anybody know the author

anonymous asked:

This is goofy but I just imagine Damien and MC hanging out in Damien's bedroom and MC is like knitting while Damien reads and Ernest is visiting Lucien and being a little shit just swings the door open and yells "YOU TWO ARE HAVING SEX" and Lucien high-key wants to both die and murder Ernest and Damien is just "MC why didn't you tell me? I would have put my book down." And I read the scenario somewhere I can't remember and it's 3am and I'm laughing.

this is really cute and funny >:3 if anybody knows the original author lmk!

Riverdale fanfic 1 - kevin & joaquin (with @fangirly-freak)

>Kevin, all well-behaved, typical suburban boy, straight a’s, and then the serpent, bad boy how theyre written, and yet theyre together and I bet, if there should be a showdown of some kind, joaquin will try to protect kevin, to keep him away from the shit hes getting being a serpent, even though he doesn’t realize hes protecting him, and also im betting that kevin wants some distance at first, but he cant keep it up for long and runs to joaquin and kisses him as if the world is ending. And that will happen in that bar where the serpents hang around, right in front of all the other men and when anybody says anything against them jugheads dad will personally beat them up because he is a good soul.<

Kevin ran faster than he ever did before, his throat burned and his legs became wobbly, threatening to give up. But Kevin didn’t pay attention to his body’s protests, the only thing on his mind was a raven-haired boy, the boy that was from another world and yet from so close, being so close to him yet being unrecognized.

Kevin took a sharp 90° turn, his shoes slid on the wet concrete but he didn’t fall and just kept running. Jughead’s words still echoed through his head. His friend asked Archie if he could sleep over a few nights, his dad having a serpent thing and didn’t want him to follow him, his ‘detective of a son shouldn’t be there for his own life’s sake’. Thankfully Archie asked when the whole ordeal would take place so Kevin hadn’t been caught eavesdropping. And thankfully Jughead trusted Archie enough to tell him.

But not so thankfully, Kevin’s dad didn’t fall asleep fast enough. The sheriff was always tired when he came home from work and usually fell asleep after dinner, but tonight he wanted to tell his son about his last case. In the end, Kevin said he had homework to do and left, only to sit on top of the stairs and wait. Soon his father’s breath slowed and the boy sneaked down, a first-aid packet and another jacket on his hands. He fingered around the holster, freeing the gun and wrapping it in jacket. Then, quietly, but still as fast as possible, he left his house and turned for the old warehouse.

Joaquin told him where this warehouse was, they used it as a place to be when they wanted to be alone. Okay, let’s be honest, when they wanted to make out without anybody interrupting them.

And while the authors described stuff so the reader knows stuff that’s important for the story, Kevin has reached said warehouse. Several motorcycles and cars stood in front of it. And men talked in it. Their voices were only hearable due to the echo in the empty building; also the men didn’t care to lower them.

Kevin knew the architecture of the house quite well, him and Joaquin going exploring when they wanted to talk or not make out [haha yeah that happens sometimes too believe it or not] and needed something else to do with their hands. Because, you know, hormones.

The old and rusty stairs at the back didn’t look trustworthy but they didn’t even move when you climbed them up right. They led to a sort of second story, but in the middle was a huge hole, enabling a good look to the ground story. Stair cases led down, but nobody bothered to climb them up, giving Kevin a perfect hiding spot.

The men stood at two fronts, the serpents on Kevin’s left, their client on his right. Joaquin was in the back, only about 50 meters away from Kevin, and fidgeted his hands behind his back. That meant he was nervous as hell.

Suddenly one of the clients screamed in rage, Kevin hasn’t noticed their voices rising until they shouted, he was too caught up in Joaquin’s facial features. A broad-necked bodyguard tried to calm the angry man, but another slipped through his arms and went to punch F. P., almost succeeding but the serpent next to their leader hit him first, sending the suit-wearer to the ground.

With that, all hell broke loose, fists hit jaws, blood dripped, bones crashed. Men went down, many of them unconscious. In the chaos, Kevin has lost Joaquin, but then something neon green caught his gaze. That neon green was a bracelet he gave his boyfriend a few weeks ago. A snake eating a heart was printed on it. Then it vanished as a very buff and muscular man blocked the view, pulled back his fist and threw it onto the boy’s stomach. Joaquin went down with a groan.

Out of desperation, Kevin reached for the gun, stood up and shot into the air. Everybody stopped in their tracks. Their faces turned towards him and twisted as they recognized him as the sheriff’s son.

“Kill him! He gonna report! Whatcha waitin’ for?!”

Thugs went for the stairs, one of them the man that just hit Joaquin, but the boy suddenly jumped up and put his arm around his neck, trying to strangle him.

“Kevin! Run!” F.P. bellowed.

Kevin followed his order and ran to the stairs that led him up there. He heard fists hitting flesh and groans, but didn’t look back. That is, until a stone hit his head making him feel dizzy and trip over his own feet.

He expected violence as he felt a body near him and tensed up, but was even more surprised as gentle hands fiddled around the gun in his hand.

“Sweetie, hey, it’s me. Gimme the gun. Get up. Run. Please, for me.”

“No, I can’t. Can’t leave ya…”

Kevin fainted.

The next thing Kevin knew is that he’s lying on the floor, some voices speaking almost out of earshot.

“Why is he here? Did you tell him?”

“What? No. I don’t know why he’s here. He isn’t supposed to.”

“And you’re not supposed to take a broken nose for him. You should spy on the sheriff, not play the knight in shining armor for his son.”

“I didn’t want to, it just happened! I just couldn’t see him getting hurt!”

At that, Kevin stirred. His movements didn’t go unnoticed, Joaquin and F.P. rushed over to him.

“Hey… Whoa, sweetie, calm down, your head must hurt like hell.” Joaquin reached up to stroke Kevin’s cheek as he began to sit up.

“You must hurt like hell, your face looks like Spaghetti Bolognese, and not in the tasty way.”

Jughead’s father chuckled. “Two seconds back and already backfiring, you got one there.”

“I got a first-aid kit, let me clean you up.”

The two boys went over to where Kevin’s jacket was and sat down next to it.  They sat in silence as Kevin got the utensils out and started to take care of Joaquin’s wounds.

“I heard you talk.”

“Huh?”

“Joa, I heard you and F.P. talking. He said you are supposed to spy on the sheriff. Is that why you are dating me?”

“Kev, I…”

“Don’t lie to me. I want the naked truth, without excuses. Without consideration of my feelings or whatever. Just tell me.”

The young serpent sighed.

“Yeah, I mean, I… I am supposed to play your boyfriend to spy on your dad. But so much has happened since then, and F.P. still wants information needed for clients and jobs, but I… We can get information otherwise, I am… I’m confused, you know? Because you are so good and kind and I am a no-good, usele…”

Before the boy could finish, Kevin presses a piece of bandage drenched with pure alcohol into an open cut.

“Go to the hospital, that needs stitches. I can’t do that. I’m going home. And tell F.P. to go fuck himself.”

Kevin’s voice sounded so cold. The room temperature seemed to drop 15°C

“Sweetie, what…”

“Don’t call me sweetie! That’s a name a lover should use, not a spy!”

Joaquin flinched as the other boy spat those words. He tried to reach for his hand, but Kevin withdrew his hand, grabbed his things as he stood up and left quickly without another word.

 

The next three weeks were hard for both of them. Kevin couldn’t concentrate at all, which had effects on his grades, his friends were worrying, but he didn’t tell them why he didn’t eat as much, sleep as much or even talk as much as he used to or why Joaquin wasn’t with him all the time like he used to, and seeing from Jughead’s behavior, his dad didn’t tell him. Kevin felt emotionally used, he wanted to hate his (former?) boyfriend, but couldn’t help to reach for his hip, where his hand had lied or almost call him, his thumb seemed to be frozen into spot right above the call button.

Joaquin wasn’t much better. He, too, didn’t watch his health and lied on his bed when F.P. didn’t need him to do whatever needed to be done. He didn’t know why exactly he behaved like this. He just had no clue what to do. Or what is body was doing while his mind wandered off. He caught his hand several times as it creeped over his mattress, looking for something, that wasn’t there. He didn’t charge his phone, afraid to get weak and call Kevin, even though the boy has made clear that he was angry with him.

Both boys vegetated through their lives, but Kevin had more people to look out for him. He didn’t lose as much weight as Joaquin. And people tried to talk to him about what happened. Joaquin had no one to talk to except for his cactus.

                        This led to Kevin’s breakdown as he sat with his friends in Pop’s diner. Veronica showed them her new haircut, it was about the length Joaquin’s hair had been when Kevin had last seen him. Veronica’s was a more female version though. Just as she turned around to show Betty how she had to straighten them, Kevin looked up from his now cold coffee. She looked so much like Joaquin mas he had shown him a tattoo on his neck.

Kevin let out a sob. Then another. Then he let out a ragged breath, murmured something about fresh air and stumbled out of the diner to the parking lots. As soon as he felt like there was enough distance between him and the diner to not be seen instantly, he vomited. But there wasn’t much to vomit, so he just gagged around air, his throat burned and his head felt way too light. He stumbled from the car he used for balance towards the diner. Someone was coming out, but Kevin didn’t recognize them before he fell face down on the ground.

Another voice, somehow common to him, called his name. The boy opened his eyes to see dark hair at shoulder length.

“Joa?” he asked with a raspy voice before wincing. His throat felt like he swallowed sour rain.

“No, I’m sorry. But Kevin, you got to get up. You got to drink. Archie’s calling your dad. We thought you were dying here.” Veronica let out a forced laugh. “And I can’t let you die on my favorite dress, can I?”

Betty came and kneeled next to him. She held a glass of water to his lips and he drank greedily. Pop came out too and handed the blonde an extra-large milk shake.

“He gonna need that. Saw his orders last few weeks. He needs the protein and sugar and whatnot.”

Kevin also drank the shake, though slower than the water, enjoying the sweet taste in contrast to the acid burn he felt before.

Just as he finished and properly sat up without help, his father’s car pulled into the parking lot. As soon as the car stood, the sheriff ran to him and kneeled down.

“Son? Son, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“None, dad, your hands are crashing my shoulders. I’m okay now. I’m just tired.”

His dad stood up, pulling him onto his feet and led him to the car after thanking Pop and Kevin’s friends for helping him. Pop declined the money he offered him.

When they came home, the sheriff made his son eat and take a bath before letting him sleep.

Kevin slept until 3:40pm, having his first halfway decent sleep in weeks. He hadn’t notice how much this kind-of break up was draining him.

As he got up, he thought of what to do next. He couldn’t continue like this. He missed the warmth of Joaquin right next to him. He missed the way his kisses felt. He missed shoving his hands into the long hair when they kiss. He missed the smell of leather, hair gel and Joaquin. Even his room still smelt a bit like him, even though he hadn’t been there in a month or so.

At 5pm, Kevin was completely dressed, half a pizza was eliminated and a note was left for his dad. He had made his mind up.

Joaquin had just finished his last job, paying a drug dealer, and now sat at the bar and sipped at some drink he didn’t even know the name of.

He thought of nothing specific as someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around and saw Kevin. Right in front of him.

“Wha…” he began but was interrupted as Kevin slapped him.

“That”, the brown haired boy said, ”was for using me! And that”, a slap on the other cheek, “was for not telling me!”

Then he brought up both his hands and gently laid them on his jaw.

“And that is for being you.”

Kevin kissed Joaquin with all he had, with all the pain and nothingness he had felt throughout the last weeks, with all the love he felt for the boy, with all the missing he had endured. And Joaquin kissed him back with as much emotion as him.

As they parted, both breathing heavy, they mustered each other, noticing the way both had lost weight and gained shadows under their eyes.

“I love you. I’m sorry we became a couple due to my wrong intentions, but I’m happy we did. I adore you so damn much. You are my pretty boy, my sweetie. And I doubt that’s gonna change in the near future.”

“You know, that’s so cheesy, if we would be closer to the heater, we would melt.”
Both boys giggled before missing again.

“And by the way, I love you too.” Kevin mumbled with their lips touching. And kissed him. Which felt better than their first kiss. Better than the making out sessions. Better than the last kiss. But not as good as their next kiss. Because the kiss that is just happening will always be the best kiss. Because, well, because it’s happening.

 

~some extra F.P.-is-super-and-a-good-man-in-the-end-stuff but this isn’t necessarily part of the story~

A few days after the great becoming-a-couple-again action, Kevin came into the bar after school to pick up Joaquin for the movies. He stepped into the building and looked out for his boyfriend as someone shoved him.

“Oi, fag, stop blocking the way. You not allowed in here!”

Kevin wanted to apologize, but a familiar raven haired boy stepped to his side and slid his arm around his waist.

“Stop bothering my boyfriend, would ya?”

“Ya can’t tell me what to do! You little shit think you’re bette…”

“That’s enough!” F.P. walked down the stairs and towards them.

“Pete, if you got a problem with homosexuality, that’s okay. But it is not okay to treat someone as less worthy or disrespectful because of it! Y’all! I know some of you looked at them with disgust, but this is love! And I don’t care what’s your reason for being a homophobic little bitch, and as long as you don’t hurt them because of it, I will not care! But if you even think about it, I will give you what you deserve! And I don’t care if any of you will hate me for it, I will protect them! And if you have a problem with them kissing, tell me, not them! Let them live their lives!”

With that, he shushed the two boys out, mumbling something about late for date. Before he can close the door though, Joaquin wraps his arms around his neck, murmuring “you’re the best dad I could wish for.” before grabbing Kevin’s hand and dragging him towards the cinema.

anonymous asked:

I want to recommend AliLikesStories on ao3 to you and all your followers! He writes the cutest yoonmin stories with the right amount of angst and fluff! And he writes Yoongi as a cute little fluff ball because that's what he is xd I feel weird for "promoting" him like this lmao but he deserves all the love and I just love his stories so much dkskskdkkd

!!! i’ve actually recommended him as one of my favourite authors before shsjjsjdkdj so for anybody who doesn’t know him check out AliLikesStories on ao3 !!

Damn it, Nappa. 

Er, Raditz. 

Er, just damn it. 

Everybody’s favorite saiyans (actually not at all everybody’s, but mine at least). Tried out something new color wise. It’s better than nothing, right? I haven’t decided yet. Also, I cannot draw snow to save my life. 

Situation inspired by Ch 7 of Dragonball Honeymoon. Wish I could get in contact with the author. I’ve tried PMing and emailing but to no avail. :\ So if anybody knows said author, OR IS SAID AUTHOR, poking them for me would be much appreciated. :’)

But I’m ready to move on from this drawing.

anonymous asked:

“What is the name of the Camren fic where their in hogwarts and Camila tutors Lauren”. sounds like 'infatuation'

“right author of Not just one night wer u at we’ve all been waiting my friend ”

“Is there any fic here where in camila is a doctor? ”

“Does any of you remember the name of the fic where Lauren was a basketball player and popular, Camila a cheerleader with super-conservative parents? ”

“Will the writer of infatuation ever update or is the story Abandoned? ”

“HOLY SHIT IS THAT THE END OF LOVE WILL REMEMBER? I NEED MORE”

“Does anybody know what happened to the author of "She Don’t Like The Lights”?? Was the fic discontinued because that the BEST Norminah Fic I’ve ever read and I might cry because it isn’t finished…“

For Auld Lang Syne, My Dear

All right, @tinkbooklover @letscallitslytherclaw @abigailkanes @shefollowedfires, I GOT YOU BABIES

IT’S A NEW YEARS-THEMED SEQUEL TO THE WOMAN THAT FELL FROM THE SKY

CONTENTS:

  • Pure G-rated sugar-coated holiday fluff
  • New Year’s romance galore
  • Rock star celebrity cameos
  • Abby’s small town being adorable
  • Jake!Feels
  • New York
  • Raven’s career taking off into the stratosphere
  • Baby Blakes
  • Lots and lots of snow

YOU’RE WELCOME MY FRIENDS

Keep reading

Does anybody knows who’s the author of this sculpture and where it is? Because I can’t find any trustable resource, some places says it’s on Louvre other that it’s in Chastworth House and some in the Istanbul Museum, but I didn’t find anything on the sites of any of that museums, so if someone has seen it or has any clue please please please tell me!

So, we watched a pretty intense Star Trek episode last night, “The Mind’s Eye”, in which Geordi is kidnapped and psychologically tortured by Romulans, in order to turn him into a sleeper agent who will assassinate a Klingon government official.

What’s interesting about this plotline is the fact that, when the crew of the Enterprise begins to suspect they have a spy/saboteur onboard, it’s Geordi himself who is tasked with leading the investigation. (And, of course, he has no idea that he’s the one doing the sabotaging.)

They keep narrowing down the possible culprits to Geordi and some other small number of people, and then everybody including Geordi himself simply writes off the possibility that he’s the one responsible. Nobody even makes a joke about it, it’s just treated as an OBVIOUS glitch in the search mechanism that it considers Geordi as a possibility — presumably because he’s the one leading the search.

I’ve often used the concept of “sleeper agents” to talk about the way we’re raised to unconsciously perpetuate oppression culture. That part of the problem with believing that we’re not part of the problem is that we very well might BE not part of the problem until things get particularly hairy — and then something unexpectedly triggers us to be misogynistic or racist or abusive or whatever, because we hadn’t done the work to defuse that trigger prior (or even know that it existed.)

I thought it was salient, in this episode, that Geordi actually is doing the work to try and root out the saboteur, but isn’t able to do so because he can’t imagine himself as the problem, and neither can anybody else. This maps, in my mind, to the idea that many of us — even those of us who are actively trying to lead a search for the problematic elements within our own systems (ourselves) might have blind spots that make it impossible for us to consider that a particular belief or behavior might be harmful, dangerous, problematic, abusive, whatever.

This is why I don’t buy arguments from “ethical” authority figures who claim they’ve “done the work” to know their authority isn’t hurting anybody. Even putting aside the anarchic argument that the existence of authority by nature does harm, it just simply sounds ludicrous enough to me when someone claims they know their own subconscious mind well enough to KNOW that they can’t be triggered by the system and used as a tool of oppression. Hence why I’m particularly in support of people who tend to be highly resourced and empowered by the system (and thus more likely to be victims of systemic brainwashing) not being handed weapons — whether that weapon be a gun or a whip.

Incidentally, it’s Data — the computer — who ultimately figures out that Geordi is the spy. Presumably because he’s able to look clearly at the evidence for what is going on, without being distracted by personal feelings or social short-cut heuristics about who possible spies are. And I also like the fact that his response, upon discovering this, is not to blame Geordi for being the assassin, but rather to realize he must prevent Geordi from doing the harmful thing for Geordi’s sake, most of all. Whereas others might’ve been resistant to blame Geordi because they don’t want to feel bad feelings about him, Data doesn’t need to feel bad feelings about Geordi to notice that he’s been programmed to do a harmful thing, and to rescue him from doing said harmful thing before it’s too late.

That’s kind of a rolequeer moment right there. Framing it not as preventing person from doing something bad; but rather framing it as rescuing a person from acting out abuse they were unconsciously programmed to act out.

— 

Unquietpirate

(Reposting a conservation I had with unquietpirate with permission to do so)

See also:

anonymous asked:

I remember them saying something about 6 black witnesses backing Wilson's story but I see no information about them in the police report. Have you or anybody you know?

Is it possible you’re thinking of this?

anonymous asked:

Imagine Marinette finding a Ladybug fanart/fanfiction site, and finding it has a huge number of fics shipping her with Adrien. (He, of course, is the author of 98% of them--not that anybody knows)

she would be like WHO THE HELL WOULD WRITE THAT and then read all of them