"In which Reyna knows a soldier should never daydream, but gives into the nonsense anyway." Written for Anti-Valentines Day.

"She looked down at the book in her hands. Art, it read. Katniss groaned." In which two heads collide, cake is exchange, and books are forgotten. College AU.

"Rose puts a finger to her chin and Sherlock bumps his shoulder against hers, laughing. 'Mm, okay.' She says. She kisses him smack on the lips and Sherlock's so surprised he doesn't react. John got the whole thing on camera. Later on it was put in a box marked Middle of the End." Crossover. Oneshot. Wholock.

"Sometimes Rachel woners why not many stories are wtitten about her. But she doesn't really mind. She's okay, being mysterious. And it was in moments like these, with the sun warming her face and breeze blowing around them, that Rachel thought her fate just ... right."

"Pretty." Tyson froze, hands hidden in the sand, his one eye wide when he layed eye on the person who's spoken. Well, half-person. "Ella?" Tyson breathed out. [written for PJO Ship Week: Tyson and Ella week.]

"My name is Percy Jackson. I'm underestimated a lot. But that's okay. It makes it easier to surprise people that way."

"You look handsome in the morning light." Her voice is soft and full of sleepy smiles as his eyes snap over to her again; "Of course," Hermione sleepily continues as she stretches, "you look handsome all the time, but this morning especially." [It happened slowly, Hermione supposes. Falling in love with Fred. Oneshot. AU. Fremione.]

"What can I do for ya, curly?" The bartender asks, grinning at his own nickname. "Curly," she snorts, "real creative." The bartender shrugs: "I mean, it was either that or calling you beautiful, and I didn't want you to faint on the first meeting." She rolls her eyes. He doesn't see her blush. [Fred x Hermione. Fremione. AU. Oneshot.]

He doesn't say anything that night, but when the party ends, he slips his number into her phone and tells her to use it. She smiles and says she'll do her best. He doesn't leave until she promises to do better than her best; and she does. [Fremione. Fred x Hermione. Oneshot. AU.]

His parents had taught him to unreservedly love with all of himself. They had neglected to tell him that this could hurt. [Fred and Hermione. Fremione. Oneshot.]

She can't help the sigh of relief that escapes her lips when she sees him, his shoulders hunched, looking smaller than usual against the pale sky that looms against him. He's always made himself out to be so tall, to be so steady, to be unstoppable. She's always been one of the few to know better. [Hinny. Post-war fic. Oneshot.]

"He decides it's a sign from God that he's to kill her, when she comes home drunk and dandy. She's giggling, and he hears her voice, not through electronics but for real, for the first time. He's almost enchanted, and now Jason knows why she's got every man around her finger." Jason and Piper. AU. Oneshot.

When she was alive, she came in every Friday. He never talked to her, never waved. All he did was notice that she came in every Friday. She was always alone. When she left, she hugged aunt Cass, even gave her the Last Hug. Every time. She didn't come in on Fridays, anymore. [Cover Art not mine.]

"What is calculus and why does it exist?" She asked. / Just a Rory Williams and Amy Pond college AU. Oneshot.

"They say the 221b Baker Street flat is up for rent, now."

"She was okay, in the end, though. Remembering the happy stuff, remembering you couldn't always be ready to pounce and overly curious. It was hard, not asking questions. She'd been curious ever since she was five. Ever since they had told her not to ask." Future fic. Oneshot. Written in honor of the soldiers and families with people serving.

Slight AU! "We can't just walk into a school and pretend to be normal, can we? I don't think so. But we really don't have a choice. Demigods are getting found and killed by monsters faster than we'd like." Co-written with ADayWithoutSmilingIsADayWasted.

He'd talk about her, sometimes. When they'd come back to the TARDIS, tired, and have a little too much to drink (well, Martha never did; she was too moral for that), or even in his sleep, he'd slump down onto the floor or onto whatever couch there was, and start mumbling. He'd say her name. "She had a beautiful name. Beautiful. Her name... her name was Rose."

"She can see his face. She can see herself looking down, shy, at their bare feet. And her feet are smaller than his." Just a drabble I thought up on Tumblr.

"Her eyes were heavy, her breath slow, and when she closed her eyes, all Emma could see was the blood on Hook's shirt, and the way his light faded before her eyes." Written for Whovanger259. NOW COMPLETE :D