Monster Falls Billdip! :’D Because I’m somehow in love with this AU (also writing on my fanfic heheh) and ahh love them >u<! Gotta write on the next chapter now ^-^

anonymous asked:

this isnt really prinxiety but i just read you previous story about anxiety getting yelled at by prince and loved the idea of morality, logic, and prince all helping him through an anxiety or panic attack. could you write something like that if youre not too busy? thanks love your writing

Alright, I just want to let you know that the story you’re referring to was actually written by @prinxietys , not me. But. I shall try to write with a comparable amount of skill. (I mean, c'mon, @prinxietys is so talented it’s crazy, so don’t judge me too harshly)

So here’s what you asked for (but I wrote this one):

Breathe in. Breath out. That was about all Anxiety could manage at the moment. Focus on the feeling of breathing in and out. He could get through this.
And then he heard their voices. His mind started racing faster and it felt like he couldn’t fill his lungs with enough air. And he couldn’t focus anymore.

They couldn’t see him like this. The shaking. The dizziness. The pressure in his chest. He felt like he might cry.
He couldn’t act normal like this wasn’t happening. And they were headed right towards his hiding spot.

“Anxiety? Are you in there?” Morality asked, knocking on the door. Anxiety knew Morality could hear his labored breathing, and knew he was in there.
“Go away.” Anxiety was able to spit out.
“Anxiety, are you okay?” Morality spoke softly, like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“Go away.” Anxiety said again.
“Logic, Prince! I found him!” Morality called to the others throughout the house. Anxiety stayed quiet, trying to slow down his frantic breathing.
“What are you doing in there, Anxiety?” Prince asked outside the door. When had he gotten there? Anxiety was sure he would have heard the footsteps.

“Anxiety. You are going to come out here.” Logic said through the door.
“No!” Anxiety whimpered. They couldn’t see him in this state.

Very slowly the door cracked open. And the silhouette of Prince blocked the lighting.
“Do you trust me?” He slowly reached out his hand. Anxiety looked at him unsure, he could still feel his own hand shaking in his lap and his heart beat was too fast.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” A clasped hand and a gentle tug, brought Anxiety out of the room and into the living room.

Prince led him over to the couch, while Morality brought in a steaming cup of tea. The warmth from the cup seeped into Anxiety’s body, making him hold it tighter.
“Now Anxiety, I want you to try to relax. I promise there is nothing to be afraid of.” Anxiety looked at Logic dumbfounded.
“Trust him.” Prince said, “And relax.”

“Okay. That’s good.” Logic said as Anxiety visibly relaxed, even though his body was still shaking.
“Now, breathe in and out with me. In…out…in…out…” Logic continued.

Anxiety could feel his heart beat start to slow down. As he breathed and relaxed. And remembered he did have friends here. Morality stood by the wall, waiting with a blanket for when Anxiety had calmed down. Prince sat beside him on the couch, letting him know he wasn’t alone. And Logic stood in front of him, coaching him through the attack.
He wasn’t alone. And his friends weren’t going to let him go through this alone.

I feel like Dubcon is a complicated thing. The person either says “yes” or “no”. There is no “maybe” - “maybe” is the same as “no” until the person says “yes”. So why the hell is Dubcon even a thing; isn’t every Dubcon fic a Noncon fic? Shouldn’t every fic in which person A says “yes” be tagged as consenusal and every fic in which person A doesn’t say “yes” be tagged as noncon?

Still Caring

Request: Coffee date

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff, Canon Divergence, Missing Scene

Timeline: Post 5B

Needless to say, Stiles always wondered what it was about Lydia that made him like her so much. He often thought it was the way she looked - even a blind man would know she was exceptionally beautiful. Sometimes, he thought it was more of how she acted than how she looked - as if she owned the world. Sure, he thought, if she put her mind on it, he didn’t doubt she could do it. She knew her attributes, strengths and weaknesses and she knew how to use them to her own advantage.

Lately, though, with everything they’ve been through together and he realized that it most definitely wasn’t just her looks he was attracted to, he started wondering it there was something else. He’d always known that she wasn’t just this shallow go-getter, yet kept her emotional and empathetic side buried deep within, scared to show it.

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Originally posted by wentzacion

You were joining Twenty One Pilots on their Emotional Roadshow and while you watched from backstage, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Josh. He had finally became your boyfriend about 3 years ago after being best friends for ages. You obviously couldn’t replace Tyler, but you knew you held a very special place in his heart. Your thoughts began to wander back to when you and Josh were teenagers in high school together. 

Your belly was hurting from laughter due to a corny joke that Josh had just told you. He smiled, happy that he could bring so much joy to your life. It was after school and you and Josh were walking home together. You had a huge crush on him but knew he was way out of your league. You felt lucky enough to at least be a friend to him. As you were passing a music store, Josh stopped to gawk at gorgeous drum set displayed in the window. You noticed his eyes light up and a smirk grow on his face. “You like it?” You asked and all he could do is sigh in return. “What’s up, Josh?” Slight concern in your voice. “It’s nothing.” You didn’t believe him one bit. “Joshua. Please tell me.” You put your hand on his arm, causing him to look over at you. “I dream about one day playing a beauty like this on a stage in front of thousands. Knowing my music can bring them joy, would mean the world to me. I’m just not sure it’d ever happen.” “Hey, Josh, you gotta believe in yourself. We’re only teenagers, there’s plenty of time for that dream to come true.” He smiled and lightly nodded at you. “You’re a great friend, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You were snapped out of it by Josh running up to hug you. “Baby, it was amazing. So many cheers and screams. My adrenaline’s rushing so fast.” He chuckled, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Dreams really do come true.” You whispered to yourself as you walked with Josh back to his dressing room.

“What have you, Jane?”

(Sorry. Little inside joke there.)

I’m about 20,000 words into a story I have no idea who will read. LOL! It’s my AU of Jane and Maura in the Old West, crossed over with William Murdoch and Julia Ogden of ‘Murdoch Mysteries’. I think this might appeal to an audience of 3 people, with my wife being one of the 3. It has no title yet (I generally don’t come up with one until I’m finished), but I thought I’d post the first chapter for fun.

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New Idea: fandom book club

We could read longform, complete fanfics and come together once a month over skype and talk about the ‘book’. Or we could do shorter ones once a week or so. Or some combination of the two. There are so many good fanfics out there, in so many different fandoms, and I, for one, love reading a good fic no matter what fandom it originated in. 

We could even record the book club meetings and post them somewhere as a podcast, which would be an awesome way to give fic writers feedback and publicity! If we did that, we would have to ask permission to use a fic in the book club, but I’m sure that wouldn’t be too hard. 

If this is something you’re interested in, let me know! 

I’m not entirely sure how to tag this.

“Writing’s on the Wall”

When I drew up this piece of art:

I mentioned that I had no idea what the circumstances behind it were. After thinking about it for a bit, I came up with some.

The title comes from the song from Spectre. I originally planned to do another songfic, a la “I’m Not That Girl,” but since the lyrics only relate to the plot in the broadest sense possible, and since this ended up having a much lighter tone to it than the music, it didn’t really work.

Big thanks to @taillow-suift for sharing a headcanon about Sir Aaron and a mermaid that informed a main pillar of the plot.

To get the timeline straight: everything from the anime happened except that they age, one year per region, Battle Frontier counts as a region, and Ash never goes to Alola. This being set ten months after the end of XY/Z, that makes Ash and Misty 18 going on 19, Brock 23, May 15, and Dawn 13 (if we assume the latter two are ten when introduced.)

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Old Friends Writing


I reread the letter before me with a lump forming in my throat. However much the fellow might attempt to conceal his heart, his words make it clear that he misses me. How I long to visit him, but my practice is busy at this time of year.

I take up my pen and begin to write to tell him as much. How can I explain, when I know that he would have dropped everything for me had he received such a plea?

Dear Holmes

It is with regret that I must decline your kind offer to spend Christmas with you at your cottage.

I toss the letter upon the fire. It is much to formal - Holmes is my old friend, not a patient! I read his letter again, my eyes becoming misty.

My mind has now been made up. I shall retire, sell my practice and move in with Holmes in the New Year. It can be a little surprise for the old fellow. I smile and again take up my pen.

Dear Holmes

It is not possible for me to visit you for Christmas as my neighbour has a young family that will want him at home. It would be selfish of me to ask him to take charge of both my practice and his.

However, I shall be able to visit you in the New Year. I hope that that will lessen the disappointment for you somewhat.

I shall send word the moment that I am able to make plans.

I add the customary things - that I hope that he is well and not too bored now that winter has come and his bees are hibernating, etcetera. I then sign it before reading my letter through once more. I feel it is not fair to my dearest friend, but it truly is the best that I can do.


It is with a heavy heart that I read the letter from my dear Watson. His writing speaks of a weariness that a younger man would not have to endure and I dearly wish that he had accepted my invitation. Selfish indeed! Watson was never selfish. I am truly glad that he has promised to visit me in the New Year, though I suspect that he has only said that to placate me. Well, I shall hold him to that.

My dear Watson

I stare down at the paper before me. There is so very much that I wish to say, but I know not quite how to transfer such things to ink and paper. I run a hand across my eyes and think carefully. What do I wish to tell him?

I miss him - he should know as much by now. I also hope that he is well, for his writing does tell far more than his words express. What can I say?

My dear Watson

I understand perfectly - you always have placed your duties before yourself.

I shall look forward to seeing you in the New Year.

Oh! Hang it all! I cannot possibly wait until January to hear his voice. Besides, I know that I shan’t cease to fret until I know how he is.

I slam down my pen and instead take up the telephone. I need to hear his voice - the letter can wait until after we have spoken.

anonymous asked:

For the writing prompts thing: "Hey, hey wake up. It's time."

I’m not gonna lie.  I wish you could have seen the little dance I did when I got this.  I didn’t even have an immediate idea, I just knew this one would be great for something.  I hope you like this story as much as I liked writing it.

Peterick | R | non-graphic sex | 1200 words

Red Eye

Pete hadn’t slept.  That was generally how it went.  The nauseating butterflies in his stomach never allowed it.  But the benefit was getting to turn off the alarm and slip under the sheets, wrapping his arms around Patrick from behind and lightly kissing his neck.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured in the other boy’s ear.  "Wake up.  It’s time.“  Patrick groaned.  Mornings were not his strong suit.  Especially mornings that began at two in the morning.  ”‘Trick, c'mon.  I already made you tea.  And got you clothes.  And put the suitcases in the car.“

Patrick groaned again.  Now he had to get up or he would look like a jackass.  "Five more minutes?”  he asked hopefully.

“Come on, babe.”  Pete kisses his shoulder through the thin tee shirt he slept in.  "And I already gave you fifteen.“

There was a third groan and then Patrick threw the comforter off, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position.  "Why do we even have to take a red eye anyway?  Who is punishing me?”

“We flipped a coin and you lost.  Now come on, up.”  Red eyes were the bane of his existence too, because no Starbucks was open to give him his quad shot macchiato fix.

Patrick slowly slid to the foot of the bed, pulling off his shirt to replace it with the one Pete had laid out, trying to ignore the eyes he could feel watching him.  He stood and stripped his underwear off, pulling on cleans ones and then the worn jeans on the mattress.  "You’re so pretty,“ the older boy whispered, the awe in his voice lost on a too-tired Patrick.

“Shut up.  I have even brushed my hair.  A giant yawn seemed to split his head in two.  Pete laughed.

“Especially when you haven’t brushed your hair.  I think you should leave it like that for the plane ride.”  Patrick reached out to shove at him and Pete took the opportunity to seize his wrist, pulling him in for a kiss.

Patrick melted into him immediately, shaking off Pete’s grasp to bring his arms up around the other boy’ neck.  "Even when I have morning breath?“  he asked when they came up for air.

“Well, maybe not then,” Pete teased and that time Patrick did shove him.  They were both laughing as they stumbled down the stairs.  Patrick’s tea was sitting on the warmer and Pete pulled waffles from the freezer to give them a reasonable facsimile of a breakfast.  "Peanut butter or syrup?“

“Both.  Make me ten.”  Patrick was leaning against the counter, blowing on his tea and hiding another yawn behind his hand.

“We only have six.”

“You’re a terrible husband.”

“Yeah, but I make up for it with enthusiasm.”

“That’s fair.”  And then they were kissing again, Pete grabbing Patrick’s mug to put it on the counter and pulling him in be the neck of his shirt.  "Do we have time”  Patrick mumbled, catching the other boy off guard.  Usually it was Pete begging for the preflight morning sex (especially in the airport bathroom).

Pete glanced at the clock behind Patrick  "Yeah, we do.  Just quick, okay?“  They raced up the stairs, nearly tripping in the process, Patrick actually tripping on the last one, Pete reaching out to grab his arm.  It was a matter of seconds for the younger to have his jeans off, lying back on the bed, his legs falling open for Pete, who immediately settled between them.  There were fingers and then a mouth on his, swallowing his moans.  Almost too quickly the fingers were gone and Pete was slowly pushing in, lips trailing along Patrick’s jawline before settling on his neck.

It was the same steady tempo until Patrick murmured okay and then it was hard, fast, trying to bring them to the edge as quickly as possible because they both knew they couldn’t afford to be late (even though they almost always were, and usually for the same reason).

“Pete,” Patrick choked out, feeling that familiar drop in his stomach, so much like a roller coaster.  "Pete, please.“

"Just hold on for me, babe.  Just another minute.”

Patrick whined, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to do just that.  He felt Pete quicken, his breath coming out in sharp gasps as his swearing got more and more vulgar.  ”‘Trick,“ he managed to get out. Then they were both clinging to each other, Patrick crying out and Pete muffling his own noises in the other boy’s shoulder even though there was no one else to hear him.

They could only stay there for a moment afterward, Pete leaning down to kiss Patrick’s forehead and then his mouth.

Finally, Patrick was fully awake.  "Okay,” he said as they sat up.  "Clean clothes, tea, walk through, and then we need to clean ourselves up.“

“I wanna smell like sex with you for the whole plane ride though,” Pete insisted as they both got up and went to the closet for clean shirts.

“You already smell enough without adding that into the mix.”

“You’re so verbally abusive.”

“It’s not abuse if you get off on it, babe.”  More laughter and they were walking downstairs again, Pete going to turn off the lights in the living room and the time for the patio.  Patrick went into the kitchen to finish (or rather, start) his tea.  It was more than a little cold and he put it in the microwave before grabbing a lukewarm waffle from the toaster and taking a bite.  His eyes flicked to the clock and he almost choked.  "Pete!“ he yelled, loudly enough to potentially wake the neighbors.

The next five minutes were a blur of running and swearing, pulling on shoes and putting on deodorant.  Patrick ended up brushing his hair in the car as Pete sped down the freeway.

"We shouldn’t have fucked.”

“No, Patrick. Always say yes to sex.  We’ve been over this.”

“You told me we had time!”  The younger boy buried his face in his hands, making a frustrated growl.

“It’ll be fine.  You know we don’t actually need two hours, right?”

“Dammit, Pete.”

“Jiminy crickets, Patrick.”

And then they were both laughing again, despite the younger boy trying to keep his face stern.  Pete reached for his hand, pulling it to his lips and kissing his knuckles.  "Do you love me even when I’m a horny liar?“

Patrick snorted.  "Yes, I love you, asshole.”

They kissed one more time in the car, hot and fierce, knowing it would have to last them until they touched down in London.

No one even commented as they ran up to the gate ten minutes before the plane began boarding.  Joe gave a low whistle and Patrick gave him a quick glare, fumbling in his bag for their tickets.

“I need Starbucks,” Pete whined.

“I think you got something sweeter,” Joe quipped.  Everyone groaned collectively.

“Now boarding Section A,” a too cheerful voice said over the speaker.  The group of them stood, scanning their tickets and starting down the hallway.  Pete reached out to tug on the wrist of Patrick’s cardigan inconspicuously.

It seemed five minutes later that Pete was shaking Patrick awake.  "Hey, hey.  Wake up.  It’s time.“
Trust - Chapter 1 - KaCole - Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

This is my first foray into writing a Star Trek AOS story. Rated T.

Spock and Uhura find themselves alone and in trouble when a scientific and cultural mission goes bad. They will have to trust each other, and their relationship, in order to survive.
Lena's Long Night - jollywriter - Supergirl (TV 2015) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, mon-el mention
Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending

Lena gets drunk to cope with the pain of unreciprocated love while she tries to work through her feelings for Kara Danvers.

Crooked Chapter 6

Summary:Big Bang Mafia AU-

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5

When the members of Kwon Ji Yong’s men take up a deal with the Italian mob, they think kidnapping one young woman will be a piece of cake. But all isn’t as it seems, and soon Ji Yong is realizing that maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew…..

Disclaimer : Rated M for violence, and eventual smut.

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