i don't get why it isn't moving but if you click on it it will

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”

The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Oooooh how about NHL Chowder? Or really NHL anybody that isn't Jack. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

“I can’t do this,” Chris says, his forehead pressed into the cool wood of the table in the hotel room. “Oh my God. I can’t do this.”

“Chris.” Long fingers press into his hair, and he picks his head up in time to see Derek sit down across from him. He holds both his hands out and makes a c’mon gesture with them, and Chris takes both of them, squeezing hard and then dropping his head to inhale the smell of Derek’s skin, still fresh and clean from his post-game shower.

God. The game. The game that they won. They won the Frozen fucking Four, and Chris only let one goal in the whole time, practically a fucking shutout, and that was why–

He sucks in a breath.

“Hey.” Chris makes himself look up. Derek’s watching him calmly–not with his chill face, because Chris knows that one’s totally fake, but actually calmly, gently. When Chris meets his eyes, he smiles. Chris smiles back, a little. He likes soft Derek. “Lemme in that brain of yours, Chow.”

“I just…” Chris swallows, motioning down at the papers in front of him, a little helpless. “I just–things? Like, things. I’m having…I’m having feelings. Like, a lot of feelings.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay,” he says. He nods toward the papers. “Can I look, or…”

Chris shakes his head. He’s not ready to show him yet. “Um. I need to hold your hands right now.”

“Okay.” Derek squeezes his hands. He’s quiet for a moment, and then says, “So, not the Sharks, then?”

“Not the Sharks.”

Derek nods slowly, then tilts his head to one side. His hair’s grown out a little–thanks, playoffs–and it makes his curls flop with the motion. “Gonna make me guess?”

“The Schooners,” Chris says. He hesitates. “And the Rangers.”

He sees the moment it clicks for Derek. “Oh,” he says. And then, “Oh,” again, softer, gentler, almost to himself.

Because Derek’s going back to New York for grad school, and Cait’s job search is wide open right now, but she’s been looking at tech firms in Manhattan, and it’s not like Derek doesn’t know Chris has been looking at diamonds online for months, but what Derek actually doesn’t know is that he’s been looking at wider, more masculine bands, too, because it’s not just him and Cait anymore, hasn’t been for a long time, and–

“C,” Derek says, carefully, “You shouldn’t make your call based on–I mean, you–” He takes a breath, squeezes Chris’s hands, and then says, “Lemme back up. What’s freaking you out?”

“All the things?” Chris guesses. He sighs. “Like, it’s real? I mean, it was always the dream, but now it’s like–it’s real. Going pro, it’s an option, teams want me, teams are actually looking at me and trying to get me to sign with them, and I just–I don’t know how to–It just feels big, you know?”

Derek nods. He strokes the pads of his thumbs over the backs of Chris’s knuckles. It’s probably an absent motion, but it’s soft, soothing. Chris relaxes a little. “You know you deserve it,” he says softly. “Right? You’re the fucking league, Chowder. You deserve everything.”

“But–” Chris swallows. “But what if I fuck up?”

This is the insecurity he never lets his parents see, because he has to show them that hockey can be a Real Thing, that his computer science degree is just a backup. He’ll show Caitlyn, and he knows she’d never, ever judge him, but she doesn’t get it, either–she loves him so much, but she just doesn’t really understand the pressure, the need to be not just good but better, because good enough is never enough.

But Derek–Derek gets it. Derek knows. He squeezes his hand. “Then you do your fucking best,” he says. “And if they cut you, you come move in with me, and you can live off my generous trust fund as my live-in kept boy.”

It’s such an unexpected response that it startles a laugh out of him. “Derek, what the fuck,” Chris says, but he sniffles and laughs and lets go of one of Derek’s hands and wipes his eyes. “I was being serious.”

“So was I,” Derek says, grinning. He leans across the table and kisses Chris’s cheek, way up on the corner of his cheekbone, almost at the edge of his eye. It’s his favorite spot. “Got your back doesn’t end when we leave Samwell,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “Okay?”

Chris takes a breath. “Okay,” he says. “You promise?”

Derek smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Chris smiles, the last, lingering tension finally loosening from his chest. With a shaking hand, he turns over one of the stacks of paper in front of him, and pushes the Rangers contract–already signed–across the table so Derek can see. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

anonymous asked:

Hey I love your blog!!! It's really great and I love to see what you post! Can I make a request? I don't want to sound like every body else who wants to make requests but I'm socially awkward. Can you maybe do all companions reacting to m or f SoulSurvivor proposing marriage to them? I'm sorry if you have already done it. Anyways please keep up the great work! I'm happy to see one that isn't just reblogs now days!❤️

Thank you so much! I know the blog’s been a bit dormant lately but I’m trying to find time to write for you lovelies again and encouragement like this always helps a lot so thanks friend! <3

Cait - She stares at them with wide eyes and her mouth slightly agape in shock. Sole is proposing to her? What the fuck? This had to be some kind of cruel joke. They could have anyone in the Commonwealth so why the fuck would they be proposing to her of all people? “Nice try, Sole. But I’m not fallin’ for one o’ yer jokes.” She goes to walk away, but immediately stops when she realises her words sparked that flash of hurt in their eyes. “Wait, are ya serious? Ya actually want to marry me?” When they nod and tell her exactly what they feel for her, she feels herself go a bit dizzy and has to kneel down in front of them to stop from keeling over face first. She stares into their eyes, seeing everything she needs to see within them, before murmuring “Yes” and immediately grinning at the feeling the amazing feeling the realisation sparked in her chest.

Codsworth - ERROR>CANNOT PROCESS VOICE/DIALOGUE INTERPHASE>REQUESTING CLARIFICATION “Sir/mum? C-can you repeat that please?” They were proposing. Actually proposing. To him. His optical units flex uselessly, expanding and shrinking while his metal appendages flutter at his sides. The Pride of General Atomics felt like anything but as he stared at Sole and processed their words. But before he knew it, he was already talking. “Sir/mum, I-I…yes.”

Curie - “Why are you kneeling, monsieur/madam? Are you injured?” She doesn’t understand at first, but when Sole pulls out the golden ring and gazes up at her with the cutest smile on their face and a question in their eyes, it clicks. “Oh! You are proposing to me?” Her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes start brimming with glittering tears. “Yes! Yes I will marry you, my love!” She enfolds Sole in the biggest hug, pressing delicate kisses everywhere on their face before letting them slip the beautiful ring on her finger.

Danse - He would give almost anything to have been asked instead to recite the Brotherhood’s initiation pledge, or hell, even Scribe Neriah’s biological reports on her pet specimens. But who was he kidding? He’s wanted this ever since he first told Sole that he loved them. Before answering, he’d hastily climb out of his power armour and take Sole’s hand in his while looking them in the eye. “Yes.”

Deacon - Two eyebrows raise high above his glasses as he watches Sole get down on one knee and reveal the gleaming golden ring. For the first time in his life, he’s left completely speechless. He doesn’t make a move or a sound for a few moments while he tries to wrap his head around the prospect of marrying the person he loves. But when his mind inevitably reboots, the grin on his face is all the answer Sole needs before slipping on the ring.

Dogmeat - Head tilts and a curious sniff of the ring. What on earth did Sole want him to do with this tiny, awfully shiny thing? He runs off to bring back his favourite big red ball, plopping it down at Sole’s feet and looking up at them expectantly. Now that’s a toy worthy of the pupper’s attention.

Gage - Marriage had never crossed his mind. Ever. But the prospect seems so good when offered from Sole’s sweet lips. So much so, that he can’t help himself as he pulls them up from their kneel, pulls them flush with his body and presses his lips soundly to theirs. By the way he squeezes their ass affectionately, they have his answer.

Hancock - Despite knowing that this is all he could ever have wanted in his life – a person to love, to come home to, to be his purpose for living – he’d still feel unworthy of them. Yes on the outside he doesn’t give a damn about being a ghoul, a murderer, a junky, but on the inside, he can’t lie to himself about how Sole surely deserves better than him. But they were asking him and everything Sole says and does is not without them meaning to, so he must be doing something right to have won their heart. The thought makes him smile widely and gives him the courage to lean down and kiss them softly, whispering his answer on their lips.

MacCready - He’d start blushing like a lighthouse when Sole gets down on one knee and presents the golden ring for him, their smile making him sway where he stands. For the first time in a long time, his usually steady hands start shaking like a junkie on psycho. He takes a shuddering breath, wipes at his eyes that totally are not watering, and musters up the biggest smile. “Hell yeah I’ll marry you.”

Nick Valentine - For him, everything and anything romantic died back with the human Nick Valentine so many years ago. So it was a shock when he was lucky enough to find Sole, but he’s even more stunned when they finally propose to him. On the one hand, he wants to say no – they need to find someone better for themselves than him. Someone human, someone warm and actually snuggle-able for cold nights and rainy days. But then he realised that to say no to them would be selfishly satisfying his guilt for being a synth, because after all, they already do all those things the human Nick would do and who is he to question Sole’s love for him. So with an upturn of his lips and newly brightened gaze, he’ll swipe off his fedora, lean down and whisper against their soft lips “Yes.”

Piper Wright - She gasps and freezes when she sees the ring, her hand covering her mouth as she stares at them. “Blue. Blue what are you doing?” Her voice shakes and her vision goes all blurry when they say the three words that threatened to turn her world upside down in the most wonderful of ways. Blue wants to marry her. Her. The most annoying, hard headed, troublesome person in the entire Commonwealth and they – a wonderful, beautiful, perfect human being – want to marry her? “Blue,” She forces out on a shuddering whisper. “I love you so much…but, are you sure? Like, really sure? I mean…I’m me and you’re you and…I…” Was rambling. She was rambling. Great. But the way they look at her makes her weak and when they reaffirm their feelings for her, it’s settled. “Yes!” She squeaks, throwing herself at them and enfolding them in a bone-crushing hug. But then she realises something and pulls back to look them in the eye. “Shots not telling Nat.”

Preston Garvey - Tears. Oh so many tears. He’d laugh a little, cry a little and most definitely scoop Sole up in the biggest, tightest hug he could while murmuring “Yes” over and over again in their ear. He never knew he could smile so much and he most certainly never expected the giant hole in his heart to be sewn shut just by the single most important person in the Commonwealth speaking three little, beautiful words to him.

Strong - He gets a little irritated, what with Sole trying awfully hard to squeeze on this tiny and very breakable little shiny piece of what he could make out was most likely a piece of garbage they’re always collecting. “STOP, TINY HUMAN!” After being badgered by Sole a long time afterwards, he’ll relent to wearing the damn thing around his neck. Although the exact significance him wearing it to Sole is still lost on him, he’ll make sure he doesn’t lose it.

X6-88 - When he realised just what it was Sole was doing, he’d have to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. He knew what they shared together was special, but marriage? To Sole? Only to them? Hell yeah. He had no idea how badly he wanted it until the word was out of his mouth on a barely audible breath “Yes.”

anonymous asked:

Headcanon. Archie is the first person Veronica tells about her feelings for Betty idk I just feel like it would be a thing where she's ranting at him and says something about how it's so fucked up that people like people who don't like them back and he's thinking 'betty isn't even mad at me for not liking her back anymore but you're still mad at me for her' until Veronica gets real sad and says something like I just want her to love me or something and he realizes that she likes Betty but idk

So I took this ask as a prompt and wrote a little one shot based off of it.

I wrote this at 2 am so it’s kinda rough but I still hope you like it.


His day had started off well enough; early morning football practice, which wasn’t really all that great, hadn’t it been for the fact that a great new melody for one of his songs had popped into his head.

Humming the tune as he walked through the halls, he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Veronica Lodge at the end of the hallway; clearly out for blood. Just as he was about to turn the other way to escape her wrath, he heard her shout out to him.

So much for that plan.

As he turned around he saw Veronica walk towards him with a fire in her step that showed that she meant business. And here he had thought this was going to be a good day. Stupid.

“Archie Andrews! Don’t think I didn’t see you.”

He had only hoped.

“I need to talk to you actually, Ronnie, but can we please go somewhere else?” He said defeatedly. Knowing damn well that if Veronica wanted something, she was going to get it.

She glared at him suspiciously but followed him to the music room, which was surprisingly empty for once.

“This better be good because I’m about to go off on you in about two minutes” she said, crossing her arms in defiance.

“Whatever you’re going to say about me and Betty, I know, okay?” He said, sitting down in front of the piano. “I’m a douchebag for stringing her along and hurting her just because I was too blind to see that my best friend has a crush on me.”

“So whatever you have to say, save it.” He looked down at the keys. “I’ve already told her I’m sorry a million times, and she has forgiven me! No hard feelings.” He dared to look up at her but her face was unreadable.

“Are you done?” She said, looking unimpressed.

“Yes.” He was.

“Betty stood at my door crying Archie! No, sobbing actually, because you rejected her for being ‘too perfect for you’.” Veronica said to him accusingly. “Who even uses that lame old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse anymore?”

He did apparently. “Look Ronnie, I know you’re mad at me and all, but you haven’t talked to me in two weeks and now you suddenly come at me out of nowhere.”

“Betty has moved on, why can’t you?” He asked her gently.

She looked at him for a while before sitting down next to him by the piano. Laying her head on his shoulder and sighing deeply.

He looked at her; careful to not make any sudden movements that would disturb her from her thoughts, seeing not quite anger, but sadness reflected in her eyes.

“I just know how much it sucks when someone you like doesn’t like you back. I don’t wish that feeling on anyone. Especially not Betty.” Veronica finally answered, her voice having lost all the fire it once held.

Archie put his arm around her then, feeling her completely deflate against him. He knew there was something he wasn’t seeing. A piece of the puzzle he was missing; but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“I’m sorry for being angry at you Arch.” She said. “It just seems hardly fair when you love someone so much but they are completely oblivious.” He felt her words vibrating against his chest.

Suddenly, it clicked.

“You’re in love with Betty…” He says hesitantly.

Veronica is silent for a long while then, letting the sentence hang between them, making the air feel thick with unspoken thoughts. Because even though her face showed no sign of discomfort, he felt her heart rapidly thudding against his shoulder.

She looks up at him with a sad smile on her face.

“I’m in love with Betty.” She finally says, sounding so certain that he almost doesn’t believe that she came to that conclusion just a few seconds ago. Just like that, it was as clear as night and day. Veronica was in love with Betty just like the earth revolves around the sun, as sure as the currents of the sea.

“But that doesn’t matter.” She says, looking up at him “Because I’m in love with Betty and she’s in love with you.”

anonymous asked:

ENTPs and INFJs are supposedly compatible, but as an ENTP I honestly struggle to get along with every INFJ I know, even if I don't mind them too much. Idk if it's underdevelopment or just simply not fitting the stereotype, but there isn't a lot of material about the two types incompatibility (and it really bugs me that I can't research the crap out of it). How do you approach differences/conflicts of thinking with the INFJs you know?

Oh I don’t get along with every INFJ I meet, and I’m sure that most/all ENTPs don’t get along with ever INFJ they meet. I tend to be on the stereotypical side of ENTP, so in terms of preferences, I’m like a moth to the flame with INFJs. This being said, I do know a few INFJs who I don’t really like. (This also being said, I was attracted to them at first… I’m a woman who knows what she likes at first sight– INFJs and Jason Momoa.) 

BUT the point is, there are differences between the types, so of course there is incompatibility. INFJs are so so so private and it is hard to get to know them, and so starting off with them can be like nails on chalkboards of trying to open a door that just doesn’t want to be opened. And then once we open the door and the INFJ starts making moves in our direction and the ENTP has their private, don’t-make-me-be-vulnerable obstacle to get over. These two getting together can really be a tug of war game and sometimes it’s just not worth it because the two types aren’t ready and there just isn’t enough time for the types to grow up and click.  

INFJs tend to be perfectionists! ENTPs do not. I personally find this to be cute on an INFJ, but on other people I get annoyed with obsessive adding to a cause that doesn’t have to be perfect. ENTPs, for things that they’re only partially interested in (so most things), are ok with things that are good enough, which I know stresses  out my INFJ when he looks at my homework assignments on loose-leaf paper with inconsistent spacing and things scratched out. His homework looks like a freaking constitution and I’m like why. I just don’t get it. (Why do people put effort into things!?) But it’s cute so it’s fine. 

In terms of conflicts of thinking, the one thing that I like most about INFJs is that they are so easy for me to talk to, and they don’t take ENTP shit. In fact they call us out on it and they play along while not playing along at the same time. For example, my INFJ was complaining about a member he had on his project not showing up to any of the meetings, so I suggested that maybe this guy’s sister had lost both of her legs, and he couldn’t come to meetings because he was dealing with the tragedy. My INFJ didn’t flinch with this suggestion, he just was like, It really sucks about this guy’s sister’s legs, but he’s got to tell us about it so we can give him a get well soon card or get this project done. So once you get to know an INFJ, they play along well, if you want more reaction to your statements, then maybe you won’t like this, and that’s ok too!

INFJs also get tired pretty easily around people. It can be hard to get to them sometimes. ENTPs also burn out, and so they may see INFJs sitting there, be like, cool person, but I’m tired and not right now. And then no friendship is ever formed because of mutual tiredness. I’ve noticed that when I talk to a tired out INFJ, they get pumped up again because of the flowing brainwaves. But again, startup is the hardest thing with these two types. 

INFJs are an altruistic type. ENTPs tend to not trust others, nor do they want to do things for others because ew (logically, unless I love someone, it does not make sense for me to go out of my way to… hhhh). This can be a slight butting of heads because ENTPs sometimes come off as non-caring an maybe a bit selfish and narcissistic. INFJs can seem too giving at times (though they’re not that bad about it)… The biggest problem from this aspect is the ENTP being irritated with general niceness, and it’s something for us to grow out of or get accustomed to. 

Finally, INFJs are quite a bit more sensitive than we are, and as a result, they will take our ENTP emotional discomfort as mixed signals (which they are) and possibly dislike. For example, when I like an INFJ/anyone, ,I go through a phase where I cannot make eye contact and I’m basically ignoring whoever it is I like. Often times, this has been interpreted as the common, ‘just kidding, i don’t actually like you that much’. INFJs read into all signals, and ENTP signals are hard to read. 

So there are places where heads butt with these two types… though it’s pretty obvious here that I’m head over heels for an INFJ right now. So sorry about that. The overall answer to your question is that with INFJs, there is a similarity in thinking so that at least for me, it’s not difficult dealing with differences. Sensitivity and caring is a bit annoying but overall it’s just a question of whether or not you want to be open to it. I’ve had to grow a bit between each INFJ relationship– but to be honest, if you’re not feeling it, it’s totally fine because we’re all different! Also, I am 5000% percent biased on this. I’m so biased. 

anonymous asked:

"ompletely depending on whether my hunch is right and they really are winding down the narrative" don't we already already know that that's not the case? They said the show isn't ending and many years left. Or is this refering to something else can you "wind down the narrative" without ending the show?

Hello lovely Nonny!

Okay, so, when it comes to what they’re saying I think they know and we know that anything can happen. And we know that they know that we know that we should take whatever they say with fistfuls of salt. And they know that we know… oh, my God, why did I start doing that? That’s just confusing. 

They say they want to keep going for years? I say awesome

I say I am in it for the long haul. No matter fucking what I will stand by my faith in the fact that these writers know what they’re doing. So they want to drag this sonofabitch out until doom’s day? FUCK. YES. Bring-it-on. 

But that said, it’s also my absolute faith in them knowing what they’re doing that sort of underlines my belief that they’ve built this peak they’re breaching with the S12 finale and that they’ve built it for a reason.

12x22 and 12x23 provided a huge turning point for the narrative.

Each of our three main characters - and Dean may be our protagonist, but the narrative still circles three main characters - are standing on thresholds here:

Originally posted by 4-ever-destiel

  • The brodependency has lapsed because Dean put his faith in Sam’s individual abilities to lead.
  • Sam has stepped out of Dean’s shadow, out of the role of “follower” and into the role of Leader.
  • Cas is… well, very dead. But is poised for rebirth, for transformation.

And why is this important?? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MATTER?

Happy you ask. (you asked) (shut up)

The narrative up until 12x22 has been focused on what?

Well, mostly the focal point has been the brodependency, and with good reason, right? The show is about the brothers Winchester.

But let us never forget this —> Dean’s character growth is linked - without question - to his feelings for Cas. 

Keep reading

What People Don't Understand About "Cluke"

I would like to make the 100% clear to anyone before reading this mini-rant that IN NO WAY DO I SHIP CLEMENTINE AS AN 11-YEAR-OLD with Luke. Pedophilia is messed up to the millionth degree. However, this doesn’t mean I don’t ship it in 6-7 years when Clem is a young adult and old enough to a) be in a relationship and b) make mature decisions on her own. Because at that point, I would completely ship it.

Let’s start at the beginning with your concerns. A very good place to start:

Concern #1: Why are people even considering this ship? What caused this ship to even set sail?

This was a pretty easy one. Luke and Clem had a pretty great relationship from the get-go. A strong brother-sister bond. Luke seems to really respect her as a member of the group and not just a dumb little girl. He is the only one of Clem’s new group to do this, and that got many to take notice. Whether it’s a brOTP or a ship, people love this relationship because it’s genuine and the two seem to suit each other in a non-pervy, natural way. The dialogue flows, the fun is there, and let’s be honest, we all sort of have a crush on Luke, so that’s a factor for us playing as Clem. 

We see the potential. We like the relationship. Age becomes a non-issue after your teenage years in the ZA. So do we think it’s possible for this friendship to go further after a couple of years? Well, why not? Everything for a strong relationship is in development.

Concern #2: How about that age gap?

Firstly, even in the world today, age really doesn’t play much of a role in relationships once two people are consenting adults. People “click” based on their opinions and maturity levels, and Clem’s maturity is off the charts. From my personal life, my aunt and uncle are 22 years apart and very much in love. Age has never been a problem for them. They have two gorgeous kids and just work together.

I could see a similar situation with Luke and Clem who just seem to get each other. Although the ship is strictly platonic now, it would be unreasonable to think that nothing at all would crop up between them in the future. In the Zombie Apoc, age matters EVEN LESS. At max, Luke might be 15-16 years older than Clem, but in a world where happiness is rare and choices for partners are limited, people in the same groups can’t help considering each other. Clem is a strong young lady, and one day when she’s older, partnering up with someone who fits that personality type wouldn’t be a bad idea. 

Concern #3: Wouldn’t it be pretty nasty if Luke wanted to hook up with a kid?

Of course it would! But the Cluke shippers (at least the rational ones) are hoping for a relationship between Clem and Luke in the future, NOT CURRENTLY. Those who want a relationship NOW are SICK IN THE HEADS, to put it mildly. 

Luke has no *shudders* attraction to Clementine right now. None. NONE PEOPLE. He loves her because he wants to look after her and finds her to be a really cool kid with a good head on her shoulders. I’m pretty sure if Cluke ever happened in a reasonable way, Clem would have to be nearing her twenties. I’m sure Luke would feel pretty uncomfortable about his feelings at first and Clem might have to initiate. But it would be a slow-burn sort of thing. Something that grew out of respect and admiration, not after, what I like to call, “the other half of Tumblr” lust or sexual urges…

The two of them are both too level-headed and rational to ever do anything “flingy”. If it happened, it would be a partnership. They’d look out for each other. Sort of like a ZA marriage of sorts. The group would be in on it and grow to accept it. It’s a new world order, and sometimes, love happens whether you see it coming or not.

Concern #4: Still! It’s pretty weird ending up dating someone you knew when they were a kid!

Yeah. I think Luke would kind of struggle with this, I can’t lie. He’s a level-headed person, like I said above. Even considering a relationship with Clem at any point would probably make him feel like a huge perv and put him into massive denial. He’d insist she was like his sister and nothing was going on, even if there was obvious chemistry, because that’s just his character. You can’t write Luke to be a pervy, childish pedo, because it doesn’t line up with what we know about him up to this point. Luke would probably really beat himself up over even the mildest attraction and try to put it completely out of his mind.

Clem, on the other hand, might be more able to move past this because of the time she’s growing up in. Whether she ever had crushes on him as a girl, as a young adult, Clem wouldn’t be as reluctant to consider the possibility. To her, Luke hasn’t changed at all, she’s just learned to love him more and maybe in different ways.

Concern #5: Luke’s probably not gonna last the season.

Don’t remind me. I love him too much.


These two have some growing-up to do together before one can even consider this a potential relationship. Most of what the Cluke shippers hope for is a good story and a lot of character development at the moment, and a relationship in a few years when Clem’s an adult. It’s not impossible. It’s not unreasonable. Things happen. Luke’s an awesome guy. Clem’s an awesome girl. I personally think they could be pretty happy together some day, as unlikely as it is that Luke lives to see that day. He’s a really nice guy with all the right stuff, and normally that means he has to die. I’m hoping that this time I’m wrong, but this is twd. No one’s ever really safe.

Cluke shippers see the potential for a great partnership on so many levels. It’s not as pervy as you might think. It could happen very naturally with time and age. Just like real life, people come together for all different reasons in all different circumstances. 

And most importantly, don’t hate on Luke. Poor guy doesn’t even have the first clue what us crazy fans have been scheming about. Appreciate him at face value! Telltale made him an awesome character. Hope this helps explain things!

Peter Pan - Ashton Irwin (Disney!5sos)

Requested - yes


A/N: Guys this was the one that gave me the inspiration for the entire disney!5sos series ahh I’ve been looking forward to this one.

Character comparison ~ 
Peter Pan :: Ashton
Wendy :: [Y/N]
Lost boys :: Care kids
Captain Hook :: Mr Hook

Word Count - 2536


‘Neverland’ care home, the place at the center of endless rumors and gossip but also your new work place. Truth be told you probably made up most of the stories about the house, like how the kids don’t go to school and live like animals with no rules, or how the whole place isn’t actually a car home but instead a mental institution but none the less you’re not keen on working there. When you became a social worker you expected to be placed somewhere like Everbrook house or Appletree orphanage but nope you got given the home shrouded in mystery.

The day before your placement you were given a little information on the home, there are 6 kids, 3 boys and 3 girls, and the only worker there is a boy, only a little older than you, called Ashton. Anyone who’s been sent there has requested to be moved after a week due to the 'unorganized chaos’ in the place, you, on the other hand are determined to last.

You walk along the pavement and arrive at the gate in front of the large house, it clicks open and you walk into a gorgeous but jungle like front lawn. There’s a clear path up to the door which you follow and knock. You hear a lot of clicking and the door eventually creaks open and you see a small girl with a rabbit hat stood in front of you.

“Hi, I’m [Y/N] the new social worker, is there any adults here?” you ask but she just stares at me. “No? Where’s the guy in charge?”

She’s still silent until she suddenly turns her head and yells, “Ashton!”

“Oh right,” you say as she turns and runs off.

You step into the lobby and see a pair of twins with what looks to be raccoon hats on their heads rush past. Just then a tall boy with hair that looks like a mess of curls come out, Ashton.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi, I’m [Y/N] the new social worker,” you say but he screws his face up at you.

“Just give me a second,” he excuses himself and you watch as he turns away, raises his hands to his mouth and makes a ca-cawing noise before yelling, “Games on pause until further notice”

That’s when a chubby boy with a bear hat gets out from the cupboard under the staircase.

“Game?” you question.

“Mass hide and seak, why did you say you were here?” he questions.

“I’m the new social worker the council have sent,” you answer.

“Ok right, well thanks but we don’t need anyone else we’re getting on just fine here on our own,” he says.

“Well you don’t really get a choice in that, I’m here whether you like it or not,” you state.

He sighs, “Fine, come this way”

He leads me to a room that used to be marked office but now says den.

Inside there are piles of unopened letters, paperwork and such which makes me almost stop dead in my tracks but he makes me take a seat on a beanbag.

“Right I need to run you through the rules of this place,” he says.

“I was under the impression there weren’t any,” you laugh but he isn’t amused.

“No we take our rules seriously, there is to be no bullying, serious violence and whatever they say goes to an extent, they are to always be having fun and they’re never to grow up, adults aren’t allowed around here which is why nibs wouldn’t talk to you”


“I’m the leader around here. Do you have any questions?" 

"No, but can I meet the kids?” you ask.

He nods swiftly and exits ca-cawing again the hallway. There’s the sound of 6 sets of feet and they all gather in the lounge where you follow.

“Meet…” Ashton begins but stops. “What was your name again?”


“Meet [Y/N], and [Y/N] meet Slightly, Cubby, the Twins, Nibs and Tootles,” he introduces.

You furrow your brow and reach into your bag to pull out a sheet of paper, “So it’s Emma, James, Eddie and Angela, Jessie and Albie?”

They all have blank faces until Ashton says, “We don’t use those names”

“Oh, okay well I will do all I can to get you out of this place with parents,” you say.

“But we don’t want to leave,” Cubby says.

“Why not, don’t you want a mum and dad?”

“Ashton’s our dad,” Nibs squeaks.

“And you’re our new mum,” the twins say.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say but they don’t seem to note your addition.

Seeming to like this idea, Ashton says, “All for [Y/N] being our new mother say 'aye’”

“Aye!” they chorus.

Ashton’s even more of a kid than the kids themselves.

It becomes evident over the following day or so that there is no order in this house, you are required to remain at the house so you get to see the daily schedule for them. They wake up when they want, apparently school is optional though encouraged, currently it’s summer so they have nothing to worry about. Breakfast could be anything from pancakes to cereal but after that the kids are allowed to roam free, the kitchen remains stocked and they are allowed to eat what they want, when they want and dinners are usually microwave meals or take out. The house is always noisy but, most worrying to me, none of the paperwork gets done, so that’s where I decide to start.

“Keep the kids busy and out of my way and I’ll stay in the offi- den doing the paperwork, maybe I can make a dent in that mess,” you say.

Ashton agrees and you start on your work.

This isn’t want you planned for when you became a social worker, you wanted to be hands on and make a difference, not end up stick with all the paperwork. To your surprise you get about half done and call it a day, only 6pm, so you go to find Ashton.

“What’s for dinner?” you question.

“Isn’t that the mother’s job?" 

"Sexism, okay, what would you plan on serving for dinner?” you rephrase.

“It’s monday, so pizza,” he says.

“Okay, homemade pizza it is”

You know he’d have ordered pizza but you know how to make pizza so you can at least give them something home made.

“Dinner,” you call once it’s done.

No response, then you remember what Ashton had done, so you attempt the ca-cawing noise and they come running. They tuck in like they haven’t seen food in weeks, it’s ridiculous, even Ashton does.

Days pass and you finish the paperwork and manage to spend a little more time with Ashton watching how he deals with the kids; if they have problems he’s the first one they run to, if they want something he is the one they ask for permission and if there are any disputes they are settled by him. Despite his total lack of organisation he is really good with the kids.

“Want to play?” he asks all of a sudden making you jump

You didn’t think he’d noticed your presence behind him but he obviously had, the 6 sets of eyes in the circle of kids turn to you.

“What are you playing?” you question, feeling 10 years younger hearing the words leave your lips.

“Hide and seek, Cubby’s seeking first,” Ashton says.

“Why does Cubby always have to seek?” Cubby says, speaking in third person.

You agree but as you set off to hide Ashton grabs your hand.

“I know the best hiding spot,” he says.

“Aren’t we meant to hide separately?” you question as he pulls you along.

“We’re parents we have to work as a team,” he says.

You follow him through the house and eventually up to the attic.

“The kids are scared of the attic,” he says.

“Why don’t the kids use their real names?” you ask.

“It reminds us that the people who gave them those names are gone,” he says.

“Tell me something about the kids,” you say.

“Well, Slightly is my second in command, I’d trust her with my life, Cubby is helpless, the twins are are inseparable, Nibs is a little angel and Tootles goes days sometimes months without speaking,” Ashton says, obviously trying not to end up rambling.

You can tell just from the way his eyes light up how much he loves these kids and it fulls you with a sense of privilege to be a part of this odd little family. 

You’d be lying if you said that over the course of about a week you didn’t form a fairly strong crush on Ashton and you were lead to believe he felt the same bit everything went wrong with a single phone call.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hi, is that Neverland house?" the person says.

"Yes, how can I help?” you question.

“This is Croc agencies, we have run a search and come up with a possible foster match for Emma Fox who I believe is in your care." the person continues.

"Emma Fox? Oh, slightly! You found her a match?" 

"Yes Mr and Mrs Simpson, we were wondering if we could email you the details and run the idea by her," they say.

"Yeah I will totally ask her about it,” you say. “Thank you for calling”

As soon as you hang up you go and find Ashton.

“Ash, you’ll never guess what, just happened,” you exclaim.

“What?” he smiles at your excitement.

“Someone found a match for Slightly, she could be getting fostered,” you keep the same tone.

“That’s great, but no,” Ashton’s face falls.

“Why? I know you’ve got this attachment to her but this is her chance to have a normal life,” you try to persuade.

“What makes you think she wants that, I’ve promised these kids I’ll never force them to grow up, I’ll never leave them,” he says.

“Ashton I know you think you’re doing the best for them but you can’t keep them here for ever, they’re going to have to leave at some point,” you tell him, trying not to get angry at him.

“I can and I will! I run this place and the kids like it here, they’re never going to leave me and if you don’t like it you can leave!”

His final out burst makes your blood boil so you scream, “I will!”

And you leave without any of your stuff. Out of anger with Ashton you get an idea, it may be slightly extreme but you feel you have no other choice, so you contact the people at Croc agencies.

Back at the home Ashton is sat thinking things over in the lounge, he does really like you, and I mean really like you but he feels like if anything starts anything with you’ll he’d be abandoning the kids, and as you saw from his refusal to let Slightly go, he’s pretty attached to them. He does feel really bad for yelling at you, though.

“Ash?” the twins poke their heads around the door.

He smiles at them, “Come on in”

“Where did [Y/N] go? She was our new mum,” they say walking in followed by Nibs.

“I yelled at her and she left,” he tells them.

“But we liked her,” Nibs says. “We thought you’d get together”

“I couldn’t do that to you guys, that’s a grown up thing,” he says.

“But we all want you together,” the twins say.

“You did?”

You come back to the house to gather your things but as soon as you see Ashton talking to Nibs and the twins you have to stop, so you take a seat on the stairs. That’s when tootles comes up beside you.

“Hey Tootles, hows it going bud?” you say but he just smiles at you. “Still not talking? Well that’s probably good since ’m leaving and I don’t want you to start trying to persuade me to stay. Ashton doesn’t want me here and I’ve done something pretty bad, I just don’t think this place is good for you guys in the long term. So this’ll be goodbye”

“But you make this place better,” Tootles suddenly says, taking you by surprise.

“Hey you talked,” you grin. “What do you mean by that?”

“You and Ash are the closes to parents we have, you’re a great team,” he says.

You smile, “You know you might have just persuaded me to stay,” but then you realize you’ve made a big mistake. “And in that case I need to talk to Ashton”

You stand and got to get him, “Uh, Ash can I talk to you?”

“Oh of course, you guys don’t mind giving us a little space,” he shoos the three kids and you let them out the door. “I thought you’d left for good”

“I was going to but I had a little conversation with Tootles and he got me to stay,” you say.

“Good,” he smiles. “What did you need to tell me?”

“Well, I’ve made a mistake, and you need to promise not to get angry, I was mad at you and I didn’t mean it,” you say.

“What did you do [Y/N]?” he’s very serious now.

“I may have reported you to Croc,” you say.

“You what? [Y/N] that could get us shut down!” he yells.

“I know and I’m sorry, but I think we can get this place looking enough like a care home before they send a representative,” you say.

“How long have we got?”

“A week”

His eyes widen, “Well we’d better get to work”

You formulate a plan, you need to get them into a schedule with healthy meals and good bedtimes, you need to get them acting fairly normal and most importantly you need the place to look like any regular care home, easier said than done.

It takes a whole lot of effort but eventually you feel confident that you might pass the inspection and then the day of the inspection arrives and you gather the kids in the hall.

“Right, we need you to do one thing, we need you to go by your real names, only for today, so Slightly - Emma, Cubby - James, Twins - Eddie and Angela, Nibs - Jessie and Tootles - Albie, understand,” Ashton says and they all nod, “Okay scatter”

You answer the door when someone knocks, “Hello I’m Mr Hook from Croc”

“Nice to meet you I’m [Y/N],” you introduce yourself.

“I have to say I was happy when you complained, I’ve been trying to get this place shut down for ages, the agency said if I’m wrong one more time they’ll fire me”

“Well, I may have been wrong with my complaint,” you say.

“Well we’ll see about that”

You and Ashton are nervous the whole way through the inspection and at one point you’re breathing so heavily that Ashton has to take your hand to calm you down.

Mr Hook leaves without saying anything which you take as a good thing and even better a week later you hear he’s been fired, I guess you guys succeeded.



  • psychic: *reading my mind*
  • me: here we go, the whiskering begins. gimme your face. no pressure. nose pressure ahahahhaha pa ching and pa zam. your nose is quite a nice texture today. today? that face is not helping. no, no, no, no. how do I look? pretty great. fabulous. aw aw. whiskening achieved. let's answer some Qs. that's an X. you had one job, phil. *clapping* what happens in the basement of google? it's where vloggers are born. mother. would you rather have barbed wire eyelashes, ow, or grass hair? uh, grass hair. why? get a tiny mower, different style everyday. brrr brrr brrr. is canada real? uh, no. it's a fictional country, isn't it? I was aboot to say. *finger snapping* advertise the item closest to you in the most disturbing way you can. it's actually a pair of my underwear which was on the floor. that is your underwear? oh my god. underwear? watch out for an under-scare! disturb not make the worst pun ever. sorry. do a creepy face! *dramatic music* oh wow, that's horrific *weird noises* nooo, no no no no. phil, sing the first song that comes into your head in a scottish accent. oh, I don't know what song is in my head. what the what was that? ow. rekt. no. that was like a russian no. what the fuck was that? there's a russian man in my stomach. I think phil's trying to drop hints that's he's a cannibal, guys. rrr. play tug of war with phil's stress mushroom. what is the stress mushroom? they mean this baby. no, not that. I hate that. No! *struggling* no *more struggling noises* Oh. there's wet stuff in it- OH MY GOD -what is this?-WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME? WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENED? rest in peace, disturbing mushroom. do the next question in dan's room. invent a new swear word and use it in a sentence. alright, ch-chanksplooned. alright, go on then. yeah, I chanksplooned your mom's face. do we wanna know what does chanksplooned-ok. what would be written on your tombstone? oh phil, there was never a better king of the universe. for god's sake. what's on yours, dan? ugh. dan, you're a penguin with rabies and phil, you're a mouse that's constipated. *weird noises* have a staring contest with dan while barking like dogs. whoever laughs first, wins. (?) 3, 2, 1. *barking noises* AH HA HA. y'all laughed. invent something that not one person would ever use. a bed made out of smashed glass. I wouldn't use it. fair enough. phil, sing the john cena theme while dan pretends to be john cena. *john cena theme* ow haha ow I knew that was coming *laughter* do an impression of a dying goose *weird noise* what the hell was- oh my god. *laughter* *weird noise* make a duet about ladders. ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders- who would(?) you step on them and you climb-ladders ladders ladders ladders- they're made of metal, they go up-ladders ladders ladders- if you're a fireman, they're really high. laddeeeerss. ladders ep. that's the symbol of our band. everyone put out their ladder hands. yeah, that's what the crowd's gonna be doing to our concerts. YEAH, LADDERS AH. you just broke the sound barrier. that's what happens when you go fast, you idiot. what the f- oh my god. become a season. oh oh wha what was that? oh, it's spring. you were birthing something. phil, what vegetable should be king? the op-carrot? scroll through your camera roll without looking, choose a random picture and explain the story. scroll scroll scroll STOP. I- I was witnessing nature in action. and taking sneaky photos of it, you perv. HAHAHA. what is happening in this photo? it looks like I'm in a public toilet mid-blink. wow. *bad beatboxing* dan, you're a nacho. phil, you're the salsa. make fanfic. I'm just so dry and crusty and until I just get inside you and submerged myself in your red juices. DIP ME - I can't get into myself-DIP ME DIP ME DIP ME AH DIP DIP AHH AHHH AAAHHH AHHH I'M COMPLETE MMMM MMM. stop it. let's all take a moment to just forget that happened. what is your favorite number of the alphabet? seventy-L. how dry is your wenis? wait, I know what your wenis is! ayee, ayee. it's this. mine's pretty soft. this is your wenis. let me stroke your wenis. that is a smooth wenis. tickle my wenis? *laughter* pretty soft as well. damn, guys. moisturized wenii. ah, let's just move on. let's move on. say a really unerotic word in a sexy voice and then lick your lips. exhaust pipe. OH *disgusted voice* OH I FEEL VIOLATED. concrete. *laughter* nooo. play the spoons. my grandma actually used to play the spoons so, prepare yourselves. *metal sounds* spoons. look up friendship yoga and imitate the first image. what? what the hell is that? HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THAT? so, we sit on our butts, not on our backs and make sure you're kinda like resting on your butt then feet together and then hands. reach. ah, I got one. and the other one. ow. ok. wait, wait, wait. alright now, over to the top. friendship. ow. *laughter* ow ow oh my god I pulled my leg oh oh. we have a very low friendship level otherwise that clearly would've worked. disaster. phil, reenact the photo of chris pratt and his raptors using house plants. I've got this. oh, god. here it is. ok, phil, very well done. *clapping* I'm so proud. that's pretty- you have a problem though. you seriously- I am chris plant. oh, did you just? do a trust exercise. no, no, no that's not a good idea. I'm actually scared. phil, you better-I'm gonna catch you. fall. oh my god. fall. AH OH OH MY GOD OH OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH. your scream was incredible. YOU CAUGHT ME. I did. I DIDN'T DIE. Yeah. let's end this right now. So, there we go. thumbs up for another year of phil is not on fire. I'm quite shocked that I actually lived through this video-yeah- it was quite dangerous. You can click on phil's face to subscribe to his channel or my face to subscribe to dan. or click our bellies to subscribe to danandphilgames. is that a thing? give em a little tickle. ok. also, there's loads of new stuff on dan and phil shop so check the out- check that out- there's a link below. and we will see you guys next year. yeahh. i mean, we are gonna make videos but until this, the whiskers will return- there, there will be another of this. ACHOO. uh, sorry. I think that that's a good time to end it. Goodbye. *slow motion screaming*
  • psychic: what the actual fuck
So my choir did some recruitment stuff over the summer and we had a bunch of new people show up who may join us.
  • One of them was a nine year old girl I'll call J for privacy's sake. She sat next to me with the other sopranos. I was acting autistic as heck (twisting my Tangle and rocking) because there were new people and things were a little out of sorts. I had the cutest conversation with her about autism.
  • Me: *Rocking and twisting my Tangle while I wait for practice to start*
  • J: *Keeps peeking over at me*
  • Me: *Notices she has Elsa on her shirt* Ooh, nice shirt. I like Elsa. *quietly sings the beginning of "Let It Go"*
  • J: *whispering* Me too! I really like Frozen. Wait, you watch cartoons? How old are you?
  • Me: I'm thirty-five. How old are you?
  • J: Nine. You still watch cartoons? Really?
  • Me: *trying not to laugh out loud* If anybody ever tells you you're too old for cartoons, remind that person that adults make 'em.
  • J: *Laughs* What's your name?
  • Me: Cyndi.
  • J: *Tells me her name*
  • Me: Nice to meet you, J. *notices John(choir director) sitting down at the piano, which is an environmental cue that practice is about to start* Oops, looks like we're gonna start.
  • Then choir practice got started and my conversation with J kind of fell by the wayside. I helped J find where she was supposed to look because she didn't know how to read or follow sheet music. I used my Tangle to point most of the time.
  • Later on, J approached me during the 15 minute break we had in the middle so people could use the restroom, get drinks and stretch their legs.
  • Me: *Doing major Tangle cranking and rocking during the break*
  • J: *Notices me moving and comes over*
  • J: What's that twisty red thing?
  • Me: It's my Tangle. It helps me stay calm.
  • J: Why are you moving so much?
  • Me: I'm autistic.
  • J: What's that?
  • Me: It's what makes me, me. You could say I'm a little different.
  • J: Different how?
  • Me: *Thinks a sec* It's like our music scores. See how I have an octavo and you have Xerox sheets?
  • J: Yeah.
  • Me: *Opens my octavo for a song and points to the Xeroxed copy on J's chair.* It's like this sheet music. See how they both show the same notes? Your music isn't bound like a book, so you have to hold it a little differently than I hold mine so it doesn't spill everywhere.
  • J: *Picks up her Xeroxed music and tries to hold it at just the bottom like an octavo and the papers bend backwards* Oh! Yeah!
  • Me: That's what an autistic brain is like. It's not bad or less, it just needs to be taken care of a little different.
  • J: Does autistic hurt?
  • Me: *Giggles* Only sometimes because I have sensitive hearing. Certain noises hurt my ears and I might look like somebody punched me. Every autistic person is different.
  • J: Is that why you don't look at me when we're talking?
  • Me: I am looking at you, I'm just not looking at your eyes. Most autistic people don't look people in the eyes because it feels a little bit scary. I'm looking at your face, but not at your eyes. I'm looking at *points at my own mouth* your mouth.
  • J: *Grins* You're so weird!
  • Me: Thanks! *sticks out tongue, laughs*
  • J: What's it feel like?
  • Me: Sorry, what?
  • J: What's autistic feel like?
  • Me: Hmmm... *thinking of a comparison a nine year old can relate to* ...kinda like I want to pay attention to everything at the same time, especially in places with lots of talking like this. Remember how muddled up the tenors and altos sounded when they messed up that line in the "Holy, Holy"?
  • J: *nods*
  • Me: That's what a lot of people talking can sound like to me. I can't make sense of what people are trying to say to me when there's a lot of noise. *Speaks quieter on purpose* Can you understand what I'm saying if I talk quieter than everybody else?
  • J: What?
  • Me: *smiles* I said can you understand what I'm saying if I talk quieter than everybody else? Another funny thing with me is I can think of a bunch of words to say about thinks I like or know a lot about, but I can't think of any words to say if people start discussing something I'm not interested in, like political stuff. That's when I get real quiet and start daydreaming a lot.
  • J: *gets real serious looking* Do people die from being autistic?
  • Me: Nah! Some autistic people need a lot of help with everything like eating, taking a shower or putting on clothes. Some of us, like me, can get dressed, eat and take showers, but I need somebody to drive me places because I can't pay attention to everything you have to pay attention to when you drive, I can't cook because the measurements get really confusing for me and I have trouble cleaning a messy room without some help. Lessee...some of us can't talk at all or can only say a few words-- that's called being nonverbal or nonspeaking. Nonverbal autistic people might use other ways to talk, like sign language, computers or pictures. Sometimes it can take a long time to figure out a way to communicate, but autistic people who can't talk are still smart. Not being able to talk doesn't mean somebody can't think or understand.
  • J: Ooh, okay, I'll try to remember that. What's that wiggle you're doing right now?
  • Me: *Realizes I'm rocking on my chair* The moving around I do is called stimming and it's something that helps me make sense of all this noise. I might have trouble talking if it gets too much louder in here. I may get clumsy too, so sorry in advance if I bump into you a lot. ((Clumsiness is due to my variable proprioception.))
  • J: I'll watch out so you don't fall down.
  • Me: *So amused by this cute kid* I don't think I'll actually fall, but thanks!
  • J: *sits down and picks up her folder* Did you get autistic because you hit your head?
  • Me: *rocks some more* No, people are born autistic and it's a lifelong thing. There are some quack doctors who think vaccines cause it, but they were wrong. There are other quack doctors who think it can be 'cured' but most autistic people don't want that. We're happy being who we are. Being autistic isn't bad, it's just different.
  • J: How do you spell autistic?
  • Me: Like this. *Writes it on a Post-it note and gives it to her* Now if you look it up on the internet, make sure you avoid anything by this group-- *Writes Autism Speaks on the Post-it too* --because they want you to think being autistic is a bad, scary thing when it's not. They want to make it go away because they think people who can't talk or take care of themselves are suffering when they aren't.
  • J: That's so mean!
  • Me: Yeah! They're mean! Anything that has to do with lighting it up blue and blue puzzle pieces is related to Autism Speaks. That wannabe charity is bad news for autistic people. Autism Speaks makes us feel bad about being who we are. *Writes "Autism Speaks is mean!" on the Post-it note*
  • J: *puts Post-it note in her pencil case* I won't click anything by them.
  • Me: Great! You're already helping me a lot by avoiding Autism Speaks. Oops, here comes John. Breaktime's over.
  • John: Doing okay with all the noise, Cyndi?
  • Me: Yup! *Tips folder by accident, drops my music EVERYWHERE* Aaaaaaaaaand there's me being a klutz.
  • J: Oops! *Helps me pick it up*
  • Me: Thanks.
  • Then we went back to practice. I was this kiddo's first encounter with autism and I hope she stays around with the choir so she sees it's not a horrible person-stealing disease.

anonymous asked:

Forgive me if i seem slow, but i still don't understand the kudos/hits thing. I know having lots of kudos is a good thing, but isn't it more important that a lot of people actually read the fic? Like, for example, if a story has 15,000 hits, that means a lot of ppl read it. What's it matter if they leave kudos if you can clearly see the story has a strong readership and lots of comments? I guess i'm asking why kudos matter so much when a story's viewer count and comments are so high?

Hi, and it’s okay. Happy to explain, to the best of my understanding.

Hits don’t really tell a writer anything. All those hits could very well be people who clicked through to read, decided not to, and closed the window. Just because a lot of people click through doesn’t mean any of them actually read it all the way through, or even enjoyed it.

I’ve done this. Seen a link to a story that looked interesting only to then see one of the tags is a major Nope Issue for me and closed the window without reading a single word. Some Super Popular fics are like that. I mean, I’m probably responsible for at least 2 or 3 clicks through to T&S, but I never got past the first chapter as far as reading goes. Not my thing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, as I said in that other post you’re probably referring to here, multiple hits can come from one single reader. I mean, I’m one of those awful people who opens fics up in tabs to read later (I have nine currently open please save me from myself :P). Any time I close Chrome and it reloads, it generates another hit. On fics I haven’t even READ yet.

The proof of this is if you check your “History.” It says in a little grey bar below the fic when it was last viewed, if there have been updates to the fic since you viewed it before, and how many times you’ve viewed it (i.e. generated a hit on it). For example, this is a fic I read about 20 minutes ago, Stay, by @randomdestielfangirl. (go read it, it’s a lovely little 12.02 coda!)

But here’s the info on a fic I’ve had open in a tab for about a week:

I’ve only “opened” it once, but I had to close Chrome for various reasons (computer updates, whatever) and every time it’s reloaded, it generated another hit.

And here’s the one on The One With The Fanfic Competition, which is WIP by @tenoko1.

SEVENTEEN HITS? JUST FROM ME? Because not only have I read each of the 7 chapters (so far) when they were published, I’ve also opened it a few other times to comment, reply to comments back from the author, to get the link to give to other people, etc. All of those actions generated hits. So a hit count is a WILDLY inaccurate measurement of whether or not people are even reading or enjoying your work.

As far as comments go, most people who read do not leave comments. Some people are just shy and nervous about saying anything. Some people just don’t know what to say and are worried the author won’t appreciate yet another “I LOVE THIS STORY THANKS!” Kind of comment (hint: we love those kinds of comments). Some people don’t have time, or read it on a mobile device or a kindle and just… never get around to coming back and leaving a comment later (which, again would generate another hit that doesn’t really mean anything anyway).

And that’s OKAY! I mean, I get that! I don’t even leave comments on everything I read. Sometimes I just can’t for whatever reason. BUT AO3 IS AWESOME BECAUSE THERE IS A ZERO EFFORT OPTION HERE!

Like the thing? Read it all the way through? CLICK THE BUTTON TO SAY THANK YOU.

It’s ridiculously easy. It requires no interaction with the author. But every day AO3 generates an email with a list of all our stories that received kudos in the previous 24 hours. THAT IS LIKE MY DAILY CUP OF COFFEE AS A WRITER.

Hits are meaningless. Knowing someone actually read all the way to the end of the story, didn’t bail out, and hopefully enjoyed it? *CLICK*


The kudos button is the tip jar that doesn’t cost you anything. It’s the THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS button. It’s the HAVE AN INTERNET COOKIE button. It’s the I APPRECIATE THE TIME AND EFFORT IT TOOK YOU TO CREATE THIS FOR MY ENJOYMENT button. Heck, it could just be the I ABSORBED ALL THE WORDS ON THIS PAGE WITH MY EYEBALLS button. We don’t really care how you think of it, but to the writer who spent hours/days/weeks/months writing that story you just read and enjoyed 100% free of charge, it’s kind of a dick move not to spend half a calorie worth of energy to click the lil heart button.

My dcbb this year (shameless self-promotion time! If you like fun, go read it.) has close to 2000 hits. Which is pretty good, because yeah it’s a really long story, and I know not everyone has the time to read a Really Long Story, but so far it has 98 kudos. So out of 2000 times it’s been opened, apparently only 98 people were appreciative enough of the fact that I spent six months writing them a novel-length story (101k words) that I charged them nothing to read, ONLY 98 OF THEM THOUGHT MY EFFORT WAS WORTH A WIGGLE OF A FINGER TO PRESS A BUTTON. It’s… kinda disheartening as a writer, you know?

Yeah, it’s also got 113 comments (and I AM SO SORRY I AM TERRIBLE AT RESPONDING TO COMMENTS Y’ALL I SWEAR I’M GETTING AROUND TO IT SOONER OR LATER!), which is incredible, but I don’t expect every reader to comment on every chapter. A “Nice job!” is nice to get once in a while, but really that’s what the kudos button was invented for. It’s SO EASY. WHY WOULDN’T YOU CLICK IT?!

carreesi  asked:

I feel you : ( I feel like writing so often but then nothing inspires me enough to give me words, if that makes sense? OKAY prompts. How about Grantaire who finds his ancient game boy plus Pokemon blue edition and Enjolras who still has his red one?

e/R | nerdy flirting

The lime green Game Boy Color clunks to the floor, narrowly missing Grantaire’s foot, and he blinks. Huh. He hadn’t expected to find that in the bread bin. He’s not even sure why he has a bread bin.

Then again, he’s moved house several times in the last few years, and this is the first place big enough that he’s actually unpacking the boxes he’d packed up, instead of stuffing them under the bed, so his memory is rather hazy as to what is stored where.

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#940: The baby sleeps on his chest.
  • Louis: His team just scored a goal and he should really, really, really be shouting exploits and nearly spilling over his beer but he can't, because he has a baby on his chest, and it's his own. So he does a little happy dance in his head and cups the baby a little tighter to his chest, smoothing his fingers over her barely-there-hair until he's whispering, "I'll take you a game one day, yeah, and you'll be the coolest girl in school and all the guys will be shocked at by how much you know about football and you can kick their as... butts." He doesn't know what he's saying or why he's saying it, but he's all smiles, even up until later when you make grabby hands at the baby so you can put her to bed. "Just a little bit longer, dear," he says with a smirk, indicating towards the spot of the couch by his feet, "Come sit with your husband and future baller." You roll your eyes and he imagines his daughter would have done the same, and you two are so alike, and he loves both of you so much, it's almost insane. The three of you spent the rest of the evening; you giggle and he smiles, and your baby girl sleeps, and it'll be like this for years.
  • Niall: It was your stew that totally threw him off balance. He can be found a half an hour later (after helping you with the dishes, of course, he's not a fucking idiot husband at that) sprawled against the couch, one hand behind the head of his son and the other used to click up and down through the T.V. channels. He's murmuring some words to his son, really just mentioning highlights of the earlier match, knowing he can't respond but hoping that one day where he can comes soon. He drums his fingers lightly against the little one's back to a song he used to sing all the time and he's trying to remember what it was like as a young one for himself. His eyes drift over to where you perch, flipping through one of those sappy novels he can't help but to roll his eyes at, and wonders what it would be like if he had been raised in another way with a lack of love and affection. "Hey, babe," he calls out, and his voice sounds very, very, very far away to him. "I love you." The blood is moving throughout his body and it buzzes all over. He thinks that maybe his son can hear his heartbeat racing, even when he's asleep on him.
  • Liam: He was frantically thinking of songs to sing in his head as his new born screamed his head off and wailed for attention and to be held, please, which he would have said just like his dad with big brown puppy eyes had he known how to talk at a month old. And Liam isn't exactly the best with children (although he's been a pretty good dad thus far, and he's better at holding one than Niall, which says a lot) and the only thing he really knows how to do is sing; so he does, the first few notes of 'Torn', because it fits and it's pretty and it gets his son to close his mouth and stare up at his father with big, bold, loving eyes and Liam swears he's never seen anything more beautiful or delicate. He keeps singing, resting the baby on his chest, lying back slightly until he's more comfortable; and he cradles his son's head, rubbing his fingers over every bald spot and never stopping to do anything but sing. "Love you, buddy," he murmurs, kissing his forehead over and over again until he's sure his lips are there permanently. There is no more crying. Just peace.
  • Zayn: It was her favorite place to lie, right above his abdomen and slightly underneath his heart, her ear resting aloft his heartbeat. She was at peace there; no more waking up screaming at six months old with a fever and coughing fits, her little body shaking all over. Here, she was content, the little bonnet covering her head when she was cold and her dad holding her when she mewled in her sleep, little fingers grappling to hold onto his jacket or sleep shirt. "I don't even know why we still own a crib," you make notice, raising your eyebrows at him in nothing but pure affection, "I am warning you, that if she can't sleep in her own bed when she's older, and would much rather sleep with mum and dad, I'm blaming you, and you'll never hear the end of it." He smiles back at your teasing tone and beckons you closer, keeping a safe hold on the baby so she won't jostle around when he leans up to kiss your nose. "Of course," he replies softly, "But she's going to be okay either way. I'll make sure of it." He looks down at her and brushes his lips over her forehead. "No more bad dreams, huh, babygirl?"
  • Harry: "Sorry, not trying to be rude, but could you keep it down, please? The baby is asleep upstairs." Three weeks after his healthy daughter's birth, he was already thrown into overprotective father mode and was desperately trying to keep the celebration as quiet as it could go without pissing your family off too much. (He didn't want to be seen as the husband that lacked concern for the guests' contentedness, although that is basically who he was, since nothing mattered but you and his baby now.) Either way, he just can't seem to shake off the irritation, and leaves the party after kissing your cheek softly and promising he'd be right back. His body leads him upstairs to the nursery (frilly and pink and bright -- you insisted, and he happily complied because he loves you) and he's cradling his baby girl before he knows it and lounging back on the rocking chair as she curls up delicately on his chest. "Hey, you," he murmurs softly, in a little cooing, baby voice, "Daddy's right here." That's where you find him -- in the exact position -- forty minutes later; and they're both asleep, him holding her protectively.
Not In That Way. A Gail x Holly songfic.

Instructions : 1.Go listen to this song (even if you’re not going to read this go listen. You’ll thank yourself later!) 2. Then read :)

A/N: This is quite possibly my favourite song ever I couldn’t stop thinking about Gail and Holly when I listened to it so I wrote a thing. 

A/N 2: Italics are lyrics. I do not own this song. It belongs to Sam Smith.

‘Gail, c'mon, it’s gonna be great!’

'Chloe, it’s kareoke, it is most definitely going to be terrible’

'Holly’s going to be there, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to sing!’

'Holly can sing?’

'Gail are you kidding? Holly is the best singer I know, we used to go camping with all our friends when we were in high school and Holly always brought her guitar and would sing for us. Sometimes she even wrote her own songs. It was amazing’

'I’ve never heard her’

'Gail then you have to come!  I know you like Holly more than you like me, even though I am the mutual friend so you should both want to be my best friend not each others, but you guys clearly get on really well and I want to go out with my friends so please come and I will deal with my insecurities that you guys are going to freeze me out and make me the third wheel’.

'Well fine. I suppose I can make it if Holly’s going to be there. But you should probably invite some other people for when we abandon you’

'Wow thanks Gail’ Chloe responds with a deadpan expression.

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