idk what to write so


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Building characters up for the big ending of the book without really knowing how the “final battle” is actually going to play out

Originally posted by zorpeezi-squeezy

Why Draco Malfoy is in love with Harry Potter

(if ya wanna read part 2)

Draco fell in love with the way Harry’s lashes framed the green of his eyes like artwork; with the fine hairs on the nape of his neck that were softer than any other part of him. With each slice of Harry that contrasted the harsh, sharp angles of his jaw and collarbones and shoulders: the kindness in his eyes, the flush in his cheeks, the curve of his lower back…

He fell in love with the subtle coarseness of Harry’s voice in the mornings and the way he only drank his tea with honey in it. With the way he knew never knew the words to the songs on the radio, so he made up his own.

Draco fell in love with the way Harry always tried valiantly to cook and never succeeded. He fell in love with late nights and the smell of stale tobacco that clung to his shirts like static. With each game of chess when he only halfway lost to Harry on purpose because he loved the smug little smile that only appeared once in a blue moon if he was lucky. 

He fell in love each time their eyes met knowingly over silence at the dinner table, each time Harry’s snoring kept him up for the entire night, and each time they fought over who’s hair was clogging the shower drain (it was always Harry’s).

Draco fell in love all over again each time he stopped long enough to think about the fact that Harry was irrevocably, irreversibly, undeniably his. 

God only knew what would happen if that ever changed.

Goodnight, loves <3<3<3 Thought I’d post one last thing before I turn in. I hope everyone has a wonderful week. I know times are really really hard for a lot of people, so I am gonna do what I can to bring some positivity and love to the Tumblr-verse! I am always available if you need someone to talk to or vent to or complain to or anything of that nature. I love you guys xx


Usually Draco falls asleep on the couch while watching the film he and Harry picked for the night. Harry is seated with his legs under himself at the far end of the couch, Draco sprawled with his head on Harry’s lap in a silent beg for hair strokes. Like every night Draco can’t stay awake to see the end of the film, falling asleep ten minutes before its end. Harry, with a smile lifting the corner of his mouth slips himself from under Draco’s soft hair and (with the help of a lightening charm even if he wouldn’t admit it) picks Draco up from the couch to deliver him to their bed. Draco wakes up, mumbling “ ‘m not bloody girl” in Harry’s chest, straightening the hold around his boyfriend’s neck. “It’s not like you have to be a girl to be treated like a princess” says Harry smirking, arrived in their bedroom and softly putting a sleepy Draco on their bed “mm Potter always saying the right thing”. Harry would chuckle, slipping himself under the sheets. After a moment, Draco’s nasal drawl breaks the silence “I think you deserve something in return for saving the princess”.

I just feel like Lance is this type,

*get’s papercut* *complains about it ALL day long* *everyone is annoyed*

*is actually bleeding out* “haha, how many free stays in the pod before i have to pay rent?” *everyone is freaking out*

Like he’d joke about it to make it seem less serious because he’s scared and if he’s joking it’s fine. Litltle things he’ll complain about though, because there’s no real danger there

  • Luke and Jocelyn living in a cramped little apartment their first year in New York while they were still adjusting to the mundane life style
  • Luke working a bunch of jobs to make ends meet while Jocelyn is pregnant
  • Jocelyn waiting impatiently for Luke to get home from work the first time she feels Clary kick so he can feel too
  • Luke picking out the perfect stuffed animal for Clary and bringing it home her first day out of the hospital (it’s a little bear that she still sleeps with)
  • Luke staying up late with baby Clary while he studied for his written test to become a police officer so Jocelyn could get some sleep
  • Jocelyn struggling to balance grieving her family and raising the daughter she loves with all her heart, and Luke supporting her every step of the way
  • Jocelyn and Luke keeping track of all of Clary’s milestones in one of those Baby’s First books 
  • Their first christmas as a mundane family included watching the christmas specials on a tiny tv (Clary cried at all the claymation cartoons)

AU for 12x10

Sam hasn’t been blackout drunk for a couple of years, not since the night that he got Dean back from demonhood and put away nearly an entire bottle of Jack. That time he woke up face down in his pillows, fully clothed with his dislocated shoulder shooting violent bolts of pain down his spine. This time, he comes to with the sky wheeling white above him, his clothes damp and his knees muddy and twigs and leaves in his hair. He sits up, hauls himself to his feet and staggers forward a dozen yards or so to emerge onto a jogging track, a woman in bright lycra thudding past with headphones in her ears. His legs are bruised and aching and his mind is… fuck, so foggy, a great roiling cloud of nothingness, and he has to stop thinking about that right fucking now if he wants to stay calm. He runs his hands through his hair, dislodging a beetle and a shower of debris, tries to straighten up his clothes. He finds his phone in his pocket, the screen shattered and dead. Great. But the next woman down the track has a guy alongside her, a personal trainer maybe, so Sam steps forward hoping that he won’t intimidate them both away.

“Hey,” he says, hoarse. “Can I – I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone?” 

Keep reading

Gavin first meets Michael as he’s being thrown out of a bar after being caught pick-pocketing. Gavin made the rather stupid mistake of trying to take the wallet of a guy three times his size, with no backup, no weapon on him, and only his drunken impulses to guide his actions. The huge guy felt his sloppy hands, grabbed Gavin’s wrist, and threatened to beat him to death. Gavin would insist later that he was already making a plan to get out of it, already spinning the starts of lies in his head, the start of a flashy smile. But if he’s being honest he was scared. He was young, he’s been in this trash of a city for all of three months, and he has no way out of this.

“Hey!” A voice calls besides Gavin and he looks to find a short curly-haired man who couldn’t be much older than himself, freckles spattering his scowl. “The dude is like eighty pounds, leave him alone.”

The man gripping Gavin’s wrist turns to the other, his snarl getting deeper. “Fuck off, this is between me and the twink.”

The strange savior insists again he find someone his own size to pick on. The giant again tells him to fuck off. At some point a punch is thrown, the police are called, and Gavin and the stranger get shoved out the back entrance being told to never come back.

“Thanks for that,” Gavin chirps to the stranger, holding out his hand to shake. “I would’ve been ok, but thanks for the help anyway. The smegpot looked outright mean.”

Keep reading


I’ve realized a lot of my oc’s are one hit wonders – they stick around for a month and then everything that can be written feels like it’s been tackled, the passion dies, etc. It feels like, as I trudge into the second month, I’ve locked myself into a box. How do I revive them? Can I revive them? What are the problems I need to solve? This is literally just for me to have something to look at as I’m building a new character – a list of do’s and don’t’s I’ve put in my pocket along the way – but if it helps you, feel free to reblog! 

  1. Can my character be written year round? Will I lose inspiration as the seasons change? If the character is holiday or mood specific, what can I do to make sure I’m still interested during those times of year that opposite it? For example, I’m a person that really gets into Christmas. If my character is Halloween or horror-based, what can I do that will stop me from dropping them when I wanna write things cute and jolly? What can I do to make sure they are as flexible as myself?

  2. Am I into the character itself or just their aesthetic? I need to be 100% into my muse so that I can write them in any situation – preferably tons of situations. If I remove my character from their mainverse, will I still be as interested? Am I more into my world building than I am my muse? If so, what can I do to fix that? First and foremost, I need to set their story to the side and focus on their core. 

  3. Am I setting myself up for writing the same thing over and over again? It’s bound to happen, but am I paving the way? For example: does my character have a secret they will inevitably end up sharing 1,000 times? Can I handle that? What should I do to prepare for that? Should I put a limit on how many threads I hold in my mainverse? Should I make my mainverse a singleverse and if so, in what verse will I interact with the majority of other writers? Brainstorm. On paper or to a friend. 

  4. Am I just doing this to force myself out of a funk or am I really passionate about my muse? Passion gets me the furthest; it’s the requirement of requirements. On another note, am I taking things too seriously? Am I worrying too much over how they will be received? Am I worrying too much over whether or not I’ll drop them? A little worry is okay, a little worry is recommended, but I tend to talk myself into the ground if I let it consume the character building process. I must remind myself this is just a hobby and anything is worth a try. Even if it fails – it’s worth a try. 

The sign is the first thing she sees when she wakes, dangling as it is from the top of the door that leads to the bathroom.

At nearly 33 weeks into her pregnancy, it’s a nice reminder that Castle still finds her attractive since, to Kate’s own mind, she’s rapidly approaching the size of a small killer whale as her first-born grows in size and strength with each passing week.

She generally has kept quiet about her feelings on her outward appearance, far too grateful that her child’s heart and still beating, and that her pregnancy was viable after taking a bullet to the abdomen.

She hadn’t known, had never even paused to realize that she was late or that the sweeping nausea might have been from something more than the stress of juggling her duties as Captain and the investigation into Loksat. If she had, Kate would have never crossed the lines or taken all the risks she did.

Today, perhaps moreso than any other year in her life, she’s merely grateful for the fact that she’s lived to see 37 and that her wake up call arrives in the form of her unborn baby kicking at her internal organs as a good morning greeting.

“Yes, I feel you, peanut,” Kate says once she’s rolled out of bed, bones popping and muscles stretching with movement, “Good morning to you, too,” she adds with a hand lying low on her stomach, the grin automatic when her child’s steady kick vibrates against her palm.

She’s still standing there, counting the baby’s kicks as the minutes tick by, when the low hum of Happy Birthday begins from somewhere out in the office. She knows the voice as well as she knows her age and her home address, and even though Kate rolls her eyes at her ridiculous husband, she’s grinning by the time he’s made it through the bedroom door.

He’s singing full voice now, a booming baritone that always surprises her with the possibilities of talent within, a bright grin plastered on his face that falters when he discovers an empty bed. “Oh, you’re awake,” Castle says, adjusting his grip on the breakfast tray loaded with all of her favorite things and one extra large, vanilla cupcake with white frosting and glittering, multi-colored sprinkles that are shimmering under the lights of the enormous sparkler candle that’s rapidly burning itself out.

“Mmm,” Kate hums, pushing away the memory of another day in this room with a similar cupcake and a phone call that nearly cost them both their lives and their marriage. “Your offspring wanted to say good morning, ruined your surprise by playing soccer with my bladder.”

“Well,” Castle huffs, approaching the bed to gently place the tray onto the mattress as the candle gives one last burst of light and flickers out. He’s knelt down in front of her a second later, a stern gaze fixed on her protruding stomach, “Cosmo, my man, you can’t wake your mommy by kicking her,” he instructs to her stomach, grinning at the automatic eye roll Kate gives at his use of the nickname she hates. “It’s rude,” Rick continues, framing her belly with his hands and pressing one quick kiss to the fabric of her sleep shirt, “You’ve gotta wait till she’s awake and then kick her, bud. Play by the rules, yeah? It’s mommy’s birthday and we want her to have a good one.”

As usual, her husband’s voice is the calming balm to their little one, the frequent kicks stilling at the low timbre of his words. After a few minutes pass, Castle tilts his head back to grin at Kate in triumph, leaning forward for one more touch of his lips to her stomach, “That’s my boy.”

Back on his feet, he dives in to capture her mouth for a long kiss, that lop-sided, little boy grin spreading against his lips once they’ve parted, “Happy Birthday, Kate,” he mutters against her mouth, coaxing out a smile from her and a second, much quicker peck.

“Thanks, babe,” she sighs, easing herself back onto the mattress with only a muffled groan, already regretting taking a seat as she’ll undoubtedly have to get up to pee in a few minutes. But settled comfortably enough, Kate glances towards the breakfast tray, snagging a cubed piece of pineapple from the selection and popping it into her mouth.

“You know, we could have a girl,” she tells Castle once she’s chewed and swallowed her bite, “And you could be giving her an identity crisis.”

“Nah, this is a boy,” Castle replies, pulling the burnt out candle from the cupcake and discarding it into the trashcan, “I can feel it.”

Her lips twitch at that, just the slightest waver to telegraph her amusement, but he still notices, bringing a hand to his chest and extending his bottom lip in an over dramatic pout, “Your doubt wounds me, Beckett.”

Munching on her second pineapple cube, she shrugs at him, swallowing it down, “Didn’t you think Alexis was a boy before she was born?”

“Rookie mistake,” Castle dismisses with a wave of his hand, “I’m older and wiser now, and I’m gonna be right, you wait and see.”

This time, Kate laughs outright, swiping a finger through the frosting on her cupcake and lifting it to her lips. “Even if you are right, we aren’t naming him Cosmo,” she says, pausing to lick her fingertip clean and doing her best not to grin at the way her husband’s eyes go dark and lusty.



“What? I figured now was the time to ask.”

“Never gonna happen,” she replied, picking up a piece of bacon from the plate and breaking it in half, passing the larger part to him, “Consider it one of my birthday presents.”


a princess; the loveliest one i’ve ever seen,

I Want to Make You Smile

HELLO!! I have so many Solangelo fanfic prompts and it makes me soooo happy. So this is one that @disenchanted-rose sent me where they slept together but one of them left before the other could wake up and now they don’t know what to do. Sorry @disenchanted-rose but if u wanted NSFW content I rlly don’t like to do that so this is free of it. Let’s just keep it at midnight kisses and shirtless boys :D 

 Idk if I messed up the ages, but I know Nico is currently 14 and Will is 15.


 Nico di Angelo’s life was always a mess. His mother, his sister, his father, the fact that he was the gayest person in the word. Life just hated him. He went through puberty and it just dumped whole new problems on his shoulders, giving him nightmares, causing him to raise the dead when he had surges of anger, giving him suicidal thoughts. He thought the world would be over when he found himself falling for a certain doctor at the age of eleven. 

 When he was twelve, the boy with golden hair started to show concern for him. He was constantly showing up in Nico’s cabin, making sure he was taking his medication and that he was alright. Sometimes he would stay and they would talk well into the night. Whenever Will left, it was as if a part of his soul was ripped away as his footsteps echoed through the empty room. He was surrounded by darkness, and his light left. 

 When he was thirteen, almost everyone found out. Percy, Jason, Annabeth, Piper, Leo, Reyna, Frank, Hazel. All of the people who where remotely his friends. Will was the only one who didn’t. Frank and Hazel, bless their souls, let him be and didn’t force him to do anything. Percy, Jason, and Leo where constantly asking him questions, telling him to just ask Will out. Piper and Annabeth where constantly playing matchmaker dropping not-so-subtle hints to Will. Reyna assured him that Will liked him even though she has no idea who this boy really is. They where in his hair, holding their breath for the moment. 

When he was fourteen, it happened. Fourteen was a young age, and it wasn’t an age for serious commitment. But sometimes things happen and you find yourself in awkward situations. Maybe fourteen was the worse time to do it, maybe he should’ve waited, but words come out of your mouth, you do things without thinking, and it just happens. 

 Will came in for another check up. They where side by side on Nico’s bed and the light was fading outside, making it hard to see Will. But Nico memorized the lines of his face. He could see him, even now. He saw Will’s easy smile and shining eyes. All he wanted to do was kiss him. Nico must have been making a face, because Will stopped smiling. 

 "Nico? Are you okay?“ 

 "Ummhumm,” Nico said, pursing his lips. He wouldn’t get upset as something as stupid as this. It didn’t fool Will, who has been treating him two years. Will puts his fingers on Nico’s chin and turns his face towards his. 

 "Nico. Really. What’s wrong?“ Nico wasn’t in his right mind. It was 1am and his eyes where starting to itch with sleep. So that’s why he planted his hands on Will’s thighs and pushed himself up so he was kissing Will Solace. Will was so surprised by this action that when Nico pushed, Will was pinned onto the bed. When they fell, Nico let out a startled "oomph”. They where splayed not so gracefully on the bed, and Nico felt himself blush. Will just giggled. 

“I guess I literally fell for you,” he says between giggles.

“Your a dork,” Nico says as if it’s a fact.

“I know,” Will says with a cheesy grin. Then, oh gods, he puts his hands on Nico’s cheeks.

“Let’s try that again with a lot more passion and a lot less surprise,” Will says, pressing his lips to Nico. Nico, being the awkward Son of Hades that he is, falls on Will again, knocking their foreheads together with a loud thump. Will giggles again as Nico apologizes and pushes himself off, but Will grabs his arm before he can take off and pulls him onto the bed beside him. They both lie on their backs now, staring at the ceiling of the cabin. For the first time ever, Nico notices the cracks in the roof that show glimpses of the stars outside as moonlight trickles in. Another beautiful thing he took for granted. 

“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” Will says dreamily. He takes a deep breath.


“You know who else is beautiful?”

“Gods, Will. If you say ‘me’ like in those memes I will–”

“You are, Neeks. You are the handsomest person I have ever met.” There is no stopping the heat that creeps into his cheeks, somehow making it’s way to his ears. Nico hides his face in his black hoodie, having no intention of coming out. 

“What are you doing?” Will says.



“Just shut up.” Nico feels Will maneuver himself on top of Nico on his hands and knees. 

“How am I supposed to kiss you if you’re hiding?” Will asks. Nico pokes his eyes out, and his eyes out only. Will unzipped Nico’s hoodie so that his face was showing. Will leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nico’s lips, and Nico responded by pushing back harder and harder, lifting his head up to meet Will. He then grabbed Will’s shirt and pulled him beside him so they where facing sideways and kissing. 

They moved closer and closer, relying on each other for heat as cold winds drifted through the cracks in the roof. Will’s hands where clenched in Nico’s hair as he kept pulling him closer and closer. Nico decided to place his hands around Will’s neck. Just to experiment, Nico slipped his hands under Will’s shirt and started to feel the lean muscles of his back. Will seemed pleased with this arrangement and Nico tried letting his hands travel up Will’s shirt instead of down. He honestly wasn’t sure what they where doing, but he almost died when Will let his hands slip up his shirt. They made trails of fires that created hidden scars on his back and it made him feel alive. More alive that Nico has ever felt. It made him feel less like a walking corpse with no soul and more like a person. For a moment, he forgot who he was. He was with the boy he loved since he was eleven.

Eventually the kisses slowed as it neared 3am. Both of them where bare chested and falling asleep. They stopped and Nico curled into a ball; his natural sleeping position. He was out in seconds, and was shivering. Will draped the covers over him and then climbed in with him, lying beside him and petting his hair. Nico murmured words of delight and occasionally said things in italian that Will did not understand. One phrase caught his attention though. 

“Ti amo, Will.” Will’s eyes widen. He has a basic understanding of languages to know that “amo” probably means “love”. 

Will fell asleep curled around Nico. 

Nico woke up first that morning. Sunlight was filtering in and Will’s golden curls shimmered. The drowsiness that caused his actions the night before was gone and he realized just what he did. I kissed Will Solace. Nico couldn’t believe it. It was too good to be true. Which means it wasn’t. It was something that may or may not have happened. Maybe they both fell asleep while talking and Nico dreamed all of those things. Maybe this was a one time thing that Will would yell about when he woke up. Of course he would yell at Nico and ask him what in Hades was he thinking. He would ask how he, the son of the god of the Underworld, could possibly think he’d have a shot with the boy made of sunlight, son of the god of the sun. How he could possibly think that the smile Will flashed could be his. He would say this was a fluke, and there is no way it could possibly happen.

So that’s why Nico maneuvered himself off of Will ever so slightly, creeping like a shadow without actually turning into a shadow. He threw on one of his black t-shirts and went down to the pavilion to try and act like everything was normal and avoid Will the entire day. The good thing was that people expected Nico to be lurking sadly in the shadows, so they didn’t notice the tears that streamed down his face. 

Nico was picking at his breakfast, having no intention of eating when a tray slammed down on the table, causing Nico, and the table to jump and Nico’s silverware to clatter to the floor. 

“What the hell, Nico?” Will shouts above him. Timidly, Nico lifts his eyes to Will’s angry blue ones. He was very aware of every eye on the two of them. 

“Are you really that cruel? Are you really as cold as you lead everyone to believe?” Will shouts. Nico finds himself shrinking smaller and smaller. 

Will,” Nico whispers urgently, “people are staring.” 

“I don’t f**king care if they’re staring. I can’t believe you left me alone! After everything!” Will’s face was red with anger. One of the campers drops their glass of orange juice on the floor. This outburst is outrageous. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if it was someone else, but it was Will Solace. Will, who had the voice of an angel that would sooth people into recovery. Will, who has never once said a curse word in his life, swearing at Nico. 

“I-I-I-I was s-s-s-scared,” Nico managed to tremble out. 

“Scared? SCARED? Of what? Me?” 

“Of course I was scared of you, Will,” Nico says, standing up as well. “Did you ever think of what I must be feeling when you bursted in here? I was scared, Will. I was scared you’d reject me. I was scared you where playing tricks on me. I was scared that you would laugh in my face and call me names because that’s all anyone has ever done! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I COULDN’T FACE YOU!” Will was silent for a moment. Everyone held their breath. To be honest, this was everyone’s ship, even if they didn’t know about Nico’s crush. 

“I thought you didn’t want me….” Will whispers.

“Of course I want you, Will. You’re all I ever wanted, ever since I was eleven.” Will looks like he is choking on tears.

“You too?” he says.


“Three years ago. You wanted this for three years.”


“I’ve loved you for five.” Nico let that sink in. Will liked him before Nico was even aware of his feelings. Not liked, loved. Ten-year-old Will Solace had a crush on Nico di Angelo. He fell in love with Nico when he was unstable and mourning his dead sister. He loved him even when he was a bigger mess than he is now. He loved him when they where just edging their way out of youth into the teenage life. 

“Why?” Nico finds himself asking. 

“Because. I knew there was a boy underneath all of those shadows. And I wanted him.” Nico reached over the table to hug Will, burying his face in his shoulder. Tears where cascading down his face, soaking Wil’s shirt. Will didn’t seem to mind. He let Nico cry as he petted his black hair. 

“Gods, I love you, Will,” Nico says.

“I do too,” Will says, smiling at Nico. The hall cheers, nearly scaring Will and Nico. Everyone has been waiting for this for so long, it’s a miracle it finally happened. Seeing Nico’s alert expression, Will took him away from the pavilion to the fire pit. 

“This was where I fell in love. I saw the firelight dancing over your skin and your eyes that held a ghost of the boy who was. A boy who would smile. I wanted to make you that boy again.” Nico collapsed on the ground.

“Nico, are you okay? Do I need to get a medic?”

“I’ve never been better,” Nico says, giving his first real smile in a while. It makes his eyes brighten in a way that makes Will smile even brighter and Nico is hit with the fact of how much he missed smiling like this. Goofily and joyfully in the face of those he loved. 



Random dialogue prompts!

“I know who you are.”
“I’m talking to a bar of soap.”
“Just close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
“Well, it’s not TECHNICALLY illegal!”
“Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?”
“Stop focusing on the bad things, it’s the good things that keep us going.”
“Wait, you’re not dead.”
“Yeah? Well one day these tears are gonna punch you in the face!!!”
“What are you in for?”

when you wish upon a star,
makes no difference who you are…

nothing will happen.
the stars have bigger concerns
than an insignificant mortal
on a doomed planet.

do you honestly think
that the stars will pause
in the organization of the universe,
in the telling of stories eons old,
in the whispering of secrets you could not fathom,

to grant your silly little wish?
poor boy,
you have much to learn.

—  the stars do not care. | tm