i'm reading the second book and i just have this feeling that my life will be ruined

I’ve never understood when people say that a fictional thing (a book, a show, etc.) has changed their lives.

A little over a year ago I wasn’t feeling great. I’d just finished a three year writing course at university, and a combination of essay writing about books I’m mostly not interested in (and ruining the ones that I am) and teachers saying that you have to get your work published in literary journals and apply for competitions because publishers won’t even want to touch your work if they can’t recognise your name. I loathe essays, and I don’t write literary fiction, the only kind of fiction this country seems to be interested in. I was losing the passion for the only thing I’d ever been passionate about, and the one thing I’d ever been half decent at.

Almost ten months ago I was becoming depressed. I couldn’t find a job - in editing, in writing, or even in hospitality or retail - and the government decided that if you want to be getting money for them you either had to be studying full time or applying for 20 jobs a fortnight. I’d only finished studying and there was nothing else that caught my interest, and there’s barely 20 jobs to apply for every two weeks, and that’s with me living in a well populated, urban area (I’d hate to imagine what it’s like for people living out in the country, where there’s five stores and nothing else unless you want to drive for half an hour). And of course coming into this depression was making the heaping amount of anxiety I already have much, much worse.

I was just losing the will to go on as I was, and I was mostly doing it for my friends and family.

At the end of my course I started reading Skulduggery Pleasant and my god, it was the best thing I’d read in three years. It made me smile, it made me laugh, it made me cry, and it made me went to throw the book against the wall (but I’d paid like $20 for that book, so I couldn’t). It made me remember all the reasons I love reading and writing; to illicit such emotion is an amazing skill to have.

This made me feel great about writing, and I began my own novel as part of nanowrimo 2015. As of today I’m in the rewriting process (second draft), and the first draft had approximately 40,000 words; the most I’ve ever written for any project.

But of course we still need to fast forward a bit. There’s this whole, like, six months filled with some kind of depression and some awful anxiety and that one time I had a job for like a month but it made the whole thing worse and let’s skip over that part.

Let’s skip to now. Because of Skulduggery Pleasant I remembered my passion for my life’s craft. And if I’d never started reading that book and writing my novel, I’d never have applied for a screenwriting course at another uni, which we’ve been told is extremely difficult to get into; there’s countless applications every year, and there’s probably about fifty people in the (first year) class; I was part of the mid-year intake, and there’s ten of us, maximum.

Without Skulduggery Pleasant I wouldn’t be writing a novel I adore, or planning another one for this coming nanowrimo. I wouldn’t be planning my own show and slowly tapping away at the pilot, and I wouldn’t be planning two more with a friend I’ve made in this course that I’m enjoying so much more than my other one. I don’t know where I’d be.

I’ve never understood when people say that a fictional work has changed their life but now I do, because Skulduggery Pleasant has legitimately changed mine for the better.

anonymous asked:

I am asking this in all seriousness, but I really do want your thoughts, since I respect your opinion. At what point do you think "I can't write, I get too upset, etc" becomes not just the traditional struggle of the artist and becomes something really serious about yourself that you need to seek out help for? I'm really having a hard time trying to "work", but I'm embarrassed to bring it up with a therapist.

When I got this ask, my cat was in surgery.

She was diagnosed with early stage kidney failure mid-July. Last week, they found cancer. They removed half of her intestines to get rid of it.

Gravy is the most precious thing in the world to me. There is nothing else in this entire planet that matters to me even half as much as she does. She’s dying, I can’t fix it, and the grief is paralyzing. I have written maybe two thousand words this entire month.

Sometimes when something outside of writing is wrong, it ruins our ability to write.

There’s this thing called referred pain. A pinch in your neck can cause a headache. A tight hamstring can cause lower back pain. If you get back massages but don’t stretch your legs, you’re never going to get rid of the pain in any meaningful way. Minds have this too, I feel. When something inside you is hurting, opening yourself to that can make whatever you’re doing feel impossible. And if your mechanism for tapping into that is writing, it can seem like writing is the problem.

I always encourage people, when they’re stuck and blocked in writing, to look outside of writing and see what else in their life might be bringing the negativity. By addressing the underlying issue, you might find yourself able to write without the oppressive cloud of doubt.

But maybe nothing else is going on. Maybe it is just that you’ve gotten trapped in your own head about writing.

In this case, maybe something in your work is stuck, and you can’t see it, but you can sense it. Take a breather. Take a walk. Take a timed break. Give yourself a few days or even a few weeks of not writing. Put a date on the calendar that you will return to your art. Read books you like that have inspired you in the past. When you have cleared your head, go back to what you were working on, go back to the last place in your work that made you happy, and start from there. Or start something new. Find your joy again.

Sometimes its your head, sometimes it’s the work. Part of the process is figuring out what it is, and addressing it.

You said you don’t feel comfortable talking to a therapist about this. The way I’m reading this, either you already have a therapist you’re not comfortable bringing this up with, or you don’t have a therapist and you’re considering seeking someone out to discuss this with.

If it’s the first one, the point of a therapist is to help you figure out how to live your best life. If you don’t feel comfortable telling them about this, I wonder how good of a fit they are. I’m not saying find a new therapist, I’m just saying consider why you are hesitant. Have they not created a safe enough environment for you? Or do you feel this isn’t worth the time? How can you work with them to create an environment where you feel like you can talk about this?

If it’s the second one, well, again, the point of a therapist is to help you figure out how to live your best life. You may find yourself eventually able to go to a therapist to discuss this with them, and through therapy discover that there’s more to discuss than just difficulties in the creative process. Maybe, maybe not. But generally if someone thinks they want to go to a therapist about something, it’s probably a good idea to go. Even if it’s just for a handful of sessions.

And if you are worried because you think this is a frivolous reason to talk to someone, consider: if you are a runner and you have a pain in your ankle that makes running difficult, you’d go to a doctor. Why not go to a doctor about the pain in your heart that is keeping you from writing?

If you don’t feel comfortable going to a therapist yet, try talking to your fellow writers about it. There’s a bit of despair and a bit of comfort in knowing that everybody deals with this, at some point in their career. (In my case, it’s an ever-present cloud that surrounds me in every waking moment, but it’s there for literally everything I do, so I’ve learned to live with it.) Some incredible writers have been struck by the fear that they cannot write well and will never write well.

It’s disheartening to know that, no matter what skill level you’re at, you’re going to face this feeling. Almost every writer does. But there’s comfort to be found, too. Even the best writers deal with this, and we know they write well. That voice that says you can’t write is a liar. If it’s telling even the greatest writers you can think of that they can’t write, then you KNOW it’s a liar.

Sometimes you have to plow past that voice and tell it to fuck off. Sometimes you have to sit down and figure out where that voice is REALLY coming from. When to do which and how to address it varies from person to person. The best I can offer is a bit of comfort and a list of paths away from that voice and towards writing again.

I hope this helps, at least a little bit.

anonymous asked:

Jess, do you think Harry and Louis (this applies to both of them) sometimes get naked or walk around the house only in a tiny underwear, or some panties, when the other is doing ordinary stuff? Like, Harry's sitting on their couch reading a book, then suddenly Louis comes and walks around (doing nothing really just trying to catch Harry's attention) in some black-lacy-pants and then when Harry sees it, he moans like "Loouis!!!! I'm trying to read!" I think about this a lot..

Okay first of all this is the best ask anyone’s ever sent me.  Second of all, do you understand what you’ve just asked me for????

You want to know if these two fools like to tease one another???

Does this guy:

tease this guy??

And does this guy

tease this guy?

I can tell you that the answer is YES but I’m gonna put my scientific research under the cut.

Keep reading


Pairing: Draco x Hermione, Blaise x Ginny (but pretty lowkey)

World: Canon AU

For: @malfxoys  prompt here

Blaise Zabini had been having, what many refer to, as a perfect day. Had been. All of his classes had gone smoothly, especially potions, and he was days ahead in assignments for most of his other classes. Crabbe and Goyle were being less oafish than usual and even Pansy had been relatively kind to him.

No, the problem was Draco.

Draco was quickly becoming obsessed with Hermione Granger, which no one seemed to notice besides Blaise.

“He’s got to like her.” He said to Pansy one morning at breakfast as they watched Draco and Hermione hurling insults across the great hall like chasers do to the quaffle in a particularly violent Quiddich match.

Pansy spit half her pumpkin juice across Goyle’s plate. Goyle didn’t even notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. “No way. He hates her. I mean look at her!” Blaise followed the line of her arm as she pointed with a perfectly manicured nail at Hermione, now standing from her seat at the Gryffindor table. Her wild curls framed her flushed mocha skin and her eyes had a blazing look to them. She would be quite pretty, if she had been anything close to Blaise’s type.  

“Come on Pans, it’s so obvious that they like each other.” As soon as he said this, Hermione sent a bowl of oatmeal shooting across the great hall to upturn itself over Draco’s head. Draco retaliated by conjuring a bucket of water that upturned itself over the top of Hermione. Harry and Ron jumped up and quickly drug a sputtering and outraged Hermione from the hall before things could escalate any further.

“Yeah, Blaise. It’s really obvious.” Pansy laughed as she watched Draco return to his seat next to her and attack his breakfast with vicious stabs of his fork while Pansy vanished the oatmeal from his hair with her wand.

Blaise sighed and resumed eating his breakfast.

That had been two days ago, and ever since then, every time Draco and Hermione ended up in the same room, similar things happened. It didn’t matter if the professors were present or not, so preoccupied were Hermione and Draco with their disgust for each other that it was as if nobody else existed.

Blaise couldn’t figure out if they hated each other, or if it was all an act. To his horror, he found himself increasingly fixated on figuring it out. Which is why on the day when nothing had gone wrong, Blaise found himself thinking about the most recent row Draco and Hermione had had during transfiguration. So consumed was Blaise in his theories that at first, he didn’t fully register what he saw when he pulled back a tapestry to take a lesser known shortcut to the dungeons. The first thing he registered was Draco, pushed up against a wall, his finely featured face obscured by a mass of dark, curling hair. He almost turned around and went a different way because Draco was obviously working his charms on one of the feistier Ravenclaws, but as he was backing away quietly, he saw the red and gold trim on the girl’s skirt. No. Please no. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He must have spoken aloud, because with a gasp the girl whirled around, the dark brown eyes of Hermione Granger staring in mounting horror at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Blaise. It doesn’t matter if he sees us.” Draco said lazily, straightening his tie.

“Just Blaise?” Hermione shrieked, turning around to face Draco again. “Of course it matters!”

Draco fires up at this like, “Would you just relax? Honestly woman. He’s my best mate. He’ll be cool about it.”

Hermione sputters, face flushing in anger.

Blaise drops the tapestry on the sounds of a renewed argument. Harry and Ron walked past Blaise, Harry nudging Ron and asking “Think we should stop them before they break something?” and Ron responding like “Nah, they’ll just start fighting again the next time they see each other. Oh hey Blaise.”

“At it again are they?” Harry asks, noting the barely released tapestry swinging out of Blaise’s hand.

“I just caught them snogging.”

Harry and Ron hesitate for a second, before bursting into loud guffaws of laughter, Ron choking out a “Yeah right, nice one Blaise.”

“They can barely be in the same space together.” Harry says wiping tears from his eyes and dragging a still laughing Ron down the corridor.

“RIP to my peaceful existence.” Blaise says, following them, the sounds of Draco and Hermione’s shouting echoing down the corridor behind him.

Three times.

Three more times it happens in the next week. Blaise can’t understand why it only happens to him, but it does and it’s not fair. And tonight he’s going to talk to Draco about it because it’s ridiculous and it needs to stop. Which is why he’s thinking about how to broach the subject with Draco when he walks through the dungeon wall into the deserted Slytherin common room. It takes Blaise a full thirty seconds before he sees Hermione perched upon a dark mahogany study table in the far corner, her legs wrapped around Draco’s waist and her lips glued to Draco’s.

“What the damn hell is wrong with you two?” Blaise exclaims, dropping his leather satchel on the floor. But to his dismay, they don’t even register his presence. Just carry on, seemingly oblivious to anything around them. “This is bloody disgusting.” He wails, flopping onto one of the dark leather sofas in front of the fire. “Why is it always me?” He hears a door close in the hallway to the girl’s dormitory, and Pansy walks into the common room with a roll of parchment and a quill.

“Oh good, you’re here Blaise. I was hoping you would read through my Charms essay?” She asks, coming to sit next to him on the sofa.

Blaise gestures in the direction of Draco and Hermione. “I’m surprised you can even concentrate with the spectacle going on over there.”

Pansy gives him a confused look, her blue eyes squinting at him. “Spectacle? Honestly Blaise, they’re just studying.”

Blaise scoffs at her before turning back to look at the two of them. Draco and Hermione are seated across from one another, both studiously involved in their own Charms essay. While Pansy isn’t looking, Draco looks up and meets Blaise’s eyes smirking at him. The fucking nerve.

“Are you alright Blaise? You’re glaring into space again.”

“I swear on Salazar’s balls that they were snogging not two seconds ago.”

Pansy stares blankly at him for a second, cocks her head, and then looks at Draco. “No, I don’t think so.” She says as she stands up from the couch and crosses the common room to slide smoothly onto Draco’s lap. “He’s still to wrapped up in me to stray very far. Isn’t that right darling?” She flicks her short blonde hair out of her face and plants a kiss on his cheek.

“C’mon Pans, you know you’re special to me.” Draco says, rubbing her leg.

Blaise can see Hermione’s shoulders stiffen and her hand fist around her quill before hearing her mutter “you fucking pig.” And the next thing Pansy is dumped off of Draco’s lap as he stands dramatically, hands splayed on the table, head bowed like “what did you just call me?”

“I called you a pig.” Hermione says, also standing in an attempt to even out the difference in height, even if the attempt was in vain. Pansy chose this moment to move a safer distance away and return to her spot next to Blaise, sensing the storm about to break.        

“Like you’re one to talk.” Draco says, pointing a finger at her. “Harry and Ron are just the best guys to have around. We’re so close.” He says in an alarmingly good impression of Hermione. “I just don’t know what I’d have done without them all these years.”

“I do not sound like that.” She screeches, smacking him on the shoulder.

“See??” Says Pansy. “They can’t even get through one study session without ending up in a row, let alone snogging.”        

Blaise just gives her a look like, this is all your fault, before picking up his bag and standing up. “You’re ruining my life and it’s just not fair.” He says to Draco and Hermione, who both, simultaneously, say “Shut up Blaise” before resuming their argument without missing a beat.

Pansy’s face is swimming in front of his with a look of horror on her face. “Are you crying??”

“I’m in mourning.” He says, managing a watery glare at her.

“For what??” She has to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of Hermione calling Draco a narrow minded daddy’s boy.

“The death of my sanity.” He says, as Draco screams like, “Everybody knows I prefer my mother Granger honestly get with the bloody program, like, good grief.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Pansy says, grabbing his hand and towing him down the corridor to his dormitory, the sounds of a quickly escalating argument echoing behind them. “And you thought you saw them snogging. Please.”

After another week, Blaise is just so. Done.

He’s walking to dinner, when he comes across Ron and Harry exiting the library like Hagrid’s giant three-headed dog was chasing them. Again. “What’s going on?” He asks, snagging Harry by the back of his robes.

“Hermione just started a massive row with Draco in there.” He says, looking apprehensively back at the library doors. “Madam Pince has already gone down to dinner, so we thought it would be best just to let them sort things out themselves.”

“More like if we’d stayed, one of the books Hermione had shooting across the room at Draco would have taken my head off.” Ron says, rubbing his neck nervously. “It’s bloody scary.”

Blaise stares at them with a weary expression before wordlessly letting go of Harry and turning to face the library doors. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he opens the library doors and walks in, glancing around the room quickly. All is quiet.

And then he sees why and Blaise feels his heart just give up and stop. He has just enough time to see Draco on top of Hermione on a library table with far less clothing than usual on either one of them before he closes his eyes and shouts “You’re like, literally¸ doing it. This has got to end.” He opens his eyes just wide enough to see Draco flip him the bird and carry on what he was doing to Hermione that had her gasping beneath him.

Back out in the corridor Blaise turns and walks back to the dungeons, running into Ginny who looks at him puzzled like “Aren’t you coming to dinner?”

“I’ve just seen Draco and Hermione literally doing it in the library. Eating is the last thing I want to do. I need to contemplate what I did in a past life to deserve this.”

“Hmmm…sounds fun. Wanna give it a go next?”

Blaise stares blankly at her for a full five seconds. “I’m sorry, I can’t take any more.”

She tilts her head to the side, questioningly. “Any more of what?”

“Life.” He says, walking away.

Ginny stares after him for a moment, shrugs, and continues down to dinner, laughing at the idea of Draco and Hermione doing anything other than try and physically maim each other.


“I’m begging you. Literally, begging you, to entertain the idea that our best friends are actually dating each other.” Blaise says, whispering to Harry during Transfiguration. Normally he avoids socializing with others outside of his house, but recent events have made him desperate. Between walking in on them doing it in the library a few nights ago and walking past them snogging in the middle of the sixth floor corridor—honestly how did they not get caught by anyone else ever??—Blaise could not take it anymore. He was determined to get someone to believe him. He figured that appealing to the boy with the hero complex was his best bet. “I mean, if this continues, Draco is going to destroy her.”

Harry seemed to mull this over for a minute. “Okay, I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Blaise sighed, shooting a wary glance at McGonagall before saying “Thanks.”

It’s probably because of this that Hermione shows up at the Slytherin common room the next night, looking murderous. Draco, to Blaise’s complete relief, shows up at that moment coming from the boy’s dormitory, Pansy in tow.

Blaise isn’t prepared for what happens next.

Hermione walks across the room and slaps Draco across the face without a word. Pansy stares at Hermione in shock, while Draco rubs his cheek and looks down slowly at Hermione. “What the bloody hell was that for Granger??”

“You told Harry that you would destroy me so that he would try and get me to stop seeing you??’

“Wait, what??” Draco looks completely confused, which Blaise isn’t surprised at in the slightest. He had hoped that talking to Harry would produce something like this. He sinks slowly into a leather armchair to watch what happens, Pansy perching on the arm of his chair, wisely moving out of the way.

“I mean honestly, Draco, if you wanted to stop seeing me you could have at least told me to my face.” She crosses her arms, glaring at him fiercely. “Coward.” At the precise moment she says this, Harry, Ron and Ginny nearly fall through the wall into the common room, no doubt to try and prevent murder from happening.

“What did you say to her?!” Draco whirls on Harry, looking thunderous.

Harry doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to point at Blaise.

Both Draco and Hermione turn to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You guys aren’t even dating.” He says innocently.

“Of course we’re bloody dating!” Draco shrieks dramatically. Blaise registers the shocked faces of Ron, Ginny, and Harry. Pansy doesn’t move. “You are the literal worst friend.”

“Well we’re not anymore.” Says Hermione, still looking enraged.

“That’s bollocks. Of course we are.”

“Oh we are? Please, enlighten me.”

“I fucking love you woman. It would be ridiculous to stop dating now.” A sort of stunned silence fills the room after Draco’s declaration. Not even Hermione has anything to say. Of course, that could have also been because she was suddenly busy with Draco’s lips on hers.

“Well I think that just about sorts things.” Blaise says, standing from his chair. “Anyone else fancy a jog down to the kitchens for some ice cream?” He looks at Pansy and the group of Gryffindors, who are all still staring at the sight of Draco and Hermione, now unabashedly snogging. He gently herds them out through the common room wall. “Don’t worry, you’ll eventually get used to it.” He says, smiling to himself.

“Just one question Blaise.” Ginny says. “Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?”

Blaise collapses against a wall, staggering under the weight of the injustice of it all. “I hate you all.”


Book: Outlander
Author: Diana Gabaldon
Pages: 896
Genre: Adult Historical Fiction
Rating:  ★★★★★ (4.5/5)


The year is 1945. Claire Randall, a former combat nurse, is just back from the war and reunited with her husband on a second honeymoon when she walks through a standing stone in one of the ancient circles that dot the British Isles. Suddenly she is a Sassenach—an “outlander”—in a Scotland torn by war and raiding border clans in the year of Our Lord…1743.
Hurled back in time by forces she cannot understand, Claire is catapulted into the intrigues of lairds and spies that may threaten her life, and shatter her heart. For here James Fraser, a gallant young Scots warrior, shows her a love so absolute that Claire becomes a woman torn between fidelity and desire—and between two vastly different men in two irreconcilable lives.

My Thoughts:

This is going to be a short review because let’s face it, no one wants to hear me gush (I feel like gush isn’t even a strong enough word for this situation) about Outlander all day. Let me preface this by saying that I’ve been obsessed with Outlander before even reading it. I started to watch the show at the request of a friend and from that day forward I’ve been a mess. If I’m completely honest, I was actually really nervous to read the book because I’m just so in love with the show; I was worried that the book would some how ruin that for me. I’m happy to say that it didn’t, in fact it may have fueled my fangirl heart even more. So you must be wondering, “Jess, if you loved it so much, why would you only give it a four and half stars?” Well my friends let me tell you. I generously knocked off a half a start for three reasons. 1.) There was a scene, I think it was chapter 24, that pretty much infuriated me. I get what was happening, and I loved the scene in the show, but no means no and stop means stop. 2.) At times the book seemed to really drag on. I mean I loved it at times, because the world the Diana builds is so captivating, but I just wanted to yell, “Give me the good stuff!” 3.) I felt like the romance was lacking, especially in comparison to the show. Towards the end it started to pick up and I started to swoon but it didn’t hit me as much as it did in the show. Also the love scenes were so fade to black! I was not expecting that, especially for something labeled as a “bodice ripper.” Please do not let those three point sway you from not giving the book a chance, because it’s really good and I’m so happy to have read it. Also, please do yourself a favor and watch the show, it’s honestly the best thing on TV right now, possibly ever. 

In all seriousness though, this is a fantastic series filled with wonderful characters, enchanting writing, rich history and a heart stopping romance. Please just go read/watch it! 


thank you to bobandsmallbob for spectacular betaing. 

February brought pale light and a slow melting of the snow that blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts. The buds of flowers were just beginning to raise their heads on the frail branches of winter-shaken trees, and the ground didn’t freeze your bum when you’d been sitting on it for the first time since the end of October.

Lily liked February. It was never that unbearable scorching hot like it was in June and July. She liked that the sunlight was still weak enough so that she didn’t feel it beating down on her relentlessly when she stepped out from under the shade. She liked that there was still a touch of frost on the air, that kept her cool and alert. She liked to sit outside during the month of February. She liked to watch things come back to life after a lazy, slow slumber during the winter months. More than anything, she liked to watch the blossoming of new flowers, baby leaves and trees. They often replaced old flowers, and she liked to quietly observe the new life, often something more beautiful than what had been there before.

Keep reading

Friday, I’m in love... with your writing! (Week 3)

Wow, 3rd week in a row!!


My first crush of the week, is this gorgeous lady. She’s an unbelievably wonderful writer, that often complains about being a bit wordy. And I have to say, she’s not only wordy, not a complain, but also worthy of our devout admiration!

Now I want you to go to @kayteonline‘s blog and follow her immediately, if you aren’t already.

Her entire MASTERLIST is fascinating but I’m here only to present you 3 of my favorite stories. 

No Babies in Baby! - To Be Alone With You *Smut*

A two parts miniseries (over 13k words length. Wordy, yes, but sooooo worthy!) Dean x Y/N become parents, and although parenthood can be a bed of roses sometimes, it also brings A LOT of sexual frustrations along the way and it’s captured perfectly in this amazing story.

A Hairy Situation

So not what I had in mind when I read the title. Super fluffy, Sam x Reader (College AU? not sure). 

Last but not least Bela Donna series (In progress)

Sinfull Nightmare - Born To Be Wild- Million Dollar Man *Mild Smut - masturbation*

Dean meets you in a dream, and can’t get you out off his head ever since. What would happen when he sees you in real life? Also, Bela Talbot, that’s a warning because I know she’s gonna ruin everything. 

So, there you go, just 3. But can always go check her full MASTERLIST if you go follow @kayteonline 

For my second crush of the week I’m gonna intruduce you all to Laura, aka @just-another-busy-fangirl I haven’t really talk that much to her, but I can tell she’s super sweet! 

This is the first series I read from hers, and I have to say you will probably die from the sexual tension between Y/N and Sam Winchester.

Neighbors (AU) The Apartment - Night Out, Or In?  -  Awkward *Mild smut - masturbation*

Moving in to a new apartment can be stressfull, so what would happen when you find out the wall you share with your new super hot neighbor it’s extemely thin… What is it with me and male masturbation lately?


Dean x Reader, Titanic inspired AU, I must say this one caught me by surprise, not the ending I was expecting, this was perfect in comprison with the one I had in my mind! 


Sam x Reader, phone sex, masturbation Again? I just can’t help myself, and sort of fluffy ending, leading to what I’m imaining will be the hottest sex of your life.

This girl has an incredible selection of a wide variety of ships as well of plenty of reader inserts for you to enjoy. You just need to click the follow box when you enter her blog @just-another-busy-fangirl and then accede to her MASTERLIST

The you have them, week 3 crushes. Remember to tag me in all of your SPN related works or if you feel like spreading the love, you can always recomend me some fellow writer so I can fall in love with them! Now go READ the works of these marvelous writers, and REMEMBER TO ALWAYS LEAVE FEEDBACK!!

Tagging a bunch of people below the cut because I really want this to become a thing.

Keep reading

 A/N: So, for me this story has been a whirlwind. I’ve met so many gorgeous human beings because of it. I just wanted to say that I quite honestly love anyone who has said nice things to me as a consequence of this daft thing I wrote half on a whim and half at your encouragement. I know it’s simple, I know there’s not a bunch going on and it’s rather predictable – but I love you all so much for everything. And not to spoiler alert or anything, but the rating has kinda gone up, maybe, sorta… 

I also had a few questions about who I thought Emma’s boss would be fairy tale wise, and while he’s not in Storybrooke, I’ve included his name in this chapter so you can figure out who he is through that handy thing we call google :)

Whatever Floats Your Boat

CS Bookshop AU

Part 1: Clichés // FF
Part 2: Romantics
Part 3: Biographies
Part 4: Children’s Literature
Part 5: Imagery
Part 6: Travel Guides
Part 7: Epilogues
Appendix 1: Cook Books


Part 6: Travel Guides.


I quit my job this week. 

There were three things that happened within the space of three weeks that Emma would say - with the benefit of hindsight - were probably (definitely) worth noting. Of course, at the time she was none-the-wiser, she was simply the same small girl making the same frightened choices, lost to most people and to herself. She had no clue what she was doing, except that every vein in her body was begging her to scratch the itch that spread through her like pins and needles. 

So, Emma waited.

As she always did when she did this (which she’d done several times, now), waiting for the regret to sink in. A boy had told her once, twisting on a rusty carnival swing, that she would just know when the decision wasn’t the right one; know when an overwhelming feeling of post-adolescent yearning was location specific and not an esoteric longing for somewhere non-particular. Just as Emma would always wait for that answer, for that confirmation, that feeling, the response came back a resounding ‘no’ each and every time.

(Much to Emma’s great disappointment.)

Similarly, that is exactly how it came to her now.

‘No, you will not regret leaving this place’.

But there was something there that wasn’t there before, and there was no denying to herself what was different this time.

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Clexa fanfic rec

Mostly for future reference but also, if you haven’ read these, what are you waiting for?

(Only including fics updated in the last 30 days. This list will be updated every time I find a new fic or old ones get updates. I’m a really picky reader)

Breathe Me by  dance_tilyouredead

“She’s never felt this before. Except. She thinks of green eyes set in dark kohl shadows and she knows. She felt naked then too.”

Or, Clarke wanders off to be alone. But then Lexa’s right there and she’s the only one Clarke can bear to hold on to. Somewhere between fisticuffs, hair braids and body-paint they both become the person the other needs most.

Hodnes Beja by  Sorken

There is nothing she can do but keep on walking, dry leaves crushing under her feet. Her limbs keep screaming at her to stop, but the command just won’t come. She knows that if she stops to rest, her emotions will catch up. But as long as she continues moving forward, she will be fine.

Understanding by  AbsorbingMisery

After the fall of the mountain, Clarke must decide how she wants to continue with her life. Who she is, who she has become and who she wants to be. She knows there is only one person she could seek out to understand, but needs one thing before she takes that final step.

Rise Into Ruin by  crazywisdom

Post-2x16. She is tired, vengeful and she wants answers: that’s all that draws Clarke to Polis. But a new enemy on the horizon, cracks within the grounder hierarchy that threaten Lexa’s newly-acquired charade of peace, and the reluctant desire to trust once more, makes her stay.

this heart, fossilized and silent (once was tender and once was violent) by  Chrmdpoet

Clarke is only three days into being a runaway when she realizes that she did not fully think this through.

“I don’t need your help, Lexa.”

“You are wrong.” The Commander crosses the short distance between them and surprises Clarke by kneeling in front of her. “You do not want my help, Clarke,” she says quietly, “but you do need it.”

take this boat and point it home [we’ve still got time] by  socallmedaisy

They’re both broken now, after Finn and Costia, Tondc and the missile, the war, the betrayal, and she wonders if there’s enough pieces left to form a whole.

strong in the broken places (the world breaks everyone) by  firetestsgold

Post 2x16. Clarke is still trying to reconcile slaughter and survival when she’s caught up in the middle of grounder civil war and taken for prisoner. And among her captors is the last person she wants to see.

Winter In My Heart Series  by  cissyalice

When she finds you after, the dust of war has long since settled, though the blood still clings to the skin of victory.

(Summary for the first part,  I Can’t Get Any Lower)

Forged in War by  RavenclawGenius

Lexa can be patient, for Clarke.


You See the Smile That’s On My Mouth (it’s hiding the words that don’t come out) by  heartshapedcandy

It takes Clarke and Lexa about five seconds to fall in love, but it takes them way too long to realize it. This is that way-too-long.


a story in which Clarke and Lexa kiss too much and communicate too little

We Are Young (And Sometimes Reckless) by  trulybetold

Clarke inhales sharply, “Well, the Greek root lex refers to words, which are in books, and you work in a bookstore…surrounded by words…” Lexa flashes Clarke a faint expression of awe followed by a light laugh. Or… the AU where skateboarder Clarke can’t stop thinking about the cute bookstore girl.

i built a home for you, for me (held on as tightly as you held onto me) by  coat

As Lexa walks past, giving the dog a wide berth, she spots a figure beside it. A girl with braided blonde hair stretches out on the park bench, fingers tangled in the dog’s thick fur. She frowns softly. Usually the homeless people Lexa sees are older males with scruffy beards, tugging shopping carts filled with cans. But this girl on the bench, her golden hair streaming over her back, looks so out of place that Lexa almost stops. Most homeless tend to stay near the city, yet here she is, in the middle of the forest.

Or: In which Lexa takes in two strays, but it’s really herself that’s saved in the process.

bathroom stalls & late night calls by  unicyclehippo

Clexa Texting au 

I wanna cry and I wanna love (but all my tears have been used up) by  aoliviaw

Clarke just shakes her head at her friend. She honestly doesn’t know why she is friends with her sometimes, but she loves her anyway. “Just shut up and go ask your captain if she fancies a trip California.”


The one where Clarke needs a fake girlfriend, and for some reason Lexa agrees

this is a state of grace by  chasingredballoons

It’s like something out of a bad teen movie: the popular cheerleader and the nerdy social outcast paired together for an irrelevant biology project that will probably have zero impact on their final grade. It somehow manages to get even more clichéd when Clarke realizes she might be crushing on the aforementioned nerdy (incredibly cute) social outcast.

when love becomes the reason by  clarkesquad

The one where it’s not a love story, it’s a story of a girl who needs a plus one for her brother’s wedding (and a girl who needs to be at that wedding).

Spoilers: It’s a love story. It’s always a love story.

Definitely, Maybe by SavingOphelia

It wasn’t just the eyeliner, or the weird detatched stare; there was something about her roommate, and Clarke wasn’t about to surrender her first year at college to this awkwardness. / Clexa college AU, with appearances from everyone we know and love.

Artists Love Better by cissarego

Modern AU - Clarke is an artist and Lexa, a photographer. After a not so friendly first encounter, they find themselves intrigued with each other. A timid friendship starts to grow into something more. Are they ready for this? A bit of fluff, hints of angst and a lot of Clexa! :)

One shots ( I don’t usually read one shots, but I really liked these ones)

a scared pair of walking soldiers, we’re all wounded anyway by  weathered

“Clarke doesn’t love Lexa. Not yet, not really. But Lexa makes her so mad, and maybe that’s the same thing. ”

Beneath the Stars by  arkfallen 

“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don’t we deserve better than that?” — an AU version of Clarke and Lexa’s relationship and the events in Tondc (see: minus Cage Wallace’s itchy trigger finger).

i   d o n ‘ t   t r u s t   m y s e l f 

“And if my past is any sign of your future, you should be warned before I let you inside. Hold on to whatever you find baby, hold on to whatever will get you through [..], I don’t trust myself with loving you.”

{a/n: guess who’s bizzack! so this is the first installment of my imagines based off of one of my fave albums ever (this part is based off this song particularly) and it’s the first time i’ve written one of these in a while, but i actually like this so…yeah. i hope you enjoy, leave feedback, constructive criticism, requests, whatever!}

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anonymous asked:

One thing I'm very confused about is how Stiles is no longer sick. I know he was possessed by the Nogitsune, who later on moved on to a different body, another Stiles. For awhile after being possessed, I know he had symptoms.. Did the disease somehow go away? Or did I miss something?

I am very confused about this too, anon.

I think this is just further proof that Stiles is definitely something, and that whatever he is, he and Claudia are the same.

It all starts with Melissa noticing Stiles’ symptoms in 3x17 Silverfinger, which list as “hallucinations, impulsivity, irritable, and acute onset insomnia,” to which Melissa goes and check’s Claudia’s file…

And her symptoms are listed as “irritable, impulsive, vivid dreams, hallucinations, acute onset of insomnia.” They are having the exact same complaints. (Stiles didn’t mention vivid dreams, but we can see that he obviously has those in 3b)

The Sheriff comes up with a pretty identical list, including “impulsive, hallucinations, insomnia, night terrors, dissociative, confusion.” Interesting addition here is the word “dissociative,” which means “to sever the association of (oneself); separate: to withdraw from association.”

I’m wondering if this means Stiles was just distancing himself from everyone (which we see him do in 3b for fear of hurting anyone), whether Stilinski observed some early possession where Stiles was acting as Void, or if it suggests something even darker, such as Stiles dissociating himself as the Sheriff’s son. But tangent aside,

The doctor confirms these symptoms as Stiles having Frontotemporal Dementia, just like Claudia. Stiles tells Scott in 3x18 Riddled:

You know what they’re looking for, right? It’s called frontotemporal dementia. Areas of your brain start to shrink. It’s what my mother had. It’s the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers. And there’s no cure.

Notice how he doesn’t explicitly say “it’s what killed her,” he simply says “there’s no cure.” He could be saying there’s no cure to “the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers,” but either way he doesn’t say the FTD killed his mom.

Regardless, if there is no cure, then how are you still alive Stiles?

In 3x21 The Fox and the Wolf, Sheriff offers us an answer to our question, that it was merely an illusion brought about by Void in order to strip Stiles of any sense of hope:

The specialist I saw in LA told me the thing that every doctor says when he’s trying to avoid a lawsuit. “We can’t say for sure.” And then I spoke with Melissa. These are brain scans. My wife’s and Stiles’. I knew they were similar.

And it’s established that it’s physically impossible to have brain scans from two different people match perfectly (I tried to further research this notion, but couldn’t find much of anything, but it’s logical. Everyone’s brains are different just like fingerprints, so I think it’s safe to assume they’re right in this case).

One interpretation is that Void was just playing a trick to break Stiles so he could fully take possession over him.

Yet I don’t think that’s what’s happening here, because of Claudia.

If the writers did their research on FTD, then Claudia is still an odd case. FTD usually hits people in the age range of 50-60, but Claudia was 32 according to the medical records Melissa shows. Everything I’ve read up on FTD makes it sound like this would be close to impossible, even if Claudia’s relatives had a history of this illness. The more likely occurrence would be if Claudia were 50 or older, or in the even rarer case of getting it as a teenager.

Which leads me to the conclusion that something supernatural is happening here, and that it has happened to both Claudia and Stiles.

This means either Claudia was possessed by a nogitsune at age 32, or Claudia is something and Stiles is now that something too. I’m leaning towards the latter.

My conclusion would be that either the FTD is a process of Stiles becoming whatever it is he’s meant to be, or he just cured the illness away because of his supernatural status.

Which leads into another interesting question:

What about Stiles having ADHD?

This was a running gag in season 1 and 2 about Stiles and his inability to focus and the several mentions of adderall, and just from Stiles’ character we can tell he’s jumpy and restless and pretty distracted.

That is, until season 4.

I understand Stiles has undergone a hell of a lot of character development, especially after being possessed by an evil fox spirit, but it seems his ADHD has been cured, just like the FTD and just like Scott with his asthma.

In the very first episode, we get this account:

Stiles: I’ve been up all night reading websites, books, all this information.
Scott: How much Adderall have you had today?
Stiles: A lot? It doesn’t matter, here just listen!

And again Stiles says in 1x02 Second Chance at First Line:

What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And yes I’ve had a lot of Adderall.

Coach even mentions this in 1x05 The Tell:

Finstock: So, Stiles. Great kid. Zero ability to focus. Super smart. Never takes advantage of his talents.
Sheriff: How do you mean?
Finstock: Well, for his final question on his midterm exam, he detailed the entire history of the male circumcision.
Sheriff: Well, I mean, it does have - historical significance, right? I mean -
Finstock: I teach economics.
Sheriff: Ah, crap.

And Sheriff brings it up again in 2x09 Party Guessed:

How the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little bastard that keeps ruining my life.

And Stiles’ conversation with Morrell in 2x11 Battlefield:

Stiles: I’m fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible’s about to happen.
Morrell: It’s called hyper - vigilance, the persistent feeling of being under threat.
Stiles: But it’s not just a feeling, though. It’s - it’s like it’s a panic attack. You know, like I can’t even breathe.

Panic attacks are also closely associated with ADHD. Up till season 3b, it’s safe to say Stiles having ADHD and having Adderall prescribed is canon. But then we get this interesting turn of events in 3x17 Silverfinger.

Melissa is asking Stiles about his symptoms, and something stood out to me:

Stiles: Blackouts. But not for that long. And sleepwalking, which I used to do a lot as a kid. Umm… also having some really bad anxiety.
Melissa: Panic attacks?
Stiles: Yeah, a couple. Oh, and I temporarily lost the ability to read. But that might have had more to do with this giant magic tree and a whole human sacrifice thing.
Melissa: I recall something vaguely about that, yes. How many hours of sleep are you getting?
Stiles: Eight.
Melissa: A night?
Stiles: In the last three days. Yeah, definitely eight.
Melissa: Been feeling irritable?
Stiles: Yeah. Possibly to the point of homicide.
Melissa: Inability to focus?
Stiles: No, the Adderall’s not working.
Melissa: Impulsive behavior?
Stiles: More than my usual? Hard to tell.
Melissa: Vivid dreams during the day?
Stiles: Okay, basically all of the above. Do you know what this is?
Melissa: I think so.

Stiles specifically states the Adderall’s not working, but he also answers “no” to Melissa’s question “inability to focus,” meaning Stiles currently can focus just fine, regardless of the Adderall (also Melissa doesn’t list inability to focus on his symptoms). Stiles is no longer experiencing the symptoms of ADHD.

And his ADHD is never brought up again from this point on.

What’s also interesting is that the symptoms caused by people who take Adderall who do not have ADHD include: anxiety, agitation, bruxism (grinding teeth, clenching of the jaw), muscle pain/stiffness, headache, insomnia. Anxiety and agitation are the most common, and if Stiles has cured himself from his ADHD at this point, taking Adderall would just intensify his already existing symptoms caused by the nogitsune.

In conclusion, I have reason to believe there is something going on with Stiles, especially with his curious ability to constantly avoid death and serious injury, and now the healing of FTD and ADHD. I believe Claudia may also have been whatever it is Stiles is becoming, and Claudia may actually still be alive.

anonymous asked:

Do you have anything you'd recommended a student starting Classical Studies in September should read? I'm starting uni soon, and am freaking out because I realise I don't really know anything. Thank you so much

hey!! okay so first off i think i may have another ask from you sitting in my drafts, and i’m super sorry for not responding to it earlier. second, so, i definitely do have some recommendations for you, but if you’re freaking out a bit about not having read much yet, i think it’s super super important to keep in mind that the whole point of university is that you know all this stuff when you leave, not when you arrive. if you think that reading up ahead of time will make you personally feel more prepared or less nervous about starting your course, absolutely, yes, please do read as much as you want to!! but if you’re freaking out a bit - which is completely understandable! - please please try to remember that you do not have to be an expert from day one, and no-one is going to expect that from you. 

(my entire first two years at uni pretty much consisted of courses designed to get everyone to the same level of understanding, including a semester-long lit course that included stuff like reading and discussing the iliad book-by-book with the assumption that none of us had ever read it before. people don’t expect engineering students to turn up to their first lecture with the robot they built at home, right?)

THAT SAID, if you do want to read a few texts in advance, here are my (highly biased, selective, incomplete) top picks!! this is a sort of greek mythology for beginners post i put together ages ago, although by no means feel like you have to read all of them - the iliad/odyssey/aeneid are all works that will probably be covered at some point in your degree and are also seriously fucking long, so you may want to leave them until you get a chance to cover them in class. if you do want to give them a shot, i highly recommend the fagles translations of the first two, but there’s plenty to choose from. the argonautica is way more fun, way shorter and also gives you an excuse to (re)watch the harryhausen jason and the argonauts!

tragedy, comedy or poetry are also good options! here are a bunch of pdfs of good translations of greek tragedies, and i would highly recommend anne carson or carol ann duffy’s translations of sappho, ted hughes’ tales from ovid: twenty-four passages from the “metamorphosis”, or basically anyone’s translation of catullus. for comedy, you can pretty much never go wrong with lysistrata. if you like history, herodotus is the #1 most fun and penguin handily did this abridged version a few years back

in terms of reading stuff about classics, i honestly would really recommend mary beard’s books. they’re really fun, enjoyable reads, they’re interesting and they’re informative. (they’re also very easy to get hold of, unlike a lot of classics books!) i’ve just started her latest one, s.p.q.r., which is a history of rome, and so far she’s doing an excellent job of explaining roman politics, which is a bloody difficult thing to do. pompeii is also great (and who doesn’t love a pompeii book?), and confronting the classics is really, really interesting on a more meta level; it’s a bunch of reviews she’s done of other scholars’ books, which sounds deathly dull but is actually amazing. it reads basically like a collection of short essays on a ariety of super interesting subjects eg. boudicca, the reconstruction of the ruins at knossos, the asterix comics, why thucydides is such a pain to translate, etc etc etc. it’s really, really fun, basically! (if there’s any more specific topics you’re interested in, let me know and i can give you some more recs)

oh, and before i forget - seriously do not underestimate documentaries and radio programmes! admittedly i will pretty much watch any documentary ever - one i spent four hours watching a bbc documentary about the london underground - but there’s shitloads of good classics programmes out there

anyway sorry i’ll stop there bc i don’t want to overwhelm you!! i’m just listing off a few of these because like i said, they’re all very accessible and interesting and don’t involve that much effort - you can just put them on while you’re doing something else and sort of soak up knowledge like a cool, classically-educated sea sponge. i hope everything goes great for you in september and you have a great time at uni <333

anonymous asked:

Hiii! Could you do maybe say fox mulder but where it's an established relationship?? I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you!

this is Jake Peralta, oops.


Derek is furious. His tie is uncomfortably tight, the car is ridiculously hot, and his partner is giving him sad eyes from across the console. 

“I am sorry, Derek,” Stiles says again. “I’m sorry the big anniversary dinner was ruined by the literal axe murderer coming home, and I’m sorry I called you in—”

"You didn’t call me in,” Derek interrupts, “You called the restaurant.”

“I didn’t want anyone to think you were sitting on your lonesome because you’d been stood up!”

“I was stood up. My husband was otherwise engaged.”

“But— they didn’t know that! I didn’t want anyone thinking you were alone and waiting because I had chosen not to be there.”

Derek snorts, casts a glance at him, “I worked out why you were late, Stiles. Why didn’t you just call me?”

Because,” Stiles sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and his ring catches in the street light, makes Derek feel warm and settled even after two years of looking at it. “I hate the idea of work taking over our lives, and I hate not being able to spend time with you that’s just… ours. If I start using your cell to call you in to work it’s like… we don’t have any space. Just for us.”

Derek shifts in his seat, keeps one eye on the house as he turns to face Stiles, “Do you not want to work together any more?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

do you have any favorite baekyeol fics you would recommend? love your edits btw so lovely!!! uwu

hi anon !!!! ((sweats)) i have too many fave fics to recommend you .. . baekyoel .  .. .. .i’ll give you my top five?? ten?? let’s go with twenty !!! hehe this isn’t really in any particular order because all of them are amazing and you need to read it omfgmomg ((bolded are faves and i have read them more than once))

masquerades - i have reread this fic soOOoO many times it’s unreal i just /sighs/ love it so much i didn’t know i had it in me to adore a fic so much but scientist baek and agent park is cute ple a s e read it pellapsleplsease god this fic is amazing and balanced with all the right fluff and angst and o h h od let me die and be reborn in a world where this fic is tattooed all over my body ((maayacola is one of my fave writers please read her other stories make a day feel like a minute and armor thanks))

linear - this is adorable /stuffs face into a pillow/ beautiful baekyeol is beautiful

third wheel, spinning - this fic is written in second person ((so you’re like…involved in the fic eh heh)) i don’t usually read fics like these but this oNe is absolutely amazing and i was hooked right from the start omfg even if you don’t read those kind of fics please give this one a try !! ((all of sutecha’s fics are amazing omfg other masterpieces are moments like this, let the future fall into place, soliloquy all of which are so well written i love the way she writes ;; even though she’s stopped writing fics now please read all of them))


can i wish you away - well this is  … .no . .. it will ruin you .. .jsut. .. beware it will slay your soul…oh myod


exit strategies - i have no words for this tbh it’ just so. .dark?  ? mysterious ? ? amazing ((side story from chanyeol’s POV can be found here))

try this on for size - oOhoh OH HERE COMES THE SMUT GUYS HOLD YA HORSES !!!! hehe this fic is great and very /wink wink/ if you know what i mean please be of age i don’t want to ruin anyone’s innocence in this fandom so yes this is v not pg13


there are dark times (but i’m glad i have you) - cute baekyeol and no electricity is cute yes i recommend this i hope everyone reads this it will make you happy!!

and then, your heart drops - /clutches self and rolls into a ball/

a former “most love only lasts for a while” - meep yes please let me cry over the perfection of this fic i’m /heart eyes/

baby, i’m your biggest fan - i’m wheezing this is beautiful i’m in love baekyeol and their banter is the most amazing thing in the world fight me

complications - very unique plot it’s really well written too i mean who would’t want luhan as a best friend please i’m begging you rEaD THIS

let love in - very important and tbh i’m running out of words to say because all these fics are amazing and you need to read all of them ple  ase

human nature - goodbye i do not exist anymore rip nicola

chasing what you already have - sigh why do i do this to myself this is what i do everyday i drown myself in baekyeol and cry over them and their cuteness

between the lines - U uGHhh GHhh /dying whale noises / do u hear that it’s my cries of despair over this fic i have thrown myself off a cliff because i am so sad this fic is not a book so can hug it to my chest and sleep with it fml


okAy so i think i’ve cried over enough fics for now woops i’m sorry for all my word vomiting, i think that’s 20 fics?? it was so difficult choosing my top faves ((there are so many more don’t you worry lil peach i never run out of fic recs when it comes to baekyeol)) but i hope you like the ones i’ve recommended so far !! if you need more just shoot me a message, and i’m sorry if the links don’t work or come out on the wrong page in case i’ve mixed them up orz ;;

you can also check my fic recs page here which i will be updating today !! but i bet you once i finish updating there’ll just be 10 more fics to add by the next day otl and i’m so lazy so don’t depend on my fic recs page ^^

thank you for liking my edits cutie !! i love you so much /shoots hearts/

have a nice day and enjoy !!

New York was pretty much everything Derek hated conveniently wrapped up in a loud, dirty city, and he often asked himself why a twenty-four year old man still let himself be bullied by his older sister.

The truth was, of course, he couldn’t bear to be living more than half an hour away from Laura, not since their family died. So he braved the smell, the crowds, and the general nuisance of the bustling streets of Manhattan because he wasn’t able to say no to her pout.

The only times Derek could tolerate the city was when he was walking around Central Park and he managed to snag his favorite spot before all the tourists and hipster white girls with their pumpkin spice lattes and Instagram got there.

He hated when that happened.

Today was one of those days. He’d gotten a call from work saying that he needed to come in on the weekend, and so he had decided to finish rereading Oedipus in the park before his whole day was ruined. But when he got there, he was horrified to find that the hipsters had already settled in, their checkered picnic blanket spread out comfortably between the two rocks where Derek liked to stretch his legs out. They looked like elven princesses, what with their tall, slender bodies, jean jackets and flowy hippie skirts, and their flower crowns. It was ridiculous and Derek wanted to maybe lie on the floor and question his life choices for a few hours.

So he decided to read on the only empty bench close to where the girls were, just so he could swoop in and claim his spot back the second they left. Settling back into the bench with a wince because ouch, he flipped open his book and had only read a few lines when he caught movement at the edge of his periphery. He looked up, intrigued, to find a young police officer saddling up his horse.

The boy was lean, but the way the breadth of his uniform stretched across his shoulders took Derek’s breath away. He was pale, his skin splashed with a spattering of moles that Derek could vividly picture himself mapping with his tongue, which of course led to the tips of his ears burning red just as the pretty cop glanced up and caught his gaze. The guy smiled shyly and Derek nodded in acknowledgement, his face still flushed and went back to his book.

He had nearly gotten to the scene of the big reveal when he heard the sound of hooves clip-clopping their way towards him and he looked up to find the same police officer approaching. Blinking, he closed his book and stared at him for a long moment.

Derek coughed awkwardly. “Is something wrong?” he asked roughly, wincing internally when the words came out harsher than he had intended.

The officer tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes there is,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, the metal of his badge glinting in the sunlight. Stilinski, it said. There was another pause before,

“You are under arrest for being smoking hot, sir.”

Derek blinked, because, really?

He squinted up at the police officer, who had a dumb grin on his face, and Derek was surprised to find himself having to resist the smile tugging at the corners of his own mouth. Instead, he shot the guy a painfully dry and unimpressed look, his eyebrows raised.

“You’ve been watching me for over 20 minutes, and that’s the best you can come up with?”

Stilinski blinked, obviously taken aback. “I, uh…” he trailed off, unsure, and Derek went back to his book with a smirk.

“No, hey, see that wasn’t even my line!” he protested, and Derek looked back up to where he had stepped closer and damn, Derek was not prepared for that kind of exposure. “I googled it,” he admitted with a sigh, startling Derek into a sharp burst of laughter.

“You wanna try again?” Derek asked, offering the guy a small smile and watching, entranced, as he ducked his head, a flush spreading across his cheekbones.

“I’m not really good at this stuff, so,” he shrugged, and Derek got up, sticking his book back into his bag and sticking his hand out.

“I’m Derek,” he offered, and Stilinski blinked at it for a brief moment before a wide smile swept across his face.

“Stiles,” the guy said, taking Derek’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake. “S’nice to meet you.”

Okay, so maybe the city might not be as bad as he originally thought.


“That was the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard,” Derek slurred into Stiles’ ear, fingers digging into the meat of Stiles’ hips and relishing the way Stiles let out a moan.

“Oh god it was three months ago, let it go,” Stiles replied breathily, dragging his lips across the stubble on Derek’s jaw and nipping at his ear. “And it still got you to sleep with me.”

“If I recall correctly,” Derek said with a raised eyebrow as he pulled back a little to look Stiles in the eye, his fingers fumbling at the button of Stiles’ pants. “I was the one who asked you out to dinner that first night.”

“Semantics,” Stiles shrugged, and Derek rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t want to,” he said, his eyes going dark when Derek dropped to his knees.

Derek pulled Stiles’ jeans down and pressed a kiss to the crease between Stiles’ thigh and his groin. “I wouldn’t still be dating you if I didn’t want to.”

“Sap,” Stiles teased, and hissed when Derek followed the kiss up with a quick bite.

“Maybe you should be nicer to the guy literally about to suck your dick,” Derek offered, and Stiles beamed down at him.

“You’re the greatest, babe,” he giggled, and Derek sighed. “This is where you have laid your affections, Hale.”

Derek looked up at Stiles, meeting his gaze steadily. “And I don’t regret a thing,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of Stiles’ hand in his hair.

“This got way too feelings-y for a blowjob,” Stiles said with a sigh, and Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Are you saying no?”

Stiles scoffed, his fingers tightening in Derek’s hair. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

A Hufflepuff Story

There came a time in which many people who were sorted into Hufflepuff on Pottermore were disappointed in their results. Half of these people who were sorted into Hufflepuff decided to abandon their account and either try again with a different approach or just give up on it thinking they’re lame or something. I was once one of these people. Hard to imagine me being that way, eh? Well I have a story for all of my followers to read about how my view of Hufflepuff changed over time. And as my view of Hufflepuff changed, I changed, too. I became a more mature and open-minded person. But of course it wasn’t easy at first. In fact it was quite unnecessarily painful. It deeply scarred me emotionally, but what I didn’t know back then was that my scars were going to heal and make me who I am today. And for that, I am proud of myself- and others who have gone through similar experiences in their lives.
[ —–> You are now me, a few years ago. Pottermore had recently opened to the public and you are signing up for the first time late one night. Your sibling, Jordan, had gotten the beta testing version and is a Slytherin.

Imagine staying up late past midnight. The room is dark besides the glow from the computer that illuminates your face. You had just gotten an account on Pottermore and you were getting ready to take the house quiz which would decide your fate. You felt so enthused! You just KNEW you had to get into Gryffindor! Everyone wanted to be the ‘heroes’. And if not the 'hero’ then maybe you could be a bookworm in Ravenclaw, afterall, you loved to read! Or if not that then Slytherin where the ambitious, powerful, and pure in blood are! Also your sibling is in Slytherin so you might be, too! But not Hufflepuff, Thats the last thing I could be! But you thought about what the Hufflepuff traits were. You didn’t remember, because you had never cared to pay that house any attention. You look up the four houses traits and see that Hufflepuffs were ‘fair, loyal, and hard working.’ Sure you guess these were good traits to have, but they definitely didn’t stand out like the other houses did. You decide there was no way you could be in that house.
The quiz is to decide your fate. The quiz of fate! The quiz that will dictate whether or not you were brave, smart, cunning, or uhhh fair.
You take a long time on your quiz, making sure you answered them all with your heart. You even went back to check your answers one last time. Then, crossing your fingers, you hit submit.
Your internet bars drop by two. You frown and jiggle the mouse. Ugh. Internet died at the WRONG FRICKIN TIME!
You hit refresh at the top of the page multiple times, anxious to know what house you had gotten into. After five minutes of no internet, you decide that you’ll find out in the morning. But you had a hard time going to sleep. As you lie in bed you kept telling yourself 'of course I got into Gryffindor! But you were nervous in an excited sort of way that wouldn’t let your brain shut up and allow you to rest. You keep reassuring yourself, I’m a nice person who likes to help others in need. I can be brave when danger is around, I’d protect my friends and family with my life! I’m a chivalrous person, too! I may be scared of spiders but hey, so was Ron!’

Morning comes and you wake up to the sun screaming light through your bloody eyelids. You immediately remember you were supposed to find out your house results. Jumping out of the bed and to your desk, you open your laptop and log in. You log in to Pottermore.
The webpage flashes gold before your eyes.

You cringed as you read it.

‘… Whatt?.’
‘ No! This has got to be a mistake. I’m a Gryffindor, a massive powerful LION, not a bumble bee!
No. No no no no no no no noooo!

I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. I’ll wake up any time now to an invitation to Gryffindor..’

You almost jump out of your seat when you hear a few steady knocks on your door. Closing the internet, you call them in. Jordan comes in with a wry expression and murmurs out of curiosity “Soooooo?”

You put your hands on your lap as you spin around to see them. You blink at them then look anxiously out the window to keep a calm act “ Sooo- what?” You angle your head to the side playfully.

They smile and roll their eyes as if you should have known what they were talking about “The Pottermore thing! Have you gotten sorted yet?” They sit on the edge of your bed.

You hesitate before replying “Errr uh, no.”

Their eyes light up with excitement “Really? Okay so maybe when you take it we can hang out and we can celebrate whatever house you get into! I’ll bring snacks!” Jordan says with glee.

You hesitate before replying “Okay. Give me some time to get ready then.”

Your sibling smiles again and winks “ Okay! Let me know when you’re ready!”
They leave you alone in your room. Your smile fades from your face as they leave, worried about what to do about the situation. Then you got an idea! You spin your desk chair around to face your computer again, this time you open Pottermore and create a new account, this time using your junkmail email.
'If I take the house quiz again, I’ll know what not to answer. That way I’ll get into something else besides Hufflepuff!’
You get the account name Dragonjinx###. This is a better name then your last one, which was Broomhazel###. You quickly sped through getting supplies for Hogwarts, getting your cat, and getting your wand. All you really wanted was to get into a different house. You finally get to the house quiz. You remember that your sibling had wanted to be with you when you took the test.
You yell across the house-
Very professional I know.
So your sibling comes in a few seconds later with a box of cheese-its and stands behind you as you click the start button.
You don’t remember seeing the first question before, or the second question or most of these questions. You decide to review them a second time just to make sure you answered them to the best of your abilities. You hover the mouse over the submit button.

“ What'chya waiting for?” Your sibling asks.
You reply by clicking submit.
You feel your last bit of hope getting torn from you as gold flashes before your eyes. Hufflepuff.
You hear a curious gasp behind you.
“ Hufflepuff?” Your sibling replies.
“ That sucks. Sorry about that. You must have answered the wrong answers. I know you aren’t a Hufflepuff, you’re my sibling. You’re better than that.”
You tear up a little as your sibling tries to comfort you. You turn away to hide the tears.
“ This Pottermore thing is stupid anyways. This quiz is wrong and it isn’t worth my time.”
You manage to blurt out.
Your sibling replies with a tune of insult.
“ But I’m pretty sure MY results and many others were spot on. Just because your results are bad doesn’t mean the entire website is dumb. IT’S NOT OUR PROBLEM YOU’RE A WORTHLESS PUFF.” And with that, your sibling slams your door behind them. Once again you’re alone.

'Stupid sibling. Ugh. Stupid quiz. Stupid POTTERMORE. What the heck does J.K Rowling think she’s doing putting the most generous and dedicated of fans into the worst house of Hogwarts? I’m so ANGRY!! AUUUGH!’ You ball your hands into fists and look down at the floor. 'How are you going to tell your friends?! They’d laugh at you!’ You then thought about how you and your friends grew up with the Harry Potter series and were always that group of dorky kids dressed in black robes at the midnight premiere at almost every movie… 'All of that, and now this? I don’t deserve this..’ You feel more tears stream down and you open your eyes to see them drop onto the open palms resting on your lap. 'Spent your entire life in this fandom and now it had ruined you. I guess the Harry Potter fandom was never really meant for you.’ Your mind wanders deeper into the past, remembering how at a young age you didn’t have any real friends until the others came along. They would all meet in the library after school and read Harry Potter books. After reading the first few books, you introduced it to Jordan who in turn became a fan as well.

It took you a lot to admit to your friends what house you were sorted into. The only thing that made it a little easier was that two of your other friends were also puffs, but that didn’t ease the pain much. You tended to have very strong emotions, unlike most of your other friends who were nonchalant. In your group of dorks, there were three 'puffs, including yourself, two Slytherins, two Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw.
You noticed that you and the other two Hufflepuffs had distanced yourselves from your other friends who were sorted into Gryffindor Slytherin and Ravenclaw. The houses that were considered 'worth something’. You and your puff friends were outcasted from the main friend group. Your non-puff friends started to assume that you would FIND things for them if they told you they lost something. And when you’d snap at them to stop losing their shite they would be all “Wow, I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be nice.” You would have to constantly remind them that being 'fair’ doesn’t mean being nice, which a lot of people think it does. You became very cynical. Everyone thought that you started having some sort of attitude problem, because you felt angry all the time and snapped at the smallest of issues. In reality you were stressed out and depressed because you felt like everyone was against you. While you and your puff friends would sit at a nearby table next to the others’ table, you would hear the others arguing about which house out of their three was the best- with no question whether Hufflepuff was a part of this. You would sit there intently listening in, shooting down their questions in your mind with your own solutions like 'how about you just get a fucking life you self-serving fuck?’ The other puffs were busy chatting about something funny that happened in gym that day. In a way I was glad they weren’t spending time groveling in envy and pity like I was.
It took me a while to realize that I wasn’t necessarily jealous of their houses anymore, because I didn’t want to be in any of their stinking egotistic houses. I wanted Hufflepuff to be on par with the others, but of course with all of the ugly stereotypes that Hufflepuff is full of ditsy weaklings we weren’t going to get very far. You asked yourself every day why J.K Rowling would create Hufflepuff if this was all that they were for.

I took a break from Pottermore, and the entire Harry Potter fandom for over a year. I pushed away anything related to it because I didn’t want to have to deal with all of the scathing Hufflepuff jokes. I was ashamed of what Pottermore had made out of me and my friends. It made tension in a group of life-long friends. For the first time in what seems like forever, you stopped talking to them all together. You were sick of this, and one day, you decided to give it up and move on in life.
Whenever I would see something about Hufflepuff on Tumblr or any site, I told myself to avoid it. However, there were some times that I decided it wouldn’t hurt to read a few of them. Some of the time they would hold my interest for a while. One post in particular really hit me in the heart. It was enough to make me want to search up things like ‘reasons hufflepuff is better than other houses’ or ‘reasons why hufflepuff is awesome’ or ‘hufflepuff facts’. And, in a strange way, it calmed me down. But I also had that same envy for the other houses. I would think about them bitterly and go back to avoiding anything Harry Potter related.

What brought me back was when I heard from my sibling that Hufflepuff had won the fourth house cup. I was so shocked a gasp escaped me. I thought they were joking at first. It caught my attention, though I never admitted that to my sibling. Hufflepuff WON SOMETHING?! Holy shit. This was revolutionary. Maybe there is hope for Hufflepuff after all?


It took me a long time to remember my old username, which had been created over a year ago. I logged on to see gold and black banners and a Hufflepuff badge. 'What an old familiar sting..’ I thought as I clicked on the Great Hall button. I saw that Hufflepuff had the trophy icon next to it, signifying that Hufflepuff had recently won the house cup. I went back to the Hufflepuff Commons and read countless comments from my fellow puffs that made this victory possible. They were all encouraging and made me feel good about being a Hufflepuff. It gave me a second look on Hufflepuff, and then I realized something. J.K Rowling wasn’t going to allow us to choose which house we were going to be in because like 80% would choose Gryffindor, 10% would choose Ravenclaw, 8% would choose Slytherin, and then 2% would choose Hufflepuff. J.K Rowling may have forced us to see the other houses in a different light by distributing us more equal in number to different houses. Your house is what you make it, not what the other houses say you are. Hufflepuffs can be heroes too. And if you think not, you are fucking wrong, because to me- everyone in Hufflepuff is my hero because they didn’t give up when faced with discrimination. They chose to build on the solid ground when we had reached rock bottom. They are heroes, they are warriors. That is what makes Hufflepuff worth fighting for. Because to me it meant a lot. For all the puffs out there who was ever dissipointed in their house results, you are not alone. But never forget that every house is worth fighting for, even if it’s Hufflepuff. And to the people who won it for Hufflepuff; you guys are fuckin’ awesome. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, destroy them. Destroy them with puff pride. Soon after, I made a blog about Hufflepuff and named it Huffleplus!
To everyone;
thank you.

anonymous asked:

I enjoy your resources, but I have to ask if all the asks you get really are about lgbt/ethnic issues or do you cherry pick them for some political agenda? I'm bi myself but I'm tired of seeing progressiveness always being forced into fiction.

I have a lot of thoughts about this. 

First, I think the idea that I’m cherry picking asks if just a misunderstanding. I don’t answer everything I get and you can read why here. I’m not picking certain questions to fit any sort of political agenda or to keep up some facade. 

I do care about this stuff, especially the real world consequences since I know what it’s like first-hand to not see yourself on screen or in the books.

Second, being bi (and mentally ill and others things), I too sometimes get sick of seeing constant campaigns and promotions, especially of stuff that was never meant to reach a mainstream audience. Here is what you’ll find under the cut:

  1. This Was Not Made to be Mainstream
  2. A Look Into Our Lives: Letting the Non-Marginalized Know All the Details
  3. Brownie Points? Cookies? A Pat on the Back? Avoidance of Critique?
  4. Not For You
  5. The Danger of a Single Story
  6. Why Aren’t You Writing Yourself?
  7. Conclusion

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