get cape wear

tacticalgrandma  asked:

non-chudley ask which location would you choose to fight each of the hamilton characters?

i’ve been preparing for this question my entire life. thank u. here are my thoughts

Alexander: i would fight alexander hamilton in his own office. i know it seems counterintuitive but i feel like i could distract him by destroying a bunch of his shit. our respective scrappiness would ensure a close match, there would probably be biting involved and it would culminate in me stabbing him in the chest with a letter opener

Burr: I don’t want to fight burr. i think it’d be really depressing, like beating up an old man. i’ll pass on this one

Eliza: eliza and i would fight in a sunlit baroque dining room at precisely 10:00am and it would be preceded by 15 minutes of drinking tea and having a very calm yet ominous and metaphor-laden conversation from opposite sides of the dining table. the fight would end in a tie where we both decide to spare each others lives and part ways with a newfound sense of mutual respect

Washington: i would literally fight this man anywhere. any time, any place, i will fight george washington, and lose magnificently

Angelica: angelica and i would recreate the blacksmith scene from Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl

Peggy: i would fight peggy in a grassy field dotted with wildflowers in the early autumn sunlight and it wouldnt be a real fight it’d be a pretend fight with our dog and then we’d kiss

Lafayette: i’d fight laf in the park next to my parents’ house because its where he got supremely fucked up one time in a humiliating defeat and his bad memories may give me the upper hand. JUST KIDDING not only would he kick my ass extremely easily he’d probably be charming and kind to me the entire time, and then i would feel bad

Laurens: i would fight laurens in bed. not in a sexy way, just because i feel like the only way i would stand a chance is by ambushing him in his sleep and smothering him

Mulligan: why would i bother honestly. i’d fight herc in a cemetery next to a freshly dug grave so he could just dunk me right in. i trust him to give me a proper burial and come back every once in a while to leave flowers

Maria: i wouldn’t fight maria what the fuck

Jefferson: here it is: i would fight jefferson in the parking lot behind a denny’s at 3 in the morning

Madison: i kind of just assumed madison and jefferson would attempt to tag-team me, therefore i would also fight madison in the denny’s parking lot. i use the word “fight” very loosely here since i feel like i would just have to yell at him or like gently tip him over or something

Philip: philip is a child but i would still fight him. maybe just a little though. maybe just a heated debate

KGIII: i would slap-fight king george in ye olde royal boxing ring surrounded by royal subjects and press photographers. he’d go down pretty quickly and hopefully i’d get to wear the cape

Jason, Percy, and Capes

Or; Bi Ace Jason and His Journey of Self-Discovery

Or; Jason is Ace and I Am Projecting

So eventually Percy calling Jason “Superman” becomes kind of a thing between them. Jason only lets Percy call him that, and Percy uses it both to kind of tease Jason when he’s being extra heroic and praetor-y, and also as an affectionate nickname for his friend.

One year for his birthday, Percy buys him a Superman cape. He doesn’t wear it often, but it’s big enough that he uses it as a blanket a lot. When they hang out and play video games together, the winner gets to wear the cape. (He’ll never admit it, but sometimes Jason will let Percy win a little easier so that the cape will smell like sea breeze for a while after he leaves.)

A few months later, he sits Percy down and tells him that he likes boys as well as girls. Percy smiles, tells him that’s awesome! and that he does too, and hugs him. Jason hugs him back, burying his face in Percy’s shoulder. They watch a movie that night instead of playing video games, the Superman cape wrapped around them like a blanket where they sit shoulder-to-shoulder on Jason’s couch.

That year, Percy gets Jason another cape for his birthday. This one is just as big, but rather than red, it’s striped blue, purple, and pink. The bi flag, Percy tells him, a huge grin on his face. Then he unfurls it, and Jason sees the crudely sewn Superman logo in the middle. Jason laughs at that, head thrown back and just so damn happy, and Percy laughs with him. Jason refuses to take the cape off for the rest of the day (not that it mattered, since they spent the rest of the day bingewatching sitcoms on Netflix, but it mattered to Jason.)

Sometime later, they’re sitting next to each other on the couch, Percy’s legs flung across Jason’s lap, their video game controllers left on the coffee table from their last round. The bi flag Superman cape is tied around Jason’s shoulders since he’d been the one to blue shell Percy in the last seconds of the race and take first place. Percy leans forward, close enough that Jason can smell that sea breeze that just seemed to follow Percy everywhere, and starts picking at and fidgeting with the edge of the cape. So, if you’re Superman, he begins, nervousness wobbling his voice, is there any chance… I could be your Lois Lane? Jason smiles at him.

Things are going well between them. Dating is fun, even if sometimes their “dates” only consist of lighting a candle on the coffee table as they share a $5 pizza and watch cartoons together. Really, things between them don’t change much, they just get, well, closer. There’s more touching now, and for the most part, Jason likes it. He likes kissing Percy. He likes kissing Percy a lot, actually. And he likes the touching. He likes holding Percy’s hand, and he likes cuddling with him on the couch without fear of it being awkward. He likes when Percy comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his middle and rests his chin on Jason’s shoulder or presses his forehead to the back of Jason’s neck. He likes when they fall asleep curled up together and wake up with their legs tangled and Percy’s head resting on his chest, even if he drools, the bi flag Superman cape wrapped around them. There’s some things he doesn’t like so much, though. It’s nothing Percy’s done, because Percy would never do something Jason wasn’t explicitly okay with, but it’s the thought of it that bothers him. The thought of removing clothes and touching other places that leaves a distinct feeling of discomfort and repulsion in the pit of his stomach.

Unsure of what to do about it or what it means, he does the only thing he can think of and calls Piper. Surely, a daughter of Aphrodite would know what to do. He tells her what’s been going on, and when he’s done, she tells him that she thinks he may be asexual. When he lets out a noise of confusion, she tells him that it would probably be best if he talked to her half-brother Mitchell, since he actually is ace and could probably explain things better than she could. She gives him her brother’s number, and he thanks her.

Jason steels himself for what is to come. The talk with Mitchell had helped, and now that Jason has the proper words to put with what he’s feeling, he decided it was time to talk to Percy about it. It’s date night, which this time means takeout, a “clean linen” scented candle Jason had bought on sale, and a Star Wars marathon. When Percy steps through Jason’s front door, he greets him with a kiss and tells him he needs to talk to him before dinner. Percy nods, then asks if everything is okay as they sit facing each other on the couch. Jason nods, takes a deep breath, and carefully lays things out on the table, metaphorically speaking. He tells Percy about how much he likes being with him, but how the thought of doing… he fumbles for words… more… makes him nauseous. It’s nothing Percy had done wrong, just that this is who he is. He’s asexual, he explains, sex-repulsed. And he feels Percy has a right to know.

Percy has been nodding along as Jason explains things, ending with how he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with doing anything much beyond what they are doing currently. Okay, Percy tells him. He’s happy with how they are now, anyway, and he loves Jason so much that as long as Jason is happy, he will be happy, and that he’s happy Jason’s comfortable enough to tell him and that things are perfect as they are, and—


He’d said—

I love you too, Jason says, and pulls Percy into a tight embrace for a few moments before pulling back and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. That kiss brakes when Percy’s smile grows too big for it. The rest of date night goes off without a hitch, and they fall asleep halfway through Return of the Jedi cuddled together under both Superman capes.

When Jason’s birthday rolls around again, he’s surprised when Percy hands him a familiar looking box. He opens it, and instead of blue, purple, and pink, the cape he pulls out is striped with black, gray, white, and purple. Percy’s grin is so bright Jason can’t help but smile back. He unfurls it, and sees the Superman logo stitched into it, slightly neater than it was on his bi flag one. He hugs Percy then, and Percy hugs him back, whispering I love you, Superman, into the junction of Jason’s neck and shoulder. There’s a lot of kissing after that. Then, they end up curled in the corner of the couch, legs tangled together and Percy half on Jason’s lap. Jason has his newest cape wrapped around his shoulders, while Percy has taken the bi flag one, and the red one lays across their laps. They talk for hours, about everything and nothing, from some new designs Annabeth has been coming up with to which flavor of Starburst tastes the best. Jason isn’t sure exactly when they drift off, but the last thing he remembers is nuzzling into Percy’s hair and being hit with that sea breeze as if he’s actually sitting on the sand and looking out at the ocean itself, and a passing thought about how comfortable and perfect he feels wrapped up there with Percy and all of their capes.

Someone got this picture of me leaving pride last Saturday and honestly???? Mood. 



사라지지 마 이게 끝인 걸 
다시는 이런 사랑 없는 걸 
Don’t break my soul 
 그 눈빛과 말 모든 것 다 Forever 


Sarajiji ma ige kkeuchin geol
Dasineun ireon sarang eobtneun geol
Don’t break my soul
Geu nunbit-gwa mal modeun geot da Forever 

cr. Jean Soo

If You Love Me for Me - Bughead - Chapter 2

Dulcenia, otherwise known as the Cooper kingdom is unstable — it has been for years. Since the death of King Harold Cooper, his wife Alice and her daughter have been struggling to make ends meet for the kingdom. The royal family is left weak, and vulnerable. When a wealthy, growing family, the Blossoms, begin their fight for the throne, Princess Elizabeth is faced with a series of impossible decisions, and some newfound feelings for her tutor and best friend, Forsythe.

Warnings: warning for angst in the future, but nothing (I don’t think) in this chapter.
Pairings: Betty/Jughead (who goes by his birth name in this fic), some archieronnie in later chapters, although they aren’t the focus of the story at all

(A/N: Behold, the long awaited second chapter of If You Love Me for Me! this should be up on ao3 today. let me know what you think! here’s the first chapter if you missed it.)

thank you @raptorlily​ for beta reading!

Elizabeth woke up to her bed cold and empty, wiping her eyes to brush away tears that dried to her cheeks the night before. She noted the heavy door to her bedroom was slightly ajar, a bit disappointed that Forsythe had left her alone. It was unlike him. She flopped back onto her bed, mind occupied of countless thoughts she was unsure how to deal with.

Not only was the prospect of marriage to a man she didn’t love weighing on her, but the potential for war? What would happen to their people? And Forsythe? What if he got hurt because of her? The thought made her shudder. He’d suffered enough, with a horrid family life that was the direct cause of him residing in the palace in the first place. Not to mention how guilty she felt — what had she ever done to deserve someone like him anyway?

 He cared for her unconditionally since the moment he set foot in the castle. She even suspected that he shared the same feelings, the desire for something beyond a friendship between them. Her eyes often lingered on him when he was not looking; when he sat with his little sister in the library or when he bent down to pick a rose for her from one of  the bushes in the palace gardens.

 Ethel, the maid, walked into her bedroom holding a silver tray full of exquisite breakfast foods. She opened her mouth to speak but noticed Elizabeth’s dejected demeanor and decided not to pry. Elizabeth sat up, noting the presence of another person and deciding not to mope.

 “Oh, hello Ethel,” she said, trying to give a wholesome smile that came off rather half-hearted.

 “Good morning, milady. Breakfast?”
“Yes please,” Elizabeth said, resigning herself to her meal.

“Oh and I was doing a quick sweep of Forsythe’s bedroom, this note was addressed to you.” And with that, Ethel reached into her apron and pulled out a pristine white piece of paper folded messily. The corners didn’t line up, but she could recognize his handwriting in what had bled through the parchment.

 “I’m going to go run your bath now, Princess,” Ethel announced.

 Elizabeth nodded absentmindedly, willing her fingers to stop shaking. Resting the tray of food on her nightstand, she carefully pried the folded page open. She took a deep breath and began to read to herself.

 “Dear Elizabeth,

Every day, I look into your eyes and see how absolutely full of life they are. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and not just for your blonde hair and rosy cheeks, but for your kind heart too.  My spirits rise every time you enter a room, and I see no less allure when you exit, leaving behind traces of you. You are a beacon of light in the dark times I have been faced with throughout my life. At any moment, I can turn and face you and feel safe. One day, I will find the courage to press my own lips to yours and pour out the sentiment that has been a part of me as far back as my memory can go.

Every single time your hand even rests over mine, I will my heart to be still. I know not where these feelings emerged from, but they have existed day in and day out, and I so wish they were returned. However, with talk of war and marriage, I wonder if maybe I should forget even the faint possibility of the happy forever you spoke of, even though it’s the only thing I dream of at every hour. 

You resemble the most resplendent rose. Forever in bloom, your petals blossom and show your front to the world, an image of perfection and class. You are beautiful and fragile at times, but your sharp thorns are just as much a part of who you are. I love them more than you could fathom. You are sweet and soft, but you must allow the darkness in you to be present. Do not forget where a flower’s roots grow, under the earth and far from the light. That darkness is just as important to your life as the sunshine.

I only wish I could be enough to bring you eternal happiness. I know how your royal life has felt trapped, and I so wish there was a place I could bring you, far far away, to watch your eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and give you all the chocolates you could possibly dream of, without anyone telling you otherwise. I wish I could lighten your mother’s overbearing gaze, knowing how miserable it makes you. I have seen the crescent scars adorning your palms, how they open up when you’re faced with pressures and stresses that feel insurmountable.

Please do not force your nails into the skin. If you’d let me, I would kiss your hands every day and night, for I love them, as much as I love you. Scars and all.

Once again, I have poured my heart out to a page than to your face, and am tucking it away as one of the countless confessions I am too afraid to share with you. Perhaps one day I’ll collect every letter and deliver them to you at once, or burn them. I haven’t decided yet. But one day, I will find the courage within me to say these words to your entrancing eyes and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish only for your happiness, for I’ve been stripped of it for so long. You do not deserve that. However, for now, I will keep to my dreams and hope that my passing glances and small acts of kindness do tell you everything I am incapable of voicing.


Elizabeth stared, mouth open in shock as she read and reread her sentences, absolutely stunned by his confession, wondering if there were other letters like the one twiddling between her fingers. For a second, she felt guilt overtake her conscious. Clearly, the letter hadn’t been intended for her eyes. But before she could have too much time to think about it, Ethel called her for her bath. She scarfed down a croissant from off the tray, and tucked the letter under her pillow before walking into the bathroom.

Needless to say, Forsythe had been anxious all morning.
Where was that letter? What if she found it? What if she read it?

He couldn’t imagine what she would think. She would hate him forever, end their friendship. Her mother would find it, and throw him out of the castle, he’d starve to death on the street and—

“Forsythe?” Her voice broke him out of his anxious trance.
“Oh, hi! Elizabeth, uh-I, h-how was breakfast?” He said, a stuttering mess.

 “Fine,” She said, inquisitively. He looked at her for a moment. Today, her blonde hair had been pinned into a loose updo, with two strands framing her face. She wore a pale pink, almost white satin gown, the color resembling the bed of roses by the gates that entered the castle grounds. They were the only way for someone from the village to enter the castle, and even so, the castle guards were extremely vigilant. The village!

Forsythe’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. He had an idea. Albeit a silly one, but he wanted to execute it anyway. She deserved a bit of fun.

 “You know what, go get your cape, and wear a less elaborate dress. You’re going to need it. We’re going outside today,” He said, beaming. Her jaw dropped, as her voice lowered to a whisper.

“You mean, outside-outside? Like, outside-the-castle-grounds outside?” Elizabeth’s voice strained. She couldn’t deny, she was nervous, but the feeling was soon nudged out by excitement and the prospect of rebellion made her feel almost powerful.

He nodded. “I have an idea, but you have to keep it quiet okay?” She nodded. This couldn’t possibly be a good idea, but she deserved a taste of freedom. A first and last taste of freedom. 

The village was so unlike the castle. So unlike the systematic perfection of the stately building she called home. Here, life seemed unpredictable. Exciting. Her time wasn’t measured out in her duties and was left to her will, to do as she please. What a lovely feeling.

 Elizabeth’s arm was linked with his as they walked through the street. Every couple of minutes, he’d ask her if she was doing well, or point out places he loved as a child. His eyes would light up, and she wondered if he’d always been so handsome. How hadn’t she seen it? The letter’s words chimed in her mind, still at the forefront of her very thoughts. Was he ever going to give it to me? Are there more like it? He did say “countless,” didn’t he?

“Elizabeth? Is everything alright?” He stopped along their way, turning to face her.

“Yes, I’m fine…” She was actually just astounded by the market stalls lining the streets, one full of flowers, another churning out fresh pastries, and countless small shops. Her heart dropped a little when she saw a weary couple and their two children walk out of a building with the door nailed shut, carrying heavy bags. She squinted to read the sign plastered to the door.

“Out of Business.” 

Their kingdom’s people were living in poverty. Slowly but surely, the Blossoms had been sucking out profit and livelihood from anyone who came in contact with them. Either they’d go into business with the family and lose out, or enter such vicious competition, invest all they had, and the Blossoms would still come out prosperous. And suddenly, the Blossoms had their eye on something that wasn’t money, but the throne.

“Hey, turn around,” He said, pointing to the castle.
“Forget about what’s up there. We’re here, alright? Don’t stress yourself about the Blossoms or getting married. Let’s enjoy what’s down here, and deal with that later.”

“You’re right,” She whispered. Had he always cared so much?

 Forsythe walked up to a stall selling flowers, picked a single rose for her from the bunch, and dropped to one knee, presenting it to her. She felt her cheeks heat up. He had noticed, but tried not to dwell on it.

“Your favorite,” He laughed to conceal his nervousness as her hand brushed against his to take it.
“Thank you,” She said, her eyes, lips, and very spirit all smiling at him all at once.

How did you know it was my favorite? She wondered as he got back up, brushing off his knee. She fiddled with the rose as her mind went back to the letter he’d written.

“Do not forget where a flower’s roots grow, under the earth and far from the light. That darkness is just as important to your life as the sunshine,” 

Her heart welled up, as she tried not to cry. He really did care about her, she thought. And he didn’t want anything in return. She didn’t have to be a pristine perfect princess or sit like the dolls that she and her sister had played with in their youth. Suddenly, an image of pure, blissful domesticity between the two of them emerged in her mind. Sure, the thought of them being married one day crossed her mind from time to time, married with beautiful children. But she pushed the thought away to dull false hopes.

She knew it was impossible. But now, she wanted it to be possible, to bend all realities and circumstances, and spend her whole life with him. His voice drew her out of her reverie.

“Do you hear that?” Forsythe asked.
“The singer?” Elizabeth asked. He nodded, looking left and right to locate its source.

The two walked arm-in-arm around the corner of a worn building, stopping in front of a beautiful young girl sitting on the ledge of the fountain in the square. Her voice was lovely but dripped with melancholy; the kind of voice that was suited to sad songs. A few people stood in front of her, smiling as she sang while others passed dropping a few coins into a metal tin at her feet. When the girl’s song had ended she got down to her knees and pulled five or six metal coins from the battered tin, then put them in a small pouch lying at her side.

“Should I be talking to people?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
“I don’t think there’s any danger in it,” Forsythe said with a small laugh. “Give her this.” He pulled a handful of coins from his own pocket.

Smiling, Elizabeth took a deep breath and walked up to the girl. The coins felt heavy in her hand.

“What a beautiful song,” she told the girl shyly.
“Thanks! My mother taught it to me,” the girl replied, standing back up.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. It was almost as though she was looking into her own reflection.
The two girls looked very much alike, they were similar in face and features. If not for their contrasting hair colors, they could have practically been twins. Elizabeth was known for her wavy blonde hair, but the girl in front of her had a head of long raven locks that looked a bit ratty.

Handing the money to the girl, she asked, “what is your name?” 

“My name is Veronica,” the girl answered with a smile. “What is yours?”
“My name is Elizabeth,” Elizabeth introduced herself.. “And this is Forsythe, he’s…”

What was he, really?

“A friend,” Forsythe filled in, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Hello.”

He reached out to shake hands with the singer and she nodded in greeting, shaking his hand rather uncomfortably. Her grip was too tight, and her nails a bit long, but he paid no mind to it.

“Right!” Elizabeth added.

“Elizabeth? You have the same name as the princess!” Veronica gushed, picking up her small satchel full of coins.
“Well….” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Well, she is the princess.” Forsythe said sarcastically, smiling at her as he put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin burned in a strangely pleasant fashion underneath his fingertips. “Um, Elizabeth, I think we need to go. Your mother is going to be looking for you soon.”

 “It was lovely meeting you. One day, I would love for you to sing at the palace. I’ll send someone for you,” Elizabeth chimed in.

“Really?” Veronica rolled her eyes, then laughed. She had to be kidding, right?

“Absolutely,” Elizabeth promised before the two began their walk back to the castle. “I hope to see you again soon, Veronica!” She called over her shoulder.

 “Oh my goodness, where is she?” Alice murmured, pacing the throne room with a delegate and another man standing before her. “She will  return soon.” She added, more so to calm her own worries than theirs.

The delegates had been in the castle for all of ten minutes, and Elizabeth’s absence was not making a positive impression. 

Forsythe and Elizabeth had just entered the palace when Elizabeth’s lady-in-waiting escorted them less-than-politely to the throne room, lecturing them about responsibility, authority and scolding them about leaving the castle grounds without permission the entire way.

Forsythe stood awkwardly at the back of the room while Elizabeth walked up to her mother. Alice’s eyes were full of spite and anger.

Good, Elizabeth thought. It’s only fair.

“Hello, sweetheart!” Alice greeted, her, teeth gritting. “Where have you been?” Her voice was a sickly sweet tone; fake and full of poison.

“I took her out for some fresh air, Your Highness,” Forsythe said, his voice rushed.

Alice always felt guilty reprimanding him, after his father had laid down his life for her own all those years ago. She owed her very life to his family, after all.
She cleared her throat and recollected her thoughts before speaking again, the sound painfully articulate. 

“Alright, well. Next time you must let someone know where you are going, is this clear?”
They both nodded.

“Elizabeth, I’d like to introduce you to King Archibald.”  

well, there you go! this is basically the last sweet fluffy chapter, because after this things are going to get a bit dark (more exciting for sure, but dark.) 
I really hope you guys like this, because I like writing it!

as always, reblogs are very very appreciated. please leave a comment with your thoughts!


I’ve been having art block with my comic today so I sketched it away by drawing these fools in capes.

anonymous asked:

Hyuk vampire au?? I can imagine him making so many vampire puns omfg

  • the most un-elegant vampire you’ve ever met in your life
  • like vampires are supposed to be mysterious and aloof and cold
  • hyuk??? no he’s a big giant memepire he’s like “hey im technically a vegetarian vampire so i can only suck the blood of cows who’ve been on an all grass feed diet!! geT IT BECAUSE IM A VEGETARIAN HAHAHA”
  • thinks the sleeping in coffins thing is stupid he’s like “first of all i might not be able to sleep but i enjoy a comfortable mattress thank you VEry Much!!!”
  • uses a toothpick to clean at his fangs while you’re trying to talk to him and you’re like jesus christ those are frightening and he’s like “yeah i know but my dentist says i gotta keep em clean.” and you’re like “……you see a dentist??” and hyuk’s like “yeah gosh vampires are humans too!!!!……..well no we’re not i see a vampire dentist listen it’s hard to explain.”
  • you found out about hyuk’s secret because he literally was like “im a vampire” on the first date after you meet him at like a shady club and you’re like “haha if you’re a vampire im a mermaid.” and he was like “WHAT SERIOUSLY” and you were like what no im joking aren’t you?? and hyuk was like no??? wanna see my fangs???
  • hakyeon was so mad when he found out hyuk told you so nonchalantly and hyuk with his arm around you was like “what, should i have waited until i got hungry and just bitten them to show them im a vampire??? gosh hyung you don’t know how relationships WORK.”
  • vampire hyuk dresses up as a vampire during halloween for the “irony” also because it’s the only night where he gets to wear a cape because he keeps arguing vampires should be allowed to wear capes like the used to and hakyeon is like: no
The purr-fect model

I wrote this today, thinking about Chat making noises and Adrien making those noises.  So here, have another fluffy and cute story


“Thanks for taking me up on my offer, Marinette.”  Adrien lounged in her chair, watching her scurry around the room.

“I uh yeah!” She stammered at him, wanting to hit her head against the wall until she could stop being so unstable around him.  “You modeling the clothes I’m making for the design contest?  Of course!”  She beamed at him with an armful of fabric.

“What was the theme?”  He asked her without changing his position much, “and will your dad bring us cookies again?” He did sit up a little at that hopeful question.

Marinette laughed.  “Yes he will, and this theme is superheroes. We have to make something inspired by our favorite hero.” Her smile softened as she thought of Chat Noir.  “And I know exactly who my favorite is.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward, “Who is your favorite?  Is it Ladybug?”

“No, no.  I like her a lot, but-”

“Ah, a fictional character then.” He nodded in what appeared to be self-congratulation, “So, spill the beans, do I get to wear a cape?”

“Nope,” She grinned cheekily at him.  “Chat Noir is my favorite.  I’ve made a mask and added ears on a top hat…” she trailed off at the inscrutable expression on his face.  “What?  I thought you liked Chat Noir?  You once asked me if I thought he was cool?”

“Well he is,” Adrien sounded unsure of his words, “But are you sure you want to model your work off of his suit?  There’s so many things you could have done with a Ladybug theme.  He’s cool, but she’s much more amazing.”

Marinette shook her head, “They’re a team.  I think they’re both equally amazing, though Chat has pulled her out of some really tough binds.”

Adrien stood up and started pacing, “Yeah well, she’s done the same to him.  She reminds him every time when his ring is about to,” he looked like he was going to say something and then changed his mind, “spill the beans.”

“You’re awful defensive of her,” Marinette said, setting the clothes on the bed, “Why is that?”

Adrien blushed to the tips of his ears and her heart made a funny flopping beat, “I’m… I’m in love with Ladybug,” He confessed.  “She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever seen, and I know that sounds silly for someone that I don’t know their real name,” He stopped and looked at her, “Isn’t it?”

Marinette swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she squared herself for this conversation.  “I don’t think it’s silly.  Really.  I also think the next time you see her, you should tell her how you feel.  After she’s done fighting.” Marinette laughed, “Her answer might surprise you and you never know til you try.” She took his hands in hers with a sudden surge of Ladybug’s bravery.  Then she heard a peculiar rhythmic cyclic noise, almost like a motor.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Adrien squeezed her hands and she felt that rumble in his hands and she stared up at him, aghast to realize he was purring.

She swallowed heavily and forced herself to look into those too green eyes and, “You’re purring.”  The words slipped out of her before she could stop herself.

The sound cut off abruptly and he stared at her in horror before he tried to bolt for the door.  She caught his arm and he stared back at her in half shock and half panic.

“It’s ok,” she said, “Its ok.”  She laughed and there was a bit of hysteria in it.  “They told us not to tell, but nothing against saying we couldn’t figure it out ourselves.”

When he stared at her without saying anything she thought she’d blown the whole thing and then she was in his arms and he was holding her like a drowning man to a life-raft. “I love you.” He breathed over her ear and she felt her knees go weak as that rumbling purr vibrated between them.

“I love you too,” She said into his. Then she laughed.  “Well, haven’t we been just a little bit silly.”

He pulled back, frowning slightly, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that you’ve been flirting with me as Chat and I’ve never even considered that you were serious because I’ve been trying to get you to pay attention to me as Adrien.” She giggled and hugged him close.

“Ah, yes,” he buried his face in her shoulder.  “Yes.  Definitely silly.”

Pyrruby Fanfic Ideas I'm Never Getting To

•AU where Pyrrha and Ruby have a Let’s Play channel
•Pyrrha meeting Ruby’s dad/Ruby meeting Pyrrha’s parent(s)
•Pyrrha and Ruby watch a fireworks show and Ruby says something cheesy
•Ruby trying to propose to Pyrrha but other ships’ shenanigans keep getting in the way
•Pyrrha wanting to propose to Ruby, but thinking her fame and reputation will pressure her into saying yes even if she isn’t ready
•Pyrruby wedding without chaos
•Pyrruby wedding where everything goes wrong
•Pyrrha and Ruby go on a hunt together
•Ruby talking to Yang about her and Pyrrha adopting a baby, but it turns out they’re just getting a puppy
•Ruby talking to Yang about her and Pyrrha adopting a baby, and it’s an actual baby
•First Anniversary (Dating or Married)
•One of them dies during a job and the other blames themselves
•One is dying of a terminal illness and the other is sad because they can’t do anything to stop it
•Pyrrha freaking out because Ruby hasn’t spoke to her all day, so she thinks she made her mad. But Ruby was just jinxed.
•Pyrrha getting caught wearing Ruby’s cape
•Anything remotely above pg13 for these two

Conversation tonight at the space-themed program I'm volunteering at

Girl (5 or so): Teacher! You’re a wizard! That’s a wizard cape!

Me, wearing the sparkly star cape I commissioned from a friend: You’re right, I am a wizard!

Girl: How come you get to wear a cape?

Me: Because when you’re a wizard, they let you wear whatever you want.

Girl: Cool. Can you tie my shoe?


one tree hill » Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly

“Quentin Fields was a basketball player. He was also a son, a brother, somebody’s teammate, somebody’s friend. I didn’t know Quentin Fields, and I guess now I never will. Did you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t you anymore? If you were suddenly gone, how would your world react? Whatever you imagined is wrong. There’s nothing romantic about death. Grief is like the ocean. It’s deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night.”

karkat being like “how sweet would it be if i had a cape” and dave making the incredible reference like “haha NO capes” and karkat doesnt get it so hes like “??? why cant i have a cape. why do you get to have a cape” “no dude it was a joke” “why do you get to wear a cape if i can’t. hand over your cape strider” “no i” “strider give me the FUCKING CAPE” “GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY CAPE”