i might have forgotten to tag some of you for what i am sorry

anonymous asked:

hi viria i have a problem im dealing with right now ;; in my fandom genderswaps/bends are growing ever more popular and more and more big art/fic creators are accepting and supporting them. as someone trans i've been trying to educate people on how harmful it is, but as more & more 'big' or 'popular' accounts publicly enjoy them, its harder & harder to have an audience that will listen. i used to enjoy genderswaps myself but now ive come to see how truly harmful they are. i want to keep (1/6)

trying to educate ppl but soon it will be near impossible to convey my message as almost a whole of my fandom will just come to accept them and love them so much they wont listen ;; do you have any words to say from your perspective as an artist or from any other standpoint? even just a small word would mean so much, this trend is growing more and more rapidly and stronger every time a fic or piece of art supporting it is produced ;; (2/6) 

i come to you asking such a thing because there are fewer and fewer people that share the same belief as me that it is bad. the argument defending it seems very convincing to many. some trans/qenderqueer/nonbinary people find it enjoyable and comforting but those that are on the opposite spectrum - ppl like me who feel dysphoric and invalidated by it - are in the end told to deal with it and let ppl write/draw what they want and just avoid it since its a comfort to some. another argument (3/6)

is of artistic liscense: you should be able to make whatever you want and this is strengthened by the fact doing so comforts some trans/gq people. but i feel forgotten. do the people that are hurt by it not matter? i feel ashamed now when i try to put out my msg. but i just want to feel a little more normal within my fandomspace. i want to feel like i exist. yet hardly anyone will listen. it’s not longer something i and my friends can avoid and never really was, because it is harmful and (4/6) 

we have a right to speak out against harmful things, yes? i am finding it harder and harder to believe it. i really just yearn to feel normal as the people that are consoled by genderswapping feel normal. i feel i should mention i do remember when you made genderswap art and were educated and apologized, i have gone through the same process myself. i hope i am not bringing up bad memories and apologize if i happen to ;; please, if you could give just a few words yourself it (5/6)   


Hello! I’m sorry, I think my askbox managed to eat the last part of your message, so it’s not entirely full! But I feel like I get enough information from these parts nonetheless. 

First of all, please, please, try to not let any strangers on the internet make you feel abnormal. I feel like it must be very hard to be put in such a space, but as much as you can, please focus on the people who DO share your opinion on this. As much as it might not look like it, I am sure many people (even out of those who still do genderswaps) mean no harm, don’t yet know how hurtful it is for some other people and WILL listen to you!

I remember when people educated me over this, there were so many who thought that…how to put it. That I think very very bad of transgender people, while I, at that point, didn’t really know much about this issue. When it doesn’t happen to you, it’s not always the thing that crosses your mind. I feel like people who explain why and how this is wrong to artists, especially with their point of view, do help to fuel a thought in someone’s mind, offer them to think about it if they didn’t have the option before.

I try to be hopeful for people, I want to think that even if genderswaps are popular, there are still many empathic people who will listen to you, and who will understand how you feel.

For many it comes to a choice: whether they enjoy genderswaps enough to still draw it when they know how much it upsets some people. It was very fun to draw, but I don’t want to be the cause of someone’s distress by doing it. So… I want to think many people might share my choice. 

I’d say…if you choose to explain your point of view to people who still do genderswaps, try to not make bashing someone the first thing you write them. It might cause anger and defense, and it might not lead anywhere. Back then I was “educated” in a way that made me cry my eyes out, but it’s not something everyone will be willing to go through. For me, it wasn’t people who yelled at me what a piece of crap I was, but people who really explained what they felt that made me think on this topic more. Keep in mind that there still might be people who don’t yet know your point of view. What they see - is the pictures on the internet, people do them, so they assume it’s okay. You don’t usually think “Hm, what can possibly be wrong with this picture?” about drawings you see on the internet. 

As for your safe place, I think you have already done that, block all the genderswap tags to try to avoid on your dashboard. Even if there are people who stop doing them, there will most likely still be people who just started, simply because there are so so many. You don’t want to stress out because of something the stranger did from the other side of the globe.

I’m sorry if this is zero help, I know there is no way to change everyone’s opinion or to inform everyone, but please, don’t lose yourself with this. You are you and you are important, what you feel is absolutely legit and valid, remember it!

Originally posted by idolos-frases


Leonard McCoy x Reader

1,666 words

Beta: @trekken81

Triggers: None, but if you find something that should be tagged let me know

Soulmate AU: You thought you were one of the few people born without a soulmate until Jim’s meddling and the touch of a Doctor prove you wrong.

Originally posted by ensignspace

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she-is-made-of-outer-space  asked:

We live next door to each other and I can see you through the window while you’re dancing to your iPod in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and God you’re a dork” AU. Please! Your bellarke fics are positively wonderful!

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you like it! AO3

Living in college apartments is… not glamorous. Walls are thin, pipes are thinner, and working air conditioning is a luxury. But it’s not terrible, Clarke finds, as long as you have excellent roommates to share in how much it objectively sucks. Raven and Anya fit that bill, so she considers herself lucky.

Plus, their windows open into an alleyway between their apartment building and the next. Which might not sound like a plus, but when the alternative is street facing windows that do nothing to stop the sounds of drunk college students when you’re trying to sleep the night before a midterm—the difference is staggering.

So, suffice it to say, Clarke largely likes her apartment. It’s great, for what it is.

Until it betrays her.

The first thing Bellamy Blake says when he comes in for his shift at the bookstore—the Monday morning shift, that, unfortunately, she shares—is, “Nice moves last night, Princess.”

Most of the time, Bellamy is full of shit, but as he shucks off his jacket the smirk on his face says he’s getting away with something, so she quickly runs through the events of the previous night, searching for any instances of embarrassment he might have been privy to.

…and comes up with nothing. She didn’t go out after she’d come back from class, and she and Raven didn’t get drunk, precluding any chance that she’d sent out some drunken snapchats he might have seen. (She has him on snapchat for bookstore-related emergencies, alright?) In fact, she spent most of the night working on her chem lab assignment, finally finishing around midnight, so really, there’s nothing for him to have seen.

So she scoffs, dismissive, and keeps working, only mildly interested in what kind of scheme he’s running.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, clicking through their schedule to see if they have any deliveries scheduled today.

He grins at her, wide, just when she spares him a glance, and she has to physically force it to not affect her. Because Bellamy Blake might be a snarky asshole, but that doesn’t make him any less… well, hot. Which is a whole other level of unfair.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone needs to jam to Taylor Swift once in a while. It’s a good de-stressor. I’m not judging.”

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Warnings: I don’t think there is… I guess season 9 & 10 spoilers? (character deaths)
Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Sister Winchester Reader, Castiel
Summary: You’re tired of everyone and everything
Reader’s Age: High school
Word Count: 1553

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: This is kinda for a fren of mine who is/went through some of this so I mainly wrote it for her and based off her situation(s) so yeah. Enjoy!

These past few weeks have not been the easiest. You’ve been getting really tired of everyone and everything. It seems everyone ignores you or uses you for their own gain. It’s always Sam and Dean Winchester, never Sam, Dean, and Y/N Winchester. It’s always “The Brothers” it’s always about them. Everyone just seems to forget about you until you show up.

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Family VIII - Alfie Solomons

Family i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii - Alfie Solomons

Alfie was sitting at the kitchen table as if he was conducting some sort of business meeting when you finally got home from the doctor’s office. His son had volunteered to drive you, partially because it was a tedious walk and partially because of what happened to you last time you walked alone at night. You accepted because he had a car and you were still healing. But when you walked in the door you wished that he had done a couple laps around the block.  

“Oh, look who’s home.” Alfie commented. He was sitting with his elbows on the table.  

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anonymous asked:

Everyone's always making it that Earth time is faster than space time, and I understand that it like /is/, but what if it wasn't? They come back and its been like, 6 months tops, but to them it's been like, 6 years? They look older, act older, mix in them being so used to it just being them that they can't function properly without the others. While they're so happy to be back, all they wanna do is go away again, and escape the feeling of panic from being so far from the other Paladins 1/?

2/? and so they end up finding their way back to each other and trying to convince the others to leave again, but it hardly takes any convincing because they all want to. They know they should work through their problems, but honestly?? the entire time they were away from each other it felt like they were alone, or that the others were in some sort of danger. they’ve all become dependent on each other for comfort, for family, that back on earth they all just freak out and their families

are terrified because what happened to them? Idk where keith would go, but for some reason i imagine Lance bringing him to his family because he knows Keith never knew “family” and wants to share and Lance’s family is very accepting of their son’s friend. anyway, they all make it back to each other and just sit wherever they are hugging and crying because they’d been so worried, even though they knew they had nothing to worry about, Zarkon was dead, Galrans were but a memory 3/?

but it’s still so fresh and the families are confused and they dont understand, they try to, but they just dont get it you know? and so they contact Allura and Coran and request to return to space, and help more because even though they should stay and work it out with their families, it feels wrong to not help those still being affected by the Galras. theur families dont want them to go, but its easier knowing where they’re going and that they’re going than them just disappearing 4/?

and maybe its selfish but theyre all so relieved to be back together in space that its okay theyre all a little broken, and they always return to earth, this time not gone for 6 months, but about two weeks and it gets easier with time to understand and sometimes the families go with - but rarely, and slowly they become whole by being together, as one big family, their earth families now one with each other too. and maybe it doesnt make sense, but they’re happy. 5/5 sorry for rant but i need this

Okay, you have a slight misunderstanding of how time and space work, but you came to the right girl. First of all, I will explain how space and time work and we can go from there.

What is time?

That’s a great question! Physicists are still pondering it, actually, but in layman’s terms, time is the fourth dimension. At it’s most basic level, time is the rate of change in the universe, and it is constantly changing. Generally, time cannot exist without space (more on this later) and space cannot exist without time. This relationship is called the space-time continuum. Any event that occurs in the universe has to involve both space and time. 

The thing is: time works differently in space. This has to do with Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. He discovered the time is, in fact relative. What does this mean? Imagine time is like water travelling through a plastic tube that represents space. Let’s say the tube has bends in it and twists around. When the water flows through that tube it travels at different speeds. Although it should be noted that it only flows in one direction. 

The same thing happens with time in our universe. It flows faster in some places in others. In physics it is called gravitational time dilation. Gravity is a curve in space-time and astronomers regularly observe this phenomenon when they study light moving near a massive object (By massive we are talking large suns, black holes and similarly scaled celestial objects). If a star is large enough, it can even cause a beam of light to curve in what physicists call the gravitational lensing effect.

Cool Time Phenomena 

Okay, I recently read some awesome papers on photons. It has been recently confirmed that photons do not exist in time! This is amazing! They are the only known matter to have this exception. What does that even mean? Well, the instant photons are created, for them is also the instant they are destroyed. But those two events could be thousands, even billion years apart! I don’t know about any of you but this honestly blew my mind. I still can’t stop thinking about it. 

If you’ve ever seen the movie Interstellar you have an inkling about how time can affect a planet near a black hole. Despite a few minor inconsistencies, Interstellar is a fantastic movie, which my space nerd brain cannot recommend enough. But the theory is as follows: since gravity is so intense near a black hole, the closer one gets to the event horizon, the slower time travels. Time flows at a different rate. So while only 15 minutes had passed for the pilots on the planet, something like 8 years had passed for the rest of the universe.

How Does This Apply to Voltron?

Well, first of all in canon, time does not flow differently for alteans vs humans. The only difference is how they keep time, or measure it. So the thing that Allura always says about being asleep for 10,000 years is actually… pretty meaningless. Years depend on a planet’s rotation around their sun. We have no indication of how long that might take. An Altean year could be 2 months of earth time. What I mean is that the differences are not in the flow of time but how they are measured. 

Although it is currently not possible and their is no proof to support such an idea, but it could be interesting to explore a scenario or an alien race who does experience time differently. Or maybe Altean “magic” can alter it for them. Or even how an alien species perceives time, like maybe their neurons are faster so they register things differently so of course they would experience time differently even though it would affect them the same. But those are just ideas for you to explore!

 But with all the space travel the Voltron crew does, I would say it’s highly likely that the paladins have had their mishaps with time. I mean, time wouldn’t technically exist in a wormhole, either, or would be very very skewed (flow a lot slower inside the wormhole). So it would actually most likely be the other way around. A lot of time has passed on earth, more than what they experienced in space. For minimal angst, you could do something like their family members are 5 years older. Moving on up the angst scale, you have siblings 20 years older and their own children are now the paladin’s age. For huge angst, 100 years have passed on earth, their families never got any resolution, and now Lance’s great-great grandnephew is on a quest to discover what happened to him. For maximum angst, 150 years have passed, their families never got any resolution to what happened to them, the world has forgotten and no longer cares about the paladins, and the world also never knows that the paladins saved their planet so they live out their lives as traumatized unsung heroes who never get the recognition they deserve.


Thanks for this ask! You know I am an astrophysics nerd, and I love all things sci-fi! You are free to ask any physics related questions, and all my sci-fi writing tips and physics answers, and explanations on space are in my tag #blue answers, 

love, Blue

Most of Hinata Shouyou’s life is paved through forgetting. It’s not even as hard as he might have thought. GM-O394 is dead. Hinata Shouyou is alive. And it doesn’t matter what’s branded onto his thigh, or what scars he has as a reminder: Hinata Shouyou is alive, GM-O394 is not.


It’s easy, really, to forget. Because he’s not jumping, not flying, not doing anything GM-O394 once loved. So he forgets. (He trains himself to forget).

He forgets how to hold a gun.

He forgets how to break a neck.

He forgets how to kill a man.

And really, really, sometimes it’s all too easy to forget that these were all things he once needed to know how to do.


Tall people, tall, strong, volleyball players—they intimidate him, and rightly so, whenever he meets them in front of a bathroom. Not that he’d ever back down; but they make him nervous, because he’s not GM-O394 when he meets them, he’s Hinata.


Those times when he hit Kageyama—it was Hinata hitting Kageyama, just an ordinary human boy, hitting like an ordinary human boy would.

It’s amazing to think even when he’s angry, even when he’s attacking someone, he’s not attacking someone. He’s reacting just the way he should be: like someone who was never trained how to hurt people, and if that’s not a sign about who he really is, then he doesn’t know what would be.


It’s not 394 who defends Kiyoko from the Johzenji either, although it could have been. That had all been Hinata—getting in between them, being pushed aside, jumping in front of them—that was First Year Hinata Shouyou, trying to help out his beloved Third Year manager, all the while thinking that Tanaka or Nishinoya could have done a better job.

There’s a second, just the tiniest of moments, when Kiyoko looks a little scared by all these strange men crowding her and for the tiniest breath there’s that possibility of danger because the Karasuno students don’t know these guys are and maybe they’re the kind of people who might hurt a girl and in that small, very quick, can’t even really call it a second, 394 is lurking beneath the surface of Hinata’s skin. Blow to the chin, blow to the gut, knock to the ground, grab Kiyoko, fly.

But these students, they’re interested in Hinata Shouyou, the volleyball player. So it’s the volleyball player who talks back. And when Kiyoko thanks him later, it’s really easy to forget just how close he’d been to 394.


He almost always dreams about flying, but sometimes those dreams are memories and they’re more like nightmares.

Sometimes, he dreams about being on the alert—and he has to see everything, everything, because if he misses anything and doesn’t provide the right warning in time, his Generation could die. He has to be more aware than any of them, he has to be prepared for anything, he has to move quickly, he has to move before there’s ever any danger because if he doesn’t move fast it’ll be too late and it’s his job to catch things before it’s too late.

It’s his job to say, there he is, there’s the man who has to die.

It’s his job to say, leave now or we’ll all die.

And it’s his job to get rid of any unexpected threat because the others are too far away and no one ever remembers to look up so they don’t see him coming.

He’s not actually good at his job. He does it. But there’s a reason he was scrapped.

When he wakes up from those dreams it’s easy to treat them as dreams. Just dreams. Over when the morning comes. Not something he ever has to think about again.

Forget it ever happened.


And his classmates in Karasuno, and his teammates in the volleyball club, and his teachers and his parents and his boyfriend—they all forget too because it’s easy. Hinata Shouyou told the world he was genetically designed in a lab and then he went to school the next day like it never happened. People would tease him but they didn’t put it together, not really. They couldn’t add Miracle and Hinata Shouyou and make it equal threat and that’s fine. He’s not a threat. He’s not even a Miracle, not really.

(GM-O394 is dead. Hinata Shouyou is not).


The people who play against him remember, which is something Hinata finds out on accident.

It’s the bathroom again, of course it’s the bathroom, and he’s in a stall and he doesn’t expect to overhear the Aoba Josai players talking to one another after their practice game but he does.

“You know how sometimes that shrimp just moves when you don’t expect him to and he spikes the ball, and then he just kinda gets that aura like he might actually kill you?”


“It’s a lot more terrifying now that you know he could probably actually kill you, isn’t it?”


Hinata has to hide in the bathroom until they leave. It’s a weird sort of disconnect, because he didn’t know that’s how he comes across on a volleyball court, and also he’s pretty sure he was never so terrifying when he was an assassin.

(He was a very bad assassin).


At some point, when they’re kissing, Kageyama finds his scars. (They’re small and unobtrusive for the most part, it would be easy to think they’re the products of a normal, clumsy childhood, except by now Kageyama knows Hinata didn’t have a normal childhood).

The fascinating thing about Kageyama is that he doesn’t ask. From the get go, he knows who Hinata Shouyou is, and nothing else really matters.


But later, after Kageyama meets Kuroko Tetsuya a few times, he does ask, but it’s not the question Hinata is expecting.

“Do you ever think you’ll be him again?”

It pleases him, for some strange reason, that Kageyama recognizes Hinata isn’t that person anymore. He thinks about the question, remembers briefly what 394 feels like under his skin and says, “Might.” He shrugs. “If I had a reason.”

Kageyama accepts this, and then they don’t talk about it, and it’s like they’ve both forgotten, even if they haven’t.


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Drunk confessions

Summary: Bucky shows up at readers door drunk to apologise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.000

Warnings: idk one swear word and alkohol; angst

A/N: This is for @buckysmetallicstump‘s Disney Quote challenge. I had the quote: I was hiding under your porch because I love you.

Honestly this was supposed to be light and fun and then something happened and idk. It’s pretty angsty but it’s got a happy ending :) Hope you like it!

Originally posted by campercooperpugfi

“(Y/N), stop! Let me explain!” Bucky yelled, running after you. Furious, you stopped dead in your tracks and whirled around, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?” you hissed. “You push me around, play with me and now you expect me to listen to you? Who do you think I am?”

“If you would just listen to me-“he began to speak again, only for you to cut him off once more.

“I don’t care what you will explain and what not. I can’t live like this anymore. You have to choose. Do you want to be with me or not?” You hated to hold a gun to his head like this but it was time. All the past months you two had started to built something like a relationship.

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Business Partners- Part 3

Prompt/Summary: Your business partner invites himself to your sister’s wedding

Pairing/Characters: Tony Stark x Reader, Natasha, Clint, Coulson, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Scott.  Everybody

Warnings: cursing, drinking, reader is going to be a bit of an idiot later on.   You should work on your communication skills.  ;)

Word Count: 1924

Author’s Note:  I am cutting this down to the wire. But this is my submission for @bionic-buckyb 5000 follower celebration!!!!  I claimed the fake dating AU.  As of posting this, the end isn’t finished.  So I plan on eating pizza at home and try to get it done by the deadline.  (I’m going to come back and tag people)

Originally posted by iwantcupcakes

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My Mistake Chapter 2

Pairing: AJ Styles x OFC (Jessica), mention of AJ x Charlotte

Rating: General

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1,572

Summary: Jessica, a stylist for WWE, has a special friendship with AJ Styles, spending most of her time with him. But after the Superstar Shake-up and Charlotte coming to Smackdown, Jessica’s relationship with AJ changes drastically. And Jessica is not sure she can handle these changes.

Inspiration: “It’s my mistake for not making you love me more. It’s my mistake for loving you more than you love me. I did not make you love me more as much as I do. It’s my mistake” - SNSD “My Mistake”

Chapter 1

“Okay Jess, truth time.” Carmella says, bouncing onto the bed, finishing having showered and changed, curling up next to me.

I had bribed Tamina with the key to my hotel room, since I was rooming by myself, she jumped at the chance to not be forced to sit through our shitty picks of movies to watch tonight. Like they were the types of movies that are so bad they’re good, with the horrible animation and everything. But we did through in a few of my favorites to make me feel better, like “Robin Hood Men in Tights” I need a good laugh. Anyway, Carmella and I would have gone to my room, but my room, like always, is right next door to AJ’s and I just didn’t want to deal with him. Not tonight anyway.

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Simon wasn’t sure why the situation warranted getting flowers.

Sure, he knew that when people were in the hospital, you were supposed to bring flowers. But he thought that flower hospital visits should be reserved for people who were gravely ill or enduring an especially painful surgery.

Jace did not deserve lilies just because he was getting his tonsils removed. But Alec was covering food, Isabelle was covering movies and most other recovery entertainment, and Clary was covering general comfort with her healing presence. So Simon would feel a bit guilty if he didn’t arrive at the hospital with something for his ailing friend.

And what did you buy for sick people? He’d considered bagels, but that might be hard to swallow for someone who had just gotten their tonsils ripped out, literally. So he psyched himself up, felt a pang of regret for not taking Allegra, and entered Santiago’s Flowers with bravery.

It was a damn shame that Simon was allergic to flowers. They were beautiful, and he use to love going to the botanical garden when he was a kid and his reactions weren’t that horrible.

The small shop was literally overflowing with flora. Brightly painted pots held plump, bright plants that proudly bloomed in the sunlit space. Tangles of vines spilled from hanging pots, some leaves brushing against Simon’s hair as he navigated through.

He sneezed three times before he even got to the register. But hey, it was a pretty sight.

“Be with you in a second!” A voice called from a back room, where the sound of trickling water could be heard if Simon listened closely. There was a particular plant on the counter that had tiny white flowers blooming every few inches. Simon rubbed his finger carefully over a petal and was amazed that something so soft was so natural and real.

“It’s jasmine.” The voice said, closer this time. Simon looked up to see a man about his age, with tendrils of black hair that resembled the wild ivy above them. He had a light spattering of freckles over his nose and spilling onto his cheeks and a small smile on his face as he regarded the plant fondly, like it was an old friend. “It represents dulcis amore. Sweet love.”

His voice was like honey. The whole thing, with the flowers and the beautiful person and the bright colors was like a scene straight out of a movie. Simon could’ve used this opportunity to say something smooth in return, but instead he sneezed. Again.

“God bless you.” The man said, raising his eyebrows. He looked amused. “I’m so sorry.”

“Uh, about what?” Simon said, rifling through his bag to look for Kleenex.

“Allergies are the worst. I am blessed to not have them. I couldn’t imagine not being able to be around flowers.” The man said matter-of-factly. He looked genuinely sympathetic, which was endearing. His name, according to the teal tag that was attached to his apron, was Raphael.

“I can be around them, technically.” Simon said with a shrug. “It’s just a little, uh, inconvenient. It’s worth it, though.”

Raphael smiled, seemingly satisfied with this answer. “So what can I do for you?”

“I need flowers.” Simon blurted, and then laughed a little nervously. He wished he could blame acting like an idiot on the allergies, but that was all him. “I mean, obviously. Uh, I just need something pretty? Something that’s kinda calming to look at.”

“Color preference?” Raphael asked.

“Yellow.” Simon said firmly, knowing without a doubt that it was Jace’s favorite.

Without another word, Raphael walked away from the counter and entered the maze of the store. Simon waited, unsure if he was meant to follow or not. This guy was cute, honestly, and Simon knew that he probably looked a little gross right now, what with his running nose and red eyes. He didn’t want to worsen the situation.

The flower boy returned a few moments later, carrying a vase of bright yellow flowers that billowed from the glass and dangled elegantly from their stems, each one a little work of art.

“Yellow lilies.” Raphael told him. “Pretty and cheerful. Perfect for you.”

Simon didn’t know if he was going into anaphylactic shock, or if the cute guy was actually flirting with him.

“I’ll take them.” He managed to say. He was rung up quickly and he scrawled his signature on the receipt, which Raphael examined.

“Thank you for your business, Simon Lewis.” Raphael said with a calm smile. “Come back soon. Maybe with medication, if that helps?”

Simon replied with something completely unintelligible and stumbled out, clutching at the vase with an iron grip. He couldn’t get the image of freckles out of his head as he made his way to the hospital and up to Jace’s room, where his friends were all gathered around a sleepy and subdued Jace.

“Hey,” Simon greeted quietly, making sure not to jar his friend with too much volume. He set the flowers on the side table, adjusted so that Jace could see. “How’s he doing?”

The question was directed at the alert and conscious people in the room, but Jace answered it himself in his raspy, whining voice.

“He’s dying. He’s already dead, actually, he’s–are those flowers?” Jace’s unfocused eyes were fixated on the lilies and he reached out to touch them, his hand missing just slightly. Clary guided Jace’s hand upward so he could feel the petals and he looked back at Simon, tears welling in his eyes.

“You got me flowers.” Jace moaned, reaching forward to hug Simon weakly. “You’re so good.”

“Someone film this.” Simon instructed, and Alec responded by swiftly pulling out his phone.

“Already on it,” he said as he pointed the camera at his weepy, drugged brother who still had his arms loosely around Simon’s middle. “This is so much better than the video of Izzy after she got her wisdom teeth out.”

“They’re yellow lilies.” Simon told Jace as he worked to detangle his friend and set him back in bed. “The guy at the flower shop said they were good for cheering up. He also told me about jasmine, which represents love, but I passed on that because you haven’t taken me out to dinner in months.”

Jace didn’t seem to register the joke. In fact, he seemed almost asleep suddenly. Simon turned to his friends, who were all making faces at each other.

“What?” Simon demanded.

“When I go to buy flowers,” Isabelle said carefully, “the cashiers don’t usually explain to me which flowers represent love unless they give me their number afterwards.”

“Is he cute?” Alec asked, while Clary simultaneously demanded to know his name.

“Woah,” Simon put his hands up in defense. “I talked to him for what, five minutes? I feel like you guys are more desperate to hook me up than I am. Which, really guys, is sad.”

“You spent five whole minutes in a flower shop?” Clary said with an emphasized gasp. “You made me move my flowers to the balcony but you can stand around in a shop with some guy just because he’s cute? Wow, Simon.”

“That’s not at all the same!” Simon exclaimed, honestly lost. “Five minutes is how long it takes to buy the flowers. And I did it for our poor, tonsil-less friend. Not some guy.”

“Okay, okay.” Isabelle hushed Clary before she could retaliate. “Si, if you like him, you should go back.”

“I don’t even know him.” Simon insisted. “And besides, I’m terribly, horribly allergic unless you’ve forgotten. I’d rather not step back inside a pollen bomb just for some guy and his freckles.”

“Freckles.” Isabelle sighed dreamily. “I love freckles.”

Simon loved freckles too, actually, he always had. The image of them floated through Simon’s mind for days, accompanied by the sweet scent of flowers that he swore was following him like a ghost.

Three days later, he popped an Allegra and went back.

“You look better.” Raphael said in lieu of greeting when he saw Simon walk inside. He had been kneeling down to water a small potted succulent and he stood gracefully, his pink tin watering can bumping against his leg.

“I came prepared this time.” Simon said with a triumphant grin. “Because, uh, my friend really loved the flowers. So I figured, hey, might as well get some more.”

“But you’re allergic.” Raphael pointed out, his head tilted like a confused puppy.

“Yeah, um, they aren’t for me. It’s almost my friend’s birthday. So I thought I would stick with the same idea, because it worked really well on the last guy.” Which was a blatant lie, admittedly, because the next birthday coming up was his own and that was in over a month. But still. He couldn’t get the image of Raphael and his flowers out of his mind.

“Well,” Raphael looked thoughtful, “I’m assuming you want another recommendation?”

“Yeah! And he really liked when I told him what the flowers represented, so maybe you could just tell me about some of them?”

Raphael only cracked a tiny smile, but the sudden sparkle in his dark eyes meant that he was truly excited about this. His passion showed as he explained different Latin translations and growing habits of each species of plant. He gestured with his hands, which Simon couldn’t help but stare at as they glided through the sweet air between them, sometimes brushing against the obtrusive tangles of leaves and vines.

Simon spent nearly an hour there, listening and nodding along and staring until finally, unfortunately, he sneezed.

“Oh,” Raphael abruptly stopped his background on sage, “Bless you. Too much, huh?”

Feeling like Cinderella at the ball, Simon begrudgingly realized that his time was up. He followed Raphael to the register and paid for his violets, which were so beautiful that Simon felt the urge to take pictures.

“I apologize if I rambled a bit.” Raphael said, looking up at Simon with a sheepish grin. “Not many people ask for anything besides the price. It’s–nice to have someone who’s interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested!” Simon said eagerly. “Really. And you explain it so well! I mean, it’s really cool that you’re into something so unique and cool, because the only thing I could talk about with detail is like, Star Wars–”

Raphael laughed, which was almost overwhelmingly beautiful. Simon’s eyes were watery, and it was either from the pollen or the sheer beauty of the human in front of him. Probably both.

“Well I appreciate having someone who’ll listen. You should stick around here. I’ll stock up on tissues, maybe.”

Simon did just that. He came in almost every day, listening to Raphael talk about the flowers. He also met Magnus Bane, who worked part-time and fondly rolled his eyes when Raphael started off on tangents. He referred to Simon as their “unofficial temp” and taught him how to handle the plants, how much water to give to each, and occasionally he whispered Raphael’s favorites in Simon’s ear and gave him little pats on the shoulder.

He had nowhere to put his growing collection of flowers. He made sure to hide them in his room, knowing that Clary would mercilessly tease him if she knew what he’d been up to. His room was tiny and the amount of pollen made it almost impossible to breathe, but the sight of the flowers made him think of Raphael and his eyes and his freckles, so Simon kept them.

He was getting away with it, too, until Jace arrived, unannounced, at the apartment in the early morning. This was when Simon was usually alone, Clary having already gone to her early classes, and he used this time to take his medication and stick his head out the window to breathe fresh air.

Not today.

“Lewis?” Jace called, unlocking the door on his own with his back-up key which Simon regretted allowing him to have. “Hey, I’m just dropping off the–”

He stopped when he saw Simon, who probably looked like an absolute wreck. Simon attempted to hide his face behind his mug of morning coffee, but Jace was already approaching quickly.

“You look like hell.” Jace noted, eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “Are you sick?”

“No.” Simon said with his congested voice that rounded out his words. “It’s just, uh, allergies.”

“Are there flowers in here?” Jace inquired, turning around. He searched the empty living room, then moved on to Simon’s bedroom. Simon was considering tackling Jace before he could reach the door, but he was already too late. Jace stood in his doorway, eyes wide, taking in the sight of dozens of flower pots. “What the hell?”

And then Simon remembered that Jace had been barely conscious when the entire conversation about the flower shop had taken place. Simon made a mental note to thank the heavens at Temple the next time he attended and quickly formulated a response.

“They’re uh, they’re for Clary. They’re a surprise for Clary.”

Jace looked incredulous. “What’s the occasion exactly? I know I haven’t forgotten anything, Lewis, it’s all in the database.”

“Don’t call your brain the database.” Simon muttered. “It’s not really for an occasion, exactly. See, I figured since spring is her favorite season we could do like, a surprise party for her. With flowers. Just because.”

Jace’s golden eyes lit up with unharnessed excitement and he bounced on his heels. “That’s a good idea! She would love it!”

Relief washed through Simon as he nodded, absentmindedly swiping at his nose with his sleeve. He wanted to take his medicine and not have to worry about now planning an unnecessary party, which would only happen when Jace left.

He pushed him out, promising to update him with any new developing plans for the party that Jace was predictably eager about. He loved parties and he loved Clary, so it was a great match.

The entire ordeal had left him drained enough that he resolved to take a quick nap on the couch. The nap leaked into an actual three hours of sleeping and by the time he woke, Simon had to frantically get ready for work.

The day passed with no time to visit Raphael, which Simon couldn’t help but feel disappointed about. He embarked early the next day, determined to have enough time to let Raphael finish his explanation on succulents.

“I had a customer mention you yesterday.” Raphael said when Simon entered. “He came in and bought out a bunch of yellow lilies. He said you were having a, um, spring party? And that’s why you bought all of your flowers?”

Simon flushed a bright red and cursed Jace’s relentlessly moving lips. Raphael was looking at him with confused eyes and arched brows, so he was going to have to explain the truth. However dumb the truth may be.

“So, I made up all these occasions as to why I needed flowers.” Simon admitted softly. “Because I wanted to see you? It’s not that I don’t like the flowers–I do! But I’m like, super allergic, but that didn’t matter because I really, really like seeing you. Anyways, I lied to my friends about it because I knew they’d tease me if they knew what I was doing for a cute guy–”

“I’m cute?” Raphael asked, and Simon looked up to a smug smirk on the florist’s face. Simon couldn’t help but laugh at himself and the whole situation, because honestly it was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

“I’m sorry for making it up.” Simon breathed. “But you looked really happy whenever you were talking about them. And I know how much it sucks to not have anyone willing to listen about your passions.”

“Well I can still tell you about the flowers without you having to be nearly killed by them, idiota.” Raphael chuckled. “We’ll grab some dinner later tonight, yeah? And I’ll get to see what you look like without your nose all red.”

“I’m cuter when I look normal, I promise.” Simon insisted, which made Raphael laugh again. He plucked a lily from the plant beside him and gently tucked it behind Simon’s ear so it rested amidst his brown curls. Simon sneezed.

“Bless you,” Raphael laughed, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Simon insisted. “It’s worth it.”

Part 12

Summary:  Two weeks after waking up with no recollection of the people and ship around you, you take your future in your hands and try to piece together your past and the events that lead up to you losing your memory of the last five years. This means finally meeting Scotty, the man you just learned is your husband.

Word Count:  973

Author’s Note:  I’m so excited about this chapter, we’re getting into the good stuff! As always, let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!

Table of Contents Here

“Jim, please, I’m beggin’ ye-”

“Scotty, Bones said you can’t be in there right now, I’m sorry,” Jim planted both hands on his friend’s chest, pushing the smaller man back down into his chair. “He’ll be out in a minute, and you’ll be able to see her soon, alright?”

“I need ta know…” Scotty tried to push Jim back. Jim stood firm, pressing on Scotty’s shoulders to keep the Scot seated.

“I know, Scotty, I know,” Jim said. “Soon, Scotty, soon.”

The door to the private room opened across the hall and the two men stopped pushing against each other. The door slid closed again and McCoy stepped toward them. Scotty brushed Jim’s hands from his shoulders and stood.

“How is she? Is she a’righ’? Can I see her?” Scotty spouted, breathing heavily in the silence. “What’s happening? Say somethin’!”

“Scotty, I’ve got a question for you,” McCoy said, sucking his teeth.

“What?” Scotty asked, his heart sinking. “Is she okay?”

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Words: 900 (including lyrics)

Summary: Castiel is finally done with angel duties and able to reunite with the girl he loved and lost. Inspired by the song “Pieces” by Red. Lyrics in italics. https://youtu.be/e7jA0r8hulo

Warnings: Extremely cheesy fluff; you’ve been warned.

A/N: Unofficial sequel to “Only You,” but can be read on its own. Constructive feedback is always appreciated. If you’d like to be added to me master tag list send me an ask or DM.


Castiel paced up and down the bright white hallway; pausing briefly to look at the door labeled with your name and the years you were alive.

How could he face you after all this time? What if you were still hurt and angry? What if you hated him? He couldn’t bear the thought that you might still harbor all those negative feelings toward him.

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Music Series: Fix You by Coldplay (trequel)

As promised, I said I would write a trequel to the two Little Mix songs, which are basically a part one and part two of the same story. Both of those were requests sent in by you lovely followers and readers. My initial thought was to try to find another LM song to use to finish out the story, but I’m not very familiar with a lot of their music. So before beginning another request, I thought I would do this one so I don’t forget. Requests are open!

Since I wrote those two stories over the past day or two, and written several since then, I wanted to refresh my thoughts on the story so I knew how to find my direction for the final chapter. As I was re-reading, this song instantly popped into my head, and after finishing reading both parts, I knew this was the right song for this story.

Coldplay’s song, “Fix You” is so incredibly versatile lyrically, it could easily be interpreted in a number of ways. I can think of a few different stories for this song, but I’m choosing to use it to finish up this saga.

Part One link: Here

Part Two link: Here

If you have been living in a cave for the past 12 years and haven’t heard this song, here is the link on my Spotify playlist called Timeless, HERE




When you try your best but you don’t succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep

Stuck in reverse

You had to admit that the comfort of Harry sitting next to you with his arm around you felt good. You still had bitterness about the entire situation, but not feeling great from your accident, you welcomed and needed the extra love. Your other friends had left at Harry’s insistence, and they were only too happy to give him opportunity to try and mend things with you.

You swear Harry didn’t take his eyes off of you that entire first day he was there. You could see he was worried about you, the stitches in your hairline evidence of the relevancy.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” you say to him, a bit harshly.

“Goin’ to,” he said firmly, bringing in a bowl of soup he had made and handing it to you. You start to speak again, but he interrupts. “No arguing.”

You always loved Forceful Harry, and you loved anytime he took care of you when you were sick. But you couldn’t overlook the fact that the recent history between you kept you more distant from him than before.

“Don’t you have a tour to tend to or something?” you ask snidely.

“I do,” he says. “Doesn’t matter right now. I’ve rescheduled a few things for a while.”

“Why?” you ask half-wittedly.

“I’d rather be here with you,” he answers honestly, looking directly at you. You look at him, then back at your soup.

When the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can’t replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

You arouse on the sofa, not realizing you had even fallen asleep. Harry sits up from the other end to see that you’re okay. You feel your stiff neck and shoulders, quickly throwing your hand to them and rubbing, then feel the achiness your whole body exudes, from the force of the accident, you assumed.

“You alright?” he asks attentively.

“I’m fine,” you say evenly.

“Been moanin’ in your sleep. Are you in pain?” he asks. “Got out the pain medicine just in case.”

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

You try to stand slowly and Harry quickly grabs onto you, helping you upright and to your feet. He hears you sigh, and chuckles.

“You might as well just face it that I’m going to help you, babe,” Harry says with a grin. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here and I’m not leaving!”

You accept his help reluctantly, but only because the pain of moving is horrible and you don’t want to fall down the stairs, making it worse. Harry helps you up the steps and helps you get ready for bed. He pulls back the covers and eases you down onto the mattress to find a comfortable position for sleeping. Harry looks at the bedside table where he had set the pill bottle of pain reliever, shakes two pills out, and holds them out to you with your bottle of water. You look at him, wanting to tell him no, but you know you need it. You take the pills and a drink, and try to close your eyes.

Even though bitter, you look at him gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say simply.

“Anything for you, love,” Harry says, kissing your cheek before you can protest.

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

You wake after a few hours, blurry-minded and in pain. You make out the figure of someone quickly moving from across the room to your side and caressing your head with one hand, as their other hand moves up and down your side. You moan, closing your eyes, then feel a hand behind your head, lifting it slightly.

“Open, love. More pain meds,” Harry says quietly.

He places the medicine in your opened mouth, then holds the water so you can wash them down, setting the bottle on the dresser when you finish. You think you’re dreaming as you feel your head lower back onto the pillow, and a shower of gentle kisses cover your face, as you enter back into your sleep.

As you drift off, you think you hear a whisper of, “I love you, baby” against your ear.

High up above or down below

When you’re too in love to let it go

If you never try you’ll never know

Just what you’re worth

The next time you wake, there is a dull light cast across the room from the sun outside the shaded window of the bedroom.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Harry says softly, sitting down on the mattress beside you. “How are you feeling today?”

You look at Harry, having forgotten for a moment that he was there, or that you were injured. It all quickly came rushing back as you felt the pain rushing through you.

“Sore,” you croaked, trying to clear your morning voice. “You’re still here?” you ask, not rudely, just surprised, thinking he would have gone home for the night at least.

“Course I am, love,” Harry grinned at you. “Told you I’m not goin’ anywhere, didn’t I?”

You look at him, still a bit confused, but not remembering a lot of the past 24 hours or so.

“You slept here?” you asked as he nodded. “Wh…where did you sleep?”

“In the chair,” Harry said, pointing at it against the wall. “Wouldn’t say I slept, but I was there.”

You look at him compassionately, moved by what you were learning.

“You stayed awake all night?” you asked him.

“Had to make sure you were alright,” he said, rubbing his thumb against your arm. He was pleased you weren’t pulling away from him. “Think you can eat some breakfast?”

Tears stream down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face

And I

As the two of you sit at the kitchen table eating breakfast, it is silent. Not really awkward, just silent. You both glance at each other off and on as you eat, looking away as the other sees.

“It’s good,” you say of the food. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, pleased that you were not only eating, but that the tension seemed to be easing a bit between you. “Are you feeling any better today, babe?”

You nod and grin slightly. “Yeah, I think so. Still sore, but maybe not so much today.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he says as he finishes and drinks the end of his juice.

You both hear a car horn in front of the house and Harry walks to the front window and smiles, turning to you and pulling out your chair.

“Have a little surprise for you, love,” Harry says excitedly.

“What is it?” you ask, confused but grinning at how excited he seems. Sometimes he was like a little kid, and you found that endearing.

“You’ll have to come see, now, won’t you?” he chuckles.

You walk with him to the front door, as he opens the door and walks out beside you with his arm around your shoulder. As you walk to the edge of the porch, you look to where Harry is looking and smiling and see a new car. You’re confused and look at Harry.

“What is it?” you ask, knowing you sound sillier than you intended.

“That is what many of us call a car, love,” Harry says, teasing you and laughing. He takes your hand and helps you down the front steps, walking you to where the car is parked. The man standing next to the car hands a key to you.

“I…don’t understand,” you say to him, then looking at Harry.

The man smiles, shaking Harry’s hand, then walking to the end of the drive where another car is waiting for him.

“Your car was totaled, sweetheart,” Harry said. “I want you to have this one.”

You look at him in disbelief, then shake your head.

“Harry…no…I can’t,” you start.

“It’s already done, love,” he says. “It’s in your name, insurance and tags all taken care of, and…anti-skid brakes,” he says as he laughs and you shoot him a look. “I tease, I’m sorry.”

“Harry, this is too much,” you insist.

“Don’t you like it?” he asks. “If you don’t, we’ll take it and find a different one when you’re feeling up to it.”

“It’s not that,” you insist. “It’s…it’s a new car, Harry…and a really nice one. Far more expensive than I could ever afford.”

“No worrying on that,” Harry says. “I want you to have it, and my feelings will be hurt if you don’t accept it.” You look at him with teary eyes, appreciating his generosity, especially after the way you had treated him when he arrived.

“Thank you,” you say, hugging him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“No need to say anything, babe,” he says, kissing your head and happily accepting your hug.

Tears stream down your face

I promise you I will learn from all my mistakes

Tears stream down your face

And I

As Harry returns from a quick trip to the market, he sees you quickly wiping tears from your face. He sets the food on the kitchen table and walks to you, sitting next to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, worried that you are in pain. “Do you need more pain meds?” He begins to stand to retrieve them when he feels your hand pull him back down.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I took some while you were gone. I’m okay.”

“Tell me why you’re crying then, sweetheart,” Harry says, holding your hand, and brushing a couple of stray hairs away from your face.

“You’re being so good to me,” you say, crying again. “I don’t deserve it.”

“What?” he asks astonished. “Of course you do, baby. Why would you think you don’t?”

“I’ve been horrible to you!” you say, catching your breath. “Ever since you…you left me.” Harry dropped his head slightly, then kissed your hand in his. “I deserve for you to be terrible to me, just like I’ve been to you.”

“No, love,” Harry says. “Don’t do that. I was terrible first, thinking we shouldn’t be together anymore, when I knew damn well I was so in love with you that I couldn’t see straight. And you were right. I didn’t give you a choice in it. I just left and expected you to just accept it. I broke your heart. It was all my fuckin’ fault, and I hated myself for hurting you. Thought the damage was already done and you were never going to want to talk to me again, much less be with me again. For a while I think I gave up. I was a mess, love. You’d told me it was my responsibility to…fix us. And I needed to figure it out, and I didn’t have a fuckin’ idea how to do that. Until your accident. The second I found out, I panicked and flew straight here. I didn’t care if you were so pissed at me you were going to spit in my face. I was going to be here, because I knew I needed you, and I think you needed me, too.”

You nod and cry, placing a hand over your face.

“I love you, baby,” Harry says, as a tear leaves his eye. “And if I have to fight my way back to you, and take a little lip from you when you’re angry at me, it will always be worth it. Everything will be worth it. As long as I have you. Nobody else for me but you.”

You sob slightly as you lean to him, pressing your lips against his and feeling his hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, afraid of you pulling away. Harry fought for you. He was willing to do whatever it would take for him to be with you…and so were you.

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

fic: small things

pairing: bill potts / rose tyler
words: 500-ish
summary: bill serves chips. rose likes to eat them.
read on ao3

“I’ll get some chips and a soda,” Rose says, checking her wallet for change. There isn’t very much of it: two pounds, and fare for the bus home from work. She frowns. “Just the soda, actually.”

“Are you sure?” asks the girl at the counter, finger hovering over a button on the till.

“Just the soda,” Rose confirms.

The girl looks like she’s gonna say something, but bites her lip and turns to get a large cup from the counter behind her.

“What?” Rose asks.

“What what?”

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Arranged Love Pt.10 | Jungkook

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 14.5 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

Summary: Whatever happened to true love? To fairytale romance? Where was that magical spark, those lingering kisses, the butterflies in your stomach, the fireworks in your heart? Where was the romance and the honesty in a forced love? And, above all else, how did you and Jungkook even find yourself being forced into an arranged marriage simply for publicity?

Word Count: 5,759

Genre: Fluff/angst

A/N: This is kinda long but, I mean, it kinda makes up for me not updating for a while (lol probably not i’m sorry (but i might be working on a new jungkook gang au so there’s that)

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Originally posted by jeffreydeanmorgantrash

Pairing: Negan x wife!Reader, Gabby (OC)
Word count: 733
Warnings: Swearing

Part 3 of Happily Ever After

You had no idea how long you’d stared at the test, not surprised, but still hoping you were seeing things. Your hand went to your stomach and you teared up. Not thinking, you threw the test. You walked out, the other tests forgotten in the bathroom. You wiped your cheeks, having to put on a brave front, and decide when, and how, to tell your husband and daughter.

Negan had Gabby outside like he always did after runs, enjoying the fresh air. It was their ‘thing’, a way to bond, and something for Gabby to look forward to when she missed him. Moving quickly, you went right to your room and sat on the side of the bed.

When Negan came in a little while later, he saw you sleeping on your side, and he could tell that you’d been crying. Picking up Gabby, he walked back out. “How’s about we see if Uncle Jack wants to help you with your full name?” He suggested, smiling at her. Negan wanted to know what was wrong, as you’d been acting off.

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“Filthy Halls” deleted scene

Youji shows up at Masaomi’s house in Kyoto unannounced. “I was in the area,” he had said as an explanation, and they both knew how exceedingly unlikely that was without Masaomi pointing it out, so Masaomi didn’t say anything at all.

“My brother is dead,” Youji said finally, after dinner and then watching TV for a couple hours on Masaomi’s couch while Masaomi worked on his laptop.

“Congratulations,” Masaomi said mildly, knowing how Youji felt about his brothers. “The evil one or the dick?”

“The dick,” Youji said, “Although, I feel the need to point out that they were both evil.”

“I have very fancy champagne,” he offered, “Seijuurou is home though, so we’d probably have to wait until he goes to sleep if we want to get really drunk.”

“Ah, I see you’ve already mastered the finer nuances of good parenting,” Youji said fondly. Masaomi decided he would let Youji continue to think he didn’t want Seijuurou to see them drunk out of delicacy for role model purposes, and not at all because he was sure Seijuurou would find a way to exploit that weakness to his advantage. Youji leaned back on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. “I do want to get drunk, which probably means that I shouldn’t.”

“Fair enough,” Masaomi said. “I also have very fancy cake.”

“I could eat some cake,” Youji acknowledges.


It was on the third slice of cake that Youji’s phone rings. “It’s Ryouta,” he says, as an explanation for why he gets up to take the call. Masaomi tunes out at that point, because he doesn’t feel the need to listen in on Youji’s conversations with his son.

It’s not until he hears Youji cry out, “Ryouta, stop. I can help you, just tell me where you are. We’ll figure this out together. Ryouta!” sounding like a wounded animal, that Masaomi whips his head up.

Youji is looking at his phone and Masaomi’s heart stops for just a second—he has seen that expression on Youji’s face before, and it’s not good.

“What happened?” he demands, already getting up. He’s not sure what he’s going to do, but he thinks desperately that he has to stop Youji somehow (he’s not sure what he’s stopping Youji from doing, but he’s ready to intervene, to do anything, to make it all go away).

“Yukio,” Youji says, his voice a strangled whisper. “Something—something must have happened to Yukio. I have to—I have to go them.” He’s packing up his stuff and looking wretched and lost.

“OK, we’ll go them,” Masaomi says calmly. “Where are they?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.” Youji stops and swallows and looks at him helplessly, “Masaomi, I don’t know where my sons are.”

He sounds close to breaking so Masaomi pulls at him, steering him towards the laptop. “It’s OK, I can find them. Give me their cell phone numbers and tell me everything.”

“You can—you can track their numbers?”

I can,” Masaomi says, allowing that this isn’t something just anyone can do.

Youji paces, agitated, as Masaomi starts working at his computer. He’s only ever heard Youji sound so helpless once before, and he hates it. His own heart beats fast with the sense of urgency that he knows Youji must be feeling.

“Ryouta said—he said something bad might have happened. He meant Yukio.”

“Did he say that?”

“No, but—that’s the only thing it could have been, to make him sound like that. Something must have happened to Yukio, and I don’t—Ryouta sounded like he was going to do something dangerous and what if—”

“It will be fine,” Masaomi says, with firm conviction, like he can will it to be true. “Everything is going to be fine.”

They both knew that sometimes things weren’t fine. Youji almost died after he lost Hinami; Masaomi is positive he won’t make it if he loses those two kids. Masaomi works faster and then curses when the results settle in a location.

“What? Where are they?!”

“Iwatobi,” Masaomi says, knowing what that means to Youji.

“Oh, God, he must have—Seiji.

Masaomi swallows, knowing that Youji had good reasons to hate his brothers, and he’s feeling in the blanks about why his kids might have gone to Iwatobi. “You never told your gay son about your homophobic sadistic brothers?” Masaomi asks even as they’re already packing up and heading out the door.

“I didn’t think I had to!” Youji says, “I told Yukio not to go, he’s never disobeyed before—Jesus Christ, if he’s done anything to hurt my kids I’m going to kill him.”

The eldest brother, Masaomi thinks. The one Masaomi really should have done something about, years ago. Except Youji hadn’t wanted that, not really. And now they’re both regretting that inaction.

“How long does it take to get to Iwatobi?” Youji asks. “Do you have a jet?”

“Yes, of course, but it’ll be faster to take a helicopter, we won’t have to worry as much about landing—”

“Will a helicopter be fast enough?”

“One of mine will, I designed them myself,” Masaomi says.

“OK, OK,” Youji says, mostly to himself, as if trying to calm down.

The round the corner, and Seijuurou is standing there. Masaomi blinks, having momentarily forgotten he was around.

“Is Ryouta in trouble?” Seijuurou asks.

“He might be, and we’re kind of in a hurry—”

“I will go with you,” Seijuurou says.

Masaomi would protest this but they don’t have time. And Seijuurou might come in handy anyway. At any rate, his presence would keep Youji from losing himself entirely, so Masaomi just nods and they head out the door.

There’s too much at stake at the moment—Youji is already too close to losing his mind with worry, so there’s no point in adding to that. But a deeply unsettled feeling spreads throughout Masaomi as he thinks about Iwatobi and how he knows there’s other things in that small town that the Miracles might have to worry about.

And for the first time, he starts to think maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence that the secrets in Iwatobi happened to be in the same place as Youji’s home town.



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“Hikari no Jukyo” (The Dwelling place of Light Pt1)

A/N: SO this is a part of my post for ideas/requests from last time. Though this will be a two-shot. I overdid it, my bad. Now, there’s a part that is supposed to be “quintet” instead of “quartet” because I miscounted the girls… Sorry! I can’t find it. But anyway, different from A Warm Diana story setting, and you’ll know why later.

Kill me for the slight (?) OCness… I am way too sleepy.

If you wanna jump to romance, jump to the end, but feel the build guys… since I’m bad at this. XD


“maybe Diana pays Akko a visit in Japan and Akko is in a kimono or something?? Idk it seems like it’d be pretty gay :3”

Got it ;)

~Shintori Khazumi



It was quiet.

That alone was normal, especially if you consider the fact that Diana Cavendish was sat alone in the library, at her favorite table, indulging herself in a sweet, historical and educationally beneficial novel at just around sunset.

It was quiet.

As it usually was in this time and place, as it should be.

However, the heiress felt it to be… too quiet.

A sigh escaped her lips as she shut the book with a clap. Looking around, it was rather lonely compared to how it usually was during school days-

Ah yes, the reason why she felt as if the whole place was deserted, was probably because it really was, because, as it was announced in the earlier closing ceremony, it was time for vacation period to begin.

Needless to say, there was quite the bustle from all the students, from fussing about how they needed to clean up and pack again, deciding what gifts to bring home, to squealing and/or jumping for joy at the knowledge that they’d finally get more than a weekend of rest from all the training and studying received for a full semester. And that, even for the prodigious student, was honestly an overloading amount of information that most people would forget come professionalism.

As she returned the book to its proper spot on one of the many shelves lining the old room, she remembered that she too had to pack up, though she wouldn’t be going home any time soon.

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Somehow, 600 of you lovely people are following me now!

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

So to celebrate, I’m going to do something a little different! At least, I haven’t seen this yet, but it could be out there already, who knows. ANYWAY, here we go!

Originally posted by stayclassysupernatural

For my last challenge, I gave you the songs and you provided me with absolutely wonderful and beautiful fics. This time around, I am going to let YOU send the songs in to ME!

That’s right! I’m going to write for you this time around! My life has finally settled down a bit and I love writing for you all! So why not continue that. Here’s how it’s going to work:

1. You don’t have to be following me, but it would be lovely!
2. Send in an ASK (anon or not, but just know that I can’t tag you anons and it may take me a bit to get the fic out) with any song you would like me to write a fic based off of. It can be your favorite song, a song you think I would like, a song you hate, it can be from any band, musical, movie, cartoon, ANYTHING your heart desires!
3. Please specify if you would like Dean or Jensen, (I have not ventured out to other people yet…that may come at some point.)
4. Also let me know what genre you would like this fic to be. (Just a warning, I can go from fluffy to angsty in 0.5 seconds…sorry)
5. And finally, this is not required, but if you see this post, it would be awesome if you could signal boost this! I know that feeling you get when you hear a song and you think it would be awesome for a fic, and if someone somewhere has that feeling I can help them with that!

I really hope I get some requests with this, because I can’t wait to see what songs you all send in to me! I’m so excited for this! I’m going to tag my forever peeps below the cut and a few others I think might want to participate! Again, you all are amazing and I don’t know what I would do without you! Now let’s have some fun!

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