A lot of you guys won’t know this lol. I don’t think Abby knows this tbh. I have like really bad anxiety and I was prescribed medical marijuana to calm my nerves whenever I’m freaked the hell out. Anyways, I was having a bad anxiety attack last night and wrote this cute little fluff while I was high. SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR LUCIELS ROUTE.
“ MC ” Luciel mumbled in your ear. You were curled up in his lap, his hoodie draped over you. It was late at night, the only thing illuminating the room was his computer screen.
You were currently in a fuzzy, half asleep state of mind. Everything around you was a blur and you could barely even notice the mention of your name escaping your boyfriends chapped lips.
Repetitive keyboard tapping grew less and less annoying the more time you spent with him. It grew therapeutic, in fact.
“ MC ” Luciel repeated, “ would you like me to take you to bed? ”
“ Not unless you joined me ” your voice was nothing but a soft whisper. Luciel turned off his monitor, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. Gently, he placed you down on the bed, laid next to you, and pulled the thick duvet over your shivering figures.
After what seemed like forever, you couldn’t manage to convince the wave of sleep to wash over you. You settled with staying awake, nuzzling yourself further into your boyfriend’s arms, and listening to his racing heart.
So much for being half asleep.
“ What have I done ” you could faintly hear Luciel mumbled, “ What have I ever done for you to send down someone so perfect to love me? ”
The heat began to rush to your cheeks as you listened to his barely audible words.
“ I never deserved her and I never will. I don’t deserve someone who comes over and keeps me healthy, whether it be cooking so that I don’t live off of chips, cleaning so I don’t catch some weird virus, or making sure I’m not sleep deprived. Someone who keeps me mentally in check. Someone who welcomes me with open arms no matter what. Someone undeniably beautiful, inside and out. Someone who can make me laugh and cry. Someone who….. someone who loves me for the sick person I am. You know, I’ve always hated you for making me this way, but if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met her. My precious MC. Was this your plan all along? ”
You held back your smile. You didn’t want the possibility of him knowing you were awake. Had he really thought of you this way?
“ What were you thinking? I’m a monster. Why would you give me such a perfect significant other? Thank you. There are no words that could even begin to explain how in love I am with her. MC is everything I’ve ever wanted. I want to start a new life with her one day… ”
You had to toss and turn to your side befit your grin stretched ear to ear. Luciel chuckled, firmly wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling his face into your neck, and fluttering his lids shut.
“ Please, God, hear my prayers. Allow me to protect her and guarantee her safety. Allow me to have as much luck on my side as possible for when I propose to her. Allow me to have a happy life with her…. with happy kids possibly. ”
You felt dazed. He was going to propose to you?
“ Allow me to live a life with MC as Saeyoung Choi….. not Luciel. I beg of you. I put all of my faith in you. Bless me this one last time. Amen… ”
Luciel let out a rugged sigh before whispering in your ear.
“ MC, I love you. I promise we will live a happy life together no matter what hardships we have to face ” he dragged his slim fingers along the exposed skin of your waist, “ Promise. ”
Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone! 2016 hasn’t been the best in many, many ways, including my writing. It’s been an extremely stressful year between school, college apps, and more, uh, global issues, and as a result I’ve spent less time on tumblr, less time talking to you guys, and definitely less time writing. Regardless, I managed to get 73,980 words written, which, while not nearly as many as last time, is still pretty good for this Hell Year. So here’s a huge thank you to everyone who’s continued to support me and read my writing. I love and appreciate you and your kind words so, so much, and here’s a roundup of the fics I managed to get out this year:
A Different Kind of Alpha Derek regains his footing and stands over the man, who can’t be more than twenty. He has brown hair and what might be moles, but it’s hard to tell past the layer of blood and grime he’s covered in. At the very least, Derek’s sure they’ve never met before.
The man looks up at him with wide eyes, his entire body trembling.
“I’m Derek Hale,” Derek begins again, letting his eyes bleed red to make his point. “Alpha of the-”
The man cuts him off once more, this time by passing out. From the looks of him, it’s a wonder it didn’t happen sooner.
In which Stiles is kidnapped by the alpha pack and manages to escape after two months of torture, only to end up on the territory of yet another alpha. Luckily for him, it turns out to be one Derek Hale, who definitely got more than he bargained for when he went to investigate a strange noise.
In a society where the werewolves have been enslaved by the humans, Derek has had enough owners to know who the real monsters are. He’s also had enough to know not to trust a word out of Stiles’ mouth, no matter how nice an act he puts on.The only thing that’s kept Derek going for all these years is guilt. Now, though, he has a mission that might just allow him to set some of this right.
If only he can get away from Stiles.
In which Derek’s been abused all his life, Stiles just wants to show him he’s not like his past owners, and they’ve both got a plan. The only question is, whose is more flawed?
Pack Human Things and Star Wars Slings In a fit of desperation, though it’s more likely to result in Stiles’ hand being bitten off than anything else, he flings out an arm to shove the hulking hellhound away. Well, at least he tries to. What actually happens is that his forearm barely makes it six inches off the ground before weakly flopping back down, sending pain shooting up his arm.
Fuck, what did this thing do to his shoulder?
Stiles cries out incoherently, trying to get someone’s attention. No one else shows up, though, and a moment later the creature looms even closer, and looks him right in the eyes. Oh, good. At least this whole thing is satisfying for someone. Right as Stiles is about to tear his gaze away and try to come to terms with his own mortality in a matter of seconds, the monster’s eyes flash blue. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved in his life.
“Not a monster,” he slurs, mostly to himself. “J’st Derek. Thank fuck.”
‘Stiles dislocates his shoulder in battle and Derek has to reset it’ au
Perhaps the worst part of this whole situation, worse than the torture and the pain and the desperation, is that Stiles is here to watch it all.
Well, not Stiles. Not really.
Derek realized long ago that the man before him is only a hallucination, a horrible trick conjured up by his lonely, strained, pitiful mind. He supposes some small part of himself finds the idea of Stiles being here comforting. For the rest of him? It’s torture. Well, torture on torture. It’s almost too much, the way Not-Stiles looks at him with those big, brown eyes, like he’s sad and angry and hopeless all at once.
Derek knows the feeling.
In which Derek is kidnapped, and after a head injury, begins to hallucinate Stiles. It doesn’t take long for the hallucinations to go from a nuisance to Derek’s safe space, nor does it take long after Derek’s rescue for him to spill a secret to the real Stiles.
“Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re right, Stiles. Maybe it’d just be better if I was never born at all.”
“Hmm,” Stiles says. “Huh.” He starts talking to the ceiling again, and Derek’s seriously beginning to wonder if this guy escaped from Eichen. “You think that would work? Hmm. Yeah, I getcha. Alright.” He looks back at Derek. “You’ve got your wish.”
“You’ve never been born.“
“You’re crazy,” Derek huffs. “Absolutely out of your mind.”
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Stiles says, shrugging. “But I suggest you take a quick look in the mirror.”
Derek’s reluctant to look away from a potential hunter, but what he sees when he glances over is enough to make him full-on turn his back to the man. He staggers forward and grabs at the sink, using it to hold himself up.
His eyes are glowing gold.
Not red. Not even blue.
It’s a Wonderful Life AU in which Derek wishes he were never born, Stiles is angel who sets out to show him just how terrible that would be, and things turn out far better than anyone could’ve expected.
Ivar’s eyes followed his brother’s hand as it travelled along your waist, his palms flat against your body. He watched as Ubbe leant into your side to whisper in your ear and he grit his teeth as you smiled at him lovingly, your eyes lighting up with mischief.
Ivar couldn’t stand seeing you and his brother together. His blood boiled as he witnessed the adoration you had for the eldest of Aslaug’s sons. On the day of your wedding he had not attended, instead opting to scream in anger and throw things at the poor slaves in his presence. He had loved you since you were young and would spare your time to calm him down after his episodes.
However, once you grew older you spent less time with him and more time with Ubbe, only ever greeting him when you came to meet his brother. It infuriated him more than he cared to admit and when he learnt you were to marry Ubbe he only became more cruel and vicious, lashing out at all who came near. Though, he could never quite manage to hate you. His heart still raced when you smiled at him and his cheeks would redden when you kissed the top of his head goodnight.
Ivar’s affection for you was also the main factor in his continued stalking. He needed to know what you saw in his brother. Even though his discoveries often hurt him. Tonight was one of those nights. He waited until the pair of you had left the great hall before leaving without explanation as he so often did. The crunch of the ground as Ivar’s body moved through Kattegat was drowned out by the sounds of the bustling night life. Although, once Ivar reached the cabin that you shared with Ubbe, his hearing picked up on sounds that only made his anger grow.
As he looked through the gap in the wood he had made for himself, his eyes widened as he saw you pressed up against the wall of the cabin, your dress hiked up around your thighs as it was held by your husband. You were sandwiched between the wall and Ubbe’s muscular body, your head lolling to one side allowing him access to nip and suck on your neck. Ivar’s pulse began to quicken as your breathy gasps filled his hearing and he craned his head to get a better glimpse at you. His gaze was caught by hands travelling under your skirt and he watched as your body arched in pleasure, your expression contorting into what Ivar could only describe as that of a goddess. Your hands were grappling at the tunic that you clung to and you lifted it over Ubbe’s head before connecting your lips to his. Ivar couldn’t stop watching as Ubbe pressed his body closer to yours, his hips grinding into you as you whimpered into his mouth. Ivar knew he should stop, but his eyes were only focused on you and he couldn’t draw them away. So he stayed, watching his heart break again at the sight of you and his brother together, watching as he satisfied you the way Ivar would never be able to. He kept his eyes on you and imagined it was him that you loved, before he slowly crawled away with an empty shell where his heart should be.
A/N: I wasn’t requested to do this, I just thought I’d spread some Cassian love lol (also sorry i went on hiatus :c) Warnings: Mentions of death
want to request? leave something in my ask box!
He hated it. He hated every grueling second he spent walking up to the hangar to meet the popular, snarky mechanic. Mon Mothma had assigned you to him as a partner, and she knew, oh she knew how he hated working with someone other than K-2. She had explained to him how you had been one of the best pilots in the resistance, if not the best pilot in the resistance. Then, after one particularly unsuccesful recon mission, you spent less time in the cockpit of the U-wings and more time under them. It wasn’t that you had lost interest in flying, hell, the only reason you stayed in the resistance was to be able to fly the ships. It was rather a personal choice, something that happened during that mission that caused you to never want to see the inside of one again.
Rounding the bend, the massive expanse of the hangar became visible to Cassian. Searching for you was easy for him, you were always surrounded by a group of pilots and mechanics who were always trying to get you to fix something. This was never a problem for you, as you enjoyed all of the attention, but after a while it got a little annoying. You were trying to push your way through the swarm of needy people until you spotted him.
Holding your breath, you observed his features. Tall, muscular, handsome face, and heading straight towards you. You quickly averted your gaze to one of the U-wings after you realized you had been staring. Pushing aside a rather annoying mechanic, you headed over to your next client- a torn-up, beat-up cargo freight that had definitely seen better days. You had just grabbed a few tools and were about to start work until you heard someone clear their throat behind you. Swivelling on your heel, you came face-to-face with the mystery man, who you recognized as none other than Captain Andor. Quirking your brow, you placed a hand on your hip as if questioning if you were supposed to salute him.
“I don’t usually get many visitors,” you said, sarcastically. “What brings you here, Captain?”
“I understand you don’t know why I’m here.” Cassian started. “Mon Mothma sent me to collect you. You’re my new.. partner.”
“Let me guess, you expect me to fix every little papercut that happens to appear on your ship?”
“Remember who you’re speaking to,” He monotoned as you backed away, hands raised defensively.
“So, what do you need me for?“
"I have some information regarding your past in the Resistance.” Your cocky smile instantly disappeared from your face.
“Go find someone else. I’m not helping you.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He warned, stepping closer to you. "Walk away from this and you walk away from the Resistance.“
You could feel anger bubbling up inside of you as he said those words. You were never going to fly a ship again, not after what happened during that recon mission. Mon Mothma knew that you never wanted to set foot inside of a cockpit again, so why would she make you do it with this asshole? Numerous questions flooded your mind as you failed to realize Cassian patiently waiting for an answer. You were brought out of your thoughts by Cassian clearing his throat for the umpteenth time. Glowering up at him, you swallowed the numerous insults threatening to burst out of your mouth.
"Whatever you say, Captain."
Giving you a triumphant smirk, he turned on his heel and left. Huffing as you turned back to the ship, you noticed that your toolbox was nowhere to be found. You realized that Cassian most likely kicked it somewhere while you were spaced out. You exhaled frustratedly. ‘That sneaky son of a-’
"E-Excuse me, ma'am,” you turned to see an impatient looking mechanic.
“What do you want?”
“Captain Andor requests that you meet him at his ship for takeoff immediately.”
Sighing, you stopped looking for your toolbox and walked past the mechanic. Maybe, just maybe you should show up just a few minutes late to show your appreciation for the captain. You caught a glance of a scowling captain as you jogged to your quarters to stuff a duffel bag full of some clothes.
What I find really fascinating it that when you
start reading more books and expanding on your knowledge, you start expanding
your interests in certain subjects. Before, when I spent less time reading I
had a very limited capacity for certain subjects, but now that I am reading
more – no subject seems to small. One of the people that I have grown to look
to for inspiration is Elon Musk, largely because with people like Elon. I
believe that he has found a balance that is very hard for most people to achieve,
this idea of capitalist scientific pursuits. When you think Tesla Motors, you
largely think of a sustainable car, but what’s the business model for it? Or
you think about his Solar projects, or Space projects – a vast variety of
projects that are about sustainable energy, it should provide hope to the next
generations that are coming through that saving the planet, can also be a
viable business idea.
“I dunno, man… I feel like something is still missing” Jay said along with a long sigh and dived deep into figuring out what was the missing element for their new song. Gray, too, was deep in his thoughts, but in his case, none of them were concerned about the new song. He got lost in his own mind because of you, and because of the downfall, your relationship got into a few weeks ago.
Sunghwa was afraid you drifted away from him due to his busy schedule. This year you barely got to see him at home. Starting from SMTM, album releases, collaborations, photo shoots to Jay’s new album which wasn’t even completely produced by him, yet he spent a lot of time with Jay in the studio.
He noticed how your morning kisses got shorter, how you started to work till late and canceled your dates. He noticed how you were less and less in the mood for sexy time, yet you spent hours on your laptop and phone, sometimes even giggling in the meantime. You stopped hugging him in your sleep, you stopped texting him at least twice a day, you stopped smiling when you were with him and the only rational reason he could come up to explain your behavior was that you had fallen out of love with him. He was desperate to talk to you, yet talking to you was the most fearful thing to him in this situation.
Days passed by and he was still trying to figure out how to bring up the subject of his stress in front of you. He knew the discussion could have two outcomes, one, you actually solving every little misunderstanding, and two, the most dreadful outcome he could imagine, you admitting you don’t love him anymore and breaking up with him.
Request: Can I request a Castiel x Reader where Cas is a superhero (aka The Guardian Angel) and him and reader are in love but they’re too shy and reader doesn’t know Cas is a superhero. Please ! :) with lot of fluff !
Guardian Angel that’s what they called him, Cas l hadn’t meant for them to brand him a hero, he saved one person and suddenly he was the hero they had all been waiting for. Cas took up the job none the less, being a The Guardian Angel meant that he spent the majority of his time boycotting his normal life, which meant that he spent less time with you and when he was with you and even with the extra confidence that came with being a hero he was still really uncomfortable around you, he liked you a lot and just could not tell you.
You, on the other hand, thought that he was trying to distance himself from you so you let him, though you liked him you thought that he didn’t like you and where he spent more time away from you just confirmed the thought.
You were out when they found you, they grabbed you “(Y/N)? Right?” The guy asked his black wings resting behind him. “Y-yeah.” You answered shuffling. “I need your help.” he smiled and you glared. “Who are you?” You asked. “The fallen Angel.” He answered. “And you’re fighting the Guardian Angel, well that’s cleché” You glared. “Anyway I need your help, you know he protects you more than you know and your closer to him then you know.” He smiled. “Talking in riddles gets you nowhere.” You sort of sung and then frowned you were usually timid and shy, you had no clue what was going on. “I like you, I might not give you back.” The Fallen Angel smirked and you glared. “You know him.” “The Guardian Angel? No.” You answered but quickly realised it was a statement rather than a question. “What are you doing?” There was another voice and you looked over to see the Guardian Angel but now you were trying match the features that you could see with anyone that you knew but no one was coming to mind. “(Y/N) don’t worry I’m going to get you out of this.” You frowned you’d never met this guy before, how the hell did this guy know your name? Unless this Fallen Angel character was telling the truth. You looked over at him and he smirked before yanking your head back by your hair and angling his wing under your chin, his razor sharp feathers touching your skin and making small cuts as they moved with his breathing. “Tell her who you are…Better yet show her.” Fallen Angel said pressing the feathers to your chin harder. “What?” he asked. “Show her. Your face!” He ordered. “Okay! Just don’t hurt her.” The Guardian Angel said lifting his hands and removing the mask, you gasped when Castiel revealed himself. Now you were angry that he never told you, you now knew for sure that he didn’t want you around. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Fallen Angel smirked leaving. “What?” You asked and he winked over at you before leaving. “Are you okay?” he asked looking over the cuts on your neck. “I’m fine I just want to go home.” You answered and he nodded before you could blink you were both in your living room. “Thanks.” “I wanted to save you.” He said and you turned to look at him frowning. “What?” You asked. “I didn’t want you to get hurt so I didn’t tell you.” Cas clarified. “It’s why you been gone so much right?” You asked and he nodded. “Well, you don’t have to keep me safe.” “You’re wrong.” He answered. “You’re my normal, I love you and I need you safe.” “You what?” You asked. “I want you safe.” He repeated. “The other thing.” You smiled. “You’re my normal.” You shook your head “I lo-” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, you smiled as you pulled away. “I love you too.” You smiled.
summary: You have plans to confess to Winwin, but what is he hiding?
A/N: im sorry these are always so short but it takes forever for me to actually write what im thinking so i try not to take too long to post something
It was Winwin’s first day off after his debut. So you decided to treat your friend to a meal at his favorite cafe.
“Thank you so much!” He said for the millionth time that day.
“Really, its no problem, I’d do anything for you, you work so hard.” He really did deserve a nice, relaxing day, but you also wanted to confess to him.
do you wish you had spent more time studying magic and less time focusing on other things?
“I never used to. I was always so happy with how my life was, magic was just something I was able to do. But now I can’t help but think it would have been better. It’s not like I can’t still do it now, I just need some practice…”
so you're definitely not going to answer my question of "what did any of you expect?"
that’s your question? what?? lmao if you wanted that answered maybe you should’ve spent less time trying to talk to fk. and still, this entitlement to my time, this entitlement to keep asking after i’ve only told you to leave, this entitlement to explain this thing i’ve talked about extensively, that i’ve even talked about in the post that i assume brought you to my inbox. we expect to be able to exist without being specifically persecuted by groups centered around bourgeois academic white women, that seems like a pretty basic expectation! i almost forgot how disingenuous that first question is, how we’re simultaneously man and not-man, how even if we’re targeted and exploited as trans women we’re expected to fold and collapse back… into, what? hegemonic masculinity??? wow, congrats on your “radical” anti-patriarchal politics. and i won’t even go into how the racial criticism of radfem politics just went completely over your head.
and it’s never enough to expunge trannies locally either, from the start just the idea of natal women and trans women interacting, supporting one another, being politically aligned, must be eradicated no matter where it springs up! it gets to the point where i wonder if radfem politics would allow me to visit a female friend’s house (certainly i wouldn’t be allowed to pee there) (this is hyperbole, i feel the need to note that in case you decide to quote it and send me a stupid anon). i wrote that big explosion post because a friend was identified by radfems as a trans woman, and had his very personal posts on his very private blog rebloged and commentated on extensively. when he defended himself, he was ignored, when he expressed how he didn’t want to be reblogged, he was ignored, when he expressed that radfems shouldn’t follow him, he was ignored. and maybe it was just bad luck, maybe he just happened to catch the attention of the wrong people! but i’ve seen such consistently awful, dishonest, bigoted behavior, i’ve seen how it operates systematically, i’ve seen how women are happy to forgo any other political consistency just for the chance to punch down at marginalized trans women.
if you don’t care about trans women in your politics, if you do not care at all and are just reaallllllyyyyy curious, that’s great, as i said in that post, go right ahead, prioritize females or whatever, save the fucking planet, idk. if we don’t actually matter to your politics, then do us a favor and leave us alone.
this conversation is absolutely over. i’m deleting any further anons from you.
And to celebrate I made a list of fics I’ve liked a lot this year. I’ve been reading a lot less than I did last year (for uni reasons) so this list is less elaborate than my other lists and I might have missed some gems, but I can’t change that. Also my preference for the Tokyo boys is getting more and more obvious… I’m looking forward to other rec lists today and if anyone wants to add their stuff to my list you’re very welcome!
A collection of stories the morals
of which all amount to: if something can go wrong, it will. Also, if
something can go right, it also will.
Alternatively, that one college AU where everyone fucks all the shit up.
I’m starting off with a series that everyone should have heard of by now. And if you haven’t, please, for the love of god, go check it out. I’ve recced it before and it has only gotten better since then. It isn’t only the single most funny thing I’ve read, but also heartbreaking and mindblowing and breathtaking in it’s shown skill. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK MAN.
“Studies have shown that scented and coloured toilet paper increases the risk of rectal inflammation.”
It all started with room number 13.
This author caught me outta nowhere. I remember following them because of a cute fanart I found in the kuroyaku tag and them being around my dash ever since, but then, months later, they hit me with this HAMMER of a bokuroo fic and I was lost, no shore in sight all of a sudden. Andrei, if there’s a way to get my hands on De Novo (and De Facto) somehow, that would be rad, I remember I still owe you a proper comment. Anyways, this fic here is fucking hysteric. It’s got this amazingly different style that makes it super memorable and at the same time absolutely hilarious and I just… can’t recommend it enough.
downtempo by @circusfairy (Sawamura Daichi/Terushima Yuuji, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi) T
He has two boyfriends, Yuuji reminds himself. A cute one. And a fucking hot one.
Honestly I wasn’t 100% sure about the logistics of this fic at first but DAMN, did I get my mind blown. This is gorgeously written and so fucking well characterised. Not to mention that they actually made it work super realistically!
A tiny kiss was pressed to the side of his head and Shouyou snickered. “You’re a sap,” he said, amused, but his heart was trembling at the gentleness of the gesture. “Of course,” Kuroo replied as if it was the most obvious of things. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Shouyou
chuckled, pulling back to look at him. Kuroo had a small smile on his
face, just a quirk of his lips, really, but it made Shouyou melt, like
it always did. Maybe he was the real sap in this relationship…
Yeah, this fic was a gift for me and DAMN was it ever up my alley. It is seiously so sweet without being simple fluff and there’s so much love there, portrayed in the characters and evident in the author and it makes me melt every time I reread it.
Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top
floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and
terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls
into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple
message on the outside of the glass. AU.
This author was the first I recognized for the amazing wording in my fandom stint so far. It is absolutely exceptional, ingenious and beautiful. And this fic makes my heart race with the feelings. HAHHH
There’s a trampoline in the middle of the courtyard across from Kuroo’s first class.
Is my thing for college AUs showing yet? I feel incredibly lucky that there’s so many amazing ones out there, and this is one of them. Close to reality and subtle in its emotions, this is just goergeous writing that leaves me in awe.
Flame by grossly (Ennoshita Chikara/Kozume Kenma) G
“What are you doing, Kozume-san?” Ennoshita asks.
starts a little, as if he hadn’t realised Ennoshita had been there all
along. Bright, crystalline gold flits up, then back down to the ground,
like a hummingbird.
If anything can catch the subtleties in this ship, it is this fic. Hot damn, that word choice!
Sometimes the people we love can’t see themselves clearly. They’re blinded by the lies their minds tell them.
So we help them them to see; through our love and our actions, we show them how important and appreciated they are.
Kenma tries his best to do this for Kuro.
I spent entirely too much time on deciding which of Sy’s fics I was gonna link if you consider the fact that I’m just going to say that you have to read ALL of her fics anyways. They are a gift to the fandom and especially to Kuroken shippers all around. Sy has an amazing penchant for profound romance and a love for the characters that is probably only surpassed by her love for the people around her. Just look at how many fics are dedicated to someone. It makes you stop and stare in awe.
And you feel dumb, downright idiotic that it takes you all this time to
realize it as Kuroo laughs and grins, eyes alight when he nudges your
hand with his under the table, that the feelings you harbor for your
friend isn’t just platonic.
Sometimes there are stories like this one, that unroll like a scroll of parchment or a satiny gift ribbon and they take you with them on a journey that touches your heart, slings around it and leaves it beating slow and strong and truly moved.
"I want so badly to believe that “there is truth,
that love is real”
and I want life in every word to the extent
that it’s absurd"
Oh dear. Hazel’s love for this ship is amazing and that shows in her fic. This is characterization from heaven, let me tell you. I’m so so impressed by her way of characterising these boys in a completely new context and incorporating this into her writing!
Travelling by lamp isn’t comfortable, but it’s cheap. Time passes
strangely, and Koutarou doesn’t know how many hours he’s been in here,
smaller and bigger than he’s supposed to be all at the same time. It’s
dark, and Koutarou passes the time wallowing, a skill he’s mastered over
the last half a century.
Koutarou is a djinn on a mission, but his arrival in Japan provides more of a reprieve than he expected.
There is a certain magic in all of Bishop’s writing that’s quite calm and cozy and it makes me feel very warm inside. Also it has the spectacular ability to pull you into the storyline and identify with the character’s emotions. Or if you can’t identify then at least feel with them as much as possible. I forgot what that was called but it’s an enchanting experience!
On a rainy night, Tsukishima is visited by an old friend he’s never known.
This fic belongs to a whole series of magical happenings and they are all written in this absolutely breathtaking manner that pulls you in and thoroughly creeps you out. Seldomly did I see such well-made atmosphere.
Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in
his college career. He’d hoped that might include taking down his
arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team
hosts an offensively familiar face, he can’t help but think that the
universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse
than playing on the same team as Ushijima?
Would you look at that?! I have the opportunity to recommend two of my favourite authors in one swoop, isn’t that convenient? I’m not even sure how necessary it is, but hey, why not spell it out again? Apart from their incredibly skillful writing that’s so well and neatly characterised and heartwarming and good for my soul, it’s also just genuinely intelligent. Ah, maybe one day I’ll be as smart and benevolent, who knows?
The first time he saw the sky was the night Kuroo dragged him out of the City.
Staggering along with Kuroo’s arm around his waist, his brain still
too fuzzy to quite comprehend what was going on, he had looked up. He
saw tiny, innumerable pinpricks of light, shining clear and beautiful,
free from the cover of the Dome.
“What are those?” he said. His voice sounded like rust, the slow
grinding of a machine that’s never been used screeching into utility
“The stars,” Kuroo had answered.
I guess I should note that this fic… made me angry at first, I remember literally saying ‘What The Fuck’ out loud to my empty bedroom. But in the end I came to the conclusion that this is just a fantastically written fic, with great worldbuilding that pulls you in and makes you feel so much with the protag. I love the journey it took me on completely because sometimes I need a story like this. Just don’t forget that the violence and dystopia tags are no joke!
They share a smile within the bubble of the cockpit, its surface streaked with passing lights. Another night of routine.
This ship… oh man. I did not know I shipped this before that. Well. Now I do. The world this takes place in seems so incredibly homely and yet.. it’s sci-fi! Making it work like that takes a lot of skill and I’m thoroughly impressed.
When he develops the film pictures, they come out different from the digital ones, and there they are again -
Those flecks of brightness, glimmering faintly against that 3 AM sky.
Lark likes trains. And journeys. And finding yourself along the way. At least that’s the impression I got and honestly, that’s what I like as well. The way the story unfolds, always so smart and immersive and atmospheric, I can only recommend reading all of Lark’s fics because they are something very special.
When Karasuno are approached to put on a fundraiser, one player steps up
to the task. As Director, Ennoshita Chikara decides he’ll put on a
pantomime. With an enthusiastic cast, he knows it could be a great
success. But who will he get to play the Dame?
Someone tell me if it was a good idea to link Greasepaint of all of Carole’s fic, because I don’t know. I adore this fic with all my heart. It’s witty and funny and so incredibly well plotted and Carole’s voice sounds amazing, but honestly… that applies to all of her fics. She’s one of the most prolific writers and most amazing persons I know and I’m so glad that she’s still around in the fandom.
“He thought of progress, of going further, over a
silent breakfast with Kazu and Hisashi. This is, technically, already a
greater distance than he’s ever been. But as Chikara took the final bite
of his tuna onigiri and waits now as one face in a milling crowd, he
knows he wants more.”
Fresh from a bout with disappointment
and self doubt, university second year violinist Ennoshita Chikara is
thrust into the position of Concertmaster in the esteemed Shirobane
Orchestra. Through music, he learns the significance of his new title
and the importance of believing in himself - and meets an oboist who
redefines and confirms what he knows.
This fic. Man. Blew my fucking mind. I still don’t even know what to say, I don’t think I ever commented on it. My brain still fries when I try to put it into words. Just do it. Read Winny’s writing. You won’t regret it.
In which touches of luck, coincidence, and an omnipresent, inaudibly ringing bell help some things come full circle in the end.
(And sometimes, a full circle is not an end at all.)
I wish I was able to write a fic this carefully and with that much dedication. It’s obvious how careful the author chose every word and that makes it such a musical experience, like a song or a beautiful melody.
“Hey, what’s the thickest book you have around here?”
which Koutarou is pulled into an ongoing series of bets between Oikawa
and Iwaizumi, Oikawa will be close to death’s door if he doesn’t sleep
sometime soon and Koutarou tries his best to fill Oikawa’s seemingly
Watching this fic unfold was an amazing thing. I absolutely adore Nikki’s writing for a thousand reasons, but most of all because I always have to smile. Either that or I get my heart ripped out, but we’ve already seen in this list that I’m not averse to that ^^
In which Oikawa Tooru casually controls the weather systems in Miyagi and Iwaizumi doesn’t blink an eye.
God fucking dammit, Justine’s Iwaois are divine. There is no way around it. That’s just how it is. They are magical and warm and her charactirsations have influenced mine so much that I can’t possibly pull them apart anymore. If you want to give yourself a treat then read one of Justine’s fics. Or all of them. But be prepared, it could take a while.
a sunset, a summer, a shiver that simmers into a smile -
or, medical student Kuroo Tetsurou falls in love with neighbourhood
busker Bokuto Koutarou but first impressions are rose gold and happiness
comes at a price.
I don’t usually care much about fic titles (maybe because I’m so careless with them myself) but this one… makes me shiver whenever I see it or think of it. And well, that’s definitely due to the story itself. I don’t even want to say anything else about it because I feel so overwhelmed from trying to put it into words. Reading Eliza’s fics (and especially this one) is like taking all my ship feels—and there are a lot, Bokuroo is my OTP—and compressing them into a small heavy ball in my stomach. Incredible.
Being eighteen is like being given a year to make a mess of your life,
put it back together, and come out the other end a better person. Easier
said than done.
I have this one addition that I put last because this blog is mostly a HQ blog and this fic is very much NOT, but fuck me if I’d let this out. The way Isy leads you through a story is incredible. Of characters that are barely characterised in canon and that grow on you because she wants to. DAMN.
In the early afternoon of the day you had been looking forward to for the past two weeks - your first date with Soonyoung - you looked out of your window, waiting to see the familiar brunet. It was around the time he had said he’d come get you so that you could go to the amusement park together, and the closer the exact time came, the more nervous you felt yourself become, your heart beating fast and hands shaking a little while your thoughts ran in a circle.
Would it go alright? You hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time together, much less with just the two of us, but you did get along, and as far as you knew, he was just as interested in you as you were in him, if not even more so. He was funny and comfortable to be around, and whenever you remembered that, you took a deep breath and relaxed little by little; there was nothing to worry about, he’d help you fight any and all awkwardness that could possibly come your way.
When you finally saw the familiar, cheerful face appear by your fence, you grabbed your bag that you had packed in good time and rushed downstairs. Upon seeing you dash out of your door, Soonyoung smiled brightly and waved at you.
“Hi!” he greeted cheerfully, and you gave him a smile back while stepping out of your gate and closing it behind yourself.
“So, to the amusement park?” you asked with a soft smile, your heart beating a bit faster than you wanted to admit at the mere sight of him smiling like that, dressed so casually yet neatly. Soonyoung nodded with a grin.
“I checked the buses, and if we’re fast enough, we can catch the next one. It leaves in 15,” he explained as you two started walking to the direction he had subtly pointed at while talking. You walked rather fast, just so that you’d absolutely not miss the bus, and chatted casually while doing so.
Since the two of you weren’t all that familiar with each other yet, you shared a few basic facts, ranging from your interests to your summer plans. Soonyoung explained that he had great interest in dancing, which fascinated you, and helped you understand why his movements seemed unbelievably smooth all the time, which never ceased to amaze you. It made a lot more sense now.
“And, if I’m lucky, I’ll still get to see you on a few more dates this summer,” he admitted a bit shyly while you were still hung up on the mental image of Soonyoung practicing a complex choreography in a small studio. You blinked a couple of times as his words finally registered in your mind, and you blushed a little.
“Probably more than a few,” you said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. He gave you an excited nod just as you both realized you were almost at the bus stop you were on your way to.
Noticing that the bus was already at the stop and probably wouldn’t take too long until it’d depart, Soonyoung reached for your hand. “Ah, we need to run!”
With your mind empty from the sudden contact you hadn’t had before, you ran with him, your eyes wide and heart beating even faster in your chest. You reached the bus early enough to pay for your trips before it took off, and found yourselves seats more towards the back of the vehicle. You got the window seat, and whenever Soonyoung looked in your direction, you were unable to tell whether he was watching the houses passing by, or you.
After you had collected yourself a bit, you turned to face Soonyoung, trying to seem playful even under all the nervousness. “Are your hands always that sweaty?”
He raised his eyebrows in confusion, but soon realized that he had a few moments vefore, indeed, taken your hand in his all of a sudden. With a soft hue of pink rushing to his cheeks, he shook his head and grinned. “Not always, I’m just… a bit nervous.”
You smiled at him. “Me, too. But somehow, you holding my hand… it made me feel more at ease, you know?” Sure, your heart had been about to fly off your chest, but that was a minor detail; altogether you had felt really comfortable and more importantly and surprisingly, safe.
Soonyoung blinked before melting into a warm smile, while you tucked some of your hair behind your ear and tried to ignore the burning of your cheeks.
“Should I make you feel even more at ease, then?”
You had barely enough time to turn look at him when he had already taken your hand into his and interlaced your fingers. Your heart skipped a beat and, unable to hold back the wide smile that soon appeared on your lips, you looked into his brown eyes and squeezed his hand, slowly starting to lean your head on his shoulder as you relaxed.
Fandom: Teen Wolf Paring: Reader x Teen Wolf Cast Summary: Preface, Part One, Part Two You came to Beacon Hills to get away from your past, to find a fresh start. But after you save Scott and Stiles from a mysterious creature you find that the town is not all it seems. The more you get involved with “the pack” the more they start digging into your past and the less they trust you.
You’ve spent the last few weeks with “the pack.” You felt silly calling them that at first, but the more time you spent with them the less you were able to see them as anything but. They did everything together- lacrosse, school and the occasional hunt through the woods to deal with Peter or any other local crazies.
After a particularly long week of pack business they decided it was time to party.
“Lydia’s throwing it so you know it’s going to be good,” Stiles said to you and Scott. “I’m down,” Scott replied. You weren’t really into house parties. You usually ended up awkwardly standing by yourself in some corner, while everyone else got drunk and hooked up. but you didn’t want to turn down your first Beacon Hills invite, and you figured things would be different with the pack. “Y/N?” Stiles asked, his eyebrow raised like he was anticipating a yes. “I’m in.” “Yes!” Stiles slammed his locked triumphantly, “we’ll tell Kira and Malia next period.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Stiles. He may be a bit…all over the place, but he was brilliant and the more time you spent with him the more you were found his sporadic tendencies endearing. You had gone over to study at his house a few times and each time the two of you ended up getting distracted. You’d end doing things like talking about his board full of pictures and red lines, or hanging out in a coffee shop. One time he even tried to force you to watch Star Wars. Almost a month with the pack and you felt the closest to Stiles.
“Party!” Stiles whispered to you as Coach started class.
“Derek?” Scott called as he walked into the loft. While Scott was friends with Derek, (or as friendly as you could get with Derek Hale), he didn’t visit the loft unless there was something bad in Beacon Hills.
"Scott, we need to talk,” Derek appeared in front of the large window. “What is it?” “I heard you had a little omen,” Peter said coming up behind Scott. Scott took a defensive stance at the sound of Peter’s voice. Peter tilted his head, smirking at Scott. He always enjoyed seeing he could intimate people. “He’s not here to fight,” Derek said, “Peter has some information on the thing Lydia was drawing.” “The Trinity Knot?” Scott asked. “Do you know who has the mark?” Peter asked, watching Scott’s expression and listening to his heart rate. For a second Scott’s heart rate picked up. “You do.” “Scott,” Derek said, “this is important. Whoever has the mark is not a friend.” “How do you know that?” Scott challenged him, “Deaton said it isn’t always bad.” “Because I’ve seen it before,” Peter said walking past Scott and standing next to Derek. “And I’m suppose to just trust you?” “You don’t have a choice.” Derek said to Scott, “just listen to what he has to say.” “The last time someone with the Trinity Knot came to Beacon Hills they almost wiped us out,” Peter began pacing the room as he explained, “anyone with the mark has the ability to manipulate three forces: life, death and rebirth. The third force makes this person our problem.” “Get to the point Peter,” said Derek. “When you were bit you were reborn as something new- a werewolf. Which means whoever this person is they can change you, they can take the werewolf part of you away. The last time some saw this as a cure and sought it out, others saw it as a threat. Thirty were changed, only two survived.” Scott looked at Derek to see if he was believing Peter’s story. Even through Derek’s normal unfazed composure Scott could see he was worried. “There’s no cure and no way to fight this,” Peter finished. “So how did you make it out last time?” Scott asked. “I ran. I left town until the person with the mark was gone,” Peter admitted shrugged his shoulders. “But I don’t plan on leaving this time. This time I’m going to rip the mark off of their body. Then I’ll rip off their head, for good measure.” Scott turned away from the other two. He wasn’t sure what he was scared of more, you or Peter. His instincts told him to take Peter seriously but he couldn’t reconcile what Peter was saying with how you acted. You didn’t seem like you could hurt anyone. “Scott,” Derek stepped forward, his patience running out. “Who is it?” Scott looked at Derek no matter how confused he was he couldn’t say your name. It would be condemning you to death. “Let me handle it.” Scott said. “No Scott. This is not something you can handle,” argued Derek. “I’m going to handle it my way. And if Peter’s right then we will consider other options.” Peter leaned against one of the loft’s pillars silent. He didn’t try to argue with Scott or move when Scott turned to leave. He let him go. The second he knew Scott was out of earshot he spoke up. “It’s one of his little friends.”
Lydia’s house was already alive with music when you pulled up. Kids your age were going in and out the front door, carrying cups and laughing. You checked your red lipstick one last time before walking inside.
“Y/N!” Stiles called to you, waving you over. The closer you got Stiles went from calm to stumbling over his words “you look…great.” You stifled a laugh at his reaction and took the drink he held out to you. You had tried to go casual, wearing strappy sandals, a black high neck top that left your shoulders bare and dark skinny jeans. “Where is everyone else?” “Scott and Kira are dancing and Malia is God knows where.” “Want to go dance?” you asked. “Hell yeah,” Stiles said breaking out into a dance move and leading you to a space clear of furniture. You and Stiles jumped around, dancing and laughing as you pulled the weirdest moves you could think of. You broke off for a little while to grab something to drink when someone bumped into you, their drink nearly missing you. “Hey!” “My bad,” the stranger said. He was massive and towered over you. He gave you smile that was not at all comforting. “It’s ok.” You tried to squeeze past him but he blocked your way. “What’s your name?” “Tired.” You weren’t interested in small talk. “Can you let me go around you?” “Sure,” he said smiling again. You walked past him into the kitchen. As you filled a glass with tap water he came up next to you. “That’s an interesting tattoo you have. What does it mean?” You touched the tattoo behind your ear. Sometimes you forget it’s there until you wear your hair up. “It’s-” “Y/N!” Stiles grabbed you and spun you around, facing him. “There you are. Scott was looking for you.” Stiles stood between you and the guy. “Excuse us.” “What’s the matter Stiles?” the guy asked. “Back off Peter.” You did a double take. This was Peter? Werewolf Peter? Peter you knocked out with a bat? “Come on Y/N.” Stiles walked you out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “What are you doing?” you asked as Stiles opened up one of the bedroom doors. The rest of the pack stared back from inside the room. “We’ve got to do his now,” Stiles said to Scott.
"What’s going on?” Your smile left your face and your tone was flat. Whatever game they were playing, it wasn’t funny anymore. “You tell us Y/N,” Malia said. “Scott?” You looked to him, hoping to get an explanation. Instead he stared at you with red eyes and a clenched jaw. “What are you and why are you here?” You were thrown off by his question. What did he mean? What was going on? “Stiles?” “Just answer the question, Y/N.” You were at a loss. The people who were suppose to be your friends stood around from you in a tense, semi-circle. Far enough to isolate you but close enough to throw a punch. You didn’t have a clue what they were talking about but you knew they were ready for a fight. “No.” You looked Stiles straight in the eyes. “I’m not answering your questions until you tell me what’s going on.” “We think you’re evil.” Malia said dryly. “Excuse me?” you whipped around to look at her. “That tattoo behind your ear, Lydia was drawing it over and over again.” Kira began to explain. “So we looked into it and it’s turns out it-” “Marks the end of the werewolf race.” Malia cut in. “All we know,” Scott said stepping forward, “is that the person bearing that mark is dangerous.” “You think I’m dangerous?” You asked, stepping up to Scott. “You think I would hurt you?” No one answered. “Don’t you know me?” Your hands shook and you heard more pain in your voice than you wanted to let out. You opened your mouth to say more, but you were flooded with too many thoughts. Was this all a ploy? Did they even want to be your friends in the first place? Or were they just scared of you? You’re alone now.
This whole time I thought we were becoming friends,” you said, thinking out loud. You looked up at everyone around you, “but all you were doing was sizing up your enemy.” “Y/N-” “No.” Anger hit you in the chest, making your heart beat faster. You focused it on Scott “when you told me you were a werewolf, I could’ve written you off as a monster. But I chose to see you, not your ability to tear me limb from limb. I looked at who you were, not what you were and chose to trust you. Why haven’t any of you done the same for me? I’ve saved your lives, helped you with homework, gone shopping with you…but you can’t see any of that. You stopped seeing me the second you saw my tattoo.” You let it all out in a furry, but once you said your peace the anger drained and the pain ebbed to an ache. Now you just felt empty. Your words had taken up all the tension in the room, leaving guilt to fill the space. Everyone looked at each other, shifting on their feet as they processed the knowledge they had done wrong. You turned to leave. “Y/N,” Scott said, the sincerity in his tone making you flinch, “please, we’re-” His word caught in his throat when you turned around and looked at them all again. “I’ll never be your enemy,” you said firmly and quietly, “but you can’t keep pretending your my friends.”
And with that you were done. Empty and exhausted you walked silently out of the room, through the party and to your car.
Based on a prompt from a million years ago from kreeby for Isii to cook some Dalish food for Solas. This is also written to replace my fic “Secrets Bleed Through”. (I was never really happy with it, so it was time to remove it from my canon.)
Some pre-relationship Solavellan with a healthy dose of Sera and Cole. Makes references to Red Lyrium, though it is not required reading.
Sera sighed, scowling. “How much longer is this going to take? I’m starving.”
“Perhaps if you’d spent less time crudely comparing the vegetables to various anatomical features and more time chopping, we would be eating by now,” Solas muttered.
“Oh stuff it,” she snapped back at him. Isii merely shook her head as she stirred the small pot that lay suspended over their campfire.
“It should be done soon,” she said patiently. She fished out a piece of carrot, blowing on it before taking a cautious bite. It was almost soft enough. A few more minutes should do it. It was time to start the she’bradh. She dug into her pack, retrieving a handful of ingredients. “Hand me that bowl, will you?” she asked, gesturing to Sera.
The elf picked up the wooden bowl, eyeing the eggs inside. She picked one up, smirking as she held it out toward Solas. “Real family resemblance there.”
He didn’t seem particularly amused. “Yes, Sera. I am bald,” he said flatly. “Your powers of perception are truly something to marvel at.”
Isii chuckled. While Sera and Solas were never particularly friendly with one another, they had been especially irritable today. She supposed taking both of them with her for an extended trip had been a poor choice. Their patience was wearing a bit thin.
Well, Solas’s patience was. Isii didn’t get the impression that Sera had much in the way of patience.
Isii shot a brief glance over to the fourth member of their party. The spirit stared back at her, his eyes wide and eerily still as he watched her take the bowl, beginning to carefully crack the eggs open. Cole didn’t talk much. She wondered if that would change as he grew more comfortable with them or if he simply didn’t have much to say. He seemed content to watch, however, apparently fascinated with the mundane tasks they had been handling over the course of the past week. This trip to the far edges of the Hinterlands had been rather uneventful so far. She supposed that was a good sign. It meant the Inquisition’s efforts were paying off.
Sera leaned toward the fire, sniffing cautiously at their dinner. “There aren’t gonna be any bugs in it, right?”
Isii’s eyes narrowed as she dumped a handful of a flour mixture into the bowl. “No. I didn’t put any bugs in it.”
“But you people do eat that shit, right?” she asked, sneering. “Like, creepy crawly little buggers?”
“They’re really not that bad,” Isii said with a shrug, beginning to combine the bowl’s contents with her hands, working the yolks apart with her fingertips.
Sera’s lips turned, her tongue emerging as she gagged. “That’s disgusting.” She turned to Solas, gesturing sharply. “Even you’d say that’s rank, right?”
“Resourceful, perhaps,” he said calmly, “but not exactly palatable.”
Isii arched her brow, the corner of her lips quirking. “I wasn’t aware that the diet of an apostate hobo was too high brow for insects.”
His lips pursed but his expression remained otherwise unmoved. “It is not what I am accustomed to eating.”
“See?” Sera squawked. “Even he won’t eat that crap.”
“Well, I’m glad I could give the two of you something to agree on,” Isii said dryly, kneading the loose dough. “Truly an accomplishment on my part. I’m so proud. I might even tear up.”