i don't even know guys

anonymous asked:

i know i'm like the third person to ask this but, mafia is like town of salem but a card game? i've heard comparisons between tos and werewolf, but i don't think i've ever heard of a game called mafia :?

Mafia’s the classic party game that Werewolf, Town of Salem, and Epicmafia were all based on! The main difference is pretty much small changes to the rules, and extra roles.

Grantaire goes to every party that’s organised by any of his acquaintances even if he has not been invited and one day he shows up at Marius’ and Marius is like “but how the fuck did he even know where I lived” and Courfeyrac puts an arm around his shoulder and just goes “We all accepted a long time ago that he has Jack Sparrow’s compass and uses it to find where the alcohol is”.

Grantaire raises his hat at them when coming in.

499 words for the Sterek Writers’ Kiss Challenge

There are a thousand reasons not to do this. A thousand things that have kept him from even considering it outside of the half-conscious longings he could brush aside in daylight. It’s smarter, safer, to leave good enough alone, to keep from acknowledging what nothing good could ever come from acknowledging.

But when he slides into the room tonight and comes face to face with Stiles, when he looks up with a knowing expression that softens into fondness, when he says, head ducking, “My dad likes you now, creeper. You could’ve used the front door”… suddenly Derek can’t think of a single solitary one.

He’s crossing the room fast, the books he’d brought for research slipping to the floor as he falls into Stiles’ space, close enough to taste the boy’s skin on the air.

Stiles’ eyes skitter up, then float around Derek’s face in an uneven wobble that might seem scared if Derek hadn’t seen Stiles scared before, seen it too many times these past years. No, this is Stiles being startled but intrigued, seeing a puzzle he can’t help wanting to decipher.

And Derek is aching to let Stiles decipher him.

“Derek…?” It comes out tentative, too much air and not enough voice. Derek finds himself falling in closer, as close as he can get without brushing skin. Stiles’ eyes startle shut, mouth parting, breathing in sharp and wanting.

Derek needs to say something, but all that comes out is “I need… Stiles, I want…” before Stiles lets out a frantic noise and surges forward.

They don’t waste any time on tentative touches, their mouths parting on contact, gasping against each other before going deep. Derek has Stiles by the nape as Stiles presses, full-bodied, into him, everything hot and hungry at the first wet slide of tongues.

Stiles whines, hands darting everywhere, the palms dragging down Derek’s biceps, his sides, clenching at his jaw and tugging in some crazed attempt to drag Derek’s face straight into his. His mouth moves with equal fervor, seeming desperate to fill the first few seconds of their kiss with everything he’s ever imagined: hard licks and dragging teeth. His whole body is wracking with frantic shivers, the scent of nerves spiking through the air nearly as sharp as desire.

Derek drags his mouth back, Stiles’ protesting whine echoing deep in his own chest.

“Hey, just…” his voice is gravel-rough, his body hot and shuddery in a way he hasn’t felt in years. He feels like a teenager.

He feels happy.

When he ducks in again it’s all slow, sweet drags of lips and long pent emotion. Stiles sighs into it, relaxing, arms looping around Derek’s neck, his body a long, lean press of soft skin and angled hips. They stay like that, shifting slowly against each other, until Stiles draws back, breathless, brows furrowing.

“Wait, why now?”

Derek could give a thousand reasons. He shrugs.

“I decided to stop fighting it.”

“About time,” Stiles sighs, and drags him in again.

anyway here’s the best omake in the entire series