as-seen-on-my-ff

Because of all the disgusting anon hate happening today, here’s some resources so we can hopefully find out who is sending all these horrible messages. x x x x 

More importantly, here are some resources to make you feel better. You are amazing and so so loved by us and your family and friends.  Stay strong babes x x x x x x x x x x x

i don't wanna kiss you goodnight (if a kiss means this night is over)

(extended kiss scene with a fluffy silly twist because I wanted this to happen as soon as that scene started, okay.)

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“I’m her father. It’s my job to ruin it for her.” - Little Mosque on the Prairie

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“Will you go out with me again?” he asks softly, eyebrow raised just a little and looking unaccountably nervous - except Emma was there herself this morning, and knowing you’ll get a yes somehow doesn’t help quiet the nerves at all. It’s been over a decade since she’s been out on a real, no-curse-involved date… and honestly, you couldn’t really call her teenage fumblings dates, for the most part. It had felt like the first time, and she’d been giddy all day with nerves, right up until the moment she opened the door to see him in modern clothes, smiling and presenting her with a single red rose.

She feels giddy now, too, but it’s not with nerves anymore - Emma tries to answer Killian, to meet his request with as eager a response as he met hers this morning, but something about the warmth of his hands in her own, how his voice went quiet, the way he’s looking at her, has her words lost in her throat and all she can do is move her lips silently. After a few moments of this Killian starts to smile, and Emma finds her eyes lingering on his lips, and she’s smiling too, and leaning forward because of course, she’s always preferred show over tell.

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“Malia is going to be your new favorite! (Even if you don’t know it yet!)”

“You should like Malia just because it means more ladies!’

"It’s not her fault she’s poorly written.”

?????

“YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE MALIA!”

“SHE’S THE TOUGHEST MOST BADASS CUTEST-”

He’s been pacing for minutes, or maybe hours, feet stomping on the metallic floor of the Ark, echoing through the entire building. Octavia winces every time he turns around and starts walking again, winces and notices how white his knuckles are – she’s pretty sure he would draw blood on the palms of his hands if it wasn’t for the fact he’s been biting his nails since he was ten.

She understand his state of mind, she really does – they were kicked out of the Council room before they even step foot into it, and now all they can do is wait until the adults come to a decision. A decision Bellamy will probably not approve, because he’s Bellamy and because the adults are morons. (What else is new?)

Still, even if she expected him to be… disturbed by the latest events, she would have never imagined him getting so worked-up over it.

But it’s Clarke. So.

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Scenes from the obligatory Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU

Oliver and Felicity are married and they are spies. Except they don’t know it! Oliver and his team (Saraaaaaa and Tommy) are out on some mission and they run into an oddly familiar hacker and the wisecracking muscle who helps her. It’s a standoff, until some tech glitch happens and she escapes.

The hacker is Felicity who recognizes her husband because 1) she is not dumb, she has seen you naked, Oliver, and 2) even if it had been dark, that little thing where he rubs his fingertips together—she knows how he moves. To be fair: she knew all of the real stuff about him—where he grew up, his favorite color, all of his passwords—she just never knew what he did for a living. (“I’ll level with you,” she says, later. “Whenever I hear the term ’CEO,’ I get so bored I just kind of stop listening.”)

SO. Obviously there are some problems, but they discover and unite in order to take down a common enemy: Malcolm Merlyn, who is a threat to every single agency.

“You know, everything about you just became incredibly clear,” Felicity says.

“I cannot believe the two of you,” Diggle interjects. He still has Oliver in a chokehold. “I did not sign up for this. Felicity, you should just have let me kill him.”

“Relax,” she says. “Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can find his records and see what he’s been up to. I probably could have sooner,” she admits, earnest as always. Oliver is a little gratified to discover that that isn’t an act. “Before I was even entitled to half of your worldly goods. But you were so cute, and so terrible at remembering the answers to you own online banking account, I just didn’t think there was much there.”

Meanwhile, Oliver’s team thinks this is hilarious:

“I always knew your wife was too good for you, Ollie,” Sara says. “Now we just have proof.”

“She’s been lying to me this entire time!”

“Uh,” Tommy says. “Pretty sure you don’t have the moral high ground on this one.”

“I can’t believe I brought my actual family to our wedding,” Oliver says.

“It’s kind of cute,” Felicity says, leaning past him to flip a breaker. “I mean, it’s dumb, but I’m flattered. My parents are…as good as dead, I just hired an actor to give me away.”

“I thought I’d seen your mom on Lifetime!”

“I cannot even believe that you watch that channel,” Felicity says. “Like, how is that one of the things that isn’t part of your cover?”

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“What do you mean, you’re not a field agent,” Oliver says, breaking one of their good plates and using the shards as the worst throwing knives in the history of projectile weapons.

“Computers! I’m good with computers!” She ducks a return volley and wedges herself behind him.

“But—“

“Oliver, this is the same thing I’ve been saying for years, you never focus on the point of the argument! Years of you missing the point!” She ducks out from behind him and throws a drinking glass across the room; it hits one of the snipers across the hands. Oliver is pretty sure it breaks the guy’s finger.

 

the vocabulary of such pain

Summary: Killian and Emma cope.

a/n: Spoilers for 3x15 ‘Quiet Minds’

AO3  FFN

First there is cold, and he has to help move the body.

Emma left it with Rumpelstiltskin when she went to confront the witch, but then three hours pass and there is still no sign of the Dark One. He hasn’t been seen in town, has made no effort to contact Belle – so, while the others continue to scour Storybrooke for any trace of Zelena, Killian and David go out to the woods to search.

Bae is lying where Emma left him; on his back, still and cold and white. If Killian were feeling poetic, he might have said that the man looks like he is sleeping.

But he is not feeling poetic and Baelfire is not asleep.

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title: what does home look like? (I’ve only seen shadows of it in my dreams)
category: arrow
genre: family/romance
ship: felicity/oliver
chapter rating: pg-13/teen
overall rating: nc-17/explicit
prompt: ooh ooh felicity as lance’s step-daughter, growing up with laurel and sara, in love with oliver! - anonymous
word count: 6,470
summary: (au) For most of her life, Felicity Smoak grew up with her father in Coast City, only visiting her mother Dinah and the Lance family in the summers. But when her father drops her off for an unexpected visit and doesn’t come back, Felicity is forced to figure out what ‘family’ really means. And, in the meantime, falling in love with the local billionaire can’t hurt, right?

previouschapter onechapter two,

preview:

“I think you might be the worst bowler I’ve ever seen in my life,” Oliver told her, leaning back against the plastic bench, his arms spread over the back as she walked toward him.

“Shut up,” she muttered. “You know, I’m not usually this uncoordinated. I run track back home.”

He raised an eyebrow, a grin playing at his lips. “Yeah? With those tiny shorts.” He reached for her, his fingers teasing over her jean-clad legs.

She batted his hand away but stepped closer, until she was standing in between his knees. “Yes, with the tiny shorts. More importantly, however, I placed third last year. Which is a shining achievement. I even have a ribbon to prove it.”

“A ribbon? That sounds special.” His hands settled on her hips, tugging her forward and turning her until she landed in his lap, one of her arms looped around his neck. He stroked a hand down her back. “Tell me about it.”

She scoffed. “You really want to hear about my boring track meet where I didn’t even win first place?”

He nodded, looking up at her, seeming far more sincere than she expected. “Yeah, I wanna hear everything about it.” His fingers rubbed up and down her side. “Tell me all about Coast City.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. “Is this a fact-gathering mission? Are you learning about my home so you can prove to me that it’s better here so I won’t leave?”

He laughed, his head falling back. “Maybe.”

FFnet: ( Read more… )
AO3: ( Read more… )
LJ: ( Read more… )

never doubt I love

Lieutenant Duckling AU. In a world where soul mates do exist and are marked with the same tattoo, a boy with a hook on his wrist falls for a girl with a beating heart on her chest.

(Just your typical soul mate au, except it’s different this time.

Rated M for sexy times (though more awkward first time smut but still) and oh, a little almost 6,000 words, hope you don’t mind - long author’s note at the end.)

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It is said that back when the gods created the humans they had four arms, four legs and one head with two faces.

They were strong, so strong that the gods feared their power and decided to weaken them by splitting them in half.

They succeeded and the humans were left behind, incomplete, not really knowing what they were missing for quite some time, always searching for their other half.

They were miserable and unhappy and one of the gods finally had pity with them, forming a unique mark on their bodies that would eventually lead them to their other half.

To their soul mate.

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To grow up as the child of the soul mate couple was a burden and a relief at the same time. It meant that she was never one of those people who doubted if there even was such a thing as soul mates. But it also meant that everyone was expecting her to find her own soul mate just as spectacularly as her parents had found each other.

A charity ball, a punch in the jaw, the discovery of the blood red apple mark on her mother’s shoulder and the happily ever after of the simple working class man David Nolan and well-liked billionaire’s daughter Mary Margaret Blanchard had been set in stone.

And indeed their daughter Emma Ruth Nolan found her soul mate about a year after she was born (or, to be more exact, her soul mate found her).

His name was Graham Humbert and he was Storybrooke’s sheriff, an honest, nice man in his early twenties and one of David’s best friends.

Of course the huge age-gap between the new-born and the sheriff led to countless discussions in the small town but it was a known phenomenon that people had to wait for the birth of their soul mates and that it could take an entire life time for the perfect match to be born. It was a paradox but it was far from unheard of.

Emma grew up knowing that Graham was the one she was meant to be with, the man who had the same small heart tattoo (a real heart, not one of the drawn ones, no, it was an anatomical correct one, red and beating and it was actually really pretty) on his chest. She grew up, knowing that Graham was her soul mate.

But when she was fifteen the sheriff was had a heart attack that sadly led to his death. She hadn’t been in love with him then but he had been her friend (soul mate thing aside) and his loss hurt incredibly. Emma knew that once one soul mate died the other was bound never to find love again.

She never thought someone else could fall in love with her (or that she could fall in love with someone else, that was impossible, her soul mate was gone and there was no one else for her), so for her it was more than easy for her to become friends with guys. It was uncomplicated, there were no feelings involved and she didn’t need to worry about anything.

That was why, when she met Killian Jones she didn’t understand - or rather, didn’t want to understand (because she understood all too well, knowing that it shouldn’t be like this) - why her palms became sweaty or her heart beat quickened its pace or why her knees grew weak.

He was only her best friend, not her soul mate, she couldn’t be in love with him.

(Except she was. And she knew it.)

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thank you for 450 followers!!! 

ok first of all you guys mean so so much to me, literally all of you are so sweet, like I can’t describe how much you guys mean to me (: like thank you for putting up with my ramblings and my music shit and liking my bad selfies and putting up with my love for a certain man with the first name of bryan… like why do I even have this many followers????

I probably forgot soooo many people, I love each and every one of my followers/people I follow! 

the baes

allthepretenders: MADDAH I’VE MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH I LITERALLY CRIED WHEN I GOT YOUR MESSAGE IT’S BEEN LIKE TWO YEARS AND TBH I THOUGHT ABOUT OUR GROUP A LOT DURING THOSE YEARS LIKE I MISSED YOU AND GIA AND HANNAH SO MUCH BUT SOMEHOW WE FOUND EACH OTHER AGAIN AND IT’S SO AMAZING AND CRAZY LIKE WOW ILY AND I’M SORRY I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU IN A WHILE I’M AWFUL AT RESPONDING LIKE ALWAYS

raanta: okay mel (I’ve literally never called you that before so why am I now????) where to start… you’re like my fave person I’ve met on here, and it’s crazy how we even like figured out who we were (wow that sounds like philosophical or smth) and what’s even crazier is that we haven’t even met yet… BUT WE WILL we will find each other and party hard. okay? okay. love youuuuuu :*

raantastic: VENNI HI we haven’t talked in forever bc I’m shit at conversations :/ but we’ve been on-off talking for soooo long (remember the good ol’ days…) and you’re like one of my fave people ever and yeah we need to start talking again like rn bc ily (:

the ‘I-may-stalk-your-blog-more-than-once-a-week’ faves

alex-wennbergs / captain-karlsson / christopher-kreidickerdatsyukiancros / demdimpleskhudobin / goallagher-galchenpuck / hockeyismyreligon / ilovechicago1988 / marchand-nose-best / octoews19 / pricecrosbytoews / saadyoulittleshit / scoraceks / triathlongoddess / yanweber / young-mullet-enthusiast

the 'hey you guys are hella cool’ faves

alexxpeters / avalanchefactor / barca-penguins / bergeroff / boston-caleb / boston-strong-forever / camo–zamboni / captain-mactruckchi-town-mistress / david-booth / delaying-the-game / diaryofaphillyfan / dominic-turgeon / evgenimalkinlove / fear-the-altosfrattysofia / hatrickaner / jerryd-amigo / jordanstaalsmugshot / jordiebenns / ketneplehtsisbest / marianyossa / nik-scherbaks / ohmyfivehole / ohmysergeibobrovsky / pksubban76 / rad–as–heck / savebytalbot / shawzer65 / sparkledagger / tempe-toews / thewizardofcros87 / tuukkasass

the 'I am not worthy for you’ faves

bruins-babe / camfwler / loochskywalker / michalapratts (johnnyoduyas) / riemers 

the 'blogs that I am legitimately not worthy of’ faves

erikkarlsson65 / officialunitedstates / @stevedangle

do you know what i just realized 

because the maze was outdoors we saw all of it 

there was no second maze next door for group b

there has been absolutely no talk of group b casting 

there isn’t even any confirmation that group b is going to be a thing 

what is going on with them 

i am so upset 

i just want kick ass ladies is that too much to ask for

fanfiction.net gothic

  • you log in to check the reviews on your most recent story. 1 new review. you click on it. the only thing written is a string of strange symbols. you stare at it, but it makes no sense. but the more you stare, the more you understand, the more you know, until finally it makes perfect sense. everything makes perfect sense.
  • you finish the last posted chapter of your favorite fic and check the date it was updated to see when you might get the next one. the date reads 4-2-1778. you suppose you can forgive the author for not updating recently. after all, the revolutionary war was a busy time for us all.
  • your beta messages you. she wants you to fix a few mistakes. she wants to you to fix her mistakes. she wants you to fix her.
  • it’s time to change your profile image. you scan your files for a new one, settling on a picture that purrs when you crop it. as you import the new one, you hear your old profile pic whisper please don’t send me back.
  • you promised an update by midnight. your readers are waiting and it’s 11:30. your fingers fly over the keys. it’s 11:45. you just need to finish this page. it’s 11:52. no time to check spelling or grammar-but wait a second. you look at the clock. it’s been 3 am all along. all the keys on your keyboard are spiders. they skitter away.