#ccff

[clintcoulsonficfinders]

Not sure if you guys are still finding, but I’m looking for a fic where there are omegaverse dynamics (kind of?) but everyone has wings and are sort of bird/human hybrids. There’s a great scene where Phil does a mating dance in the SHIELD cafeteria, if I recall correctly.

This blog is mostly inactive, so I can't guarantee quick answers, but I do know this one. The fic you're looking for is Love of a Particular Kind by Laurakaye.

[oldfilmsflicker]

new-to-me #311 - Betty Boop in Snow-White

[marinecosplay]

(2/3) Our fanvideo based on the iconic scene to celebrate Crisis Core Reunion <3

Sephiroth by @yukilefay​ Angealhewley by @vincecoss Genesis by @marinecosplay Shot, directed, edited by @fotografohard Complete with extras - https://shorturl.at/wDSVX

[toolshed-marshwalker]

wip fic section under the cut

They couldn’t see much down the alleyway outside of the obvious acts of a drug dealer getting brutalized, but they could see enough to know the people brutalizing Towelie had taken notice of the boys watching. They hesitated their attack, boots stopping mid swing and fists pulled back in pause. The goons looked to their boss, who said something unintelligible, and the goons got to their feet and started towards to them, breaking into runs.

Kenny swung on his feet instantly, Stan turned and began to push into Kyle (Who was known for freezing up) and heard himself yell Bail! Bail! As the three of them took off running.

Stan was in pretty good shape, generally, with time on the farm and semi-regular work outs and gym classes, so he was okay – Kyle was fucking fast, able to run like a wild horse taking off down the street, not waiting for the other two. Stan was wheezing before he knew it, asthma reactivating at the worst possible time (as usual), but none of that mattered. Kenny.

Kenny smoked. Cigarettes. A lot. Mostly it was three or four cigarettes a day but on the days where he was stressed it could be up to a pack a day. He walked everywhere, sure, but that didn’t do much. He didn’t eat enough, he didn’t work out, never slept well or enough. His shoes were crap and after two blocks he disappeared from Stan’s peripheral entirely.

Stan came to a stop. “Kenny?!” He cried out into the empty street. Down the road, Kyle was slowed down, trying to hear the problem.

“Kenny?!” Stan cried again. He had just vanished into thin air. Stan looked off into the nearest alleyway, trying to see if maybe Kenny dipped into the shadows, knowing he couldn’t run any further.

When Kyle’s hands appeared on Stan’s shoulders it scared the crap out of him. He latched onto Kyle’s jacket, breathless and still scanning around for Kenny.

“Kenny’s gone. I don’t know where he went.” He breathed, throat tight, long wheezing noises coming from every inhale. His lungs felt like they had shrunk. He couldn’t run much more.

But Kyle was tugging him along. “We don’t have time to find him, those guys will kill us. We have to go, stan, we have to go, come on.”

“I can’t--, I can’t…”

“Come on, you can.”

Kyle pulled on him, hands on his shoulders and then his arms, his hands, yanking him down the road. Stan ran along side him, loosing the ability to breath every time. His chest began to burn, and he wasn’t nearly as stable as he usually was, going too fast under Kyle’s speeding tempo. Stan’s eyes flickered and followed every small hideaway, every alley and into every lit establishment, looking for Kenny as though he might have appeared randomly in any nearby building.

They finally stopped near a plaza, after Stan tripped and almost ate shit into the curb, rasping and coughing instead of breathing. Kyle dropped to the ground too, though he wasn’t nearly out of breath. He was on his knees, while Stan just laid down onto the concrete, back against the snowy floor. The coolness that shocked through his coat eased the burning along his torso. Kyle set Stan’s head against his lap, so that when Stan opened his eyes, all he saw was the outline of Kyle’s hair, the glimmer of light from the plaza signs reflecting onto the wireframe glasses sliding of Kyle’s nose.

“Do you have your inhaler?” Kyle asked, hands placed around Stan’s ears. Had his hat fallen off? Stan felt dizzy.

He tried to rasp out a no, but instead he had to settle for shaking his head against the warmth of Kyle’s hands.

“God damnit.” Kyle muttered. He looked up, probably looking around for the goons or for Kenny. Stan tried to stay focused on not passing out. He wasn’t a runner. He wasn’t an athlete. He focused on the line of Kyle’s jaw, the spiraling red curls that moved and bounced with every minor twitch of Kyle’s head. Stan couldn’t see his eyes, but rarely could, since his glasses always seemed to be in the way, glaring light at Stan. He was sure Kyle’s eyes were green. Or something. Greenish. Stan conked out.

[freyjaiam]

A6g

Captain Canary—Western AU— “Tell me again why you’re naked?”

“So… Tell me again why you’re naked?”

Sara and Mick shared a look before returning their gaze to Leonard, who was calmly leaning over a banister while taking in the sight of his wife and his best friend who were both naked as the day they were born. 

“You see, Boss… We were enjoying a drink down at the saloon…” started Mick.

“When Sheriff Hunter and his crew came in, saw us, and started a brawl,” continued Sara. 

“We managed to take most of them out with a few punches and bottles to the head,” said Mick, who then grunted in amusement. “Threw Hunter right out the swinging doors and into a big pile of horse shit.”

“Go on,” said Leonard, already amused by the story. He had on a black duster, something he could easily offer Sara, but he knew she’d have some sort of offense at the gesture. If she were cold or uncomfortable, she’d have asked for his jacket. Instead, she seemed to be enjoying being bare to the elements… And Leonard had to admit he was surprised Mick’s gaze didn’t wander more than it had already. Mick was doing his best to be loyal to him and respectful to Sara.

“Well he got right prickly after being tossed in the dung,” said Sara, eyes sparkling with glee as she tossed back her wet, muddy hair over her shoulder. “So he decided to cheat by bringing out his gun.”

“Always needing his toys to feel manly,” muttered Mick. “His gun jammed and we got the hell out. Decided to cut through the marsh...”

“Damn skirts weighed me down so I got rid of them,” said Sara with a shrug.

“And your excuse?” asked Leonard, looking to Mick.

“Well, hell, if she was gettin’ naked then so was I!” Mick let out a belch. “Wouldn’t be right to let her be the only one standing out if someone were to catch us.”

“You’re both filthy,” commented Leonard.

“Well, it was basically a swamp we just trod through,” said Sara, who cocked out her hip and placed her hand on it. “As if you don’t enjoy the view!”“Oh, I do,” said Leonard, his voice a low purr. He then turned his attention to Mick. “Go clean yourself up!”

Mick gave Leonard a salute then headed to the small part of their hideaway that was his and his alone. Leonard wasn’t sure if he’d actually go wash himself up, but he wanted Sara’s full attention. He straightened from his lean on the banister and moved down the porch. His boots thunked against the wood as he traveled down the steps. He grinned as he got to Sara, tipping up his hat slightly before reaching out with his gloved hand to trail a finger down her arm. She shivered at the contact. His blue eyes watched with keen interest as the cool air and her excitement worked together to pebble her nipples.

“Sara...” Another shiver. “Someone’s been bad...”

“You like it when I’m bad,” she said, stepping into his space, absorbing some of his warmth. 

“True... But I like it more when you don’t smell like a swamp.”

“Well, hell, did you want me to get caught instead?” asked asked, giving him a swat on the chest. Her hand was dirty and it left some residue on his shirt. He ignored it, instead pulling her in closer to him, making her squirm. “Leonard!”

“Yes?”

“Let me go!”

“Say pretty please,” he murmured into her ear and she sighed.

“You cheat. You know I’m a sucker for your drawl,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his.

“Not all of us... Can be... Proper folk,” he said between each kiss, his voice more breathless with each passed word.

“I’m not proper,” she said, biting his lower lip.

“Not anymore,” he countered, hauling her up flush against him. “How about we make ourselves a bath and continue this inside?”

“Yeah, good idea, the mud is starting to set.”

They took their bath. Took extra time to make sure each spot on their bodies was squeaky clean. They then settled on the sheets in the bed they called theirs for now, knowing it was only temporary because Hunter and his men could find their location at any time. When and if they did, the trio would move on as they always did. 

Because the only thing they really needed was each other.

Oh, and the money they kept stealing and stashing away throughout the county.

That, too.

send me a prompt

[clintcoulsonficfinders]

I know that post was made in error but it was fun seeing the page on my dash all of a sudden, after so long! Hope you're doing well, Fic Finder!

I am the CCFF blog owner (although I stepped down as one of the folks doing the answering years and years ago), and I have no idea what's going on here. LOL. I assume one of the other admins (there are three others still on the blog) made an accidental post and then deleted it, but timing meant that I never saw it. Ghost post!

Anyway, I keep the blog up so that folks can browse past searches and lists, but lest I give folks hope, we're not really operating anymore.

*waves*

[oldfilmsflicker]

new-to-me #331 - Au 8ème Jour (On the 8th Day)

[oldfilmsflicker]

new-to-me #333 - Dandelion