how do you not pull up fic on your phone?

thezerogomez13  asked:

Can you write a fic of Hanzo’s daughter teaching him how to braid by braiding his own hair, and his s/o walking in on them and taking a bunch of pics because they’re both being ridiculously cute? Daddy Hanzo gives me so much life 💕💕

Originally posted by hanzofromoverwatch

“Papa! Can I braid your hair?” His child asked him and he smiled and nodded, he sat on the ground below her bed so she could sit above him, she gently pulled the ribbon from his hair, letting the greyed locks fall to their full length. She giggled as she played with his long hair.

“So how come you know how to braid and I don’t?” He asked, looking at her and she just lit up, clapping her hands excitedly, he raised an eyebrow at her sudden excited state. “Are you going to teach me?” He asked, and she nodded, pushing his head so he was facing forward.

“So first you take three sections and then..” His daughter trailed on, showing him how to braid his hair, she was still clumsy with it unable to tighten it as much as she should for it to stay, but nonetheless he listened intently, taking a different part of his hair and trying himself.

You leaned against the doorway watching your husband and daughter do the former’s hair. You pulled out your phone and snapped a few photos of them, smiling at how adorable the two were being. 

“You look great honey!” You complimented after his hair was finished, braided with many small and big braids. He looked up at you and did a funny pose causing both your daughter and you to laugh. He stood up, picking up your daughter and carrying her to you. 

“As do you, sweetheart. Come now, let us go get food.” 

fic rec feb

yuri on ice 

i walk my days on a wire / He’s both fragile and lethal, and he’s the most dangerous thing Otabek has ever let in close enough to touch.

you catch on like a bonfire / It’s one of the best and worst things about Otabek—the way he blurts things out like they’re obvious but still need to be said just because they’re the truth. 

the season of spirits / He did something at the last Christmas party that led Giacometti in Finance to call him “Table Master Yuuri” ever since.

the naming of cats / It sounds mean, and delighted, and Otabek knows that Yuri’s enjoyment of his pain is catlike because he has seen Murka do the exact same thing: dig sharp claws into skin and purr, pleased at herself.

a slow invasion of the heart / “You’re like a knife,” Otabek says, feverish. “A sword. Sometimes I think you have steel where your spine should be.” (just?? fuck me up???)

how to raise a tiger / Viktor pulls out his phone to make a notation in a document titled Yurochka’s Milestones!!

edit sober / “At first I thought you were using old breakup lines, but I really hope you never said that to an actual person.”

clueless / Another sale saved by heroic retail employee Phichit Chulanont!


Prompt: you, an irl acquaintance, have seen my nsfw blog, I am now going to die, goodbye

Word Count: (a note before writing) this probably going to be short-ish, but it’s really just for fun. 559

Warnings: mentions of nsfw content, language, bucky being a little shit

Author’s Note: tbh I need a happy, funny prompt up. I need shit eating smirk Barnes messing with someone. You just happened to be that someone. Depending on how it ends, I’m up for a smut part two where Bucky has you pull some of the shit they do (def consensual , obviously).

One more update.” You whispered to yourself as you sit in your bed. It was late and you should be sleeping. Unfortunately you were such Evanstan trash that every hour was Chrisbastian hour (okay but me). You made one more post about updating your A/B/O fic tomorrow before turning off your phone. Time for a snack before really going to bed.

The halls of the tower were empty which didn’t shock you. No one was awake at this ungodly hour. You didn’t feel bad about it though. They couldn’t ask what you were doing this late at night. They didn’t need to know what you were doing. It’s bad to lie to your teammates.

You enter the kitchen to see it was dark and empty. ‘My soul’, you thought to yourself. A Sprite, a bag of honey roasted peanuts, and your phone were in your hand before you headed back to your room. Tony stopped hounding you about snacks in your room when he realized it just wasn’t happening You loved midnight snacks.

While waiting in the elevator, you saw it stop. The doors open to show Bucky, who was in workout gear. That was actually pretty normal. He worked out either really late at night or early in the morning. You two had a few run ins in this spot.

“Sup, Miss Americana?” Bucky asked, voice in a whisper but the most “I know your secret” smirk on his face. You turned your head so slowly it almost didn’t move at all. Eyes wide and heart beating a mile a minute, your mouth cracks open.

What did you just call me?” Your voice barely above a whisper as well. Bucky only kept the coolest smirk in your face.

“Well, that’s what you call yourself, don’t you?” Bucky asked. You could feel your cheeks turn bright red. The only reason that was your tag name was because it was an old inside joke between you and Natasha.

“No, my name is Y/N.” You tried to play it off. Bucky pushed the button to stop the elevator. Had he been this glistening earlier? Why was it so damn hot in here?

“Oh I know. You didn’t mask your works too well…or maybe I just know you that well. Even better now if you ask me.” Bucky winked. Sputters came from you.

“How did you find my Tumblr? Why did you-you read those? W-what?” You asked. Bucky chuckled to himself.

“Tony got me addicted to Twitter. Someone messaged me in suspicion of it being your account.” Bucky confessed. You raised an eyebrow.

“How did you know it was me though?” You asked. Bucky shrugged casually.

“Intuition, knowledge….the fact that you posted a joke I told you the other day.” It was official, your were going to die of embarrassment thanks to Bucky Barnes. He’d tell everyone. You were absolutely sure of it.

“Okay, it’s my account. Just please, please, don’t tell anyone. I’ll never live it down after.” You pleaded. Bucky seemed to think on it, pressing the button again to start the elevator.

“You owe me a solid. I’ll decide on what it is later.” Bucky said when the doors opened again. He made sure to wink one last time before leaving you there. He always knew how to shock the shit out of you.

It’s strange how you don’t think about that until it happens to you. You just live your life, doing your normal daily things, only thinking about the injustices you can see right in front of you. What you can’t see doesn’t bother you. It’s not until it disrupts your life, your world, your worldview, that you realize how unfair it is. How unfair everything is.

“Do you think that’s her?”

A too-loud, definitely not sober whisper pulls me from my thoughts. Down the bar a group of guys cluster together, looking at the bright screen of a cell phone. Each has a beer in his hand and a glint in his eye. They’re definitely talking about me.

street like a frozen river | part 3 coming soon | pretty new banner by eriza

Coffee Run

So I’ve had something of a writing itch for a few weeks and finally decided to give it a go. This is literally the first thing I’ve written since high school, and maybe the first thing I’ve ever written voluntarily lol. I think this fandom just exudes so much creative spirit that some of it sunk into me. I’m not sure if I’m going to write again, but tips and tricks would be appreciated. 😊

This is set in the week before the road trip. I don’t think my MC would have been able to make it the whole week without seeing her new boyfriend, so I imagined this little visit. 💕☕️

- Zig X MC fic
- 1300 words

You walk into the campus coffee shop, having just been dropped off by your mom. 

“Just give me a call when you’re ready to be picked up!”

“Okay, mom, I know,” you say with a grin. You know the drill, but she always has to make sure to remind you. “Thanks again, I’ll call you later.“ 

It’s late morning during summer break, so the coffee shop isn’t very full of students, but there are enough people there to keep Zig from seeing you as soon as you walk in the door. Grabbing a spot in line, you glance over the familiar menu, trying to decide if you want to get your regular or something new. After a couple of minutes, you hear him call out to you. 

“Hey!” Zig greets you with a huge smile. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you until the road trip.”

“Well I can always get my coffee somewhere else,” you tease. 

Zig laughs and then he sighs. “It’s only been 4 days, how have I missed you so much already?”

You smile and you can feel yourself begin to blush. “I’m not sure, but I’ve missed you too. I couldn’t wait the whole week to see you so I had my mom drive me over here.”

“I can take my break after I get you your coffee. What’ll it be, the usual?”

“Actually,” you pause for a few seconds. “I think I’d like something new. Surprise me!”

Zig smiles, “Give me three minutes, I have something in mind. I’ll meet you outside, grab us a table?”

“Sure, I’ll be waiting.“ 

Zig leans over the counter to give you a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here by the way. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

You smile and turn, heading to the front door. 

Keep reading

Macaroni and Cheese|Hamilton

(Elizabeth Schuyler x Platonic!Female!Reader) (Thomas Jefferson x Female!Reader)

Request: ‘Hi! I read your 'Crash and Burn’ Hamilton fic and I really liked it, so I was wondering if you would do one where the reader is the same (Jefferson’s wife, Eliza’s friend) but with what happened after the Reynolds Pamphlet?’ -Anonymous

Warnings: one lil’ curse

I am so sorry that this took so long!

- - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) frowned at Thomas when he entered the house, showing him the article she had pulled up on her phone. “Secretary of Treasury Publishes Cheating Scandal,” she read aloud. Thomas swallowed nervously. “(Y/N), you can’t think this is my f-” “How long have you known?”

Thomas paused, before saying, “A month or so.” (Y/N) sighed, putting away her phone as she said, “You should have told me.” But her husband wasn’t done yet. “James, Burr, and I confronted Hamilton about a possible…mistake in his checking,” he said. “We thought he was abusing his power. Turned out that he was cheating on his wife.”

(Y/N) shook her head disgusted at both his and Alexander’s actions. “And you didn’t think to say anything?” “He made us swear not to, (Y/N).” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her coat and moving to leave the house, before stopping when he placed a hand on her arm. “Where are you going?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Eliza’s. To help undo the emotional damage inflicted on her. Where else?” Thomas started to reply, but (Y/N) cut him off. “Don’t even think about saying I can’t go, Jefferson.” He raised his hands in surrender, pulling the car keys from his pocket as he cooly said, “I wasn’t going to, Jefferson. I’m coming with.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Peggy opened the door to Eliza and Alexander’s house, her eyes narrowing when she saw Thomas. “If you’re here to brag, Angie and I will beat your sorry ass,” she said. Then (Y/N) stepped out from behind Thomas, and Peggy relaxed slightly. “I would never,” Thomas said quietly, as the youngest Schuyler sister let them into the house. Peggy couldn’t help but smile at his words, and she was starting to rethink her position on him.

Ushering them through the house, Peggy stopped outside the guest bedroom. Eliza and Angelica sat on the bed, Forrest Gump playing in the background as they talked quietly, obvious tear tracks on their faces. The duo fell quiet at Peggy and the Jeffersons’ entrance, Angelica’s brows furrowing at the sight of Thomas. “What-” she started to say, but she cut herself off when Eliza rushed into (Y/N)’s waiting arms.

“Hey, 'Liza, you’ll be okay,” (Y/N) crooned, holding Eliza tightly. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be here. Remember, you have Philip to take care of.” Eliza couldn’t seem to cry anymore, but she still clung to (Y/N) like a drowning woman to a lifeboat. (Y/N) pulled back from the hug, and Eliza smiled weakly at her, before her eyes landed on Thomas standing behind her.

She walked over to stand in front of him, her eyes questioning. “I wanted to apologize,” Thomas said quietly. “If I made this worse for you with any of my comments, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent.” Eliza studied him for a moment longer, suddenly engulfing him in a hug.

Thomas stiffened, before placing his arms around her and patting her back comfortingly. “Hey, hey,” he said softly. “I’m here, hun. We all are.” Eliza choked back a sob, and he continued to soothe her. “It’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay.”

Thomas smiled comfortingly at her when she stepped back, pulling a handkerchief from his shirt pocket for her. Eliza chuckled through her tears, taking it as she muttered, “Only you, Thomas. Only you.” He smirked, pulling another one from his pocket and handing it to Angelica. The eldest Schuyler rolled her eyes, but accepted the soft cloth. Thomas looked back at Peggy, offering a third that he had procured from who-knows-where. She shook her head, giggling, and Thomas proceeded to use it to wipe away his own quickly-forming tears.

(Y/N) smiled at her husband, brushing a lock of hair from her face before coming up with an idea. She pulled Angelica off the bed, beckoning Peggy closer into the room. “Bear hug!” she shouted, laughter ringing through the room as they all obliged. No one could tell exactly who they were hugging, but they were certainly all a bit more cheerful afterwards.

(Y/N), Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy jumped onto the bed, their attention being drawn back to the movie as Tom Hanks said, “I’m sorry for interrupting your Black Panther party.” Thomas ducked out of the room, and when (Y/N) asked him what he was doing, he simply called back, “Macaroni and cheese, (Y/N/N), darling! Macaroni and cheese!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Thomas walked back into the room, balancing five bowls on his arms. “Pink for Angelica,” he said, handing them out. “Blue for Eliza. Yellow for Peggy. (Y/F/C) for (Y/N). And magenta for me!” Angelica stared at him for a moment, and Peggy burst out laughing. “(Y/N),” the youngest Schuyler gasped out, “I am so glad that you married him.”

(Y/N) smiled, climbing off the bed to kiss her husband on the cheek. “Tom, darling?” “Yes, (Y/N/N)?” “Macaroni and cheese?” “Oh, you know it.” “God, I love you.”

Keeping Up with the Joneses

A while ago (I literally have no idea when, that’s how long ago it was), @juggybetts posted this fancast with an amazing AU prompt. I’ve had this in my drafts for about two weeks now, and it’s finally finished.

Please enjoy, and go easy on me. This is my first time writing smut. I hope you like it!

Jughead Jones is the undisputed king of Riverdale. His grandfather is the mayor, his father owns half the town and controls Riverdale’s shady side as leader of the Serpents, and Jughead is Riverdale High’s student body president and editor of the school paper. His relationship with Betty Cooper, Southside student and new Serpent recruit, could bring it all crashing down.

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Send these to your favorite Authors and let them blab! What is your total word count on AO3? How often do you write? Do you have a routine for writing? What’s your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing? Do you have a favorite fic of yours? Your fic with the most kudos? Anything you don’t like about your writing? Now something you do like! Send it to some of your favorite Authors to spread some love <3

Total word count:
Oh Jesus. 1,093,677.

How often do you write:
Um… every day, but the amount of time depends on work and my other commitments. I haven’t had a lot of time since the end of January. ;_;

Do you have a routine for writing?
Not really. I just pull up the Google docs app on my phone, or open it on my computer.

Favorite kinks/tropes/pairing:
I love fake dating and fake marriage AUs, which is weird since I’ve never written one. Big fan of slow burn, and all those quiet moments of tension where the MC is working out their attraction and unsure how to act on it. My favorite trope to write is Friends to Lovers, closely tied with my new favorite Ao3 tag, ‘Feminist themes.’ Also am constitutionally incapable of writing anything long without a Chekov’s gun. In terms of pairings… um, OTPs are still Ralph Lanyon/Laurie Odell, Enjolras/Courfeyrac, Elizabeth Bennet/Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy. I’ve got a new OTP for Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov too. They’re just so cute! ;_; 

Favorite fic:
Oh gosh. Ummmmm. Hm. My favorite fic is usually the one I’m working on. I’m deeply fond of my self-indulgent ‘A Dalliance with the Duke,’ and I still really like my Charioteer fic, ‘Turn of the Tide,’ since I like writing Ralph so much. 

Fic with the most kudos:
An Ever-Fixed Mark.

Anything you don’t like about your writing:
Mmmm, I’m actually pretty happy with my writing. That feels like a weirdly narcissistic thing to say, but I think just the sheer amount of writing I’ve done has helped me to figure out characterization, plot, action sequences, showing not telling, romance, etc. I think I could still stand to work on transitions, but I’m pretty happy with everything else. 

Something you do like:
I think I’ve finally refined my style to a point where I’m happy with it. I think my narration’s… self-aware? But not in a way that’s smug. Arch? I guess? I like making little asides with my narration. And I like the balance I’ve managed to strike in terms of description vs action and dialogue. 

I think after TW 5.03 we all need a little Melinski, am I right?

(this is technically from an upcoming chapter of Call My Name but works perfectly well on its own)

They’re taking care of the dinner dishes when Sheriff Stilinski’s phone chimes and he glances down at it. “Okay, I’m going out for a bit,” he says. “Melissa wants my help. Seems to have clogged her garbage disposal and doesn’t want to have to call a plumber.”

“Oh my God!” Stiles shoots out of his chair. “Are you kidding me?”

Tom frowns. “I’ll be back in a – ”

“No, seriously, you can’t just – go change your shirt! Clean up! For God’s sake, Dad! Don’t you know a booty call when you get one?”

“For God’s sake, Stiles – ”

“Dad, Melissa McCall has been a single mother for the past six years. Are you seriously telling me that you think she doesn’t know how to unclog a garbage disposal? And that she isn’t angling to watch your butt while you kneel on her kitchen floor? Get real! Go change shirts, you’ve got salsa on this one.”

Tom is frowning. “Do you actually think …”

“I don’t think, Dad, I know. Put on a clean T-shirt and a button down but then roll your sleeves up. Girls love that. Trust me, I heard that from Lydia, and she can be trusted. And put on some cologne. But not a lot.” Stiles is practically bouncing in his seat. “Do you need condoms? I have some if you don’t – ”

“Why on earth do you – never mind, I’ll abort that question before I hear the painfully obvious answer and just say I’m glad you’re being safe.” He clears his throat and adds, “But no, thank you, I’m fully capable of acquiring my own condoms, should I require them. I’ll just go and, uh, change shirts.”

Stiles chortles as his father leaves the room and he pulls out his phone to text Scott. ‘u home?’

‘no I’m at Allison’s, why?’

‘your mom just texted my dad for help unclogging her garbage disposal,’ Stiles texts back, smirking.

‘dude!’ Scott replies. ‘I did not need to know that!’

Stiles is still laughing as his father comes back into the room. “Okay, how do I look?”

“Super,” Stiles says. “I won’t wait up.”