did you know i know the names of words are strange

If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.
Word Count: 11,068
Warnings: Lots of religious talk, homophobia, physical fight, smut
A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this because I was tired of people writing a religious fic where Phil continuously tries to get Dan to sin. So this came out, where they both respect each other despite their religious differences (With a dash of sex at the end). If you’re uncomfortable reading smut then no worries! It’s easy to tell when they’re going to get it on and it ends at the ’-’ and is very close to the end (: Lastly, special thanks to @insanityplaysfics for betaing this for me and giving me this entire idea! Also thank you @phandommother for helping me out with the idea as well and listening to me rant about it :’)
Title Creds: Cement - Citizen
Read it on AO3

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Phil didn’t know why he decided to take the class. None of his friends were taking it and it honestly seemed like a lot of shit that Phil didn’t particularly care about, shit that didn’t really help him with his future career in any way. It seemed like a class that had a lot of reading, reading that Phil would probably never do, and let’s be honest, he probably only took the class because it had the word ‘sex’ in the title.

He walked into his Sex in the Bible class five minutes late on his first day.

The teacher didn’t bat an eye. Heads didn’t turn to look at him. Phil just sauntered in and stood at the back of the lecture room with his backpack slung over one shoulder while he scanned the room for a seat. Sometimes he forgot just how uncaring everyone was in university. He could just walk in ten to twenty minutes late and nobody would give a shit. Especially not in a class where there were over one hundred students.

(He didn’t understand why there were so many students in Sex in the Bible. They probably also just took the class because of the word ‘sex’).

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All For Show

Valentine’s Day Special #2

Pair : Steve Rogers x Reader

8. You ask your best friend to pretend to be your boyfriend for your sisters couples dinner party. Requested by anon. 

Warning : Language

Word Count : 2,434

Three knocks, that’s all it took before Steve opened the door. He stood there, wearing a tank top and sweats, and his hair damped from sweat, which only meant he just came back from the gym.

“Hey, didn’t expect you here today.” He smiled, waving you in.

“I know, but I needed to talk to you.”

You walked in to his apartment, and plopped down onto his couch. His place was like your second home. You were always there, and if you weren’t, then you two were at your place.

“Beer?” He asked, walking to the kitchen.

“Nah, just water.”

Steve tossed you a water bottle, as he started back toward the living room where you waited.

You took a big swig of the water and felt the cold liquid trickle down your throat. Making you feel somewhat at ease.

“So what did you need to talk to me about?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall across from you.

For some reason you were feeling nervous. Which was strange. Steve was your best friend. You two were so close, you were able to talk to him about anything. He’s seen you in sweats with no makeup on. He’s helped you when you were a drunken mess. And yet, you were somehow nervous about this topic.

“Y/N.” he snapped his fingers, catching your attention. “You okay?”

You slowly nodded, running your hand through your hair. Something you did when you were nervous.

“So my sister is throwing a couples party tomorrow night, and when I RSVP’d a month ago, I was dating Jared-”

“The asshole.” He cut you off.

“Woah, language.” You teased.

He dramatically rolled his eyes and huffed. “Anyways, go on.”

“As I was saying, I told her I’d go and now she’s expecting me to be there.”

“So?” He drawled out.

You swallowed hard, meeting your best friends gaze.

“I was wondering if you can go as my fake boyfriend.” You slightly winced as the words finally fell from your lips.

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Family’s What You Make Of It

Family’s What You Make Of It | It starts when Dan stumbles through the door of his two bedroom flat with an attractive stranger attached to his mouth, and it ends with, well… a family. Or, the one where Dan is a single father of a three year old, who intends for Phil to be nothing more than a one night stand until he see’s him interact with his daughter for the first time. | Phan | Mature | Smut, self-neglect, implied self-esteem issues, single father Dan | 4,374 Words

Thank you so @phansdick for encouraging me (as always) and then being wonderful and beta’ing for me without me even having to ask ;)

(Ao3 Link)

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I Don’t Mean It (pt 7)

You hesitated to open the door. You didn’t even know if Taehyung was going to be there, but something told you that he was. You look through the little peephole as if you didn’t know who was at the door. Your heart sank when you could see all seven figures there. You smiled a little though as Hoseok leaned in close to the little hole and tried to peek back.

You opened the door slowly and greeted the boys, letting them into your apartment. 

The next couple of hours went by as they usually would have. Some of the boys raided your fridge, but to their dismay, it was rather empty. Taehyung didn’t bother even looking at you or talking to you, so you wondered why he even bothered to come. He eventually excused himself to get some air on your balcony. You felt a rush of cold air rush into your otherwise warm apartment as he slid the door open. You watched his figure walk out and promptly close the door behind him.

You finally felt a little at ease, but you still didn’t know how to confront him or when. The other guys noticed the strange look on your face.

“This actually worked out well. Less work on our part” Yoongi said out of the blue.

“What?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“We actually wanted you and Tae to talk things out but we didn’t really know how to get you two alone. But this works out” Namjoon said.

“Alone? What are you talking about” you asked again.

“Yeah…we’re going to go ahead and go. You two talk and figure this out” Jin said as he and the rest of the boys got up.

“You can do it Y/N!” Jungkook said as he patted your shoulder as he and the rest of the boys walked past you. You stood there in shock. You were finally, quite literally, forced to confront Taehyung.

You finally noticed Jimin standing in front of you, not realizing that he didn’t walk out with the rest of the group.

“You can do this Y/N. We’ll always be here for you, ok? Let me know how it goes” he says with a sad smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, but you could still feel your heart race.

A few moments after the six of them were gone, you awkwardly fidgeted around your living room, constantly checking to see if Taehyung showed any signs of coming back in. After a few more minutes, you had your back faced to the balcony, checking your phone after you received a few messages from Min Joo.

You heard the balcony door open and the cold air once again and you after what felt like a few hours, you turned around. Taehyung looked around the room and he seemed very confused. 

“Where are they?” he asked finally. You realized you hadn’t heard his voice in almost two months and you realized just now how much you missed it. 

“They uh, just left.” you said, trying to sound calm while it felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. You hated confrontation with a passion.

“Why? You know what, nevermind. I’ll leave too” he said, starting to walk towards the front door behind you.

“Wait! Tae!” you said hurriedly.

Tae. You let the name slip. He probably didn’t like you calling him that. Not anymore at least. But little did you know that it made his heart skip a beat too. He missed your voice just as much as you missed his.

“What?” he asked dryly. He was afraid of showing any emotion because he was scared of forgiving you in a heartbeat.

“C-can we talk?” you ask, not daring to look into his eyes.

“About?” he asks bac.

“A-about us? I-I just want to know what really happened between us” you asked. You were trying so hard not to let the tears form but the stinging in your eyes told you that you didn’t have much longer till you broke.

“I think I already told you how I felt.” he said coldly.

“Taehyung what the hell did I do to you?” you say, wanting to finally get it all out. 

He groaned in response. 

“Fine, you want to talk? Let’s talk Y/N” he said quite loudly. You flinched in response. “Why are you pretending to be so innocent? I know what you fucking did” he spat out.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, begging him to spill.

“Are you really going to pretend like you don’t know what you did Y/N?” he said, getting louder with almost every word. You could feel the tears start to form in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say back.

“The reporter? The article he wrote? The payment? Any of the fucking ring a bell?” he says.

“what? what reporter? what article?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“YOU TALKED TO A REPORTER. YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT ALL THE SECRETS I SHARED WITH YOU. AND YOU EVEN TOOK MONEY AS SOME PAYMENT. DID YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULDNT FIND OUT?” he was yelling now. If you weren’t scared before, you were now. You had never seen him so angry. He took a glass from the kitchen counter and threw it on the ground. The glass shattered immediately, almost as quickly as your heart.

“Taehyung I never talked to any reporter, let alone take any money.” you say through the tears.

“Oh just shut it. I know the truth, so stop denying it. How…how could you take advantage of our friendship like that? Take advantage of the rest of the members like that?” he asks with a sadness clearly evident in his eyes.

You were full out crying now, with your heart breaking more and more with every word he said. 

“Taehyung..I-I d-didn’t.” you said, starting to sob.

“SHUT IT. You..you’re disgusting” he says, heaving.

“You…You really believe that? You think..you think that lowly of me?” you ask slowly, still looking at the ground. “You really think I did something that terrible?”

“I wouldn’t put it beyond you.” he said coldly.

“And nothing I say would make you believe me?” you ask finally.

“What excuse could you possibly give. I would never believe you. You’re no better than the rest of them. Just wait until I tell the rest of guys. I never want to see you again” he spat out.

“I-I guess that’s it then.” you said

Taehyung took one final glance at you. He didn’t know why his heart sank seeing you cry the way you did. The way you looked completely broken. “she deserves it, though” he tells himself as he walks out the door.


A/N: omg finally the confrontation. I think I might go back to texts for the next part if it fits with the plot but I’m not sure yet. Want a part 8? Let me know or I won’t write one ha!  

Thanks for all the support so far! It’s been fun writing this series. 

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Maggie Stiefvater talks 'All the Crooked Saints,' and here's a first look at the cover

Maggie Stiefvater may have concluded the Raven Cycle just last year, but the author already has a new stand-alone YA novel hitting shelves later this year.

The book, titled All the Crooked Saints, takes place in the 1960s in Bicho Raro, Colorado and follows the lives of three members of the Soria family-each of whom is searching for their own miracle. There’s Beatriz, who appears to lack feelings but wants to study her mind; Daniel, the “Saint” of Bicho Raro, a miracle worker for everyone but himself; and Joaquin (a.k.a. Diablo Diablo), who runs a pirate radio station at night.

Adding to the mystery (and magic) of the book is the book’s intriguing cover-which EW is pleased to reveal exclusively below.

“There are owls in the book because owls are a very scientific creature that gets credited with a lot of magical superstitions,” Stiefvater tells EW. “There are roses in the book because roses are a very magical flower that take a lot of science to truly understand. Put that together and well - as the kids say, that’s it. That’s the book.”

With Stiefvater’s latest novel set to hit stores on Oct. 10, EW caught up with the bestselling author to find out more about what’s in store for readers, her process, and of course, her upcoming Ronan Lynch trilogy.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: All three of your characters are looking for a miracle. What do miracles, or the idea of miracles mean to them?
MAGGIE STIEFVATER: Miracles! Miracles! Miracles! This book is full of them. I was taught by nuns for the first dozen years of my life, and so I was raised with a pantheon of peculiar saints: decapitated saints who carried their own severed head through the streets of cities, saints who exorcised demons from the bottoms of milk pails, saints who flew unexpectedly.

The Soria family are saints as well, and the miracle they perform for pilgrims to Bicho Raro is as strange as most miracles are: They can make the darkness inside you visible. Once the pilgrims see their inner darkness face to face, it’s up to them to perform another miracle on themselves: banishing the darkness for good. It can be a tricky business to vanquish your inner demons, even once you know what they are, but the Sorias are forbidden to help with this part. They’ve all been told that if a Soria interferes with the second miracle, it will bring out their own darkness, and a saint’s darkness, so the story goes, is a most potent and dangerous thing.

The three cousins in the story all have their own relationship with the family miracles: Daniel, the current acting Saint of Bicho Raro, wants to help the pilgrims overcome their darkness through holiness and empathy. Beatriz, on the other hand, would prefer if the Sorias approached the miracle from a more logical and scientific place. And Joaquin is less interested in miracles and more interested in broadcasting rock & roll from a pirate radio station in the back of a battered box truck.

How did you come up with the name “Bicho Raro”?
I’d just finished writing the rather heavy final installment of the Raven Cycle, and I thought it would be nice to switch things up with something playful and - dare I say it? “Feel good”? Does that sound like a Stiefvater novel to you?

So I tried to be as playful in my language as I could. I figured if my words were frolicking, readers might too. “Bicho raro” (“rare bug”) is just a little way to speak fondly about odd people, like “strange bird” or “odd duck.” It’s less about the Soria family themselves and more about the varied pilgrims who come to Bicho Raro.

What inspired the novel’s setting?
Three years ago, I convinced Scholastic that instead of flying to all of my tour events for Sinner, the companion book to the Shiver trilogy, I would instead drive my 1973 Camaro to them. Seven thousand miles, coast to coast, just an American girl in a muscle car, seeing the breadbasket of our fine country while hawking a novel about burned-out werewolves - nothing could go wrong.

Spoiler: Everything went wrong. I spent my time evenly divided between meeting readers and repairing the Camaro by the side of the road.

At one point, the brakes went out (for the second time), and I coasted into an auto repair shop in Del Norte, Colorado. The sun was white, the air was dust, and the mountains were sharp as hell all around. While I waited for the mechanic to take a look at my brake lines, the receptionist told me tall tales and ghost stories about straight-arrow desert roads and demons dancing in the dust and strangers appearing in the night.

I thought to myself: This is where my next novel takes place.

What made you decide to set All the Crooked Saints in the 60s? Is there something in the history of Colorado at that time that speaks to you?
Music! Music! Music! When I was growing up in the 80s, my father always had the radio set to the Golden Oldies - I didn’t realize, in fact, that it wasn’t contemporary music. I thought Del Shannon and Patsy Cline and the Byrds were everyone’s current groove. Even after I discovered differently, it didn’t matter; that music had become the sound of my childhood. There’s something about 60s music and the 60s in general that I think pairs perfectly with a novel about the teen experience - 60s America was going through an adolescence in a lot of ways, and it was a time of mystical joy, innocence lost, increasingly uncomfortable self-awareness of the limitations of tradition, and colorful agitation for change, all of it emotional and urgent. If that’s not a description of being a teen, I don’t know what is.

I’ve been dying to write a novel steeped with the music of that time for about five years now, and for this one, it made sense. I had an incredibly grand and self-indulgent time listening to the music Joaquin and Beatriz spin in their covert broadcasts.

Your work has always been infused with aspects of magical realism. What would you say are some of your influences?
Magic! Magic! Magic! For this book in particular, Isabel Allende, Gabriel Garca Mrquez, Erick Setiawan, Ali Shaw, and maybe even John Irving - I have read a lot of wonderful magic realism and wry, intimate family stories over the last decade, and Saints is my affectionate nod to them. It was also informed by movies, though - I really wanted to capture the mood of films like Big Fish, Chocolat, and Amlie. That whimsy and magic and nostalgia. These are strange, hard times that we’re living in, and I wanted to write about magic - I always do - but I also felt like I wanted to leave readers with something that made them happy, hopeful, and excited about all the odd miracles that exist in the world and in themselves.

Of course, I have to ask one question about the upcoming Ronan trilogy. Is there anything you could tease about it?
Insert, Stiefvater said, an enigmatic smile here.

All the Crooked Saints will be available for purchase on Oct. 10.

This article was originally published on ew.com

aquiver | 03 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings: mature themes, talk of masturbation, smut, language, some type of fluff
words: 10,909
summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…
note. inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the character’s past occupation haha

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 |

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There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it’s actually there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. Their friend followed after.

One returned.

One did not.

The story did not begin there though. It began long, long ago, in the tales and songs of ancestors long gone; passed from mother to daughter and father to son. They did not fade through time, starting anew in each beating heart of the family line.

They reached a young girl with olive skin and hair like raven’s wings. Her dark eyes would shine as her grandmother wove the tales by the fireside.

She spoke to the girl of a woman with fiery hair and burning eyes, who spoke with flames and held infernos between her palms. Perhaps that sparked the love in her for all things she should not, and she strove to make the embers dance, like the one with fire in her hands.

Her grandmother knew in her old, wise bones that this child needed the tales more than most. Their family had always been aware, trusting their intuition had never led them wrong.

So when the girl came to Elsewhere, (For where else could she have gone?) Everyone steered clear (The school gave up on roommates before very long.)

Perhaps it was because of her reputation of playing with fire, or perhaps it was simply fate, but her chemistry professor paired her with a boy who loved to play with ice. They became unlikely friends, she with her burning salts and he with his liquid nitrogen.

“Call me Pyrra.” she said.

“Frozone.” He grinned, white teeth gleamed against his dark skin.

He told her of his girlfriend back in Louisiana who was pregnant with his child: “It’s too soon to know the gender yet.” And she would just smile.

She told him of her grandparents and their small, simple home that stood alone on the reservation and of the wild horses that would thunder by.

They knew what everyone would say, how unwise it was to share so much about themselves, but they were chemistry majors—those rarely got taken.

The two were closer then blood and they both forgot one very important fact— being Taken isn’t the only way to Vanish.

It had been an accident. Frozone hadn’t been paying attention. He had forgotten to count the doors, as he stumbled to his history class after a long night in the labs. No one probably would have known if a fellow student hadn’t seen him stepping through the door—too late to stop his fate.

Pyrra was the first one told, the RA’s decided to wait till the end of the term before notifying his family. They knew it was a futile hope, but anything beat having to make that call.

Pyrra wouldn’t accept this though. She gathered up her craft, and armed herself with salts to burn. She dressed herself in her tribe’s garments and war paint on her face—there is power in being claimed—and set off for the history building when the moonless night was at its darkest.

The door gave way before her and she crossed into when; not where, her friend had gone. She travelled far until she found where the Little People were gathered round. They vanished as she drew near, but she was unshaken by this or fear.

“I have come to bargain for my brother of heart.”

“What will you give?” They whispered in reply.

“A story like none other.” She called bravely into the night.

“There is no story to match his fate, for his return we will need something great.”

Pyrra paused before standing straight.

“Then I will take his place.”

“Is this your choice?”

She thought of her grandparents, sitting at home, they had only gotten electricity a few years ago.

She thought of Frozone’s sisters, all so young and alone thriving off their brother’s hope to give them a better home, on the income of the degree the scholarship would to them all. She thought about his girlfriend, who worked two jobs by day, and attended a community college to get her art degree by night. With that her mind was made.

“It is.”

Frozone stumbled in, lost and confused as if it had only been an hour instead of a day. He caught onto what had happened more than quick enough.

“Pyrra, you can’t do this! Please! It’s my mistake to pay.”

“Call my grandmother and ask for my name, give it to your daughter and your debt shall be paid.”

That was all the time they had, before he was gone and she had stayed. The Little Folk drew near her now; intent on Their new pet, but she held up her hand, she wasn’t Theirs quite yet.

“I have another bargain to make.”

“What now?” They grumbled, discontent and bored.

“My story for my freedom, I chose to stay, but not to be yours.”

“Fine.” they hissed “But the bargain is this: you must keep us entertained till dawn or to us you will belong.”

What choice was there left for her to make? The sky was at it darkest—the hour before dawn. But how that hour stretched on and on!

She dared not tell her family’s tales, or sing to Them their songs, so she told them what she had, her science close at hand.

She told them how a star was born and how precious gems became; all the while between her hands she wove the tales with flame.

When that never nearing dawn finally broke upon the sky, They praised her skills, and kept their deals; blessing her all the while.

Fire-tongue they called her; Flame-speaker, They would say. They kissed her eyes and painted her lips, dressing her in flame.

She smiled and simply said, “That is not my name.”

For she had a new name now, one that no one could ever Take, now that she had given her old name away.

Frozone made it back and tried to keep his word. He called her grandmother who patiently greeted him and told him Pyrra’s name, only requesting that in return he send her things and bring his daughter by some day. She waved him off when he explained that the baby was still too small to tell, whether it was female or male.

Years passed and soon it was time to graduate. Everyone assumed that Pyrra’s grandparents came for Frozone. No one expected Pyrra to appear and collect her diploma as if she had been there all along. Then again, no one mentioned how her eyes were embers now or how her hair had turned from raven black to crimson—so she very well may have been.

         A few decades later a new student comes—a chemistry major that loves to play with fire. She wears a white smile; which is near blinding against her dark skin. She claims she came to prove that her father paid his debt. She won’t say anymore than that. But sometimes she would leave the dorm shortly before dawn on moonless nights with a string of fireworks in her hands. She would always return the next morning, humming ancient songs as she wrote an email to her father.

         During her time a new tale whispers its way into campus lore.

It’s breathed into the ears of distraught students—those with the courage to try and reclaim the Taken Ones are the only ones to hear the advice.

“Come to the edge of the woods on a moonless night, just before dawn and set off fireworks of every color—then wait.”

The ones who listen return with tales about a woman in smoldering garments, blazing red hair, and glowing embers for eyes who would test their resolve. To those who passed she would gift them with words or song, depending on their need, she might even gift them with her fire.

Regardless of what you get, it is always enough to get them back.

Except no one can remember what it was she gave them. They could never remember the tale itself, just that she gave them one; the songs she granted would dance just beyond memory’s grasp; the image of a mesmerizing flame leaving a ghostly impression inside their eyelids. There was only one thing anyone remembers her saying.

“My name is Story—”

There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it is there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. His friend followed after.

He returned.

She did not.

“—and I create myself.”

A/N: I know the Gentry come off a little strange in this. It’s mostly because Pyrra is Navajo and thus the stories she knows are of the Little People; but at Elsewhere, the Gentry are for the most part from Great Britain, Ireland and thereabouts. I tried to blend these two cultures. I’m not gunna lie, I didn’t do great. I haven’t done much with Navajo mythology in a long while. I feel it came off pretty shoddy in this. I’m not trying to offend (I’m part native American myself). Also, I love Chemistry but I suck at it which is why I didn’t go as into depth as I would have liked. (My grammar sucks too, so apologies there as well.)

[x]

Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 


When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)

———————————-

Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.

————————————————

It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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Paper Stars

Summary: Dan starts to get love notes in his locker in the form of origami stars, so he gets the help of his best friend, Phil, to figure out who it is.
Word Count: 2,398
Warnings: cussing
A/N: Thanks to @insanityplaysfics as always for giving me ideas. I’m a fucking sap recently because my boyfriend proposed to me and I just wanna write a crapton of fluff and puke rainbows everywhere. This is short and sweet, which is very rare for me! I hope you like it anyways!
Read it on AO3

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The day Dan opened his locker to a strange slip of paper folded into an origami star was one of the strangest moments of his life.

“What,” Dan said simply, giving the offending paper a strange look. He bent down and retrieved it, staring at it long and hard. It was thin, made with a flowery paper, and he could just make out words written in very small print on it. “What,” Dan said again.

With a small amount of struggle, Dan managed to unwrap the star, revealing the writing inside. The script was sloppy to the point where Dan thinks it was written with the wrong hand. Dan said “what” again and the word didn’t even sound like it was real anymore. It took him a few minutes to read what it said due to the scribble, but he eventually managed.

‘i used to stare out the window because i thought the scenery was beautiful. Then i saw you and suddenly the world didnt seem nearly as captivating as before.

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Monkey

Once upon a time, my dear friend Palak @stylishmuser had a dream. She told me that dream and then, within the same day, this video happened. I’m here to put that dream into words. Please enjoy.

Also, @stylesunchained…I dared. I’m sorry.

————————————————————————————————

Harry was waiting patiently for someone on the other end of the phone to answer his call. He had called exactly when he always did; 6:30 on the dot in London, which was half an hour before his daughter went to bed. The nightly ritual had been the same for the past two weeks; he would call before bedtime, talk to his little girl as soon as she had her pajamas on, say goodnight before you tucked her in, and then call back after she was asleep and talk to you until his eyes started to droop. It wasn’t ideal - he would have much rather been home with the two of you - but it was better than nothing.

The familiar and sweet sound of your voice finally echoed in his ears and he saw your face pop up on the tiny screen.

“Hey you,” you smiled, “How are you?”

“Tired,” he replied, rubbing at his eyes a bit to keep them focused, “Lots of meetings and interviews today. Is she still up?”

“Of course. I’ve just had her run and brush her teeth; she should be out soon, she knows what time it is.”

Another few minutes went by as you and Harry talked about what had been going on, but you knew Harry was getting antsy to talk to someone else. As much as he loved conversations with you, he only had a limited time with his daughter before she fell asleep.

“(Y/D/N)!” you called, turning your head, “Daddy’s on the phone and he’s waiting for you!”

It was only a few seconds before the thumping of tiny feet could be heard running down the hallway. A moment later, Harry saw the wild hair of his three-year-old appear in frame and he chuckled.

“Hi, monkey,” he said, waving.

“Hi daddy!”

“I miss you. How are you?”

“I’m good. I went to Nana’s today and Auntie Gem was there!”

Harry grinned. “Was she? That sounds like fun. Did she let you play salon with her hair again?”

His daughter nodded, excitedly. That was one thing Harry was so thankful for; a sister who didn’t care if her niece wanted to poke, prod, braid or twist her hair within an inch of its life. Gemma was always game for a little ‘toddler spa day’.

“Daddy, guess how many more days!!”

“Hmm,” Harry thought, “I don’t know. Tell me.”

She held up both hands, folding two fingers down.

“Only this many! An’ then you’ll be home, daddy!”

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Wait, what?

(based on this) (look, there’s a part two)


Yuuri barely has time to grab his jacket when he runs out the door, much less brush his hair or find a hat. Unfortunately, he’s sure that that means that his hair is an absolute mess. It’s been getting long again, but in between classes and helping Yura out with his routine on the weekends, he hasn’t had much time for things like haircuts. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to mind it, and Yura likes to experiment hairstyles on Yuuri “so that if it looks stupid, I don’t have to see it on myself.”

It’s not that big a deal, except on days like this, when he sleeps in (thanks a lot Vitya) and doesn’t have the time to really get it under control. He usually meets up with his friends before class, and he doesn’t doubt that they’ll notice, and probably tease him about it.

They notice.

“Yuuri!” Estephania gasps, sounding too scandalized for her words to be anything but teasing. “What on earth happened to your hair?”

Yuuri flushes. “I was running late,” he mumbles.

Richard snorts. “You sure? Because that looks more like sex hair to me, man.”

“Ooh, he’s right,” Estephania coos before Yuuri can protest.

He wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment (especially since they’re not entirely wrong). “No, really I–”

“We know, sweetie.” She reaches up and moves his hair around a bit, trying to make it look presentable. “You’re just too easy to tease.”

“You sure you’re really twenty seven?” Richard raises an eyebrow.

Yuuri just smiles at the ground in fond humiliation (apparently it’s not a common emotion, but it’s a little hard not to be used to the feeling when he’s married to the world’s biggest drama queen) and nods. “I am.”

His friends are too much sometimes, he admits. Richard is the embodiment of America in a lot of ways: loud, completely lacking a sense of social norms, a walking personification of testosterone. Estephania is less… everything… than Richard, but she’s very touchy and affectionate in an entirely platonic way that reminds Yuuri a lot of Christophe, only without all of the innuendo. But they’re both loyal down to their very core, and they’re not bad people.

His phone starts ringing, Stammi Vicino playing loudly. Yuuri picks up, keeping his phone away from Estephania’s hands. “Да, Vitya?”

“Dude! You speak Russian too?” Richard looks like Yuuri just smacked him in the face. The school year just started, so they’re all still learning about each other.

Yuuri just smiles, since Victor is in the middle of one of his usual mid-morning crises. “Vitya, calm down,” he says in Russian. “Makkachin is probably out with Yura. You know he takes her for walks sometimes. Have you seen him today?”

He manages to get Victor off the phone just before class starts, flipping his phone to airplane mode since he’s sure that this isn’t the last he’ll be hearing from his lovable trainwreck of a husband.



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anonymous asked:

What about aliens that have limited telepathy when holding physical contact and they touch a human with intrusive thoughts and a Millennial way of dealing with it? So they heard "what if The ship just crashed into that sun?" "Glathor is having a kid soon I'm not going to do that Sharon." and instantly tries to send the human to medial "you are under mind control that wishes to kill the whole ship please let us help! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOUR BRAIN JUST DOES THAT!?"

As far as humans went, Casey was for all intents and purposes normal. They were better with numbers and physics than most – humans and Frilaks alike – but still well within the range of normality. They were a kind person; compassionate in the same way most humans xe had met were. All in all, there was nothing that would have warned Garnork about the entities controlling them.

Out of respect for privacy, Frilaks tended to avoid physically touching other species, but most humans didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, a lot of them sought out physical contact in the form of ‘hugs’ or ‘high fives’ or other strange concepts. Casey had never been opposed to physical contact, so when xe saw them again after a period of absence, xe engaged in the customary ‘hug’.

Xe had expected to pick up the normal ‘this is surprisingly nice,’ or ‘naw xe likes me,’ or even a ‘wonder what’s for dinner’ as the two of them hugged, though xe ended up picking up something far more important.

‘What if the ship just crashed into that sun?’

‘Galathor is having a kid soon, I’m not going to do that Sharon.’

Instantly, Garnork pulled away from the hug, but made sure they were still touching. “Casey, you need to go to the medical bay.” Xe said, xir colours betraying xir worry. Casey knew enough Frilaks to know how to interpret xir hide turning a light teal colour. At least that was what their thoughts told xem. There were a lot of socially inappropriate words too, though in xir experience, these ‘swears’ weren’t considered as inappropriate as some humans liked to pretend.

It took a bit too long before Garnork remembered that Casey didn’t have the abilities of a Frilak, and therefore had no idea what was going on.

“You are under mind control that wishes to kill the whole ship please let us help! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOUR BRAIN JUST DOES THAT!?” xe asked, sounding and looking more than just a bit frantic. This wasn’t good, this really, really was not good.

Maybe they didn’t know quite what was going on. Humans did have very little experience with actual mind control. However, before xe could press on, Casey stepped out of xir reach and ran a hand through their hair.

“Okay, so this is going to be a bit difficult to explain, but I’ll do my best. So what I’m guessing you heard or saw or however it is you do your mindreading thingy,” they began, holding up a hand when Garnork attempted to say something. “Let me finish, please. They’re called intrusive thoughts. Annoying? Yeah. Dangerous? Not really. Normal? Yes. Completely. Pretty much every single human gets them from time to time. It can be like it was just now, or suddenly thinking about swerving into a different lane on the motorway, or stabbing a friend,” they said, clearly realising they had to change their tactic as xe turned a deep magenta colour of fright.

“But we don’t act on them! They’re intrusive, so you can’t really stop them, but you can deal with them when you get them.”

“But you called them Sharon. Is that not a name your species use on some individuals?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m a millennial. Fatalistic humour and unconventional coping mechanisms are sort of my thing,” they shrugged, but continued their elaboration when they realised Garnork didn’t understand. “It’s easier to not do it when it sounds stupid, and it’s really annoying. So I just pretend it’s being said by some posh soccer mum.”

It took a while before xe remembered another human crewmember’s explanation of the phenomenon and expression of ‘soccer mums’ and that they weren’t the creators of a sport as the title suggested.

“And this helps you not crash the ship into a sun?” xe asked, getting a nod and a smile in return.

“Yup. But like I said, it’s nothing to worry about. Oh, but I see Galathor, I’ve got to ask xem how xe’s doing. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

And with that, Casey left xem, more confused than usual, though it really wasn’t unusual that humans confused anyone.

Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀

JUNGKOOK - COLLEGE AU, TATTOOIST AU. 

The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 

PART TWO

Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

Keep reading

the blue notebooks

time travel au

pairing: jimin | reader
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 8.575
warnings: none
author’s note: this story will have a sequel since there is much, much more I want to tell, but I wanted to keep it under 10k and I figured this part worked well as a standalone. please enjoy :)


You meet Park Jimin after a particularly rough landing.

You wish time traveling was as easy as the books like to describe, or as beautifully romantic as the movies depict. It is a concept that’s been overly embroidered with advantages that do not exist — and even if normal humans see it as a fortuitous skill, one they long to have, they rarely realize that having a normal life is out of the question for your kind. Even so, there is no point in wishing for something that won’t happen in this lifetime, not with the time traveling genes burning strong within your veins.

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Serious Squareness: an exclusive interview with Lorenzo Semple, Jr. on the creation of TV’s Batman

Holy unexpected delights! I opened my Tumblr inbox the other day to find a message from @jondambacher, and, well, let me just turn it over to him:

Screenwriter Lorenzo Semple, Jr. celebrates a birthday today (March 23rd). The following is an excerpt from a number of long interviews I was blessed, honored & ecstatic to conduct in 2008, for Lorenzo’s biography I was writing.

To the King of Serious Squareness, I celebrate you, I thank you, I wish you a Happy Happy Birthday.

Jon Dambacher: I have a quote from Dozier referring to you as “the most bizarre thinker I knew.”

Lorenzo Semple: Good.

JD: Have you ever read that?

LS: I think I have, now that you mention it.

JD: What do you think he means here?

LS: I don’t know what he means. He obviously meant it as a compliment but it’s… I don’t know what he meant. I just could think of off-the-wall things. When he showed me, as I’ve told you, when I was living in Spain writing plays with a family, he sent me a cable to come up and meet him at The Ritz in Madrid there in the garden of The Ritz, he had a very strange face, as he pulled out of his pocket a “Batman” comic book. Said, “Would you believe it, this is what ABC has given us to do, because they’d owed us one, can you believe it? He was… Was so disdainful of it. I, uh, in all honesty, I took one look at it and thought of it and said, "I know exactly what to do.” I’ll go home and I’ll write it.“ That was the only discussion about "Batman.” The only discussion. As I say I wrote it, Bill loved it, he gave it to ABC, they thought it was excellent, but they were dumbfounded by it because there was nothing like it. All those things like, “Pop!” and “Bam!” were all written into the script.

JD: That’s awesome! Did you guys just share some crazy sense of humor together–is that how you were able to create this amazing…

LS: Yeah! It’s not really that crazy once you get the note of it, you know what I mean?

JD: Okay.

LS: It’s all out of that same… That dead serious nonsense, you know what I mean? Adam was actually perfect for it and Burt in his way, too. You know, they’d be chasing somebody and Robin would say, “Park here, they just went into that building…”

JD: And there’s “No Parking” signs…

LS: “No Parking” sign, right! That kind of thing. All these come out of the same level of dead serious, squareness, if you want to call it that. Dead seriously square. That was… Which isn’t that bizarre compared to modern movies, you know, like Charlie Kaufman and things.

JD: Right.

LS: It wasn’t too bizarre. Bill probably thought it was bizarre but we’ve both recognized he was a sophisticated guy. He recognized it as being funny. He didn’t mind me thinking up all these things like Bat-Shark-Repellent or whatever it was when the shark had him by the leg…

JD: Right, the Shark-Repellent-Bat Spray.

LS: I guess you could call that bizarre thinking. To me it’s all a part of one type of thinking; do you know what I mean? Bizarre isn’t quite the word, I’d say imaginative.

JD: Okay. We were talking about favorite lines from that film specifically, one that’s stuck with me over the years–I’ve always wanted to meet the man who wrote the line, “Ah, a thought strikes me–so dreadful I scarcely dare give it utterance!”

(Lorenzo breaks out laughing.)

LS: That’s very funny, I agree! I agree! That’s the kind of thing we’ve been–you know, that pompous squareness actually. Very good hearted. Adam was a very sweet guy. A very nice guy himself and Batman, you know, nobody was killed in it and there’s nothing–except the name–in common with the Batman franchise, the Warner Brothers ones. The people who say, “What do you feel about those movies” always expect me to say something, I say, “Actually I don’t like violent movies particularly and I stay away from them.” The Batman I wrote has nothing to do with these movies–really has nothing to do with each other… My Batman is more in the spirit of the comic and the very fact that millionaire Bruce Wayne, that’s all you have to say… The fact that you refer to him as Millionaire Bruce Wayne, I mean…

JD: The Millionaire Philanthropist.

LS: The Millionaire–thank you! The Millionaire Philanthropist. I had forgotten that. Just the fact that you’d refer to anybody like that–if you’re sophisticated it shows immediately–it’s ironic at best.

JD: That squareness.

LS: You’re right. That’s what I mean. The squareness, exactly.

Jikook fic recs masterpost

Hi everyone! So, as any jikook shipper, you all know that there is a variety of great fics, old and new, about our fave ship. I, personally, tend to like reading more about the new ones (not because the 2014 ones aren’t good anymore, but like, u know what i mean, dynamics of the ship changed).

So as someone who spends……. alot….. of their free time reading and writing fics, and as someone who’s been in the fandom for a couple months now, i tought it would be a good idea to write down here some of my faves for you, old shipper who thinks they’ve read them all, or new shipper who doesn’t know where to start :) 

I’ll try to recommend complete ones for the most part, and recent ones, but you know…… some of ‘em are classics. Here are my personnal all-time favorites.

Let’s start ! (in no particular order)

* - awesome

** - extra-awesome

*** - life-changing

1. Constraint, by Harlot. ** One shot, 40k, complete. “Jungkook is young and he is more acquainted with confusion and poor-decision-making than he’d like to admit. Despite being only 19 years old, he sometimes argues that he’s been through and seen some shit. He is never sure where he’s going to end up and he’s not entirely sure what kind of future is waiting for him. He is often not sure of a lot but he is certain—absolutely certain—that he’s not gay.
Alternatively, a story in which Jungkook meets Park Jimin and doesn’t like him whatsoever. There’s just something about him… there’s just so much about him. Jungkook really can’t stand him. In fact, he can’t stand him so much he can’t quite seem to get him off of his mind.
” ((So this one is quite lengthy, i know, but totally worth it ! Jungkook is a real douche in the beginning, but his reactions are so believable and relatable that you forgive him instantly. Great caracterization. Smutty parts in the end.))

2. Loverboy, by gangbang. *** One shot, 9k, complete. “this much jimin’s figured out: sometimes, somehow, his words make people fall in love with him.” ((Okay so this one is my personnal favorite, if I had to chose from all the jikooks fics, and probably all fics of all ships of all times, this would probably win the 1rst place. There’s something about it. Magical realism. Ansgt. Incredible storyline and characterization. A+++))

3. More golden than a golden snitch, by arborescent. ** Series of 3 One shots. 4k for this one, complete. “Everyone knows that the first year Slytherin seeker Jeon Jungkook’s biggest fan is not from his own house but a third year Hufflepuff named Park Jimin.” ((Okay so another old one… but a true classic. This one is a series so be sure to read the 3 of them, aren’t long, but truly amazing. HP au, with a lot of misunderstandings, a tsundere jk, and a fluffy muggleborn jimin. Don’t have to have loved HP to read this.))

4. And back again, by novilunar. * One shot, 3k, complete. “Jimin wishes he could stay away from Jungkook.” ((Ok so this is also an old one BUT i had to link it cause i read it 4 times by now and it is  THE fic that started me into Jikook. Basically, Jimin doesn’t do one night stands, and thats all jk does. Jimin falls. Happy ending. Great writing. Good smutty parts. Love it.))

5. The Bet, by jonghyunslisterine. ** 11 chapters, 46k, complete. “Where Jeon Jungkook makes a bet that he can get the notoriously single Park Jimin to sleep with him by the end of the semester. Needless to say, things don’t go exactly as planned.” ((Okay, another old one, classic, that you probably already read. If not, then  d o   i t. Quite lengthy, but a safe bet. Great great great character development. Jimin is such a complex but lovely being and jk is such a douche but then gets it and it all goes well in the end. The jeonlous is gold. University setting, and jk’s concerns about school are so well written and so relatable. Great one overall.))

6. Flowertalk, by soranosuzu. * One shot, 3k, complete. “Jimin works in a flower shop and Jungkook is a delivery boy who drives a pastel pink van.” ((Tooth rotting fluff. Short and sweet, perfect for when you’re feeling for it.))

7. You’re ripped at every edge (but you’re a masterpiece), bykafeuka. * 3 chapters, 34k, complete.  “Jimin swore there was nothing worst than having Jeon Jungkook as a sergeant.(Or,In which Jimin was forced to enlist in military and he was under the sexgod Sergeant Jeon’s monitoring division and god, Sergeant Jeon really needs to stop being a douchebag)” ((Ok so this one is maybe not an ultimate fave, but it’s only b/c of the end. Overall, it’s great, tho’. Military AU. Sexual tension. JK is sexually frustrated and frustrating. JM is a rich boy. Both characters are douches. Loved the idea.))

8. One upon a time share, by namakemono. * 5 chapters, 32k, complete. “Jungkook is in desperate need of a vacation, but spending two weeks in Namjoon and Hoseok’s timeshare in Okinawa with his recently separated ex of three years was probably (definitely) not what he had in mind.” ((I don’t know why i like the ex trope so much??? anyone with me??? there isn’t enough of those. JK and JM broke up, but their friends are still friends. And want them back together. Oops. Love it.))

7. White T-shirt and Brown Timberlands, by Rose_gold715. ** One shot, 11k, complete. “Jimin is filing for divorce after eight years with Jungkook. He needs to let go, and yet, he wants to hold on a little longer.” ((Aaaaand another ex trope, but not really. Established relationship that doesn’t go well for a while, but happy ending. Original idea. Kinda angsty, and heartbreaking. Loved it.))

8. You’re a hard soul to save with an ocean in the way (but i’ll get around it), by namakemono (great author ok bye). ** One shot, 20k, complete. “Jimin has the whole ocean at his fingertips, but for some reason he can’t help but look up to where the humans are, and wonder what it’s like to be part of their world.(or: the Little Mermaid AU that no one asked for)” ((Ok so now move on to something a lil’ fluffier. I DID NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I WANTED A LITTLE MERMAID AU. But i did. Jimin w/ red hair. Rich boy JK that has to take care of him. Funny and cute. A little jowel of a fic.))

9. You Don’t Bring Me Flour, by superbroc. * One shot, 3k, complete. “In order to graduate, Park Jimin must convince cute grocery cashier Jeon Jungkook that this sack of flour is his beloved child.” ((Soooo funny. Happy and fluffy. Great when you’re in the mood for something lighter.))

10. Let’s play for keeps, bykaythebest. * One shot, 4k, complete. “Jimin plays games for the entertainment of the Internet. Poorly. In fact, his entire schtick seems to be entirely based on how terrible he is. JimJams tries. He rarely succeeds.” ((Youtuber AU. Funny. A lot of Pining. What’s there more to ask.))

11. A touch of sin, by pettey. *** 10 chapters, 102k, complete. “After his transfer to a quiet seaside town, Jeongguk was prepared to face a year of uneventful CID work, but found himself dealing with a series of strange murders instead.” ((ULTIMATE FAVE OF THE MOMENT. Last fic I actually read, yesterday, in the middle of the night. Terrible idea, ‘cause it’s so spooky. I’m not a fan of gore, so i was scared when i read the hashtags, but really there isn’t that much, and it’s so well written that you barely notice it. The story is so well written and plot-driven. It could litteraly be a book. The universe is so intriguing. Ghosts. Witchcraft. JK is a cop, JM is a witch, sorta. Weird murders happen, JM is suspected. Sexual tension. So soooo much sexual tension. Characters are amazingly written. Slowbuilt. The end is bittersweet, if you don’t like much of happy endings, you’ll love it, if you only like happy endings (like me), you’ll love it too. Also there’s smut. And amazing song recommandations.))

12. Nu ABO: A Memoir by Park Jimin, by decompositionbooks. ** 6 chapters, 34k, complete. “The world didn’t think it was necessary to give him a guide when it shoved all of these omega hormones at him, so here it is, Park Jimin’s handbook on dealing with heats, unrequited love, and Jeon Jungkook.” ((You kids are so lucky to be able to read this fic in one go. I had to wait for every chapter. E v e r y   o n e. I know not all are fans of ABO dynamics, but try this one, please. It’s so good. Jimin is hilarious. Jungkook is emotionally constipated. Sexual tension. Jealousy. Great writing. A+))

13. Leave Your Mark, by snarcsics. *** 3/10 chapters, 49k, not completed. “The first time Jimin meets a gaunt, small beta boy named Jungkook in the examination room of Namjoon’s lab, he can’t seem to take his eyes off him. The second time he sees Jungkook it’s because he refuses to eat without him. The third time they meet, Jungkook is more teeth and claws than Jimin can handle.” ((OK SO I KNOW THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETED. BUT LISTEN it’s worth it. Ohhh so worth it. Plus the author tends to finish all of her fics. Superd kind, replies to all comments. This fic is the beginning of a masterpiece. Not like any ABO. The plot is so great. The characterization is A+++. So much tension. So intriguing. JM is an omega. JK is a beta that will become an alpha artificially cause they are extinct. It doesn’t go so well. Please read it. Trust me on this one. You won’t regret it.))


So this is all of my ultimate favorite fics! I still have plenty I would like to recommend, but I figured too long posts annoy everyone. Tell me if you liked this list and if you would like me to do some others :) I was thinking about doing thematics ones, like fluffy, smutty, angsty… Tell me if that would be something you’d like! 

If you have any fics to recommend me, please please please do so!

This fandom is great. This ship is great. Don’t forget to comment on the stories you read to encourage these fabulous authors!

Thank you for reading!

When They Try to Take Us Down

Summary: Phil doesn’t like when hate preachers come to campus. They make him nervous and uncomfortable. But this time, Dan is there to help him through it in an unexpected, yet pleasant way.
Word Count: 2,201
Warnings: homophobic slurs, hate speech, anxiety
Title creds: Let the Flames Begin - Paramore
A/N: Thank you to @snowbunnylester (as always) for prompting me this! I’ve been on a writing splurge lately and I honestly don’t know how I’m doing it. Lemme know it you like this!

Read it on AO3

-

There is an angry aura surrounding campus in the form of ignorant slurs and angry responses. This only happens on the occasion, but it makes Phil nervous each time, a pit in his stomach and his throat closing up as he tries to walk as fast as possible past the angry crowd.

There was a man, dressed in preacher’s clothes and holding a sign with a list of the types of people who were going to “go to hell”. Phil didn’t have to look to know that homosexuals and masturbators and adulterers were on the list. He swallowed and ducked his head, trying to move as fast as he could. Dan was ahead of him, probably shaking his head and scoffing as he does every time they passed by a preacher like this. Sometimes Phil thinks he’s more upset about this kind of thing than Phil is, despite being the heterosexual one in their friendship, just by the way he wasn’t afraid to shout his opinions right back.

Keep reading

Step it Up

Requests: “You are one of the only blogs that write quality Barry Allen smut, so thank you. Can you please write a Barry smut where he always is gentle with the reader because he doesn’t want to lose control with his powers. One night she confronts him and a night of vibrating hands and speedy enhancements occur? Thank you 💕” Credits to gif owners!

It was the same thing every time. Slow thrust, kiss, whisper your love for each other and then hand holding. You loved every second of that. Barry told you every single hour that he loved you. And all he did was make love to you, nice and slow, where you could be close to each other and rest your foreheads together. You loved Barry with all your heart but slow just didn’t cut it for you anymore.

The first time you confronted Barry about it, he reasoned with you, sped up a little bit and you made a really strange noise (indicating you loved it) and he figured he hurt you by accident because he was too fast. If Barry even thought about thoroughly fucking you, he would start to vibrate. But he’d never touch you when he did, his excitement about his fantasy would scare him into thinking he would lose control.

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hockeystix  asked:

zimbits. “Less homicidal thoughts about your annoying coworker right now, please. I’m in a meeting over here.” pLEASE

Charlie asked for this about 30 years ago but I’m just getting around to it now. It’s prompt from this list. 


If he thinks I’m going to let a single tart anywhere near his ruinous Trump-sized hands he’s got another thing coming. Actually, no. He can have as many tarts as he wants. Kill ‘em with kindness, and arsenic worked into the whipped cream. I’d have to add more vanilla to balance it out but–

If Jack wasn’t in a sponsorship meeting, he would be inclined to promptly bash his head into the wood of the table. It had been like this for a few weeks ago, a voice filtering in at the most inopportune times, going on diatribes against who he was presuming was the voice’s coworker (”–even the way he counts out change is annoying. The Lord is testing me. We should’ve kept the antique register, it would have hurt more when I ‘accidentally’ shut the drawer on his fingers that he just licked to count out the bills. Yes, I would LOVE my spit covered change. THANK YOU.”)

Unfortunately, Jack thought it was unlikely that NIKE would appreciate their new brand ambassador actively giving himself a concussion, so he shot the representative across the table a smile and nodded to whatever was being said before reverting back inside his head.

As ambitious as your assassination attempt is, if you could keep it to yourself I would appreciate it.

There wasn’t even a moments pause before he got his reply.

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