he-really-needs-a-name

I noticed something about the way Betty handled Jughead being upset and hurt about everything in this episode that I really admired. For one, I could tell that she wanted to scoot closer to him when they found him in the booth at Pop’s - but she kept her distance. I could tell that she wanted to run up to him and comfort him when he got slapped by Cheryl in the cafeteria - but she was calm, yet still concerned, and let him deal with that on his own until she could meet him outside the office and even then she still kept her distance. I could tell she wanted nothing more than to fix things with him the whole episode, but instead she did everything in her power to prove that his father wasn’t a murderer. That speaks louder to me than any grand gesture or kiss because it showed that she knew what Jughead really needed and at the moment, what he really needed was for his father’s name to be cleared and for someone to show him that he wasn’t alone through it all. And in the end, I think Betty did that in a beautiful way and I’m so happy for it. 

Misplaced Emotions

Summary: Dan Howell is a vampire who’s lost his humanity, and all he wants is to fuck Phil Lester, who just so happens to be a vampire hunter.

TW: a million cuss words. casual mention of blood and death and sex and a (very calm/non descriptive) murder takes place bc dan’s a vampire and he be hungryyy

Word Count: 3k

here’s my halloween fic! I hope you like it ^__^

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Baby Steps [Yixing]

ADMIN NOTE: “Baby Steps” is a series of one shots that were created by admin L and I on our previous tumblr account. We’re just reposting them on here because we’re getting rid of our old account lol

cred. to admin l

Originally posted by parkchny

genre: fluffy daddy yixing aw

word count: 1363

pairing: yixing & reader

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Finding Honey

“Whatcha got there, Cas?” Six-year-old Dean Winchester called out as he ran into his best friend’s backyard. He raced over and plopped down roughly next to dark-haired boy, not caring about grass stains on his jeans.

Castiel looked up from his crouched and hunched over position. He reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand and just squeezed without looking up. Dean knew that Cas was excited. He didn’t shout like any boy their age normally would in excitement. Mary, Dean’s mom, said it was because Cas came from a “conservative” family. Whatever that meant.

“Dean, shhhh!” Cas finally turned his bright blue eyes to Dean’s green ones. Mary liked to say the boys were like the earth and the sky meeting. Mary, Dean had decided long ago, said some pretty weird things.

 “Look!” He whispered, pointing to something hidden in the grass.

Dean leaned over and peered down. He spotted a tiny baby bird, featherless and sort of weird in a fascinating kind of way. He gasped. “Cas! Whoa! Can I touch it?” He tried to wiggle his hand out of Cas’ grasp, but the boy held on tighter.

“Dean, no! We can’t touch the bird. Just in case the mama bird comes back.”

 Dean grumped. He wanted to touch the baby bird that was currently making soft sounds of distress. He bet not a single kid at school touched one. “So, what? We wait here?”

Cas cocked his head. It was his thinking posture, Dean knew. “I don’t know. I waited for a while, but she doesn’t seem to be coming back. And the nest is way up there!” He pointed to the top of the oak tree that hung over the boys.

It was a tall tree. Dean’s dad, John, wasn’t even half its height. “Well, let’s go ask your mom. She’ll know what to do.”

Dean pulled on Cas, who wouldn’t budge. “No, Dean! I can’t leave it. Twitches might come and eat it. I have to protect it.” He titled his head again for a moment before grasping Dean’s hand with both of his now. “I know! I’ll stay here and watch over it, and you go home and ask your mom. She’ll know what to do, too!”

 Dean grinned. “Yeah. I’ll go. Can’t let your crazy cat eat a poor bird.” He laughed loudly when Cas scowled at his insult. Cas loved his cat. Even if the cat was a jerk sometimes.

 Dean left, promising to return. He ran back home and told his mom. Unsure of what to do, she called up her mom and asked. Dean waited and waited as his mom nodded and wrote down things as she spoke to his grandma over the phone.

 After the conversation, Mary went around the house grabbing a few things and making sure that Sam, Dean’s baby brother, was still napping before taking Dean’s hand to go over to Cas’ place.

 “Hello, Mrs. Winchester,” Castiel greeted when she and Dean walked into the yard.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she bent down and kissed his head. Cas and Dean had grown up together and Mary treated Cas just like he was her son, too. Dean was sort of like that with Cas’ mom Naomi, but she wasn’t the type to call kids “sweetheart.”

“Mom says that we’ll take care of the bird until it learns how to fly back to its nest,” Dean announced when Mary worked around moving the bird.

Cas’ eyes gleamed. “Really? We get to take care of it?”

“Yup,” Dean enunciated the last letter. “We’ll be its parents. Mom said so.”

Cas stood up, reaching for Dean’s hand. Dean could practically feel him vibrate from anticipation.

“It’s a lot of work, so you boys better prepare yourselves,” Mary warned as she placed the bird gently into the towel-laden shoebox.

 “We’ll take good care of it, mom,” Dean promised, swinging Cas’ arm.

“Okay, here,” Mom gently laid the box in Castiel’s arms. “Why don’t you boys head on over to our place and I’ll go let Naomi know. Make sure to be quiet when you go in; Sam’s still sleeping.”

Castiel looked up brightly at Mary and nodded. “We will, Mrs. Winchester. Come on, Dean.” He carefully took his first few steps, making sure not to jostle the baby bird. 

Dean walked slowly beside him, too. Just in case Cas fell down. He didn’t want him or the bird to get hurt.

As they walked, Dean laughed, gleefully. “Cas, we’re parents! That’s so cool. The other kids are going to be so jealous. I’m going to be the best dad ever!”

Cas smiled slightly. “What if I wanted to be the dad?” He questioned, making sure to walk very steadily. Dean paused, causing Cas to stop as well. “Dean?”

 Dean could feel his cheeks warm up. He bet his freckles stood out against the red. His mom always pointed them out whenever he got embarrassed. “I mean…yeah, I guess you could be the dad if you want. You did find the bird first. It’s only fair.”

Castiel giggled. “I was joking, Dean. You can be our bird’s father. Besides, I kind of already feel like the bird’s mama after watching after it for so long.”

 Dean grinned. “Okay. You’re mama and I’m dad.” He looked into the box, “We should probably figure out if it’s a boy or a girl and give it a name.”

The boys considered one another. Both not knowing how to check out the bird.

Dean spoke up again, “I guess we can give it a boy and girl name. Like ‘Cody.’”

“I’m not naming our bird ‘Cody,’ Dean,” Cas firmly stated.

 “It was just an example, Cas. Or something like ‘Twitches.’”

The brown-haired boy smiled sheepishly at the blonde. “Oh. What do you have in mind?” He started walking again.

Dean thought hard. Naming their bird was something special. He needed a really good name. Since the bird belonged to him and Cas, he needed to think about things that they both liked. He kept thinking, even as he opened the door to his house.

Cas liked bees and he liked pie. That and his dad’s car. It was so rad. All long and black. His dad promised him one day that car was his. Dean shook his head; he was supposed to be thinking of names. He couldn’t think of anything in common between the two.

“Hi, sweethearts. Everything okay so far?” Mary whispered as she stuck her head into the kitchen where Cas had settled the box on the breakfast table. Dean nodded. “Okay, I’ll be down in a bit, I just want to check on Sammy.”

Sweet! Bees make honey and pies are sugary! “Let’s call the bird ‘Honey,’” Dean decided.

“Honey? Why?” Cas questioned.

“Look, my mom calls us ‘sweethearts.’ You like bees which make honey and I like pies which are sweet as honey! There’s a little bit of both of us in the name!” Dean pointed out.

Cas giggled again. “I like it.”

“Then why are you laughing?” Dean asked.

Cas leaned over the box, “Because your mom is right in calling you ‘sweetheart.’ You’re the sweetest boy I know to think of something like that.” He promptly pecked Dean’s cheek which caused Dean to turn tomato-red again.

“It’s just a name,” Dean muttered, embarrassed by Cas’ words.

Cas smiled into the box. “Hello, Honey. Didn’t your daddy give you a wonderful name? It suits you perfectly. Me and daddy are going to take care of you. We’re going to be a family.”

 Dean grinned at Cas and looked down at the bird. “You have an awesome mama. We’re going to have so much fun. I promise.” He listened as the bird made small chirp-like sounds that weren’t full out chirps.

“I think our bird is hungry,” Cas stated. It’d been a while since it ate. “We have to feed it soon.”

Dean hopped down from his chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll get mom to come help us. You stay and watch our baby.” He looked at Cas for a couple of seconds before kissing Cas’ cheek.

Cas blushed. “What was that for?”

“That’s what my dad does when he leaves for work. He kisses my mom before leaving. Now that we’re parents, we’re probably married, too.”

Cas turned an even darker shade of red. “I guess so. My mom and dad are married, too.”

“Okay, awesome. I’m going to go get mom so Honey can be fed. 

“All right, dear.” Cas blinked slowly. “I heard your mom call your dad that.”

Dean nodded. He knew. “And he calls her ‘baby.’ I guess I’ll call you that, too.” He stood up straight. “I’ll be back in a bit, baby.”

Cas giggled. “Okay, dear.”

Dean laughed, before running off to get his mom. He couldn’t believe he started a family with Cas. He felt good. He really liked it.  


—–

The story takes place in the 80s, which is why they have a traditional mindset of what a family is.

Kitten

(Drive Drabble #5)

Author: Mikala
Characters: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 620
Warnings: Maybe like a swear word somewhere but that’s it
Author’s Note: Here’s the fifth fic for my “Drive” Drabble week! The prompt @bovaria provided for me was “He’s spoiled rotten.” Come back every day this week around 4pm (EST) for a new car-related drabble!
Previous Drabbles: (#1) (#2) (#3) (#4)

“What do you think we should name him?”

Natasha hummed indifferently at your question, keeping her eyes on the road. The afternoon sunlight hit her red hair just perfectly, making it glow. You were glad that she was driving; it meant that you could stare at her without worrying about accidentally wrecking the car. Plus, being in the passenger seat meant that you could hold the cat.  

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ask-tigrex  asked:

Can you tell us more about era's father?

OOOOO:

Well, he hasn’t really been given a name because I haven’t thought of one that can do him justice.  Honestly I’ve just been calling him “Tree dad”

Tree dad basically runs a planet full of magic, controlling basically everything that happens on it.  On the planet all “living” things are actually re-animated plants grown from the corpses of various different creatures (and their image too!  Imagine vine foxes and leaf bats and so on xD)  All creatures serve under him, but he’s far from being evil.  Tree dad sends his servants out to barren planets in order to help revive it and save it and its inhabitants.  The creatures help regrow long dead forests and provide failing ecosystems with a second chance and in return he requests a sacrifice to join the ranks of his planet in order to keep the cycle going.

Era’s father is more of a dutiful pacifist, only taking lives in order to preserve the delicate cycle and protect other planets.  He cares about his daughter and tends to baby and underestimate her, but only because he secretly worries x)  She’s his pride and joy after all!

when you’re reading suicide squad reviews and THIS racist shit pops up

Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (boy, he really needs a stage name - I’m just going to call him Mr. Eko).

Healing Wounds

 Set after Fire Across the Galaxy…                                                                          

Ezra sat on Sabine’s bunk in the ghost, wincing in pain. Kanan had offered to treat his cheek, but to his surprise Sabine stepped up to do the job. She patted his check with antiseptic, as he groaned. He had deflected the inquisitor’s lightsaber, but it’d left two painful cuts on his face. 

“Hold still,” Sabine ordered firmly but gentler than usual, as she dabbed at his cheek. He managed a weak grin and said, “Yes, ma’am. So what’s in store for me, Doctor Wren?”

She shook her head at his jokes, but said, “Well, from the looks of it, the cuts are definitely going to heal, but you will have scars.”

He joked around some more, despite feeling like his face had been set on fire multiple times. “Aw, I don’t mind. It show’s I’m a survivor, and plus, the ladies LOVE scars. At least, according to Zeb.”

She smirked and tilted her head “Actually, I think they look more like whiskers. So you look less like a rugged macho man and more like a loth-cat!”

He widened his eyes and pouted, meowing. Sabine couldn’t help laughing. The kid had been through so much that she didn’t really think he needed the name ‘kid’ anymore. But, she called him that anyway, to tease him. Still… there had to be more to it. They had just encountered another Jedi, another lost apprentice. She wondered how Ezra felt about that.

He saw her eyes grow serious and asked, “Come on. I’m not THAT bad looking with my new war wounds, am I?” She smiled again, and said, “Could be worse, hotshot. How are you feeling… about everything?”

Ezra sighed. Ever since painting the tie together, he had gotten closer to Sabine. He let her bandage his face, and told himself he could tell her. He could trust all of them now. He could open up. “I’m just shocked. And a little happy too. That me and Kanan aren’t the only Jedi out there. But… it’s just that…”

Sabine answered for him, “There’s going to be a bigger challenge we’re facing now. But we can make it through, Ezra. We always have.”

She surprised him again by setting the bandage and taking his hand. NO one had really taken his hand like that in… a long time. But this wasn’t parental. It was… something else. He didn’t let go. He put his other hand over hers.              She gave him that special smile with one corner of her mouth turned up. He loved that smile. Especially when she laughed and it grew wider. 

The smile grew into a beam. Then she pulled him up, and he saw with satisfaction that he was exactly her height now. Good. He couldn’t wait to be the one calling HER shorty from then on. “You up for a game of dejarik?” She asked.

 “Am I ever. You’d better have some decent credits on you because I’ve started beating Zeb now!” he said proudly.

“Everyone can beat Zeb!” she replied with a laugh. He smirked. “Yes, but only I can beat Chopper. Game on, Wren.”                                                                      “You’re gonna lose, Whiskers!” she called back, and he shook his head, patting his bandage. “You know you love them.”

They strolled off to the dejarik table as Ahsoka Tano watched them, a pang growing in her chest. It reminded her of so many memories, from the old days, the good days. Before everything turned dark. She was happy for them. They needed light in a dark time.

_______________________________________________________________________ Thanks to gabby-xo27 for this idea! I’m gonna get round to drawing this when I get the new computer! What do you think? 

This post, prompt: disneyworld cosplayers au

I have no idea where this came from. It’s ridiculous and is most likely twenty kinds of inaccurate but I’m not sorry.

….. ….. ….. ….. ….. ….. …..

“Can you do it again­­­?”

"Erm-what?” He had been staring, again, but redirected his attention to the girl tugging on his robes.

“The spell? Can you do it again? The spell? Pleeeassse?” She couldn’t be more than six or seven—he was rubbish at knowing their ages—and her eyes were magnified behind glasses that matched his own. She sported a tutu, a tiara, and a superhero cape, and her fingers gripped tightly around a purple wand. She bounced on the balls of her feet and begged him to do it again.

He remembered himself.

“Sure, sorry!” He smiled knowingly at her, presented his own wand for inspection, and said, “Lumos.” His thumb discreetly pressed the handle of his wand and the tip of his wand lit up.

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anonymous asked:

Hold on, remember in S1 they used to play a recording of Ezra would (almost like a journal entry or something) talking to the screen/us? What if Ezra falls into a coma in the S2 finale and it's revealed Chopper or Kanan (or someone in the crew) are the ones replaying the hologram over and over again because they miss Ezra and he won't wake up?

[softly, but with feeling] why

why do you do this, anon?! have we not suffered enough pain from in-a-coma!Ezra? 

you’re right! no, we have not. all aboard the angst train, kiddos!

YES. YES. AND YOU CAN 100% BET THAT IT’S CHOPPER PLAYING IT AND IT’S SOME BIG HERO 6 TYPE PAIN.

like, Chopper keeps trying to play it. now, unlike Baymax, Chopper is. well. Chopper. but either way - at one point or another, all of the Ghost crew have seen it. Zeb and Hera watched it together, Hera had a recording made and she keeps the data chip in her pocket. Sabine watched it almost obsessively, drawing Ezra from every angle, until she’s got a flip book’s collection worth of pictures. and as she flips through the sketchbook, she can see Ezra’s smile start to form and his shoulders lift up to add to a sheepish grin before they drop.

but Kanan won’t. Kanan patently refuses. on the pain of fiery death, he refuses to watch this recording. until…he can’t. it’s a mission gone poorly and he’s collapsed on his bunk, reeling under the weight of i left my left flank open because i expected Ezra to be there and he’s NOT and Chopper rolls up and, with absolutely no acknowledgement, starts playing the clip.

“Hey, guys,” Ezra begins with a bright grin as Kanan stares, clutching his left side, unable to do but watch with glassy eyes.

(Later, he uploads the entire thing to the holocron. And, without hesitation, he ends the recording with his own words.

“This is the Jedi Knight and master of Jedi Padawan Ezra Bridger,” Kanan says, because he doesn’t know what name to use. He doesn’t really need to use a name, “The Jedi Order has fallen over fifteen years ago, but we remain though we are few. And our history continues. And this…this is the history of Ezra Bridger.”

Centuries upon centuries later, one of the greatest mysteries in the Jedi Order’s history is who the Jedi Knight that taught Ezra Bridger, prophet and messiah during the Dark Times, was. While every good historian of the Order’s had a pet theory, no one knows or really needs to. The Light in the Darkness, the Voice of Hope, He-Who-Brought-Freedom - whatever name they’re remembering Ezra Bridger by, the first person who did so was his master.

And Caleb Dume or Kanan Jarrus or the Nameless Knight of the Dark Times, he kept the Jedi alive.

He kept Ezra Bridger alive.) 

omg so sorry for the cheesy ending, haha. but YES love the old family photo trop :’) ah, sweet fandom pain