i've had this idea in my head for over a year now

malec-go-to-hogwarts  asked:

hi cassie :) i've been a fan of the books since 2010 and it's been amazing to see how much they've grown in terms of popularity and audience. I would love to know whether you came up with the idea to write the eldest curses because of how popular Magnus became and the reaction to him or was the idea in your head from the beginning and you decided to finally write it :) also could i be cheeky and ask for a snippet from the lost book of the white preferably featuring Alec....

I was excited to write the story of Magnus and Alec Having An Adventure and Falling More In Love for a very long time, but my ability to do so was limited by the way publishing and distribution worked back in 2005, when I was initially trying to sell City of Bones. There was a lot more resistance to gay characters in YA at that time. A couple of publishers turned the book down because Alec, a gay character, was in it. The Barnes & Noble website page for City of Bones included a review from Commonsense Media where they gave it a content warning for “sexual content” just because of the presence of a gay character even though he never did anything sexual. A lot of big box stores refused to carry the book, and major children’s book clubs passed it over. 

I always hoped for systems to change. As the books grew more popular, and as times changed, I was able to include more of Magnus and Alec as the series went on. In fact, their presence in the story and on the page made a big jump starting in CoFA, at which point I received a surge of criticism from those who were upset that I was writing about Magnus and Alec more prominently. I remember having my books pulled from libraries; foreign translators cut scenes with Magnus and Alec in them; once I was standing in the middle of the street about to get into a car to take me to a school where I was going to do a talk about my books when my publicist came up and said we were no longer invited: the school had read about Magnus and Alec and they didn’t want me there. Or often, if I was at a school, I’d be asked not to talk about Magnus and Alec while speaking to the students.

I tried to walk a careful line, including Magnus and Alec (and later, Aline and Helen) as significant and meaningful characters, but still managing to keep schools, libraries, and reading groups from throwing the books out or locking them up where the kids who most needed to read them wouldn’t be able to access them at all.

I held onto the hope that attitudes would continue to shift, to allow for more freedom to write characters who accurately represent the population of the world we live in (and represent my own friends and family, on whom Alec and Helen specifically are based). Hope that I’d be able to expand roles for characters like Magnus and Alec, and over the past twelve years — partly as I’ve carved out my career in a way where I can take the sales hits that sometimes result from major LGBT+ inclusion, and partly because of so many brave writers, readers, editors and publishers who’ve pushed for change — I’ve been able to do so more and more. 

When I was writing CoFA, I purposefully left a gap where Magnus and Alec go on vacation, with the idea that someday I could go back and fill in that gap with a story focused on them. For a long time that wasn’t something that companies wanted to buy and publish. I could have self-published the series, but I wanted the books on the shelves in stores, on the “bestsellers” rack with every other book I’ve written, making a statement about how much people want this kind of book and these kind of characters. I chose to write the story now when I did because Simon and Schuster, my publisher, opened Saga Press, an imprint dedicated to expanding what you can do in YA and cross-publishing with adult fantasy/sci fi. It’s Saga that will be publishing The Eldest Curses.

I thought a lot about what to say here because of two things: one, that people don’t like to hear about pushback against writing non-straight characters — it’s depressing (it is), it seems distant, unreal, how can these old systems and thought processes still exist? We’ve had successful books with gay characters in them! We’re done, right? I guess all I can say is that I think there’s a value to illuminating the pushback because it underlines how important it is to keep supporting books with LGBT+ characters because we are not there yet; we’re not where those books are give the same budgets and marketing and push as books with straight casts, and it takes the support of readers and reviewers and bookstore and library buyers to get us there.

I’d also say that I know I’ll get criticism for saying I was careful in my portrayal of Magnus and Alec until I felt like I’d gotten to a place where even if the fact that they were in love, lived together, even had sex was shown or even just implied (as it is in CoFA) it wouldn’t mean the books were locked up in libraries and slapped with warning labels. I guess I can only say it’s hard to navigate a situation where you fear the very kids who need to read about Magnus and Alec won’t be able to. When you meet kids who say “This book saved my life” so many times, and you think “But what if you couldn’t get to it? What if your school wouldn’t carry it, or your library, or your Walmart, which in small towns is sometimes literally the only source of books?) I accept that criticism. We all face hard choices in life and we make complicated decisions we think are for the best, and being criticized for those decisions is part of living and learning.

I guess the only other thing I’d say is whatever shitty things were said to me over the years about Magnus and Alec, they pale in comparison to the shitty things said to writers like Malinda Lo and Scott Tracey who were writing their own lives and experiences in the form of LGB characters on the page — and as Malinda says, their pain at confronting homophobia/biphobia will always be more visceral and personal than mine.

If you go out and buy The Lost Book of the White of course I’ll be thrilled, and a lot of that will be because it’s a way to show publishers that this kind of media and these protagonists are wanted and desired by readers. But I’d be just as thrilled if you picked up any fantasy by an LGB+ writer with LBG+ characters in it. There’s a ton of wonderful stuff and I hope you’ll explore it.

its-the-tenerife-sea  asked:

Hello! I have an idea for the ficlet (feel better btw!). Okay: HS AU with popular!Dean and popular!Cas, they're those two annoying guys who make funny (but also obnoxious) comments in every single class, and make stupid, flirtatious remarks to each other like "Cas looks pretty hot today guys" or "I'm totally dating Dean, everyone" etc. Only thing is, they're secretly in love, but neither will admit it. I've had this idea for a while and I'd LOVE for a talented author to execute it.

Aaaahhh it’s been too long since I’ve done a High School AU and I’ve missed it. Thanks for this one and thanks so much for asking me to fufill the prompt! I hope I do it justice :)


“Please take your seats quickly. I want to discuss your quiz scores so we can go over any questions you may have before the final test.” Ms. Mills said with a stack of papers clutched against her chest.

Dean stretched his arms above his head as he flopped into his usual seat on the third row, next to the wall so he could lean up against it in times of extreme laziness. He sprawled out accordingly, dropping his backpack to the floor and draping his letterman jacket over his seat until the air conditioning kicked in during the middle of class like it usually did.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Dean said with a nod as Castiel sat down in the seat next to him.

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel said, barely looking up as he aligned his binder and world history book neatly on the small desk in front of him.

“How was that student council thingy yesterday?” Dean asked, popping a piece of gum into his mouth.

“Absolutely dreary without your shining personality to brighten all of our days,” Castiel murmured, completely straight-faced.

Dean winked as Ms. Mills began talking again.

“Some of you need to look at your notes from the beginning of the year again,” she said as she began passing back the quizzes. “And some of you need to remember that - if you want full credit on the final test - the answer to ‘What are the seven wonders of the ancient world’ is not ‘Castiel Novak’s Ass’ written seven times.”

She frowned when she got to Dean’s desk, dropping the paper on his desk as the rest of the class laughed.

Dean clicked his tongue and made a finger gun at Castiel with another wink.

“Really, Dean? Don’t be childish.” Castiel said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We all know that’s not true. I haven’t done any squats in at least a month.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

anonymous asked:

Hi there! I just saw your post about soulmate fic ideas and I love them too! An idea I've seen somewhere years ago is that everyone is given a necklace at a certain age and when you get closer (in distance not emotions) to your soulmate, the pendant on the necklace heats up. Maybe Bughead meet while travelling and their necklaces get really hot?

I love a good soulmate au!

Jughead sighed, Saturday nights were exhausting in The Southside of Riverdale. Gang meetings always took place in the sleazy beat down dive bar, with about a hundred drunken men in leather jackets trying to make sense of the latest deal they had to get done while simultaneously playing pool and hitting on the Serpent bangers. So yeah tonight had been long.

“Hot dog, I’m home.” He called out to the empty trailer, smiling when he head the familiar thumping of scruffy white paws, the dirty sheepdog standing before him with a goofy grin and slobbery tongue.
“Hey there boy.” Jughead pulled off the heavy leather jacket and flung it over the makeshift kitchen chair plopping down on the couch in the center of the room.

He was tired…all the time. being sixteen wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, he had more responsibilities now that his father was locked up, Jughead had been born a Serpent it was all he knew, but deep down he felt something, something no one else he knew had felt. He wanted more, wanted to be more. He had a friend Archie Andrews, he had met him at the Riverdale Public library one day when he was hiding from a particularly nasty gang fight. Archie had been researching music books and they had bonded over their mutual love for video games and their penchant for fried foods. Archie was the boy next door, bright red hair and a letterman jacket two sizes too big while the tshirt he wore under it was two sizes too small, but he was nice and he didn’t judge Jughead, and that in itself was a feat.

Jugheads fingers wandered up to the clear crystal pendent resting beneath his plain black Tshirt, it was the one thing in his life that was steady, constant, always hanging around his neck, a security blanket almost. He couldn’t believe it when Archie had shown Jughead his own pendent.

“It’s finally cooling down, I just came from Veronica’s house and it was pretty much on fire.” Archie had explained, toying with his pendent, dark purple and black swirls coursing through his.

A soulmate, Jughead squeezed his eyes shut. Archie had been the one to explain the soulmate necklace to him.

“When you find the one you’re meant to be with, the necklace glows, it gets hot, hotter than anything you’ve ever felt. But it doesn’t burn, it feels amazing, its right over your heart, it’s almost like sitting by a bonfire, you can feel the heat but it’s safe and warm”

He wanted it, deep down inside he knew someone like him would never get that, he wasn’t the soulmate type and he was certain his necklace would stay crystal clear his entire life, but… sometimes.. if he stared hard enough, he swore he could see green, he swore there were swirls of gold and meadow green. He was probably kidding himself, setting himself up for disappointment and failure. Wrapping his fingers around the pendent he felt his eyes drift closed, it had been a long day, he didn’t need to be thinking about things like soulmates and silly wishes.


“Dilton Doiley? Really? For Cheryl? You’re sure?” Betty was leaning forward on the lilac and lace comforter, the phone snug against her ear as Veronica spilled the gossip of the day.

“I sure am, apparently they never got close enough to each other to find out, but then today, in gym class, they got paired to be partners for tennis and you know where it goes from there, their necklaces lit up like fireworks and soon enough they had each other nearly naked on the gym floor before coach Clayton broke it up.” Veronica giggled from her end and Betty sighed dreamily.

“I’m happy for them, I think Dilton will be good for her… it’s so crazy how we’re paired in this universe..” Betty trailed off, her fingers playing with the edges of her comforter

“You’ll find him B, I promise.” Veronica soothing said, comforting her best friend.

Betty bit back the bitter tears and cleared her throat, speaking in an incredibly small voice
“I just want something like you and Archie have ya know? I just want someone to love me like that.” She whispered.

“And you will. I know you Betty Cooper and you won’t stop until you find him.” The raven haired princess spoke in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Okay Ronnie, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Veronica said her goodbyes before calling out for Betty one more time

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is that integration mixer with the Southside Students, I’m thinking leather pants and no shirt, what about you?” Betty could practically hear the smirk on the heiresses face.

“You’ve been watching too much Grease Ronnie.” She giggled before hanging up on her best friend.

Betty plopped down on her bed, eyes drifting closed as her hands found her pendent. she would find him, and hopefully soon because all this waiting was making her head hurt.

Veronica couldn’t control her laughter when Betty walked up to her locker before first period.

“What?!” Betty asked defensively.

Veronica settled finally and looked up at Betty out of breath
“It’s nothing, it’s just.., everyone agreed to dress a little more scandalous today, in honor of the Southside coming and you…. I didn’t even know something could be that white”

Betty looked down at her baby blue dress, the skirt grazing mid thigh, her bare arms covered by an impeccable, wrinkle free white cardigan, she wore tiny nude ballet flats and a simple gold chain on her wrist.

“I wore my hair down.” Betty tried, her hands coming up to touch the tips, she wrapped her arms around herself self consciously when she spotted all the girls in mini skirts and tube tops.

Veronica’s eyes softened and she squeezed Betty’s forearm
“You look beautiful, you always do. I’m just teasing, you know that.” She kissed her best friends cheek and Betty smiled.

Suddenly Archie came running through the halls, his eyes set on The two girls as he swooped in, pressing a kiss to Veronica’s cheek. Betty glanced down at their necklaces, feeling the familiar ache of jealousy as they glowed beautifully.

“They’re here! I saw a bunch of bikes pull up, you’re gonna love Jughead guys, he’s so funny man and he’s totally cool.” Archie rambled on and Veronica shot Betty an “is my boyfriend in love with another boy?” look.

Betty rolled her eyes and watched as the Southside teens started filing in, each one bigger and scarier then the last. Betty’s guard went up instantly and she ducked behind Veronica.

“There he is! Jughead! Hey man! Over here!”
Archie was waving to a leather jacket wearing boy in the back, Betty couldnt make out his face but she knew the prominent S on his back meant that he was a Serpent, she had written a research paper on why Serpents should be treated equal and as normal as everyone else in Riverdale. The whole Serpent culture amazed her.

He was walking towards them and Betty could just make out stormy, raindrop blue eyes. Something in her stomach twisted and she stepped closer, trying to get a better look.

Suddenly he had stopped in his tracks, His fingers instantly coming up to grip the necklace hanging on the black string around his neck, Betty did the same and as the two stared at each other a gradual heat was rising in the crystal pendent. A series of blue and black swirls racing through her pendent while his had Gold and green.

He walked closer to her, the pendent becoming unbearably hot but it didn’t bother either of them, Betty could vaguely hear the frantic whispers of Veronica behind her.

They were standing chest to chest at this point and cautiously Betty reached her hand out, stopping quickly and looking the dark haired boy in the eyes, silently asking for permission. He nodded slowly, what she didn’t know was that she could do anything in the world to him and he would just nod. She had him. That was it, he was hers now.

As soon as her tiny fingers brushed the pendent a shining bright light illuminated both of their necklaces, an almost primal growl came from deep inside Jugheads chest as his hands gripped The perfect and proper blondes waist

“Finally.” He whispered before dropping his lips to hers.

She followed with equal fervor, her hands winding in his hair as he held her tight to his chest. After what felt like hours they finally pulled apart.

Neither of the teens said anything until Betty broke the silence

“Betty Cooper, my names Betty Cooper and I guess I’m your soulmate.” Her smile was perfect and her fingers were still playing with the now filled pendent.

Jughead laughed heartily, his own long, slender fingers coming up to play with her necklace
“Can’t believe I got someone like you, you’re pretty as a picture Betty Cooper. I’m Jughead Jones and I am so happy you’re my soulmate.” He smirked crookedly before dropping his lips to hers.

The necklace pressed against each other as a warm glow of sunshine bathed the teens in light. They still had so much to learn about one another but right here, soft white cardigan pressed against worn black leather

They might just be okay.

anonymous asked:

Hi TT :), I just went on your marauders threads masterpost and none of the links worked. Honestly it might be my computer (I have a super nasty virus atm) but then it might not be. To give you an idea, every time i scroll over the links the typing cursor comes up (y'know the one with the lines that highlights stuff) I've refreshed the page quite a few times and nothing seems to be working. I will carry on refreshing and see if it will work, but for now I just thought you ought to know :)

(( OOC: Yeah, I’m not sure what’s going on there. :P I’ll try and get that fixed… but in the meantime… let’s see if this works: 


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The Price of Gold

(a fantasy Percabeth royal!au) 

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

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

(read it on ff.net)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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anonymous asked:

Cap!! I've been so busy with college assignments I'm always missing our family interactions. So I am 20 year old lesbian who never kissed anyone, and I really want to but I'm scared, bc what if I terrible at it! Could you maybe write Kara having a first kiss (or just anything to make me less anxious about it)? I love you and all my siblings <3

Supercorp College AU

Alex never seems to like it. 

Kissing boys.

Kara’s not sure if she’d like it. She likes James, but Lucy seems to like kissing him.

A lot.

And it makes her happy – to see them happy – but sometimes it makes her confused.

Because sometimes, she’s not sure if she wants to be kissing James, or Lucy. 

She hears Maggie – that forensics major Alex is spending so much time with these days – talking about it being okay to like people of different genders.

She figures that’s what she might be. Bi. Pan. Something like that.

Yeah, definitely something like that.

And she wonders, with the way Alex seems to melt and stammer and splutter around Maggie so, so, so often, what Alex thinks about all that.

She makes a note to ask her about it.

But for now?

For now, she’s just trying to find her own words, because suddenly, she feels a lot like her sister.

Because Lena Luthor actually showed up to tonight’s party, and Lena Luthor is actually talking to her.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

heeey! sorry to bother you. do you have any recs for fics where harry has a crush on draco? I'm in your fic recs tag (ur the best btw) and i've run across some pining draco recs, and i thought you might know some cute pining-harry (when is he not pining tho? he's so obsessed, but you know what i mean haha!!)

One pining Harry coming right up!

To Be Where I’m Going (In the Sunshine of Your Love) by @theboywholivcd (19k)
“He imagined Draco’s smile, all gums and slightly crooked teeth, his hair slicked back with Pacific water, and he knew: He’d travel as long as he’d need to if it meant he’d see that face. If it meant that Draco would hear the message he’d been carrying for so long. Maybe he didn’t have to travel the road alone anymore.“
Draco and Harry go on a road trip together. It’s about the journey, not the destination.

Azoth by Zeitgeistic (88k)
Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

A Piercing Comfort by talithan (44k)
When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy’s patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he’s no longer sure he wants to.

Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame (30k)  
One year after being accidentally bonded to each other, Harry and Draco are free to move on with their lives. But perhaps, what they needed was here all along.

The Gentlewizard Club by @sophiefrench77 (28k)
Draco wants what Draco wants. And if he has to snuggle up to Harry to get it, well, surely, Draco can handle that. Problem is, not sure Harry can.

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (9k)
Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan. 

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (149k) 
Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Potential Gravity by zeitgeistic (32k)
Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

Time to Eternity by calrissian18 (16k)
Malfoy has wings.

A Convenient Impracticality by firethesound (38k)
Somehow Harry ends up agreeing to a fake relationship with his ex-nemesis-turned-friendly-acquaintance-with-benefits, except for some reason it involves an awful lot of actual dating and, sadly, not much sex. Confused? Harry is too, but when has anything with Draco Malfoy ever been as straightforward as it seems?

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy (35k)
When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

For Love of a Family by icicle33 (30k)
A series of attacks by a group of neo-Death Eaters causes the Ministry to implement a new set of restrictions on former Death Eaters and their children. When Scorpius falls ill, Draco decides that he will do anything to save his son, even if it means marrying Harry Potter.

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)
Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”

Left My Heart by Emmagrant01 (85k)
Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him. [Sequel Surrender the Grey]

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (47k)
The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect. [Follow up Leather Bound History]

LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna (21k)
It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. 

let me see you stripped (down to the bone) by traintracks (24k)
“So,” Malfoy said. “Are you in? Or are you out?” He turned and looked at Harry squarely.
Harry remembered the slow way Malfoy had slid his hand down his own stomach, into his pants – the outline of his long fingers gripping and stroking his own cock. The way his head had fallen back, exposing his pale throat.
How he had owned them all.
He took a deep breath. “I’m in,” he said.

No Other Superstar by lettered (21k)
Draco is sort of fucked up. Harry is sort of fucked up and really really famous. Together they fight crime! Not in this fic, though. In this fic they have sex.

Like a Real Family by Queenie_Mab (10k)
Harry thought he had all he wanted in life, raising Teddy and being the parent he’s always wanted to be, until he experiences what life with a partner could be like. Now if only Draco wasn’t straight.

Twelve Months by dysonrules (14k)
Hermione buys Harry a journal and he ends up using it to record his DEEP THOUGHTS. Not surprisingly, those tend to mostly involve Draco Malfoy.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by Lauren3210 (32k)
Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he’s going to work to get it.

The Kaleidoscope Charm, or 50 Shades of Rainbow Magic by Omi_Ohmy (26k)
Getting Draco Malfoy as a boss was not the worst thing that happened to Harry; getting a crush on him was.

Systemic Morality by zeitgeistic (34k) 
One screw-up changes everything. Harry really should learn to lock the door before having sex with Draco when his godson’s around. A tale of hot, steamy, flowing love—for Padma Patil and Theodore Nott. A tale of colossal screw-ups and slow, flangsty (sexy) resolutions for Harry and Draco.

And a Malfoy in a Pear Tree by lauren3210 (7k)
Draco works in a coffee shop. Harry drops by every day to get his fix. Of coffee, Ron.

The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care by digthewriter (9k)
Harry Potter is the proud owner of The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care and his favourite student is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s dad might be okay, too.

Reading Malfoy by Femme (15k) 
After thirteen years of hiding himself away in Muggle London, Draco Malfoy shows up again in the wizarding world–with a wickedly amusing memoir in hand. Harry doesn’t want to read it. Really. He doesn’t.

Humbug (A Christmas Tale) by Snegurochka (29k)
Draco has been taking his casual relationship with Harry for granted. Visits from four key ghosts the night before Christmas just might shake up his priorities in life.

So Worth The Yearning For… by digthewriter (7k)
After months (years, really) of pining, Harry accidentally asks Malfoy out on a date.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (27k)
Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

The Holy Tree is Growing There by lotus_lizzy (18k)
The winsome, winsome elder tree Beneath whose shade I sit reclin’d;- It holds a witch within its bark, A lovely witch who haunts the dark, And fills with love my mind. ~George Burrow

He’s got fire for a heart, and I’m scared of burning by Samcgrath (11k)
Harry returns to England to help solve a particularly tricky case but nobody bothered to mention that he’d be working with Malfoy, who seems just as happy about it as Harry. In his absence, the wizarding world has changed in ways Harry’s having some trouble adjusting to while Malfoy struts around in his elegant robes and effortlessly charms everyone he lays eyes on. Months of grappling with his own feelings, trying to understand Draco’s, pining day in and day out - it can get a little tiring especially when Draco Malfoy is as infuriating as ever.

The Art of Seduction by playout (2k)
Harry and Draco are Auror partners assigned to go undercover at a muggle gay bar frequented by drug-dealing wizards.
Everyone knows Draco’s gay, but that Harry has been nursing a crush on the pompous arse for years is not so well known.
What could possibly go wrong?

The Expert by FantasyFiend09 (11k)
Harry finally gets a good case, but the Aurors are going to need some outside help.

These Little Things (That Guide Me to You) by huldrejenta (4k)
Harry realises his true feelings for Malfoy just as Malfoy decides to go travelling to find himself. Sometimes love means letting someone go. Sometimes going away will show you where your true home is.

The Perils of Peach Picking by sonata_de_morte (2k)
Draco Malfoy was a terrible person. On top of being a terrible person, he was a sodding tease. On top of being a sodding tease, he was fucking gorgeous. Too gorgeous for his own fucking good, Harry Potter thought mutinously.

You Were Crushed (Just Like Me) by firethesound (4k)
Something finally comes of Harry’s embarrassing crush on Malfoy. (Well, two somethings. Someones. Whatever. Also all of Harry’s friends are terrible.)

Voices From The Fog by noeon (13k)
After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Hidden in the Depths by envy_venis (21k)
Sometimes we know exactly what we’re looking for, even if it isn’t quite clear how to reach it.

Take the Air by dysonrules (50k)
Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the worst, most anti-social, rude, and annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry. Or perhaps he is only that way around Harry…

He’s got fire for a heart, and I’m scared of burning by Samcgrath (110k)
Harry returns to England to help solve a particularly tricky case but nobody bothered to mention that he’d be working with Malfoy, who seems just as happy about it as Harry. In his absence, the wizarding world has changed in ways Harry’s having some trouble adjusting to while Malfoy struts around in his elegant robes and effortlessly charms everyone he lays eyes on. Months of grappling with his own feelings, trying to understand Draco’s, pining day in and day out - it can get a little tiring especially when Draco Malfoy is as infuriating as ever.

Also, if you have a copy Drop Dead Gorgeous by Maya is a very good Pining!Harry fic. :)

Codename "THE BOSS"

The Boss was only ever assigned solo missions. Not because they didn’t play well with others, but because they alone were enough. A one-man army. A violent force of destruction. They did the missions that nobody else could do- that nobody else could stomach. No one was quite sure what had happened to The Boss in life to prepare them so thoroughly at destroying lives, places, things. But they were better at it than anyone, and that’s all the Agency cared about when it came to fighting Legion.

When the time came for the Agency to step out into the sun, and fight the enemies at their door, they dragged The Boss from the shadows too. Meet the other agents, they said, work together to save the world, they said. The Boss never took off their full-face helmet in front of them. Their voice always digitally distorted. And they were only saved for the worst (and the best) battles. So when they were finally called in, air dropped from the sky, right into the heat of gun-fire and explosions, the other agents really couldn’t have expected the tide of the fight to reverse so suddenly. But it did. It always did, when The Boss stepped onto the stage.
They raged like a deadly current, pushing through men and beast and robot with bullets, blades and blunt instruments, leaving a wake of corpses behind them. They were awesome. They were terrifying. They were unstoppable.

Only Gat thought they were beautiful, on top of all of these perfect qualities. Their movements, their strength, their viciousness- it brought up a deep longing from inside of him that he didn’t even know existed. Or maybe he did? Was that the source of the empty space in his life that neither marriage, murder or duty could fill? It was as if their image had been seared into his brain and it wouldn’t let go until death. Either his, or their’s. He flung himself back into the thick of it, ignoring his teammates, fighting not only to win, but to get to them- to meet them in blood and violence, hear their voice, feel the heat of murder off their body. And he got there. Lord knew those who tried to get in his way were fools beyond mention. They had all heard their codename. He felt it in his bones that he was not the only one who stopped and let the name sink in. Something familiat- something like home. That’s why it made all the sense in the world when he called out their name.


They had whipped around so fast the poor fella’s head in their arms nearly did a 180. Full body tactical armour, fully shaded visor. Completely undescernible spare the agency’s logo emblazoned on their chest piece, Johnny Gat felt that he knew them. Knew, that he should know them. They stared at him as if they did. Stautuesque and deadly quiet, Johnny felt like if he made a move, they would run. He didn’t understand why he felt like that, but he had gotten into the habit of trusting his gut. When The Boss finally moved, Johnny automatically tensed for an attack- but all they did was tilt their head to the sky, hands creaking into fists. And they stared, silently, as if in conversation with the clouds. Johnny felt like he had done the same before. The battle around them raged, but kept a distance, as if their enemies knew this was no normal meeting- to intervene was to invite death. In resignation, a gargly sigh echoed from their helmet, and the attention was back on him.

“Who’re you?” They asked.

Frustration at their unidentifiable voice spurred on his frustration at the question. A voice screamed from inside of him, a stranger all his life- YOU KNOW ME. When he realised he had taken too long to answer, The Boss had taken a half-step towards him, over the body of a Legion goon, their head tilted in what could be concern.

“Johnny. Johnny Gat.” He said hoarsely, his heart taking up too much room in his throat.

They stood for a moment, letting the answer sink in, then nodded sharply, pulling up the Uzis they had in their hands.

“Try to keep up.”

And then they were off, charging into the fray once more and leaving him dumbstruck. But the words branded him. His body was moving before his mind did. Like a gear that had slipped out of place for many years, it had been kicked back into position, ready to go. Whoever this guy was, whatever they may be, Johnny was going to find out- because nothing had ever felt as good as this feeling. The feeling of rightness. The feeling of finding something that he never knew was lost. A sense of destiny calling his name from the other side of the gun.

The Boss felt like they were going to be struck down by a cruel God, and this dream was going to end.

( @celestialgoth you gave me the idea and now I can’t stop thinking of it, tis your fault.)

the dog’s leash - ed

a/n: uhhhhh i thought of a really extra idea and then spent four hours on it…..it’s fine this wasn’t 13 pages on word don’t worry about it

word count: 5,362

“Let’s get a dog.”

Blinking blankly at the wall opposite your curled up figure wasn’t enough to suffice the confusion that coarsed suddenly through your veins. With a groan, you wiggled around in Ethan’s grip to face him. Sleep had yet to claim his features at three in the morning as he gazed pointedly in your direction, as if he’d been expecting you to react to his statement.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right,” You slid a hand up to press your cheek against it. “Did you say let’s get a dog?”

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Just Smile at Me

Pairing: Keith/Lance (klance)

Rating: General

Word Count: 3,934

Description:  Keith didn’t like Lance’s fake smile, that one he did whenever he would flirt with Allura or any other breathing being. Keith liked Lance’s real smile, the one he used when talking to his friends. Lance never smiled at Keith like that. And that’s all Keith really wanted; for Lance to smile at him.

On Ao3

Keith didn’t want to call it pining, because it honestly wasn’t. He didn’t sit around fantasizing about Lance dramatically confessing his love before they went off to make out in a broom cupboard. But he certainly had a fixation on the blue pilot and it was bugging him to his core, the worst part being that he couldn’t differentiate whether the obsession or the lack of reciprocation was what irked him so much.

Luckily, the befuddled state of his brain didn’t appear to seep into overt blatancy seeing as Lance hadn’t tuned in on it. And Keith was certain that if Lance had, he’d never shut up about it. The last thing his teammate needed was a boost to his ego and something to hold over Keith’s head. God, his stomach twisted uncomfortably just at the thought of it.

But even the -quite frankly terrifying- prospect of Lance learning of Keith’s little bout of mania wasn’t enough to deter him from staring incredulously at Lance as he danced around Allura in some spectacularly horrifying courting ritual that had Keith wanting to rip his hair out in both secondhand embarrassment and irritation.

Keith’s cheek was squished against the palm of his hand as his elbow rested on the counter, his glare leaving palpable trails of aimless animosity drifting through the air. He hated when Lance did this show of bravado. It was one thing to hit on every sentient being of an appropriate age, it was another for him to relentlessly flirt with Allura while looking pained from doing so.

“That’s not his real smile.” Keith muttered to himself, ever familiar with the many ins-and-outs of Lance’s facial expressions from the obscene amount of time he spent staring at that stupidly attractive face. If Keith didn’t know any better, he’d think the only thing holding Lance back from actually winning over everyone he flirted with was his obnoxious pick-up lines. And yet even that ridiculous aspect of Lance’s personality still managed to elicit something in Keith’s gut that he really didn’t want to reflect on.

But with all of Keith’s staring and unadmitted swooning, he still found that smile to be annoying as all hell. Because it wasn’t a real smile, it was that smile carefully crafted and put into place when Lance was doing something either because he thought it was expected of him, or because he needed to boast his fabricated over-the-top ego to hide his bruised self-esteem.

I know his real smile and that isn’t it.” Keith whispered under his breath as he watched Lance bounce out of the room after Allura, who was wearing an awfully tight smile as she let Lance ramble on.

“You know, I can hear you mumbling darkly over there but none of it’s registering. If you’re trying to start a conversation, Batman, I suggest upping the volume so us humans can actually hear what you’re saying.” Pidge said without even looking up from whatever contraption they were working in their lap. It was still a wonder to Keith how Pidge managed to curl up in a barstool as if it were an armchair.

“Sorry.” Keith grumbled, straightening up in his seat. “I just hate when Lance does that thing.

“Oh yeah, the thing, of course.” Keith could practically hear the eye-roll in Pidge’s voice as they ignored the little shower of sparks that erupted from the cube they were fiddling with. “Keith, I am all for appreciating the mystery of the Guessing Game but I don’t think it suits casual conversation outside of your preschool classroom.”

Keith groaned as he shoved his face into his hands, his theatricality not lost to himself but he found no part of him wanting to reel it in. “I’m talking about when he does that smile, where it doesn’t reach his eyes and it’s just for show and is so fake that it puts the moon landing to shame.”

“Wait, what?” Pidge snorted, actually swiveling in their chair to face Keith. “You don’t believe in the moon landing? Dude, we’re in space-

“My point,” Keith barreled on harshly, “is that this smile is dumb and I’ve seen his real one and it’s ten times better.”

Pidge made an exasperated sound, as if they couldn’t believe they were having a discussion about the many facets of Lance’s smile. “Not that this conversation isn’t absolutely riveting, but have you considered talking to Lance about this? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you droning on about his mouth for a few hours; it would probably do you both some good.”

“No, no, I’m just…ranting I guess. I just- I don’t understand why he does it? He smiles genuinely at you and Hunk, even Shiro and Allura if he isn’t trying to initiate a mating ritual with her.” Keith sighed, folding his arms onto the counter, letting his head drop onto them, looking akin to someone who ordered their sixth shot with only three dollars left in their bank account. “He never smiles at me like that.”

Pidge seemed unamused at this notion, taking to jabbing their screwdriver into the metal cube in almost sporadic motions, an annoyed sound getting caught in their throat. Keith didn’t know if it was directed at him or the apparently stubborn machine. He hoped it was the latter. “He smiles at you all the time, what are you even talking about?”

“I mean, yeah, he smiles at me sometimes but not that smile, the one where your cheeks get sore just from looking at it.” Keith explained forlornly, feeling that he should be in a Jane Austen novel instead of whatever cruel Shakespearean play that his life was basing itself off of. Perhaps equating the lack of a smile to that of the tragic writings of Shakespeare such as Romeo and Juliet may have been on the dramatic side but Keith truly felt that his distress could be woven into a beautifully disastrous sonnet.

“Dude, you’re pining hardcore. Trust me, Lance looks at you with just as much dopiness as you do him, but when you’re not looking because he can apparently strategize better than you.” Pidge said, amused as they took the screwdriver by its head and started lightly thwacking the side of the cube with the handle.

Keith shot up in his chair, looking scandalized at the accusation that he was pining over Lance. He tried to hide the blush crawling over his face at the image of Lance staring at him when his back was turned and- shit, maybe he was pining.

Keith was determined to see Lance’s smile. He’d mulled it over, trying to grasp the rather preposterous idea that Lance would ever show affection toward him and came to the single conclusion that he could not let Lance win. If he was smiling at Keith behind his back, well, that clearly meant that he was trying to hide his admiration for the red paladin and that just wasn’t going to cut it. Keith wanted to see Lance genuinely smile at him.

“I’m gonna do it.” Keith said determinedly from his spot on the couch.

“Listen, dude, if this is about you finally swiping your V card, we really don’t-“ Pidge was cut off by Hunk’s hand covering their mouth accompanied by a horrified gasp.

“You’re fourteen,” Hunk whispered in alarm, “who corrupted your innocent mind?”

Pidge forced his hand off of their mouth, almost knocking over the chess pieces they were using. “Lance, but unintentionally. And this isn’t about me; this is about Cryptid Number One over here trying to suckle curious prodding out of us.”

“I’m not trying to suckle anything.” Keith spat defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. He was painfully aware of the plentiful amount of similarities between him and a petulant child but he was choosing to ignore them.

“Except for Lance’s-“

“Lance’s what? My awesome flip I did yesterday in training?” Lance appeared in the doorway and it was like seeing the devil himself rise from Hell just to torment Keith and all he could do was hide behind his overgrown mullet and hope his strife didn’t manifest in crimson waves on his skin.

Lance didn’t seem to notice, however, as he sat down way too close to Keith, their knees practically touching. Keith squished against the armrest, trying in vain to create some distance between them but, unfortunately, Lance was inclined toward manspreading.

“Nothing.” Keith bit out, practically folding in on himself. Right, really inconspicuous.

“Come on, guys! You know you don’t have to hide your love of me from me! I am my number one fan, after all.” Lance’s arms found their way over the back of the couch, his fingers just brushing the back of Keith’s hair. It was like a feather had just been dusted over the nape of his neck, sending goosebumps down his back.

“We were just-“ Pidge started and grunted angrily from being interrupted once again as Hunk pulled them up by their arm.

“-Leaving.” Hunk finished with a heavy sigh, clearly resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to control Pidge from saying anything that would haunt more than one of them for years to come.

Keith was glad that Pidge was being mercilessly dragged away but he really, really didn’t want to be left alone with Lance. Usually he was a fly by the seat of his pants kind of guy but Lance managed to make him doubt every move he made. No, in order to get Lance to smile at him without revealing his insanely obvious feelings for him, he’d need a plan.

“I’m a good liar, right? Like, I’m good at keeping secrets?” Keith wiped the hair sticking to his forehead away before using a washcloth to dry the sweat.

Shiro chuckled, that big brother chuckle. He used it whenever he was amusing a kid, or in this case, Keith. He was a little offended by that, but he pushed that aside, hoping to get an earnest answer from Shiro.

“I don’t know, Keith. You’re a skilled fighter and you’re very headstrong.” Shiro dabbed the back of his neck with his own washcloth, intently avoiding Keith’s eyes. Great, now he was listing Keith’s positive attributes to soften the blow. “You don’t really need to be cunning; you’re a paladin not a spy.”

Keith sat on the bench, defeated. “I’m not talking about being a paladin.”

Shiro nodded his head in understanding, taking a seat next to Keith. “Is this about Lance?”

God. Well, that answered Keith’s question.

Keith just sighed, slinking further down the wall he was resting against. Insecurity really didn’t suit him but it seemed to be sprouting from him like daisies.

“Lance is…he’s very perceptive.” Shiro said, wringing his hands in his lap. Something told Keith that this really wasn’t his area of expertise but the guy felt such a moral obligation to hold everyone on the team up that he was willing to give it a shot. “But I don’t think he knows. I think there’s something about you that clouds his judgement sometimes.”

Shiro smiled down at him, slapping a hand on his shoulder as a gesture of solidarity. Keith didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, that he clouds Lance’s judgement, but he couldn’t dwell on the thought or his mind and heart might start racing like it was the Olympics. Better to change the subject and get his blood pumping in another way.

Shiro seemed to sense this, standing up and offering a hand to a slouched Keith. “Let’s just get back to sparring, huh?”


Something about this felt like cruel irony. Like a cosmic force was fucking with Keith and that this was righteous retribution for all those impulsive and stupid things he’d done before. Because what else could possibly explain Lance pinning Keith during training? As if anything like that could ever occur in this reality. Or maybe it could, because apparently it did, and the embarrassment of being beaten was soon going to be overshadowed by Keith’s attraction showing itself in a very obvious form.

Keith wasn’t sure if Shiro was on his side or not, after all, the guy had paired him and Lance up for practice but he was also the one that saved Keith, telling them to get back up and restart.

This, of course, didn’t come without a get it together, Keith. You have to stay focused. Which, in all fairness Keith deserved. He knew that he didn’t really have his head in the game. It was almost as if Lance could sense it, that something was off. He’d grinned a malicious, devastating smile, one born from the cockiness of knowing you’d overpower your prey. And, well, maybe Keith could’ve avoided the tackle and actually done something with Lance’s telegraphing but instead he got caught up on that damn smile.

And then he was pinned against the cold floor, oddly turned on, entirely horrified, absolutely embarrassed, and frankly, rather pissed.

He pushed himself up from the floor, brushing himself off and pointedly ignoring the smug face Lance was making. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, Shiro’s especially piercing. He glanced over at them; Shiro had his arms folded over his chest, his eyebrows low over his eyes. He was watching Keith, and Keith knew that he could see the irritation wafting off him like smoke. Who was he irritated with? Who knows, anyone, everyone? It didn’t matter. He just needed to win, not for his ego but to convince some part of himself that he wasn’t so entranced with Lance as to actually get his ass handed to him.

They started again, circling each other, like a dance, Keith thought to himself before refocusing on his stance. He watched Lance carefully, all his languid movements, the determination in his eyes and the way his lips pursed slightly in concentration, twitching like they were also amused. Shit. Right. Focus on what Lance is doing, not what he looks like.

Suddenly Lance lunged and Keith…Keith wouldn’t say he wasn’t prepared because he was, it’s just that he may have been a little too prepared and a little too out of it to rein things in. Lance stumbled backwards, hands clutching his face as his eyes grew in horror.

“What the fuck, man?!”

“Oh shit,” Keith gasped, rushing over to Lance. But there wasn’t anything he could do but raise his hands to Lance’s face like he wanted to do something but could only hover awkwardly. “Lance, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what- I just-“

“Is it bad?” Lance slowly removed his hands from his face, revealing a very bloodied nose and jaw. Keith had seen a lot in his time, just like the others, so he managed not to flinch at the sight, but something must have given him away because Lance whimpered like a kicked puppy. Or a punched puppy, Keith supposed.

“Keith, go get an icepack.” Shiro said, quickly coming over to assess the damage. Shiro gently took Lance’s chin in his fingertips, tilting his head back slightly to get a better look. Keith knew there was nothing to be jealous of, but he still felt it spike in his gut. He had hurt Lance, genuinely, physically hurt him and now Shiro was cleaning up his mess and being Lance’s hero. Not that Keith wanted to be anyone’s hero, but it was still hard to look at, so he turned away and left to get an icepack.

When he returned, Lance was significantly less bloody. They’d managed to fix him up a bit, cleaning his face with a cloth and stopping the bleeding. Now it just looked like a bruised mess.

“Here.” Keith said as he handed over the cool compress. Lance took it and carefully applied it to his nose. “I’m really sorry, man.”

Lance shrugged, “it’s okay, my face is still as handsome as ever. No real damage done.”

Keith rolled his eyes but smiled. He was relieved that Lance wasn’t mad. He didn’t really expect him to be, in a complicated way, Lance just wasn’t really like that.

“I got distracted and reacted instinctively. It was stupid.” Keith sat down next to Lance. They were sitting closely again but Keith didn’t try to move away.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Heh, tried to take advantage of it, but-“ Lance gestured to his mess of a face. He leaned his head back against the wall. “You okay, dude? You looked kind of far away that whole time. Don’t usually see that with you.”

“Yeah,” Keith sighed. “I’m just…it’s hard to explain. I am really sorry, though, seriously.”

“I know.” Lance said, moving his eyes from the ceiling to Keith.

“Keith, can I talk to you for a minute?” Shiro called from across the arena.

“Shit.” Keith muttered, pushing himself up from the ground. Here it comes; the Shiro lecture. Except this one would be ten times worse because it would undoubtedly involve Shiro talking about Keith’s feelings for Lance.

“Don’t worry; he won’t be too hard on you. You’re his favorite.”

Keith flipped Lance off behind his back, making his way over to Shiro. He could feel Lance staring at him as he walked across the room, the hairs on his neck standing up from the scrutiny. Keith glanced over his shoulder but Lance was already looking away.

He’d been smiling at Keith, he knew it in his gut, but he’d missed it. Of course.

“So, did Shiro totally chew you out?” Lance stood in Keith’s bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. The swelling in his nose had gone down, but he now had some bruising under his eyes. Coran had managed to splint it to make sure it didn’t heal crooked. In short, Lance looked worse for wear.

Shiro had chewed him out, but in that concerned way parents usually did when they knew something else was going on. I know it can be hard liking someone, especially in your teens. He had said. It all felt worse with the way Shiro looked down at him from his taller height, eyebrows pinched in worry. But you have to be careful. Someone could get hurt, this time it was just in training and Lance is fine, but when we’re out there in our lions, it can be life and death. We can’t afford to lose an ounce of concentration.

Keith had reassured him that such a thing would never happen during an actual battle. Sure, Keith was a little out of it during 1v1 sparring with Lance, but that was a totally different situation. Shiro had only nodded his head.

“I survived, at least.” Keith answered. He didn’t like looking directly at Lance’s face, it made him feel guilty. “You know you could just get in a healing pod for an hour or two.”

Lance shrugged, taking that as his invitation to fully come into the room. “Feels kind of ridiculous to get into a pod for a broken nose.”

“Have you looked in the mirror? I don’t think anyone would find it ridiculous. That shit looks like it hurts.” Another pang of guilt as he said it but he swallowed it down.

Lance laughed, trying not to move his face too much. “I’ve been trying to avoid all reflective surfaces in fear of having a panic attack over my compromised beauty.”

Lance seemed to be moving closer, slowly, until he finally sat down next to Keith on his bed. Keith’s heart started pounding in his chest. He felt like a cartoon character and soon it would actually burst. Dying from a crush was too comical and too poetic for Keith, so he tried to calm himself, even as Lance looked straight at him.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty, it’s training, it happens.” Keith didn’t say how it hadn’t happened to the others, or how it was all caused by him being too obsessed with Lance’s mouth, apparently. Instead he just nodded. “And I know there’s…something going on with you and I’m not really the best person to come to but you always have the option. Just so you know. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at giving advice.”

Keith snorted. “Really, by whom?”

Lance looked away, tilting his head. “You know, people. In general. I was very loved at the Garrison, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ladies were lining up.” Keith deadpanned.

“The boys, too.” Lance smirked his annoying smirk and it sent heat down to Keith’s toes.

“Right.” He muttered under his breath, less of a response to Lance and more of him trying to keep his head clear. He kept his eyes focused on his lap, he couldn’t meet Lance’s gaze, not after that.

“See, like that! You’re all blushy and abashed. You’re not usually like that. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute but it’s just out of the ordinary for you.”

Keith couldn’t help but look at him now. His face felt like fire and obviously Lance could see it and that just made it worse and god- Lance had just called him cute. What the fuck, he couldn’t just say that. And, wow, Lance was smiling at him. That smile, the one Keith had been thinking about an inane amount and it was just as blinding as it was when he looked at the others.

But it almost hurt this time, the intensity of it being directed at Keith was almost too much. He wanted to look away but he was utterly enthralled by it- by Lance.

“You’re smiling at me.” It came out a quiet whisper, escaping his lips not of his own volition. It was painful, the way his whole body was thrumming with energy, like someone had just plugged him into a socket.

“Well, yeah.” If Keith wasn’t mistaken, Lance’s cheeks were red too. That certainly didn’t help the situation.

“But you- you never smile at me like that.” Keith almost felt indignant. This wasn’t some blasé thing, this was huge! This was a milestone but Lance was acting like it was just…What? Some normal thing?

Lance scoffed, but his smile stayed intact, only his face was closer now. It felt like they were gravitating toward each other, like the universe was pulling them together. “I smile at you all the time.”

“Yeah but not like that-not like this.” Keith said, his breathing short.

“Maybe because this is different.”

Keith breathed a startled oh, before Lance was leaning in and kissing him so, so gently. Keith wasn’t entirely sure their lips were even touching, it was so light. Lance had his head turned carefully, as to not hit his nose, but Keith stayed utterly still, rigid as a pole. Then he melted, the blood flowing through his veins turned to fire and ice. He could feel every beat of his heart pumping through him.

Lance moved back and it immediately felt like a part of Keith was missing, he wanted to pull him in and become whole again. But he didn’t. They sat there, looking at each other.

Keith had thought he’d need a plan for this, to get Lance to smile at him like he was now. But he didn’t. He didn’t need anything, because this was how Lance felt and it was so much better than any scheme could’ve turned out.

Lance took Keith’s hand in his own. “I’m glad you broke my nose.”

Keith didn’t know how to respond, so he laughed, because it felt right. And then Lance was laughing too.

So umm I barely edited this and it’s a mess but hopefully it’s an enjoyable one. Feedback, as usual, is very much appreciated!

Pride Day on Diagon Alley

Someone, please remind Harry not to trust Hermione with something like this anymore. Of course it seemed like a brilliant idea at the beginning, but don’t they all? Every single plan they’ve had along eight years of school turned against Harry, and now this one will do as well. 

How does he know?

Well, because the simplest idea of attending Pride Day -that’s how Hermione called it- on Diagon Alley with Draco Malfoy gave Harry shivers and the anticipation about how bad this could go was making Harry want to hide into his cupboard.

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Mischievous Hugs, touken fanfic

Summary: The Aogiri kids share an enjoyable afternoon playing with Touka and Kaneki at the park, until one of the kids decides to give them a punishment.

Rating: Cute, fluffy! | Words: 2,612 words | If you like it, please reblog!

A/N: what a shitty title oh my god hello everyone! I made a post asking to vote three touken prompts that I was planning to write this week. Surprisingly, the aogiri+touken kids was the winner! so here it is. It’s a bit short, I was planning to write it as a headcanon instead but it turned out to be a bit longer, I was running out of ideas and I’m not sure if this is good enough, but it was fun to write anyway. 

thank you all for voting the fic and don’t worry if the one you wanted didn’t win, i will be writing those very soon! excuse any grammar mistakes&enjoy! <3


“You have to hug Onii-chan for ten seconds!”

Kaneki coughs, touching the back of his head.


One of the boys drags the girl by the arm, trying to stop her.

“I told you this was a bad id—”

“You have to hug!” she ignores her friend and walks towards Touka, pushing her from the back against Kaneki.

“A-Ah! Wait!”

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Hold On, I Still Need You


Longing doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling. It’s going to be a torturous five years, but Clarke is nothing if not stubborn and she’s definitely not one to back down from a challenge. She opens to the next page of the notebook and writes it down - 1825.

1825 days until they get to start living for themselves. Together.

Bring it on, Praimfaya.

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hamswritingtho  asked:

When were you going to tell me that you're pregnant? +Feysand I've also been greatly enjoying all the little fics you've been writing :)

Thank you, friend!! This is probably not exactly what you were asking for, but for whatever dumb reason, this popped in my head reading the prompt. Hope you like!

BTW peeps: I’m still doing these, just working through them slowly. Feel free to keep sending them and I’ll try to do them when I can. Link to prompt list is at the end. <3

When Feyre rounds the corner into the produce section of the grocery store, the last thing she expects to see is Cassian shoving a watermelon under her husband’s shirt amid a choir of snickers from the pair of them. Cassian has his phone out and is just about to Snapchat a pic when Feyre clears her throat. The boys freeze, Rhys blushing just a tad.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?” Feyre asks Rhys pointedly, stifling a smirk.

“Just getting a feel for things,” Rhys says cooly. “We can never be too prepared.”

“Man, don’t drop it!” Cass barks suddenly, seeing the huge melon begin to slip. Rhys removes it without a problem and replaces it on the shelf.

“You two are going to get us kicked out of here if you keep goofing off. We still have a lot of shopping to do and Nesta’s already bit my head off about the right kind of cheese to go with the appetizers.”

Only Nesta could make cheese and crackers feel unbearably stuffy. And as much as Feyre really does trust Nesta’s expert opinion that brie will be best, she’s not going into this dinner without a hunk of good old fashioned cheddar to see her through.

At the mention of Nesta, Cassian’s eyes spark. How he could have forgotten for even one minute that Nesta was within a five miles radius after she’d let the shopping cart slip against his shins is beyond Feyre. “Don’t worry,” Cass says walking swiftly past Feyre and patting her on the shoulder the way he does when ‘the bro’ is winning, as Azriel likes to call it. “I’ve got this.”

Feyre feels Rhys pull up even with her as she watches her friend strut off to face the horrors waiting for him in Dairy.

“I love Cassian,” Rhys says, and Feyre turns back round to face him, “but I think he has a death wish.”

Feyre tisks and pushes the cart toward the lettuce. “Stop, Nesta isn’t that bad.”

“The fact that you need to specify-”


He holds his hands up in surrender and promptly plucks an apple from a nearby stand, juggling it in a way that’s supposed to seem impressive - never mind that it’s only one apple.

Romaine… baby greens… organic… iceberg… Ugh, nobody even likes iceberg. Classic Cesar will do, Feyre decides. Or possibly… The baby greens stare up at her.

She looks back at the watermelon crate Rhys and Cassian had been messing with and feels her stomach tighten. She and Rhys have been together for nearly five years now, if you count the three years they dated before getting hitched. She knows he wouldn’t pressure her. Not ever. But sometimes he makes an offhand comment and she wonders if Rhys might not be considering beyond her present wishes.

Feyre clears her throat. “Rhys?”

“Yes dah-ling,” he says. Neither of them turn around from their respective produce. Feyre’s not sure she could if she tried.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

She chances a peek over her shoulder and finds Rhys has swapped his one-apple juggling act for a rather thorough examination of the differences between Fuji and Granny Smith that has his brows knit together. “What’s that?” Rhys asks, and Feyre whips her head back to the salad options.

“About… not being too prepared.”

“Too prepared?”

The misters switch on unexpectedly, dousing the lettuce and Feyre’s outstretched hand with a fine layer of mist that take her by surprise. “Oh!” she yelps and jumps back, some combination of shock and nerves forcing her into motion. Rhys chuckles and slinks over to lean on the cart.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a cheeky grin. “Last I checked, water is actually good for you.”

“Very funny,” Feyre says, the humor not entirely making it past her lips. She feels rather than sees Rhys’s face twitch.

“What’s wrong? If this about Nesta again and whether or not you thinks she’s going to throw a tantrum over your choice of rabbit food, I promise I’ll protect you.”

“Do you want to have a baby?” Feyre blurts out before she can help herself. Her stomach does a back flip just asking the question. They’ve never talked about it before. Not since they were just starting out dating and trying to decide if this was even a good fit. She knows they both want kids. Maybe just a kid. But there’s something terrifying about the idea that Rhys might want one now.

“Feyre,” Rhys says, leaning forward and dropping to a whisper, “you know I enjoy making love to you at all hours of the day, but if you think me shoving a watermelon up my shirt is gonna piss the employees off, I don’t think they’ll appreciate us-”

“I’m serious,” Feyre says, cutting Rhys off. He blinks at her a few times, mouth parted open slightly. But Feyre wants to know. Is determined to know. “Do you want to have a baby?”

Rhys backs up a step. “Do you want to have a baby?”

“I asked you first.” A small flash of intrigue in those deep blue eyes searches her making her feel known and exposed in ways only he’s ever managed.

“Alright,” Rhys says, folding his arms and seeming to sense that she means business. Feyre draws a deep breath waiting. “You know I want to have a kid - eventually. If you’re asking, do I want one right now?” Feyre nods. “No. I don’t think so. I mean, shoot, if it happens, then great. I’ll welcome it with open arms and shove a watermelon up my shirt for nine months so you don’t feel so bad.” Feyre releases a small chuckle at that and Rhys smiles. “Why so curious about kids all of a sudden?”

Feyre rolls her eyes, more at herself than him, and tosses a hand up. “I don’t know. I saw you joking around with Cassian, but then you made that comment and you’ve said stuff in the past, that I just wondered if maybe you were…” She pauses, catches Rhys watching her intently with his brow raised in amusement, and lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Rhys pulls Feyre into his arms with his own chuckle and it feels like she can finally stop fretting. “No, you’re not. It’s good that we talk about these things. I just don’t understand why you’re so concerned with it? You know we can take our time. And if overgrown melons are all we end up with, we’ll be well fed.”

Feyre snorts. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you can’t deny it’s a good idea.”

“No, I really can’t-”

“Get that out of your nose!”

Both Feyre’s and Rhys’s heads snap to the side where Nesta has found the produce section along with Cassian… who has shoved a small wedge of brie up his nose much to Nesta’s chagrin.

Feyre grimaces. “At least it’s shrink wrapped?” Rhys offers, and then laughs when Feyre smacks her head into his chest with a groan. “Come on,” he says, rubbing up her arms a few times for confidence. “Let’s go sort them out.”

“Go on. I just have to grab some lettuce first.” Rhys nods, heading off.

Feyre looks back down at her options and decides, maybe the baby greens aren’t so bad after all. A nice watermelon salad could be good for spring.

Send me a prompt + otp or brotp and I’ll write a drabble!

anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on teen wolf? especially writing wise? I have stopped watching regularly around 3b and I wasn't too convinced by what I've seen here on tumblr about the rest of the episodes, in particular 6x10...

i will always have a special place in my heart for the characters i love that the show gave me. i still blog about teen wolf, i write fic, and i enjoyed s1-3a. saying that, i don’t particular enjoy what the show became, or look back on the experience i had as a fan with much nostalgia (i think we were v much used and abused as a fandom online, for sure). i love my part of fandom, though.

short answer about the writing… it was terrible because

1) there was a complete lack of planning and follow through

2) we love this idea/actor/theme for 30 seconds but oops now we don’t

3) they completely misused their social media as a way to a) explain away/correct plot holes in their own writing and b) encourage viewers to watch a show they implied to be many things that it turned out to… not be any of

long answer

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a-hawk-and-her-bow  asked:

Can you do a Killian's first "Fathers Day" with Henry wanting to surprise him and gets Emma to help?


Emma gives a slight jump at the sound of her son’s voice. They’ve been sitting in companionable silence in the living room for the past twenty minutes. Henry with his phone, and Emma with her book.

“Father’s Day is Sunday and I think we should do something for Killian.”

She looks at him dumbfounded before her face settles into affectionate pride.

“Don’t look at me like that, mom. I’m not talking anything big here.”

“I think it’s a great idea. What did you want to do?” Emma asks, resisting her compulsion to go up and hug him. It’s one thing for him to accept Killian as his mom’s husband and part of the family, but it is another thing entirely for him to consider him a father figure.

Henry gives a light shrug. “I’m not really sure. Neither of us have really done the whole ‘Father’s Day’ thing and I don’t exactly have a budget here, being a teenager and all.”

“You knew what you were doing when you spent that pawn shop paycheck on a new XBox,” Emma teased, trying not to think too heavily on the fact that honestly none out of the three of them had much Father’s Day experience, making a mental note to do something for David as well.

“Back to the point here: what should I do? What should I get him? He likes rum and boats, that’s about as far as I’ve gotten.”

Emma huffs out a laugh at that. “Well the last I checked, they don’t let 14 year-olds buy liquor, and I’m sure a boat is well outside your budget range. Honestly kid? I think the best thing you could give him is the knowledge that you see him as a father figure. Maybe just pick out a card or something.”

Henry considers this for a moment, nodding along with his mom’s advice. “Wait,” his face lights up, “I have an even better idea.”

Killian wakes with the sun. He always has, but now he has the pleasure of waking up next to his wife.

He admires the flecks of sunlight shining on her hair, refraining from digging under it to find her forehead to kiss (she’s a stomach sleeper), knowing it would wake her at a far earlier hour than she would appreciate. As he rolls over to get up, he notices a bottle on his nightstand.

It is one of the bottles of the rum Emma likes to buy him because it has a pirate captain on the label. The bottle is empty, however–empty of alcohol at least. There is a rolled up parchment inside, and he immediately goes to inspect it.


You probably don’t know this since you’re from another realm and all, but in this realm, today is Father’s Day. It’s a cheesy Hallmark holiday, but I never really had the chance to celebrate it before.

It’s probably safe to say that I have about as much experience having a father as you have being one, and even though you aren’t technically my father, you are my dad. If you ask me, that’s much more important.

Happy Dad’s Day.


It takes him a moment to process all that he’s just read, and he’s not sure that he emotionally can at this hour. He places the note back on his bedside table, slides on his flannel pajama pants, and heads down to the kitchen in search of the Pop Tarts.

Easter Pranks

Originally posted by crankgameplaysreactions


Summary: Twin!Sister and Ethan have had a prank war every Easter for as long as they can remember. This year, things take a turn for the scandalous.

A/N: Hello all! Hoppy Easter! Here’s an extra Easter themed (kinda) fic! Hope you guys enjoy it! Don’t worry, I have another batch of requests I’ll be working on this week so I’ll get to those soon! Just had this idea while I was in the shower, so I decided to write it :) As always, italics signify the inner monologue, or in this case the little angel and demon on their shoulder, of a character. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 720, smol blurb

Request some more!

“Ethan!” Your scream was heard throughout your apartment as you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“You snooze you lose sis, set an alarm next Easter yeah?” Ethan laughed as he ran out of your room and down the stairs.

You sat in your bed, drenched in ice cold water, fuming. It was like this every year. You’re not sure when it started, maybe in the womb, but Easter Sunday was a free-for-all prank war between you two. One year you put bleach in his hair gel and he had to go to Easter mass blonde. Another year, Ethan hid a raw egg among all the Easter eggs and when you found it and cracked it on your head expecting a burst of confetti and candy you were instead met with a sore spot and egg yolk in your hair.

This year you’d gotten a rude wake up call, it’s not your fault your boyfriend had kept you up all night doing… stuff.

Your boyfriend came in, he’d been in your en suite hiding from Ethan, laughing as you shivered in bed, “Aw, Ethan got you already?”

“Yes! I overslept because of you so he woke me up with a bucket of ice water,” you said with a pout on your lips.

“Guess it’s time for a nice, warm shower,” he said, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your freezing lips. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you giggled as he lifted you out of bed and carried you to the shower.


Ethan was downstairs eating all your cereal when he heard the water turn on. What a fool, he thought to himself, so vulnerable! It was almost too easy.

He snickered as he made his way to your water heater. Wait! The little angel on his shoulder said. You know the rules! You can’t prank twice in a row! You said so in the pact of ‘06!

Ethan shrugged, you have a point.

Who cares? The little devil on his shoulder argued. If you prank twice in a row, the prank war is called off till next year. This way, you’ll get off clean and unscathed until next year!

Ah yes, that’s an even better point. Ethan smirked as he turned the heater off, expecting another high pitched scream to ring throughout the apartment.


That was certainly not his twin sisters voice.

He ran up the stairs, who-was that-in the shower-whAT? He couldn’t even keep a steady train of thought as he flew up the stairs and tore open the bathroom door.


“Dude shut up he’ll hear you!” You whispered as your boyfriend shivered in the cold water spewing from the shower head.

“Easy for you to say you’re not in the cold water,” his teeth chattered as he tried to move out of the stream of water.

“Do you even remember how I was woken up??” You yelled in a hushed whisper.

“What the fuck?” You two heard Ethan yell outside the curtain.

“Ethan get out!” You cried, hiding behind your secret boyfriend as Ethan pulled the shower curtain back.

“Mark what the fuck are you doing?!” Ethan yelled, whoever he expected to be behind the curtain it definitely wasn’t his boss.

“Uh, you know. Conserving water? The droughts not over you know,” Mark said nervously, a blush covering his cheeks, as he held a shampoo bottle at his groin.

“Ethan! Out!” You screamed, chucking a bar of soap at him. “The war’s off! You know the rules!” You cried, mortified, as he backed away from the curtain.

“You could’ve told me you know,” Ethan yelled, still in the bathroom but at least he was covering his eyes now. “You have my blessing Mark, just don’t do… this while I’m here,” he said as he backed out of the bathroom.

“Hey buddy? Best friend of mine? Will you turn the heater back on?” Mark asked with a laugh as goosebumps rose all over his skin.

“I suddenly have no idea how to work the heater!” Ethan yelled up the stairs. “I’ll be at the office bleaching my eyes if you guys need me.”

“Ethan!” Your scream melted into Mark’s laugh and rang throughout the now empty apartment.

What an eventful Easter morning.

A/N 2.0 There you go peeps. Hope you enjoyed this one! It was really fun to write this, hope you guys got a kick out of imagining Ethan’s reaction to seeing a naked Mark in the shower with his sister! 😂

Thanks to @ myself for requesting this fic. I’ve been wanting to write something besides romantic ethan x readers hehe (not to say I don’t love writing ethan x readers! I love the smol blu boi! just wanted a little break is all)

Request some more pls and thank 

guardianaelita  asked:

Here's a sweet one if you're interested! I'd like a scenario where the Phantom Thief guys plus Goro and Mishima are with an S/O who fosters kittens or puppies in their home and how they might take care of the kittens or puppies with S/O. Thank you so much and the gifs add a nice touch for visualization so thank you for that too!

Oh god this is adorable. ;A; Thank you so much for sending this!! And I’m glad you like the GIFs and that they help! ^^ I only did the main boys because it was getting too long, but I’ll be glad to add the other two if there’s enough interest! Enjoy!


Akira was well aware that S/O fostered kittens, as evidenced by the fact that they constantly fretted over finding good homes for them; however, he had never actually seen the kittens himself.

Akira would offer his aid to S/O if he noticed them stressing out, but they would decline, saying that they didn’t want to impose. He could only remain uninvolved for so long, though; once he witnessed S/O nearly faint from endlessly researching and tending to the kittens, he decided to covertly assist them. With his plethora of connections, Akira was easily able to find loving homes for the kittens, much to S/O’s astonishment.

“Akira, so many people just came by today and requested to adopt a kitten. You’re lucky that you visited now rather than sooner,” S/O stated, closing the front door to their apartment behind their raven-haired boyfriend.

“That’s amazing, babe. I’m happy for you,” Akira said placidly, wearing a fond smile on his face. Internally, a pang of guilt tinged his heart; S/O had worked so strenuously, and although he had interfered with good intentions, Akira involuntarily doubted his actions. After all… the last time he involved himself with another’s affairs was the moment of his arrest.

Akira certainly didn’t desire to withhold anything from S/O, so he inhaled deeply before confessing, “Babe… there’s something I have to tell you-”

“You’re behind it, aren’t you?” they interrupted. Akira attempted to avert his onyx gaze, but S/O ceased his movement by delicately grasping his chin and swiftly pecking him on the lips. “I’m not mad. You wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t worried, so I’m sorry for that. It felt wrong to ask since you already do so much… but thank you. Just give me a warning next time, okay?”

Akira nodded, and a wave of relief surged through his formerly tensed nerves. “Thank you for understanding, and I’m sorry for not telling you. I’ll leave you a calling card next time,” he teased.

“You’re a terrible thief. If your target’s expecting it, how can you steal anything?” S/O jested.

“Arsène managed just fine,” Akira remarked, snaking his arms around S/O’s waist and kissing them atop their head.

S/O sighed. “He’s a bad influence… come on, let me show you the kittens.”

Guiding him by the hand, S/O led Akira to the room that the small creatures were inhabiting, and the instant he stepped through the doorway, various kittens gathered around his ankles and rubbed their cheeks on him.

“Th-that was fast,” S/O mumbled, baffled by the kittens’ sudden affection. They steered their stare toward Akira. “Are you a cat whisperer?”

His expression was neutral as his inky eyes met S/O’s. “Meow?”

“Oh no, the cat’s out of the bag now,” they snickered. “Still, they seem to really like you.”

The symphony of purrs confirmed their observation, and Akira crouched down to stroke the kittens’ cheeks. “Maybe I could come here to help you out every so often.”

“That would be purr-fect,” S/O replied playfully.

Akira considered proposing since he was already crouching down… but he had arranged future plans for that. Meanwhile, he aided S/O by advertising through his network of resources; in addition, he’d drop by S/O’s apartment with supplies or treats for the kittens. They absolutely adored him, and the feeling was mutual; dejection overcame him whenever one of them was adopted, yet he was exuberant by the prospect of S/O fostering more kittens. Spending time surrounding by kittens and a loved one; what more could one ask for?


Although they had been dating for a couple of years, S/O was always unusually reluctant regarding the matter of allowing Ryuji to visit their home, so he was quite astonished when they invited him over one day.

“I… need your help right now-”

“I’m on my way,” Ryuji replied without hesitation, then he immediately departed for the address S/O sent him. He didn’t want to assume anything; however, he couldn’t dispel his concern over the possibility that S/O was in danger.

When he arrived at the designated location, they were anxiously waiting outside, and Ryuji darted toward them. “Babe! You okay? What’s wrong?”

“My puppy keeps running away, and I’m not fast enough to catch her. I’m sorry to ask, but can you help me?” S/O implored, a hint of guilt in their voice.

Ryuji swiftly pecked their forehead and proclaimed, “Don’t worry; I got this.” He certainly held true to that promise, and S/O spectated in awe as he easily outran the energetic puppy. He returned to S/O while cradling the enthusiastic creature in his strong, chiseled arms. They briefly longed to switch places with the puppy.

“C’mon, if you’re done checkin’ me out, let’s get her inside.” Ryuji’s playful voice snapped S/O out of their reverie, and a scarlet blush dusted their cheeks as they narrowed their eyes at their boyfriend, whose lips were curled into a smirk.

“D-don’t give me that face, I was looking at her,” S/O denied, gesturing toward the panting pup.

“Uh huh.” S/O’s head was spinning from the teasing tone in his voice, and as much as they wanted to wipe that pompous leer off his face, they instead pivoted around and beckoned Ryuji to follow them.

“Y-you’re lucky I love you so much. Come on, let’s go.” The couple strolled to the front door and S/O hesitated before opening it. “You should go first. Just in case, you know?”

“Yeah, good idea.” Ryuji’s voice was laden with mischief as he said, “That way you can get a nice view of the back.”

S/O was about to retort when he slipped through the door. They hastily followed suit and shut the door behind them, subsequently sliding off their shoes along with Ryuji. S/O waited in anticipation. 3… 2… 1…

As S/O expected, a flock of puppies bounded toward the duo, most of them tackling and sniffing Ryuji with curiosity.

“W-whoa! What the hell?!” Ryuji’s bottom collided with the floor and he became enveloped by the swarm. “Hey! C-cut that out, that tickles… S/O, help!”

S/O spitefully snickered. “Hang on, I’m not done ‘checking you out’ yet.”

“Y-you’re gonna pay for this, dammit,” Ryuji stuttered, too exasperated to maintain the steadiness in his voice.

S/O sighed and promptly clapped their hands together. “Okay guys, that’s enough. Sit!” Most of the puppies obeyed, and S/O assisted Ryuji with uplifting himself.

“Thank you for helping me,” S/O said, now sitting across from Ryuji at the dining table with their fingers interlocked.

“It’s no problem, babe. But does this sorta thing happen often?”

S/O nodded, with dejection as clear as crystal etched onto their face. “There’s so many of them, so some manage to escape. I’ve tried putting up a gate, but they either force their way through of jump over it. Sometimes it takes an hour to corral them back inside.”

Ryuji’s gaze flitted to the pups that were surrounding him. “Hm… would it be okay if I helped?”

S/O’s eyes gleamed with joy. “Of course! They seem to have taken a liking to you. That’s only natural, though, since you’re the best, most amazing person ever.”

Ryuji blushed and averted his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I already said I’d help ya.” 

From that day forward, he frequently visited S/O to assist them with retrieving escaped puppies, but eventually he moved in with them and raised puppies alongside them. The duo was disheartened to see the puppies go, but they ensured that they were going to loving homes, and they continued to foster puppies together for years to come.


“Oh dear.”

A plethora of exuberant puppies dashed toward Yusuke and began leaping on his lithe, onyx-covered legs. He was quite perplexed, as he had no dealings with animals before; Madarame had strictly prohibited the ownership of pets, and Yusuke lacked the proper funding to tend to himself, let alone a pet.

He directed his bewildered gaze toward S/O, who merely responded with an apologetic smile. “They’re not exactly trained yet, but they’re harmless.”

The redundant pitter-patter of nails on the wooden floor in addition to the tugging of his pants was enough to dangle Yusuke on the brink of insanity. 

“I command you to sit,” he ordered firmly, eyes narrowing at the rambunctious creatures, and to S/O’s astonishment, the puppies obeyed. 

“Yusuke… how did you do that? I’ve been trying for weeks now.”

“I-I’m not quite sure myself… perhaps they are eager to model for me?” A glint had manifested in Yusuke’s silver eyes, and he elevated one of his hands to clasp his chin while the other cradled his elbow. 

S/O knew that inquisitive pose, and wheels suddenly spurred to life in their mind as they proclaimed, “Hey, do you think you’d be interested in helping me out?”

Yusuke slowly dropped his arms to his side and flashed a questioningly look at S/O. “My dear, why would you ask such a thing? I would be honored to assist you with anything.” He paused to survey S/O’s unsure expression. “Perhaps you would like me to train them? I am uncertain as to whether my aid would prove to be beneficial, but… if I’m by your side, then I am far more confident in my abilities.”

A faint blush tinted S/O’s cheeks; they could never comprehend how he managed to say such things with a straight face. Regardless, they strolled past the obedient puppies and perched themself on their toes to peck Yusuke on the cheek. “That would be very helpful. Thank you.” 

S/O was about to rock back on their heels until Yusuke slithered his arms around their waist and tweaked them closer. He delicately clutched their chin with his pale, cold fingers and fixed his stare on their lips. “You missed,” the artist breathed, barely brushing S/O’s lower lip with his thumb.

An abrupt sneeze startled the couple and shattered any romance that was wafting in the air of S/O’s home. The couple simultaneously whipped their heads to the source of the sound, and they noticed a line of docile puppies wagging their tails, patiently awaiting another order.

The duo untangled themselves and flushed scarlet, avoiding the eyes of the other.

“P-pardon me, I failed to recall that there was an audience,” Yusuke stuttered, bashfully peeking at S/O’s flustered form.

“N-no, it’s okay. Um, l-let’s get to work.”

Yusuke’s adeptness with training the puppies never ceased to impress S/O. Occasionally, he would instruct the creatures to sit or lie down for the purpose of sketching them, and he grew increasingly more fond of them every time he visited. 

The feeling was mutual; whenever Yusuke accompanied S/O in their residence, the puppies would sit at attention, awaiting an order to approach him. Sometimes he would tease them and force them to wait; they always wiggled and fidgeted with impatience, and it was by far the most endearing thing about them. 

Even as puppies came and went, their boundless affection always remained, and Yusuke was grateful fr the opportunity to fulfill his once-forgotten childhood dream of owning a pet, albeit temporarily.