or my age t t

  • me going to the circle tower: i hate this part.
  • me dealing with connor: i hate this part.
  • me going to orzammar: i hate this part.
  • me going to the werewolf woods: i hate this part.
  • me doing the landsmeet: i hate this part.
  • some rando: why play the game if you hate literally all of it?
  • me: how dare you?? this game is a classic??? a piece of art???? how could-
4

A Court of Thorns and Roses | Morrigan

“I once lived in a place where the opinion of others mattered. It suffocated me, nearly broke me. So you’ll understand me, Feyre, when I say that I know what you feel, and I know what they tried to do to you, and that with enough courage, you can say to hell with a reputation. You do what you love, what you need”

3

He never looked for you.

He says that he didn’t think he could handle finding you.

And that’s fair.

a drawing for @purplepurpleunicornsparkle‘s fic, drive it home with one headlight, which has been ruining my life ever since she started to write it

if you’ve been sleeping on this fic, please don’t, it’s incredible good and real and heartwretching and cathartic, and the ending is great, so now is a good time to check it out because shit’s going down

2

“I wanted to be an actor, like, so so bad. I took acting classes, I auditioned for Disney, and then I realized how nervous I got with remembering lines. Then music kind of fell upon me when I was around 13. I started watching YouTube videos and singing and it became something that I was obsessed with. Next thing I know, I was fully in it.”

I really wish Bioware would give us a Thedas tour.
I wanna see the cheese race in Ostwick and see the Grand Tourney. I wanna see the Grand Necropolis and the heart of Magisterium. I wanna see the busy streets of Antivan City and the grim landscape of the Anderfels.

I just want to see it all.

5. Being Attacked by Bugs

So andavs is not quite ready to post her art version yet (we already checked, the mind meld factor is not high…), but I wanted to put this up because it is a special gift for obriensnipples! Primarily as a belated birthday present, because she wanted Derek mowing the lawn shirtless but also because rough times suck and I hope this fic helps with that even if only a little bit!

So this next Not Quite Normal OTP challenge is for you, babe! I hope it brightens your day a little bit!

*^*^*^

Stiles’ summer vacation does not start out well. In fact, it starts out pretty poorly.

Okay, really, it’s a fucking disaster.

 Because, Stiles is walking out of Beacon Hills High, officially a Junior now that the final bell has rung, and he’s talking to Scott who keeps insisting that Junior year will be the year that he will finally ask Allison out and Scott has fallen behind to stare at her and Stiles keeps walking because Scott will catch up eventually, though Stiles is keeping an eye on him, and-

Well, that’s when he gets hit by a car.

Not just any car, though. No, when Stiles regains consciousness and manages to blink away the dark spots that take up 90% of his vision, he finds himself staring at the front of a black Camaro.

And the only black Camaro in Beacon Hills belongs to…

“Oh my god.” Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the now-senior lacrosse player and subject of almost all of Stiles’ dirtiest fantasies.

He groans. And it’s only partly from the pain.

“Fuck.”

“Stiles!” Scott sounds frantic. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I don’t need,” Stiles tries. And then stops. Because he looks down to see his leg covered in blood and he has never liked blood and- well, he doesn’t complain when Scott stands up with the phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m sorry!” Derek Hale is saying and he sounds… angry? This is not how Stiles wanted his first interaction with Derek Hale to go. “You just- you just walked right into the road!”

“Dude,” Stiles replies, rubbing at his eye. “Are you really blaming me for this?”

“Not blaming you, I just- you walked right in front of me!”

“You hit me with your car!” Stiles winces at the sounds of his own voice. It’s too loud. Everything is too loud.

When he opens his eyes again, Derek’s eyebrows are draw together in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeats. It’s probably just the result of Derek’s ridiculously attractive face and Stiles’ epic crush on the kid, but Stiles forgives him instantly. Even though he’s getting colder by the second and he’s pretty sure that’s not a good thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand and regretting it when the motion hurts his leg somehow. “I’m sure I’m fine.”

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