Yes! Please, Ranya 'From Ruins Flowers Bloom'. How do you feel about Sea Mechanic? Do you think you would ever write something from that verse?
how do I feel about Sea Mechanic. how do I feel about sea mechanic?!
I have so many feels about them.
It’s canon that Luna is like the only person that can calm Raven down when she’s freaking out. (okay I’m sure Clarke could too but I’m setting down my princess mechanic shipper goggles for a second). Luna is fierce, which matches well with Raven, but where Raven is fire, Luna is the calm sea. And yes they both have their moments where that flips. The fire can be zen and calming and healing and warm, and the sea can mean death and destruction and cold.
They balance each other.
They care for each other.
Raven doesn’t touch many people but she reaches out to Luna. She lets Luna hold her. She does what Luna asks her to do, which means Raven respects her. And Luna knows that, she can sense it. She sees it.
So yeah, I may write some sea mechanic one day.
But also, may I present you all with the idea of if Anya lived: Anya/Raven/Luna
Pairing: JayTim Event: JayTimWeek Summer 2017 Summary: Wherein Jason is a nervous, lovesick mess and Tim is clueless. Notes: I’M A WEEK LATE; forgive me ;__;
“Tonight is perfect,” Jason admitted, just as the ferris wheel carriage reached its zenith. After all, the moon was full and the stars were bright, and the neon haze below made him feel giddy. His gaze slid to the other side of the cart and he shoved forward a drooping bouquet of wildflowers, wilted from the motorcycle ride.
Against his ribs, his heart jack-hammered.
“It’s perfect…because of you,” he breathed, swallowing thickly right after the confession. It was a moment of truth. His palms were sticky. His throat had gone dry. He ached…and then he groaned just before unceremoniously crumpling backwards, causing the carriage to tip sideways and creak under the sudden shift of weight.
The bench across from him was, of course, empty.
Had Timothy Jackson Drake actually been sitting there, Jason would have undoubtedly taken a swan-dive from the cart and disappeared into the crowds below. A man’s pride could only take so much in a ten minute period, and confessing to someone like Tim seemed like a surefire way to throw your heart into a blender.
After all, Tim was calm. Streamlined. Kind of nerdy, but that I’ve-got-my-shit-together type, which spoke to Jason’s nerdiness on an elevated level. But also, Tim was unaccessible.
Always on patrol.
“Well?” he asked, eyeing the bouquet in his hand for advice. “What do you think? He loves me, he loves me not?”
They stared at him. Jason stared back.
One daisy wilted further.
“Uggggggh,” Jason dropped his hand, unintentionally letting the flowers slap against the seat.
When the ride ended and the cart door opened, the elderly attendant stepped forward to help only to pause abruptly.
“Sir?” he asked.
From his collapsed position on the bench, Jason simply lifted his wrist. The flowers made a sad sound. Jason sighed.
He felt pathetic and he hadn’t even been rejected yet.
Jason thought about giving up. Trying a different time. Trying a different person. But the attendant’s hand came forward as he took a step inside the carriage; he saw the weeping flowers, the far-away, love-lost look in Jason’s eyes.
Maybe he sees himself, Jason thought. Did he once try to woo a lover in a ferris wheel?
The old man said, very seriously, “Son. You need to get off.”
Sterek Valentine Prompt: Stiles is the romantic one, he plans the dates and anniversaries, etc. Derek decides that for this Valentine's Day he's going to do something special but everything goes wrong/gets ruined, Stiles finds him pouting, possibly in the middle of a mess. Stiles comforts him, lots of fluff please :)
Throughout their entire relationship, Stiles had been the romantic one despite his typically flippant, irreverent attitude especially when it came to love and romance. He was the one who planned all of their dates and anniversaries, the one who arranged surprise parties and holiday celebrations.
But with their first Valentine’s Day together quickly approaching, Derek decided to take the initiative and plan something himself. And, of course, everything had gone to shit.
There had been a mix up with the flowers he had ordered, a few days earlier placing an order for a bouquet of pink orchids and carnations in a bid to get away from cliché red roses. But the bouquet that arrived on his doorstep wasn’t what he ordered. Not at all.
It was a bouquet of stark white lilies. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have cared much about the order being messed up if the flowers were for anyone else, but white lilies were Stiles’ least favorite flower. He hated them.
They’d had white lilies at his mother’s funeral, the sickly sweet smell of pollen filling the Stilinski home for weeks following the funeral. Once upon a time, Stiles hadn’t really minded them but now all they did was remind him of death. Derek couldn’t very well give a bouquet of them to his boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.
He had immediately contacted the florist company he had ordered the flowers from, waiting on hold for upwards of twenty minutes before he actually got to talk to a real person. They informed him that they could rectify the mistake. But he wouldn’t get the correct bouquet until the next day, the company swamped with orders due to the holiday.
He contemplated simply ordering a new bouquet from another florist but everyone he called wasn’t accepting new orders, leaving him stuck with the wrong bouquet. Groaning, he dumped the flowers into the trash can, deciding that they just wouldn’t have any flowers. Flowers were overdone, anyway.
The box of chocolates he had gotten for Stiles was wrong, too. He had explicitly requested all peanut butter chocolates, Stiles’ absolute favorite, from a gourmet fine chocolate company but it had still gotten messed up.
Derek had snuck one of the candies, hoping Stiles wouldn’t mind that much or even notice, taking a bite out of the little chocolate only to find that it didn’t have a peanut butter filling. It had a strawberry center.
While normally that too would not have been very upsetting, Derek himself actually a huge fan of strawberries, there was one big problem. Because there was only one thing on the face of the earth that Stiles was allergic to ― strawberries.
Like the flower shop, the chocolate company offered to fix their mistake, the next business day of course. Popping another candy into his mouth, making a mental note that he would have to brush his teeth again before Stiles came over, Derek tossed the box of chocolates into the trash.
He consoled himself with the fact that chocolates were a little too cliché, almost as much as red roses. Besides, he didn’t imagine anaphylactic shock was all that romantic.
With both the flowers and the chocolates discarded, Derek had to think on his feet, racking his brain for some other way to show Stiles a great Valentine’s Day aside from mind-blowing sex. He finally settled on baking a red velvet cake which, while fitting the theme of the holiday, also happened to be Stiles’ flavor of cake. But that got ruined too.
The cake was burned to an ashen crisp in the oven, filling the loft’s kitchen with thick black smoke as Derek fumbled to throw the brick of charcoal that had once been a pan of cake batter into the sink, ignoring the burns the hot pan left on his hands. Coughing at the smoke that soon engulfed the entire loft, Derek grabbed a hand towel to wave by the smoke alarm that had blared to life with a piercing screech that physically hurt his ears.
He had managed to ruin everything. Stiles was going to arrive at the loft, see the damage he had done, and think that Derek was an awful boyfriend. And he would be right. Derek couldn’t even arrange something for Valentine’s Day without screwing it all up.
He buried his face in his hands, trying not to cry as the fire alarms continued their incessant shrieking, his ears ringing painfully. That was how Stiles found him fifteen minutes later when he let himself into the loft with the key Derek had given him for their two month anniversary.
You’d been home less than an hour and your apartment didn’t even look the tiniest bit clean or fixed. On top of the window that was now shattered and the hole in the wall, you had to pay a fortune to the landlord to repair them. You room was another story, clothes tossed out of the drawers, items thrown everywhere and not a single clue as to what this robber was searching for or even took. Other than a trail of messes, nothing looked gone.
Your emotions where still on high from the night before. What made it even worse was when you walked into the kitchen and there was the rag you used on Chris’ forehead resting in the sink. Just when you went to reach for it to discard, a knock on your door scared the daylights out of you.
A sharp intake of breath as you turned, your hand on your heart as you headed to the door. It was a teenager with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a clipboard in his other. “Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked looking around your apartment in confusion.
“Yeah.” You said walking towards him. “Who are these from?”
He looks at the clipboard, “Doesn’t say.”
He hands you clipboard to sign and then the large overpriced bouquet of deep red roses. You gave the teen a small tip and closed the door gently. There was a small card on the roses that read nothing more than, “I’m sorry” and in the trash can they went. Another act of apologies from Chris was the last thing you needed, he didn’t even have the respect to leave them at the office again. Now you were angry cleaning, throwing things in every direction; angrily shouting that Chris was overstepping his boundaries.
“He thinks he can apologize and then send me flowers and still be on my good side. He’s got another thing coming.” You shouted as you lift you bookshelf up, pushing it back up against the wall again. The rest of the morning was spent cursing Chris’ name and the robbers name not only had he destroyed your apartment that created a bill but he’d also broken the small frog shaped jewelry box–which couldn’t fit a single thing but you’d had it since you were a child meaning it had a place in your heart plus you’d cut your hand when you taped the window up–which technically wasn’t his fault but you were blaming him anyway .
Hi guys, I’m alive and I’ll try to post art more ofter here ^^ I don’t have anything finished, but I really wanted to post something cuz I hate the last art I posted :/ I hope it’s allright (I’m still practicing like everything)
Excerpt: “I guess so. Baekhyun is not really the type who lies to people.”
“Is that so?! Why had he lied to me then?!”, you had a real hard time keeping your voice down.
he? Or is it something you told yourself because it is easier to accuse
him of lying then facing the truth?”
Word count: 3147 // I hope you are satisfied because I am 😁
Warnings: Violence, Angst and stuff 😋
Author’s note: My lovelies I surpassed 300 followers! Within a month or so! I can’t believe it that so many people like my content! I think I have grown as a writer and it’s something really precious to me! So thank you for the support and please enjoy this part ♥
Summary:Getting the same order every day following the afternoon classes you took at the University, your life had been your education. That is until Kylo, a Barista at Java the Hutt’s cafe, walked into it. Suddenly, your world was stained by love and Kylo’s past, causing everything to change.
A/N: Hello! Tomorrow will be the last part for this mini series! @cryxlowrites and I are more than thankful/happy that you all have enjoyed is! As always, enjoy and feedback is welcomed.
While he opened his closet, Kylo sucked in a nervous breath. His fingers shaking as he squatted down, pushing aside the coats and other boxes he had stacked across the wall. He then reached around a heavy metal case, pulling it away from the others and dragging it away.
The first time that he sees her, it’s raining. Well, it’s a downpour. Same thing really. Either way, he stands frozen in the street, stark blue eyes catching sight of the pattern of her flowing dress, the bright flowers on the cloth a heavy contrast to the dark, looming clouds above.
She seems to be in a rush (as most people would be when the heavens themselves try to drown all of the human civilization.) Her legs work frantically, rushing to carry her to her undisclosed location. She’s stepped in four puddles already, her hair is streaming down her face in a wet mess, her frantic eyes scanning her surroundings for some sort of shelter that could keep her from getting wetter than she already was, the dress clinging to her frame.
Bucky’s an idiot. At least that’s what Sam would say after seeing him stand out in the rain, freezing his dumb ass off, most definitely in danger of catching a cold.
Then again, of course, Bucky wouldn’t pay attention to Sam’s bitch ass, because despite the cold rain seeping into his bones, he swears that he’s never felt warmer.
summary: Pastel Dan is bullied and beaten up but his knight in shining armor, punk Phil is there to help him out.
wc: 1.6k (i’m really proud, i enjoy writing and then i write a lot yay!)
tw: bullying, homophobia, violence, blood, hospitals and a smidge of homophobic parents/abusive parents
a/n: okay so i love pastelxpunk and homophobia and bullying fics so that might be most of my fics lmao but whatever (if you guys want I might make a part 2 which will include more of a backstory to the homophobic parents?!) also apologies for me being incapable of thinking of titles. (hopefully will be posting a fic every monday?!)
Dan walked into school dressed in a pastel pink jumper and white skinny jeans, outfit complete with a pastel pink and blue flower crown. Dan walked into school head down low and already ready for the day to be over. Even though Dan hated high school and the only part he looked forward to was seeing Phil.
Phil was his black leather clad boyfriend that was his complete opposite. Phil was a punk, extremely popular boy who had girls, and boys, swooning at him all the time.
But Phil loved Dan even if all the boys, and girls, swooning at Phil hated Dan.
Dan was harassed daily when he was without Phil. People called him faggot or gay (which he still did not understand why people considered that an insult) or weak. They would smash his favorite flowers crowns and call him a fairy. They tripped him on the way to class and stole his sketchbook from time to time. Though it all stopped when Phil took his hand.
Everyone was intimidated by Phil, even the teachers, but they all had good reason. His body was covered in illegal tattoos and a surplus of piercings. Not to mention Phil was not scared to hurt anyone who touched Dan. Even though Phil’s exterior emanated a bad boy persona Phil was a softie at heart.