because she's angry with me right now and this is my apology note

One of my least favorite things in the Prisoner of Azkaban film is the handling of the Scabbers-Crookshanks narrative, and more specifically how in the movies it’s a far more one-sided fight completely in favor of Hermione. In the movie we get one scene of Ron warning Hermione to keep her cat away from Scabbers—a Scabbers who is apparently not ill or who Ron isn’t bothering to medicate like in the books, and a Scabbers that Ron can apparently almost forget to bring to Hogwarts necessitating his mother to run after the train to give the rat to him.

Jump to Scabbers suddenly being missing, Ron accusing Crookshanks with no evidence and Hermione defending her cat. The two are angry, but there is no real emotion, no actual hurt behind the words. Crookshanks could have accidentally spilled Ron’s inkwell and he would sound just as angry.

Then not minutes later, they are in Hagrid’s Hut where their friend miraculously produces the rat—not without chiding Ron “you should take better care of your pets” which automatically frames the situation as Ron’s fault to the audience. To drive the point further home Hermione, rather than simply be relieved and happy for her friend that his pet was not actually eaten, immediately starts in with “I think you owe someone an apology”. Ron purposefully acts obtuse, and further removes himself from the audience’s sympathy by replying “Next time I see Crookshanks, I’ll let him know” allowing Hermione a self-righteous “I meant me!” as if this is the greatest affront of her life.

And none of this is how it is in the book. At all.

Firstly, Crookshanks makes multiple attempts on Scabbers’ life throughout the novel in front of the Trio. This is partly because Hermione continues to allow her cat near Scabbers despite Ron repeatedly telling her not to. Because he cares about Scabbers. Despite him being a hand-me-down and a bit dull, Scabbers is his pet and Ron cares about him. He gets him—likely expensive—tonic when Scabbers begins losing weight and fur, he takes to carrying him around to keep him safer from Crookshanks. Scabbers is his pet and we are shown that Ron would be very upset if he were to lose him.

This sets the stage for when he does, when Pettigrew as Scabbers fakes his death and frames Crookshanks. Keeping in mind Ron’s feelings about Scabbers this whole previous year, his resulting actions make perfect sense. He is incredibly upset with Hermione and confronts her, only for her to deny her cat had any involvement.

And yeah, maybe it seems like he’s being mean to Hermione by shutting her out—something that Harry also does during the Firebolt fight that is conveniently left out of the movie—but look at it from Ron’s point of view. Hermione’s pet was attempting to kill his pet all year. He repeatedly requested she keep her pet away from his, and Hermione largely did not respect that boundary. When confronted with pretty damning evidence considering the circumstances, Hermione still refused to admit any possible blame and defended her cat who almost certainly—again, considering the circumstances—ate his rat. And just a note, Harry is equally convinced Crookshanks did it, even if he’s not as emotionally charged in his conviction. Why shouldn’t Ron be angry with her? Why shouldn’t he want her to admit her cat’s fault? His friend refused to listen to him all year and is now seemingly disregarding his feelings because she’s too proud to admit she’s wrong.

But here’s the thing. Once Hermione comes to Harry and Ron with the news about Buckbeak losing his trial—something far more important—they make amends. In fact it is Ron who does the most. Just to refresh everyone’s memory:

“They can’t do this,” said Harry. “They can’t. Buckbeak isn’t dangerous.”

“Malfoy’s dad frightened the Committee into it,” said Hermione, wiping her eyes. “You know what he’s like. They’re a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can’t see any hope…Nothing will have changed.”

“Yeah it will,” said Ron fiercely. “You won’t have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I’ll help.”

“Oh, Ron!”

Hermione flung her arms around Ron’s neck and broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermione drew away.

“Ron, I’m really, really sorry about Scabbers…,” she sobbed.

“Oh—well—he was old,” said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. “And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now.”

(Prizoner of Azkaban, pages 291-292, Scholastic Hardback Edition)

Harry barely says anything in this scene, and it is mostly Ron who extends the olive branch. This makes sense as the matter primarily concerns him and Hermione, but I just want to make it clear that Ron is not pressured into forgiving her, he is not grudging about it. In fact, he is already offering her his help before she even apologizes, and once she does he immediately tries to downplay his hurt feelings over Scabbers’ loss—mostly out of a fourteen year-old’s discomfort with crying and hugging from girls they may or may not have a developing crush on. He doesn’t gloat over the apology or being right, and he instantly drops any hostility.

This is chapter fifteen out of a twenty-two chapter book. Hermione and Ron are not feuding up until nearly the end of third year, as depicted in the movie. Hermione does in fact apologize about Scabbers while Ron is not an ass about it, and the narrative leaves them off on mostly even ground. The rest of the book consists of Ron working on the appeal for Hermione as she prepares for all her exams, worrying over her impossible schedule, her health, and so on. They barely even bicker that entire duration.

Ron is a great friend to Hermione. The movies just didn’t want to show that.

Pissed Off - Zach Dempsey

-NOT MY GIF-

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,023

Warnings: Swearing

Plot Summary: You end up accidentally pissing off the one and only Zach Dempsey. Now you have to make it up to him.

A/n: I know I’m doing pretty much all Zach Dempsey imagines right now but I love his character. Feel free to request an imagine for any of the characters listed on my Masterlist (:

“So how was Biology?” asked Hannah seemingly stepping out of nowhere.

“I’d say hell on earth, everyone’s failing apart from Dempsey” you said as the two of you walked off towards the lunch hall.

“Zach doesn’t he play basketball?” asked Hannah looking at you with a confused expression.

“Yeah and just because he’s acing the class miss is expecting everyone else to, why can’t the guy stick to being a dumb jock and make everyone’s lives easier” you laughed and Hannah giggled.

Suddenly someone pushed past you crashing into your shoulder with force before storming off down the hallway. You were too concerned about your shoulder and not dropping the stack of books you were holding to realise who it was.

“Oh god I think he heard you” said Hannah as you looked up just in time to see the one and only Zach Dempsey storm off around the corner.

“What’s he going to do anyway” you said pissed glaring at the corner and rubbing your shoulder.

“Well considering he’s six two and built like a brick shit house, not to mention he’s one of the most popular guys in the school I would say there are a fair few things that he could do to make your life hell” she said taking some of your books from you in an attempt to help.

“Oh god” you said looking at Hannah who had a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Yeah” she said rising her eyebrows.

The two of you sat down on one of the empty tables in the food hall, Hannah placing your books down next to you as you rubbed your shoulder. You got your lunch out of your bag picked up your sandwich and as you were about to take a bite you looked over to Zach’s table. He was smiling then as his eyes met yours his smile faded and turned into more of a pissed off look before he looked away from you and back to his friend.

“Oh, you have really pissed him off” said Hannah as you looked at her; she had turned her head into the direction of Zach and had seen what had happened.

“Great” you said putting your sandwich down suddenly not feeling hungry.

“If you don’t fix this then he has the power to destroy you” she said turning back to face you with as serious expression on her face.

“What do you mean fix this, there’s no fixing this! No one messes with a Jock without their life being ruined, you just wait today its dirty looks tomorrow it will be slime in my locker” you said crossing your arms.

“Slime?” She said a smile creeping onto her face.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“It was the first thing that popped into my head ok” you said trying to keep your angry face but failing as Hannah starting laughing.

“Ok, ok but on a serious note we can’t let that happen all you have to do is go up and apologise for what you said” said Hannah trying to put on the most serious face she had.

“Yeah because marching over there right now is a really good idea” you said shaking your head. “I’m just going to have to move to Antarctica and live with the penguins” finished

“There aren’t any Penguins in Antarctica” laughed Hannah. “Wow you really are shit at biology” she said shaking her head laughing.

“Oh well then I will go find Santa” you said “Become an elf or something.”

“Look just catch up with him after baseball practice today, he usually practices alone in sports hall so apologise then” she said as the bell rang and the two of you stood up to go to your form rooms.

“Yeah and if he doesn’t murder me then I will go and get my feet fitted for little green pointy boots and find some stripy tights” you said with a laugh as you waved goodbye to Hannah as the two of you headed in different directions to your form rooms.

You spent the next hour of History thinking about what the hell you were going to day to Zach, but as you slowly walked towards the doors of the sports hall all the plans you had made faded from your head and you heart hammered. You stood outside the door reluctant to go in as you heard the ball smacking into the ground again and again along with the squeak of his trainers on the floor.

Suddenly the door opened scaring you half to death and there stood Zach Dempsey, in his shorts bare chested just inches from you.

“What the hell are you doing here Y/n” he said and you winced at how your name came out of his mouth.

“I’m here to apologise” you said trying to look at anything but his toned chest or his muscular arms.

His expression didn’t change.

“I’m sorry for what I said about you being a dumb Jock and all that” you said quietly as he stared down at you, his gaze making you forget how to England.

“Apology not accepted” he said with a smirk.

“What?!” you said his statement breaking you out of your trance as you looked up at him shocked and confused.

“I said that I don’t accept your apology, you’re going to have to do better than that to earn my forgiveness” he said smirking again, the look in your eye made your stomach fill with butterflies.

“What do you mean?” you asked frowning trying as hard as you could not to appear weak under his gaze.

“Well” he said as he stepped closer to you leaning down a little bit, he brought his hands to your face and then kissed you.

You felt the cool wall against your back as he pressed up against you, you kissed back the kiss becoming more and more heated by the second as one of his arms went to your waist pulling you closer still. The he pulled away, you opened your eyes and he was smiling.

“Well that certainly a start” he said and you smiled.

asianregret  asked:

Here is my first question, many people are comparing Lena to the evolution of Morgana. What are the similarities and differences between the two of them characteristically and plot wise. 😍

Ah, yes. Pull up a chair kids because this is a damn good question.

I think we can all pretty much agree that making Lena evil and killing her off would be some of the most lazy and cliche examples of writing ever to be dragged across our screens. We’ve been suffering enough through S2 of Supergirl and this plot twist (not actually a plot twist) would not only most likely be the last straw for us all, but it would be ridiculous.

I know some people like to hate on Lena for different reasons such as not liking SuperCorp or just assuming that she will be just another evil Luthor. I have some words for those that talk crap about my precious cupcake but let’s keep this friendly shall we? Sure, there are some parallels between Lex and Clark vs. Lena and Kara. You can have those. But they aren’t the only parallels that exist. The real plot twist is already in progress friends. The real plot twist is Lena actually being *gay gasp* GOOD! Whaaaaat? Who saw that coming!?

Some that are familiar with Katie’s work pre-Lena like to compare Lena to Morgana. Which is awesome might I add. However, some of these comparisons are cheaply used to explain exactly why Lena will be evil. Nope. The Katie McGrath Character Analyst™ is here to tell you that is weak.

So lets start this out by talking about Morgana. Most of you are familiar, I’m sure but for those that are not or need some refreshing, let’s do a quick fact list/breakdown.

The Lady Morgana Pendragon

Originally posted by missmysteriousm


  • Originally considered to be Camelot’s Favorite Daughter
  • Daughter of Vivienne
  • Raised by Uther Pendragon’s best friend, Gorlois
  • Adopted by Uther following Gorlois’ death
  • Turns out to be Uther’s biological daughter and older half-sister of Arthur Pendragon
  • Has a legitimate claim to the throne
  • Younger half-sister of Morgause
  • Former friend and eventual rival of Merlin
  • Eventual enemy of Camelot
  • Powerful magic wielder rivaled only by Merlin/Emrys
  • The Last High Priestess of the Triple Goddess

Okay, caught up? Cool. Morgana’s story is actually quite tragic (Of course it is! It’s Katie! What do you think this is?) But it is quite powerful as well. It has always been foretold that it was in Morgana’s destiny is to become the evil, all-powerful witch that the grew to be. But she was not always like that, and she didn’t have to be! Morgana started out as a sweet, innocent, yet still fiery young woman that had a huge heart and the love and respect of everyone. She could stand up for herself and had the wits to challenge everyone around her. At that point, the biggest issues in her life were her negative feelings toward Uther’s views of magic and those that had it, and the possibility that she may have magic herself. Let us consider the very important fact that Morgana suffered from several external factors that eventually led to her turn.

Uther Pendragon

Morgana always made it clear that she disliked Uther’s harsh methods when it regarded the treatment of sorcerers in and around Camelot. She didn’t think it was right or fair that an innocent person should be executed simply because of what they are. She was right! There were good people in the world that had magic and did not deserve persecution. However, Uther would hear none of her arguments and often acted aggressively toward Morgana when she spoke against him. At times, Uther went as far as laying hands on Morgana and even locked her in a cell until she apologized for calling him a tyrant and a madman – for speaking the truth. Morgana also learns the truth of how Gorlois (the man she believed to be her father died). He was sent to battle by Uther whom failed to send him the reinforcements he needed. This is something that was very difficult for her to handle. It eventually came to Morgana’s attention that she had been lied to her entire life. She discovered that she was actually Uther’s biological daughter from a time that he was involved with Vivienne (mother of Morgause) and that she was actually the rightful heir to the throne. After hearing the way Uther claimed to feel about her, she tried to give him a chance to come clean. Instead Uther decided to keep his secret saying the people do not need to know, thus denying Morgana and her birthright. After years of his crap, Morgana had enough of him. She hated him. She wanted him dead. Needed him dead. So she turned to our next evil inducing factor, Morgause.

Morgause

Ah Morgause and Morgana. Umm, MorMor? Was that a thing? People shipped them. Shippers, acknowledge and answer me! Was that name a thing?? Wait no, Morcest! That’s what it was. Okay. Got it. Thanks guys. This troubles me.

Anywho, Morgause obviously played a major role in Morgana’s turn. I’ll skip ahead really quick and say that Morgause was literally the only person that had enough opportunity, that actually tried to help Morgana explore her power. She helped Morgana embrace the magic that she was originally so afraid of. When meeting with Morgause one night, she explained that she hated the man the Uther had become and even had a chance to kill him but decided to save him instead. She regretted that decision. Morgause saw this and the trust Morgana has invested in her as an opportunity to use Morgana’s body as a vessel that hosted an enchantment that proved to be dangerous to Camelot. Morgana was of course, unaware of this and was not intentionally hurting anyone. This led to the final straw and evil inducing factor, Merlin.

Merlin (and Gaius and Kilgharrah)

I will keep this short because again, Merlin was a man that Morgana originally placed great faith and trust in. They went through a lot together and Morgana trusted him to keep her secret of having magic. Where did our “hero” go wrong? He lied to her. Kept the secret of having magic away from her despite knowing how he could help her. He decided to keep it a secret because the old man and the crazy locked up dragon told him so. Bad choice Merlin. Upon discovering Morgana’s alleged involvement in Camelot’s toil, he just up and poisoned her. That’s it. Tricked her. Poisoned her. Sat there and cried while he murdered the woman that was supposed to be his friend. Rude. Morgause was the one that came to her rescue. Case in point: If Merlin had been honest with Morgana from the beginning, she most likely would not have turned to Morgause. She would not have felt so alone. She would not have been taken away by Morgause and shaped into the evil, angry, and vindictive sorceress that she became. Merlin even acknowledged this point later.

The result: Evil!Morgana

Originally posted by ethan-chandlr

Good job team. Sloooow clap. Look what you did. Now she’s pissed.

So how does this all compare to our lil cupcake Lena Luthor?? Let’s see.

Firstly, this is tough because we had 5 seasons of our beautiful Morgana and only have ohhh about an hour or less of Lena (crime against humanity). Let me see what I can do, Chance.

Lena Luthor

Originally posted by suprcorp

So this is a novel and people hate me already soooo, tune in for Lena’s analysis OR a TL;DR after the break. Stay with me, lovelies!

Keep reading

now or never || dylan o’brien au

word count: 11,502

warnings: cursing, fluff, and soul crushing angst (y’all can thank soph @sincerelystiles for that one)

author’s note: this is a 50′s era au and it is so long and i am genuinely so proud of this! thank you to my girls @sarcasticallystilinski @dumbass-stilinski @sincerelystiles @mf-despair-queen @sabrinas-wolves @thelittlestkitsune @dylan-ohbrien @ninja-stiles and @minhosmeanhoe for letting me constantly tease them with sneak peeks! enjoy! :)

paring: dylan o’brien / reader

masterlist

coming soon

Keep reading

Suprise

Bucky x Reader

warnings: angst ( bawling uncontrollably counts)

Word count: 1,140

Y/N = your name

E/C = eye color

Summary: Bucky finds out one of his old gal friends is in town and was invited to hang out. But reader has a bad history with her since she too loved Bucky so she wants to come along, but Bucky doesn’t think that it is a good idea. This leads to an argument that doesn’t end with tears of happiness. 


“Bucky c’mon, I see no reason to why I can’t come along, she’s just your friend right?” You and Bucky mostly never agrue over stupid things like this, but ever since Claire (best friend that used to love him) called and asked Bucky to hang out today, you couldn’t help but feel panicky. 

“She is just a friend Y/N, and it’s just because the last time she was with us you looked so uncomfortable and looked as if you were gonna tear her head off.” Bucky had said while getting dressed. 

“Well how could I not Bucky! She kept on brushing her hand against your own, and making googly eyes at you!” Bucky knew that you were insecure about loosing him because you thought you weren’t good enough, or as beautiful …like Claire.  After Bucky finished pulling down his shirt he came to you and had grabbed your hands while looking into your E/C eyes. “ Y/N I promise she is only a friend and we’ll only be out for a couple of hours.” 

Keep reading

Pride and Prejudice, and Consent

Time to cleanse the palate with a bit of positive relationship analysis!

One of the tropes that plagues, and has plagued, romance fiction ever since the invention of the novel is the idea of female consent not being necessary as long as the male is desirable and/or really wants her. Often, the heroine will succumb either to her own desires or his, whether she is entirely willing to do so or not, and that is framed as being analogous with passion—even love.

Well, two hundred years before Fifty Shades of Grey played fast and loose with consent issues, I present to you the antithesis of this trope in Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice, receives two proposals of marriage that are eerily similar, despite the outward differences of her two suitors. Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy both spring unexpected and unwelcome proposals of marriage on her, calling to light her family’s lack of financial security and connection, seeing themselves as condescending to offer for her, and being completely perplexed by her refusal to accept them.

Elizabeth to Collins: You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who would make you so.

Elizabeth to Darcy: I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.“

Elizabeth’s words leave no ambiguity for either gentleman: she soundly rejects them both in a similar fashion. From this, readers may infer that since Darcy and Elizabeth end up together, it is Darcy who is persistent in his romantic intentions after Elizabeth has said “no.” But in fact, it is Collins who refuses to take no for an answer, and Darcy who never oversteps his bounds.

The first thing Collins says after he hears her rejection is that she cannot be serious in her refusal. 

 "I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”

So elevated is his own sense of self-worth that she has to explain to him that she did, in fact, mean what she said:

  “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal.”

What is the result? Collins still doesn’t take no for an answer, again:

  “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins very gravely – “but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say.”

And again:

  "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

  “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one.”

And again:

   "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: – It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.“

   ”I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretension whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.“

And again:   

"You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

In fact, Collins only stops pursuing Elizabeth when her father puts his foot down and backs her refusal. Pride and Prejudice is a comedy, and so the tone is light on the surface, but beneath the satire is a very real, earnest desire to communicate how often women’s words—even their consent—are dismissed as fickle or inconsequential. Seeing our heroine not fleeing dramatically from a villain, but pursued by an entitled man who doesn’t take her words seriously, we feel Elizabeth’s sense of outrage and how belittling it is for Collins to act this way.

By contrast, though we might imagine a love interest like Darcy to be overcome with passion and try to make her his own by any means, Darcy is remarkably restrained and respectful without ever losing his ardent love for the woman he wants to marry. The first divergence of his response from Collins’ occurs right after he has been rejected:

   "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.“

The wording here is important. He doesn’t demand that she explain why she rejected him, but rather why she was so impolite about doing so (since he has no knowledge of her dislike of him). He continues to be honest about his objections to her family’s behavior and place in the world, and to be angry at her for defending the duplicitous Wickham, but he never tries to convince her that she was wrong in rejecting him, even though he still views her as a social inferior.

After their heated conversation, Darcy leaves with an apology that he has occupied her for so long:

   "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

This is a far cry from Collins following Elizabeth around after the proposal and trying to go over her head to her parents for support.

But wait—doesn’t the love interest write Elizabeth a letter, convincing her to give him another chance?

No. Both Darcy’s letter and its method of delivery are respectful of Elizabeth’s boundaries and her refusal of him.

It should be noted that an unmarried gentlewoman receiving letters from a man she was not engaged to resulted in scandal if it were ever exposed. If Darcy had wanted to compel Elizabeth to marry him, he would only have had to deliver the letter publicly, or through the post. Instead, he delivers the letter in person, when they are alone in a park and there is no chance of discovery. It is still a bit of a risk, though, and so he asks (not demands) that she read it:

“Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?“

Right from the beginning, Darcy reassures Elizabeth that he is not trying to impose on her or get her to accept him after she has made her wishes clear:

 "Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. 

While it is more than apparent that her rejection stung and he is still in love with her, he never brings up the subject of the proposal again—the contents are a defense of the charges she had laid against his character, as well as a warning against Wickham for her own safety. He doesn’t ask for a second chance or demand she reconsider her words, even in light of this new information. Moreover, he trusts her with the knowledge of his sister’s near-elopement with Wickham (which could cause a scandal if discovered), thus risking as much by delivering the letter as Elizabeth does by accepting it. In every way, he trusts her judgment and keeps her wishes in mind.

When they meet again at Pemberley, Darcy is trying to reform his behavior. He is cordial to her tradesman uncle and aunt, and has divested himself of the haughtiness that prevented her from seeing his true worth initially. Darcy does not give himself permission to pursue Elizabeth as a result of this change in character; it is only after they have met and talked cordially that he asks her, not to speak with him alone, but to meet his sister. In fact, he resists making romantic overtures for the duration of the visit, which ends abruptly when Elizabeth discovers her sister’s elopement with Wickham. And even there, when she and Darcy are accidentally alone during her distress, he makes no move to use the occasion as an excuse to “comfort” her with his advances. His reaction is, in fact, quite the opposite:

 "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern.”

Another opportunity arises for Darcy to compel Elizabeth to marry him, this time out of gratitude. Unable to see Elizabeth so wretched, he finds Lydia and Wickham in London and, at great expense, convinces them to marry. He saves not only her sister’s reputation but that of her entire family. Yet rather than use that as an example to Elizabeth of what a good person he is, he forbids her aunt and uncle from mentioning that it was he who saved the Bennets’ good name. Elizabeth doesn’t even know he was involved until Lydia thoughtlessly gives the game away (after she, too, was sworn to secrecy).  

How then, do Lizzy and Darcy get together? It is Elizabeth herself who gives Darcy a reason to believe her opinion of him has improved. During a verbal duel with Darcy’s formidable aunt, she comes out the winner and point-blank refuses to give Lady Catherine a promise not to pursue Mr. Darcy. Lady Catherine petulantly tries to cut the problem off at the source by relating everything to her nephew. It works about as well as you’d expect.

 But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.

   "It taught me to hope,“ said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

What prompts Darcy to renew his offer of marriage is nothing more or less than evidence that Elizabeth had seen his change of heart and accepted it.

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once.My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”

Above is Darcy’s second proposal. After hearing her first rejection, he takes her at her word, respectfully gives her information that might have led her to mistaken conclusions about him, leaves even before he is asked to, reforms his own behavior, never takes advantage of their being alone to make unwanted advances, assists her and her family without taking any credit, and once he has seen enough signs to think she might accept him, renews his offer once and only once. If she says no again, unlike Collins, he will not continue to pester her or seek her out. He will not try to convince her that her decision was wrong. It is a sad statement on society that this is a remarkable thing, no less in the real world than in fiction, and all too prevalent in heroes of romance even two hundred years later. There is no shortage of love interests who mistake passion for permission, conflict for consent, and adversity for flirtation—but there is also no excuse for this to continue, particularly now. If a novel published in 1813 can understand the letter and spirit of consent, I think we can do better in our own time.


EDIT: Continued here.

anonymous asked:

can you do a fic or imagine where josh is late to someone's funeral (like a family member or something) and realizes he wants to bring flowers so on his way he steals some from the readers garden!!! fluff if you can :) love you tay xoxo

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

Warnings: death mention, poor sappy sad josh. 

Note: I’m so sorry that I take so long to update and write. I’ve been in a bad place lately, but I’m trying to pull out of it. You guys are the best, thanks for sticking with me through all this stuff and being so supportive!! honestly idek what this is, I wrote this half asleep all while eating an unhealthy amount of pasta, so please excuse the inevitable typos that you will find. But anyway here’s a kinda sad, kinda fluffy mess of a fic. 

Josh is late. In every sense of the word, he is so late. He’s even still in his work uniform, grey polo shirt scratching uncomfortably under his rain jacket. His hands are freezing and he doesn’t even have any flowers. Ashley is going to be so mad.

He’s power walking, well aware he probably looks like a mom tracking down six kids in a crowded mall (thinking of that makes his heart clench in his chest). There’s one more street to walk down–he refuses to drive there, it makes it feel too real. He stuffs shaking hands in his pockets and turns the corner.

Josh doesn’t have flowers. He’s visiting for the first time since it happened, he’s late, and he doesn’t have flowers.

He’s a block away when he sees them, the roses growing almost chaotically over a small light pink fence. He stops and looks down at them, then around. No one’s watching, so he crouches and picks a decent handful, murmuring a few sorries as the stems snap. He notes the house number and reminds himself to write a thank you note before standing up and continuing on his way.

Everyone’s already there when Josh arrives, eyes watery from the wind. Ashley gives him a look that would’ve been terrifying if not for the red around her eyes, and Josh mouths his apology while passing out hugs.

With a deep breath he crouches and places the six roses at the base of the polished stone. “Hi, mum.” Josh whispers, pressing a kiss into his hand and then to her name. “Sorry I’m late.”

I miss you. I stole these flowers for you, the old lady they belong to probably noticed already. My boss gave me a few extra sick days because she knows. I’m tired of everyone knowing. I love you.

It happens seven times in the course of two months, and Josh really doesn’t mean to make it a habit, but he can never seem to remember the flowers until he’s well on his way, and there are so many of them in the garden that he hardly feels bad. He never got around to writing the note.

He’s sitting in front of the grave with a bunch of daisies. “The girls miss you.” Josh says quietly, arranging the flowers nicely along the stone. The white is almost too bright to look at. “We all miss you, mum.” He whispers, feeling a tear run down his cheek. “Today at work a girl brought in her therapy dog. She was behind the counter with me and her dog—I can’t remember it’s name, but it spent the whole time licking my shoe. Reckon he knows, too? Anyway, it was nice. Maybe I should get a dog.”

Josh never means to cry but he always ends up doing it. It takes about twenty minutes for him to be able to breathe again, then he says goodbye and walks the three blocks to his car.

He usually visits once a week, sometimes one of his sisters comes with him. If it’s Abigail, they go get ice cream after. If it’s Ashley, which it usually is, they get coffee and don’t talk about it.

It’s running on month six when Josh sees her. He’s holding a beautiful bunch of chrysanthemums by his side, when he notices that there’s someone in the window holding the curtain aside. They make eye contact, and Josh feels very guilty. She doesn’t look angry, although there’s a noticeable furrow between her eyebrows. She’s wearing a cotton bathrobe and holding a mug of coffee. Josh could use some coffee.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he just smiles and holds up the flowers. Then turns on his heels and walks as quickly as he can.

“It’s not an old lady, mum, it’s a girl. She saw me today, caught me red handed.” Josh mumbles, laughing a bit to himself as he clears away some old flowers and places the new ones. “She didn’t do anything though, so I think I’m okay.” His voice cracks as he says it, and then, as usual, starts crying.

It takes two more times for the rightful owner of the flowers to confront Josh about his thievery.

Josh’s on his knees, picking some cute purple flowers when he hears her voice.

“Um, hello?” Josh nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Oh shit.” Josh says, looking up and feeling his heart sink. “Right. I’m sorry I just–your flowers are very nice.”

She smiles and crosses her hands over her chest. “Thank you.”

Josh’s still kneeling, hands shaking where they’re holding stems. She has long, dark hair and a sort of crooked smile on her face. Neither of them are saying anything. She’s wearing an old shirt with a hole near the hem. Josh’s hands are sweating.

“You know, if you’re going to steal my flowers to take to your girl, I think I’m going to have to come with you to make sure she’s beautiful enough to warrant theft.” She says, oddly calm and good natured.

Josh doesn’t know what to say. He just nods, trying to ease the panic rising in his chest.

“Add a few roses.” She orders, and Josh nods, picking a few and standing up, finally. “I’m Y/N, by the way.“ She says, extending a hand.

Josh smiles and shakes it. “Josh.” She smiles at him one more time and then they start to walk.

She pesters him with questions about his imaginary girlfriend, and Josh tries to answer them in the vaguest way possible, all the while trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to explain this when they get to the cemetery.

“Did she like the daisies you picked last time? I always thought those were more of a flower you give your mum, but I guess they’re nice.” she babbles, and Josh almost chokes.

“Yeah, um. Yeah.” he says, his heart racing in his chest. The small side entrance is only a few meters away, and she still has no idea. Josh doesn’t say anything as he walks through the gate, holding it open for her, who immediately stops talking as well.

The silence feels like a heavy blanket, and she just follows Josh as he makes the walk now committed to memory. Josh almost forgets she’s there, dropping to the probably permanently grass stained knees of his jeans and managing a smile. “Hi mum.” He places the flowers around the base of the stone, like he always does. Josh jolts when he feels a hand on his thigh, near his knee. He follows the arm up and meets her green eyes. Josh hadn’t noticed her kneel, too.

“Josh…” she whispers, obviously surprised. Josh doesn’t blame her.

“Don’t.” he says quietly, sniffling and looking away from him. “I brought someone with me. She’s the one I’ve been stealing all the flowers from.” Josh says, smiling a bit and he hears Y/N mumble a soft hello. “She hasn’t called the cops on me yet, which I guess is good.”

He takes a shaky breath before getting choked up. He puts his face in his hands and this was always just a part of his agenda, but the arm around his shoulders is new.

She starts talking.

“The first time I was sitting in my kitchen and I was like oh god do not pick the hibiscuses, they’ve got bees. But he didn’t, he chose some tulips instead.“ she laughs a little, and Josh almost starts crying again. “Between us, I hope he never stops.” she whispers, and Josh knows he wasn’t meant to hear it. There’s a lot he wasn’t meant to do.

Josh sniffles loudly and sits up to wipe his eyes. Her arm is still around his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” he says out of habit, as he’s been doing every time anyone’s seen him cry since October. She just shakes her head and uses a thumb to wipe a stray tear.

“Don’t apologize.” She says, and puts her hand back on her own lap. Josh wants to tell her to put it back. “I’ll um, give you some privacy.” She says, standing up and brushing her jeans off. “And, Josh, you’re welcome to my flowers anytime.” She says, giving him a bright smile before walking away.

Josh doesn’t watch her walk away. He turns back to the gravestone and sighs. “She’s kinda nice isn’t she mum?”

Josh can almost hear his mum yelling at him. Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

He kisses his hand and presses it agains the warming stone. “I love you.” He gets up, not bothering to dust off his knees and all but sprints back out to the sidewalk. Josh jogs down the road and turns the corner, smiling when he sees her walking peacefully down the street.

“Hey!” Josh yells, picking up to a run. She turns, and stops walking, looking surprised that Josh is running after her.  

“Let me, um, buy you lunch.” he says breathlessly.  “Figure I owe you one, since I’ve been stealing your flowers for months.“

She smiles and nods.  “Yeah, I guess that’a fair payback.”

They talk as they walk to her pick of café, and Josh feels lighter than he has in months.

They walk back to Y/N’s, and she makes Josh promise to close his eyes as she grabs the spare key. It’s painfully adorable.

“Wanna, um come in?” she asks, looking down at her feet as she says it. Josh’s cheeks go hot at that, being suddenly floored by how pretty she really is.

“I-” Josh starts, before checking his watch,. “Really need to be heading home.” He tries not to let the way her face falls hurt his feelings too bad. “I have work in like, an hour, so.” he explains, and she nods.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Maybe another time.” she says, eyes wide and hopeful.

Josh grins. "Definitely. I’ll call you–or you’ll see me in your garden, either one.” He throws in a wink and leans in to peck her cheek before turning and walking down the street to his car.  At the corner he turns and finds Y/N still standing in her doorway.

It was not a good day. Josh has been avoiding sleep because every time he closes his eyes at night,  he can’t stop picturing the time he showed his mum how he could climb the tree in the backyard. He fell on the second branch and skinned his shin and elbow. She patched him up and bought him ice cream, and then they watched movies until Josh fell asleep against her on the couch.

He sighs and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’d stopped crying about an hour ago, now he’s just staring at his ceiling with his eyes burning. It’s four thirty. Sleep is definitely out of the picture, so Josh grabs his keys and does the only thing he can think of.

He picks seven roses on his way, hops the fence, and finds he can still cry, forehead pressed against cold stone.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, but when he opens his eyes, the sky is more grey than black. “Fuck.” He curses and rubs at his stinging eyes. “Sorry for swearing,” He whispers, laughing a bit. “I’ll be back soon, I love you.”

He stands.  It’s about to be five in the morning, and Josh really can’t see himself driving all the way back home. He doesn’t quite know what to do as he walks back, but then he sees the garden, and finds himself knocking on the door.

It takes a few, but Y/N does open the door, hair a mess, grey sweats hanging low on her hips. “Josh,” She says, surprised. “What are you doing here babe?” she asks softly.

“Couldn’t sleep. Needed some flowers.” he mumbles, blinking a few times to try and get rid of the blurriness creeping across his eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” she says without missing a beat, and Josh sighs, relieved. He toes off his sneakers at the door and lets Y/N lead him through the house.  He can tell that Y/N wants to ask, but doesn’t.

In fact, she doesn’t say anything, and Josh finds that oddly comforting, she just sits next to Josh on the couch and keeps her hands curled in her lap.  

“I took some roses again this morning,” Josh admits.

“What color?” is all she responds with.

“The white.”

“That’s the best kind,” she assures him. You can keep helping yourself to those.” she says, leaning over and poking into Josh’s side. “Think of it as my gift to your mum, too.”

That makes Josh tear up a bit.

“I should go,” he says, not wanting to start crying in front of her for a second time.  

“Oh,” she says, sounding almost disappointed.  “Right— okay.”

Josh stands up, his chest feeling tight and his thoughts racing.  But in the midst of the chaos, he hears her voice.  Clear as day; the reason behind his messy, illogical mind. Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

Josh turns suddenly then, and takes a step closer to Y/N, so he can hold her hands in his own. “Can I take you to breakfast right now?”

She beams at him, dimples drilled into her cheeks as she nods in agreement. She hurriedly finds shoes and a jacket, stopping at the door to lock the door before following Josh out. They walk to his car hand in hand, and it all feels so right.

They get pancakes, and Josh kisses the whip cream off her lips. People give them looks as they laugh obnoxiously and fond over one another. Josh doesn’t care.

He wakes up the next morning in a bed that isn’t his own and to the smell of bacon. He smiles to himself. “Are you ever going to let me make you breakfast?” he asks, laughing a little when he sees Y/N standing in front of the stove.

“Maybe, if you ever wake up before me.” she says, looking over her shoulder and smiling at Josh.

They sit down to eat breakfast on Y/N‘s couch, blanket pulled over both of them, and it’s home.

anonymous asked:

I know prompts are closed and I feel bad about asking this but my girlfriend just broke up with me because she doesn't have enough time in her life for me so could you maybe write something about Maggie feeling like Alex doesn't have time for her and Alex comforts her? I just need someone to have a happy ending that I didn't get. But if you don't have time don't worry about writing it.

It’s always the other way around.

She’s always the one accused of putting work ahead of the relationship, always accused of not caring enough – even though she bends over backwards, every day, every night, every moment in between, to be as affectionate as she can be, to be as thoughtful as she can be, even when she’s exhausted, even when she’s a nervous wreck, even when god this really has to get done, but she needs to know she means something to me – but now?

Now that she’s dating a secret agent with a superhero for a sister?

Now, she thinks she knows a little bit what it feels like.

And she understands, she does. She truly, truly does. Because their jobs are so different, but they’re also so the same.

So when Alex’s workplace is on lockdown and she misses their first concert together, she gets it.

And when Alex gives her a quick kiss and a grimace and a promise to make it up to her and sprints to the DEO in the middle of dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in the city because Kara – well, Supergirl – needs something that only Alex can give, she understands.

And when Alex leaves early – so early the sun isn’t even up yet – and Maggie wakes up to a cold, empty bed, she’s not angry.

(Especially because Alex leaves the sweetest notes: You’re so beautiful while you sleep, princess, I didn’t want to disturb you; I can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful; Thank you for an amazing, amazing, mind-blowing night (I always thought that was an exaggeration. Thank you for proving my hypothesis wrong, Detective); There’s coffee and a dry double-toasted bagel (gross) on the table for you, beautiful.)

So it’s not Alex. Truly, it’s not.

It’s the ghosts of everyone else – everyone else who’s left her, everyone else who’s done everything in their power to prove she isn’t worth anyone’s time, anyone’s effort, anyone’s real love – that seep into her head, her heart, and twist her stomach into knots.

So when Alex comes home – three hours later than she’d said she would – and kicks off her boots and pulls Maggie into a soft kiss, Maggie melts.

She melts, but she’s also fighting tears, fighting fear, fighting the terror that Alex only wants her when it’s convenient, that Alex only wants her because it’s convenient, that Alex only wants her when Alex wants her, and nothing more.

Alex feels it, feels her stiffen at the same time as she melts, and she runs her hands down Maggie’s arms until she’s holding her hands, and she pulls away from their kiss and she looks down with concerned eyes and a soft voice.

“What’s wrong?”

Maggie steps back automatically. “Nothing, I – you guys get that last weapon back in containment?”

“Yeah, we did, Winn and I had to – no, Maggie, no. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Alex, it – I – ”

Alex’s stare is fixed, but her eyes aren’t angry. They’re worried, and more than a little tired, and guilt digs into Maggie’s veins.

“I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong, Danvers. Did you eat dinner?”

“Maggie.”

“Danvers. Did you eat dinner?”

“Maggie, please.”

Maggie’s back is to her, now, and Alex watches as her shoulders stiffen, as her hands open and close, as her left hand rises to her chin, then falls and rubs nervously up and down her own thigh.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend time with me.”

Whatever Alex is expecting to hear, it isn’t that. “Like I have to – what?”

Maggie whirls around, and her eyes are calm on the surface, but raging just beneath, terrified just beneath, and Alex’s heart threatens to break.

“You just got off a – what – sixteen hour shift? After yesterday’s twelve? You should be able to rest when you come home, not listen to your girlfriend….”

Alex shakes her head and furrows her brow and steps forward tentatively, stopping just short of touching Maggie. “Listen to my girlfriend what?”

“You know what, Danvers, it doesn’t matter, I – if you didn’t eat, I made you that pesto pasta stuff you like, there’s leftovers in the fridge, I’m going to bed – ”

“Maggie. Are you angry that I didn’t come home on time?”

No. No, I’m not angry, I’m not, I just… I don’t want to take up more of your time, Danvers. You’re only human, even though you don’t treat yourself like one. You run yourself into the ground at work, for Kara, and that’s… that’s what I love about you, Alex, but I don’t want to be… a distraction, or an annoyance, I don’t want you to feel like you have to come home and entertain me, like you’re obligated to spend time with me when you’re tired or you just want to be alone or – ”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Alone time’s important. But I go for my runs, and you do your heavy bag, and I think we’ve been pretty decent at carving out other separate time. Your outings with James, mine with Winn, and with Kara, your video games sessions with Winn… But if you think we need to get better at that, Maggie, that’s okay – I didn’t have to come over tonight, I just thought – ”

“Right, exactly, you thought I needed you to, and I don’t want to put that burden on you, Alex.”

“Can I touch you?”

“What?”

“Can I touch you? Would you like it if I touched you? I want to hold you. If you want to be held.”

Maggie blinks down tears and nods defiantly, and Alex wraps her up in her arms and kisses her forehead.

“Maggie, you are never a burden. I love spending time with you. I love coming home to you. And yeah, okay, I don’t have the most spare time in the world, but the spare time that I do have, Maggie? The spare time that I’ve created for myself since I met you? And no, stop, please, don’t apologize – I love it, Maggie. Because I love… I love you, and carving out time for you, for us? That’s part of carving out time for me. Because you make me so happy, Mags. I never could have imagined being as happy as I am with you, I… you’re never a burden, Maggie. I don’t care how many hours I work, or how demanding both of our jobs are. Loving you, Maggie Sawyer, will never be anything but an honor and a joy. I promise.”

“Even when I get all whiny and insecure like a twelve year old?”

“Even when you get all self-deprecating and have legitimate trauma from being abandoned so often and need some understandable reassurance, yes.”

“Big words there, Danvers.”

Alex preens. “I went to Stanford.”

“Nerd.”

“Your nerd, Maggie. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You said you made pasta?”

“Your favorite.”

“Ugh, you really are the best.”

SugarDaddy!Cal Pt.14

A/N: So you guys, this time this whole chapter was written with Harry Styles’ album on repeat because girl…that’s my shit. I could’ve ended it better, but I honestly didn’t know how to. Anyway, you all know the drill of 100 notes and feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy, lovebugs💕

 **WARNINGS**: Nothing besides profanity. A nice vanilla chapter


Parts: One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/
Nine/Ten/Eleven/Twelve/Thirteen/Fourteen/Fifteen


“Mmm, good morning, princess.” Calum whispered as he pressed loving kisses to your jaw.

You sat there stiffly cuddled into his chest, your voice holding no emotion as you told him,“Get your shit and leave.”

Calum’s eyebrows met together and he pulled his arms from around you, sitting up so that he could see your face. You wouldn’t even look at him.

“I thought we-”

“Yeah, I did too.” You cut him off before telling him what you came to realize when you woke up nearly an hour ago.“You fucking used me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember what you texted Michael?”

Calum’s eyebrows never parted during this whole conversation, his face showing nothing but confusion. When you unlocked and handed him his phone, it was already opened on the messages between him and one of his best mates.

“You went through my phone?”

“Michael text you something about work and I told him I’d tell you when you woke up, because I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to him at seven in the morning. I just so happened so see my name and got curious.”

“Yeah, but you-”

“Cal, it was never a problem going through your phone for three months straight. Why is it a problem because you’re in trouble?”

Calum shook his head and went to read the conversation, mentally choking himself from what was said. Of course he didn’t mean it like that, but now that you’ve seen it there’s no way your going to believe him.

Calum: I just miss her mate.
~I miss everything about her from how loud her laugh is to the way she scrunches up her nose when she sees something disgusting
~And the way she always smelled when we cuddled
~And the sex…the sex was fucking phenomenal…I miss that the most

Michael:Then go get her Calum
~I couldn’t if I wanted to
~Go apologize and fuck her, you said that works every times she’s mad
~This is different…
~I’m just telling you what you told me you do when she’s upset with you
~ You go buy her some shit, apologize, and have sex with her. Isn’t that how the ordeal works or something
~Well…I guess you’re right
~I’m always right
~I’ll try

“Y/N, I swear to you that really wasn’t my intention.” He held his hands in the air as if surrendering.“I drunk a few beers and came over to talk and it just led to something else.”

“Wasn’t that the point, though?” You spoke, your voice laced with attitude as you crossed your arms.

“No! No, I promise!” Calum seemed panicked, but you payed it no mind.

All Calum was thinking was he somewhat got you back last night only to lose you again over some stupid text that seemed worse than it actually was. He felt as if he should have the word “IDIOT” written in big bold letters across his forehead.

“I honestly missed you and it wasn’t just about the sex. I just wanted a way to feel close to you that’s why I went through with it. I thought- I thought that meant we were going to be okay.”

You heard the sadness in his voice and saw how his face softened as if he was actually hurt, but no. He shouldn’t be the one hurt, he’s the one who keeps hurting you.

“You’re just…” you laughed lightly, shaking your head in disbelief.“you’re unbelievable. Feeding me dreams just to get what you want. Do you even actually like me?”

“Yes! Of course I do! Everything is just too complicated right now, but-”

“Just go.” You interrupted, standing to show your bare body. When you saw him eyeing you and watched as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, you had to remember to be mad at him. “Don’t come back, Calum. Seriously.”

“No.”

“Go to your fucking model girlfriend and tell her how you cheated on her with a bitch like me. See how she feels.”

You slowly began to find some lounge clothes consisting of a pair of black tights and a polka dotted shirt and ignored the fact that Calum was still sitting there on your bed. Sadly, he was still fully naked, so the multitude of thoughts that were running through your head contradicted what you initially were thinking about him. God, the things that boy did to you. He waited until you began to re-moisturize your curly mane in the mirror before he spoke again.

“Princess, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Yeah, me either.”

You heard the Māori sigh behind you and him shuffling around to unravel himself from the sheets. You watched through the mirror as he got dressed with the most defeated expression and fought the urge to let him back in. It was heartbreaking to say, but you really had to let Calum go. You refused to keep him in your life if that only meant you’d be angry and jealous twenty four seven over some white girl you didn’t even know. Some girl who snatched him from you within days and ruined what the two of you had going. You weren’t going to be bitter over a man who was never really yours. Calum wrapped his toned arms around you from behind and you stiffened, looking at him through the mirror. He had his face hidden in your hair and began to sway you from side to side, letting out another sigh, but this time in contentment and not disappointment.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting one last hug before I see you in God knows when.”

“Get off of me.”

He placed a kiss to your shoulder and mumbled out,“Bye, princess.”, and finally exiting your room.

You huffed and bent over to lean over your dresser to rest your face in your hands. Who knew catching feelings would be this complicated?


You groaned loudly as you continued to bang on your friend’s door, praying that he’d come open it. You knew he was in there due to hearing the sound of what seemed to be Adele playing somewhere in the apartment. Typical Connor.

“Dammit, Connor, open the door!” You shouted and waited a few minutes to see if he’d come to the door. When that didn’t work, you began to threatened him.“Don’t make me go to headquarters and tell them that I don’t know if you’re alive or not.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you had to check on both him and Felix for locking themselves in their apartment for days at a time. Soon enough you heard the sound of a lock turning and there stood your best friend in all of his…glory.

“What the hell?” Your eyes widened at his appearance.

You’d known this man for two years and you’ve never, not even once, caught him slipping like this. His hair was definitely in need for a cut and it seemed as if he hadn’t washed it in a weeks. His usually glowing tanned skin was now a bit pale, he had dark bags underneath his eyes, and the sparkle in his bright, sky blue eyes dimmed to a dull blue. You were pretty confident that if he could grow facial hair, he’d be sporting a full beard.

“Connor, oh my God. You just…wow.”

“I know, I look like a homeless man, shut up.”

“Okay, you’re definitely getting out of this apartment." 

“Y/N, no.”

“Connor, yes.” You used the same tone back on him as you pushed passed him to enter.

Surprisingly the nicely designed apartment was nearly spotless besides the empty pizza box and half a two liter coke sitting on the coffee table. However, the house had lost its usual smell and its comes to help you realize that it was Felix’s cologne that surrounded these walls. Connor always wore something light with a fruity scent whereas Felix wore some heavy polo cologne.

"I’m not going anywhere.”

“You haven’t left this apartment in a month.” You deadpanned.“The only time you do leave is for groceries.”

Connor didn’t say anything as he plopped into his couch. You took a seat beside him and watched as he picked at a string on shirt that you realized belong to Felix, the difference between their height causing it to be a little longer on him. You two sat in a comforting silence until he finally broke it.

“Have you seen Felix?” He asked his eyes darting away from you the second you made eye contact.

“You don’t know where he is?”

“We haven’t uh…He won’t return my calls or texts.” He shrugged.“Im actually kind of worried because if he’s with some other guys getting comforted he might not ever come back,because that’s how I met him and-”

“Connor, Felix’s been sleeping on my couch for the past month.”

“And you didn’t fucking say anything?!”

“I thought you knew!”

“Oh my fucking God, Y/N! All this time I could’ve been banging on your door trying to win him back instead of thinking he was on the other side of town or some shit!”

“All you had to do was ask.” You said as you crossed your arms.“I thought you were ignoring him on purpose.”

“Of course I’m not ignoring him. I saw Felix as my future husband, I’m not letting him go.”

You noticed the tears in his eyes and sighed, opening up your arms and gesturing for him to hug you. You knew the blonde most likely hadn’t spoke a word about the breakup to anyone and had been alone in his apartment letting it all out. He sobbed loudly on your shoulder as you rubbed comforting circles on his back.

“I miss him so fucking much.”

“He misses you too, C.”

“I wouldn’t fucking know. He’s being so bitchy about the whole thing and-and-”

“Shhh, it’s gonna be okay.” You reassured.“I’m gonna get you two back together, I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” You held out your pinky finger and Connor laughed through his tears, wrapping his pinky around yours.“So, I’m gonna talk to him and we’re definitely having a girls day tomorrow, okay? Give you time to get back to your fabulous self.”

“It’s a date.” He agreed, ruffling the curls on top of your head.


“Felix, we still need to talk!” You shouted as you made your way into your apartment, placing your purse down on the coffee table. “Felix?!”

You saw that he was missing from his usual spot on the couch and went to check the other rooms in the apartment to see if he was there or not. You told him while you were out earlier running errands that when you arrived back home, you’d have along talk about his relationship situation. You weren’t really too surprised to find out he went ghost on you tonight.

“Of course he leaves when we have to talk about Connor.” You said out loud, rolling your eyes in annoyance. As you went to enter your kitchen you stopped in your tracks after spotting several gifts on along the countertop. “The hell?”

There sat three dozen roses, a large bag, and two other boxes placed neatly on the marble isle. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you searched for a note or something regarding as to where this all came from. Your initial thought was that Felix went shopping and just so happened to buy roses since those were his favorite flowers, but you knew deep down exactly where this came from. As you finally found a small card tucked neatly in one of the roses, you couldn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face at the sight of his handwriting.

I’m sorry about what happened this morning and well I guess last night too. I don’t regret it, but I do apologize. Hope you can forgive me, princess. - Cal

You reread the note over and over again, soon allowing giggles to escape your lips. It was like you were in ninth grade with your first crush all over again. You smelled the roses and felt the softness of the petals along your fingertips. Then you suddenly felt extremely excited as you pulled the paper from the bag to reveal a new Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 and you squealed at the sight of it. How Calum remembered that you wanted this purse before everything went down, you had no idea. You even forgot that you wanted the purse. You gently placed it back into the bag before opening the larger box first which happened to be a large assortment of chocolate covered strawberries. There was another note tucked inside, but this one was computer generated letting you know it came shipped with them.

I remember you told me chocolate covered strawberries were “to die for” on our second date. Please don’t die, though :) - Cal xxx

“Idiot.” You mumbled out as you picked one up, moaning as the sweetness of the chocolate and strawberries juice filled your mouth.

You gasped as you saw that the third and last box contained a beautiful heart shaped pendant encrusted with diamonds around it. In the middle were the simple letters “C.H.” engraved in a beautiful cursive font.

“He didn’t.” You whined to yourself as you examined the necklace in disbelief.

You had always joked about getting his name on a necklace so that everyone could know you were his, but it was always all jokes to you. The necklace was cute, yet subtle. You really had to see the necklace up close to see the small letters and that’s exactly what you liked. Only you and a few people would actually know the true meaning of the necklace.

Before you could come to your senses and get over the elated feeling, you had your phone in you hand waiting for Calum to pick up his phone. Once the sound of his voice came through you grinned wider than you were before.

“It’s kinda hard to be mad at you and push you out of my life when you’re buying me gifts.”

“That’s good news, then.”

“Thank you, Cal.”

“It’s nothing, really. ” he blushed on the other side of the phone.“You deserve it after all I’ve put you through. I know it can’t make up for it, but it’s a start.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was an awkward silence until Calum broke it , attempting to make conversation.“ So…whatcha doin?”

“I just got home, I guess I was gonna shower.”

“Do you think we could uh…we could talk on the phone like we used to?” He questioned nervously.

“Where’s Nicole?”

“She’s not here. Are you seriously going to always bring her up?”

“I am.” You confirmed.

“When you told me you were petty, I didn’t take you serious.”

“Oh, I bet you wish you would’ve prepared yourself then.” You flopped onto your bed and leaned back against the multiple pillows that were placed at the head of it.

“Nah.”He chuckled.”I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

Run Away- Bucky x Reader

Authors Notes: Prep for the angst and Fluff y’all! lol

Prompt: @melconnor2007 I was wondering if you could do one where Bucky and the reader been dating, but nat refuses to believe he loves here and makes a move on Bucky, the reader sees, but runs away before she sees Bucky pushing nat off, the reader then leaves the tower with a note for Bucky telling him, but Bucky using his skills tracks her down, with lots of fluff at the end where he explains and tell reader how much he loves her, if that makes any sense at all, lol,

 Notes/Warnings: assumed cheating, angst, fluff, kissing

Originally posted by pxggycxrters

 Your life was bliss. Well, as blissful as it could be while being an Avenger. Bucky had been with the team just a year longer than you and from the day you arrived the two of you had hit it off. Just a few months ago Steve locked the two of you in the gym until it came out that you both had feelings for each other and the decision to be official was sealed with the kiss of your life. Since then you and Bucky were practically inseparable. Everyone at the compound agreed that the two of you belonged together.

 Everyone except Nat. She was good at hiding it, keeping her feelings in check is part of her skill set, but she just didn’t think you were right for him. She thought she should be in your shoes, in his arms. She was your friend though, or at least friend enough. She lied to you and told you how happy she was for you. She told you how perfect the two of you were together just to frown when your back was turned.

 Today she was over it, though. It had been four months of dating between you and you made cupcakes and he brought you flowers. It made her sick. She had a plan and was set to execute it as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and she had that planned, too.

Keep reading

cosmic-files-87  asked:

2/11/15 MSR for the angsty list....I know....I am an ass.... (but really!!!!! Please write that!!!!)

2 - I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.

11 - You can’t keep hurting me and then demand I apologize instead.

15 - You betrayed me.

Author’s Notes: Okay, this one hurts. Like a kick to the groin kind of hurt. I almost feel bad. It is high angst & will probably piss some of you off. If you proceed – you were warned. Post IWTB.

Two Weeks, Too Cold

It’s been two full weeks since she’s seen him.

She can’t remember the last time she went more than a day without hearing his voice – What’s up, Doc? – watching him as he watched her, or felt his broad chest against her back as he spooned her to sleep.

I won’t be coming home, she had said. Don’t do this, he had begged.

Scully keeps telling herself that she made a mistake by letting him kiss her as she stood in their front yard with tears rolling down her face, by entertaining the notion that they could ever hide from the darkness. It was cruel, she thinks, because even then she knew that she wouldn’t be coming back home.

Which isn’t exactly true, because she did come home, briefly, to gather a bag or two of her belongings. Her chest aches at the memory – of the desperate tears and of his voice breaking on each  I’m sorry and please don’t leave me.

That was two weeks ago. Two weeks that have been filled with work, because if she can’t help the man she loves then at least she can help a child breathe. Two weeks filled with too much coffee, because her fingers feel ice cold without his own interlaced with them. Too little sleep, because her skin trembles and aches without his hands there to gentle away the nightmares.

Two weeks, she has decided, is long enough.

I just want to see him, she tells herself as she guides her car onto the long gravel drive that leads to their shared home. The house is modest, but cozy. Most of all, it’s theirs. The few tangible things they’ve shared in the past have been wrenched away from them – but not their home. No blood to scrub out of the carpet, no taped X in the window to summon life-threatening information. It’s just home, and it’s theirs.

She steps out of her car into the crisp air of early morning to pull open the gate, and she smiles to herself. The ritual of it is comforting. Countless mornings and evenings have began and ended with opening this gate, letting herself back into the beautiful, private world she shares with Mulder.

Pulling into her spot in front of the house, she sees a strange car. She frowns curiously. Did he go out and buy a car after I left? She wouldn’t put it past him, except that it would require his actually leaving the house (and nothing short of a psychic priest has convinced him to do so thus far).

On her walk to the front door, her heart begins to hammer against her ribs at the thought of seeing him again.  It’s only been two weeks, she chides herself. Still, she expects that he may be angry. When he’s hurt, he tends to deflect – in his case, that means petulant withdrawal and an abundance of sarcasm.

She draws in a deep breath and unlocks the door. He may still be asleep, she realizes as she steps into quiet darkness. It’s just after five o’clock in the morning. Just because she hasn’t been able to rest doesn’t mean he can’t.

But oh, she’s finally home. She closes her eyes, relishing the smell of Mulder’s aftershave mingled with the scent of the roses he had delivered to her office just a week before those goddamned agents showed up at the hospital. She remembers bringing them home, carefully tucking them into a vase of water. They’re beautiful, she had told him. Not as beautiful as you, he had replied, his hand tucked against the small of her back.

“Who are you?”

Scully starts at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, opening her eyes to see a woman standing at the threshold where kitchen becomes living room.

A woman.

Tall. Brunette. Holding a glass of water. Wearing only a t-shirt and a confused expression.

“This is my house,” Scully says, the words scraping past a throat that has gone as dry as desert sand. “Who are you?”

The woman stares back, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt uncomfortably.

No, not her t-shirt. Mulder’s t-shirt. Scully’s favorite shirt that Mulder owns, because it’s soft and worn and somehow still smells like the cologne he wore the first time she slept in his arms, even after all these years.

I’m going to be sick, this is not happening, oh Mulder what is going on…

The woman finally speaks, clearing her throat. “He – he said he lived alone.”

I’ve wandered into the wrong house, Scully thinks numbly. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.

But no. That’s Mulder’s shirt, and that’s the drinking glass my mother gave to me when we moved here. That’s the couch where Mulder and I made love less than a month ago.

“Scully.”

This can’t be the wrong house, because that’s Mulder. He’s standing in front of her, and he’s not wearing my favorite shirt, he’s not wearing a shirt at all, and he looks terrified, and oh God I’m going to be sick…

“Mulder?” Her voice sounds tiny. Her hands are still freezing, but now her palms are sweating as her stomach churns. Please explain this, Mulder, she begs silently. Please please please please.

“Who is she?” When the other woman speaks again, Scully wants to scream at her. She has no right to ask that. Scully is the one who should be demanding an explanation. She’s the one who deserves an answer. Not this stranger, with her morning-after hair and her long smooth legs brushing the hem of Mulder’s shirt.

I’m going to be sick.

“Mulder?” This time, her voice is louder, sharper, less please tell me this isn’t what it looks like and more how fucking could you.

He doesn’t acknowledge the other woman’s inquiry, instead stepping toward Scully with his hand outstretched. “Scully,” he begins, and her name on his lips tells her all she needs to know. She’s heard him speak her names countless times – calling to her for help, playfully teasing her, comforting her in times of distress, moaning in ecstasy as she coaxes him to climax, even shouting in anger during a particularly intense argument.

Never – never – has he said her name with this desperate, helpless tone threaded through it.

The woman has disappeared, and Scully can hear her in the bedroom – our bedroom  – gathering her things, probably eager to get away from this house – our house – and whatever is about to happen between them.

Mulder moves forward, and she sees panic etched into the lines of his face.

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as the full realization of what’s happening settles over her. “No,” she chokes, swallowing against a throatful of stomach acid. “No, no, no.”

“I’m sorry, Scully, please let me explain.”

Her eyes fly open, and she wraps her arms around herself. “Explain?” Her voice catches on a sob. “What is there to explain?” She stares at his face, his beautiful face, and it’s more than she can take, his eyes full of regret. She backs away, grappling for the doorknob.

“Scully, don’t leave. Please.”

Two weeks, Mulder!” Her stomach aches, her head pounds, and I need to get out of here, this is not happening. “I was gone two fucking weeks!”

She is hot and cold at the same time, her clammy palms sliding against the doorknob as her fingers shake uncontrollably. She feels the heat of his body behind her, and oh God, she wants to lean into him, just to warm her hands, but nonononono, she has to leave, she cannot stay another minute in this house.

When he places a hand against her shoulder, her entire body recoils. “Get the hell away from me,” she gasps, her breaths coming in shorter spurts now, her lungs burning.

The doorknob finally relents, and she shoves against the door, stumbling outside where it’s still so cold, it’s not home, and she can’t breathe, and fuck you Mulder how dare you how fucking dare you.

He follows her across the yard. “Scully, please.”

She doesn’t break stride or respond. She’s almost to her car when she feels his hand catch the arm of her coat. She jerks free, but his grasp is lighter than she expected, and the heel of her boot slides against a leftover patch of ice. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have caught herself. The reflexes instilled in her all those years ago in FBI field training never failed her before, but she can’t even catch her breath so how is supposed to support her full weight?

Maybe she doesn’t even want to.

Her knee meets the ground with a sharp crunch, and she hisses in pain.

Immediately, Mulder is at her side. “Oh God,” he says, and reaches for her again. She slaps his hand away, and finally the tears she’s been fighting break through, streaming hot against her chilled face.

“In our bed, Mulder,” she says bitterly, leaning back against the tire of her car. “I was gone two weeks, and you fucked someone in my bed.” She tries to suck in a lungful of air, but is met with resistance when the breath halts on a sob. So this is what suffocation feels like.

“I was drunk,” he whispers miserably.

“When are you not?”

He flinches, but continues. “I don’t know what happened. Scully, I don’t even know her.”

“Where did you meet her, Mulder?” She glares through her tears. “All this time, while I’ve been working, have you just been out meeting women to bring back to our home? Our bed?”

“Of course not,” he breathes, staring at her in horror. “Never. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” she whispers brokenly. “I never believed you would do this. Not in a million years, Mulder.”

“Neither did I.“ His voice is pitiful and sincere.

She swallows thickly. “You betrayed me.”

He sinks all the way down beside her. “I know,” he says quietly. “I know, and I’m so sorry.” There is a heavy silence between them for a moment before he adds, “Scully, you left me.”

Scully shifts to face him, and grits her teeth against the pain that the motion sends shooting through her knee. “You’re unbelievable,” she spits venomously. “You screw another woman in my bed, on the sheets you bought for me on my last birthday, and you’re making this my fault?” She fumbles with the top of the tire, trying to pull herself to her feet.

“Scully, stop,” Mulder pleads. “You’re hurt – your leg.”

“You’re damn right I’m hurt,” she snaps. “And it has nothing to do with my leg.”

She gives up on standing for the moment. “You never answered my question,” she tells him, her eyes burning hot into his.

“What question?”

“Where did you meet her? I’ve never known you to socialize, but clearly, there are a few parts of your character I somehow missed in all our years together.”

He stares at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I went on a walk and ended up at a bar. It’s a couple miles down the road. I had more than I planned, and she – she offered to drive me home.”

Scully folds her arms tightly around her midsection. The tire is wreaking havoc on her back, but she barely notices.

“Classy, Mulder.” She closes her eyes again, but the tears fall anyway.

He sighs. “You left, Scully. You just left, and you wouldn’t return my calls. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.”

Scully tenses as another wave of nausea washes over her. “I left because you wouldn’t leave the house unless it was to spiral back into your fucking paranoid obsessions!” 

She covers her face with both hands. “You can’t keep doing this,” she sobs. “You can’t keep hurting me, and then demand that I apologize instead.”

“When have I done that?” His voice is laced with disbelief. “When have I ever done that, Scully?”

Fuck you Mulder fuck you fuck you fuck you –

“Fuck you,” she cries, gripping the edge of the tire again and heaving herself to her feet. “I don’t need you.” 

She ignores the throbbing in her knee when she puts weight on it. “I don’t need anyone,” she says, her voice breaking. “I think we both know I’ve survived greater losses.” She wrestles with her purse, digging for her keys. “But it’s fine. I don’t need any of you.”

Mulder touches her shoulder, and she shrugs him away again. “Don’t touch me.” She yanks her car door open. “I told you to get away from me.”

“Scully, I’m sorry,” he says weakly. “You may not need me, but I need you. I always have.”

“You didn’t need me last night,” she tosses back viciously as she forces key into ignition. “I can’t take care of you anymore, Mulder. Figure it out.”

He positions his body so that she is blocked from closing the door. “Scully,” he tries again, his voice echoing with despair. “I’m begging you. Please. You came back for a reason. Please don’t leave again.”

Her chin trembles as she answers him in a voice as brittle as dry ice. “I left for a reason, too.”

She grasps the door handle in her hand despite the remaining tremors. “Move.”

He slowly backs away, and at last she sees tears shining in his eyes. It’s too late, it’s too much this time, I can’t.

The sound of her slamming door causes him to jump. The pressure she places on her gas pedal makes her moan with pain as her knee protests the movement.

When she glances in her rearview mirror, she sees a tear-blurred image of her entire world, standing with his arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

He’s still not wearing a shirt, she realizes.

Go back inside, Mulder. It’s too cold out here.

I would know.

END.

Before you ask, yes, there will almost certainly be a follow-up.

Screwball Ninja’s Mini-Review: 6x16 Mother’s Little Helper

Oh, what a tangled web we weave/ When characterization takes its leave. Let’s dig in!

Originally posted by nothingholic-s

You can tell she’s evil because she farts glitter– that stuff gets everywhere!

  1. Things That Had More Screentime Than Belle This Episode: Blackbeard’s wig. Her Handsome Hero. Rumple’s dagger. Jaime Murray’s cleavage. CGI spider butt. Perhaps we could scare up some more scenes for Belle in an episode about her son where the theme is MOTHERHOOD? Look, she’s already wearing pants in a plea for attention– somebody give her a scene with Gideon before she’s parading around in leggings and a ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’ sweatshirt.
  2. I’m here for Small Business Owner S&M Jaime Murray in a sparkly black tutu. What is this show? And it’s interesting that fairy dust can be used for evil (e.g., creating the Dark Curse) and needs to be a Category 1 Controlled Substance. No wonder the Blue Fairy smacked down Nova for loaning it willy-nilly in S1. I guess the price for fairy dust is slave labor (children, dwarves)? That’s dark, show. “Excuse me, Mr. Gold? Is this fairy dust conflict-free? Because I only use– *is snailed*
  3. Dark Swan is back, folks. Emma force-choked and beat an unarmed, unresisting man who was talking to her about his history of abuse because she was angry about losing her boyfriend for a day. “YOU TOOK HOOK FROM ME,” says Emma in her exact Dark Swan throaty tone. Force-choking is *never* shown as something good or justifiable– and it’s always shown as the sole provenance of villains. (They call it ‘Vader-ing’ in the script.) She’s law enforcement– you can’t beat up suspects because you’re upset! You can’t threaten to “force” people to do things! S1!Emma would have asked Gideon WHY he wanted to kill her before any fisticuffs, and she certainly wouldn’t have made him bleed while he was talking to her. This scene also makes it sound like Emma is more pissed off that Gideon cockblocked her than about his murder attempt. Priorities, woman! (Note: This was done on purpose to put our sympathies with Gideon– hence his line that Emma was “so far wrong” and that he wasn’t “the bad guy.” Gideon’s not all bad, Emma’s not all good: message received. But it’s fascinating to see Dark Swan pop up again without the excuse of The Darkness ™ .)
  4. Gideon says that the Black Fairy tortured him and he’s trying to protect “hundreds” of abused children in another realm. Emma’s response? Going to Rumple and … threatening to kill Gideon. “Your son has a death wish, one that I’m happy to provide.” What the everliving fuck? Rumple has to spell out that the Black Fairy is Bad News and may be a direct threat to Emma before she thinks to help Gideon. “Not my family? Not my problem!” is a legitimate philosophy … but not if you’re The Savior, and not if you’re the Sheriff. Emma even makes a deal (more Dark Swan-age) with Gideon to get Hook back BEFORE she helps with the Black Fairy business. I realize it makes sense to lift any magical barriers before embarking on a dangerous enterprise but it makes it look like she cares more about Hook than an entire realm full of abused kids. If this is “walls down” Emma someone *poof* her some bricks, mortar, and an enchanted trowel because I’m not here for this.
  5. Speaking of Hook, does OUAT have a writers room? You know, a room for the writers to talk to one another about what’s happening from episode to episode? Because this episode takes place one minute after last week’s episode, where Emma shed two tiny tears because that’s what she “needed to move on.” And now she’s beating up a child she helped deliver a week ago because she can’t be without Hook for literally a day? Which is it, show? 
  6. Hook is an adult who’s survived for hundreds of years and is in a realm he used to call home. He’s not hurt, he’s not cursed, he’s not threatened– he’s just on a bit of a vacation. You know, a break– what Emma wanted him to have until he got his head right about the whole lying business. So where’s the fire? Also, Blackbeard assumed Hook stole the jewels from a “wench”– is this something Hook did before? (Have fun with the inevitable JewelThief!Hook and FBI!Emma fic, CS fans!) P.S. BLACKBEARD SHOUTS TOO. MAYBE IT’S JUST A PIRATE THING? I AM HERE FOR THEIR HARD OF HEARING FRIENDSHIP!
  7. And normal Emma returns when the giant spider shows up! Yay! (Any scene that has Emma quipping about Charlotte’s Web while pretending to be in a life-and-death struggle with dollar store Haunted House webbing is a good one in my book.) Gideon apologizes for screwing with her instead of just asking for help. Yay! And then he double-crosses her because he thinks the ends justifies the means. Boo! But he’s heart-controlled! Gasp! Note that Gideon’s contractually obligated to do his premature gloating away from the scene of the crime, giving Emma time to escape with Rumple’s help. Villain rules, folks– if you disobey they take away your black cloak and make you wear pastels for a week. Also, props to the Black Fairy for not spilling her Secret Evil Plan to anyone yet. Next-level evil, for sure.
  8. “I’m sorry, but your son cannot be saved. He’s evil,” says Emma. Excuse me? One fairy coma, giant spider, and piratical banishment and he’s irredeemable? This is a show where mass-murderer and child abuser Cora went to heaven after telling her daughters to play nicely for five minutes after she was DEAD. Split!EQ killed three peasants, cursed Snowing, threatened to poison the town’s water supply, and sped up Belle’s pregnancy leading to Belle’s son being kidnapped– and got a “fresh start” in another realm. Hook killed Merlin and tried to kill Emma’s whole family last month but that’s “in the past.” But Gideon tries to kill one person to save hundreds of abused children and he’s beyond the pale? Ahahaha, no. Also, he’s *spoiler alert* heart-controlled. Boy, won’t Emma feel silly when she learns that. "He needs help!” says Rumple. “LOL nope,” says Emma. And then Rumbelle gave them epic side-eye and held hands (and gave the fandom heart attacks; it’s been a rough year).
  9. Neverland “must have transformed when Pan left!” To … Vancouver. Truly, Dark Magic. In S3 it sounded like without magic the entire realm was going to literally explode but you know what? Gangly teens carrying torches running around Neverland-cum-Vancouver beaches are not the most ridiculous thing in this episode, never mind the show. Carry on, fellas. 
  10. I’m oddly with Isaac the Author when he complained about his imprisonment. He created the AU but he didn’t actually kill anyone– and considering Regina, Snowing, Zelena, Hook, and Emma have cast Dark Curses and are running around free he’s right that being terminally annoying isn’t really grounds for perpetual incarceration. He should join King George and Sidney in their class action lawsuit against the Storybrooke Police. Calling it now: S7 is Law and Order: Storybrooke.
  11. Being The Author causes you to write gibberish and it gets worse the longer it goes on? That explains the show! “What happens at the end of the book?” asks Henry. The Author replies: “The Savior fights the Final Battle– and trust me, no-one wants to be around to see that!” Well, with these ratings no-one will be. #BaDumChh
A Supercorp First: Star Wars and Alderaan (aka Supercorp hurt/comfort)

prompt from @apollosfakebitch: “ lena and kara watching a new hope and lena realizing waaaay too late about alderaan and what it’s like for kara to see it”     


Kara is the only important person in Winn’s life that he hasn’t forced to sit down and watch Star Wars marathons with him.

James corralled Alex to sit through it with him – “you’re my only hope,” he’d told her, and she’d furrowed her brow in confusion until Leia said it in the film, at which point she smacked him lightly on the head – last year, and though she’d hemmed and hawed, Winn promised an endless supply of pizza and ice cream, and Kara was away on a mission with Hank, and Alex didn’t want to admit it, but she was lonely, so she’d been, as Winn called it, initiated.

Winn invites Maggie for a marathon a couple months after he meets her, and Alex just pats her on the arm and wishes her luck, but Maggie is excited as all get-out about the damn thing.

But Kara?

Winn never invites Kara to these Star Wars screenings. (Except when he’s rewatching the newer trilogy. Then she’s got no excuse.)

He never invites her because he might act silly, but he’s not. He’s deeply thoughtful.

He’s deeply thoughtful and he knows what watching Alderaan get destroyed might do to Kara, who struggled even with Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy because it was based, even in its hilarity, on the destruction of an entire planet.

But Lena? Lena’s never seen Star Wars, and when she and Kara have been dating for a couple of months, Winn invites her, too.

But she’s still insecure – somewhat – around Kara’s friends. She still doesn’t know quite how to act with this ragtag group who save the world in jeans and polos and who love each other beyond anything she’s ever known in her life.

She’s still insecure, so – unbeknownst to Winn – she asks Kara to watch the original trilogy with her before she sees it with Winn, so she doesn’t come off as quite so ignorant of cultural landmarks.

(She doesn’t know, yet, that Winn would more than understand her explanation for never having seen the movies, since Lilian considered them ‘a frivolous waste of time for a girl who needs to focus on her studies, on becoming a woman, on living up to the family name, impossible as that will prove for such a worthless child.’)

So they settle in with popcorn and donuts and potstickers and and wine and pizza and kombucha – Lena is always amused by Kara’s eclectic meal choices, but always fully supportive of them – and Lena relishes the way Kara’s arm wraps around her shoulders.

The way Kara’s heartbeat thrums steadily under her ear.

The way Kara never pauses the movie, but whispers in her ear in between dialogue about how surprisingly accurate some of it is, how surprisingly inaccurate other parts are, about ‘R2D2 and C3PO kind of remind me of Kelex – they used to be everywhere at home. I miss them sometimes. Okay, actually, a lot,” and Lena makes a note to research AI robots as soon as she gets a chance.

The way Kara strokes her hair constantly and pulls her closer every time someone gets shot, even the Stormtroopers, and Lena loves her all the more for empathizing with the enemy.

But then Vader brings Leia to Tarkin, and he calmly tells her that she is responsible for which planet the Death Star will destroy first, and Kara stiffens, and Lena straightens in her arms, sitting up fully so she can watch Kara’s face as Leia begs for the survival of her weaponless planet – the first time her cool sass and iron bravery is disturbed – and Lena leans across the piles of food to reach for the remote.

Kara stills her hand without looking at her, her wide eyes fixed on the screen. Lena and Kara both flinch as Tarkin backs Leia up into Vader’s armored chest, both knowing what it feels like to have men standing over them like that, backing them up like that, trying to control them like that.

But Kara also knows Leia’s dread, Leia’s pain, Leia’s panic.

Because her planet is gone, too.

“Kara,” Lena tries softly, but Kara shakes her head resolutely, her eyes still transfixed on the screen, relief and agony flooding her face when a defeated-looking Leia murmurs the supposed location of the base.

Kara shouts out, along with Leia, when Tarkin gives the order to destroy Leia’s entire planet, her entire people, regardless of her cooperation, and Lena flinches slightly at the sudden sound, but she reminds herself that it’s Kara, just Kara, and Kara’s in pain.

And Kara slams off the TV just as primary ignition is commencing, because she can’t, she can’t, she can’t.

Lena puts a tentative hand on Kara’s thigh and watches her quietly, watches her waiting.

“So that’s why Winn never made me watch with him. Why Alex didn’t want to watch it with me when we were kids.”

“Kara, I’m so sorry. I’ve never seen it before, I didn’t know – “

“I’m not angry at you, Lena.”

“I know, but I still feel terribly – “

“Don’t. I’m sorry. I ruined the movie, our date – “ she thrusts her arms out disjointedly at the dimmed lights and food and wine around them – “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this, you deserve someone… normal, someone… human.”

Lena’s heart breaks and her eyes flash, and she kneels in front of Kara before she can rise and walk away; kneels in front of her and frames her face in her hands, a stern, sad, loving look on her face.

“Kara Danvers. You’re right, I don’t deserve this. Deserve you. But not because you‘re Kryptonian, and not because you have scars. I don’t deserve you because of how you bear those scars: you’re beautiful, Kara, and I don’t only mean on the outside. You somehow don’t hate the world, hate people, even though…” She glances back at the now dark TV screen. “Even though the world – worlds – have given you every reason to. And that… you… you’re brave and you’re kind, and you’re everything I want and nothing I deserve, Kara. So please, don’t apologize for who you are. For what… hurts you. You never have to apologize to me. Alright?”

“Lena,” is all Kara can choke, and Lena can’t carry her to bed, but she can hold her, and she can wrap her in her arms and burrow them both deep into the throw blankets, and she can wipe her tears with her fingers, her lips, and she can whisper wordlessly into her ears as her chest wracks with sobs, as her entire body shakes with grief.

She can, and she does.

And when Kara finally cries herself to sleep, Lena stays awake, guarding her from nightmares until nearly sunrise.

And when Kara wakes, still wrapped in Lena’s arms, her eyes swollen and her head sore, and she looks at how hard Lena is sleeping, even in an awkward, semi-upright position on the couch, she knows Lena must have stayed up all night watching her sleep – protecting her – and she smiles softly, because she knows that she might not have her birth planet, but she certainly has love.

Always her.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Amara

Warnings: Angst

Words Count: 962

Author’s Note: Songfic required by this splendor >> @chaos-and-the-calm67
The song is “The Best of My Love” by Eagles.
I hope you like it!

Amara.
This was the name tortured the Dean’s thoughts. It had been weeks by now, since that woman had put her lips on those of Dean. And he hadn’t pulled away; he wanted Amara not kiss him, but he felt something inside him, over his body, over his mind, keeping him from getting away from her.
But when the woman turned away from Dean, the hunter felt something different, like.. remorse. He shouldn’t have accepted the kiss of Amara, she was the enemy. And then.. Dean tried to remember something.. someone.
Y/n.
She was there, while Dean was in the arms of Amara, watching the scene helplessly. When Dean turned around, he met her eyes, destroyed by grief, full of tears. Y/n said nothing at the time, and she said no more in the days following.
Dean felt at pieces; he and y/n.. there was a special relationship between them. Dean loved her, and she loved Dean. But since the Mark of Cain was gone, and they had liberated Amara, the hunter did nothing but think of the wrong woman. And he was angry with Amara, with Cain for giving him that stupid Mark, with Metatron who had killed him.. but Dean basically, he knew that the fault was only himself to. It was he who had decided to take the Mark, it was he who had gone to meet death fighting with Metratron, and it was he who had turned into a demon, into a monster. And despite everything, y/n was always there at his side. She had never given up, because the love that she felt for him was too strong.
Dean tried to close his eyes, and dream y/n, how happy they were, first of all that mess.
But Dean could only think of the pain he was causing to the girl; He was thinking how should feel y/n, on the other side of the wall, in her bed. He heard her crying every night, and what could be done Dean, if the cause of those tears was himself?

Every night I’m lyin’ in bed
Holdin’ you close in my dreams
Thinkin’ about all the things that we said
And comin’ apart at the seams

Suddenly Dean thought back to when a few days before, he had finally got the courage to talk to y/n, explain her how he felt, to apologize for what he had done, how he felt weak and useless in that moment, because he couldn’t , he couldn’t do anything to comfort her.
Y/n began to cry, and she couldn’t help but scream all that felt toward Dean, the disappointment for what she had seen, the pain of betrayal, the fact that despite everything she couldn’t not love him.

We try to talk it over
But the words come out to rough
I know you were tryin’
to give me the best of your love

Dean expelled the bad memory from his head; he only had the desire to remember y/n when she was happy with him, when nothing and no one would have divided them. Dean remembered the days when he and she were traveling in the Impala, riding around the world, with the windows open, the wind that caressed their faces. Dean looked y/n like a delicate flower, that she needed protection, he wanted to protect her at any cost. Dean remembered those moments with her between the sheets, when they made love passionately, while both declared their love to each other.

I’m goin’ back in time
And it’s a sweet dream
It was a quiet night
And I would be all right
If i could go on sleepin’

But by now those were only distant memories; in his bed, Dean turned between the sheets. He was tired of that situation. He opened his eyes, and in the darkness of his room, he decided to get up. Walking quietly in the corridors of the bunker, he noticed that the door of the y/n’s room was open; Dean came up, and he noticed that the girl was not there.
The hunter continued to wander around the bunker, until he saw the library lit; he entered in the enormous room, and Dean saw her.
Y/n was standing with a book in her hands, as she went back and forth in silence. Suddenly, the girl turned to Dean, noticing his presence.
Dean looked at her, saw her eyes dull, her tired body, but also for him at that time, she was beautiful, and he loved her; even with Amara in thought to torment him, he couldn’t forget the woman he really loved. Y/n.
“Dean, what are you doing here?”
Y/n’s voice relaxed him; it was for days that he didn’t hear her, and those few words, had revitalized him.
“Someone told me to follow my heart.” Dean said, and striding, he walked over to y/n and kissed her. He kissed her urgently, and despair. He moved closer to himself, with the hope that y/n not away from her.
Dean was surprised when he saw that the girl didn’t pushed him away. She wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck, and pulled him even closer to her, eager to have him in her arms.
And in that moment Dean just wanted to have her for himself, make it clear to her that she was the one for him. He wanted to make it clear to her that despite his mistakes, although there was also Amara in his mind, for Dean y/n would be always come first. Dean would always love her.

You know we always had each other baby
I guess that wasn’t enough
Oh, but here in my heart
I give you the best of my love
Oh, sweet darlin’
You get the best of my love..

Captive

Chapter Ten“Beauty and the Beast”

SUMMARY: You were held captive by Hydra for years and had only just escaped when the Avengers find you. You’re beyond terrified of everyone and everything around you, but the thing the terrifies you the most is yourself. The things you can do with your “abilities” are beyond what anyone could possibly imagine.

Chapters: 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 8 ~ 9a ~ 9b 

Word Count: 2774
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, angst. 

A/N: I’m gonna try this out without the tags because I feel like they look a lil’ sloppy, but I’ll be doing them on select fics! 

Originally posted by maiden-marvel

The day went by slowly after that, Bucky had locked himself away in his room, and you wanted nothing more than to go to him and apologize. You didn’t mean for him to take what you said literally. The Tower was your home, the people in it were your friends, and they loved you whether you believed it or not. And you loved them more than you could express with words or actions.

They saved you, from yourself, from Hydra, from your mother…

How could you have been so inconsiderate? So childish?

Keep reading

17, Again - Chapter 03

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst (In that order)

Word count: 21.026

Summary: You go on vacation with Jungkook and things turn unexpected.

Author´s note: This is inspired by the Chinese version of the movie “17 again”. Although this story is going to be quite different I recommend not watching the film if you don´t want to spoil yourself anything that could happen in this fic.

Note: She´s 17 all through this chapter.

Warnings: graphic smut.

Here it is, the 20k + chapter no one asked for. I worked really hard so please give it some love. Also if there´s any mistakes or typos please tell me because I wrote this whie being sick.

Jungkook was an exceptionally private person. He had immediately declined your petition of helping him pack with an indirect statement, saying you should go through your own things instead to make sure you weren´t forgetting anything. You didn´t know where such radical distrust came from, but you were not in the right position to protest as that had been the closest he had come to communication in the last forty eight hours. He was extremely tired and, in a way, so were you.

The ride to the airport had been completely silent, but not necessarily a discomforting one. Maybe sleep could value as an excuse for all the unspoken words, maybe there really was nothing to say. After all, you never knew when the two of you were in good terms or when was he too annoyed to bear with your temper tantrums. By now it was clear that he was willing to try and that he cared about you. The fact that he didn´t show it was a whole different story, one you couldn´t blame him for.

“Would you stop looking at my passport photo?” Jungkook asked in annoyance as he watched you caress the picture with one of your fingers “You didn´t let me see yours”

His words surprised you a bit, but you were quick to react before he could realize how much him taking notice of your actions was affecting you, how his eyes lingering on your hands was enough to make your heart skip a bit.

“Sorry for worrying about your opinion about me” you sarcastically apologized while giving him the document back, your lips suddenly pouting “I look awful in that picture”

Keep reading

All I Wanted; C.H. 24

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10**, part 11*, part 12*, part 13, part 14, part 15**, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 23

Harry offered to come inside with me – but I reluctantly declined. I knew what would have happened if he had come inside, and I would’ve regretted it first thing in the morning. We did spend more than an hour in the car, talking about what I’ve gotten myself into, about Calum, about Meredith. It has become quite clear what was next on my to-do list. Talk with Meredith.

It was something I had been avoiding ever since this had started, so I wasn’t too keen on doing it right now either. The morning after left even a worse aftertaste and I didn’t think it were possible. I had spent the entire night mauling over everything Calum had ever said or done leading up to this moment. Searching for an indication somewhere that I had misread any signal Calum had sent me, anything that could imply that it was all in my head and I thought that he was interested in me like that, but came up empty-handed.

When I decided it was time to be part of reality again, and I checked my phone, messages of Harry, Luke and Calum had littered my lock screen. I decide to thank Harry and apologize for not answering his ‘I’m home’ message. After everything he has done for me in such a short period, which mainly means listening to me whine, drive me home and be there when I’m a sobbing mess, even if we were only mere friends with benefits when this special friendship begun, I owed him a lot.

I make a mental note of thinking of a way to thank him properly, rather than a lame-ass text at noon. Next up is Luke, and I think after my rather panic text messages I do owe him some sort of explanation. My eyes skim over the three messages I had received within the course of half an hour, sent at nine A.M.

As soon as my pointer finger presses send, and I drop myself back down on my soft pillow, contemplating even glancing at Calum’s text messages, my phone loudly rings through the otherwise empty bedroom. I groan, rolling onto my side again to see who it is needed me. Luke

“Yeah?”
“You are fucking with me; please tell me you’re fucking with me?” Luke almost growls into the receiver and I let a short, boisterous chuckle slip past my lips as I snuggle back underneath my warm, thick duvet. “I wish I could tell you I’m just mind fucking you, but I think Calum was doing that all along.” My laughter dies out. I’m staring at the ceiling. I don’t know what it is I’m feeling – yesterday I was angry, sad and depressed all the same. But today, it sort of feels as if I felt nothing.

“Are you… Well, are you okay?” Luke mumbles and I can just picture him rubbing his hand over his face in utter desperation. That’s where I was last night too, buddy.

“I think I am. At least I will be. Who is Dennis anyway?” I just couldn’t grasp the fact that after all these years walking in and out of de Hood residence, never once in my life had I heard about this Dennis character. “Dennis? Was that the guy Calum picked up?”

I hum in response, picking up the nervous habit of chewing my fingernails once more as I wait for Luke to clarify this mess for me. “I haven’t heard from him in years. He’s a bit of a weirdo, to be honest. Was into drugs and what not before he met his girlfriend. Then he sort of disappeared.”

“So he resurfaced because his girlfriend left him? And Calum just jumps to his help although he hadn’t heard from him in years?” I scoff. I scramble out of my bed as I wait for Luke’s response, throwing a nearby sweat shirt over my head.

“You know how Calum is. He just wants to be there for… Well, apparently anybody.” Luke sighs loudly and I just know he’ll give Calum hell for what he has done last night, even if Luke and Calum had been mates practically since birth and I had just waltzed in mere months ago. “Apparently so.”
“I’ll talk to him.”

“Do whatever floats your boat. Right now there’s nothing he can do to make this up to me. You can try and convince me that it was just Calum being a great friend – but he could’ve fucking told me. I have never felt more humiliated in my life. And yes, before you even try to say anything – I was privileged.” I laugh, shaking my head as I try to see at least a bit of the light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like such a whiny bastard lately.

“You’re something, Y/n. If you need a chat, ring me up.” With another thank you directed towards Luke, we end or rather revealing phone call. I open my message app and start up a new chat.
Hi, wanna go for a drink?

*****************

“It sounded like you were breaking up with me or something.” Meredith chuckles as she sees me approaching the table she had picked out. A laugh slips past my lips as I bend down to press them against Meredith’s cheek.

“You’re too dramatic. I just missed my best friend, that’s all. But I do have something to tell you.” I drop down in front of her, starting to undress as I fling my scarf on a nearby chair.
“And you’re saying I’m dramatic? The only thing missing is thunder in the distance and some ominous melody playing.” Meredith chuckles as she waves one of the waiters over for my order.

“So tell me. What’s up?” Meredith starts as a cup of coffee is placed in front of me and I sigh out. I’ve decided to start with the less obvious news. “Harry and I are speaking again.”
Meredith’s eyebrows shoot sky high as she tries to suppress her smirk. Meredith, when Harry and I were seeing each other, had tried to do everything and anything to get us together romantically. Harry and I, on the other hand, had agreed in the beginning of it all that when one of us wanted this to become more, we’d quit whatever we were doing. I am certain neither of us where in it for the cuddles afterwards.

“Don’t even go there, Mer. It’s different.” I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my cup, my eyes following an old lady a she passes us by before refocusing back on my friend in front of me. “Ah, that’s what they all say.”

I open up to her and told her about our kiss, about that he was interested in picking up where we left off, and me not knowing what to do. I wanted her opinion, her advice. That would’ve been a lot easier if I could just tell her ’oh, but I’ve been shagging your brother as well and he fucked up a date and now I’m avoiding him like the pest.’. Since I can’t, I’ll have to deal with her advice to a partial story. Who knows, maybe it’ll help anyhow.

“And… What’s stopping you?” Yeah, I didn’t think this through, did I?

“I don’t know. Harry has been someone to fall back on and to be honest I might be in a place where I do develop feelings towards him if he keeps catching me whenever I fall.” I shrug my shoulders, leaning back as I let my eyes slowly drop closed, hearing Meredith sigh. I’m hyperaware of all that’s happening around me, listening in to the conversations of people surrounding us.

“If I were you, maybe I should just ask him to go on a date and see how it goes. I’m sure Harry would be interested in that as well. He’s been nuts about you for years now.” I take a deep breath, because that isn’t really something I consider myself ready for. If Calum wasn’t anywhere near the picture, Harry would’ve definitely gotten his chance now. Although I am not quite sure if I would’ve seen and spoken to Harry again if it weren’t for Calum.

“I’ll see. I really don’t fancy that idea right now.” I laugh heartily. My heart stops and I feel a lump in my throat as Meredith suddenly discards our conversation.
“Calum, Mike, hey!”

I stay frozen in my spot as Michael comes into view to press his lips to his awaiting girlfriend. I almost squeal when I feel a hand land on my shoulder and squeezing it gently. As I let my gaze wander upwards I notice Luke looming over me with a sympathetic smile etched on his lips.
“HI Y/n, how are you?”

“Oh hey Luke, I’ll live, yourself?” Luke hums in response and he leans against my seat as I turn my body a bit so I could converse a bit more properly with the blonde, but Meredith beats me to it.
“Oh my god, Mikey, Y/n is going on a date with Harry!” My eyes widen dramatically and when I look away from Luke to throw a glare in Meredith’s direction, I see Calum with a widened glare staring in my direction. His lips are tightly pressed together and just seeing him here brings another wave of anger and sadness to the surface.

“Mer, I –“

“Harry Styles? That guy that hangs out with Hardy and Jacobs?” Michael asks and Luke raises an eyebrow at me as his smirk seeps through. I shrug my shoulders as a small, awkward smile etches onto my lips. Luke knew what was up and I think he knew I wasn’t going on a date with Harry anytime soon with Calum still cluttering my mind.

“Harry Styles eh? How did that happen?” Luke grins as he lets both of his hands fall on my shoulders and he squeezes them repeatedly. “Luke – stop.” I laugh, trying to push him off and he immediately takes a step back when Calum’s low voice chimes through the area.

“Luke, you don’t want to keep the girls waiting, do you?” Calum cocks an eyebrow and for just a split second, his gaze meets mine and I can see hurt. But it disappears as quickly as it appeared. I think I actually felt my heart breaking when I heard Calum utter those words. Michael has already kissed Meredith goodbye and leisurely walks over to Calum as I turn to Luke for an explanation, anything.

“Y/n I – “ Luke starts of rambling, as if there’s something he desperately wants to tell me, but Calum is quick to shut him up.
“Luke. Now.” With a tight lipped grin Luke steps away from me and towards Calum and Michael who have already started heading in the direction of the pub. He looks back once more and mouths ‘later’, before he turns back around and jogs off behind Calum and Michael.

“I just knew Calum couldn’t stick to one girl.” Meredith sighs as she drops her spoon into her coffee cup, little droplets splattering the table. I knew it too, I just hoped I was wrong.

things maybe those other novelization posts missed

there’s been a couple of posts about the novelization highlights going around but whatever the world needs my thoughts right????

really just a rehash of my livetweeting sometimes direct copy and paste but whatever. LMAO THIS IS LIKE 5 PAGES LONG WELP SORRY FRIENDS. 

  • Even the excerpts from the rogue one novelization have not prepared me for the utter DRAMA that is cassian andor in this book omg
  • everything about bodhi rook made me cry. HE DOUBTS HIMSELF. THE ONLY THING HE’S SURE OF IS THAT HE’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
  • WHEN JYN IS AT THE LABOR CAMP JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR SHE’D “RUN OUT OF FRIENDS.” SHE WAS WAITING TO DIE. HER CELLMATE HAD EVEN SAID SHE WAS GOING TO KILL HER AND JYN WAS LIKE “eh, the fight will at least be entertaining. I’m pretty bored so”
  • Hi. Just wanted to let you know that after Cassian said like 10 words to Jyn, she was imagining them on a date.
  • Jyn also is careful to try and shield cassian from a blast in Jedha city like you know just for safety and stuff. And standing close to each other. SAFETY THO.
  • Cassian: I’m cold, I bet Jyn’s cold. I’m tired, she’s probably exhausted. She beat the shit out of those guys, IS SHE CONCUSSED? CHILL, BUD
  • the. entire. time.
  • cassian really cannot stop thinking about jyn and how she’s fucking up his job/mission/life AND YET
  • the thing is CASSIAN IS VERY GOOD AT HIS JOB AS AN INTELLIGENCE OFFICER. he’s wildly good at it. and he’s sharp. so smart. the book constantly shows him sifting through his mental catalog of info he’s VERY SMART AND VERY PROFICIENT AT HIS JOB

Keep reading

Leave Mandie Alone

I can tell you why you should. I can speak from personal experience as to why you all need to take a huge step back and fuck right on off if you can’t handle a few mistakes.

Let me tell you my story.

I have a deviantart (DA) account. Many, many years ago, at least 5 or 6, I started working as a moderator in a group. Eventually, I ended up taking over the group and am now the founder, i.e, the owner, i.e, the boss, and I have been, for about… umm… maybe… 4 years now.

That’s all well and good, but I stopped using DA around the same time. That is to say, that this group is literally the ONLY reason I even bother to log onto DA anymore. That is literally IT.

And I get it… I could let the group die. Nobody could do anything, the old owner checks in sometimes and is still surprised it’s running. Really, nobody asked me to keep maintaining the group. But I feel obligated to, because I know people enjoy and benefit from it. Much like Mandie, I get no personal benefit for doing that. I don’t get paid. I don’t get any rewards. All I get in return is the occasional person commenting that they are glad the group exists. THAT IS IT.

That being said, however, I don’t owe anybody shit. And neither does Mandie. But people LOVE to act like we admins owe our patrons our ass on a silver platter simply for using our service, in this case the maintenance of a group/tumblr. Let me explain. 

In this group, because it’s on DA, it runs off of submissions. People draw art, post it, and submit it to my group for review. For the longest time, I did it all by myself because having extra mods wasn’t working out. This led to the backlog of submissions stretching out to a month behind schedule, and in some instances submissions would just expire because I didn’t get to them in time.

Additionally, because of how many deviations I had to review, it was easier and far quicker to just glance at the thumbnail and vote it through or deny it based on what I saw. There’s not a not of detail in a thumbnail, where the art is shrunk.

Oh, did I mention? My group is strictly SFW.

Things I have had happen in my group:

- One user absolutely flipped her lid and went apeshit on me because I had accepted a deviation of an MLP character where you could see the silhouette of a clothed nipple. Barely noticeable when viewed on the page, absolutely nonexistent on a thumbnail. Didn’t stop her from ripping me a new asshole over it. Apparently she had an issue with ANYTHING relating to sex - which is fine, I get it, I know why these things happen. Did not stop her from being a total bitch and telling me I had no business running the group. Ironically had a photo of a blue waffle as her profile picture - didn’t respond but did change it when I couldn’t resist informing her what it was alluding to (left a Wikipedia link as so to inform her as gently as possible).

- had another guy tell me how to do my “job”. Would constantly note the group with submissions he felt were unacceptable for the group. Some were justified, most not. He ended up running around to other users, mini modding them and telling THE ARTIST DIRECTLY on the “groups behalf” they had no business putting their art in my group. Had to run after him and clean up, apologize to the artists, told him not to mini mod, but he kept doing it. Would only stop and ended up leaving the group once I refused to remove a submission he didn’t like after repeatedly arguing with me over it.

- was having an issue with the old owner coming back and voting things through differently than the way I had run things now - ended up having an angry user in my inbox demanding to know why her submission was declined when similar ones had been accepted. Didn’t like my answer explaining that the others shouldn’t have been accepted either and that we were having admin issues. Left the group.

- had to close down the featured folder because people won’t read the rules, they’ll just constantly submit to it instead of the proper folder. Closing it was the only way to get people to pretend to read.

- people that constantly submit things that are clearly against the rules- it’s not even hard rules, it’s things like “no commission information, adoptables, or sales allowed!” And yet getting nothing but pages of YCHs.

Those are just the main stories that I can think of right now, over the years I’ve had so many I could write a novel. And that’s just a stupid group on DA.

You all that are whining about Mandie, and throwing nothing but complaints, I’m so tired of all of your ignorant, crusty asses. If you think things are wrong, leave. Nobody will miss you, just like nobody misses the customer that says they’ll never be back. You don’t need to stomp your feet and cry until you get what you want just because one thing is wrong.

If you think you can do better, create another blog and do better. It’s easy until you get popular and your volume of submissions explodes out the ass. It’s easy to sift through every submission until you have hundreds to look through, all the while you have a job/school/baby/etc AND while people are sitting there bitching your head off because “why wasn’t my story posted???? Weehhhhhh.”

Nobody owes you anything.

There’s a difference between making legitimate complaints and bringing legitimate issues to the admin. But here’s a protip for you - if you’re running the owner off the blog, you’re doing it wrong.

Weakness

Originally posted by effindivergenteric

Prompt 7: Eric Coulter

“You know they’re gonna use things you love against you.”

notes: 

Y/N- your name

h/c- hair color

Tagging- @wynterrobin (bit different from what I usually write, but I still hope you like it!)

Honestly, I have no idea where this went but I hope you like it.


He watched her take down an initiate without mercy, while she grinned widely at her victory. “You cannot expect brute strength to always be your ally. They bigger they are the harder they fall.” She reached a hand down to the stout initiate smiling at him. “No hard feelings?”

“What’s the point of knocking him on his ass, then asking no hard feelings,” He called, stalking toward the group, grinning internally at the fear across multiple faces. “Don’t tell me you feel bad?”

Eric felt his chest constrict while she stared up at him, no traces of fear on her face. She smiled at him, before turning back to the initiate helping him up. “No, I don’t feel bad. It happens in training. Four, you ready?”

He watched his enemy nod, before he turned back to her. She stepped back to the center of the mat. “Coulter, if you’re not going to help, get off the mat.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “I’m starting to want you to make me Y/N.”

“I don’t wanna embarrass you Coulter. After all, I was only a point behind you,” She smirked, gesturing for him to move.

“A point which means you still don’t measure up to me. Are you sure you should be teaching this class,” Eric crossed his arms, trying to undermine her.

She still held that smirk on her face and she showed no sign of anger. “The only reason your questioning my authority Coulter, is because you don’t like the way I’m doing things. You think I’m being too soft. You want to fight, but I’m not going to sink down to that. Now get off the mat.”

He held her gaze, while the initiates shuffled nervously.

Eric grinned, before stepping to the side of the mat. One thing he loved more than anything was to try and ruffle her feathers, but he could never seem to get her angry enough. She brushed aside his comments and harsh demeanor never sinking down to yell or argue with him.

“Y/N you take the six and I’ll take the other six,” Four pushed past Eric roughly taking the fearful initiates. Eric sent a glare towards Four, before turning back to the girl who was already beginning her own lesson.  

“Alright, get into pairs of two,” She commanded, while the initiates scrambled to get together.


“Shower up, eat and get some rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” She called to them while Eric came up behind her wrapping his arms around her. “Must you always be an ass.”

She elbowed him off of her, before walking over to the mat. “You’re not upset at me Y/N.”

“Of course not. I mean why would someone I love keep telling me that I don’t measure up to him. That requires no anger at all,” She sighed, before unwrapping her fists. “I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’ll see you later.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, leaving the training room. Eric rolled his eyes before stalking towards the dining area. He followed behind her seeing her meet up with her friends.

Eric knew better than to get angry when the man beside her threw his arm around her shoulders. He knew that she belonged to him and the man beside her was no competition to him. Mild irritation had him clenching his fists as he followed them. She sat beside the man, shoving his arm off of her with a smile.

“Why don’t you just tell everyone that she’s yours? Ashamed,” Eric heard Max’s voice ask. He glanced at the dauntless leader.

“What is between us stays between us,” His gruff voice, held irritation as he watched the man beside Y/N brush his hand against her side making her laugh. He gazed at her, everything about her he loved in his own way. He would never be ashamed of her, no matter how stubborn and hard headed she was.

“You were never a private person Eric,” Max teased him, while a grin made it’s way onto Eric’s face. “I’m sure many women can testify to that.”

Eric glanced at the women that he had slept with, before he turned his gaze back to the one who captured his cold heart in her warm hands. While he gazed at her, she turned glancing up at him, giving him a breathtaking smile. She stood up, shoving what was left of the food on her tray towards the man beside her. “Duty calls.” He sent a smirk towards Max, leaving him along with the other leaders.


He leaned against the door, watching her ignore him, as she brushed her h/c hair. “I’m not going to apologize.” She continued to ignore him, brushing the tangles. He rolled his eyes, moving towards her wrapping his arms around her. “Do you remember when I told you, that you were my weakness but I loved you anyway.” She stiffened slightly, before her body relaxed against his. She turned around, her hands stroking his cheeks. She stared into his eyes, nodding. “What did you say to me?”

“You know they’re gonna use things you love against you.” Her quiet voice reached his ears. “If they find out.” He pulled her impossibly closer to him, so much so that he could see the different colors in her curious eyes.

“I want people to know you’re mine,” Eric rested his forehead against her’s. He grinned while her eyes flashed dangerously. “And how I’m yours.”

“So you would allow yourself to be with someone who doesn’t measure up to you,” She hissed, stepping away from him going back to brushing her hair. “Do you honestly think that after that, I’d allow myself to be claimed as a possession.”

Eric groaned, slamming his hand on the door beside him. He was back to square one, she set the brush down. “You’re so damn..” Eric hissed back stopping himself.

“Say it…” She glared at him, before she stepped around him. “I’m going back to my room.”

He clenched his jaw, watching her walk towards the door. “You’re forgetting your knife that you sleep with when you’re alone.” She paused, before turning around to face him.

“How did?” He watched her stutter slightly.

“There’s always a knife on your side of the bed. When I work late and you stay over, you always have the same knife clutched in your palm, but when you hear me you put it off to the side.” Eric replied, moving toward her.  

“How long have you known that I did that,” She whispered, while he sat on the chair beside where she was standing.

“Since the second night you stayed here,” He watched her, as she paced. “I’m guessing it’s a fear of yours to be attacked while your sleeping.”

She laughed, avoiding his eyes. “Both a fear and a reality, I suppose. I didn’t think you caught on.”

“Of course I did. Hell I thought you were going to attack me while we slept,” Eric yawned holding his hand out to her. “Why don’t you have it while I’m with you?”

She took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled onto him. “Because I don’t need it and you didn’t need extra cuts on your body.” She leaned her head against her shoulder. “You’re not the only one who feels vulnerable Eric.” He held her closer kissing the side of her head.

She moved so she was straddling his lap, he grinned at her while he pulled her flush against him. “You’re mine, so don’t pretend you don’t like it when I tell you that,” Eric pressed his lips against her’s in a searing kiss. “I want everyone to know.”