i thought i had it somewhere


The time has come for Marshal to leave my town. I’ve had him for like two years now, so this has been a very painful decision. I thought it wasn’t important to me about how well my villagers and their houses suited my town theme, but I guess that’s changed :-( 

So I really need someone to adopt him. It is vital that I know he’s moved to somewhere he will live happily, with a mayor that will love him as much as I do and take very VERY good care of him. I’d say he’s free but he isn’t, the price is giving him as much love and attention as he deserves and if there ever comes a time where you can’t have him anymore I need you to make sure he goes to another good home too. That’s a mayor’s oath you will be breaking if you don’t!!

As you can see from the pictures he is an amazing friend with a pure heart and soul ;-;

So if you want him let me know! You will also receive his picture with him if you want! Please do not ask for him if you’re only interested in trading him and not having him long term. I know this post isn’t very aesthetically pleasing but reblogs are appreciated :-)

Cas vs Cass

@writer-picks-the-music posed the Cas vs Cass question, so I’m here to give my two cents.

It has been revealed that Cas is the canon spelling of the shortened form of Castiel’s name. To those who watch the show with captions for the hearing impaired, this is not a surprise. 

Personally, I’m okay with both. When I watched, I saw Cass in my captions and thought nothing of it. When I read my first fan fiction, I saw Cas and had to take a moment to consider it. Castiel being shortened to Cas made a kind of sense, so I got used to it. When I started writing, I told Word that Cas was a thing and to stop telling me it wasn’t spelled correctly.

And then Misha’s Cass tweet caused an uproar.

Before then, I had seen a post somewhere that argued the Cas point perfectly. “His name is Castiel, not Casstiel. Where’d you get the second S, huh? Your ASS?” This made me giggle and cemented my love for Cas over Cass.

Since then, it has been revealed that Kripke uses Cass (he said he liked how it looked on the page) and that this spelling is undeniably canon. Those who have read my stuff know that I really do try to stick to canon whenever possible (to the point where I have written entire fics with multiple tabs open to SuperWiki to ensure I stay within canon’s parameters - Third Wheel was the worst), so in that spirit, I can see using Cass. Also, Castiel is said to be a variant of Cassiel, hence where the second “s” came from.

But changing a habit is hard and I’ve been typing Cas for two years, now. Personally, I will probably continue using Cas out of habit. If I read someone else’s writing, though, and they use Cass, it won’t bug me.

It’s really up to each writer individually. Do you want to stick close to canon? Then use Cass. Do you want to fly willy-nilly in the face of canon (which we’re kind of doing quite a bit by writing fan fiction in the first place)? Then use Cas. Don’t care either way? Just please pick one per fic. I think if I read a fic where someone switched back and forth, I’d probably have an aneurysm. 

anonymous asked:


Once I found a rose in the garden, but it was like the only rose that was there, I don’t remember if it was before or after the season for roses, but it really stood out. I ended up cutting it and preserving it, so it’s somewhere in the house gathering dust. I thought it had some meaning back then, but now it’s just a dead flower to me.

wait a second.....

Based off what we saw in episode 12, I believed that Victor had only just started thinking of returning to the ice as an actual option after Yuuri had mentioned it at the hotel. 

I thought that Yuuri had put the idea in his head, and he had been sitting on it those past few days. But based off the timeline of the figure skating season, I think he’s been thinking about this for quite a while. 

The GPF happens around December 9-12 and the Russian Nationals are somewhere between December 20-26 (if I’m not mistaken). With this timeline, Victor would have about a week to somehow prepare and perfect 2–not only presentable, but comeback-worthy–programs. Given that this is actually impossible, I feel like Victor had been considering this for months at that point, creating his programs whenever he had time when not coaching. (Don’t forget that he has music composed specifically for his programs that fit perfectly to the skating, which would take quite a while to get done and so would designing his extremely well thought out and extravagant costumes). Returning to the ice was no spur of the moment decision, but something Victor has wanted for a long ass time, but he didn’t do it because of Yuuri. 

He didn’t want to leave Yuuri’s side and Victor hadn’t considered doing BOTH at once until after Yuuri had asked him to stay on as his coach for the following season (probably because it’s as absolutely insane as it sounds)

So he gave himself an ultimatum and when given the choice he picked Yuuri over skating. He gave up the only constant reassurace he had in his life for the man he loves with his entire heart. Not only until Yuuri said he actually wanted Victor to return did he actually plan on following through. Now if THAT. AINT. LOVE. then I don’t know what the fuck is

I bet Victor goes back to Russia a few weeks before Yuuri is going to move there and he walks into his old apartment with Makkachin at his heels and immediately realizes it’s totally unlivable, like he doesn’t even have PLATES, he has only one couch and a double bed, this is not at ALL acceptable for his dear Yuuri to live in, he needs him to be comfortable living somewhere new so he basically goes on a crazed redecorating spree, fueled by his stress over how much he misses Yuuri in the first place, and drags the entire Russian skating team to Ikea on six different occasions, buys thousands of dollars worth of furniture, forces Mila, Georgi, and Yurio to rearrange the entire apartment four times ‘why did you buy two more couches if you ALREADY HAD ONE THEY DON’T EVEN FIT?!!’ ‘plz yurio this one is more comfortable in case we fight and I have to sleep on the coach and I just thought this one looked cool, it’s totally necessary’ ‘ARGHHH!!’ 

So basically when Yuuri finally does arrive in St. Petersburg the entire Russian skating team is overjoyed to see him


mistrel-fox created an awesome crossover with gf and fma, also did these amazing drawings. Oh man the ideas are so great.

With the twins losing both of their limbs, I imagined GrunkleStan being the suit of armor and well….. I got waaay too deep into this.


and it’s all your fault MISTREL



D: …are you wooing me, Potter?

H: is it working?

well Sirius’ bike had to end up somewhere and I think Harry would gladly take that burden, especially if he can pick up his boyfriend from work or sth so they can be 100 % ostentatious 

besides, Harry still hates flooing imo.

the leather jacket was somehow a success so I thought why not go all the way but I was so wrong omgggg sorry for the extremely oversimplified bike but I had no patience with it. also, I figured it would have to be a bit bigger if Hagrid could comfortably ride it? idk

I’m never doing this again I’m not even joking lmao 

Somewhere in New York State is a boy with sunflowers for hands. Or there isn’t, but I thought there might be. There are at least twelve ways to make a myth out of a man but there’s only one good way to tend to something after you plant it. I expected you to know this. You had such a knack for making things grow in me. Somewhere in New York State is a girl drowning in a metaphor or thinking about a crosswalk or trying to figure out the difference between a partner and a muse; and she’s coming up empty-handed because you can’t look her in the face anymore. Aren’t you supposed to be able to wave before you cross the street to avoid me? What is every poem about if not this? You needed to love something other than yourself to feel alive and it wasn’t me. So you’re human. So you’re more boy than myth and all the flowers are left wilting. I named something in my garden after you and it died. I put your name in this poem and it ended.
Season 4, the case of the missing Watson, and why BBC John doesn’t love Sherlock

So yesterday I was reading @silentauroriamthereal‘s Best of Three, again (it’s a really good story!). And I realised that the John in that story is pretty much a total dick. He’s incredibly patronising and self-congratulatory about being such a wonderful friend to Sherlock etc etc etc, all the while being actually unimaginably cruel to Sherlock.

And I left a comment to the effect that I loved the story but hated John, and she very kindly replied that she thought it was pretty in character and I had this absolute oh my god moment because she’s bloody right, isn’t she?

And somewhere between Season 4 and Best of Three and SilentAuror’s comment, I think the scales sort of fell from my eyes with regards to John and the show. It’s not that Season 4 ruined John. Season 4 was the logical continuation of where they had taken the character, arguably from the second episode. Go back and look at the way John talks about and treats Sherlock, all the way back to TBB. Try to reconcile the way John talks to and about Sherlock with the way Watson talks to and about Holmes.

Season 4 John is not out of character. Not for BBC John. It’s extreme, but it’s not actually out of character. We think it is, but I think that we have good reason for that. In my specific case, I knew and loved the canon long before BBC Sherlock came on the scene. I know Watson, and I know how he feels about Holmes. So when John acted the way he did in Season 4, I thought it was awful, and terrible, and it came as a shock to me. Before Season 4, when John acted in ways that Watson would not have, I was like “well, maybe he’s just having a bad day’, but Season 4 made me realise that Watson hasn’t been having bad days, Watson has never been here at all.

We think that John is better and wiser and kinder than he is because we spend more time with the wiser, kinder versions of John Watson that we see in the canon and in fanfiction. We’ve been blinded by those Watsons to the truth of John’s character in the show.

And that leads me to another conclusion. BBC’s John doesn’t love Sherlock. We think he does, because Watson loves Holmes, and whether you think that it’s platonic or romantic or sexual or whatever, you can’t deny that there is love there, but John? He doesn’t love Sherlock.

I think he wants Sherlock. I think he’s addicted to Sherlock. To the cases and the life they lead and the danger and all of it. And I think that, like any addict, he hates Sherlock and everything that comes with him, and hates that he needs him. And that’s why the morgue scene happens. Because John, unlike practically every other Watson in history, does not love Sherlock Holmes. Because John wishes that he had never met him and wishes that he could live without him, and knows that as long as Sherlock is alive, he will never, ever be able to leave him for good.

Which means that yes, they really did do TPLoSH all over again, with a gay Holmes desperately in love with Watson, who doesn’t love him back. Except they dialled it up to 11, because everything has to be bigger and louder and hurt more, and instead of a straight Watson who still loves his Holmes, they have given us a John Watson of ambiguous sexuality who not only does not love Sherlock, but actively despises him.

(I also have some thoughts about how Sherlock has been moving toward becoming Holmes over the course of the series, while John moves further and further away from being Watson, but I’ll save that for another time.)


A few years later, Nyx receives a sacrifice.

It’s a large piece of tri-folded paper with the words onto boldly stated “Percy and Annabeth’s Official Guide to the perfect Tartarus Vacation!” In a silver-green duochrome.

On the cover, under the title, was a beautiful portrait of a Woman with deep black skin with white dots sprinkling her limbs, wearing a Terani 1712E3648 that sparkled with nebula colours. The woman was standing on the edge of a deep dark abyss.

Written in silver calligraphy below the painting were the words “Nyx, Primordial of Night, ‘Star’ Attraction.”

I wonder if you remember, deep down, somewhere in that cold and bitter heart, how it felt when I hugged you.
I think you remember the rush that we got from being alone even as others surrounded us, in our own little world even as familiar voices chimed around us.
I’m sure you remember how it felt when we stayed up for hours and talked and laughed and understood each other better than either of us had ever been before.
I know that you remember how it hurt both of us when you seemed to move on so quickly, so suddenly- because I know shattering me didn’t mean nothing to you. You knew, and you ached because of it. But it didn’t stop you from doing it.
You’re just pretending not to remember. You wish you could put it entirely behind you, tuck it away, out of sight, unnoticed.
Darling, I’m never going to forget. And I know you won’t either.
—  semisomniac

Dean first saw him because of a wasps nest. His favourite coffee shop had been closed for a week while they tried to get rid of the infestation. He walked in that first morning in a daze, mainly due to a lack of sleep the night before and a serious lack of caffeine. He hadn’t even realised the guy in front of him had been talking until he coughed loudly.

“Sorry, what?” Dean asked finally looking at the guy. Dean thought he recognised him from somewhere.

“I asked you what drink you wanted.” The guy said. “Long night?”

“Oh yeah, I got an English paper due this morning.” Dean said. “Can I get a large coffee, extra shot?”

“Sure, name?”

“Oh…Dean.” He said only just noticing that the guy in front of him was incredibly attractive. Dean had always been a sucker for dark hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t until he was walking out that he saw the note written on his cup.

‘Dean. Good luck with the paper.’

It went on like that for several weeks. Dean’s old favourite coffee place was swiftly replaced. Every morning Dean would walk into the place in a daze until the blue eyed barista gave him a smile. He would always write little notes on the cups. He had figured out who the barista was after describing him to Jo. Turned out the guy was in her history class. Soon Dean only went for those notes on the cups and the small conversations he had with Cas.

‘Dean, congratulations on the A’

‘Dean, no that shirt doesn’t make you look fat.’

'Dean, stop complaining about the music.’

'No Dean. I can’t give you free coffee because you’re cute.’

'If I do give you free coffee it does mean I find you cute.’

'We need bigger cups. These notes are getting longer.’

'Stop winking at me to get a free muffin. It won’t work.’

'That free muffin was not because of the wink yesterday.’

This went on for several weeks until finally one note said:

'Dean, are you planning on asking me for a drink soon?’

Dean stopped, stared at the cup and swiftly turned back round. Once through the door he held the cup up at Cas. Cas rolled his eyes.

“You seemed so affronted yesterday when I said that I hadn’t seen Star Wars. I figured you could explain it me over drinks.” Cas called over with a shrug.

“Pick you up at seven tonight?” Dean asked.

“Turn the cup around.” Cas said, a smirk spreading across his face. Dean turned the paper cup around and grinned at the message.

'Yes. It’s a date.’


Newt Scamander x female reader
Warnings: grudges, an asshole ex boyfriend
Specific Prompt: I was wondering if I could request a fluffy one shot involving taking Newt somewhere as a date (like a wedding or something) with a lot of dancing, kissing, fluffy things etc! thank you!
Requested by anonymous

When the invitation arrived, you knew there was no way you could possibly go.

Without a date, that is.

Your ex-boyfriend, Abraxas Malfoy, had the sheer gall to invite you to his wedding, and without a second thought you grabbed the invitation, scribbled down that you were bringing a plus one, and sent the owl off. It was then you realized that you didn’t have a plus one. You put it in the back of your mind,  figuring that you’d figure it out eventually. No big deal.


It was the day before the wedding and you still hadn’t acquired a plus one. It wasn’t that you had been turned down, it was more from lack of trying. On top of the debacle with Newt and his beasts, as well as your regular life, you hadn’t really been able to make the time to find a date.

Needless to say, you were stressed.

“Queenie, the wedding is tomorrow! How am I supposed to find a date by then? I obviously have to bring a man, and a friend. Someone that I can play couple with, yeah? I can’t take Jacob, for obvious reasons and Newt- well. We both know why I can’t ask him,” you rambled, flopping into an armchair. Your feelings for the magizoologist had been unrequited for as long as you felt them for him, as far as you knew, and you valued your friendship too much that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

Queenie paused in her cooking, “Well why not?”

“Queenie, you know what I mean-” you started.

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean! But what I’m saying is that this is a perfect opportunity to see if the two of you would work! Ask him for the reasons that you’re going, and if it goes well, marry him!” Queenie exclaimed, her wand shooting out pink and silver sparks.

“Oh, definitely! There’s no way that could possibly go wrong!” you said sarcastically, then sighed, “Honestly, Queenie, he’s given no sign of being interested in me.”

“Which is why this is perfect! Come on, Y/N, don’t be such a downer. Give it a shot,” Queenie urged you gently.

“You won’t let up, will you?” you were resigned to her persistent nature. Still, you couldn’t ignore the little spark of hope that flared in your chest.

“Nope! Now, go ask him!” she smiled, shooing you towards his room. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself and knocked, hoping that he would be in his suitcase and you could put it off until later.

“Yes?” Newt’s voice dashed your hopes and made your stomach flutter simultaneously.

“It’s Y/N. May I come in?” you asked tentatively, formulating a plan all the while. The door creaked open and there stood Newt, hair tousled and making your heart stutter.

“Can I help you, Y/N?” he asked, his beautiful smile dawning on his face.

“That depends. May I ask a favour?” you edged your way into his room.

“Of course! What is it?” he took your hand in his, looking down at you earnestly, almost making you blush. Putting your feelings out of mind for a moment, you got down to business.

“You remember when I dated Abraxas Malfoy?” You took his silent nod as a sign to continue. “Well, tomorrow is his wedding, and I said I would bring someone along with me. He broke up with me because I’m a half-blood, remember? I just feel obligated to go, and I would really like it if you could accompany me.” You spewed the words out in one breath, anxious for him to agree.

“If you need a friend, I’d be glad too, for you. That is, to say, with you,” he stammered. “I think I have something that would be suitable to wear.”

You were soaring, “Newt, thank you so much! I promise I’ll pay you back for this! You’re an absolute angel.” Your poor instincts and adrenaline made you kiss him on the cheek before you spun on your heel and marched out of the room. “See you at dinner!”

“See you at dinner,” Newt echoed quietly, his fingers caressing where you had kissed him.



There was crisp, dry snow under his feet and more snow lying on the branches of the trees. Overhead there was pale blue sky, the sort of sky one sees on a fine winter day in the morning. Straight ahead of him he saw between the tree-trunks the sun, just rising, very red and clear. Everything was perfectly still, as if he were the only living creature in that country. There was not even a robin or a squirrel among the trees, and the wood stretched as far as he could see in every direction. He shivered. 

He now remembered that he had been looking for Lucy; and also how unpleasant he had been to her about her “imaginary country” which now turned out not to have been imaginary at all. He thought that she must be somewhere quite close and so he shouted, “Lucy! Lucy! I’m here too-Edmund.”

There was no answer.

“She’s angry about all the things I’ve been saying lately,” thought Edmund. And though he did not like to admit that he had been wrong, he also did not much like being alone in this strange, cold, quiet place; so he shouted again…

drabble: public thrills

so i was going over some stuff in my head last night and this idea just sort of came up so i figured i’d type up a kinda longer drabble/shorter story for you guys. maybe like a precursor to something more with this one. even though this is josh/reader/tyler it’s not part of hourglass. i just thought i’d give yall something fun.

Originally posted by raindun

You stand looking at the whips and handcuffs that lined the wall of the oversized sex shop, not impressed by anything you saw. You had lost Tyler and Josh somewhere by the vibrators, as they mentioned they were looking for something to get you for your birthday; you laughed it off, assuming they were just being their normal, teasing selves. But as you examine a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, you feel an arm snake around your waist, pulling you flush against a body with a very apparent erection.

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