i would tag the others but i feel like that would be weird for some reason

2

Compilation doodles + Name explanations for the OC kids in the YOI Future!verse ABO AU

^ Literally the above, because I thought WAY too hard about these for legit months (the twins were conceived in my mind back in DECEMBER and Arisa in January >.>;;) and I want to rant about my reasoning for all of them. :P

~~

IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and the above are their kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

~~

DISCLAIMER: I don’t know any Russian or Thai and my info comes from not-so-trustworthy Google-sensei though I did my best to triple check from multiple sources including non-English ^ ^; I am however native and fluent in both Japanese and English and also consulted a Japanese linguist regarding my kanji choices ^ ^; If I made any mistakes please be gentle, and also understanding that this is a low-stress self-indulgent near-crack AU >.>;;;

Onwards! vvv

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Jonerys in 7.07 and Beyond :)

Okay so I have gotten a steady flow of asks both positive and worried after the finale so I thought I would just post one, big analysis of Jonerys in the finale for anyone interested in my take on things!

First of all I just want to establish that I loved this episode and it is my favorite of the season. There was much more to love than Jonerys here, but they are what I will focus on for this particular post, and I think this episode solidified their love in a major and lasting way. This is giant so I used a cut. 

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In Regards to Hate: On Victuuri

I don’t know what suddenly happened again but there’s a shitton of hate for Victuuri/Viktuuri(/etc) in the tags lately. People are welcome to feel however they want for a particular ship, but I just wanted to give my two cents by tackling the common complaints I’ve seen. I’ll start from the beginning so I’ll be addressing basically all the arguments against this ship I’ve seen so far. I’ve tried to maintain some sort of order for these, but honestly I just winged it at some point.  A lot of these arguments are also heavily character-based, so keep in mind that I’ll be deconstructing several scenes as well as character motivations as I go.  (As a note, this assumes you’ve seen the whole show. Also, I’m only using canon evidence from the show itself.)

This is like an informal follow-up to my super old post but also not really.

No I’m not avoiding work why would you say that.

WARNING: This is a massive post/wall of text. Grab popcorn.

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Love Inversion Theory

A Peter Parker/Tom Holland Fic

Next!

A/n: I came up with the idea while eating dinner last night and I seemed super original and awesome for some reason. I tried to make it not confusing soooo hopefully we’re good! Maybe a part two if people want it? I’ll probably do another anyways, though. 

Originally posted by koenigreus

Tags

@loeigh@calumbeans@sailorchibimoonunicorn@marvel-fanfiction@sammnipple 


“Inversion can be defined as the reversal of something or as an inverted state of an object.”

Peter watched while you sat with a young boy surrounded by text books and papers. The date you had been on abruptly took halt when you suddenly remembered that you had a tutoring session with your friend Betty Brandt’s little brother.

It was a rare moment for Peter; for once the date had to be paused because of something normal. Something not Spider-Man related. Admittedly, that was better than him exclaiming “Jump into this alley!” for purposes that were not for making out and more for super changes. Those super changes somehow managed to worm their way into the regular routine of a date. Before, when being Spider-Man and being a boyfriend was too hard to balance, you and Peter talked about breaking up. “We both love one another,” you said solemnly, “but we never have time to be together.”

The both of you tried it out; not actually breaking up, but doing a “break up trial.”

You spent a day not talking to each other-no texting or snapchats either-and no hugs between class. Nothing.

And both of you cried by the end of the day.

So that was totally out of the question.

Eventually you guys got the hang of it. Assigning roof tops to meet on during Spider-Man breaks, Skype calls during “Stark Interning” hours courtesy of the teched-up suit, whom Peter for some reason called Karen. You thought that was kind of weird but you rolled with it, choosing to not ask questions you didn’t really want the answers too.

So seriously, neither of you could survive a break up. Hell, you didn’t even like when Peter went to the Academic Decathlon last year, leaving you in New York. “I’m just,” you had said between kisses, “too in love-with you- to break up.”

“I know-” he agreed between kisses, “I feel-the same-way.”

From awkwardly asking you to the homecoming dance freshmen year, to finding out his secret, the connection between you two just grew stronger every day.

“So,” he heard you wrapping up, “does that make more sense?”

The fourth grader nodded his head. Together, you and Peter both walked the boy out where his sister, Betty, was waiting with a car to drive him home. “Still can’t believe she chopped all her hair off,” you said through your teeth while smiling and waving at the pair drive off, hoping she couldn’t tell you were talking about her. “She looked so much better with it long.” You massaged your mouth when the Brandt siblings were out of sight.

“I’m really sorry, Tiger Lily. I can’t believe I forgot about him!” you suddenly exclaimed. Peter held your hands. “Don’t worry about it,” he said assuringly, “it’s not like the day is over. We spent about thirty minutes with tutoring, that’s hardly anything compared to ‘us.’“

You laughed. “‘Us’? How long is ‘us’?” you asked, using light air quotes for emphasis.

“Forever,” Peter smiled. You blushed. “Parker…you have me wrapped around your finger,” you grinned before pulling him in for a chaste kiss.

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SO LETS TALK “WHOS THE TRAITOR”

I’ll just start this off by axing off a HUGE group of characters right off the bat: the traitor is not a teacher, has to be from class A and cannot be from any other class, and is not a “minor” member of class A, such as Mineta or Sero. I am assuming that those characters who have been somewhat involved in the main plotline of the story are those that have the potential to be the traitor. After cutting it down from that, I’ll just run through specific instances.

Of course it’s not Midoriya, or the story would make no sense; same with Bakugou due to having been kidnapped. I’m cutting out Iida, Todoroki, and Momo for their involvement in helping to rescue Bakugou in the AfO arc, and also because they all have a family history in heroics.  Froppy I’m cutting out more because of the way the story is written makes her a really awkward fit as traitor. Denki is one of the theories I’ve seen floating around, but I think that from the most recent arc, there’s a little too much leaning away from Denki having the capacity for being a traitor.

Kirishima, although I definitely wouldn’t be too surprised if it did turn out to be him, still doesn’t fit the bill for me. My initial reason was that Kirishima obviously wants to save Bakugou from the villains during that particular arc - he initiates the entire thing. While even despite on that, I was open to the idea of Kirishima being the traitor, but thinking on it there are two other reasons I can’t sink my teeth in. The first is that Kirishima is just… so honest?? and also Bakugou’s kinda-probably best friend? If the villains really wanted Bakugou to join the villain side, Kirishima probably would have known, and also he could have easily spoken to Bakugou about STUFF and weeded out whether or not Bakugou was really villain material. He also strikes me as honest enough to bide his time with Bakugou and then when the time came, literally just saying ‘hey, Bakugou join me on the villains’ side.’

My second reason is crucial: Kirishima is just not AS close to Midoriya as pretty much every other main character. While I’m sure Midoriya would be upset if Kirishima was the traitor, it wouldn’t have the same effect as a lot of the other main characters in the series. The shock factor for Midoriya, appropriately, would be more like “oh no, how could you?”  and I don’t think that’s what Horikoshi wants. Good traitor reveals are big, painful, and close to the heart. They’re someone who the main character trusts, and a lot of the time, a character who’s been there from the start.

So who is left?

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The Same Costume

Request:  Hello! I was wondering if you could make a drabble for peter parker x reader where its halloween and reader and her friends dress up as “sexy” avengers and she’s dressed up as spiderman? You can do whatever relationship status with pete, whether it be crushes or girlfriend, etc…. thank you so much!

Warnings: None!!

Pairing: Female Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: THIS IS SO BAD PLS DONT FIGHT ME I’ve been so busy and nothing was coming to me so I tried my best :’)

This is just kinda something to break up my mini hiatus so I’m not going to add the tags to this one !! (p.s 70 days until Halloween)

“Peter, would you stop spacing out and pay attention to me for a second?” Ned’s voice snapped Peter out of his daydream and he quickly looked up to see he best friend waving at him. Ned had been going on and on about his project for Robotics Lab so eventually Peter had just tuned him out.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I am paying attention. What’s up?” Ned let out a long sigh and pointed over to the group of girls standing in the lunch line. Peter noticed almost immediately that you were one of the members of the group and averted his eyes. You looked really nice today with your hair pulled back and he felt his face begin to heat up.

“I heard that there’s going to be an awesome Halloween party at Bethany’s house tonight. Y/N is friends with her so I was thinking we could ask her to score us some invites?” Ned explained. You, Ned, and Peter had American Literature together and all got along really well. You had your other friends, of course, but you also liked to hang out with the two of them whenever you could. You had a lot of things in common with them surprisingly, and Peter felt a connection with you right away. He had developed quite the crush on you, although you were oblivious to it.

“I don’t know, Ned,” he said, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Parties aren’t really our thing.”

“But Y/N will be there!” he exclaimed. “We haven’t seen her outside of school in so long. Besides, it’s a costume party. You know how much I love those!”

“Fine,” Peter finally gave in, “but you have to be the one to ask her.” Ned beamed and waited until you looked in their direction before flailing his arms around to get your attention. You laughed, quickly excusing yourself to go and talk to him.

“Hey guys,” you said with a grin. “What’s going on? If you’re gonna ask to copy my English homework you’re out of luck because I didn’t do it either.” Peter’s heart rate was doubling as each moment passed, and he tried his best not to stare.

“Actually, it’s about Bethany’s party!” Ned piped up. “Are you going to be there?”

“I sure am!” you replied. “My friends and I are all coordinating our costumes, it’s gonna be fun. Are you two going? It would be so great to see you there.”

“W-we don’t have an official invite,” Peter stammered. Your smile grew even wider, making his stomach flip.

“Well then, consider this it,” you laughed. “You have to go in costume though. It’s a tradition and, as weird as it seems, you’d stick out more if you weren’t wearing something dumb.” The bell rang as you finished, cutting your conversation short. You waved goodbye to them, leaving Peter staring after you in awe. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going through with this. He could vaguely hear Ned babbling endlessly about last minute costume ideas, but he was only half listening since you were occupying all of his thoughts.


Peter had no idea how he found himself standing at the front door of some random girl’s house wearing a Luke Skywalker costume later that night, but for some reason he did. He turned to Ned, who was dressed as a very unconvincing Yoda. He was a jumble of nerves, feeling extremely self conscious, meanwhile Ned was having the time of his life. It was finally an excuse for him to whip out his Star Wars merchandise and he couldn’t have been more excited. Peter reached out and hesitantly rang the doorbell, already regretting every decision he had made thus far. His breath caught in his throat when you were the one to answer the door.

“Peter! Ned! I’m so glad you guys made it!” you exclaimed happily. Peter couldn’t help but stare, his jaw dropping. You were wearing a skin tight Spider-Man body suit with thigh-high boots, showing off every single one of your assets. Your eyes gleamed from behind your small mask and Peter noticed the slight tinge of pink on your cheeks. He suddenly realized that he had been staring shamelessly and tore his eyes away, embarrassed.

“H-hi Y/N,” he said, trying to keep things casual. “Nice costume. I uh… I didn’t know you liked Spider-Man. That’s cool, he seems like a good guy.” Ned nudged him a little, and Peter quickly stopped talking.

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed. “My idea was that my friends and I should go as the Avengers, but as you can see they took it a little differently. Technically I don’t think Spider-Man counts, but I really like him so that’s who I picked. I think it turned out pretty cute, you like it?”

“Y-yeah I think it’s… nice,” Peter squeaked. He cleared his throat, cringing at his own awkwardness. You giggled and let them inside, leading them into the kitchen. You were talking with Ned about something relating to The Force Awakens, but Peter couldn’t focus. He was totally distracted by the way you walked, the way your outfit accentuated your curves, and just generally how fantastic you looked in the Spider-Man suit. His suit. Well, something similar to it at least.

“What do you think Peter?” you asked, looking at him expectantly. He froze, not having any idea what you had been talking about. His mind went blank and he started to panic a little.

“Sorry, could you excuse me for a second?” he said breathlessly, turning and rushing past you.

“I should probably go after him,” Ned said to you as you watched him leave. “Parties aren’t really his thing. We’ll be back in a little bit.” He went off in pursuit of his friend, already knowing exactly what was going on. Peter found an unoccupied room and ducked inside, running his hands through his hair. He jumped when the door opened, but relaxed when he saw it was Ned. They stood in silence for a moment, just sort of letting him cool down.

“Peter, you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man!” Ned blurted out.

“Shh!” Peter gave him a severe look and looked around nervously. “What if somebody hears you?”

“But this is the perfect time!” he whined. “You heard her, she really likes you! Besides, you haven’t taken your eyes off of her ass since we got here. You have to make a move.”

“You’re crazy,” Peter said, although he had to admit he was considering it. Ned noticed this and his face lit up.

“I’ll tell her to meet you outside down the road in 5 minutes. Now’s your chance, Parker! Don’t blow it.” He ran out of the room, leaving Peter there with really no other options. He fumbled with his costume, pulling the suit out from his backpack that he never left home without. With the suit on he felt a lot more sure of himself and carefully climbed out the window quietly. From up on the roof he could see you walking outside, shivering a little in the cold October air. You stumbled a bit, still not used to walking in your heels. Peter smiled as he watched you go. He slowly followed, careful not to make his presence known.

“Hello?” you called, a little on edge since it had already gotten pretty dark. You tugged nervously on your costume, the tight fabric starting to chafe a little. Peter took a deep breath and built up the confidence to say something.

“Uh… hi,” he said, trying to pose in a non-creepy way as if he hadn’t been following her.

“Oh, you’re here!” you exclaimed as you whirled around but stopped dead when you saw it was Spider-Man. It wasn’t even one of those cheap costumes, it was the actual Spider-Man. You recognized all of the details of the suit, details that couldn’t be replicated. Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled the mask that you wore off.

“I-I think that’s one hell of a costume,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’d wear it, but the effort was there.”

“Sorry, is this weird for you? I mean, I bet it is. I didn’t mean for it to be offensive but I also wasn’t really expecting to see Spider-Man out here, you know? I can take it off. No, actually I can’t that would make it so much worse.” you rambled nervously. Behind his mask Peter couldn’t have been smiling any wider. Seeing you so flustered and shocked was really cute and he was loving it.

“I’m not offended at all, it’s the opposite really,” he laughed. “Why are you out here all by yourself without a jacket?”

“I’m actually waiting for someone,” you told him. “He’s great. He’s in my class and we’re friends but I want to ask him if he wants to go out- Oh wait, sorry you probably don’t care about that part. Forget I said that.” Now it was Peter’s turn to be flustered. 

“No, no it’s fine! Do you… Do you like him?”

“I mean, a little,” you admitted. “Don’t tell him, okay? Not that you would, you’re Spider-Man, but still.” Peter nodded slowly, taking a step back.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said. “I have to go, I think I hear someone calling for help…” He looked behind his shoulder, pretending to pick up on something.

“I don’t hear anything,” you said curiously.

“No, trust me. Someone’s having a bad night, I should go help. Good luck with that Peter guy, I’m sure he’s nice. Hope things work out.” With that, he shot off into the trees leaving you there alone. You flipped your mask over in your hands, trying to ignore the fact that you had never mentioned Peter’s name to him and that Spider-Man had a very similar voice.

Friends Part 3

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1790

Warnings: Fluffy so much fluffy


Thank you @amrita31199 you are amazing. 

credits to the gif owner

Part 1 Part 2

You have been waiting in the parking lot in the car for the past 15 minutes, in 5 minutes Dan will arrive for your date and you don’t know if you’re ready for it. Sure, Dan was a great guy, he was nice and funny and polite. But there is a part of you that is hearing Bucky’s words in your brain over and over again and as much as you try you can’t silence it.

You hate how insecure you feel right now, what if Bucky was right and Dan was using you for some ulterior motive? Or if Dan was drunk and regretted asking  you for this date? You try to calm yourself down, thinking about all the possibilities in the worst case scenario “You went to another failed date and you had an overpriced cup of coffee” you think.

You get out of the car when you see Daniel coming down the street “You look beautiful.” He says you can’t help but blush, you are wearing some jeans, with a white shirt and flats. Nothing that deserves such a compliment “You look nice too, black really make your eyes pop.”  He smiles shyly at you, having almost the same reaction as you with the complement.

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I have a cellphone for one reason only

So… okay. Just because you all need to see it, I’ll leave you here this fanart because it caused me to start shipping this and so far I’m liking it.

Thank you @burythekidd for giving me this beautiful ship, I love it, I don’t care about anything else.

As a reference, this is set on a day-to-day AU. Akande is a martial artist, so he needs to train everyday as a job. I want to apologize if it’s not the best, it’s 1:40 in the morning and I just googled the info I needed.

Title: I have a cellphone for one reason only
Fandom: Overwatch
Pairing: Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu
Rating: G.
Word Count: 1124
Brief tags: Fluff, Texting, Selfies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: Akande wouldn’t really need a cellphone if it wasn’t because Lúcio always sends him cute messages.

You can read it under the cut or in AO3!

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Originally posted by wonhontology

Title: Arrangement
Words: 6137
Genre: Smut
Other: Callboy!shownu

Your name: submit What is this?

Shownu joined the business out of necessity, he had been friends with Wonho for many years but never actually considered it a viable career till he was in major debt. In fear of losing his apartment he called up his friend and asked him what were the requirements; after a week of auditions he’d been accepted as one of the few call boys who weren’t hired out for “companionship” - but more for lap dances or as a high class escort. He found that he enjoyed it after a while, even though the first week had been exhausting, sometimes working over 50 hours a week, he realized that he had skills that men and women alike both sought out.  

Shownu was highly charismatic, people enjoyed talking to him and women loved having him on their arm for the night. When it came down to the more raunchy side of the business his expectations were instantly risen - he didn’t have sex with clients who hadn’t reserved him less than five times - meaning they were extremely wealthy and wouldn’t skimp out on paying for his companionship services. To say he was a bit shallow when it came to who he slept with, was an understatement, he didn’t serve older men or older women as it just wasn’t his style. Most of his clients were between the ages of 20 to 40, and most of them were women with an itch only he could scratch.

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They met at a dog park.

Which is weird in and of itself because a) Dean hates driving dogs in his baby; b) it’s not even his dog; and c) He’s still pissed at Sam for skipping out on him and their dad only to come back with a dog sized golden retriever he named Bones of all things. Jesus, Sam, you’d think you’re have a little more imagination considering you hid from one of the best damn trackers for two weeks only to name a dog after something we see every day. 

Dean sighed to himself. All that and he still has somehow found himself on pooch duty in some dog park in the middle of Illinois of all things. 

“He is limping.” Dean turned to the sound of a gruff voice coming from right behind in. 

“Yeah well, he’s old.” His comeback was coming out before he got a good look at the guy he was talking to. 

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you can have physics, but we've got chemistry

im here, im queer, im disappointing because i’m leaving to go skiing rip sorry about tags and all that i’ll fix it when i get wifi


(not my gif yo if you know who’s it is please hit me up so i can credit) 

You didn’t hate Peter Parker.

On the contrary, if you had once looked past your stubbornness on competing with him academically, you two could’ve bonded over Jurassic Park and your similar music tastes and overall, would’ve been probably great friends.

But, no. Instead, you had sworn some sort of grudge against him when your physics teacher announced they had a new top of the class - bumping you into second place, Peter was taking first place. You were pretty level headed most of the time but physics was your best subject – and you were the best at it. To say, you weren’t the happiest camper with your silver medal.

So, no. You didn’t hate Peter Parker but you certainly didn’t like him. At least till now.

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Bae Jinyoung Mafia AU

warning: violence, blood

  • you work at this convenience store in a not-so-great part of time
  • as a high-school-er, it’s not ideal to have a job, but you make do with what you have
  • you’re also like 95% sure that the bar next door to the convenience store sells some weird drugs or some shit out of the back
  • but you value your life, so you don’t press it
  • one night during your shift, you were managing the cash register when a classmate of yours, bae jinyoung, bought some energy drinks
  • he looked a bit surprised to see you, and you were surprised to see him as well
  • “do you live in this part of town?” he asked hesitantly, almost as though he was nervous
  • you explained that you didn’t live there, but you’d seen the job offering and taken it immediately
  • he bids you good night and hurries off into the night
  • (you totally weren’t watching where he went) but you could have sworn that he ducked into the bar next door
  • shaking the odd feeling off, you turned back to the book that you were reading, waiting for your shift to end
  • the next day in class, you see jinyoung and you make kind of awkward eye contact before turning back to your own work
  • he was fairly popular at your school, and people liked him, but he didn’t seem to have many close friends at your own high school, explaining to people that his best friend went to a different high school
  • when you were coming into school a few days later, jinyoung apparently wasn’t there because everyone was gossiping about him
  • someone in your homeroom had a friend at the other high school in town, and bae jinyoung’s best friend park jihoon was rumored to be in the 101, the mafia that held control over most crime in the area
  • you didn’t give it much thought, chalking it up to jealous teenagers, but that night when jinyoung stopped in the convenience store to buy energy drinks again, you couldn’t help but stare as he quickly darted into the bar
  • maybe he was in 101 as well as his friend from that other school,,,
  • no way, you scolded himself, this was the guy whose face was smaller than a lollipop, he’s not in the mafia
  • welp
  • a few weeks later, you were just chilling, restocking the magazines, when you heard the loud, telltale pop of rapid gunfire
  • someone burst into the convenience store and yelled for you to get down
  • you did as you were told, crawling over to where jinyoung crouched as well
  • “what’s going on? why is there shooting?”
  • jinyoung grimaced, peeking his head out of the window quickly before ducking down again
  • “is there a light switch or something that you can turn off?”
  • you nodded, reaching up to flick the lights off
  • “ok, do you have the keys?”
  • shakily, you reached into your back pocket and handed jinyoung the keys to the front door
  • he quickly darted over, locking the door before returning to your crouched position behind the cash register
  • “sorry about that,” he sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair, “i’m sure you’ve already figured this out, but i’m involved with 101. we have some operations next door, and someone thought it would be a good idea to try and raid our supply” he explained
  • “then why are you here?” you asked, still totally in confusion
  • jinyoung blushed a bit, looking down at the ground
  • “i-i mean, i knew that you were working this shift, and the guys attacking have a tendency to kill any witnesses, so i wanted to make sure you’d be safe.” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes
  • “oh,” you replied, nodding, “well, thanks”
  • the close proximity of the two of you definitely made your heart race
  • “yeah, no problem.”
  • after that night, you guys become friends obviously
  • he says hi to you in the mornings before class, and stops in more frequently to buy a drink or something, just to chat with you a bit during the shift since he knows how boring it gets for you
  • one day he doesn’t show up for school
  • and the teacher’s really frustrated and asks the class if anyone speaks with jinyoung
  • “oh, (y/n) is close with him!”
  • the teacher explains that jinyoung needs to finish a couple assignments by friday, otherwise he’ll fail maths
  • and she gives you the assignments to pass onto him
  • and ur like um i don’t really know where he is but OK
  • you bring the assignments home with you, thinking that maybe he’ll stop by the convenience store
  • all during your shift, you’re hoping that he’ll stop by, but of course he doesn’t
  • when you’re done with your shift and changed back into your school uniform, stepping out onto the street, you can’t help but stare at the bar next door
  • after contemplating for a bit, you march over there, determined to not let jinyoung fail his class
  • the bouncer stops you and is like
  • “girl you’re not even trying to pretend to be of-age”
  • and you sort of huff and glare at him “i’m with jinyoung,” you said confidently, hoping that would get you in
  • for some reason, it actually does, and you quickly slip in, not really sure what you’re looking for
  • your uniform and obvious young age draws you a lot of attention
  • “hey there, young lady,” a man with a charming smile approaches you “are you here to inquire about the job?”
  • “j-job?” you stammer  out  “no, i’m from jinyoung’s high school, i’m here to deliver an assignment”
  • the guy looks you up and down, eyes flickering to your name tag before grinning
  • “ah, so you’re the infamous (y/n),” he gestured for you to follow him “how convenient, we were just talking about you”
  • he leads you to a back hallway, and was about to open a door when you heard glass smash against a wall
  • the guy winced at that “sorry about that, i guess they’re still talking about you”
  • “hyung, if you think i’m really going to put my entire life on the line for some stupid gang of yours, you’re sorely mistaken”
  • “you took the oath, jinyoung, you have to. besides, we already gave you an alternative”
  • “oh, drag (y/n) into 101? hell fucking no, I’m not a fucking asshole”
  • the man standing next to you knocked on the door
  • “jinyoung? someone’s here to see you”
  • “TELL THEM TO CALL ME LATER”
  • “no dear, i think you’ll want to see her.”
  • jinyoung stuck his head out of the room, clearly pissed off
  • as soon as he saw you, his anger melted into concern
  • “(y/n), what are you doing here?” he asked frantically, looking at you, “you shouldn’t come here, it’s dangerous!”
  • “oh, i just wanted to give you your math homework,” you stammered, reaching into your backpack, “teacher says that if you don’t turn it in by friday, you might fail the class.”
  • “OH, AND YOU’RE FAILING MATH. JUST GREAT, JINYOUNG” someone yelled from inside the room
  • you frowned, looking in the direction of the room
  • “hey, i didn’t say he was currently failing math, i said he might, there’s a big difference,” you folded your arms after handing him the packet of work. “if you want, i can show you a few of the problems tomorrow before school?”
  • “Jinyoung,” the man standing next to you said in a low, almost threatening voice
  • jinyoung turned to you, teeth gritted
  • “i’d love to”
  • “great! i’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?”
  • you hurried out of the bar, wanting to get away from that intense atmosphere
  • the next morning, you ended up being the first person to arrive to your classroom
  • jinyoung showed up with some breakfast bread and steaming hot coffee, setting one down next to you
  • “hey, (y/n), i actually kind of need to talk to you about something other than math,” jinyoung sighed, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, “i’ll just cut straight to it– I like you, a lot. My hyungs know it too, and I was planning on asking you out a while ago, but ever since you found out about 101, they don’t want me involved with you, since someone could use you as leverage over me. basically, they said that the only way i could date you is if you agreed to work in association with 101.”
  • you frowned, trying to process everything
  • “y-you like me?”
  • “yeah,,,” jinyoung smiled at you, “i know it’s a lot to think about, and i definitely don’t expect you to change your whole life just for some guy. I just wanted to tell you I liked you while I still have the chance.”
  • “Jinyoung, I like you to,” you told him, smiling widely, “we can figure something out, but for now, just know that I like you.”
  • after trading smiles, the two of you start working on math again
  • you two weren’t calling what you had dating, but it was dating
  • he would buy you food in the morning, walk you to work
  • if he had a rough day, or if he knew you had a rough day, you would call each other on the phone and just talk for hours
  • your first kiss was in the back room of the convenience store, next to pallets of instant ramyeon and soy milk cans, but it was perfect
  • his best friend, jihoon, helped jinyoung convince his hyungs to let him date you, and eventually they agree as long as you get some training from them (like self defense)
  • the guy who had been yelling at jinyoung (who he loving referred to as “auntie) even bought you a thing of pepper spray to always carry around
  • jinyoung always makes sure to treat you right and that you’re safe and comfortable while still maintaining your own independence and respect
Five Hundred Words *Jughead Jones x Reader*

Originally posted by imaginationworlds

Prompt: “Wait where is my homework?” 
“You did your homework?”
“…”
“Oh, yeah, right. I didn’t!”

Note:- This is my first, ever, try at writing Jughead, so, forgive me if I suck at this. I left the ending open for a possible second part, depending on if I am good at this and I get a good response, then I’ll write the second part. - Ro



You didn’t quite remember how the hanging out started, it sort of, just happened. No words were exchanged the first few times, it was comfortable silence and that’s really what you both like about one another; the silence. The easy and relaxing silence. The no need for useless conversation or forced interactions. He would be immersed in his writing, fingers typing quickly, and skillfully on the keyboard. Writing his inner thoughts and the town’s deepest secrets. You would be reading or drawing, little doodles of random things.

That’s why Jughead likes you. He doesn’t have to interact in order to be around you, he doesn’t have to speak or really listen, he just has to be there and you’re happy. It makes writing his novel easier, he doesn’t have to stop and talk or answer questions; he can just write and get on with it. That’s thing, though, he doesn’t have to, but then sometimes he wants to. Lately, he has started up conversations, it’s never normally lengthy or immersive but it’s little chats.

He’d ask about your drawings, mostly. You seemed more comfortable talking about your art than yourself, he noticed how twitchy you got when the topic of home or family was brought up, how you would smoothly transition to something else. After a few attempts, he eventually stopped asking, knowing how he’d hate it if someone kept pushing him on his predicament with “home” and “family”.

When you talked about your drawings, sketches and sometimes watercolours, you were a different person. The normal, reserved, shy and slightly weird girl was replaced with this passionate, smiley and confident girl. You carried a small sketchbook with you, everywhere, it was to jot down any muse you suddenly got. You never let anyone see the sketchbook, Jug, had a few glimpses but that’s about it. Like, everyone else, he only had the pleasure of seeing your art when it was fully done and on canvas or parchment paper. He understood that perfectionist of his writing, he doesn’t like when people ask to look at his stuff when it’s not 100% proofed for it.

Of course, he laughed at the cliche you two. The writer and the painter, two artists, who have broken souls and view the world through a warped, tinted window. You showing your view through illustration, graceful paint or pencil strokes, capturing the world in a still. And him, through the art of words, his view laid out and written down in carefully, constructed sentences. Two people who create, who are outsiders due to their lack of social skills, and yet, have found redemption of this by socialising with one another.

He usually hated cliches but he overlooked this one, just this once.

So, here you both are in the corner booth, as usual, at Pop’s. Two milkshakes in front of you, one chocolate and the other strawberry. Him with his laptop open, fingers typing down his recent findings of the murder mystery that haunted your pitiful town of, Riverdale. And you, red leather bound sketchbook open, two blank pages facing you. Pencil in your right hand as you stared out of the window, it was raining, making the window mist up.

Letting out a small, gentle sigh, you glance over to Jughead and watch him type for a few minutes. His raven hair that was peeking out from under the unique beanie, curled and fell into his face, he was too in his ‘zone’ to sweep it away. His green eyes swept across the screen, focus and determination behind them.

It was creeping late into the evening, you’d have to get going soon, you always hated leaving for some reason. You closed your sketchbook and opened your study books, frowning seeing no notes, or even your finished homework. That was extremely odd, you had math and science, where the hell was it? You’ve been at Pop’s since school ended.

“You going?” Jughead’s voice rang out. His eyes still glued to his screen, excessive typing but he knew whenever you shut your sketchbook it was home time.

You didn’t answer as you flipped through the many, blank, pages of the study. “Wait. Where’s my homework?” You asked with annoyance, looking around the table irritably.

“You did your homework?” Jughead raised his eyebrows, actually looking over the lid of his laptop to you, shock evident in his voice.

You both stared at one another, him not believing you had done it, whilst you were dead certain you did. Jughead’s mouth curved up into a smirk as realisation dawned on you, you didn’t do your homework, in fact, you didn’t do anything but sit in Pop’s drinking your milkshake.

“Oh, yeah, right. I didn’t!” You frowned and closed your books, Jughead could sense something was wrong but didn’t know if you wanted to talk or just suffer in silence, as usual. “But, yeah, I should get going home.” You shrugged lightly, an indication that you were fine.

He nodded, “Alright. I’m gonna use the restroom, then I’ll walk you home,” you chuckled at Jughead. “A killer is walking around, what type of person would I be if I just let you walk home alone,” you had to nod in agreement as he stood up and walked out of sight.

The weird feeling erupted in your stomach, you got this whenever you were alone with Jughead but it would simmer away, although it always came back when he offered to walk you home. It was weird, Jughead always walked you home, it was nothing new but yet, it was affecting you. You couldn’t possibly have a crush on Jughead, right? No, he’s your friend, you’d say best friend almost. Although, it’s rational, to develop a crush. You see and spend time with him every day, he’s like you and attractive.

He seemed to like your company. Jughead doesn’t tolerate anyone, if he has a problem or doesn’t like someone, they usually know about it. Hence the argument he had with Archie, his former best friend, who in which is trying to make amends with. So, obviously, he must like you to a degree, especially to spend every day with you! Going by all previous conversations, which are a handful you doubt that you or Jug would say anything to one another about feelings.

Noticing his open laptop an idea popped into your head. You were never, ever, this forward. Was this even being forward? You had to work fast.

When Jughead came back he closed his laptop and placed it neatly in his bag, offering a half smile and you got out of the booth, knowing full well that when he was at his place he’d see what you left. You only hoped that your act of regretful confidence would work out.

You had small chatter along the way, you complained about the weather, you hated when it rained it always shone through in your art. You don’t know what it is but the gloomy weather always made your muse a little dreary; you hated those pieces, yet the darker ones were often, Jughead’s favourite to look at when they were done. When you reached your home, you sighed at the parked cars, your parents are home; never good, especially when they’re home together.

“Night, Juggers,” You nudged his shoulder and he rolled his eyes at the nickname, it accumulated over milkshakes a few weeks back.

“Night, Y/N, meet at Pop’s for breakfast?” He asked already walking back towards the diner, he stayed there until closing, something, Pop, himself told you.  

You chuckled, “Sure.” Before walking into your house, as soon as, you opened the door you heard the yelling and sighed lightly before stalking towards your room.

Jughead, sat back in the booth, requesting a coffee as he opened his laptop once more. Keen to get this final thought down before it drifted away, only something caught his eye. A file on his desktop sat, titled ‘Read Me’, he opened it and skimmed through the document. 

Out of the five hundred words written, he only managed to comprehend the ones saying you liked him. A lot of the words were sentences of “I’m not good with words like you are.”, it made him chuckle. He frowned, normally people doing anything remotely related to feelings towards him would repulse him, yet you? It made him feel at ease. 

Five hundred words and he feels a weight lifted off of him and he didn’t know why. Well, he knew why but he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit it to himself! 

(God, this probably sucks. I am sorry if I wrote him wrong, I tried. At least, I tried, right? Let me know if I should do a part two, I am taking on Jughead and Archie requests, so feel free to leave an idea for me to write. - Ro) 
I didn’t tag because I have no idea if any of my taggers like Riverdale. 

If I do a part two, let me know by commenting on this if you wanna be tagged for it.

Modern Animorphs AU (part 2)

@jollysunflora : The second half of my complete list of modern AU Animorphs headcanons, approximately one per book.  

28. “Ax,” Marco says, “How come you can roll out ‘venti dulce de leche dark-chocolate frappuchino extra whip’ without batting an eye, but you giggle every time you have to say the word ‘soy’?”

  • “It has so many vowel—owl?—sounds, in so little space,” Ax says.  “That long sssssssssss, so pleasant on the tongue, but then that odd oooyyy ooy-yah?  All in the back of the mouth.  Very strange.  Sssoooy.  Ssususs-oooyaaa.”
  • “Also, he’s moved on from the frappuchinos,” Tobias adds.  “Now he keeps spending all our hard-stolen bitcoins on espresso mack… mach…”
  • “Espresso macchiato con panna,” Ax explains.  “Doppio.”

29. Cassie feels herself sweating as she props the laptop across the room from her, tools laid out and Ax unconscious on the table.  She never expected to find a YouTube video on how to perform brain surgery—and to be honest, it’s actually about “how neurosurgeons perform an orbitozygomatic craniotomy,” not intended to be a how-to manual—but it’s the best she can do under the circumstances, and so she’ll follow along for now.  

MM3.  “That’s the kind of strong leadership we need.”  Jake gestures to the full-color television (this year’s latest model) where a program of their current leader plays on a loop.  “Keeping the wrong kind of people out of this country, saving America for the right kind of Americans.”

  • “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rachel says.  She and Tobias and Jake are the only three Animorphs, except when Melissa joins them sometimes, and listening to their “Supreme Leader” blather on gets old sometimes.  “All I want to know is whether it’s true that within a few years people will really have phones that plug into their cars.  That’d be cool.”
  • Tobias rubs his eyes against the silk of his wing feathers.  They itch constantly, since he doesn’t have a gas mask to wear every time he goes out into the pollution-opaque air outside the way that his human friends do.  Jake and Rachel take bets sometimes, idly, brutally, about whether he’s the last raptor left on the face of the planet.
  • “Magnificent!”  Drode appears in their midst, and both the Berensons immediately point guns at his head.

30. Marco is lying on his bed the day after watching Eva fall, staring at a patch of wall above his dresser, when he registers that his phone has been buzzing for a while now.  It goes off so many times he assumes he has to be getting a call, but when he checks his notifications he just discovers he’s gotten seventeen text messages in the last hour.  

  • The first is from “Smurfette,” and says “Did you know that there is a type of food that involves baking a cinnamon bun inside of a donut?  We must secure as many of these as it is possible for a human to consume, as soon as possible!”
  • The next one, from “Hawkgirl,” reads: “found out recently that apparently ax still thinks you invented flea powder.  i told him that if youd invented flea powder wed all be a lot richer right now.”
  • “Team Dad” (not to be confused with “Real Dad,” which is how Marco lists Peter) sent along several invitations to team missions on League of Legends this afternoon, along with a threat to have Cassie play Marco’s avatar if Marco doesn’t join in.  “we both know that by the time you get back you’ll have only healing attacks and she’ll have trained it to apologize automatically for stabbing people,” Jake adds.
  • One of the many texts from “Julia Butterfly Hill” suggests that Jake has underestimated Cassie’s diabolical streak, because it’s a screenshot of a clone of his account which has had its name changed to HarambeWasFramed.
  • The real surprise, however, is the single text from “Xena: Warrior Princess.”  It’s a link to an article about a disaster in the local national park and the efforts to clean up the wreckage of an as-yet-unidentified craft which went down in the canyon.  Marco has to read it a few times to understand the point she’s making, because it’s all about what’s not there: the article makes no mention of any human bodies being found among the wreckage.  
  • Marco gets halfway through typing a reply to them all which informs them in no uncertain terms that he sees through their transparent attempts to cheer him up and doesn’t appreciate it, but he deletes without sending.  He can practically hear his mom’s voice saying it: he can focus on the fact that he’s still surrounded by people who love him, or he can focus on the negative side of everything.  And being constantly negative is no way to live.  

31. “Sharing this again, because its been 3 months,” Jake’s cousin Brooke posts on Facebook.  “Anyone who has any news at all about Saddler, no matter what it is, PLEASE contact my family.  Big brother, I dont know if youre still out there, but I miss you.  I miss you like crazy.”

  • Jake turns up his Spotify’s Offspring channel a little louder to drown out the sounds of Tom and his dad shouting at each other downstairs.  His eyes flinch past Brooke’s post, but they can’t move fast enough to prevent the thought that flashes across the surface of his mind: Is this going to be me a year from now?

32. Tobias texts Rachel and Jake an article from Audubon.Org, where several birdwatchers are going into ecstasies of scientific fascination at the bald eagle and peregrine falcon seen flying in close formation in a cell-phone video taken near a highway overpass downtown.  His only comment is, “Told you so.”

33.  In the aftermath, Rachel does a Google search: “PTSD treatment symptoms outcomes.”  She reads through the WebMD site, the NIMH page, the Wikipedia link to a DSM-5 entry.  She thinks of Tobias’s withdrawn silences, his antipathy toward so much they used to enjoy, but she thinks of other things as well.  How exhausted Jake seems any time they’re not on-mission.  How badly Cassie flinches when the school bell rings and doors slam.  How Ax seems to be gradually losing interest in the things—cooking shows, new condiments, human history trivia, These Messages—that once drew his fascination.  How last week Marco flicked an ant off the back of his hand and then went white like he’d just kicked a puppy.  How good it had felt when she’d hurt David, spreading the pain around, giving it back.

  • She catches an Uber to the clinic downtown, filling out forms in the waiting room based on the checklist written on her phone for “how to get tobias an ssri”: Yes, she often feels tense and worried.  Yes, her heart often races for no reason.  No, she hasn’t thought of ending her life.  No, she doesn’t feel out of control when she eats.  
  • She gets as far as developing a cover story—it’s about how she’s never felt the same since her parents’ divorce—but in the hallway to the office she panics and calls Cassie.  “Am I doing the right thing?” she asks, after she’s explained.
  • Cassie is silent for a long time, never a good sign.  “I’m not sure an SSRI would work on a bird,” she says at last, “and that’s even if we could figure out a dose that would work without killing him.  I know you want to help, and I think you should, but…”
  • Rachel hears what she’s not saying: but what if her mom asks too many questions?  But is this risk really worth it?  But what if the psychiatrist (the receptionist, the pharmacist) is a controller?  But isn’t it them, and only them, against the world, and isn’t that just how it has to be?
  • “The war won’t last forever,” Cassie says weakly, and Rachel hates her a little for it.  “When it’s over, when we get to tell everyone what’s happening…”
  • Rachel hangs up.  She goes home, morphs, and flies out to the woods.  
  • «You know I love you, right?» she asks Tobias later that evening.
  • «Of course I do.»  He sounds exhausted.  She’s never felt more helpless in her life.

34. The Yeerk Peace Movement, as it comes out, has a Twitter feed.  It is rather painfully obvious that it has been set up and run entirely by aliens who are doing their very best to communicate with humans, and not quite succeeding. Most of the posts are couplets, for some reason that none of the Animorphs can fathom.  

  • “Want to be On Fleek? When you see someone’s rights threatened, speak!”
  • “Don’t be a Belieber anymore - end slavery and even the score.”
  • “#tbt: Remember when we were symbiotes?  Give taxxon freedom your sympathy votes!”
  • “Nickelback is super lame, and keeping involuntary hosts is just the same.”
  • “Respect your host’s rights today, and make your human into your bae!”

35. It’s Marco who comes up with the idea for how to take down William Roger Tennant.  This is a guy, after all, whose cockatiels have their own Instagram account: he runs his fame on the internet.  

  • “It’s simple,” Marco explains. “We start a hashtag—#notsonicetennant—and we make it go viral.  All we have to do is film this guy everywhere he goes, and eventually the yeerk will slip up.”
  • It proves not to be simple after all.  Their gif of Tennant twitching madly mid-EPA speech gets overshadowed by the news story about One Direction nearly getting poisoned with spiders at the same banquet. Ax does not understand the concept of hashtag, and keeps adding #notsonicetennant to his retweets of what Marco calls “food porn.” They train one of Tobias’s repurposed GoPros to follow poodle-Marco, but that becomes a meme mocking the world’s most obnoxious stray dog rather than Tennant himself.
  • The plan finally, finally comes off when they pull out all the stops and just confront him in morph.  The smartphones that Rachel rigged up in the surrounding buildings don’t pick up the thought speak, but the audio of Tennant screaming at the aliens to leave him alone comes through just fine.
  • When the scandal breaks, the internet (in truly predictable fashion) drops #notsonicetennant and starts using #tennantgate instead.  
  • Ax reposts an old photo of Tennant eating a quinoa salad—zoomed in on the salad—and tags it #tennantgate.  All of his teammates assure him they appreciate the attempt.

36. “All right, that’s just weird,” Marco says, looking at the final entry in the underwater creepshow they’ve been walking through for the past hour.  “All the other ships have been getting more modern as we’ve gone, but this one?  Looks like it was made in the sixties, at the latest.”

  • «The world’s creepiest museum curators are getting sloppy with the placement of bodies as well,» Tobias points out.  «There’s no way that many people could fit on a boat that small.  They’re practically falling over the sides.»
  • Jake and Cassie look at each other, seeing the same realization reflected in each other’s eyes.  Neither one of them wants to say it out loud.
  • Jake becomes the one to bite the bullet.  “Don’t you get it?”  He points to the ragged clothes, the emaciated bodies, the modern smartphone tucked in among the antiquated radio equipment.  “They were refugees.”

37. Rachel shuts the window on the library computer as soon as she hears someone walk into the room, but she can tell she was too late by the look on Jake’s face when she turns around.  

  • “Roy Ludvig, huh?” Jake says.  “Heck of a name.”
  • “He was at the T.V. studio when we attacked.”  Rachel looks down, picking at her nail polish.  “No civilians were supposed to be in danger.”
  • Jake’s expression softens, as much as it ever does.  “And now you’re scrolling through his Facebook, looking for something that’ll let you sleep at night.”  
  • “He’s got a grandson,” Rachel blurts.  “Jordan’s age.  He…”  She shrugs.  He’s dead, and it’s more or less her fault.
  • “Shouldn’t be looking on Facebook.”  Jake sets his phone on the library table next to her, taps the screen to bring up an official-looking report.  “You should be, say, borrowing my dad’s computer.  Sending an email from his account to ask for the guy’s medical records.  If you had, you’d know that Mr. Roy Ludvig had a heart condition.  That he had maybe a year to live, at most, and doctors said he might die at any old time.”
  • Rachel looks down at the report for a long time, and eventually looks up at Jake.  “Doesn’t make it okay, what I did,” she says.  “He’s still dead.”
  • Jake shrugs.  “You don’t have to forget it ever happened, but you do have to live with it.  Live, and fight another day.”

38. In the aftermath of Estrid’s visit, Tobias is flying over the boardwalk when he sees a henna artist who clearly smokes way too much pot to be a Yeerk. He gets Ax, they morph human, and both get henna tattoos of Elfangor’s name. (Ax had previously expressed an admiration for the human tradition of commemorating a lost loved one by making markings on one’s body.) They know the tats will disappear when they demorph, but they’re both glad they did it. The artist asks how long they’ve been together, and Tobias says in a scandalized voice, “he’s my UNCLE!” Thus, Tobias succeeds in both of his goals: making Ax laugh, and reminding him he has family here on Earth. Honestly, the reminder doesn’t hurt Tobias either.

39. “You know, not all squirrels are like that,” Marco is fond of saying after a morph goes wrong.  “Not all termites are horrifying worker drones.”  Sometimes it’s, “You know, some of my best friends are fleas.”

  • It’s Cassie, however, who gets the last laugh out of that one.  «You know, Marco,» she says as they swim away from the wreckage of the helicopter, «Not all ants are like that, right?  I shouldn’t say that all ants are killers, right?»
  • Marco stares at her in silence while the others snicker, watching him war between the two impulses: to keep the joke going forever, and to express his honest hatred of ants.  
  • «Come on.»  And now Rachel has joined in on the teasing.  «You’re just going to let that kind of besmirching of the ant community stand?»  
  • «Okay, okay!»  Marco gives in.  «Ants suck.  Yes, all ants!»

40. “Our experts have examined the video extensively, and near as we can conclude, this footage is genuine and unedited,” the newscaster says.  “Given how viral this video has proven to be, with over two million views since it was posted to YouTube on Wednesday, everyone wants to know: is this footage proof that aliens exist?  Is this a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fantastic Beasts sequel?  Or, as one YouTube commenter asks, did a Smurf just have sex with a centaur?”

  • «Potential new ally?» Tobias suggests.  He’s already tapping out a search for the original video in his modified tablet.
  • Ax laughs.  «Of course not.  He’s crippled.  A vecol.  Useless.  We must respect the privacy of his isolation.»
  • “You know what?  Fuck that,” Marco snaps.  He shoves to his feet, posture tight with anger.  “Just… Fuck that,” he tells Ax.  “I have ADHD.  Attention Deficit whateverthefuck.  I take a pill every morning to help me function because my brain isn’t good enough to filter stimuli all by itself.  I got a fucking 135 on the world’s most boring IQ test and I’m still failing half my classes.  I’m a vecol.  You think I’m useless, huh?  You gonna start refusing to talk to me because of some bullshit about ‘respecting’ my ‘privacy’?  Huh?”
  • «That’s different,» Ax says.  «You’re not…»  He doesn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence.  
  • «If he’s an exception, I hope I am too,» Tobias says more gently.  «I got screened for anxiety disorders as a kid, and I guess we’ll never know if I qualify or not, ‘cause my aunt decided that doctors cost money and if the test said I needed one then she didn’t want to know about it.»
  • Ax doesn’t answer for a long time.  He doesn’t seem to know where to look.  
  • «Let’s go tell the others what we found.»  Tobias taps a button to send the video to himself.  «We can talk more about this later.»

MM4. Tobias flinches when his phone makes the small ping sound that means he has an alert.  The new kid is the easy target in every school on the planet.  He wonders what it’ll be this time: another Facebook post where the semi-anonymous account Toby IsALoser tags him in another meme about how he has to pay people for sex because the sight of his body would make any normal girl run away screaming, another unnamed Instagram ping telling him he should kill himself so that no one has to look at his stupid fat face anymore, another Snapchat image of a puddle of vomit with the caption “me when I think of you,” an email with the most disgusting gif anyone could find after a quick search…

  • It’s not, though.  It’s an invite to join a private Facebook group, called The Sharing, with several hundred local members.  Most of the names Tobias recognizes are cool older kids from the high school.  Intrigued, willing to trust for the moment that this isn’t some ridiculously elaborate prank, Tobias clicks “join.”  

41. Jake looks around at the enormous open field, concrete pitted with openings and low hovels of corrugated steel and rebar.  He can see for nearly half a mile in every direction before the smog makes it impossible, and the tallest things around are the hunched hork-bajir.  “Where are we?” he asks.

  • Cassie frowns.  “This?  Jake, this is downtown Manhattan.”
  • He gapes at her.  “What happened to it?”
  • “Tall buildings are targets for drone strikes,” she says casually, turning away.  “The only way to be safe was to go underground.”

42. Marco doesn’t bother going to the house of the guy who photographed them, nor does he try to catch the kid before he uploads the video anywhere.  Instead he waits for the image to appear on YouTube, then becomes the first commenter.  “Sweet manip!” he says.  “Is that Photoshop, or can you do that in free programs like Gimp?”

43.  “EarthIsOurs-dot-tumblr-dot-com?” Marco says incredulously.  “What does Taylor do there, post pictures of her pet taxxon?  Reblog plans for planetary domination?”

  • «Judging from her archive history, she’s had this blog for many years,» Ax says.  «She recently changed the domain name, but some of the content on here is from as early as 2008.»
  • Jake and Marco get caught up in debating with Cassie about what exactly to send to her, but Tobias just scrolls quietly through Taylor’s old posts.  She didn’t lie about being beautiful, he realizes, or about being popular.  There’s a long blank period in her tumblr account in mid-2014.  And then she posted one selfie—just one—after the fire.  
  • He can’t bring himself to read the names that the trolls call her, or the discussions about how much money they’d have to be paid to have sex with her.  But there’s no overlooking the suggestions that she kill herself.  The posts are too numerous, too vitriolic.  
  • “Every chick ever to wander onto the internet has gotten that crap,” Rachel says; clearly she’s been reading over his shoulder.  “She should’ve developed thick skin, not joined the Sharing.”
  • Tobias thinks of the Facebook page made at his old school just to discuss the fact that he’s a chubby zit-face, of the posts which eventually overwhelmed his Instagram with death threats.  «Yeah, I guess,» he says.

44.  It takes a long time for Cassie to get home from Australia, but at least they’re not too worried for most of that time; she texts them her location and a brief description of the insanity that landed her in the Outback as soon as she gets in contact with Yami’s family.

45.  “None of this makes any sense,” Peter says.  “I’m hallucinating, or you’re delusional, or else—”

  • Marco sets his phone in Peter’s lap. “Check the timestamp, Dad.  I took that six months ago.”
  • Peter stares at the phone for a long minute, and then slowly looks up at Marco.  At a clear loss for words, he tilts his head back toward the screen.
  • “I know.”  Marco laughs, the sound wet with tears.  “That blond wig looks terrible on her.  But it’s really her, Dad.  I swear.”

46. “So they’re going to get the U.S. embroiled in another war,” Marco says.  “And this one with a country that can actually fight back.”

  • «Seems like,» Tobias says.  «Only why bother with all the secrecy and political wrangling?  Why not just send a couple mean tweets to Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un?  That’d probably do the job just as well.»
  • “No, it wouldn’t.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking around at them all.  “The yeerks need a total war.  Everything the U.S. and its allies can pull out, against everything China and its allies can muster.  Our military has gotten too used to sending drones to fight its wars, to ‘tactical strikes’ against insurgents.  If the yeerks want half the species annihilated, they have to do a lot more than poke a couple of egos.”

47. “News flash,” Marco says.  “Your average suburbanite ain’t gonna accept a seven-foot-tall alien for a neighbor.  You know the number of times my mom’s been asked for proof of citizenship before she was allowed to vote or cash a paycheck or buy a car?  How many times she’s been pulled over by cops while driving the speed limit with her seatbelt on?  And she’s a regular old human being.  Toby’s right—the hork-bajir have a whole other fight coming if we ever win the war.”  

48. Rachel feels the blood drain from her face when she opens the Facebook message and sees the name attached.  David’s Facebook account has been defunct for almost two years now; there’s no one left who would want or even be able to access it from the outside.  Should be no one.

  • Miss me? the message from David’s account says.
  • Who are you? she types with shaking fingers.  What do you want?
  • I know what you did.  I’m coming for you.  I’ve got friends all over the place and they’ll find you.  They’ll kill you.  Amazing the allies you can get, when you know where the bodies are kept.  On the internet, no one knows you’re a—
  • Rachel hits “block.”  She tells herself that the screaming nightmares she has all that night and into the next are the product of having a stressful life, she’s an Animorph for pete’s sake.
  • She doesn’t stop shuddering every time she gets a message for the next two weeks, but she never hears from whoever (It wasn’t David. It couldn’t have been.) it was ever again.

49.  They stagger away from yet another hopeless fight, all of them injured, half of them missing limbs or bleeding to death.  Dragging their damaged bodies behind the first dumpster they find, they demorph, remorph, and force their minds to focus long enough for the long flight home.  It’s only when Rachel is in owl morph, staring around the dimly lit alleyway, that she sees the security camera pointed directly at their location.  

  • «They must not check it that often,» Marco says without much hope.  «Or else they’d be out here already to come looking for us.»
  • «Doesn’t matter,» Tobias says harshly.  «It had a perfectly clear view of all your human faces.  And that building is owned by the yeerks.»
  • They all stare at each other in dull shock as the realization sinks in.  They always knew this moment was coming—they could only be so careful for so long—and yet, on some level each of them hoped it never would.  
  • «Take one more night to be with your families,» Jake says at last.  «We evacuate everyone in the morning.»
  • Jake loses his phone, again, somewhere amidst all the chaos.  This time around he doesn’t bother to replace it.  It’s not like his mom is going to be wondering where he is, not anymore.  

50.  “So,” Jake says, “this is going to sound crazy, but—”

  • “Aliens are invading the planet, and you’re the only kid terrorist who can stop them?” James suggests.  “We do have wifi up here, you know.  You’re Jake Berenson, right?  You’re all over the conspiracy theorists’ forums right now.”
  • “Um.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, starts again.  “Yeah, pretty much.”
  • James nods.  “In that case, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince me your story’s not a load of crap before I call security.”  

51. Ax secures their wifi in something a billion times better-hidden than Tor.  With that reassurance, they all end up starting blogs.

  • Marco’s is a rambling string of wry comments about everything from the invasion to his parents’ science projects.  Sample post: “Insider source (aka my mom): Visser Three has morphed human and eaten AN ENTIRE BAG OF MARSHMALLOWS in one sitting, ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION.  Pass it on!”
  • Jake’s is the place that people go to find out how they can help, and to get his reassurance that the help means something.  Sample post: “As Barack Obama says, ‘We the people recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom without a commitment to others is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense.’  This fight will never be over just as long as we keep supporting each other.  I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you all for the KickStarter donations.”
  • Rachel’s has beauty tips for the American girl on the run, light and self-deprecating enough that you often don’t notice the undercurrent of desperation.  Sample post: “If you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror, try fixing your hair using reflective surfaces such as pots, ponds, or pieces of Bug fighter wreckage.  Alternately, just say ‘fuck it’ and never look at yourself again.”
  • Cassie’s tells people how to stay safe, and how to keep their environments safe as well.  Sample post: “Everyone please remember, it’s important to stock enough food and water for family pets as well as humans when retreating to an apocalypse bunker!”
  • Tobias’s has a lot of good-natured grumbling about everyday life in the valley.  Sample post: “In other news, my girlfriend’s mom is currently arguing with the smartest being on the face of the planet about where to put the new latrine facilities.  Sorry Naomi, but my money’s on Toby.”
  • Ax’s has a lot of food reviews, of course, but again there’s that undercurrent of desperation, almost like he’s trying to convince someone else (or maybe even himself) that humans are worth saving.  Sample post: “Marco assures me that there are no less than 23 distinct flavors contained within every sip of Dr. Pepper.  Just think of the years of experimentation and innovation it must have required to produce a drink which can inspire 23 different reactions from human taste buds, all at the same time.  Truly inspired genius.”

52. They run drills upon drills for what to do in case of a drone strike.  Using any morphs they have that can dig or build—mole, taxxon, elephant, beaver—the Animorphs create an extensive network of tunnels and shelters, posting guards at all times to keep their eyes on the sky.  The hork-bajir valley doesn’t show up on satellite imagery, which they only know thanks to Peter’s definitely-illegal fact-gathering missions on the darkweb, but they don’t know for sure whether an overhead camera would be subject to the same strange perceptual distortions they all experience when flying there as birds.  They nearly lose their precious secrecy when Naomi sends several emails from her work account, claiming she’s being held hostage and asking anyone who will listen to come rescue her.  Eva generates a hasty follow-up from the same account asking people to ignore “the prank that I now realize was in poor taste,” but none of them are sure it worked for the next several days.  

53. Rachel makes one last post on her nearly-extinct Instagram account.  This time the scrap of paper she uses appears to be torn from the back of a food label, but the penciled script is as intricate as ever.  It reads “Who wants to live forever? —Freddie Mercury, 1986”  

54. After it’s all over, Tobias retreats, he hides, but he keeps a thread of communication open.  Cassie shoots him an email with the subject line “Hawk patient with intermittent aggression and lethargy—any idea what could be causing it?”  Marco sends him idiotic memes that now feature the Animorphs’ names and faces.  Ax asks for constant updates on the new wing of Taco Bell being built downtown, and repays the favor by leaking confidential information about the search for the Blade ship.

  • And then he gets one of the stranger emails he’s ever received.  It’s an offer of a full legacy scholarship to Harvard University (which has just found the means to explain some inconsistencies in the records of one “Alan Fangor,” who graduated in the ‘80s) in exchange for Tobias teaching one class per semester on any subject of his choice.  He agrees, with the stipulation that all his classes be online.
  • The resultant course (Ornithology 442: An Insider’s Perspective) is like nothing the students who participate have ever seen before.  Tobias will write out rambling treatises on Why Blue Jays Suck or All the Ways Hawks Are Superior to Eagles with a thought-speak-to-text recorder.  He’ll deliver online lectures from a shaky webcam pointed into a nonspecific tree, occasionally wandering off for hours at a time to go hunting.  Students who ask him personal questions about Rachel get regurgitated mouse skeletons Fed-Exed to their campus mailboxes.  Essays that don’t demonstrate much effort get feedback such as “even I can tell this sucks and I have a seventh-grade education” or “my grandmother could make better sentences than this AND SHE’S AN ANDALITE WHO DOESN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.”  Assignments include “find one bird fact in a textbook and explain why it’s a load of crap” or “go film a Boston pigeon until it does something interesting, I dare you.”
  • Nevertheless, enrollment is so popular that Harvard has a three-year waiting list and charges students an extra $500 just to sign up.  When Tobias finds out about the extra fee, he promptly video-calls the Intrepid, gives Ax remote access to his computer, and explains why he needs Ax to convert the course illegally to a MOOC.  Harvard University fires him for breach of contract; Yale hires him on that very same afternoon.  

part 1 here 

Shipping Preferences Analysis

Ok! So here is the full analysis of the shipping preferences survey. The total number of responses for the survey is 1943, which may not be a representation of the entire fandom, but I think it’s a good start. 

Here’s a link to the graphs and charts showing the results

Favorite ships

So, it seems that Klance is the most popular ship in the fandom. For awhile there, I thought that Sheith would end up being the most popular but Klance ended up being the most popular with a total of 946 people. Sheith came in second with a total of 386. The rest of the results are below:

  • Shallura - 101
  • Other - 74 
  • Shklance - 70
  • Shance - 63
  • Hance - 61
  • Shidge - 47
  • Klunk - 46
  • Kallura - 29
  • Heith - 26
  • Shatt - 26
  • Kidge - 24
  • Plance - 19
  • Hidge - 13
  • Shallureith - 5
  • Shunk - 4
  • Kallurance - 3
  • Allurance - 1

Answers for ‘Other’ included: Multishipping, Platonic, Alforan (Alfor x Coran), Corance (Lance x Coran), Alfor x Zarkon, Hunay (Hunk x Shay), Katt (Keith x Matt), Keitor (Keith x Lotor), Lancelot (Lance x Lotor), Kidgance (Keith x Lance x Pidge), Klancelot (Keith x Lance x Lotor), Klanceman (Keith x Lance x Mothman)(lol), Kuliro (Keith x Shiro x Ulaz)(my new otp like seriously this is genius), Lotor x Allura, Pallura (Pidge x Allura), Pallurance (Pidge x Allura x Lance), Polydin, Shalluratt (Shiro x Allura x Matt), Shayllura (Shay x Allura), Uliro (Ulaz x Shiro), Zaggalfor (Zarkon x Haggar x Alfor), Thulaz (Thace x Ulaz), abd Shiran (Shiro x Coran)

Reasons for shipping

Most of the reasons for shipping included things like ‘good dynamic’ and ‘good chemistry’ and “I love their interactions.” People who shipped Sheith mostly said that they like it because of their pre-established relationship and how much they trust and care for each other in canon. People who shipped Klance mostly said that they liked their dynamic and would like to see them grow together. Other answers included “I want to see them happy together”, “I enjoy friends to lovers stories”, “I enjoy the enemys to friends to lovers trope”, “It has a lot of potential”, “They’re cute together”, “It’s soft, tender, and pure”, “They support eachother”, and “I like hero/villan ships.” Many people shipped multiple ships involving their favorite character because they relate to said character, Others did not have a particular reason why they shipped their OTP. Some of the people who ship OT3′s said it was because they could combine their OTP’s. And a few others shipped their OTPs because of “guilty pleasures.”

Ages of the Paladins

Most people see Shiro as 25, Keith, Lance, and Hunk as 17, and Pidge as 14. Most of the people who headcanon these ages ship Klance or other non-shaladin ships. A vast majority of those who ship shaladin see Keith, Lance, and Hunk as 18 or over, Pidge as around 15-19, and Shiro between 19-23. Only one Shidge shipper headcanoned Pidge as 14 and Shiro as 25. The rest of them headcanoned Shiro and Pidge pretty close in age. 

Feelings on Shaladin

512 of the people who took this survey enjoy Shaladin ships but understand why people may not like it at the same time. Most others (363) don’t ship it because it isn’t their thing but it doesn’t make them uncomfortable. 216 People love Shaladin with the exception of Shidge, because they feel that Pidge is too young for Shiro. 189 People find Shaladin weird and uncomfortable but not pedophilic. 172 People think that anyone who is uncomfortable with Shaladin is just overreacting. 150 People are fine with it as long as it’s properly tagged. Only 34 people who took the survey believe that Shaladin is legitimate pedophilia. Everyone else didn’t have an opinion on it, or they chose “Other,” most of the explanations being along the lines of ‘Ship and let ship.’ 

Uncomforable ships

Many people who ship Klance or other non shaladin ships said they feel uncomfortable with shaladin ships. There were quite a few Sheith shippers who claimed they were uncomfortable with Klance because of the dynamic. Other ships people found uncomfortable were any ships involving the Paladins and Zarkon, Haggar, or Sendek, ships involving Pidge, Lancelot and any Lotor ship in general, Coran x Paladin, Kallura, Kuro ships, and Shallura. All of these answers came from both Shaladin and non-Shaladin shippers. Many others said that they were not bothered by any ships. 

Ships in common

I included the last question because I wanted to see how many ships people had in common and I wasn’t disappointed. Many shippers have common ships in other fandoms! Many Sheith shippers and Klance shippers both ship Destiel, Sterek, Stucky, Vikturri, KageHina, Rupphire, Percebeth, and Zutara. Many Hance shippers and Shklance shippers also shipped Vikturri. There was even a common ship between Klance and Lancelot which was Iwaoi. Both Klance shippers and Shance shippers said they enjoyed Merthur. Sheith shippers and Shance shippers had Amedot, Korrasami, and Spirk in common. Sheith shippers and Heith shippers had Rupphire, Jay/Dick, Lapidot, Finn/Rey, and IvyQuinn in common. Klance shippers and Hance shippers had Iwaoi, KageHina, and Vikturri in common. There were many other results but I found these results to be the most interesting. Also, because there were so many responses I only looked at about 150 of them when it came to this question so there’s probably a lot more ships that people have in common. I’m going to try to figure out how to make some kind of table that I can link to so that people can see all the results. 

So there you have it. The results of the first Shipping survey. All in all, I’d say that we have a very dynamic shipping community that isn’t as black and white as we thought before. Thank you to all who participated! I’ll be posting a new survey sometime this week!

Can It, Sassifer.

Anon: Hey can you do one where the reader is Lucifer’s little sister , the youngest archangel and she and Lucifer are constantly fighting for Sam’s attention , she likes Sam and Lucifer wants to just already use Sam as a vessel .
Anon: Can u write a fanfic about Lucifer’s little sister , she has a crush on Sam and she ain’t afraid to show it , she is very sarcastic and has an enormous amount of sass like her brother , and she and Lucifer are always fighting for Sam’s attention . Can u make it funny

So, I got two anon asks for basically the same thing, so I did them both in the same story. I hope you guys like it! Like always, feel free to message/ask me with critiques and comments!

Summary: You, the archangel sister of Lucifer with a similar attitude, has a crush on Sam Winchester. You decide to visit during the aftermath of the Cage (Season 7)

Warnings: None

Tags: @winchesters-favorite-girl @the-third-winchester-warrior
@fandomspecialist101 @random-superwholock-images @nerdy-free-writes @jensen-jarpad @lil-sister-winchester @daughters-and-winsisters @winchester-sisters-imagines @mysweetcookie99

“Oh, sure,” you mutter for the upteenth time in eternity. “You get all the fun stuff of messing around with Sam’s head and what do I get?”

“Here we go again…” Lucifer rolls his eyes.

You gesture to your surrounding environment with both arms. “The Cage! Full of wonderful attractions galore! And over in this corner we have a giant piece of metal connected to another piece of metal! And in the other corner, more metal, trapping me with the biggest idiot of a brother for all eternity!” Some days weren’t that bad in Hell, but most of the time, you’d go off on sarcastic rants for hours. It wasn’t the worst boredom coping strategy, but it drove your archangel brother insane.

“Would you let it go already?”

“NO! I’m not letting this go! YOU’RE the main reason that we’re stuck here in the first place!! You just had to go and possess the one person who had even a chance of resisting you! Never mind that you had a perfectly good vessel you were already using-”

“Who was burning to death-”

“Who wouldn’t have tossed us in here!”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap. This is just like back at the wack-house.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You wanna go there? Really?”

“I’m not the one who kept trying to get Sam to play spin the bottle.”

You try to keep your face from turning red in your shared prison. “Oh, like you were any better. Streamers and pinatas?”

Lucifer shrugs. “I like donkeys.”

“Not according to the last election, you don’t.”

**************************************************************

You stroll up into the pale mental hospital room to the bedside of your favorite human: Sam Winchester. Sure, you were a pretty pissy archangel like your brother, but something about the Winchester boy made you feel more than indifference towards a vessel.

“Hey, Sam. Wake up,” you whisper. He stirs in his restless sleep a little. You glance around the room. “Lucifer’s on his way. I don’t know how long until he’ll come, but be prepared. There’s some serious crap he’s throwing your way today.”

“And you know this…how?” Sam mumbles tiredly.

You scoff. “Because both of us are in your head, dingbat. Now, do yourself a favor and hide the chair!”

“Chair?”

“Why do I like you?” you mutter not really under your breath. “Yes, you hulking mess of hotness, the chair! Unless you want to deal with-”

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORNINGGGGGGGGG!!!” Your warning is cut off. You bite your tongue and close your eyes as your annoying celestial brother appears from nowhere. Sam covers his head with the bed’s pillow, trying to drown out the brutal singing of the archangel.

“Rise and shine campers! And don’t forget your booties because it’s cold out there!”

“You quote the Bill Murray movie one more time and I swear I’ll-”

“Don’t swear sis, you’re an angel!”

You roll your eyes bitterly before you survey the new level of insanity your brother has reached. “What in the unholy mother of Metatron are you wearing??”

Lucifer is decked out in party hats, streamers, confetti glued to his face, balloons, those weird kazoo-paper-shooty-things that almost never work…it’s like a demented birthday package exploded on his person. He shrugs. “It’s my birthday.”

“No it’s not!”

“Uh,” he scoffs, “it is now. Because I say it is. Isn’t that right, Samantha?”

Sam is doing his best to ignore the new appearance of the world’s most hated figure in history, but he’s failing miserably. It would take a sloth on morphine to not notice the absolute absurdity of your brother. He sighs and rubs his eyes.

“Just…both of you…”

“Not today, smokestack. I need your help right now.” Luci whips out a classic pinata from nowhere. The multi-colored paper rustles gently as he shakes it up and down. “No party’s complete without one of these babies. But, unfortunately, I grudgingly admit I don’t have the height to hang this up from the ceiling. So, you gonna help a brother out or what?”

“We are not brothers.” Sam hardens his gaze at Lucifer. “If you ever call me that again, I will rip you limb from limb and roast your bones.”

You sigh dreamily. You love it when the Winchester boy talks murderously. So…sanguinary. Mmm. Just makes your heart flap around in your chest.

Lucifer shrugs. “So, does that mean if I break it, I get the candy?”

“You’ll be fighting me for it. C’mon.” Yes, you hated your brother, but candy filled pinatas? Million-year old grudges could be put on hold for sugar. You start to climb on top of Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Watch the head.”

“Oh, like I’m damaging precious cargo.” You string up the rainbow donkey. “I got dibs on first whack!”

“Ah, ah, ah. Age before beauty, little sister.”

You whip out a human femur bone from somewhere. “Not if I’ve got the bat.” You point to a disgusted looking Sam with the body part.
“You want up?” Sam closes his eyes and lies on the bed. You shrug. “Your loss then.”

You pull back the femur bone, ready to knock the crap out of the flimsy donkey when-

“Hey!” You protest as a blindfold is placed over your eyes.

“You may be the queen of cheating, but that has no place in the head of Sam Winchester.”

“Can it, Sassifer and let me swing before I think you’re full of candy for me to beat open. Oh wait…”

“Sassifer. I like that.” you hear Lucifer muse. “I’ve been needing a new name. Thanks, Sis. What do you think Sam?”

Sam is silent again. Trying to ignore everything you guess. Sam…my poor, sweet, selfless Sam…

“You know what? We should totally play spin the bottle after this!”

You feel your face heat up as you crack down the femur bone on where Lucifer’s voice came from. The bone shatters in your hands.

“OWWWW!”

You smirk and take the blindfold off your face. “All talk and no brains. It’s like I’m speaking to a walking mouth.”

Lucifer suddenly tackles you and the two of you begin wrestling, glitter flying, balloons popping. Sam looks over at the chaos you two are causing.

“Guys…you’re gonna break something unless you…you know what? Neither of you are real, so never mind.”

“Not real?” you choke out in a strangled voice; Lucifer has an arm around your neck before you flip him onto the floor and break free. You race over to Sam and kiss his cheek, feeling redder than before. “Does that feel ‘not real’ to you?”

“Hey! Paws off my buddy, sis! I still want an untainted vessel someday!”

“Oh, go find a cliff to jump off of.”

“Aw, now you don’t mean that.”

“You know what? If you wanted the best way to kill yourself, jump from your ego and land on your IQ”

Sam snorts in the background; you feel your heart flutter with his approval. Lucifer is stunned speechless. You smile. “Well, as much as I love these conversations, I really should be going. Sam, good luck dealing with this psycho. Save a spin-the-bottle round for me!” You blow a kiss in his general direction and disappear.

Wishful Thinking - Auston Matthews #14

Originally posted by wonthetrade

about/request: a heartbreaking auston matthews imagine about you find out that your crush (auston) knew you like him but he strung you along for his own entertainment

warnings: mentions of anxiety and depression

authors note: i feel like this got deeper than i meant it to but here it is, i hope you liked it. i’m going to try to get a few imagines out today while i have some time and inspiration

word count: 1364

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On Moffat’s Who, Gender, and Bill Potts

I’ve been upset about The Episode That Shall Not Be Named for a few days. I’ve been processing it, and I’ve finally got to a point where I could write it down. So, here goes. *deep breath* I’m going to talk about Doctor Who’s playfulness with gender, and then I’m going to talk about Bill Potts.

First of all, let me preface this by saying: I think it’s great that Doctor Who has been celebrating the spectrum of genders. Female, male, non-binary. I don’t want to diminish that, the attention on non-binary genders. I’m happy that my friends who are non-binary are getting a shout out and some representation.

However, there are a few things that cause me to doubt the sincerity, the intent behind it. In my opinion, It’s being used to distract from something else.

I don’t trust Moffat at all. If you are a Moffat fan, let me humbly request that you either scroll on and go your merry way to read something else, or you can respectfully read and consider what I have to say, but I’m not interested in hearing your defense of Moffat. To me, he’s indefensible. I would request that you kindly keep your arguments to yourself. Please do not come on to my very anti Moffat post with a Moffat defense. It’s tagged “anti Moffat” for a reason. (I said in my blog description that you can blacklist “anti moffat” and you won’t see any sort of post like that from me. I’ve tried to tag the best I can on my blog because I know some people don’t want to see it, but I still have the right to post it, and my opinion not wrong just because you disagree with it.)

Here’s the deal with the Master and the Doctor. Any slash tension between them beyond friendship has been subtext for a long time. And nowhere was it more slashy than with Simm and Tennant. There was something seductive about their tumultuous on-screen partnership (thanks in part to the actors themselves). I don’t ship it, but I can totally see why people do. (I don’t ship it mainly because the Doctor/Master relationship is historically unhealthy. If you ship them, I respect your right to do so. You do you, honeys, and I’ll keep my NOTP in a corner to myself, and let us all get along.)

Then Ten regenerates into Eleven, and Eleven regenerates into Twelve. And now we have a Missy. The Time Lord known as the Master has changed genders.

WOW. HOW NOVELTY. SUCH CLEVER. Pat Moffat on the back, mates, for pulling a huge bait-and-switch.

Suddenly, there’s an all but admittance of feelings from Missy to the Doctor. Didn’t they kiss in one of their first on-screen scenes together? Isn’t that why she turned all the dead people around the world into Cybermen? So the Doctor would have an army? She wanted to show she cared for him, if I remember right, give it to him as a gift. (Which was weird to me to begin with anyway.)

(putting the rest under a read more because this gets long)

Keep reading

Mary is the pearl of the Borgias and a the topic of the deal between Mycroft and Moriarty

First things first: Sorry that this will be soooooo long, I’ll really try to keep it short but I don’t think it will work out :) Secondly: I’m super sorry about my english - I will try to correct it when I find time, but that might take a while. I hope it’s understandable :)

I wrote something about Mycroft knowing where Moriarty (or his body) is and in that I mentioned why Mycroft and Jim could made a deal (see here).

This first occurred to me after I’ve read this lovely meta. It’s about the pearl of the borgias, mentioned in T6T. Now let me connect the pearl of the borgias to the deal between Mycroft and Moriarty.



First: Mary is the black pearl.

I belive Mary is the pearl. Let’s look at some rather interesting points:

  • The pearl was stolen in Georgia; the A.G.R.A. coup was in Georgia
  • The pearl is now in London (according to Interpol); Mary is now in London
  • The mentioning of Greta Bengtsdotter in T6T. It’s the story that Sherlock tells the man with the faded tattoo: His wife is a spy and married him only to get near another man, she planned this for 4 years. Greta is short for Magaretha wich means pearl.
  • Sherlock expected to find the pearl in the Thatcher-Statue; instead he found the memory stick with Marys Past on it.

In my opinion, it’s absolutly not unusual for bady guys to have nicknames (like Barry “the snake” or something), plus “The black pearl” would be some badass nickname :D



So let’s imagine that Mary is the black pearl. 

In 2009 the coup of A.G.R.A. went wrong (though I belive that Mary is in fact the traitor and planned this, but that’s not important right now). She went to England after that, let’s say in 2009 or 2010. She fled from Georgia. The pearl went missing.

In this theory here, I explain why I think that Mycroft made a deal with Moriarty: Mycroft gives Jim something he really wants and for that, Jim should fake his death and stay away from Sherlock. So, what could be so interesting that Jim would do that?

Maybe the black pearl.

Mycroft himself tells Sherlock that Jim had a huge interest in the pearl in last year before his death. He “died” in 2011, so his interest in the pearl began around 2010. 2010 he also met Sherlock by the pool. Remember that he was in fact just about to kill Sherlock, but then he got a phone call that somehow managed to change his mind. Most of the fandom suspects that the person on the phone was Irene Adler, but I always thought that it had to be Mycroft. 

Whoever it is, that person offers Jim something that seems very interesting, like something Jim wants reeeeaaally bad. It even made him change his mind. So what was it?

Maybe Mycroft called and said something like “I have the black pearl.” (like, look at that tweet from Gartiss - He really HAS the black pearl). Remember that later Mycroft acts like he wouldn’t know that Mary was a part of A.G.R.A. though that seems very unlikely? I’d think he would double check Marys backround when finding out that she is going to marry John, because with that she is close to Sherlock. And if he would have done that,he also would found out that Mary Morstan isn’t her real name, like his little brother found out before.

Mycroft indeed has Mary, or maybe just information about where to find “the black pearl”. But he has something.

So he gives the information he has to Jim in exchange for leaving Sherlock alone. That’s 2011. Shortly after that, Jim and Sherlock fake their deaths.



Mary is a double agent. 

So now we have a problem: If Mycroft gave Jim the information about Mary, he wouldn’t let her marry John, would he? Because if he had information about the pearl and gave that to the nemesis of his little brother, he would kept an eye on Mary and the very moment when Mary first approached John, he would intervened. Right?

But that wouldn’t be the case, if Mary would work for Mycroft. In TAB we see her working for him, maybe that’s a clue. But if Mycroft said something like “I will give your Information to Moriarty and you will play along, reporting me everything he does.” When John falls in love with Mary, Mycroft is okay with that because he thinks Mary will protect John (who he knows is very important to Sherlock).


But Jim also has plans for Mary: He got her in exchange for his death. So he knew that he wouldn’t be able to interact with Sherlock for quite some time. 

But he promised to “burn his heart out”, which is quite frankly a very weird way to tell somebody that you will destroy them. But if he sends Mary to John, who is an easy target in that time (broken, mourning the death of his best friend etc.) and get John to fall in love with Mary … Only to let her destroy him - that would be a nice little catch, don’t you think? Maybe he told her: “Go and get John Watson to fall in love with you. Get near him, get near Sherlock. When the time has come, we’ll burn them.”

Sherlock says that Greta Bengtdotter has that plan I’ve mentioned earlier about 4 years: 2016 - 4 = 2012. Supposedly the year Mary and John met.


Mary and John probably meet in 2011/2012. And what’s funny about this is, that when Mary and Sherlock meet in that reatsurant, she pretends to doesn’t recognize Sherlock, although she have to know his face (bear in mind that she first commented on Johns blog in 2013: on the same exact blog he writes stories about the cases and posts photos). She pretends to because she isn’t supposed to. The first time Sherlock really looks at her, amongst other things we see the words “Liar” and “Guardian“. 

Liar because, obivously, she lies. Guardian, because she was a guardian for John in Mycrofts order. 


So, Mary is the black pearl of the Borgias. Mary is a double agent. Mary was the reason Jim didn’t killed Sherlock. But whos side is she on?

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Of course I don’t say I’m right. This is just one of the many many many theories I have in my mind :) But I really like this one, so I figured, I’d write it down to discuss it with others :) I would really love to hear your opinions, feel free to get in touch! 

Tagging those I already tagged in the “Mycroft knows where Jim is” thing:

and the author of that meta I mentioned. @unprincipledaddict @jenna221b @sassmycroft @the-7-percent-solution@elisabethmoriarty@piratelock

I’m sorry for spamming your dash, please let me know if you want me to stop tagging you :D

Body Like a Back Road

Originally posted by theanxiouskid

Summary:  After a night at the bar, you ask Dean a question, and he tells you the difference between bar girls and you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1133

Warnings: None

A/N: I’m backkkkkkkkk. So this idea has been in my head forever, the song “Body like a Back Road”, speaks to my inner Dean girl. Please be gentle, this is the first thing I have written in a while.

Beta: @reigningqueenofwords

Tagging: @ellen-reincarnated1967 @demondean-for-kingofhell @winchesterprincessbride @jotink78 @winchestersnco @iamdeanfknwinchester @skybinx-blog @16wiishes @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @chaoticevilanddowntofuck  @pizzarollpatrol @cliffordevious @14readwritedraw96 @anokhi07 @arryn-nyxx @mrswhozeewhatsis @kittenofdoomage @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @emilywritesaboutdean @ilostmyshoereads @nichelle-my-belle

(tagged some Dean!girls) If you would like added or removed from my tags, please let me know!

Walking into the bar, you saw him right away. He always dominated your thoughts. Dean Winchester, best friend, bad ass hunter, lethal lothario, the definition of sex on bow legs and last but not least, the man you were secretly in love with.

Sighing heavily, you saw that of course the bar skanks were already vying for his attention. Resigning yourself to later listening to the wails from big breasted women started running rampant in your head. ‘Maybe I could get a different hotel without either of the boys asking why? Yeah, right.’  You spied an empty table and headed for it, ready to drown your sorrows. Sam had also found someone already, so now you got to be the awkward fifth wheel once they all joined you at the table, both bar skanks giving you the evil eye when you were introduced.

The waitress came over to get everyone’s order, not surprising to you when Dean’s Mensa candidate for the evening asked for a Shirley Temple. Rolling your eyes, you ordered a beer and three shots, knowing that you would need them. You snickered when even Dean looked at Honey or Cherry- ‘Honestly, who names their kids that?’ in stunned silence at her drink choice. Once the drinks were delivered, you wasted no time in throwing back the shots rapidly, and signaling the waitress for three more.

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