Request: Uh, open requests! Maybe a DeanxReader, where Bobby, the readers father died because of Dean , and the reader just can’t forgive dean and she doesn’t trust him anymore, but it ends with Dean winning her back? Just some Fluff and angst, maybe?
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 2,800ish
A/N: Gah, I remember when I didn’t do any angst. How times have changed…
Summary: You have a crush on Peter, but Peter has eyes for
someone else. Will you ever get the boy of your dreams or will you have to
remain friends and move on?
Characters: Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x Reader
Word Count: 1,274
A/N: I’m on a roll guys!! I would also like to thank every
single one of you for sending me feedback and loving everything so far. I haven’t
been this excited to write, in a really long time, so thank you! Part two can
be found here.
It was Twin Day at school today and you had coordinated with
Michelle to be punk rockers. Typical theme, but it got the job done. In the
morning, you both pestered Ned to take pictures of the both of you. Ned,
however, was missing his twin, Peter, who hadn’t shown up to school yet. You didn’t
see him leave the building this morning or the train. You thought he would be
here with all the excitement that happened yesterday with him. It wasn’t also
typical for Peter Parker to be skipping school, maybe Tony Stark had just kept
him for the day, and the school excused him.
As the warning bell rang to get to class, Liz out of all
people approached you.
“(Y/N)! Do you know where Peter is? I want to talk to him
about Homecoming,” she said.
“No, I haven’t seen him this morning. None of us had. You
should try ringing him,” you said.
“I did, he didn’t pick up. Oh well. Thanks,” and with that
Liz was on her way to homeroom and so were you and Michelle.
Bucky Barnes ran off the helicarrier as soon as it touched down on the Avengers HQ, the mission had been running for too long and that only meant one thing: being away from home and leaving a little someone without any proper supervision. Obviously, Wilson would allow her to do anything she pleased without giving further thought to the consequences of his and her actions.
“WHERE IS SHE?”
Barnes didn’t notice anything in his surroundings as he sprinted down every hall on the compound to find any trace of her but much to his dismay, she was nowhere to be found. Not even the smallest hint that she ever lived there. Panic started to settle down in his body and a lot of what ifs crossed his mind. What if something happened? What if she realized who I truly am? What if my past came to seek vengeance? What if she’s not prepared for this? What if? What if?
I will rule for a thousand years, and none shall defy my
I am the sole queen of these lands. Sole heir to the winter
and the forests and the streams, sole arbiter of the echoing city streets of
stone. So many would keep me from my throne, my true calling. But I have earned
my place. I have shown them all what it means to rule.
It started with my sister. From my first hazy memories I
remember her shadow weighing down on me, stifling my every move. “One day one
of you must rule,” our father said to us, night after night when we gathered at
his feet. “If it must be one of you, then I will be the one to choose.”
How could we learn to be sisters with such a decree? All I
wanted was a friend, someone to look up to, someone to whisper to at night to
keep the darkness away. But I learned quickly that that was only the surest
path to her scorn. She saw me as weak, as foolish, as younger. I would reach
out to her to pull me up and she would shove me right back down. I would show
her my weakness and she would pry it open wide, ragged and bloody.
I didn’t realize the significance, at first, of what our
father wanted us to become. Didn’t know what it meant to be queen, or why it
was something worth fighting for. But as I learned from my sister, I learned to
covet it, to hunger for it so fiercely that everything else tasted dried out
and dull. She wanted to rule so that all would obey her. I wanted to rule so
she could not.
The first time she tried to kill me, it was my nurse who
gave it away. She woke me up in the dead of night and bundled me into a closet,
told me not to make a noise no matter what followed. Then the guards came,
swords drawn, visors lowered. They were only boys infatuated with my sister,
but at the time everyone seemed impossibly old to me, unstoppably strong. I
feared them, but I believed my nurse invincible too.
They taught me, quickly, how wrong I was.
After that, my father sent me to the country for a spell.
Armed guards, a fleet of tutors, and an ailing count who watched over me with a
gaze like sharpened knives. Sometimes the threats came in letters that the
count would burn before he thought I could read them. Sometimes, It was
assassins in the night.
Worst of all, though, were the long silences. The heaviness
of her inaction dragging me to the bottom, drowning me. I never knew when the
next assault would come for me.
Slowly, finally, I could wait no longer.
I found the woman in the country market, slender fingers
grazing over her wares of pewter charms and crystals and bundled flowers. Her
skin was smooth, her hair like silk, and when she looked my way, I saw the kiss
of winter in her eyes.
“You look troubled,” she said, and the words wrapped around
me like a soft breeze. “You look far too troubled for someone your age.”
I looked away then, ashamed to be so young. If I was older,
if I was cleverer, I wouldn’t have to be sent away. I could prove myself worthy
of the crown. I could beat my sister for good, beat her just enough that she’d
never need attack me again. How foolish, that I thought winning once would be
“Come closer.” She swept her hand over her goods. “Perhaps I
might ease some of your pain.”
I started to meet with her every time I could sneak away
from the count’s estate. It wasn’t often, but her lessons in the ways of magic
filled me up with a sustenance I didn’t know I craved. I wanted to be her, to
share her easy confidence and capability, to bend the world toward me with a
subtle call the way she did. Her poultices cleared away blemishes and made
water drinkable, but they also could boil blood, shatter bones, freeze a pond.
She let me practice these skills as though they were interchangeable. She let
me build on them, stringing them together like beads on a necklace, as I
practiced on the woods beyond her hut.
The more power I gained, the more I sought. At long last, I
understood the hunger in my sister’s belly. For now, I hungered too.
“You have a keen mind for magic,” she told me, when I worked
something particularly cruel on a sparrow we found feasting on her garden. “A
cruel mind. But I think a girl like you has to be cruel.”
“My sister is cruel. I just wish to survive.”
“Then I hope I’ve equipped you well,” she said. “Be like the wintervine. Feast on cold, on nothingness. For they have given you nothing. Use it to sprout your ice, your thorns.”
I looked at the wintervine where it flourished in the ice, and I felt its loneliness, its stubbornness, its scorn.
At long last I was of age, and my father sent for me once
more. The time to choose was drawing near, but, he confided, in some ways he
feared us both. His kingdom needed a decisive leader, yes, a sturdy leader, but
compassion, too, he said, was called for. He did not see that he’d been the one
to rob us of that. He didn’t see the dark seeds he’d planted in both our minds take
My sister began her attempts anew, but this time, I was
The first men she sent to kill me simply disappeared. They
became nothing more than char burned into the cobbles of my bedroom floor. The
next, though, I made sure she saw, their flayed corpses piled at the palace
gates. Cruelty was my reflex, now, and each test made it stronger still.
“You cannot beat me,” she hissed, over a banquet table while
our father entertained. “I deserve this. I will earn this.”
She cut her steak with a furious scrape of knife and fork.
The noise grated at my soul. When was the last time she had shown kindness? It
had been carved out of her, if it had ever been there at all.
Father wanted to make one of us a queen. He wanted someone
compassionate. Maybe compassion was still in me; maybe not.
But it would never be in her.
As she swallowed, the lump of meat grew thorns. I could
almost feel it myself as I directed it, as it swelled inside her throat, tore
its way through her flesh. She gagged and choked, and I imagined she gagged and
choked on all the hatred she’d let fester for years and years.
I wanted the coldness, the loneliness I felt to be visible
to everyone. I wanted those thorns.
Frost sprouted from my fingertips and webbed across the
banquet table. She scrabbled for a goblet of wine to try to wash the meat down,
but everything turned cold. A guard stepped forward—but she deserved no
kindness, no comfort. I never felt her embrace, so why should she feel the
same? He withered, cold and empty, before he could reach her.
“What is the meaning of this?” my father cried. “Stop this
But the cold was radiant, alive now, warming me even as it
drew warmth away from everything. The dark thorns in my sister’s throat
flourished, drinking up the cold, and twined their way across the table to wrap
around everyone’s limbs. My breath hung in the air before me as I stood,
untouched, unsnared by the darkness and frost.
I had to beat her. I could not let her win.
And if I could feel no warmth, no freedom without her
darkness over me, then neither could anyone.
I do not remember what came next, but it did not come for a
long time. Icicles hung from the chandeliers; black thorns sprouted from the
walls. All was still and glistening and cold. I walked through the hall like a
phantom, soundless, for it was how I felt. But I was all that remained of my
sister’s hatred. I was her greed given form.
And I will rule for a thousand years. With this cruelty
beating inside me, my sister’s words, her greed, her anger—with the coldness
she left inside me—I will rule for a thousand more.
a/n: be more chill x soulmate au. :o its a prologue just to test the waters but I’m stoked. if you wanna be tagged in the series letmeknow.kbyethanx. summary: Jeremy Heere never knew he missed something until he realized he was living a world not only devoid of colors but of a soulmate. After a terrible incident he’s found himself chasing after colors he wants; and realizing there are some colors he needs as well. sincerely tagging: @hell-yes-puns-and-ships for being the best beta ever <3 ilysm warning: pantless Mr. Heere; near drowning incident w/c: 3239K
Menu Screen → 00.
Jeremy looked over at his father who was making a turn signal with his hand as they approached the exit to Jeremy’s high school. “Why…why are you doing this?” He stared blankly at the building coming into view. The grey letters that spelled out ‘Middleborough’ against an even greyer brick background. The perks of only seeing in the spectrum that was devoid of color…the school matched the way Jeremy felt.
Mr. Heere shrugged a little not noticing for a second his son’s deadpanned expression. “You missed your bus, I mean I kept calling you up but you were in your room with the door locked, and the lights off, I’m pretty sure you were at your desk too since you dropped your lotion bottle on the—“
“Ah ok, Dad, I mean why are you driving me to school…WITHOUT ANY PANTS!”
Sherlocked Con USA is over and we’ve been left with..different emotions. Disappointment, despair, confusion, anger… I think it’s totally okay to feel that right now. We need some time to sort out everything. I’ve been in the same condition yesterday. Today I want to calm down and to find some peace and harmony for myself in this fandom.
Our fandom is going through a difficult time now. Even the most united parts of it are starting to separate. It’s totally understandable in the light of everything that happened in the last couple of days.
I’d like to write down some thoughts about Mofftiss’ statements.
For me it’s the most difficult part.
Her revelation as a villain should’ve been the most LOGICAL conclusion for her character’s arc.
I’m not going to repeat everything we already know about Mary being coded as a villain throughout TEH-T6T. Just a short list of the most suspicious (for me) “coincidences“ regarding her character’s arc:
“Miss me?” / “Go to hell, Sherlock” The writers could choose any possible inscription for her posthumous DVD, but they decided to add another parallel between Mary and Moriarty. And then they left the audience with a feeling of “Oh my God, she’s planning something, something bad, just like Moriarty”. If you didn’t want your audience to suspect something, if you wanted to turn her into Saint Mary, you should’ve STOPPED MAKING THESE PARALLELS as soon as possible
She killed the protagonist. Not “nicely”, Mofftiss. You wrote this: “One more step, Sherlock, and I swear I will kill you”. And she killed him. Period. She never said “sorry”, never showed any signs of regret for causing Sherlock and John so much pain. “We are even” is a bullshit.
What a coincidence that she appeared in John’s life when he was mourning Sherlock for almost two years. What a coincidence that she is an ex-assassin. What a coincidence that Mycroft was AWARE OF HER PAST, he even hired A.G.R.A. a couple of times. Mofftiss, do you even know your own show?
Her death scene is a violation of everything we’ve been told in HLV about shooting in a chest. What’s impossible, as Molly said? 1) You don’t fly away after the bullet hit you (TICK). 2) There’s no big stream of blood (TICK). 3) You have 30 seconds of consciousness before passing out, there’s no time for heartbreaking speech (TICK). BONUS: the laws of physics are not for Mary, apparently.
So, they told us that they used this surname just because there were three men hanging out outside the window in Sherrinford. What kind of bullshit is THAT? They mentioned several times that “The Three Garridebs” is precious and important for Holmes’ reaction on Watson’s injury. They KNEW that this question will be raised sooner or later. Why didn’t they just use ANOTHER SURNAME for these men? There’s no logic, no sense. At all.
Redbeard / Victor Trevor
The decision that was made in the last minute? So, in TSoT we heard the word “Redbeard” for the first time. 2nd and 3rd are in TAB (in the greehouse scene / in Mycroft’s notebook). They want to tell that there was NO PLAN, they just trusted their guts and never knew what’s the purpose of these plot moves?
What the hell, or my ambigious conclusion
“Mary’s issue” is the biggest one that make me believe in Mofftiss’ madness. While there’s still too much evidence for her revelation as a villain, I can believe that they genuinely considered Mary’s redemption arc as a good plot twist. Why could these two self-proclaimed ACD’s fanboys (who are TOTALLY AWARE of Mary Morstan’s minor role in canon) be sure that this is a great idea to add to their adaptation a badass Mary, who later turns into Saint Mary, I have no idea.
Some people are suspecting that there’s some connection between Amanda Abbington’s personal relantionships with Mofftiss (especially with Gatiss), hence her benefit performance in T6T (”BBC Mary”, urgh). If this is the case, I have only one thing to say: it’s totally stupid and unprofessional. NOTHING, including real-life relantionships, SHOULD INFLUENCE YOUR NARRATIVE’S LOGIC. Otherwise they’re truly bad writers, who doesn’t care about their own beloved show, not to mention the audience.
Oh, and that’s the problem. If Mofftiss are not lying, then they (and the other crew members, like Arwel) are TOTALLY UNAWARE OF THEIR AUDIENCE’S DEVOTION TO THE SHOW. They’ve been filming “Sherlock” for seven years so far, they’ve seen the dozens/hundreds of fans on setlock and conventions. I’m sure they were aware of the fact that there are lots of meta and analysis of the (sub)text of “Sherlock”. Right now they are behaving like they’re genuinely don’t understand that their show has multimillion audience, and some fans love it wholeheartedly. Moffat, who said to the DW fans that if they don’t read the subtext, then “hell mend you”, apparently, decided not to apply the same rule to “Sherlock”. They want us to believe that there was no long-term plan, that the majority of plot moves were made without any ideas how it’ll be revealed in the future.
What are my thoughts about everything? Well, I’ve chosen not to be on one particular side.
There are things that are still bothering me. 1) I don’t want to believe in any single word from Arwel about the glowing skull. If he “just wanted it to glow” (for fuck’s sake, what the hell is that), then I see it as very disappointing and unprofessional decision. You want to fill the show about a detective / deductions / the power of observations with “meaningless” details that CAPTURE AUDIENCE’S ATTENTION (well, hello, I remind you that this bastard turned black in TLD when Sherlock had been on the edge of death / in the scene with Lestrade in T6T this bastard took the half of the screen glowing like fucking supernova)? You should think twice. Think about your audience above all, PLEASE, and not about something you “want” to add. 2) Their lies about “limited budget” were so blatant, I dont even know what to add. And I don’t understand what’s the problem with “limited budget”? It has nothing to do with the ability of writing your show cohesively. 3) Sue and her explanation of the scene in ASiP made me laugh, cry and scream. So, Sherlock and John, who knew each other for a DAY at that moment, should’ve said to Mrs. Hudson that they’re needing ONE bedroom to be coded as homosexuals?! Jeez, do you, LGB-fellas, frequently move in with same-sex flatmate and start to sleep in one bedroom from day one? Apparently, yes, according to Sue’s comment. I’m not insulting Sue, I just want to point out that her statement makes no sense. It’s ridiculous. 4) Yes, I still can’t accept the fact that Mofftiss used more than 150 romantic tropes unintentionally. “Homoerotic subtext” got out of their control. Some blatant parallels and mirrors are right on the surface of the show and I can’t believe they weren’t aware of that. What about Ben and Martin’s acting choices? If they considered this show as a romance (since Moffat claims there wasn’t any long-term plan), why Mofftiss never asked them to “slow down” a little? But that’s the point where things are becoming confusing. They filmed the Gay Pilot. Ben said (sorry, can’t add a link, but trust me, I learnt this words by heart) that he agreed to take part in this adaptation’s filming only after Mofftiss told him IN WHAT DIRECTION Holmes and Watson’s RELANTIONSHIP will evolve. We all know what happened to their relantionship in S4. No sense. Martin said “Sherlock” is the gayest TV show. Queerbaiting? Everything’s possible.
My dear fandom-mates, trust YOURSELF, trust your own eyes and hearts. Our reading of the show isn’t wrong. We have too much facts on which (!) our theories are based. I can’t express how proud I am of every single fan artist, fic writer, meta writer. How proud I am of everyone who believe in this beautiful love story. YOU made sense of this show. YOU deepened it’s (sub)text. We don’t deserve the writers’ lies, insults and gaslighting. We don’t deserve being treated like immature individuals. No matter if they have an explanation for all the S4 fuckiness / if there’s the logical conclusion for their story in some kind of special episode or S5 - I won’t praise them. Never again. I’d like to thank them for S1-TAB, because it is very good and coherent story (yes, they wrote it accidentally, hahahah). I’d like to thank Ben and Martin for everything.
I’m not leaving the fandom. Never. I love this show too much. I’m still onboard with some speculations and theories (we have too much facts worth analysing, I guess, and it doesn’t matter at all if Mofftiss never intended these theories to be true). My blog won’t turn into Mofftiss’ hatred. I’m tired of negativity in my real life. We have a lot to discuss, so let’s enjoy it. Of course, I’ll be salty towards anything that comes from our beloved writers’ mouths, but I won’t spread negativity.
I love you so much, my friends. Please, take care of yourself. Media and fictional worlds are important (very much!), but our mental health is something we need to take care of above all.
Quick summery: Jungkook goes to the same college as you do, sells and takes drugs, and make you buy it too. When he was helping you out to smoke it some tensions build.
Warnings: no real warnings, just smut, and if you don’t like drugs especially weed, you shoudn’t read this
Ok, have fun ^^
first few weeks in college were pretty easy to live. You’ve found a
small apartment you really liked, it wasn’t far away from your
college and it wasn’t a pain in the butt to transport your groceries
since the super market was the building next door. You barely saw
your neighbors so you lived in the quite. But it suited you well,
because you never were an outgoing person on your own.
you told your parents about your plan to study arts and
communication, they were a bit concerned about your future life.
Because “What would you do as an Artist?” and “You won’t get
enough money when you’re old”, but you couldn’t care less. It was a
dream of yours to study arts (you’d chosen communication just to calm
your parents down), you wanted to see what your were able to do and
the most exciting part, the people you will meet at an arts college.
Zelink AU where Zelda is a princess and Link is a guard who she’s trying to make laugh but can’t seem to crack. Part two of a larger fic of similar short bursts. Not attached to any particular game. Fluff af.
“What do you think of him?”
The King’s mustache quivered as he turned to look at his daughter, his eyes glimmering with mirth. “I hadn’t realized you cared so much about my personal opinion of every soldier, dove.”
He knew about her antics just as well as anyone; she didn’t hide the way she spent her free time. She had to wonder, however, how much the other soldiers reported how much time she spent with Link. If her father was curious as to why she hadn’t yet moved on.
Well, she decided, taking a deep breath, there was only one way to find out.
“Not every soldier, papa,” she said. “Just Soldier Cearneigh.”
Lukas: “That’s quite a nasty cough you’ve developed,” Lukas’s voice carried into your tent with a gentle softness, taking care not to exacerbate your headache. You groaned anyways, the miserable feeling all over your body not making you particularly welcoming.
“Don’t have to tell me that.” You grumbled, pulling the thin blankets over you as best you could. Lukas smiled at your pitiful attempts, setting aside the bowl in his hands to help you.
“Are you feeling any better than before?” He questioned you next, reaching down to properly tuck the blankets around you. You hummed a sound that was akin to a “thank you”, and shook your head.
“Everything s-still hurts.” You stuttered, burying your face in the pillow. Lukas sat down by your head, gently carding his hand through your hair. You weren’t one to get sick often, but when you did, it hit hard.
Chapter 16 is up!!! This chapter has 8000 words and it took me a lot to write! Sorry for being inactive, I just wanted to have it all neatly tied before I continued forward. This chapter is important! So please enjoy and read carefully~
In other news… this blog almost reached the 1000 followers!! It’s a really HUGE number, specially taking into account that this is a fic, and generally fics get less attention than comics, [sad truth </3], so I’m really excited for this! Thank you all for following my story <3
I think that once I reach 1000 words I’ll start working on a small comic featuring Athela <3 So you get to know her better… know what I mean?
Really, guys, THANK YOU! I am so pumped!!!
I’ll leave you to the fic now~
For those who can’t access AO3 or just don’t want to do it, the chapter is pasted under this sexy cut!!!
This is sooo late and I am so sorry!! But here it is, also special shoutout to the LOVELY @iamacolor cause she’s the one who inspired me to write this fic!
“Ravenclaw!” The sorting hat declared.
She smiles and walks proudly to her assigned house table. Generation after generation of Slytherins and now she has broken that tradition.
But her family won’t mind. The Bakkoushs don’t care much for silly notions of arrogant customs or unnatural house pride, as long as their children were happy. They’re pure bloods but unlike some other families, they’ve never been the type to look down at associating with half-bloods or muggle borns.
After all, her brother’s best friend, Yousef Acar, was a muggleborn. He smiles and waves at her from the Hufflepuff table.
Quidditch tryouts went better than expected. She was the youngest chaser in the Ravenclaw team.
And now she was playing against her brother. She smirks at him as the two teams line up against one another. His grin is equally arrogant and oh it’s on.
“Go Sanaaaa! Go Eliaaaas!” Yousef cheers from the crowd, and both Bakkoush siblings turn around to see him waving a green and silver flag in his left hand and a blue and bronze one in his right hand. It brings a smile to their faces.
The teams kick off on their brooms and Sana is determined to win her first game. She’s small but fierce, and the speed with which she flies surprises some of the older players.
Goal after goal, the Ravenclaw team keeps scoring but the Slytherin players aren’t too worried. They have their eyes on the snitch.
Elias is so close, arm outstretched and finger tips almost touching the tiny golden ball, but at the last second Mari swoops in and grabs it.
Cheers erupt as the Ravenclaw team is announced the winner by Quidditch commentator Mahdi Disi.
Sana swooshes around on her broom and does a victory lap while Elias rolls his eyes but is secretly happy for his sister, even though his own team lost.
Far below on the stands, she spots Yousef, waving the Ravenclaw flag and cheering as loudly as he can.
And she feels incredibly happy.
Summer Break Between Year Two and Year Three:
Yousef is staying over for the weekend. He is pathetic at Quidditch but that won’t stop Elias from making him get on a broom and attempt to hit the Quaffle. Half the time he’s trying to make sure he’s not falling off and any time the Quaffle comes near him he ducks instead of striking.
Sana watches from the sidelines until she can’t bear it any more.
“Elias you’re the worst teacher” she says as Yousef climbs down from his broom.
“And you can do better?”
“Oh please. Even Mom is better at Quidditch than you.”
Yousef makes an “oooooooohhhh” sound at the burn and Elias tosses his broom to Sana in response. “Fine, prove it then. By the end of the summer if he can beat me in a game then I’ll be your slave for an entire week. And vice versa.”
She smirks. “Get ready to serve Elias.”
Sana is a patient and caring teacher, not all relentless energy like Elias, but just the right amount of passion mixed with encouragement.
“You’re going about this the wrong way.” She says as he swerves out of the way once again when the Quaffle is near him.
“You’re on defensive mode and you have to relax. Don’t worry about getting hurt, trust me you won’t. The Quaffle is not your enemy, it’s your friend. You have to pull it towards you, not push it away. Only then can you score.”
“Pull it towards me, not push it away.” He repeats as he flies closer to Sana.
“Yes.” She says when his shoulder is almost brushing hers, and for a second they both forget the game.
“So how’s it going future slave?” Elias shouts from his bedroom window and they both whip their heads around to glare at him.
“Let’s do this” Yousef says with renewed zeal.
Sana truly enjoyed the week of having Elias do her bidding.
Sana makes sure that her Butterbeer is the non alcoholic version. She takes her first sip and the savors the warm butterscotch flavor running down her throat.
It’s her first time in Hogsmeade and so far she’s loving it. All her closest friends are here and smiles as she looks around their little group with girls from every house. Eva and Noora are Gryffindors, Chris is a Hufflepuff and Vilde is a Slytherin.
Outside she sees her brother and his friends making a snow man. Yousef sticks the carrot nose on his round face and it’s complete.
They hadn’t talked much once school had started, but something had definitely changed during summer. She always had a sort of crush on him but she never thought it was reciprocated. But those last few weeks of August, for the first time it had seemed, that she was wrong.
Yousef asks her out to the Yule Ball.
She wears shimmering blue robes with a floral white hijab. She taps her foot impatiently as the Champion Waltz drags on and on, and she can see Yousef standing on the other side, just as impatient.
When it’s finally time for them to dance, they both become shy. All that excitement from earlier is now turned to nervousness once they’re face to face.
Sana makes the first move and puts her hand on his shoulder. He gingerly wraps an arm around her waist and they twine their free hands together. They slowly sway with the music and with each second, the awkwardness falls away.
Unfortunately, Sana is as good at dancing as Yousef is at playing Quidditch. So she steps on his feet a few times but he just laughs it off.
“I told you I was a terrible dancer.”
He spins her around before replying, “Yet there’s no one else I would rather have as my partner.”
Sana blushes and stammers out a “sorry” as she steps on his toe once again.
But he gently guides and teaches her, just like she taught him.
It’s so beautiful. He thinks as Sana takes his hand and walks into the Room of Requirement.
It’s a masjid, with calligraphy engraved on the high ceilings and mimbars and shelves stacked with Qurans. He’s amazed.
“I didn’t feel comfortable praying in the dorm rooms, so I just walked by three times hoping for a masjid and when I enter, this place is waiting for me.”
He recalls what Mutasim told him about this room. It is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker’s needs.
“And it is there every time?”
“Every time.” She says happily.
It’s her sanctuary, and he knows how special and private this area is to her, so it means a lot to him that she chose to share it with him.
He couldn’t have asked for a better final year at Hogwarts.
She’s so stressed about exams, constantly revising and falling asleep in libraries.
Yousef writes her letters and talks about his experiences working at the Ministry of Magic and how he really doesn’t think it suits him. He’d much rather work as a teacher at Hogwarts, teaching potions to the students.
She reads them whenever she takes a break, and writes back lengthy letters of her own.
The graduate seventh year students leave the Castle in a poetic and symbolic way, as they say goodbye to their beloved school via the enchanted boats that took them to Hogwarts prior to the start of their first year.
Sana sits on her boat with Chris, Eva, Noora and Vilde.
On either side of the lake families are clapping and taking photographs as each boat passes by.
“Sanaaaa!” Her father calls out and she spots them all standing together. Her parents, Elias, Jamilla and her big brother Ahmed, and Yousef.
He had come to her graduation ceremony as well.
In the letter he had sent last night, he had said, “I’m going to start teaching Potions at Hogwarts from next fall. It’s a shame that I’m coming back when you’re leaving. It’s okay, at least I know that if my students don’t like me and I get hexed, I’ll get a special discount at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries from Dr. Sana Bakkoush.”
She had rolled her eyes. As if anyone would ever hex Yousef, he would probably be the most popular Potions professor in the history of Hogwarts.
They all make embarrassing whooping noises as her boat passes by and she looks into Yousef’s camera and gives him a big smile as he clicks.
She would miss these halls, the forests, her special room so much. Hogwarts was her second home and it’s very hard to say goodbye.
But her heart lifts at the thought of her future and all the adventures that are yet to come, and she’s happy because even though this beloved chapter of her life is coming to a close, it’s a good ending, and an even better beginning.
Summary: Just an evening with Bones and Jim in which you want to set your friend Bones up with someone and your boyfriend, Jim, won’t let you.
Prompt: the “Aw, babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing.” scene from Parks and Recreation.
Warnings: language, friends bein’ friends
A/N: IT’S ALL DIALOGUE. s’not really a jim kirk fic, i guess. but there’s a reader x jim pairing. it’s friends talking to friends, making fun of friends, hanging out with friends. it’s a good ass time, folks.
Standing in the doorway of his office, Leonard glowered at you with his most exhausted scowl.
You would have been offended and thought the action to be a result of your sitting in his chair with your feet atop the desk had it not been for the large wet spot darkening the blue fabric of his uniform from rib to hip.
He held a towel to the lake-sized spot— a towel that you could only describe as the color of unbrushed teeth— and strands of his dark hair abandoned its clean ‘do to fall into his hazel eyes, his head tipped downwards.
You clicked your tongue and scoffed loudly in annoyance when he neared the desk and used the back of his PADD to swat at your boots repeatedly, only stopping when your feet hit the ground. “What the fuck’s your problem?”
“Ask me what’s on my shirt, (Y/N). Do me the great pleasure of askin’ that.” A sigh heavy enough to contain the weight of the world left his lips as he fell into the thinner, much smaller chair across the desk.
Frowning as you watched him struggle to hold his head up as if he was imitating an infant, you complied. “What is on your shirt, Leonard?”
“This, sweetheart, is the piss from a man’s bedpan,” he told you, rubbing his left eye with two of his fingers. “Now ask me how that happened.”
“How did that happen?” you almost deadpanned.
“One of his jackass ensign pals spilled somethin’ on the floor n’ slipped on it, knocked right into me.” He dropped his hands to sit on either of his knees. “Ask me what was in my hands.”
Congrats on 1.5k!! I love your blog and your fics :-) I'd love option 1, here's my prompt: character A slowly falls in love with character B over the course of several years, realization hits them that they’ve been in love with B for a long time hits them like a truck
If Jyn ever had to pick just one thing she likes best about Cassian, it would definitely be his straightforwardness.
Cassian doesn’t beat around the bush the way Bodhi does, or speak in enigmatic riddles the way Chirrut is so fond of doing. Neither is he insensitive or clinical like Kay can be, or gruff and phlegmatic the way Baze sometimes is.
Don’t get her wrong. It’s not that Baze doesn’t care. It’s just that what most people see as problems, Baze almost always sees as nothing. Chances are, if no one’s dying or dead, you won’t be able to get Baze to lift so much as an eyebrow.
It had pissed her off at first, meeting someone as forthright and frank as her. That sort of thing can lead to misunderstandings — the kind that generates and fuels a heated, drawn-out rivalry all throughout college.
After a few years, she’d gradually discovered Cassian’s unique knack for telling it like it is in a way that, miraculously enough, doesn’t grate on her nerves or make her feel like she’s being patronised. He’s always serious enough that she believes him, and yet light enough that she feels comfortable bouncing dry jokes off him. He just knows how to word things so that she gets it instantly, without wasting time or effort having to clarify or ask for more detail.
More importantly, when it comes to him, she never has to guess. She hates guessing.
She thinks it’s a big part of the reason why they’d called it a truce and eventually became best friends.
Which is why it especially annoys her whenever people ask her why she and him have never dated.
With 1DFF being down and out of business (whether that’s forever or not is still unclear), tumblr seems to be the prime place for all our favourite fanfictions to be posted. There’s nothing wrong with tumblr at all, I very much like tumblr myself, but sometimes we, as authors, want to get the very best we can out of it – and so, yes, that includes how to reach a wider audience to help boost our stories. Of course we write for ourselves and all that jazz, but there’s just something nice about having someone appreciate all the hard work you put into something, am I right?
So, with all this in mind, I’ve put together a little list of things I’ve learnt over the years when it comes to tumblr and posting my own fics on tumblr.
Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe.
This story is ongoing, so if you missed a part, or are new to the story, please use the link to the masterpost below to catch yourself up:
Part 48 - The Final Rose
I waited anxiously for his arrival as I paced in yet another luxurious suite.
It’s fair to say that as hard as the breakups had been, not knowing if he’d agree to come back with me was far more nerve wracking than anything I’d ever dealt with in my life.
Now that Harry’s album is deeply ingrained into my soul, I’ve thought about some of the more valid and fair minded criticisms. The verdict is in: I wouldn’t change a single word - not a note - not a syllable. The album has flaws - he sings, “
I gotta get better, gotta get better .” way too many times in MMitH, but I was never looking for perfection - I was listening for Harry’s voice. (Still love MMitH, but that part is very repetitive.)
Harry has all the right connections, talent and tools - he could have made a red-hot pop album with 2-4 #1 hits. He would have insisted that it was beautifully produced - steering away from auto-tune and overproduction. It would have been a brilliant, uniquely Harry album. The other thing it would have been is a compromise and that’s not really the point of doing a solo album - is it? Harry’s album is his statement - unashamedly refusing to pander to current tastes and trends. He didn’t know if it would be well received. I believe he always wanted to play the small, iconic venues, but to tour only those - he wasn’t sure how well this album would sell.
The album is not just a glimpse into who Harry is, but where he is right now. It’s his perspective, above all else. He’s a young man (albeit a very enlightened one) surrounded, in large part, by men. His musical influences are from a different time with different social sensibilities. (Although Harry’s tropes are quite tame compared to current R&B or Rap.) Harry Styles is the work of a man - a human being with warts and flaws - it’s a very honest work. It’s true that many of his lyrics don’t quite reach the level of greatness he may aspire to. Again, this album is where and who he is today - and that’s a beautiful thing. I also listen to Bach, Beethoven, etc - most of their music doesn’t have words at all. Harry said it was easier to say certain things to an instrument than a person - what a wise and insightful thought. Don’t underestimate what the music can tell you - show you - well beyond the scope of mere words. When I first read Harry’s lyrics, I had no idea what to think - it didn’t sound anything like the Harry I know. When I first listened to the album, it was more, so much more, than the words in the lyrics. The song-craft of this album is truly masterful. Sounds beautifully layered - often rich and full, but always restrained enough to pull back and strip bare - to just his voice and acoustic guitar. (If I were forced to make one change, I would use the Corden version of Two Ghosts on the album - damn that was powerful!)
I’m not surprised that Harry is getting attention from Iconic music legends. There is no way in hell that Stevie Nicks, or Mick Fleetwood could be bribed into supporting Harry - they do it, because they believe in him and his music. Same goes for Cameron Crowe (who is a bit of an ass, for sure) Christopher Nolan, etc., etc.. Do you think Ronnie Wood performed on stage with 1D as some cheap PR gimmick? No way in hell, not at this point in his life and career. I think it’s pretty easy to spot the cheap, PR “endorsements” (”Louis” tweeting about that Craig person. I think his first or last name is Craig right?) If you’re one who thinks Harry Styles is a collection of rip-offs from classic songs - that is just wrong. Do you think Jeff Bhasker would put his name on a bunch of half-assed, plagiarized music? Do you honestly think he would do that to his name and career? Did the Beatles invent music? The Isley Brothers had a huge influence on the Beatles - they even covered Twist and Shout. If you listen to The Everly Brothers it’s painfully obvious how much they influenced the Beatles, as well. Art isn’t crated in a vacuum, but built on what has come before. Originally can only go so far, before you create something in a “language” no one can understand or relate to. Harry’s album has something that few critics put any value in at all - beauty. Music critics and snobs are always looking for edgy, ugly, contorted “original” sounds. That cadre can keep their ugly music for themselves. I’ll be quite happy listening to Harry Styles, thank you very much.
I always thought, in regards to the stability of his kingdom, Robbs betrothal to Roslin Frey was, in the long run the best thing that could have happened to him. After the Tullys, the Frey probably have a good chance of being the strongest Riverlands house, and they control the border between the two parts of his kingdom, therefore tying them both together. But the impression I get is that most fans think Robb's hand was "wasted" on Roslin. Am I missing something?
Thanks for the question, Anon.
Well, to be impossibly pedantic, Robb’s betrothal was not specifically to Roslin Frey. Catelyn notes that “[h]is lordship has graciously consented to allow you to choose whichever girl you prefer”, and while Roslin was almost certainly on Lord Walder’s mental list of “suitable” Freys, she was not the only choice.
Anywho. I think the problem with Robb’s betrothal was nicely discussed by @racefortheironthrone in his Chapter-by-Chapter Analysis of “Catelyn IX”. Robb’s hand is by far the most valuable nuptial bargaining chip House Stark has at that point (particularly at this moment, when Robb is not yet Lord of Winterfell in his own right, or King in the North and of the Trident). Robb does need to cross at that moment, but Catelyn sold his hand for a cheap price - the 4,000 swords House Frey commands are far more than that which Robb got from his Westerling bride’s House, but hardly a backbreaking percentage of Robb’s eventual strength. What makes the bargain appear even worse a deal for the Starks is that, as that CBC Analysis pointed out, Walder already wanted to betroth one of his daughters to Edmure Tully - Walder in fact explicitly states that he had tried to negotiate a marriage, but that Hoster Tully had shot it down with “sweet words” and “excuses”. Catelyn did not have the express authority to make a marriage for her brother (not that that stopped her offering, without Robb’s consent, to have Robb set aside his crown in favor of a Great Council’s vote), but such a match would have been a much more reasonable exchange, keeping Robb’s valuable hand free while still giving Walder something he really wanted.
Around a week ago, I went to see the edge of Cebu city alone. But there was a dozen of other people who went to see the view as well. I had a solo drinking session that night. I stargazed, listened to my favorite songs with that chilly breeze of a summer night. And while I was there, I did a lot of thinking.
Why does Cebu never sleep at night? Why do you smell of orange trees? Cebu, you don’t give much answers, do you, friend? Only questions that never end. Have you ever had an infatuation with someone at age 20? How in one night did I come so far? Why am I high on your perfume? Cebu, I mean no offense, but why does nothing in here makes sense?
In a world that won’t let us feel, that’s moving too fast, I have found you. I know for a fact that we can never happen, but I’m constantly drawn into you. I think part of me knew that when I saw you, and how this would eventually happen. Everything from your smile to the sound of your laughter brings light to the darkest places. The way words roll off your tongue seems as if it’s a spoken lullaby. Yet, it’s more than that, it’s the similarities that keep me thinking that maybe in another time or world, just maybe, there would be a chance. And, crazy thing is, I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel this way again. But I don’t think if I should.
Why, Cebu? Why such beauty in this place? I like my memories as they were. But now I’m leaving remembering you. Just you.
Let’s see… I started shipping Kara and Lena by episode 3 after Kara wrote her first article about her and they had their first couch scene. I wasn’t part of the fandom yet, so I had no idea what their ship name was, only that they hooked me because they were two beautiful, awesome women that seemed to have a lot of chemistry, respect one another’s point of view, and feel a sense of comfort around each other. Of course, it escalated from there.
I really liked the fact that Lena seemed to open up to Kara so easily and also thought back to how Lena made a point of supporting and elevating Kara before they even really knew one another. That isn’t something that you see too often when it comes to women both on and off of TV. So that immediately piqued my interest and I was thrilled at the idea of a Super/Luthor dynamic being different than it has in past portrayals.
Now, their relationship is easily one of my absolute favorite things about the show! I can’t wait to see where they end up taking the two of them.