Sometimes I look at my AO3 stats and I could just cry.
Like I can’t believe that so many people like my semi-coherent thoughts. It’s genuinely insane and I don’t know how to say thank you because I don’t really have the words to express how I feel about it. All the love <3
Do you think “my-mom-gave-me-her-engagement-ring-the-day-after-our-first-date” or “me-and-my-little-brother-did-as-many-jobs-as-we-could-find-and-scrounged-up-money-to-buy-this-for-you” is a better for the “I’ve known you for years but I didn’t realize I was in love with you” trope
Just wanna shoutout to all fanfic writers who write on their smartphones.
I’m uterlly impressed and wish I had the same patience. Bravo👏
I need to write so I’m asking y’all to send me prompts to jog my stupid muse who refuses to cooperate right now.
Fandoms I am open to include:
If you have any ideas for hurt and grieve (my fic on ao3) or have any specific US NAVY SEAL Evan Buckley ideas those are extremely desired. Thank youuu ❤❤❤
Luke’s not quite sure how he gets himself in these situations. It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission to find possible locations for a new base. But isn’t it always? And then the abandoned building he’d been looking into had collapsed on top of him for seemingly no reason—just his luck.
He groans, blinking away the darkness from the rubble that had knocked him briefly unconscious. Or at least that’s what he assumes happened based on the pounding in the back of his skull. His eyes feel like they’re burning too, though, which is odd. He blinks a few more times. Maybe he got trapped beneath some of the building because it’s still dark, and he knows it was early morning when he landed. He can’t have been out cold for that long.
But the darkness isn’t leaving, and there’s a stinging pain in his eyes. He pushes himself up, his hands catching and scraping against rocks and dirt. Luke blinks more; nothing changes. He can feel the rocks beneath his feet, the dust coating his hands, and the sweat and blood mingling on his forehead as the heat caresses his face. But still, there’s nothing—just blackness.
Something akin to panic floods his veins, and he almost rubs at his eyes before he remembers the blood staining them. He can’t see. He can’t see. Why? Why can’t he see ? His fingers clench at his sides, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. He can’t panic; he still needs to find his ship and get off this planet before whatever collapsed the building finds him. It could have been a structural issue, but it also could have been something more sinister. There’s no shortage of people after him.
Luke sucks in another breath, unclenching his prosthetic, and blinks one more time. The darkness doesn’t clear. Okay, it’s fine. He can do this. He just needs to stay calm.
continue reading here
hi there! still working through our asks, BUT! I wrote a langst one shot >:)))
-val
You’re finally better than me by BrushYrTeeth (1/1 | 1416 | mature)
The Paladins were on a mundane mission. It would’ve been so easy if they had stayed together. Instead, Keith and Lance insisted on venturing off together.
// major character death //violence
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/308GW8o
Peter comes to a stop, and when he does he hears the sound of four bodies impacting the ground with so much force that bones have to be broken. He turns back to the twins, who are both frozen and looking at him through shocked, wide eyes. For a few moments, nobody moves as Peter stares at them confusedly. Is that really them?
“Uncle P!” Tommy cries out, and both boys run towards him. Well, that answers one of Peter’s many questions.
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Billy and Tommy Maximoff show up in Peter’s reality and tells him their mother was attacked and captured, and Peter is the only person who can do something about it.
Words: 7490, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Taste of a Sweeter Life
Making my entry into the Hannibal fanfiction writer club! Please enjoy trans Will Graham with hannigram fluff for good measure