it's also on ao3


Loki & Verity.

Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of friendship.

this is my first entry for @shippingwithstiles‘s whole week of Stiles-centric fics!! starting off with some Sterek to ease myself into it (promise i’ve got another ship or two coming soon)

April 1st prompt: Fool For Love



(also on AO3)

Stiles waited until the bell rang for lunch before he made his move. He had determined that to be the optimal time, the moment of maximum exposure and emphasis. Everybody would be flooding out of their classrooms and moving toward the cafeteria in one giant horde, and Lydia would be the last one out of her AP Calculus class like she always was because she stayed back to argue with the teacher.

Stiles had been preparing for this for weeks, building himself up to it and memorizing the pièce de résistance. He glanced over his reference sheet one more time just as the bell rang, mouthing the words to himself before folding it up and stuffing it in his pocket. He might’ve been sweaty with nerves, but unless this went far, far better than he was expecting, Lydia wasn’t likely to be close enough to tell so that was fine. Besides, he was allowed to be nervous; he was taking the final leap.

If this didn’t win him Lydia’s favor, nothing ever would.

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“Fortunate Son” from Ao3 by @anna-droid
didn’t draw this from the actual fic but i enjoyed reading it

So I got this shitty review for Melodies Unheard, and while I’m not Deaf or HoH, I’m still offended.

Apparently, Deaf dancers and skaters would never be able to perform better than their Hearing counterparts because not being able to hear means they can’t show the emotions needed in their performances. Meaning a Hearing person would obviously skate better and it’s “impossible” for Yuuri to have beaten anyone as a Deaf skater.

about a quarter to nine, 1/3

or, the one where Wylan is struggling to pay his rent and plays music on the streets, Jesper dances and has no restraint and may or may not dance along to a cute street musician, and everyone is embarrassed at what these dorks get up to. {ao3}

It was February, another snowstorm had just hit, Wylan Hendriks was behind on his rent again, and apparently no one on this street had ever learned the values of tipping.

For all intents and purposes, the day should have gone well. He’d set up near a museum that was usually filled with tourists, but today it was curiously empty. Wylan had also started off with playing the violin, which usually worked in more “cultured” areas, but there was hardly anyone around to even hear him. The most attention he’d gotten was a few vaguely dirty looks and a disapproving glance from a police officer. However, the worst part of the day was the man who had walked up when Wylan pulled out his guitar and started singing, seemingly enjoying his performance… and then walked away.

All in all, he made a whopping three dollars.

Cutting ties with your rich father is, unsurprisingly, costly.

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Homestuck fic gothic

@curlicuecal I did the thing

There has recently been an influx in Dave crackships. Davefef. DavePM. DaveDaveSerenity.  DaveDaveGamzeeDave. Daves upon Daves upon Daves. You go through the entire archive. The character tags repeatedly list Dave and only Dave. You reread the actual comic. The first page begins with “A coolkid stands in his room.” You hate time travel.

You read a fic instead of sleeping. Your mind grows weary, and the shadows in your room seem to grow. The words melt down the screen, bubbling and churning as something underneath stirs. A presence looms over you and grasps at your mind. You blink, and find yourself in the middle of a Squiddles intermission chapter. You stop reading.

You don’t get why there are so many JohnDave fics. The filter says there are more than 4000 results. Why is it so popular? You refresh the page, hoping for a new fic containing your rarepair. There are 5000 result for JohnDave now. You refresh the page. 7000. 10000. 15000. Please. You just want one. One rarepair fic. You refresh the page.

One writer has decided to give the Trolls literal snakes in place of their tentabulges, in a horrific combination of troll and cherub reproductive biology. Other fics soon follow suit. Nobody finds anything wrong with this.

Scourge Sisters and Equius. Arasol and Equius. Dirkjake and Equius. He looks on in silent judgment as pairings kiss and cuddle and fuck. Why is he there. Where is he coming from. Nobody seems able to answer your questions.

Someone asks you about the dead lesbians trope. You don’t understand. What dead lesbians? Rosemary is the strongest pairing you have ever shipped. They crush all their enemies with ease and have gratuitous makeouts afterwards. “Please help,” the authors beg. “They’ve become too powerful. We can’t control them.” You fail to see what the problem is.

You hear a noise outside your room at 3 in the morning. You open the door. Andrew Hussie is sobbing on the hallway floor, surrounded by miniature figurines of horses. You close the door.

Complicated Little Emotions- Part 1

Part 2 should be posted in the next couple of days. That’s where the direct sherlolly interactions will begin. Thanks for bearing with me, readers. ;))

The door to her flat shut, not even hard, but it still made Molly wince in pain. She stood there for a few moments, frozen with her arms crossed tightly over her middle as she felt heat pool in her face and pressure build throat. She could hardly breathe at first, and when her body finally insisted on air, the process became an agonizing combination of respiration and sobbing.

With her vision now horribly blurred, Molly marched down the hallway and into her bedroom. The force of her steps set Toby on alert and he jetted from the bed to hide underneath the armchair by her window. Which was fortunate for him, seeing as Molly was in no mood to be gentle with the bed linens.

She whipped the duvet and sheet from off the bed and tossed it on the floor, along with the throw blanket that hung on the footboard. She violently removed the pillow cases; all four regular ones and the two shams. Amongst sobs that were growing louder by the moment, she climbed onto the bed to tug the corners of the fitted sheets and mattress pad away from the mattress, sniffling as she finally balled them up and chucked them at the floor along with the rest of the items.

She collapsed then, atop her completely bare bed, curling up and weeping uncontrollably. How stupid she felt; utterly ridiculous and childish! Molly couldn’t even believe that she’d managed to convince herself that somehow things would be anything other than what they were this morning. How, in the moments that it took for her to make that decision the night before, did she conclude that things would somehow turn out well?

Molly lay there fifteen minutes later, spent from crying, staring blankly up at her ceiling. Toby felt it safe to join her and she absentmindedly scratched his fuzzy head and felt the soft rumbling of his purring against her side. It hurt so badly to lay there feeling like she did at that moment. The contrast to twelve short hours before was so very extreme. It really was too awful to dwell on. She decided that she really shouldn’t.

A few minutes later, Molly Hooper forced herself to get up, start the linens washing, get ready for work, and get on with her life.

Sherlock pulled up a chair and sat down across from his brother, both of their expressions weary, even three weeks after their lives completely changed. Mycroft dumped a file on the desk in front of Sherlock and smiled tightly.

“All loose ends officially tied then?” Sherlock questioned softly as he picked up the file.

“Yes, I should say so. Even Mummy and Daddy seem relatively at ease.” Mycroft sighed. “Largely thanks to you.”

The two brothers exchanged a look for a moment, both fully aware of the part that each of them had played, good and bad, and the way their lives would never be the same.

Mycroft drew a deep breath. “Oh and the search was done, as you requested. During the work day of course, so she was completely unaware.”

Sherlock’s leaned forward in interest and he set the file down again. “And?”

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Sterek AU — Cowboy!Derek  [ 1 / 3 ]
↳ in which Derek works at Stilinski’s ranch the summer Stiles returns from school

James Newton Howard - The Gravel Road

( this only happened because of this commission I made for literaryoblivion that made my bestie Ty‘s cowboy fetish resurface so I wrote him 5k whoops <3 )

Derek knows, the moment he enters the stables, what’s waiting for him there. Or rather: who.

He’s barely stepped in far enough to be out of sight from the house, where the ranch owner’s wife is still sipping her afternoon tea on the front porch, when a pair of hands grabs him by his belt loops and pull him into a shadowed corner. The reins that’s been slung over his shoulder are dropped to the floor with a dull thud against the concrete. Derek grunts a little when his back hits the wall, but there’s already a smile growing at the corner of his mouth as his gaze lands on his capturer.

Stiles; son of the man who hired Derek to work at his ranch. His beautiful face is lit up by that young and mischievous spark in his brown eyes, accompanied by the dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he takes one step back, never letting go of Derek’s belt.

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10. Pink // Nurseydex

« {Part 10 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: it snowed on my college campus a few days ago, so i had to write something snowball fight-related. enjoy!

The moment he felt the snowball connect with the back of his neck, Dex knew—it was on.

He turned around and sure enough, there was Nursey, standing on the Haus lawn, wearing nothing more substantial than a multi-colored striped Patagonia and holding an armful of pre-packed snowballs. “Nurse!” Dex called out. “You are so dead!

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” Nursey said, readying another snowball. “You’re totally about to hashtag-wreck me.”

Nursey didn’t get a chance to throw the snowball he was holding. Dex set his backpack down on the sidewalk in front of the house, bent down to scoop up a snowball, and threw it at Nursey’s hand. “You’re going down, Nursey,” he grinned.

Dex was raised in a household of five kids in the middle of Portland, Maine. Knowing how to participate in a snowball fight was less of a talent and more of a survival skill. If you didn’t know how to pack a snowball in under a second and a half flat, there was no way you were going to be able to defend yourself when your older sisters decide to ambush you on your way home from school. Dex was a snowball fight professional. Nursey wouldn’t even see what was coming to him.

With practiced hands, Dex scooped up two more snowballs and threw them with deathly accuracy, aiming straight for Nursey’s face. One of them hit Nursey’s chest, but the other hit its mark perfectly. Was it playing fair? No. But was it satisfying? Hell yes.

“Ow! Shit! That was savage cold, man,” Nursey said, wiping snow out of his eyes. “You aren’t messing around, are you?”

“Nope,” Dex said. “You gonna fight back or what?”

“Hell yeah, I’m fighting back.” Nursey said. “Come at me, bro.”

And so he did.

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anonymous asked:

uh dude if you could hit us up with some boyf riends au where they r cute and fluffy and meet the tree bros please and thank u

fuck yeah bro, au where the treebros live in new jersey. also its relatively long so the rest is under the cut

AO3 Link

Jeremy closed the door of Michael’s 1999 PT Cruiser, “Hey.”

He smiled as Michael turned the key, leaning over the stick shift to give him a peck on the cheek. “Where are we going?”

Michael grinned, “I found this awesome spot, you’ll see.”

Jeremy smiled over at him, turning on the stereo. Catch A Fire, Michael’s favorite Bob Marley album, was in, and they listened quietly together as Michael backed out of the school parking lot.

“I’m excited for you to see it.” Michael admitted as they passed by the McDonald’s, heading out of town. “Brooke brought Cloe there once for a date and she says it was beautiful.”

Jeremy smiled, after all of the events of last year, he was glad to be able to be…Happy. Yeah. Jeremy realized that he was happy. Happier than he had been in a long time. He reached over for Michael’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they continued down the road. They drove through a suburb, joking about the pastel houses and white picket fences, but Jeremy thought quietly to himself that he might want that someday. With Michael. Maybe.

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What does this mean?

Hi! So I’ve never really shared a lot of my writing but I wrote this for Des-Zimbits who wanted a Patater fic :) Hopefully you like it! Sorry if there are any mistakes in here, and this is my first fic soo yeah. Its also on Ao3 under the same title :)

Bitty had brought them pies after practice. It definitely was not in their meal plan, but nobody could deny Bitty’s pies and cute puppy face of happiness. Jack had an arm around his shoulder, and a little half smile directed at him. Alexei saw Jack and Bitty whispering quietly to each other while everyone had begun tucking into their slices of pie. Alexei could see that Jack was a little tense, but had relaxed when Bitty began rubbing circles on his arm. Jack took a deep breath, before turning to everyone and beginning to speak.

“I wanted to tell you guys, that Bitty and I are dating, and we hope that you can be as happy for us as we are with each other” Jack gave a timid smile at his team, who had all stopped eating and stared at the couple. A brief moment passed of silence, and then Alexei’s booming voice spoke up.

“Zimmboni! I always making mistake! Saying you date girl.” He gave Jack a playful glare, and Jack grinned back at him, grateful for Tater’s never failing cheer. Everyone had already began chirping them, telling them how cute they looked together, spitting pie everywhere with how excited they were.

“We are always gonna support you Jack, because we’re a team, and a team always has each other’s backs” Marty gave them a smile after he finished speaking, and a chorus of agreement came from the players. Alexei grinned happily, thinking of his own blond boyfriend who he loved with his whole heart. He suddenly coudn’t wait to get home and skype Kent later that day, to tell him about Jack and Bitty and how in love with each other they looked. After multiple more pieces of pie, and many more thanks and congratulations, everyone eventually left the rink and returned home.

It was four in the afternoon when Alexei finished his small list of errands, and he mentally did a check of Kenny’s schedule to see if he would be out of practice yet. He decided he would just text him, and determine whether or not he was out of practice based on his response. He shoved his apartment door open and placed the groceries on the kitchen counter, letting his hockey bag slump off his shoulder and onto his marble floors. He quickly put the food away and sat on the couch, promising himself he would put his hockey gear and sweaty jersey away after he skyped Kent. He texted his boyfriend, inquiring about his practice time, and kicked off his shoes, leaning back against the couch’s armrest, reaching for the tv remote and turning on animal planet. Half an hour later, Alexei is receiving a FaceTime from Kenny. He’s quickly accepting the call, trying to turn the tv off, sit up and turn his phone volume up all at the same time.  Kent’s beautiful face is filling his phone screen, and Alexei’s smile is splitting his face in half as his boyfriend greets him.

“Hey Baby! I just got back to the house. How was your practice today?” Kent’s caring nature towards Alexei just makes his smile grow in size. “You will never guessing what is happen today!” Alexei doesn’t wait for Kenny to respond before he’s talking again. “Zimmboni is dating cute baker Bittle! They are most adorable together. Love each other full of pails!” Kent has a confused expression on his face before he gets it and starts chuckling.

“Tater do you mean bucket loads?” Kent is still walking around his house while talking, his giggles echoing inside the large space. “Yes, yes!” Tater says back enthusiastically. “So I’m thinking.. Maybe is time for us too.” Alexei grows serious when he addresses Kent again. Kent has also lost his playful expression, and Tater watches as he sits down on his red colored couch. Him and Kent had gone shopping together for new furniture last year, Kent complaining that his cream colored couch had too many beer stains on it. “Alexei, are you sure? This is pretty big. I mean, I’m happy with the way things are now, but if you want to come out to the team, I’m there Xi.” Alexei sat there in thought for a few moments, thinking about it. Kenny and him had been together for a long time now (two years, 4 months, and 3 weeks, but it’s not like Alexei was counting) and he wanted to come out to the team. Maybe not publicly just yet, they still had time, but it would be nice if he could talk about Kent like he wanted to, to gush about how much Kent loved Kit that he dressed her up in little clothing around the holidays, or how Kent looked like a god when the morning light hit his cute sleepy face. Tell them that the only reason Kent went outside in the snow was so that Alexei could make him spicy hot cocoa, and how Kent had the cutest nose scrunch, secretly loved soap operas, and was very picky about his blankets. Kent says it’s how they feel against his skin. Alexei thinks about all that, and decides that yes, he to can tell the team how in love he is with his boyfriend.

“Kenny,” He says, smiling, “I’m wanting to tell team how much I love you.” Kent returns his grin and nods. “Okay Xi. We’ll tell them when I come out there next month, okay?” Alexei groans good naturedly, throwing his head back and making overly dramatic noises of distress. “But Kenny next month is too far! Team need to know about cute nose scrunch now!” Kent rolls his eyes but his face cracks into a smile.

“You silly, sappy, ridiculous russian! You better not tell them embarrassing things about me,” Kent gives him a playful glare and stern finger shake, “You can wait until next month!” Alexei lets out a laugh, and Kent joins him with his cute little giggles. They talk for another hour before saying goodbye with promises of more calls the next day, and blowing kisses to each other for another ten minutes before they actually end the video call.

A month later, Alexei and Kent show up to Morning skate together.

sooo remember when the first chapter of the victuuri devil wears prada au was supposed to be up 12 hours ago but it wasn’t because i have this condition called I’m Never Satisfied With My Drafts and I’m Endlessly Re-Writing? 

[slides u $20 so that u forget that]

[slides u chapter 1 so that maybe u’ll forgive me]

Listen, if I can log into after a million years to leave a signed “review” for a fic that’s ten years old, on the off-chance that it’ll make the author smile on a grey day, then YOU sure as hell can hit the kudos button, and/or write a comment that says “I enjoyed this story, thanks for posting it.” on AO3.

anonymous asked:

exr + "oh my god i wasn't supposed to send you that message FUCK"

Read it on AO3 (and drop a comment!)

Twenty dings. His phone had gone off twenty times, and that was twenty times too many. Enjolras grumbled, trying to ignore the incessant noise as he turned over in bed, attempting to put the ceaseless ringing from his head. He could turn the sound off, but that ran the risk of his alarm not going off. That couldn’t happen- it’d cause nothing but trouble; he’d be late to his internship, and then late for lunch with Feuilly, et cetera. Nothing but trouble. One the twentieth text, Enjolras sat up in bed with a heavy sigh. Honestly.

His eyes squinted at the bright light of his phone, the time blinking up at him. He had to be up in four hours. Enjolras unlocked it with a vigorous frown, pulling up his messages.


Grantaire: Ponine help hes driving me insane

Grantaire: he is so nanoying eponine

Grantaire: his annoying ass curls are going to KILL me

Grantaire: but i love it when he sometimes wears those glasse s? you know?

Grantaire: i think i cried a lil when he wore that sweate r vfest the other day

Grantaire: hes so annoying tho hes alwaus so DISTRACTED

Grantaire: his curls ponine

Grantaire: i want to tug

Grantaire: hes always studyin tho thats annoying too

Grantaire: ponine his eyes are so blue

Grantaire: he hates me

Grantaire: i love him so much epponine and he wont give me the time of day or the time of night

Grantaire: he wont even look at me but i wouldnt look at me either

Grantaire: hear ye hear ye: i am a piece o’ shit

Grantaire: i just want him so bad ponine but he is so too good for me

Grantaire: wait

Grantaire: oh my god

Grantaire: OH MY GOD

Grantaire: oh my gOD I wasn’t supposed to send yo u those messages fuck

Grantaire: Goodnight Apoolo

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They’re a few six-packs deep when it begins to become apparent that something is wrong with Dirk.

Many spectacular evenings have begun with a group of people deciding to have a few quiet drinks at home. This particular group happened to have just conducted a highly successful raid on a government facility, extracting around half a dozen Persons of Interest, including three leather-clad gentlemen and a young lady in need of a good scrub. The conquering heroes are now, for not necessarily related reasons, in hiding from the government in a room in a hotel in a city far from Seattle, but nice all the same.

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