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haztobegood · 2 months

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Last Line Challenge

Thank you @reminiscingintherain for tagging me to share my last line! This is from my alien!Harry fic:

On the walk home, Louis couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Harry, and about the accusations Niall made after he’d left.

22 words! I tag @allwaswell16 @beelou @choface @disgruntledkittenface @evilovesyou @louandhazaf @kingsofeverything @fallinglikethis @juliusschmidt @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @londonfoginacup @voulezloux @panye @laynefaire @littleobelia @zanniscaramouche @justanothershadeofblue @hellolovers13 @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @loveislarryislove @daggerandrose @littleroverlouis

#fics and wips

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foxgirlpenis · 1 month

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I guess now I should trawl through people's blogs and try and find my old stuff huh

#which is the only reason i made this and the only thing i will ever post #fics and wips

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givemeureyes · 10 months

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day 1 without ao3: i have gone through all 5 stages of grief multiple times and have invented a 6th. i will not disclose what the 6th stage of grief is.

#I AM GOING INSANE #what am i supposed to do??#’you should work on your WIP’ NO I CANTTT #‘ read actual books on your real bookshelf’ NUH UH #ao3 #archive of our own #i’m tagging ships #malec #destiel #hannigram #jonmartin #tomgreg #kenstewy #imagine all the fics i could be reading rn

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mysicklove · 5 months

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reader who gets reincarnated lifetime after lifetime and sukuna, who is desperatly in love with you, so he waits each lifetime, only to have the same results: you despising every bone in his body. no matter how weak he makes himself, having tried so many times to get you to fall for him, you always figure out what, who he is, and the cycle repeats. because sukuna may love you, but you will never pine for a monster. and with every death, he waits, and tries again, because maybe one day he will figure it out what it takes to make your heart sing. maybe one day you wont care that he is the king of curses and will give him just a drop of affection. but for now, he kisses your hand, imagining your eyes to be softer, and waits for the familiar slap across his cheek for daring to lay his disgusting hands on you

#🔪 - mello talks too much #fic idea #except i have too many WIPS #LOL #reincarnation au

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sp0o0kylights · 5 months

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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all.

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”

Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

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blainke-omens · 29 days

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Crowley Does Pottery HC anyone ? Because … it has a grip on me. I couldn’t hold back posting this wip any longer — I am so desperate for anyone else to share my vision in this.

#you gotta think about all the METAPHORS #I could go on and on and on about why it fits him so well #and I am.#in my own notes app currently for now #I’ll post the lil fic I’m noodling about on someday #but until then #wip pottery Crowley #good omens #Crowley #good omens fanart #blainkes wips

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haztobegood · 9 months

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Caramelized Onions

An excerpt from the 1d group chat based on this tumblr post

Liam: Dinner at our house Sunday 7pm Harry: 👍 Harry: What are you making? I’ll bring a wine to pair with it Louis: It better not be another unseasoned chicken 🤢 Niall: It’s been six years!!! Louis: And that poor flavourless bird still haunts my dreams Liam: I promise no unseasoned chicken here. I’ve been working on the menu all week. Did you know how hard it is to caramelize onions? Louis: Who’s fucking carmelizing onions? Louis: Have you sociopaths forgotten that apples exist? Liam: [picture of under-cooked onions on his stove] Louis: Oh Harry: They’re practically raw! Liam: But they’ve been cooking for ten minutes, I don’t want them to burn. Harry: Oh you sweet summer child, caramelized onions take time and a lot more patience. You’ve got a lot to learn smh Niall: At least my man knows what a caramelized onion is. Your man thinks caramelizing onions is putting caramel on onions 😂 Louis: Oi!

#ficlet #fics and wips #1d fanfiction #larry fanfic #haztobegood writes fic

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nariism · 7 months

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ೃ⁀➷ THIEF! ★

Based off this ask by @raphuna-nekomada !!

The first time, Neuvillette brushed it off as if nothing had happened.

He spent the entire morning looking for his dedicated Monday bow, black with silver intricacies that you personally picked out for him many years ago.

"Must be a sign from the universe not to go into work," you hummed from the bed, rolling over and inviting him back under the blanket. He hadn't indulged you on Monday, instead opting to use his Tuesday ribbon and huffing about how he would find the missing article later.

The second time it happened, he was suspicious.

Two days in a row his ribbon had gone missing, now his Wednesday ribbon had been used for Tuesday. It irked him, and while he had no other reason to suspect that you were the culprit, the way you beckoned him back to bed again flicked a switch in his mind.

Ultimately, he hadn't indulged you on Tuesday either.

The third time it happens, he saunters up to your side of the bed immediately.

"My love," he calls, and for a moment you think he hasn't caught you because he's lacking any sort of stern tone— the kind he would address Wriothesley with.

"Yes?" You peer up at him with a glimmer of mischief, clutching something to your chest. His eyes narrow and he kneels onto the bed beside you.

"Have you seen my ribbon?"

"I haven't."

"Are you sure? I'm certain I left it on the dresser last night."

"You must be imagining things, dearest."

You give him a sly, lazy smile and that's when he knows you're nothing but a terrible liar. He nearly scoffs in your face, leaning down closer so he can look at you with a hardening expression.

"And what exactly is your ploy here? Would you like me to wrestle it out of your hands?"

Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you laugh, clearly finding his suggestion humorous. "Would it keep you at home longer if you did?"

The gears turn in his head at your words, slow realization washing over him as you blink up innocently. (Feigning innocence, actually. Poorly.)

Ah, so that's what this is all about.

"You want me to stay home?"

A beat of silence. "And if I said yes?"

"You know my answer." Yet he hasn't pulled away, gotten off the bed, and left for work like he does every morning. In fact, you're pretty sure he's drawn a couple inches closer to you.

The fabric you stole from him suddenly wraps around the back of the neck and you rein him in until he's hovering just above you, arms and legs caging you in on either side.

"Got you," you sing quietly.

His gaze flickers down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "You got me," he repeats in faux defeat, swooping down to capture you in a kiss.

He starts to think that maybe a day off wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he has more than one trial today and there is no one to fill his role in his absence.

Still, Neuvillette decides that he can come to a compromise if only to hold you like this before his busy day. Besides, if he didn't indulge you now this would never end.

"Ten more minutes."

"Ouch. Stingy."

He smothers you under his body so you'll stop talking.

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stevesbipanic · 8 months

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Eddie gets stuck in a time loop but has no idea why, his day is normal, there's not even a test that day that he can use this to pass. After a few time loops he says fuck it let's start doing fun things, starting with talking to his crush, the lovely Fallen King Steve. After a few loops Steve starts talking back, soon there's whole loops with just them hanging out.

Little does Eddie know, Steve is in a time loop too trying to stop the Upside Down once again, he's just having a hard time caring when there's this sweet metalhead chatting him up everyday. Maybe he deserves to waste a few loops.

#the eddie joking about time loop foc will come #BUT THIS IDEA HAS BEEN EATING AT ME I AM WRITING IT CURRENTLY #sorry bb fic youll get your turn v soon #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #time loop au #wip

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sentient-stove · 5 months

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“Wait, wait, wait, short baby Robin, back it up. You followed a radioactive green dog into the sewers? With no weapons?”

“Don’t be an idiot Grayson, I always have a weapon on me. It’d be counterproductive if I didn’t. Anyway- the dog disappeared and I was already down there so I followed the voices to this room—”

“You followed voices?!?”

“Do try to keep up.” Damian snipped. “Yes, and there was a room down there, like some sort of tomb and then I pulled this guy out of the coffin there.” And subsequently gave himself mild frostbite he was guessing by the way he still couldn’t feel his hands. Dick looked mid aneurysm at Damian’s minimal explanation but that had the benefit of him not asking anymore questions as he let them into the apartment, offering to take the teenager from Damian wordlessly.

“Did he tell you anything?” Dick pressed fingers to the teen’s wrist, brow furrowed. “Low pulse, okay. Okay. To the living room then. Was he awake when you got him out?”

“For a few moments.”

“And did you ask him for a name?”

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I was preoccupied with finding a living person in a glass coffin Grayson. He did say one thing though.” Besides thanking Damian but he was keeping that to himself for as long as he could.

“What was it?”

“The Packers suck.”

“Like the football team?” Dick questioned and Damian shrugged.

#dc x dp #damian wayne #dick grayson #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #fanfic #wip hell #is it just me or would a Danny Phantom fic set in the 80s would slap #cause like satanic panic factoring into the ghost fear #but that’s not this wip lol #anyway I’m out #he’s! a! phantom!#glass casket au

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