not even giving in to the sudden rain

everyone’s always talking about gavin being freakishly good with a bow in fahc but after the weapon stream can we talk about RYAN?

ryan who, for whatever reason, finds a compound bow somewhere and, because it’s ryan, decides he’s gonna do their next job only using the bow.

at first everyone’s mad cause like c'mon dude, we need your help. and ryan insisting that he will help! just with a bow

and someone (jeremy? geoff? michael?) scoffs and asks if he’s ever even used a bow. ryan doesn’t answer, and just gives a half smile with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes

cue their next job/heist/deal and ryan’s hanging back with the bow. the first couple shots he misses and everyone’s rolling their eyes and cursing him, trying to pick up the slack, when all of a sudden he’s hitting dead on

shot after shot rains down on the cops/rival gang. each one hitting people in the throat or in between gaps of armor.

they kill on the first shot or slow them down long enough for another shot to take them out. several hit guys in the crotch and they’re on the ground screaming in pain (without a follow up shot and one of the guys takes pity on them and puts them out of their misery)

after the job/heist/shootout the rest of the crew is staring at ryan in a mix of awe/fear on their faces. jeremy asks him when he ever shot a bow and ryan just replies ‘camp’

Caught in the Rain~Isaac Lahey imagine

•So this is my first imagine take it easy.

 •Description: Isaac and Y/N get into a heated argument. 

 •Warnings: fluff, swearing 

__________________________________________ 

“Isaac I can’t just drop everything to be with you 24 hours a day!” I yell as my boyfriend paces around the room. “I’m not asking you to y/n! I just want you by my side but you prefer hanging out with your best fucking friend Stiles!” Isaac yells as his ocean blue eyes flare with anger. I let out a bitchy laugh as I pull myself off the bed. “Oh please Lahey I’m helping him pass econ, not sucking his dick everyday after school.” I scream at him but he just let’s out a laugh. “Well it doesn’t help you come home reeking of him.” he yells as he hastily pulls on a t-shirt over his perfectly toned figure. “Oh I’m sorry but last time I checked I wasn’t the one who turned you into a werewolf and gave you fucking super senses so take that up with Derek!” I informed him angrily. “Really y/n? You never complain about my werewolf senses when I’m fucking you senseless darling!” He laughs as his six foot two figure towers over me. “Get fucked Lahey!” I scream. “Fine!” Isaac yells as he slams the door and leaves. 

• 3 hours later my phone buzzes. I check the clock on my bedside table and it reads 3:30 am. I groan and turn over. My phone buzzes again. I check my texts 

• Isaac: I’m outside. Come out. Isaac: Babe please. 

• I huff to myself as I roll out of bed and slip on my leggings and boots. When I go outside I see the rain is falling heavily. All of a sudden I see Isaac and I’m attacked with emotion. “What do you want Isaac?” I squeak , turning my head even though the rain hides my tears. “Babe please. I’m sorry…look I know I shouldn’t be jealous but I know Stiles. He can give you more than I can. I don’t want to lose you.” He tell me as his hand caresses my face. “Isaac, I would never leave you. You’re my person. I love you.” I say smiling through my tears. “I love you y/n. I’m sorry for being a fool.” He smiles. “It’s okay Lahey, because you’re my fool.” I say as I stand up on my toes to peck him on the lips. Our bodies press closer together , our clothes soaked through and dripping as he pulls me into a deep slow kiss.

Originally posted by isaacllahey

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Hartwin Fic: Something Just Like This

They’re walking the streets of Greenwich when it occurs to Eggsy that he is perfectly happy. 

It’s not a thunderbolt of discovery. Nothing like that. More like a quiet revelation, a simple realisation. Halfway back to the bus stop, under skies that threaten rain any moment, and Eggsy can say with absolute honesty that he’s never been so happy before. 

It’s impossible to hide his smile then, and he doesn’t even try. Why should he? He walks along, smiling widely, and when Harry gives him a mildly curious look, he just shrugs. He can’t put it into words, not without sounding like a complete idiot. 

Harry smiles back, a bit tentative, not in on the joke, not quite sure if he should. In his current mood Eggsy finds that caution endearing, and he has a sudden – but mercifully brief – urge to laugh out loud. 

They haven’t even done anything special today. The trip to Greenwich wasn’t planned, but Merlin needed someone to keep an eye on a couple locations that have been earmarked for suspicious activity. A few trackers and some cameras later, the work part of their day was done, and since then he and Harry have just been walking. 

Lunch was a few hours ago. Nothing special, just some sandwiches in a shop, their table in the window so they could watch the street corner Kingsman wants observed. They wandered along with a few tour groups, but Harry flatly refused to pay the entrance fee at the Royal Observatory, so they had turned in a different direction then. 

But longitude knows no restrictions, and so some distance away, Eggsy had found himself standing with one foot each in two different time zones. He had thrown his arms out wide and yelled, “Help, I’m being pulled apart by time and space!”

Harry had smiled indulgently, his eyes alight with amusement behind the Kingsman glasses, holding his Rainmaker just below the curved part of the handle. And when he reached out a hand to pull Eggsy off the Prime Meridian and onto “safety,” Eggsy had held on just a little bit longer than was strictly necessary – and Harry had let him. 

The train back to London leaves in an hour. Plenty of time for them to get the bus to the station, push through the crowd of people, and take their seats. They’ll sit across from each other and Eggsy will discreetly press Harry’s foot with his own, and grin at him. They’ll stop somewhere for dinner, then go home and do the laundry they were supposed to have done yesterday. And at some point Harry will walk past him and give him an absent kiss, and Eggsy will turn toward him and that’ll be it. Chores will be forgotten in the sweet rush of hands and lips and bare skin. 

That’s really it, he thinks. The reason he’s so happy even in a grimy city under glowering skies. Because wherever he is, he has Harry. Someone he can turn to, someone he can kiss. 

That’s all he needs. 

“You seem quite pleased with yourself,” Harry observes. 

Eggsy nods. He’s still smiling like an idiot, but he doesn’t care. “I am." 

"Any reason in particular?” Harry asks. 

Eggsy looks at him, and he doesn’t think he’s ever loved Harry more than he does in this moment. 

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” he promises.  

View larger version on AO3

Totally inspired by this post in which our wonderful @elrhiarhodan (who got prompted with Peter/Neal by equally wonderful @archivistsrock ) said that Peter would totally hold the umbrella for Neal. OMG, yes! He would hold the umbrella and even give him his coat, especially if the rain was sudden and unexpected and Neal was feeling a bit under the weather and just wanted to go home ♥_♥

The Romance Arc (Destiel)

So, I know we always say it, but the other day I was finally fed up enough - or weird enough - to decide I’d make a list. And, guys, this is going to be a long-ass post, so if you haven’t got time, here is the tl;dr version: if we look at the love tropes most commonly used to build an onscreen relationship, Dean and Cas score an eye-watering 61/91 - that’s a 67% total.

Now, to put that in perspective - in order to build a romance arc, you’ve got five obligatory stages (meeting each other, falling in love, becoming a couple, a period of conflict, a resolution) and each of these stages will include at least one common trope, more or less hidden according to the kind of media and the author’s intent and sophistication. tvtropes lists a total of 91 tropes, but no love story will ever use them all. That would be ridiculous - either a parody or complete insanity. Think of a story where our lovers were destined to be together and also promised to each other as children and also the reincarnation of past lovers; where they meet by spilling coffee on each other and then she goes on to lose her handkerchief and he picks it up and runs after her to give it back but - whoa - now she’s been attacked by pirates and the hero wants to save her but his king is ordering him not to and oh no, what will he do? That sounds like overkill, right? And it totally is: a story with too many tropes is a ridiculous, unrealistic, unwatchable mess. To give you a better idea of what I mean, if look at those 91 tropes tvtropes lists as possible steps to build a romance arc, Dirty Dancing, one of the most romantic movies ever made, only scores 19 points; 10 Things I Hate about You, another big favourite of mine and an absolute ALL the love, ALL the feels story, scores 16 points. And Jane the Virgin, an actual soap-opera parody on the CW complete with sudden rain and snow to highlight special kisses, scores even lower: 13 points.

Meanwhile, normal friendships between men like Sam and Frodo’s in the Lord of the Rings trilogy or Ted and Marshall’s in How I Met Your Mother score a grand total of zero points - so, yes, it’s perfectly possible to write a non-romantic male friendship even when that friendship is a dramatic I’ll walk with you to the very edge of the Earth and then carry you up the slopes of a dangerous volcano and finally die with you sort of thing. Because, funnily enough, you can be friends with somebody and be ready to die for them without actually having a sexual interest in them. 

(Johnlock scores 29 points.)

(Wincest, 4.)

Something you could be wondering at this point is, why tropes though? Why are tropes a thing, and why does it matter how many tropes Supernatural chooses to use between Dean and Cas? And, look, I’m sure someone else could say it better, but essentially tropes are the bones of a story. Every single story you see out there, from the Odyssey to Torchwood/Gossip Girl crossovers to coffeshop AUs is built out of the same building blocks. There are, like, seven possible plots and about two dozen kinds of characters and maybe two hundred common tropes - and that’s it. Try tagging any classic novel with AO3 tags and you’ll see what I mean. 

[This story is Jules Verne’s fanfiction of an Edgar Allan Poe novel, and, yeah.]

Now, since it’s only possible to build a story in a limited number of ways, the problem all authors face is to find an original way to make it work. Some will use tropes religiously, either because they can’t think of anything different or because they hope a tried-and-tested formula will appeal to readers (see every romance novel under the sun; also most thrillers). Others will make fun of tradition by throwing the tropes back in your face (one of my favourite takes of this is Diana Wynne Jones’ Howl’s Moving Castle). And others will manage to bullshit you so thoroughly and completely you won’t notice the tropes are there until it’s too late - those are the stories where you’re truly surprised and shocked by events and you sit up in bed like a fool gasping out loud and you only stop reading because you need to tell someone asap, You won’t believe what just happened. A good example of this is the ending of the first season of Game of Thrones - we were all so convinced Ned Stark was the hero, filming people who hadn’t read the books as they watched him die became something of a hobby; and many became convinced George RR Martin was this all-powerful deity without any rules (not true: he’s a good writer, however, and he managed to convince most of us Ned was the hero when in reality he was the ‘Dumbledore’ figure - and therefore his death makes perfect sense).

And if we’re talking about Destiel - as I explained in the very first meta I wrote for this fandom (though at the time I hadn’t even realized I was part of a fandom, and didn’t know what a meta even was), I didn’t start to ‘ship’ Dean and Cas out of nefarious reasons, or tedium, or a desire to write smutty fanfiction. In fact, I still don’t consider myself a shipper in any way. I am not particularly interested in romance, and I never go out of my way to see who may be suited for whom. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong in doing that - just that it’s something I don’t do. If I started to see Destiel and to write about it, it’s because to me (and, apparently, to a lot of other people), it was clear that there was something there; that that was how the story was built. And if I started to look at it more closely, it was simply because my expectations as a viewer were disappointed, and the relationship of trust between author and reader was - for me - crumbling into nothingness. 

And, look, I won’t lie: I was angry and upset by the implications - that there was something wrong with me - that I was trying to force a sexual relationship on two friends just because. That, as a woman, I couldn’t enjoy a story without making it all about the romance. No, I am a huge book nerd, and I like writing stories, and I mostly analyse stuff for a living and I also sort of have eyes? - so, to me, it was clear I was being lied to, and at that moment, I was left in an uncomfortably ambiguous position which will sound familiar to many of you - I was furious at the show, but at the same time I was still in love with the characters (so very much in love). This was a frustrating feeling which presented me with two equally unappealing options - to keep watching and not expect anything, or to walk away. In the end, I tried a third way, which I suspect many of you have chosen as well: I was too invested in these characters to abandon them, but I also wanted this story to be an honest story, so I started complementing it with ‘viewing supports’. I started to read (and write) fanfiction. I looked for fanvideos, fanart and gifs. And, most of all, I fell into the habit of reading (and writing) metas after every episode to make sure what I was seeing was actually there. Because, well, for me - that’s why I write metas about Supernatural when I don’t write metas of other shows I enjoy much more: because most of the time Supernatural is more focused on not telling a story than it is in telling one, which means what we are left with what is a half story where our characters have their own secret life offscreen and many lines of dialogue could mean anything. Ironically enough, Supernatural has become like its hero and POV character, Dean Winchester: a con and a liar and a charmer who tries to be liked by everyone. 

(And let’s not forget the swings both ways thing).

As for the other question - are we crazy? - I’m hoping this post will help clearing things up: no, we are not crazy. The reason we see a romance unfolding is because the relationship between Dean and Cas is written to fit a romance arc - and does fit a romance arc by 67%.

[Longer analysis under the cut.]

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Baker’s Four - part two

Last Part | Masterpost | Next Part (to be added)

A/N I said give me an hour and it ended up being two hours + another 1000 words and a new character. Here it is anyway!

Pairing: neutral, eventual poly but implied royality

Genre: AU, baking AU, fluff, human AU

Word Count: 2 320

Warnings: some swearing

Summary:

The day Ann arrives from Patton’s perspective. He’s curious about this odd boy and his somehow more odd (but just as pleasant) brother.

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Latte Love Story-Harrison(Harry)Wells x Reader

Authors Notes) Hello there! This is indeed a reader insert that involves Harry from THE FLASH(TV) I don’t usually write, but I got this idea stuck in my head and I gotta get it unstuck some how. Warnings: Mention of blood, weapons and Depression. I can’t guarantee you a happy ending. Enjoy!

Originally posted by theblackwook

It rained this morning, it’s still raining, but half as bad. You and Harrison admire each other like a phenomenal piece of art, but the two of you were too afraid to engage into anything, so here you are two awkward emotionally stupid physicists and so the rain continues. 


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“It’s better if we are together
Because the future might vanish
Hurry up and be sure to smile while we still can”
 
– Not Even Giving In To the Sudden Rain - NICO Touches the Walls (Naruto Shippūden, opening 13)

8

1- Hero’s Come Back!! (performed by nobodyknows+) From episodes 1 to 30. (full song length: 4:35)

2 - Distance (performed by LONG SHOT PARTY) From episodes 31 to 53. (full song length: 3:07)

3 - Blue Bird (ブルーバード, Burū Bādo) (performed by “Ikimono-Gakari” (いきものがかり, "Ikimono-Gakari")) From episodes 54 to 77. (full song length: 3:36)

4 - Closer (performed by “Joe Inoue” (井上ジョー, "Inoue Joe") From episode 78 to 102. (full song length: 3:28)

5 - Glow of a Firefly (ホタルノヒカリ, Hotaru no Hikari) (performed by “Ikimono-Gakari” (いきものがかり,“Ikimono-Gakari”)) From episode 103 to 128. (full song length: 4:01)

6 - Sign (performed by FLOW) From episode 129 to 153. (full song length: 3:58)

7 - The World that was Transparent (透明だった世界, Tōmei datta Sekai) (performed by “Hata Motohiro” (秦基博,“Motohiro Hata”) From episode 154 to 179. (full song length: 3:56)

8 - Diver (ダイバー, Daibā) (performed by NICO Touches the Walls) From episode 180 to 205. (full song length: 4:10)

9 - Lovers (ラヴァーズ, Ravāzu) (performed by 7!! Seven Oops) From episodes 206 to 230. (full song length: 3:49)

10 - Newsong (performed by tacica) From episode 231 to 256. (full song length: 3:31)

11 - Assault Rock (突撃ロック, Totsugeki Rokku) (performed by THE CRO-MAGNONS) From episodes 257 to 281. (full song length: 2:26)

12 - Moshimo (もしも) (performed by Daisuke) From episodes 282 to 306. (full song length: 3:57)

13 - Not Even Giving In To the Sudden Rain (ニワカ雨ニモ負ケズ, Niwaka Ame ni mo Makezu) (performed by NICO Touches the Walls) From episode 307 to 332. (full song length: 4:22)

14 - Size of the Moon (月の大きさ, Tsuki no Ōkisa) (performed by Nogizaka46) From episode 333 to 356. (full song length: 3:56)

15 - Crimson Lotus (紅蓮, Guren) (performed by DOES) From episode 357 to 379. (full song length: 4:04)

16 - Silhouette (シルエット, Shiruetto) (performed by KANA-BOON) From episode 380 to 405. (full song length: 4:01)

17 - Wind (風, Kaze) (performed by Yamazaru) From episode 406 to 431. (full song length: 4:09)

18 - LINE (performed by Sukima Switch) From episode 432 to 458. (full song length: 4:43)

19 - Blood Circulator (ブラッドサーキュレーター, Buraddo Sākyurētā) (performed by Asian Kung-Fu Generation) From episode 459 onwards. (full song length: 3:43)

I'll take care of you

Character: Credence Barebone

Prompt: 81

A/n: Credence makes me very emotional because my son deserved so much better.

• You jumped a little at the sudden loud crack of thunder that rattled outside, nearly dropping the books out of your hands.

It had been raining all afternoon so most people choose to stay indoors. You had closed your bookshop for the evening and decided to rearrange the shelves a little and choose which books to give away so you could have room for newer releases.

If the thunder caused you to jump then you all but screamed whenever several small taps came to your back door. It took a moment for you to catch your breath before you ran over to the door.

It was still late in the evening, so you had no idea who could be knocking on your door at this hour.

Unlike the front door, this one had a peephole so you could safely check to see who was outside.

You were shocked to see Credence standing there, clinging onto his coat and looking terribly upset.

You hurriedly pulled open the door and scrambled him inside, locking it quickly.

“What on earth are you doing here? If your mother finds out she’ll al but kill you.” You warned turning to look at him.

Credence didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t an uncommon with him. However when you heard a small sob come from him you were on high alert.

“What’s the matter?” You asked softly, stepping close to him and trying to look at him, but his gaze was transfixed upon the floor. “Did she hurt you again?”

When he nodded meekly you gently reached out your hands for his, turning them over and grimacing at the red lash marks on them.

“How horrible.” You commented quietly, know this was a common thing at the place where Credence lived, somewhere you wouldn’t go near even if you’re life depended on it. “Does it still hurt?”

With another nod you gently dropped your hands and brushed the dark hair that clung to his pale forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take of you.” You said assuringly. “Stay here, I have some medicine upstairs and I’ll get you a towel.”

He silently nodded again and you quickly ran up the stairs into your apartment and took all the things you needed, plus a glass of water to help him calm down.

You found Credence sitting stiffly at one of the sofas next to the windows, silently watching the rain.

You placed the safety kit and water on the coffee table and wrapped the towel around his shoulders, bringing the ends up to fluff at his hair and dry it. “There you go.” You said with a small smile at the look of his utterly disheveled hair.

The corners of Credence mouth raised ever so slightly, know how ridiculous he must of looked. “Now this is going to sting just a little bit.” You warned, placing some antibacterial on his hands.

He did flinch a little but with no complaints you cleaned the wounds and the wrapped some bandages around them.

“Do you think you can hold this?” You asked, holding the glass of water out for him.

“Yes.” He answered quietly, taking it and drinking it slowly.

“You know if things get too rough at home you can always come here to clear your head.” You said, offering him a comforting smile.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely, setting the empty glass down.

You took his hands again and his the back of the bandages. “To help them heal faster.” You said smiling.

You sighed knowing how late it was getting. “I’d hate to send you off, but you really ought to be heading home now. Don’t want to make your mother angrier.”

Credence nodding in agreement, standing up and walking to the back door.

You rested your hand on his shoulder and unlocked the door. “Take my umbrella and give it back to me whenever I see you next.”

“Can I come back soon?” He asked, once you opened the door for him.

You smiled. “Of course.”

Originally posted by hardyness

I’ll Come Back for You

Request: “God I want to make a really weird request, but if you don’t mind what about Credence x reader where while credence have to give flyers on opposite side of street a girl sing to get some coins to survive? And like one day they take a break and speak to each other and fall in love?”

Pairing: Credence Barebone x Reader

Word Count: 1179

Warnings: poverty ?? idk

Originally posted by hardyness


Credence let out a quiet sigh, bowing his head as his hand was stuck in a forward position, clutching a Second Salemer’s leaflet. It was a hopeless task, with only a few people slowing to even acknowledge his presence. Most just shoved past, scurrying to their destination without another thought. He started to feel spattering droplets of water fall on his coat, looking up to find a swirl of black storm clouds. He looked back down as he heard a commotion on the other side of the street. Through passing cars he could spot you, once again beginning to put on an impromptu show, a hat thrown in front of you, busking for tips.

He reluctantly shoved the remaining flyers under his arm, making his way across the street so to get out of the rain. You had begun performing under the shelter of the overpass, warranting a small audience as they listened to the beautiful song. Credence huffed in defeat, succumbing to the entrancing melody.

He wanted to hate you. Whenever he came into the busiest part of Manhattan to hand out flyers you were always somewhere near, drawing people towards you. Your voice had stolen the attention of the busy New York folk, something that he was jealous of because you did it so easily. If he had the power you did, to coerce people to give him some time from their day, Mary Lou would probably love the number of leaflets he’d hand out.

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Lips Are Sealed

Imagine Sam and Dean being overprotective of you, a deaf hunter, when you are more than capable of taking care of yourself.

Author: hogwartsismyhometoo

Requested By: jenn-97

Word Count: 2,663


You always enjoyed the sight of watching a pile of bones go up in flames. It meant a job well done. It meant you’d saved others from possible injury or death, it meant you’d let a spirit rest.

You warmed your hands over the fire, the warmth soothing your ice-cold skin. It was a frigid October night in Pennsylvania, and the sun had set hours ago. You were alone, in the dead of night, at a graveyard, just days before Halloween. But you weren’t scared. Nothing had properly scared you for years.

Just as you were thinking that, someone tapped your shoulder, and you jumped. Your heart pounded as you spun around, shotgun held tight in both of your hands. The two tall men took a few steps back, holding up their hands to show they meant no harm.

Are you okay? You saw the shorter of the two say. They were both big, muscular men, much stronger than you, but they had kind faces.

You nodded in response, lowering your gun. You wished you could open your mouth to say something, but you hadn’t been able to form words your entire life. Not with your lips.

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Title: Out of the Bag

Summary: Everyone knows there’s something up with Adrien and Marinette. They just haven’t figured out what.

Notes: A short post-reveal fic in which Marinette and Adrien do the dating-but-not thing and their classmates try and fail to keep up. Also, this is like, my fourth miraculous ladybug fic in two days…. What is this…

-

At first, no one had noticed it.

It had become a sort of accepted fact to them, that Adrien Agreste, kind and sweet as he is, is rather bad at answering his cell during a crisis. And Marinette, so shy—surely she must be hiding! After all, why else would they vanish without a trace each time an akuma attacks?

They certainly don’t try and disperse these rumors. And they always vanish at different times, it seems, and show up from different places… it makes sense, in a convoluted, probably-influenced-by-denial sort of way.

But then—and here’s where things get weird—then they start disappearing and reappearing… together.

Adrien passes it off with a nervous laugh and a wave of his hand. He smiles more than he used to, or at least differently. He is the reserved and well-mannered type, except sometimes when he smiles it’s more cocky than sweet and every once in a while he’ll come out with a joke that makes everyone groan.

But he’s still the well-mannered one, even if he seems to be slipping, so they take his half-hearted excuses and agree. Of course it made sense for him to run off! He had a photoshoot! Even if it was, you know, pouring with rain…

Marinette is harder. Everyone and their mother knows about her crush on Adrien—except perhaps Adrien himself, but who knows with him—so her sudden lack of stuttering and outrageous blushing whenever she comes face to with him is rather startling.

So are the smiles she gives him, the ones no one had ever expected sweet, shy Marinette capable of. It’s a sly quirk of her mouth, teasing and fond, the smile of a lifelong friend to another except hers has an edge to it, a flirtatious undertone that makes everyone stop because Marinette? Flirting with Adrien? Without falling over herself blushing and stammering and scattering papers everywhere?

Check the skies for flying pigs, as they say.

If anything, these new changes only heighten their suspicions—but Marinette manages to answer absolutely nothing and everything whenever they manage to corner her. She laughs a bit, always nervously, her eyes flickering about, and then she’ll start to babble, and before they know it they’re talking about something completely different and Marinette has already vanished again, off to speak with Ayla or Adrien.

Everyone knows there is something up with them, a secret the two are keeping under wraps, but no one is entirely sure what.  They leave clues lying about with their every action, but none of the pieces make sense, and the picture they form is blurry and incomprehensible.

Because one day out of the blue Adrien Agreste ran through the halls and crashed into Marinette Dupain-Cheng like he couldn’t believe she was real, and she stiffened and hugged him back like he was a dream come to life. Because in the span of one night they went from distant acquaintances to something more, but no one can say why or how, and it is maddening how little they know about such a miraculous event.

They don’t understand why Adrien howls—howls!—with laughter when Marinette buys him a bell necklace for New Year’s, or why all Adrien seems to do is sprout cat puns whenever Marinette is within hearing range.

They don’t understand why Adrien looks at her as if she’s the stars themselves, and they can’t comprehend the aching affection in her eyes when she nudges his shoulder with a gentle fist and says, “You okay?”

They don’t understand but they know it exists, this strange not-quite-friendship and not-quite-love that surrounds the two, and all the secrets that bind them together.

Perhaps they will never understand, but that’s okay too—because Marinette is kind and sweet and Adrien is well-mannered but actually kind of funny, and they are their friends, so they’ll accept them anyway, changes and all.

(Though a little explanation would be nice.)

Imagine Credence walking home from handing out his leaflets and its raining real bad so he slips over and falls onto the pavement. He’s  trying desperately to gather up his leaflets before they get even wetter (Ma will beat him if they are unusable ) but all of a sudden he doesn’t feel raindrops hitting him anymore and when he looks up Mr Graves is standing there, a shimmery umbrella like apparition coming from his wand. Mr Graves bends down so he’s meeting Credence’s face and with his spare hand cups the boys face in his hand and gives him a quick delicate kiss. 

“Lets get you into the warm Credence” 

5

This is the translated version for the 誘惑のバージンロード(Temptation of Aisle), new sub story in 吉祥寺恋色デイズ(Dreamy Days in West Tokyo).

Please forgive me for my crappy japanese as I am still a elementary level student for Japanese Language.

This is the last story I buy in this month. But I am very happy as I could see Ichy’s cool look~~~ (´„>ω

Today, we’ve a date and throughout the date, Ichy figured out my thoughts before I even speak it out. I was worried that he is too tired due to his inregular shift work and want to date at home. He knew it and we buy food back to his apartment and cook dinner. Recently, he kept saying words that was too straightforward which makes me feel shy. (///△///;)””

If I give Ichy a call, it will lead to 運命の赤い系ルート. We have the photo-shooting on a beach. I am looking forward to Ichy’s Tuxedo~~~ He look super cool and handsome! ٩(๑>ω

The later part is a bit embarrassed cause Ichy request to stay at the cottage they rent when they offer to send us back home. The photo-shooting was put to a halt due to the sudden rain. After they left, Ichy request to have a bath together and the reason is to the warm the cold body before we get a cold. In the evening, we went for a walk at the beach after the rain stopped. After that, we hold hands and walked back to the cottage. After that, you should know what will happens… ( //Д//).:*

If I send him a email instead, it will lead to 誘惑の黒い系ルート. Ichy give me a call and couldn’t make it for the shooting due to replace of his senior at work. I meet Ritchy at the street and told him about it. Ritchy decided to be the role of Groom in replace of Ichy. He is quite happy about it. Knowing Ichy will be worried, I email to Ichy before heading to the scene. The email is regarding Ritchy’s offer to help out and told him not to worried about it and work hard.

Today, Ritchy is pretty weird. He is quite straightforward and even put his arms around my waist during the photo-shooting. He says it is his privilege to hold me. My mind is totally blank. I am like “Huh!?”. The staff totally believed that we are true couple throughout the shooting process. For the last scene, the cameraman want us to kiss in front of the Altar in the church. Wait… Hold on! What!? Kiss other guy!? It is impossible!

理人「僕の真面目だよ?」
Rihito 「I am serious.」(╯º∀º╰ )

It is a strange feeling when I heard Ritchy said that. At that point of time, I heard Ichy’s voice. A sigh of relieve as we was about to kiss (which I don’t want!)~~~ When Ichy approached us, he is sweating and slightly out of breath. I wonder is he running here? He declare that he is my boyfriend (I am so happy~~~Sweet!!!(#^^#))

一護「行くぞ」
Ichigo 「Let’s go」

チェリー「え?でもまだ撮影が…」
Cherry 「What? But we were still shooting…」

We went out of the church. I saw a car parked outside and asked him about it. He told me that a senior from his workplace lent it to him. When we were in the car, he look pretty upset.

Especially when he knew that Ritchy pretend to be my boyfriend. When he stop the car and suddenly kiss me. He violently kiss me and the breathing is painful. It is different from our usual kiss… It scared me and I grabbed the hem of the clothes desperately. He is shocked and apologized. I am still shocked and asked him why. He explained that he is jealous after reading the email. He is blushing~~~ (≧▽≦)可愛い!He said he will revenge!? HUH!?怖い~~~

一護「なあ・・・このドレス脱がせい」 (´・_・`)
Ichigo「I wish…Take off the dress」

チェリー「な、なんで?」
Cherry「Why?」

一護「お前には、オレが選んだドレスなんて、さっさと脱いでほしいっつーか・・・」 (´・д・`)
Ichigo「It is not the dress I choose, I wish to take off the dress quickly…」

(いっちゃんの声、耳元で・・・くすぐったい・・・!)
(Ichy’s talking to me at the ear…It is ticklish…!)

チェリー「だけど・・・ここじゃダメだよ。車の中だし・・・」 o(*≧□≦)o ダメ~!!
Cherry「But…It cannot be here. We are in the car…」

一護「なら・・・2人きりになれる場所ならいいんだな?」
Ichigo「Then if we are in the place with just two of us?」

チェリー「えっ・・・」 (´⊙ω⊙`)
Cherry「Eh…」

The meaning behind the smile is deep as when he get back to grasp the steering.

(どこに行くつもりだそう・・・?)
(I wonder where will we going…?)

Today, Ichy is more pushy than usual. It’s impossible to keep my heartbeat throbbing violently while looking at his side view~~~(„>

After all, I love Ichy the most! ❥»(´•ω•` )

multifand0mtrash  asked:

I found you on the roof of my house passed out with a black eye holding a fire extinguisher // the sheriff has pictures of that... isaac andd scott convinced derek to try that brew of alcohol deaton has in his office to get drunk... the last thing they remember was derek buying the fire extinguisher to woo stiles by telling him "you're so hot that if i want to date you i have to carry this around so i dont get burnt"

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 814
Fluff, Established Relationship, POV Stiles
Read on AO3

Stiles throws open his curtains and groans. It’s raining. Today is human training day and Allison never cancels because of the weather. He’s going to die. Either because he’ll catch pneumonia or because he’ll slip in the mud and crack his head open.

He opens the window to check how cold the rain is, and a dark shape on the roof catches his eye. Slowly, Stiles sticks his head outside, craning to see what the dark shape is. 

Derek has somehow managed to curl up on his roof… with a fire extinguisher? Stiles knows Derek, Scott, Isaac and Boyd had some sort of werewolf bro night the night before, but he thought they would just run around the preserve and howl at the moon, not sleep on his roof, cuddling odd items.

‘Derek?’ 

Derek stirs a little but doesn’t open his eyes.

Stiles sighs, then grabs the baseball that’s lying next to his bed and chucks it at the sleeping werewolf.

‘Derek!’

Derek shoots, up trying to stand. He groans, loses his balance, and -still clutching the fire extinguisher- crashes to the ground. Stiles winces. He should have thought that through a little more. He quickly pulls on his sneakers and races downstairs. His dad is about to leave for work, grabbing his coat and holstering his gun, when Stiles gets to the front door.

‘Did Derek just fall off our roof?’ his dad asks.

‘Yeah. He- Wait, you knew he was up there?’

‘Of course,’ his dad shrugs, then he grins. ‘I also took a couple pictures with my phone. You want them?’

‘Hell, yes.’ Stiles doesn’t know why his dad even asked.

‘See you tonight, kid. And tell Derek that he should just come inside next time. The neighbours are already giving us weird looks.’

Stiles grabs his jacket, follows his dad outside and waves him goodbye. Then he quickly goes to check on his boyfriend. Derek is still lying in the grass, blinking up at the sky, into the rain. He smiles when he sees Stiles.

‘Hey.’

Hey? That’s all you have to say? Dude, you were sleeping on my roof!’ Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and helps him up. ‘How? But mostly why?’

‘Uhm…’ Derek flushes bright red. The sudden change of colour on his face makes the fading bruise around his left eye more prominent.

‘Oh my god, do you have a black eye?’ Stiles asks, frowning as he lightly traces his fingers under the bruise.

Derek winces, clutching his fire extinguisher. ‘Can we talk about this inside?’

‘Sure. Come on.’

Stiles leads Derek inside and up the stairs to the bathroom. He leaves Derek to clean up by himself, while he checks his phone. Something happened last night, and knowing Scott, he’s probably told him most of the story in emoticons already. But there is only one message from Scott:

>> UR WELCM! :D ;)

Stiles sighs. He’ll have to pull it out of Derek then.

When Derek finally emerges, he’s wearing sweatpants and a sheepish look. And he’s still holding the fire extinguisher. What is up with that? Where did he even get one?

Stiles makes himself comfortable, sitting with his pillows in his back, arms crossed, and legs nice and warm under the blankets. Derek sits down next to him. The fire extinguisher is set on the floor.

‘So, you know Deaton’s been working on a safe way to make us effected by alcohol? Trying to get the right dosages of particular strands of wolfsbane so there will be no permanent damage?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I drank it.’

‘And I’m assuming it worked,’ Stiles smirks, throwing a glance at the fire extinguisher. ‘So, what’s the story behind that thing? And the black eye?’

‘Uhm, Scott and Isaac dared me to “woo” you by saying: you’re so hot that if I want to date you I have to carry this around so I don’t get burnt.’ Derek’s face is bright red again. The tips of his ears almost as red as Stiles’ old lacrosse jerseys. ‘And I got the black eye because when I pulled the fire extinguisher off the wall at Deaton’s, it hit me in the eye.’ Derek prods at the bruise and winces. ‘I think the wolfsbane in the vodka slowed the healing a bit.’

Stiles bursts out laughing. It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. But it’s also kind of cute. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he shuffles closer to Derek until he’s pressed against the werewolf’s side and can lay his head on Derek’s shoulder.

‘You know I’m never going to let you live this down right?’ he grins, tilting his head up so he can look at Derek. 

‘I figured,’ Derek says, a wry look on his face.

‘Neither will my dad. He took pictures.’

The look of horror on Derek’s face has Stiles laughing again for the next ten minutes.

You get born and you try this and you don’t know why only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don’t know why either except that the strings are all in one another’s way like five or six people all trying to make a rug on the same loom only each one wants to weave his own pattern into the rug; and it cant matter, you know that, or the Ones that set up the loom would have arranged things a little better, and yet it must matter because you keep on trying or having to keep on trying and then all of a sudden it’s all over and all you have left is a block of stone with scratches on it provided there was someone to remember to have the marble scratched and set up or had time to, and it rains on it and the sun shines on it and after a while they don’t even remember the name and what the scratches were trying to tell, and it doesn’t matter. And so maybe if you could go to someone, the stranger the better, and give them something—a scrap of paper—something, anything, it not to mean anything in itself and them not even to read it or keep it, not even bother to throw it away or destroy it, at least it would be something just because it would have happened, be remembered even if only from passing from one hand to another, one mind to another, and it would be at least a scratch, something, something that might make a mark on something that was once for the reason that it can die someday, while the block of stone cant be is because it never can become was because it cant ever die or perish.……
—  William Faulkner, from Absalom, Absalom! (Vintage, 1936)

Questionable Artistry

Hers is a craft that leaves marks, and he just handed her his heart.

Modern AU, Solavellan. 2800~ words, rated T.

part 1 / part 2part 3 / part 4

The book is finished a week later, as promised.

It’s some of her finest work, Ellana thinks – the owl in the centre, wings regally spread, and every feather etched with careful precision. The embellishments around the edges and the spine is a design of her own creation, deeply-chiselled whorls and waves; the relief causing an illusion of light and shadow, begging for the reverent trace of a fingertip along the finely carved ridges.

She wraps it in silk paper and leaves it on the counter, fixes her hair twice – once up, a loose bun, then down, then up again. Then she gives up the whole venture, sits down to watch Bull whittle a Darkspawn piece for his chess board, and to keep her hands busy works idly on a discarded block of wood until she’s covered head to toe in dust, and it would be true to her luck to have him show up now, but he doesn’t. The day goes by, and the next, and the next, and there’s no sign of Solas.

At first she tries not to think too much about it – doesn’t want to think about it, or him, and the words they’d exchanged last. Shame burns in her heart at the memory, and she can’t bear to look at the vhenadahl, always at the corner of her eye, no matter where she turns. She doesn’t even know who she’s truly angry at – him, for his callous remarks, or herself, for taking it so bloody personally.

But if she’s waiting for an apology, or even for him to show up at all, she appears to be waiting in vain, and irritation sparks when she thinks about the book – the hours spent, unpaid if his refusal to show up is some kind of silent, petty rebuttal to their argument. The confusing part is that he doesn’t strike her as the type to do such a thing, but if not that, then what? For all their previous meetings he’s exhibited a near mechanical sense of punctuality, but now there’s hasn’t been so much as a word. And of course, she still doesn’t have his number, or even an address. What’s worse, the thought that his absence could be due some misconstrued notion that she needs space rankles more than she’d like to admit. She’s a professional – she’s endured more than her share of insufferable customers. A differing opinion wouldn’t have hindered her work, and the fact that he might think that bothers her more than anything else.

The days pass in a quiet haze, and she moves between projects with a half-hearted diligence in a vain attempt to distract herself, but failing to reach the singular mindset that would keep her thoughts from drifting. But she’s sitting by her workbench one late afternoon when the bell chimes, and she hears the rumble of thunder from outside, following at the heels of the door heralding someone’s arrival with its usual gusto. It’s been pouring down all day, and she’s surprised anyone would venture out in this weather, but a flicker of hope bursts to life behind her breast at the thought that it might be him, and she’s on her feet before the door has slammed shut again, almost forgetting to put down her chisel in her hurry.

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