no room for more plastic flowers

Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

“Expulsion?” Newt breathed the word like he was afraid and all you could do was nod meekly; eyes shining with unshed tears.

“The, the, the Headmaster gave me an hour to gather my things and, and, and Pro, pro, professor Dumbledore is supposed to take me home.” You sobbed; burying your face in your hands, missing the flash of agony and guilt that crossed your best friend’s face.

“Oh, (Y/n)…” he said and pulled you into a tight hug as you cried.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whimpered, “I don’t wanna go!”

Your parents greeted you with open arms and you nearly collapsed in relief.

“Oh sweetie,” your mother cooed and your father squeezed the two of you into a massive bear hug. Your professor shifted in the background and you turned to face him, sniffling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “thank you so much.” The smile he gave you was sad, but there was a glimmer of pride in his ice blue eyes.

“What happened to you was unjust,” he replied, “and I could not, in good faith, stand by and do nothing.”

“Still,” you curled your fists, “without you, I’d have lost my wand too.”

“True,” he agreed calmly, “though I admit that I can do very little else for you except for this.” With a flourish, he pulled out a folded bit of parchment and handed it to you. You took it without complaint, ripping it open and reading its contents greedily. Your mother smacked your shoulder lightly, appalled by your rude behavior.

You didn’t care, too busy drinking in the information that your favorite teacher had given you. Your father laughed and brought your mother in close as she fumed.

“You can take the girl out of Ravenclaw, but you can’t take the Ravenclaw out of the girl. Just like someone else I know.”

You ignored them in favor of meeting Dumbledore’s patient stare.

“Ukraine?” You asked incredulously, “you want me to go to Ukraine?”

“It may not sound glamorous, but it will get you out of the country and away from the public eye.” You didn’t need to be told twice.

“I’ll do it.”

Your mother spent the next month and a half trying to convince you to stay or at least go somewhere safe, like America.

You shot her down every time.

Finally, your day of departure arrived and both you and your parents stood outside; staring down at the portkey that would be taking you to your mission site. Your mother cried.

“Love, please,” she begged, “please, think this out. It’ll be cold and you’ll be the only woman there! I can’t, in good consciousness, let you go!”

“Mum,” you said softly; bringing her in for a hug. “I need this, don’t you understand? I can’t even go to the Leaky Cauldron without people recognizing me. At least this way I’ll be able to recover some semblance of my reputation.”     

She sniffed.

“Fine, if I can’t convince you, maybe he will.”

“He” turned out to be none other than Newt Scamander.

You blinked in shock, not believing what you were seeing.

“Newt?” You stepped forward; hand reaching out to touch his face before you stopped yourself. He nodded shyly, but refused to meet your eye.


“Wha, what are you doing here?” It was a valid question. Ever since your expulsion, you hadn’t heard a thing from the redhead.

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to search your face before drifting away again.

“Your mum called, said you were about to do something monumentally stupid and that she needed me to talk you out of it.”

You bit back a groan.

“Of course she would,” you muttered; pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, Newt, I’m so happy to see you, I really am, but my portkey is about to leave and I just, I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Deal with what?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice, but you were so caught up with your own problems at the time to notice.

“Deal with this!” You snapped; throwing your hands up in the air. “For the past month I’ve been treated like some sort of criminal for something I didn’t even do! And now, now that I have the chance to get away from the looks and, and, and the gossip, my own mother tries to blackmail me into staying!” Newt stiffened and a dark look crossed his face.

“No one asked you to take the fall.” He spat and you were thoroughly surprised at the bitterness behind his words. Despite it, you let out a humorless laugh.

“Yes, I did, because if I hadn’t, you would’ve.”

There was a brief moment of silence and you let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Newt,” you finally said, “I don’t want to argue and I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go.”  He immediately deflated and he looked so heartbroken that you almost wanted to stay. Almost.

“Will you write?” You bit your bottom lip and gave him a helpless shrug.

“I’ll try, but…” His moss green eyes sharpened at your hesitation and he stepped forward; dwarfing your small form.

“Merlin’s beard, your Mum was right. You are doing something monumentally stupid.”


He slumped forward; resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing?”

Merlin, you wanted to. You’d wanted to tell him since the beginning, but you knew better. The minute she asked, Newt would crumble like paper in the rain and you couldn’t risk it. Not now.

“No, I can’t.”

You could practically see him frown at that and his next words were muffled by your hair.

“I promise not to tell her.”

“That’s what you said when I told you about Eddie Redmayne. Next thing I know, half of Hogwarts was talking about how we did it in the Potion’s cupboard.” He went to retort, but your pocket watch chimed softly and you pulled away to check it.

“I’ve got less than a minute.” You said and he sighed softly.

“You’re still going to go?”

“I have to.”

You barked orders in Russian and the men scrambled to meet them as you drew Hayden’s attention towards you.

“Here love, here! That’s right, that’s right, keep your eyes on me. Ignore the silly men and their silly scrambling.”

The ironbelly roared and flapped his wings; puffs of smoke escaping from his nostrils as he snorted.

“I know, sweetie, I know, but you have to calm down. I promise, everything will be okay, okay? Now be a good boy for mummy and go hunt yourself some dinner. I’m feeling very particular to goat, what about you?”

He let out another roar before lifting off, wind snapping at your hair and clothes as he did so.

After a tense second or so, you relaxed and made an attempt to fix your ruffled appearance. Just as you finished fluffing up your hair, Aventin ran up to you, letter in hand. Absentmindedly, you ruffled the boy’s hair before dropping a sickle into his palm.

Making your way back to your tent, you flipped over the envelope and grinned when you saw Newt’s familiar scrawl. Breaking the seal, you skimmed over its content, the smile that had been on your face slowly sliding off as you did so.

Your legs stopped moving as you reread his final sentence.

Leta and I plan on marrying in the spring and I hope you’ll be back before hand.

He might as well have slapped you in the face.

After everything that girl had put him through, put you through, he wanted to marry her!?

Merlin’s beard, you’d gotten yourself expelled because of her!

Swearing loudly, you ripped up his letter and stomped back into your tent.

Half a bottle of vodka later and you were in the middle of scribing a rather nasty sounding letter to your (former) best friend when Dumbledore apparated in.

He took in your teared stained face and the death grip you had on the neck of your bottle before sighing and vanishing away both the alcohol and your poorly thought out letter.

“I see you received the news.”

You nodded and whimpered; sobbing into his chest as he drew you in for a hug.

“It hurts now, but I promise you, my dear, it lessens with time.”

You didn’t go to the wedding, not because you didn’t want to (you really hadn’t wanted to), but because you were recovering at St. Mungo’s after a nasty accident involving Hayden and a Ministry official.

(The man was still blubbering for the ironbelly’s death.)

Dumbledore sauntered into your hospital room with a bouquet and a sack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. You forced a small smile.

“Flowers from the wedding?”

He chuckled at that; transfiguring the hard plastic seat into something more cushy before sitting down.

“Alas, it was Madame Longbottom that caught it, not I.”

You nodded; sinking back into your pillow tiredly.

“I see.”

There was a stretch of silence and you watched with mild amusement as your former teacher picked through the sweets.

“He was quite disappointed when you didn’t show.” He finally said as he bit into something bright green with unnattractive yellow spots. His face gave away nothing as he chewed.

“Forgive me,” you said dryly, “but his wedding was the farthest thing from my mind as I kept an entire colony of dragons from eating my company.”

“I’d say you were lying, but now that I see you, I’m more inclined to believe your dragon story.”

Your head snapped up to see Newt leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes taking in everything as he stared at your bedridden form. Your heart sunk when you caught sight of the gold band on his hand.


“Merlin, (Y/n),” he muttered, “what were you thinking?”

“If I’m being honest, it was something along the lines of ‘holy Rowena, it’s hot as balls’ and ‘I think there went my left eyebrow’.”

“You know what I mean. What were you doing with dragons!?”

You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eye.

“I can’t tell you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the room.

“And why not?”


Because you’ll tell Leta, who’ll tell that sewing circle of hers, which may or may not doom the entirety of Britain.

As if reading your mind, (you wouldn’t be surprised if he could if you were being honest) Albus cleared his throat and took your hand in a fatherly manner.

“Ah yes, about that, my dear. The Ministry has decided that, in light of recent developments, to cancel the project.”

“What!? Why!?”

At the same time, Newt asked:

“What Ministry project? (Y/n), when did you start working for the Ministry?”

You ignored him, (e/c) eyes shining with frustration.

I swear, if that quivering pile of shite has done anything…

“Surely, my dear, you’ve noticed that you’re the only one Hayden and his brood respond to, yes?” Another jelly bean passed his lips. “Ever since you’ve been hospitalized no one’s managed to get into the sanctuary, let alone to the ironbellies.”


“So that’s it?” Your hands were gripping tightly at your hair and you drew your knees up so you could rest your elbows on them. “A year and a half of my life wasted and I’ve got nothing to show for it except for a set of unattractive scars.”

“Of course not. The tamers were quite impressed and wrote a glowing recommendation to the Minister. Due to their kindness,” here you made a mental note to send your former team something nice, “you now have an offer at a position in the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

…scratch that, you were going to murder them as soon as you were discharged.

Everything, LMM/Reader

Prompt: Prom night with your best friend is the perfect night for Lin to get something off his chest.

Words: 2,725

Author’s Note: Prom season is upon us (at least, for any high schoolers out there!) and this is inspired by that (and by my own prom a bit, although none of this happened to me and my group saw Civil War after)! Hope you enjoy this 2.7k fluff fest.

Warnings: Nothing? If there’s anything please tell me.

Askbox | Masterlist

“Good God, Lin.” You mutter as he strutted into the living room, coat tails flapping behind him.

Your parents laughed and clapped at his entrance, snapping as many pictures as they could at the event. It wasn’t the exact image you had had of your prom as a kid, but you certainly weren’t putting up a fight.

Watching your best friend strike a few poses in his rented tux, hair gelled halfway to hell, holding a delicate flower in a plastic container in his hand was so much more than what you had pictured.

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Hitched (8/11)

a Captain Swan AU fan fiction

Summary:  After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.

Rating: M or MA; some profanity and sex scenes.

Cover art: created by the absolutely fabulous @thesschesthair!!

Links: // ao3 // ch. 1 //  ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 5 // ch. 6 // ch. 7 // ch. 9 // ch. 10 // epilogue

(also @teamhook, @like-waves-on-the-beach, @lenfaz, @followbatb, @stardusted-nymph, @optomisticgirl, @xpumpkindumplingx​, and @spartanguard, thank you thank you thank you for reading and requesting tags!)

Note: This chapter was originally split up into two parts, and I was only going to post the first. But then I watched tonight’s episode of this @$%#ing show and i have such a major case of viewer’s blue balls that I figured it would be mean to do the same to my lovely readers. Please enjoy this monster chapter. Bless.



Don’t freeze out there, huh? Good advice, but hard to follow, Emma thought sourly, as they left the warm, comfortingly grease-scented air of the bar behind. It had already been cold outside when they arrived, but the temperature seemed to have dropped even further while they were inside, and a light snow was falling. She pulled her coat’s hood up with one hand, then returned it to Jones’ arm, keeping a firm grip with all ten fingers.

He wasn’t staggering anymore, although as they walked slowly across the parking lot, threading through cars and trucks, his steps were slightly uneven. Not that she was perfectly steady, herself; Emma could still feel the beer pounding through her veins, making her a little dizzy. Their breath formed clouds in the freezing air, and Emma longed to call a cab, even just for a fifteen-minute walk.

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A Long Time- Alex Nylander

Originally posted by intermissionpenguins

Ok so I hate myself please don’t come at me about how I made Willy. I love Willy, but he needed to be a jerk. You’ll see! Anyway… enjoy!!!!

Warning: mentions of cheating, cuss word singular lol

Anon Request: Could you do one where you’re dating William nylander but hes like and asshole and just playing with her and then his brother Alexander confesses to her that he’s been in love with her since forever?


              Well your night literally couldn’t get any worse.

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fic: klance week 2017

a hodgepodge of soulmate au tropes and written hastily in a day and it’s STILL late

One day, random shit from his soulmate starts appearing out of nowhere.

The first one is one of those OBEY snapbacks that Keith loathes with a passion, nestled in between his Physics textbook and an extra large bag of Combos in his backpack. At first, Keith is unsure if the gift from his soulmate is the snapback or the Combos, but he figures that Shiro isn’t really the snapback wearing type and so couldn’t have slipped it in his bag (or is he? Keith will have to investigate that one later). He fingers the hard bill of the cap just as the skin of his wrist underneath the leather cuff tingles. Definitely the cap, then. 

Curiosity sets in and Keith nearly takes the bracelet off. He wraps a hand tightly over it. His nose scrunches as he glares at the cap, then at the cuff. No fucking way is he going to break his vow and look at his mark. He thinks of his eight year old self, trying to block the sounds of his parents fighting downstairs: his father yelling, then pleading, and his mother callously throwing someone else’s name at him. Huffing, Keith grabs the snapback and thrusts it over to the startled stranger next to him before running out into the rain. 

A fucking hat won’t keep him dry, anyway. 

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What Hides In Plain Sight

A/N: So this is my first actually planned planned lol fic! I have no idea how long it’s going to be, or what the update schedule will be for now! 

Natsu Dragneel is just an ordinary 21 year old trying to get by on his craft’s business, keep his landlady off his ass, and grow his friendship with his new weird neighbor Lucy. Without revealing that he’s a witch. Or his cat can fly and talk. So maybe Natsu isn’t that normal. Things take a serious left turn for him when people from his past start showing up, and he and Lucy as well as some new -and old- friends travel across Fiore trying to find some answers. But the question is, will they be happy with what they find?

Wiccan!Natsu AU

Pairings: Nalu, Gruvia, Gajevy, Fairy Tail

Words: 2157

Rating: M

Part: Part One,  Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen,Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty One, Part Twenty Two, Part Twenty Three

Natsu Dragneel did not freak out. He did, however, from time to time, perchance, become acutely aware of how much of a shit disturbing cat he had, and said cat’s ability to somehow break into the apartment across the hall from him. The one that a new tenant had just recently moved into, that Natsu had not yet met. He didn’t really care about what other people thought about him - he didn’t exactly socialize- but he figured that his cat tearing up all of their furniture or getting into their fridge would be a truly horrible way to meet someone.

So had Natsu decided the only available option would be to break into their flat.

“Happy!” Natsu hissed, dropping down to his hands and knees to look beneath the large cream sofa in the living room. His cheek was pressed firmly against the soft carpet as he craned his neck to look into the darkness that separated the furniture and the floor, glaring when all he saw was two pens and a handful of change. A slight rustle from the kitchen caught his attention and Natsu jerked his head up, cracking it on the low wooden coffee table behind him. Natsu let out a low groan, and tenderly rubbed the now sore spot by the crown of his head. The fridge door was open and blocking his view, but Natsu knew what Happy was searching for. “Happy, you can’t just break into someone’s apartment and take their food.” Natsu chastised as he walked around the sofa and short bookshelf that rested against it’s back. When he finally got to the kitchen Natsu crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at the cat’s sad face. Looking over the contents of the fridge Natsu let out a small chuckle and relaxed his stance. “Of course she’s not going to have raw fish laying around buddy,” Natsu sighed at Happy’s watery eyes, bending down to scoop up the feline. “I know you smelt it earlier, but maybe she ate it,”. The cat shot him an aghast look before leaping from his arms and running down the hall, dashing into the girl’s bedroom.

Well, Natsu had assumed it was a girl from the vanilla scent the already permeated the air in the apartment. Not to mention the ten pairs of boots and heels he had seen in the front entrance. Really, why did someone need that many different things to wear on their feet? This entire apartment confused him if Natsu was honest. The furniture looked brand new and high end, plush cream upholstery and dark wooden accents on the matching reading chair to the sofa. A lush dark carpet designated the living room space, which also boasted an average sized flat screen, or at least what Natsu though would count as ‘average’ for someone who could afford a flat screen. The off-white walls that were standard with the apartment flowed nicely with the look of the open floor space, while in Natsu’s they were smudged and stood out from his mixed-matched furniture. A small sandalwood table by the window had a tiny flower pot -freshly planted- and two chairs, though Natsu guessed that one was more for show than another person. Overall the room looked like it had been ripped from one of those home design magazines, the glass and white plastic cabinets and stone countertops of the standard kitchen included. 

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seer-of-blood one DamKri fic! (Gift fic)

He was insufferable. Damara Megido know that and only that as she fumed silently, her rust colored claws digging into her palms as she paced back and forth in her hive. Or, rather, her memory of her hive. She didn’t allow herself to think of anything other than the fact that he was insufferable.
 “He” happened to be an obnoxious little prick by the name of Kankri. She hated him. Just, hated him. Not in the black way, not in a quadrant way, just, hate, like she’d hated Meenah, and like she hated Rufioh, and his little twerp. The cheating…
 She shook her head and continued to pace. A bit of blood was drawn, and dripped to the ground unnoticed. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. They were all dead, and that would never change. Not, ever. They would rot here unti-ding-dong.
 Damara turned, and squinted at the door. If it was Zahhak with one more translation device, she was going to scream and probably break it and his neck. She stalked over and flung open the door.
 Oh. Him. Kankri. Before she could open her mouth to tell him exactly where he could stick his whistle, he started speaking. For a second, she thought he was going to bring up her vulgar speech and how it must be triggering for Rufioh, and how it most certainly seemed to upset Horuss, and how she shouldn’t speak if she didn’t have something nice to say.
 “Ah, Damara, I thought I would find you here. It is your home, after all, and you do seem to retreat here in times of mental distress. It appears that I’ve triggered you, and for that I would like to offer my sincere apologies.
 “Now, moving forward, I would like to suggest that you find yourself a moirail. Ah, wait, that could’ve been seen as slightly triggering, considering that you have had trouble in the past with your quadrants. Rather, I would like to suggest that you find yourself someone who can calm you so you don’t have to retreat from conversations, as that might seem to others to be a form of cowerdance, which can be triggering for some of us, especially those of the Nitram blood line, and of course, the Amporas, who I believe would hate to be called any form of cowered or to have it implied that they might be a coward.
 “Oh, do pardon me, is the word ‘hate’ a trigger word for you, Damara? I could see how it would be, and I apologize profusely for using such a word, and will add it to the list of things that should not be mentioned around you. I will use dislike instead, unless you find that to be triggering as well, in which case I might have to find a word that implies strong negative feelings without using such words as dislike or hate or anything related to them.” Kankri began.
 As he continued, Damara stood in her doorway, one hand on the frame, tapping her finger on it, her anger draining quickly. She could understand him perfectly, and could make herself understood, if she wanted, but, she didn’t want. After maybe half an hour of listening to him drone on, she simply turned and walked back into the house, done with listening to him. Kankri followed her, continuing to talk. She went into her nutrition block and grabbed a tea pot. She half listened as she began to make tea, not even realizing that she was grabbing two cups.
 “-And of course would loathe to-Oh, wait, that is a word that is strongly related to hate, isn’t it? And, I probably should not use strong unless I want to summon a Zahhak, which would no doubt be triggering for you as well, considering your past.” Kankri said. “Do you mind if I sit? I’d hate to be rude.”
Damara turned and looked him up and down. He was a few inches shorter than her, and his bright red sweater muted the duller red that covered most of her home. She gnawed on her lip, then nodded, and he plopped down at the table she’d set up in the center of her kitchen, with two chairs. She finished making the tea as he continued, and then set the tray down. She poured them each a cup, and sat down and sipped on hers while she listened.
 Kankri was leaned part way across the table, his eyes half closed as he talked, on hand playing with his whistle and the other holding his cup. His legs were hooked around each other, and back under his chair.
 He droned on, and it was clear he’d lost his original intended subject for his visit here, assuming he’d had one in the first place. Occasionally, he asked Damara a question, and she replied with a suitably vulgar threat or offer in her own language. He’d simply nod, and carry on. She wondered if he could understand what she was saying, or if he simply didn’t care. She was betting on the second one.
 Damara didn’t know how long he talked, and it really didn’t matter, because time was hardly a thing anymore. She tried not to think too much about the implications that that had on her. Of course, if there was no time, and that meant she shouldn’t exist, then since Meenah represented life-In a way.-then she shouldn’t exist either. If gave her a sort of grim satisfaction to think about that.
 However, she was far more interested in the mutant blood drinking his third cup of tea and explaining how one went about avoiding the subject of breathing to someone who had been hanged. She found herself laughing at him, at his absurd notions. Not her cruel laughter, or her flirty giggle. Her full, happy laugh, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that, or that hard.
 Kankri looked irritated, and went on to lecture her about laughing at people who might be triggered by being made fun off. That only made her laugh harder, and she struggled through her English to point out that he, of all people, would probably be the one most likely to be triggered by being laughed at, so he should just come out and say that she was triggering him. He huffed in an offended manner, and made as if to stand and leave, but she poured him another cup of tea.
 “Sit. I be nice. Very nice. Drink tea.”
 “Damara, while I appreciate that you are giving me tea, I do have to admit that I’m not a great fan of it. I am sorry if you find that triggering, but I need to be honeswt with you. A cup of coffee would be much better right now then another cup of, frankly, weak tea. It is hardly deserving of the name.”
 “No. Good tea. Very good. You like. I like. Good tea.”
 “I disagree. This tea is atrocious. If I have to drink one more cup, I might-”
 “Very good tea. I make.”
 Kankri rolled his eyes.
 “I’m sure that you think so, but perhaps you should think of someone other than yourself.”
 “I be unlike you, then.”
 The silence was thick enough to taste, and Damara smirked. She got up, dumped the tea out, and went into the living room, swaying her hips just enough to grab his attention. Kankri stood up and followed, but it was more for the sake of carrying out the conversation then for the sake of watching those hips. She turned and placed the back of her legs against the couch. Kankri walked closer, close enough to smell the scent of tea, of some sort of flower perfume, of a hint of plastic, like when you open a new toy, and a slight musk, a heated smell, like that which would cause sweat, but not sweat specifically.
 He stilled and simply stared at her for a few moments. She was beautiful. High, sweeping cheek bones, a small nose, large eyes with makeup, sharp teeth behind full, red lips. A long neck, with a head held high in defiance of pain. A larger forehead, with hair that was swept back.
 Beautiful. He was suddenly very self-conscious. Was he handsome? Did he smell like the inside of a house, and an old sweater and ink and cinnamon and a hint of Porrim’s perfume? He hoped not. He couldn’t stand Porrim. Her mothering tendencies and blasted sweaters and…So on and so forth. He leaned in, just slightly, needing to be closer.
 She jumped and tumbled back onto the couch, and one of her legs kicked his out from under him and the next moment they were on the couch, his face pressed up against her stomach. There was a moment of silence, and he could feel his face heating. His torso was on her legs, which were-mercifully-closed. He placed his hands on the couch and pushed himself up, then looked down. She was biting her lower lip, and for a moment, he thought it was in anger, then he noticed that her eyes crinkled just slightly at the corners, and then she burst into laughter.
 He found himself laughing along, and she wrapped her arms around his thin waist, and tipped them over to their sides, then curled him to the curve of her stomach. She placed his back against her front, and squished him like a doll. She had just enough body fat to make it cozy and comforting, until the bony angles of Porrim.
 They sat like that for a few moments, just curled up on her couch, and Kankri opened his mouth to bring up a trigger warning about warmer bloods cuddling and how that could upset a cooler blood who’d never had the comfort of a low blood to cuddle, but she placed her plump lips to his ear, and murmured a “shh” and he closed his mouth.
 One of her hands found his whistle, and played with it as he lay there, curled in her warm arms. Every time he thought of something to say, he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth.
 Because this was nice. It was nice to be held, to not feel the over whelming pressure to say something, anything, to fill in that silence. He’d been told silence was awkward, and being awkward was not something he wanted to be.
 However, after a bit, he found that her touching him was beginning to upset him. He squirmed a little, not wanting to leave, but beginning to feel triggered by being touched. He finally sat up and jumped off the couch. Damara sat up and stared at him.
 “I do something wrong? Upset you?” She asked, looking confused and a bit hurt. He shook his head, but he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth. He just stared at her, trying to figure out what to say, but the words didn’t come, and even if they did, he doubted he could say anything.
 Her face softened, and she sat up and patted the couch. He walked over and sat on it, but shrugged away from her hand. She stood up, and left the room, and he felt awful, this pinching feeling in his gut. A few minutes, she came back with tea, and set it on the coffee table. She poured him a cup, and he cradled it in his hand. He sipped off it for a bit before finally finding the words.
 “My apologies, Damara, I seem to have developed a slight issue with my…” He looked at her, and she was just watched. She was a puzzle to him. He remembered how sweet she’d been, and how Meenah had completely destroyed that. She’d become bitter, and angry, but seeing her now made him realize that she was still that sweet girl, somewhere. “Nevermind. I’d hate to trigger someone with my rather bumbling speech. I’ll explain it later.”
 After a few minutes, he curled up next to her, and put his head on her lap. She combed her fingers through his hair and played with his whistle, humming softly and drinking her own cup of tea. He closed his eyes, and didn’t notice when she used her telekinesis to take his cup of tea out of his fingers. He didn’t notice when he slipped off, either.
 He was still insufferable, no doubt about it, but he was also funny, and warm, and kind, in his own way. Well, kind wasn’t the word. He seemed to want to do anything in his power to not offend people. Maybe it was because people stormed off and didn’t listen when he insulted them, so he used triggers to tag ways that he upset people so he could avoid it in the future? Or maybe it was something else. Damara knew that he knew that he’d upset her, and that he’d searched her out and attempted to make it better.  His voice was calming, if a bit annoying, and when he curled up against her like this, he was rather cute.
 She’d never seen him as someone who liked being touched, but she’d only really seen Cronus throw an arm across his shoulders and him glare, and Porrim hugging him against his will. For all that Damara said, she never touched without consent.
 She tugged on a strand of his hair. She had a lot to learn about him, and he had a lot to learn about her, but she had a feeling that they would both learn.

Stop The Clock.

My foot tapped impatiently as I sat in the large auditorium. For the past thirty minutes I had been relegated to constantly looking over my shoulder to search for the familiar sight of my husband Rafinha but per usual, he was nowhere to be found.

I tried to distract myself by talking with the other parents but that wasn’t much working. I guess I shouldn’t have felt alone in this sort of situation. Many of the other fathers were missing too.

Cata’s husband had traveled to Peru for work with some insurance firm. Nessa’s husband wasn’t free for another hour. Christian was the lone father in our group, a stay at home dad with a baby boy in his lap and his daughter backstage while his wife was busy working tirelessly in her office. Our other friend Tally was divorced and her ex-husband was seated on the other side of the auditorium with his new wife and baby girl.

Needless to say, she wasn’t in that great of a mood currently and who could blame her? I couldn’t even imagine having to see Rafinha walk in with another woman but I was sure if the day ever came, he was probably going to be late enough where I wouldn’t see him anyway.

He always found a way to be late and today was no different, no matter the fact our daughter Emilia was probably seconds away from crossing the stage. She had been excitedly talking about her ballet recital for the past week, locking herself in her room to practice her moves and make sure she remembered every little step.

To others it wasn’t all that serious. The kids were far too young to create a piece free of error but that didn’t mean much for Emilia. She was going to try her hardest to impress.

It was only too bad her dad was close to missing out on this perfection she was sure to display. “I can’t believe he’s this late,” I mumbled lowly as I leaned closer to Tally’s side where we sat.

“Did you text him?” She questioned and I quickly nodded. I had even sent him a few calls only to have them go unanswered.

“Yup. No answer.”

Our conversation didn’t continue much further as the lights dimmed and someone walked on stage to the microphone in the center to begin the event. I took one last look over my shoulder before finally turning to the front stage for good.

My anger easily subsided seeing the eager pounces of the children who came up on the stage. My eyes immediately fell on my own superstar, dressed in a bright blue tutu which she had insisted on picking out with Rafa. Each child was able to choose the color and design of their outfit for the recital and as soon as she found this out, Emilia dragged Rafinha to the store to get an outfit that was “his colors”. She looked madly adorable.

My eyes followed her closely and I even offered a small, encouraging wave though I was sure she probably couldn’t see me through the bright lights of the stage and the people seated in front of me. A grip on my arm and the sight from the corner of my eye of someone filling the seat next to me caused me to turn my attention from my daughter and to my husband who was offering me an apologetic smile.

That didn’t prevent a scowl of annoyance from curving my lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and kissed my cheek. In his hand was a small bouquet of roses which he placed down between his feet. “I didn’t mean to be late,” he continued to explain. “Things just ran behind.”

He adjusted the button-up he wore and rolled the sleeves up against his toned, tanned skin. Had I not been upset I would have complimented him on the dapper look he displayed tonight but I was so I remained tight-lipped, force to admire the white shirt and navy blue slacks in my own head.

I didn’t respond but simply turned forward in my seat and focused back on Emilia. She was quickly gliding across the stage, like an angel who could do no wrong. I was sure to be crying by the end of this based on how proud I felt.

But Rafa wasn’t yet willing to let me continue on ignoring him. With his eyes facing forward to Emilia on the stage, he leaned and whispered into my ear. “Are you not accepting my apology?” His hand sunk to my exposed thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, being particular about pushing the tops of his fingers into my skin gently when he did squeeze.

He was going to keep his hand there but I simply took it off of my thigh and placed it into his lap. “Yes.” That was all I said without even looking into his direction. He seemed defeated enough because he sunk in his chair like a child who had just faced punishment and focused his attention on the stage.

At the conclusion of the recital, everyone rose to their feet and applauded proudly. I could now feel a small tear escape from my eye as I watched Emilia take a thankful bow and trot off stage. With no direction needed, we all began to file out of our seats and head to greet our children. Even without me saying anything, Rafinha’s steps remained close behind me and his hand held onto my waist as he naturally did when we were maneuvering through crowds.

As soon as she saw us, Emilia quickly ran over and jumped into Rafinha’s awaiting arms. “How did I do? How did I do?!” Her smile was infectious as we both begin breaking into wide smiles of our own.

“You were absolutely perfect,” Rafa said as he placed a kiss to her cheek. “You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“You were a star,” I added and Emilia turned to give me a smile. Rafa held out the small plastic vase of roses much to his daughter’s delight. Flowers of any kind were her favorite but roses especially, particularly from Rafinha, always found a way to the top shelf of her room to reside for weeks.

“Thanks, Pai!”

“No problem, sweetheart. Now go grab your things so we can take you out for dinner and ice cream.” He bent down and placed her to the floor before she was quickly running off to grab her school items. Rafinha took this as a chance to talk with me more since he was unable to earlier.

“Are we going to spend the rest of the night acting awkward?”

“I don’t think this is awkward at all,” I shrugged. He knew that was a lie and he took his hands to my arms, pulling me closer as he ran his hands up and down my skin comfortably.

“I’ve missed you all day,” he said with a playful pout. “I don’t want to go any longer with you not talking to me.”

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Not how you normally do. I apologize for being late. I didn’t mean to and you know that. I’ll be here 15 minutes early next time. I promise.” He began to pepper my face with kisses from my cheek to my forehead to my lips to the corner of my lips, everywhere he could.

“You said that last time.”

He broke into a knowing smile. “And I’ll say it next time too. You married me knowing I couldn’t tell time. Don’t act so surprised,” he joked. That cute teethy grin unfortunately made me break into a small smile too as I couldn’t fight it away before he saw.

“Fiiiine,” I dragged out. “But you’re paying for dinner.”

“Deal. Tonight, you can have all the chocolate ice cream you want. It’s on me,” he winked. He pulled me closer and turned me around, his arms wrapped tightly around me and his chin resting on my shoulder. “I can’t believe how big she’s getting so quickly.”

Even in the distance, we could see our daughter holding a small conversation with one of her friends, clearly full of excitement.

“I know. We’re getting pretty old.”

Of Knights and Bandits (And Maybe Ninjas)

In response to all the sad Sai and Jump have put us through this past like WEEK, I actually managed to do fluffy stuff (which is also the name of a cotton candy brand. Be warned, this may be just as sweet!). So, lesson here: Break my heart enough, I’ll be filled with so much joy I’ll write all da happy.

So, @sai-shou and @the-final-jump this is for you guys! Thanks for entertaining the sadist in me 8D

P.S. Uh, lots of creative liberty with this one. Sorry?!

Rating: K

Summary: [Post-TLG, Canon Divergent (as of right now *hopeful winks*),Imagined Happy End Route] Amelia had thought by now she’d faced just about everything; but she was about to discover she hadn’t taken on her greatest challenge yet: Babysitting.

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Hit and Run Chapter 2

Welp. I know I’m very late in posting. I’m really sorry. I’m very slow at writing orz

Thanks to @gays-on-ice​ for letting me bounce ideas for this chapter off of you!

For those of you who haven’t read chapter 1…

AO3 (I’ll post this on AO3 tomorrow!)


This is unbeta’d by the way. Feel free to point out any mistakes you may find!


Chapter 2…

Victor slowly came into awareness, rising towards consciousness slowly, but surely.

“…sorry… couldn’t… save… too severe…”

The figure skater’s brows furrowed, as he tested those words out in his mind.

Couldn’t… save? …who…?

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Chained Up vrs. Voodoo Doll

Chained Up seems, to me, to be very reminiscent of Voodoo Doll. Obviously, I can’t go on much because it’s just teasers, but it’s got my head looking for connections ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

N’s space has broken glass, just like his Voodoo Doll room; both easily escapable, but only through enduring pain.

Leo’s space seems beautiful, but remember that his Voodoo Doll concept was all about hidden wounds.

Ken’s flower space is inside a sealed box, just as he was in Voodoo Doll - his concept was being engulfed in flames.

Ravi’s space is like a surgical/sterile room (think more ‘plastic sheeting’ than ‘curtains’) and his Voodoo Doll room concept was a kitchen full of spoiled food - “second life is impossible”.

Hongbin’s space is a bedroom in water, like a dream scene, while his Voodoo Doll concept was “repressed pain that is trapped inside from all sides, obstructed and then forced down further” - escaping into our dreams.

Hyuk’s space is a staircase to nowhere, as his Voodoo Doll concept was a dying tree - no longer growing and hence going nowhere.

Then add in this gem of a theory:

First Hongbin, then Ravi, N, Hyuk, Ken, and Leo. After they’re all “taken”, the teaser shows them pulling at their chokers (collars) and inside their various rooms/spaces.

If that’s the case, then it creates a nice story for Hongbin - he was the first, he’s her favorite, so of course she’d recapture him while letting the others go at the end of Voodoo Doll  ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Probably all just fan theory nonsense, but it’s lots of fun to think about ^^ And, hey, people don’t call Vixx “concept idols” for nothing!

Night at the museum - Part 2

Summary: Dean x Reader - A greek god of alcohol messes with the readers judgement during a hunt, causing both Dean and her to act like drunken fools.

Triggers: None.

Word Count: 1849

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Part 1

You woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell. Your head felt like it was exploding, your brains hammering against the constraints of your skull as your tongue stuck to the top of your mouth in dehydration. Thankfully your stomach was all right, since you actually hadn’t drowned yourself in alcohol, considering the door to the bathroom was barricaded for some reason. You were sure it hadn’t been like that last evening, but the more you tried to think of what had happened the more your pounding head hurt.

The last thing you could remember was working on some research about the Greek God before everything just went black. You jolted upright at that thought. Alcohol induced blackouts weren’t a good thing for anyone to have to deal with, even less so when you were a hunter. Not keeping your wits about you could get you killed in a split second in your profession.

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Service with a Smile CH 9

A/N: Alrighty, here it is! Chapter 9- four days later than I anticipated. Whoops. I’m sorry for the huge delay, but I’ve had a lot of writing to do for school- like, pen and paper writing- and it sucks up a whole lot of my time. :( Anyway, SWAS CH 9! Yay!

I’ve been meaning to go back and edit the previous chapters so that the directory for the next chapter is available, buuuut… Yeah, I’ll do that soon. :’)

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8

“Sleep well?” Astrid drawled, her voice ringing with humorous lilt.

“Ha-ha. As if you can’t already tell,” Hiccup laughed dryly. He gestured to himself with a sweep of his hand, and Astrid glanced over her shoulder to flash him an amused smirk.

It was fairly obvious to Astrid that Hiccup hardly got a wink of sleep. The rumpled shirt and tousled hair, plus the faint rings circling his eyes and the distracted disposition said it all, and Astrid could easily relate.

“Sarcasm,” she remarked.

“Too early,” he yawned.

“Boo hoo, I’ve been up since five.”

“Are you even real?”

Astrid’s amused grin was concealed from Hiccup’s sight, though the grin itself concealed a myriad of emotion.

And stress.

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Roses and Bluebells [G]

Title: Roses and Bluebells

Artist: dressedupinlights (she’s the best!)

Rating: G

Read on AO3: Here!

There’s something wrong with that morning’s delivery of roses. Kurt notices it almost immediately. Their scent is kind of wrong, and even though he hadn’t been working at Fantastique Florals for very long, he had become immediately familiar with the way each of the scents filled the small workspace. These roses don’t really smell at all. Scentless roses. They had provided them with scentless roses, when they should have been the most fragrant cuttings in the store.

“Hell,” he grumbles to himself as he makes his way to the back of the store, where they hold the receival records and where his boss is leaned over pages of accounts. “Marty, they delivered scentless roses.”

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anonymous asked:

A lewvithur prompt: Vivi and Lewis confess feeling to arthur but he rejects them because he still confused. (maybe theres a fight and kisses?)

((Nooooot much of a fight, but there are kisses!))

Arthur felt his stomach drop.

He…he had to have heard them wrong, right? Those flowers couldn’t be for him - those smiles couldn’t be for him. That  o f f e r  couldn’t be for him. The blond suddenly felt very dizzy, and his mouth was far too dry; his tongue stuck awkwardly to the roof of his mouth as he tried to form a response. He watched as blue and purple eyes lit up hopefully, and Arthur felt sick.

He hadn’t heard wrong.

But he wished he had.

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Break In (Ray/Reader)

Who: Reader/Ray
What: Your apartment was robbed and you got clobbered in the process. Ray lives below you and is one of your good friends so he takes care of you.
Rating: Mostly PG, some swearing, some pain/blood/sexual suggestions but nothing big. Ray is too adorable I am sorry.
Author’s note: May continue with this later because I feel like good guy Ray needs more love. Part two here.
Words: 5,000+

You felt cold. There was a metallic taste in your mouth. But you were cold. You had never felt this cold in bed. Slowly you opened your eyes, the light was blinding. You squinted at the blurry whiteness. Slowly it started to come more and more into focus. The white walls were not your room. The ceiling wasn’t your ceiling. You went from cold and sleepy, to cold and wide awake. You jerked up in bed and looked around. You rubbed your eyes and your head ached. Beside you was a small table with a little vase full of flowers. They were still wrapped in their plastic. Hastily bought. The little beeps and noises meant only one thing. A hospital? You looked around more. There were no IV’s in your arm, but the small heart monitor was attached to your finger either way. Well..

You hadn’t had an allergic reaction to anything at least. But why were you here. Why were you in the.. You reached up and felt your head again, it was killing you now but all you felt was a bandage. It ached there. Why. Your arms were littered in what looked like day old bruises. You weren’t in your clothes but in a gown. Other parts of you ached enough that you felt like you needed to lay back down but now your heart was beating rapidly. You couldn’t stop it. Why were you HERE? You opened your mouth to speak but only a soft little sound came out. Your voice was worn. Why? You tried to yell but it was scratchy and faded to the point that it didn’t even carry to the door.

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But Maya and Lucas Getting Married

And being the absolute most low key about it. They’re pretty much ready to treat the entire affair like a barbecue, paper plates and all, and Riley, their maid of honor, is not having it. 

Riley taking over the wedding organization immediately. Riley is basically the Maid of Honor’s version of Bridezilla, scheduling Lucas and Maya into dance lessons and cakes tastings and dress and suit fittings and floral appointments. And Lucas and Maya just going along with it in good humor, fooling around at dance classes, shoving their faces with cake, modeling dresses and suits like Zoolander, because they love Riley and the fact that she cares so much. 

And when Riley, high strung and stressed with wedding planning finally snaps and asks Maya why both of them don’t even care about their own wedding, Maya just looks at Lucas from across the florist shop, watches him laugh as he tries and fails to make a flower crown with Zay. 

And Maya smiles to herself and shrugs as she says, “I don’t know Riles. I’m marrying Ranger Rick. The how, the where, the when… doesn’t really matter as much as the who you know?”

And Riley just looks at her for a moment slightly stunned, watches as Lucas glances up in their direction and smiles brightly, eyes looking at Maya likes she’s the only one in the room, in the country, in the world

And that’s exactly the way that he looks at Maya  on their wedding day, as she walks down the aisle barefoot,  in a dress from H&M, with daisies plucked from the field they’re currently standing in strewn through her hair. And as Riley sees the way Lucas looks at Maya she doesn’t even need to ask him the same question, understands more than ever.

It’s not the how, it’s the who.

Their wedding is a barbecue. The only flower arrangement is in Maya’s hair, every utensil used is plastic and Lucas Friar square dances (badly). 

And it’s beautiful.


Growing Food in the Office

My office moved into a newly furnished building a few months ago. Huge new windows, nice flooring and conference rooms…but not a single plant. It’s unnaturally sterile. The office gets cereal bowls on certain days for breakfast. It kills me to see so much plastic getting thrown out. So, I’ve been collecting these bowls as planting containers. They are double stacked; the top one is poked with holes for drainage.

I got some spinach and mixed lettuce growing right now. Hoping to expand to some more edible greens and flowers. I also petitioned to start a roof top garden and vertical hydroponic setup in the office…fingers crossed for approvals.


And just how did these guys grow? Check them out in Part 2.

Mother nature is a bitch. Patrick Stump Imagine

Could you do an imagine with Patrick Stump? Like, he takes care of reader the first day on her period?


I wake up with a sharp pain in my stomach. I’ve had this feeling many times and I already know how this day is going to turn out. I slowly get out of bed and run to the bathroom. I find my box of tampons and Pamrin. I take two to start off with, but I know there will be many more to come.

One of the only downsides of being a girl, honestly. If your period is an example of what childbirth feels like, I’m not ready.

I crawl back in bed and fall asleep for another few hours. I wake up to a stronger pain than before. It feels as if somebody has punched me in the stomach.

“Fuck.” I whisper to myself.

“Are you okay?” I hear behind me.

I roll over to see my extremely adorable boyfriend looking at me. His hair is a mess and he seems to only be half awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you, go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.

“Mother nature is a bitch.” I say, burying my face in his chest. He keeps one hand around my waste and the other moves up so he’s holding my head and playing with my hair.

“Anything I can do?” He whispers, kissing my forehead.

“I don’t think there’s much for you to do.” I giggle. “Unless you can somehow have my period for me.”

“Yeah I don’t think I can do that.” He smiles. “But I would if I could.”

The first day is always the worst for me. I remember being that awkward 11 year old that got her period before anyone else and had to answer everyones stupid, awkward questions. It’s weird, everyone acts like getting your period is this great and wonderful thing and I don’t get it. It’s miserable. Always has been, always will be.

Patrick gets up and showers and I stay in bed. I hate to be that person that does nothing productive, but I am. Patrick comes out with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Why must you be so adorable when I can’t do anything about it?” I get up and wrap my hands around his neck. He grabs my waist and pulls me in.

“I didn’t mean to.” He smiles, kissing my nose.

“Yeah, yeah. Go put some clothes on.”

He goes to get dressed and I crawl back into bed.

“Can I get you anything?” Patrick asks, drying off his hair.

I don’t even reply. My whole body aches, especially my lower back. Patrick leaves the room and I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. I take another Pamprin and hope that does something.

“Y/N?” I hear Patrick whisper. I roll over and see him carrying a few plastic bags. “I brought you some things.”

“You did not have to do that!” I say with the biggest smile. He first hands me some lilies, my favorite flower. “You’re amazing.”

“Oh there’s more.” He smiles at me. He places the bags on the floor so I can’t see what’s in them. He hands me a teddy bear with a fedora on that’s holding a heart.

“How did you even find one of these?” I laugh, hugging the adorable teddy bear.

“I have my ways.” He smirks. He hands me some orange juice, more Pamprin, M&M’s, and a word search book. “There’s also some ice cream, but I had to put that in the freezer.”

I jump up and wrap my arms around him. “Patrick Stump you are the best boyfriend any girl could ask for.” I kiss his cheek and hug him again.

“I was also thinking that we could put on a movie and order out tonight.” He says without letting go of me.

“I thought you had plans?” I loosen my grip so my arms are still around him, but I’m facing him.

“Eh.” He shrugs. “You’re more important.”

I move to the couch in the living room and work on my word search as Patrick does what I usually do. (Laundry, cleaning, organizing)

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” I say from the couch and motioning him to come to me.

I pull him in and kiss him. He pulls away from a second and whispers. “Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

I keep my nose on his and our lips are barely apart. “I love you sooooo much. You make me happier than I have ever been. You’re cute, smart, talented, and overall the sweetest person I have ever met.”

Patrick leans in and kisses me gently. “You have no idea how much I love you.” He whispers to me. “You make me the happiest man on this planet. Word can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel.”

“Lay with me.” I whisper.

Without a second thought he crawls up behind me and wraps his arms around me. We put on a movie and don’t move at all.

Mother nature may be a bitch, but I do have to thank her for making it so this is how I spend my day.


*I hope this was okay! Please send in requests!*