Miscella + short   435

rohkeutta: can you knot
“Read this,” Bucky commands, sounding a little winded. There’s a delicious flush on his cheekbones, spreading down. “Tell me what you think.”

“Okay,” Steve says, and spends the next couple of minutes trying to remember how the alphabet works while Bucky’s ass is gyrating slowly in his lap.

“What,” he says when he finishes. “Bucky. What.”
author:rohkeutta  AO3  rating:NC-17  trope:alpha/omega  genre:humor  short  !slash  fandom:captain_america  pairing:bucky/steve  trope:meta 
january 2019 by Miscella
galwednesday: Boeuf Mystère
“Quick question,” Bucky said.

Steve looked up, but didn’t stop moving passports and stacks of cash into a nondescript blue duffel, his mind busily ticking through logistics. He’d grab the glock taped behind the hidden drawer in the desk on their way out, and they could buy new clothes once they got across the border into neutral territory, so they didn’t need much else, apart from whatever Bucky wanted to bring. One duffle should be enough. “Yeah, honey?”

“What the fuck.”
short  AO3  fandom:Avengers  genre:humor  !slash  AU  au!captainamerica  au!marvel  author:galwednesday  rating:PG13 
january 2019 by Miscella
galwednesday: This Little Light of Mine
“What,” Tony said. “The fuck. Is your face doing?”

Bucky gave Tony’s chest a glance that was somehow both dismissive and pointed. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Hey, these are not equivalent situations, here, everyone knows the deal with the arc reactor. What I want to know is why you,” Tony said, stabbing a finger at Bucky’s uncovered face, “are fucking glowing.”
author:galwednesday  short  genre:humor  fandom:Avengers  character:tonystark  crack!fic  pairing:bucky/steve  AO3 
january 2019 by Miscella
menocchio: Brunch on Laguna
Dan had thought the Brock Report was great and that Eddie Brock was the coolest man in San Francisco.

He still, painfully, kind of thinks this.
AO3  fandom:venom  rating:PG  genre:gen  author:menocchio  short 
january 2019 by Miscella
Helenish: Untitled, redux
Arthur, extraordinarily capable by any standard, is not exactly built for certain types of subterfuge.
author:Helenish  AO3  fandom:inception  pairing:arthur/eames  rating:NC-17  short  genre:PWP 
january 2019 by Miscella
Helenish: Untitled
Arthur’s e-mail said to courier the files, but the address is right around the corner from Poland, where Eames is just wrapping up a job, so he books a flight to Brussels to drop them by himself. They’re working together in Vancouver in a week anyhow. It’s on his way.
author:Helenish  AO3  fandom:inception  !slash  pairing:arthur/eames  genre:PWP  short 
january 2019 by Miscella
toomuchplor: I Want Your Psycho
Eames would gladly welcome comparisons to other dashing bearded men, but Eames rarely gets what he wants when it comes to Arthur.
AO3  author:toomuchplor  genre:PWP  rating:NC-17  short  fandom:inception  pairing:arthur/eames  !slash 
january 2019 by Miscella
canistakahari: cursed fork
There is a cursed fork in Steve’s cutlery drawer.

It is too small, and slightly bent, like Steve accidentally warped it and then inexpertly bent it back into shape with his enormous shovel hands. It does not match any of the other cutlery. It only has three tines.

Bucky hates it.
rating:PG13  fandom:captain_america  fandom:Marvel  pairing:bucky/steve  genre:humor  short  author:canistakahari  character:sam_wilson 
january 2019 by Miscella
canistakahari: I got that good thing for you
When it comes down to it, Steve will do anything for Bucky. Even if that involves fulfilling a very specific seasonally-adjacent fantasy.
AO3  fandom:captain_america  pairing:bucky/steve  !slash  rating:R  short  genre:humor  genre:fluff  author:canistakahari 
january 2019 by Miscella
Drizzerey: Goodbye For Now
Neither of them want to say goodbye, but they both have things they need to do. So it is with a bittersweet bid of farewell they go their separate ways.
genre:gen  rating:PG  AO3  short  fandom:overwatch  pre-cannon  pairing:hanzo/jesse  !slash  author:Drizzerey 
january 2019 by Miscella
LadyKG: Save me the small things
If someone had told her she would be considered an international threat while on the run with an ex-terrorist in order to save the world when she was a genin, she would have laughed and called them crazy.
author:LadyKG  AU  AO3  fandom:naruto  character:sakura  character:obito  short  genre:angst  !no_pairing  trope:time_travel 
january 2019 by Miscella
T. KINGFISHER: The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society
There was a land of elven halls and hollows, of fairy mounds and great cathedrals underground. Hapless mortals went in and danced until their feet gave out, and sometimes they came out again.

But far beyond the merriment and the music and the trapped mortals, there was a campfire, and around it sat a half-dozen men, and a great bull selkie, and a horse the color of night.

The men were faerie boys, first to last, tall and sharp-boned, with cheekbones like swords. The selkie was a great hulking brute with his sealskin draped around him, muscle smoothed with a layer of fat, and a gleam in his eye like the last light on the sea.

The horse was a horse, except when he wanted more beer, and then he was a man with a mane of black hair and eyes that glowed like rubies in his face.

They sat around the fire, far from the fae court, and stared into the flames. Fire is older than faerie-kind and even they can be hypnotized by its dance.

“What gets me,” said one of the men finally, “what really gets me is that she went and married the blacksmith.”
author:t_kingfisher  genre:fantasy  trope:fairytales  short  fiction  genre:humor  rating:PG 
january 2019 by Miscella
Nnedi Okorafor: The Key
It was due to a stupid thing done in a fit of panic that Fwadausi Bello altered her life forever. It’s amazing how sometimes the things we worry about most don’t happen and what we should worry about are often those very things we never imagine. So was the case with Fwadausi.
For the last few months, she’d been losing little things, including her favorite pencil from school, the plastic bracelet one of her friends had given her, and her lip gloss. It was infuriating, because her auntie and uncle rarely gave her money, so she couldn’t replace anything. This fateful day, she lost something not so little– she’d lost the key to the house and she was terrified of her uncle’s wrath. She had good reason to be.
short  fiction  genre:gen  genre:fantasy  rating:PG13  warning:child_abuse  trope:family  author:Nnedi_Okorafor 
january 2019 by Miscella
newsbypostcard: Modern Warfare
All things considered, Bucky does technically react better to the neighbours banging on the wall because their sex is too loud than Steve might've expected.
AO3  author:newsbypostcard  pairing:bucky/steve  !slash  genre:humor  short  rating:R 
december 2018 by Miscella
The_Degu: Eye on You
Jesse has had deadeye for a few years now and is now finding out that it is stolen overwatch tech. He meets the person it was originally made for and talks about what this might mean.
AO3  author:The_Degu  fandom:overwatch  !no_pairing  character:jesse_mccree  pre-canon  character:gabriel_reyes  character:ana_amari  genre:gen  short  rating:PG13 
october 2018 by Miscella
zetsubonna: Huckleberry, Cherry, or Lime
I keep talking about Steve's enthusiasm for giving blowjobs, and Sam's reciprocal enthusiasm for receiving those blow jobs, and then I realize I've only ever written one happening in the context of a threesome.

So I am rectifying that.
pairing:sam/steve  !slash  rating:R  AO3  short  genre:PWP  fandom:Marvel  author:zetsubonna  fandom:captain_america 
october 2018 by Miscella
Swagreus (shiplizard): Life in Plastic
In Oasis, Talon is scrambling to find their half-brainwashed captive.

In a resort town south of Dorado, the local queer community adopts an old homeless man who reaches out to help one of their own.

In the privacy of his own head, Jack Morrison questions all of his life choices.
fandom:overwatch  AO3  short  character:jack_morrison/soldier96  trope:family  author:Swagreus  author:shiplizard  trope:characterstudy  charaxter:moria  !no_pairing  rating:PG13  warning:torture  genre:gen 
august 2018 by Miscella
tomorrowsrain: all the rest
Cassian and Jyn survive Scarif. Most days, she wishes they hadn't.

It's never easy to keep on living after you expected to die.
warning:death  warning:torture  short  genre:angst  rating:PG13  AO3  AU  au!starwars  fandom:starwars  fandom:starwars_rogueone  trope:futurefic  pairing:cassian/jynn  !het  genre:h/c  author:tomorrowsrain 
july 2018 by Miscella
noelia_g: Steady as she goes
In which they all live and Jyn Erso is on a quest to fix a droid.

Rogue One in the aftermath.
author:noelia_g  AO3  !het  AU  au!starwars  fandom:starwars  fandom:starwars_rogueone  trope:futurefic  gemre:gen  rating:PG  short 
july 2018 by Miscella
evillordzog: Seeing Tens
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.

A little while ago, a co-worker’s reaction to something introduced you to a social media platform called tumblr. It was innocuous, a video of two kittens dressed as vikings to the tune of Immigrant Song. You pointed out that it can’t have been that funny because unlike the surrounding posts it had no indication that it had been shared by others. They answered that just occasionally a post could be shared so many times that the counter would break and the number just disappear.

You just snorted something about poor software engineering. After all your counters are omnipresent. Even Diana didn’t break it, it was more like she was… well, she’s Diana. The few times she’s been back, it’s become clear that going all the way to 11 when you least expect it is sort of her thing.

You remember the kittens. You remember that first moment with Diana, that sudden thrill of fear when she showed you a world you had conditioned yourself to believe wasn’t possible. Because this totally unassuming blonde woman standing in front of you with the broad smile and the hand extended in greeting…

There’s no number above her head.

“Hello, I’m the Doctor.”
tumblr  author:evillordzog  genre:fantasy  fandom:dcu  Fandom:DC  fandom:doctor_who  character:OC  !no_pairing  genre:humor  short 
december 2017 by Miscella
BrilliantLady: A mask for master
Young Anakin reflects on the nature of slavery and freedom, and the slim difference between the two.
fandom:starwars  via:Laria_Gwyn  genre:gen  trope:characterstudy  AO3  !no_pairing  author:BrilliantLady  character:anakin  short 
december 2017 by Miscella
janothar: misscrazyfangirl321: Seeing Tens
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.

You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?

You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”

He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”

This one wins.

It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up. She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out. First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.

Clark’s introducing her around. “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”

You blink, and take a step back in fear. You’ve never seen an 11 before.

Except she’s not, somehow. Clark-the-Ten introduces Diana-the-Eleven and you wonder for a second if they’re together, but you know Clark has a girlfriend (and the heart of, like… a labradoodle) so that’s not an option.

Diana-the-Eleven is an eleven, too. Like, wow, is she ever. She looks at you, directly, one time while you’re getting coffee, and you drop your cup when she smiles. It’s strangely intimate and a little mischievous and pure sunshine, and you’re there like an idiot with coffee all down your slacks.

It’s the heady combination of a freaking eleven and also being an eleven. Apparently that’s your thing, because you’re a sinner and nothing in life is simple.

The two get together off and on, over the next couple of months, to do… stuff, you’re not sure what, it’s not like you know Clark for all you’re coworkers. You even try a little, after Diana, because- well. Eleven.

(This isn’t easy. You’re you, you’re not exactly a social maestro, there’s a reason you work in Design instead of being a “real” reporter. The most conversation you get normally is with your army of succulents in adorable pots on every windowsill of your tiny apartment, and when your mother disapproves of your life choices and feels the need to call and tell you this once every few weeks.)

And Clark smiles and does his labradoodle thing and somehow you never really bridge the carefully kept gap between “coworkers” and “friends”. It’s like he’s hiding something.

But then, they are the only ten and eleven you’ve ever seen, so of course they’re hiding something. What would a ten be doing as a reporter? Seriously. And Diana is apparently a history professor or something, (from Paris, if you weren’t already screwed) which makes about as much sense.

You’re like, a three, max, though you can’t see your own number. But you’re not stupid. You’re actually not half bad, most of time, except for a certain recklessness regarding stray animals. But you definitely aren’t stupid, and you know there has to be more to it than this.

You do not investigate.

It’s not the easiest choice. You hope it’s motivated by trust in your fellow man, and that Clark one time literally stopped traffic to rescue a stray kitten that bit him for it so he can’t be all bad, and if he was hanging around with Diana then Diana was surely a decent person, right? You hope its not motivated by the fact that you’re a normal human being who would like to keep breathing, thanks, and an eleven is fucking terrifying. You are not the main character of whatever crazy story is involved here and you’re pretty sure if a ten or an eleven ever decided to shut you up, well…

So you go with the faith in humanity one.

But you’re only human, and sometimes you feel vaguely guilty for that.

It doesn’t stop you from wondering, of course.

Seriously, what the hell is even with Clark-the-Ten and Diana-the-Eleven?

They’re built like statues. Diana looks like a literal goddess. You keep your mind firmly on the fact that Clark has a girlfriend with whom he is apparently besotted (because of course he is, the labradoodle, Jesus) and that’s easy because, wow, Diana. Not like you don’t like men? But you don’t do that game when they’re taken, that’s just wrong, and Clark is just kinda… off limits in your head.

But Diana.

You knock another coffee cup off the counter by accident when you see her pass by in the hall, her dark hair in perfect curls cascading down her back, wearing leather pants and a fuzzy sweater and this kinda shabby-chic scarf and hat.

Diana is laughing at something Clark said, and the breath catches in your chest.

There’s a strangled noise. It seems to come from your throat, long after she’s passed, and your coffee cut is a small price to pay for the view.

And yet, she doesn’t have a ring, and she never mentions plans (at least not where you can hear them, with your semi-shameless eavesdropping) with people or dates. You’re pretty sure she’s single, but how? Which means it’s likely choice. That makes your heart hurt.

It doesn’t stop you, though. You’re stubborn in that quiet kinda way.

This one time she wore this tank top and button up ensemble thing, and you almost literally swooned at her biceps. That makes you feel pathetic for a full day before someone in Photography sneaks you a candid they took of her, biceps in full view, smiling in the light from the window and talking to Clark.

You buy the entire department lunch and damn the cost. Some things are priceless.

Time passes. You find out she loves ice cream, and that she’s not a history professor, she’s a freaking curator at the freaking Louvre.

Time passes. Your succulents in their adorable pots take all the available space on your windowsills. It forces you to bring Stevie the Echeveria with you to live on your desk. Stevie is small, just a cutting right now, but growing well, bright green shading to brilliant crimson on the border, in a chipped teacup for a pot.

You’re resizing a photograph when you hear “Excuse me,” and nearly almost die.

It’s Diana. Smiling that smile. At you. You’re the only desk in this corner so it can’t be a mistake. Your hearty kicks into overdrive, and you can feel the blush starting.

Up close, she’s even more beautiful. Less inhumanly so, less a goddess on a pedestal, but more…. earthy, earthly, real. She does have one wrinkle or two, like a normal person, and a stray freckle here and there and eyebrows that aren’t perfectly sculpted and have never seen a plucking, they’re just… eyebrows, eyebrows that fit her face really well naturally, and there’s not a damn spot of makeup on her. Her eyes, though… her eyes seem older and wiser than the rest of her, almost out of place, almost a little sad. The 11 above her head, bobbing insistent, is nearly a mockery.

She is such an eleven, though. Wow.

Diana is still smiling as you try not to gape and kick your brain into gear. “Uh- Uh, hi, sorry- got, um, I was phresizing sotos- resizing photos- um, how can I help you, Ms. Prince?” you ask, clinging to the remnants of professionalism like a life raft.

Clark, across the way by the vending machine, is grinning. You’d glare at him, but he’s a ten, and you’re already occupied trying to survive the current conversation, let alone entertain the idea of telling Clark fucking Kent where to put is perfect stupid smug labradoodle smile.

“What is that plant? I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s so bright and cheerful. I love the colors, and it looks so pretty on your desk! Where did you get it?” she asked, with all seriousness, sitting on a chair taken from somewhere in front of you.

This is The End. Diana Prince likes your succulent. You can die happy.

“It- It’s a succulent? Sort of like- well, kinda like a little cactus, but no sticky bits. Um, most are from arid regions and stuff- Mexico, Central America, for the Echeveria. That’s what this one is, an Echeveria.” Dear god, Diana has dimples, you can see them as you relax a little and she’s nodding for you to continue. “They’re known for their color variations.” You pause, then, because you have no filter when she is this close, add, “I had to bring him to work cause I ran out of room for them at, uh, at my apartment.”

Diana laughs, and you instantly vow to make her do that as much as is humanly possible.

“You have more?”

And so you spend the best thirty minutes of your life talking to Diana Prince about succulents. God is real. All is well with the world.

“-echeveria, very easy to propogate like most succulents, you know? If I wanted to, I could just take a cutting, like a leaf or two, off Stevie here-”

The name hits her. You can see it. For all her… everything, her elevenness, it hits like a slap out of nowhere. You falter.


“No, please, go on. I’m sorry. I didn’t… It still catches me, sometimes.” Diana smiles at you again, and now you know why she is soft and sad in her eyes. “That he’s gone. You’d think, all these years, but…”

You say nothing, even as you scramble to recover, even as your heart breaks. What can be said?

It gets awkward real fast.

Diana stands to go. Is… is she blushing? “I’m sorry I distracted you-”

“No, no, I mean, this was the nicest conversation I’ve had all month,” you assure her, and there must be something to it because her smile gets less sad and a little wider, a bit of her sunshiney strength coming back. “My mom doesn’t like the mess and they’re kinda weird but-”

“I think they are gorgeous,” Diana says, firmly, with the effect of Law Coming Into Being. She’s meeting your eyes as she says it, and you, dammit, you blush deeper.

There’s only one thing you can do.

Which is stand up and pick… [more]
via:Carnadosa  author:janothar  author:misscrazyfangirl321  tumblr  short  genre:fluff  rating:G  pairing:diana/oc  fandom:dcu  Fandom:DC 
december 2017 by Miscella
polytropic-liar: OT3 culture clashes between Rey, Finn, and Poe.
When Rey gets back (with LUKE FRIKKIN SKYWALKER HOLY SHIT), they put her in Finn and Poe’s room. Technically it’s supposed to be four to a room (the Resistance doesn’t have a lot of space, especially with the new recruits coming in, all of the Republic’s bereaved out for revenge), but they’re all heros and also, though no one says it, kind of weird. Lieutenant T’Sol, in charge of bunk assignments, throws them all together and calls it a day.

Finn has been out of intensive physical therapy for about a month at that point. He can stand, sit, walk, and even bend.

He can also, Rey discovers two days into living with him, be a massive pain in the ass.

She comes back from training with Luke–yep, Luke Skywalker, training as a Jedi under Luke Skywalker, no big deal–to find that her stuff has been moved. The jacket she left on the floor next to her bed, the repairs for the communications unit she was working on, they’re in different places. She drops her staff n the doorway, horrified, and proceeds to tear up her bunk. The extra food, emergency kit, and extra tools she stashed under the mattress are undisturbed, as is the secret compartment she built into her trunk. Dumping everything she owns on the floor and spreading it out to take inventory reveals that nothing has been taken..but has it been poked through? She doesn’t know. How and why did someone get in here?

When Poe comes back from training runs he finds her in the doorway, furiously upgrading the security locks.

“Uh,” he says. “Hey.”

“Hey.” It comes out a little muffled through the spot-welder in her mouth, but she’s sure he gets the sentiment. “Check your stuff. Security breach.”

“Shit.” He doesn’t do nearly a good enough job of checking, in Rey’s opinion, though maybe he can’t get at his hiding spots with her there. He comes back over to her just as she’s fitting the panel back over their improved lock system. “What of yours is missing? Should I call someone? I’ll call the Lieutenant.”


“No?” She wants to be annoyed with how Poe reacts to things that surprise him. He never gets mad, just gives you this look like ‘everything’s okay, just explain to me.’ It’s…annoyingly perfect.

“No. Nothing’s missing.” And it’s not like whoever it is will be getting in again. The door now requires voice, retinal and thumbprint activation. She’ll ask Luke tomorrow how to make sure no one can use the Force to get it open, too.

“Okay.” Poe goes back to his bunk and takes out a holo disk; he does flight simulations a lot during his breaks, and often will invite Rey to join him. Usually she does, but today she has to take care of her stuff. She spreads it out even further, all across the floor, and behinds going over each and every thing she owns, making sure it’s clean and not broken. They’re not much, little pieces of equipment she’s scavenged and the clothes given to her and a couple things she’s bartered for, but it’s the most she’s ever owned in her life.

Finn comes back in about an hour later, and freezes, his face distressed.

“Uh, what’s going on???”

“What?” She doesn’t understand what his problem is.

“This? The floor, covered in stuff?”

“Oh. Inventory.” Duh.

“Oh…kay. Well can it just…stay on your side of the…” He reaches down to pick up her jacket, which is spread out by his bunk.

Rey tackles him. His yell of surprise is answered by Poe’s cry of “Careful!“ Rey remembers just in time about his injury, and adjusts their trajectory so that she knocks him back onto his bunk for a soft landing.

“What the hell!“ he yells as she pins him down with a knee on his stomach and an arm across his shoulders.

“Why did you touch my jacket? What makes you think you can touch my jacket? Did you touch my things before too? Was that you???” She’s possibly never been this outraged in her life. Who does something like that?

“What? I…what??? Yes, I did! Your things were on the floor, I cleaned them up! Like a normal unit member! Instead of spreading them all over, who does that?“

What. Rey lets go of his shoulders, stymied. How is she supposed to talk to someone who doesn’t understand the inherent wrongness of touching another person’s possessions?

“Wow, okay. Hey, guys? Guys.” Poe sticks his head in between Rey and Finn’s locked glares. Now instead of conflict Rey has a faceful of upsettingly shiny hair. His shampoo smells like night flowers. “Let’s try something, okay? Rey. What does Finn need to understand?”

“You can’t touch my things. They’re my things.” She can’t believe she has to explain this.

“And Finn. What does Rey need to understand?”

Rey can’t actually see Finn through Poe’s head, but his voice when it comes is less angry than hers, more worried.

“You can’t leave a mess. You’ll get us in trouble.”

Abruptly, Rey realizes that Finn’s bunk is always perfectly, almost eerily neat. She has never seen any of his possessions left out on the table, never seen the blankets have a single wrinkle in their folds. If she didn’t see him take things with him when he left the room, she wouldn’t even know Finn had possessions.

“Right. Okay. So, Rey, do you promise not to leave any mess on Finn’s part of the room?”

“…yeah.” She knows Finn knows that they’re not in the First Order and Rey isn’t going to get them in trouble for having a messy room. She gets that him knowing that doesn’t really matter. “No mess on Finn’s part of the room.”

“And Finn, do you promise not to touch anything of Rey’s?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t know it would bother you. I clean up after Poe all the time.”

“…you do? Huh. That explains why I never remember making my bed.”

Poe’s head recedes and Rey can see Finn again. He looks grumpy and ashamed of himself, and that makes her forgive him, all in a rush.

“Good. Well done navigating conflict, everyone.” Poe claps a hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Now kiss and make up.”

Huh. Okay? Rey thinks that’s weird, but Poe handled the situation pretty well so far. She’s still sitting on Finn, so she bends down and kisses him.

“Whoops,” Poe says above her.

“Mmhm,” Finn says, which is definitely an encouraging noise, and his mouth is nice and he’s very warm. Rey takes back her thinking this was weird, this was a great idea.

She stops kissing Finn once he starts making little ‘I can’t breathe’ noises, and flicks her hair out of her face so she can look up at Poe.

“You too?” she offers, not sure how this custom works but definitely sure she’d like to kiss him.

“It wasn’t meant to be literal…oh, screw it.” He bends down so Rey can slide a hand behind his jaw. She and Finn just kind of smooshed their faces together, but Poe does it differently, he tilts his head a little and brushes his mouth over hers a couple of times. It’s good in a tingly, shivery way.

“Hey, my turn,” Finn whines, and Rey breaks off to laugh while Poe obliges. He kisses Finn differently too, he tilts his head back on the pillow and uses his tongue. Rey is so interested by, and so happy about, all of this. Different kinds of ways to kiss and live and be together.

Basically, she thinks they’re doing great at this. As long as no one touches her things ever again.
fandom:starwars  trope:culture_gap  genre:gen  character:poe  character:rey  character:finn  pairing:finn/poe/rey  !poly  rating:PG13  short  tumblr 
december 2017 by Miscella
inkskinned: Superhero prompt
At 18, everyone receive a superpower. Your childhood friend got a power-absorption, your best friends got time control, and they quickly rise into top 100 most powerful superheroes. You got a mediocre superpower, but somehow got into the top 10. Today they visit you asking how you did it.

“Power absorption?” you ask him over your pasta, which you are currently absorbing powerfully. in the background, a tv is reading out what the Phoenix extremeist group has done recently. bodies, stacking.

tim nods, pushing his salad around. “it’s kind of annoying.” he’s gone vegan ever since he could talk to animals. his cheeks are sallow. “yesterday i absorbed static and i can’t stop shocking myself.”

“you don’t know what from,” shay is detangling her hair at the table, even though it’s not polite. about a second ago, her hair was perfect, which implies she’s been somewhere in the inbetween. “try millions of multiverses that your powers conflict with.”

“did we die in the last one?” you grin and she grins and tim grins but nobody answers the question.

now she has a cut over her left eye and her hair is shorter. she looks tired and tim looks tired and you look down at your 18-year-old hands, which are nothing.

they ship out tomorrow. they go out to the frontlines or wherever it is that superheroes go to fight supervillains; the cream of the crop. the starlight banner kids.

“you both are trying too hard,” you tell them, “couldn’t you have been, like, really good at surfing?”

“god,” shay groans, “what i’d give to only be in the olympics.”


in the night, tim is asleep. on the way home, he absorbed telekinesis, and hates it too.

shay looks at you. “i’m scared,” she says.

you must not have died recently, because she looks the same she did at dinner, cut healing slowly over her eye the way it’s supposed to, not the hyper-quickness of a timejump. just shay, living in the moment when the moment is something everyone lives in. her eyes are wide and dark the way brown eyes can be, that swelling fullness that feels so familiar and warm, that piercing darkness that feels like a stone at the back of your tongue.

“you should be,” you say.

her nose wrinkles, she opens her mouth, but you plow on.

“they’re going to take one look at you and be like, ‘gross, shay? no thanks. you’re too pretty. it’s bringing down like, morale, and things’. then they’ll kick you out and i’ll live with you in a box and we’ll sell stolen cans of ravioli.”

she’s grinning. “like chef boyardee or like store brand?”

“store brand but we print out chef boyardee labels and tape them over the can so we can mark up the price.”

“where do we get the tape?”

“we, uh,” you look into those endless dark eyes, so much like the night, so much like a good hot chocolate, so much like every sleepover you’ve had with the two of your best friends, and you say, “it’s actually just your hair. i tie your hair around the cans to keep the label on.”

she throws a pillow at you.

you both spend a night planning what you’ll do in the morning when shay is kicked out of Squadron 8, Division 1; top rankers that are all young. you’ll both run away to the beach and tim will be your intel and you’ll burn down the whole thing. you’re both going to open a bakery where you will do the baking and she’ll use her time abilities to just, like, speed things up so you don’t have to wake up at dawn. you’re both going to become wedding planners that only do really extreme weddings.

she falls asleep on your shoulder. you do not sleep at all.

in the morning, they are gone.


squadron 434678, Division 23467 is basically “civilian status.” you still have to know what to expect and all that stuff. you’re glad that you’re taking extra classes at college; you’re kind of bored re-learning the stuff you were already taught in high school. there are a lot of people who need help, and you’re good at that, so you help them.

tim and shay check in from time to time, but they’re busy saving the world, so you don’t fault them for it. in the meantime, you put your head down and work, and when your work is done, you help the people who can’t finish their work. and it kind of feels good. kind of.


at twenty, squadron 340067, division 2346 feels like a good fit. tim and you go out for ice cream in a new place that rebuilt after the Phoenix group burned it down. you’ve chosen nurse-practitioner as your civilian job, because it seems to fit, but you’re not released for full status as civilian until you’re thirty, so it’s been a lot of office work.

tim’s been on the fritz a lot lately, overloading. you’re worried they’ll try to force him out on the field. he’s so young to be like this.

“i feel,” he says, “like it all comes down to this puzzle. like i’m never my own. i steal from other people’s boxes.”

you wrap your hand around his. “sometimes,” you say, “we love a river because it is a reflection.”

he’s quiet a long time after that. a spurt of flame licks from under his eyes.

“i wish,” he says, “i could believe that.”


twenty three has you in squad 4637, division 18. really you’ve just gotten here because you’re good at making connections. you know someone who knows someone who knows you as a good kid. you helped a woman onto a bus and she told her neighbor who told his friend. you’re mostly in the filing department, but you like watching the real superheroes come in, get to know some of them. at this level, people have good powers but not dangerous ones. you learn how to help an 18 year old who is a loaded weapon by shifting him into a non-violent front. you get those with pstd home where they belong. you put your head down and work, which is what you’re good at.

long nights and long days and no vacations is fine until everyone is out of the office for candlenights eve. you’re the only one who didn’t mind staying, just in case someone showed up needing something.

the door blows open. when you look up, he’s bleeding. you jump to your feet.

“oh,” you say, because you recognize the burning bird insignia on his chest, “I think you have the wrong office.”

“i just need,” he spits onto the ground, sways, collapses.

well, okay. so, that’s, not, like. great. “uh,” you say, and you miss shay desperately, “okay.”

you find the source of the bleeding, stabilize him for when the shock sets in, get him set up on a desk, sew him shut. two hours later, you’ve gotten him a candlenights present and stabilized his vitals. you’ve also filed him into a separate folder (it’s good to be organized) and found him a home, far from the warfront.

when he wakes up, you give him hot chocolate (god, how you miss shay), and he doesn’t smile. he doesn’t smile at the gift you’ve gotten him (a better bulletproof vest, one without the Phoenix on it), or the stitches. that’s okay. you tell him to take the right medications, hand them over to him, suggest a doctor’s input. and then you hand over his folder with a new identity in it and a new house and civilian status. you take a deep breath.

he opens it and bursts into tears. he doesn’t say anything. he just leaves and you have to clean up the blood, which isn’t very nice of him. but it’s candlenights. so whatever. hopefully he’ll learn to like his gift.


squadron 3046, division 2356 is incredibly high for a person like you to fit. but still, you fit, because you’re good at organization and at hard work, and at knowing how to hold on when other people don’t see a handhold.

shay is home. you’re still close, the two of you, even though she feels like she exists on another planet. the more security you’re privy to, the more she can tell you.

you brush her hair as she speaks about the endless man who never dies, and how they had to split him up and hide him throughout the planet. she cries when she talks about how much pain he must be in.

“can you imagine?” she whispers, “i mean, i know he’s phoenix, but can you imagine?”

“one time i had to work retail on black friday,” you say.

she sniffles.

“one time my boss put his butt directly on my hand by accident and i couldn’t say anything so i spent a whole meeting with my hand directly up his ass,” you say.

her eyes are so brown, and filling, and there are scars on her you’ve never noticed that might be new or very, very, very old; and neither of you know exactly how much time she’s actually been alive for.

“i mean,” you say, “yeah that might hurt but one time i said goodbye to someone but they were walking in the same direction. i mean can you imagine.”

she laughs, finally, even though it’s weakly, and says, “one time even though i can manipulate time i slept in and forgot to go to work even though i was leading a presentation and i had to look them in the face later to tell them that.”

“you’re a compete animal,” you tell her, and look into those eyes, so sad and full of timelines you’ll never witness, “you should be kicked out completely.”

she wipes her face. “find me in a box,” she croaks, “selling discount ravioli.”


you don’t know how it happens. but you guess the word gets around. you don’t think you like being known to them as someone they can go to, but it’s not like they’ve got a lot of options. many of them just want to be out of it, so you get them out, you guess.

you explain to them multiple times you haven’t done a residency yet and you really only know what an emt would, but they still swing by. every time they show up at your office, you feel your heart in your chest: this is it, this is how you die, this is how it ends.

“so, like, this group” you say, trying to work the system’s loopholes to find her a way out of it, “from … [more]
tumblr  short  author:inkskinned  2ndPOV  original  originalfics  genre:superhero 
december 2017 by Miscella
Patricia Russo: Mother Doesn't Trust Us Anymore
Mother doesn’t trust us anymore. She won’t let us leave the house. You just stay there where I can keep an eye on you, she says. No, you can’t go play in the yard. Don’t you move.

We’d noticed her starting to change a while ago. It worried us. When had she become different?

Bicky said she hadn’t. He said Mother had always been spiny-skinned, and the rest of us had just grown old enough to notice, was all. Besides which, she was teeter-wobble in the head. Anybody with so many kids had to be, Bicky said. It was just a fact.
giganotosaurus  !no_pairing  genre:drama  trope:worldbuilding  original  originalfics  trope:family  author:Patricia_Russo  short 
february 2017 by Miscella
unpretty: So.... avengers... magical girls? How would you handle this now if you revisited it, what reasoning do you remember behind your choices in the past,
I’ve always meant to rewrite Magical Girl Avengers, I’ve just never really found the time. The biggest problem was that I wasn’t willing to commit to how brown and gay it was. I wouldn’t want my Magical Girl AU to be too out there, thought me, a fool.

But the idea, generally, was:

Thor and Loki were sisters. Thor was tall and strong and golden. Loki was dark and quiet and clever and she lied like she breathed. The only person she couldn’t lie to was Heimdall - Heimdall who could see a blade of grass wave on another world, Heimdall who could hear her heart flutter, Heimdall who was deaf in one ear. Heimdall who drove a knife into his own head because he could hear the very future, and he heard his death at Loki’s hand.

So, of course, they fell in love.
author:unpretty  tumblr  fandom:Avengers  AU  au!avengers  fandom:Marvel  !het  rating:PG  short  trope:rule63 
november 2016 by Miscella
xzombiexkittenx: Catch and Release
"It occurs to Hannibal that if he had wanted Will dead, he probably should have killed him."
author:xzombiexkittenx  fandom:hannibal  genre:gen  !slash  short  rating:PG13  pairing:hannibal/will 
november 2016 by Miscella
Lumelle: Meeting Your Maker
The Halls of Ancestors are a big and complicated place for a small and not so complicated hobbit, particularly when one is more occupied with escaping scorn than finding his way. However, not all who wander are lost, and sometimes a seemingly chance meeting may change things for the better.

Or, the one where Bilbo receives some rather unexpected reassurance about his place among Thorin's people.
fandom:Tolkien  fandom:thehobbit  short  author:Lumelle  pairing:bilbo/thorin  character:kili  character:fili  series  genre:gen  rating:PG 
november 2016 by Miscella
unpetty: Gala
Gratitude galas for the Justice League were an ideal time for supervillainous plots, and so the assembled members should have been on high alert.

Should have been.

It was Diana who’d started it. Without a secret identity, she wasn’t obligated to wear her costume. She’d worn something white that draped and flowed in a Grecian cut, her preferred formal attire. Gold bands to draw the eye to her biceps. A slit down the side to show off the musculature of her thighs. Heels that put her at an even six feet, flowers in her hair.
fandom:dcu  fandom:justice_league  character:diana  character:selina_kyle  character:hal_jordan  tumblr  short  rating:PG13  character:clark_kent 
october 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: untitled
“Kyle?” Jimmy Olsen stared, incredulous, at his long-distance boyfriend. Who was standing outside of his apartment. Which was a short distance. His dog sniffed cautiously at Kyle’s shoes. “What are you doing here?”
tumblr  fandom:superman  fandom:green_lantern  author:unpretty  short  rating:PG  pairing:jimmy/ryan  character:ryan_rayner  character:jimmy_olson  !slash 
august 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: untitled
i like to imagine that clark kent’s search history is mostly normal but then there’s stuff like “improved superman costume concept art” because he wanted ideas
tumblr  fandom:superman  fandom:justice_league  character:kyle_rayner  character:jimmy_olson  character:clark_kent  !slash  paring:jimmy/kyle  short  rating:PG  genre:humor 
august 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Wedding Anniversary
Zhu Li woke abruptly when the orchestra started to play.

Or. It sounded like an orchestra, to her sleep-addled brain. It may not have been a full orchestra. It may have only been as few musicians as was necessary to emulate an orchestra.
genre:romance  fandom:atlok  author:unpretty  tumblr  short  pairing:varrick/zhu_li  !het  trope:marriage  rating:PG13 
august 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Varrick's father's day
Drabble from same verse as Icarus and the Sea
“I cannot believe you would do something so reckless,” Suyin fumed.

She’d been saying variations on the theme since they found him on the beach, and it was making it very hard for Iknik to be as smug as he felt was his due.
tumblr  author:unpretty  fandom:atlok  character:varric  rating:PG  genre:gen  short  character:OC  !no_pairing 
august 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Pokemon Go
“Jason, please explain to me why there’s a herd of millenials traipsing through my property.”

Jason looked over his shoulder. “Public outreach program,” he said, very convincing except for the part where it was bullshit.

Someone in the herd screeched. “There’s a Lapras by the duck pond!”

As one, they ran toward the unassuming water feature.
author:unpretty  tumblr  fandom:batman  character:jason_todd  character:bruce_wayne  genre:humor  rating:PG13  short  !no_pairing 
august 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Friends with Crows
“What is that?”

Superman followed the direction of Batman’s gaze. A crow had landed on the rooftop beside them, and dropped a bottlecap near Superman’s feet. “Oh! Hey Francis. Is that for me?”

“Caw,” said Francis.
author:unpretty  tumblr  Fandom:DC  fandom:superman  fandom:batman  character:bruce_wayne  character:clark_kent  genre:gen  rating:PG  short 
august 2016 by Miscella
Skymouth: Knit Wits
Bullock is blackmailed into a deal by Harley Quinn to keep a secret that could ruin his reputation. Slight language
ff  rating:PG13  fandom:batman  genre:humor  !no_pairing  author:Skymouth  short  fandom:btas  fandom:dcu  Fandom:DC  character:harvey_bullock  character:  Harley_Quinn 
july 2016 by Miscella
Immzie's Adventures Through Books - writing-prompt-s: Rewrite a classic fairy tale...
Rewrite a classic fairy tale by telling it backwards. The end is now the beginning.

Cannot be backed up by waybackmachine so it is below:

Once upon a time there was a princess who loved so deeply that her heart was worn constantly on her sleeve. She fell in love with a prince, and the next year, her father allowed them to be wed- he remembered his own wife every day, and wished his daughter to be as happy as he had been.

The day of the wedding came, and the girl walked down the aisle in a dress of gentle silver. The Prince took her hand and smiled, and leant in to kiss her.

For luck, he would later say. A kiss for luck, a smile for joy, a laugh for a happy ending. It was a saying his own family had had for years, but it was a saying that failed him.

For the second his lips touched hers, she fell to the floor with a sigh.

Not dead they healers told the prince. not dead but sleeping, not dead but unable to wake.

The prince- so ashamed, so in fear of his life and hers- stole her away from the castle that night, away from her father and her people, so they would never have to watch her waste away.

He hid her in a forest, in a casket of diamond and ice, and he waited. Waited, for he did not even know where to start. He did not even know if the hope for her waking had a point.

He was there for two days when they found him. Seven short folk, small men with beards and axes in their hands, and harsh smiles on their faces.

We can help you they said to him, the six cackling behind the speaker. But, prince, it will come at a price.

I would pay anything. He vowed. Only later, realising he should have asked what it would be.

The Seven disappeared and left him on his own. Alone, other than the silent not-dead princess at his side.

When they returned there was an eighth with them- an old frail woman with a basket in her hands.

We will wake her she said, pulling out an apple and throwing it in their air but you will never look at her, talk to her again, and she will work in the mines with my dwarves here.

He wanted to say no. But knowing she was alive, even out of reach, was better than sleep and near death.

so yes he said. Help her.

The old woman smiled and picked out a knife, cutting the apple into small parts. One, she handed to the prince, the other, she took over to the casket, and opening it, she placed it on the princess’ lips.

A gasp, a flash of her eyes opening, and the prince knew nothing more.


The princess woke in a place she did not know, surrounded by people she did not know. An old woman and short men- and her prince, asleep on the ground.

He is not dead the old woman said only sleeping. But around you, he will never wake. He saved you but cursed you both- and now your life is tied to my mines.

The princess tried to fight, to leave.

But the old woman had magic and she did not, and the dwarves were all she knew for many years. Sometimes as friends, sometimes as enemies, often arguing but always allies, they worked side by sides in the underground mines, looking for fairydust and rubies, magic and gold.

They taught her the songs of work and the songs of marches, and soon she forgot that she had even been a princess.

One evening she was walking back to their home alone, when she heard a noise to her left. She looked, expecting a rabbit, a bird, but out stepped a man with a bow in his hands.

You shouldn’t be out in the woods alone he said to her.

This is my home.

Trees are no home for anyone. She wondered if she should tell him of the many people hidden in the forest, each with no where else to go come with me.


Because I have a place you can go.

She should have said no- but what was there for her in the trees and the mine? So she took his hand and he led her out into the bright daylight, through winding roads intil they arrived at a castle she did not know.

where are we? she asked.

The Huntsman smiled my home, and the home of my queen.

He led her in through the doors, up to a room where a woman was sat on a throne. The woman stood as she saw the princess, staring at her in wide eyed shock.

You look just like her the queen whispered.

Once, the Huntsman said quietly, seeing the question in the princess’ eyes my queen had a child. A daughter who should have been your age. But she was stolen away by the man my queen loved.


I’m not her the princess said- but she had never known her mother. Only her father and an empty throne at his side.

No. the queen said, her tone one of disbelief. But I am in need of an heir, and you in need of care. Stay here a while, and let us see.
via:Carnadosa  trope:fairytales  tumblr  author:immzies-adventures-through-books  genre:fantasy  rating:PG  short 
july 2016 by Miscella
ofgeography: Ourselves We Find In The Sea
On the island of Kallsoy there is a story. The story says that once upon a time, there was a woman of the sea who fell so in love with a fisherman that she shed her skin and walked on new legs out of the waves to be his wife. She bore him many children, and never again turned her gaze to the sea.

The story says: you can make a human out of what is not. The story says: this new human will even love you for it.

This is not that story.
via:sevenses  originalfics  short  !femslash  !het  trope:pregnancy  trope:fairytales  genre:fantasy  rating:PG13  warning:torture  warning:death  tumblr  author:ofgeography  author:molly_hall 
july 2016 by Miscella
Kizmet: Cooking with Engineers
Part of series: Making a New Life

Bulma hopped up. “Stay right there!” she ordered as she rushed off.

“What?” Vegeta demanded.

“I need the proper equipment,” Bulma declared. “And an extra pair of hands.”

Vegeta stalked after Bulma, still protesting. “Woman, the difference between your cooking skills and mine are I know my limits are ki-roasting things I’ve killed.”
author:Kizmet  AO3  fandom:dragonball  genre:humor  pairing:bulma/vegeta  !het  rating:PG  short 
july 2016 by Miscella
RC_McLachlan: Kings and Queens
Written for the tumblr prompt: "Vegeta crowing he is the King of all Saiyans to Bulma and Trunks' consternation."
genre:humor  short  trope:family  character:trunks  !het  pairing:bulma/vegeta  rating:PG  fandom:dragonball  AO3  author:RC_McLachlan 
july 2016 by Miscella
miraculousandgrand: Wedding
Adrien lets Marinette handle the design aspects of the wedding, while he’s more attuned to the booking/scheduling/itinerary side of things (AND THE FOOD - LET THE BOY EAT). There’s many a day when he has to drag his wife away from handcrafting individual wedding party gifts and sewing her own dress to actually meet with caterers and venue managers.
author:miraculousandgrand  AO3  fandom:miraculous_ladybug  pairing:adrien/marinette  !het  genre:fluff  trope:marriage  short  tumblr  rating:G 
june 2016 by Miscella
damnslippyplanet:Take This Waltz
He remembers that dream well. There'd been bones strewn across the floor; they'd danced smoothly around them as if they were scattered rose petals. The office had smelled of death and, oddly, brandy. He'd pressed closer, into the antlers piercing him, and he'd felt strangely at peace. Abigail had played the harpsichord for their dance, and each note had sounded like something fragile shattering. He'd woken with a face wet with something that might have been sweat and might have been tears.
AO3  !slash  fandom:hannibal  pairing:hannibal/will  series  short  rating:PG13  trope:futurefic  genre:fluff  author:damnslippyplanet 
june 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Very Distinctive
“Parker, if he so much as gives you a bad feeling I want you to get the hell out of there as fast as you can.”

“What?” Parker looked back over her shoulder at the man currently adorned with three blondes, five brunettes, and a redhead. “Why?”

“Something’s not right,” Eliot said, which wasn’t an explanation at all.
author:unpretty  fandom:leverage  !no_pairing  tumblr  short  Fandom:DC  fandom:batman  character:alfred  rating:PG  crossover  character:parker  character:sophie  character:alec_hardison  character:eliot_spencer 
june 2016 by Miscella
parrishsrubberplant: Alicia Zimmerman has been a parent for 72 hours.
The drugs have worn off. She is tired. She is sore in new and unexpected places. Her hair still smells like hospital. She is so glad to be home.
fandom:omgcheckplease  author:parrishsruber  tumblr  !het  trope:marriage  trope:family  genre:fluff  rating:PG  short  pairing:alicia/bob 
june 2016 by Miscella
ts-porter: Alien Companions
Inspired by various tumblr posts.

Humans quickly get a reputation among the interplanetry alliance and the reputation is this: when going somewhere dangerous, take a human.
tumblr  trope:world  building  trope:culture_gap  trope:aliens  short  author:ts-porter  !no_pairing  genre:sci-fi  rating:PG  ace!character  author:thorinsmut  ~gender~ 
june 2016 by Miscella
quillofferings: Crazy Cat Lady
Yet another origin story for Catwoman. Blame it on the lack of universal health care.
author:aishuu  author:quillofferings  lj  !no_pairing  fandom:batman  fandom:dc  character:selina_kyle  genre:gen  short  rating:PG 
june 2016 by Miscella
mithen: May the Best Man Win
Superman has doubts about his mission to take down Batman. Bruce Wayne is there to listen to him.
lj  author:mithen  fandom:dc  fandom:superman  fandom:batman  fandom:thenewfrontier  rating:PG  pairing:bruce/clark  !slash  character:diana  short 
june 2016 by Miscella
furiroad: untitled
three hours until sunset. the shell of cheedo’s current project lies prone in front of her, and her hands are covered in grime. oil sticks, thick and unpleasant underneath of her fingernails. she wipes her cheek, hands tacky on her tired skin, and revels in the feeling of being filthy.
tumblr  short  character:cheedo  fandom:mad_max  pairing:cheedo/dag  !femslash  rating:PG  trope:characterstudy  genre:gen 
june 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Untitled

“Hmm?” Clark yawned, stretched out his toes but remained mostly sleeping.

“Do you maybe want to get back down here?” Lois sounded slightly annoyed. That didn’t seem good. He cracked an eye open.
author:unpretty  tumblr  short  pairing:clark/lois  !het  rating:PG  genre:fluff  Fandom:DC  fandom:superman 
june 2016 by Miscella
fresne: Revels of the Alien
"So, you're taking me to den of drugs and iniquity is what you're saying," said Lois.

"Also, gambling," said Clark helpfully.

Lois rolled her eyes. "I already said I'm in. You don’t have to keep sweetening the pot."

Or how Lois spent Christmas with Clark in Smallville.
author:fresne  Yuletide  yuletide14  AO3  genre:fluff  trope:family  tumblr  short  pairing:clark/lois  !het 
june 2016 by Miscella
HiddenKitty: Boots
Retired to the Shire with his husband Bilbo, Thorin Oakenshield finds he is more willing to adopt some Hobbitish habits than others...
!slash  Pairing:Bilbo/Thorin  Kink:Bondage  via:Carnadosa  author:HiddenKitty  kink  short  fandom:Tolkien  fandom:thehobbit  rating:R  trope:marriage  AU  au!thehobbit  AO3 
june 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Alibis
“Miss Cartwright? I’m with the Gotham P.D., I’m calling to ask about Bruce Wayne.”

Emily frowned and took the phone away from her ear to check the screen. Caller unknown. “What about him?”

“Do you happen to know where he was on the night of February twenty-second?”

“He was with me,” she lied immediately.
Sorta like the one I've been looking for
!no_pairing  genre:gen  genre:humor  trope:world  building  author:unpretty  tumblr  fandom:batman  Fandom:DC  character:OC  short 
june 2016 by Miscella
unpretty: Nick Fury is Full of Shit
“Welcome back, Agent Coulson.”

It was rarely a good day when a man woke up sore with Nick Fury above him, but Phil was grateful nonetheless. “I’m… alive?”
tumblr  !no_pairing  character:nick_fury  character:phil_coulson  fandom:Marvel  fandom:Avengers  rating:PG13  genre:gen  short 
june 2016 by Miscella
storypaint: Morning Rituals
Marriage is a learning process, and Shang is always learning new things about his bride.
lj  !het  fandom:mulan  fandom:disney  pairing:mulan/shang  rating:G  trope:marriage  author:storyaint  short  genre:fluff 
june 2016 by Miscella
storypaint: Flowering
Jane knew apes, but she felt a woeful ignorance when it came to plants.
lj  author:storypaint  !het  fandom:disney  fandom:tarzan  pairing:jane/tarzan  genre:fluff  rating:G  short 
june 2016 by Miscella
dyin' historic: Furiosa's Crew
The moment you realize that Furiosa’s crew of War Boys, those in her convoy, were the only ones to have a moment where they helped each *other* escape death
tumblr  fandom:mad_max  character:curiosa  short  rating:PG  trope:meta  genre:gen  author:dyinghistoric  !no_pairing 
june 2016 by Miscella
KrisEleven: First Snowflake
The Shang Falcon and his new student are on the road north to Maren. She has never before left the hot southern deserts. He has, unknowingly, failed at convincing her snow is real.
AO3  !no_pairing  fandom:Tortall  fandom:tamora_pierce  short  rating:PG  genre:gen  genre:fluff  trope:friendship  author:KrisEleven  series  character:kylaia  character:joesh 
june 2016 by Miscella
kittyunpretty: NO GOOD DEED
She probably should have eaten before she left for the vet, but she wasn’t actually sure how long the dog would last without medical attention. Also, making a West Highland Terrier watch while she ate his owner seemed like it would be adding insult to considerable injury.
author:kittyunpretty  genre:supernatural  rating:PG13  originalfics  short  !no_pairing  warning:death  author:unpretty 
june 2016 by Miscella
There was a shadow in the far-left corner of her eye. He’d been there for as long as she could remember. She’d been trying not to look at him for just as long. She didn’t know what would happen if she looked. She only knew that whenever she came close, she was overwhelmed with a sense of all-consuming dread. The shadow wanted her to look at him, but that only increased her certainty that she shouldn’t.
author:kittyunpretty  originalfics  !no_pairing  genre:fantasy  trope:fairytales  genre:gen  rating:PG  short  author:unpretty 
june 2016 by Miscella
What The Bride Took
The bride took her husband’s last name. The bride took her mother-in-law’s bracelet. The bride took six gold candlesticks from the reception hall. The bride took her sister’s dignity and her cousin’s eyes. The bride was last seen heading north.
originalfics  !no_pairing  genre:gen  genre:humor  short  via:ayries 
may 2016 by Miscella
scifigrl47: Holding Ground
SHIELD would be on site in fourteen minutes. Thor was eleven minutes out. Iron Man was eight minutes away. They updated him, constantly, voices in his ear, cries from a distance.

Steve knew he wasn’t going to last long enough for any of them to reach him.
Author:Scifigrl47  tumblr  short  genre:gen  trope:friendship  trope:characterstudy  character:OC  character:steve_rogers  character:sabertooth  fandom:Marvel  fandom:Avengers  character:tonystark  character:bruce_banner  rating:PG13 
may 2016 by Miscella
idiopathicsmile: Curse benefits
“So what you’re saying is that, until that one specific date, I am effectively immortal?”

“Technically yes, but then–” the King stammered.

“Wow,” said the princess, who was sixteen and did not possess amazing impulse control. “I’m gonna go teach myself how to juggle chainsaws while hang gliding over shark-infested waters, catch you chuckleheads later.”
genre:fluff  short  trope:fairytales  genre:fantasy  !femslash  tumblr  rating:G  author:idiopathicsmile  character:OC 
may 2016 by Miscella
lazulisong: tag ur porn
The screen blipped and the person reappeared, now clutching a large Ragdoll cat who was purring even as the human muffled another scream in it's fur. "Omigod. Omigod. I'm calm. I'm calm. GUYS. So you remember how I said I hoped you'd send in reaction vids to the hairstyle tutorials? I think Captain America just sent me one, oh my fucking God." They squeezed the cat tightly enough that it let out a mildly protesting squeak. "OH GOD, Roadkill, I'm so sorry, Mommy's so excited right now." They let go of the cat and it sort of flowed into a puddle between them and the camera. "Okay. Okay. Roll video."

Sam paused the video long enough to break out the ginger ale and vodka.
author:lazulisong  AO3  fandom:Marvel  fandom:Avengers  fandom:captain_america  character:sam_wilson  character:steve_rogers  character:bucky  genre:humor  short  rating:PG13  trope:meta 
may 2016 by Miscella
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