i might even write a fanfic

Yoongi Fic Recs

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

Alrighty my peeps(ewww why am i like this), It’s about time i madde one of these. I’m terrible at writing fics but i love reading them and i think I’ve read enough to start this list of fic recommendations for yoongi. I think I might make one for each member of bts(would you guys even want that?)
but idk….

all bolded fics or writers mentioned are ones that have been recently added.

Also if you ever want to send me your own fic recommendations I”m always up for some more reading…

Last Updated:1/31/2017

💖 = Personal Favorite



Writers Mentioned:

@jaebumgotme @imsarabum @btsfiles @chokemejimin @heartachetosing @floralseokjin @dangerouslycasualchild @sleepyypetals @taetaetown @kpoppabos @roseok @an-exotic-writer @war-of-hormoan @kookingtae@jungblue @bts-sexy-reads @ibangtanthings @minnochu @colourfulnoodles @versigny@chimchims @thotmi @tahyungs @minthusiast @jungkxook @ohbabyitsbts @sugaslittlekookie @trashfortaexkook @noir0neko @dailydoseofdia @dreamscript @kdreamscenario @sugajpg @bulletproof-fantasies @btsugaplums

Special Lady

Pairng: Tom x Reader

Warnings: None really just fluff

Word Count: 461

A/N: My very first go at writing Tom so be gentle with me. I got a few more drabble ideas so this will not be the last you see of him on my blog and I might also do a one shot or two or… in the future :)

Usually Tom loved premieres. He loved meeting the fans and engaging with people.He even enjoyed talking to the reporters, making a point of remembering as many of their names as possible. Tom had found kindness made his job a lot easier. Not that he had to try hard, Tom was simply just himself. Putting on a fake facade took up too much energy he found early on.

Even if Tom wasn’t fake he was still a private man. He knew you had been seen with him around New York earlier today and he knew there was going to be questions. Questions Tom were ready for but he also knew you weren’t. He had tried convincing you to join him tonight, but he had respected your decision not to. Fame was part of his life, not yours. You both knew you were going to be thrown in head first sooner or later as you were both very serious about each other but tonight was just not the night.

Tom had gotten through most of the reporters without anyone bringing up the paparazzi pictures that were already floating the internet and he was just starting to think he was going get home free, when a female journalist call attention to the fact that he was alone.

“So Tom we thought you’d might be bringing a special someone with you tonight?” she asked flashing him a smile, and Tom couldn’t help but blush a little and laugh with her choice of words.

“Sorry,” Tom smiled at her, “there is a special someone but she is working tonight.”

“Oh yeah on a Thursday evening?” the reporter pushed with a smile which Tom didn’t hesitate to return.

“Yes grating papers. She’s a teacher,” Tom answered still smiling, finding he loved being able to share just a little bit about you with the world. He couldn’t wait until the moment came where you were finally gonna let him show you off.

“Does this special someone have a name?” the reporter kept pushing just as Tom’s assistant rested a hand on his arm letting him know it was time to move inside.

“Y/N.” Tom smiled as he backed up, “and that is all you are getting for tonight.”


You were sitting in front of your laptop with a huge goofy grin on your face. You were supposed to be working but you hadn’t been able to refrain from clicking on the livestream of Tom’s premiere. The smile on his face when he spoke your name were instantly mirrored on yours and you slightly regretted you weren’t there with him tonight.

“Next time,” you promised yourself as you closed your laptop, beginning to count the minutes until your boyfriend would be back at the hotel with you.

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Everyone’s Halfas!

Danny closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing as his sister and his parents filed into the room. He felt like he could look everywhere but the table, with Jazz, Maddie, and Jack silent… waiting. (With Jack in his extra-large chair.)

After a few seconds of silence, he took his seat.
“So, Danny?” Jack asked, “You said you needed to… tell us something?”
Danny looked straight ahead. There was no turning back now.

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no offense but straight fans are the ones that always push pairings onto idols and harass them about ships and are generally intrusive but gay fans get labeled as predatory what kind of logic is that hmm. gay fans aren’t predatory for thinking that maybe their idol might be gay too. it’s the straight (usually girl) fans that take it to another level and get all up in the idols’ faces and i’m just so Tired of gay fans not being able to even express thoughts bc everybody assumes we’re just as bad as the straight fangirls who write fanfic about their favs and call it a sin. i am Tired of straight people commenting hanjoo on hansol’s pics for so long that he no longer feels safe around his friend on camera. i am so so so Tired of every straight fan who ships kaisoo or chanbaek or whatever the hell kind of ship but at the same time talks about lesbians being gross. i am Tired and i Hate this.

So considering I’m pretty well bedridden today and probably tomorrow thanks to my foot, I might try to write a one shot or start a new fic, but I don’t know what it’ll involve yet. I’m considering this soulmate AU though. Maybe Namjin or Yoonmin? I don’t know yet

Something New

Author’s Note: I wrote this for the goddess @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s Negan Writing Challenge. I chose the breath play as my prompt, and loved it! Negan has been my biggest writing inspiration lately, so this was a ton of fun to write. 

Summary: You’re one of Negan’s wives, might even be his favorite in fact, what happens when he finds out a hidden kink of yours?

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,124

Warnings: its pretty much all SMUT, breath play, aftercare, negan being negan(my personal favorite ;)), little fluff

BETA: the best @ardethbayiscraycray

tags at the bottom

Originally posted by rikkisixx

You had made your entrance into the Sanctuary about a year ago now, and everything had changed. Sure, the world was still shit, but you had a place now. At first, you were just one of the many, a peasant in Negan’s kingdom you could say. But now, by some twist of fate, it seemed you might be Negan’s favorite wife. Of course, this was much to the dislike of the other seemingly countless wives he kept alongside you. It was almost as if he needed you more often than the others, and kept you with him much longer than any of the other women, and you definitely weren’t complaining. 

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fathomless-a  asked:

How about Jughead and Betty having a date in the woods and suddenly the whole gang shows up and ruined their romantic date? 😬🙊

CHARACTERS: Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews, Kevin Keller
TIME FRAME: After S01E07
LOCATION: The woods
SUMMARY: Betty & Jughead plan a date in the woods, but the entire gang follows them and thus ends up ruining their date.
NOTES: I had so much fun writing this one! I’m always critical about my writing and never end up liking anything I write, but I rather like the connection between the beginning and the ending of this one. I hope readers enjoy this one shot as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, tell me what you think. Don’t hesitate to request and send in more prompts!

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Title: who are you to make me feel so good?
Rating: M
Warning: Smut, jealousy, and getting it on in a natural spring. Yeah, this escalated quickly.
Character: Keith Alford
Alternative Moment: Main Story, Chapter 6
Song: cardiac arrest
Summary: His country’s economy is on the verge of collapse. His father sent him away like a child to play nice with the other princes. And now, he’s stranded on a goddamn deserted island with no way to contact a rescue party. There are bigger problems to deal with than how his butler’s flirting with her, so why can’t he stop thinking about it?

Requested By: The two anons that wanted to see a jealous Keith, and something to do with the plane crash. Enjoy!

He has to admit, and oh my is he utterly loath to do so, but the island is beautiful.

The sand is a crystalline, off-white hue that contrasts starkingly against the hypnotic blue of the sea. The trees are full and green, the underbrush peppered with colors of the natural flora. The sun is hot but the ocean breeze is crisp, making the weather humid but not unpleasant.

Had he been here under any other circumstances, it would have been a nice vacation spot. But no, instead he is forced to sit idly while they desperately try to make contact with a rescue team.

It shouldn’t be taking this long, he thinks. He’s been missing for nearly sixteen hours now, he can’t imagine they aren’t at least curious as to where he’s gone.

Even at gunpoint, he would never admit how overwhelming he finds this entire scenario. He’s powerless, hopelessly so, and in his weakness he is panicking. He’s never felt so vulnerable in his entire life, and that doesn’t sit well with him.

He notices movement out of the corner of his eye, and is greeted by the smiling faces of his useless butler and the woman who doesn’t seem to know when to shut her mouth.

They’ve spent a majority of the day off searching the west side of the island. And though he got curious enough to wander after them initially, just in time to catch her stupidly trying to climb a tree and catch her before she broke that slender neck, he quickly conceded defeat. He had done his part, by getting the fruit from atop the tower branches. But no, those two were determined to scour as much of the island as they could before sunset.

She’s beautiful, he notes not for the first time, when her face is alight joy. Hell, even when she’s insulting him and giving him a piece of her unfiltered mind she is stunning. The way her eyes flame up and her indignant stare burns into him makes his heart race and gives him the same adrenaline rush he gets from athletics.

But she’s never smiled at him like that. He’s only ever seen the annoyance, up until now. And that bothers him more than he’d care to admit.

God, if she isn’t the most infuriating woman he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting.

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His Little Problem

Joker x Reader

One Shot (but might make a second part)

Description: The Joker’s been stuck at Arkham Asylum for months, unable to break out no matter what he tries and it all leads back to her. The new guard at Arkham Asylum might just give Joker a challenge. 

Warning: Mention of death and near death experience (probably isn’t even a warning because its not that bad in this story…) Also I’m sorta new to writing fanfics so sorry for mistakes and/or if the story doesn’t run smoothly. 

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Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: Sam walks in on a very insecure reader wearing a bikini.

Words: 1,215

Pairing/Characters: SamxReader, mentions of Dean

Warning: Body image insecurities… Fluff. Mention of smut.

Author’s Note: So, I struggle with body image all the time and a friend of mine has had it bad lately. I wrote this for her (even thought my writing is trash), but I thought some people might like it here. It’s just an experience with my own body image I guess? I don’t claim to know anything about how it is for others or what anyone else is going through. All of you are beautiful and we shouldn’t feel any pressure to look a certain way. Anyway… I hope this makes someone out there feel a little better.

Originally posted by sam-and-dean-winchesters

You hated bikinis, yet there you were standing in front of your mirror in one. Well it wasn’t bikinis you supposed, it was your body. Bikinis just highlighted the parts of your body that you hated, your stomach mainly. You liked your legs, they were long and strong, and you’d come to terms with a few stretch marks on your thighs. Everyone has the marks, you would tell yourself, it happens. No one had a perfect body, but your stomach, you just couldn’t look past it. And no matter what you did it was never enough. You were in shape for the most part, you exercised and ate well, you just weren’t a flat-stomached girl. To you, it bulged out so much, you looked potbellied or something. It was… ugly.

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Message to any and all writers out there, whether you’ve been writing for years or just started: DO NOT DELETE A SINGLE THING.

Your writing is a part of you, shows your readers how much you’ve changed and even those unfinished WIPs have fans who go back to reread.

Be proud of how you’ve grown, don’t worry about RT’s, kudos, or reblogs (hard I know) because you HAVE FANS.

They might be quiet, they might be few, but they’re there. Be proud of every word you’ve let loose since the first time you wrote a story on paper as a kid or even on a computer as an adult.


Somewhere, Someday, part ten

Characters – Sam x Reader, OC x Reader, Dean, Cas

Summary – The reader continues to hide her deepening feelings for Sam, even while her heart is breaking.

Word Count – 3,426

Warnings – None

A/N – All right, ladies and gents, just a head’s up: I don’t plan on going into the events that were in the show in this story.  I’m might take a few things here and there that match well with where this particular story is going (i.e., the bunker location), but it won’t be canon.  I’m just not up for a series rewrite – sorry!  But I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

However, if you are interested in reading a reader-insert series rewrite, @torn-and-frayed has a Dean x Reader one that is just freaking amazing that you all have to go check out.  She is up to season 5 so far (as of this posting); you can find it here.

Catch Up: Somewhere, Someday Series Masterlist

Originally posted by themegalosaurus

Your name: submit What is this?

Sam’s arms had relaxed around yours again, and you rested your head against his chest for the rest of the drive home.  While Dean drove, you thought back on the few boys who’d had the courage to ask you out. You had shared some steamy make out sessions with a couple of them, but it had never really gotten farther than that. Now, you realized that you’d always been looking for that connection you had with Sam.  And you’d never found it.  No one else had ever been good enough for you.  Not because they weren’t amazing, sweet, smart guys.  But because they weren’t Sam.


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because love takes time

I’ve got three prompts lined up in my inbox I haven’t even started on but this kept bugging me so I figured I’d write it down.

You can send me sanvers prompts here and you can find my other fics here.

Summary: basically Maggie taking care of a drunk Alex. Post 2x06 because I’m all about that angst.

Maggie wasn’t a heartbreaker. Not necessarily.

There’d been a few occasions where she’d politely turned people down, or where she’d been the one to break things off simply because she’d lost the spark or where she’d suddenly felt the need to end the relationship because things were getting too serious too fast. But she was always sure to be gentle, and understanding, and to give the other person space, to end things on a good note. She wasn’t mean about things like that, ever. She wasn’t a heartbreaker

So when Alex had come to the alien bar that night to tell her she’d come out to Kara, to ask for that drink she’d promised her and to – to Maggie’s utter surprise – kiss her, Maggie had made sure to be gentle, and to be understanding, to give Alex space and to end things on a good note, however hard that had been for her to do.

Maggie wasn’t a heartbreaker. Not necessarily.

But the second she saw Alex’s face after she’d told her it wasn’t the right time, that everything was too new for her, that she should experience things on her own first, she knew that that was exactly what she’d done. She’d broken her heart.

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“Find Your Outlet” - Sam A.G.W

A Rowaelin’s child / Rowaelin as parents short fanfic. 

After writing this, I kind of love it. Who knows, maybe I might write more. But totally after exams. 

He felt like a mouse caught in a trap. Or a cornered dog. Or a bird, without its wings. He had never felt more alone, even though he was with the person he loved. The persons he loved. 

His mother had told him to find an outlet. Some door-way for all his stress to flow out, if only slowly over time. Sam knew his mother definitely didn’t mean dating two people at the same time. His mother’s outlet was his father. He knew that. 

Sam’s only problem was figuring out which one was his outlet. But between the way Esther let him sit in her lap, stroking his hair slowly and telling him stories of Fenharrow and her immigrant grandparents from the Southern continent, and when Arlen sparred with him, mocking him until Sam let loose some of that magic, even burning him sometimes, Sam had never been able to choose his outlet. 

They were both incredible wonderful Fae. He had known what he was doing was wrong, every time he kissed one of them, only to kiss the other a few hours later. 

Sam watched with wide eyes as Arlen and Esther stared each other down, before turning on him. The only con with dating the best people in the world (and frankly the scariest), was the fact that they were turning on him at this very moment. 

“Sam,” Esther said softly. She crossed her arms over her tunic and bit her lip. “how could you?” 

“I didn’t mean to. It just-”

“Happened?” Arlen cut him off. The demi-Fae male leaned back against the bookshelf and he crossed his arms next, raising an eyebrow. “You just happened to start dating two people at the same time?”

Sam bowed his head and he nodded slightly. He cringed as Esther gave a frustrated scream and felt Arlen’s cold blue eyes piercing their way right through his soul. 

“Sam!” Esther screamed. She picked up a book and chucked it against the wall. Arlen tilted his head aside to avoid the book and he gave the female an appreciative eyebrow raise. 

“I’m so sorry. Please. Just, give me a moment” Sam slid down the wall and he pulled his knees into his chest. He felt that familiar burning feeling behind his eyes and he stared into one of the ceiling lights until it disappeared. For now. 

“Don’t bother” Arlen grabbed his jacket. He slid it across his shoulders and pulled his arms through. Sam’s eyes had dropped to the hint of his v he had seen when his shirt had slid up his golden skin. “Good bye, Sam” Arlen walked across the library and Sam jumped up, grabbing his arm. 

“Arlen, please” Sam whimpered as the male ripped his arm out of his grasp and he shook his head. Arlen shoved Sam’s shoulder away slightly and the library doors slammed behind him. 


“No, Sam” Esther said. She stopped fiddling with the strings on her tunic and she ducked under Sam’s arm before following Arlen out of the library. Sam whimpered and he sunk to his knees.

He braced his palms on the wooden floor and he roared, as fire erupted from his fingertips. Blue, gold, and white danced across his scarred fingers and the fire slowly spread across the room. 

The smell of burning wood engulfed the library. The fire turned to a burning red and orange as it ran over the table tops. Sam screamed again and he clenched his fingers, the fire soaring higher. 

The fire flew towards the ceiling, surrounding Sam on all sides. Tears slowly dripped down his face and Sam buried his face in his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs and listened to the fire eating away at the wood and the books. 

Sam shook as the flames caused the bookshelves to go crashing down. He shook as he hugged his knees to his chest and the flames ate away at everything in sight. Everything but him. 

Sam felt arms wrap around him and he stayed limp as they slowly dragged him out of the library. He heard feminine grunts and he tripped the girl as they both came falling out of the burning library.

His sister was hacking violently. She wrapped one arm around Sam’s shoulders and the other around her mouth. Nehemia wheezed and she pulled Sam farther away from the flames that were slowly crawling out the library. 

Lyria came soaring through the flames and she lifted her hands up. Water came bursting out like a wall. She looked back at her siblings and screamed something that sounded a lot like, “Run”. 

Nehemia propelled Sam forward with a storm of wind, causing her silver hair to fly back from her face. Sam landed on his face outside of the library. He buried his face in the grass, his body still trembling, smoke still rising from his clothes. His sisters. 

Sam flipped onto his back and he put his hand over his face, watching as his sisters, a mix of silver hair, used their wind and water to battle down the flames. Sam stared at the scorch marks on his palms and he sobbed falling back against the grass. He closed his eyes, only catching a glimpse of his mother. 

“What happened?” Sam heard his mother’s voice. He groaned and his eyes slowly fluttered open. He heard shuffling and suddenly he felt small hands wrap around his arm. 

Sam didn’t fight as he pressed his face into his mother’s dress. He opened his eyes completely and saw his sisters slipping out of his room, giving him small, sad glances. They could have completely burned out. He had put his sisters in danger. 

Sam started to sob, and Aelin ran her fingers through her son’s blonde hair. She kissed the top of his head softly and hugged Sam tightly, keeping the blanket wrapped around his waist. “I know. It’s tragic. That was my favorite library. It’s okay, Sam” Aelin whispered, kissing his sweaty forehead. 

“I don’t want it. The crown or the flames” Sam blinked through his tears. He held his mother harder, even as he shook wilder. 

“What happened, Sam?” Aelin whispered. She braced her chin on top of his head, brushing the bright golden curls. “Who hurt you?”

“No one. Mom, I hurt them” Sam sniffed. He brushed his tears away with his shirtsleeve. He looked down at the fresh cotton, closing his eyes once more. “Esther and Arlen” Sam answer her next un-asked question. 

He sat up and pulled his knees forward again, brushing his face once more. “Remember when you told me to find an outlet?” Sam whispered. Aelin nodded and she sat next to Sam, holding his hand gently. “I found…two” Aelin raised her eyebrows. “I started dating two people-”

“What happened?” His father burst into the room and his mother gave an exasperated sigh, slamming her palm against her forehead. Sam groaned and he slid under the blankets, curling into a ball. 

“Rowan, gods” His mother grumbled. His father stalked across the room and knelt in front of the bed. Sam rolled over, not wanting to meet his father’s eyes. The entirety of his life, Sam had so many good examples of how to be a proper gentleman, a good male. His father, his uncle Aedion, his other uncles Fenrys and Connall and his husband Vaughan, even Lord Lorcan, not to mention King Dorian and his Hand, Chaol. 

He felt as if he had failed them all, the way he had treated the two people he loved. That was his first mistake, loving two people. It was stupid, stupid, stupid. “Sam” His father said softly. 

“Shh” His mother hissed. Sam sniffled and he wiped his face, fresh tears already staining them. 

“Mom, I dated both of them” His father squawked loudly. Both him and his mother groaned and Sam didn’t have to roll over to know his father had grown feathers in a matter of seconds. How wonderful. 

“Esther, she’s so…perfect. I can’t explain it. It feels like she understands everything. Like..she gets the pressure I’m under being Crown Prince. She just gets it, and she gets what I would like and what I do like. She’s a good listener too. She feels like the wind to my flame” Sam whispered. His mother brushed his hair again. 

“But then Arlen. He-” His father squawked again and Sam heard the hawk slam into the wall. Aelin gasped and she started laughing. Sam sat up slightly and he saw a hawk struggling to get up. His wings and feathers were completely askew. What a wonderful dad he had. 

“Arlen. He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t even try to” It made Sam laugh. “He just..acts. He makes me angry or irritated and he lets me unleash my magic. He’s let me burn him, he lets me cry, he lets me break down. But he helps me to slowly build myself back up, and find what my trigger emotions are and…gods, they’re both wonderful!”

“And I’ve lost them both” Sam whispered. He started crying again and he screamed into his pillow, biting down on it. He heard numerous squawking. Sam didn’t think his father knew he was bi. His mother knew, of course. She was the Queen of Drama. She lived for the stuff. Especially when it came to her children, and everyone’s children really. 

“Yes, Rowan. No, Rowan. Shut up, Rowan” His mother grumbled. Sam found it amusing his mother could understand the random bird noises that came out of his father’s beak. 

His mother slowly lied down with him and she big spooned him. Sam closed his eyes and he snuggled with his mother, his tears dropping onto the green and silver duvet. His green eyes burned with new tears and Sam shuddered. 

“Do you love them, Sam? Both of them?”

“I’m the worst male in the world” Sam nodded. He did. He loved both of them. He loved laughing with both of them. He loved reading with both of them. Sparring with both of them. Even their arguments, which turned into the best kisses Sam had ever had. Yes, gods yes, he enjoyed both Esther and Arlen’s lips. 

“Well,” Aelin tapped her chin gently. She threw a pillow at the hawk that was flying around, letting loose battle cries. Most of which consisted of promising to peck out numerous eyes, which would help no one. “I’ve never heard of it happening, but then again I’m one who thinks rules are made to be broken-” Another squawk came from his father. “Sam, you can make her Queen and him prince-consort. Or the other way around. Two kings and a queen-consort. Or you can make them both consorts if you don’t want to put one over the other”

“You’re right, mother. No one’s ever heard of a King having a husband and a wife” Sam slammed a pillow over his head and he groaned, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold back new tears. 

He wished he had normal problems. Like King Dorian’s son, Ceylon. That one had girls climbing walls just to get to him. Even his daughter, Kaltain, had it easy. Sam blamed it on the fact that their father was the hottest darn thing to exist. They had the best there was when it came to the gene pool. 

He felt the bed shift and Sam was glad his father had gotten over his hawk-seizure. “Sam. Nothing will work unless you make it work” His father said. Sam looked up and he saw his father put his hand behind his head, trying to look okay with his son’s situation. “For once, stop thinking like a Crown Prince. And think like Sam”

“What am I without a crown?” Sam whispered. 

Aelin huffed. He hugged Sam tighter and Sam wheezed gently. “You are our son. You are a blonde, with green eyes, and fire magic. You have two amazing sisters. You’re a hawk. You have the best cousins. You love swimming. You love painting. You are Sam Ashryver Galanthynius Whitethorn. Sardothien too, if it suits you”

“You guys should really reconsider all these last names” Sam joked lightly. 

Aelin and Rowan both laughed and they hugged their son, Aelin burying her face in his back. “You’re going to be just fine, Sam” His father whispered. 

“I hope so” Sam whispered back. He slowly fell asleep, in a tight embrace with his parents. They didn’t leave him, Lyria and Nehemia even joined, sleeping in the chairs in his room. 

Even if he wasn’t fine, he would be fine. Because Sam had a father, mother, and two annoyingly protective sisters that all loved him to death. So yes, he would be fine. 

Someone asked “I’ll protect you no matter what - even if it kills me : gravebone”

yess anon, thank you I will do this. Here you go. This is sort of in the same timeline as A Long Night’s Journey Into Day, and I might actually end up using bits of it in there, so thank you!

“An Obscurus is a parasitic force, Credence.  I think you’ve survived this long because it hasn’t been active until very recently.  I’m not sure if we can ever separate it from you, but if you use it, if you let it use you, it could kill you. Please don’t use it.”

Newt Scamander, for as strongly as Percival disagrees with his methods, is a good man.  A better man than most, all things considered, and for Credence he meant well.  Four months ago Newt had sat down with the both of them at the small kitchen table in his homey house in the south of England, to discuss what he had discovered so far on the nature of Obscurials, and what, if anything, Percival Graves could do to help.  It had been an awkward affair, with Credence’s feet tucked under his legs, with Percival’s shirtsleeves rolled up as he tapped impatiently on the wood, and with Newt’s harrowed attempt at playing host to a sea of troubles. Credence never once looked up once at the tightly wound remains of a man he hadn’t truly seen months, in spite of what Grindelwald had lead him to believe. Newt had entreated Credence to try very hard not to use that darkness.  He believed that they could work on differentiating the force that knotted up inside of him from the pure stream of magic he should be able to tap into.  Four months ago they went to work, and for the most part had been successful.  Apart from a few incidents early on, Credence seemed to be learning how to keep himself in check.  Newt’s hope had been that the Obscurus would have nothing to feed on and, after some time, shrink into nothing but a knot in Credence’s chest, a scar of pure magical energy that could do no harm. 

So much for that theory.  The thought passed through his mind with dry cynicism as qulckly as it came, overpowered by a much more appropriate panic.  So much for that, when he didn’t block an attack quickly enough and stumbled, catching himself with his arm to so as not to hit the ground with all of the force of his body.  So much for that, when Credence erupted into a mass of blackness with a pained shout tearing up from deep in his stomach.  There was no time to think, no time to stare at this mass of energy that raged and ricocheted with seeming ignorance for place, and time, and space. He was up in an instant, shouting into the mass for Credence to stop, to hear him as he tried spell after spell to get past that wall of cold rage. When this thing began to subside, pulsing as it seeped inwards into itself, Percival pushed forwards with nervous terror, not at the Obscurus itself as it recoiled through it’s own personal howling void, but at the worry of what might be left when it had gone.  

There were two corpses there when he could see through again, when the Obscurus had receded.  Two corpses and Credence, heaving violently, breathing vocally, hunched into himself on the ground. Percival rushed to him, dropping down to his knees to reach and grasp at the boy to see if he was alright.  

“Credence–look at me, Credence.  Say something, can you hear me?” 

His eyes were still hollow and white as he shook, his lips trembling as he gasped for breath, like he was drowning on dry ground. Percival’s hands clutched at Credence’s face to steady him and through a firm grasp and a calming voice Credence came to himself again.  His eyes cleared, the shaking slowed and softened, he found his breath and his cold hands reached to clutch at Percival’s wrists.  He worried his bottom lip under his teeth as he steadied his breath through his nose, and the air around him became calm once again.  

Together they breathed, in, and out.  

“Mr. Graves–”

“It’s Percival, I’ve already told you. Are you alright?”

“I’m…I’m alright, are you?  Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine, nothing I couldn’t handle…what did you do, Credence my boy,”  Percival asked as a hand moved up to stroke the boy’s hair, to push it out of his face, to set a calming rhythm to his boy’s bones. “There was no reason, you could have…you know what you could have done.”  

Credence’s grip on Percival’s wrists tightened, meeting Percival with a severity not often seen on his face, one that spoke of purpose and resolve.  

“I’ll protect you no matter what Mr. Graves, even if it kills me.”  

“Oh Credence…” Pulling Credence into a hug, Percival released a long-held breath into the boy’s hair.  He let his tension settle within Credence’s tight grip around his back, holding on to all there was left to have.  


I was gonna update with some new material, but while reading through the tags this past week, I saw a lot of confusion and questions about full outfits and heights, motives,appearances, etc. I thought you all might appreciate some more insight on the story so far instead. I’ve had so many requests to draw fanart, write fanfic of this, and even cosplay so I hope this helps! Thanks for all the love and patience! (sorry this update was a bit late!!)

 If you have any questions just let me know! To those who have already asked I’ll be answering them tonight and tomorrow! There will be a roster for the Band of Bosses (Ganon’s men*) as well so be on the look out! Sorry also if its hard to read/typos! >A<

More of The Ocarina of Time: a 1920′s Zelda AU, Here

So I want to write a story

Chuck is fed up with Castiel getting the shaft. He feels bad that he didn’t give Cas the closure he needed (that even LUCIFER got, might I add) before he absconded to wherever the fuck with his cunt of a sister, so he gives Dean a new perspective on things by forcing Dean to rebuild Castiel from a molecular level, as once Cas did for him.

Dean gets no instructions as to how to rebuild his angel, but is given all the means with which to do so. He has to rely on his instincts to save people to keep Cas from disappearing from his life once and for all. 

The only part that has vividly played out scene by scene is the after. (I’m a happy person and I love these characters so you best believe it gets a happy ending). The actual rebuild is in my head, I have images that I have plotted out with singular pivotal points that stand out (read:angst), but it wouldn’t flow right unless I sat down and wrote it from the start. 

Featuring my headcannon for how Destiel becomes cannon, where no one actually talks about it after the fact, and it is not explicit, just hand holding when the camera is focused elsewhere. And one particular scene of Dean and Castiel being woken up by Sam barging into their room for a case/emergency while they’re in the same bed. (Cas being awake since he doesn’t sleep, sitting up quickly when he hears Sam coming down the hall and getting an arm in the face from the movement, off camera of course) When Sam opens the door all you see is Cas trying to gently pry Dean off of his bare upper half and Dean grumbling sleepily to quit squirming) and Dean coming to life instantly on high alert (hunter reflexes) when he finally recognizes the tone of Sam’s voice, grabbing clothes haphazardly and tossing them on as Cas does the same (in NORMAL clothing ya’ll) and following Sam down the hall (and Dean doing the hop thing that happens when you throw on pants while you walk) where he sets the laptop (that he had in his arms when he came into the room) on to the map table for Dean and Cas to look at while he gives the details of the case. 

I don’t want onscreen smut. I don’t want an explanation as to the how. That is what fan fiction is for, and why I love those who write it (even if we sail different ships, you best believe I read that shit because a good story is a good story, regardless if its my ship or not). 

All I want is for my boys to have a weird shaky truce with the world. For a Winchester that is as close to paradise as you can get outside of a dock perched over an unnamed lake, with the one being in the world that knows you, truly knows you inside and out, and loves you anyway.

I have the whole thing (its going to be LOOOOONG) plotted out in my head, but I don’t know if people would actually read it. The parenthesis are annoying to me, but I don’t know how else to convey the non-action portions to get across the whole picture as I see it in my head.

SO! If you actually read this far, either you want me to write it, or you’ll help me write it, both are needed greatly. 


I love the new episode so much I had to write a drabble for it! I might even write one more tonight? I was having a hard time picking what idea to write first but then @meldy-arts posted this adorable picture so I decided to write this drabble first. It’s not based on the pic, but there are some similarities, mainly Sabine working on her jetpack ^^

I hope y’all like it, it gave me fluffy feels while writing <33

Fic below the cut because of spoilers!

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A Short Scene In The Life Of John Watson And Sherlock Holmes

~Might delete if it’s terrible~

This is the first thing I've ever written, there may be some errors in it. I was just feeling like writing something,  hope you enjoy. 

John loudly stumbled into the living room and sat down in his chair; not even noticing Sherlock lying on the couch intensely staring up at the ceiling. The old chair creaked like it was awaken by the sudden weight falling down onto it. After all, it was two AM.

“How did the date go?” Sherlock asked, making John jump up as he noticed the company in the room. It didn’t actually surprise John that Sherlock wasn’t asleep. Sherlock asked but didn’t lose eye contact with the chipped white paint above him. 

“It was okay, just tired.” John sighed. Sherlock ended his staring contest with the old ceiling paint and looked John in the eye. John however, avoided eye contact with Sherlock. 

“No.” Sherlock’s voice wasn’t loud but very clear at this the quiet time of the night. John turned his head for them to make eye contact.

“No? what do you mean no,” His voice was almost shaking like he was getting emotional. It was late, he wasn’t in the mood for Sherlock’s out smarting comments. “Sherlock i swear it’s two in the morning can you jus-”

“No,” Sherlock cut him off. He quickly turned his body and sat up straight. His posture was stiff and his movements were energetic, like always. “you’re not just tired. You’re tired of getting rejected.” He almost whispered. John knew what was coming, this was it. The voice Sherlock used whenever he was going to show off his observing skills at high speed to impress everyone. Except for this time, it was only them.

“You are heartbroken of love that wasn’t even there yet. Quite stupid, really. Love is stupid. The weakness of the mind, betraying the body, oblivious of the real things that are happening around you.” He hissed. 

“Sherlock i am not heartbroken-” John tried, but again got cut off. He sighed at the idea of the string of possible insults that would come from his friend’s mouth. Sherlock never knew when he went too far.

“Yes you are,” Sherlock stood up, turned and looked out of the window, then continued. “You’ve put effort into your outfit, shirt tucked in, shoes you barely wear, nails clipped perfectly. The button on your right arm sleeve is almost ripped off by playing with it, maybe because you put a lot of pressure on yourself. Your hair is combed but it got blown away by the wind, you didn’t take a cab. You walked home so you weren’t physically tired. You are wearing an expensive scent but since you didn’t buy a fragrance in three months it must be a small bottle you got for free. You smell nice to impress but you’re still sweating. Are you nervous or stressed out? Your shoulders are tense and you have bags under your eyes so you’re stressed out, but by what are you stressed out?” He asked and paused for a second to tilt his head.

Before John could try to intervene Sherlock answered his own question, “Oh, that’s right! Maybe because you have dated seven women in two weeks. You are exhausting your own body.”

Both of them took the opportunity of the quiet pause after this tsunami of words to sigh quietly. John turned his head, opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyebrows moved up and down as he was trying to figure out what would be an appropriate response. He didn’t need to answer, Sherlock killed the silence by whispering to himself.

It appeared Holmes didn’t realize he was talking out loud. “oh such a lot of problems and drama why can’t a handsome man ever find someone to love and just continue his boring life with his boring little stupid brain filled with knowledge that he would never use. Why are ordinary people like this? Why must he always be so stupid?” He whispered so quietly, John could barely hear it.

John leaned forward in his chair. “Excuse me?” His eyes opened wider now. Sherlock mumbled something about forgetting the entire conversation and sighed. 

He didn’t like conflict. He didn’t even like talking to others, at least not ordinary ones.

“No what did you just say, about me?”John’s face was curious, yet also worried. “What did you just call me?” He tried again when he didn’t receive an answer.

After a short pause when you could feel the almost awkwardly long silence he finally answered. “Stupid” He said. Sherlock was still staring at a house on the other side of the street through the window, which he would always do. He never looked people in the eye, it would distract him from thinking. That was all he did, think.

“No the other one. Did you call me..” John hesitated. “handsome?” They both felt this was unusual for them. They didn’t express love or friendship in that obvious of a way.

“Yes,” Sherlock tried to brush it off, “I mean you’re not extraordinarily ugly.” He looked at John because he really didn’t quite know if he saved it or dug himself in even deeper of a hole.

John smiled. He laughed, even. They both laughed, this was such a weird situation. John mumbled a thank you and went to bed to leave Sherlock Holmes in the living room of 221B Baker Street where he sat down on the couch again, but this time with a slight smile on his face. 

Tips for Writing a Transgender Character

If you’re planning on writing a fanfic/story with a trans character, you might want to read this. If you’re cis and you’re planning on writing a fanfic/story with a trans character, I would quite recommend that you read this. Even if you’re not planning on writing a trans character anytime soon, you could want to read this. These are some things about trans people to keep in mind when you’re writing, brought to you by your local nonbinary emo who is very angry and very desperate for respectful trans representation.

(Okay, seriously, I really would appreciate it if you’d read this because I think it could possibly be very helpful.)

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