she's so brutal

Ok but I really want Neopolitian to come back in Volume Four.

I could imagine Ruby just kind of walking around in the woods by herself, just lost in thought, and then the camera looks over her shoulder and we just see Neo just standing behind her, their face just completely deadpan. Ruby does that anime thing where she knows someone is behind her and heel turns to face them.

And Neo is just. Standing there. Her parasol isn’t even on her shoulder, it’s just kind of dangling from her hand, the spike digging a little into the dirt. Ruby, not trusting this at all, draws her weapon, but Neo still doesn’t move.

And then, Neo reaches into her pocket and takes out her Scroll before extending it forward for Ruby to take. Ruby, after a moment hesitation, carefully takes it and looks at the screen.

It’s open on a messenger app, and in the typing field is this message:

“He’s dead because of her. I want in.”

And when Ruby looks back up at her, Neo is clearly holding back tears. “You mean Cinder?”

Neo’s face shifts into a deep scowl as she nods.

“I guess we need all the help we can get…”

learn to love | theo raeken

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

pairing: theo raeken x female reader

synopsis: theo is so broken that he’s incapable of love but y/n needs that type of reassurance from him.

warnings: angst. also, this is shit so read at your own risk.

word count: 619

a/n: this isn’t 13rw but my favourite show (teen wolf) is ending tonight so i’m crying and i needed to write something to cope with how much i’ll miss this show so yeah.

“I love you.”

The words left Y/N’s lips like a bullet, metaphorically killing Theo on impact. He stood there in the pouring rain for at least a minute before saying anything. He stared at Y/N, watching tears well up in her eyes as she awaited a response. He searched every corner of his mind in hopes of stumbling across the right words to say, but he just couldn’t seem to get them out.

“Um, I-“ And just like that the words caught in the back of his throat, and a tear slipped from Y/N’s eye and ran down her cheek. He wasn’t sure how he came to her house in hopes of having a date night, and ended up on her front porch being confronted about his feelings. But he was sure he didn’t like it.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Y/N’s voice began to shake and with that more tears escaped her eyes. “If you don’t care, just tell me.”

“I care, I really do.” Theo nodded, stepping a bit closer to Y/N and reaching forward to wipe the tears from her face with his thumbs.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sick of people breaking my heart.” Y/N sobbed, placing her hands over Theo’s, which were still cupping her face. “I’m so in love you and it hurts to know you don’t feel the same way, and I don’t think you ever will.”

She wasn’t lying. In fact she was being so brutally honest that it hurt. Theo had never cared about someone as much as he cared about Y/N. The feelings he had for her were stronger than those he had ever had for anyone else. He just didn’t know how to tell her, or how to express what he felt. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to tell her.

Those four letters she wanted to hear frightened him more than anything in the world. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but couldn’t seem to let his walls down. The truth is that he had been hurt too many times to count. He’d let people in, allowing them to see the most vulnerable parts of him, just to watch them walk away.

“Y/N, I really want to be with you and you know that.” Theo felt his throat tighten and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He knew that whatever he said in the next few minutes would determine his fate with the only person he wanted to learn to love. “Please don’t leave.” And that’s when he found himself crying as well. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Then say it. Prove it to me.” Y/N looked into Theo’s blue eyes with such hope. She just needed him to say that he wasn’t like all the other guys, that he was worthy of all the love she was willing to give. A long silence filled the air between them, and Theo tore his eyes from Y/N’s. That’s when she nodded in realization. She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to Theo’s tear-stained cheek before stepping away from him.

“Goodbye, Theo.” And just like that it was over. She turned around and reached for the front door, giving Theo one last look before walking inside and leaving him on her front porch alone.

He hated himself for not being able to tell her what she needed to hear. And she hated herself for not being able to love him without knowing he felt the same way. She just needed reassurance and he needed the same thing. But inevitably, they were both too broken to let go just enough to give the other what they needed.

Rules of the Game

Femslash Fridays with Izzy & A, Pt 9
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7| Pt 8

Feat. Pansy and Ginny, here to prove once again that opposites attract 

Pansy: Ginny. Against my better judgement, I am rather fond of you.

Ginny: [looks down, bites lip] I just wish you were there. 

Pansy:  [rolls eyes] That face isn’t going to work, you know. 

[This is, of course, a better tactic.]

Ginny: I’ll take care of it. 

[Weasley shoots, she scores!] 


[OOC: Aaaaand we’re back! Apologies for the hiatus, but wouldja look at that, we still have queer witch content for you <3 Tune in next week for more, & keep sending in pairing requests–we swear we’ll get to them ASAP! Feat. the always extraordinary @youvegotenoughnerve, per usual]

Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle

@mary-waitforit-lou: Maybe a From Hate to Love au, at first they can’t stand each other and then…

I asked for prompts a few days back and immediately felt the need to write this one. It’s a classical trope that I feel can be quite interesting. I received a couple of other ideas, that are already in store - some are meant to go later into my existing works. Thank you for inspiring me!

Scalpel & Needle (Part I)

“I’d be bloody thankful if you didn’t come into my OR like some kind of unwanted saviour and start to order me around!” Claire snarled, ripping off her surgical cap, her curls exploding in the air after sudden liberation, her hair bobble tearing with an audible “pop!”. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

“The patient was crashing.” Jamie tried to explain, remaining eerily calm in spite of the angry woman facing him, looking like a rattlesnake ready to pounce. “Ye couldna possibly deal with all those bleeders. I thought a second pair of hands…”

“I already had a second surgeon!” She hissed, pointing at the frightened young resident who had sought refuge against the wall, clearly wishing to be swallowed by it – and away from the two galvanized surgeons. “I was in control, using the technique I prefer! But you decided to come and show off, like some goddam star!”

“I was only trying to help, lass.” He grunted, gripping his fists. His blue eyes were dark and dangerous, tumultuous seas waiting for ships to wreck on their waves. “It seems to me ye have a bit of a problem admitting when ye need help and it’s perfectly…”

“Oh, you bastard!” Claire roared, advancing to face him – even though he had the clear advantage of his imposing height. “Don’t you dare call me “lass”, as you do to the young nurses, melting them away to do your biding. Stop pretending you know the first thing about me! You just want to please the board, so they’ll give you the most challenging cases!”

“I couldna care less about the board, Doctor Beauchamp.” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “Ye should be thanking me that the patient isna heading to the morgue - instead ye’re yelling at me like a mad banshee, because I wounded yer pride.”

Claire’s cheeks were throbbing with heat, her chest constricted with a fury she couldn’t even begin to understand. She raised her index finger and poked him on the chest, wielding it like a dangerous dagger. “Stay the hell away from me and my OR, Fraser. I mean it!”

Mallaichte bas! Fine!” He roared, raising his hands in exasperation. “I won’t meddle again, as much as I think ye might need it. Ye blind woman, stubborn as a mule…” And he reverted to clipped Gaidhlig, grumbling in a low voice as he strode down the hallway.

“Claire!” She heard the voice of her friend, Geillis Duncan, gaping at her with her mouth noticeably ajar. Claire was panting, her vision almost blurred from anger, as she contemplated James Fraser retreating with a cold satisfaction. “What’s this ruckus all about? Is something amiss?”

“Just my esteemed colleague, James Fraser, being an insufferable prick.” She glared at the other people surrounding her, frozen in contemplation of the spectacle, silently warning them to return to their own business. “I really don’t know how someone can be as egocentric, misogynistic, smug…”

“Well, don’t hold anything back, darling.” Geillis laughed, gently pushing her by the arm to a nearby resting room. “Yer feud with the man is becoming legendary. There’s probably people placing money to bet on yer next fight.”

“Someone has to show him he’s not even half as impressive as he fancies himself to be.” Claire puffed, filling a glass with cold water from the machine in the corner and drinking it down.

“Most people think him charming, Claire.” The nurse pointed, sitting on the small couch – a myriad of unidentifiable stains garnishing the old fabric. “A verra capable surgeon, kind and concerned with his patients, humble but with a sharp mind, and a brilliant sense of humour.”

“Damn Geillis, don’t you hold anything back either.” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. “One would think you very enthralled by the man.”

“Everyone – well, every lass and probably John Grey too – kind of is.” The redheaded girl gave her a mischievous smile. “That is one hell of a ginger fox, Claire. How can ye not want to ride that…”

“That’s quite enough, thank you!” Claire hawked and tried to tame down her revolting hair with her fingertips. “I happen to be immune to whatever spell he has been casting around here.”

“I just don’t understand why ye hate him so much.” The nurse looked at her with studying eyes, slightly biting her index finger, her nails a gaudy shade of pink. “Are you trying to conceal the fact that ye actually find him attractive?” She said in a soft voice. “I know that after Frank it’s hard for ye to…”

“Don’t.” Claire said in a serious voice, the shadow of a smile gone from her face. “Don’t say that. This has nothing to do with Frank. I just don’t see what you see, that’s all.”

“Alright, I’ll let the subject go – for now.” Geillis stretched herself like a cat and grinned, preparing to resume her work. “Drinks tonight at Leoch’s?”

“Sure.” Claire nodded absentmindedly, already studying her next patient’s chart. “I’ll meet you there after I finish my colectomy.”

“Behave until then, ye hear me!” She warned Claire, leaving her alone to face another surgery.


Claire opened her locker, blood pulsing rapid inside her vessels, so much so she felt the tidal waves of blood on her temples. Like she had foresaw, a lonely envelope was there, a bit crumpled after being pushed through the small gap. With shaking hands and a smile of anticipation, she opened it.

“It has come to my attention that you had a rough day. I’m sorry to hear it. I thought I would make it a little better – but this time I’m borrowing the words of a wiser man.

«My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth,

But when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me

And it opens for me all the doors of life.»

I hope to see it again soon. I shall miss your laughter every second you hide it away.

With l Yours,


It had started six months before. On a day when night had forgotten to go away, leaving everything immersed in shadows, rain pounding over the roof like a furious fist banging.

She had lost a patient that day. She recalled it vividly, because it had been the first since she had moved to Edinburgh. Not only that – it had been a young woman, with the same hopes and dreams that she had, heart broken into a million pieces but still hopeful. Losing her had been like losing a piece of herself, an entire world shattered away under the lights of the OR.

Claire accepted the sympathetic words of her colleagues, the gentle hands that touched her back, assuring her that not every battle was meant to be won. But she had lost – so brutally, so completely, so painfully. She walked to the locker room and bolted the door, allowed herself to cry on the floor, to sob until her heart had melted and gone away.

When she opened her locker to retrieve her things at the end of her shift, she had found a sketch there, pencil on paper like the tears on her cheeks. Someone drew a hand – elegant fingers with a thin wrist, which eerily reminded her of her own – holding a scalpel. And touching her palm underneath it, as if the fragile scalpel had been too heavy to hold on her own, a second hand helped her to hold it. The touching image – it had brought tears to Claire’s eyes – had been signed in a crooked handwriting. “Scalpel”.

The drawing had been on her nightstand since that day, a reminder that someone out there truly understood – knew – the loneliness of her work, the hardships she endured and how much she needed a presence to hold her when her strength failed her.

The second gift came a week after that – a pressed blue flower, perfectly preserved, clearly saved for quite some time between the pages of a book. Claire inhaled it, hungry for the perfume and words still trapped in it. A short note came with it – “Will you make a home for it with you? Scalpel”.

After a few weeks – time in which she had received poems, caricatures and photos of landscapes – she decided that her secret friend – for the mysterious person clearly meant to forge a relationship with her through those small tokens – deserved an answer.

She had scribbled it at home, sitting at her desk – the pressed flower next to her, on top of an organized pile of paper – and left it lodged on the door of her locker, where he’d certainly find it.

“Dear Scalpel,

I’m not sure why you think me deserving of such kind attentions, but I have to say you seem to read my mind! Not only I find everything you give me fascinating, but you seem to guess when I’ll need it the most. If someone ever told me I’d have a secret correspondent, I’d laugh and swear them insane. But in truth I find great solace in you and cherish every thought you spare me. Thank you for being a true friend – the more selfless kind.

Cla Needle

P.S. – Of course you know my real name, but it seems only fair that the both of us would have secret code names. I’ve been told to be sharp as one - and equally resourceful.”

And so their correspondence became two-sided. A week hadn’t gone by without a sign from him and Claire realized they were incredibly close – intimate, even. She had tried to suggest for them to meet and talk in the cafeteria – at least for him to reveal his name, so she could put a face on the person that meant so much to her. His answer had been concise and clear: “One day I’ll tell you everything. But not yet.”

Claire placed the note on her pocket, where her fingers could brush it – touching it, savouring it through the next hours. She headed for the pub to meet Geillis – blissfully unaware of Scalpel’s existence - wondering how one could be enamoured with a man made only of words on paper.

Playing Favorites: Plance Drabble

The diplomatic missions were one of the things he liked best about being a paladin. Right after, you know, piloting a giant mechanical lion robot in space. Seeing other planets, helping forge bonds that would outlive him by several millennia. Protecting people in a way that would last. Feeling like it all mattered.
The inevitably cute alien chicks were just one of the bonuses.

Keep reading

terf: -draws picture depicting violence against trans people- don’t take it so seriously lol. it’s just a picture! :) if you’re seriously that offended by it then get off the computer. its my personal opinion

trans person/trans ally: -draws retaliation picture in same vein, replacing trans person with a terf-  don’t take it so seriously lol. it’s just a picture! :)


aurum88  asked:

Hey! So I see a lot of stuff where Mica is this unbelievably brutal assassin and I was wondering if you shared this idea? And if so (or if not) what your thoughts were on her?

Yessss definitely! RL Mica is a badass so Mica the mercenary is my favourite version of her in the FAHC world.

Mica who had an excellent upbringing, had the kind of family line that’s too wealthy to ever go down for all their white collar crime, who could so easily have become a spoiled princess, could have accepted a silver spoon life full of luxury, but was never prepared to settle. Never willing to get by on anyone else’s accolades, to give up her own ambition, to follow the path anyone else sets out for her.

Mica who was always told she was too soft to make it big in crime, too sweet to survive the cut-throat underbelly, too gorgeous for the dirty work. Mica who relished in proving everyone wrong, who worked hard to become something worse than they’d ever imagined, who is unrelenting until she is not only a known mercenary but one of the bigger names in the business. One of the baddest reputations, the kind not even kingpins want to cross, the kind even the Vagabond treats with reverence. Until no one would dream of talking down to her, of accusing her of riding coat tails or getting lucky, of being anything but god damn dangerous.

Mica who gives up none of herself to get there – doesn’t fold to expectation, doesn’t trade out her designer clothes, give up manicured nails or perfect hair. Who doesn’t lose her sense of humour, her breezy attitude, finds no reason to brood about a life full of death when she’s the one who chose it. When her services are in such high demand she can charge whatever the hell she likes. When she’s so undeniably good at what she does not a single target has managed to evade her, adapting her methods, approach and appearance with a skill even the infamous Dollface admires.

Mica who has a sharp mind and a sharper tongue, known for her infallible plans and her utter refusal to take anyone’s shit. Mica who did her time being underestimated, who let them all laugh at her designer heels, her pretty curls, her tailored clothes until her actions proved her more than worthy of respect. Who will no longer settle for anything less than respect. Who has turned on any foolish enough to forget, any who think enough zeros on a pay cheque entitle them to say whatever they like, behave however they like, who never seem to see the inevitable coming until there’s blood on the floor and a stiletto at their throat.

Mica who worked alone, constantly on the move and strictly a freelancer, at least until the FAHC. Until she catches sight of their frontman in some bar, eyebrows raising when he flat out abandons some kind of meeting to come talk to her, flashing a bright grin that almost belies the cold dark look he uses to instantly silence the complaints of his angry companions. Mica laughs when he offers to buy her a drink, knowing he didn’t even buy his own, knowing exactly how this interaction goes, fingers already dancing across the knife hidden beneath her clothes, resigned if faintly disappointed. Imagine her surprise when she realises Gavin is just fond of defying expectation as she is, that he is friendly, is charming, yes, but all that enthralment is focused on her professional abilities.  On winning her attentions because of her skill, her reputation, the varied stories of her exploits invoking boyish glee rather than the standard lecherous approach.  

It’s the same with the rest of his crew, once he convinces her to come meet with them about some job, all those ruthless  criminals with more respectful civility than most law abiding citizens, who understand full well the kind of skills it takes to pull off the work she does and wouldn’t dream of trying to belittle her. The Fake’s are a crew unlike any she has worked with, a crew who seem to work flawlessly together without the usual exercises of a shifting pecking order, free of power plays and loaded commentary. A crew who knows how to play with the Vagabond without losing any fingers, who’ve danced with Dollface and kept their tongues. A crew who actually understands the meaning in fun, who think is neither requires nor prohibits abject cruelty, who aren’t afraid of a little blood. Who aren’t afraid of a lot of it. Who call a massacre a good time and never fail to gush over her more creative hits. Add Ramsey, a leader who never thinks his requests are beyond her abilities, who offers aid and additional compensation for the seemingly impractical but never assumes she isn’t capable, and there’s really no reason for Mica to turn down the jobs she is offered.

So she works with the FAHC, takes regular jobs for them, a happy alliance, a contractor on the payroll with no end in sight, but no matter how much it might seem like she has she doesn’t actually join the crew. Not for lack of interest, not like they haven’t asked a million times, but at the end of the day she has worked too hard for herself to ever fold into someone else’s hierarchy. Mica who will never bow to anything, to anyone, who crafted her own crown, a legacy built from the ground up, and refuses to be toppled from her throne.

okay folks time for renison for the ask meme (part two of anon’s request) let’s dive in


who is more likely to hurt the other?

i wanna say that they’ve transcended hurt and experience only love and peace for the rest of their lives but unfortunately…. allison…. is a bitch bless her

basically I think allison can be harsh when she’s upset and she tries to make sure that shit never touches renee but sometimes it does and she likes it when she can upset ppl bc it makes her feel strong again? but she also can’t stand renee hurting so it’s this constant discord. (but also renee pulls away so much to protect people and it hurts allison to see her go, sometimes.)

who is emotionally stronger?

they’re both absolute warriors lemme tell you. remember when allison’s boyfriend died and she pulled her hair back and got to fucking work?? remember when renee’s life was a vicious cycle of abuse and she took up a bible and started smacking ppl around with it?? BOTH of them could be sifting through their emotional baggage at 5 and kicking ass at 5:30 tbh

who is physically stronger?

renee,,,,, could kill you with her hands tied behind her back

she spars and LIFTS she is gentle and small and she has a six pack and she carries her gf to bed

who is more likely to break a bone? 

I can’t imagine anything getting the best of renee even like.. the ground… but also allison walks in towering heels 24/7 and has yet to bust her ass so maybe they’re both superhuman?? I feel like maybe renee would take things too far and break a pinky when she’s scrapping with andrew and probably dead-faced set her own finger and leave every fox……. shaken

who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

Allison can rip out every follicle of your hair if she’s in the mood, she’s neil with crystal earrings, just bc her mouth is all perfectly applicated peaches & cream doesn’t mean it’s not filthy

she never uses renee’s past against her though. never.

who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? 

I think renee is a LOT more willing to admit when she’s in the wrong, and her life is pretty much a balance of redemption and honesty so I think she apologizes very earnestly and seriously and allison basically snorts and tells her it’s forgotten and goes in for neck kisses

allison is a liiiittle too proud to apologize but when she knows she’s done BAD and when they’re alone & intimate in their apartment allison will come in crying and bare-faced and apologize and apologize and apologize

who treats who’s wounds more often? 

renee is scrappy and allison hates it but she’ll sit down for hours making sure every bit of renee is seen to, and she’ll neatly cover up renee’s bruises like she did for neil, quiet and sweet and methodical like she rarely is

who is in constant need of comfort? 

yikes it’s always both w our foxes man

I think allison’s loss is such a fresh wound in her mind and it’s so constant. She still feels so brutally undervalued for her talent and her ingenuity and her strength, and like. that gets bad. Renee’s loss runs deeper and harder and she can’t even think about it, most of the time. She’s making constant amends, but no matter how many times she prays before bed the nightmares still come. (so does allison, lighting sweet smelling candles and brushing renee’s hair back and kissing her face)

who gets more jealous? 

TOUGH bc I think renee projects this very ‘i’ve transcended human emotions and am an eternal sweetie with clothes knit from bible verses’ but she’s still very human and her girlfriend is very very hot and if one more man touches allison without her permission renee will take his hand off :))

who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 

okay… neither.. 

who will propose? 

I think allison would and I think she would spend 1 million dollars trying to make it unforgettable even though they could be collapsed on the court after a game and renee would say yes? they could be in bed or walking with their arms linked or having their weekly chinese food with dan and matt and renee would always say yes

(she proposes when they’re on vacation, at some european cathedral with streaming stained glass so renee can feel as close to god as allison feels to renee, and every pew is filled with a different colour of flower and a choir sings something ancient and sapphic ok bye)

who has the most difficult parents?


who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

it’s pretty equal on the PDA front they’re very affectionate ppl

like I imagine Allison w her hands in the pockets of her designer bomber jacket and renee slipping her hand in too and smiling like fucking summer just rolled in early and hung up its coat

who comes up for the other all the time? 

you know that post where allison calls renee ‘exy’s cutest goalkeeper’?? yeah.. picture that…. all the time

who hogs the blankets? 

you’d think allison bc she enjoys the height of luxury at All Times but it’s renee actually she nests it’s what she does

I think bc she’s so comfortable that she subconsciously lets herself take more than her fair share

who gets more sad? 

allison is more outwardly sad, and it manifests itself in a shade that’s almost angry, almost nothing at all

she hates that she never got to see what seth could have been and she hates that her parents don’t love her and she hates the sight of her own face sometimes

renee doesn’t let the darkness in but when she does she spirals, hard, and she can’t even feel worthy of the cross she wears or the friends she keeps

who is better at cheering the other up? 

allison is such a whirlwind that she can crush sadness under her stilettos tbh like if renee can’t quite get her serene mask tied at the back allison will come in with truckloads of food and a brand fuckin new rhinestone cross (it was the early 2000′s… leave them be) and Dan in tow, and they talk around renee until she feels herself enough to pay attention and actually… smile a real smile

renee is a soother and she knows how to fight bad moods off, so she can calm people down, but allison can pump them up

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

i feel like renee is more likely to just look very wryly and fondly at allison if she says something ridiculous, but allison would be more of a slapper

who is more streetwise?

LMAO uh renee. next

who is more wise?

renee has that kind of all-knowing aura about her like I bet she knows the weirdest shit. Allison is smart in a very straightforward, brisk, I know how to fix this or work this out way, but renee just. knows things

who’s the shyest? 

also hilarious allison will stare a stranger down until they cower and die and renee is the most soft-spoken kiddo on earth

like it’s more of a self-imposed restraint than shyness but the fact remains that allison is an extrovertTM and renee is always going to look calm next to her

who boasts about the other more? 

allison thinks renee is the best thing that’s ever happened and she will show renee off the same way she shows off her wealth tbh bc renee is PRECIOUS to her anyway

who sits on who’s lap? 

renee sits in allison’s for height reasons, and bc allison buries her face in her hair and calls her baby when she does and it’s this whole spectacle


Remy softly: If I put my mind to it-

Mae: South Newcrest is a small place, Remy. Guess what? I got a call from Steena. She seen you at the club last night. She said you were with Aimee, a girl from the block. And that both of you were all on each other and then you f*cked in a bathroom in the club. Aimee told everyone who would listen. So how is it you fixed shit with Lala? When you’re still being the same old Remy?

Remy stutters: I- Aimee- I went to Lala and I told her. Lala forgave me and we-

Mae: Listen, I don’t care who you f*ck. But I’m about to be a mother myself, bro. And I would hate for Chino to do to me what you do to Lala. 

Remy intense: I promised Lala I’d never touch another woman again in my life, Mae. 

Mae: Remy, it’s not only the women. Your issues go so deep. All of us. We all need counseling. But you especially. You need outside help to fix your pain. And until you get help…Remy, you’re no good to no one. Not Lala, not your son, not yourself. No one.

Mae sighs. She hated being so brutal with her brother, hated the look of sorrow and despair in his eyes.

Mae sighs: I’m gonna help Merchy with dinner. I hate fighting with you.

Remy speaks in a voice so low Mae could barely hear his words.

Remy softly: Yeah, we ain’t fighting, Mae. Don’t stress. Mae, can you tell Chino I wanna talk to him? When he can, can he come out here? You said- you said he could help me, right?

Mae gets up, turns her back to her brother, puts a hand to her chest. She struggles to keep her voice calm.

Mae: Sure. I’ll tell him. And yeah-I think he can help you.

more jewish GLaDOS headcanons
  • she has chell over for a pesach seder and sends chell off looking for the afikomen but never actually hid it just to fuck with her, so chell ends up wandering all over aperture science looking for a piece of broken matzah that never even existed
  • recruits neo nazis for testing just so she can brutally murder them
  • carves a magen david into the wall with a laser
  • gets into heated debates on how to spell hanukkah hanuka chanukah hannukah  חנוכה
  • refuses to make latkes for chanukah because Potatoes
  • quietly sings hebrew songs to herself when she’s anxious or sad
  • puts a mezuzah on the entrance to every single test chamber
  • says the hamotzi over cake
  • retells the story of exodus at pesach and names neurotoxin as one of the plagues

reblog and add ur own jewish GLaDOS headcanons if u wish (and gentiles feel free to reblog!!)

Stone Cold Heart - Minho x (y/n)

Hey can you do a longer imagine where Y/N has been a runner for a while and she has been stuck in the maze for a night and survived but her friend that was with her died. So now she is brutally sarcastic and stone cold. When Mihno comes up they don’t get along but the he finds her breaking down and comforts her, please!! BTW I love your writing. Requested by @fandomingforever.

Word Count: 2253

Warnings: PTSD mention


You were running like your life depended on it. In fact, it did depend on it. You were being chased by a griever and trying very hard not to slip and fall on the very large puddles of water spread around the maze. You thought back to how this had happened. You had thought you’d found a way out but it had just led to a dead end. Your partner had taken a different route and you told each other to meet at a specific spot. You were heading towards there but you didn’t spot him. Once you got there you spotted a limp body. You covered your mouth in horror. You looked towards the sky and noticed it darkening. The body moved and groaned. You gasped in surprise. The griever was coming right around the corner. Your first instinct was to run but then you remembered that your partner had displayed signs of life. You couldn’t just leave him. You dragged him to a nearby vine covered wall and shoved him underneath. Then you climbed in after him. He sat up and rubbed his head. You checked his body cautiously to make sure there were no griever stings. Luckily you found none. You held your breath as the griever moved past you swiftly. You turned to your partner. “What happened?”

“I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“The way out.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Where is it?” You asked shaking him slightly. He mumbled incoherently. You shook him harder. “Where is it?!” You demanded.

He opened his mouth to respond but was pulled back suddenly by a strong force. Suddenly he was face to face with a griever. “Run (y/n)!” He yelled.

You wanted to scream and yell, “I’m not leaving you!” Unfortunately, you knew how headstrong he was and how right he was. It was foolish to stay and get killed. The gladers had no use for two dead runners. Plus, you needed to get back to the maze doors before they closed. With a reluctant sigh, you turned and ran for your life. Drowning out the screams of your partner you ran and ran and ran, your vision slightly blurred due to the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. Finally, you made it to the maze doors to find them already closing. Your best friend Newt stood at the other end struggling against the grip of the other gladers to get to you.

”(y/n)!” he screamed. “Run!”

This seemed to snap you out of your trance while the maze doors were closing and inching closer together every second. You frantically ran towards the entrance only to have the doors close only seconds before you reached it. That was it. You broke down crying and screaming and banging your fists against the maze doors until they were bloody and bruised. You heard Newt putting up a fight at the other side, his screams echoing throughout the dark maze.

Present Time

Newt put his hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You turned to face him and nodded. He seemed to sense that your emotions were far from fine. He could only imagine the horrors you must have been through. Hell, he’d been a runner himself and he still couldn’t shake his nightmares away at night. He engulfed you in a warm hug, gently rubbing your back to calm you.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now. I know you’ve been thinking about that night but it’s all behind you now.”

“He knew where the exit was Newt. I could have sacrificed myself so he could live. So he could tell you how to get out of here. You could have all been safe. You never would have injured your leg. It’s all my fault.”

“Shhh. No. Don’t say that. He didn’t die because of you. I chose to do what I did. Nothing was your fault.” Newt said, trying to calm you down.

“Newt!” Alby called from across the glade. Newt’s head shot up quickly when he remembered that the box was coming up today.

“Come on.” Newt said, pulling you with him towards the center of the glade. You followed him and stood at the edge of the box waiting for it to come up. Suddenly the familiar rattle of the rusty old metal came into sight. The box opened to reveal a tall Asian boy with black hair. You stared at him and he stared right back. Your first thought was, “Boy does this kid have guts or what?” Most of the people couldn’t hold eye contact with you for more than a few seconds because of your detached persona and constant sarcastic comments. You were well aware of the reputation you had built of yourself. It was all part of the act you put on to tell yourself you were alright. If everyone thought you were normal no one would care to find out who was crying in the middle of the night. Not even Newt knew about your nighttime breakdowns. The kid kept on looking at you. You scowled at his face and turned away. You walked away from the box entirely. You watched from a safe distance as the others pulled the kid from his dazed state in the box and set him on his feet. He looked around. Surprisingly his face didn’t show any fear. He looked calm and knowing. You hated that stupid look on his face. In fact, you hated him. You didn’t know why but something about him seemed familiar and you didn’t like it one bit. He looked around and soon his eyes landed on your figure, sitting in the distance. Your eyes looked into his and he sent you a smirk. You hated that you flushed red at this. You looked away quickly. Soon Newt took the kid by the arm and led him away for the tour. You turned back around to get your tools so that you could continue your work in the gardens. Still, you couldn’t shake off the thoughts of the mysterious boy that were swarming and invading your mind.

Time Skip

The bon-fire had long gone out and the dying ashes were floating around in the dark sky as you took a seat on an abandoned log. The kid you learned was named Minho had done well in fighting Gally and had earned an impressed look from you but nothing else. You were sure if he asked about you that Newt would have already filled him in on all the details. They seemed to be getting close. You watched the glowing orange embers floating around your head and suddenly you were hit with a huge wave of nausea. Your head spun and the world around you blurred. You got flashes of a griever and your former partner. You saw yourself leaving him behind. You took a deep breath in. This happened frequently enough for you to know how to calm yourself down without needing the help or assistance of a medic. You always had the same vision. The same night. The same scene. It haunted you every day. This time it seemed a thousand times worse. Your breathing didn’t steady and instead became more and more erratic until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt like you were spinning and you couldn’t stop. You felt your body jerking erratically and thrashing. Everything became distorted and soon enough you felt yourself falling, falling, falling endlessly and you couldn’t steady yourself. Suddenly strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you up. You gasped and regained your breath. You panted heavily and put a hand over your heart to calm the racing organ.

“You alright?” a voice came from behind you. You turned around to see a blurry tuft of black hair. Your eyes came back into focus and you realized it was Minho.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You said. You turned around and curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth. Your legs were tucked into your body and your arms protectively wrapped themselves around your shivering figure. Minho didn’t say a word and instead of going away did the exact opposite and sat down right next to you. You sighed in exasperation at his boyish acts and scooted away from him. He scooted closer. You scooted away again. He came even closer. You emitted a low growl from your throat and kicked his shins. This time, he didn’t retaliate. You kicked him again and again.

“Would you please stop kicking me?” He said. There wasn’t a hint of angry in his voice and it confused you.

“Would you please stop… I don’t being so you?”

“Did you just ask me to stop being me?”


He laughed. You glared at him.

“Would you please stop being so loud?”


“Because you might wake someone up.”

“And… why is that a bad thing?”

“Because then we’ll be punished for being out of bed so late and you’ll have an excuse because you’re a greenie, but I won’t. They’ll ask me why I was out so late and no one knows about my little attacks.”

His eyes widened. “No one knows about it? Why not. You were in a dangerous position there. Your body was pretty much failing, that was the worse panic attack I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, I know someone is going to be a medic.”

“Medic? Nah. Newt said I’d probably be a runner.”

You snorted. “A runner? Huh. Didn’t peg you for that type. You know I was once a runner.”

“You were? Huh. Didn’t peg you for that type.” He retorted, mimicking you.

You gave him a serious look.

“I was the best runner in the glade.”

“Was?” He questioned.

“That panic attack I had was from when I spent a night in the maze.”

“You’re lying. Newt said that no one spends a night in the maze.” You shook your head.

“Newt always tells the greenies that no one spends a night in the maze because once they see me they’ll be all, ‘What happened to them?’ and once he tells them I once spent and survived a night in the maze they won’t want to be a runner.”

“Whoa. You’re the product of what happens to someone if they spend a night in the maze?”

“Probably. You might have a different experience. I saw my partner get eaten by a griever and I did nothing. It scarred me for life.” You sat sadly staring at the orange embers dying in the bon-fire. He stared at you. Then he shifted standing up and pulling you up with him.


“What do you say you relive your old glory days and race me?”

You laughed. “You wouldn’t survive, what with your broken shins and all.”

“What broken- ow. Cheater!” he said as you kicked his shins one more time. You took off to the other side of the glade as fast as your legs could carry you. The wind blew into your face and you were hit by another flashback. A good one. You remembered running around the glade with Newt chasing after you. You didn’t know who he was at the time but you remembered being entranced by his accent before realizing where you were and taking off into a sprint. This was a memory from a happier time. When you first came up in the box Newt had immediately taken you under his wing. Suddenly you fell and rolled to a stop right at the edge of the maze. Minho came up to you seconds later, panting with heavy breaths.

“Whoa… you’re fast.” He said with amazement.

You patted the grass next to you and motioned for him to sit. He eyed you suspiciously.

“You’re not going to kick me again are you?”

You let out a breathless laugh and shook your head. He took the seat. It didn’t take him long to start asking questions again.

“So after that night in the maze… did you ever try to run again?”

“Once. About three weeks later I ran with the other runners. I asked Newt if I should run again and he told me I didn’t have to but it was my choice. Later when I was getting ready, Newt wanted to come with me because he was still a runner back then. But I told him I was fine and ready. I wasn’t. I fainted near a wall near the tricky part of the maze. Luckily Newt was running at the time and he dragged me back.”

“You said Newt was a runner what happened?”

“He tried to kill himself by jumping off the maze walls but only broke his leg. That was the same day he was wandering around the maze and found me lying unconscious. When we got back both Newt and Alby talked to me. They thought I laid there specifically so that I would die. They thought I was trying to kill myself. But then I told on Newt and he got mad at me. We were on thin ice for a week before we made up and now I work in the gardens with him.”

Minho was silent for a while before he moved his hand to link it with yours. You looked at him but he still showed no emotion. You sighed and leaned your head against his shoulder. As you both lay there looking up at the stars you realized this was the most content you found yourself in a while. You decided you liked it.

I’ve Got You

Prompt request: Can I request one? Hydra targets Tony’s teen daughter. The agent waits for her after school and brings her to an abandoned house somewhere across town. But he’s also wanted by the FBI as a child predator. She realizes the shit storm she’s in when he has her against a wall and telling her the awful things he wants to do. He was so caught up in what he was doing he didn’t notice Bucky and iron man came in until a metal hand wrapped around his neck. She was able to activate her emergency tracker.

Characters: Tony Stark, Skylar Stark, Bucky Barnes, OFCs

Warnings: kidnapping, child predator, mentions of attempted rape

A/N: Thanks for the prompt request, and thanks for your patience!

One Shot Masterlist

Skylar threw back her head and groaned as she and her best friend left their prison behind.

“That test was so brutal!” she whined. “Why does calculus have to suck so much?”

Shari shoulders shook as she giggled, her natural hair bouncing off her shoulders. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at math?” she teased. “Being a Stark and all?”

Skylar glared at her friend and stuck out her tongue. “I got the literary genius, thankyouverymuch.”

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The fact that she is so brutally honest, no pretend, no lies, just her and the way she sees the world..I cannot help but to love that about her
—  FallingForHer
Soul Mate

‘Since Forever’

Chapter 2 ~ read on

Prompt:  Soul Mates. Words have never been Natsu’s strength. He’s more of a fight first and say sorry after type of guy. If he wants to confess to Lucy, he’ll have to learn, and learn quick how to express himself.


Her head still stuck on Natsu’s 'good thing you’re not too skinny’ comment, Lucy stomped out of the west exit of the guild. Letting the door slam behind her, she grimaced at the suddenly bright sun hitting her eyes. Screwing her eyes shut, Lucy vented to herself. Muttering complaints against both Happy and Natsu - she only stopped after walking into her dragon slayer.

It could have been anyone - but no one had the same exotic scent as her partner, nor had such warm skin. Who else smelled like a delicious campfire? Only Natsu. Lucy felt ashamed of her behaviour. But being ashamed was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

“Hey!” Against her better judgement, Lucy looked at her partner. “I’m in a hurry!”

“Me too!” Natsu smiled. An easy, wide, beguiling smile. “And you’re the person I need to see!”

“Even as fat as I am?” Lucy wanted to bite her tongue. Shit! Why had she blurted that? Gah! “I mean, too bad I’m not skinny.”

Cocking his head at an angle, Natsu focused on Lucy. “You gotta know you aren’t fat. No matter how many times Happy jokes about having issues about carrying you, you’re no where near my mass.”

“But you don’t think I’m thin!” Aghast at her stupid tongue, Lucy clapped her hands over her mouth.

“You obviously don’t know anything of what I think.” Natsu sighed. “What I care about is the real you, Lucy.”

Lucy realized Natsu had his hands on her waist, his fingers laying warm on the bare skin of her back. Voice shaky, she asked, “Why? I’m nobody special to you.”

Heat surged under Natsu’s skin, that had struck a nerve. Natsu looked at Lucy in disbelief. “…” He gulped in air and tried again, “You’re my partner!” Unable to hide the hurt in his expression, Natsu shook his head, trying to clear his brain. “How can you say that? Lucy.” Natsu shuddered and wound his arms higher, holding onto Lucy’s shoulders. “We’re like two halves of one person.”

Trying to pull away and failing, Lucy stopped fighting. Natsu’s warmth was a drug habit she needed to kick. If she couldn’t push him away physically, she’d do it verbally. He didn’t have it in him to give her what she wanted - so being brutal was her only choice. “No. We’re too different from each other.”

“Nope.” Assertive and brash. Typical Natsu behaviour - he ploughed forward. “You’re wrong. We’re the exact amount of different from each other that we need to be.” He let go of her shoulders, jamming his hands into his pockets and pulled out a folded square of paper.


“Yes!” Natsu nodded and grinned. “Isn’t it better being different? Having the qualities that the other lacks?”

“What are you talking about?” Despite herself, Lucy wanted to hear something sweet from Natsu’s mouth - even though that had a dismally low percentage of happening.

Natsu unfolded the paper, glancing at Mira’s long, long list of information. Brows furrowing, the tip of his tongue poking out the slightest amount, Natsu found the phrase he wanted. “Kindred soul, a person with whom one has a strong affinity, shared values and tastes, and often a romantic bond.” He wadded it up and put it back into his pocket.

In typical word lover fashion, Lucy parsed what her partner had said and skipped thinking about the context and instead defined the term. “Most people just say soul mates.”

“Yeah! That’s what we are!”

Lucy watched Natsu smile, his sincere happiness spread all over his face. All she could do was nod dumbly.

He repeated himself, “We’re soul mates!”

Tag Squad under the cut ^^ ~ lemme know if you want in or out ^^

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