Life’s kind of shitty, so can people send me prompts? They don’t even need to be Fandom or ship specific, like anything could probably work and would be very much appreciated.
summary: Ali tasted like airplane peanuts and mint chapstick rubbed away on the back of her hand. Dreams normally ended after we kissed, but maybe the carbon monoxide made this one longer. Maybe that’s why she asked and why I said yes.
notes: People seemed upset, so here’s a thing.
Ali tasted like airplane peanuts and mint chapstick rubbed away on the back of her hand. She had called it her secret to mystifyingly soft lips, and she swore no one had to know but me. Maybe everyone she kissed knew, or maybe she’d just put some on, just for me, in this dream. I barely reacted enough to kiss her back. I didn’t mind, though; it felt more like that was for Alison than for me.
I relaxed, sinking back into the jean jacket on her lap and her sun-kissed legs. I definitely could’ve fallen asleep like that. Or woken up? I had to be dreaming, an after effect from the car’s carbon monoxide. But even if I was dreaming, if I woke up, then Ali would go away again, and I’d be right back to jolting awake at four in the morning and curling up by the window until my heart slowed down. Back to looking over my shoulder to tell her a joke and doing a double take at every blonde girl in the distance.
Before I even opened my eyes, I was shaking my head. Begging her, “Ali, you can’t go.”
bonus ‘cause Castor clone, what’s up?
Paul’s lacing up his boots when he brings it up. He glances from the top of his shoe to where Cas keeps adjusting that red hat.
"You ever gonna tell me why they call you Cas?"
Cas pauses, eyes up to Paul’s reflection in the mirror for a second before focusing back on the hat. “You never asked.”
Paul puts his foot down. “I’m asking now.”
Cas drops his hands and turns. “You’re demanding.”
"I thought that’s what you liked."
"Not about this. It’s a dumb nickname. Don’t worry about it."
"If it’s so dumb, why do you respond to it?"
"At least this way they know who I am. I’m not just another face in the mob."
[twenty-seven years later, I give you talks of a Castor clone and a still shady Paul Dierden.]
"You and Cas are close then." It’s not a question, and Paul — straightening up even further into the metal chair in his CO’s office — recognizes it as such.
"Clone enough," Paul says.
Closer than most people are to the new recruit. Though, Cas isn’t exactly new to anything. Not to their unit — his nickname preceded him, popping up into whispered conversations months before he joined them — and not to this game — this slow, animalistic hunt for a distraction.
Honestly, Paul doesn’t need much of a distraction anyway. Beth’s practically a glorified house guest at this point. A pen pal maybe? He should probably write her back.
His CO coughs to get his attention. Says, “You should keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s adjusting well out here.”
Why does that make Paul think he’s being set up? Sacrificed on the altar of their favorite soldier? Drafted into another war before he’s finished with the last one?
"Sir?" Paul asks. He’s not exactly sure what the question is.
"He’s your responsibility now." The CO nods once before cocking an eyebrow almost mockingly. "You two ‘close enough’ for that?"
They can be. “Yes, sir.”
summary: Emily turns to Spencer for advice on how to handle this whole kind-of-sort-of-dating-Ali thing. It might not be the best idea. [Written in text format.]
speed reading guide: For those who don’t really want to read headers, bold headers mean Spencer-Emily texting. Bold&Italic headers means Hanna’s involved (so Hanna-someone). Bold&Underline headers means Alison’s involved.
From Hanna Marin to Spencer Hastings, 10:08am
Ali wants to move in with me. You do know this is the exact opposite of what I want, right?
From Spencer Hastings to Hanna Marin, 10:08am
That’s perfect! Let her stay with you.
From Hanna Marin to Spencer Hastings, 10:09am
So A can break in and strangle her at my house? No thanks.
From Spencer Hastings to Hanna Marin, 10:10am
But if Ali stays with you, then she won’t be sharing a bed with Emily anymore.
From Hanna Marin to Spencer Hastings, 10:10am
What if she invites Emily to my room??
From Spencer Hastings to Hanna Marin, 10:11am
Then you kick them out. It’ll still be your room, Hanna.
Harry and the Orphans? Harry and the Clone Club?
Orphan Black/ Harry Potter crossover. More thingies here. (◕‿◕✿)
highlight of the day is definitely this fake snapchat. Emily’s all dressed, wonder what it’s for.
The house is huge.
You crane your neck to get a full view. The towering walls are painted white, the siding black. Your eyes go wide as you take in the rolling hill it sits upon. You can smell salt water on the air.
“And you’re willing to rent this out to me?” you ask skeptically, turning to stare down at the elderly woman.
“This house just sits here, empty and lonely. It would be a comfort to know somebody is keeping it company.” Her eyes are shining.
The wind blows, and you get the eerie feeling that she’s not just talking about the house.
How much fanfic would you say you read by your own measurement? A lot? A little?
I read fanfics the way you fall asleep, a little and then a lot at once.
Really though, I’ll go months with only reading oneshots, or minifics, by authors I really love, and then I’ll stay up for like a week reading three different 46+ chapter fics of varying fandoms because I have no self control and a very varied attention span.
What types of fanfic do you read? Is your “type” fandom-specific?
Angsty AUs, long-winded slow burns, fix-that-plot-hole fics, kid!AUs, Hogwarts!AUs, Hunger Games!AUs, fake dating tropes, coffee shop AUs <— that’s non-fandom specific and I’m there in a heartbeat for pretty much any of those.
One fandom specific thing is that I love reading Snape adopts Harry fanfics, mostly because then Snape’s not an ass to Harry for seven years.
Emily had trouble falling asleep with Paige. Sometimes, she’d try to and Paige would be holding her but then her lungs tightened and she felt the water rising around her and her face flushing and her arms thrashing and she has to fight to breathe.
It’s easier with Ali, even if it is just as convoluted.