing, being a temporary pack Alpha for them...Eddie is two months off being eighteen years old, legally able to take a mate, potentially sexually active-”

“Rob, I’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. And if he needs me,” Steve shrugs, “it is what it is.”

“Steve,” she tries again, voice gentle, “I just need you to be sure.”

Steve’s only had one other Omega in his care who was old enough to need Steve in a sexual manner, as well as all the other needs that the people in his temporary pack often have; when she left it was...bad. Neither of them ever say Nancy’s name out loud, haven’t for a couple of years. But Steve knows now, what it is he’s getting into.

He knows this has the potential to be painful, he’s broken enough bonds now. Pack scent bonds; it’s unavoidable. It’s the support of an Alpha, it’s exactly what Steve is there to provide. What happens after will not be Eddie’s problem; it’ll be Steve’s.

And he won’t make the mistake he made with Nancy. This time he’ll remember that Eddie’s going to leave, won’t let himself fall into the illusion that it’s real. He knows now, that it hurts.

Just like it has every other time, when his new pack leaves.

“It’ll be fine Rob. I’ll be fine.”

She bites her lip, not looking sure at all, but she nods and leans more against the door, pushing it open with her shoulder as Steve follows her though. There’s laughter along the hall, two young Omega playing chase rush past them, “take it outside please!” Robin yells after them.

Steve tags along, knows all the doorways are bedrooms; young Omega on this wing, all in need of a safe haven. Steve can hear the bustle and chatter of the dining room, the clatter and scrape of cutlery loud as they pass the doorway. At the very end of the hall, the last door stands propped open by a plastic chair, there’s a red plastic tray with a plate sitting on it. There’s evidence of crumbs and sauce from what had been eaten, but the peas haven’t been touched. The window is open too, letting in a fresh breeze. The Omega is curled up, wedged in the corner of the room on his single bed, a book held open in his hand as he stares at them in the doorway.

“You know you won’t die if you eat a green thing, right?” Robin asks him.

He tilts his head, his curly hair shifting, and purses his lips, kind of frowning with one eyebrow quirked up, to Steve is sort of says, ‘why take the risk?’. Steve has to school his features so he doesn’t laugh.

“Okay Eddie, this is Steve, and he’s been kind enough to offer to put a roof over your head for the next little while, how does that sound?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Good enough for me,” Robin replies like Eddie’s spoken, “okay, pack your things.”

It’s not a scowl, not really, but the way Eddie side eyes the radio means...well, Steve’s not even sure what it means, “you can change it, if you like.”

Eddie huffs and shrugs, crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in the car seat, looking out of the window. The next song comes on; Steve pretty sure it’s Taylor Swift, and Eddie suddenly lunges for the radio. He presses the seek button until he hits something that, to Steve, sounds like two angry guitars hate fucking in a bear infested mine, but he lets it go since Eddie doesn’t turn it up any louder.

Steve carries Eddie’s unfortunately light bag of belongings into the house, “we can go shopping, maybe tomorrow or the day after. I don’t know if you know how this works or not, but you have a state budget, or rather, I do, for you. So don’t worry, if you need anything, just ask.”

He leaves Eddie’s bag at the foot of the stairs, Eddie cautiously following him as Steve points out the blindingly obvious, “lounge, kitchen, through there is the garage, that’s out to the yard.” Eddie eyes are huge in his head, darting around like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Utility through there, bring me your basket when you need, I’ll show you how to use the machines. That’s my office, I work from home two days a week, but I have to go into the office for three,” there’s a distinct spike of anxiety in the air, “but that isn’t for a couple of weeks, or until your Alpha is better, so don’t worry yet. One of the perks; you get me PTO.”

Eddie frowns at him, “Paid Time Off.”

Eddie frowns again like Steve’s presented him with an alien. Never mind.

“Okay, upstairs, this is my room,” Steve opens the door, watches as Eddie scans the room with poorly disguised interest. The bed is neatly made, the thick comforter and pillows all fluffed up. The carpet a deep gray and the rest of the room dark rich wood with some splashes of forest green, “now, I’ll show you your room, but it’s entirely up to you where you sleep. I under stand that your uncle was your familial Alpha and you lived in close quarters so...where you sleep is up to you. If you need that.”

Eddie’s gone so red Steve worries his head might explode; Steve, somehow, manages not to laugh at him. He shows Eddie to the next door down, “this is your room, I will never come in here unless you explicitly invite me or I think there’s a genuine cause for concern, okay? There’s a lock on the door, but I do have a master. So if you don’t want me barging in, you need to let me know you’re okay when I ask, okay?”

Eddie nods.

“Good, I need to be clear about that from the start,” Steve puts Eddie’s bag down in the threshold, “there’s extra nesting materials in the top of the wardrobe, the bathroom is through there, help yourself to all the toiletries, they’re for you. Feel free to chill out for a bit, get cleaned up, I’ll do food for about six ish.”

And Steve leaves him to it.

Steve’s chicken parm is, even if he says so himself, pretty damn good. His sauce is ninety percent blended vegetables; carrots, tomatoes, bell peppers; a trick he learned when trying to hide more vegetables in the kids food. He’s got a similar recipe for mac and cheese that no one has ever complained about, even though the sauce is at least fifty percent carrot.

Also, he figures the breaded chicken is just, like, a giant chicken nugget, right?

So that has to look sort of familiar. And you can get spaghetti out of a can so, surely, this isn't so different.

If Eddie doesn’t like cheese...well, that’s just unnatural. Steve’ll just have to take him back to Robin.

Steve’s got everything on plates and is about to call for Eddie, but the kid appears in the doorway, exactly six oclock. He’s got his arms wrapped around himself, uncertainty coloring the air, but he’s here, that’s the important thing.

They eat together in the breakfast nook, Eddie picks at his food rather than just eating. Steve tries to match his pace, suspicious that as soon as Steve stops eating, Eddie will stop too. He’s right.

Steve makes a mental note to do a grocery shop and go heavy on the snacks. Steve can see the evidence of Eddie growing up malnourished. He’s too pale, his eyes far too large in his face, his joints protrude and his clothes hang off his frame.

There’s no conversation, but Steve doesn’t push it. It’s not time yet.

They watch TV for a while before bed, Eddie curled up tight at the opposite end of the couch, as far from Steve as he can get. Steve adopts a relaxed posture, lets himself sink down. Pulls a blankets off the back of the couch to go across his knees and leaves another in the middle, an obvious hint to Eddie if he wants it. He doesn’t touch it.

Eddie slips away after an hour, heads upstairs. Steve watches the kid go but doesn’t say anything. It’s a pretty solid start; he’s had much, much worse. Eddie doesn’t appear to be any kind of flight risk, which is a huge plus in Steve’s book.

He messages Rob with an update before pulling out his laptop and responding to some emails. He might legitimately have a couple of weeks off work, but that doesn’t mean he wants to return to a landslide of unanswered messages when he does go back.

He heads to bed a little after. Showers and goes through his night time routine; it’s only nine but it’s been a bit of a day, and Steve intends to read for a while. It’s thirty minutes before he hears Eddie’s door open and close. The creak of the stairs. Steve sneaks to his own door, opens it a little and stands there, ears straining.

Listens as the front door rattles but doesn’t open. The key is right there, Eddie’s not trying to escape; he’s checking the house is secure. Steve hears the fridge door a few moments later, then the TV, turned down low.

Steve goes back to bed, happy that Eddie is already making himself at home. He’s asleep thirty minutes after that. And he sleeps well, until something disturbs him, the bed covers shifting. Eddie freezes when he realizes he’s woken Steve. Steve’s still half asleep, and it’s easy to just not make a big deal of it, he yawns, lifting the covers. Eddie slips in, rolling over and wriggling back, allowing himself to be the little spoon. Steve throws a leg, an arm, and the covers over Eddie’s slim frame, and easily goes back to sleep.

When Steve wakes up, Eddie’s gone again.

Steve finds Eddie on the couch. It’s a scene he’s used to, the TV displaying the little, ‘are you still watching?’ box. He’s had a lot of kids who can’t sleep without company, or background noise, or something, and finding them on the couch is pretty normal.

What’s not normal is the position Eddie is sleeping in, his head hanging off the edge, one arm flopped awkwardly above his head and the other bent underneath him, one leg hooked over the back of the couch. He’s snoring. It’s...kind of loud.

And also kind of adorable. Steve pushes those feelings down reminds himself; he cannot get attached to this one.

He knows how much it hurts.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #fliclet #robin buckley #waynes going to be fine #obviously #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie because he's so pretty #omega eddie munson

[night-gem-shit]

May I ask if you post your"Ocean Idiots" fliclets often? Im new here and would like to be enlightend on the subject.

I posted a few here before I kinda "Went Overboard" and had a writing frenzy. All of my ocean Idiots fics are posted exclusively to my Ao3 now which is linked on my pinned post!

[angrypaperearthquake-tbbb-main]

4. Yun and Yona, please? (Platonic, unless you'd rather write romance.) :)

Thank you for the submission! I have a request in my queue in front of this one, so hang tight!

I already have some great ideas rolling around in my head too... Fluff? Angst? Humor? Kija's terrible painting skills?? Yun's existential crisis of being a mom??? Yona's unique ability to be as dense as peanut butter???? Who knows 🤔😁😏

#ask #writer asks #fanfic asks #ficlet prompt #fliclet #ideas #akatsuki no yona

[greglemonlestrade]

‘The many times Sherlock talked to Greg in confidence.’ or more widely known as ‘Sherlock is hiding from John.’

2-

A string of disgruntled curses came from the two men making their way through the dim flat halls. Through the process waking multiple neighbors, getting yelled at by one and nearly kicking a hole in the wall they reach Gregs flat.

From there Greg manages to dump Sherlock on his couch, the detective having been nursing what looked to be a broken leg. He might be the only person in the world who could initially act like he wasn’t hurt at all before panicking about it and then acting as if he was going to die over it.

Sherlock groaned adjusting his position on the couch. “You could be gentle.” He grumbled lifting his leg onto the couch.

“No, no. I practically carried you from the station to here and up three flights of stairs, so no. I can’t, and if anything you should be thanking me.” Greg sighed and ran a hand over his face, actually grateful when he heard no reply from the detective.

He turned and went to the kitchen to make form tea for the both of them. He imagined he’d have Sherlock here for a day or so before he finally gives in and goes to the hospital. He really didn’t need to take care of him anymore though.

“Alright, look. I’m going to call John in the morning and he’ll come and look after you alright?” Greg asked after about fifteen minutes had passed and came out from the kitchen setting Sherlocks tea on the coffee table in what came to be known as his mug.

“I don’t need John to look after me.” He replied in a sulk and Greg sighed moving to sit in his armchair needing to relax after lugging him around all day.

“You can say that when you stop hurting yourself when he’s not around.” He grumbled collapsing into his armchair.

“It’s not intentional..”

Greg let it rest at that and a silence fell over them in the dim living room. It was nearly sunrise already, the current case having been weighing heavy on both their shoulders. Not to mention Sherlocks leg.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had occurred that he’d gotten there but he’d come across the unconscious detective at the bottom of a flight of stairs as he was getting off his late night shift. Sherlock refused to give any details just that it was related to the case, however that meant and both didn’t want the hospital nor John. Why, he couldn’t fathom.

“Don’t tell John.” He heard from the other side of the room some odd minutes later where he lay immobile. It might have just been the oxdiest tone he’d every heard Sherlock speak in.

“Why?” He asked instead of commenting further on it, still trying to figure out what it meant. More silence followed.

“He’ll be upset.” Was all he got in return and in a way he felt some sort of sympathy for the man. He was trying, despite not doing it very well greg could tell he was putting an effort in and he found it in him to respect him for it.

“You’ll tell him yourself?” He glanced over to him in the darkness and spotted a nod. “Alright. I’ll bring you back tomorrow, get some sleep.”

Greg stood and left for his bedroom, he knew he probably wouldn’t ever know what happened that night nor if Sherlock would ever tell John the truth but what he did find out that night was that Sherlock wasn’t as selfish as everyone thought. Which he always knew but sometimes it was nice to see the proof for himself.

-

#emraldurafreak #johnlock #johnlock fanart #sherlock #johnlock fic #fic #fanfic #sherlock fic #sherlock fanfic #Greg lestrade #fliclet #short fic #sherlock whump #sad sherlock #john watson #Rupert graves #papa lestrade #martin freeman #benedict cumberbatch #short story #case fic #broken bone #sick fic #johnlock fanfom #john x sherlock #sherlock ship #sherlock bbc #gavin lestrade #di lestrade #sherlock talked to greg

[waterdeephero]

☺ {{-silently squealing at thought-}}

☺my muse helping your muse fall asleep

It had been a long time since he had slept outside the shelter of solid walls, Elithrar thought. Below them, the sky was clear, the sparkling stars promised a cooler night. Of course, they could have gone back to the academy. But the journey was long, and the snow made it difficult to progress. And then they no longer had crystals of focus. Elithrar should have shown more foresight. But reprimands now were useless.

Under the shelter of the tent, he felt on one side Deekin, on the other Dhana groping against him. Sighing, he adjusted the blankets, pulling on them the two bearskins that he had managed to transport. The smell of the beast that emanated from it was not so unpleasant, in the end. Even if it was not frankly what he loved.

He felt that none of them were sleeping. But the cold was not the only one responsible, he suspected. He also wondered what the others were doing. Dorna and Xanos had gone to explore the Nether Mountains on their side. Perhaps they had returned. As for Mischa, she had to watch over the academy. The elf doubted however that she had a better night than them. The fact that Ayala was also there relieved him a little. These and many other questions were circling in his mind, preventing him from reaching a state of calm sufficient to rest.

But the question remained: was Master Drogan going to recover? He turned again, also unable to find sleep. He found himself nose to nose with Dhana, her eyes glistening in the darkness.

‘You can’t sleep?’ he whispered. ‘The young woman shook her head, her eyes bright and her throat knotted. Her expression saddened him. Elithrar took his hands out of the blankets and whispered some words he thought he had forgotten. It’s been so long…. He didn’t expect it to work. And yet, three small luminous globes appeared. One was purple, the second yellow and the last pale blue.

Deekin uttered a small squeak of surprise and stood up to watch the globes spin around Elithrar’s hands. “That’s a nice thing!” The elf smiles a little at Deekin’s reaction.

“When I couldn’t sleep, my mother….” Elithrar paused and contemplated Dhana, his pale face illuminated by the dim light emanating from the spheres.

“You have hidden your talents as a magician from us! Xanos would be surprised,” she says, shared between fun and the desire to ask him more about his “skinny” arcane talents.

“It must be pretty much the only spell I can throw. Not enough to shadow the great Xanos”.

Dhana chuckled, while Deekin tried to catch one of the sphere. His clawed hand closed only on emptiness, the globe escaping him. The sun elf smile at that sight and said:

“I can’t promise you that everything will be alright…Even if I would love to.”

He made a small pause, as the lightning pulsed between his hands, dancing around it wrists.

“But we’re doing the best we can. Master Drogan prepared us for anything and I’m pretty sure he was also aware of the potential perils. I’m sure he will be ok”.

The silent took place again, as Dhana smiled. It was a small one, far from her usual large grin, but Elithrar still count it as a small victory.

“I may take your word on it.” She frowned then her face relaxed again, but her expression remained serious.

“I hope we’re enough to what’s lie ahead”.

“We have to”.

“Deekin thinks great adventurers need their beauty sleep” said the little kobold, while he yawned. The two students laughted a little at his wise words. They remained for a moment like this, contemplating the peaceful light that removed their respective worries as well as some of the shadows of the night.Then, the lights faded as they finally fall in Morphe’s embrace.

#xdepthsofwinterx #((sorry for the late #at first I though it was 'silently squealing" and I didn't understand lol #(went with the begining of Shadows of Undrentide with this one #I hope it's ok #((oooops I derailled a little #((hopes Dhana is ok !!) #more like drabble #fliclet #drabble

[lesbianrabbithole]

Ficlet: First Day At Work

Adena really enjoyed having an old regular job. As regular as working for Scarlet Magazine can be. There was always something new and exciting happening, she couldn’t deny that. But compared to her old life it was a big change. Before, she would barely stay in the same city for more than a couple of months. Now, she felt safe in the knowledge she could establish herself in a single place. Having a regular paycheck, a set number of hours she was expected to work, made everything different, but even though she had lost some freedom, she felt happier than ever. Maybe it wouldn’t be with Kat, like she had once expected, but she was ready to build a home. The kind of photography she was doing was also different. She still had room to explore her own projects, and she made sure to every chance she got. She never wanted to feel like she did in the months she couldn't produce anything. But the type of photography Scarlet required from her could be really specific at times. It was a different kind of challenge. She was always encouraged to put her own vision on the pictures they did. Oliver and Jacqueline couldn’t be more encouraging. And she did, she always tried to put her best work out. With the new focus of the magazine, she felt a bigger responsibility with each one of her pictures. It wasn’t only about making things look good, but to impact and create change with her pictures.

Adena always thought that art primary intent is to create change, impact whoever sees it and make them question themselves. In that sense, what she did with Scarlet was a way to do art too, even if it was different to how she used to make art before.

One of her favorite things of the new job was interacting with people. Being an artist could be lonely, but at Scarlet there wasn’t a minute where she didn’t have someone around. Either Sutton giving her ideas during a photoshoot, or Sage oversharing about her sexual life. And the subjects of the photographs themselves, always interesting women with their own stories. 

Even if having to see Kat everyday when the hurt of her rejection was still so fresh in her memory, was hell. She wouldn’t change working at Scarlet for anything. She used to think of it as Kat’s world. Now, she was happy to call it her world too, with or without Kat. You can have early access to posts like these by joining my Patreon

#Kadena #fliclet #myfic #fan fiction

[t4tdrarry]

@drarrymicrofic March 11 2022 | Prompt: Persephone | a continuation of my hades/persephone au | title derived from Orphic Hymn 28 to Proserpine

The nature of gods is to be untouched by time.

“What are six months to a god?” Draco had asked, before he’d gone.

“Nothing,” Harry had replied.

Cold, he did not say. Empty, without you.

On the first day of spring, Harry feels frozen over as he watches Draco go. He could not fault Orpheus as the folly of men when Harry turns each time, every corner, for a glimpse of love long gone. The god of the dead chases ghosts in his kingdom of souls, but Draco is out of his reach.

The halls turn dark and frigid when Draco leaves. There is no winter here. No branches of ice or blankets of snow will ever grace the underworld. But there is no spring either. Spring is for mortals and men, not long buried gods, forgotten to the world.

No, spring has never belonged to him. But Draco—Draco is his for half the year, a six-seed promise sealed with a bite. Vowed to leave, vowed to return.

“Harry.”

He turns.

Up above, the grass frosts over with the first fall of snow.

For the first time in months, Harry is warm.

#hello i could not resist continuing my other hades/persephone drarry piece #they can be read in a loop! since it’s cyclical #this time its harrys pov while dracos gone :( #my writing #drarry #drarry squad #drarry microfic #drarry discord #drarry fic #drarrymicrofic #drarry fanfic #drarry fliclet #microfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry