free to good homes

Hades hates Danny. All souls go to the underworld (aka the Ghost Zone) eventually and become part of his domain. But not Danny. He straddles the two worlds like Persephone (side note: holy shit halfa!Persephone can you imagine?), eternally just out of Hades’s control.

So Hades takes matters into his own hands. Every now and then, a portal to the Ghost Zone will appear next to Danny and Hades will try to lure/drag him in. It’s gotten to the point where Danny just carries around a broom and hits Hades with it whenever he tries to start shit.

Mr. Lancer’s class is confused the first time Danny brings a broom to class, but they’re absolutely dumbfounded when he hits the god of the underworld with it and says “shoo.”

Remember when Carolina first showed up and she was always angry with the reds and blues and always yelled at them but noW WHEN SHE TALKS TO THEM SHE ALWAYS SOUNDS AMUSED LIKE THESE ARE HER NEW BABIES AND LOWKEY SHE THINKS THEYRE PRECIOUS AND JFC SHE HAS FRIENDS THAT SHE FINDS AMUSING AND SHE KNOWS TO VALUE THAT NOW AND UGH I BET SHE ENJOYS EVERY STUPID LITTLE THING THEY DO AND UGH I HATE EVERYTHING

yuuri isnt as verbal as viktor when it comes to love confessions. it only makes viktor happier everytime he does it (ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ)💕 #yurionice

Domestic boyfriends Harry and Draco are life, so here you go:

  • Harry always wakes up first. He likes to watch Draco sleep.
  • Draco always wakes up and hits Harry’s face with a pillow
  • “I thought you left that little obsession of yours at Hogwarts, Potter” and Harry just laughs, both wrestling around the bed until they finally kiss. 
  • Draco loves watching Harry cook. 
  • Cooking lessons seem like a great idea, but Draco wearing a apron is too distracting. Harry’s hands and mouth are all over Draco before he can even react
  • Harry always leaves little notes to Draco before going to work. 
  • Draco often claims he throws them all away but he actually keeps them. Except the ones who say ‘i love you’ It would be really rude of him to not answer back.
  • “Really, Potter. Cuddling after sex? What are you, a Hufflepuff?”
  • “Shut up, Malfoy”
It is May and the nights blend together like butter and honey or peaches and cream, but not both. Which is to say, nothing is going how I thought it would. This is last June in reverse. The boxes are filling themselves. I am sleeping next to the packing tape. The old hurt is spilling out everywhere. My heart is buzzing again. My heart is a wasp’s nest. My heart is a monument to absence. A postcard that says: YOU WERE HERE ONCE, BUT YOU’RE NOT ANYMORE. All of my dreams are about being weightless. Leaving the heaviness outside and praying for rain in Texas. I put my regret into a box and write FREE TO A GOOD HOME on the side of it. I still hope everyone who walks by has the good sense not to pick it up. I am waiting for someone other than myself to call this predictable. To tell me it had to go this way. To say, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU REALLY EXPECTED.
—  SEPARATION IN THE AMERICAN SOUTH by Trista Mateer