anyway my muse was back


Okay maybe not totally 100% back, but I’m slowly working through old drafts and I have every intention of writing up replies for the ones I want to continue. It’s been a long time, so be patient. It may take time for me to get back into Laurelin’s character. However, feel free to send some starters my way! I’ll be throwing some stuff in the queue so I should be getting back to posting soon. Drafts will be posted immediately after they are all completed.

…that’s what makes a Trancy butler…


I haven’t forgotten about these two and I never will. They are goals. They are my muse. 

Anyway, I found this song a while back and immediately thought of them. I had to let out some feelings one way or another so this happened. Guys, I sunk with this ship and am in way deep but I don’t want to get out. 

song: Major Lazer - Be Together (feat. Wild Belle) (Vanic Remix)

                  I’m going straight to the head of SHIELD and I’m going to fight them.

Riverdale spoilers

Remember when they thought Jughead killed Jason too.  There is no way FP killed Jason. He was framed with that gun. That’s too easy to make  him the killer. And like I said last time he had Jason’s jacket for another purpose. He told Kevin’s boyfriend they could use it as collateral if the cops came asking questions. If he was involved in Jason’s death he wouldn’t give the cops his jacket  which is evidence against him. He would be trying not to be caught by the cops. Think about this. There’s something else going on here. Someone thinks he’s under cover. I love that theory. I love  the idea of FP being an undercover cop posing as a leader of the serpents. I hope this one comes true. It’s not likely but i totally want a verse now with FP using this theory. I plan to add him to my muses.

But anyways back to the point of this post.  The creator of the show in an interview pointed out from here on out the kids will be trying to prove FP’s innocent. That they all yes ALL think he was framed. While the adults don’t. He was also asked about the gun found  that lead to FP’s arrest. That it looked exactly like the gun Ms. Grundy had. The creator said remember that gun was last seen with Betty’s mom. She had it after finding it in Betty’s drawer. And he also said that’s not the last of that gun. He said pay very attention to that gun. It’s very important.

This leads me to believe FP was framed.  It also leads me to believe it was placed in Grundy’s car. I think whoever did this is trying to frame as many people as they can. Grundy can’t be framed anymore. She left town. FP is a serpent and “criminal.” he’s the perfect scapegoat because no adult will believe a man like that is innocent. Plus the creator of the show said the killer won’t be revealed until later. So this is obviously not a reveal. It’s a someone gets set up and there’s a race against the clock to find the real killer moment. And before you say what if it’s a nod to Scream. He’s billy loomis omg. He has to be the killer. Uh no. That’s too easy too. They’re not going to do that. It’s not scream. It’s a totally different story.

‘A One Time Thing’ mini fic. Post epilogue. (Because of course Killian would coach a kid’s hockey team. Of course.) 

So this fic comes from ohmyohpioneer messaging me about seeing tiny tots playing hockey, and then it just spiraled out of control and this happened. 

So, you know. Enjoy.


It’s far from surprising when Aidan announces that he’s going to play hockey this year. 

(Because, naturally, he announces it, rather than asks.) 

He’s grown up being carted off to Killian’s games, and Henry’s; and while the men in his life get together to watch sports in general, as Killian, David, and Robin play hockey together, naturally that’s the one they’re most enthused about. 

Aidan’s also a very physical child, so it figures he’d choose a sport like hockey, as opposed to, say, golf. 

In another completely unsurprising turn of events, it is Killian who worries about it. 

“What if he gets hurt?” 

Emma rolls her eyes. 

“You play hockey. Henry plays hockey. He’s not made of glass.” 

(And while it is true—and while it is also true that Aidan is hardly a delicate flower, always wanting to roughhouse and wrestle, forever running at things and jumping off things—still, Killian worries.) 

“He’ll be fine, Killian.” 

“Of course he will,” he says after a moment. “Because I’ll be coaching.” 

Keep reading

​I love coming back from hiatus to see people stealing my musings.

Yeah so anyway, I’m kinda back. My final exam is soon (26th May) then I can actually be on here more than once in a blue moon. But at the moment things are busy *cue sad ‘awww’* so I’m here like once a week for about an hour lmao

Also my 20th birthday is soon, who bought me presents? ;)

I got kinda hooked on the Green Lantern Animated Series (I’m so sad it was cancelled) and decided to draw Omni as a White Lantern, cause you know, Life.

(I considered Purple cause love but eh white fits more)

Anyway, trying to get my muse back so, hold tight. ;)

Tree House



I always was a dependent person. I always needed someone to fall back on, even if I was hurt by someone else or not. That’s just who I am.

Michael always was the one I fell back on. He was there, it seemed to be, 24/7. Even when he started touring.

No matter where Michael was, he’d reply to my text or phone call almost immediately. That’s just the way Michael is.

Now, I’m not saying that I force him to do any of that for me. It’s more like he forces me to call or text him when I’m not feeling my best, which is a lot more often than I’d like to admit.

We grew up with each other. Him living next door seemed like a safe haven. Michael understands me inside and out, and somehow it seems like he understands me better than I do.

I’m not gonna lie, him being there for me all the time made my emotions get so caught and confused. Our closeness made me slowly develop feelings for him at the age of fourteen. I never stopped liking him after that, but I tried pushing it to the back of my mind to salvage our friendship. Then again, I was never good at hiding my feelings

Growing up, I seemed to be a bit on the wimpier side. I cried a lot. I threw hissy fits like a second nature and I could never bag a friend for longer than a whole school year, Michael being the only exception. But I always supposed it was because he, too, had no other friends and I lived next door, proving for a harder chance of ignoring me.

I was scared when he first introduced me to Calum. I was his only friend for the longest time and him having someone else as a back up plan intimidated me. But I was relieved when the seven p.m phone calls and the two a.m chats in our little tree house never ceased.

I thought for sure he’d abandon me by the time he introduced me to Luke. All I could remember was a voice in my head saying ‘you’re a goner’ and the tightness in my throat when I tried to answer Luke’s question of “how long have you and Michael been friends?”

Again, I was wrong when the twelve p.m drives to the boba place downtown and the serenading in our little tree house seemed to occur more often than before.

I never stopped doubting Michael after that, but my faithfulness seemed to fade when their band kick started. I was so sure the six p.m ‘hey, come over, we have a new song we want to show you’ texts and the ‘you’re going to our show tonight, right?’s would start to vanish.

I always thought he’d get tired of me; tired of my outbursts and tired of my insecurities. I was always faithful to my best friend, but I wasn’t so sure he’d stay faithful for me. That the eight a.m guitar strumming coming from our treehouse would turn into an empty tune of the birds’ songs or the random ‘I just wanted to let you know I love you so fucking much’ texts would just fall into dead silence.

But even nineteen years later, he and I were still the best of friends.

I just can’t but keep thinking ‘I’m holding him back’ and ‘his career will not come to its true potential if he’s stopping band practice to go to my house while I’m having a panic attack.’ He never seemed to mind, though. Not even the boys.

‘He’s only pretending. He’s got another female friend waiting for him in a different city and everything will change. He’ll forget about me during this tour, he just will.’

It seemed to take over me. My anxiety always ate me up, proving for stress head aches and power naps when I stayed up all night in the tree house just thinking ‘how can anyone stick around for the mess that is me?’

Again, it was one of those days. Every day seemed to be one of those days.

I sat, curled up in the same corner I would be in when I wasn’t okay. My body trembled against the wood of the tree house as I tried to mute my cries.

I was so positive that Michael would be caught up in band practice with the boys or out meeting fans downtown. I was proven wrong.

“Hey - oh shit, Y/N, what’s going on?” Michael asked after he climbed up the stepladder, managing to do so quietly and unnoticed by me. His eyes were already full of concern as he approached me.

I shrug, “Life, I guess. You’re leaving me soon and you know how I get and it’s just too much right now, you know?” My voice cracked, but I could care less. This boy has been in the washroom with me when I was pooping, so why would I?

“Aw, Princess.” Michael cooed, sitting down beside me. He always had a habit of calling me Princess after that one time I dressed up as Mulan once for Halloween when we were twelve. I did it as a statement; how Mulan saved everyone and didn’t wait for someone to save her.

“Michael, Mulan wasn’t born or married into royalty. She’s only a part of the Disney Princess Franchise.”

“That still makes her a Princess, right? And since you’re dressed up as her, it makes you a Princess too.” I thought it was cute how he came up with that nickname for me. I called him Mickey or Mimi in return.

“Why’re you so worried? You know you’re my number one; my top priority.”

“Uhm, I don’t know. It’s just not so fun to know that you’re not gonna be next door for months, not to mention how you hardly have any time off.” I laugh dryly. God, I sound so needy right now.

“We’re only friends and I rely on you so much. It’s so ridiculous. Feelings are so fucking annoying.” I wiped at my eyes, annoyed that the tears wouldn’t stop. Michael smiled sadly at me and bumped his knee against mine.

“No, Y/N, your feelings aren’t ridiculous. They’re valid, just as much as you are. You grew up with me so it isn’t weird that you’re so used to having me around.”

“Yeah, sure. But what if you forget about me? You won’t remember me one day. You’ll be too caught up in the fame and the pictures and the haze of the shows that I hardly go to, and even when I do the’re home shows. I’m too distracting. I’m always texting you when I’m sad and you clear your schedule every time just so you could talk to me. That’s not a healthy relationship. You even stopped a few concerts just so you could call me and make sure I was okay! I don’t know why you even put up with me. I’m probably the most annoying person I know.”

“Y/N! Are you serious? I choose to clear my schedule for you, even if I’m immensely busy. I choose to, it’s not like you’re forcing me. I’m not obligated to do anything for you, I do it anyway. You’re not holding me back. You’re my muse. Without you, it’s hard for me to write songs or even perform.” Michael said.

“I’m your muse?” I sniffed out. Michael has never disclosed this information with me, not even when the band started.

“Yeah. I know it’s kinda weird because we’re friends and a muse is usually someone you’re dating, but you just give me the inspiration I need. That’s why I always tell you to text me all the random thoughts you have and that’s why I make sure to text you everyday. It fuels my thoughts for song writing. You’re my muse.” He murmured.

“I’m not worth making a song over.” I whisper back in reply.

“To me, you’re worth everything.”

“You’re just saying that. You’re pitying me, I can see it in the look in your eyes.” I was so tired of the looks. I had them memorized by now.

“This isn’t a ‘pity’ look. This is a ‘I love you a lot’ look. This is a ‘I have been in love for years’ look. It’s a ‘I am so fucking in love with you’ look. It’s a ‘I have stayed up for a entire nights because I am so fucking in love with you’ look.” I didn’t say anything, which seemed to build Mimi up but tear him down at the same time.

“This is so goddamn cliché but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love you so fucking much. And maybe it’s the stories getting to my head or maybe I am going insane, but I love you.”

“You can’t love me. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth the trouble.” My voice was merely casted aside by all the other sounds. The shallowness of the day and the way Michael sighed deeply right when I started speaking overpowered me.

“You’re so clueless. It’s adorable, but Princess I do love you. I talk about you like you put stars in the fucking sky. The boys know I’m so whipped for you and that’s why they let me call you, that and they care for your well being almost as much as I do.”

I drowned him out as he kept blabbering on. I was too caught up in my own thoughts.

“Y/N, Princess, I want you to breathe for me. Can you do that?” The chaotic sound of screaming seemed to add to my building anxiety and fueled my labored breathing.

“Guys, seriously please quiet down. This is an emergency call.” The screams subsided slightly and Michael sighed over the line.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. Breathe in and breathe out.” I tried doing the exercises Michael would show and watch with me, helping me do them. It took a couple minutes, but I felt my body becoming less tense and the weight on my chest seemed to slowly vanish.

“Dammit, Calum, she doesn’t want to talk to you! You either, Luke!” You heard Michael yell. A hiccup left your lips.

“Thank you, Mickey. I love you.” I couldn’t see it, but I felt like he was smiling at the nickname I said.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I love you too. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you after the show?” I feel so burdening, calling in the middle of a concert.

“Of course. I love you!”

“Love you too. Kick ass, Mimi.”

That was the first time he stopped a concert for me. That was also the first time I thought he felt a little different for me. I felt like I had hope then, that maybe our two p.m sessions of him playing guitar and showing me songs he made would turn into chaste kisses as he played a song dedicated for me. I tried convincing myself that he’d never go for me. I didn’t seem like his type. It worked, but it didn’t stop me liking him.

“ - and maybe I just love it when you call me right when you’re feeling sad. It makes me feel important because I know I’m the first person you thought to call. I just love you in general. I love you a lot, really.” It seemed like he’d been ranting for ages.

“I love you too.”

“You do?” The tiny gasp that left Michael’s lips sent you into a tiny fit of laughter.

“Yes, I do. Can we stop being so fucking cheesy now?”

“But I love being cheesy with you.” He murmured back. Michael seemed to be leaning in closer to me slowly, our proximity putting me slightly on edge.

“Can I kiss you now?” The curt nod I gave him caused a broad grin to take over his face before he actually did it.

“I love you so much.” Michael whispered quietly, as if it were the biggest secret. The kiss was tiny and gentle but it was just enough to feel. His forehead remained leaning against mine as he awaited my response.

“You’re a dork.”




marleneprincemckinnon  asked:

Imagine your OTP is pretty drunk and they’re coming home from a party. On their way out of the party, the elevator stops. Causing Person A and Person B to be alone… in a small space… with more than a little alcohol in their system. Could you please write this one? Pleaseeeeeeee? I miss you so badly it hurts! Come back!!!!! Pretty please! I love u babe ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, I am so sorry this is too late. I’ve been struggling a lot, trying to gain my muse back. Anyway, this might not be exactly as requested but still! Ann baeee, I love you too <333

Warning: it’s a bit smutty.

The entrance of the nightclub was crowded with people desperate to get in. Girls dressed to impress other girls, boys checking out those girls, some with cigarettes on their lips and others just checking their phones. The exit door bursted open and a couple got out. She had long blonde hair with a rather short black dress and an oversized leather jacket that belonged to the boy who had his arm wrapped around the her shoulders.

A few curious eyes turned on their way. They were a very attractive couple. He had grey eyes and she blue. Her hair was like sunshine and his black and looked like silk. The boy had this grunge look and his attitude was confusing. He looked like a rebel, like someone who would punch you in the face, but at the same time like a gentleman, especially with the girl. The way he looked at her was the way any girl wanted to be looked at.

She looked like a bitch, glaring at everyone who dared to stare at her or her partner. She seemed to be like the kind of girl you would stay away from in school.

However, appearances were deceptive. She wasn’t that bad, she was nice when people didn’t annoy her and she cared, a lot, so much that it hurt. Particularly about the boy who was with her.

“Why the long face, love?” The boy smirked, fully aware of the motive.

She glared at him. “Don’t be an asshole” she hissed but unconsciously leaned closer to him.

“I don’t care about them” he said sincerely.

“I don’t care” she lied.

“You always care, Mar” he smiled and leaned forward so he could kiss her cheek.

He was right. She always cared, even when she thought she didn’t. “I don’t like the way they look at you” she said simply.

The boy smirked. “Well, you have a handsome boyfriend” he teased before kissing her temple. “I try not to, but it still happens” he joked as he lead her towards their apartment.

Marlene rolled her eyes. “You are an idiot” she snorted but her lips curved into a small smile.

“A handsome idiot” he retorted before crossing the street.

Now she chuckled a bit. “Just an idiot, don’t flatter yourself Sirius, it doesn’t suit you” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

They walked in silence. The flat wasn’t too far, just a few blocks away. In spite from both coming from rather rich families, the apartment wasn’t fancy, not one bit. It was old and the power was usually out most of the time.

“Come on, let’s take the stairs” Marlene suggested as she took off her high heels.

Sirius stopped and shook her head. “No, I’m too drunk for that” he said and called the elevator.

“It’s just three floors” Marlene insisted. “Come on” she said, pulling from his shirt.

“Nope” he shook his head and opened the doors of the elevator. Sirius gestured for Marlene to get in and she obeyed reluctantly.

“I can’t believe how lazy you are”

“I’m not lazy, I’m drunk, and tired” he said, closing the door and pressing the button.

Marlene rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. She just leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. If she had to be honest, she was a bit drunk too. The elevator started going up, it passed the first floor and just when it was about to pass the second one, the lights went out and it stopped.

“Oh, come on!” Marlene groaned in annoyance. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She hissed and pressed the emergency button. The emergency lights were on and all they had to do was wait. “I can’t fucking believe this” she groaned and turned to face her boyfriend. “Ugh, I told you we should take the stairs!”

Even though Sirius did curse internally and knew that his girlfriend was right, all he could do was smirk. She was really cute when she got angry. “That’s right, love, I did it on purpose, I just wanted us to get stuck in the elevator” he commented, a hint of mocking in his tone.

“Don’t mock me, asshole, this is your fault!” She snapped, completely annoyed by the fact that he was having fun.

Sirius smirked and approached to her. “Now, come on Mar, don’t get mad… we can take advantage of this” he said innocently as he tugged a string of her hair behind her ear.

Marlene gave him a look. Was he actually suggesting to have sex in the bloody elevator? What the fuck? 

“No” she said simply and snapped his hand away.

Now it was his turn to give her a look. “Why not?”

“Because… you are an idiot” she said, not really having a good excuse but mostly because she just liked saying ‘no’ to him.

Sirius rolled his eyes but his lips curved into a playful smirk. “You just like saying ‘no’ to me, don’t you?”  He asked before placing a tender kiss on her cheek while his hand rested on her waist, his lips never abandoning her warm skin.

“I really do” she replied softly, dragging her words. Marlene became fully aware of everything: Sirius’ hand on her waist, his breath against her skin, how the light of the elevator was so dim, how, despite of the cold, it felt warm with Sirius’ so near to her.

His other hand move to the other side of her waist and his lips brushed her skin until he reached to her jawline. Sirius made a soft trail of kisses as his thumbs circled her waist softly. “May I ask why?” He whispered as his lips moved to her neck. The mixture of her perfume and scent filled his nostrils, boy, he just loved that smell.

Marlene bit her lower lip trying to repress a soft moan. She tilted her head, giving him more room to cover. “Because it’s fun” she grinned, arching her body slightly, just to press it against his.

He hummed against her neck, his teeth grazing her delicate skin. “Fun, huh?” He mumbled as one of his hands went down her hips and slithered between her legs, his fingertips barely brushing her inner thighs.

“Yes” she breathed “fun”.

Sirius made a disapproving noise as his fingers kept on going up until they reached her panties. Marlene gasped and he smirked. He felt how she pressed her hips to his hand. “Now, now… I’m torn, because you see, it would be really fun to stop now” he grinned, brushing his lips against her neck.

“That would be really rude” she gasped, as his fingers teased her entrance.

He hummed again as his finger roamed around the fabric of her knickers. “It would… but you have been really rude to me lately” he smirked.

“Stop being an asshole” she groaned, pushing her hips against his hand.

Sirius chuckled and his lips abandoned her neck. They brushed her skin until they reached the corner of her mouth. “Charming as always, McKinnon” he grinned before kissing her hungrily and finally removing the fabric of her knickers aside.

Marlene groaned and kissed him back. She wanted him. Well, to be honest, she always wanted him. He knew how to please her; he knew what she liked and how she liked it. Her heart started pounding, knowing what was going to happen next. Her body was already anticipating it. She closed her eyes but then felt a violent shake.

“Ugh, are you fucking kidding me?” She groaned, feeling how the elevator began moving again.

Unlike his girlfriend, Sirius pulled away and bursted into laughter, he laughed so hard that tears began pouring out of his eyes. That was until he felt Marlene pushing him. “Oi!” He laughed. “No violence, McKinnon” he grinned as the elevator stopped on their floor. He took her hand and dragged out and kissed her passionately. 

“Come on, love, let’s finish what we started” he grinned before opening the door of their flat.

Who is Sherlocked?

For reasons, I was checking out the Sherlock Youtube channel just now. To pass the time (i.e. procrastinating), I decided to watch the “I am Sherlocked” segment from ASiB again (for the umpteenth time, because, procrastination). I know this is nothing new – that the subtext of the scene was all about Sherlock and his feelings of want and desire for John (his celibacy was part of the disguise, his yearning for John’s affection was but a chemical defect…, etc.) — but just by watching the segment again and listening to the words being said… it made me even more certain (I honestly didn’t think it possible) of what awaits us in S4.

“I am Sherlocked” – that is the mystery. Irene Adler was the (gay) messenger that brought it to light for all to see. And yes, it is very much to do with sex. But who, of all the players involved in this mystery, is Sherlocked? Think about it. Doesn’t matter who you ask, Sherlock Holmes is the great detective in the funny hat, the calculating machine, the bloodhound that sends the criminals of the world into hiding, the hero of the rational minds. Sherlock Holmes is… well, Sherlocked; he exists in our collective consciousness as the public persona depicted over a century ago; his private life, and where his heart lies, can only be found if you read carefully between the lines of Dr. Watson’s chronicles. Sherlock was made aware of the century-old outward trappings in ASiB – of “being Sherlock Holmes” – and he’s been trying to solve the mystery (alone) ever since.

By the end of TAB Sherlock finally realizes the man with the key is none other than our good doctor (thank god) – and yes, we will see Sherlock Holmes unravel in ways no one thought possible, but with John Watson by his side every step of the way. What happens when Sherlock Holmes is no longer “Sherlocked”? I’ve no doubt the poetic of “Sherrinford Hope” will be utilized in some way (whether a mirrored character or Sherlock’s real name), but everyone on the planet that watches the show will soon realize the true meaning behind show title “Sherlock”: a Sherlock Holmes stripped bare of the historical trappings (maybe literally, who knows, haha). Anyway, my point being: all roads lead to Johnlock, guys, and we will finally see it with our own eyes in just a couple of months.