is it a girl or a boy i don't know yet

3

So basically, I wanted to really surprise Seán with his gift, and hear him yell ‘Toriko’, so I was like ‘oh I’ll ask him to close his eyes, yell Trico, and then ask him to open his eyes, and like BOOM! Trico.’ As soon as I asked him the words ‘close your eyes’, I knew it sounded really creepy (fuck), but he humoured me, and it was lots of fun. I’m really happy he likes it! 

This is that moment:


I hope derka-derk is happy in Ireland with @therealjacksepticeye!

(also I’m almost 27 so it’s fine that he called me a girl, you think I’m an adult yet, hell no)


(and can I just say that I love that Seán’s voice for Trico in the unboxing video is the same voice Felix gives Edgar his pug, LOL)

I want to see Greek gods in the modern era.

I want to see Zeus in a tailored suit and shaggy beard, a walking disparity of the loud, brash, post-graduate frat boy variety who can’t pass a woman on the street without catcalls, who has more one-night stands than he could possibly keep in his head, for whom adultery comes as naturally as the weather he predicts on the Channel 4 News—with startlingly accuracy, and an endless wealth of charisma.

I want to see Hera walking tall, six-inch heels and not a wrinkle in her skirt, knowing her boyfriend is cheating, and knowing with equal certainty that she is better, stronger, fiercer than he will ever be, a wedding planner with an eye of steel, spotting vulnerability, slicing it open, teaching every woman who crosses her path to value themselves over any mistake made in the name of men and love.

I want to see Poseidon in Olympic prime, a gym rat who skives off class to shatter backstroke records, who spends his summers lifeguarding at the city pool, who keeps an ever-expanding aquarium in his bedroom and coaxes all the pretty girls up to visit his fish, his charm as impressive as the earth-rending temper he generally uses to fuel his competitive nature.

I want to see Hades, big, hulking, quieter than his brothers would ever think to be, who dresses in neat dark clothes, and polishes his boots, and spends more time reading than fighting, who debates eventuality and ethics, who stoically reminds everyone how enormous, how terrifying, how inescapable a thing like silent inevitability can be.

I want to see Hermes in a beanie, with watercolor splashes of tattoo crawling up his arms and holes in his Chucks, a bike messenger with no helmet, no regard for the rules of the road, all cataclysmic laughter, lock-pick tricks passed along to every kid who thinks to ask, thumbing through his iPhone without a care in the world.

I want to see Athena with reading glasses pushed high on her head, six books in her bag and a switchblade in her back pocket, her clothing as neatly ordered as her mind is feverish, brilliance and temper clashing and blending, doing her best to look dignified—even when her brain chemistry rockets ahead of her well-intentioned plans.

I want to see Apollo splattered with acrylics, board shorts and Monster headphones and a beautiful classic car, busking on street corners, not because he has no choice, but because the sunlight catching on a sticker-patterned acoustic is summer incarnate, because music is blood, because the act of creation is the ultimate in sublime.

I want to see Artemis in ripped jeans and haphazard topknot, star of the soccer team, the track team, the archery team, who rides a motorcycle, and keeps a tribe of girls around her at all times, and does not care for men, for expectation, for anything but volunteer hours down at the local animal shelter and falling asleep under the stars.

I want to see Aphrodite in sundress and scarf, homemade jewelry and lavish amounts of bright red lipstick, who is excellent at public speaking, at theater auditions, at soothing bruised egos and sparking epic fights, who kisses as easily as she breathes and scrawls poetry onto bathroom stalls.

I want to see Ares all but living in the boxing ring, cutoff shirts and sweats, red-faced under a crew cut as he punches, punches, punches until the noise in his head dims, a warrior with no war, all crude jokes and blind fury, totally incapable of understanding what it is to sit, think, plan before running screaming into the fray.

I want to see Demeter with the best garden you’ve seen in your life, with a lawn care business she runs out of her garage, a teenage prodigy grown into a joint-custody single mother, who teaches her carefree daughter all she knows while scaring off the hopeful neighborhood boys with the pet python draped across her shoulders.

I want to see Dionysus with a joint in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, baggy hoodies and three-week-old jeans, who brews his own beer in his basement and greets all visitors with a fresh pack of Oreos and half-stoned theories of the universe, of birth and death and partying mid-week, because why not, man?

I want to see Hephaestus with a workshop taking up the majority of his house, whose kitchen is overrun with blowtorches, whose bathrooms are home to all manner of hodge-podge invention, who walks with a cane and forgets his laundry for weeks at a time, and strings together the most beautiful steampunk costumes at any convention at the drop of a hat.

I want to see wood nymphs fighting against climate change, waving their signs and pushing for scientific progress. I want to see epic heroes sitting down to Magic: The Gathering tournaments, poker brawls, Call of Duty all-nighters with beer and snapbacks. I want to see Medusa working a women’s shelter, want to see Achilles training for deployment, want to see Prometheus serving endless community service stints for what he calls providing necessary welfare with stolen goods.

Give me modern mythology. I could play for hours in that sandbox.

nytimes.com
The Girls’ Soccer Team That Joined a Boys’ League, and Won It
AEM Lleida recently conquered 13 boys’ teams in a junior regional league in Spain, where women’s soccer remains mostly a sideshow.
By Raphael Minder

I don’t know them but I’m proud of them

Harry's interview on Quotidien
  • I: Can you hear me?
  • H: Yes
  • I: Welcome to Paris!
  • H: Thank you
  • I: How are you? Can you answer in French?
  • H: Good! A little bit. A tiny bit. Très bien et toi ?(very good and you?)
  • I: Very good, thank you. We start our interviews with “can you give us your five favourites words in English or French. Or a French sentence”. Someone told me you knew a French sentence.
  • H: Comment vous faites un café si délicieux? (How do you make such a delicious coffee?)
  • I: OK, that’s good.
  • H: That’s all I have.
  • I: Do you say it very often?
  • H: No... Yes
  • I: What does France mean to you? Is it something, someone etc...?
  • H: Best people I’ve known... I think her, *shows a fan* I guess. Fabien Barthez.
  • I: Yes, Fabien Barthez. Harry, you’re 23 years old and you’re one of the best known pop-star in the world. Everybody has expectations with your new album and single Sign Of The Times. Why did you choose that song? This is not what people were expecting.
  • H: I think I wanted to.. I've always liked music that made me feel something. You know I think writing it I could feet something I wanted to bring it out. I think it's a good indicator for me of what the album is to me. That's why I wanted to go with that first.
  • I: Billboard wrote that the single was "one of the more ambitious opening statements in pop this decade". Not bad, isn't it?
  • H: Thanks!
  • I: Do you have friends working at Billboard?
  • H: I don't know anyone at Billboard.
  • I: When we listen to the song we think of David Bowie, Queen, who else did you think of?
  • H: I mean, I think everyone, anything, any song you've ever listened to growing up or throughout your life or you've enjoyed, inspired you. There are a lot of different things. I wanted to just write and see what came out. I didn't know what I sounded like to make an album. So this process was as interesting for me as I think it will be for people listening to the album for the first time.
  • I: Do you know French singers other than Serge Gainsbourg? That's a tricky question.
  • H: I know Woodkid. He directed my music video.
  • I: Why him?
  • H: I think his videos are amazing, he's a really talented guy and I love French people so I worked with him.
  • I: When you're in Spain, do you say that you love Spanish people?
  • H: No!
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy...
  • H: Great tie.
  • I: You think so? It's French.
  • H: It's not a Spanish tie, isn't it?
  • I: Can I see your loafer? Oh yes! What is the brand? That's not French, isn't it? It's Italian.
  • H: No.
  • I: That's from the European Union!
  • H: Probably yeah.
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy for you, is it true?
  • H: Was what simple?
  • I: Your life, everybody wants a life like yours, with One Direction...
  • H: I mean, I feel very lucky to be able to make music, I feel very lucky to be able to make this, I feel very lucky today being in France and performing my song. I love this song. I can't complain.
  • I: What were the unpleasant things?
  • H: *thinking*
  • I: I don't know, say only one thing.
  • H: I think when you care so much about something, it's hard to get to the point where you feel like it's finished and it feels like you're adding and it never ends and it adds up. So I think the hardest part was getting into that point and be like "ok that's finished."
  • I: You said to the Rolling Stone magazine that most of the album was inspired by a woman. Really?
  • H: No I think, honestly, the album is much more about me than it is about anyone else. I think if I said the album is about a woman it kind of feels like, I don't know, I put a lot of work into this. I don't feel like it revolves around woman. It's a lot about me and things I've never said before. It's more about me.
  • I: How did you start with a boy band and end with a solo career? Is it complicated?
  • H: It's been a lot of fun. You know we were very lucky to get to do some amazing things and at the moment in our lives, we're in a time where everyone is trying their own thing and have a good time. It's been amazing to see everyone doing their own thing as well. If I can do as well as the others, it'd be amazing.
  • I: Do you call them everyday or text them? Do you use What's app?
  • H: I don't have that.
  • I: Why?
  • H: Yes we talk, absolutely. And everyone is bringing stuff out. It's been a lot going on. It's been a good time.
  • I: This is the album cover! Can you describe it? Why did you choose this picture?
  • H: Yeah. So, I don't know. I worked with photographer Harley Weir, I'm a massive fan of her work. And that's amazing and I was lucky enough to work with her. I felt like this was what I wanted.
  • I: Why is it pink? Why the water? Why your back? Why? It's beautiful but why is it pink?
  • H: I don't know, man!
  • I: Really? You don't know?
  • H: I don't know. I don't think I want...
  • I: Apparently pink is Rock'n'roll's colour.
  • H: Apparently so. I don't know. I think it means something to me and if it means anything to anyone else, I wouldn't want to take away from that by explaining it. I think the cool thing about stuff like photos and art is you can just leave it. You don't have to explain it.
  • I: Everybody sees what they want to see.
  • H: Yes exactly.
  • I: Have you seen this?
  • *video of people reacting to Harry's single*
  • I: Your fans record themselves while listening to the song for the first time. You can hear relevant analysis and apparently they all really liked it. Do you read what people say about you on social media? On Youtube, Twitter, Instagram? Do you use Instagram?
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit.
  • *The public disagrees with Harry*
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit. I mean I wish everyone was having as good time as the girl who was like that with her hands. That's what I do when I listen to the song.
  • I: Are you the one using your Instagram? Do you use your own fingers or someone else does it for you?
  • H: Yes, I do mine.
  • I: Do you still vote in Redditch?
  • H: In?
  • I: Redditch!
  • H: That's where I was born?
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I don't live in Redditch.
  • I: So you don't vote there. Where did you vote?
  • H: London, yeah.
  • I: What do you think of the Brexit? Welcome to Europe!
  • H: Thank you very much, thanks. I mean, I don't really comment on politics. To me, anything that brings people together is better than things that pull people apart. That's ... yeah.
  • I: Yet, you are in favour of equality of rights, men, women, gay people, straight people... That's politics.
  • H: I don't know. It doesn't feel like politics. I think stuff like equality feels much more fundamental. I feel like everyone is equal. That doesn't feel like politics to me.
  • I: Your fans are fetishists. They know all of your tattoos, piece of jewellery, they have heart attacks when you cut your hair. Right now you're playing with their feelings. Do you know that?
  • H: Oh ok.
  • I: Yes! What is your favourite tattoo?
  • H: I think... I have a.. probably. I don't know, actually.
  • I: Which one is the latest?
  • H: The latest is this one there. *shows Arlo* And this one. *shows Jackson*
  • I: Jackson? All of them?
  • H: Yes.
  • I: What's the story behind your haircut? How much did you spend on hair products with One Direction?
  • H: Yeah, like a lot. I used a lot, yeah.
  • I: You're in Dunkirk, Christopher Nolan's new movie.
  • H: Yes.
  • I: How did you do?
  • H: I auditioned.
  • I: Look at you there.
  • H: I am, that's me.
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I auditioned and it was great. It's going to be a really cool movie.
  • I: Harry, it feels like we know you since you're a baby. The whole world discovered you in 2010 on X Factor.
  • *video of Harry's X Factor audition*
  • I: You auditioned alone but Simon Cowell had an idea... he put you in a band with Zayn, Louis, Liam and Niall. You became One Direction. You found the name One Direction and you sold millions of albums. One Direction are soon considered as the new Beattles and you filled the biggest stadiums. The whole world was talking about you. When you go out we prayed for your eardrums. You became UK's pride. David Cameron is in one of your music videos, your sang for the Queen. But in 2015... bang! Zayn left the band, fans couldn't get over it. But don't worry, their favourite is now on the cover of the Rolling Stone magazine, he's in Christopher Nolan's new movie, he's Mick Jagger on SNL... What you don't know is that we've met in 2012. You were in France to promote an album and now I have questions. First one! When you're in a car and fans are all around you, do you see that?
  • *video of fans around a car*
  • H: I think I've actually lost my shoe there. When I got in the car... I got in the car and I was like "how many shoes do I have?" Yes I lost my shoe.
  • I: I have another question! Do you still do that before going on stage?
  • *video of Harry and Lou*
  • I: Can we do it?
  • H: No.
  • *does it anyway*
  • I: What is the weirdest question someone asked you?
  • H: I think it was actually a French interview. I got asked if I would pee in a sink... Yeah.
  • I: Ok, that's weird!
  • H: It was the first question, the first question.
  • I: It puts you in the mood.
  • H: Yeah.
  • I: What is the question you never want to be asked ever again? Did I asked you that question?
  • *Harry asks the public*
  • H: Which one? Oh crush.
  • I: What?
  • H: Crush.
  • I: Oh ok. I didn't ask it! Did you know that a French author wrote a novel about you. It's called "Styles", it's about his obsession with you. It's in French. You can translate it.
  • H: Oh! Is that true?
  • I: Yes it's true. He dedicated to you. It's called "Styles" and it's a really good book. Read it!
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Thank you very much Harry Styles for coming tonight. His first eponymous album comes out on the 12th May. Thank you Harry Styles.
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Have a safe journey home.
Some Place Away

WS!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Roughly based on Ariana Grande’s Dangerous Woman

Word Count: +3k | Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, SMUT. UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap your wang, before you bang!)

A/N: alright, this was hard to write, and my head hurts but i was determined to write my first song fic and this is for KUMI!!! (@mellifluous-melodramas​) my wifey! OMG I’M NERVOUS HOE

(also, i’ve added ‘///’ where the smut starts and ends)

y’all, enjoy and do drop a comment in my ask box or anywhere

Masterlist here

(*gifs are not mine)


Somewhere in London, January 28, 1992; 12.47am.

You lean on the lamp post, far from them on the empty street, your gaze never leaving his form as you watch your soldier talking to another woman, who was rather getting a little too handsy with him. Her delicate fingers brushing up over his prosthetic arm, treating it like a delicate, poor little flower.

It disgusts you to no end and your violent mind thinks of all the scenarios where you’d do anything to keep her away from him. Keep everything, everyone away from him. But you know he’s only doing his job, the one that HYDRA forced him to do.

But there are so many other ways of gathering information. You could have taken matters in your own hand, but since the Soldier was granted the liberty for this mission, he thought it could be done without any sort of destruction, which you would never hesitate to cause.

It has been half an hour since they’re talking and as much as you wanted to ignore the sting in your heart, your brain overtakes your feelings and reminds you once again that you’re nothing but the protector; you’re here just to keep an eye on the asset. Any other sort of attachment would cost you both your lives.

Keep reading

Let Me Help

Spencer Reid x Reader (smut)

Requested: Yes. Anon: hey! I really love your blog and I was wondering if you could do a reid x reader where the reader has a wet dream about Spencer and she finally tells him about her dream after he asks her what’s wrong and it ends in smut?? thank you so much

Word Count: 3,589, Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, Oral Sex.

A/N: Oh my God okay so I went a little crazy on this one and it’s a full fledged long fic. I was writing this and I actually needed to take a break my palms were sweating because Reid is so fucking hot. Anyway, I hope you like it! Please let me know if you want a Part 2 ;)

- M xo

(Gif not mine, credit to owner)

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

Sprawled out on your bed, your naked form was being admired and touched by a handsome man. He glided his fingers up and down the sides of your thighs as he placed sensual kisses on your stomach. “God, you’re so beautiful.”, whispered Spencer. 

Wait what? Spencer? Hold on. Did you just have a wet dream about your nerdy co-worker?

You woke up in your bed covered in sweat as you tried to calm down your flustered state as you panted heavily trying to vaguely recollect the memories of the dream you had just had. It wasn’t a bad dream, in fact, it was amazing. You squeezed your thighs together in hopes of some sort of relief, but all you could do was think about the dream, which made your state even worse.

You sat there in silence as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. You’d been working at the BAU for 4 years now and you had never thought of Spencer that way. Sure he was tall, had gorgeous chiselled cheekbones and never failed to amaze you with his intelligent brain. Oh, God. Here you were thinking inappropriately about your co-worker at 3 in the morning when you had to be in for work at 7. There was no way you were going to act normal in front of him after this strange yet intoxicating image of you and Spencer practically having sex ingrained in your brain. All you could do was try to get back to sleep and hope that the flush would be over in the morning.

Keep reading

Klance Fic Recs, AU Settings I

Okay so I might end up making multiple parts for AU settings. This one contains mostly occupational/hobby/setting AU stuff. So unless an AU fic prominently featured a certain element, it’ll go on another list. So there are some College AUs, 2 Soulmate AUs, and maybe a few others. 

SPORTS

Olympians
house on fire by ilgaksu
When Lance McClain is eighteen, he qualifies for the Olympics.

When he’s nineteen, he meets Keith.

Correlation does not mean cause, until it totally does.

your love is bright as ever by aknightley (gymnast!Keith, swimmer!Lance)
A brief interlude in the future of the Olympic AU, Christmas with Keith and Lance and their cats.

“This always looks easier in those made for television movies,” Keith tells Blue, who rolls over and out of his lap, chasing her own bits of tinsel.

In It To Win It by Lucy_Claire
One of two things was happening right now, either Lance was having a heart attack on of the biggest day of his life, or he had just laid eyes on his Soulmate.
_______

Competitive swimmer Lance McClain feels his Timer counting down right when he’s about to jump in the water and finish up his race. He’s faced with two choices in this moment: Continue the race and miss meeting his Soulmate at their fateful time or abandon his life’s work for someone he never met.Lance makes his choice and has to suffer the consequence of never getting back what he missed out on. Or does he?

Swimmers
Ocean Eyes by spacezuko
Lance himself doesn’t even believe in his own abilities. He is drowning in his own pool of desire to be everything that he claims he is. Everything that he wants to be. Keith wonders if he’s broken Lance because he doesn’t say a word, his eyes filled with something opaque that Keith can’t quite pinpoint the meaning of. Lance’s eyes are a deep blue. Not the typical morning sky blue, but the kind of ocean blue one wants to drown in.

With legs like these by Queerswimming
In which Lance finds out that there’s a pool in the castle and challenges Keith to a race.

Lance did NOT think this through. Because not a single thing in this universe could’ve prepare him for the sight of Keith in nothing but a red pair of swimming trunks.

Keith has one arm bend behind his head and stretches it with the other. His back arches beautifully, presenting Lance a perfect view of his well-defined torso. At least the last thing Lance sees right before he dies are those ripped abs.

Football
Mistakes were made by Lynn1998
Lance can’t stand the captain of the football team…so why is he having sex with him?
Part 1 of skinny band nerd takes it up the ass from the beefcake football captain series

Ice Skating/Hockey
On Thin Ice (WIP) by Minadora
Once upon a time, two Canadian nerds decided to start a figure skating au about their two space sons and their wonderful misfit friends. Ten pages of headcanons later we finally put electronic pen to electronic paper and created this monstrosity.

This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to “work on his footwork”. There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.Enjoy the ride because it’s only just started.

Kiss My Ice (WIP) by delictor
Lance hasn’t skated in a year since the accident that cost him the Olympics. Keith can’t skate for shit but that doesn’t stop him from catching Lance’s attention, even when he can’t so much as stand up after falling on the ice.

‘When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.’

“Soon as we’re off this ice you’re dead.” Keith’s threat is an empty one and he knows Lance can tell by the way he laughs at it.
“Serious question though, do you not know who I am?” Lance questions.
“Should I?”
“No, I guess not.” Lance shrugs. “I’m gonna twirl you, okay?”
“No, no don't—wait!” Keith cries out as he’s suddenly viewing the entire arena and his legs go rigid before colliding into Lance’s chest, his chest rising and falling with laughter, hands gripping Keith’s upper arms gently. “Put me back on land.”
“Technically, we are on land.”
“We’re on frozen water, get me off it.”

Quidditch (Non Hogwarts AU)
The Marks We Make (WIP) by wittyy_name
Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he’ll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don’t say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It’s not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can’t bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he’s resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he’ll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He’s just an art student who’s struggling to find his place in the world. There’s so much he hasn’t been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can’t do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

Surfers (mostly surfer!Lance)
Should I Stand Up on Fear (And Tell You How I Feel?) by Lulatic
“So, it’s really a good thing that Lance got distracted before he dragged you out there with him,” Hunk chuckled. “I guess flirting became more important than your guys’ rivalry.’

Keith blushed again, looking away with a huff. “Yeah, whatever. He’ll probably be distracted long enough that I can go back to the Castle before he decides I need some surfing lessons.”

Pidge laughed, that kind of cheeky giggle that made Keith and Hunk look over at them with wide eyes. Pidge raised a single eyebrow at Keith, grinning mischievously. “Oh, but you won’t be going back to the Castle any time soon, now will you? Not when Lance is out there, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.”

Pride Tide by lemoninagin
He’d stared up, watched the differing patches of sunlight play the most stunning array of colored patterns across Keith’s pale face as he grinned mischievously over him. Time slowed, his own breathing became laboured and caught in his throat.

“You can teach me, right?” Keith had asked in a shyer voice than usual, brushing the tangled mess of his windswept hair away from his eyes and cocking his head towards the boards.

Save his smile by Queerswimming
Keith wants to protect Lance’s smile and finds his answer at the beach. Starring an awkward Keith, Surfer Lance and Hunk playing a giant ice berg.

Lance caresses the wood gently. His eyes turn soft as he speaks. “My big brother taught me how to build a board.” He laughs softly. “I always messed it up though. I wasn’t patient enough to do it right.“ He taps on the wood and looks at Keith with a sad smile that knocks the breath out of Keith lungs.

“Who would have thought that I would build a surf board in space though.”

He laughs at that but Keith can tell that Lance is faking it. He always can.

Roller Derby
Like Devo by surveycorpsjean
As rival jammers, they’re rough, skating around the rink, giving bruises, bloody noses, broken ribs and snapped fingers-

But when the cops show up, Keith grabs his hand and yanks Lance into the storm drain.

And thats how they start dating.

Streetracing
Purple Lamborghini by warschach
“I need you to focus on this race. No more hate flirting with Keith as much as I enjoy it. I like winning more.”

He scoffed, “I don’t flirt.”

“Then stop saying you’re going to teach him how to ride.”

“I was talking about driving. Duh,” Lance countered with an attitude mastered purely by Valley girls and entitled customers.

“Yea, Lance it doesn’t come off like that at all. It sounds like you’re gonna fuck him.”

“I’m not.”

ARTISTS (also including Musicians and Modeling)

Photographer
Pretty Boy by MilkTeaMiku (photographer!Keith)
A pretty Spanish boy shoves a bouquet of flowers under his nose and tells him to stop and smell the roses, so Keith does.

Roommates by manamune (photographer!Lance, artist!Keith)
(13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!

(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.

Sight for Sore Eyes by writewild
Photographer!Lance’s deadline for the magazine he works on the side for is coming up really soon, and has to search last-minute photo opportunities soon. One boy catches his eye.

Riptide by songsofthespring (photographer!keith, surfer!Lance)
Keith fumbles with the camera around his neck and lines up a shot. The boy coasting down a wave, one hand kissing the water. Keith zooms in as far as his lens will allow him. Droplets frame the boy’s brown skin and cling to his hair and chest. His eyes, little pinpricks of light from this distance, are nevertheless still recognizably as bright as the ocean itself. It looks like he could be dancing when he rides a wave; every part of his lanky frame seems to merge with the board and the ocean beneath him.

He’s beautiful.

Foreign Scenes (WIP) by bwyn
Lance has been dreaming of travelling since the first time he heard stories from his family as a child. Now, having finally the time and money to do it, he goes on a trip to Europe to see some of the most culturally rich cities on the continent. Except he keeps bumping into the same guy over and over again, in random cities, doing stupid shit, and ultimately dragging Lance into his trouble, too.

Basically an AU in which Lance and Keith become impromptu travel buddies and get into trouble.

Artist
7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (artist!Keith, ballerina!Lance)

Keith is an art student who mostly keeps to himself, taking note of the beauty in life but keeping his distance from it. This includes the beautiful dancer he sees across the street from his apartment…until a week-long art project pushes him to change that.

(For Klance Secret Santa 2016)

And Now You’re Mine (WIP) by Samyx914 (some artist!Keith)
“No, really. I’ve been thinking about that movie since I got up and that’s the only copy they have and I want it.”

“But, I was faster.”

“But, I want to watch it.” The stranger laughs.

“Well, you could always come home with me to watch it.” He says with a wink.

“Okay.” The stranger’s eyes widen. What the fuck, Keith? No. You don’t go home with strangers… Anymore. 

In which Keith wants to watch a movie, so he goes to find it at Walmart. When there’s only one copy left and someone else picks it up first, his only option is to go home with a stranger. Keith didn’t count on this stranger being so easy to fall for.

Visions by becca2793
"It’s funny, because as a tattoo artist he makes art that lasts pretty much forever – as far as the person who has it is concerned – but a street artist…their art lasts maybe a couple of days.”

Keith comes in for a tattoo; Lance immediately falls in love. With his art. His love for Keith comes later.

Take the Easel Way Out by svensationalist
Oh no, he’s hot, Lance thinks while he’s dying.

(Pidge elbows Lance sharply a little while later. “You’re not dying, dumbass,” they whisper. “Pay attention, the pose started.”)

***

Written for klanceweek day 1, “Red/Blue”. Art class AU where Lance can’t focus because one of the new life drawing models is too attractive.

Cute as Fcuk by anonymouschupacabra
Even though he had never seen the hot guy before in the year that he’d been going to college, it was like the dam had broken, because Lance saw him everywhere. From the sculpture rooms, to the library, to the cafeteria, the guy was everywhere Lance was, and it only made it that much harder to ignore the hot buzzing he felt inside every time he saw him.

Dancers
7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (ballerina!Lance) see above ^

i bet you look good on the dance floor by xShieru
“So like in 'Step Up’?”
Allura shrugs. “Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it’s just like in 'Step Up’.”
The smile that she sends Shiro’s way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn’t believe in dance camps

.-

Lance McClain’s dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Keith just wants to find out what Lance’s deal is.

you raise me up by rhapsodyinpink
“What, you don’t think I look like Patrick Swayze?”

Keith snickers. “Absolutely not. You are Jennifer Grey in this situation.”

“That’s a fair point. Nobody puts me in a corner,” replies Lance, nodding seriously, before his expression turns mischievous.

“So then…are you saying you want to call me Baby?”

Keith flushes red, but stands his ground as he leans in closer. “Are you saying you want me to?”

Shut Up and Dance With Me (WIP) by wittyy_name
Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.

Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.

With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals… or they might crash and burn.

Musicians
That Would Be Alright by icedsonder
And call it spur of the moment, his exacerbated pining over past few months, or even his own alcohol impaired judgment, but Keith let his inhibitions take a backseat as he took a step forward and pressed his forehead against Lance’s to sing his next lines.

“I know I’ll fall in love with you, baby”

Musically Insane by myparadisepalace
It had only taken Lance three days after becoming the blue paladin to realize there were no instruments in the castle. And even if there were, Lance figured they’d be too obscure and strange for him to be able to play.

PROFESSIONS (i.e. cops, doctors, EMTs, waiters)

Soldiers/Assassins/Spies
Counting in Code by DLanaDHZ
There was no one better in the field. The Voltron Force was efficient and deadly, and they took no new recruits. They were hand-picked, and though they didn’t always get along, they were family. Under the stress of a mission, the team counted each other as a way to calm down and focus. But Keith couldn’t count, because counting meant he knew where everyone was, and right now all he had was a pair of bloody dog tags in place of his partner.

blink if you want me by xShieru
He wakes up to Pidge’s face hovering above him. “You gotta stop running into him like this.”
“Dude, he fucking shot me.”
“I know. We saw.”

-

A hitmen AU wherein two thirsty assholes fall for each other and then jeopardize their respective missions because of it.

Retail/Food (waiters/cashiers/clerks)
Melt With You by dumpsterdiva
If you ask Keith what summer means to him, he’ll say shitty weather, a bag of quarters, sticky blue raspberry kisses, and not-quite-midnight sandwiches.

Summer job AU at the pier feat. Keith as a shaved ice slave and Lance as an aquarium camp counselor.

You Dropped a Bomb by quartetship
Lance loved his job.

OR: The Klance LUSH au

Tollbooth Operator
Drive Me Crazy by battleshidge
Keith stared blankly at the tollbooth operator for a moment before trying to stifle a groan. Somehow, he always managed to get the booth with the flirtatious attendant, a lanky brown-haired man with clear blue eyes and a confident grin. It didn’t matter that he changed what lane he went through—at least three times a week on his way home from work, Keith was forced to suffer through the horrendous flirts that this man tossed his way.

Taxi Driver
Finish What You Started by battleshidge
“You were right,” Keith breathed, looking up at Lance with a fire in his eyes. “I did start this,” he lifted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s jaw. And another. And another. Lance thought it was torture—sweet, sweet torture. And then that challenge sparked in Keith’s eyes again as he asked, tone low and resonant, “Are you going to finish it?”

Pizza Delivery
You Stole a Pizza My Heart by KaSaPe
Keith just wanted a pizza. The cute delivery boy with the weird grin and stupid flirting (?) had other plans.

Or: Keith just doesn’t get Lance’s flirting. At all.

Lifeguards
six foot dive (WIP) by shizuoh
“I’m bisexual,” Lance says.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. “Good… for you?”

“I’d like to buy you a drink,” he starts, and grins, “and then get sexual.”

Keith shoves him into the water.

(or: lance and his family go to california for a two-month vacation. cue hot lifeguard keith gyeong-kogane.)

Lessons by amycoolz and SylviaW1991
Keith has been nothing but a thorn in Lance’s side since the mullet-haired ass first walked into the classroom. But when he decides to get himself shoved into the deep end and, wow, can’t even swim, Lance has to save his pretty self and then Pidge volunteers him to teach Keith how to swim. Great. Just great.

Nurse
Racing Heartbeats and Hospital Bedsheets by screwtodayimsleeping (nurse!Keith)
Me: Hunk
Me: Buddy
Me: emergency!!!!
HunkyBae: what’s up, lance? Are they not letting you out of the hospital yet?
Me: HUNK
Me: the male nurse that took my blood was probably the sexiest person i’ve ever seen
Me: and im literally wearing two sheets as an outfit

BUSINESSES (e.g. Coffeeshop, flower shop, animal shelter)

Office
eyes wide to you with wonder by aknightley
Keith doesn’t dislike his job, but he definitely dislikes Lance. Probably. Maybe.

“Coran thinks you’ll bang at the Christmas party but I think that’s giving you guys way too much credit,” Pidge says thoughtfully. “Hunk is a romantic. He thinks Lance is gonna ask you out any day now. I think he’s got a week or so before he owes me like a hundred bucks.”

“Pidge, what the fuck?” Keith says, flustered. He nudges them again with his foot, this time slightly harder. They scowl at him, swatting him away. “Why would you bet on me and Lance?”
Part 1 of Office AU

Flower Shop
i’ll gift you the stars by Kyoshu_Koi
Flowers and stars. At least they were giving him things he liked.

Cactus by PinkHitman
When Keith moves from the desert in the middle of ass backwards nowhere, to plop in the middle of the big city, he doesn’t expect to instantly grow fond of the tall, endearing, jerk across the street. But it’s hard not to see roses when said person works in a flower shop.

Arcade
got game by warschach
Lance hates his job until the one day he doesn’t.

Bakery
you’re so sweet; will you be mine?  by jojotext
A new bakery pops up right across the street from Lance’s bakery.

In which Lance is an idiot, Keith is an asshole, and Pidge is the next Dr. Phil.

Coffeeshop
nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts and thebrotherswinchester
Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

SOCIAL MEDIA (Tumblr AU, bloggers, Youtubers, gamers)

Youtubers
you had me at merlot by DJAlien
“Oh my God,” Lance says as he covers his face. Keith’s tinny voice blares from his laptop speakers: “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.” See, this joke might have been funny if someone charismatic and charming had said it, but Keith’s flat voice and even flatter expression effectively kidnaps, tortures, and then decapitates any chance of it being remotely humorous.

Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you’d expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture)

The Boyfriend Tag by theoddpacolypse
Keith and Lance are famous YouTubers, along with the rest of their friends, and though they consider each other “rivals” in some ways, they are actually incredibly close. So close that they are actually dating in secret and constantly dropping hints to their fans, whom desperately want them together.
Part 1 of What Happens on Youtube series

Gamers
Next Level (WIP) by battleshidge
“Dammit, Blue, don’t die on us yet! We only just started!”

Red’s voice snapped in his ears, and Lance cursed under his breath. He tried to backpedal quickly, but being flat on his back with the enemy looming above made for certain movement limitations. On top of that, he was already injured, and he could see the red patch spreading across his thigh. He could really use some of Hunk’s portable healing pods, that was for sure. And that, Lance observed, was a very nasty looking knife that was about to plunge straight through his chest.

Well, shit.

Effect: +100% Love, -100% Logic (WIP) by manamune
In the real world, Lance is barely making it by in his senior year. He’s failing most of his classes and is only one more fuck up away from being kicked off the swim team.

In the virtual reality game Voltron, Lance lives an entirely different life as the internationally-known Blue, an archer with impeccable aim. He’s filthy rich, has a trillion friends, and is a part of the most feared guild in the game.There’s just one problem: he’s madly in love one of his guildmates, Red.

Things begin to go downhill when a kid who acts suspiciously similar to Red transfers to Lance’s school.

Bloggers
a recipe for two by battleshidge
He wondered, briefly, what the look on Lance’s face would be if he actually did say yes.

It’s Mutual (Follow Back Already) by JessicaMDawn
At twenty-four, Keith decides to figure out what this 'tumblr’ thing is. It’s confusing at first, but Keith learns to have fun with it with help from a few new friends. AKA Keith’s adventures on tumblr.

anonymous asked:

hey would you ever do a "what if harry potter had been a girl" story? or a trans girl? i don't know how much gender would change things except other people's perceptions but...

Hermione went to the library, when Harry first confided in her. Whatever the faculty, the administration, or the Ministry believed or didn’t believe, the Hogwarts library gave the children what they needed and always would.

Hermione came back with books and books on gender in wizarding history, on the spells and words wizards had used for centuries or decades or mere years, and she and Harry bent their heads together and figured out what words Harry felt best told her story. From her hometown library, after that first summer, Hermione brought back memoirs and brightly-colored pamphlets that Harry read through instead of finishing her Potions homework.

When Harry looked in the Mirror of Erised, she still saw her mother, her father, all her gathered, lost kin. The specter of her father gathered up her hands in his. Her mother pushed back the long dark hair Petunia had always made her cut short and she called her beautiful.

When she looked into it again, after Devil’s Snare and winged keys, giant chess and Ron lying prone on the floor, Hermione wringing her eleven year old hands in the potion riddle room– When Harry looked into the Mirror again, she saw herself, just herself. The girl in the mirror winked and smiled and slipped the Stone in Harry’s pocket. No matter what other wishes and want laid on her narrow shoulders, at the end of the day the thing Harry wanted most was to help. Harry brushed one hand over the lump of rock in her robe pocket, and then brushed her other over her mess of hair, which was feet shorter than the girl in the mirror’s.

She woke up in the hospital wing, bedside table piled high with candy.

Once Harry and Hermione had sussed out between them what the words were for what was going on here, they had explained it to Ron. Harry didn’t come out to anyone else until partway through second year, though, at the height of the Heir of Slytherin nonsense.

She was fed up, then. She just wanted to be left alone, and this wouldn’t help with that, but they were all already staring. Keeping this to herself felt like a vice around her chest. Hogwarts was supposed to be better.

After, Ron came almost to blows with anyone who goggled or sniffed or rolled their eyes. Seamas learned to swallow his tongue. Draco Malfoy didn’t. Hermione wrote up an explanatory note about appropriate pronouns in her best penmanship and then copied it with flicks of her wand. With Harry’s embarrassed permission, she gave it to every professor Harry had or would ever have.

Colin Creevey stopped her in the Great Hall with a tug on her sleeve. She turned, shoulders rising, and the kid said in his piping voice, “You’re still my hero.”

That was better than it could have been, but she wasn’t sure she liked the “still.”

Peeves, though he was nasty about everything else–ickle firsties and orphan girls–got it immediately. For all six years of her Hogwarts tenure, he dropped water balloons on the heads of anyone who misgendered her. Professor Binns never quite figured it out, but he didn’t know any student’s name. Nearly Headless Nick gallantly and somewhat awkwardly called her lady and tried to hold open doors for her, despite the fact that he couldn’t open them.

Snape called Harry “Mr. Potter” for all seven years that he was in Harry’s life. Around year three, Ron stopped counting the detentions he got for his increasingly sarcastic responses to this.

The whispers about the Heir of Slytherin grew louder and louder, keeping pace with “Uh, I thought it was the Boy Who Lived?” Fred and George Weasley took it upon themselves to walk Harry to and from class when they could, talking loudly enough to drown everything out.

Then Hermione got Petrified and the Heir whispers stopped abruptly. Harry, if she hadn’t been busy with Ron trading off reading their assigned textbooks aloud to Hermione in the infirmary, might have felt gratified that the whole school knew how much this bushy-haired kid meant to her. Alright, so they thought she might murder Muggleborns with a mysterious monster, or sic a snake on her opponent in a dueling club? But they knew she wouldn’t hurt Hermione for anything.

In the Chamber, she met Tom Riddle. He was supposed to be her mirror, though she didn’t quite know that yet. He was supposed to be her shadow, the chain around her ankle, the other half (or another eighth) of her story and his soul.

Ginny had been trying to speak for months– to tell someone, to open the diary and the bag under her bed full of chicken-blood-stained robes and to thrust them into the light. But Percy had shushed her, all his assumptions orbiting his own importance to her story. The teachers had patted her on the head. She had been frightened, eleven years old with Tom whispering in her ear, guiding her hands.

Harry had been trying to speak for years– to explain to someone the way she did not feel like Dudley, like Vernon, like the boys in the locker room at school. Hermione had listened. Hermione had given her books and books of people who felt like her. Ron had listened, and taught her wizard’s chess, and kicked Draco in the shins.

But here Harry was, standing alone– a red-haired lump at her feet, dark robes sodden with moldy water. Hermione was frozen. Ron was trapped behind a rock fall and Tom was pacing, gloating, glowing. Ginny was breathing. Ginny had to be breathing. Harry was going to save her. She had to, because no one had listened to the kid, not even Harry.

The phoenix tears left no scars on Harry’s arm. Riddle, the Chamber, the life going out of her, everything that had happened in that long year– none of it left scars on Ginny, or at least none that anyone could see.

When Harry got back to 4 Privet Drive that summer, she suffered through Aunt Petunia’s annual hair cut and then she curled up with Hedwig and wrote a letter. She wrote about the Muggle candies she missed when at Hogwarts, and how her cousin thought she was weird for being excited about summer homework. She asked Ginny how she was.

Ginny wrote back after a long week. She didn’t answer the question, but she wrote about helping Dad on the car, about the apple harvest coming, and Fred and George playing pranks on the ghoul in the attic.

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agirlcalledfrost  asked:

OH OH OH PLEASE TELL US A BOARDING SCHOOL STORY PRETTY PLEASE

so my school had this thing called “senior skip day,” except that senior skip day didn’t exist and every year the administration sent out emails in the spring that were like DON’T FUCKIN SKIP CLASS OR YOU WILL RECEIVE RESTRICTION (restriction was like, my boarding school’s equivalent of detention where instead of staying after school you had to go to bed early and help stuff envelopes advertising the summer program until your hands were BLOODIED AND CRIPPLED BY CARPAL TUNNEL) and every year the seniors were like YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!

  • spoiler alert: yes they can? THEY ALWAYS CAN.
  • 200 years of american high school and teenagers still think that there is a cap limit on kids in detention and that you can leave after 15 minutes if the teacher doesn’t show up.

anyway, my senior year, we all got together and nattered at each other until some brave soldier (i feel like it was my friend paula but WHO KNOWS) was like “OK SENIOR SKIP DAY IS THIS THURSDAY!!!! NOBODY GO TO CLASS OR UR A SCAB.”

  • she didn’t say scab because she’s not from the 1920s and we aren’t newsies, though this story would be way more interesting if we were
  • what she said was “YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!”
  • except not yolo because it was 2009 and drake hadn’t been invented yet except as a dear sweet boy in a wheelchair.

we also used this email system to communicate with one another that has very deeply informed the way i understand email and which probably makes it very frustrating to be my friend and receive emails that have subject lines like “URGENT” and then just 42 links to the same florida georgia line youtube video.

  • I’M NOT ASHAMED, but in that way where like i kind of AM ashamed so i’m really aggressively NOT ashamed? 

so the day of reckoning rolls around and my alarm goes off at 8 (class started at 8:05 but i liked to PLAY WITH FIRE when it came to being late; my mom actually asked the school to stop emailing her when i was a sophomore because i was late so often that their rote “Mrs. Ofgeography we are emailing you to say—” was CLOGGING UP HER INBOX and she was like “i GET IT MY CHILD IS THE MOST BORING MISCREANT OF ALL TIME.”) and i looked at my roommate elle and she looked at me and went, “you going?”

“hell no,” i said. “YOLO. they can’t punish all of us.”

elle, who was far prettier and far cooler than i was with the notable exception of her obsession with tswift’s “love story” and her tendency to look at the endangered species list and cry sometimes during study hall, quickly bizounced across the street to this shopping center thing where all the cool kids smoked in secret where huge trucks dropped off clothes for the Dress Barn. i think there were also tennis courts nearby. more importantly there was this chinese food delivery place and a lil restaurant that made HELLA BAGELS.

  • WHAT KIND OF BAGELS?
  • FUCKIN
  • HELLA.

off goes elle! meanwhile i’m like, “yessssss i’m gonna use senior skip day to watch 14 hours of tv shows and eat frozen peanut butter bars that i stole from the dining hall! I’M GONNA LIVE LIKE I’M 23 ALONE IN CHICAGO ON A WEEKEND WHEN MY ONLY PLAN IS TAKEOUT AND CUDDLING WITH THE FAUX-SNOW-LEOPARD BLANKET I WILL ONE DAY SURELY OWN.” 

of course, during this time the administration was continuing to send out emails that reminded us with increasing urgency that senior skip day was NOT A THING and that we were ALL GETTING RESTRICTION if we didn’t get our STUPID ASSES TO CLASS, GODDAMNIT, WE ARE NOT RUNNING A CIRCUS HERE. 

but i was like! yolo, motherfuckers!!! i already got into college, YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.

at some point during the day elle and our friend ginna came back to the room with takeout from the chinese delivery place and we sat on our floor eating it and probably watching veronica mars or looking at the endangered species list and crying.

all of a sudden, elle said, “guys shut up, guys shut up, GUYS SHUT UP,” and ginna and i were like, “WHAT we have a LOT to SAY about FRIED FUCKING DUMPLINGS, ELLE,“ and elle said, "did you hear that?”

“hear what?”

that!”

‘that’ was the sound of one of our dorm moms, mrs. f, knocking on doors and saying things like, “IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR BUTTS TO CLASS IN 5 MINUTES YOU’RE ON CATEGORY 4 RESTRICTION FOREVER.” elle quickly scampered up our raised beds to hide in the corner, where a tiny human like elle could actually hide from view; i leapt immediately into what we called a closet but was basically a cubby with a flap that was DEFINITELY not meant for a 5'8” individual with knobby as hell knees.

our door, which was never locked because we both hated the effort of typing in the lock code, opened. mrs. f said, “mollyhall?”

i held my breath. 

  • i should add here that i seemed to be operating on like a scooby-doo level of logic where basically i thought that she was somehow NOT ALLOWED to investigate?
  • like, if she can’t see me, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that she could prove i’m in here, right?
  • she’ll just poke her head in and be like oH GOSH NO KIDS HERE and leave!!

you can see the flaw in my logic.

mrs. f sighed. “mollyhall, i know you’re in here, i literally heard your voice ten seconds ago.”

  • there’s no WAY she guesses i’m in the closet!!!

“mollyhall, i know you’re in the closet.”

  • NO YOU DON’T
  • I AM SCHRÖDINGER’S SENIOR

“mollyhall—”

there was a creak. mrs. f stopped. it wasn’t actually a “creak,” so much as this like, prolonged groan? like it’s the sound an elephant would make if it sat on a really large accordion.

i poked my head out of the closet. mrs. f looked at me. elle sat up.

i said, “where’s ginna?”

  • YOU KNOW WHERE GINNA WAS.

“um,” said elle, “she’s in the—”

  • GINNA NO

ginna yes.

i really wish i could describe the sound the ceiling made when it collapsed. it sounded a lot like the way losing your breath feels. i sort of remember ginna falling in like, really slow motion, like i could see the expression on her face. i didn’t really think about how i would describe this in words. ginna’s face said:

  • oh no.
  • what have i done?
  • this was a mistake. 
  • i regret a series of decisions that i have made.
  • is there a way out of this?
  • are those oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • why are there oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • mollyhall, you HAVE a food cupboard, what good is a food cupboard if you don’t—
  • oh, crap.

she belly flopped onto the floor. i mean, the girl bounced. and then she just laid there. mrs. f looked at her. elle looked at her. i looked at her, still mostly in the closet. we were all going to get category 4 restriction forever.

ginna said, “hi, mrs. f. i feel like i should explain.”

soul-rin-natsu  asked:

Can you recommend any klance fics?.

I can definitely recommend lots of klance fics. As in, lots lots. I am not completely sure what you are looking for/what you have already read though, so I’m just gonna list some of my favorite authors with some of my favorite fics. 

Quick additional info: there are no explicit fics on here, though some are rated mature. All of the stories have klance as their only ship but since I intended this to be author recs rather than fic recs, I will mention what kinds of other ships appear in other fics. 

Now then, here you go, in no particular order:

manamune

- Crossroads (106k): not quite canon verse, not quite AU - check the summary

- Plunged (6k): canon verse, Lance teaches Keith how to swim

Roommates (6k): modern AU, Artist!Keith, Photographer!Lance, exactly what the title says

This author’s writing is amazingly smooth and I particularly enjoy their Keith. Crossroads was my favorite fic for a long, long time until I found some others that were just as good :D [this author also wrote some nsfw and sheith]

magisterpavus 

- He Who Fights Monsters (65k): AU, there are dragons

This author has a style of writing that makes you forget that time exists. Like, you read their stories, look up 2 hours later and go “what the hell I only just started reading 5 minutes ago”. Their fics are pretty action-heavy but the romance part never falls short. [they wrote a lot of nsfw, their newest fic is shklance]

mackerelmademedoit

- Entangled (102k): canon verse, Keith and Lance get mind-melded

- Right-hand Man (4k): canon verse, Keith approaches Lance after the end of season 2 to talk about their roles from now on

Amazing characterizations here. I particularly enjoyed the OS because it seemed like something that genuinely could happen like this in canon… sadly I don’t think it will, but one can dream, right :’D Also amazing art! [they wrote some nsfw]

redburn

- it had to be you (9k): modern AU, Keith and Lance are professors, lots of flirting

- Echoes In Your Mind (7k): canon verse, Keith is turning Galra

- let the whole world know (4k): modern AU, soulmates AU

I honestly don’t know why I like this author so much? Probably because they can squeeze an entire story into less than 10k words, complete with character development and appearances from friends etc. I liked many more of their OS but there are just so many, you should check it out for yourself. [they wrote some nsfw and shallura]

varelsen

- Not That Bad (68k): modern AU, socially anxious!Keith, lots and lots of fluff

- just like that (10k): canon verse, Lance struggles with his crush on Keith

this author just? makes reading feel so good? so relaxing?? Their style is focused on conveying emotions and flows really nicely, I strongly recommend to give it a try. [their newest story is nsfw and includes lancelot]

battleshidge (Amiria_Raven)

- Drive Me Crazy (8k): modern AU, lots of flirting and stupid pick-up lines

- Next Level (33k; WIP): modern AU, online gaming, they know each other but they don’t know that they know each other

The style of writing is really, really good and I love how everyone’s friendships get portrayed. The author is also pretty good at writing conflicted emotions. [they wrote some shallura and shidge]

aknightley

- it’s all in my head (8k): canon verse, mind meld

This author is super good with emotions. You always end up feeling what the characters are feeling and I’d definitely recommend going through their other fics as well - once again, there are just so many that I won’t list them all. [they wrote some nsfw and shallura]

lemoninagin

- You Can Fog Up My Windows Anytime (3k): modern AU, all the awkward flirting

Another author that has a fantastic style of writing and portrays the characters really well. Also another author that wrote so many good things that I can’t possibly put them all on here. [they wrote some nsfw, sheith, shklance, shallura- lots of stuff, check the tags]

MilkTeaMiku

- Moonset Deep (50k, WIP): mermaid AU, lance is the mermaid

- The Quiet (40k, WIP): ghost AU, lance is the ghost

- 7 Days Series (pt 1 - 30k, pt 2 - 30k, pt 3 - 4k): canon verse, lance/keith get turned into babies

Amazing writing, plot-orientated. Don’t let that fool you though, the emotions never fall short. [they wrote some shallura, shance and other ships - also their fics aren’t rated. the ones listed are entirely sfw]

Zizzani

- Drive It Like You Mean It (94k): modern AU, street racing AU, it gets pretty intense later

This writer has a really fluent and nice style of writing and they somehow manage to easily let lots of characters interact. Everyone feels extremely in character and nothing feels forced. Also I know nothing about cars and yet their fics belong to my favorites, so give it a try. [they wrote some shallura]

shipstiel

- Of Don Juan And Elvis (3k): modern AU, soulmate AU

- Barbie Girl (2k): modern AU, soulmate AU, continuation

I’m not sure whether it’s just me but no matter what fic of them I read, they always feel– soft. Easy. Something good for in-between. One of their fics (not the ones listed here) has some pretty heavy topics in it and yet I still feel like that. [they wrote some shallura]

Gigapoodle

- A Moment in the Snow (3k): canon verse, Galra!Keith, snowball fights, fluff

- Carpe Diems and Chrysanthemums (14k): modern AU, hanahaki disease, trans Lance, angst with a happy ending

- A Quarter Past Midnight (14k): canon verse, trans Keith, angst with a happy ending

This author is amazing at writing angst. It just always hits you right in the feels. Like damn. I adore their writing so much but ho boy I was too scared to click the one Chara Death fic they wrote. I couldn’t do that to myself, the two longer OS that I listed here already gave me enough feelings. [they wrote some shallura]

Trashness 

- Nightmares (15k): canon verse, sleeping together, as in snuggling, fluff

- Costumed Identities (42k): modern AU, cosplay AU, they know each other but they don’t know they know each other

This author writes Keith’s and Lance’s interactions really nicely. They also never fail to make me smile/laugh with their fics, they are all really cute!! Lots of light heartened stuff here.

SKayLanphear

- Running Flat (11k): canon verse, thought sharing, lance is trying to figure out who has the crush on him

- A Commutal Contract (24k, WIP): canon verse, bed sharing

I really really really enjoy this author’s Lance!! He feels incredibly in character and I swear I can see him act in canon just like he does in the fics. Their style of writing is fluent, nice and adapts really well to the situation.


[I also really enjoy witty_name’s and freshia’s fics, both of whom usually put background shallura into their fics though so I couldn’t list them here]


Aaaand that’s it for now! :D If you have a specific length/specific topics/specific ratings in mind for what you want to read, feel free to send another message!! You can also visit the fic rec tag on my blog, maybe you’ll find something else there.

/EDIT: now there is a part two with some other of my favorite fics

Hear Your Heart (M)

Genre: fluff, smut, hybrid!au

Word Count: 11k 

Summary:  You really liked learning more about Yoongi. You liked that he didn’t need to whisper all of his deepest secrets into your ear because you felt like you could see into his heart- see who he truly was behind all of the fronts he put up in front of others.

Keep reading

You Don’t Know Me | 2

Request: I can’t really think about an actual story plot but maybe yoongi getting you pregnant and he chickens out… Aw This is such a bad description but since you’re an amazing writer ypu can pull it off better ☺💖 thank you!

Originally posted by sugaglos

Pairing: Yoongi + Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.922

Warnings: swearing, numbers (lolol)

A/N: gosh I suck at math so I hope the numbers are right… also please leave feedback if you want more!


A month.

4 weeks.

31 days.

744 hours.

44.640 minutes.

2.678.400 seconds.

155 breakdowns.

49 panic attacks. 

12 sleepless nights. 

That’s how you counted the time since you had last heard from Yoongi. All that time passed without him answering your calls or messages, leaving you on read and declining every single one of your calls. 

He wants me to feel ignored, otherwise he’d just let the phone ring - or not click on my messages.

He wants me to know he’s there but not ready yet.

That’s his game.

You didn’t want to give up on him. He was everything you had, everything you had counted on. He was your best friend, your partner in crime, your lover and your other half. You had hoped for a future with Yoongi. Always supporting him and his moody behavior. Being there for him no matter what because you knew how stressed he was and how burdened he felt. So you didn’t stop leaving messages, as random as they were. You knew he was just being stubborn, you knew he would never leave you just like that.

He loves me.

He does.

He’s just having a hard time.

You started coming by their dorms every second day, hoping to get Yoongi out of his box. Being friends with the boys as well, they didn’t really mind. It was weird for you in the beginning because you two had been dating for so long, yet you had never really been at the dorms that often. Dating Yoongi meant spending more time with him at the studio than at the dorms. It was a nice change to be able to spend time with the others as well but you always knew in the back of your mind that the actual reason behind that situation was everything else but nice. And Yoongi knew how to remind you every time you visited - not once had you seen his face or heard his voice. He disappeared as soon as he knew you were coming over and wouldn’t come back until you had already left. You weren’t even the one telling him that you were coming over, hoping that one day he’d be there to talk things out face to face but he always found his ways to be gone before you could even notice. You still saw his things lying around, things he usually had lying around at your dorm. Familiar pieces of his, spread around the dorm, reminding you how his things were here but he would never be.

He’s just not ready. He needs time.

The boys knew what had happened between you two and you felt their pitiful glances they threw your way when they thought you weren’t paying attention. But you saw. They were always there. During dinner. While playing video games. Helping with the chores. Watching a movie. Going over their choreographies. You saw and it broke you more each time. Even they knew how pathetic you were behaving. 

And that’s what it was - pathetic. You knew it, Yoongi knew it, the boys knew it, everybody knew it. Still, you couldn’t give up because in the end of the day, it wasn’t only about you and Yoongi but about the baby. Your baby needed a dad, not only a father. And you were just as stubborn as Yoongi, so you wouldn’t give up so easily. Your child was not going to be raised by a single mom, a college student who could barely take care of herself. It was going to live better than that.

He’ll give in. I know he will. 

At that moment, a soft pillow hit you in the face and screams erupted through the living room. Before you could realize what was going on, Taehyung had ducked behind you, making Jungkook run around your tiny figure in circles, making Taehyung shove you around like a shield to protect himself, earning screams of confusion from you.  

“You coward, move away from (Y/N)!”, Jungkook screamed and laughed before jumping forward, taking you to the ground with him as he landed on Tae, pinning his figure to the ground in a merciless grip.

“Jungkook, let go, you’re gonna break my arm!”, Taehyung laughed while screaming out in pain, making Jin came rushing into the living room to your side. Stretching out his hands for you, you thankfully grabbed them and he helped you up before parting the two boys in one swift move.

“Are you two crazy?! We have a pregnant woman here, you could have hurt her and the baby! Stop running around like that or you’ll be cooking your own meals until this baby decides to break free”, Jin scolded while sitting you down on the couch, handing you a pillow and a blanket. You raised your eyebrows at him in confusion and laughed at his choice of words.

“For support. The baby needs it”, he simply answered and positioned it himself when you didn’t make a single move. 

“You can’t do that Jin Hyung! She’s not even fat yet!”, Jungkook exclaimed and earned a smack on the back of his head from his hyung. The maknae winced and rubbed his head in pain, whilst Taehyung laughed at the comical scene in front of him, earning a death glare from Jin.

“Shh, you don’t say that to a girl Jungkook. Don’t you have any manners?”, Jin looked angry but you just laughed and sat up.

“He’s right though, I’m not even fat yet. I’m just two months pregnant, Jin. Stop worrying so much”, you smiled at the older boy but he just shook his head and sat down next to you as the two others left the room to play video games in their bedroom.

“The first three months are the most critical ones (Y/N)! You should know that. Anything could happen”, he looked at you seriously concerned, so you grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumbs over his soft skin. You noticed him shiver and quickly look away but chose to ignore it.

“I know Jinnie. Thank you for taking such good care of me. I don’t know where I’d be without you”, you grinned foolishly but meant it. He had been there for you the second Yoongi decided to break it off and ignore you. In the heat of the moment you had called Jin right after you had calmed down from the first shock and since then he hadn’t left your side. He always made sure that you were doing okay, that you were eating and getting enough sleep, even bringing over food to your dorm himself if you couldn’t come over. He also made you tell him your check up appointments so he’d know if anything was wrong. He cared and you were truly thankful.

“You’d definitely be lost, I can tell you that”, he mumbled but smiled and pulled you into a hug. You were taken aback for a second as you inhaled his scent. He smelled manlier than expected and for a second, goosebumps arose on your skin before you heard a door being slammed shut and someone shuffling lazily into the room. You turned around, breaking free from the embrace and saw him. He was standing still in between doors, eyes glued to Jin’s hands on your waist.

“Yoongi”, you exhaled, eyes wide and watery as your heart started beating faster by every second that passed while he just stared. He looked exhausted, more than usual. Deep bags under his eyes, colored in deep purple and blue, signaling that he mustn’t have gotten lots of sleep in the past couple of weeks. His skin looked paler than ever and dehydrated, having lost all natural glow. His figure was skinnier than ever and you were scared that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer. At least he seemed to have taking care of his hair and clothes as his outfit and hair were styled enough to walk out of the house.

“I-I’m going to see what the others are doing”, Jin quickly got up, shooting you one last glance before walking out in the opposite direction of Yoongi. The boy’s eyes followed his hyung until he had left the room, basically shooting daggers into his direction before turning his gaze to you.

“Yoongi we-”, you started but he interrupted you harshly.

“Why was he touching you like that?”, his voice was icy like the last words that he had directed at you when he left you a month ago.

You were confused. “What?”

“Why was he touching you like that (Y/N)?”, his stare had something unreadable in it. Hands balled into fists on the sides of his body, his eyes didn’t leave your face.

“Touch like what Yoongi?”, Jin had only hugged you. You didn’t know what was going on. 

“His hands were on your fucking waist (Y/N)! Don’t act like I’m fucking blind”, he scoffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Oh.

He was jealous. Min Yoongi was jealous even though he had broken up with you. Even though he had ignored all your calls and texts, avoided you for a whole month and left you with an unborn baby. 

That’s when it clicked.

Calling your state furious would be an understatement.

“So what if his hands were on my waist? He takes very good care of me and the baby, so he’s allowed to touch me”, you spat in an attempt to let Yoongi feel what you had been feeling that whole time. Even though he looked bad, he couldn’t have been through half the stuff you had been through the last weeks.

In the end of the day, he was the one who broke it off right?

Yoongi huffed and went through his hair with one hand. “So what, Jin’s the baby daddy now? As soon as I’m not available, you run to the next best dude?”, he was practically screaming at this point and you heard a door being shut silently. The boys were trying not to listen.

Damnit.

“As soon as you’re not available? Are you fucking insane? You broke up with me because I told you that I am pregnant. I tried to get you back because I knew you are stubborn and just needed time but you treated me like shit, Yoongi. Like literal shit. I come by every other day to get you to talk to me but no, mister fuckhead even knows a way to avoid me at his own home”, you had stood up and your face was red from anger at that point. Tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably. Your chest was burning from the heartache and all the pain he was making you go through again. Flashbacks from the painful words he had thrown at you, came rushing back, a new panic attack arising within you. 

Please not now.

“I-I didn’t mean to”, he whispered and lowered his head. 

“What?”, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly. Trying to calm down your breathing, you closed your eyes and balled your hands into small fists.

“I said, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that”, he lifted his gaze and spoke up, voice breaking as he looked at your state.

“Well surprise, you did it anyway”, you held back a sob, putting a hand over your mouth as soon as those words were out. You didn’t want to cry anymore. You had cried enough in the last couple of weeks. 

It just didn’t seem to end.

“You’re going to fall one day.”

Member: Mark Lee x Reader
Genre: Little Angst/little Fluff 
Word Count: 1,944 words

Y’all this is my first scenario, I hope you enjoy! It’s a little rushed, sorry about that! Also please tell me if you like it or not, please~

(A/N I just reread this and realized that i have many typos sorry friends;;;)

-TT

Originally posted by haechannie

Another day at school. At least it was Friday, and you didn’t have much to do in most of your classes. You sighed, your dumbass stayed up late again scrolling through your explore page on Instagram.

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THINK TO ME, LIKE LOVERS DO –  3.4k


“Come on, Derek, just let us in, okay? We can’t help you if you don’t let us in!”

Scott banged on the loft door again, the metallic clank echoing around the spacious room, but Derek did not get up to open it. Instead he stayed pressed against the wall of windows, as far away as he could possibly get.

“How would that possibly help, Scott?” he called back. “The closer you are, the worse it gets!”

Even from this distance he could still hear whispers, brushing up against his mind, thankfully indistinct enough to be ignored for the moment. Earlier, in the sorcerer’s lair, the voices had been loud and persistent and completely inescapable at close range. This was better. Obviously it wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least he was no longer hearing things he didn’t want to hear.

Normally, Derek liked to think of himself as a cautious person. Maybe not in all aspects of his life, but on the whole Derek prefered to think before he acted and thereby not act in stupid ways. So what the hell he had been thinking toying with unidentified magical artefacts found in the home of the malicious sorcerer they had spent a week tracking down and eliminating, he couldn’t say. Judging by the suddenly-audible thoughts of everyone around him in the moment the pendant had started glowing and whistling, he hadn’t been thinking at all.

So now here he was, behind the locked door of his loft, hiding from anyone and everyone whose mind he might involuntarily invade. Because that was his luck.

“We need to figure out what exactly is going on,” Scott argued in that annoyingly reasonable tone of his. “If Deaton can determine what curse it is—if it’s even a curse! It might not be! But if he can do that, then he can work on reversing it. But he can’t do that from all the way out here.”

Derek gritted his teeth against a snarl. He didn’t want to be within a mile of anyone else right now. He didn’t want to hear what other people thought of him; he had long had his suspicions on that matter, and the last thing he needed was confirmation of those depressing facts. But Scott had a point. If he didn’t want to live the rest of his miserable life as an unwilling telepath, Deaton was his best shot.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But for the love of all that is holy, Scott, try to keep your mind off Allison.

The mental images Derek had from the ten seconds between the onset of the curse and when everyone else had realized what was happening had scarred him for life.

With every step he took toward the door, the voice in Derek’s ear got that much louder, strangely light and insubstantial in a way that was hard to define but made it obvious even without seeing Scott’s closed mouth that the words weren’t being spoken out loud.

I don’t think about Allison that much, do I? Just because her hair smells good and she was wearing that shirt today with the — like the blue one better, it makes her look like — probably stay over at her place tonight if her dad doesn’t try to shoot me again — need to take milk home to mom, though, don’t forget —

Derek yanked open the door and immediately backed away, hoping that even a few feet would make the thoughts less demanding. He was thoroughly caught off guard to see Deaton standing quietly at Scott’s side; he couldn’t hear a single thought from the man. When Derek turned his attention on him, he just got a very strong impression of a brick wall.

Deaton smiled that cryptic little smile of his, like he was the one reading minds now.

“A mental block,” he said. “A technique for shielding the mind, perfected through years of practice and meditation.”

“Like Occlumency?” Derek asked.

“Not unlike it,” Deaton said easily. “Sadly, not something that can be picked up by novices in a few hours.”

Well, there went his last hope.

Derek let himself be tugged down onto his own couch by Deaton and sent up a prayer of thanks when Scott took the hint to not crowd him. That didn’t stop him from catching stray thoughts— really should get some curtains or something, this place is depressing — smells like sad in here, god, I hate chemosignals —but it was better than a constant deluge of them.

There was some poking and prodding, some following the light exercises, and some sort of obscure, extrasensory magical goings-on before Deaton sat back with another almost-reassuring smile.

“It’s not a permanent spell,” he said, “nor a complex one. However, it is one that requires the source to be destroyed.”

“The source?” Derek asked. “The sorcerer is already dead. Why am I still being subjected to this?”

“By source, I mean the artefact in which the curse was contained,” Deaton clarified. “Luckily, we have the artefact on hand. Now it’s only a matter of destroying it.”

“How long should that take?” Scott asked.

“Shouldn’t be long,” Deaton said, standing up and dusting off his lab coat. “A week or two at the most.”

“A week or two?” Derek repeated, horrified.

Don’t know why he’s so upset by that, we go weeks without seeing him anyway — kind of a hermit, honestly — oh god, he can hear me, can’t he, fuck —

“It’ll be fine,” Scott said bracingly, and Derek had a strong urge to punch him in the face. Luckily, Scott seemed to sense it and started hastily backing up toward the door, thumbing over his shoulder. “Deaton will get you fixed up in no time! In the meantime, I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“Please do,” Derek muttered.

The silence, when Scott and Deaton were gone and the door shut firmly behind them, seemed emptier than it usually did, but Derek was grateful for it nonetheless.

Keep reading

Second Chances (m)

Word Count: 8,833

Warning: Yoongi smut

A/N: I decided to write something a little less serious for a change! The smut turned out a little longer than I expected it to, which is also why the story turned out so close to 9k :) I am so thankful for minyoongiish who proofread this entire piece <3 Hope you enjoy~


If you had the ability to turn back time, you wouldn’t even hesitate to use it in this moment.

“Y/N?” The voice on the other end of the telephone asks. “Something the matter?”

“Oh no,” you mumble. “Fuck.” With one finger, you frantically tap the screen, desperately clinging to the hope that this is still in your hands, that you can still turns this around for the better.

Jimin’s voice sounds both curious and irritated at the same time when he speaks again. “What did you do this time? Did you put your keys in the freezer again?”

You can’t even be mad at his terribly timed comment that you’d normally be very offended about. All you do is curse softly, reading the simple message you sent like it’s a death wish.

You: Hey :) [sent 11:27am]

“Jimin!“ you exclaim, and are rewarded with a startled gasp.

"Yeesh, don’t scare me like that!” He lets out a sigh. “Stop acting all mysterious and just tell me what’s going on.”

You tap the screen again, despite knowing that it won’t help now if it didn’t help last time. A nervous gasp leaves your mouth as you turn your attention to the call. “How the fuck do I delete a message?”

Keep reading

the thing is, “the boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater” is a lie. isak’s been holding his breath, holding himself in, for years. to protect himself, maybe, to make sure he wouldn’t step out of bounds and have everyone start watching him like they know who he is. like, that’s the gay boy, the boy who can’t get it up for girls—he’s a little bit sassy, isn’t he? isak’s had practice at stopping himself before he lets his lungs fill with air, drink in life the way seventeen-year-old boys are meant to. he’s used to waiting on the sidelines.

and then there’s even, kissing him like he’s a treasure—the best kind, the kind you never expect to find but maybe that’s what makes it shine brighter than the others. and then there’s even, cradling his face like he’s worth all the patience and longing the world. and then there’s even, pulling him from beneath the surface with the strength isak doesn’t have, not yet, but maybe he will some day.

for so long, isak has kept himself hidden underwater that he never stopped to consider that breathing for the first time could ever feel this effortless.

anonymous asked:

May I ask you something that's not so much in Mor's favor? Don't you think that she should have told Az that she doesn't want him that way? She didn't need t come out to him in order to do that. Another reason to add how this whole plot was done horribly. It made her seem.. Not a great friend. She also said that she likes things the way they are to Feyre, she doesn't want to change things, it's comfortable for her (Az, her, Cass thing). I just.. Wish that all of this is different completely.

Right *rubs temples* we have finally reached a point I have been struggling with with this whole Mor…fiasco which is the tension between my desire to drag sjm through the mud for the way this was written…but also my intense desire to protect Mor’s choices as a queer character having agency with her own identity. This ask is going to be dedicated entirely to the latter (okay maybe not ENTIRELY but when I’m talking about  how Mor acted I’m going to do it in such a way that’s just ‘I wish all of this hasn’t happened how it did but it has and I’m working with what I’ve got here’) Clunky disclaimer out the way, let’s pick this apart… 

Right, first off,I would like to point out that it’s canon that Mor did actually try to talk to Azriel about this after he found her in the Autumn Court. However he wasn’t really listening and was doing some babble-confessing of his own at the time and she panicked. She was seventeen years old and the boy who just saved her life, who she knew she couldn’t be with, tried to tell  her that he loved her and she had no idea what to do so she panicked. After that it’s not really surprising she struggled with trying to explain things to him. 

Then  I think it’s important to remember a lot of things about the dynamic between Mor, Cass, Rhys and Az early on in the series when she knew Az and might have told him. So she’s only known Cassian and Azriel for two weeks when the whole Incident happens. The situation Mor is in is a  hell of a lot more complicated than ‘I slept with this one dude and this other dude loves me but I’m queer I’m not sure how to tell him’ (which is complicated enough in itself) 

Mor owes her life to all three of them at this point. Azriel saved her from the Autumn Court. Cassian and Rhys got her out of the Court of Nightmares and then proceeded to keep her out. So not is she indebted to them for saving her she is also completely reliant on them for her freedom. At this point in the canon we’re dealing with an extremely vulnerable queer girl who has been brutalised beyond belief and has only just been able to get out of her abusive situation. If the relationship she has with Cass Az and Rhys deteriorates she has nowhere else to go but back to her emotionally abusive homophobic family. 

Factor into that that she’s recently had sex with Cassian, largely because of Az and his jealousy over the two of them, and then walked away from that and the fact that she knows Azriel is in love with her but that she can’t reciprocate…I’m not surprised she’s terrified of telling them the truth. She’s grown up being told people like her are selfish and awful and that they should be forced into marriage and breeding regardless of how they feel about it, she probably believes that’s how Az and Cassian definitely, since she’s only known them about 3 weeks, will react to her. And Rhys grew up with them, they’re his brothers, she’s probably petrified of telling them the truth about her and having them all reject and abandon her which leaves her with nowhere to go but back to her father. I don’t blame her for not telling them. 

Then the War happens and she’s away from them all for a while and falls in love with Andromache and she has to go through losing her (twice) completely alone because no-one knows and she can’t tell t hem. She says herself that there was no-one for a few decades and like..Those aren’t circumstances where I’d feel like adding a whole  heaping pile of angst on top when she still isn’t sure how the boys will react so she just bottles things up and hides them away again. 

And then…Things settle out a little bit. The dynamic between her and Cass and Az finds something like what we see now, the three of them all tied together and loving each other just in different ways. And then she has to start trying to accept herself (Andromache was her first female lover and after that fell apart Mor was alone for decades, it’s hard to talk to people about something you barely understand or accept yourself) 

She has to unlearn the vile homophobia that she grew up with, she has to coax herself into trying to be with a woman again after what happened before, she has to try and explore this part of herself without letting anyone know…That’s hard. And so she finds Velaris, she finds Rita’s and at last she has a little safe place, a place where she experiment and be herself and so she does.  But that’s a safe place, a place that’s just hers, a thing that’s just hers, that no-one has yet managed to take away from her or destroy, and she feels this desperate urge to keep it safe because it’s all that’s kept her from breaking at times, knowing that no-one has ever truly known her

All of this takes time. Mor is healing and I know she’s a strong, confident woman when we meet her in ACOMAF and she’s had while to process all of this but…Abuse and that sort of homophobia and the trauma she was subjected to on top of then losing the only person she’s ever truly loved…That takes a lot of healing, that takes a lot of time to slowly build up an identity and a self-worth and by the time that happens…She needs the people around her. She has a support system in place and she deeply loves all of them. 

If she suddenly reveals that she’s queer that’s going to mess up her relationship with everyone in the Circle (except, perhaps, Amren) But everything will change and she’s only just managed to find herself and a place where she belongs and she has NEVER had that before. Cassian and Azriel both had difficult childhoods but they also both had Rhys and Rhys’ mother. Mor has not had a single positive, mutual, respectful relationship before Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Amren. That is so fucking important for her recovery and her stability and I cannot find it in myself to shame her or hate her for wanting to keep that whole. 

Not to mention the fact that she knows this will hurt Azriel. And she loves him. I don’t care what bullshit that coming out scene spouts about her not being able to love him ‘the way he deserves’ because of her sexuality (which I have issues with) because she loves this man in a very deep, unconditional way and this will hurt him and she can’t bear that. 

So there are a lot of pressures surrounding her keeping her sexuality hidden. She’s petrified of her family, of the homophobia she grew up surrounded by and she wants to keep this one tiny piece of herself hidden from them, so they never truly know her and therefore can’t own or break her. She’s petrified of losing the Circle, who she owes her life, freedom, power and stability to, they’re her support system and the only truly positive relationships she’s ever known. of course she’s terrified of losing that? And she’s scared of hurting Azriel and wrecking her relationship with someone that she truly and genuinely loves, even if she doesn’t want to be with him romantically. 

Also I think, when you mention that she didn’t have to come out to explain things to Azriel I think….In this case it’s complicated by them? She’s already walked away from him once while he was trying to tell her that he loved her…If she just goes to him and tells him that she can never ever be with him without the context of her sexuality…That’s going to ruin him? And she knows that. She knows how he sees himself and she’s probably terrified of offering up that rejection because the Circle is Az’s safe space and support network too and she loves him. She cannot just say ‘I don’t want you, I never will’ because then it will just…sound like he’s not good enough for her and he never will be? It’s going to sound like a ‘him’ problem than it just being the way that she is and she knows that would shatter him. (You can argue all you like that this is an Azriel problem and it’s not on her to fix or attend to his insecurities, and it’s not, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her to just shatter him like that? This is the reality of their situation) 

Also, on the subject of her not wanting to change it…I want to make it clear that I don’t think this is actively good for her. Like, I’m sorry, but if you think that Azriel, a straight man, is suffering more for Mor not feeling like she’s able to come out, feeling ‘petrified’ of facing him with this, than she is…I don’t know what to say to you. 

Being closeted is not fun. It’s not a little ‘straight passing’ card that you get to wave around so you can blend in with the normal people and not get noticed, it’s hard. It’s painful. It’s frightening. It’s constantly having to censor yourself whenever you’re talking to people, constantly worrying if they’ve figured it out even though you’re not ready, this constant paranoia and this guilt that builds up and the frustration and the hurt at not being able to be yourself. 

This situation is harming more exponentially more than it is Az and when she says that she doesn’t want it to change that’s not her being selfish. at all. 

(Especially when, as Mor told us herself in ACOMAF, she could peel her clothes off in front of Azriel and he wouldn’t move. He isn’t ready for this relationship anyway. He could have gone to her as well at any point in these 500 years and approached her about this and he hasn’t. Mor is not the only one maintaining this stasis between them and telling herself it’s ‘good enough’ this thing is mutual. 

Azriel isn’t technically losing out on anything by this because he hasn’t tried to make a move or talk to her about it and isn’t ready for the relationship himself? Maybe he could have moved on if she’d given him a concrete no but like…After five hundred years…He could have damn well just decided to move on for himself, like I’m sorry. A man should not need a flat out rejection from a woman (which, you could argue that he’d gotten when she walked away from him when he told her he loved her) to move on with his life, okay. 

He could have made that choice for himself she is not stopping him making that choice and she is not ‘stringing him along’ either, she isn’t hinting that oh maybe some day this might happen, not today but maybe tomorrow, she’s avoiding the subject and she has Cassian buffer them ffs to try and protect her from this. That’s not stringing him along, like, sorry) 

“Whenever Azriel makes his feelings clear, like he did with Eris … It’s stupid, I know. It’s so stupid and cruel that I do this, but … I slept with Helion just to remind Azriel … Gods, I can’t even say it. It sounds even worse saying it.”

“To remind him that you’re not interested.”

“I should tell him. I need to tell him. Mother above, after last night, I should. But …” She twisted her mass of golden hair over a shoulder. “It’s gone on for so long. So long. I’m petrified to face him—to tell him he’s spent five hundred years pining for someone and something that won’t ever exist. The potential fallout … I like things the way they are. Even if I can’t … can’t really be me, I … things are good enough.

Right, regardless of how you personally view Mor’s sexuality (bi/gay/queer/whatever you wish) the fact of the matter is that, in canon, Feyre states THREE TIMES that Mor did not enjoy sleeping with Helion and that she got no pleasure out of it. She’s described as ‘pale and vacant’ the next day and during the coming out scene Feyre actually thinks of her as looking ‘tortured’ okay, she is not enjoying this. The fact of the matter is, Mor is repeatedly having sex with men…For Az. To keep him at a distance. This is…Like I’m sorry but if you can’t see how fucked up that is (for HER) I don’t know what to say to you. She’s repeatedly putting herself in sexual situations she may or may not want that she does not seem to enjoy…For Azriel. 

She is suffering here, okay. She is closeted, that’s painful, that’s hard in itself but she also has this to deal with. Azriel’s affection has kept her closeted (in part) all these years and she is PETRIFIED of facing him with this?? How can this possibly be purely selfish on her part? How is she the only one getting flack for doing what she needs to do to keep herself safe

Especially when it’s hurting her like? ‘Good enough’ it’s just..It’s like Lucien’s situation in the Spring Court. That was ‘good enough’ for him, yes he was being abused  horrendously, no he didn’t have any real agency or power over himself or freedom or love or respect but it wasn’t the abusive shithole he was trapped in all those years so it was ‘good enough’. 

That’s what this good enough is, okay. She cannot be herself. She cannot openly love who she wants to. She has to suffer heartache and grief alone and isolated because she can’t tell anyone how she feels. She is ‘petrified’ of facing Azriel. She is closeted and that hurts. She is also GUILTY AS FUCK. She’s doing all of this, hiding herself, hurting herself, sleeping with people she doesn’t get any pleasure out of, and has been doing this for five  hundred years and she still feels horrifically guilty about this. She’s said in that coming out scene too that she wants to be able to love Azriel the way he deserves but she can’t. She’s tried to change herself and has hidden herself and hurt herself all for this relationship that she doesn’t want, that makes her uncomfortable? 

She likes things the way that they are  because these are the first people who accepted even a part of her. They love her and they respect her and they treat her with dignity and gave her basic fucking needs from a relationship and that is ‘good enough’ for her. Because she grew up with emotionally and physically abusive homophobic parents who accepted no part of her, who treated her like an animal, or worse, and then she found this…She found this love and respect and of course she doesn’t want to change it. Of course she doesn’t want to lose it. Of course she’s terrified of telling them and seeing that same hatred that lived in her parents’ eyes. Even if she knows it’s irrational that doesn’t matter. She’s a terrified queer abuse victim and she is suffering, she cannot be herself, but that’s good enough because what choice does she have, really? 

Mor is a closeted, scared, vulnerable, abuse survivor who is petrified of losing the only safe space that she’s ever had just because of who she is. She is suffering 100 times more from this situation than Azriel or anyone else in the Circle. I will not sit here and call a queer character selfish or a bad friend or any of it for doing what she feels she has to to protect herself. Especially not when most of the things that she’s doing are more damaging for her than they are for anyone else. I love Azriel, I relate to his character a lot, but I’m not going to sit here and prop up this ‘oh no poor boy’ while Mor gets thrown under the bus because she is afraid. 

Her identity is her own and this choice, revealing this part of herself to who she chooses, is one of the only pieces of ultimate agency that she has ever had. I won’t say she was wrong to keep it hidden, keep it safe, if that made her feel okay. Mor’s situation is not ‘good enough’, Mor’s situation is deplorable and painful and I refuse to call her selfish for maintaining something like this because she is absolutely terrified of the alternative. 

Queer people have the right to be in the closet for as long as they need to be in order to feel safe. It is not for anyone else (especially not straight characters a la Feyre) to tell them when they should come out. They are not ‘liars’ for being closeted. They should not feel guilty for being closeted and keeping themselves safe. That’s a disgusting way of looking at things and it’s an incredibly damaging mentality to have. 

‘Out and proud’ is great, okay, but it’s not possible for everyone. A queer person’s safety comes first and if they feel that they need to keep their sexuality hidden in order to do so that is their choice. And it is not up to anyone, especially those who have no way of understanding what this feels like, to judge them or shame them or guilt-trip for that. It’s not selfish to want to protect yourself and not risk ruining the relationships you have with those around you for the sake of telling them something they do not have a right to know unless you choose it. 

In the end I will chose validating and defending a queer person’s decision to keep their identity hidden for their own personal reasons and safety over the feelings of anyone who feels like they might have been entitled to know this every. Single. Fucking. Time. 

8

Since I was born, I’ve always been the one with the favorite. I’ve had a favorite doll that I always bring with me, a favorite cousin that I shower with gifts and kisses, a favorite candy that make my teeth rot, and now I have 7 favorite boys that I love so dearly. Probably someday, I’d move on and leave this fan girl life. Maybe I’d find someone that’ll be the center of my universe as you boys are to me right now. But for now, I just want to thank you for everything that you’ve done for me and for everyone. 

To Kim Namjoon, thank you for being the pillar that we all needed. With the eloquent speeches that your members wanted to express but didn’t know how and the expressive lyrics that have not only touched but also comforted peoples’ (fans or not) hearts, you’ve showed us how the right words could save and inspire another person’s life. 

To Kim Seokjin, thank you for bringing laughter and joy to everyone with your old man jokes and your ridiculous confidence. You’ve made us realize that it is always more gratifying to hear other people’s laughter mingling with our own even with the little things we say and do. 

To Min Yoongi, thank you for expressing yourself in the music that you make and the actions that you show. You’ve taught us that even through the most vulnerable of words expressed, one could still be strong and resilient yet even without the presence of words, love can still be felt. 

To Jung Hoseok, thank you for lifting everyone’s mood up every single time. You’ve made us believe that even when we think the world is always against us, there’s always that light at the end of the tunnel and all we needed is a little spark of hope to keep moving forward. 

To Park Jimin, thank you for letting your happiness shine through to your laughter and smiles. You’ve showed us that no matter how sad we’re feeling, a little act of kindness and compassion can be shown through just a little crack of a smile.

To Kim Taehyung, thank you for being and thinking completely out of the box. You’ve showed us the importance of embracing our true selves by being unique and different. and that no mater what anyone says, at the end of the day, how we accept ourselves is what really matters most. 

To Jeon Jungkook, thank you for showing us your will and determination in everything that you do. You’ve inspired us to be the best version of ourselves and made us realize that we can reach our dreams with the right amount of effort and passion for it.

To Bangtan, thank you for the beautiful songs that touch our hearts. the words you’ve written and the lyrics you’ve sung mean more to us not only because they mean a lot to you, but also because we know those words and melodies were made with the thought of us. 

Thank you for showing us your beautiful camaraderie and friendship right from the start.  You’ve taught us that platonic love is as important as every other love there is and that it should never be taken for granted because during times when we feel alone in the dark, only the people who’ve accepted who you are as a person are also the only people who’d hold your hand and never let you walk alone to make you feel that you are never alone in this cold, cold world.

Lastly, thank you for loving us every way you know how. each of you goes out of your way just to let us know that we’re always in your mind, never making us feel that we’re only on the outside looking in. with every tweet, every vlive, and even in speech acceptance stages, you’ve made us feel as if we’re all standing right there beside you, holding your hand and i think that’s what we all love the most about you. I honestly don’t know the right words to say because i have so much feelings that even hundreds of thousands of words could not be enough to express whatever it is i’m feeling right now. All I can say is that I love you guys. So, so much. And that I’m proud of whatever each of you have become in those 4 years we’ve spent with you. 

Happy 4th Anniversary to the beautiful boys who never fail to inspire me, to the playful dorks who never fail to make me laugh, to the gorgeous men who never fail to make my heart hurt just by looking at them, and to the lovable kids who didn’t fail to make me love them with all my heart. 

I love you, 방탄소년단! Let’s be together for a long time! Keep surprising people and let’s show the world why you deserve the world and more.  #4yearswithBTS

#Songbird

Molly Hooper can’t sing.

Sherlock Holmes is an excellent musician with near-perfect pitch and he is therefore very aware that Molly Elizabeth Alison Hooper. Cannot. Sing.

She can’t. She simply hasn’t the capacity.

If a single note were to find its way inside Molly’s head it would die from loneliness and neglect, post haste, probably taking some much-needed brain cells with it-

Molly Hooper is no songbird and she knows it.

Keep reading

The first words Laila Dermott ever spoke to Sara Alvarez were, “Who, me?”

The Trojans had been stuck in an airport waiting for a delayed connection that would take them to their first away game of the season. Laila, who had just started USC and hadn’t felt the need to make friends yet, was sitting alone on one of the hard airport chairs reading a book on her phone. Sara was three seats away in a small group of sophomores, who’d been tossing questions back and forth for the past half hour.

And then they were all looking at her.

“What,” Sara had said, “you don’t think you’re the hottest person in this room?”

Shock flittered across Laila’s face before she could clamp down on it; her fingers twitched at the edges of her phone. Her eyes flickered across Sara’s sharp smile, her loose tanktop, her bright sneakers, her smooth shoulders, back to her tanktop, before they snagged on the bright challenge in Sara’s gaze.

She hadn’t become the best goalkeeper in California by backing down from a challenge. Laila had held Sara’s gaze for a full ten seconds before giving her a deliberate once-over and responding, slow as molasses, “No.”

One of the boys had whooped, and Sara had grinned, and that was that.


Now, Laila wishes she’d said something different.

“Imagine it, though,” she says, her head in Sara’s lap. One of Sara’s hands is tangled in her hair and the other is curled around her chest, where Laila can see the black ink of the who, me? scrawled across her brown skin. “You get in my way as I’m stopping a goal, I hit you in the gut with my racquet, and you go down shouting, ‘Fuck you, you beautiful asshole.’”

“I don’t know how you can be so dramatic for someone who prides herself in being a brick wall,” Sara says.

Sara does know. They’ve been together three years; Sara knows everything about her. Laila never feels so known as when she’s with Sara.

It all works out; there’s no one she’d rather be known by.

“Stop that, you sap,” Sara says, wrenching her hand out of Laila’s grasp so she can smother the expression on Laila’s face.

Laila takes the cue to stop introspecting and asks, “How would you have had us meet, then?”

At first the only response she gets is a thunk as Sara’s head falls against the headboard. They spend a few minutes in silence, both tracing over the cracks in the ceiling.

“We’d be six,” Sara finally says. Softly, like the way she first officially asked Laila out all those years ago. “I’d tell you you were the prettiest girl I’d ever met, and you’d look at me like I was an idiot and tell me I must never have looked in a mirror, then.”

Laila snorts, but she’s thinking about whispered secrets and the ghosts of bruises and the quiet midnight when Sara admitted that the worst part of what happened to her was not being able to talk to anyone about it. She leans into Sara’s palm and presses her lips against the skin, and she knows Sara gets it by the way she exhales softly and cups Laila’s cheek.

Sara’s never so known as when she’s with Laila, either.

“I think it’s okay like this, though,” Sara says after another long silence. “You always seem to think I’m only with you for your exy skills. This way I can remind you how beautiful you are every day.”

“Now who’s the sap, you sap?” Laila retorts, but she still curls up tighter in Sara’s lap.

She falls asleep to the soothing warmth of Sara’s hand in her hair and the feel of her soulmate’s words against her cheek.