i'm sure someone else has pointed this out by now but

  • fanfic writer: *writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
  • fic: *witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
  • fanfic writer: Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
  • fanfic writer: Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
  • fandom: Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
  • fanfic writer: :/
  • * * *
  • same fanfic writer: *writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
  • fanfic writer: LOL *post*
  • fandom: OMG THIS IS THE BEST THING YOU HAVE EVER GRANTED US WITH, WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE, OMG, I NEED A SEQUEL IMMEDIATELY, PLEASE. WHAT THE. I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY. *kudosrebloglikereccomment*
  • fanfic writer: *sigh*

jalapeno--business  asked:

So whenever I read trc, I'm always overwhelmed by this almost pathological desire to experience the same feelings of wonder and beauty and magic that you describe in the series. Yes, I understand that there is no sentient, magical forest to discover, and no sleeping king that I can search for, but I still have this urge to have similar feelings and experiences in my life. So how do you experience a similar kind of magic and wonder that you describe in your books, in everyday life?

Dear jalapeno–business,

Are you listening closely?

As an author, I travel a lot. At one point, I was on the road one day out of every three — planes, hotels, rental cars. There’s a rhythm to it, like running up a very long flight of stairs. You figure out how many stairs you can take in a jump, and how to breathe-in-breathe-out to keep from wasting your lungs, and you learn how to tell when you have to stop to rest your knees or you just won’t make it to the top. 

The airports and the planes and the people can all start to seem the same after awhile, if you’re looking at them wrong. If you let them. Anything in life can sound ordinary if that’s all you’re listening for.

Back in 2014, I was in a Texas airport. The night had that glittering senseless jitter to it that happens when you’re tired but going home, finally going home. I was early for my flight and sitting several gates away from my real gate, listening to music. A young man sat down two seats away. Ordinarily, tired and occupied with the peculiar every-day magic of the music in my headphones, I wouldn’t have noticed him, but a moment later, a phone rang. He asked if it was mine; it wasn’t. Someone had forgotten it on the seat between us. 

We both looked at it.

It rang again for someone who didn’t know to pick up, and then he took it away to one of the United desks for them to give it to someone who would listen. He didn’t return.

Two hours later, I went to my real gate to board. Full flight. Everyone was checking and double-checking their seat assignments as they defended their right to aisles and windows. When my seatmate settled himself next to me, I looked up, and it was the guy from the waiting area. He had a tilt to his chin that telegraphed that he thought he was hot shit and a grin that said he recognized me. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

We laughed ruefully and applied our headphones — we both knew the routine of polite air travel. But the agreeable tingle of the coincidence still ate at me, and I could tell it ate at him, too, because after a few moments, he offered me a truffle from his bag. I told him I couldn’t take it because of my allergies, but the headphones came off. We started to talk.

And he was a big talker. He was cocky. A surgical resident. He told me how he loved the hell out of taking internal organs out of people. He described how he listened to sixty-minute epic soundtracks in his ear buds while he removed appendixes and gallbladders, kidneys and stones. He told me of watching Dateline by himself at the end of seventy and eighty hour work weeks, and he told me about his Hyundai, which I made fun of. Confidentially, he whispered to me about a surgeon he knew who had the goal of removing every gallbladder in Texas. Two hours into the flight, the conversation tilted toward spirituality. He’s hot shit, he confessed, and works hard, but he sometimes wonders if he’s allowed to want to be successful, or if that makes him a bad person. Because he’s working a lot of hours in a week, and he’s tired, but he’s pretty sure that he’s hot shit, but maybe that’s not allowed.

I was watching him fumble his fingers over each other. He was scratching a hole in his own palm.

And all at once there was a phone in my head, and it was ringing just for me. 

“One of your parents has obsessive-compulsive disorder,” I told him. “Maybe both.”

The shimmering grin slipped. “How did you know? How could you know that?” 

I asked him if he was getting treatment for it.

He said, “No, no, I’m over it. How could you know that?”

Because in a foggy way, that phone was still ringing between us, and now, I recognized the number.

I said, “Don’t kill yourself.”

He replied, “No way,” and then he started to cry. 

The shit-eating grin had vanished. He told me how he’d made up his mind that he didn’t want to make it to 35. He’d researched all the ways to make sure he didn’t. Over the next hour, I told him about my OCD, and how I thought his uncertainty over wanting to be successful but also wanting to be humble was a function of his OCD’s spiritual obsession. That he wasn’t over OCD, that you never were, but that his agony didn’t have to be a real thing. He could be both humble and successful. It wasn’t against the rules of goodness to be proud of what you’d done, as long as you were doing things for the right reasons. I told him how once I bought a race car, but I’d given it away to someone who could use the money, because I realized I was only racing to look sexy in a car, and not because it was really making me happy. 

I told him he didn’t have to worry about looking sexy in a Hyundai, though, and he replied that he would look sexy in anything, and then he cried a little more. 

Everyone else in the plane was asleep, but we were wide awake.

When we got off the plane in Virginia, the surgical resident gave me an awkward side-hug, and he wiped his face. Then he dug in his bag for the wrapper from his truffle. As the other travelers shuffled past us sleepily, he pressed it into my hand. He didn’t want to give me his name, he said, but he wanted something for me to remember so that when we ran into each other again in 15 years, I’d know who he was.

After we’d parted ways, I turned my phone off airplane mode, and a text came in that had been sent while I was in the air. It was from the person I’d given the race car to. I hadn’t heard from him in nearly six months. The text said only: thank u maggie i have such a hppy life bc of u

Magic.

You have to be listening closely. Phones are ringing all over the world, and sometimes they look like magical forests, and sometimes they look like race cars, and sometimes they look like surgical residents.

urs,

Stiefvater

anonymous asked:

Hey! From that huge au list that you said you were accepting prompts on, could you possibly do stucky, the "I hit you with my car and I'm the only one who visited at the hospital, you okay?" with steve being the one hit by the car? It's a sick day for me and it feels like I've exhausted all good fanfiction... you're my only hope!

“Which flower arrangement says ‘I’m very sorry for running you over in my car’?” Bucky asks into his phone, frantically looking between an arrangement with tulips and an orchid.

There’s a long pause, then Natasha asks very level, very calm, “James?”

“Yes?”

“What did you do?” she asks in that same, calm voice.

“I RAN SOMEONE OVER WITH MY CAR,” Bucky yells. “I JUST SAID THAT.”

“Excuse me sir,” says the little old woman shopping next to him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for yelling,” Bucky says. “I’ll be quiet.”

“No, no, dear, that’s not the issue,” she says.

“Oh, then am I in your way?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that I’m about to leave the store, and drive home. I’m hoping that you’ll give me a few minutes’ head start before you leave, too.”

He nods and smiles at the old lady, then goes back to his phone. “I wish I were dead,” he says, still smiling.

“Daffodils are nice,” Natasha says.

— —

It’s probably presumptuous to go visit the guy you hit with your cat in the hospital and Bucky’s pretty sure that if his insurance company knew about Bucky going over there they’d be pissed, but you can’t just run someone over with your car and not visit them in the hospital. That’d just be bad form.

Bad form like not stopping all the way at a stop sign and grazing the pedestrian who is crossing the street.

He knocks on the door. “Uh, hi,” he says, looking at the guy laying in bed.

The guy sits up a little, then winces. “Hi,” he says. “You lost?”

“No, at least… I don’t think so. You’re Steve Rogers?” The guy nods. “Okay, well, I’m Bucky Barnes and I maybe sort of hit you with my car,” he says, hiding behind the bouquet of daffodils a little. He peeks out from behind it. “Sorry about that,” he adds.

The guy snorts. “Believe it or not, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit by a car,” he says, “and you just tapped me.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even be in here if it weren’t for my pre-existing conditions.” He perks up a little. “Are those for me?” he asks, looking at the flowers.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, walking forward towards the bed and holding the flowers out to Steve. “They are! They’re… daffodils.”

“I’m horribly allergic,” Steve says, grinning. “Gimme.”

“But you’re—“

“Already in the hospital,” Steve says, taking the flowers and smelling them. The yellow looks nice with his soft blond hair and it’s kind of cute when his thick black frame glasses slip down his nose while he sniffs. “Wow! These are great.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Bucky says, trying not to blush because the guy he ran over with his car is really stinking cute.

“Thanks for coming,” Steve says.

“Oh, uh,” Bucky says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It was the least I could do.”

“I’m I the hospital so much that my friends don’t even notice at this point, so it’s nice to have some company.” He’s still holding the flowers, and looks down at them again like he can’t believe he really has them, and Bucky wonders why his friends wouldn’t come visit him in the hospital when he is obviously the most adorable dork in all of New York City. He looks back up at Bucky. “You want some pudding?” he asks. “I have some extra.”

— —

Two years later and Steve feeds Bucky a spoonful of pudding. “Yum,” Bucky says, smacking his lips together.

“I can’t believe you convinced the caterers to serve pudding,” Steve says, grinning.

“You know how some couples have special songs or places?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says.

“Well, our dessert is pudding,” he says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” Steve says.

“And I still can’t believe that you agreed to marry some guy who ran you over with his car,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs. “You didn’t have enough money to be worth suing,” he says. “And,” he adds, “you only grazed me.”

Bucky grins, leans in and kisses his new husband.

“And you grazed me with your love,” he says. “Same thing.”

“Not at all!” Steve squeaks and Bucky laughs and around them their friends and family dance awkwardly to a mediocre DJ and they’re husbands now, and Bucky will never, ever, run over anyone else for the rest of his life.

gruntledbananafish  asked:

Hi there! I have a situation and I'm not sure what to do. I just joined a D&D campaign and I'm really enjoying it. However, one of the guys in the campaign made a rape joke in the middle of the session. Everyone kind of ignored it. I don't know the guy super-well so I'm not comfortable talking to him directly, but it really made me feel like shit, especially because I have some personal experiences (which I don't wanna disclose). Should I talk to the DM about this? What do I say?

I can’t tell you what to do, or how to feel in those situations. I can only tell you what I would do.

I would talk to the DM right away, and I wouldn’t apologize for my feelings. This is one of those things that I think is pretty binary: rape jokes aren’t okay, and I don’t want to be around anyone who thinks that they are. If the DM makes excuses or isn’t willing to take your concerns seriously, I would tear my character sheet up right there and leave the group.

The problem isn’t just that this guy thought it was okay to make that joke, but that everyone at the table didn’t have a problem with it. I don’t know how far you want to take it, and what your personal red line is, but I’d talk to the DM first, and then I would ask for a moment at the beginning of the next session to address the group about it.

I would say something like, “I really enjoy this campaign, and I like being part of this group. But the last time we played, I felt really uncomfortable when a rape joke was made at the table, and nobody seemed to have a problem with it. If I’m going to continue to be part of this group, I want you to know that I’m not okay with that. Maybe you don’t know that 1 in 4 women has been sexually assaulted or raped, and maybe you don’t know that when you make those jokes or go along with those jokes, you’re communicating to the women around you that you don’t take it seriously, and that you’re subtly communicating to the men around you that rape and assault isn’t a big deal. Literally every woman I know has been sexually harassed at some point in their lives. More than half have been sexually assaulted, and I know several rape survivors. Rape jokes aren’t funny to me.

“I hope that this was a thing that was just sort of blurted out, that wasn’t considered, that doesn’t reflect your values or who you are. Like I said, I’m having a really good time being part of this campaign, but if this sort of thing is not a problem for you, I can’t be part of this, and I’m ready to leave right now if that’s the case.”

Or something like that. I think you get the gist of what I’m going for. If they minimize your feelings, get up and leave. There will always be other games to play in. If they want to deflect it minimize it, because they’re embarrassed, give them a moment to react, and see if you can engage in dialog about the realities of sexual assault for women.

I always believe that it’s worth making the effort to educate and enlighten someone, but that’s not the only way to deal with these things, but that’s absolutely not your responsibility. Their feelings aren’t your responsibility. What I’m suggesting is that you make it clear that this isn’t funny or acceptable, and that if they think it is, you’re not going to be part of the group. In a perfect world, they’ll sincerely apologize. In a perfect world, they will realize that they hadn’t seriously considered the reality of sexual assault, and they’ll own their actions.

I know that a lot of gamers read this Tumblr, and I know that a lot of women read this Tumblr. Maybe someone else has advice or experience they’d care to share with you.

I’m sorry that you have to deal with this, and I hope that it’s resolved in a way that lets you continue to play in the campaign, and helps these dudes grow a level in humanity.

Mysterious Galra Theory or “That Time Keith Rescued Princess Romelle”

Alrighty, my children, gather your popcorn and your blankets and get comfortable, because Mama Shards is about to take you for a ride along another one of her wild theories!

For those who aren’t familiar with GoLion/Defender of the Universe, Princess Romelle was Allura’s cousin, and pretty much her twin except literally. She was kidnapped and held captive by Lotor as a harem girl because of this likeness (in case anyone had any doubt how creepily obsessed with Allura Lotor was in the original). For this particular theory, this is really all you need to know.

Going back to the mysterious Galra in the Weblum, we’ll call them “MG”, we only know two for sure things about them:

  1. They’ve been there a while.
  2. They were there for scaultrite.

Keep reading

I need a fic now where before the fight with Rhea, Kara gives the necklace to Cat for safekeeping in case she doesn’t make it.”- thank @xy0009 who graciously let me write this for her 


“Aren’t you supposed to be out pummeling that alien queen into the concrete?” Cat asked, watching Supergirl land gently on her balcony.

“I am, soon. Sooner than soon,” Kara said, looking at the countdown that was playing on the corner of all the screens behind Cat’s desk. Fifteen minutes left. “I just had a talk with Kal. Er, Superman.”

Cat’s eyebrow lifted at the accidental name drop, tucking away the information for… nothing, probably. She couldn’t exactly start printing every little slip up Kara made in her presence. But it was always nice to know more than other people. “Did he give you some tips on not getting snatched by that god-awful cape?”

“No, although that would be helpful if he had any,” Kara said, twisting the end of her cape anxiously around her arm. “He just said some stuff about… about fighting for people that you cared about. His girlfriend, mostly.”

“Superman has a girlfriend?” Cat asked, sidetracked for a moment at the thought of Lois Lane finding out that her precious superhero was going home to someone else.

Keep reading

I find it really interesting how in a Date With Markiplier, Dark claims to give you four choices. He says it’s more than he (Mark) ever gave us. BUT! That’s actually not true at all.

Sure, he gives us four options but three lead to no where, they just show us how creepy Dark can be. There’s only one option that will lead to some kind of ending. But Mark always gave us two options that could lead to an ending.

To me, this shows how manipulative Dark really is. He claims to give us a choice, but there really isn’t one. 

anonymous asked:

THE RFA BREAK UP POST AH MY HEART!!! Okay. So. What about the MC moving on and finding someone else? And RFA+V+Saeran realize that they still had feelings for her, but it's been a long time(like maybe a year or two) and MC's finally moved on and they just... Don't have a chance? Why am I like this. Why do I want this. I'm awful. (PS I didn't cry when I read the breakup one, no sir, I did not.)

hey i just read your breaking up headcanon and can i ask for rfa+v+saeran regreting their decision but idk maybe its too late or not its up to you

hi can i ask for a sequel of your break up hc like they regretting their choice and trying to get you back

aah these were similar so I figured I could do them all together! hope you like it. A sort of sequel to this


Yoosung

  • It took 14 months for Yoosung to regret everything
  • 14 whole months
  • Once he realises that he does in fact still love you with every ounce of his being, he starts getting weird
  • Like Yandere Mode™ is activated 
  • It starts off with the usual social media stalking, and he even has Seven helping him find out things about your life via what you post online
  • But soon enough he’s becoming obsessive, and Seven stops helping so not to let it get worse
  • But it does
  • Not being able to investigate everything he can about you online makes him jealous of anyone you’re in contact with
  • Talking to the guys in the messenger? Not on his watch
  • He becomes insufferable, constantly inserting himself into your conversations, commenting on everything you post online
  • You’re almost certain you’ve seen him in the corner of your eye whilst out and about a few times
  • But that’s just you being paranoid, right?
  • Either way it eventually reaches a point where he’s on your doorstep, begging you to take him back
  • He’s crying and rambling, and he’s quite possibly has something to drink
  • But you don’t love him anymore
  • In fact you’re unsure if you could ever love him again 
  • So you tell him this, and it sure as hell is not what he wants to here
  • You’re stuck with a blubbering mess at your door, and have to call Seven to come and retrieve him
  • After this things change drastically
  • He knows he doesn’t have a chance with you, you made that extremely clear
  • He stops stalking your online presence, instead turning to the one comfort he has - his games
  • All he ever does is sit at his computer, playing his games, isolating himself from the outside world
  • Because he doesn’t want to be a part of the outside world if he doesn’t have you.

Zen

  • It really didn’t take long for Zen to regret his decision
  • Like it was probably about 5 months, if that
  • Even the first night when he went to bed alone he had the seeds of doubt growing within him
  • Unfortunately for him, those 5 months were all it took for you to move on
  • You knew it was all for the best, things just didn’t work out
  • But he didn’t think like that, and he wanted you back
  • He tried to be romantic, turning up at your door with flowers, dedicating his performances to you, leaving you voicemails of him singing love songs
  • But you ignored everything
  • You felt guilty ignoring his efforts so much, but it was the only way you would get him to move on like you had
  • How would he let it go if you let him think he was getting somewhere with you?
  • His attempts start getting more desperate, with more and more drunk voicemails being left throughout the nights
  • One of these nights you hear a thump by your front door, opening it cautiously only to find a passed out Zen on the floor
  • You debate just bringing him in until morning, but that would probably give him false hope, so you grab your phone and call Seven to come and help you
  • The two of you manage to get Zen into the car, and you go with Seven to take him home
  • Once there you take Zen inside, helping him to his bed
  • After fetching a glass of water for him, you see he has start to wake up a little
  • Still drunk and groggy from passing out, he thinks he’s dreaming
  • Crying a little, he reaches his hand out to hold yours
  • I love you so much, please just come back to me
  • But his begging still does nothing for you, so you tell him that things will never go back to how they were, and you quietly turn around and leave to go home
  • The next day is surprisingly peaceful, no calls, no visits, no voicemails
  • This continues for weeks, and althought you don’t hear from him you think he’s moving on
  • But you soon find out that isn’t the case
  • Jumin informs you that Zen is drinking much heavier and earlier than he had been previously, and the reason he hasn’t been contacting you is because he’s usually too drunk to even move, that is of course if he hasn’t passed out
  • You lose count of times you wake up to find him passed out on your doorstep, because no matter what happens or how much time passes, he always finds his way back to you, even when you don’t want him to
  • You are after all the love of his life, and he doesn’t know any different than to go to you.

Jaehee

  • She thought she was doing the right thing
  • She thought she had made the right decision
  • But one night whilst watching Zen’s latest romance film for the 100th time she realises it would have been your 5 year anniversary
  • Had you not broken up two years ago that is
  • She’s been so damn busy with work, she’s barely had time to think about how she feels
  • But here she is, suddenly swimming in memories of the two of you 
  • It doesn’t take long for her to realise she’s full of regret
  • How could she let you go?????
  • It’s late now, so she decides to just sleep on it
  • Waking up she’s hopeful it was just a night of reminiscing 
  • It wasn’t
  • If anything, she feels even stronger
  • She suddenly can’t stop thinking about running her hands through your hair, the glimmer in your eyes, the way your hand fits perfectly into hers
  • Every little detail she overlooked before were now screaming to be seen
  • It also just so happened this was the day of the RFA meeting, and she was going to have to see you
  • She got lost in your eyes as you spoke to the group about the guests for this particular party
  • She doesn’t even know what was said
  • After the meeting she casually makes comment to Jumin about how happy you looked
  • That’s when he says the one thing she never wanted to hear
  • Well it’s probably because of the new girl they’re seeing
  • Her heart literally shatters as he says the words
  • Jaehee doesn’t really know how to handle this??
  • Why at the same time she realised what a monumental mistake she made by ending things with you, did she have to find out there was someone else making you happy
  • Her way of dealing with it is pretending everything is normal
  • Not you or anyone else ever notices, she hides it so well
  • If you had known, maybe you would realised you felt the same
  • But you never find out, so you never reflect on how you feel about her
  • She supports you in your relationship, and seems to get on really well with your girlfriend
  • But when no one is looking, her eyes well up, and the occasional one escapes
  • She cries herself to sleep more often than she’d ever be willing to admit
  • Seeing you and your new girlfriend happy together breaks her heart over and over again
  • She would kill to be the one making you smile like that, just like she used to.

Jumin

  • He’s always prided himself on his ability to ‘kill his feelings’
  • And when he ended your relationship, he did this easily
  • It didn’t take long for him to revert to his old ways, being stiff and generally unwelcoming 
  • He was civil to talk to, but he was so different to the person who had you inside his head for three years
  • The breakup felt like it had almost killed you
  • It took you a very long time to get over it, because you never had any closure
  • But then you met someone, someone who let you in from the start, who treated you like you were the single greatest thing on earth
  • You still had a lot of hurt in you from Jumin, but this new person was like a breath of fresh air
  • As things get more serious, you start bringing them around the group more
  • Up until the first time Jumin meets them, he had no idea you were even considering dating other people, let alone be in a serious relationship with someone
  • He’s polite, but doesn’t make much of an effort with them
  • He ??? doesn’t ??? know ??? what ??? this ??? feeling ??? is ???
  • It feels like his heart is actually aching, but that’s just illogical, surely?
  • That night he sits with Elizabeth, drinking his wine and trying to figure out what is going on with him
  • The best thing he can think to do is call up the person who knows him better than himself, and he does so, explaining these strange feelings to his best friend
  • V chuckles softly, a hint of sorrow in his voice as he tells Jumin what it is
  • Jealousy
  • He hangs up, shifting Elizabeth and walks over to his penthouse windows, looking out at the night sky
  • V is right, and Jumin knows it, but there’s nothing he can do
  • He is the one who ended things after all
  • He can’t swoop in now and hope to have you back
  • His solution is to obviously stomp out the feelings, but it doesn’t work
  • He cant get you out of his head, you even haunt his dreams now
  • So instead he distances himself from the RFA more and more, only speaking with V on a regular basis
  • RFA parties can’t be avoided, so when the winter party finally arrives, he doesn’t have a choice but to go
  • Seeing you hurts him, but no one could have prepared him for what happened
  • Your significant other proposed, in front of everyone, right in the middle of the room
  • You were so happy and excited you didn’t see Jumin’s tall figure quietly leaving the building
  • But V did, and for a brief second, he almost thought he saw a glistening tear making it’s way down Jumin’s face.

Seven

  • About 6 months after that party, you started to feel better
  • To say you were completely over him would be a stretch, but it didn’t feel like the world was crashing around you whenever you saw him
  • As you started accepting the relationship was over and letting go of it, Seven slowly started joining back in with the RFA more
  • It doesn’t take long for the two of you to become relatively close again
  • But it’s different 
  • You still love him, but it just feels platonic now
  • It didn’t seem possible that you would ever get to a place where you could be happy in his presence again, yet here you are
  • The pair of you spend a lot of time together, but you still manage to start dating again
  • A lot of people are uncomfortable with how close you are to your ex, except one
  • They’re so perfect ???
  • You can’t believe it ???
  • If you thought you were happy when you were with Seven, you were wrong, this was genuinely the happiest you had ever been
  • Little did you know that during those months where you were rebuilding your friendship with Seven, it was bringing back more than just platonic love for him
  • Without even realsing he found himself madly in love with you again all of a sudden
  • He just wanted to have you at his side all the time
  • And whilst you did spend a lot of time together, it wasn’t how he wanted it
  • He stalked your new significant other online within an inch of their life
  • Everything they ever posted or was posted about them he found
  • But there was nothing in there to use to get rid of them
  • They were a good person
  • But even so, everday before he went to sleep, he would check again
  • One day he would find something, to keep this person away from you
  • He had to find something
  • Slowly as your relationship progressed, Seven started holding himself back, once again isolating himself from everyone but V
  • He didn’t know how he was supposed to live a life where someone else made you smile the way he used to.

V

  • A little part of him always harboured some feelings for you still
  • He knew he would never completely move on, but he didn’t expect this
  • It had been a little over a year since he broke off your relationship
  • You were less bitter, so he saw this as a sign of you having moved on
  • But something about that just didn’t sit well with him
  • Had you really let it go?? Did you really no longer have those feelings for him??
  • For a long time it seemed like you would never move on
  • So now that you had, he hated it
  • It didn’t take long for him to realise
  • He was still in love with you
  • The second it was clear to him, he wanted to drop everything and run to you, just to plead for a second chance and tell you how much he loved you, how he had been so stupid to give up such a perfect person like yourself
  • But he didn’t
  • You finally looked happy
  • And if that didn’t make his heart feel light and airy, he didn’t know what would
  • He knew how much he had hurt you, and he didn’t believe he deserved a second chance no matter how much he wanted it
  • So he chose to keep his feelings to himself, never telling a living soul about how much he craved curling up with you every night 
  • How he craved to feel your hot breath on his lips again
  • How he craved to see you smile because of him again
  • He spends his time pretending he doesn’t love you
  • Just seeing you happy and healthy is enough for him
  • Even if not having you by his side physically hurts him
  • Whenever he hears you laugh he has to actively stop himself from daydreaming about a life where you were his once more
  • Unlike the others, it’s not because you’ve moved on that he never gets you back
  • He just thinks it’s for the best
  • But if he had told you how he felt, he would have found out you were still in love with him too
  • Instead you both continue to hurt, both wishing the other would reach out
  • But neither of you ever do, and neither of you ever get over the other.

Saeran

  • He was wrong
  • He was so fucking wrong
  • He doesn’t even know why he said it
  • Of course he loved you, of course he still loved you
  • But he had said it, and he had shattered your heart into so many pieces he could never fix it
  • So he never tried
  • It took a long time for you to get over it, at least 3 years to be specific 
  • But you got there eventually
  • Looking at him didn’t hurt
  • Being in his presence didn’t make you nauseous 
  • Hearing his voice didn’t make you want to scream
  • What you didn’t know is that it was the other way around now
  • Looking at you hurt 
  • Being in your presence made him nauseous 
  • Hearing your voice made him want to scream
  • He knew he had left it far too long now, and you were finally happy
  • There hadn’t been much if any relationship between you since the breakup, so when he started isolating himself you didn’t even notice
  • It was Seven who reached out to you, telling you something was wrong with his twin but he didn’t know what and he didn’t know how to help
  • So being the person you are, you went over there to try and speak to him
  • It was awkward at first, you had barely spoken in 3 whole years
  • But you wanted to help him so you pushed and pushed
  • Eventually he snapped and and blurts out that he can’t handle his feelings for you anymore
  • You’re taken aback by his confession, which is followed up by a question you dreaded answering
  • With what almost seemed like tears in his eyes, he quietly begged for you to just tell him you still loved him too
  • The only thing he wanted to hear, you couldn’t say
  • He asked you to leave after you told him you didn’t, and you did so without putting up a fight
  • The last thing you wanted to do was make the situation worse
  • For the first time in a long time, Saeran cried himself to sleep
  • He distanced himself from the group slowly, only speaking via Seven
  • But he always kept an eye on you, because even if you didn’t love him, he wanted to keep you safe and happy
  • You were the first person he truly loved, and you would also be the last.

Victor Nikiforov Appreciation Post!!!

I just want to take a moment and talk about how much I love Victor Nikiforov and how he’s just such a refreshing character. I know everyone and their dog has done a post like this already but I’ve been crying over this lovable goof for months and this had been sitting in my drafts for too long now anyway and also I’m avoiding my textbooks AND THIS SORTA TURNED INTO A CHARACTER ANALYSIS I’M SORRY.

So as far back as the PV, there were assumptions flying around that Victor would end up being an antagonist of some sort. That either he was using Yuuri for his own gain, or was just straight up evil. Laughable now, of course, but the reason those rumors were prevalent was because we see it so often. How easy was it to think that Victor was “helping” Yuuri only to further his own goals in the end? We’ve seen this common mentor-betrays-student trope before and it’s no wonder that early on fans were afraid of this even as the show progressed. And honestly? This would have made for some great drama—for Victor to turn out to not be such a nice guy and for him to eventually become someone Yuuri had to defeat in competition. However the show did not go down that route at all. It turns out that yeah, Victor is actually just a really nice guy who cares a great deal about Yuuri and the people around him. He doesn’t show up in Hasetsu with any evil ulterior motives—he just wants to get to know Yuuri and help him take his skating to the next level, and maybe find inspiration (and love) along the way.

Also how could a man with a heart-shaped smile be evil???

(Continued under the cut.)

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swiftiesfanatic  asked:

Amazing imagines!! I love them so much!! ❤❤ I think you've even written enough to start a masterlist soon! If you ever need any ideas/ideas for a rainy day here's a couple. However, please don't feel like I'm expecting you to write all these right now!! It's more of a compiled list of ideas for you if you're having a slow request day/just want to write them -Jealous Betty -Beach day for the gang/Betty in a swimsuit/Jughead in a swimsuit -Bughead napping together -Betty's parents walk in on them

Hey! These are all awesome! I think I’m gonna go with the hickey role reversal for today! Let’s give it a try!
***

School was ending in about a week, and summer was so close Jughead could practically smell the sunscreen and taste the countless milkshakes he would be devouring.
That being said…

It was hot.

And by hot he didn’t mean, warm with a light breeze, he meant crack an egg on it, it was smoking. He was sweating almost all the time and even with the windows open the Riverdale classrooms were boiling. Unfortunately for him that meant his typical wardrobe of flannels and jeans just wasn’t gonna cut it, and he most definitely was not gonna show up to school in one of those ridiculous tank tops with the sleeves cut down all the way to the bottom, he would leave that to Reggie and chuck. Tools.

Anyway, figuring out what to wear, that was still comfortable for him but also kept him cool enough so he didn’t pass out was a struggle. He wasn’t a shorts guy, unless they were bathing suit bottoms and he was at the beach, so he stuck to his jeans, these ones had a few holes so that should help atleast a little, digging in his drawer he pulled out the only light weight t shirt he had, it was a simple white v neck, nothing too crazy, but also something he normally wouldn’t wear without something else to cover it up, at this point he couldn’t care less, it was too damn hot.

“Looking good” he turned with a smile, meeting the eyes of the gorgeous blonde who had come out of nowhere. Okay so maybe there was one positive thing about the heat, Betty’s wardrobe had to adjust accordingly as well and man was he grateful for the tiny dresses that showed off her gorgeous long legs. Today she had on a white sundress covered in pink and red flowers, it skimmed her mid thigh and he fought the urge to run his fingers along the bare skin. As soon as he was about to retort with a witty comeback, her eyes got wide

“Oh my god” she looked horrified.

Whipping around to look behind him, confused as to what had her in such a state of panic she repeated a little more panicky

“Oh my god.”

“Betty? what the hell? What’s the matter?” She seemed to be at a loss for words and suddenly two more of the gang had arrived, both wearing Similar expressions to Bettys.

“What in sexy time?!” Veronica was practically bouncing she seemed so excited.

Kevin was moving his hands to jugheads neck, before he dodged them with a glare

“What are you all talking about.”

Suddenly Archie was rounding the corner zeroing in on Jughead

“Hey ma… hey! Nice hickey dude! Way to go” he slapped a hand to jugheads shoulder, smiling.

“What! What hick..what are you.” He was twisting trying to find the offending mark. He glanced up at Betty who was beet red and was desperately trying to hide her laughter.

“See Betty, I told you. It’s totally normal to give a boy a hickey, That’s so funny, Betty was just asking me about this at our sleepover last week.” Veronica said laughing handing Jughead her hand mirror.

He snatched the mirror and held it up to his neck. Sure enough, there was a purple mouth shaped bruise on his neck. Snapping the mirror shut he shook his head

“Bacon grease, it splattered.”

Everyone eyed him sceptically as Cheryl walked over

“Oh please, like you cook. Just fess up Jughead, who’s the mystery woman?” The redhead asked.

“There’s no one, you’re all nuts.”

The conversation was stopped short by the first period bell.

“Dude, were totally talking about this at lunch,” Archie said grinning

“Duh” Veronica added throwing a wave to Betty, leaving behind Jughead and Betty as Kevin kissed Betty on the cheek before walking off with Cheryl.

There was a moment of silence Betty smirking at her bright red boyfriend

“So… a tshirt today? No flannel.”

He stared at her dryly

“Wait till all of our friends find out what a little minx you are. You won’t be laughing then.”

Betty shrugged, smiling guiltily and turning on her heels to walk the other way , she quickly turned around and added

“No one told you to wear the worlds sexiest tshirt the day after our two month anniversary festivities.”
She winked and practically skipped off.

He slammed his head into the locker gently. She was gonna be the death of him.
**

By the time lunch came around the entire school was talking about Jugheads hickey, the rumors were everywhere,

Jughead was seeing Ethel,

Jughead was seeing a girl from central

And of course, Archie and jughead were a couple (that one was Reggie. Tool.)

Slamming his tray on the table besides Betty, she jumped up smiling and meeting his eyes.

The rest of the gang was already there and they instantly turned the conversation to hickeys.

Cheryl of course instigating it
“Well it has to be someone who’s aggressive, obvi, look at that mark.”

Veronica nodded “agreed. I could never do something that good, and I’ve been told I’m a pretty fiery lover.” She flipped her dark hair , smiling.

Cheryl nodded “and we all know how intense I am, but that’s good, even for me.”

Kevin said something that had Archie practically dying he was laughing so hard.

“And we all know it can’t be Betty, no offense bets but we all kind of agree, your not really the most passionate lover.”

Before Jughead could even think he had opened his mouth “try again, she’s pretty much the definition of passionate.”

Everyone at the table seemed to have stopped time, slowly turning their heads to stare at the pair in front of them. Betty was blushing so hard they thought she might explode and jughead was kind of just lost in his own idiocy.

“B..Betty?” Archie squeaked out.

“No way you’re lying.” This time it was kevin.

And Cheryl and Veronica were just staring, shocked.

Suddenly something in Betty snapped and she turned to Kevin.

“Actually, yes it was me. As quiet as you think I am, I am very very attracted to my boyfriend, therefore sometimes I get carried away. Can we please stop this conversation now.” She stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork.

The table went dead silent for thirty seconds before all hell broke loose.

“Boyfriend?”
“Carried away?!”
“How long?”
“How did you get it in that shape?”

Dropping her head to the table, she sighed as Jugheads arm came to rest around her shoulder, tugging her into his side.

“No questions, were dating, going on two months. That’s all you’ve gotta know.” The lazy tone in his voice left no room for argument and the table went silent once again.

Squeezing his hand in hers, she smiled up at him. This was far from over and they both knew that, but for right now, their friends were just gonna have to wait. They were happy, and that’s what matters.

I am currently very tired so this probably might not even make sense in the morning but… 

I’m imagining a D&D minigame (probably lasts 1-2 hours tops unless you’re having fun with it) meant to break the ice for new groups, in which the DM controls an adventuring party and the players control NPCs as they naturally pop up. Specifically, it could help new players get comfortable with roleplaying without the pressure of sticking to a character they just made. If you do this before the character creation stage, then even better because they may stumble into a character they like acting out.

Rules that I’m just rambling out please forgive me if they are nonsensical: 

  • It’s all improv. Don’t break a scene to look up game mechanics like prices, or which checks to make, or what would give advantage/disadvantage. This is about the acting so if it’ll throw off the groove, make it up on the spot. It’s all about quick thinking.
  • No modifiers. You’re all making things up on the spot so if you have to roll something, don’t waste time justifying who would have what stats. You could even go without dice altogether. The d20 is just an optional element of chance here.
  • Mandatory introductions. I don’t care how goofy it is. state your name, race, class/occupation, a random character trait, and how their day’s been going up until this point. As many as you can off the top of your head. Go nuts because things get silly before they get really creative, in my experience. Note: Character voices are encouraged. For funsies.
  • Everyone participates in a scene. No pressure on how much they interact, but in each new setting, every player has to put one NPC in that tavern, shopping square, riot crowd, etc.
  • Plot not needed. The adventuring party strategically wanders in a way that builds a town/city/etc as the players make it up. The DM isn’t in charge of telling a story here, just keeping the energy of the improv scene going. This includes-
  • Leading Questions. This one’s the challenge for you, DM who likely already has a control complex and likes to plan out every detail of everything in their world because it gives them a sense of security. If anything, you are the one who most needs to be good at rolling with whatever your players hand you. For the sole purposes of making you uncomfortable, the newcomer adventuring party knows absolutely nothing about this town. Thankfully, the citizens know everything about it. Which is good because you need directions to find your way out of your rented hovel room let alone to the temple–oh that’s right. Who’s the patron there? You sure don’t know! Better ask someone! Get that DMs?? YOU KNOW NOTHING. 
    • Important: If the scene starts slowing down, it’s up to you to either encourage and interact with these townsfolk some more, or get moving somewhere else.

Example scene: order of NPC choice is determined by an initiative roll. 

DM: “Alright, so four adventurers walk into the tavern you’re in–”
Player 1: “Oh! I call the bartender.”
Player 3: “Aw… I had a bit I was gonna do.”
Player 1: “Okay, okay fine, I’m the owner of the tavern, Marcus McMuffin the half orc–stop laughing–and uh… I have a tattoo of a dwarf lover that literally no one else knows about? And my day’s been…hm. It’s been awful because I got stood up for a meeting. DM, I basically live in here, so I’d know they’re new, right? I wanna know if these guys look like trouble makers.”
DM: “The Barbarian’s flexing at anyone who looks in his general direction but other than him fancying a typical bar brawl, they seem decent–if lost.”
Player 2: “I’m the elven bard in the corner and I start trying to seduce the Barbarian with my beautiful voice!!”
DM: “Listen… you can’t just use your character from the last game. Cherry the Elven Bard would’ve totally seduced the barbarian but who are you now?… Nah it’s fine, dude. Take your time. We’ll come back to you.”
Player 3: “I’m the crazy old village drunkard who’s a human named Steve–”
Player 1: “I thought you said you wanted the bartender!”
Player 3: “–Who samples a lot of the wares and is thus the village drunkard! I said I was doing a bit, jeez! DM, I start rambling loudly at the strangers about something that sounds like one of those super infuriating sidequests–you know the kind–where you have to go through a lot of bullshit busywork and the longest fetch quest of your life but there’s a promise of GREAT loot at the end so you consider it anyway. You know what I mean? What do I do for that, roll deception? Persuasion?”
DM: “Nope. No rolls. Personally, I am so on board with this but I need you to make this speech right here and I need you to sell it.” 
Player 3: “Oh boy.”

If for some reason you want to try this please give me a rundown of how it went because I feel like it’s the perfect recipe for hilarious trainwrecks that come with all good icebreakers. (I feel like it’d be a fun drinking game somehow? But I don’t play enough to know how to work alcohol in in a reasonable manner. I’ll leave that one up to house rules.)

Taverns & Tanneries, never coming to a game store near you lmao

Edit: I just realized that when the group starts playing a real campaign, you can embarrass them by working their goofily-named NPCs in, keeping an entirely straight face while doing so. Watch as they squirm and laugh-cry over having to discuss the fate of the world with Marcus McMuf’an. If only they’d known. 

If only they’d known what was to become of Marcus McMuffin.

This fic has been on my chest for days and I’m so glad that it’s finally done!

Anyway, this is based on @kaxpha‘s lost lance au and I was so excited to write this, the au has taken over my life no kidding. It also has a second part and you can find it here on @bleusarcelle‘s blog.

I’m very proud of how this came out(for now at least) :’)

I hope you’ll like it! <3


Keith hears the moment when Shiro takes in a shaky breath as the two of them and the rest of the guests watch Allura walks down the aisle. She stands tall and proud, a big smile on her face but when she meets Keith’s eyes for a few moments, he can see the storm of emotions that they hide.

He gives her an encouraging smile before her eyes move on to Shiro. The moments their gazes lock it’s like something shifts in the room: the mood, the quiet, the air. Keith isn’t sure what changes, but it feels like a relieved sigh. It feels like Allura is saying you’re here, like Shiro is agreeing iIm here, it feels like both of them are realizing we’re here and this is happening and i’ve never been more happy before.

Keep reading

alaeevolare  asked:

Hello! I was wondering, what are the differences between modern HEMA and how it was used in actual combat? Mainly in how it is/was taught, the way that techniques are/were used, small battles/skirmishes and fully fledged battles. I'm currently drawing from my own experiences with HEMA (longsword) and I know it's different but I'm not sure what all of those differences are, much less how to write them. Thank you!

Honestly, the best advice I have for that is slogging through the treatises from the masters on Wikitenaur or other sites/books that let you get it direct from the horse’s mouth (as it were). If you’re not a trained scholar or used to going through language from a century ago, much less several, I can see how parsing that might be a little difficult.

The second thing to do is study the historical period in which you want to write your fiction or, if writing fantasy, whatever is adjacent. When you want to write any kind of combat scenario, studying the culture is necessary. Whether that’s one you created yourself or history itself.

You’ve got better access to the HEMA community than Starke or I do and that springboard will make it easier to find what you’re looking for. It’s important to remember that what you’re practicing right now is what we conventionally term a “dead martial art”. Like aikido and several other martial arts now enjoying a popular resurgence, the current version did not really exist in the last century. Combat in Europe moved very quickly, rapid advancement lead to many old weapons being discarded that were no longer usable. German fencing was the only form of longsword fencing to survive, and it too is weighed down by rules unnecessary to the time when the longsword was a battlefield choice. Luckily for you, because HEMA itself is so new in its reconstruction, you’re actually far closer to the source material used to revive it than you might suspect.

If you haven’t broached this subject with your instructor, you should. They might know, or know somebody who knows something that can point you in a better direction. They work with the people who work with the people who are theorizing on the past and how to bring this piece of history back to life.

The other thing you need to do is study history. One of the things we do have a lot of surviving records of are historical battles. Lots, and lots, and lots of records.

Pick your medieval historical figure. Pick a period in history. And get to work.

Also, read Sun Tzu. If there is one great historical text for understanding warfare, it’s Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.

Battles are really broken down by three groups:

Culture.

Technology.

Terrain.

I’d throw in strategy and tactics but those are under the culture header. To write battles, you need both an understanding of historical warfare and the ability to contextualize those decisions so you can have your characters make new ones. This means figuring out not just the thought processes of the people of history (theorized by gaining a better grasp of their circumstances), but also how your own characters think in relation to the world’s they live in.

Unless you’re writing historical fiction, you can’t just copy the battles from history wholesale. You have to learn how the decisions were made. This is why I recommend looking at the above groups.

Culture

Who they are as a people, their history, who they are descended from, how they see themselves, their commander’s experience with warfare, what kind of armies do they possess (if any at all), how does that work, how do they form supply lines, how do they pay for it, all that annoying bureaucratic minutia which will kill your brain but must be figured out. War is about troop movements. You’ve got to get them from Point A to Point B somehow, you’ve got ensure their fed, and if they’ve got mounts or armor all that has to come from somewhere. War is an expensive endeavor. Someone is paying for it. Where does the money come from, where does it go, and who is getting paid?

This is why strategy and tactics land under the cultural header, the more you dig into history the more you’ll find different cultures through different eras approached these problems differently. They also had different tools at their disposal which brings us to…

Technology

Technology encompasses your weapons, your armor, and, well, everything else that came to mind. Much as you need to know where your soldiers come from, you also need to know what tools they have at their disposal. If they haven’t mastered metalwork and smithing then they can’t have armor and the type of metal they work with defines what kind of armor they create. If they haven’t developed saddles then they don’t have mounted cavalry, if they haven’t figured out how to use horses to pull things then chances are they don’t have cavalry in the form of chariots either.

The same is true of the bow and every other kind of weapon available. Your tools define crucial parts of your tactics and strategy. They define what is available to use and what is available instructs us on how we fight. As the options narrow and you find your historical period, the tools will be easier to come by. Then, you’ll be able to envisage the battles better.

Warfare is complicated, but at its base is the element of rock, paper, scissors. You develop B, so I come up with X, to counter B, and then you develop Y to counter X. It is all about trying to develop new ways to counter the available options.

You brought foot soldiers to the battle, I guess this is what you’ll choose so I array my soldiers at your front and position cavalry behind to break your lines from the side or rear. You use pikes, position your soldiers in columns in order to break my cavalry’s charge or bring a cavalry of your own (or both). I position archers to bombard your lines with a barrage, and so on.

If you really have trouble with the concept then I recommend trying some good war games like Mount and Blade or the Total War series that help you see the battlefield visually and get some practice in arranging your troops.

However, in order to sell your tactics, you need…

Terrain

What kind of environment are you fighting in? What is your target? What natural impediments are in the way? You can study Hannibal’s battle tactics against the Romans all you like, but if you ignore the fact that most of his elephants died on the march through the mountains then you’ll miss a crucial element to why he lost.

Woodland?

Marshland?

Flatland?

Valley?

Mountains?

Desert?

Jungle?

Summer?

Winter?

Spring?

Fall?

Snowstorm?

Rainstorm?

Heatwave?

The conditions you fight in can make or break. Terrain defines how the troops are arranged. If you’re fighting on foreign soil then it can be the difference as to whether your tools will be of any use to you.

Some of it is flat out just luck.

The best way to learn to write battles is learning to think like a commander, and then follow that up with every other member of the army.

When it comes to historical fiction, I always recommend Sharon Kay Penman’s novels. They’re well regarded and well researched, providing some human context to what will inevitably be the dry reading of historical texts.

-Michi

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anonymous asked:

I'm sure this will be answered in canon at some point, but for now, do you have any thoughts on Haggar's deal?

I mean, that’s a pretty general topic here.

I think the main mysteries behind Haggar right now are:

  • What caused her to break with Altea the way she did?
  • Who was she before that?
  • What is she to Zarkon?
  • Why is she so abnormally, terrifyingly powerful- and is that a common thread between her and Allura?
  • What happened to her face marks- were they always like that? They’re a completely different color and shape from the rest of the Alteans, which is peculiar considering the fact that both Coran and Allura have their marks as infants would tell us it’s biological.

At this point, I have some theories, but one of the main ones is: I think that Haggar at some point saved Zarkon’s life.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Ok I'm trying to keep hope, so what if Kara is really only getting with Mon-El so that she can deny and push down her feelings for Lena? Bc if not the idek what to think just I really hope that's all it is.

Oh honey, the Swan Queen fandom has been doing this for years, and it is a beautiful and clever and necessary coping mechanism. Here. Enjoy.

Alex calls for an emergency Sisters’ Night. In fact, she demands it.

And Kara is excited, because Rao, does she need to talk to Alex. And Rao, does she need to hear Alex talk, because so much is going on with Maggie, and with her lab work to find Jeremiah, and with J’onn missing M’gann, and with just… everything.

But even more than talking, Kara just wants to snuggle on the couch with her big sister.

So when Alex lets herself into her apartment and Maggie trails in apologetically behind her, Kara bristles.

She adjusts her glasses and she forces a smile. “Hey Maggie,” she strains, reminding herself sternly that Maggie has been through so much, that Maggie was just retraumatized, that Maggie is probably going to be her sister-in-law one day, so might as well start attending Sisters’ Nights now, right?

But Alex is throwing up her hands and taking Kara by the shoulders, because she knows her sister, and she knows the war that’s raging in her head, in her heart.

“So, Kara, I lied. I want to do Sisters’ Night, just you and me. Because Sisters’ Night will always just be for us. But, tomorrow. Not tonight. I lied, and I’m sorry about that, but I was afraid you’d tell us not to come over if I told you…”

Kara backs away from Alex and furrows her brow.

“If you told me what?”

“We’re worried about you, Kara,” Maggie chimes, and holds out a bag of potstickers that Kara hadn’t noticed before, and Kara snatches them with narrowed eyes and a suspicious glare.

She sits down with a grunt and begrudgingly nods her sister and her sister’s girlfriend to do the same. Alex and Maggie exchange a glance, and it’s like they can read each other’s minds, they work together so seamlessly.

Kara feels a stab of something like jealousy, but she knows it’s not about Alex. She’s purely happy for Alex. It’s about something else, something different. Something that she hopes against hope that Alex an Maggie aren’t going to try to make her talk about, because Rao, she doesn’t know how she can handle it if they do.

She tears into the potstickers and blinks. “So, what are you worried about?”

Maggie and Alex exchange that glance again, and Alex leans forward and puts her hand on Kara’s knee.

“Kara, you know I respect you. And I respect your judgment, and I respect your heart. I love what a big heart you have. It’s what makes you a hero. But Kara, I…”

“You’re getting with Mon-El, Little Danvers, even though you really kind of seem to hate him, and that’s… we’re worried about you, Kara. Not because we don’t think you can handle yourself, or because we don’t respect your decisions, but because I… we… we know what it’s like to be with someone because you feel like you have to, not because you really want to.”

Kara nearly chokes on a potsticker, and Alex thumps her back mechanically, her eyes fixed on her sister’s face.

“That’s ridiculous,” she splutters when she finally swallows. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything, I’m Supergirl, I – ”

“Well, Mon-El doesn’t seem to respect that, and you don’t seem to think he does, either.”

“I’ve never told you anything like – what are you talking about, I – ”

“Kara,” Maggie says, her voice soft and her voice full of understanding pain, mixed with the beginnings of ironic humor. “The entire DEO heard you yelling at him. And lemme tell you, for secret agents, your people are pretty terrible at, you know. Keeping secrets.”

Alex mock-glares at Maggie before leveling Kara with a look of significant concern.

“Oh please, Detective, it’s not like any of that was a secret. Kara was shouting what a misogynist, unsupportive, manipulative, disrespectful, gaslighting, mansplaining – ”

“Nice new vocab, Danvers.”

“Thanks babe, I’m trying.”

“Alex, I – ”

“Oh, I’m sorry Kara, did you want me to stop that list?” Alex’s tone, the way she’s caressing Kara’s face, is much softer than her words. “Because I don’t have to. I have more, and they all seem to have come from your mouth in one way or another – ”

“Alex – ”

“And I love you, Kara. I love you, more than anything, more than life itself, so here’s the thing I can’t understand: why are you throwing yourself at this guy when he spends every waking minute trying to stomp all over the powerful woman that you are? It would be like me actually going for Max Lord or something – ”

“You and Maxwell Lord were a thing?”

“Ew, god, no, which is exactly why I can’t understand what you’re thinking, Kara.”

“And she’s not blaming you, Little Danvers, no one’s angry at you – ”

“No, Maggie’s right, I’m not, I just – ”

“We’re just worried, Kara. Your sister loves you, and I’m growing to love you, a lot, and hell, even J’onn asked us – and believe you me, it was as awkward as it sounds – if we could talk to you to make sure you’re really okay, because this is… we’re worried about you, Kara. So are you? Okay?”

Maybe it’s something in Maggie’s soft eyes, or maybe it’s the way Alex is stroking her hair, or maybe it’s the way they’re both going through so much of their own struggles right now, but they’re making it a point to check in with her. Or maybe it’s all of it, everything, the way his hands were too fast and his tongue too eager, the way he’s an okay guy, she supposes, but as a wayward brother or something, not as a lover, but she was so worn down and she’s just so tired and maybe it’s everything, all of it, because Kara breaks.

She breaks into her sister’s arms and immediately she feels the walls of Alex’s love rise up around her, protecting her from all her enemies, protecting her from herself.

Immediately she hears Maggie kneel down in front of the sisters, in front of her Danvers girls, a hand on Alex’s knee and a hand hovering over the small of Kara’s back until Kara nods through her sobbing that Maggie can touch her, of course Maggie can touch her, because god it feels good to be held by two women who love her for exactly who she is, not for what they imagine her to be, what they wish she were.

“I’m so…” She gasps wildly for breath and Alex kisses her forehead, smoothes her hair, rocks her, rocks her, rocks her. “I’m so scared, Alex,” she chokes through her gasping, through her tears.

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Kara. I love you, I love you, shhhhh. Cry it out, Kara, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here, always. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

Tears bite at Alex’s eyes, and she glances down across Kara’s body to meet Maggie’s, and she’s almost surprised to see tears gleaming in Maggie’s eyes, as well, and she knows it’s not the time, but she also knows, beyond doubt, that she’s in love with her.

Kara grabs at the back of Alex’s sweater and is forcibly reminded of when Cat grabbed at the back of Supergirl’s suit – her suit – and it’s suddenly all too much, suddenly all needs to come out, no matter how scared she is.

Suddenly, she knows she needs to dive.

“I didn’t want to, Alex, I didn’t want to because you were just coming out and I’ve taken so much from you, so much attention, for so many years, I didn’t want to do it again – ”

“Kara, it’s okay, everything’s okay. I’m not angry, I’m not going to be angry, but what… what are you talking about?”

Alex’s face is a map of compassionate confusion and Maggie’s face is a map of compassionate realization, and she glances at Alex because here we go again.

“I was in love with James, so… so in love with him,” Kara gasps, and Maggie nods slowly, and Alex just tries to keep up as she wipes Kara’s running nose with the tissue Maggie passes her.

“And kissing him was nice, it was… he was lovely, he is lovely, and I love him, I do, but it… it didn’t feel… ka-pow.”

Alex smiles uncomprehendingly but supportively, and Maggie smiles knowingly, and they both rub soothing circles onto Kara’s skin as she gathers the courage to continue.

“And I didn’t understand it, I didn’t have to words for it, but then… but then you came out and I was doing research, for you, and I found… I found out that you can be in love, straight love, but not want to have sex with men, be asexual towards men, even though you can be in love with them… and that you can… you can also… at the same time…”

She glances down at Maggie, and Maggie nods slowly at her, a small smile on her lips, because like sister like sister.

“You can also like girls. Women. Romantically. And even sexually.”

Comprehension starts to dawn on Alex’s face now, too, and she gets flashes of Kara spending so many nights crying when Cat left National City, of her terror when Livewire got loose again, because Livewire had tried, so hard, to kill Cat.

Of Kara adjusting her glasses a bit extra whenever Lena came up in conversation.

Of Kara steadfastly refusing to lose faith in Lena, even when everything looked, well, grim.

Of Kara’s desperation to find her. Of her more-than-just-everyday-heroics willingness to die for her. Of her beautifully, passionately written article vindicating her.

“Kara,” is all Alex says, all Alex can say, as she pulls her little sister in closer, closer, closer.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Kara chokes, pushing back, pushing away, so she can look Alex in the face. “I don’t want to take attention away from your coming out, I don’t… I don’t even know what to label it all, I just know that I… I’m so scared that if I…”

“If you don’t throw yourself into the most easily available thing – if you don’t surrender to the guilt he’s putting you through – you’ll have to confront your feelings for Lena Luthor,” Maggie supplies softly, softly, because Kara is shaking so badly, and Maggie knows that look, knows when someone needs to hear the words before they can say them themselves, and sure enough, when Maggie says it, Kara stops trembling quite so much, and her tears become of the silent variety, and she nods, nods, nods.

“Please don’t be mad,” she whispers to Alex, and Alex does nothing but shake her head and kiss her face, tears and snot and all.

“Kara, listen to me. I need you to really listen, and I need…” She glances down at Maggie as she cups Kara’s cheeks in her hands, and Maggie gives her a small smile. “I need you to really hear me. I would never, ever, ever be mad at you for loving whoever you love. However you love them. Because whoever you love, and whatever kind of love it is, whatever kind of intimacy you want with them? That’s absolutely fine. It’s absolutely perfect. You’re absolutely fine. You’re absolutely perfect. And I would never be angry at you, or disappointed in you, or resentful toward you, for being who you are. I promise. Alright?”

Kara shudders and smiles and reaches for the last of the potstickers.

Alex chuckles and Maggie laughs and Kara chews with a bashful smile.

“Will you help me break up with him? I still care about him, as a person – ”

“We both will, Kara. Whatever you need.”

“You got it, Little Danvers.”

“And then… then maybe you can help me talk to Lena?”

Alex groans with a smile and Maggie laughs and puts both hands on Kara’s thighs as she stands up to slip onto her girlfriend’s mock-traumatized lap.

“Of course we will, Little Danvers. Of course we will.”

anonymous asked:

now that i know you like his dark materials... how bout a tfc au daemon style? i've been thinking about it for months and i want nay need it in my life. think of andreil. cause i did and i'm in tears

this is just a little bit because otherwise i’m liable to never stop

Sin settles later than most.

Having a distinctive daemon is somehow less obvious than having one that no one ever sees.  All kinds of kids have peacocks, grizzly bears and cobras - they shift week-to-week, about as permanent as the wind.  If not for his mother, Neil would wear Sin against his skin every day as something tiny.  But that would be obvious, so instead her name changes almost as much as her form.

It’s not until Mary dies that she finally does settle.  Neil looks away from the car, dazzled by firelight, and finds silvery speckled fur with jet-black points and reddish eyes the same colour as Nathaniel Wesninski’s hair.  Just like that, he knows she won’t shift again.

He wants to run and leave her behind.  Instead, the first night they’re alone when he’s finally holed up somewhere safe enough to sleep, he presses his face into her coat and says her name like a prayer.

Jacinth.  

“Shh,” she replies, voice rusty and weary as Neil feels. Like she’s remembering Mary’s lessons, you’re Alex-Stefan-whatever and nothing else, with the ferocity that Neil stills feels the echo of blood-deep.

Tomorrow, he’ll be someone else again. So will she. But he can’t resist the little kernel of truth that is her true name in his mouth.


Sin laughs sharply when they read about Kevin Day joining the Foxes. Irony, she says, her teeth on show.

She isn’t laughing when Wymack comes for them.

“It’s almost meant to be,” he says, gesturing to her where she’s poised at Neil’s feet. The tension in her body is more obvious than it is in Neil’s, every muscle tight with it.  “Need a pen?”

“No,” Neil replies. “I’m not playing for you. You’re wasting your time.”

Wymack taps at the side of his head like he’s not sure his ears are working right. Beside him, his daemon tilts her head. “I misheard you.”

“You signed Kevin.” It sounds like a non sequitur. It’s not – this is a death sentence that the Fox coach is asking him to sign.

“And Kevin’s signing you-”

Neil bolts, leaving him and Hernandez behind in a clatter of metal under the soles of his shoes. There’s no pull from Sin, because she’s right at his heels.

Graduating high school means nothing if he dies within the year. Forget it – he’ll leave tonight, outrunning Kevin and all of his other ghosts.

Except he’s too slow. Halfway through the locker room he realises he isn’t alone, but it’s already too late.

It’s like he hits a brick wall, gasping and suddenly unable to go another step forwards.  For a second he doesn’t realise what has happened – then he hears Sin gasp his name.  

“Better luck next time,” comes a voice from behind Neil. He can’t look to see who it belongs to, his eyes caught on Sin as she struggles in the jaws of another daemon.

“Let her go,” he says, dropped to one knee and not even sure how he got there. The crawl of pain that feels like teeth in the back of his neck is overwhelming, all-consuming.

“Oh, no, no,” the voice says. “We came all this way for you. It’s no fun if you run off ten minutes into our meeting. Your coach was right though - you’re quick.”

There’s the sound of feet on the floor, and Wymack and his coyote daemon appear in the doorway with Hernandez behind them. Wymack says, “God damn it, Minyard!”

“We didn’t break them, Coach,” the voice replies. “Effective, no? Not even a bruise.”

“Let go of her,” Neil repeats, finally managing to turn his head away from Sin to the owner of the voice. Andrew Minyard is familiar thanks to Neil’s reading habits, a broad grin across his face and his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Now, Andrew,” Wymack says.

Andrew gestures to his daemon. “What, you can’t ask her?”

She doesn’t look particularly interested in reasonable argument. She probably outweighs Neil, and even with her head held low she’s nearly a metre tall. She’s a spotted hyena, roughed-coated and powerful and slavering around her grip on Sin’s coat.

Smiling still, Andrew says, “Amaranth.” His daemon spits Sin out at last, so she lands in a heap on the floor. A second later, she bolts for Neil – he opens his arms for her, and then she’s in them, clasped close enough that he feels like he could push her inside of his chest.

It’s not the first time she’s been grabbed by another daemon. All of those memories drag at Neil as he holds her spit-damp, quivering body against him.

“Are you okay?” Wymack asks them, as his daemon puts herself between them and Amaranth. Amaranth nips at her tail and laughs at the snap she gets in response, the sound bright and horrendous and all animal against the backdrop of the locker room.

All the articles talk about Andrew and his bright drugged smile – they don’t mention the effect on his daemon. Or maybe the madness is a pre-existing condition.

“I’m fine,” Neil replies. “I’m leaving.”

Except he isn’t. Except, he doesn’t. Instead he leaves campus in the dark, with Sin curled around his neck, the contract weighing down his bag, and Andrew Minyard’s mocking words echoing in his ears along with his daemon’s laughter. 

Happy early Valentine’s Day! This is for @whimsyalice as part of @aftgexchange!!! Yay!!! I wanted to include all your fave ships/characters, so this is more Foxes nonsense than ships! Hope you enjoy! :) 

Use this post for reference

It starts on a Monday. The locker room is a cacophony of chattering voices as the Foxes all arrive for afternoon practice, everyone still thrumming with excitement from Friday night’s win. Neil follows the group in and past the lounge. Allison and Renee have their arms linked and heads bowed together as they make their way into the girls’ changing room. Dan and one of the freshman girls are close behind them, not even pausing their lively conversation as they disappear behind the door. Andrew pushes past the door for the men’s changing room, Neil behind him. Matt and Nicky are hot on their heels and arguing about some television show as Neil makes his way to his locker.

“I’m telling you,” Nicky says. “He’s dead.”

“No way!” Matt argues. “He’s gonna pop up next season. You’ll see.”

“Are you sure we watched the same episode?”

“They can’t just kill off a fan favorite like that!”  

Neil tunes them both out and spins the combination into his locker lock. When he pulls the door open, something falls out and clatters to the floor. There’s a moment where Neil’s heart stutters to a painful halt in his chest, his breath clogging up his throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind, memories he’s long buried try to sink their claws back in. He has to close his eyes for a moment before he can focus again. Neil slowly looks down only to find a plastic knife at his feet. He blinks a few times in confusion before reaching down and picking it up. He turns it over in his hand and sees Justin Mattews scrawled in sharpie across the handle. As far as threats go, this one definitely makes the least amount of sense. Neil gives his brain another minute to come up with a possible explanation, but when it comes up blank, he holds the plastic knife out towards Andrew in a silent question.

“Neil! What’re you doing? You’re not supposed to tell anyone who you have!” Nicky exclaims from across the row of lockers.

“Murder season is finally upon us,” Matt says. “Let the chaos begin and may the best person win.”

Keep reading

Fred Imagine 4

Request: happy v-day!! could you do a fred x reader imagine where the reader is harrys older sister so she’s also a target for voldemort and fred and george are assigned by the order to keep them safe at school and angst and fluff? ily thanks!! (btw I luv ur blog as well!

alright!! I’m so sorry it’s been a week I’ve had SO MUCH WORK TO DO AH!! thursday is mardi gras break and I’m going skiing with my bff for all 10 days of it but i will try to start on my other requests and do some ships!! please be patient I'm trying my best :) !


“-she needs someone to watch her!”

“Now, Harry, your sister can take care of herself,” Sirius was attempting to calm your bother.

“You know what,” Fred interjected, “I agree with Harry! Y/n is just as valuable to You-Know-Who as Harry is! We all know if he gets a hold of her Harry would be going to save her before anyone could even say ‘Dumbledore’s underwear!’”

You stood up angrily, “Don’t I get a say in this?!”

Sirius, Tonks, Remus, Arthur, Molly, Hermione, Fred, George, Harry, Ginny, Snape, and Ron all turned to look at you and the room fell silent.

“Like Sirius said,” you began slowly, Sirius winking at you when you said his name, “I can very well take care of myself, thank you. And I’m not going to let some noseless arsehole get in the way of my education!”

“I have to agree with you about that, y/n,” Hermione said with a slight chuckle, “but maybe it would be better if there was someone who might keep a look out. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, aren’t they?”

You sighed and sat down, your best friend was always right, wasn’t she?

“Look y/n,” your little brother began, “I just can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me, especially you.”

“Harry,” you looked up at him, “I’m the one that’s supposed to be looking after you! Bloody hell, your my little brother!”

“I know but-”

“What if Fred and I just watched out while we were at school together?” George proposed.

“Yeah,” Fred added, “We could keep Harry and the Order updated on anything suspicious at Hogwarts and watch out for y/n. We always hang out together anyways.”

You looked at Harry for his response.

“Okay,” he said, looking relieved.

Fred and George smirked at each other before walking towards you. You groaned.

“Oh, now, now, y/n,” Fred ‘comforted’ you.

“Don’t be so blue,” George grabbed your shoulders.

“Think of all the fun you’ll have with your babysitters!”

“Oh, no no no,” you shook your head, sliding out of George’s grip to face the twins, “This,” you pointed back and forth between them and you, “is not a babysitting gig. You are simply there to make sure I don’t die. Got it?”

“Oh, yeah,” they nodded in mock seriousness and then grinned at one another.


“Shit!” You cursed as your books flew out of your arms onto the ground. The back of your head felt like it was about to make contact wit the stairs when you felt strong arms wrap around you and lift you up. 

You opened your eyes to see the one and only, Fred Weasley.

“Ugh, Weasley, what are you doing,” you shoved him off, going to get your books. 

For the past week and a half, every time anything, anything at all, happened, Fred and George were there to swoop in and save the day (more Fred than George).

Forgot your Charms homework? Fred has it right here.

Wiping your mouth after eating cereal? Why would you when George is here?

Doing you hair for the day? Your very own personal stylist Fred Weasley is ready to make you the envy of every single girl at Hogwarts. 

Brushing your teeth? Nonsense! Fred will take care of it!

Honestly, it was getting very annoying. 

“What?” Fred said, almost amused, it seemed, “it is our job to take care of you.”

“I’m not a child, though,” you shot back.

Normally you would do anything to have your crush, Fred, at your beck and call, but it was so over the top and irritating! 

“I know, I know,” he assured you, “but Harry would kill us if his sister was forced to walk to Potions all alone,” he added a mischievous wink.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself from blushing, “Whatever.”

You were just about to enter the Potions room when Fred pulled you aside and into a small room off the side of the hall.

“Fred! What the f-”

“Shhhh!” he put a hand over your mouth. 

Fred pulled out of his pocket an extendable ear, a new gadget he and George were working on for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

“Listen,” he whispered as you watched the ear slide under the door and presumably to Snape’s room.

“-you may kill the girl, but Harry Potter is for me,” your heart stopped at the chilling voice.

“Yes, my lord,” Snape’s dull voice responded.

“Is that….” you began.

Fred nodded in response.

“However,” Snape began, “We could use her as leverage, who knows the lengths Harry Potter would go to to save his… poor sister.”

“Very intriguing, Severus. Tell me-”

Fred had dragged you out of the closet and through the halls and you had’t even noticed. Pretty soon you were sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor Common room with Fred pacing in front of you.

“We have to tell the Order right away. I mean, Snape? Severus Snape? I knew he was an arsehole but honestly! I mean-” Fred looked at you and sighed, sitting next to you, “Are you okay?”

You sat for a moment and then gave a short laugh, “No I’m not okay! I just listened to the person who killed my parents practically plan my murder!”

“Hey it’s-”

“No!” you shouted, getting up, “Don’t you dare say it’s okay because we all now it’s not! My life means nothing to them, and they will come and get me and you know Harry will be the first to try and save me and it’ll be my fault if He succeeds!” 

You were talking so fast you had run out of breath. You took a shaky breath and ran your fingers through your hair. 

Fred pulled you into a hug. 

“You know,” he whispered, “If anything happened I don’t think Harry would be the first to go after you.”

“No?” You questioned.

“It would be me.”

You closed the space in between your faces and kissed.

After a moment you pulled apart. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

“Okay.”

anonymous asked:

I know sketchyy-pencil makes fan art for the ship and well... I'm an angst whore D: can you please make an angst one shot where she cheats on you or something... To tie it with mysme lets pretend she is Jaehee and you are MC lmao

Fuck MC and Jaehee this story is about me and @sketchyy-pencil ( also if you want to send HCS for the ship I guess you can since this was really easy for me to write lmao) 


I never knew life would treat me this way. My life was actually looking great; I had an angel as a S/O, my job was amazing and I was finally happy. Hah. Life’s a bitch. I never knew taking my love to dinner would actually turn into the worst night of my life. During our dinner conversation I noticed she seemed distant. Hell she’s been distant for months. I thought it was her job stressing her out so I made sure everything was in place: having the apartment cleaned, making sure we have everything ready, and having a hot meal waiting for her. Yeah it was hard working and taking care of our home but she was worth it. She was worth my blood sweat and tears. She use to enjoy my cooking till gradually, she stopped eating my food. I already ate don’t worry or I’m not hungry  was the constant excuses she gave me. One night I even decided to run her a bubble bath but she yelled at me saying I was too nice to her. Her words did hurt me but I didn’t pay attention to it because I knew she was stressed. I didn’t pay much attention to her because at the time, I didn’t want our arguments to escalate.

During dinner, I remembered I asked her how was work and she simply took a sip of wine and told me “ I’m in love with someone else”. My heart stopped beating because I looked into her eyes and I knew she was telling the truth. I continue eating my food and told her to answer my question and she did. We didn’t talk much after. We finally made it to our driveway and I went to her side of the door and opened it for her like I always had. Now we are sitting on the couch acting as strangers. I was speechless because I was still trying to comprehend those six words that caused agony within me. I took a deep breath and looked at the floor “ How long was this going on? I won’t get mad at you I promise” I whispered. She ran her fingers through her hair like she always does when she’s nervous “ For 5 months now” she sighed. I cleared my throat and laid down at the couch “ I hope the person makes you really happy. You deserve all the happiness in the world my angel. I love you so much that I prefer your happiness over mine. So I understand why you cheated on me. I was no longer your happiness. I’m sorry for not being enough” my voice hitched.

I felt her eyes pierce through my skin and she started to cry while punching my shoulder “Why aren’t you crying ! Why are you not ha-hating me! Please hate m-me! You were enough you were more than enough! Fucking hate me! Tell me off!! Say you never want to see me again!! ” she screeched. I just laughed while she was hitting me. I finally looked into those beautiful eyes again “There is no point in hitting me angel. Your words already hurt me enough to where a bullet won’t even do shit to me. I might as well add that I can never hate you. I respect and love you so much that my ass will support you in every decision you made. I told you from the beginning, I will stand by your side even if you make the wrong choice. Even if it means you loving someone else.” I uttered. I stood up from the couch and kneeled between her. I grabbed her hands and gently kissed it for the last time. I closed my eyes for a quick second and I felt hot tears rolling down my face. I gazed into her eyes “ I need to know one thing. Just one thing. When did you stop loving me?” I managed to say. It’s easy to see her emotions through her eyes. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and it took all the strength that I had to not wipe her tears away. That was no longer my job no more. She decided to pick someone else for the job and that caused pain to ache into my bones. I felt her fingers try to wipe my tears but I slapped her hand away from my face. Her breath hitched “I ne-never stopped loving you” she whispered ever so gently. Her eyes were telling me the truth but I knew her heart was lying to her mind “Bullshit. You don’t hurt the people you love” I hissed. Tears were caressing her face ever so lightly. She grabbed my hand and forced her fingers to interlock with mine. She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it every so gently. I took my hand away from her and held her hand to my heart, “Remember way back then when we first started talking, you were so hard yet so easy to figure out. Your eyes showed me your soul and it captured my heart. You were my heaven and hell. I’m curious though, do you remember that long message I sent you because you teased me that I couldn’t be sweet?” I mentioned. She laughed and it sounded like angels singing to my ears. She nodded while cleaning her eyes. I fixed her hair because it was covering her face “I still mean every word from it” I stuttered while I got up and kissed her forehead.

She gave me a puzzled look while I went and grabbed a suitcase to pack all my clothes and belongings. It was a half hour later till I had my suitcases at the front door. She told to that she wanted to leave and I told her that I didn’t want to stay because I didn’t want to be surrounded by memories of her. She sat down at the couch and I went to her and outlined a cross to her forehead “I hope God gives you many more blessings and I hope you are happy with your new life and love” I said. She looked at me with fresh tears in her eyes and there was a lump in my throat. I was ready to leave but I stopped and looked back “I will never know where we went wrong but there is one thing that I know” I whimpered. I walked closer to her and I put my hand inside my right pocket taking out a blue velvet small box. I opened it revealing the engagement ring and placed it on the table in front of her. I examined the living room once last time and my eyes finally laid on hers “ I was suppose to give it to you after dinner. It doesn’t belong to me. It was meant for you so you can do whatever you want with it. Thank you. It was an honor having my heart broken by you” I said while tears were running down my eyes. I gave her one last look and walked away.

Goodbye my love.

Extra Angsty Bonus:

I ran down the stairs with the little belongings I had. I heard my name being yelled by her but I kept going down the stairs faster. I finally reached the lobby but she took the elevator and she tried to stop me from leaving. She went on her knees begging me to stay but I pushed her off me and told her to never put her pride down for anyone. I ran through the double doors and made my way through the streets. The cold air was burning my throat and I decided to look back at her for one last time but suddenly everything turned black…..

anonymous asked:

It's my birthday and I'm wondering if it'd be possible for you to write an ultra small piece of the big three hanging out at the Watch tower? Make them tired and/or drunk (that's nearly not possible but… work with me lmao). From Batman's or whomever's point of view you wish!

It’s after two in the morning for the East Coast but the Watchtower’s facing the sun, radiation washing virtually every surface if not for the almost spotlessly invisible protective glass that makes you feel like you’re in open space, and Alfred, he thinks with a smile, would probably find it mildly funny that the AI responsible for the up-keeping of the station is called Pennyworth. The original name was PJH-B but after everyone started jokingly calling out to ‘Pennyworth’ and after PJH-B started replying, Bruce took the very silent liberty of changing the code and replacing it with A-Penny. No one would go looking, no one would ever know, but every time A-Penny finished its duties at the end of the day, the small notification that read A-Penny has clocked out for the night brought the same smile to his face.

“It’s funny,” Diana says and it comes out as a slight drawl, even though it’s still more elegant than anyone has ever managed. The glass in her hands reflects the sun and the tablet’s surface turns into a mural. “We drink now… for no reason. But we didn’t drink for Bruce’s birthday a month ago.”

They were too busy picking up the slack after New York had almost been completely demolished on Clark’s birthday and, anyway, they still made time to quickly check in with him while he visited his parents back in Smallville. Aside from quick remarks the Wayne family in Gotham had be used to accommodate on February 19th, however, no celebration had been prepared for Bruce Wayne’s birthday, part of it possibly because Mr. Wayne had reportedly been seen celebrating on his own on some private island away from the city. The media wasn’t sure which island but they had intel about the specific drink combinations consumed, so it had to be accurate intel. Alfred wasn’t new at this, after all.

“I don’t know about that. Stopping an alien invasion…,” Clark pauses. “Again. Seems like a good reason to celebrate.”

The almost finished bottle is dark green and the liquid inside as clear as water. Someone’s someone brought it as a present for the team at Hal’s birthday party because someone’s someone’s planet was famous for their heavenly brew and brew, Bruce thinks, ended up being just a synonym for booze. He knew, of course, because he had analyzed every single component before even allowing it to be stored anywhere near the Justice League’s headquarters, but the ever so slight dizziness he keeps telling himself he hasn’t had for the last ten minutes indicates this wasn’t just alien booze. This was strong alien booze.

“So how come Batman,” Clark starts and the last word comes out as an inside joke between the three of them, too grandiose and holding myth to be real, “can’t get drunk easily?”

“Because Batman,” Diana continues with the same tone, “is desensitized to anything that might compromise his judgment.”

And it’s true, and Bruce silently agrees, and he doesn’t say how this is funny to him. He should be desensitized to alcohol but a year has passed and League business has taken up most of his time and Scarecrow with his chemicals are scheming silently somewhere away from Gotham and Alfred keeps swapping his glasses with ginger ale during parties and, if he’s completely honest, he’d probably still get that headache he’s not admitting to even if the glass in front of him was filled with nothing more than watered-down beer.

Pennyworth, his mind slips back. Make a note with Pennyworth to start alcohol tolerance conditioning again. He doesn’t know if he means the AI or the butler.

“If it makes you feel any better, Jordan’s birthday would’ve stolen the spotlight from anyone else in the vicinity,” Bruce says after a while. He specifically remembers a power ring-made piñata hanging from the Watchtower’s ceiling and Hal smashing it again and again…  and again. He didn’t like it all that much, it was clear, but every once in a while Bruce would move his head a few mere inches while reviewing field reports, and the fact it bothered him made Hal become both an enthusiast and a pro at piñata punching over a single night.

“It doesn’t,” Diana raises one eyebrow. “You deserve to be celebrated too. You’ve been a staple amongst this team. Weak excuses to avoid people from being happy you exist in their lives isn’t enough.”

Clark’s smile turns to a good-hearted chuckle that reverberates all around them. He places the back of his hand on his mouth as if he wants to show he didn’t mean to interrupt. “Batman doesn’t have a birthday,” he whispers in a conspiring tone, leaning in. “He wasn’t born. He was molded.”

Batman laughs this time. It starts as a barely contained smile, then a wider one, then a noise that can’t be restrained as he joins in both Diana and Clark’s cheers. It’s not that funny, a part of him thinks, which only reinforces the silliness. He does his best to avoid acknowledging the same part, the one that wears the cowl the firmest, that reminds him of a certain painful night over and over again. The bottle’s level lowers some more so the numbness blissfully sets in. A sense of belonging has always been part of this room, this huge round table with its big insignias carved behind every chair and its big Seven making team decisions all the time, but right now the world ‘family’ is louder than it’s been recently and maybe it’s not just the alien liquid that’s burning up Bruce’s chest.