i can't take this fic

“Why go for ten thousand when we can go for a lifetime?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It is.”

Taking Chances Finale - Chapter 37 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY INTERNET BIG SIS @lightoflunaris​ AND HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO EVERYONE ELSE!! 

I Met you through Taking Chances, Andrea, and to have it end is bittersweet but being able to read/work on/finish this fic MAKES ME TEAR UP BECAUSE IT’S PRETTY MUCH THE FOUNDATION OF OUR FRIENDSHIP WHICH IS CRAZY!!!!!(ch!23)!1!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATE!! ILY!! ♡♡

Hey so I’m thinking about Kara and M’gann again and I wrote some stuff because goddamn it I am gonna build this city from the ground up if it’s the last thing I do.


strange girls in a strange land

It’s never a secret. For the first time in Kara’s thirteen years on Earth, there’s no great revelation. There isn’t anything to reveal.

This weight that she’s carried with her into every relationship outside the Danvers that she’s ever tried to build since she landed—it suddenly becomes inconsequential, when they’re together. The fact that Kara is Kryptonian, that she is Supergirl. The distinction between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El and National City’s resident hero. The deception; the disguise.

There’s no pretense between them, no pretending, no parts to play. They meet in the ring as Supergirl and Miss Martian, and then a few days later Kara Danvers shows up at the alien bar—and M’gann knows. It’s not something she needs to deduce or figure out after they’ve known each other a while. She just looks at Kara and she knows—it’s just a simple unconscious observation, as clear to see as the gold of Kara’s hair or the blue of her eyes.

M’gann slides Kara an Aldebaran rum and Kara doesn’t even realize that she’s still wearing her glasses.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey! After reading your Andriel amusement park prompt, I was wondering if you could do some Neil whump? Where Neil gets sick, or injured, and andrew takes care of him? Cheesy, but soothing for my soul \(^_^~ thanks!!

Listen, Anon. Soft fluffy Andreil is what I live for! So please enjoy this sick Neil drabble featuring mother-hen-Nicky and the very real flu death experiences of @irishrainbownjh

It starts with a tickle. Right at the back of the throat. It grates with every swallow, and despite how many times he clears his throat, Neil can’t seem to shake the scratch. He pulls himself out of bed, has a long hot shower, and downs two glasses of water, but it’s still persistently there.

By the time Neil is halfway through his morning lecture, his head has started pounding as well. It’s a constant pressure behind his eyes that throbs in time to his heartbeat and cries out at the flash of each new slide. The scratch of a pen on paper to his right and the smack of gum to his left only make it worse.

When the class finally ends, Neil drags himself back to Fox Tower. His body feels both sluggish and sore, like he’s just run five miles then slept ten hours cramped up. Even the smallest movement sets his muscles aching and his joints creaking.

It takes considerable effort to make it up the hill to Fox Tower, so Neil opts for the elevator over the stairs. The doors open on the third floor to reveal the hallway bustling with a group from the soccer team. One of the players has an arm full of pizza boxes, and the greasy scent wafts down to Neil. It makes his stomach bubble and churn, and the striker braces himself against the wall and breathes through gritted teeth to get it to settle.

“Neil?”

Neil whips around at the sound of his name, but the fast movement causes lights to pop behind his eyes. It’s like a bad case of vertigo, his whole world tilting, and Neil stumbles back against the wall again. He blinks a few times, and when his eyes come back into focus, he finds Nicky’s concerned expression. It takes another moment to register that Nicky’s hands are gripping his elbows and holding him steady.

“Jesus, are you alright? You look awful.” Nicky raises his hand and presses it against Neil’s forehead. “And you’re burning up. Let’s get you inside.”

Keep reading

Can’t Take The Sky (1/3)

She knows how to find people. He’s got a fast ship. They need each other - and neither of them is happy about it.

… in which Emma Swan and Killian Jones team up to apprehend an armed and dangerous military deserter, who just so happens to be Killian’s brother. Shenanigans ensure - in space. Sci-fi AU inspired by all the things I love, for day 4 of @seastarved‘s Fantasy Pretzel Week.

Huge thank you to the ladies at the CS Writers’ Hub for the cheerleading and the feedback and everything! You’re all wonderful.


Blaster fire lit up the alleyway around Emma, flashing as it hit the grimy walls, the high-pitched whirr of the guns drowning out noise of the speeders from the street beyond. She flung herself into the meagre cover of a waste disposal unit, breathing hard. Her back was still hitting the wall when her companion joined her, whirling around to fire at their attackers as he backed into her.

And kept backing up.

“Hook,” she pressed out as his shoulders obscured her view, the scent of leather and soap almost overpowering the smell of the alley. “You’re crushing me.”

“My apologies, but I’ve no desire to get shot,” he gritted out. “Where did all these fellows come from?”

“You’re the one who poked the gundark den,” she reminded him sharply. “Why’d you break cover? You were supposed to wait for my signal.”

She’d known going in that this mission was a huge risk. It had gone well at first; they’d landed on Dathmun without any of the trouble that Killian had predicted, and he’d even managed to talk the dock officials out of the usual trumped-up customs charges. Up until give minutes ago, Emma would have said that the place was perfect—easy in, just busy enough to provide cover and distractions, and no weapons bans.

She might still be saying it now, if her words weren’t going to be drowned out by the blaster fire.

“Did you see how he was looking at you?” Killian demanded, edging carefully forward to snap off two quick shots at their attackers.

“How—“ Emma felt her eyes widen, something fast and hot and angry rising inside her. “You got jealous?”

“No,” he shot back, a little too quickly. “You were about to be made.”

Keep reading

I solemnly swear I will take care of myself while re-reading The Debt of Time

I will continue to eat, drink water, and get minimal sleep while reading The Debt of Time.


If you need self care reminders while diving into The Debt of Time either again, or for the first time (or during any epic fanfiction) follow #DoTSelfCare and #Hufflemum for reminders to take care of yourself.

You can also follow on twitter: @hufflemum

                                             Jailbait Verse Summary:

After being accused of plotting the next Columbine shooting, seventeen-year-old Jared is sent to three months at Travis County Juvenile Detention Center in Austin, Texas in order to await his court hearing. Frightened and convinced he is innocent, Jared tries to become a fly on the wall to avoid any problems, but conflict and misfortune always seems to find him when he catches the attention of another seventeen-year-old boy named Jensen, who he later learns has been in the detention center for five years prior to his own arrival. High on sex, blood, and violence, the two juveniles will learn the heavy weight of what freedom actually costs.

re-reading the X-Wing books, my main takeaway from Solo Command is that someone really needs to make Wedge/Han like… a thing.

After all, you get such gems as the following:

“Well, you’re not the only member of the crew who could benefit from some blissful irresponsibility right now. So I’m going to stage an insurrection and seize control of Mon Remonda.”

Solo gave a curt laugh. “Wedge Antilles, mutineer. That I have to see.”

which follows a long, emotionally charged conversation of Han admitting his insecurities about his and Leia’s relationship,

Rogue One was among the pilots returning. Solo breathed a sigh of relief. He had few enough friends. Win or lose, he didn’t want to lose any more in this engagement.

… Han I can’t believe you care this much? and then there’s this whole scene:

Han Solo and Wedge Antilles sat in the cockpit of the Millennium Falsehood, their feet up on the control boards.

“Stand by, Communications.” Solo shut off the cockpit microphone and gave Wedge an accusing look. “You said, when you overflew her X-wing, that you saw no sign she ejected.”

“That’s right.” Wedge stretched lazily. “There was no automated comm signal indicating an ejection.”

“Commander Square Corners himself, showing a streak of duplicity. Lying by omission. I can’t believe it.”

As they walked down the Falsehood’s loading ramp, Solo threw an arm over Wedge’s shoulders. “Corellian to Corellian, you know what the great thing about being a general is?”

“No, what?”

“In lots of circumstances, you can pretty much do whatever you want.” With his free hand, Solo reached over and gave Wedge’s hair a thorough mussing.

Wedge batted his hand away. “Hey, stop it.”

and who can forget the scene in Wedge’s Gamble, in which Wedge attempts to counsel Leia about her relationship with Han:

“That’s his nature, though–he’s chaos incarnate.” Wedge smiled. “Han Solo, you have to love him…”

“… or freeze him in carbonite, I know.” Leia stared wistfully off into the distance. “He’s a good man. Even with his quirks and rough edges, I don’t think I can find better in this galaxy. And I’m not really interesting in looking, either, but there are times when I wonder ‘Why him?’”

“If you ever have doubts, serious doubts, come see me. I can give you a dozen reasons to answer that question.”

in which I know what Wedge means, where he could give Leia a dozen reasons why Han is the right guy for her, but honestly it kind of sounds like Wedge has a dozen reasons why one would be in love with Han Solo, at least six of which apply to him personally.

archiveofourown.org
Study in Heat - greenjimkirk - Star Trek: The Original Series [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock, Amanda Grayson, Sarek (Star Trek)
Additional Tags: Episode: s01e28 The City on the Edge of Forever, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vulcan Culture, First Time, a healthy mix of fluff and angst, or at least i hope, au where vulcan has a moon
Summary:

After the events in City on the Edge of Forever, Spock suggests that he and Jim spend some time on Vulcan. Turns out it’s not a great place for a vacation, but is plenty good for pining.


NO LISTEN, I JUST READ EVERYTHING @greenjimkirk HAS ON AO3 AND EVERY WORD OF IT IS GOLDEN. 

anonymous asked:

EVEN WILL BE FINE YOU TAKE THAT BACK TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW.. 😭😭😭😭😭 I know I've always known Even was gonna be hurt this series.. Leave me alone. You Better love on him in your fic I CAN'T TAKE THIS

LISTEN IM CRYINNNGG!!
I’m just interpreting the teaser. In Noora’s teaser, Julie basically hinted at the entire S2 plot.
If we follow that same logic, she’s telling us what will happen:
- Sana causes Noora to trip (one can assume Sana does some scheming thinking it’s in Noora’s best intention but like.. nah…)
- Shit goes down
- Everybody kind of gets affected to different degrees (domino effect)
- (The song says Sana has good intentions)
- Even bleeds (basically gets hurt the most lmfao) (but Isak is there for him)
- lMFAO BRB GONNA KMS

Adrienette for Seven Minutes

Is that title hinting enough? XD

(Don’t worry, it’s totally SFW. XD lol)

(Just take this, it’s like two months old, just take it and have it while I try to finish up this Stray Chat chapter)

——–

-

“SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN!” Alya and Nino practically screamed as soon as Adrien walked through the door.

“What?” he asked, completely confused.

“NO- ALYA- PLEASE-” Marinette looked like she was going to start crying.

“It’s an American party game Adrien, all the cool kids do it.” Nino said with a shrug.

The home schooled and sheltered boy furrowed his eyebrows in even more confusion and said,

“Whenever you say that, we always end up doing something my Dad grounds me for.”

Keep reading

I don’t understand it when you find an unformatted fic on on AO3 (aka The Giant Wall of Text).  Is it a phone posting thing?  How can you not notice that you’ve got a fic blob on your hands?   Do people fling their fics at the site and run away, never to look back?

[fic] An S&P-Approved Tentacle Encounter

(Shows up one week late having drunk all the Starbucks herself)

Stanchez, 1408 words, warning for crack, some mature language and one really suggestive situation

Keep reading

atelophobish  asked:

from the apartment plot thing, 4th from "the walls are paper thin" or 5th from "you broke into my apartment" with romione ((these two are s c r e a m i n g romione)) if you want to, please!

“The walls are paper thin and every night I watch jeopardy and I guess you’re really smart because every night you shout out the correct answer and at this point I’m not sure there’s a question you can’t answer?”

A/N: this was supposed to be a small drabble i promise but somewhere along the way it turned into an absolute monster of a fic and now i’m thousands of words deep into a romione university au i never planned to write. it’s a long way from being finished but i didn’t want to leave this ask unanswered any longer so here’s the first scene of what i have so far :)


There are few things more pathetic than drinking cheap beer alone in your apartment on a Friday night, Ron thinks to himself as he takes another sip. Unless, of course, you’re drinking cheap beer alone in your apartment whilst watching jeopardy on a Friday night.

It’s not that he doesn’t have anywhere else to be- he has friends he could hang out with, sure- but campus life is new to him and he hasn’t quite figured out the logistics of college yet.

Harry would probably be amendable to exploring the area with him, Ron’s sure, but Harry had to go and get themself knocked in the head during rugby practice earlier- the bastard- and is under strict instructions to get some rest before the match tomorrow.

Logically, Ron’s next course of action would be to see if Seamus and Dean wanted to hang out- only, he’s pretty certain it’s date night for them, and Ron does not fancy trailing them around like some useless third wheel, thank you very much.

Next on his list is Neville- but Neville is already fretting about falling behind in his classes (it’s been a week!) and as such has already informed Ron that he’ll be spending the night in the library, which is- well. Ron’s never been much of a library guy, to be honest.

Which leaves Ginny. And whilst Ron may be pathetic enough for cheap beer and old jeopardy re-runs, he is not pathetic enough to resort to spending Friday night intruding on his little sister and her friends.

So here he is, alone, drink in hand, trying to guess the next answer before the contestant.

At first, he’d tried to turn it into a sort of drinking game. For every answer he got that the contestant didn’t, he’d take a drink. This fell rapidly, however, when he’d gone five whole rounds without touching the can in front of him, at which he promptly gave up and resorted to shouting out whichever option hadn’t been the answer in a while (a winning strategy, if he does say so himself.)

The answer onscreen (”Harper Lee was a childhood friend of this ‘In Cold Blood’ novelist when they were neighbours in Alabama”) has only just appeared when Ron makes the executive decision that the question is option two- it hasn’t been option two in at least three turns, so he’s pretty confident in himself when he yells “Who is Tony Hillerman!” at the screen.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” yells a voice that is decidedly not Alex Trebek. “It’s- ‘Who is Truman Capote!’”

The voice that speaks sounds verging on exasperated and seems, bizarrely, to be coming from Ron’s wall.

It takes a second for the pieces to click together in his slightly-less-than-sober brain, but once they do, Ron feels like smacking his palm against his forehead for being such an idiot.

His new apartment has unbelievably thin walls (he suspects it’s one of the reasons it was so cheap) and his next door neighbour must have been able to hear his less than dignified yelling from her place.

Overcome with the urge to hide his face behind one of his newly purchased sofa cushions, Ron settles for groaning instead- before abruptly shoving his fist into his mouth when he realises that she’ll be able to hear that too.

“Thanks!” he calls back instead, because it’s only polite, right?

“No problem.” he hears shouted back, and damn him if there isn’t something like a hint of amusement in her tone this time.

Ron smiles.

He briefly entertains the notion of going over to her place. Then he realises the numerous problems with that scenario. Mainly being that he doesn’t even know this girl- he can’t even remember her name (although he’s pretty sure it was something weird, beginning with an H) - and also because he is well on his way to becoming drunk, and Ron may not be that well acquainted with college etiquette yet- but he’s pretty sure most people don’t take too kindly to having half-drunk strangers appear on their doorsteps.

So he watches the rest of jeopardy in silence.

(What he definitely is not doing is hoping to hear his neighbour’s voice shouting the answer through the walls again. Nope. Nuh uh. Not at all.)

purple lavender clouds

summary“we met through a mutual friend.” 

or the one where dan and phil aren’t bitch ass liars and actually met while dan was still a student at manchester uni. if you can cue student stress, shitty studio apartments, and copious weed use–  you’ve got the right picture.

genre: general/fluff/lil angst

word count: 3.6k

warnings: tw for weed, internalized homophobia, wanting to pitch yourself off a building because of law school, and cheap ass rum

a/n: this whole fic is written in the pov of someone high so heyo for experimental syntax and free association . also don’t do drugs kids :)

read on ao3 // playlist esp these songs x x x x 

excerpt: “Phil, I don’t think anything is real.”

“That’s okay. Me either.” 

Keep reading

“Ryan,” Gavin said suddenly. “Can I paint a moustache on you, Ryan?”

“What?” Ryan asked, startled out of his staring - “No!”

“Please, Ryan. Oh my God. It’d be so funny. It’ll be under the mask all day anyway!”

“What if I take my mask off?”

“It’ll shock whoever sees it so much you’ll have time to kill ‘em. Come on Ryan. Don’t be a party pooper. You said you’d wear an animal onesie around, what’s a moustache compared to that?”

He looked so gleeful that Ryan could only roll his eyes and hand over the paintbrush. Gavin let out a delighted sort of squawk and grabbed it.

[…]

“I look like Geoff,” he said.

Gavin couldn’t even reply, too busy doubled over, cackling as though this was the most hysterical thing he’d ever seen. Seeing him laughing and looking so carefree was nice, after the last few weeks, and Ryan couldn’t help but stare at him, smiling fondly.

- from whalehuntingboyfriends’ fic Murdering Mr. Darcy

anonymous asked:

Hey here's a heathers prompt do the entire musical of heathers where chris is Veronica, Jason is JD and mat, peepachu and steph are the heathers ram and kurt are Dark Jason and gaijin goomba Please. It can be a shortened version but please

Hi, so I appreciate the prompt but unfortunately dear anon as there is no way I can fit the entirety of Heathers into like 5 paragraphs. Plus, I’m afraid I don’t really know who gaijin goomba is. So I’m sadly gonna have to pass on this, but I appreciate that you took the time to send in a prompt!