he looks like he's dressed for a funeral

brendon urie is the type of guy to carve something very poorly out of soap like a bear and give it to sarah as an anniversary gift and she doesnt know what to do with it because its a bear carved out of soap but she cant just put it in the closet because brendons always watching the bear because he made it he is the creator of the bear and then one day sarahs washing dishes and she thinks its time for murder and drops the bear into the sink and brendon cries for 3 days straight and holds a tiny funeral for a lump of soap that used to vaguely look like a deformed bear and makes all of his friends come and the only person who isnt extremely confused is pete wentz because pete wentz dressed up as a teletubby once nothing stuns that guy

The jackets are pretty outlandish, but even then Dirk always seems so put together. Maybe it’s the ties. Definitely it’s the button down shirts. The most casual Todd’s ever seen him is when he rolls up his sleeves. He even manages to dress up Todd’s t-shirt, his yellow jacket making him look like he’s just stepped off the cover of a magazine. But that’s just Dirk. He’s polished in a way Todd’s not.

Imagine, then, Dirk shucking his jacket and collapsing onto Todd’s couch in just his Mexican Funeral t-shirt. Imagine Todd noticing his arms for the first time. Fixating on the slight curve of Dirk’s bicep where it disappears under his sleeve.

Imagine Todd becoming very flustered. Imagine Todd knowing exactly why he’s flustered.

This is the moment Todd knows he’s screwed.

Yoongi Scenario: In Heaven.

Request: Can you do me a Yoongi angst/fluf/sad where he kind of neglects you when he’s busy and you two started to drift apart and when you finally had enough, you get into an accident (where you die) and he regrets it (neglecting you) and a few weeks later, he wakes up and he time travelled to the past to change the future? It’s kind of based off of JYJ-In Heaven. xD

Genre: Angst / Romance.


You hadn’t seen the car coming, but then that day you weren’t really there, exhausted and drained you had gone out to see if by walking you could make your brain react. Yoongi had stood you up last night and he hadn’t called, your relationship was coming to a dead point that you didn’t know if you would be able to overcome, no matter how much you loved him. Because you did, you loved that man with such force and you suffered for him in equal measure. The impact was fatal even if it didn’t kill you on spot, everything stopped moving and then your eyes closed shut.

Every time Yoongi went to sleep he remembered that day, you had been surrounded by flowers with a pretty dress on, you had your eyes closed like you were sleeping, Yoongi had kept looking at you, begging you to wake up, but you wouldn’t. The day of your funeral had been a nightmare coming to life, and as Yoongi saw the casket being closed after the final goodbyes he thought he couldn’t even see you one last time, see you, awake, alive, with eyes that stared back at him, he thought that he had pushed you to that direction, and alone you had gone far away from him to a place he couldn’t reach you.

I’m leaving, I’ll come back soon so… No, I, you don’t know how much I love you, don’t you?… I love you.

You had left a message for him that day, Yoongi remembered it well, how would he ever forget? He had listened to the message the night of the accident after the doctors had declared you death, it had been ironic, if he had just picked up his phone, if he just had seen you. But he had had eyes only for his work and that important project of which he was taking part of. The project would impulse him to bigger success, that was his logic for always making you wait, for always putting you second, he thought after the project was done then he would take you out and sort things, he loved you and he wanted to be with you, but his career was going so fast, he thought everything else could wait, that you could wait.

But there was no one waiting for him anymore, there was no one sleeping by his side, waking up next to him, you weren’t there anymore and Yoongi couldn’t accept it. No matter how much time had passed already he couldn’t bring himself to put you behind, even if he had managed to go on with his life, without you everything seemed so empty. It drove him insane.

Yoongi tried to keep going, he thought about quitting his job since he couldn’t stop thinking that if it wasn’t for him being so engrossed on it then everything would have been different. But then it was the routine of work and how mechanical life was turning out to be that he had been able to at least get out of the house. People would stare at him, his neighbors, his friends, everyone knew what had happened, everyone pitied him, everyone murmured about how sad it had been. But Yoongi couldn’t care less about people, the only thing that really mattered was that day, and how he couldn’t do anything.

He lived his life in automatic, the routine guiding him through work and back home where he would crash exhausted thinking of you, of that day and listening to that voice mail over and over again. And then, the next day he’d repeat everything. He still had pictures of your scattered around, most of them you had arranged yourself in his place, you hadn’t moved together formally but you had spent more time in his house than in yours. 

Yoongi had put down the frame of the two of you that before was on his desk at plain sight, he felt like he couldn’t work if he had it there, the comforting feeling that brought him the one he had near his bed was totally different from the guilt he felt with this one. Sometimes it made him think that this had really been his fault, that he could have done much more and that in a way you had died because of him, sometimes it made him think that he should just put an end to his misery.

Keep reading

Draco; Moon Therapy

/Warning(s): Sadness everywhere!


“Talking to the Moon” ~ Bruno Mars


Disclaimer: There’s no lyrics to follow/Most of the lyrics are in italics.\


••••••••••


Draco sat by the window sill looking out at the moon, that was surrounded by glimmering stars. The War had ended and you were nowhere to be found. Draco was driven to insanity, people looked at him oddly when he started talking to himself. His family worried about him when he mentioned you and ‘talked to you’. He’s wondering where you are, at times he talks to the moon, thinking of you.


“Today I walked outside with my mother. She’s been talking about you, she’s saying I should let you go, but I can’t.” Draco stared at the bright, luminous stars; but to Draco’s eyes the moon stood out the most. “And I never will, Y/N, because I love you. I wanted to start a family with you. That one night that we made love to each other was majestic, I want to relive that, that was ten months ago. That was the last time I kissed your plump, pink lips and held you in my arms.” Draco felt tears prick the ends of his eyes. “I still don’t know why you left me.” Draco sighed, looking down at his lap.


“I know you’re somewhere out there.” Draco said. “And if you left me. Why did you not leave with an explanation.” Draco cried softly. Tears rolled down his cheeks, each tear held an emotion. Sadness, worry, and the best, love. “I love you. Goodnight.” Draco got up and went to his bedroom. The Manor made Draco’s emotions worsen, it was such a depressing and gloom color. Even though he enjoyed the colors during his childhood, he learned to enjoy the rather bright colors, the colors you loved.


The talking and the moon are his therapy. He thought it would help him. Yet, You were nothing compared to the outshining moon, you were all he had and he needed you.


I know you’re somewhere out there
Somewhere far away
I want you back, I want you back
My neighbors think I’m crazy
But they don’t understand
You’re all I have, you’re all I have


Draco stayed up all night reminiscing you and him, and kept thinking of the future you two could’ve had.


|Retrospect|


“Draco!” You laughed. “Say it! Say that I’m the most handsomest man in the world.” Draco smiled, tickling you were you were most ticklish. “OK, OK, Draco Malfoy is the most- stupidest person the world!” You breathed. “You little-” Draco went back to attacking you. “Draco Malfoy is the most handsomest man in the world.” You pant. Draco lets you go, you stand up and hop out of the couch. “Behind Harry Potter.” You joke running out of the Slytherin Common Room. Draco runs after you, you burst into fits of giggles, running as fast as you can.


Unfortunately, he caught you. “Gosh, what I do for you woman.” Draco pants. “I love you.” You blurt. “I love you too.” Draco leans forward, you flutter your eyes closed pushing yourself toward Draco. You waited for his lips to come in contact with yours. You opened your eyes to find Draco stifling a laugh. “Hey you big meanie! I was about to kiss you!” You pout. “I can only kiss you if you say, I’m the most handsomest man in the world.” Draco folds his arms. “Alright, my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, is the most handsomest, sexiest man in the world.” You wink at the end. “There we go, love.” Draco said, connecting his lips with yours. “I love you, so much.” You hug him. “I love you more.” Draco said, and you didn’t fight back to say you loved him more, because you couldn’t compete with his love.


|Retrospect End|


|Draco’s Thoughts|


I looked at you, you looked exhausted and tired, yet you wore a smile on your face. “What do you want to name him?” You asked. “What about Noah Hyperion Malfoy?” I asked you. “That’s perfect.” You weakly grin. “Here he comes.” The nurse said, holding a baby boy in a green blanket the one that I had been delivered in. “I want you to hold him.” You told me. The nurse heard and held him out for me to hold. I grabbed him and cradled him in my arms, I was scared, he was as pale as me, I could see his hair, the tufts of H/C were soft. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, they were my eyes, the color, the shape. I simply adored him.


“Hello Noah.” I cooed. I looked at you and smiled, “He’s so beautiful.” I said. I heard Noah whimper, I handed him to you. Unsure of what to do. “He’s getting hungry.” You said. You breastfeed Noah. “Is that painful?” I ask out of curiosity. “Not really, all you feel is a slight tug.” You replied. I looked at her with an all knowing look, the woman I love is the the mother of my child. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.


“Our family.” You whisper. “Our family.” I smile, intertwining your hand in mine.


|Draco’s Thoughts End|


At night when the stars light up my room
I sit by myself…


“Draco, are you alright?” His mother interrupted his thoughts. “Yes, mother.” Draco sighed. “Just checking in on you. How’s Y/N?” Narcissa asked. Draco’s eyes widen in surprise to what his mother asked. “I don’t know.” Draco said. “I hope she’s all right.” Narcissa softly grinned. “Me too.” Draco frowned. “Don’t get sad, Draco.” Narcissa said. “I won’t.” Draco replied. “Goodnight.” Narcissa said. “Goodnight.” Draco says.


It was a long night, Draco talked to the moon that he so ever loved, it reminded kept reminding him of you. Draco couldn’t get rid of the fact that you were out there without him. You were the best thing that occurred to him, and he can never forget that. He remembered that one time Rita Skeeter, asked him odd questions.


|Retrospect|


“So rumors have been spreading around of you, is that correct Draco Malfoy?“ Rita Skeeter asked. Draco was out in public with his mother by his side. “We have to go.” Narcissa said, tugging on Draco. “About what?” Draco asked. “Oh, you’ve haven’t heard, people are saying that you are going crazy, talking to yourself.” Rita said. “We have to go.” Narcissa pulled Draco away. Draco walked silently by his mother. ‘Was this really happening?’ Draco thought. He never knew this was the new chat in the Wizarding World, but then thought about it clearly. ‘Was I really talking to himself?’ Draco thinks for an answer. Yet doesn’t have one.


|Retrospect End|


I’m feeling like I’m famous, the talk of the town
They say I’ve gone mad
Yeah, I’ve gone mad
But they don’t know what I know
Cause when the sun goes down someone’s talking back
Yeah, they’re talking back, oh


Narcissa tried finding ways to help her son, yet in the end it turns out to be a failure. She can’t help, but give up. “There has to be something to help him.” Narcissa told Lucius. Who was in the cell at Azkaban. “Get him a wife. That girl is never going to come back to him.” Lucius said. Narcissa looked up, her eyes lit up, “I’ll see.” Was all she said, getting up. “Goodbye Lucius.” Narcissa grinned. “Goodbye love.” Lucius smiled back. “I love you.” Lucius managed to reply. His emotions for Narcissa stood strong despite the dementors’ attacks.


So Narcissa did trying to find the perfect girl, that’s until Narcissa found Astoria Greengrass. Narcissa visited Lucius again and told him about her choice. They both agreed on arranging the two, until Draco found out and became angered at his mother. “You knew mum! You know.” Draco breathed. Draco tried relaxing to a calming state, “I’ll never love her.” Draco stated. “Draco.. please.” Narcissa tried to get him with her, it was no use. “Leave.” Draco said. “But Dr-” “I said leave!” Draco growled, Narcissa flinched and went away. Draco broke down crying. “I’ll always love you, Y/N.” Draco chocked. The sky looked darker than usual and the stars have seemed to vanish.


Talking to the moon
Trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side talking to me too
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?


~*~


Draco’s eyes fluttered open, he scowled at the sun that blinded him. He laid by the Window still in the same position like last night. An owl then hooted, Draco looked at the owl that held a letter. Draco snatched the letter off the owl, he began to open the letter.


‘Hello Draco,


It’s Hermione Granger, I know you despise me, but don’t rip this letter, please, it was hard for me to right this letter. I can’t… write it again. Something has happened to Y/N, something that I can’t forgive myself for, she’s been killed, a death eater took her life. I’ve invited you to her funeral, she would’ve loved for you to come, Draco. It would be an honor to see you at her funeral. I’m sincerely sorry; she was my best friend and still is. I would’ve done anything to save her, but it was too late. I hate myself for the fact I could have saved her. Please come to her funeral.


Sincerely,
Hermione Granger’


Draco screamed, then sobbed, it was truly the end. After all this time. Narcissa rushed to his room, she hunched down beside him and looked at the clutches letter in his hands wrinkling. “Shh.” Narcissa cooed.


~*~


Draco dressed in all black, he hated the color now. Since it meant something stronger, it meant death. He kept a frown on his face, dried tears stained his cheeks as he made his way to the Cemetery; he saw Harry, Ginny, Luna, Ron and the others there, crying and grieving. Draco felt like he could no longer cry. That’s until he saw your pale, fragile body. You looked stunning, even when your were gone. Tears spilled his eyes like waterfalls. Harry went up to Draco, they smiled weakly at each other.


“I’m s-sorry.” Harry cried. Draco seemed to get over the fact that he couldn’t blame. He couldn’t blame Love. He couldn’t blame Harry, Hermione or the others. All he could do is stand and feel a certain emptiness take over. “Draco.” Hermione’s soft voice rung through his ears, he gazed upward and met Hermione carrying a baby.


Do you ever hear me calling?
(Ah) oh oh oh
(Ah) oh oh oh
‘Cause every night


I’m talking to the moon
Still trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side talking to me too
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?


“You had a child? Congratulations.” Draco said in a slightly cheerful voice trying to sound happy. “It’s not mine, it’s yours.” Hermione said, she motioned for Draco to hold the baby, who appeared to be a month old. “M-Mine?” Draco asked. He held the baby and upon further inspection, he saw her. He saw you. Your dazzling H/C hair pairing with his blue-grey eyes. “She sacrificed herself for him.” Hermione told Draco. “I could’ve saved her too.” Hermione fell onto her knees putting her face in her hands.


Ron ran to her and held her up, trying to steady Hermione. “His name is Noah. Noah Draco L/N~Malfoy.” Hermione said, wiping her tears away. “He was born June fifth. Y/N went away from Hogwarts to protect him, to protect you.” Hermione said. “I’m his godmother.” Hermione smiled, yet it faltered. “He looks like her doesn’t he.” Hermione pointed out. “He does.” Draco said.


Draco held onto Noah, knowing that a piece of you was still with him. It amazed him that after all this time he was talking to the moon, you were talking back.


I know you’re somewhere out there
Somewhere far away

Famous Last Words 2

-SNOWBAZ-

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Summary: When your family was a wreck and your perfect girlfriend just left you for your irritating classmate, the only way to carry on was to make a truce with the enemy, right?

OR

High school AU in which Simon and Baz pretend to be boyfriends to save Simon’s love life.

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Rating: T

Tags: High School AU, fake boyfriends, mutual pining, fluff, a little bit of angst

Also on AO3

Thanks to @eroticgropefest for being my amazing beta :)



Not often had Simon seen Penny speechless. His best friend was used to all kinds of situations, so she wasn’t easily surprised. But Simon was.

But now they were both clearly gobsmacked.

Simon heard Penny almost choking on her tea, before someone–probably Rhys–nudged him and brought his attention back to Baz.

Right. Baz.

“I– Uhm.” Simon stared in shock at the dark skinned boy standing in front of him. He looked at his dark boots, at his dark clothes, at his dark nails. At his dark hair. At his dark grey eyes. Everything about him was dark. “Yes,” he said finally. “I’ll go out with you.”

Keep reading

the foxes as shit i've said
  • <p> <b>neil:</b> my funeral is canceled<p/><b>andrew:</b> maim her<p/><b>kevin:</b> set me on fire please<p/><b>matt:</b> HELL YEAH I'M COOL WITH HUGS<p/><b>dan:</b> i'm not just the mom friend. i'm the wine mom friend.<p/><b>allison:</b> i get a venti because i'm not weak<p/><b>renee:</b> did u kno there's a pentagram emoji<p/><b>nicky:</b> i dress this way because how else will people know i'm gay?<p/><b>aaron:</b> he looks like he could do with a good bitchslap<p/><b>wymack:</b> nothing like a bomb threat before my morning coffee<p/><b>abby:</b> hello yes i am here to help<p/></p>
Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

So this angsty, evil monster fiction was inspired by a very heart-wrenching convo with  @stevemossington and @forfutureglory. We needed puppies afterwards, and you might, too. 


It’s been two weeks since she died. Two heavy-hearted weeks, during which he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t even breathe (or at least, he doesn’t remember breathing, anyway). He can’t taste. His fingers are numb, he can’t touch. His heart seems to have frozen in place and forgotten how to beat.

The basement, which he hasn’t dared enter since the night she left, is dark. Nancy is by his side, attired in a lace black dress which reaches her knees. She places her hand on his shoulder. “Mike? Are you…?”

“No. Yeah. I’m good. Totally good.”

She looks down at him with the same expression she’s been bearing for a while. It’s pity, mixed with some form of awe and admiration. “I’ll be here,” she whispers.

Mike nods. That’s enough for him just then. Her solidarity brings him some form of courage. So he takes a deep breath and begins his descent of the stairwell to the basement, his sister lingering a few steps behind. The light is on down below, and he can hear his friends muttering among themselves.

It doesn’t take much for his heart to break these days. Seeing them, though — that does it.

Keep reading

Tricks and Confessions

Merlin x Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff
Word Count: 1891
A/N: Yeah, I’ve definitely written better some time, but still, I love Merlin, I love Colin Morgan, and here’s your story love! Finally!
Request: Can you do a Merlinx Reader where the reader works in the castle and is really shy, and she likes Merlin so she tries to avoid him, but it’s hard because he is always just trying to talk to her because he likes her? Thanks Love ya

Originally posted by merlinsprat

“(Y/n)!”
You grabbed the bucket of laundry tighter and quickened your step.
“(Y/n), wait!”

Quickly you turned around the next corner, trying to escape the boy the well-known voice belonged to, but he must have run, for he had reached you shortly after, a wide grin on his face. 
Smiling back weakly you looked up at him. “Hey, Merlin.” 

Oh god, you just wanted to get away. 

After all you needed to do the laundry, then clean up the guest chambers, and then… you needed to continue avoiding Merlin. 

You weren’t sure how obvious your crush on him was, but you knew the longer time you’d spent with him, the more nervous you’d get, the more hopes you’d make yourself, and you just couldn’t afford that right now.
He maybe was a servant, just like you, but he was Prince Arthur’s personal manservant. You were the kind of girl that was basically responsible for everything, that no-one else wanted to do.

Literally. 
You had probably seen more dirty latrines than anyone ever needed to see in a lifetime.

Keep reading

The circumstances in which Anders changes his outfit always struck me as very unique from other LI. Others change because they’re in love (or at least in a love affair), it indicates hope and happiness. But with Anders, I always felt like it was the sign of him losing hope. Like he was dressing for his own funeral, knowing he will die right after his deed.

I like to imagine he had those robes stored for many years “for a special occasion”, got them all black because “old” Anders  just loved looking cool . And that day he realized there will never be a “special occasion” for him after what he’s about to do, and finally put them on. 

(Sorry for a grim picture, I got really inspired by Andrzej Wróblewski’s art).

Jughead & Reader: The Fight

Summary: Jughead and another guy from school get into a fight over you and you end up taking care of Jughead, realizing your feelings for him.

Length: 2,125


Jughead sat alone in the student lounge, tapping away on his laptop, writing every thought that came into his head. He had been working hard on his book, trying to detail every new piece of evidence that was uncovered either by the police or by his own handiwork.

His concentration was interrupted when the door opened and a flood of people entered. His eyes came across Scott, a guy who wasn’t really his friend but wasn’t a total stranger. The only reason he knew Scott and hung out with him on occasion was because of _____. She had been friends with Scott for awhile so sometimes Jughead had to talk to him when he would hang out with her.

Just thinking about her made a small smile appear on his lips. She was everything he wanted and everything he needed. Things weren’t so good with his home life or even at school, but she made all of that better. She made him feel like he wasn’t so weird or such a loner. What made that great feeling turn sour was the fact that Scott also liked her.

Jughead knew this from the first time he met Scott. He wasn’t that great at hiding it. But it wasn’t the little competition that made Jughead uneasy. It was the way he talked about her to his friends.

“_____ looked hot today,” he said to the group of guys who followed him into the lounge. “Everyday she gets hotter and hotter. I can’t handle it much longer.”

“Ask her out, dude!” One guy encouraged him. “Ask her to the dance and finally hook up with her. Then we won’t have to hear about it anymore.”

Scott threw a pen at his friend. “Don’t you think I’m trying? I’m going to ask her today.”

Keep reading

five stages of grief

Title: Grief Has Many Names
Fandom: Servamp
Characters: Kuro and his siblings (including Tsubaki), Sakuya, Koyuki, and Mahiru.
Summary: Moving on takes time and patience, and some gentle nudging in the right direction.
Warnings: Major Character Death, suicide mention, alcohol mention.
Notes: I was going to have this up earlier, but something came up ;; My apologies for the delay and here’s the full-length story. Also, warning - it’s a long one. By the way, this was heavily inspired by P.S. I Love You, thanks to some devious minxes that put this idea in my head. (And kudos to anyone who recognizes the new contract item at the end.)

Keep reading

my grandma's thoughts on musical characters
  • elphaba thropp: "oh my god... she's GREEN. why is she GREEN? is she sick?"
  • maria reynolds: "she looks like she came from a really rich, high quality strip club"
  • evan hansen: "his arm is broken and he looks like his emotions are broken too"
  • katherine pulitzer: "i wish i looked like her"
  • connor murphy: "why is he dressed in all black? is he going to a funeral?"
  • carrie white: "jeez, what's up with all the blood? did someone murder her?"
  • heather chandler: "oh she's really pretty! is she nice?"
  • jason dean: "is he friends with connor? are they going to the funeral together? is it the bloody girl's funeral?"
  • jared kleinman: "he looks like a nerd and i don't like him"
  • galinda upland: "why the hell is her dress so big? how does she even walk?"
  • margaret white: "...she looks scary. i don't trust her"
  • heather duke: "didn't you just show me heather? oh. this is a different heather. she looks mean"
  • alexander hamilton: "wait there's a musical about that dude? why?"
  • natasha rostova: "i like her. she looks happy"
  • lizzie borden: "that's supposed to be lizzie borden? why's she wearing leather? that's... interesting"
  • zoe murphy: "she looks like the bloody girl, except she's happy and not bloody now"
  • sonny de la vega: "he looks like a nice young man"
  • jack kelly: "he looks like he got beat up. is he okay?"
  • crutchie morris: "he looks like the the kid with the broken arm but this time his leg is broken and his emotions are stable"
  • heather macnamara: "she's pretty but why are there so many girls named heather"
  • hedwig robinson: "that's... that's a lot of makeup. wow"
  • amélie poulain: "she looks like the natasha girl except she's red and has shorter hair"
  • elizabeth schuyler: "she looks like natasha too!"
  • david jacobs: "he looks nice. is he dating the kid with the broken arm? they'd be cute together"
  • ram sweeney: "he looks like my high school boyfriend. i hated my high school boyfriend"
  • peggy schuyler: "does she work at the fancy strip club too?"
  • jeremy heere: "he... he looks like his childhood was rough. i don't know why"
  • wendla bergmann: "is she dating the bloody girl? they look like they'd be dating"
  • heidi hansen: "she looks stressed out. someone help her"
  • cosette: "she looks nice but she also looks like she needs help"
Red

stydia au, angst.
4,779 words. 



She wishes it didn’t happen like this, but it did, and it has, and there’s nothing she can do to change it now.

“In another world,” he whispers into her hair, words spilling over her temple and brushing her eyes shut, “in another universe, with a different you and a different me, we would have been together.”

In this life, though, her entire existence has been racing towards this point.

And there’s no changing it now.




His name is Stiles Stilinski, which is probably the weirdest name she’s ever heard in her life, but somehow it suits him.

They’re in the third grade and he’s moved into the house behind hers, and as she’s swinging in her backyard he climbs the tree overhanging their shared fence. His jeans are too baggy and he tears his shirt on a branch and doesn’t even seem to notice.

“What’s your name?” he asks, perched above her.

She kicks harder so that she can swing to his eye level. “Lydia.” Kick, swing. “Lydia Martin.”

“Lydia Martin,” he repeats, tasting her name on his tongue. “That’s a nice name.”

“Better than Stiles,” she says smugly, testing him.

Keep reading

#124 - For Hunter

Filling the prompt “Can u maybe do one based on the song achie,marry me by alvvays? It’s very cute, maybe like Van writes the song about "archie”, about how she doesn’t want to get married just yet. He adores her so much?“

Note: So, for the sake of meeting the prompt, we’re going to pretend that Alvvays did not write Archie, Marry Me.


It was almost 9:00pm and you’d not left the house since… since when was it? Maybe the day before, in the morning? You ran across the road for milk. Or, was that the day before that… You went to the markets at some point. Fuck. How long had you been inside? Rolling over in bed, you watched Van sleep. His freckles were fading without the sunlight to keep them dark. Frowning, you let yourself mourn for them for a moment. Then, you poked him in the ribs. He moaned and pushed your hand away. He stretched out under the blanket.

"Van, when did we last go anywhere?” you whispered. He shrugged, not opening his eyes. Looking over at the alarm clock next to the bed, you sat up straight in shock. “Van! It’s like, late! I thought it was dark because it was still early morning! What the fuck,” you got out of bed and walked to the window. Yep. Definitely night time. “What day is it?” You could hear him chuckle. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. You moved to sit on him, straddling his hips. He held both hands up and you leaned your weight onto his arms, fingers tangled.

“Don’t know,”

“We could have been in here for a week,”

“So?”

“So?! It’s not healthy. Come on. Get up. We’ll shower and go out for dinner. See what the guys are up to, yeah?”

He shrugged again, and you undressed next to the bed, forcing him awake. He followed you into the bathroom and undressed too. In the shower you washed each other’s hair and kissed hard.

Keep reading

things i suddenly want: a fic that’s just an opinionated blogger unwittingly blogging their way through the skating seasons

——

“shall we NEVER DO THIS AGAIN”

i know everyone and their dog is talking about plisetsky’s gpf performance – it was fine, he was overscored, but what else is new – but man, let’s talk about chulanont’s sp for a minute.

so we all know chulanont really, really likes that movie, which is hilarious to me because i actually watched the king and the skater way back when brown/becks did their free dance to “shall we skate” in ‘96, and it is such a mess. the plot isn’t so much a plot as an excuse for glittery costumes and magical skating choreography, which, FAIR, but honestly brown/becks did more in four minutes to skate something coherent than that movie did in two hours.

look, i love that program, everyone i’ve ever talked to knows that i love that program, but i can never forgive brown/becks for remembering this movie existed and thereby consigning me to sit through increasingly terrible renditions of “shall we skate” every season since. it’s like every uninspired junior and senior looks at it and thinks, “oh, well, if it’s got the word ‘skate’ in the name.” NO. BAD SKATER. PUT THE CD DOWN. (remember when lund did it in ‘14? i actually hope you don’t, because it was just so terrible. he looked like he was going clubbing after a funeral so he DRESSED FOR BOTH.)

so i was like “oh god not again” when chulanont said he was gonna be skating to it this season, and really pleasantly surprised when i watched his cup of china performance and loved it. man. there’s so much energy there. in the movie there’s a scene where arthur and the king are literally skating on clouds (i mean. of course there is) and chulanont fucking nailed it, it was beautiful.

his performance at gpf was better, honestly, he was criminally underscored – so was katsuki, like, which judge is leroy fucking because that’s the only way any of this makes sense to me – and now that i’ve seen it i’m gonna have to plead that nobody skate to “shall we skate” EVER AGAIN. seriously, it’s just gonna be embarrassing, the comparisons to chulanont’s performance will be swift and unflattering, it’s time to give the song a rest. remember when nikiforov did the theme from romeo and juliet and set like seven different records and then everybody kind of stayed away from that for a few years? that.

or at least make them watch the movie first, that’d be a sufficient deterrent all on its own.

The Power’s That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be


CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Eighteen

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

Alexia stared at the dress in front of her. “They cannot be serious.” A dress, she could not remember wearing one in recent memory. Even for her mother’s funeral, she had worn pants. And of all the kinds; a large, heavy and uncomfortable looking one.

“We can assist you with it if you would like?” A maid smiled.

It was difficult, but Alexia kept her mouth closed, the girl was simply trying to assist her, but of course, she needed assistance with it, it was a corset style that needed to be tied from the back. She nodded instead and the maid came over smiling and began to prepare her for dressing.

Keep reading

Cineres cineribus, pulverem pulveri

Notes: Plot bunny from @sapphiresassenach. But please don’t go after her with pitchforks, she’s lovely.

———-

The smallest details now sprang to life in his vision - in his memory.

The whorl in the grain of the strong, wide planks of the floor in the sitting room - planks he had hewn with his own hands, from trees he had carefully selected. The foundation for the new Big House, perched high on the Ridge as the proud manor house it was.

The tiny freckle on the underside of Claire’s right breast - which he had discovered one lazy afternoon at Leoch, in the first weeks of their marriage. And which his tongue always tried to find most mornings, with the blissful, win-win challenge of doing so without waking Claire up.

Mandy’s corkscrew curls as she sat ramrod straight, chin bravely turned up, resplendent in her blue homespun, a heartbreaker at the age of sixteen. Holding tight to Jem’s hand on one side and Brianna’s on the other, their twin red heads bent in prayer.

The secret spiderweb veins on the inside of Claire’s ankles - one from each of her pregnancies.

The black crepe armband on Fergus’ coat - and the filthy jacket he’d worn that fateful first day at Madame Elise’s, crusted with food and cheap perfume and what must have been vomit.

Claire’s whisky eyes, swimming with tears, as she caressed his face while the life drifted from her body.

“*Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine,*” Roger chanted in the unfamiliar Latin, voice thick with emotion, hands quivering as he held the thick prayer book. “*Cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es.*”

It was the small things that were keeping him alive - now that the woman who for forty-five years was the blood in his veins, the marrow in his bones, the breath in his lungs, was - gone.

She was gone. There was no more Claire.

Something that looked like Claire lay in the coffin he’d crafted for her, nestled between blankets and pillows to be comfortable for her final journey. Jamie had dressed her, washed her face, kept her hair all wild - the only thing about her that was still alive. He had refused any help, once Denny Hunter had confirmed that the sickness in Claire’s body - the sickness she had so bravely fought for two years - had finally won.

He wanted to crawl into the coffin beside her, and never wake up.

“*Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis*.”

He didn’t want a large funeral - Claire certainly wouldn’t have wanted one. So it was just family - Roger and Brianna and Jem and Mandy; Jenny; Fergus and Marsali and their bairns; Ian and Rachel and their tribe of young Murrays. Fanny. And William.

Idly he twisted Claire’s wedding ring around his pinky finger. He had given Frank Randall’s gold ring to Brianna - she was the only one with a tie to it, now. But his wee silver ring, the one he had bought with almost all the money he had, that fateful night when he and Claire had truly pledged themselves to each other - feeling the grooves of it cut into his flesh was the only way he could still feel her touch on him.

It reminded him of being underwater - the light still shone through the surface, but shapes were indistinct. Sounds were audible, but faint. But it was only the person who was underwater who had to live through the distortions - not the people swimming with their heads above the water. Not the people safely on the banks, or the shore.

So it was now, surrounded by those he loved most dearly in all the world. Their voices were like the buzzing of bees. Their soothing touches held no warmth. The food they fed him turned to ash in his mouth. Their kind words were met with a faint nod.

“*Cum Sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es.*”

Roger was no Catholic priest - but he trusted nobody else with such a sacred duty. The son of his house, the son of his heart.

Jamie watched his family kneel in prayer, heads bowed, grasping each other’s hands tight.

For once in his life he decided to do something for himself.

He slowly rose to his feet, kissed his wife’s cold forehead, and softly padded upstairs.

—–

He didn’t even bother removing his boots - just buried his face in Claire’s pillow, breathing her in.

Inhale, and exhale.

In, and out.

Was this purgatory, then? For all his sins? Was this his sentence - living a life without her?

There was no life without her.

In, and out.

He couldn’t be strong anymore. For where was his source of strength?

In, and out.

Then - stillness of mind and body.

Calm. Warm, comforting calm. Like the waters in that hot spring, a thousand lifetimes ago in France.

No noise - no light. But not frightening - soothing.

He was alone - but was he?

Then the scent of sweat and mud and damp wool and a peat fire.

Scotland?

He opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - and blinked.

Rupert. Angus. Huddled by the fire in a small, borrowed cottage where they waited out the daylight.

Pain throbbing through his shoulder.

The low hum of Dougal’s voice, the firelight glowing in the sheen of sweat on his bare forehead as he discussed the next day’s plans with that man with the greasy beard whose name he could never quite remember.

His heart raced, heedless of the pain. He glanced down at his right hand - and flexed its five fingers into a fist.

Holy God.

Adrenaline surged as the door flew open - and Murtagh dragged a bedraggled Claire Beauchamp into the cabin, her filthy shift swirling around her knees.

His heart called out to her.

She turned to the fire - wide eyes blinking in disbelief - and the ecstatic smile on her face matched his own.

4.19: Schrodinger’s brother. He’s dead and alive. sort of. At least, until Dean opens his box… er, coffin.

Oh, Adam, we hardly knew ye. Or really didn’t know you at all. Just a ghoul who killed you, ate you, and impersonated you.

Yes, this is a Dabb episode. No, the other two episodes with Adam (5.18 and 5.22) are not.

(I’ve heard people STILL wondering where Adam is, thinking Dabb might bring him back since he was his original character. I think he’s more like Gavin, in that Dabb always intended him to stay dead– He’d been promised a one-way trip to heaven for saying yes to Michael, and I’m pretty sure the second he said yes, that’s exactly where he went. At least, that’s how I’d imagine it if I were Dabb. Which I’m not. But really, there is NOTHING interesting enough about him to bring him back. He was literally a plot device.)

(Dean crawling through the ductwork is always entertaining though.)

Dean spends most of the episode not wanting to let Adam get involved in hunting, hiding the truth in order to protect him. Sam wanted to tell him the truth… in order to protect him and…

SAM: I know what Dean said.
SAM holds the unloaded gun out to ADAM.
SAM: And I know what it’s like to want revenge.

Aah, revenge. Part of the reason Sam’s still gung ho to kill Lilith…

(Yet another instance of Dean storming out in a huff and then working the case on his own, not going and getting drunk– I mean slowly sipping one beer while interviewing a witness isn’t getting drunk)

But really, I can understand why John would keep Adam secret from Sam and Dean, and vice versa.

Thing is, Adam isn’t even Adam here. It’s already too late for Sam and Dean to know him. We get only one episode (5.18) with Actual Adam, and he’s not best pleased to meet his brothers. 

This episode is all about revenge. Sam and Dean show up thinking it’s Adam who wants revenge for the death of his mother, but it turns out it’s a monster who was trying to lure John Winchester to town:

SAM: All right, so, we don’t know what it is, but we do know who it’s going after. Joe Barton, Adam’s mom—
DEAN: And Adam. It was under his truck, just waiting for him.
SAM: It set a trap, and I walked right into it.
DEAN: Doesn’t matter. You’re right—there’s a pattern. Joe Barton was a cop. I’m pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we’ve got him, Dad’s girl, and his son.
SAM: All the people Dad knew in town.
DEAN: At least we know why it’s back.
ADAM: It wants revenge.

But John is dead. It’s too late for the monster to get revenge on HIM, so it falls to Sam and Dean.

(and heck if this isn’t a similar theme to another Dabb episode, 6.13, where the monster similarly tried to lure Sam back to town for revenge… but Sam didn’t remember anything from his time without his soul and so was unable to understand the clues the monster was leaving for him. Like the ghouls were killing people in the town who John had worked with on that original hunt, but John wasn’t alive to notice the pattern and suspect something, so the ghoul had to improvise. Same with the arachne in 6.13, who’d also been presumed dead– by Sam’s hand– but had actually been turned into one of the monsters. Meanwhile more innocent people died, OKAY ENOUGH WITH THE GIANT SPIDERS BECAUSE EWWWWWW)

Meanwhile Sam’s drunk the kool aid HARD here:

SAM: Being a hunter isn’t a job, Adam. It’s life. You’re pre-med. You got a girlfriend, friends?
ADAM nods.
SAM: Not anymore you don’t. If you’re really gonna do this, you can’t have those kinds of connections, ever. They’re weaknesses. You’ll just put those people in danger, get them killed.
DEAN, across the room, looks away.
SAM: That’s the price we pay. You cut ‘em out, and you don’t look back. There’s only one thing you can count on. Family.

Dean pulls Sam aside and accuses Sam of sounding exactly like John, for all the reasons Sam was angry with John for saying the exact same stuff to him– about how they had to be ready for the things that were gonna come after them.

SAM: Dean…all this…it’s not real. The dad Adam knew—he wasn’t real. The things out there in the shadows—they are real. The world is coming to an end. That’s real. Everything else is just part of the crap people tell themselves to get through the day.
DEAN: Dad didn’t have a choice with us, okay? But with Adam, he did. Adam doesn’t have to be cursed.
SAM: He’s a Winchester. He’s already cursed.
DEAN: No. No, whatever’s hunting Adam, I’m gonna find it.

Dean is freaking DETERMINED not to fail on John’s “orders” regarding Adam, the way he feels he did with Sam. John wanted to keep Adam out of it, let him have a “normal life.” By the time he learned the truth, it was too late to keep Dean out of it, but he’d also tried to keep Sam out of it as long as he could. 

But Dean goes back to the mausoleum where the ghouls were holed up and finds out it’s already too late to save Adam, and now he needs to escape from the tomb in order to save Sam…

There’s also a lot of “who’s the real monster” in here. That being a monster isn’t about what you are, but what you do.

SAM: You’re monsters.
ADAM’: You know, you use that word a lot, Sam.
ADAM’: But I don’t think you know what it means.
'KATE’ looks up from drinking Sam’s blood
KATE’: His blood, it tastes different.
ADAM’: Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Sam. Living, anyway.
KATE’: No. He was no monster. But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.

What is family, who’s the real monster, and revenge:

ADAM’: Revenge—it’s never over, is it, Sam?

And also, as Sam and Dean hold a hunter’s funeral for Adam:

DEAN: Adam was our brother. He died like a hunter. He deserves to go out like one.
SAM: Maybe we can bring him back. Get a hold of Cas, call in a favor.
DEAN: No, Adam’s in a better place.

Despite his conversation with Tessa in 4.15, Dean still believes that’s the truth. (and hey, Cas gets a mention :)

DEAN: You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person.
SAM looks over.
DEAN: I mean, I worshiped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. And I see that now.
SAM: I’ll take that as a compliment.
DEAN: You take it any way you want.

(Dean didn’t mean it as a compliment, nor not as a compliment. It’s just the truth. Sam’s got that ruthless practicality. It’s just a fact.)

So, ghouls don’t typically bother the living, and yet John had hunted one back in the day, which led to him meeting Adam’s mother.They live in graveyards feasting off the dead. I can’t even imagine why anyone would bother trying to hunt them, unless they started killing the living or otherwise stirred up trouble.

It’s implied that the ghoul John had hunted had merely gotten sloppy, and made its activity known to them, made its grave robberies too obvious to ignore. So enter John Winchester…

And the ghoul’s children wanted revenge for their father’s death, revenge against the monster who killed him… John Winchester had stirred this drive for revenge in them. Much like Crowley’s monster capture/torture plans in s6 stirred the drive for revenge and self defense in the monsters. And much like we’re seeing again in s12 as a result of the BMoL’s genocide plan. They disrupted the balance, violated the unwritten rule that Sam mentioned to the Alpha Vamp in 12.14. Much like the werewolf in 12.16 told Claire.

The monsters largely accepted the balance between them and hunters, letting hunters cull the rogues while largely trying to go through life unnoticed. The sudden unwarranted slaughter of entire GROUPS of monsters is what’s driving the monsters to panic, to act in rash ways that they never would’ve considered before their existence had been threatened.

The vampires organized themselves enough to make an attack on the MoL, and partially succeeded (if Sam hadn’t been there, they absolutely WOULD’VE succeeded).

Because hubris is bad. And the MoL have made themselves into the monsters.

multiverse theory

listen. this might not make sense. i’m very tired. i just had a thought and i wrote it down and here you go

alternative title: The Universe Where Everyone Is Happy And Nobody Dies (no, not even eddie)


There is a world where Lenore never met Guy De Vere.

The idea makes her throat feel thick and her nonexistent skin feel prickly and it’s true, but it’s wrong, somehow. Even after everything, she’s not sure she likes the idea of a Lenore without Guy.

So, scratch that.

There is a world where Lenore met H.G. Wells first.

Keep reading

Bottled Happiness (00q)

Bottled Happiness

Q curiously observed the small glass bottle stoppered with a wonderfully wrought cap of brass on which a happily waving mermaid was etched amidst rolling waves and pointy starfishes; 007 must have had stealthily left it on his cluttered desk while Q was berating him for once again not returning a single functioning piece of equipment - a quiet apology or an abortive attempt at corruption? With a manipulative person such as James Bond it was impossible to tell.

Keep reading