i'm like two years behind on this but i'm finally doing it

Hogwarts Headcannons
  • Give me Dean, muggleborn that he is, imitating Steve Irwin in Care of Magical Creatures class, much to everyone's confusion except for Harry and Hermione who are. On the ground. Unable to breathe. And refusing to explain why.
  • Give me Harry, demisexual that he is, realizing that the reason he can't stop obsessing over Draco is because Draco is the one who saw - and subsequently disliked - 'Harry', and not The Boy Who Lived. Realizing that Draco was the only one to first talk to him for HIM, in that robe shop, and not his parents or fame (because even Ron and Hermione did that at first). And thus, leading to him randomly starting crying in the middle of lunch and claiming he's doomed, much to everyone's fear.
  • Give me Seamus, pyro that he is, super happy one Christmas when Hermione buys him a book on fire caution, flammable materials, and elements such as magnesium. Thus afterward, the mysterious fires that have always happened are far more safe and controlled.
  • Give me Luna, wonderful airhead that she is, being stared at as, calm as anything, she waltzes right into the Slytherin common room and starts talking to the mermaids like its absolutely normal. A first year drops a book he's staring so hard, because HOW DID SHE KNOW THE PASSWORD. Draco just sighs, gets up, goes over to her, and offers her tea.
  • Give me Draco. Who looks on as Neville offers Harry rhubarb pie that he made himself, as Harry stares forlornly at his Treacle Tart, and makes and annoyed sound. "Dammit Longbottom he hates bittersweets." The Slytherins stare and Pansy just mutters "How do you even know these things. Merlin, help him realize."
  • Give me Parvati, who is being constantly mistaken for her sister by Ron, who panics and screams "IM A LESBIAN" when it gets to be too much.
  • Give me Ron, who stares wide-eyed from a distance whenever he sees Padma from that moment on for a full week, until Padma flips out too and hexes him. Parvati awkwardly wonders why Ron starts getting scared whenever she tries to approach from then on, since she knows Ron doesn't have problems due to that sort of thing from how he handles Harry.
  • Give me the thirty or so of the school's Muggle-raised, who made the mistake of showing their folks howlers, and react accordingly whenever one of the families sends one that is just a recording of Rick Astley, or High School Musical, or spoilers for Doctor Who. And the Wizard-raised just... staring... in fear... watching their savior and multiple other students as they run around screaming and crying in an absolute panic for some reason even though it was a different student that got the weird howler.
  • Give me Harry, whose hair surprises people by being dark red like his mother's when in direct sunlight. And usually at the Weasley den they're inside, but one day Harry joins them outside for a picnic, and Molly is so confused about where Harry went to then has do do a mental tally of her children.
  • Give me George, who in the midst of the final battle, hit Lucius with an Anaticula curse, so that every spell he tries makes a duck instead. And the Death Eaters are just so confused. "Lucius... is that a duck?"
  • Give me the Gryffindor common room. The new first years suggest Monopoly for game night. The entire room goes dead silent. One first year tries to ask what they did wrong. "Never mention that game again," is the only response they get. "But why-" "NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR." Their brave upperclassman Neville yells, trembling. Hermione starts crying. Harry goes into a panic attack. Ron whispers, "There are many reasons we don't talk about sixth year. If The Incident had been the only thing that happened, we would only not talk about The Incident. Many things happened that year. Thus, we do not speak of that year, or of that game."
  • Give me McGonagall, who struggles to control the cat population, because while students are told to have their cats fixed you know not all 100 students that brought cats did so. Her curling up around a litter that lost their mother to illness. Training them to stalk the corridors. Albus had his ways of getting information, and hers is the spy network of cats.
  • Give me muggleborns singing everything from Phantom of the Opera to Katy Perry in the corridors. Singing We Will Rock You to a pureblood who disses them for it. The purebloods thinking the weird songs and their tunes are some kind of Rite of Passage and fleeing whenever a muggleborn student starts singing. Altering song lyrics. "I throw my ferret in the air some-times, singin EEEEEEEYO, this is DRAAAAAACO!"
  • Give me muggleborns that are really confused about the whole quill instead of pens things, throwing transfigured pokeballs in Care of Magical Creatures, the band students bringing kazoos and harmonicas and the wizard-raised students that are just so confused as to how those things even work, because it must be some sort of air magic, right??
  • Give me muggleborns making entire conversations out of pop culture references specifically to confuse some Slytherin who just called one girl a Mudblood. "These are not the droids you were looking for." "I'm right on top of that now Rose, I promise." -jazz hands-
  • Give me muggleborns with Patronus that are things like Pikachu, velociraptors, the quiet Canadian transfer student with a moose patronus the size of a SMALL HOUSE, the one whose is a angeled-out Castiel, the one whose patronus is the democrat donkey and another the republican elephant and the two, previously best friends, become mortal enemies rivaling the fame of Harry and Draco.
  • Give me muggleborns hugging each other before break, promising to 'call' each other, trading weird codes, how they can't wait to go for 'sushi' or planning that trip together to 'disneyland' where they can go flying?? But no one's allowed magic?? Or flying?? And the wizard-raised think that somehow, shockingly, these children totally new to our world have developed a way to cheat the system??
  • Give me muggleborns who are fully aware that the anti-tech wards were made when, like, radios barely even existed, much less cellphone towers and microprocessors, so while they can't turn them on inside the stone school walls there's this group that Harry joins constantly that just sit there in silence staring at these tiny things and sometimes randomly laughing hysterically, and every now and then standing and just running all the way across to the other side of the lake all at the same time with no signal whatsoever. The purebloods are terrified of this frequent happening.
  • Give me Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Justin from the D.A, muggleborns they are, doing a movie night every week to help the D.A. relax and bond. They re-start this after the battles, during eighth year, with several other people such as the returned Slytherins joining in. The entire year they play things like Tangled, The Breakfast Club, Brave, Lion King. But then the last four weeks, they announce they don't want to mislead everyone that everything is all fun and rainbows. The last four movies are My Sister's Keeper, The Shining, Marley and Me, and for the last week, a marathon of the entire Jurassic Park series.
  • Give me Hufflepuffs, who secretly are very relieved to be the 'normal' House. Jocks over there, know-it-alls over there, goth wannabees over there, now lets go camp out by the kitchens we're gonna need it to survive the next seven years like this.
  • Give me Ravenclaws who are so done with the riddles when they stumble back at midnight after having fallen asleep in the Library. "What's the truth?" "THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN."
  • Give me the Trio, who use the Marauder's Map to find the most absolutely ridiculous routes to class, knowing every single one of the shortcuts. It's not odd for them to simply appear out of the ceiling. One day the new first years try to follow them, to learn the school better, but it doesn't go so well because then they try to go through a disappearing wall the Trio just did they instead run headfirst into it, and the next time they do behind a tapestry, down a waterside, around some sort of tower, causally past an entire doorless room full of bats, and somehow come out on the complete other side of the castle.
  • Give me Draco whose just completely had it with Harry's staring and confronts him, like they always do, and Harry just blurts out that he likes Draco's new haircut and can he touch his hair, and Draco so shocked he lets him. "Potter stop treating me like a cat I'm evil remember? Bloody hell have you gone daft?!" "But... it's soft..." "I hate you." But he just can't find any anger over this, so there's like no venom whatsoever in it and Harry can't stop giggling.
  • Give me Ginny, who can't stop giggling as Luna confuses the fuck out of an entire crowd with her way of speaking, and who during seventh year could 100% get away with insulting the Death Eaters because of the way she said things. Who after Luna used said tactic to get her out of a Crucio punishment just clung to Luna, shaking, and realizing that she loves Luna so much for this very reason. That there will never be another person like Luna in her life, ever.
  • Give me Harry, who was not really well educated while living at the Dursleys, who couldn't read very well but was wonderful at sneaking around, little tricks like hiding things, and loved music. He taught himself magic tricks, and MERLIN ALMIGHTY THIS 11 YEAR OLD KID HAS MASTERED VANISHING SPELLS, WHAT, HOW, and Percy, uptight prefect he is, just looses it.
  • Give me Ron walking in on Harry talking to some random snake in their dorm room, laughing like the snake said a particularly good joke, tipping his head and smiling as he responds, the python slowly curling up his arm to rest over his shoulder. Ron freezes, stares, and then slowly backs away, closes the door and stands there staring at it for a full half hour in absolute horror.
  • Give me the rest of the D.A. walking into the Room of Requirement and hearing screaming, Dean shrieking that he's going to murder someone, Hermione crying, Justin cursing like a sailor yelling for everyone to stop, and the rest panic and run around the corner and there the four Muggle-raised students are. With some sort of odd device in their hands. Playing Mario Kart.

Gendry doesn’t take his eyes off the walls of Winterfell, from the moment he sees the towers rise above the horizon.

If Jon notices how Gendry fixates on it, how Gendry goes quiet at the sight of it, he says nothing. Silence suits both of them, and the rest of their party prattles enough, as it is.

Until Tormund says something about ‘the big lady,’ and conversation shifts, to loves the men have left behind. (For what it’s worth, Gendry gathers that whoever this lady is that Tormund speaks of, she does not in fact reciprocate any feelings. For what it’s worth, Gendry couldn’t say he had loved Arya in that way. For what it’s worth, the next hour ahead of him looms as blank and cold as the Wall, and for the first time in several years, he feels unsure about what he wants.)

“What about you, Gendry?” someone says.

Now they all turn to him, Jon, on his left, and Thoros, on his right, staring at him with different kinds of curiosity. Jon doesn’t know; Gendry had been unable to say anything about Arya because if he said even just one thing, he’d have to say it all.

How can he tell the Northern King that he’d refused his sister’s request to serve a brother years ago, when he’d ended up fighting at Jon’s side after all? That he’d been her only friend, and he’d abandoned her?

Gendry shrugs, noncommittally, but Thoros’ gaze burns into him.

Arya is at Winterfell, Gendry knows this.

Jon is going to find out, sooner or later.

What will Arya do when she sees him?

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Burnouts, Booze, and Babes

Originally posted by butaer

Summary: Taehyung and Jeongguk are just two small town best friends, getting drunk too often and making big plans they’ll probably never achieve. Taehyung takes it upon himself to teach Jeongguk all of the proper ways to have sex, and Jeongguk swears he’s just hanging around because Taehyung’s good in bed. Who would have thought these small town losers, who used to smoke behind the school, would become jewelers at the biggest department store in Seoul. [Pre Givenchy & Gold]
Pairing: Jeongguk x Taehyung
Word Count: 32.850
Rating: M
Warnings: too much sex, too many kinks, mentions of drug use, Taehyung calling Jeongguk so many nasty things, two bros chilling 5ft apart in a hot tub (“swear I’m not gay”), switching, uhhhh daddy kink
A/N: @blueagust and I have basically spent the last couple weeks screaming at each other about Taehyung and Jeongguk’s history from her story Givenchy&Gold, and with the little restraint I have, this happened. Lou, this is an absolute mess and I probably destroyed your entire fic timeline, but happy early Kwanza or some shit (which is totally an excuse Tae gives when he’s buying Jeon another pair of earrings.) This is not good enough for you but I hope you like it anyway!!

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The Price of Gold

(a fantasy Percabeth royal!au) 

When Annabeth, desperate to help her family, is caught stealing from the imperial treasury by visiting Prince Perseus, she thinks her life is over. But after the guilty prince helps her escape, she soon becomes entangled in a complicated web of mystery, rebellion, and (worst of all) romance. One thing is for sure: her life will never be the same again.

This is only Chapter 1! This will be a multi-chapter. It’s my first attempt at a fantasy or a royal au, so I’m not sure it will be any good…but i hope you like it!

(read it on ff.net)

Snow swirled serenely in the cold air, slowly fluttering down to kiss the white blanket already formed on the courtyard floor.

It almost doesn’t look real, Annabeth thought. It certainly didn’t feel real, because not even in her wildest dreams did she actually think she would have ended up attempting to steal from the imperial treasury. Is it even an attempt if I have the gold in my cloak?

She pulled her hood tighter over her head and continued to walk along the narrow terrace that lined the courtyard. Annabeth could see the large gates up ahead, where she would be able to climb over the fences and run for it. Piper wouldn’t be able to flirt with the guard for much longer; she didn’t have much time left.

Her heart was pounding as she focused ahead of her. The biting, frosty air had been a blessing; most of the guards were inside, and the few outside were more focused on building a fire than investigating any cloaked figures who might be roaming the castle. If Annabeth did get caught, she would simply claim to be part of the visiting Prince’s company. She had timed her heist perfectly.

Suddenly she heard voices from inside the walls. She froze, blood curdling, and desperately looked around. Annabeth had never wished she was a mage more than she did in this moment, wishing she could disappear.

She decided to run for it. She barrelled forward…just in time to collide head on with the man who emerged into the courtyard at that moment.

They both went sprawling backwards. Annabeth hit the stone slabs hard, hissing in pain as her fingers dragged along the cold ice. Too late, she realised the bag had fallen out of her cloak. Gold coins skittered along the icy floor.

The man in front of her quickly got back to his feet, helped by an assistant, two guards behind him. His eyes, a deep sea-green colour, raked over the gold coins on the ground. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I’m part of the foreign Prince’s company,” she said determinedly. “I’m with Prince Perseus. If you’ll excuse me—“

The man stepped forward, and two guards behind him placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. Too late, Annabeth wondered why he had two guards. She realised her mistake.

“I don’t know you,” the man said softly, before glancing at the coins once more. He looked back. “Guards, arrest this woman. She shall come with me before the King.”

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@arabian-batboy said: Can you write something where Bruce comes across Jason in an alley after his resurrection but before Talia took him in & since he couldn’t talk at that time (& because he’s supposed to be dead) Bruce thinks it’s just a hallucination and just leaves him?

It had been a long time since Bruce was afraid of ghosts, mostly because they never left him alone. If this one seemed more real than usual, hey, it had been a rough day.

Always was, this time of year. 

April 27th. Bruce liked to think he was getting better— maybe some year he wouldn’t find himself lurking in Crime Alley on today, the anniversary of Jason’s death— but he wasn’t there yet.

It made sense. How was he supposed to forget Jason? That was what it would take, Bruce knew, to leave the guilt behind. Every time Jason crossed his mind, it all came crashing back: the grief and shame and pain in his chest. 

Flashbacks, sometimes. Hallucinations.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to see his dead son lying on the cobblestones. It was bound to happen today. 

Bruce took a deep breath. It was time for another hell ride through his own subconsciousness. What would it be this time?

Older, he thought— this Jason looked older, the age he would be if he had lived. That was normal; Bruce spent a lot of time imagining Jason alive and growing up. This Jason looked like he had been on the street for a long time, and Bruce could explain that too; they’d met on this spot when Jason was young and homeless. Of course he was remembering that day. 

Bruce blinked away the image of Jason, small and defiant, sprinting towards the mouth of the alley with his tire iron. Who hit the Batman with a tire iron? Jason did. Jason was…

Well, Jason was dead. Jason had been extraordinary— brave, bright, explosive, kind— but he was gone, and the illusion on the pavement was just that: an illusion. A memory. Bruce’s mind playing tricks.

The punishment he deserved. He could feel it beginning like it always did, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his fingertips, his chest, rooting him to the stone underneath him until he couldn’t run— not that he should run. He hadn’t saved Jason. The least he could do was feel it.

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I wrote this directly after I left my first Harry Styles concert. My emotions were more elevated, and now that I’ve had some time to sit and reflect, I feel a little less raw. Keep that in mind.

I definitely got carried away, just needed to type it out, I guess. It seems a bit mad, and I’m slightly hesitant to post, but maybe someone else can resonate and understand.

Music does fucking weird things to you, man.

Warning: it’s pretty aggressive in terms of “I miss this fucking boyband so much, I cry about it,” but you all know.

It’s not just a boyband.

You get it.

I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th.

Several people have asked me for an update.

First disclaimer: this is less of a concert play-by-play and more of a word vomit. About One Direction. About Harry. About the hiatus, the crazy shit it’s made me feel over the past two years, the future. All a bunch of nonsense - or maybe not - thoughts.

Honesty hour ensues.

Let me preface this by saying I’m grateful. So beyond grateful for all my experiences. I won’t take advantage of that. I never have. Never will.

One Direction holds an interesting pull over millions of people. Me included. I fell in love with them on a whim - it wasn’t intentional. I don’t understand it. I can’t make sense of it. I can’t explain to others why I’m so invested. But at this point, I don’t bother with an explanation. I love to love them.

“One Direction is broken up. You still listen to them?” The amount of times I’ve heard this. I’m homesick for people who don’t know I exist. Moderately crazy, but shows the extent of the soul this band put into their music and performances and relationships with each other. And us. I feel tied to it.

Is any other fandom like this? I don’t know. Nor will I ever know.

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve had a very difficult time with the whole “solo” endeavor. One Direction is the biggest and most important part of my early 20’s, and for it to stop so abruptly and without any closure has taken an embarrassing toll on me. My best friend and I have become sickeningly close during our travels - we’ve experienced seven shows together, one of which was out the country - and to me, One Direction concerts became a place to make some of our deepest memories that no one else can replicate, or understand. I met friends - my Rita - through this band. I met you guys. It’s been two years of wondering and waiting if and when they would make a return into our lives, and then. Instead. We got solo Harry. Full force.

I understand the point of the break. I get it. Overworked. Shit management. I’ve exhausted the topic in my own mind, and with others. Doesn’t mean I’m jumping for joy over it. I’m a 1d stan at heart; I support them as individuals, but when it comes down to it, my loyalties lie with the band.

I’ll be candid and real, which I’m often not on this blog. I initially jumped on the “1d went on hiatus because of Harry” bandwagon. My original logic: he said he was the one who initiated it. He was the one who had solid plans. Louis said he fought it. Niall said he wasn’t ready for it. And after closely paying attention to hundreds of interviews since 2015, Harry has clearly showed his gratitude toward the band - don’t get me wrong - but he’s the only one who hasn’t talked about a return date. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to give false hope. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know and doesn’t want anyone to read too much into his words. Maybe he’s moved on. Whatever the case, I shied away from his career at the beginning and couldn’t get excited like everyone else seemed to be. It hurt my heart to see him so happy and thriving away from the pieces that helped him with his start, his life. Honestly, I know I would have felt hesitant about whoever happened to go fully solo first (Zayn doesn’t count - that’s a very different situation). Sure, Niall and Louis had singles out last year, but it’s not the same as embracing a new album, a new identity. It just so happened to be Harry first.

Second disclaimer: I hate that the band isn’t together, but I could never hate any direct member for that. Ever. No one is specifically responsible. And I know that.

My vision is clouded. Selfishly, I didn’t want Harry (or any of them, really) to fall out of love with the past because I wasn’t ready to fall out of love with it. It’s brought me so much joy and love and laughter and experiences. It feels like I’m begging please don’t move on without me. I’ve found a major piece of myself because of this band, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I now feel a little lost. Being 25 is weird enough in itself, in terms of career and relationships and generally just being, and now take away the part that gave me stability and my independence, and I’m just. Wandering. Waiting for something to happen to make me feel as happy as One Direction did.

Reading that back sounds ridiculous. But I’m not the only one here.

I know what this looks like, what it sounds like. I know how skewed my perspective is. I’m doing my best to fix it.

I have Harry’s album memorized. I love a few songs, like a few, dislike a few. I guess that goes for every album. His style has changed from what we’re used to, as has some of his lyrics, but the quirkiness is still the same. The heart is still there. I knew it would be.

I was overwhelmed walking into the show. It’s been over two years since I’ve seen a member of 1d on stage in front of me. I had high expectations - expectations for his performance, expectations about how I wanted to feel once it was over. The venue was beautiful. It was the perfect place to listen to this album live for the first time. Echoey and full of charm and personality. Crystals. Velvet couches in the box seating area. Marbles floors and winding staircases. Pink hues across the stage. Simple, effective lighting. Harry. All Harry. No more crowds by the thousands, no more booming music, no more larger than life stage. Somehow, I felt more anxious.

He did not disappoint. But then again, I didn’t expect him to. For the past three years, he’s always done the best job at captivating my attention whilst performing. Nothing has changed in that sense.

It felt like the final nail in the coffin for 1d, kind of. My friend’s words. It’s too hard to imagine him doing this and then going back to a place where he doesn’t get to 100% put his whole self into what he’s doing, and has to share and compromise on ideas. I understand that. It would be counterproductive to work backwards. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would definitely feel less organic.

Not just for Harry. For all of them.

Doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith, though.

“It’s been two years since we’ve last seen each other,” he said, “and in those two years, I missed you so much.”

I cried from the moment I sat down until I got back to my hotel room.

I like to be overwhelmed by music. But not like this.

I think part of it is because this was only the fourth night of his tour. It’s still brand new. I’m still not well acquainted with it. New territory, uncharted. I sound so ugly for being so conflicted about solo endeavors, especially when I know there were people who won’t get the chance to see him and I did. I’m grateful, I promise. I’m working meticulously to sort my brain from my heart.

I’m seeing Niall in a few weeks. God help me if I feel this royally fucked over from him, too.

Harry has not left behind his roots. That much was clear. I don’t think I was ever really worried about that part, because he’s pure and kind and appreciates everything in his life for what it is. He would never speak an ill word about 1d. Ever. I don’t think he has any ill words. I sobbed when he performed WMYB. I loathe that song. It felt like a small piece of home, anyway, him using their start as a part of his start. He looked gorgeous. He sounded like a dream. He doesn’t have as much room to prance, but he made do. No catwalk, no problem. I missed his voice. His speaking voice, preaching to the crowds about love and bravery. His terrible jokes. His gratitude. Christ, it felt so good to have him in front of me again.

Kiwi was exceptional. The crowd went off. SOTT was overbearing in a beautiful way. Hearing everyone scream “woman!” all at once was a Goddamn experience. The room was deafening for the entire show.

It wasn’t the same. I didn’t expect it to be, but I wanted it to be.

My friend kept saying, “One Direction is so dead and I couldn’t care less.” I care. I hate the division amongst the fans, amongst the media. “Pick a team.” I don’t want to. Right now, my friend loves Harry more than One Direction as a whole, so she doesn’t understand. I’m not going to try to make her. The crowd chanted “Harry” during the encore, and my heart hurt in the strangest way. I told Rita about it. “Ugh. Just Harry.” I knew she’d understand. She almost always does.

I love Harry Styles. With my entire heart. He was happy on that stage. Even while I stood in the back with my face in my hands, I could see that. I’m happy he’s happy. I love nothing more than a happy Harry. The world is a better place when he’s smiling.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel unsettled.

It’s out of my control. Accept the good that comes along with changes. Something I’m learning. Something I’m sure all five original members of One Direction are also learning.

I’m seeing him again on Saturday, in Boston. I’m hoping the initial shock will be mostly worn off and now that I know what solo 1d feels like, I’ll feel more ready for it. More ready for his sequined suit, his smile, his note changes, his band that isn’t the one we’re all used to, the harmonies that bleed together as if it was fate, the lack of three other boys who I miss terribly.

Maybe he misses them as much as I do.

I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th. He was stunning. He moved me to tears. He ran with a rainbow flag, made us scream about pizza, looked beautiful in the neon pink lights. It wasn’t One Direction. It wasn’t better. It wasn’t worse. It was just different. And that’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Embrace being different. It’s what Harry does, after all.

I’m profound in the art of making five days worth of clothing fit into one carry on bag. I can memorize new albums in 48 hours if I have the right determination. I’m able to meticulously plan trips to new cities and venues like it’s nobody’s business. I’ve yet to master the ability, however, of separating love and music.

But I guess those are technically the same thing, anyway.

Thank you for a beautiful show, Styles. Thank you for allowing us into your life, for staying true. I’ve missed you, as a whole, as an individual. I’ll see you on Saturday.

Stay tuned for a second update this weekend. I’m sure it will be much different. I’ll be sure to post some photos, as there will “mainly be prancing.” And what a shame it would be to miss that.

xx Shelly

This Thing Called Love (I Just Can't Handle It)

Summary: Clarke Griffin’s ill-timed discovery of her feelings for her roommate, Bellamy Blake, leads to a misunderstanding that confuses the both of them.

for awards winner @bispaceprincess

Word Count: 2320

Warnings: Slight Language


“Here’s the deal,” Clarke said, collapsing onto Bellamy’s bed as he shuffled around getting ready for the day. “Tonight is a good night to stay in and be lazy. So I’m thinking you and me, Chinese takeout, and a Netflix documentary of your choice.”

Bellamy looked over at her as he shrugged on his jacket.

“That’s tempting,” he said with a small smile. “But I can’t tonight.”

Clarke’s own smile faded and she sat up.

“You busy?” she asked.

He nodded as she tried to remember if he’d told her something about tonight. He never worked on Thursday nights, a byproduct of working at his station so long that he was consistently able to request them off.

“I’ll be late so don’t wait up, okay?” Bellamy said.

“Yeah sure,” Clarke nodded, unable to keep from frowning.

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Institute Business with Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane

When Alec awoke it was to the sensation of having a dream within a dream. It seemed like that was how it was every morning that he woke up to the soft satin of Magnus’ sheets draped lightly over his body, Magnus’ solid form curled into his own. He would wake up from a dream, a beautiful dream, the kind colored with hues of gold and cream, with the sounds of the ocean and memories of laughter from his younger years. He would wake from a dream so beautiful it seemed impossible to top, and then he’d wake up, and somehow he’d become conscious to a world even more beautiful than the one his mind had conjured up for him.

At first, he assumed he’d awoken only because his mind had run out of beautiful pictures to show him, but he soon realized it was Magnus’ stirring that had pulled him from his dreamland.

Without opening his eyes, Alec mumbled, “good morning, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus pushed further up in bed. “I’m sorry, Alexander, I didn’t mean to wake you”

“No,” Alec tried to dictate despite his face still being half-shoved into the tan-gold pillow cases of Magnus’ luxurious bed, “Don’t be. I’m glad to just,” he breathed in the honey-rich scent that followed Magnus like a trail of pixie dust, “lay here. With you.”

Magnus rested his hand on the side of Alec’s face that wasn’t enveloped in a pillow, stroking his thumb lightly across Alec’s cheekbone. “And so would I, darling shadowhunter, but I have warlock business to attend to and-”

“No,” Alec said again, eyes still shut, almost defiantly, as if he were rebelling against leaving the bed. He changed his grip on Magnus, so that instead of his arm resting lazily across the warlock’s bare chest, he used both of his arms to grip him like a vice. “No moving. Just… Just lying.”


Alec raised one thick eyebrow (or maybe he raised two, Magnus couldn’t tell with Alec’s face shoved into the pillow), “Magnus…”

Magnus smiled, but began to try to break through Alec’s grip, “If you would kindly… just… remove… your.. VERY strong arms… from around my waist… I could just..” Each word was punctuated by a flex of his upper body to try to release Alec’s grip on him, “breakthrough…” Finally, Magnus escaped Alec’s body-lock by simply inching downward until he had slipped out the bottom of Alec’s encirclement. “Then I could get to work.”

Magnus was reaching for his robe when Alec finally opened his eyes and leaned across the bed to grab Magnus’ hand. “Might I remind you, Mr. Bane, that as the Head of the New York institute, I can arrest you for not heeding the words of a high-ranking official?”

Magnus smirked, his competitive side getting the best of him as he intertwined his fingers with Alec’s and climbed over to him with his knees on the bed, “and might I remind you, Mr. Lightwood, that as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, I could kick your pretty butt?”

Alec looked up at Magnus, who was towering over him now that he was kneeling on the bed and Alec was lying down. He shifted his position so as to look Magnus in both his shimmering yellow eyes. “Oh please, Mr. Bane, show me what it is you intend to do.”

“Well,” said Magnus, one knee now on either side of Alec’s hips, a pair of Alec’s sweatpants hanging loosely from his own strong legs, “first, I could hit you with a spell, right here.” He ghosted a hand over Alec’s exposed stomach, “and the magic would spread, all through here,” he used both hands now to trail a path from Alec’s stomach to his hipbones.

“And then what?” Alec asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, still able to put a teasing tone behind his words, despite his level of distraction.

“And then, shadowhunter, I would knock you off your feet, literally of course, and pin you down, so that you were underneath me, as you are now.”

Alec closed his eyes for a second, feeling the crackle of electricity Magnus now had running through the air, whether from magic or wanting Alec couldn’t really tell. “And after…?”

“Next, I would tie you down, and then remove myself from you like so…” Magnus swung his leg back over Alec’s body so that he was no longer straddling him. “And then…” Magnus trailed, placing a firm hand on Alec’s chest, trailing a finger through the hair there, “I would runawayandgettowork!” He said the last part as quickly as possible so as to not give the dreamy Alec time to react as he hopped off of the bed and almost ran to his office, grabbing the book he needed on the way in.

Alec sat in shock for a moment, letting his eyes flutter open to the sight of the empty room, the hook Magnus’ robe usually sat on now vibrating from the force with which the robe was removed from it. “He didn’t,” Alec whispered to himself, or maybe to the robe hanger, he wasn’t sure. “You didn’t!” he called to the apartment, and to Magnus in the other room. “You sneaky little…” Just then, a call came in on his phone, whom the caller ID identified as Jace. Alec picked it up and held it to his ear.

“Hey Jace, can you give me just one second? I have to attend to something. Institute business, you know.” He set the phone down on the table as Jace was saying his “yeah yeah of course,” and Alec stalked from the room, yelling as he went.

“Magnus! You can’t get past me! If this is because you thought you heard me snoring again, I’ve told you a MILLION times I don’t snore!”

Jace smiled down at his phone, the folder in his hand forgotten. “Institute business.” Of course.

anonymous asked:

I'm sorry to bother you but can you maybe recommend a few sasunarusasu fics? I'm feel like I've read every fanfic out there and I'm desperate for something new. Thanks!

Okay, let’s do this~! (Long post ahead, also primarily SasuNaru as that’s what I read the most >_>)

10 SureFire Ways To Get Uzumaki Naruto Into Bed by Benq

View Sasuke’s 10 ways to get Naruto into bed.

Warnings: Language, Cracky, One-shot

(Cracky little fic that in the end, tells you that the best way is to ask for consent :D)

100 Roses by Flika

Naruto gets roses for Valentines Day.

Warnings: SasuNaru, mega fluff, one-shot

(Just a really sweet fic tbh)

A Banquet of Blood and Pleasure by VioletWylde

Normal, healthy relationships have problems like arguing over who did the dishes last. Normal, healthy relationships are lived in the light of day. Normal, healthy relationships are boring. Our relationship is neither normal nor healthy. It isn’t perfect. But I couldn’t live without it… in fact I would willingly die for it

Warnings: Vampire!Sasuke, Blood tw, Language, Lemons

(In case you wanted something bloody? “>_>)

A Bundle of Promises by Infinite Vibrance

It all started when Naruto opened his locker one day and found a dangling rose, and with that rose… came a promise.

Warnings: Highschool AU, Complete

(A sweet fic where SNS gets together. Also a side fic is available known as A Small Box)

A Fox And A Hound by darkalbino

Not even nature’s rivalry can come between affection, as orphaned fox Naruto and hunting dog Sasuke are about to discover…

Warnings: Fox&Hound!AU, Language, Some dark/mature themes

(I love SNS!Disney fics like a lot okay)

A Penny for Your Fortune by abskjg

Sasuke unwillingly visits a ‘fortune teller’ who describes his soul-mate to him.

Warnings: SasuNaru, one-shot

(Once again, mostly fluff)

A Thousand Generations by Fifi McFu

Sentenced to a thousand rebirths, Sasuke isn’t enjoying the life of a mortal one bit. That is, until he changes school and lays eyes on a remnant from the Old Times who doesn’t seem to remember him.

Warnings: AU, One-shot

(Highly recommended! Actually anything by this author is highly recommended including:

Fireflies, Dirrty, Hunt or Be Hunted, Rivalry, Here be Maerfolk, Piercings, Uniform)

All the Small Things by michelerene

Life in the ER is hectic. Lives hang in the balance, tempers rise and emotions abound. Dr. Uchiha and Dr. Uzumaki deal with the tensions at work every day. And then they go home and deal with their own relationship.

Warnings: Hospital AU, Dramatic at times

(Ppl have their controversies about this author’s work, from The Divine Glitch to The Demilitarized Zone. My first fic from them was For the Love of His Son which still remains one of my fav SN fics on top of one of my first. However, this is the fic that holds its place as my favorite fic from this author. *Note, all the fics mentioned are my recommended ones tho For the Love of His Son has mpreg*)

Beyond War by Om0cha

The Fourth Shinobi War has ceased but the world continues to search for Naruto Uzumaki. The one entrusted to keep him hidden from both sides can only wait for a day that never seems to come, for the day when he can finally remind him, breathe.

Warnings: Takes place in War Arc then fast forwards 10 years, AU, Dramatic as fuck, Incomplete

(If there was anyway to prolong the Naruto manga/war arc and make it enjoyable, Om0cha found it. Seriously, all my favorite lines from any fanfic come from this fic alone. So, yes highly recommended as well as in my top 3 SN fanfic.)

Blanket Love by Hakai-sama

Sasuke is jealous of Naruto’s baby blanket-but there’s more reason behind it than Sasuke sees.

Warnings: Blood tw

(I don’t have enough angst on this list.)

Bound by the Ring: Remake by acommonname

Uchiha Sasuke is a young Sales and Marketing Director in Hokage Corporations. Nominated by “Chakra Magazine” as the most eligible bachelor in their last issue. Sasuke was constantly met with aggressive husband-hunting women and occasional men day in and day out until he decided to wear a fake wedding ring on his finger to keep them at a distance. Everything was great until-

Warnings: Real World AU, Language, Liar Reveal Plot in some ways

(I immensely enjoy this fic as well as the old version)

Cell Phone Trouble by ladywolfTerri

Sasuke gets a cell phone and so much more.

Warnings: NaruSasu I believe?

(Silly oneshot that’s more for humor than anything else)

Censor by Om0cha

Writing a kinky movie script with Naruto as the kink is indisputably easier when Sasuke isn’t there.

Warnings: Crack and it’s lovely, Based off of Naruto Shippuden: Blood Prison, One-shot.

(Drinking Game: How many kinks can you spot in this fic let alone the movie itself?)

Christmas Morning by LuvversLuvvie

Sasuke made sure Naruto would have the best Christmas in his life.

Warnings: All of the fluff

(Christmas fluff because why the hell not)

Cloud Cover by SecretSky

Naruto’s led a tough life, but with a fresh start at a new school, his natural optimism kicks in. Unfortunately, things are about to get far worse. Pulled into a world of drugs, abuse and crime, he must find a way to make it out alive or die trying. “Remember, Uzumaki,” he said to the mirror, “Your real life is with your friends. This…this is just a nightmare.”

Warnings: Drug Abuse tw, Sexual Abuse tw, Gun tw, Violence tw, Organization tw, Abuse in general tw, Naruto goes through some shit, Sasuke goes through shit, Complete, Highschool AU.

(Very highly recommended. I consider this fic to be more in detail about drugs/the effects than the Rommates Trilogy so watch out for that. This story focuses more on friendship rather than SN, but the sequel, Red Storm, is supposed to make up for that.)

Cohabitation by fool.0

Sasuke starts calling Naruto “The Misses” behind his back two months after moving in with him. It was, in retrospect, akin to ritual suicide.

Warnings: SasuNaru, AUish, Language, Naruto screams most of his dialogue


Crossing The Distance by Dana-Eliza

Naruto is addicted to the internet with the focus on Fanfiction. Here he finds an author with amazingly written works and after the first review was sent, their relationship blossoms. But will it survive when Naruto finds out Sasuke lives in another country?

Warnings: Real World AU, SNS, Dutch!Sasuke, Complete, Very long

(I think I stopped reading in the mid 20s because issues, but the story is still enjoyable)

Anything by TanukiRaccoon including:

What Happens In Tanzaku CityGotta Be SomebodyBlank CanvasHallelujahThe ABC’S Of LoveSix Bowls  (ESPECIALLY SIX BOWLS)

Anything by gweatherwax (FFN) *just a warning, near everything under her name has a lemon and she likes to experiment with strange shit). Including:

It’s all about the uke anywayThe EndEvil, Ugly Little Uchiha - A Sad Fairy TaleThe tale of the gutsy ninjasThere’s always room for Sasuke’s sausageHeatstroke

Good Morning by just-another-generic-emo-kid

Sasuke is sleepy and Naruto is definitely not.

Warnings: Fluff, One-Shot

(Fluff much?)

Hold Me Back by reign of tears

One last hurt.

Warnings: All of the angst. Also, Sai v Sasuke, Language.

(Hi fanfic that left me emotionally numb for several days and holds its place in my top five SNS fics).

How by theallpowerfullme

Sasuke obsessing over Naruto’s ass.

Warnings: Language, Kind of lemon

(Best oneshot ever, 10/10)

Hurt, Cope, Heal by can’t.save.this.sinking.ship

Sasuke’s a successful lawyer whose lover Naruto has just been through a trauma. Naruto is taking his time working through it, but Sasuke would prefer he just get over it. Together they must learn to deal with the past before it becomes their future.

Warnings: Dramatic, KakaIru, ShinoKiba 

(I find the chapters after 17 to be a bit more hastily written but I still recommend this in my top 20 SNS fanfics)

In Good Company by fool.0

This will sound a little ridiculous, no matter how Sasuke phrases it. “I see dead people” is embarrassingly tacky, and “I’m half-spirit” seems like something Sakura might say when she’s stoned sky high. So he settles for a shrug.

Warnings: Language, Sasuke’s POV, the story is not entirely on FFN

(It’s one of those ‘what if so and so character can see dead people and what if those people were the four Hokages?” kind of fics. The so and so person just happens to be Sasuke, of course.)

Life Swap by xLoveless19

Naruto’s marriage with Sai is deteriorating and he doesn’t know how to fix it, not to mention they’re in some serious debt. However a new reality TV show is looking for couples that are willing to swap lives with another couple. Naruto decides to enter to try winning the prize and save his marriage. But he might get more than what the original prize has to offer.

Warnings: SasuSaku (it’s not really prominent in the sense that they interact ‘romantically’) SaiNaruSai (same thing as the other), Language, Incomplete, Can be considered Sakura Bashing, and essentially a Wife Swap AU

(Highly recommended as well as top 20 SNS fanfics)

Liquid Passion by darkalbino

Stabbed and nearly drowning to your death at the bottom of a demon’s lake? It’s not even the last place you’d expect to find love.

Warnings: One-shot, Language, Voreish??? (Sasuke eats Naruto’s flesh, but Naruto isn’t ‘harmed’ by it as much as he gets turned on I suppose >_>)

(Cute and fluffy while having some drama here and there.)

Medium by Talilea

Naruto has had the ability since he was a little child. He can see things that are to come. But when a simple handshake throws into a world of violence who will protect him?

Warnings: Slight non-con, Violence, Gore, SasuNaru, Language, Incomplete, AU

(Some parts of it is drawling with explanation/exposition, but I like the concept very much)

The PR by LuvversLuvvie

Sasuke Uchiha is the youngest CEO of the widely popular and successful Uchiha Corp, and did someone say major hottie? Every newspaper, magazine, talk show, and news program wants an interview with the man who’s got it all, but you have to go through his PR if you want even a chance.

Warnings: Language, Sakura Bashing

(Cute, fluffy, dramatic, and in my top five SNS fanfics)

Ego Trip:

Hit and Run, In The Rain, Half Moon

I’ve been working on this for at least four hours and now I’m really tired and I want to add more (at least 30 more fics), but like I said, I’m tired. xD I hope these work for you, anon!

Writing Romance (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You and Lin spend the day book shopping. You get mistaken for a couple. Casual flirting in between.

Word Count: 669 (ha)

Warnings: Lots of flirting, a direct Alexander Hamilton quote, a non-existent book, a few cheesy Hamilton references, another cheesy twitter ending. Nothing honestly, I’m a fluff writer through and through.

A/N: A short ficlet that falls in line with the other fic I wrote, Halfway, but that one doesn’t have to be read for this one to make sense. I would’ve written something longer but I’m in the midst of battling a few ideas that r e f u s e to cooperate.

“Love, look what I found.” you chirped, sinking to the floor at the back of the bookstore to sit across from Lin. You leaned back against the bookcase behind you as you fished out the book. You held up A Complete Collection of Alexander Hamilton’s Work with a grin before you feathered through it and started to read aloud. 

“I have told you, and I told you truly that I love you too much. You engross my thoughts too entirely to allow me to think of anything else. You not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream - and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetnesses.” you paused and your eyes flicked up to look at an unusually quiet Lin. “What?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

reader x scoups ; thigh riding

Slow Down

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 882

Summary: Riding Seungcheol’s thigh. That is all.

(A/N): THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR LIKE TEN YEARS I’M SORRY I hope you enjoy it tho!!! I rage wrote this bc I’m stressed af about finals so (Oh also this has some light daddy kink in it so like if you’re really not into that I suggest skipping this one)

Originally posted by imbangnzelo

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i'm in love with your writing it actually gives me life lmao but i was wondering if you could do a RFA+V+Saeran where they're in the zombie apocalypse?? if you don't want to that's perfectly fine, but i'm also obsessed with the walking dead and i think it'd be pretty cool-thank uu !! ~~


This is an interesting one! Thanks for the requests, guys!

~If you wanted an actual scenario, you can inbox me. Specify one of the MM characters (doing them all would be too much) and I’ll get to it when I can.^^

◉ Yoosung

  • He was a strong warrior in LOLOL
  • Now it was time for him to be strong in real life!
  • Actually like super violent??
  • When it comes to protecting you
  • His weapon is a Long sword 
  • He feels like a real medieval warrior when he’s protecting you, slashing through the enemy
  • Gets this crazed look in his eyes if you’re in danger
  • He does change, he’s no longer this soft boi anymore
  • He was finally a manly man
  • Kind of made you sad that the Yoosung you knew was long gone, but damn he was keeping you alive so…

◉ Jumin

  • He has a ginormous, extremely secure underground bunker.
  • There’s seeds to grow for years and years and a grow room
  • Solar power w/backup generators
  • Literally everything and anything you could need to survive this
  • Comfortably
  • You were shocked like
  • When tf did he have this built????
  • He would be extra clingy with you
  • Yes, it’s possible.
  • Does not want you out of his sight, EVER
  • He’s happy as long as you’re down there with him
  • Couldn’t care less about what happens to anyone else

◉ Zen

  • The only thing he cares about is protecting you
  • You guys go around on his motorcycle
  • It’s a lot easier to maneuver than a car and faster, too
  • He has two guns
  • But also carries a mace for melee
  • Bullets don’t last forever
  • You guys just ride around constantly moving
  • siphoning gas when you need to and trying to find food
  • He was lost for a while
  • His life revolved around his looks and now he couldn’t rely on that
  • He’s just grateful he has street smarts instead of book smarts, and that’s helped keep you guys alive

◉ Jaehee

  • This girl
  • She doesn’t need a weapon
  • Her body is her weapon
  • All she needs are her fists and legs
  • Super bad ass
  • But she doesn’t like blood or violence
  • Jaehee is still the same as ever
  • Very cunning/wise and level-headed
  • You both mostly just sneak around, hiding out and avoiding confrontation
  • But if she needs to, she can easily take them down to protect you
  • She’s the best at finding food and places to stay out of danger
  • You guys will do just fine

◉ Saeyoung

  • He’s gone insane
  • Cried when he had to leave his favorite baby car behind
  • He couldn’t drive it past the sea of abandoned cars
  • His fav weapon is a flame thrower
  • Yep
  • A fucking flame thrower
  • He wears it on his back like a Ghost Buster of death™ and just melts the zombie scum with ease
  • He can MacGyver a bomb out of random finds wherever you guys are
  • You guys live together in this old house out in the middle of nowhere
  • He’s rigged death traps EVERYWHERE so the chances of anything getting close are slim to none
  • You have a sniper rifle on the top floor and you’ve gotten pretty good at aiming
  • You guys are a pretty awesome duo
  • you got this

◉ V

  • Hate to say this but…
  • You guys are dead. T_T
  • V is too kind hearted and that paired with his sight is just a losing combo
  •  You’d probably make it for a while
  • And he’d end up sacrificing himself for you
    • “I’ll always love you! I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger…Run!”
  • He’d yell while getting ripped apart
  • Leaving you all on your own
  • You’d survive for a while because it’s easy to be quiet and sneak around when you’re alone
  • But it’s also easier to slip up and eventually you would

◉ Saeran

  • He is thriving more than anyone
  • Legit enjoys this
  • Has a baseball bat with nails in it and he smashes skulls with that sucker and laughs
  • Won’t let you in danger, ever
  • Always makes you stay at a safe distance and gets angry if you try and help him
  • You guys just roam the streets during the day and he takes them out one by one
  • So bad ass that eventually people start to follow him
  • He thinks it’s annoying but he gave up trying to stop them
  • His only focus is keeping you safe and he makes that known
  • If any of them ever get in danger he just keeps walking
  • Survival of the fittest and he’s not about to risk his neck for anyone but you


“It’s almost gone.” Zayn studied the bruise on my face.

The elevator pinged as we reached our floor and slumped out, shoving Zayn’s hand away from my face. Thankfully, they’d fixed the lift pretty quickly. Less walking was always good for me.

“Either way, I’m not going out tonight.” I groaned.

“Why?” He whined. “It’s a Wednesday night! You’re not in til one tomorrow. It makes sense that we go out and get really drunk.”

“I look like shit because the side of my face is fucking yellow, and I bet you’ve already invited Harry out, haven’t you?”

I turned around as I unlocked the door to the flat, seeing the predicted guilty look cross his innocent little face. I shook my head as we wandered down to the kitchen, tossing my bag outside my bedroom door.

Keep reading

A promise once broken

There is a bit of dark Doctor here. Sorry. Really bad in every sense but forgive me. This is simply something i made up as i went along.

You had been travelling with the Doctor for a long time now, and cared very deeply for him. He seemed to be an amazing man. Even through all of the pain and horror of the war and even things before that and after. Losing all of his friends, one by one. You had promised him and yourself you would never leave him. He had gone through so much and sometimes all someone like him needed was a friend. You were of course devastated by Donna’s leaving, but you were more than willing to put your own problems aside for the Doctor, something you were sure few had ever done.

Recently though you couldn’t help but notice him seem to change. You had seen what Martha’s leaving did to him, but this was different. It didn’t feel like simply grieving to you. He just didn’t seem himself. And that was meant in the worst way possible. You had known he had a dark side, of course he did, he fought a war, but you had never expected it to ever see the light of day. Then, of course, there didn’t seem to be any light since Donna had left. Not for the two of you at least.

You watched him with wide eyes as he turned to make his way back to the base.

“Doctor?” You called uncertainly. He didn’t respond. You moved quickly to catch up to him and keep up all the way back. You should have known the two of you should’ve left earlier. This didn’t look good. Your fears were being confirmed as he seemed to ignore you back to the base and started barking out orders to everyone inside. You watched from the side, noticing with a frown that he gave everyone a job to do but left you out. You resigned yourself to watching him as he worked, trying desperately to collect your thoughts on what was going on with him and, not the least of which, how to help him. How to save your mad man from himself.

When Adelaide brought up the future and what had to happen, you had thought it might get through to him. One glance at his expression told you otherwise.

“Yes, because there are laws, the laws of time. Once upon a time there were people in charge of those laws, but they died. They all died. Do you know who that leaves? Me!”

You flinched as his voice became louder, finding yourself backing further into the corner where you stood, suddenly for the first time afraid of the man who had vowed to protect you.

“It’s taken me all these years to realize the laws of time are mine and they will obey me!”


The base shuddered and it took you a moment to realize it was you who had spoken.

“No, Doctor it doesn’t work that way. Why do you think those laws existed in the first place if they weren’t important. Laws do not obey, Doctor, no matter how hard you try, people do! That is how it’s supposed to work!”

“How would you know?!” He screamed suddenly. You knew you would’ve flinched and most certainly have fallen silent at that had you not been already too far gone. Like him. “You have no idea, (Y/N)! You’re just a human! Simple as that! You’re understanding doesn’t even reach far enough to know what you’re talking about right now! You’re simply someone i made the mistake to think could tag along!”

You felt anger boil under your skin at his words but decided with what little good judgement you were using to forget the personal stabs he was taking.

“I may not know the laws Doctor, but i know the universe has been just fine with someone around to follow them! I know you’ve been there to save the universe from countless others who said the same thing you’re saying right now! The laws are in your hands Doctor, but not for you to throw them away! How can you not see what you’re doing right now? How can you not understand you have to stop!”

“I don’t have to” His voice suddenly seemed calm, his anger reigned in below the surface. This, you knew, was when he was his most dangerous. You had never dreaming it would be directed at you. “I don’t have to do anything you say (Y/N). I never did. Because in this universe, I am everything”

The Doctor seemed to have had enough and stepped forward suddenly, standing inches from you so you had to look up to see him properly. His old and usually soft and loving eyes burned with something much different. Anger, no, rage, stared back at you in it’s purest form through his eyes. You suddenly found he was terrifying but you weren’t going to go that far just to back down now. You simply stared up at him defiantly, preparing yourself for whatever you could imagine him saying next. 

But you could never have expected what was to come.

“And you are nothing”

His words were barely a whisper but the impact of them spoken so close made them louder than anything you’d ever heard in your life. Everything seemed to stop, even as he turned his back on you and left to return to what he was doing. The exact thing you were warning him about. You felt tears sting your eyes as you stumbled back into the wall behind you. You ignored the brief worried glances of the few others in the base as they hurried about, following the Doctor’s orders.

You are nothing

The second you stepped foot in the TARDIS you had stumbled your way to your room, even as you were being flown out of an explosion. You knew what you had to do. If that’s what the Doctor really thought of you, he shouldn’t really care if you left. If anything, it should provide the kind of wake up call you had always depended on Donna to give him before. You quickly threw some of the things you had brought with you into a bag and looked around your room sadly.

You were going to miss this place, and you were going to miss him. But that was the problem. You weren’t leaving him, not really. He was already gone.

You left the rest behind, taking your small bag with you as you headed right for the console room. You sat on the jump seat, waiting for the Doctor to return to tell him to take you home. He walked in eventually and by that time you were sitting with your hands in your lap, your bag beside you and your eyes focused on your shoes. You saw him from the corner of your eye move to the console silently. He stopped and you waited another moment before speaking, taking notice of the fact that he obviously hadn’t looked at you.

“Take me home”

You saw his head move quickly as he fixed his eyes on you, but you kept yours firmly down.

“What…” It was barely a whisper.

“I said, take me home” You looked up then. “I mean, you don’t mind do you? After all, I’m nothing” He looked so different from before, the sadness and almost horror in his gaze threatened to make you stay. It looked like him again.

“(Y/N)…” His tone was soft, pleading even.

“No” You stopped him. “Take me home Doctor, i can’t do this” You returned to staring at your shoes and he said nothing for a moment.

“You said you’d never leave me”

His voice was barely a whisper but it echoes around the all but empty TARDIS, soon to be emptier.

“So did you” You retorted, somehow finding the strength to look him in the eyes. “But you have, Doctor. This isn’t you. You’ve changed. The Doctor i knew is gone. The Doctor I made my promise to, wanted to travel with for the rest of my life, is not here. And I’ve made a different decision for this one” You weren’t sure how you managed to get that much out without breaking down, but you weren’t about to crack now. “So, please, take me home”

The Doctor gave a solemn nod, moving slowly around the console as he piloted the TARDIS back to your time. He said nothing when you landed, tucking his hands in his pockets and staring at the base of the console. You sat there a moment before standing, still finding the whole situation too surreal. You looked up at him one last time.

“I thought i finally had you figured out” You said quietly. He didn’t react. “I never wanted to do this. But the Doctor who saved my life that quiet night in Cardiff isn’t the same man i saw today” You took a deep breath before continuing, the words you’d wanted to say for so long coming out so wrong in this situation. “The Doctor i love is gone” He looked up at you then, mouth open slightly and his eyes full of hundreds of years of sadness and tears.

You knew if you waited any longer you could cave and decide to stay, which was just about the worst thing to ever happen in this circumstance. Or so you reasoned.

Without another word you turned to the TARDIS doors and left them for the last time. You closed your eyes as you heard the door creak shut behind you. Composing yourself best you could, you walked away and into your dark and empty apartment, a single bag in hand. You heard the TARDIS dematerialize minutes later as you sat under the window in your still dark living room. Silent tears were running down your face as you sat there. But you didn’t care about what he had said to you, or even much so about leaving.

You cared that you had promised to save him. And you had failed.

P.S There will be a part two, if significantly smaller, at least, i think. I can never stop writing once i start, short stories never worked out well for me. Anyway, i am so sorry for this. Still no idea what it really is.

P.P.S The second part is very much fluffier and has a happy sort of ending

P.P.P.S still sorry

anonymous asked:

angst? I'll give you angst, scenario where Keith's female s/o jumps in front of him to protect him from an attack and she ends up dying, but with a sad smile, kind of like that anime sao where asuna jumped in front of kirito to protect him? Ah if you don't know what I'm referencing to you can search this up on youtube to see what I'm trying to say😅

crying I know exactly what you’re talking about ahdjskskskskks. But yes here you go. Enjoy because I couldn’t due to my tears blocking my vision

Terror and panic filled your body down to your very core. You could feel your armor rubbing against itself as you took large leaps, dodging blasts and swipes of guns and blades. You tried so hard, your breath becoming more and more heavier as you tried to keep up with everything going on around you. But you turned.

There was Keith, choking out a Galra on the ground as he shouted with rage. His double-edged sword feet away from him. His face became red from the work he was exerting on himself and transferring to the neck of the soldier below him. His hands turned white. But he wasn’t looking, he wasn’t looking when a soldier stood behind him by just a meter or two. But you?

You were.

You shouted, louder than you believe you’ve ever shouted before. Your throat ached but that didn’t matter. He did. He always did and he always will and that’s exactly how it will be until the day you die.

“Keith!” You had never gotten to your feet as fast as you did, your all white armor contrasted greatly against the orange blood-stained ground as you ran toward them. He turned, face fading from red to pink to its normal color. His dark eyes stared at you in confusion, watching you come closer, but you weren’t looking at him. You bored your eyes into the horrific being behind him.

His head turned, watching as you grabbed the forearms of the Galran, the blade cutting up and through your stomach. Keith’s eye grew wide, watching as your stomach became marred by the barbaric blade. His feeling in that moment was the same as the soldier he just murdered. His mouth opened but nothing came out, he was still on his knees over the once alive soldier he was choking to death moments before.

His body turned, the end of the armor on his shin catching onto the armored knee of the soldier caused him to stumble. But he still caught you. He always did. His arms reached out and he caught you in his arms, staring at your face and the blood leaking onto the ground. He took a large breath in, then out. He began to breathe heavily, a panic attack taking over him as he didn’t know what he could do. He couldn’t take out the blade, you’d die faster and that’s the oppositeof what he wanted.

Pidge saw this. They were meters away, when they heard your shout. Meters away when they saw the blade go in your armor and out the other side. They screamed in agony, and anger, sprinting toward the soldier. Their feet kicked off the ground, bouncing them to the shoulders of the murderer before them, and they wrapped their grappling hook around its neck.

Keith didn’t see this, he was too busy watching you slip away from him slowly. Tears began forming in his eyes, tears forged by regret, sadness, and anger. Your back was supported by Keith’s arm, and you looked at the blade that cracked your armor, cracked your skin. You immediately looked to Keith, and smiled.

“Y-Y/n? I, I don’t understan-, I, w-why? Whyd you do this to me? Why?” His tone was soft, but his voice was not. It was rough, and cracking like he’s never spoken before this moment. He looked at all the features of your face after taking your helmet off. Tears fell from your eyes, passing through your hair, and over your ears. You still smiled, and still looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, Keith.” You couldn’t feel anything anymore, your sense of touch had gone numb. But your feelings had not, neither did Keith’s. Keith could still feel, mentally and physically. So you tried to do what you thought was lifting your hand to his face. From birth to death, you’ll always be caring.

As soon as your hand touched his skin he began to sob. Snot leaking from his nose onto his pale lips. Tears falling onto your armored chest.

“No. No. No. No no no no no. Please do-don’t go. I don’t, I don’t want you to go.” He cried. “Please.” The cracking of his voice told you that he had broke, finally, after all these years he came out of his shell. In the worst way possible.

“I love you, Keith. Keith I love you. Don’t, don’t forge-”

Dying to some is like falling asleep. You lay there, as your heart slows and you don’t feel a thing, your chest stops moving and you’re gone. But to you? Oh no, that’s not how it was.

The way you felt during your death was the equivalent to an animal shedding its skin, an animal that isn’t meant to shed its skin. The effort and work put into it made your death harder and painful than Keith would’ve wanted. You were stiff and could barely move without whimpering.

He gazed down at you as his tears landed onto your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. He wiped them away and watched as your smile went with them.

“No.” He choked out.

The muscles in your body relaxed, the natural stance and grip of your hand disappeared and went dead-weight. Keith still held it against his wet cheek. He cried more, and more, and leaned down into you, hugging you close to him and rocking back and forth. His skin felt hot, and his threat was slowly swelling up. He felt as though he had swallowed sand paper.

The feeling he had in his heart, was ravaging. His chest hurt and so did everything else. He loved you. He loves you.

“I love, I love you so, so much. I’m sorry.”

The two of you were brought to the safety of the castle-ship. Pidge filled with depression, as she stood away from the two of you, scared, upset.

“I’m sorry.” He said as he handed you off, walking to his room only to stay there. He loved you. He loves you. And he was afraid to lose you. And he lost you.

anonymous asked:

Your book looks fun, but do you worry sometimes that it looks like a YA paranormal romance, which might be outdated? Like maybe I just haven't read enough about it yet, I'm sorry if this comes across as mean, I'm genuinely curious. Thanks for all the fic your write!

Okay so my goal when writing Not So Shore was to take all the tropes I loved from the done-to-death ‘mortals meet’ genre of fanfic (the fun of the reader having information the point of view character doesn’t, dropping subtle references to the canon characters’ powers and experiences, having everyone be in awe of how cool the canon characters are) and write them without any of the horrible negative tropes that always seem to feature in those fics (over the top jealousy, slut shaming, unnecessary violence, no subtlety anywhere to be seen). I had so much fun writing it, and the response from all of you suggests you had fun reading it, too.

And I’m basically trying to do a very similar thing with my novel. I grew up riding the wave of popular Paranormal YA. I was there for the publication of Twilight and the thousands of series inspired by it. I’ve read most of them, because as a child I adored the stories of people like me visiting magical lands (Alice in Wonderland, HP, PJO, Narnia, LotR [in which the people like me are the hobbits lol], etc.) so it seemed a natural extension that as I entered my teen years I would follow this genre to its teenage equivalent.

It was supposed to be like the fantasy I loved reading, but darker and more mature, with slightly more graphic violence and more adult risks and consequences. But in its hormone ridden angst, Paranormal YA/Urban Fantasy lost a lot of the things that made me fall in love with fantasy in the first place.

  • Gone was the focus on proving yourself worthy by doing good deeds and helping others; Instead you had to be snarky and “not like other girls” and worry more about your love interest than the fate of the world.
  • Instead of quests completed by fire-forged friends, the only relationships developed (and I use that word loosely, in some cases) over the course of the books were the romantic ones. Friends were always pushed aside, no one ever understood the protagonist, but the protagonist never tried to get anyone to understand, because they were dark and moody and needed to do things on their own -
  • Except, oh, no, they can’t do it on their own, because they’re a girl, and so they’re just going to sort of dither about before their big, strong male love interest comes along to save the day with physical violence. The protagonists rarely had the power, even when they were ‘the chosen one’ or when they should have had the opportunity to grow over the course of the novel. Or if they did have power, it was often so poorly developed that it just read like a massive deus-ex-machina invented purely for the finale.
  • Their male love interests were rude to the point of abusive, had no sense of appropriate personal boundaries, and treated the protagonists as idiots who had to be talked down to at every opportunity, rather than people who were discovering entirely new worlds and were entitled to ask some questions.
  • Protagonists no longer had strong morals; instead they flipped back and forth between choices (often between two love interests, hurting both in the process) and were reactive to circumstances changing around them, rather than forces for change.
  • Dialogue was no longer inspiring, something to repeat to myself on dark days, to remind myself that there was always some good worth fighting for. Instead, everything was one of two extremes: It had to be sassy and referential, or it had to be so pretentious and faux-philosophical that no teenager alive would ever dare utter it for fear of eternal ridicule.

(This is not so say, of course, that the fantasy books I had enjoyed as a child did not have their own faults. They were overwhelmingly cast with straight, white men, or straight, white women who weren’t anywhere near as well developed. Any other diversity was hard to find, and women as romantic interests were often treated as props or rewards. Trouble was, these problematic aspects carried over into Paranormal YA/Urban Fantasy without bringing most of the good stuff with them.)

Obviously not every single Paranormal YA/Urban Fantasy was as disastrous as I am describing them here. But enough were for it to become a well known fact among the industry and readers that Paranormal YA was formulaic to the point where if you had read one you’d read fifty. I still loved the concept of the genre, obviously, or I wouldn’t have kept reading it, but the execution was letting me down.

So in my novel I’m taking the things I love about it - the mystery, the magic, the overlap of our world with something so entirely new and different hovering just beyond our perception, characters and things from that new world crossing over to ours, the dark overtones and the threat of real danger and violence - and I’m adding all the things I adored from fantasy back in, and putting the emphasis on female friendship.

YA has taken great leaps forward in terms of representation of marginalised groups, less problematic love interests, and more unique plotting, all of which is so amazing and absolutely fantastic to read. But I still find close, supportive, realistic female friendships lacking, and as most of the books I read are written by women I always find this preference to have their female protagonists always hanging out with guys puzzling. So although there is a romance between my female protagonist and a male character, it’s tertiary, behind the plot and the core group of female friends that drive it forward. I’ve tried to write each of the girls as unique individuals rather than stereotypes, as characters with their own goals and personalities and no tokenism, and I hope that their friendship reads as strongly and sincerely to you as it does to me.

I’m hoping that this distinction, the focus on characters and the relatively less-popular type of mythology I’ve decided to write about will be enough to convince a publisher to give me a chance. (The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater is the series that comes closest to what I’m trying to achieve in terms of tone and themes with my novel, which also gives me hope that there’s still a market for it. Although obviously I am nowhere near as skilled a writer as Maggie, and I can only aspire to one day be anywhere near her level.)

So, to finally come to the end of this extremely long winded answer to your relatively straight-forward question: This novel is like my love letter to everything I enjoyed about growing up reading Paranormal YA and Urban Fantasy, but with modern day priorities and diversity included, and all the shit bits thrown out (hopefully).

And Suddenly I See You ~ Svance

Next stop on Pebble’s Svance train: Pure Fluff place.
Please have mouthwash to hand, this is tooth-rotting.
(Also I cannot write kisses I’m so sorry)
Apologies for bad formatting, I’ll get on it as soon as I can!


Thanks to life experiences, Lance could claim to be a lot of things. For example, he was easily the best dancer of the Voltron Force, and could eat any spice level that was given to him and thought of jalapeños as a light snack. He was excellent at dealing with kids, and could name most of the countries of the world alphabetically.

But dealing with the cold?
Now that was impossible.

Turns out that Norwegian tundras are incredibly cold, and bundling up in at least three of Sven’s thick winter coats can’t keep out said cold out. He was finding it hard to walk, even the few meters through the thick snow back to the Land Rover.
Sven was somehow walking beside him like nothing was wrong, chattering happily about the blizzards they sometimes get whilst somehow wearing a shirt and a single fleece-lined jacket, as oppose to the layers of insulating plastic that Lance was busy shivering under.
“Sven,” Lance cut him off, breathing heavily, “how do you even cope here?”
“I grew up here, didn’t it?” Sven replied with a chuckle, earning a pout from the paladin next to him. “You learn to deal with it, like how you can deal with your world’s Cuban heatwaves.”
“They’re not heatwaves,” Lance shot back, “just warmer temperatures.”
“Yes, and this is just light snowfall.”
The snow, as if on cue, began to fall heavier, fat flakes drifting and sticking in the wool of Lance’s beanie cap. Around their feet, the mounds of snow they were already trudging through were quietly building up; he could feel snow melt on his socks and in his shoes, and judging by Sven’s sudden grimace, he could as well.
Another gust of wind blew over the white plains, and Sven’s breath curled in front of his face in a smokey cloud.

Lance wasn’t going to admit he was looking at the flush of his cheeks as the wind changed direction, or the way the grey light from the sky lit up his cheekbones in a very particular manner.

“We should be getting back,” Sven eventually mused, hopefully not noticing Lance’s sigh of relief, “if the snow builds up much more, we might not be able to drive back.”
“So what if we’re stuck in the car, all night?” Lance asked coyly.
“Then we’d run out of petrol for the heating by about midnight and freeze until the morning or someone manages to rescue us,” Sven replied, smirking at the fall of Lance’s face, “all in good time, Sharpshooter, don’t rush it.”
“This better be a quiznaking nice cabin you booked,” Lance grumbled, the snow squelching under his boots.
Pulling some car keys out of a trouser pocket, Sven clicked his tongue and ran the small distance remaining to the car. “You can be the first judge.”

Lance’s grumbling continued until the duo were safely in the car, forcing Sven to crank the heating up until it hit one that Lance considered a more sensible temperature and Sven considered way too hot, but wasn’t going to debate.
“So where were all the elks or whatever then?” Lance asked, pressing his nose against the window in an attempt to see through the increasing snowfall.
“You’ll see them tomorrow, don’t worry,” Sven said with a patient smile, “I have a friend who runs a nature reserve, there’s lots of elks to observe there.”
Lance turned round suddenly. “You have a friend who owns an entire nature reserve? How many pies do you have your fingers in?”
“I’m a well-known space explorer here, I can call in a lot of favours,” Sven responded, “like how this cabin isn’t technically on the market, but I knew the owners, so…”
He trailed off, laughing slightly at Lance’s awed face. “What’s this cabin like, then?”
“You’ll see.”
Lance pouted and leant back in the chair, folding his arms. “You keep saying that.”
“And you need to learn to wait for things,” Sven snarked, “you’re very impatient for a member of a team who actively takes out Galrans using endurance hunting.”
Lance narrowed his eyes. “And you’re, uh…” he trailed off, Sven humming playfully at Lance’s inability to create a comeback, “you’re annoying!”
“Whatever you say, my love, whatever you say.”
Lance huffed, turning back to the window. “The snow’s easing off now,” he said absentmindedly, as the windscreen wipers slowed down to a much more regular rate.
“Just in time, we’re almost there.”


“God, Sven, this place is amazing!”

The cabin was, without a doubt, the most luxurious place Lance had ever been in. The living room was the length of the cabin itself, all oak panels and floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a lovely view of the snow-doused plains and forests, and was furnished with plush sofas, minimalist wall hangings, and the biggest fireplace Lance had ever seen in his life. The kitchen was compact but high-tech, and was stocked with all kinds of interesting looking food that he hoped Sven knew what he was doing with, and down the hallway was the bedroom, containing a heavenly looking bed.
There was only one bedroom.
Lance’s heart may or may not have skipped a beat.

“That good, eh?” Sven confirmed, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a pair of faux antlers near the doorway.
Lance hummed an affirmative, collapsing on the sofa nearest the window and lazily undoing the zips to his many coats. “Can I just stay here forever?”
“Well, if your definition of forever is seven days, then by all means, yes.”
“You know what I mean,” he replied, poking his tongue out to the other man, who laughed and pulled his coats out from underneath him.
“How does hot cocoa sound to you?” Sven called once Lance’s coats were hung up.
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Then get up off your arse and help me then.”
A beat.
“On second thoughts I can survive without.”
“Alright, I’m coming!” He replied with a laugh, pushing himself off the sofa, “but if you’re one of these weird people who eats the powder straight out the tub, I’m teaching myself to drive and going back to the ship.”
Once he was in the kitchen, Sven shot him a smile and tossed him a block of chocolate. “Who said we were using powder?”
“Marry me.”

The cocoa was eventually made, but only after Lance decided to try and eat half of it, sneaking cubes away when he thought Sven wasn’t looking.
“Hey, Lance, look at me?”
“What’s up-”
That was when he felt Sven’s lips softly crash onto his, squeaking in surprise before melting into the kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as Sven tilted his head, pushing into it, and-
Sven pulled away, smirking widely.
“So it was you that was stealing the chocolate,” he said, turning back to the pot of hot milk on the stove, “don’t try to evade your guilt.”
“That’s-” he stalled, still somewhat comprehending what happened, “that’s cheating!”
“You would have denied it if I asked,” Sven sing-songed back, finally tipping the hot liquid into two mugs, “I’ll go set the fire up, come in when you’re ready.”

The hot cocoa really was good, and Lance plonked himself next to Sven on the sofa in front of a roaring fire. “Dude, this is incredible,”
“You like it?” He asked, stretching an arm around Lance’s shoulders, who in turn took that as an invite to snuggle into his side and rest his head on Sven’s shoulders.
“I love it.”
“That’s good.” He took a long sip of the cocoa and pressed a kiss into the top of Lance’s head. “I was worried I had gone a little, uh, over the top.”
Lance looked up at him, confused. “How?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if it was all a bit-” he gestured to the rooms decor- “too much.”
“Sven, babe.” Lance put a hand on his cheek, and moved his head so he was looking at the smaller paladin. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be right now.”
“And your team-”
“Can survive without me for a week.”
Sven hummed in reply, reaching down to press a proper, tender kiss into Lance’s lips. He tasted like the cocoa, all sweet and milky, and Lance gently pushed back into it, sliding his mouth open to deepen it. Their heads tilted slightly, and Sven placed his mug on the table sloppily to place his now free hand on Lance’s jaw.
“I’m sorry,” Sven eventually said, pulling back with a pant, “I should control myself.”
Lance gave a breathless laugh. “Babe, I honestly couldn’t care. That-” he stopped to catch his breath- “that was great.”
Sven hummed again, leaning in for another quick kiss before sneaking a sip of the now lukewarm cocoa. “Are you hungry?”
“For you? All the time, babe,” flirted Lance, snapping his fingers into a gun-shape and pressing it into Sven’s cheek.
“For food, Casanova.”
“Oh yeah, sure.”


Sven certainly knew what he was doing with the food.
Lance had wandered into the kitchen after getting his breath back to see his standing over a large pot of something that smelled fantastic, and Sven was beckoning him over to help.
“Cutlery is in the first drawer on the left, and plates are up here,” he instructed, pointing to a cabinet by his head without ever taking his eyes off the pot.
Throwing an arm around his waist, Lance leaned in to look into the pot. “This smells amazing.”
Sven sent him a genuine smile, reciprocating the hug around his shoulders. “It’s my mother’s recipe, I hope you enjoy it.”
“Compared to the food goo I’ve been living on for the past year or so, it’s gonna’ be the best thing ever.”

It really was. Lance decided that, if he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, it would be that. The lamb practically fell off the bone, and the cabbage was sweet, rather than the slightly slimy variant that his dad used to try and make. To top it off, he’d never seen Sven look quite so genuinely pleased as he did when Lance tried to groan his appreciation around a mouthful of food.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he later murmured into Lance’s hair as he passed behind to put some washed plates back away, “I was worried it wasn’t going to be up to your tastes.”
Stifling a laugh, Lance spun on the ball of his foot and wrapped his arms around Sven’s neck, grinning up at him. “Dude, you literally could have given me plain pasta and I would have thanked you.”
Lance nodded. “It’s not food goo.”
“I don’t know what this food goo tastes like,” Sven mused, sliding arms around Lance’s waist, “but you’re making it out to be something I should never try.”
“Ugh, for good reason.” Lance’s face pressed into Sven’s chest and he groaned. “It tastes of nothing! Absolutely nothing! And has the texture of literal mush!”
Lance scowled at Sven’s continued snickering. “Did you never have to put up with the goo?”
“Nope,” he replied through laughs, “we got monthly supply deliveries containing actual food, although most of it was dehydrated.”
Lance moaned again. “I would have actually died for dehydrated food sometimes.”
“Tsuyoshi couldn’t survive without actual food, so blame him rather than me.”
“Neither can Hunk, but we don’t really get a choice, y'know?”

Lance yawned suddenly, jaw snapping open and ears popping with a crack.
“Is someone tired?” Sven taunted whilst Lance shot him another scowl.
“No, it’s just been a long day.”
“Then why don’t we just go to bed, then we can start tomorrow early.”
He had hardly finished his sentence before he felt Sven’s arms move from his waist, and a hand around the backs of his knees. Next thing he knew, his feet weren’t touching the floor at all, and Sven was holding him horizontally with one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back.
“Are you comfortable, my Prince?”
Once Lance had gotten over his shock, he tossed an arm over Sven’s neck and pulled him down for a short kiss. “I can’t believe my knight in shining armour was here all along.”


Later, Lance was cocooned in duvet and Sven had happily pulled him into his arms, taking their legs together and tucking Lance’s head under his chin. The pale light from the moon that filtered through the snow clouds made the window glow, casting soft shadows in the room and giving everything a silvery lining, and the residual warmth from the fires kept the room pleasantly warm despite the thick duvet.
“So, tell me,” Lance whispered, voice muffled and scratchy from rest, “what’s the difference between elks and moose, just so I know for tomorrow?”
Sven hummed in thought for a moment, causing Lance to squirm slightly in his arms and his breath ghosted his ear. “It’s all in the name, my love,” he stated simply, “what is a moose to you is an elk to me.”
Huffing, Lance rolled over, careful not to crush Sven’s arms as he buried himself further into the larger man’s chest. “Why is there even a difference in the first place?”
“Because you Americans are a strange, strange people.”
“And yet, I’m not even American,” Lance shot back, pressing a soft kiss into his collarbone with a smirk. He felt a hand mingle in his hair, working gentle circles into his nape and neck. Sven’s general presence was nearly overpowering, but perfect all the same; all Lance could smell was his musky body wash, and the faint scent of the cocoa they’d had earlier that day, and all he could feel was Sven’s arms around him and the hand in his hair whilst the other held him tight around the middle.
“G'night, Babe.”
“Sleep well, my Lance.”

He dipped off to sleep, replaying the lilting voice of the man next to him in his head.


This was an apology for everyone I hurt with my last fic, and as per, my AO3 link is in my bio!
Thank you!

Syd Tries FanFiction: The Blarke Reunion

So fair fucking warning I have never in my life written fic before, but I typed this out for @clxrkblake tonight so we could cry and she told me to post it so I’m gonna. Basically this was my ideal, dream reunion before I saw the finale. (I’ve changed my mind about a few things since we saw the new ship but whatever I’ll still dream of this reunion every night for the next 9 months.)

So anyway, I wrote this up in like 30 minutes and there’s probably lots of typos, but deal with it and then come cry with me. <3


Bellamy sits by the window like he does every year, looking at the planet he used to call home. The glass in his hand is almost empty by now. It almost makes up for the whole thats still in his heart. It almost, for a second makes him forget she isn’t there beside him, that they never got that drink. 

He starts the same as he does every year. “I miss you. It’s been 6 years and I still miss you every day. You’d be so proud of everyone. Even Murphy.” He wipes at the tears collecting in his eyes. It never gets easier.

“I just wish… I wish I’d have told you when we had the chance. Timing never really was our strong suit was it? We were too busy keeping 100 kids alive. I wouldn’t trade it for the world though. Not a second of it.” He lifts the empty cup towards the planet thats now her grave. “I still love ya, Princess.”

He knows Raven’s behind him even before she comes to stand next to him. She’s always there for this. “It’s never gonna get easier is it?”

She shakes her head. “No. I still miss Finn every day. But you learn to deal with it. You never get over losing the one you love, their memory just becomes a part of who you are.”

He nods along. He asks her the same question every year. Every year, expecting to get a different answer. Maybe this time she’ll tell him ‘Yeah. The pain fades. One day you can breathe again. One day you’ll be able to look down at the earth below you and not feel that part of you that’s missing. But she never does.

“She’d be so proud of you Bellamy. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I just-” The static of the radio on his hip interrupts his thoughts. “Shit I thought I turned that off.” He fumbles for it, hands made clumsy by the drinks he’s downed. He barely has it out of the holster when he stops himself. Was that? No… It couldn’t be… It was just the alcohol in his system. But then…

“Where - you?"A voice. A voice even after 6 years, after 100 years he would never let himself forget. Her voice.

"Oh my god…” Raven whispers from behind him. “It can’t…”

The radio depends back into static once more before going silent and Bellamy raises his own shocked eyes to meet Ravens. “Clarke?”


They don’t believe him. “You were just drunk Bellamy.” “It’s been six years Bellamy.” They think he’s holding on to a ghost, but he knows what he heard.

“We can’t risk it because you thought you heard a dead girl on the radio.” That’s Murphy.

“It could have been an old transmission… we can’t just go down without knowing anything-”

“I left her once. I am not doing it again. If there is even the slightest chance that she is alive down there, WE ARE GOING BACK FOR HER.”


Three weeks after the night by the window they make contact. He’s helping Monty check on the algae when he hears Raven screaming his name through the halls.

“I found it.” That’s all it takes for him to follow her to the control room, to the radio, to Clarke.

“This is the station it came through. But we don’t know for sure-”

“Have you tried to make contact yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you.”

“Ok…” He sighs and grabs the radio. This is it. He’s either about to finally find that missing piece of himself or lose it all over again. “This is Ark Ring to… the ground. Is anyone there? Clarke are you there?”

There’s nothing. It feels like hours floating through freezing water waiting to hear something, anything.


“I’m sorry Bell.” Monty puts a hand on his shoulder.

She’s gone. He pushes himself away from the table ready to yell, or cry, or hit something. 


“Holy shit.”

Bellamy could tell you he’s never moved that fast in his life, almost falling over himself to get to the radio. “Clarke?”

“Bell-my?” His legs give out, but Murphy leans in to ease his fall.

“Yeah. Yeah Clarke it’s me. Oh my- It’s you? It’s really you? How?”

“Yeah Bell, it’s me.” He can hear the tears in her voice, the same as his own. 

“I’m coming back for you. I’m coming back. I promise. I’m not leaving you again.”

“I miss you.” Its all she can say.


The day they land on Earth the second time, isn’t anything like the first. It’s raining for one.

Two, he knows what’s waiting for him when he opens the door. 

And she is. 

Standing at the tree line, looking as beautiful as the day he lost her, is Clarke. Her hair is shorter. And there’s one or two more wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles, but god is she beautiful. Its like they’re not frozen for a moment, both of them standing in shock and amazement that they finally get this. 

Then, it’s like time is moving in fast forward and he’s on his feet and hers are carrying her towards him and they crash together like suddenly all their forgotten broken pieces are fitting back together. He holds her so close he thinks he can feel her heartbeat in his chest and she tangles her small hands through his hair and they’re both crying. But for the first time in 6 years, they aren’t tears for grieving. He’s sobbing apologies against her hair and she’s whispering forgiveness against his shoulder and it’s almost like they didn’t lose those 6 years. Like they were kids again, stranded on a dying planet, leaning on each other for survival.

He pulls back first to look at her. He wants to take in every single inch of her face and memorize it because he never wants to have to forget that face again. 

“I never gave up.” She laughs. “Not on you.”

He stroked her cheek, through the rain and the tears. “I thought I lost you. For 6 years.”

“You didn’t.” She pulls him close against, resting her forehead against his, and they laugh. 

He spent the past 6 years wishing he hadn’t lost her, dreaming that she could come back to him, praying that he could just hold her one more time. And now he get’s all of it. Because she’s alive and in his arms and laughing with him in the rain and he’s never going to lose her again.

TAH DAH! I hope it wasn’t awful! I’m gonna tag a few mutuals so they can share my pain. Love you guys!

@sassamyblake @bellsgirl @octanakin @ravenbellclarke @starboybellamy @scottmcblake @bobmorlee @stargirlclarke

(click for full view) This is super late but I don’t care, I am absolutely over the moon with happiness with the confirmation of Jughead Jones’ asexuality, I’m going to go on a huge corny ramble below the cut because holy Christ Almighty does this mean a lot to me…

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