because the other one was set days ago

anonymous asked:

I seriously love every fic y'all rec. I was wondering if you knew of any good future fics or post canon fics? Or if not future fics maybe some BAMF Stiles?

Here’s our bamf!Stiles tag and then a list of future fics! - Anastasia

Originally posted by dylanobriengirl

chasing tail lights by the_problem_with_stardust

(1/1 I 754 I Teen I Sterek)

Nothing says romance quite like a high-speed car chase through the Preserve

can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 6,260 I Teen I Sterek)

“Be cool, Dad, we’ve decided to con Grandma.”

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Something More by Anonymous

(2/6 I 7,959 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Derek, what’s going on?” Erica asks.
Derek hesitates to respond, trying to decide on the most concise way to tell the story without his disgust bleeding through. Marie beats him to it.
“After the Argents’ attack, we were the only pack who would give them shelter. As thanks, it was agreed my daughter would marry a member of the Hale pack when she came of age.”
“But Derek is no longer an option because a marriage pact can’t interfere with a pack’s hierarchy,” Lydia fills in, disbelief dripping from every word. “And now every other member of the pack is mated, you’ve finally come calling to sink your claws into Stiles.”

*

When Derek and Stiles stumbled into a friends with benefits relationship purely by accident, they weren’t expecting it would one day save their asses when a threat from Derek’s past comes knocking. All they need to do is pretend to really be in love to avoid an arranged marriage agreed to years ago with a pact of blood. Considering they hadn’t bothered setting up boundaries when the ‘benefits’ first started, it’s no surprise that the lines begin to blur and Derek’s eyes are eventually opened to a truth he hadn’t been ready to face.

Darling It Is No Joke by thehoyden

(1/1 I 13,250 I Explicit I Sterek)

The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it’s not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper.

Werewolf Love Songs, Vol. 1 by aggybird

(1/1 I 37,157 I Explicit I Sterek)

Peter decides to use the power of Barry Manilow’s music to make Stiles and Derek fall in love.

Meanwhile, there are monsters and stuff, and Stiles and Derek are stupid.

Not Your Disney Romance by tylerfucklin (Zimothy)

(5/5 I 42,065 I Mature I Sterek)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Those Are The Days That Bind Us by s_a_m

(5/5 I 52,171 I Mature I Sterek)

His father wasn’t stupid. He was an officer of the law, trained to look for patterns. He confronted Stiles about werewolves and they shouted and Stiles tried to explain but his father was so, so, so mad, more mad than Stiles had ever seen him, ever in all his life and then his father looked at him and said,

“It’s like you’re not my son anymore.”

And Stiles broke.

Last To Know by Never_Says_Die

(21/22 I 55,874 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Kink meme fill in which every werewolf and shapeshifter in Beacon Hills is aware that Stiles is pregnant before he is. And apparently the first baby!werewolf being born into the pack (their Alpha’s, no less) is a big freakin’ deal and excuse enough for everyone to lose their damn minds. When Stiles figures out why everyone’s been acting so weird around him, he’s not amused.

Just Act Normal by zosofi

(10/10 I 78,677 I Explicit I Sterek)

If someone had told Stiles back in high school that he would be an Oscar winning actor by the time he turned 25, he would’ve probably told Scott to punch them. The thing is, though…they would’ve been right.

Which makes returning to Beacon Hills, center of all that is supernatural and better left avoided, all the more awkward.

(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll

(9/9 I 78,759 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing’s gotten less complicated after all this time.

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home by tryslora

(46/46 I 100,749 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles walked away from Beacon Hills and never planned on coming home. Now he needs help, and there’s nowhere else he can go other than back to his childhood home and the pack he left behind.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

(10/10 I 105,192 I Explicit I Sterek)

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It’s Stiles’ senior year, and he’s trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he’s being haunted by a hag. Great.

Divided by Vague_Shadows

(20/20 I 149,948 I Explicit I Derek/Stiles/Isaac)

Stiles was just starting to face his DID…and then all hell broke loose.

How many times can he shatter before there’s nothing left to piece back together?

The Bet

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Not even trying to hide it. Language, NSFW

Plot: Circa Season 4 - reader is friends with Maggie and likes Daryl. Maggie and reader make a bet about the archer. 

Words: 4130

One shot, has potential for more if ya think its worth it. Also, hope this one makes up for those who hate me because I made them cry with the last one. MWAH!

Originally posted by normgasmphantasm


The heat had been oppressive over the last few days, with no rain or clouds in sight. Off on the west side of the yard Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Tyrese were trying to add support to the fences while you, Maggie and Beth sat under the kitchen canopy taking refugee from the blazing sun.

Maggie and Beth were arguing with each other over something stupid that had happened years ago and you had your gaze set firmly to the west. Sweat was slowly dripping down your brow with the occasional salty drop landing in your eye. You could feel the sweat pooling in your bra, as well as other places, but that could just be because of your current view.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m right, aren’t I? You were there… tell her,” Maggie said and threw Beth an indignant look.

“Huh?” you asked lazily, your attention still half directed at watching the guys fix the fence. Well, not all the guys. Just one guy in particular.

Maggie rolled her eyes at you and repeated the question.

“I’m sorry Maggie, I checked out a while ago,” you offered her a sorry smile and grabbed a couple more snap peas from the bucket.

Maggie turned and followed your gaze to the fences, her face broke out into a wide grin when she was facing you again.

“Uh… no,” she said shaking her head.

“What?” you asked half offended, half confused.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Beth chimed in with a tone of disgust. “You stare at him constantly. It’s kinda creepy.”

You dismissed Beth’s comment and turned to look back at Maggie. “Has she always been like this?”

“Well, she’s always disliked you if that helps,” Maggie laughed and raised her eyebrows at Beth.

Keep reading

Chapter 96 Thoughts

It’s amazing what a change in perspective can do.

This entire series opens up with the shot of a skinless, grotesque colossal monster glaring down at the residents of a city it’s about to inflict hell upon. “100 years of peace destroyed in an instant,” that’s part of the main tagline when introduced to SnK. The protagonists deal with the struggle to ensure the survival of the human race, thought to be on the brink of extinction, as a few infiltrators threaten that with their overwhelming powers.

As the story goes on, it becomes clearer that the truth is much more complicated than that. The people responsible aren’t purely sinister villains who want to kill off an entire society just for the heck of it – they were kids sent to do someone else’s dirty work. Kids who had conflicting thoughts and feelings as any other normal human being would, but continued to be complicit in it all. Nothing was simple. 

Watching Reiner, Bertolt, and Annie’s journey unravel this chapter is what really drives that idea home. That iconic opening scene of the manga takes on a completely different tone when shown from the perspective of the warrior kids. 

Keep reading

aliciatheanimefreak  asked:

Usuk but in a chemistry lab...

Torture

a/n: What does the title refer to? Arthur, or actual fuckin’ chemistry? You’ll never know… 


Arthur Kirkland was insufferable.

That face of his, when he got an A on a test that everyone else had tanked, just very so slightly tilting the paper so Alfred could see it. The way he’d point his finger when he corrected every little mistake in Alfred’s lab report- “Capitalize that ‘OH’ in NaOH. Don’t capitalize the ‘p’ in pH. Your data table is crooked. Why don’t you dot your I’s?”

A gremlin. Someone that sucked the energy right out of Alfred, constantly complaining, constantly bickering with anyone that tried to help him, constantly whining about this and that and this and that.

Oh, the way he’d hold the door, and you’d think it was so polite. With his please’s and thank you’s, but with that self-satisfied smirk plastered on his chalky-pale face, like he’d done you some sort of favor. So immature, despite the act he’d put on with his big ol’ brows perched high on his forehead, arms crossed, like he was some sort of classy adult who definitely didn’t blow his top when Alfred dug his nail into a pencil borrowed from him, or, rarely, found something to correct in his work.

He was a dick. Everyone knew it, Alfred Jones knew it, he sat next to it in Chemistry, but damn it, he could yell and shout and tear at his hair, and it was insane just how much he’d pay to shut Arthur up sometimes, but it was when the dude smiled.

It was when he would read something funny, or something sweet, memorable, something that would make him huff out a smile while thumbing through a novel when he should’ve been taking notes in class. It was then that Alfred’s heartbeat hammered in his ears, butterflies fluttered in his lungs, and nothing else would matter- not the date of their next test, not the answers to yesterday’s homework, nothing but the curve of those soft lips and Alfred hated it.

Oh god, he hated every second of liking Arthur Kirkland.

Keep reading

Domesticity Meme Tianshan (Future)

Who cooks normally?

Mo Guanshan, of course, that’s no secret. Even after years, He Tian is not allowed to touch a single pan in the kitchen.

How often do they fight?

Seriously? Mo Guanshan is the epitome of arguments and He Tian is Satan, there will be blood. ….fine, fine. Joke. They won’t fight that often because He Tian doesn’t want to. It’s simply unnecessary to show off his capability of brainfucking and physically overpowering someone he loves and whenever Mo Guanshan gets angry at him, He Tian manages to appease him by listening what the redhead has to say. He actually is a good listener. Mo Guanshan knows it and curses himself for forgiving the devil so easily.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Good question. Work? Or if they aren’t at their jobs, Mo Guanshan perhaps goes kickboxing or on a tour with his motorbike and also does the laundry and dishes and cleaning because He fucking Tian is 2 meters tall, also a male supermodel and his gorgeous smile is killing everyone who looks at him, “BUT. THAT BASTARD. CAN’T. DO. THE FUCKING HOUSEHOLD.”
He Tian is probably fucking everyone up. Don’t know how and we better not question it, Mo Guanshan asked one time and the dangerous, dirty smirk he got was enough to leave him shaking. Nope. Not doing that again.

Nicknames for each other?

Despite being cruel and evil and badass, He Tian loves the redhead more than anything else, he calls him so many cheesy nicknames, Mo Guanshan wants to constantly puke. Most of them are still from their time in middle school, it amuses He Tian to remind him of all the shit they did, although he now adds “my” to everything he says. Like “My little Mo”, “My beautiful, little redhead”, “My little Mountain…” whatever.
Mo Guanshan settles for bastard, idiot, fucker and every other insult what comes to mind. He doesn’t mean it and He Tian isn’t even going to complain because duh, he KNOWS. Always knew it.

Who is more likely to pay for dinner?

He Tian. Rich kid became rich adult. Everytime they go to the restaurant, Mo Guanshan wants to pay “for fucking once” but He Tian is not having any of that. He distracts the redhead or says that he is going to the toilet or even steals Mo Guanshan’s wallet out of his hands without the redhead even noticing and when they’re leaving, Mo Guanshan finally understands that he had been tricked. AGAIN.

Who steals the covers at night?

Mo Guanshan, He Tian is awake most of the night and when he sleeps, he is as cold as a corpse, laying on his back with crossed arms over his chest and he doesn’t move an inch. Well, after snatching away the warm blanket, one time the redhead’s guilty conscience makes him feel that traitorous that he sighs and spreads it over them both. Only to almost scream when he feels an arm pulling him to the broad, trained but freezing chest and hears the soft laughing at his ear.

“Couldn’t let me die, hm~?”
“JESUS, ARE YOU MADE OF ICE OR WH…! FUCK THE HELL OFF!”
“You could warm me up properly, how about that…?”
“IT’S 4 A.M. IN THE FUCKING MORNING, LIKE HELL I WILL!”

He Tian only chuckles and buries his nose in the red hair. Mo Guanshan is glad that in the dark, Satan can’t see his bright red face.

What would they get each other for gifts?

He Tian gets the redhead everything he sets his eyes on. Really. Money doesn’t matter and Mo Guanshan tries to stop him. But since it’s He Tian we’re talking about, to no avail. A new pillow because the old one is worn off? No problem, darling, He Tian makes sure you’ll have a new one when you go to bed for the next time. One of Mo Guanshan’s favorite movies will be out in the store the next few days? He Tian will be the one who ordered it weeks ago to have it delivered before it even is officially released. One of his little Mountain’s earstuds has gone missing? Do not despair, your husband will buy you twenty new pairs.
Mo Guanshand tells him it’s ridiculous. (And secretly loves him for being such a dork, caring that much about his well-being.)
The redhead on the other hand gifts the blackhaired man preferably with cold glares, snorts and ignorance, but if he finds something that He Tian would like, he doesn’t hesitate to gather his savings to buy it for him. Rather difficult because this guy already has everything. He Tian tells him he doesn’t have to, but Mo Guanshan insists and “If you don’t accept this proof of my debatable love for you shithead, I’ll beat you up with it, just so you know. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me, damn it.”

Who remembers things?

Both. He Tian is by far more unforgiving than the devil himself if it’s something he really despises. Also he likes to bring up old stories and embarrass the living crap out of his Mountain. For doing house-related stuff, his brain is useless.
Mo Guanshan also has developed a sharp mind, but he rather does not talk about the past. Too annoying and if He Tian doesn’t stop telling everyone how they became a couple, he will go berserk. Otherwise, he never forgets a single thing when he’s out for grocery shopping.

Who cusses more?

Mo Guanshan, 100%. Still a foul mouth.

What would they do if the other one was hurt? (Scenario after a fight)

If it’s Mo Guanshan who is physically hurt and you are the cause for it, you better RUN. Or jump off a building. Because He Tian is going to hunt you down with fire and steel after he made sure that the redhead is safe. And he WILL find you, wherever you are. You would be well advised if you already dig your own grave.
He Tian is a person who is never physically hurt. Or pretends it. Mo Guanshan knows him well enough to know when he lies and after receiving a good verbal scolding, He Tian’s going to be treated like gold. Getting his wounds cleaned and bandaged with utmost care and after the redhead is done, Mo Guanshan would bed him on the mattress, tell him that he will be back in a while and is about to leave, when He Tian grabs his wrist.
“You will not search for him, Mountain. The matter is settled and I want you here. Stay.”

Who kissed who first?

He Tian kissed Mo Guanshan in middle school. (That’s canon.)
Mo Guanshan still hits his husband when he thinks about it.

Who made the first move?

Also He Tian, because if there’s something -or in this case, someone- he wants, he gets it/them.

Who started the relationship?

I’d like to imagine it’s Mo Guanshan. He Tian confesses his true feelings and Mo Guanshan first doesn’t believe shit he says, but after a night full of thinking and growling and hitting his bed sheets and realizations, he can’t deny anymore that he also loves this bastard and more, wants him by his side. Wants his presence all around him, wants him to hold him. The next day, he walks up to the blackhaired man, slams his palm against his chest and tells him straight-forward that he probably shouldn’t tell him, but he wants him by his side. Wants to be with him. Mo Guanshan is red as a lobster, and He Tian just stares at him in disbelief, after all, he didn’t dare to imagine in his wildest dreams that the redhead would ever like him enough to stay. Wordlessly, he grabs the redhaired man’s cheeks, very gently, and after a short moment and a deep gaze into his eyes, he kisses him. This time, he had seen it in his face that Mo Guanshan trusted him and his lips pull into a content, honest smile at the other’s warm, soft ones, when he feels him kissing back.
Nothing could ever ruin this moment and they both realize that that’s what they longed for all the time. Would live for, from now on and the thought makes Mo Guanshan smile, too.

anonymous asked:

Your tim angst is killing me, could you write maybe some comfort for him?? and like red robin!tim not robin tim if you are up for it

Um. I tried? This was supposed to be a short and sweet moment with Bruce checking up on Tim but some angst managed to creep in anyway. (In hindsight, Bruce probably wasn’t the best choice for purely fluffy comfort…)

On a side note, awkward dad Bruce is my favourite kind of Bruce.

Bruce shifts his grip on the plastic bags in his hand and knocks on the door. He tries not to fidget while he waits, smoothing down the material of his suit jacket and telling himself it’s because it’s creased from hours sitting behind a desk, but by the time the door finally cracks open it’s taking conscious willpower not to straighten his tie or readjust his cuffs. 

“Hi,” he says.

Tim blinks at him. His hair is mussed, eyes half-lidded, jacket and tie gone, top buttons undone, but still in his suit from WE. Probably woken from a nap by the knocking. Bruce feels a thin shiver of guilt about that (to add to the many, many other things he feels guilty about). “Hi,” the teen replies, almost wary in the way his eyes flicker over Bruce’s face and down to the bag in his hand. “Did I forget something?”

As though Bruce can’t show up at his son’s apartment just to visit without an ulterior motive. "No. I just thought I’d drop by, see how you’re dong.“ He hefts the plastic bags a little higher. “I brought dinner.”

“Oh.” Tim’s nose scrunches slightly, lips moving to form some silent question that Bruce would put money on being “why?” But he just takes a step back and pulls the door further open, a belated invitation accompanying the gesture. “Sorry it’s kind of messy, I’ve been a bit busy lately…”

Empty words to fill an awkward gap, because the apartment isn’t messy at all. Bruce moves through the living area to set the bags of takeout on the breakfast bar of the open-plan kitchen and notes nothing more than an empty coffee mug, Tim’s laptop and a precarious stack of paperwork on the coffee table to indicate that a young adult teenager even lives there. “It’s fine,” he says anyway. “Taking in Jason desensitised me to mess.”

Tim smiles at the joke, but it’s forced, and the way his head dips and shoulders tense looks like he’s trying to sink into himself. Bruce winces; Tim’s always been a little funny about Jason, quick to defend him but even quicker to shy away from anything resembling banter.

“Where do you keep your plates?” he hurries to ask. His turn to cover the ensuing awkward pause with inane chatter Tim slips past him, the whisper of his clothing barely brushing Bruce’s back, and pulls out two plates and two sets of cutlery. They work in silence to serve out the Indian dishes and it’s only once they’re sitting on the couch with the TV chattering away with a news report that Bruce finally clears his throat to break it.

“So how’s work?”

Tim snorts. He swallows his mouthful then spears another forkful of butter chicken and rice before asking, “You really want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Bruce.” Tim sighs. He sets his fork down with a clatter then turns to give Bruce his full, incredulous attention. “We work in the same place. We saw each other four hours ago. In fact, we see each other almost every day. Do I need to continue? Because I can make a list, starting with the fact that you never make small talk. And you never invite yourself around with takeout. And you never-”

“Tim.” All it takes is that one, firmly spoken word for his second youngest’s jaw to snap shut, for him to turn away to glare out the window as though it will alleviate his frustration and confusion. Bruce sets his own fork down so he can run a hand through his hair. “I know I’m not the best at… all of this-” He can’t quite see his face, but he’s pretty sure Tim rolls his eyes at that. “-but I’ve been back for several months now and I feel like I haven’t seen you at all outside of WE, and that’s hardly the place to properly ask how you’ve been.”

What with walls with eyes and employees with ears, eager for any tidbit of gossip about anyone with the last name Wayne. Any casual allusion to their nighttime activities is treated with the utmost caution; even if Tim had cracked ribs or a bullet wound, he wouldn’t dare to say it. And it’s not like Bruce can just check for himself since Brucie is just a bumbling, oblivious billionaire not a world class, analytical detective.

“I’ve been fine,” Tim says eventually. His eyes dart toward Bruce before dropping down to stare at his plate. “Sorry,” he adds a second later. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” Bruce interrupts. “It’s just…” I miss you. "Even though you’re not technically under my care anymore, I still worry.“

Tim is biting his lip, still staring at his plate. Silence stretches between them for the third time and Bruce is beginning to think he’s made some kind of mistake when he hears a soft, “Thank you.” And when Tim lifts his chin to meet his gaze, his smile is real. “For dinner and…”

Bruce squeezes his shoulder. “Anytime.” On the TV, the intro for some new reality TV show is playing, an upbeat melody to offset the more serious mood in the apartment. Bruce clears his throat, “Now, how about a movie?”

Tim’s posture relaxes, eyes lighting up as he suggests, “The Princess Bride?”

“Sounds good.”

And when Nightwing taps on the window a few hours later to see if either of them are going to be patrolling that night, Bruce waves him away. He smiles down at the teen sleeping against his shoulder, brushing back his unruly hair and dropping a kiss on the top of his head. The slight movement dislodges Tim enough that he slips forward, head coming to rest against his adoptive father’s neck. Bruce tightens his hold around his shoulders and Tim sighs softly, curling against his chest. He’s surely going to have a crick in his neck in the morning if he sleeps sitting upright but Bruce finds he doesn’t care, more than willing to suffer a little pain if it means providing comfort to his son.

Green Eyed Monster//Kendall Jenner

Prompt: Can you pls do a kendall jenner and Yn g!p imagine?

Warnings: This imagine has g!p content, so if chicks with dicks bother you, feel free to skip this one. For those who are interested in the plot but not the smut, there will be line breaks to separate the smut from the rest of the imagine.

Rating: R

Pairing: Kendall Jenner/Reader

Word Count: 2,832

A/N: This one is a bit long, because I couldn’t get the smut to come out properly without some kind of backstory for why there was even smut to begin with. Hopefully it’s to your liking @sabrinmixer 

Originally posted by kendallandkyliefashionstyles

Keep reading

7

On Memorial Day 2017, I would like to celebrate by looking back at our very first fallen veterans. In the 1860s, Revolutionary War veterans were beginning to disappear for good. Wanting to capture their photographs one last time for history to remember, one photographer set out to photograph the very last survivors he could find alive. This tiny set of 7-8 pictures is all that we have left of this remarkable generation. Some of these men were there at the battles of Lexington and Concord, one was a drummer boy for General Washington himself, and others fought and suffered injuries for their service; all of this nearly 240 years ago! Please reblog to share these little seen photographs because I honestly think Americans need and deserve to see their history with their own eyes in order to even begin to comprehend how real it was.

“The Final Problem” didn’t confirm that James Moriarty is Dead but it might have just confirmed that he’s Alive

I know. We’re all upset. We’re bothered. We’re hurt. “The Final Problem” didn’t go the way we wanted it to. I despised the episode the first time I watched it. I loathed it the second time I watched it. But the third time, well, the third time was different. 

James Moriarty is alive. “The Final Problem” isn’t the end of his plan. It’s the beginning. 

What I’ve complied will hopefully make this episode make sense. 

Here are the topics I’m going to discuss, in detail:

  • What is Eurus’ grand plan? And why and how would Moriarty help her with that? 
  • What’s the significance of Eurus telling Moriarty “Redbeard”?
  • What is Moriarty’s “Final Problem”?
  • The Flashback scene gives the writers credibility when they bring Moriarty back in Series 5
  • Why would Moriarty say “This is a recorded message” and why would Eurus mention that Jim is dead?
  • Who was Eurus’ and Culverton Smith’s mutual friend? 
  • What is the meaning of the number 13 on Mycroft’s fridge?
  • Who hacked all of the tv screens in London?
  • This episode gave us no new evidence that Moriarty is dead; some recorded videos and a character saying it. We’ve all seen this before. 
  • If “The Final Problem” is over, why record Andrew Scott as Moriarty, implying that we haven’t seen the last of him?

Keep reading

Him and Her {Keith x Reader}

  Words: 1220

  Genre: Fluff

  Prompt: “Would it be too cliché if we matched clothes a little?”

  Pairing: Keith x Reader

  Notes: I wrote this instead of getting to the requests in my inbox.

Keep reading

Last Minute Romance

Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Rating: G, Word Count: 1561
Fluff, Valentine’s Day, Established Relationship, POV Jace

Read on AO3

For Jimon Week Day 2: Valentine’s Day

Jace loves going a round with the punching bag. He gets to do all the hitting, and he doesn’t need to think. He just lets his muscle memory do its thing, while his mind clears itself of any pent-up aggression and frustration.

‘I should watch you train more often. This is a good look on you.’

Jace smiles and huffs out a laugh. ‘Red and smelling?’ he asks, turning to his boyfriend.

‘I mean half-naked and sweaty,’ Simon grins. He pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against and is instantly by Jace’s side. ‘Hey,’ he whispers.

‘Hey.’

Jace leans in for a kiss, closing his eyes when Simon’s hands slide into his hair.

‘Ah, gross!’ Simon whines. He pulls his hand out of Jace’s hair. ‘I changed my mind. Being sweaty is disgusting, please take a shower.’

Jace opens his eyes to Simon grabbing the sweatshirt that’s lying next to Jace’s water bottle, and wiping his hands on it.

‘I did tell you.’

‘Yeah. Here,’ Simon throws him the shirt. ‘To wipe that smug look off your face.’

Jace pulls on the shirt, and Simon tosses him the water bottle next, just a little faster than necessary. Jace winks when he catches it without fumbling.

‘Any plans for tonight?’ Simon asks.

‘It’s pretty quiet out. Just standard patrols, and I’m not assigned to any of them, so no. You wanna go do something?’

‘That’s why I came by,’ Simon says. There’s a smile on his lips, but Jace can’t help but think it’s just a little bit too bright.

Keep reading

Reach Up, Grab the Chain

Written for @chargetransfer, who asked for Foggy watching Matt at the gym.

Donate to the ACLU and get fic!


There was a smell at Fogwell’s that rubbed damply against the inside of the windows and lolled out of open doors like a tongue. Inside, the air had a sort of texture, like all the exhales made by all the fighters like Matt–grunts of exertion, cries of victory, sighs of defeat–never quite dissipated, but hung thickly around in the rafters.  

Foggy had a lever-arch binder open on his lap, a pen in one hand, and an empty paper coffee cup balanced on the face-down pages. He was before a judge in a measly three days, and his trial strategy amounted to little more than pointing at the rich douchebag suing their client, his former housecleaner, and saying, “asshole say what?” So while Matt hit the heavy-bag, Foggy did some legal heavy-lifting.

Foggy had a weird relationship with Matt’s gym time. On the one hand, it took him away from the office and made their respective workloads ever more imbalanced. There were days Foggy didn’t even go to the bathroom because the hits kept coming, and Matt somehow made time to exercise. On the other hand, it helped keep Matt alive when he was out on the streets. It was work–just not billable work.

On yet another (possibly mutant) hand, while it was good for Matt’s continued health and well-being, it was terrible for Foggy’s because it was 3D, surround sound, high-definition, hardcore porn.

Keep reading

A thing I wrote almost a year ago but never uploaded because bleh, it was too short, rushed, unfinished and english is just my second language so I have no clue what I’m doing. If someone wants to pick up the rough idea and write it out, please go ahead~

3000 Years and 2 Dimensions

Set wasn’t one to be easily impressed, but Atem managed to gain more than just his loyalty. They challenged, but also respected each other, forming a deep bond over the years.  
“Promise me to take care, my pharaoh“, he said on that fateful day. But the odds were against them.
Set held him, while Atem’s eyes slowly fell close. Their hands connected, holding the millennium puzzle weakly between them. Atem had sealed the evil inside the puzzle, and with it, his own soul.
A sorrowful growl escaped him while clinging to the lifeless body of his dear friend. He would see him again. If not in this lifetime, he’d wait for as long as it takes.

~ ~ ~

Set’s soul wandered on earth for many years on. The circle of life had him reincarnate into countless bodies in various lands during different times.

Keep reading

Name of Love

Request: I miss your robbie kay imagines 😥 if you want to, please 🙂 can you do one where Robbie is blind and the reader (his gf) is a singer. Robbie is really insecure (about his blindness + relationship with the reader) so the reader conforted him by singing “Name of Love” by Martin Garrix ? I love your fluffy imagines 😍

Warnings: OOC Robbie, blindness

Name of Love - Martin Garrix

Something was wrong with Robbie. He was struggling a lot. You and him both knew that this relationship would be different and difficult from the very start. Robbie was blind. He had an accident one day when on set that made him lose his vision. He could barely see out of one eye, but other than that he couldn’t see anymore. 

When you and him got together a few months ago, he was so insecure. You were a famous singer, and he used to be a famous actor. But now he was basically nobody, or so he thought. He still had fans, still had love. But he was so insecure now because of his sudden disability. It threw him completely off.

“Robbie, talk to me,” you begged. He had been acting different, but wasn’t talking about it.

“No. There’s nothing to talk about.”

You searched for something to say. It killed you to see him this way. “Okay… then how’s your day been?”

“How’s my day been? I don’t know! I’ve done nothing, I can’t see a bloody thing!” He snapped.

You flashed a look of hurt at him. With his small amount of vision left, he could faintly see the expression. He frowned even more. 

“I’m sorry, love… I’m just… I don’t know. I’m not happy with myself.” He sighed, looking at you. “I’m so scared that you’re going to leave me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know it’s been a few months, but they’ve been the best ever… I’m afraid.”

“Rob, there’s no need to be afraid or scared. I love you for you. I love you because you’re so sweet and kind. You’re amazing, Robbie.”

“I love you, too,” he simply replied. He then got up, setting up his walking stick. He claimed he was going to bed despite it being rather early still.

You sighed. He was still upset, still nervous. You knew you had to do something. But what? Of course, music popped right into your mind. You had to write a song for him. To prove that you truly loved him and you weren’t going anywhere. You instantly got to writing.


About a week passed, and you felt like the song was ready. It was the quickest you had ever written a song. Everything came to you with ease, however. It was all on the tip of your tongue, and you jotted the words down so smoothly. Writing the music was a little harder, as you wanted the melody to flow with the words. You wanted it to be perfect.

“Y/N, what have you been doing this past week? You’ve seemed… busier.” Robbie hesitated, nervous that you were distancing yourself.

“You’ll see, Rob,” you giggled. Tonight was the night you were going to perform it for him.

Robbie didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He was so anxious and insecure. It was destroying him. You prayed this song would help him feel better.

Later that day, after you were done working, you sat Robbie on the couch. You two had just finished dinner. You thought it was the perfect time.

“What are you doing?” 

“Uh, I wrote this new song. And I want you to be the first to hear it.”

Robbie’s eyes widened a little. Him being the first to hear your newest song meant so much to him. You got to strumming your guitar, singing.

If I told you this was only gonna hurt; if I warned you that the fire’s gonna burn, would you walk in? Would you let me do it first? Do it all in the name of love…

You sang it so beautifully. This acoustic version made it so sound lovely to Robbie’s ears. He even teared up at some of the lyrics. You could only smile though as you sang. He was loving it. Maybe he even got the hint it was meant for him. 

“Y/N.. that was so beautiful. Your best song yet.” Robbie grinned, looking down.

“You think so?” You smirked. “Because I made it for you.”

His head perked up, tears once again visible in his eyes. “Really?” 

“Of course. I thought it was time to make a song about you. You mean a lot to me. It my first song about a significant other.”

Robbie was speechless, not knowing what to say. His tears spilled over as he cried. His face crumbled, he was so happy. The song made him feel so alive. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. 

“Where are you?” He asked, voice becoming hoarse.

“I’m right here.” You set your guitar down, sitting next to him on the couch. 

You both embraced, hugging one another tightly. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, knowing he really liked it when you did that. His head rested on your chest. 

“I love you so much.” He sobbed.

“I love you, too,” you grinned. You were trying not to cry, but failed. “So much.”

Robbie lifted his head off you, wiping some of his tears. He looked directly at you, leaning in for a kiss. You kissed him back, so much love being in the kiss. The song had worked, and Robbie felt so much better. It made you so happy, knowing he was feeling okay.

S.O.S. Chapter 1

Ashton Irwin

Author’s note:
Okay, a few days ago I asked if you’d be interested in an Ash story I had written (mainly for myself) lately. Since I won’t be able to update as frequently as usual, I want to give you this. I really enjoyed writing it. It’ll be multiple parts and I’ll continue it until it’s finished through my one shots.
Don’t worry, I’ll still be writing other things, but I need time for those, studying is my number one priority right now.

I hope you like this! It’s the setting of the story, because the boys don’t appear in this yet you’ll get another part tomorrow! Let me know what you think!

————————————————————————

The wind blew through my loose, slightly wavy hair, whipping it all around but mostly into my face. It was as if some mythical creature wanted to make sure that the tears would be streaming past my cheeks while I tried to get the tangled knots out later.
Two years had passed since we moved here, and so much can happen at that span of time. School feels like an eternity ago, left behind never to be spoken of again. Some friends were long forgotten and others were newly made.

My whole life had changed.
In the span of two years, I had graduated, moved to another country and started a small business with one of my best mates. She had been there, seeing me get torn in two.
That small business, that was just a wild adolescent dream of mine, had turned out to be one of the most successful bars in the centre of London.
Yeah, me dealing with my problems consisted of me running away to England. I had always been a coward. This one beats all of my coward actions through my young years though.

I should be heading back, readying myself for another night of serving the best liquors of Europe to tourists, locals and occasionally a celebrity.
But the way the wind blew against my already frozen face seemed to numb me completely, making any form of emotion physically impossible without experiencing stabbing pains in my cheeks. It soothed me, calmed me. I didn’t want to go back to a hectic life right now.
My fingers curled around the railing, the cool metal searing through my skin.

Sometimes I wished it didn’t become like this. I was only twenty one years old, soon turning twenty two. I wish I had finished college, made something for myself. I wouldn’t have all these responsibilities I had to return to every single day I opened my eyes.
But, it was time, so I hug my trench coat closer to my shivering frame, enclosing the warmth around me as my feet carry me to my destination without a second thought.

People greeted me as I passed them, a small smile accompanied with a nod their answer from me. Normally I would try to be cheery, even start up a conversation with most of them, but today I just was not feeling it. Everyone in the neighbourhood had helped us so much through the year and a half we had been in England, and they became some sort of second family.
The bold lettering comes to view, and I can’t help it but let the air escape me in visible puffs, sighing deeply.

The little bell I had hung up last week rings obnoxiously loud through the now empty area, making me cringe. Why did I hang that stupid thing up again?
“Oh, there you are! You said you wanted to rearrange?” My best mate greets me, her hands floating through the air, my eyebrows shooting sky high as I follow her hands, her frame blocked by all the different kinds of bottles we provide. She has taken everything out of the fridges, aligning them in front of her so she probably has a better look at the assortment.

I shrug my thick coat off, the damp article of clothing being tossed on one of the nearby bar stools. “It seems more logical to put all the soda together, as well as the blonde beers. I have been searching for a simple coke for over ten minutes yesterday.”
A smile was thrown my way, and I know she is trying not to laugh at my stupidity.
“Don’t.” I warn her, my fingers curl around a vacant pack of cigarettes, probably hers, laying on the table next to me.

“The wind is a bitch. Winter isn’t over yet.” I comment, exhaling the cancerous smoke into my surrounding area. I get a hum in return, Natalee already disappeared behind the bar to continue her work.
My free hand runs over my face, it has been exhausting these past couple of days.
“Any work left for me?” I exhale, my eyes still covered by my small hand resting there.

“Nah, Rose is filling a tub for the floor. I know you’re tired, just go lay down.” Natalee points her thumb to the door behind her, the small office where I sit almost every night, calculating our profits. “Thanks.” Natalee may have been the one with the right paperwork to start this business, but I, in the end, was in charge of those paperworks.

Natalee has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She has been there for every single heart break, or bone break, because damn I was a reckless kid. We have grown up together and we can finish each other’s sentences. It wasn’t that hard to understand that is the reason I had asked her to join me in one of my wild dreams.

My body pushes through the door, immediately clicking locked behind me. I wasn’t just physically done, my mental state isn’t what it used to be either.
My eyes are trained on the small alarm clock, trying to get the alarm set so I won’t wake up too late for the opening tonight. There have been times where I woke up half way through the evening, and Nat had to do everything on her own. I feel sorry for her that she has to deal with my depressed ass.

I could hear Rose’s heels click against the hard wood flooring as soon as I lay down, disappearing into the distance. Soon, all preparations will be done and another night will start. I know I won’t be getting any sleep, because simply, I haven’t slept in a while now.
My ears perk up at the noise of Rose and Natalee conversing.

“Maybe we are forced to take a break. Visit some relatives, relax a while, I don’t know.” I heard Nat’s voice whisper. Rose mumbles something incoherent for me to understand.
Involuntarily, I turn my body so my eyes are glued to the door, hoping I could eavesdrop a little better this way.
“Sophie’s coming over to help, right?” Rose questions as I hear both of their footsteps retreat down the hall. I groan when I notice we are opening in half an hour. A nap is useless now.

I groan rather loudly, slamming my hands in front of my eyes as I try to block the world out. I know I am exhausted, it is becoming visible and I feel that way, so why can’t I freaking sleep? I will end up in the hospital if I keep this up, and I really try to sleep, or take naps during the day, really. But it seems that every time I try, all these responsibilities that have to do with our bar seem to pop in my mind, and before I know it I am working behind the computer again at three in the morning.

I decide to just get up and get some needed work done. Our supplies are running low, and it is time for me to order anyways. My fingers tap away, forming an e-mail to one of the companies we work with. My eyes are glued to the screen, and I don’t look up when I hear someone enter.
“You just can’t stop working for a second, can you?” I hear my best friends voice, and in the corner of my eye, see her sitting down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. A small smile forms on my lips as I dart my eyes towards her, shrugging my shoulders in the meantime.

“There are things that need to be done, so I’m doing them.”  My fingers leave the keyboard as I click send, leaning back in the desk chair as I turn my attention fully to Natalee.
“Is it because the two year mark is coming up?” She dares to ask, and I can see she is nervous about my answer. Normally, there are no words spoken of what ever happened that day. I just try to block it out and get along with my life, but it seems so hard. Definitely when I am constantly reminding by it by the people who are this close to me.

I close my eyes, shrugging in the process. I don’t want to answer verbally, because I honestly feel like my voice is going to go an octave higher and she’ll notice my distress from afar.
“It’s okay to mourn or something, but I really wish you would just talk to me.” Natalee sighs, tapping her nails along the wood of the desk.

I open my eyes and lean forward, my lower arms now resting on the same wood she is tapping on. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, there is just nothing left to say.”
“If you still feel bad about it, then you definitely should talk about it.”
Our conversation is interrupted with a small knock on the door, Rose’s head appearing in a small crack she has made.

“Is it okay if I open up?” Both of us nod, Natalee muttering an okay and we will be right there before the door closed again and we were back to just us.
“I worry about you. You aren’t sleeping, barely eating and you seem lifeless. That’s not my best friend.”
I push myself out of the confines of my chair, pacing around the room without ever glancing at Natalee.

“I can’t help it I have trouble sleeping, I’m sure it will all blow over in just a couple of days. I don’t need rest, I need a hug.” I sigh, turning to her to see if she has gotten the message. Before I have fully turned around, Nat’s arms are already around me and she is crushing me in a bone crushing hug. I sigh contently, reciprocating as my arms slither around her waist.
“I miss him.” I breathe out, and now that I finally admit it, I feel a lot better.

Lots of love,
L. xox

Panhandling

Just a Soul x Kilik for Rare Pair Appreciation Day :)

Sept 2017
Prompt: Fireworks


It took just a dollar’s worth of tips to make him smile.

And Soul wondered to himself what would happen if he dropped a little more change into the man’s open case. Every Tuesday and Thursday evening on his commute home, the same guitarist played at the entrance of the subway. Be it rain or shine, hail or sleet above, he was there, plucking at the strings of both familiar songs and new.

On those same days, Soul always made sure to keep a bit of spare change in his pockets despite paying for his tickets both online and with credit card. There was no true reason behind it other than the obvious one: supporting local artists was just something Soul liked to do. Yet when he saw the man beaming at Soul, he wondered how long ago did the funny feeling in his stomach sneak up on him. It must have been recent, because he swore that it wasn’t there when he first heard the music.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips on how to hang out with friends after college?

Oh man, that is a great question! And one I don’t know if I have a good answer for, honestly. Adult friendships are weird, but they’re also better I think. I’m still dealing with how to make friends period after college. I’m almost a full year into being an “adult”, so take everything I say with a grain of salt, but here’s what I’ve learned so far:

1. a lot of people say that having friends as an adult is impossible. Those people are only halfway right. It’s definitely doable, but it does become difficult. Mainly because of people’s schedules. For example, most of my friends still work at Gamestop, so they work either mornings or evenings, until 9:30 or later. I work 7-4, generally, so doing stuff after 10pm is not something I enjoy doing all the time. Not that I ever sleep, but I still like to be in bed by midnight. You have to learn to work around people’s schedules, and recognize that hanging out every night just isn’t gonna happen that often anymore. And that’s unfortunate.

2. “Events” don’t happen as often anymore. This is both good and bad! The bad part is that you start to do things less frequently. The good part is that you start to appreciate when they do happen. For example, most of my friends got together tonight to go to Dave and Busters for one of their birthdays. We had organized this a few weeks ago to make sure that we all set aside the time, and it was SO MUCH FUN. It was hella expensive, but I’m glad that we all got to go. We also get together every other Friday for drinks and an evening just to hang out as a group. Planning ahead becomes more of a thing, and that’s something I’m still not really all that used to haha.

3. You have to accept the fact that just because you don’t talk every day doesn’t mean you aren’t friends. You’re going to be an adult - adults are busy. That doesn’t mean you don’t make time for those you care about, but it does mean your schedule gets more packed. I have group chats going with my friends, but sometimes I go days without talking to or seeing some of them. That’s okay! It happens. I have a couple friends that don’t live close to me that I go months without talking to, but would still consider them best friends of mine because when we do see each other, it’s like they never left. My best friend is in the Air Force and I haven’t talked to him since October. That stinks, but I know it’s all good because when he comes into town it’s not awkward. We just have been friends that long.

4. This is the one that sucks: some people are going to exit your life, and there’s just no way around that. Some people weren’t that close to you to begin with. Some people feel like not seeing you every day means that you aren’t besties. Some people break your heart. It happens. Being an adult sucks sometimes. But at the end of the day, the people that stick around mean more than anyone else because they put up with everything, despite it all.

5. This may or may not be for you, but I’m a gamer. I stay in touch with friends by playing things with them. Overwatch, League of Legends, COD4, Halo Wars 2, Mass Effect Andromeda, these are all things I play with friends. One of my best friends is moving to another state at the end of the week, and all I’m going to have left is online multiplayer. That’s life. It sucks, but you take what you can get

I’m not sure if I even remotely answered your question! Or if this is what you meant by it. But basically - maintaining friendships after college and as an adult becomes exactly that: something you have to maintain. It’s not as easy as it was when you’re around each other and have all the free time in the world (relatively speaking), but that’s what makes adult friendships better than college friendships: you start to appreciate those who take time out of their lives to spend time with you. They could be doing what a lot of adults do - toiling away at their job and doing nothing but going between work and home.

Little Things

Originally posted by blobyblome

Little Things

It had been the longest shoot of your career. Your group was getting ready to make their comeback and you had to film your new MV. Which took twelve hours and then do a promotional photo shoot right after. The hardest part of it all was having to keep a sincere smile on your face. All you wanted to do was go back home, eat, cuddle up with Kiseok and sleep.  The only other upside to long shoots was that you got the next two days off.

The only thing that kept you going was texting your boyfriend throughout the shoot. That was until he stopped answering a few hours ago. “Oppa probably fell asleep…lucky bastard…” you mumbled to yourself. You were happy that someone was sleeping it was almost four in the morning.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So what's Matt been up to these days? Haven't heard much. (Idk, you seem like the best person to ask...) (Later, mom)

LOL

You know, good question. A few weeks ago he visited his grandma in Texas. He just ate some Korean food with the hubs and boys. Other than that????

We know he wrapped up his directing debut a bit ago (for American Crime Story) – where one actress on set said, “Being directed by such inspiring actor like Matt Bomer gave me so much freedom in the creative process right away because his immense sensitivity toward the actors and the art of acting itself.There was a great chemistry and bonding between all of us during the creative process. All of us were there doing our job in the best way possible. I felt lucky to be working with Matt Bomer…” [x]

He’ll be playing Donald in The Boys In the Band on Broadway starting in late April. Don’t know when he’ll need to start working on that.

Other than that…no idea! Teaching Stella how to walk on a leash, sit, stay, and go potty outside? lol

I miss seeing him regularly in something. :(