i have no idea if i can do the rest but thought i'd do something for this one

maxwellandlovelace  asked:

Hey! My birthday is March 25 (the big 3-0). I love smutty!everlark (preferably rated E) and Peeta in a uniform. That would be an awesome present, but I'd be happy with anything=) I think you're doing such a great job with this blog. It's a wonderful idea!<3

Originally posted by omgitslish

Grattis på födelsedagen!! Wishing you a wonderful birthday @maxwellandlovelace. To help you celebrate in style, the always incredible @katnissdoesnotfollowback has written this wonderful slice of Everlark, just for you!

All’s Fair

WARNINGS: RATED M for mild language, immature pranks, and smut. Everlark college/military cadets AU. ;-)


“You sure you know how to pick one of these things?”

“Yep,” I whisper as I continue to work quietly. Not as fast as I’d like since my hands are shaking.

“Damn, Everdeen, where’d you learn to pick a lock?”

“Senior prank in high school,” Gale explains to them quietly. “I hotwired the principal’s car and she picked the lock on the hockey rink so we could park it on the ice.”

“Nice,” Mitchell says.

“You scare me, Everdeen,” someone else mutters. A third snorts in response and Gale reminds them to keep their eyes open.

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When everyone asked about the first time you and Harry met, for some reason, they’d always assume it was a cutesy, romantic ‘our hands brushed and our eyes met’ kind of story. You didn’t know why that was the case, but it was far from the truth. Very, very far from the truth. The first time you and Harry met was a complete and total trainwreck, and it embarrassed you to think about it, but then again, here you were two years down the line and Harry somehow still wasn’t tired of you! 

“I know, Lou! I’m really sorry, I promise I set an alarm last night but I think I might’ve turned it off this morning because it was loud and annoying and- Yes, I’ll be there soon. Give me like ten minutes max.” 

It was the first day of being Lou’s assistant and you were pretty sure she wanted to fire you. You were sure this job wasn’t going to be sticking with you for long because of two significant reasons. It wasn’t just because you were running late with the new clothes for the boys and you hadn’t picked up the coffees and smoothies yet, it was also because you had no bloody idea as to what the hell you were doing. You might’ve lied on your resumé a little bit and said you were experienced with all the knicks and knacks of the world of fashion, but… Well, you hadn’t had a job in two months! You were desperate! And so, when the opportunity of being Lou Teasdale’s assistant came up… You couldn’t help yourself. Of course, it wasn’t just the perfect resumé that landed you the position. You hated to brag, but you thought you were quite the charmer! Very witty and you knew how to bring a smile to any grumpy person. 

“Okay, lemme see. Green smoothie and YSL for Harry. Black coffee and Versace for Zayn and Liam…” You muttered to yourself, trying to balance while holding five bags of clothes in one hand and a whole tray of drinks in the other. “Vans for Louis? Or was it Converse? Might be Converse. Is he the one who wears Timberland boots?” You probably looked crazy, wandering around the streets of New York muttering things to yourself. “No, no. Niall wears Vans. I’m sure!” You’d figure it out sooner or later. 

“Where have you been? We were supposed to start trying the clothes out half an hour ago, love. Time is precious!” You winced at Lou’s shrill voice before shooting her a sheepish smile and handing her her tea. “Boys, this is Y/N. She’ll be helping me with… Well, whatever I need.” 

“Hi.” You puffed out, giving everyone a friendly wave before taking note of Harry. He was looking at Niall and giving him a very ‘Who the hell is this?’ expression. You understood the judgment. You did barge into the room with smoothie on your shirt and your sunglasses perched on at an odd angle. 

“Right, well… Here are your drinks!” You chirped, turning around to grab the tray and hand the boys their drinks. Of course, there was one little problem. “I, uh, I don’t have your smoothie though, Harry.” Harry furrowed his brows, pouting slightly as he watched the rest of the boys enjoy their coffees and teas. 

“Why not?”

“I…” You pulled your shirt down a little, pointing to the green splatter right in the middle. “Might’ve knocked it over when crossing the street. I thought I was going to get hit by a car so I ran.” 

“You don’ have t’ run when the sign tells you t’ walk.” 

“I know, but I crossed when the sign told me to stand still. I didn’t want to be late!” 

“You were half an hour late today.” 

“I could’ve been forty minutes late if I didn’t run. But because I did run, I got here a whole ten minutes earlier! Smart thinking, if you ask me.” You clicked your tongue, wanting a black hole to swallow you up at Harry’s clearly unamused expression. Maybe your charm wouldn’t get you out of this situation this time around. 


“Y/N, tha’s my favourite shirt!” Harry whined, letting out a huff at the sight of his Rolling Stones tee with a brand new stain on it. You set the now empty coffee mug back down on the counter and stood up, grimacing at the feeling of wet cotton sticking to your skin. 

“Sorry… but don’t worry about it! Everyone will see the stain and you’ll become a trendsetter. I think it’s a look.” You pointed out, Harry rolling his eyes before walking over to you with a damp cloth. “Wiping it isn’t going to help.” 

“What do you suggest then, smartass?” Harry scoffed, gently dabbing at the stain and letting out a scowl. 

“You let me keep this shirt and I’ll get you a new one!” You beamed, stepping forward a little when Harry pulled you closer to rub harder at the stain. 

“I’m not- You’ve stolen enough of my shirts, thank you very much. And yeh can’t just go out there and find a vintage Rolling Stones tee in bloody Forever 21 or something.” 

“I’ll get you something else, then! How about a vintage Stevie Nicks shirt?” You suggested, Harry pausing for a moment to look up at you. 

“There’s no way you can get your hands on that.” 

“Don’t doubt me.” 

“Can you get a signed one?” It was endearing how he was basically still fangirling over Stevie Nicks even though he had met her and sang with her the other week.  

“I can make it happen. Because I’m amazing and everyone loves me.” You grinned, Harry nodding slowly and pulling away. 

“A’right, fine. But if I find out you’re scamming me, that embroidered Styles shirt is going back into my dresser.”  


gif isn’t mine!

sorry pals this is not my best piece of work lol 

saemi-the-dreamer  asked:

If you are stil taking request, how about a what if? -What if JD had broken down at the sight of Veronica faking her suicide and takes his gun to shoot himself instead of going to Westerburg to blow it up? Personnally, I'd like a happy ending (even if it is bittersweet) with Veronica succeding in saving him please^^



Once she had visited Martha Dunnstock in the hospital, Veronica Sawyer walked into the Sawyer residence, weighted with guilt. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t given into the Heathers’ pressure and popularity, Martha would probably be all healed and happy and watching rented videos on the couch.

Why did I let this happen? Veronica thought as she opened the door to her house, head hanging down sadly. If I had just said no and let the Heathers torment people themselves. Martha wouldn’t have tried to commit suicide, Heather Chandler might be alive, and so would Kurt and Ram. Maybe JD wouldn’t be so psychotic. This is all my fault. I should be the one on that hospital bed, unconscious and dying. I should be the one in Hell coughing up drain cleaner. I should be the one shot to death with bullets. I should be dead. I should be–

“Where have you been?”

Veronica’s head shot up as her mom ran over and pulled her into an embrace. “We’ve been worried sick,” she said to her, cupping her face. “Your friend JD stopped by. He told us everything.”

Veronica’s stomach tied up in knots at the mention of JD. And the word “friend”, as well. The Sawyers were clueless of what happened. “… Everything?” she croaked out.

“Your depression,” her dad responded. “Your thoughts of suicide.”

Her mom thrust a copy of Moby Dick at her. “He even showed us your copy of Moby Dick.”

Veronica flipped through the pages. A lot of the most depressing parts were highlighted and scribbled with depressing words. In her own handwriting.

The Heather Chandler who was to haunt Veronica for the rest of her life suddenly appeared behind her, peering at the book from Veronica’s shoulder. “He’s got your handwriting down cold,” Heather announced, as if it weren’t obvious already.

Veronica’s mom put her hand on the book. “Please, honey. Talk to us,” she begged. Her brown eyes were filled with concern.

Veronica just turned away from her parents. “You’d never understand,” she said coldly.

“Try me!” Veronica’s mom retorted. She grabbed Veronica’s arm as a nurturing gesture. Veronica wriggled out of her mother’s touch. “I’ve experienced everything you’re going through right now. I know it all seems impossibly dramatic.”

As Veronica kept skimming through the book, Kurt, Ram, and Heather appeared behind her mother. “Guess who’s right down the block?” they asked eerily.

Veronica’s mom kept talking, but Veronica’s heart beat fast as she realized that JD was heading over. Now. She sensed someone trying to climb the outside stairs to her bedroom window.

Guess who’s climbing the stairs?” Kurt, Ram, and Heather chorused.

“… I promise, they’re not,” Mrs. Sawyer continued.

Guess who’s picking your lock?

“You don’t know what my world looks like,” Veronica growled before turning away and running up to her bedroom as fast as she could.

As she tried to find a way to escape or hide from JD, she paced around her room, looking for a place to hide herself in.

You’re crazy,” Kurt, Ram, and Heather jeered. “Are you high on shrooms? Do you actually think you can hide from him? There’s no doubt that you’re done for.

Veronica started looking for something to keep JD from coming through the window. No use. There was nothing in her room.

“Notify next of kin, Veronica. No use trying to keep him out!

Suddenly, Veronica heard her bedroom window click.

Too late! He got in.

Veronica scrambled to her closet, locking the door shut.

“Knock knock!” JD sang creepily as he stepped inside Veronica’s bedroom with his gun in his hand. “Sorry to come in through the window. Dreadful etiquette, I know.” But he didn’t sound sorry at all. He closed the bedroom window shut.

“Get out of my house,” Veronica ordered shakily through the closet door.

JD chuckled. “Hiding in the closet? Come on,” he begged, “open the door!”

“No,” Veronica responded. Her voice sounded less shaky and more calm, but she was still scared. “I’ll scream. My parents will call the police.”

JD took no notice of her threat. “All is forgiven, baby! Come on, get dressed! You’re my date to the pep rally tonight!”

“What? Why?” Veronica asked, confused. Didn’t JD hate her? Wasn’t he coming up here to kill her?

“Well, our classmates thought they were signing a petition,” JD answered proudly. He took out a piece of paper with various signatures written on it. “But you gotta come out here and see what they really signed!”

It didn’t take a genius to know that whatever they signed, it just contributed to JD’s proud sociopath personality.

“You know, you should be dead for chucking me out like trash,” JD started to say, attempting to get Veronica out. “But I had a better idea. What if high school went away instead?”

As he continued to beg for her forgiveness and explained his plan to plant a bomb inside Westerburg High and make it look like a mass suicide, Veronica looked around her cramped closet for something to drive JD away. She came across a long bedsheet. Perfect.

“We were meant to be one, Veronica!” JD continued. “I can’t do this alone! Come on out, and let’s finish what we begun!”

No answer.

“VERONICA!” he yelled. He lowered his voice to a frighteningly calmer tone. “Open the door, please. Open the door.”

No response.

“Veronica!” he said again, still calm. “Can we stop fighting? Please?”

Still nothing.

He sighed. “Look, I know you’re scared. I’ve been there. But I can set you free!”

Nothing. JD was starting to get impatient. And impatient plus JD equaled one thing.


“Veronica!” he shouted. His tranquility was starting to break. “Don’t make me come in there!” he threatened.


“I’m gonna count to three!” he warned. “One.”




“FUCK IT!” he screamed as he kicked down the door, only to see Veronica hanging from her impromptu bedroom noose.

JD suddenly fell to his knees, stunned and heartbroken. The only girl he had ever loved was hanging dead right in front of him, all because of him. “Oh… God… no…” he whispered. A single tear rolled down his cheek. “Veronica… Please don’t leave me alone… you were all I can trust…”

Suddenly, his motivation to get rid of all his classmates was gone. He was doing this all so he and Veronica could be together, and now the only place they could be together was…


“I’m so sorry, Veronica,” he sobbed as he brought himself up. “I wanted to do this for you. I’m so sorry.” He put the gun to his head and put his thumb on the trigger. “This was all for you, but if this is what you wanted…”

Out of nowhere, Veronica screamed, “NO!”

She untangled herself from her noose, ran over to JD and smacked the gun out of his hand. “No, no, please don’t,” she begged softly, taking his wrists. “I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to stop.”

“Veronica…” JD wriggled his wrists out of Veronica’s grasp to cup her face with his hand. “I’m sorry, this was all for you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into a hug and whispered apologies into her neck. Veronica felt his tears against her skin.

“Please, just stop killing people…” she begged quietly. “Please. For me.”

JD nodded, pulling back from Veronica. He kissed her forehead. “For you. Just for you.”

He held her close. “I worship you…” he muttered. “I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to stop murdering people, I will. I promise.”

With that, Veronica pulled away from him and kissed him softly, still crying. “Let’s just be seventeen, okay?” she asked against his lips.

JD nodded in agreement, this time, meaning it.

Veronica smiled, sniffling and wiping JD’s tears away from his cheeks. “Now, let’s just ditch the pep rally and go bowling. What do you say?”

JD laughed softly. “I think that’s a good idea. Can we stop by 7-Eleven first?”

“Well…” Veronica pretended to think about it. “Will you finally buy me a Big Gulp?”

JD groaned. “You’re defeating the purpose of 7-Eleven,” he teased playfully. But then he smirked. “Fine.”

Then he took her hand and they walked out of the house.

And in the words of Heather Chandler: “And they lived happily ever after.”

Car Park Confessions.

A/n: This is actually the first thing I wrote back in February when I decided to stop just imagining scenarios in my head and put them down on paper, and it was the first thing I wrote since school about eight years ago.

My other works; fluff or if your over 18 smut!

Proof read by way of a text-speech device.

Summary: Clichéd af but I think sometimes thats what you need! It’s a sort of au where Bucky is a celebrity for some reason, maybe a singer, or an actor like Sebastian, but it doesn’t really matter. Established friendship…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 3207

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, some angst and crying, but it’s alright in the end!

Three am. Too early and too late. The street lights burn your eyes as you lean on a traffic bollard outside the club, tuning out as your friends attempt to find a cab willing to take a trio of somewhat drunk party-goers with very little money. Cold hands to your cheeks startle you, and you find yourself staring into Wanda’s face.

“You okay?” You nod in answer, smiling softly. The chilly air is getting to you, and you stand up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shiver. She pulls you into a hug, resting her chin on your head, and rubbing her hands up and down your back. Another set of arms encircle the two of you, warming you considerably.

“Y/N, do you mind giving me your phone?” Natasha asks you, and you pass it over without question. “Also, there’s a bench just along here and I think we could all do with a sit down, come on.”

There’s some good natured complaining about how cold the metal seat is, but once you’re sat with your legs over Wanda’s and her head on your shoulder, you’re suddenly very tired.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” you mumble at the equally exhausted pile of limbs you’re twisted up with.

“No promises.”

A car pulling up in front of your new ‘bed’ has you jolting back awake. You’re alone on the bench, your two friends currently standing beside it talking with the driver of a very nice Audi that has you frowning as you try to place it. You sit and raise a hand to your hair in an attempt to smooth it down, before repositioning your top that has ride up your body a little too much, the exhausted sound you let out attracting attention.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Natasha grins, pulling open the side door of the car idling next to you. “Time to go home Sleeping Beauty”.

Eager to get out of the cold, and hearing your bed calling, you stumble up and slip ungracefully into the passenger seat. You reach for your seat belt and click it in place before turning to the driver and freezing.

“Hello Y/N.”

“… Bucky.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Ok I had a thought. I don't know how this works cause locker rooms and all that but WHAT IF the reason dex is so against sharing the room is because he's trans and he really wanted his own space where he didn't have to hide? (also cause he's into nursey but that's a whole 'nother thing) Just thought I'd share my little trans!dex headcanon!

Ooh a Dex headcanon! (I’m such a Zimbits persons that this is a rarity.)

Fic below the cut.

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bugheadandjughead  asked:

can you write a fic set during the drive in episode where betty and jughead are watching the movie from behind the projecter and then they end up making out and it's the cutest ever? I've had this idea ever since i saw the episode but who cares i'm lame so i'd never write it but you should because it's literally the best <333

ahhhh thank you for the prompt! 

warnings: some brief jughead sadness, a makeout scene? that’s it I think.
this is also kind of canon divergent and doesn’t exactly fit into the 1x04 plot line perfectly but eh

The night was cold. The kind of cold that bit through the thickest jackets and made anyone shake and quiver with goosebumps.

“Don’t you get cold sleeping here?” Betty said, her head against Jughead’s shoulder. A fanatic film buff, he’d originally taken the job as the projector for the Drive-In not just to save up some money, but later found solace and refuge in its surprisingly uninsulated walls.

Seriously, it was freezing.

She tried to ignore the cold and focus her attention back on the movie, trying to keep in mind that this place was designed for one person operating a projector, not for a teenaged boy to live out of. His arm was slung lazily over her shoulder, as his feet rested upon the ledge of the small opening that cast out the movie. She laced her fingers into his and smiled at the feeling of his soft lips kissing her forehead.

Betty was surprised by how much the small booth felt like a home. If she wasn’t so damn freezing, she could probably live out of this place with no complaints. She eyed the film posters on the walls and decided not to comment on the picture of a young Jughead, 10 years old at most, with his arms around a little girl with the same raven locks and silly smirk. As another wind whistled, she shivered once more, and this time, Jughead looked down at her, noticing the girl underneath his arm was cold from the wind that still made its way through the cracks and seams that lined the edges of the small room.

He got up, wordlessly, and grabbed the blanket that had been sparing him from the cold all these weeks off his bed (taking a second to kick the picture of him and Jellybean under the bed,) and wrapped it around Betty’s shoulders, as he sat back down and she nestled herself under his arm again. The night was nice, maybe he could enjoy it without the associated numbness if his conscience hadn’t been lecturing him that this was the last night he’d be spending in this drive-in, and after this, he’d pack up and be out on the streets somewhere. Don’t think about it, he urged himself. Think about something else.

He heard a joke come from the movie and heard a giggle. Betty, of course. He found himself slipping a little further under, every single time he spent a moment with her. The constant in his ever-changing, lopsided, crazy world. Don’t get too attached, he tried to think. Even the one thing he thought would remain ever-present, the Twilight Drive-In, was now closing down reminding him once again that there were no constants. Things kept changing.

As much as Jughead wanted to root for the whole white-picket-fence package, with small children playing in the front lawn as they held hands sitting on the porch swing, living their own lives of pleasant suburbia somewhere far away from the dark underside of Riverdale that was so close to swallowing the town whole, he couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last. The kisses, the attention, the affection. An eternal cynic, he couldn’t help but assume not long. One day, he’d fuck up, say something he’d regret, or worse, end up like his dad and drive her away. Maybe she was better off with someone like Archie. The boy next door with the girl next door, sounded like a page ripped right from a sickly-sweet romance novel. Buried in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed that the blonde haired girl was saying his name, prodding gently for his attention.

“Hm,” he said, not really paying attention. You idiot, he cursed at himself. Pay attention.

“Is everything okay?” He looked dazed, his eyes glazed over and a little bit empty. She couldn’t help but wonder what (likely self-destructive) thought process was going down in that brain of his.

“Well Betts, I guess I’m just internalizing that after tonight, I don’t have a home, you know?” He said, blowing a puff of white air, that dissipated into the atmosphere around him. Betty sat up.

“Let’s not worry about that for a while,” She said, kissing him on the cheek. Her lips felt soft and gentle and comforting.

“But Betty, it’s just another thing that isn’t going to stick around.” He said, turning to face her, blinking back what could only be tears. 

“Another thing?” She couldn’t help but inquire, hoping desperately he wasn’t referring to herself. She wasn’t going anywhere. “I hope you know I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“What, no! Of-of-course not, Betty-you know I would never think something like that,” He said, losing his trail of thought. He wasn’t lying to her per se. He never thought she’d leave him, he thought maybe he’d push her away. Drive her away somehow. But it would never be her fault, of course not. What’s the worst she would do? Jughead couldn’t fathom a thing Betty might do, enough so to make him leave her. She could set the world on fire and he’d be right by her side cheering her on. She stood up, looking aimlessly around the room, the blanket still held around her shoulders by one hand, the rest in a puddle of fabric on the floor.

“Jughead, I really care about you, you know that right?” She said, smiling.
“Yeah,” he said, dejectedly. She put her other hand on his cheek, a familiar and comforting action, and smiled at him. He sighed. “Yes. I know.”
“Good.” And then her lips were on his again.

Instinctively, his lips pressed back against hers with much more force, as his tongue swiped against her bottom lip as they parted, allowing him entrance. She sighed, and he tried to ignore the crazy things the sound did to him. She stumbled backward and felt his hands fly to her hips, steadying her as she felt her back press to the cold wall. But for once she wasn’t upset about it. The blanket dropped to her feet, and he pulled away for a second, looking into her green eyes with kindness and caring and a hint of something Betty couldn’t quite make out. It was dark and clearly driving his actions.

She wove her fingers into his hair, knocking off his characteristic gray beanie. His hands snaked back up from her hips to her stomach, to back around her neck, trying to angle her in a way that he could have more and more and drink her in like the only drug he could ever need. Drunk off a person who made him feel unfamiliar feelings pool in the bottom of his stomach. As he kissed a little harder, she broke herself off from him (to her own disdain as well,) and smiled against his lips. His eyes fluttered open in confusion, the moment broken.

“What, is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Betty, I don’t want this unless you do, you know that right?” He sounded small, and weak, and afraid. Like a child desperate for approval, such a stark contrast to his sensual kissing moments earlier. He was the stark image of a contradiction.

“Of course, I only stopped so I could-“ And the power dynamic was suddenly reversed, Betty gaining a newfound confidence. Her hand raised under his sweater, as he slipped off his black hoodie, their two minds working as one. The feeling of him writhing under her fingertips was so undeniably sexy, and she felt so powerful for being the one to break his cold exterior. She ran her fingers along his hipbone, and clearly, it was making Jughead feel something too, as he moaned against her lips and each kiss was filled with a little more passion and intensity. She could practically feel him tense under her touch. His hands wove their way into her soft blonde hair, down in waves instead of tied up.

He diverted his attention to her neck, moving the neckline of her sweater for better access and considered it a sign to continue when she sighed at his lips reaching a certain spot. 

“Oh my god,” She mewled, as he dropped to one knee. He lifted the hemline of her top, planting kisses all over her stomach and against her hipbone, making her think I’m so glad it was never like this with Archie, as she took a moment to peel off her shirt, making him stop and stare.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” He cursed under his breath as the couple stumbled backward and off the cold wall of the booth, stopping for only a moment when he felt their knees hit the soft foam of the old mattress he perched precariously onto a bench to use as a bed.

Just as their lips reattached, his hands just daring to move over her breasts, they heard the characteristic sound of the end credits mixed with gusts of the wind, soppy soundtrack music that didn’t make it into the movie overlaying forgotten names and words of acknowledgment. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jughead sighed, getting up and shutting off the movie, capping the lid over the front of the projector. Betty too was disappointed by the lack of his presence. She hoped the moment wasn’t over, because she had so many more ideas for the rest of the night, things that would probably make even Veronica’s jaw drop with surprise.

He returned to the bed, sitting at the edge of it, still shirtless and somehow not freezing. She smiled at him, willing herself to ignore the pangs of insecurity she had over not wearing a shirt. But it wasn’t a good girl, Betty Cooper smile reserved for her mom and friends and teachers. A sensual, intense smile that begged him to kiss her, daring him to go beyond the familiar kissing and explore something a little more heated.

“Who said end credits always have to mean the end, right?” She said, her voice dripping with lust and dark intention. And with that, Jughead found himself pressed up against Betty yet another time that night, relishing in the fact that maybe there was a constant in his ever-changing world that might not just up and leave like everything and everyone had.

I hope this didn’t like turn out totally terribly. I appreciate the prompt, and you guys can always send those in! thanks for reading!

blackenedsoul  asked:

I was just thinking about the covenants in Bloodborne and it occurred to me I don't know much about them besides the obvious, I figured I'd ask one of the lore masters their opinion. So, thoughts on their relationship with each other? (Obviously we know how the Church and the Vilebloods feel about each other) but what about the League? How do they fit in? And the Hunters of Hunters? Their duty is clear to us but what's up with the Bloody Crow? Why does he wear the garb of two covenants?


Personally, I think that the League has no ties with the Church or the town as a whole with the exception that they recruited Henryk and the Madaras Twins into their ranks. But the Twins can be barely considered ‘citizens’ if you ask me ;).

Valtr and Yamamura are Outsiders just like the player character is and Henryk being a confederate makes very little sense to me. It kinda feels like a retcon but after all, the League was patched in later so its place in the story is a bit up in the air to begin with. Nothing in the item descriptions states that Henryk is part of the League and I usually tend to consider ‘summons’ and multiplayer in general as non-canonical as far as the story is concerned. This is a personal choice and many people disagree with me on this aspect but hey, what can I do? The idea of multiple universes only adds to the complexity of an already convoluted story imho. But, let’s analyze Henryk a bit more :D

He drops the Heir Rune, which reads:

Perhaps the “Heir” is a hunter who bears the echoing will of those before him.

Which reinforces my idea that he is, in fact, one of the last surviving Old Hunters who might have joined the League at some point, (his life was tragically long, after all) but this would mean that he was hanging around both with Valtr&Friends AND Gascoigne (who is a Church Hunter) at the same time. I don’t know, is just very confusing.

The reason why I think Henryk is/was an Old Hunter is the stylistic resemblance of his set to the Old Hunter set

and the fact that all of the item descriptions that refer/are related to him put a lot of emphasis on the idea of ‘inheritance’:

Henryk’s unique yellow garb is resistant to bolt and will be of great help to any hunter who has inherited the onus of the hunt. [Henryk’s Hunter Garb]

Which obviously reminds me of the Old Hunter Badge:

It should be left in peace, unless one is truly prepared to assume the will of those gone before.

Yamamura on the other hand, is found beating his head against the wall, obsessively repeating that “Only ye are the true blades of the Church”  while being held captive in a prison where a Church Servant and a Blood Minister act as jailers.

This Eastern warrior pursued a beast for honourable revenge, then became a hunter of the League. But when he stared straight into impurity, it drove him mad. [Khaki Haori]

My theory is that the guy went mad when he realized that Valtr himself was infested by the same Vermin he wanted to purge the world from and that poor Yamamura fell into the hands of the Healing Church doctors (like the jailers and the two fine ladies we meet upstairs in the Nightmare Cathedral) who brainwashed this already damaged soul into submission to the Church.

Now, moving onto the Hunters of Hunters:

This is another covenant of Outsiders but thanks to Eileen’s weapons we can assume that the Hunters of Hunters and Gehrman were allies at some point. And no, I don’t say this just because Eileen also happens to be one of the two Hunters who we know for certain to have been Hunters of the Dream before our arrival, but because the Blades of Mercy are, and I quote “ One of the oldest weapons of the workshop.”

Both the Burial Blade and the Blades of Mercy are forged in siderite, “a rare mineral of the heavens” and the HoH consider the Hunter’s Dream as some sort of ‘heaven’ (possibly in opposition to the Hunter’s nightmare = hell) as stated in the Crowfeather Garb description:

The first Hunter of Hunters came from a foreign land, and gave the dead a virtuous native funeral ritual, rather than impose a blasphemous Yharnam burial service upon them. with the hope that former compatriots might be returned to the skies, and find rest in the Hunter’s Dream.

So, no allegiance to the Church, nor the Vilebloods (see my thoughts on the Bloody Crow’s identity for further details) but they SURELY had something to do with the Dreaming Hunters. Some more clues regarding this alliance between the two groups can be found in the similar way Gehrman and the HoH see the hunt, aka as a “dirge of farewell”.

[And let’s nor forget that Gehrman’s cane handle is a two-headed crow…]

No Place I’d Rather Be

Oliver and Felicity grab dinner, set after 5x15.  Also on AO3

Felicity was sitting at her computers staring at the data running past, not that she could read it, the computer was still scanning through the data from the visit to Prometheus’ mother’s house. She heard the elevator doors open and looked up.

“Good you are still here.” Oliver said with a smile on his face.

“Yes, what’s up? PLEASE tell me you have something for me to do? I need to be useful and right now the computers are doing all the work!” Felicity was practically begging.

“Nope. No work. But I thought we could go grab some dinner.”

“I’m not really that hungry Oliver.” Plus, Felicity couldn’t help but think we aren’t the type of people who do that anymore, remember?

“Maybe just a shake? I’ll take you to Big Belly Burger it will be my treat.”

Damn, he was persistent.

“Okay,” she said a little nervously. “It’s not like I’m doing anything.”

“Great! Let’s take my bike. I know you used to love to ride on it.”

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jigglejaggle  asked:

(this is someone else's prompt, i don't remember who made it though but it's a bit different than the original..) could you write something where lance is stuck cleaning the decontamination chamber and he accidentally turns on with him inside so there's water filling up the room rapidly and he's running out of time but someone finally comes by and hears him screaming and freaking out trying to get him out. You can choose if lance dies or not (I'd prefer that he almost does but is revived by CPR)

I hope you like it; I haven’t slept in 30 hours so I’m just chugging along here…

A few aspects of living in a flying castle really bugged Lance.

How is anyone in their right mind supposed to clean the thing, especially while trying to fight a war at the same time?

How is someone supposed to stay out of the frankly ridiculous amount of traps and strange places scattered haphazardly around?

And, most importantly, how is someone supposed to get out of said traps when there are only six other people on the ship with a once again absurd square footage?

More under the cut!

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ivy-raven  asked:

Hey, I got another prompt! So, I'd like Stony for this one: Steve is ace, Tony is straight, but they fall in love anyway. Sometimes they kiss but mostly they hold hands and cuddle a lot, and Steve really doesn't mind Tony taking off occasionally to hook up to relive tension. The team is Very Confused and Doesn't Get It at all, and Tony is always being accused of cheating, but they're very happy in their queer platonic relationship!

Ahahaha I am not ace or straight so I hope this turned out okay! *wheezes nervously* God I hope I don’t offend anyone. Look out for under the cut!

This work can also be found on my Ao3 here.

When he thought about it, Steve decided that their relationship had really started when Tony stuck his cold toes under his thigh during movie night after their second date. At least for him, it had. He leaned his elbow on the back of the couch and rested his chin on his hand. “Hey, Tony?”

“Ye-es?” the brunet drawled, face and Iron Man apron dusted with flour.

“When did you realize that you had feelings for me?”

“You’re gonna have to be specific, hon’,” Tony replied, squinting suspiciously at a liquid measuring cup. “I have had lots of feelings for you of varying degrees. Sometimes they weren’t even nice feelings.”

Steve couldn’t help a fond smile. “When did you decide you wanted to be my boyfriend?”

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Title: Picture
Rating: G
Series: Inazuma Eleven
Characters: Tsunami Jousuke, Tachimukai Yuuki
Pairings: tsunatachi
Summary/Note: If there’s one thing Tachimukai doesn’t expect, it’s seeing a picture of himself on Tsunami’s phone.
I found out 4/20 is tsunatachi day so here is a short thing for the ship

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I'd Walk Through Hell For You: Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x Steve x Reader
Story Summary: You have the ability to manipulate the elements, and an accident ends with you being taken under the wing of none other than Tony Stark. What will happen when you catch the attention of not just one, but two super soldiers?
Word Count: 1,210

You were standing in your room with Tony in front of you, a look of disapproval written on his features. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, kid. Not yet.” He told you, and you felt your stomach drop. “Tony.. they don’t trust me at all. How long do you think I can last with Steve treating me like I’m some sort of disease?” You whispered harshly, and his mouth turned into a thin line. “Rogers has been giving you problems? I thought it would be Barnes.” You shook your head quickly, “I’m not trying to get anyone in trouble, here, Tony. I’m just telling you that I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to stay here if this is what it’s going to be like.” He nodded stiffly, “I still don’t want them to know yet.. but I’ll talk to them. Figure it out. You shouldn’t feel alienated here.” You nodded slowly, “Fine.. if that’s what you want to do.. but if they decide they don’t want me here, I’m leaving. You can’t stop me from doing that.” You told him, and he forced a smile.

You let Tony go to talk to everyone without you, seeing as you were given permission to go wander the grounds surrounding the facility. It was in a secluded area, so nobody really knew where to find you, It made it more difficult for Hydra to track Bucky, too.

As you walked down a trail that followed a stream, you couldn’t help but wonder how everything was going. You were a little worried that the verdict would come back, and you’d up having to leave. Even though you didn’t get along with Steve very well, and you barely knew everyone else, you liked being here. You liked Nat, Wanda, and well.. Bucky.. You even liked Steve at first, though you couldn’t quite comprehend what his problem with you was. Was he jealous that you were taking Bucky’s attention away from him?

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you pulled it out, seeing that you had a text from Tony. It’s safe to come back now. Talked to Rogers. You let out a breath of relief, shoving the phone back into your pocket as you turned around and headed back towards the facility, a little pep in your step.

That was when you heard it. A loud bang, followed by intense pain in your stomach. You looked down, seeing your grey sweater start to turn red in the center of your stomach. You looked over your shoulder, seeing a man standing there. He wasn’t wearing combat gear, or even a mask. It was just a man. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, smirking as he watched the blood ooze from your wound. You could feel it trickling down your back, too - the bullet had gone all the way through you. You let out a shaky breath upon hearing someone yell your name, and the man quickly disappeared. You felt yourself fall to your knees, your hand putting light pressure on your stomach as you stared at where the man just stood. Who was he? Why would he do this?

You felt a hand clasp down on your shoulder, and a muffled voice, but you drowned out what they were saying. You were too trapped in your own throughts. You felt yourself being picked up, and let out a loud cry as your back brushed against something. “Shhh. I got you.” You could hear Steve say. You looked up at the man who carried you, and his eyes shined down at you. “H-he shot me.” You breathed, and Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Bucky and Nat are out looking for him, now.” He told you, and you winced as he picked up his pace. You began to feel your vision blur, and Steve growled, “Don’t you fall asleep on me, Y/N. Stay awake.” You chuckled, instantly regretting it as you felt a cough come on. “It’s okay, Captain.. you don’t have to be nice to me, now.” You breathed, and he shook his head at you as you entered the building. “You and I are going to have a long discussion about that, later. For now, I need you to stay awake.” He told me sternly, and you rested your head against his chest, biting into your lip harshly. “Fuck.” You whimpered, and he looked down at you, concern etching it’s way across his features.

He carried you to the medical bay, setting you down on a table gently. Tony came rushing into the room, “What the fuck happened?” Steve shook his head, looking down at you. "I don’t know, Tony. I didn’t recognize the guy, but he wasn’t even wearing combat gear. He knew she was alone.” Steve told him, worry evident in his voice. You let out a groan as Tony lifted your sweater, revealing the hole in your abdomen. “Maybe she knew him.” Tony murmured, and you shook your head, despite your pain. “I’d never seen him before in my life.” You breathed, Tony’s fingers still prodding at your abdomen. “Stitches..” You heard Tony mumble, and you let out a groan, “Just fucking burn it.” You hissed, and Tony stared down at you for a moment, before he realized what you were getting at. “We don’t need to cauterize it, we can stitch it.” Tony stammered, and you hissed, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” You hadn’t noticed that you now had an audience as you formed a small ball of fire on the tips of your fingertips. You heard Steve let out a gasp as you pressed your flaming fingers to the wound, letting out a cry. You felt hands on your shoulders, helping you sit up as you reached around to touch the entry wound, growling at the contact of the fire on your skin.

Once you were sure that the wound was completely closed, the fire left your fingertips, quickly being replaced with a small ice ball. You pressed it to the wound on my back, your breathing labored as you stared at the ceiling. “Y/N?” Tony whispered, and you let out a long breath. “I don’t fucking care if they know, Tony. I really don’t, okay? I’ve spent my entire life hiding myself. If they’re afraid of me, so be it. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.” You told him breathlessly, trying to get off of the table you were sitting on. As soon as your feet touched the floor, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you, and you almost lost your balance, catching yourself quickly. You looked around the room, seeing that Bucky and Wanda had made their way into the room, their mouths falling open slightly. You let out a small chuckle when you saw it on their faces - fear. “I guess you were right, Tony.. they are afraid of me.” You whispered.

You saw your vision start to fade away as your knees buckled undeneath you. Arms quickly went around your waist, and you were held against a strong, hard surface. “You’re not going anywhere.” Steve breathed against your ear, and that’s the last thing you heard before you fainted.

Originally posted by fallustoro

anonymous asked:

Hello! Can I have a request for Iwachan, Daichi and Tsukki? These babies finally gather up their courage to confess to their crush (their teammate are spying cuz they made a bet) yet their crush look at them, confused, and said "I'd like you date too but I won't"---and her reason is----"Aren't you dating Oikawa san/Sugawara Sempai/Yamaguchi Kun? It's not good cheating on your boyfriend..."----How would the boys do? I believe Oi/Matsun/Makki&Suga (Noya&Ryu too?) are laughing real loud LOL.

i’m laughing because in The Real Word™ everyone wouldn’t think that guys who are close could be a couple (aka “just guys bein dudes!”/compulsory heterosexuality) but in this case, you’re like “um yeah they probably are together???” bless your heart

instead of having the whole team bet, i changed it to a few of the boys for each. some really aren’t the betting type (*coughs* asahi) and some really probably wouldn’t care a whole lot (tsukki in daichi’s case, kageyama in tsukki’s case, and definitely kunimi in iwa’s)


  • Matsukawa and Hanamaki are the only ones betting, the former betting that Iwaizumi chickens out and never confesses and the latter betting on him doing so. Winner only gets the satisfaction of having won. For a while, it’s a lot of them giving Iwa conflicting advice about what to do.
    • They decide NOT to let Oikawa in on it, because he would absolutely blab somehow to Iwaizumi about it and ruin the fun. However, Oikawa does get annoyed at Matsun and Makki’s constant verbal tug-o-war on the matter when they all hang out.
      • Oikawa’s actually the one to convince Iwaizumi to go for it: “Just rip the band-aid off and ask ___ out already!”
        • After this MatsuHana decide to modify the bet: Matsukawa bets that you’ll say no and Hanamaki thinks you’ll accept. In addition to the original prize, winner also gets bragging rights.
          • Oikawa’s not in on this one either, mostly because they know that he’ll bet that you say yes and maybe try something to swing the game in his (and Makki’s, by default) favor, even if his intentions beyond the bet are for Iwaizumi’s sake. Also, that’s no fun!
  • Iwaizumi almost can’t believe his ears when you say “I’d like to date you too”.  His heart practically beats out of his chest. If only your mouth hadn’t kept moving after that with the rest of your train of thought…
  • He’s honestly so embarrassed by this that he can’t even stutter out a proper denial that he’s dating Oikawa of all people.
    • It gets even worse when you start wondering aloud if maybe they have an open relationship, and that’s why he’s asking so indiscreetly and also why Oikawa’s had girlfriends at points you were sure the two were an item.
    • Especially because he can hear Matsun and Makki snickering and Oikawa stifling his screaming from their spot behind a tree.
  • BUT YOU ALSO SAID YES TECHNICALLY, so once he’s managed to explain that you’ve got it all wrong, that realization hits him and he’s a red-faced mess all over again as he repeats his initial question.
  • Hanamaki wins the bet and proudly announces it after your first date with Iwa. He jokes that knew Iwaizumi could do it the whole time and he’s a real pal for thinking so. Iwaizumi’s ticked because they went and made a dman bet out of the situation. Oikawa promptly whines that he wasn’t included in the game.


  • Daichi keeps procrastinating on confessing to you and Suga definitely mocks his constant excuses as to why he hasn’t done so yet.
    • Finally, Daichi takes the initiative to ask you out and lets Suga know (mostly so he can stop being so sassy about it). Tanaka and Nishinoya happen to be in the vicinity when Daichi explains this to Suga, and once the captain is out of ear shot, the three get to talking. Suga comes up with the idea for the bet.
      • Suga and Noya gamble that you’ll say no. Tanaka, having faith in his captain, thinks you’ll say yes. Winner(s) is/are guaranteed a window seat on the bus seat on their next trip to Tokyo and the loser(s) has/have to secure said seat(s).
      • The two second-years can’t be normal about the situation and just wait until after the fact to find out the outcome. Poor Suga is dragged into some hiding spot and the three of them listen in on it.
  • After he confesses and you give your spiel, Daichi’s in denial for about five seconds, which is long enough for him to let out a “I’m so glad you feel the sa—wait, what!?” He can practically feel the blood drain from his face when reiterate what you said.
    • Tanaka’s basically turned to stone because what the hell is happening and Nishinoya’s struggling not to scream out, “Daichi, fight!” to keep the other boy motivated (even though he bet against Daichi, he can’t help but want to cheer him on).
  • Suga’s struggling to not burst out laughing because where did you get that impression from?
    • Needless to say, all three are preoccupied and don’t actually hear Daichi clear up the misunderstanding and you accepting to go out with him. To them, it’s stuck in limbo: yes because you returned his feelings, but also no because you refused to go out with him.
  • The whole betting and spying situation gets resolved when Daichi mentions that the first date went well, leaving a very confused Suga at first. Daichi’s confused about Suga being confused, the latter slipping up about knowing what you said.
  • Tanaka and Nishinoya, overhearing just the tail end of the conversation, also question the outcome. Tanaka cheers about winning, backpedaling (poorly) only when an irked Daichi questions him about it.


  • Hinata accidentally eavesdrops on Yamaguchi giving his friend some encouraging words before he goes to ask you out.
    • Hinata, snarky about it, bets that you’ll reject “Stingyshima” sometime after Tsukishima has already left. Yamaguchi has total faith in his best friend so he naturally airs his support.
      • While Yamaguchi just thinks that he means “bet” as in “think”, Hinata thinks they’re actually gambling on the outcome. Loser has to buy the winner(s) meat buns.
        • Hinata tries to get Kageyama in on it too, but the boy cannot be bothered with anything to do with Tsukishima.
  • They don’t actually mean to spy on Tsukishima asking you out (they were just going to wait until after) but while the three are on the way home, they happen to spot the two of you in the distance right before the confession plays out. Yamaguchi drags the other two to hide behind a building, but still pokes his head out from around the wall to watch.
  • Naturally, Tsukishima is very cool and collected when he asks you on a date but he thinks your follow-up to his question is a terrible joke, actually.
    • After reassuring him that you’re not joking, and accuse him of also telling some sort of bad joke himself, he starts to internally question where exactly you got the idea that he was dating Yamaguchi from.
      • Before he can verbalize this, he’s cut off by someone screaming “Yamaguchi don’t die!!!” in the distance.
      • Yamaguchi’s soul has completely left his body at this point; it ascended to some other world. Hinata—the one screaming—tries to shake him back to reality and snap Yamaguchi from his unfortunate stupor. Kageyama snaps at Hinata to stop screaming because they’ll get caught.
        • Tsukishima is PISSED because they just had to be there to not only witness this, but turn it into a shit show.
  • Of course, you hear the commotion and promptly tell Tsukishima to knock off this bad joke because now his poor boyfriend is heartbroken.
    • Finally, he huffs that he’s definitely not dating Yamaguchi and he doesn’t know how or why you were under the impression that he was.
      • You’re so embarrassed by the whole misconception, admitting that you’d understand if he doesn’t want to date you anymore after this. Thankfully, his offer still stands.
  • Even though he lost the bet, Hinata likes that he now has some fodder to make fun of Tsukishima with. Yamaguchi’s just glad that everything worked out in the end.

victorineb  asked:

First: huge congrats on reaching 1k, my dear. Ain't no one deserves it more <3 And second, I'd very much like some festive (whatever the Samartian equivalent of Christmas is, I guess) Tristhad, please. Things I am weak for and that I will love you for including: grumpy puppy Galahad; quietly besotted Tristan; friends to lovers; first kisses. Thanks lovely 💖

Hope you like this my darling @victorineb Happy Solstice!

[My Fics on Tumblr] [TigerPrawn on AO3] [Shout Me A Coffee] [Commissions]


“Why must they take absolutely everything!” Galahad kicked the empty pale next to the stable door, sending it flying into an empty stall.

Tristan’s horse startled but settled immediately with the man’s calming hands on it’s bridle as he stepped into Galahad’s view.

“And what have the Romans done now to make you so grumpy, pup?” something near amusement there.

“Never mind.” Galahad grumbled. He’d hoped to find Gawain to share in his misery. Or ply him with alcohol until he forgot it. Tristan was the last of the knights he had wanted to see, the one he was least friendly with. If anything their relationship could be categorised as cold at best. Galahad always suspected Tristan teased him as he had realised the silly boyhood crush Galahad had on him years before. His face burned remembering it, of course, he didn’t think of Tristan that way now…

“I mind, if it is enough for you to spook my horse. She who has done nothing to you, and occasionally speaks well of you.” He grinned.

Galahad looked at the knight, unsure whether he was angry or not beneath his teasing. It was always difficult to tell with Tristan - so aloof but for when he was making fun of him. The only time Galahad was ever sure how Tristan truly felt was when the man was angry and spitting his words like venom. Usually at or about the Romans. He had no more love for them than the rest of the Sarmatians.

Galahad huffed out a sigh. “Today is the Solstice.”

“I am aware.” Tristan responded with a raised brow.

“And yet it goes unmarked!” Galahad started to pace, still angry from this exact conversation with Lancelot ten minutes earlier. He had told him to celebrate it in his own way but away from the Romans lest it irked them. Irked them! They who were consumed with drinking and revelling already and still there were several days before their own winter celebration - the birth of their Saviour.

Tristan was stood looking at him now, his horse stabled. “And what is it you would have the Sarmatians do? They think our religion backward as it is. To celebrate our own holiday so close to theirs would only anger the fools. Are you prepared to brawl over it?”

Galahad let out another sigh, more defeated in tone now. “I just want it to be… I remember how it was when I was little. The shortest day, the darkness lit by torches to welcome in the rebirth of the Gods. Would it hurt them if we lit torches?”

“We are not in those lands anymore, pup. You must keep our Gods in your own way, don’t bother the local’s with it.” Tristan waved a dismissive hand, which now held an apple - he turned away as he took a bite.

Galahad huffed. He had no idea why he bothered saying anything to Tristan. They barely ever spoke and when they did the man was so dismissive of him, other times bizarrely overprotective - either way treated as a child. Galahad stomped off, deciding he was better off discussing this with a jug of warm mead instead.


Galahad had stayed only for half a cup. The overexcitable and in some cases, aggressively drunken, celebratory Romans were enough to drive him from the tavern looking for peace. He grabbed up the remainder of the jug and stalked out, wondering if he might just steal some of the torches and light them anyway - Romans be damned! He had to pass near the supply sheds so perhaps…

When he drew close to them he was still undecided, but then he could see a glow coming from behind the small hillock to the left. His bed was waiting for him just off to the right, but the glow intrigued him and he continued onward in the biting cold.

As he cleared the ridge he could see a shadowy figure lighting a torch, the last of three that had been planted in the ground. As the torch ignited he could see the man, old snow underfoot, was Tristan.

“What are you doing?” Galahad near yelled as he sloshed the mead jug at him when he reached the bottom of the incline. He had the feeling he was being made fun of but didn’t quite get the joke.

“I thought I would keep the Gods with you tonight.” Tristan’s smile was small but warming as he looked first at Galahad and then beyond to the barracks - the windows of Galahad’s quarters faced this land. He would have seen the torches from his room.

Galahad frowned. “Why?”

“Don’t you know?” Tristan’s smile was almost bashful which deepened Galahad’s frown. What was this trick? Tristan moved closer to him, eyes cast down as he continued. “Sometimes I forget that you were so young. Those of us who are older remember more of our lives back home, and that can make it painful to recall. Perhaps it’s why we don’t bluster as you do. But… You reminded me that there are things that it can be good to remember. Celebrating the Gods is as much the same as celebrating family.” Tristan looked up then, capturing Galahad’s gaze as he also caught his hand. “I would keep the Gods with you every night if you would let me.”

“Oh I see.” Galahad bit out the words and snatched back his hand. “Did Gawain put you up to this mockery?” He started to stalk back up the incline. “It’s beneath you, Tristan!”

The floor was wet with sludge and ice, as Galahad found when his feet went from under him. The jug hit the ground and rolled but did not smash - a small mercy amongst no others. He huffed out an exasperated breath, and lay flat on the cold, wet grass. Defeated by this day.

Galahad found himself roughly rolled and then Tristan was atop him, hands either side of his head, but bodies pressed together from the waist down. Galahad remembered his teenage imaginings and blushed first before he angered again and started to struggle.

“And now you are beneath me, pup.” Another tease.

“Why taunt me Tristan?” Galahad snapped angrily.

“Surely you can feel that I don’t taunt you.” Tristan chuckled, pressing closer into Galahad so that the younger knight was in no doubt as to his true affection. He leaned in and captured Galahad’s mouth. Galahad resisted for a moment, thinking it must still be some jest, but then Tristan was kissing him so deeply and with such feeling, he melted into it, not caring that his cloak was starting to become sodden beneath him.

By the time they broke apart, Tristan was moving slowly against him - their bodies rutting gently together - both of their desires now clear.

“Let me take you to your rooms?” Tristan was breathless as he muttered the words against Galahad’s lips. Galahad swallowed and nodded in response.

“But… Why Tristan? Why now, I thought…”

“You thought I did not notice the way you look at me. Just as you have never noticed the way I look at you.” Tristan huffed a laugh into Galahad’s neck, where he began to nuzzle at the sensitive flesh there.

“And yet you have ignored those looks until now?” Galahad breathed out the words.

“I…” Tristan pulled back and smiled down at Galahad. “Today marks the death and birth of another year. Another year in which we both remain yet living when so many have fallen. Perhaps I realised that I did not want another year to pass not having known you.”

“Perhaps-” Galahad grinned “-you just find me irresistible when I am grumpy.”

“Yes. That too.” Tristan returned the grin before pulling Galahad up with him and all but carrying the knight to his quarters. Their retreat lit by the devotional torches to the Gods that continued to see them live.

If you liked this story you may also enjoy my Hannigram/Tristhad (sort of reincarnation) Series - [Designs on AO3]

anonymous asked:

I feel bad that there have been more sans/reader requests lately since Papy needs love too! But I'd really like to see some lovesick Sans? We know he loves reader but its rare to see him get all flustered! I want all the fluff and feelings!

phew! this one took a lot longer than i expected! i wasn’t sure what direction i wanted to take it in, but hopefully this is enough lovestruck sans for you to have a good time. thanks for your request, darlin’, i hope you like it! <3


Pairing: Sans/Reader

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Sans can be motivated. He just needs the right inspiration.

Before he met you, Sans didn’t know a damn thing about romance.

Sure, he loved his brother. His friends. His makeshift little family. He loved the kid, the surface, the sunlight and stars. But nothing romantic ever came from it.

He saw why Alphys and Undyne worked together, though he himself wasn’t sure what it was that drew them to each other. When Toriel talked – very rarely – about her relationship with Asgore, he accepted it as a simple fact and nothing more. He supported his brother’s decision to research dating tips, though Sans’s interest was from a purely detached/scientific curiosity type of standpoint.

Monsters and humans might’ve differed in a lot of ways, but some of them yearning for relationships was something both species could relate to.

For him, showing any kind of affection was a pain. He thought he could do it in roundabout ways. Just making sure that everyone was safe and happy, bringing a few laughs to their lives. Trying to get them to see that he cared, just not in the way that they considered normal. No outright confessions of feelings. No hugs and embraces. No gentle touches just for the hell of it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. He just…didn’t really get it. He was content to be in his own little personal bubble, away from everyone else, appreciating their fun but not wanting to be part of it in any way, shape or form.

Those urges or desires didn’t exist.

He was cool with that.

Then something changed.

He met you through Papyrus. The both of you joined a cooking class together and were often partnered up for some of the more intense dishes. You entered into a competition together and you rapidly became his brother’s best friend. You guys did everything together. You watched movies, exchanged presents, and even walked up to graduate together to receive your certificates. Humans called it “attached at the hip”.

He really thought for sure you were a couple, so when he called you his brother’s girlfriend in front of him, the reaction he received was pretty surprising.




“close friends.”


“but you guys are always touchin’ each other.”


For some reason, he found himself strangely relieved that you two weren’t A Thing, but chalked it up to uncertainty about monster-human relationships.

Sans snuck glances at you more often after that. You came over to Undyne and Alphys’ place frequently for dinner and game night, a tradition that included all of his friends. He sat next to you at the table and reached down to readjust his posture when he brushed up against you.

And wow.

He knew immediately why he’d been trying so hard to make you laugh all night.

But he kept it to himself. Played it cool. Got flustered at the smile you shot him before you ducked out the door, waving, promising you would be back to see them tomorrow.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted your opinion on this gift I’m getting for Papyrus, so…” You grabbed a sharpie from your purse. “Do you mind if I…?”

He had no idea what the hell was going on. He just kept staring at the curve of your lips. Biting down on his tongue so he wouldn’t end up spouting some awkward half-baked pun.

“I’m going to give you my number.”

“uh. your…number.”

“For my phone?”

“oh. right. ok. yeah.”

He tensed at the way you approached him, reaching over so you could scribble it on the back of his hand. But the softness of your fingers was enough to stop all of his worries and fears. Because when he looked up at you, watching the way you concentrated as you jotted down all of the digits that would probably be his sole focus for the next week.

When you pulled back, he spotted the heart on the end of your name and melted.

Something snapped in him. A fluttering in his ribcage that didn’t seem to want to subside no matter how much he shifted and tried to settle down.

Both of you parted with giant grins on your faces.

Undyne burst out laughing when he rejoined the rest of the group in the living room.

“Oh my GOD, SANS??? You’re BLUSHING, nerd!”

“no i’m not.” He felt himself start to sweat. “this is my natural complexion.”


“what?” He stammered out something incomprehensible. “nah, she’s cool though.”

“O-oh, he likes her a lot,” Alphys chimed. “Y-you can practically see his SOUL glow through his chest.”

Sans panicked and glanced down at the shirt he’d slapped on for the gathering, one of your favorite animal with some kind of lame joke on it. He wore it to get a reaction out of you and pretty much did, the eyeroll and smirk you shot him was enough that he decided he would wear it probably once every four or five times he saw you. Just so it would become a running joke between the both of you.

“wha…n-no you can’t.”

“PFFFFTHAHAHAHA!” Undyne roared, falling over backwards with tears running down her cheeks. “PAPYRUS! YOUR BROTHER HAS A CRUSH ON THE HUMAN!”

“h-heh, whatever, you guys are real funny.” Sans retreated to his usual spot and did his best to hide the message on his arm.

After everyone parted ways, and the brothers went home, Sans hopped up on his bed and stared at the writing you did on his arm. Reaching out to stroke where the tip of your marker had been, tracing along your penmanship, trying to recreate the softness of your touch.

He put the number in his phone.

Waited a few hours. Pretended not to be checking the notifications.

Finally decided to just—to just do it, to text you. To break the silence. See what all of this was about.

And his phone buzzed.

Maybe it had taken a long time to get here. He’d never thought that this would happen to him. He was content to get through life watching over his friends and family. But it really wasn’t a bad thing that he formed this monstrous, ridiculously mushy, almost painful crush on the one human that all of his friends seemed to like as a collective.

It didn’t help that everyone noticed.

“You have been in a much better mood lately, Sans. Does this have to do with your daily texts?”

He shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, ignoring the gentle ringtone that he set for you. It was personalized. A clip from your favorite song. “heh, don’t know whatcha mean, tori.”

“Y-you guys look really good together, Sans! I-I hear she’s single.”

He chuckled nervously, avoiding Alphys’s hard stare at the lab table. “uh, good to know?”

Undyne hovered over him when he sat on the couch, crossed arms, biceps bulging, and a feral grin on her face.

“Hey NERD, make your MOVE before someone ELSE does.”

It was a lot of pressure, especially for something he wasn’t ready to pursue yet. He knew that he…liked your company. That he wanted nothing more than to be someone you were exclusive with. At the same time, it was a huge step. He could barely handle all these newfound feelings now. How would he keep it together if he was in a relationship? And how was he supposed to even know that you felt the same way? His brother kept a dating manual in the house, but he would be damned if he swallowed his pride and flipped through it.

He did what he had to. He arranged a meeting with you.

To…talk about things. To make it clear. To tell you that…regardless of what the others said, that he wasn’t interested in moving things forward. Because it wasn’t fair for him to keep entertaining this fact when he just…didn’t think that he really deserved…

He sat down on the park bench. Heard you walk up. Tensed. Shuddered under the rush of wind as the streetlight sent gentle shadows down your face. How he could imagine how every single thread of hair would feel along his fingers, his bones, his mouth. He zeroed in on your figure and the light air you carried with you, bringing along this unfamiliar, almost overwhelming feeling that made his throat close up and his quick wit melt in his mouth.



“yeah, i uh…”

“Look, before you say anything, I need to be honest with you.”

He swallowed. “ok.”

“I feel like I should’ve been straight up with these past few months.”

“uh huh.”

He was going to shatter. He was going to look in your eyes, hear the exact words that he’d been mulling over, and dissociate from everything else. Head back home with his heart heavy and trying not to take it personally. Because what did he expect? You were perfect and wonderful and fuck you were beautiful, he was just some creepy monster that shot you doe eyes every single damn time you came into the room. It was no wonder you needed to address this issue with him in a secluded place.

“I want to go out with you.”

“me too.”

He froze.


“Y-you do?” You reared back, cheeks flushing with color. “Are you…are you serious? You like me, too?”

Sans felt like he was going to throw up. He was so happy. So damn happy that it felt like he was in zero gravity, floating in midair and just along for the ride. He reached back and scratched at his neck, a ripple of nervous laughter escaping him, the familiar warmth of embarrassment trickling and crawling along his face.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe—I thought for sure—why didn’t you say anything?!”

He laughed. Halfway sheepish, halfway pained. “didn’t think you would ever feel the same way.”

“That’s my line!”

He stood up from his seat. Colors melted around him, the atmosphere warping and nothing but a soft halo around your head and shoulders. Tunnel vision to the max. All he could focus on was the sheen to your eyes, the familiar glint that made him reconsider every single thing he ever thought could make him happy. He approached you steadfast, hands in his pockets, staring up at you in wonder and amazement.

“can i kiss you?”

You bent down and took one from him in response.

Sans didn’t really think of it as sparks flying. He’d never done this sort of thing before. It was a little uncomfortable at first, getting used to the new and weird sensations, but he was quick to adapt. There was no use in mulling over that. But there was something, alright. How he could feel the texture to your lips. Appreciate their softness. How plump they were against him. How a few wisps of hair tickled his shoulders while you bent down to continue laying one on him. How you pulled him flush to you, everything meeting in a bright moment where he couldn’t even fucking imagine not being with you.

You parted from him. Licked your lips. Whispered his name.

He grinned.

From that day forward, Sans knew that there wasn’t going back. Ever.

Everyone that it was hilarious and adorable how attentive he was. For a guy that could barely stand a one-armed hug once in a while, he had way too much love to give now.

Six months passed.

A year.

Two years.

He couldn’t believe you stuck around with him for that long. For monsters it didn’t mean much, but humans had shorter lifespans. You could’ve grown out of his terrible puns and lazy attitude. You didn’t. You never turned your back on him. There were a few misunderstandings, sure, but that was normal in any kind of relationship.

People thought he would settle down once the novelty wore off. That he would eventually get used to having you around and not be a complete lovesick puppy that struggled to stop blushing every time the both of you flirted everywhere and nowhere.

They were totally wrong.

“Sans, you still with us?”

He continued to write on his pad of paper. “yep, gotta make sure we lower the temperature of the lab this weekend to compensate for the repairs. got it.”

The staff meeting was ridiculously long and boring, with management addressing things that could hardly be considered important issues. They were just drilling him because they were upset that he was barely paying attention.

Alphys giggled next to him and nudged him with her shoulder. “W-what are you writing?”

He grinned and turned the paper toward her. “tryin’ to see if i could pull off her last name.”

“O-oh my god?” Alphys burst into a fit of giggles, so hard that the rest of the people in the room shot her hard stares. She eventually had to excuse herself and leave the room. Sans could hear her losing it all the way down the hall.

With the rest of the afternoon to finish up some paperwork, Sans retired to his office.

He slipped into his computer chair and whipped around in it a few times, trying to make himself a little dizzy to bring him out of the scattered thoughts that hung on his shoulders. He really had to get working on this last review of the research materials for their next big project, but first, he was going to eat something.

He reached under his desk and picked up the lunchbox that Papyrus got him. It was in the shape of a bone. With one side that had an internal cooling system, which he thought was the greatest thing ever. He preferred to bring back leftovers from dinner to munch on during work, mostly because it reminded him of his brother and how much he really appreciated his family.

He opened it up and realized that the usual container wasn’t in there. Weird. After prying out what had been shoved haphazardly inside, he found the sticky note taped to the top.

It was in the shape of a heart.


I hope you’re having a good day. Your speech at the meeting today was amazing. Be sure to keep your cool with Arvo, okay? You can rant all about him when you get home, I just know he probably said something to piss you off today.

Did you know that I love you?

Yeah, you probably did. Because you’re just as smart as you are sexy. ;)

I’ll see you in a few hours!

Sans reread the message about five times. Grinning. Flipping it over to find a lipstick stain on the other side. You knew it drove him crazy. And that little spritz of perfume? The one that you only wore when you were about to corner him into the bedroom? That was just torture. He turned around, grabbed a thumbtack from his desk, and posted it up on the corkboard with all the other hundreds of messages you’d given him over the years.

The phone rang and he picked it up immediately.

“yep, this is sans, what can i do for ya?”

From the corner of his eye he watched Alphys slip into the office. She was beaming at him, but returned her attention to all of his things around the room.

She loved coming in here. It was always warm and…sunny. Frisk brought over plants for Sans to keep on his windowsill, and a lot of them were thriving because he was so attentive. Papyrus posted up pictures of all three of you together, the walls covered in them, expressions ranging from silly to downright enamored. Along the back wall were paintings that you picked out for him at the local art dealer, including one of those ridiculous abstract art pieces that he only kept because it drove his brother crazy. He rotated the frames so Papyrus always interpreted something completely different when he came in and saw them, which was probably why Sans kept them up in the first place.

“ok. thanks.” He hung up and swung around to meet her. “sup.”

“W-who was that?”

“mailman.” He shrugged. “tryin’ to make sure the gift basket i bought her gets to her work tomorrow. said he might be behind schedule ‘cuz of traffic, but i let him know it should be fine.”

Alphys sighed almost dreamily. “S-She’s going to love it.”

“sure hope so.” He coughed. “you, uh. come by for a reason?”

“Y-Yes, actually. I wanted to let you know that you have a package outside.”

His stomach twisted. “what.”

He scrambled over to the door and pressed his face against the window. Watched as the girl walked up with a giant box slung over her shoulder.

“no way.”

The delivery girl set it down in front of his office. Several people had craned their necks out of their cubicles to see what was going on. Nosy bastards. Sans felt himself start to sweat, his bones slick from nervousness. He had butterflies and it wasn’t pleasant at all. Instead of making a scene, he expressed his internal discomfort by tugging at the collar of his shirt and gazing down at the gift.

“I-it looks cool, whatever it is.”

“i know what it is.” Sans laughed shakily. “she got me a new telescope.”

He was going to get you back for this. The flowers he was getting to you weren’t going to hold a candle to this. Shit. He found himself ignoring his inquisitive audience as he signed for it giddily, tearing away at the cardboard before the girl even left to finish off her rounds.

“W-wait, are you talking about the one that r-rivals the type of equipment that they send into space?!”

“hell yeah. i mentioned it last year when they announced its release. she must’ve…must’ve saved up ever since then to snag me one.”

He knew his cheeks were red. He didn’t care. He knew that he was grinning like a madman and that his giddy expression sent a ripple of laughter down the hall. Didn’t care about that either. Because as he tore away at the casing and plastic, pulling it out of the styrofoam and setting it down carefully on the carpet, he was way too excited and filled to the brim with love that he couldn’t damn well stand it.

It was gorgeous. Sleek. Powerful. The magnification on this thing – with the added camera – was going to give him so much free reign in what he could see and capture. He would spend hours in the field behind their house just gazing into the vast, endless skies. And you knew that. You knew that sometimes he couldn’t sleep through the night, even if you were with him, and that he had to leave his room in order to be comforted by the twinkling planets thousands and thousands of light years away.

He was going to find planets and name them after you.

He was going to immortalize you in the stars by discovering things that no one else could’ve dreamed of.

He was going to kiss the hell out of you when he got home.

Everyone gathered around. Flustered. Wanting to ask him the specifications for it. Looking over the manual. Geeking out. He was proud and touched that so many of them were interested, but wary that they didn’t scuff the thing.

He couldn’t stop gushing about you.

“told her, y’know, months and months ago. said i read this article that talked all about it. she listened to me ramble on for hours even though she had to get up for work the next day.”

“Damn, Sans. You sure are lucky.”

He paused a bit at that comment. “yeah. i am. can’t even tell ya how much.”

It was too much. You were too much. He knew that you were patient and respectful. He knew that you were attentive and wonderful. But it was a little hard to swallow that someone out there in this nasty world could be perfect. You had your flaws, sure, that wasn’t what he meant – but the fact that you poured so much love into your relationship with him was just…phenomenal. How you could remember things he mentioned offhandedly. How you could sit there and make him feel like he was the single most important person in the entire world.

He stammered out more compliments about you when prompted. His coworkers knew he was in a relationship, but being able to freely discuss what he loved about you was just so freeing. He could gush all he wanted, letting his pupils shift into hearts, spewing out every single compliment he could while trying not to reveal too much information.

Because you were his girlfriend, and judging by the more interested parties who wanted to meet you, he wasn’t about to let you go easily.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. Laughing whenever he stole a glance at the telescope, knowing exactly where to store it in the house. Typing away at emails and responding with a flurry of emoticons, not even caring how much people made fun of him for it later. He sat back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, your face etched in his mind even when he closed his eyesockets.

It was good to be in love.

It was good to have found someone like you. Who was interested in him, too.

He had so many reservations before. He really didn’t think that he could get to this point. It was confusing, intimidating, a little strange. But you were patient with him. You let him keep the pace he wanted. And here he was, about to burst, his magic simmering inside of his SOUL and flaring up with every time he breathed because he couldn’t stop counting the minutes until he would get to see you.

Sans rushed out the door. Got in his car. And sped home.

You were waiting for him in the driveway, having just parked yourself.


He kissed you hotly. Dragging you down to his level. Sealing your mouth with his and grinning into the kiss, anchoring you in place. You could taste the passion in it, feel how much he wanted his excitement to be apparent, reaching down to cover his own wandering hand with your own.

Your lips clicked when he separated from you to get some air.

He dove back again.

And again.

And again!

Until the two of you were dizzy in each other, your face flushed when you stepped back to catch your breath. He looked like he couldn’t even stand another second without having you close. Gripping your hand like it was his lifeline, laughing giddily, shoulders shaking while he tried to compose himself.

“can’t believe you. can’t believe you bought me that damn thing.”

“Well you said you wanted it!”

“n’ what, if i said i wanted the moon, you’d grab me that, too?”

“Maybe, if we had the space,” you joked. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“like it? babe, i think you n’ me need to have a heart-to-heart on how i really feel.” He shook his head. “you – you’re everythin’ to me. can’t even express that enough. you n’ me, we’re meant for each other, y’know?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“so what? what do i gotta do to make things even? to make things right?”

You laughed and tugged on his hand. “How about we grab some takeout, come back here, change into our pajamas, and you watch those terrible, cheesy movies with me until I fall asleep on your lap?”

“then what?”

“You sneak out in the middle of my dreamfest and put that gift to good use!

He gazed at you, SOUL pounding beneath his ribcage. He didn’t even need the damn telescope to see stars.

“heh. you got it, babe.”

Sans really didn’t consider himself to be an expert in love. Not by a long shot. But all things considered…he’d say he was making some real progress.

xflowerchildwitharocknrollheartx  asked:

"Even If you called 6 months later at 3 am..I'd still answer. I'll always care." With Got7's Jaebum? Please and thank you 😊💕

thank you for your request! i made this angsty, hope you don’t mind ◠﹏◠✿

Emotional Roller Coaster

Phrase(s): “Even if you called 6 months later at 3 am…I’d still answer. I’ll always care.”

Pairing: Jaebum (JB-Got7) x Reader

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Word Count: 1,509

Summary: You get a late night call from your ex, Jaebum. You hadn’t heard from him in months and things hadn’t ended well…But he calls you and sounds so sad and guilty. He explains to you what happened and basically apologizes to you. Will you forgive him?

Originally posted by defsouljb

Your eyes heavily fluttered open as the insistent ringing grew louder and louder. Squinting you pushed yourself up in bed and propped up on one arm, using the other hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. It takes you a second to take in your surroundings and find the source of the ringing. Seeing the faint light shining up from your bedside table, your brain seems to wake up a bit more as you realize that someone is calling you. 

Leaning over, you unplug your phone from its charger and answer without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello?” You ask groggily.

“I’m sorry to call this late…I know you probably hate me, but I just needed to hear your voice.” 

You sit up straighter and suddenly feel very awake. “Jaebum? Are you okay? It’s…” you trail off pulling your phone away from your ear and checking the time. “2:17 in the morning.” 

A shaky laugh comes through the phone. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“Wait!” You blurt out before he can hang up. This was the first time in months you had heard from Jaebum and frankly, you hadn’t the slightest clue as to why he had called you. He was right; you probably should have hated him, and yet here you were, feeling more concerned about him more than any other emotion. 

“You must have called me for some reason. What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

There’s a pause. “You never fail to amaze me, Y/N. Even after all this time, even after I didn’t treat you how a princess should be treated, you still seem to be concerned about me. You still picked up the phone…I’m so sorry.” Jaebum’s voice breaks a little as he finishes talking, causing your throat to feel constricted. 

You clear your throat and say softly, “Even if you called 6 months later at 3 am instead of 2:17 am…I’d still answer. I’ll always care, Jaebum.” When the only response you get is the sound of ragged breathing and quiet sniffles, you continue. “Jaebum, what’s happening? I’m getting worried.”

“I just…I miss you so much. I know I messed up…so badly. I just feel like I need to let you know why I did what I did and why I acted that way. And I’m not expecting an apology or for you to want me back or anything, I just want to explain to you so that you don’t wonder if you did something wrong, because the last thing I want for you to do is blame yourself,” Jaebum finishes, leaving you speechless. 

Keep reading

my-kyloren-romance  asked:

hey! sorry i can't seem to find a pretend boyfriends tag. maybe i missed it or you don't have one, but i thought i'd ask! love you guys!

Hi @my-kyloren-romance! We do have one. It’s just under fake/pretend relationship. And here’s a list as well! - Anastasia

Originally posted by gayonabudget

You Found Another Way To Tell The Truth by RemainNameless

(1/1 I 3,393 I Teen I Sterek I Stilinski Family Feels)

The one where the Sheriff finds Derek in Stiles’s room in a compromising position and Derek maybe makes it worse. (Or better.)
Derek POV. Because this is a thing there needs to be more of.

can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 6,260 I Teen I Sterek I Thanksgiving)

“Be cool, Dad, we’ve decided to con Grandma.”

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Sending Out an S.O.S. by fauvistfly

(1/1 I 6,522 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek decides he might be ready to start dating again, so the pack creates a signal that Derek can use if he ever needs saving from an uncomfortable situation. The signal somehow comes to mean that Stiles will pretend to be Derek’s boyfriend. Eventually, Stiles saves Derek so many times that the lines begin to blur.

In which there are fake boyfriends, flirting, music festivals, a bit with a puppy, a cameo by Jack Falahee, and honest kissing.

Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 18,009 I Teen I Sterek)

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That’s… huh.

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

Take Me Back To The Start by thingcalledlove

(13/13 I 25,863 I Mature I Sterek, Scallison, Berica, Jydia I Actor!Derek)

Derek had never intended to be named People’s Sexiest Man Alive. It just sort of happens.

[Or, in which Derek stumbles into stardom, becoming the next big thing and Stiles somehow stumbles (read: gets pushed unwillingly by the rest of the pack) into the role of Derek’s PR boyfriend.]

Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

(6/6 I 27,067 I Sterek, Scallison I Mates)

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that’s not what it’s called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he’s not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

A Cunning Plan by yodasyoyo

(17/17 I 32,711 I Teen I Sterek, Laura/Lydia I High School AU)

Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.

Not Your Disney Romance by tylerfucklin (zimothy)

(5/5 I 42,065 I Mature I Sterek)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

He’s Not Mine by Sunnee

(19/19 I 68,534 I Explicit I Sterek I Accidental Baby Acquisition)

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

With or Without You by KouriArashi

(13/13 I 62,556 I Teen I Sterek I Mating Rituals)

Derek thinks that the mating rituals are overly romanticized bullshit, but claiming a mate and defending them from challengers is something werewolves do, and his pack can’t afford to appear weak after the fire. Especially not when Deucalion and his friends are in town for the rituals. Enter Stiles Stilinski, who offers to let Derek claim him so he won’t be overrun at the ceremonies. Nothing goes as expected.

According to Plans by eldee

(6/6 I 72,744 I Explicit I Sterek, Berica, Scallison, Jydia)

Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn’t have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles’ plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)  

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

(11/ I 83,980 I Explicit I Sterek I Magic)

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

pennyroyalcas  asked:

Can I have a single parents au please? I love single dad Dean and Cas, and I know you guys have done a similar ask before, but I'd love some more! You guys are my favorite blog!

Originally posted by omg-itscastiel

Thanks for the kind words! They really do make my day. Single parent AU is the best, especially with daddy Dean. I don’t want to rec the same stories all over again so…

HERE is a link to our daddy Dean tag

and HERE to Daddy Cas tag 

and fluff rec with a lot of single parent AU fics is HERE.

–  Admin A

Title: Road, You Gotta Take Me Home

Author: rockstarpeach

Rating: Explicit

Words: 32,000 – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin A’s notes: I wish there would have been more Destiel moments but overall this was a pretty good fic. Like Admin J, I’m not the biggest fan of Ben since he’s always there reminding me of Dean’s dark past with Lisa that I’m still trying to forget. But I do have to admit that the relationship between Ben and Dean here was heartbreakingly sweet and made my motherly instincts want to jump into the fanfic and be part of their family :’D

Summary: After his ex-girlfriend is killed in a car accident, Dean gains custody of her fourteen year old son. They know it’s going to be difficult, with the stress of grief and unfamiliar living conditions weighing on them, but neither of them is ready for just how difficult it really is, trying to feel out where they belong in the confusion and aftermath of such a great loss. They deal with it though. They’re family. What other choice do they have?

A family drama, featuring Dean as a new single father, Ben as a ninth grader with trouble coping, Sam as the voice of reason and the rock that holds Dean up and Cas as the sympathetic police officer who repeatedly busts Ben for petty crimes.

( Read here )

Title: Make Love and Get Paid

Author: thepinupchemist

Rating: Explicit

Words: 13,137– Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin A’s notes: Being Sam’s guardian counts as being a single parent right! I thought so too! This is a great fic with awesome smut scenes.

Summary: Castiel does not expect the figure model at his drawing class to be so handsome.

Nor does he expect to sleep with him, know his baby brother, or fall stupidly in love with him.

Dean does not expect Castiel-the-artist to have nipple rings, volunteer at the library, or become such a huge part of his life.

But hey, they roll with the punches.

( Read here )

Title: My Only Sunshine

Author: destielshipper

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 90,454  – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★

Admin A’s notes: Way too much drama for my taste but I’m a boring old person anyway so don’t listen to me. I’m sorry, I really can’t remember much about this fic except that I abandoned it halfway because the drama got too ridiculous for me.

Summary: Dean Winchester knows many things but when a tragic incident leaves him a single parent to his only son he is helpless until a kind stranger with an odd name intervenes and his life takes an unexpected turn. It’s an act of kindness that takes them down an surprising path leading towards something they had always secretly craved.

( Read here )

Title: Sometimes It Fits

Author: ballsdeepinwinchesters

Rating: Explicit

Words: 37,720 - Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin A’s notes: Best smut ever. I need more fics like this in my life.
Summary: Castiel is an over-worked, socially awkward neurosurgeon; Dean is the ruggedly handsome paramedic that asks him out for drinks. The rest kind of fell into place.

( Read here )

Title: Remarkable

Author: shiphitsthefan

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 3,751 - Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★

Admin A’s notes: I need more, please one more chapter at least! PLEASE! This is so sweet and perfect and I need to know what happens on their date!

Summary: It’s only Castiel’s first day as a teacher at All City Elementary in Sioux Falls, and he’s already been warned by four teachers, the guidance counselor, the principal, and the librarian to watch out for Ben Braeden’s father. Unluckily for Castiel, Dean turns out to be just as “helpful” as everyone’s said, bringing in stacks of literature and just as many ideas for how Mr. Milton can encourage his students to be more socially conscious. Castiel dismisses him every time with hardly a second thought.

When Ben brings in his Patriot Day essay assignment, Mr. Milton can’t help but change his mind.

( Read here )

brispeak  asked:

I see you give all these people such great advice and I have this huge problem so I thought I'd ask you. In my novel there's this conspiracy theory that turns out to be true but I want it to sound as if this conspiracy theory is the most unbelievably, unrealistic thing possible in this universe. I want them to be utterly convinced that the believers in this theory are nut jobs well before they find out that it is indeed true. What's your advice?

To make a conspiracy theory you need the following ingredients

  • An event
  • Someone asking a question. Sometimes the question
  • Evidence
  • Logic
  • People willing to believe in a conspiracy theory
  • People willing not to believe a conspiracy theory

After you’ve gathered all those ingredients, you need.

  • A context

Now the recipe

  1. Choose your event .It can be an accident, the death of a public figure, a natural disaster, a war, a terrorist attack, something related to the food industry, or to the health system, an abandoned place, a moment in history, even dates can be a conspiracy theory.
  2. Show information related to your event. The what and how the information is presented is crucial for the next step. (X person died and X person was killed are not the same, just like We are eating human meat! and X industry is putting human meat in our food)
  3. Now the question. First, who’s asking the question (it’s not the same a respectable figure than the guy who’s always seeing conspiracy theories). Second, what kind of question the conspiracy theory wants to answer, you already have what or who (your event), you can use: how, why, who else is related, who gave the order, how they kept it hidden, who’s helping, when did it start, and the most important, why they haven’t told us everything about the event.
  4. On this step you have to provide evidence to support the answers to your questions. You can get evidence from everywhere and any kind of evidence can help you.
  5. Let your event and your questions rest for a few minutes and work on the evidence and information. For this you will need logic. Any logic that to your eyes makes sense will work. A leads to B; B leads to C, ergo A leads to C. Water contains iron, therefore any kind of beberage contains iron. Remember it has to make sense to some people.
  6. Don’t forget the context. A conspiracy theory about war in peacefull times is not the same than a war conspiracy theory during war times.
  7. Mix everything and make public your conspiracy theory. If it gets viral, even better. Some people will believe it, some other people won’t. But that’s the idea.
  8. Congratulations! You have a conspiracy theory to feed the hungry.

Things to keep in mind:

Many conspiracy theories are about things civilian population can’t prove true or false. How are we suppose to know our world leaders are humans and not reptilians? How can we know the meat we eat comes from cows and not from horses? How can we know, for sure, if the moon landing was real and not fake? How can we know Homer actually existed?

Some conspiracy theories have more than one event. Tesla made a machine to create earthquakes, X government stole that machine, they have kept said machine in an abandoned area or a military area and they used that machine to create the earthquake that stroke Indonesia in 2004 to warn the reptilians about a conspiracy theory related to them (I just made that up).

Some people live under the motto, everything is a conspiracy theory until proven true. The reason why they believe in conspiracy theories is one of questions you have to answer in your novel. Why they choose to believe in certain conspiracy theories while others are left behind? And how are they trying to warn the rest of the population about the event? Do they yell on the streets? Do they protest? Do they send chain emails? Do they test certain food or vaccine?

Who are the people who believe in conspiracy theories? Do they dress in a certain way? Do they carry something with them, like Homer wasn’t real? Have they modified some part of their bodies to be noticed? What are their resources? If you want people to see them nuts, show them doing  unusual things to prove their theory, show mass media mocking them for believing in a different version of a story or history. How the government reacts towards them, the police, the army, the church?

Some others questions, how  will be your conspiracy theory proven true? Do its believers have everything they need in order to prove it true or someone or something (like an institution or an organization) is helping them?

Here are some links that can help you to get a better idea:

A brief history of conspiracy theories

A theory of conspiracy theories

How conspiracy theories work

The normal life of crazy conspiracy theories

Why people believe conspiracy theories

The worlds top 15 conspiracy theories of all time

18 “Conspiracy theories” that were proven true

25 Conspiracy theories that turned out to be true

Good luck with your conspiracy theory (:


anonymous asked:

...If you still want to write stuff: 18. for KaiShin, pretty please?

This is obviously crazy late, but to make up for it, it’s also incredibly long.  I hope you enjoy it.  8)  Thank you again for sending the prompt request.  I had fun writing this!

“Well, how are you feeling?” Haibara asked, voice flat, but eyes betraying her concern.  Shinichi took stock:  body at its correct proportions, no fever, no pain…

“I feel… okay,” Shinichi said, smile slowly stretching across his face.  “Haibara, I think we did it.”  He laughed helplessly, pressing his hands to his face.  He felt like he could cry with the sheer relief.

“I’d like to run some checks, just in case,” Haibara said, sighing quietly.  “You remember the questions we prepared yesterday?”

“The ones to check my memory?”

“Yes.  I’ll start from the beginning.  Please state your name and occupation.”

“My name is Kudou Shinichi, and I’m a student detective.  I most often work for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force.”

“I’d like you to name your closest friends for me.”

“Mouri Ran and Suzuki Sonoko are my childhood friends; Ran, my childhood crush.  Hattori Heiji is a hot-blooded detective from Osaka and one of my best friends and something of a rival.  The Detective Boys are Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, Genta, and Haibara.  They’re supervised—kind of—by Professor Agasa.  I work the most often with Inspector Megure and Detectives Satou and Takagi, along with Mouri Kogoro, Ran’s father.”

“Impressive.  As expected of Kudou,” Haibara said smiling.  Turning back to her notes, she continued, asking him to detail their operation from start to finish, explain the deductions he’d made at the end…

It was weird, though, for all he could answer every question, he felt like he was forgetting something.  But if it wasn’t in Haibara’s note cards, it must not have been all that important.

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