fic ish thing


THE 100 HP AU: Bits and bobs.


The Blakes are both nerds, Lincoln is too pure, Monty has to deal with Octavia & Lincoln’s awkwardness, Raven goes to the infirmary a little too often, Clarke & Lexa are gross in every universes, and the Gryffindor’s 7th year class might be the worst that Hogwarts has ever seen.

Other students existing in this AU: Maya, Murphy, Emori. Edit: cute tiny second year Aden.

>> More of this AU <<

(IMPORTANT: I can’t please everyone with the sorting of their houses, this isn’t open for debate anymore. Sorry if you don’t like it. ♥)

A little something something in honour of Jared-in-tight-Tshirts day

“Jesus, Sammy,” says Dean, “did that shrink in the wash?” It wouldn’t be the first time. Laundromats are always a slightly unstable quantity. Dean’s lost all kinds of beloved clothing over the years. (The Stanford T-shirt Sam mailed him during his first semester at college. A vintage Iron Maiden tour T-shirt he’d picked up for cents at a Goodwill in Philly. Shreds of pink satin, six months after Rhonda Hurley, pulled and pocketed surreptitious from a malfunctioning machine outside Cleveland.) 

Sam looks down at his chest, at the logo straining tight across the taut-pulled fabric. “No-oo?” he says. Dean raises an eyebrow. 

Two patches of pink blossom rosy over Sam’s cheekbones. “I went shopping,” he says, “the other weekend. In Kansas City. When I went to see that film.” 

“Yeah,” says Dean, carefully neutral. 

“Well,” says Sam. “The sales assistant. Uh. I did think it was a little tight but.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. The movement tugs the T-shirt even tighter, emphasising the curved lines of Sam’s pecs, the rounded swell of his bicep. “Threw it in half-price,” he mumbles. “Said it would be a shame.” 

Dean’s amused, mostly. Sammy’s taste in clothes is… idiosyncratic. He can’t imagine his brother in the kind of boutique that might sell him something like this. He tries to picture her, the salesgirl, heart-eyed over this big scruffy scarecrow. She was probably tiny, tiny and glamorous and young. 

“Lady-killer,” he says. 

Sam turns pinker, looks up to meet Dean’s eye. Aw, Sammy, Dean wants to say. He doesn’t quite understand how Sam can still be so clueless around women, so surprised every time he gets hit on. And it doesn’t sound like this chick was trying too hard to be subtle. Half-price. 

Then, “Who says it was a lady?” Sam says, and Dean’s world tilts a little bit sideways. The tiny blonde saleswoman in his head dissolves, resolving into a hard-bodied, chisel-chinned dude, a guy looking Sam up and down as he twists in the mirror. This isn’t. Dean doesn’t.

He blinks at his brother, open-mouthed, but Sam’s already shrugging, looking away. “Yeah, I don’t know. You’re right, it’s… I’ll go take it off.”

“Hey, no,” Dean says without thinking, his own cheeks heated now, tingling-flush with an indefinable anxiety. “Leave it, Sam. It looks good.” 

Sam wrinkles his nose. 

“Really,” Dean says. His eyes skitter again over Sam’s chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the veins that twist down his arms. “You look good,” he says.


So I got to a certain chapter in Blue Sky….

i just want lil klance things

like it isn’t too much to ask right i just want subtle sweet fluffy things along with their loud angry banter like

-touching shoulders while talking strategy

-lil smiles in the video coms

-smol glances during training to make sure the other is doing ok

-forehead touching right before a mission

-forehead touching in general

-lance walking into keith’s room without saying anything and keith letting him

-keith waking up a sleepy lance

-lance sitting in the training room just watching keith or reading a book

-keith being motivated and relieved by his presence

-finishing each other’s sentences

-stargazing in the control room

-naming the unknown planets using allura’s hologram of space

-chatting about the garrison

-small shoulder shoves when lance cracks a joke

-when one of them leaves a conversation the other follows

-going to an unknown planet and exploring together

-both being reassured that their weapons have synergy

i just want lil klance things

It’s MY shitty drabble

Remember that shitty drabble I was working on????? 


Based it’s a psuedo-adopting-the-runaway au. No title because titles are for squares. AAAAAAAND here is the thing:

Soul’s bare toes wiggled in the green grass, quietly shifting with each little twitch. He tried to stifle his giggling, the tickling sensation threatened to overwhelm him, but he stayed quiet. Soul just managed to escape the nanny, who was busy being moved to tears by Wes’s practice.

Soul scowled to himself. He wouldn’t let thoughts of his big brother ruin the moment. He was six years old, after all, and a big kid. Big kids got to make their own choices, including taking off their shoes and socks outside.

Keep reading

It’s two in the morning, and there go my inhibitions!!!  NSFW-ish under the cut lol.

Keep reading

Because I feel like this is a super important point to make:

Erin Gilbert is a romantic at heart. Whether she comes by that naturally or it’s partly in response to the trauma she went through as a kid – whatever the reasons, when it comes to love and relationships, she is a romantic. She entirely buys into the hearts and flowers and holding doors open kind of romance Hollywood and heterosexual society tries to sell you. She believes it, she wants it, that’s the daydream that’s always been in her head.

Because of this, (and because she’s the most clueless bisexual to exist since, well, me) she didn’t recognize Abby’s feelings for her nor did she recognize her own feelings for Abby back when they were in school together. Abby isn’t a naturally gushy person. She’s never going to be the type to get you cutesy but otherwise nonfunctional presents like candy and flowers and stuffed animals to demonstrate her affection. She’s never going to wax on about how much she loves you or all the reasons she loves you. Instead, she’s going to simply hang out with you all the time; joke with you, laugh with you; plan things with you; get you the things that you need; support you; fight beside you when things get rough. She is all of the friendship foundation necessary to build a long-term romance on, but that’s not what Erin’s been trained to look for so she missed it the first time around. She learns to recognize it after they’re reunited, after they form the Ghostbusters and save the city. She’ll work out just what their feelings are for each other (and have always been for each other), and they’ll start dating, and Erin will take away the message that she’d been looking for the wrong thing all this time.

eeehhhhhhhh… that message is not entirely accurate, though.

Yes, her relationship with Abby is everything she never knew she wanted, but most definitely did. Abby is everything she never knew she wanted but most definitely did. But it doesn’t mean the romance and hearts and flowers she daydreamed about was ever wrong or impossible or something she should have never dreamed about.

Because Patty.

Patty Tolan is what every fictional romantic love interest tries so hard to be. Patty is smart, she’s funny (both snarky funny and funny funny), she’s incredibly sweet and well mannered. Like, you need someone you can take home to your parents? This is the person for you. (Not that you can’t take Abby home to meet your parents, because you totally can. I’m just saying Patty can charm the pants off even the toughest critic. And likely has.)

Patty is fun, she likes to go out to places, she dances!!! Okay. Like we’re approaching Disney prince level of shit here (if Disney princes were prone to impromptu dance parties in their living rooms, which lbr they totally should be). Patty is perfect, and she is the type of person to get you small romantic presents for Valentine’s Day or anniversaries or just because she was thinking of you or because you have a really big meeting at work coming up and she knew you’ve been nervous about it. She is everything the most romantic of hearts could possibly ever dream up.

(and on a completely shallow note, Patty is also both tall and gorgeous, like. do you get what I’m saying yet???)

The best part is Patty is real. She’s not fictional or a daydream; she’s real and present and around Erin every single day now.

There is literally not a single possibility that Erin’s not going to notice all of this or not fall head over heels in love with Patty. Literally zero percent chance of that not happening. Where Holtz is entranced and very consciously fascinated by all things Patty, Erin is almost subconsciously pulled into Patty’s orbit. She just kind of drifts towards Patty because Patty is very normal (which Erin craves), she’s openly affectionate (which Erin thrives on), and then, they turn out to have a lot of things in common (similar taste in music and books and similar desire to not risk blowing themselves up everytime they blow their nose in the lab). So Erin starts actively choosing to hang out with Patty more and then they’re making plans to go shopping or to visit museums or to try one of those wine and painting things (i can’t even think of the proper name for those now, sorry) and pretty soon they’re just straight up dating.

(Because if Abby and Holtz can still date each other while they’re each dating someone else, then surely Patty and Erin can also date each other.) (which they can, everyone’s cool with it)

And so that’s how Erin ends up with two amazing girlfriends and a wonderful OT4 family unit.

The end :)

Random Fic Rec (kinda)

I’ve recently read some great fics, but haven’t had time to review them. Rather than sit on them until I can write out my thoughts, here’s an expanded Random Fic Rec with mini reviews!

Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy:

Inconceivable by alivingfire

This fic is rom com fun and a great high school misadventures fic. I loved the idea of Louis and Barbara as twins - it was really inventive.

Something Great by infinetlymint 

If you’re looking for a fic in the famous/not famous trope with lots of fluff, here you go. It was a cute read!

Make a Run, Cause Some Rebellion by whoknows

This is the first hybrid fic I’ve read, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. I loved how rambunctious and mischevious Louis was until Harry stepped in. Whew, gooooodness yes :P

Champagne by fanshae

Hello feminization fic with a splash of daddy kink, nice to see you! This is a great PWP.

Long Before We Both Thought the Same Thing by allyasavedtheday

This is a prequel to the great fic If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I’d Lie), and it’s such a good read. I loved it, and if you like the friends to lovers trope, chances are you’re going to love it too! There are so many sweet moments!

Just Like the Wolf Before He Bites by whoknows

What a unique take on werewolves! I couldn’t help but love this fic, especially because Harry is so tactile and Louis indulges him. Give it a read for sure!

My One and Own (I Wanna Get You Alone) by beautlouis

WHEW yas PWP! This is a hot one shot where Louis’ all about getting Harry off as many times as possible. Glorious!

ml fic: love to watch him walk away

Marinette was never going to talk about Chat Noir again. Unless she was in costume and there was an akuma who needed to be dealt with, she would never again let the name pass her lips. 


She pressed her hands to her now-scarlet cheeks, wishing they were still cool from the outside winds. Alas, they were not; if nothing else, they were making her face redder. She settled for letting her forehead drop to her desk. Gently, so that the teacher wouldn’t scold her.

“I want to die,” she moaned, words garbled by the desk surface.

Alya being Alya, of course, understood perfectly.

“I don’t think he heard us,” she said, apologetic, which was appropriate, for loathe as Marinette was to point fingers, this was very much Alya’s fault.

He did, Marinette thought furiously, peeking from under her bangs to Adrien’s pink-tinged neck. Even though he laughed off his fall with grace, he looks stiffer than usual, and he is very definitely absolutely not looking at them.

Marinette gave an inaudible whimper.

Of all the embarrassing comments he could have potentially overhead—she can still see him sprawled out on the floor, eyes wide, face flushed pink and looking right at her.

God, he must think that she is such a pervert.

“I am never going to talk in public again.” she muttered under her breath. Her skin was on fire. “I will have to become a mime. Maybe Mylene’s dad will take me on as an apprentice.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” said Alya, her cadence comforting. “Lots of people talk about superhero crushes; it’s no big deal.”

“But I don’t have a crush on him!” Marinette nearly wailed, but that would have attracted even more attention than Adrien had by falling over in his chair. “I was just—just making an observation!”

Alya patted her on the head. “Of course you were.”

“I was!” said Marinette, indignant, blushing fiercely. “And I’m not the only one who says it! Alix said it too!”


Alya was clearly restraining amused laughter. Briefly, Marinette entertained the notion of petty revenge. Maybe give her a day-old croissant instead of a fresh one.

No, she couldn’t.

But still.

Of all of the comments he could have overheard…

“I’m surprised that you had a chance to notice that about Chat Noir,” said Alya, also in a whisper, and apparently determined despite Marinette’s dramatics to continue this conversation. “Y’know, considering you-know-who.”

“How could I not notice?” Marinette demanded, her whisper in a decibel that probably only dogs could hear. Well, and Alya, who just understood. “He struts around all the time. And-and he has a nice body and it’s a very tight suit!”

A loud clattering made both girls look up. Adrien, apparently, had dropped his pencil. When he leaned over to retrieve it, they could very clearly see that his blush had deepened to a crimson that rivaled Ladybug’s bodysuit.

“I think he heard again,” said Alya, sheepish.

Marinette wondered if she could just melt into the floor.

author’s notes: if you want to know what Marinette said, it’s all in the title :)

anonymous asked:

Solavellan fic request: Solas and lavellan riding horseback together. -.-

It’s a simple enough equation – there’s three of them, and only two mounts.

Dorian,” Ellana sighs, when the same refusal has been offered twice. “I’ve told you already, Myrtle is too small to carry two people.” As though to offer her agreement, the mare gives an affirmative snort. “Either Solas rides with you or he walks, in which case we’ll be lucky if we make it back to camp before nightfall.”

The threat has precious little effect. “I fail to see why I should be punished, just because someone’s hart got spooked and decided it would much rather take its chances in the wilderness – no offence to you of course, Solas.”

“None taken.”

Ellana groans. “It’s not his fault.”

“Oh. My mistake, then. Did he not lose the hart?”

“He was busy trying to keep a demon off your back.”

Dorian gives a great shrug. “And yet, our mounts are still here. In fact, I’m not sure the demon was what scared it off. My money is on that dreadful tunic.”

“Oh for the love of–”

They bicker back and forth for a while, and Solas regards the slowly sinking sun with a wary look – they will have to make their own camp at this rate, if they’re to avoid travelling through the night. He considers raising the issue when Ellana gives a quiet, muffled shriek, and resolves instead to stay silent.

“I just don’t see why you can’t take the gelding,” Dorian says then, crossing his arms with enough petulance to make Solas feel, suddenly, very old. “It works out better for everyone.”

Ellana visibly bristles. “Not everyone, just y–”

“It is no matter,” Solas interrupts calmly. “If we take the gelding, Dorian may have Myrtle to himself. If that is agreeable,” he adds, with a glance at Ellana. “She is your horse, after all.”

She looks like she wants to protest, but seems to settle for glaring. “Fine. I’ll take the gelding with Solas. Happy now?”

Dorian grins, and Solas only shakes his head, turning to retrieve their packs where they’d dropped them when they’d come across the rift. And they must think him out of earshot, because as he moves he catches the quiet exchange–

“I hate you,” Ellana murmurs below her breath. “I really do.”

Dorian’s voice is a little harder to miss, even when he’s lowered it. “You won’t after this, if all goes well.”

“Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be coy, you don’t have the face for it. You know exactly what I’m getting at – close proximity, steady, rocking movements. When you think about it, it’s not entirely unlike se–”

The rest of the word is muffled, but the small hand slapped across his mouth doesn’t quite manage to stifle his laughter, and when Solas turns back towards them Ellana’s face has gone a very telling shade of red.

Keep reading

It’s become a routine.

During the day, they are Marinette and Adrien, classmates and maybe even friends — maybe even more, when they don’t care to hide the teasing banter, the affectionate looks. Daytime means stolen glances, fingertips barely touching, and smiles with secrets only the other understands.

As Ladybug and Chat Noir, their evenings hold a sense of freedom they’re deprived of during the day. There are no classmates to hide from on the rooftops of Paris, no nosy best friends to avoid.

He is free. She sees it in his lively expressions and his restless energy — a result of repressing it every day behind a mask he can’t remove; she sees it in how openly he loves her, the fear of getting caught insignificant because, well, everyone already knows how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug.

She doesn’t have the same freedom. Not as Ladybug, not while there are akumas to be fought and people to be saved. Not when her love can be used against her.

No, her freedom comes at night, in the form of a black cat slinking through the hatch in her ceiling. Her freedom is the sharing of covers as they lie beside each other, conversations whispered in the dark, and smiles pressed against pillows — things that started the first night he ever came to her, to Marinette, as Chat Noir.

(“Why are you in my bed?”

“Why are you not?”)

Now, when she curls up against him, ear pressed against his heartbeat, she’s not quite Marinette but not quite Ladybug either. Just as he isn’t completely Chat Noir or Adrien. Because at night, when it’s only the two of them lying awake in her bed, all that matters is the whispered I love you’s before they, too, fall asleep with the city.

The evening before the coronation ceremony in Erebor, Thorin is nervous and worried, and Bilbo sits with him, shares a smoke, and when they’re both in that reckless state of being tired and very open with each other, Thorin tells Bilbo about the time when he was very small and saw fireflies on the roof of one of the caves and thought they were stars. He tells him how the darkness of the mountain sometimes made him feel trapped, alongside the knowledge that one day he would have to rule it - a knowledge he’d been carrying around since he can remember - and that the fireflies were one of the first such bright things that he’d ever seen in the darkness. They made him feel better, made the darkness (and the future) less oppressing. The fireflies gave Thorin hope.

He doesn’t think much of telling this story and isn’t even sure Bilbo heard him properly since the hobbit seems half-asleep. But Bilbo being Bilbo, of course he hears Thorin. He hears what Thorin is saying, as well as all the things he isn’t - that he is nervous, maybe even scared, that being king was never a matter of choice for him, that he has doubts. That the darkness is sometimes heavy. Bilbo hears Thorin asking for hope, even if Thorin doesn’t know he is asking.

The next day, just as Thorin is getting ready in his rooms, there is a knock on his door and Bilbo enters, carrying a small jar. He is dressed in finery for the coronation, so at first Thorin is too busy gawking at him to even notice the jar, until Bilbo hands it to him. In the jar, a small swarm of fireflies is glowing brightly.

Thorin looks at Bilbo and Bilbo wants to tell him that he will make a good king, even though he never had a say in the matter of becoming one, but instead he says: ‘It’s ok to be afraid of the dark sometimes, Thorin’, because as much as he wants Thorin to know that Bilbo has faith in him and that he will do good, Bilbo knows it’s more important that Thorin knows it is alright that sometimes he fails, that he doesn’t always have be brave and strong and fearless.

And so, Thorin goes to the coronation and he sets the fireflies free, watches them fly up into the shadows under the ceiling. He looks at them for a short while, remembering how they made him feel when he was little -like things would be alright after all. The feeling is familiar, but he is no longer a child, and, besides, there is something else he can look to now when he feels the darkness closing in. So when they place the crown on his head, Thorin does not look at the fireflies. He looks at the brightest thing in the darkness.

He looks at Bilbo.

I’m imagining that when they first see each other it is in the midst of a frantic struggle to keep Robin and Roland safe. There is a glance, a breath, recognition, relief, and then they are too busy to focus on each other. Then, they have Zelena, Emma and Charming and Snow all holding onto her between them.

“Let’s go,” Regina says, turning to open her car door, offering for them to ride with her so they don’t have to be near that woman any more, but Robin’s having none of it, catches her hand and pulls her into his arms for a fierce hug and buries his face in her hair. Not only are he and his son safe–he has his soul mate back, and he’s never letting her go again.

aro!dean who gets frustrated that any kind of grand gesture he does will automatically be coded as romantic bc to him it’s not romantic, it’s a sign of his loyalty and devotion to his partner

Things that I am still not over:

+Regina stumbling into the forest and grabbing Robin and kissing him

+Robin crashing back into her so hard they stumbled

+Robin probably walking her back to her house after an hour or two of making out and grinning his dimpled grin like a goofy idiot because she let him hold her hand in the dark on the way

+Regina shyly-but-not-shyly-because-she’s-not-a-lovesick-fool-okay casually suggesting that he might come over in the morning for breakfast

+Robin agreeing and kissing her goodbye on her doorstep, and then kissing her again because she smiled and he always has to kiss that smile

+Regina smiling as she gets ready for bed

+Robin nearly walking into a tree on his way back to camp

+Two mugs of coffee cooling to room temperature on the counter the next morning while he backs her against the fridge and kisses her some more

+Regina giggling

+Regina glancing at the clock and realizing she’s going to be late for her meeting

+Robin walking her there and managing to reign in the urge to hold her hand, because it’s morning and people are out and he wants her to feel comfortable

+Robin grasping her hand the second they’re inside and insisting that they’re alone, leaning in to kiss her goodbye, which…erm…ends up taking a little longer than he was planning, because they both get a little distracted

+Robin standing in the hallway with a bittersweet smile and his hand outstretched and wishing for only the second time ever in his life that he had magic, so that he could bring back Henry’s memories and take away some of her pain