she licks its head and back and then puts her paws over it like she's guarding it

Love Bait | Chapter One: ENLISTMENT

Fandom: Shingeki No Kyojin/Attack On Titan (Anime)
Type: Series
Pairing: Levi x OC
Word Count: 5784
Category: Fanfiction (Angst and Eventual Smut)

**Note: Some scenes/dialogues were originally from the manga/anime**
**A/N: Sorry for the delay and sorry for any wrong spelling or grammar in advance.Please enjoy reading :) If you haven’t read the PROLOGUE it’s  
>>here<< **

“I never said that.They want me dead.But i never said i wanted to die,“

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The Boy with the Ladybug Tattoos

After a long day of noise and subpar cheese, Plagg is ready for some revenge. Put together a grumpy Plagg and some temporary Ladybug-themed tattoos, and soon you get a very decorated (and very disgruntled) teenage boy.

( (AO3)

(story inspired by this post)

Plagg was bored, bored, bored.

He had spent the entire day cooped up in Adrien’s pocket as his Chosen went to the fair with his friends, with not even a short akuma attack for a break. Plagg had been unable to get out and stretch his paws and, to add insult to injury, Adrien hadn’t even brought any Camembert along because he had been worried about it smelling too much in the heat. Instead, he had bought Plagg cheese at the fair- gross, subpar cheese- and then continued on with his day as though nothing was wrong. Adrien and his friends had spent the whole day at the fair, from just after breakfast to long after dinner, and then as soon as they had gotten home, Adrien had crashed.

Without giving Plagg any Camembert.

Plagg scowled as he floated above the sleeping Adrien. The boy hadn’t even bothered to finish changing into pajamas all the way- he had shucked his day clothes and pulled on some loose shorts, then fallen face first into his pillow to snore the night away. Plagg had tried kicking him several times- if Adrien were in literally any other position, he wouldn’t be snoring at all- but it hadn’t even made Adrien stir.

So Plagg was awake, grouchy, and feeling more than a little vengeful.

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@jazzathebunnyDerek/Stiles The Sandlot AU. :)

Done for my anything crossover prompts!  And I know this canon! So this would have been a fun AU if I had done sandlot canon stuff, but instead I wrote this:

It’s not the worst thing that could have happened.

“This is the worst thing that could have happened,” Scott says, moaning into his mitt.

Stiles nudges him in the side with the tip of his bat, because it really isn’t. They could’ve beaned Jackson in the face again—which would have been hilarious, obviously, but also a pain in the ass, since Jackson would’ve finally gone and cried to his dad about all many times Stiles tries to take his head off with a baseball. It’s not Stiles’s fault that Jackson’s head is so gigantically swollen with ego.

Jackson says, “You know the rules, Stilinski,” smirking at him with his arms crossed. They’re all gathered at the back of the makeshift dugout, staring at the six foot privacy fence. “You fouled.”

Fouled so bad the ball went back and to the side, sailing over into Old Man Hale’s yard.

Scott says, “Worst,” again, and then wraps his arms around Stiles from behind in a hug, burying his face in Stiles’s back. “I’m sorry, dude.”

No one has actually met Old Man Hale, but everyone has met his dog.

His wolf-thing. His slavering hell-beast that is fifty times bigger than any dog should be allowed to be, with huge, razor sharp teeth and a snarl that has legit made Greenberg wet himself before. Stiles swears he’s seen its eyes glow red, when he’s gotten too close to the fence. There’s an ever-widening hole, it looks like it’s been constantly clawed at, and everyone fears for the day when it breaks through and kills them all.  

Not like that stops them from playing. They’ve only got six more months before they break up the sandlot for college, Stiles may hate Jackson with every last fiber of his being, but they’ve all been playing here way too long to give up this close to graduation—their unfriendly new neighbor is just going to have to suck it up, and then if the hell hound ever actually breaks through the old, rickety fence, they can just throw Jackson and maybe Greenberg at it and run.

Danny cups a hand over his eyes, looks up at the sky.  "Maybe we should just call it a day.“

Stiles pshaws.  They have at least an hour more of daylight, they’re on their last ball, and Stiles is totally going to go over and get it. He tugs at the bottom of his t-shirt and straightens his back. Totally. Right. He reaches back and pats Scott on the head before prying his arms off him and saying, “Tell my father I love him.”

Jared starts openly weeping, and Stiles winks at him and forces a casual saunter toward Old Man Hale’s yard.

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looniesnotbills  asked:

Can we see some of your writing? I'd love to see what these tips look like when properly applied.

Sure, I guess. I’ll throw a bunch of little snippets under the cut. Some is original fiction, some is not. None are the full stories, which will hurt a little bit because properly applied theory affects everything and build up is important. But. You know. Take what you can get. Some of these characters aren’t human and they play by different rules. Not all of these will actually be fight scenes and some of them are rough drafts. So, forgive grammatical errors.

A couple of these are original fiction and some are fanfiction, I’ve linked to the stories of mine where they originate from so you can check for context. My stance on fanfiction is always that while it’s not necessarily an end goal, it is a great way to practice writing a variety of different characters and practice exploration within a rule set you understand. When it comes to writing violence, understanding detail and the actions themselves are half the battle.

So here’s a piece with a non-human character:

He stalked across the deck, the soft soles of his boots silent on well-oiled wood. As Arlick stepped towards the rigging, Garret stepped forward and seized him by his sensitive neck, just below the base of the skull. A simple closing of his right fist was all it took to collapse the vertebrae. Arlick slid, eyes rolling back in his elongated skull. Garret shoved him forward. Tumbling over the side, Arlick’s body dropped into the stewing mix of black clouds below.

Easy come, easy go. Garret didn’t bother to track the naga’s fall. Instead, he dropped over the side and circled back toward the window. He had no fear of heights, not even while lacking wings in his human form.

If he knew Asra, she’d still be fighting with Wilks or taking her time putting him squarely under her thumb.

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I’m Still Here, part twelve

Title: I’m Still Here (12/14 chapters)

Authors: deliriumbubbles, jwmelmoth

Pairings: Kadam. StarKurt.

Sequel to Aftermath

Warnings: mental illness, PTSD triggers, homophobic slurs

Summary: After having survived a brutal gay bashing and the implosion of his engagement, Kurt tries to cope with the aftermath of a traumatizing attack as well as his former terrible taste in men. Now, Kurt finds himself with too many options, in theatre, school, music, and his love life.


Part Twelve

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submission: Turnabout Atsume

written by @famousinthatanonymousway

((i can’t believe i’m doing this. i cannot be l iev e t h i s. apollo is still at a law firm, and instead of a band klav works with more indie stuff in this. k i l l  m e. dedicated to shep and shoob and everyone else who enjoys cats and dumb, gay lawyers. with love, nandos.))


When he was a child, Klavier’s parents had allowed he and his brother a pet. Klavier had only been around five at the time, so his older brother had pulled the age card, and had chosen a wriggling golden retriever. 

It hadn’t really mattered to Klavier. After the initial adoption of the puppy, he’d gotten it into his head that any animal was allowed to be brought into the Gavin household. Klavier had a habit of dragging any strays that attached itself to him when he’d gotten home from school. Many a cat, dog, and amphibian had been turned down once presented to his mother and father, or worse, found when he’d managed to sneak it into his room.

It hadn’t mattered; as a child he’d loved animals, and taking care of Vongole had really only opened new doors when it came to his tolerance of how many he could handle at a time once he’d moved to Los Angeles and set himself up in his own place.

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