I saw this post by @parfaitperi and thought what if these human version of the lions were aunts? and so I came up with these:


  • The aunt who is very spiritual.
  • Gives the best advice. 
  • She reads tarot cards as a hobby, 
    • She could easily make a career out of it. 
  • Has three crowns on her teeth because she loves sweet treats


  • The chill aunt who always speaks her mind.
  • No matter who’s around she doesn’t change the way she acts
    • It pisses off old people but makes her great with kids. 
  • She will buy random shit at thrift stores and flea markets and then make some amazing shit out of it.


  • The aunt that looks 10 years younger than she actually is. 
  • She always wears sunscreen and bug spray. 
  • Brags that she has never broken a bone (which is not true).
  • Gets away with a lot of shit because she looks innocent and is very sneaky.


  • The nicest aunt ever. 
  • Can literally fit anything in her purse. 
  • She once beat up an asshole at a bar. 
  • Anything will make her laugh, as long as it’s not offensive.


  • The aunt who is always traveling. 
  • No one knows what she does for a living. 
    • The top three theories are a professional athlete, lawyer, or a spy.
  • She loves postcards and will buy 30 of them from where ever she travels to send to her friends and family.
Love of the Second Star


One of the best fanfiction she I’ve read regardless of fandom and so well written and conceptually amazing


Jealousy Pt8

Word Count: 1521

    A/N: IM BACK WITH JEALOUSY! I needed to take a break to try to figure out where to take the story next, and here in these next few chapters a new kind of jealousy will be taking over. A darker kind, but of course I’ll keep up with the relationship drama lmao. Hope you enjoy! Much love!


Originally posted by bugheader

                                 • • •

    “Y/N! Tell me what’s going on now!” Betty yelled.

    “We don’t know where Archie is, he’s disappeared.”

                                 • • •

    “What do you mean he’s disappeared?” Betty whispered, shock rendering her almost speechless.

     "I mean Jughead and Fred have no idea where he is.“ Y/N yelled. Betty’s eyes widened, and Y/N immediately filled with regret. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, it’s just that I’m worried about him.” she apologized.

    “Don’t worry about it, let’s just go find him.” Betty whispered, taking Y/Ns hand and pulling her away from Pops.

                              • • •

    “Do we know the last place they saw him?” Betty asked, taking out her phone and turning on the flashlight to break the darkness of the school.

     "His house, his phone was left there.“ Y/N whispered, taking out her phones flashlight as well.

    "How do we know he still isn’t there? It is Archie, he’s been acting weird lately.” Betty asked, and Y/N shook her head.

    “Well considering Fred is looking for him too, I doubt he’s at his house.” Y/N said, slowly walking down the hall. Y/N stopped in her tracks, holding her arm out to hold Betty back as well. Betty gave her a confused look, and Y/N pointed down the hall to the only classroom with a light on.

    “Nobody is supposed to be here.” Betty whispered. “It could be Archie!”

     "Let me text Jug before we go over there, we don’t know for sure who it is and if something happens to us, Jughead will know our last whereabouts.“ Y/N said, opening her messages.

    "That’s a nice thought…” Betty muttered and Y/N rolled her eyes.

    “I know it’s not, but it’s the smart thing to do.”

Juggie <3: Betty and I are at the school and there’s a classroom that’s lit up like a Christmas Tree. We’re gonna go see if it’s Archie, stay in touch. ILY.

    “Okay, let’s go.” Y/N said quietly, reluctantly advancing down the hall. Slowly the blonde and the (y/h/c) made their way down the hall and Y/N stopped just beside the door.

    “Turn off your flashlights and stay here for a sec, I’m gonna see if I can peer in.” Y/N said, and Betty did what she was told. Y/N crouched down below the window on the door and slowly raised herself so she could see in. Inside she didn’t see much, just the normal desks and whiteboard.

Vvvvvvrrrmmm! Vvvvvvrrrmmm!

    Y/N and Betty both jumped at Y/Ns phone vibrating in her pocket, and she took it out and threw it to Betty.

    “Read it and tell me what it says, I’m gonna take another peek.” she said, and Betty nodded. Y/N slowly made her way up to look through the window again, but this time things were shifted around. Desks were moved to either sides of the classroom, and the whiteboard had writing on it and she tried to read it.

    “Y/N?” Betty whispered, trying to get her attention.

   "Shhh something happened… it could be Archie.“ Y/N said, waving her off.

    "We need to go, they found Archie!” Betty said, trying to back up.

    “They did?” Y/N asked, standing up and starting for the blonde. Before she could reach her though, the classroom door swung open and a hand reached out grabbing Y/Ns shirt.

    “Y/N!” Betty screamed, grabbing onto Y/Ns arm and pulling her towards her, but whoever that hand belonged to was strong.

    “Please don’t let me go Betty!” Y/N begged, trying to pull herself free from the mysterious hands grasp.

    “I won’t!” Betty sobbed, tears falling from her face and her limbs becoming weak from fear. The hand yanked on Y/N, tearing her from Betty’s grasp and causing her to fall into the classroom. The door slammed shut, and Betty banged on the door, yelling and screaming.

    “LET HER GO! OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT OR I SWEAR TO GOD!” Betty looked through the window and saw the words on the board, and she did her best to read what was written.

    “N-No… Pe-eking. No peaking.” She whispered, backing away from the door. She quickly grabbed Y/Ns phone off the ground and dialed for the sheriff when the door swung open again, and hand flying out and reaching for her. She quickly jumped out of the way, and a large figure appeared starting towards Betty. With the door open, Betty could hear crying coming from the room, and he decided the only way Y/N would be okay is if Betty went to a safe place and called for help.

    “I’LL BE BACK FOR YOU Y/N! I’M GOING TO GO GET HELP, I PROMISE!” she yelled, turning and running away. She heard heavy footsteps behind her, and she quickly burst through the doors of the school, continuing to run down the street. She dialed for Sheriff Keller and he answered.

    “Sheriff Keller I need you to come to the school right now!” She yelled, her breathing erratic and her voice cracking.

Betty, I need you to calm down and tell me what’s happening. What are you doing at school this late?” He asked.  

    “We were looking for Archie because we didn’t know where he was and so Y/N and I were searching the school, there was a classroom that was lit up so she went to go see what was happening and she was dragged inside and I could hear her crying and screaming!” she sobbed over the phone, and she heard shuffling on the other end of the phone.

    “Betty, leave the school building, we are on the way.” Sheriff Keller said.

    “I’m already out of there, just please hurry.”

                                 • • •

    Cop cars surrounded the school, the blue and red lighted illuminating the night. Betty stood off to the side, Veronica and Kevin by her side. Kevin was informed by his dad that Y/N was taken when the sheriff had gotten off the phone, to which he called Veronica who called Betty. Jughead, Archie, and Fred were informed, and were on their way.

    “Oh god, I hope she’s alright.” Veronica whispered, biting back tears.

    “I know. If only we had waited a little while longer, we would have known Archie was alright and we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Betty said.

    “What’s going on? Is she out yet?” Jughead called from behind them, running through the crowds of people. Kevin turned around and looked at him sadly.

    “No, nothing yet.” Jughead stood there looking broken, Archie and Fred coming up behind him. Betty looked back at Archie who gave a fallen smile to her, and she walked over and leaned her head against him. He wrapped his arms around her and she softly cried into his chest.

    “I’m going to go talk to the sheriff.” Fred said worryingly, starting for him, but before he took even four steps, a cop started to yell.

    “Someone’s coming!” A voice called through the crowd, and Betty broke free from Archie, everyone looking towards the front of the school. A sunken girl walked out, tears falling from her eyes but her face wore a blank expression. She slowly walked a few more steps in front of the school before she stopped, everyone not daring to move in fear whoever took her could hurt her and the crowd held their breath.

    “I have a message.” she called, her voice coarse from yelling. “Jason was only the beginning, I got out of it this time, but next time I won’t be so lucky. Jealousy courses through him for those who you will soon see dead, this is the only way.” she then stripped herself of her shirt, slowly turning around for the crowd to see. ’-J.K'was carved into her skin, blood running down her back and onto her pants and the ground. She turned back around, her face contorting into fear and she fell to the ground sobbing. Cops ran to her,  helping her up and moving her to the paramedics.

    “Y/N!” Jughead called, again pushing through the crowds of people to get to his girlfriend. Betty and Veronica both broke down, Archie stood there dumbfounded and Kevin was trying to wrap his brain around what just happened.

    “J.K?” He asked himself, trying to figure out what it could mean.

    “Jason’s Killer…” Cheryl said, causing everyone to turn to face her. Tears were streaming down her face, and she looked towards the ambulance, watching as Y/N was placed inside and Jughead was begging paramedics to let him see her.

    “Jealousy courses through him for those who you will soon see dead.” Kevin repeated, and everyone stared at him.

    “What the hell does that even mean?” Veronica sniffled, and everyone slowly shook their heads.

    “The only one who knows right now I fear is Y/N.” Cheryl said quietly, watching and Jughead climbed into the ambulance and the doors shut. It sped off, and police stormed the school.

    “They’re going to keep coming after her.” Archie said, looking around the group and then to Betty. Her quiet cries became louder, and Archie leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Tag List:

@do-not-call-me-sunshine @gelattoes @xbobaaa@katshrev@farmfreshcoldsprouts @sgarrett49@always-chocolate@nadya0128@spooky-brendons-butt @rainbows-and-glitter-bitch

Out of the Frying Pan (18/?)

She’d come back.

And invited him to Henry’s soccer game.

The kid had nearly hit his head on the crossbar, he jumped so high when Killian walked in with Emma, taking up position on the sidelines and cheering when Henry made a handful of particularly impressive first-half saves.

He did it again – diving to his left and coming up with the ball in his hands and a smile on his face and Killian felt Emma exhale against him, forehead pressed into his shoulder. “He didn’t break any bones did he?” she asked.

“No, love,” Killian answered, arm tightening out of instinct. “That’s his fifth save, you know.”

AN: @laurnorder is the BEST. Like. The BEST. She read so many of my words, it is vaguely absurd. 

Hanging out on Ao3 and tag’ed up on Tumblr

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Happy Birthday Mikasa!

Today is our girl Mikasa Ackerman’s birthday, and as is my tradition, here are some headcanons for our girl! 

  • Mikasa is the mom of the squad. It started off as just looking out for Eren and Armin, and then, as she got to know the others, she started to ‘mother’ them too. She gives great advice, is always an open and attentive ear for venting sessions, is a dependable DD 9/10 times, and is the one who makes sure that no one makes bad choices on her watch. Mama Mikasa’s got her squad’s backs no matter what. 
  • She’s actually pretty shy. While a lot of people don’t know how to approach her because she seems so cool and unattainable, she’s actually just a quiet, reserved person who would love to be a part of any conversation you bring up to her. 
  • She loves chocolate. 

Keep reading

Dazed and Distracted, Can’t You Tell? (GastonxFemale!Reader fanfic)

Dazed and Distracted, Can’t You Tell? Chapter 4 

Word Count: 1005

warnings: slight swearing, like one word and mention of death

tagged: @animeacetheheart @thesizeofabarge-blog @withouthannah @ciaprincess @the-fic-files @molethemollie @hobbithorse19 @supernaturalimagines666 @gawston @hellonheels-x @blackxthexbeast @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli

It’s a bit longer today!! Yay!!

For years you and he sent letters back and forth, you learned everything you could about the war and he was kept up with all the news in Villeneuve- not that there was much to report. You tell him if there was a particularly bad storm that flooded the crops, or if the baker came up with a new recipe or whatever else caused a stir in your quiet town.

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Practical Application

The first of our Quickie Fest teasers
Brought to you by my fabulous co-host.

Category: First time 
Disclaimer: Explicit content. This IS a smutfest after all.

Since I cannot enter, I thought I would help kick off the categories; a little literary foreplay if you will. So here is my contribution for the “Firsts” categories (appropriate, don’t you think?). PS: So proud of myself for keeping it at 700 words!!

“You sure?”


“Really? ‘Cause you don’t have to…but if you wanna…I mean…”

Hermione looked up at him rolling her eyes in a way that would have been off-putting to anyone else, but considering their history, and the fact that she was rapidly unfastening his trousers, Ron could think of nothing muggle or magical more arousing.

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Hello! 😀🐸😊🐸
Thank you very much for your lovely messages!
Gumby has read them out to everyone (because she is the best at reading!)
The Stickyfrogs send you all a very big kissie! 🐸🐸🐸🐸

lillythepug1  asked:

Eeyyyy imma slide in some gay for ya. Can I get some sweet Head canons for tracer, symmetra, zayara and mercy with a femS/O who's not comfortable in sexual situations but wants to share such an intimate activity with them. Please and thank with a cherry on top! ❤️🍒❤️


  • She’ll do her best to comfort you and ease you into it. She wants you to be ready and eager, not stressed about this.
  • If you decide to stop, she respects that wish. Lena lets you know that she’s fine with waiting until you’re comfortable.


  • She doesn’t want to rush this regardless, wanting you to feel comfortable and ready. She isn’t the best at reading the situation so she asks, not wanting to hurt you.
  • If you want her to stop, she stops no questions asked.


  • She doesn’t push but will just ask if it’s what you really want. She isn’t saying it to be mean or doubt you, it’s just something to take seriously.
  • She will reassure you if you go ahead, going slowly and making sure you’re comfortable before continuing.


  • She won’t push you for this but if you tell her that you want to do this she’ll do her best to make you relax.
  • She’s reassuring you through the entire time, making sure that you’re relaxed and eager.
Wake Up. Nessian fic


pt 1pt. 3

alright still not super juicy yet, but we’re getting there. i’m not gonna reveal what the fic is based on yet, there are only bits and pieces in it but it’s slowly forming. 

also i had to include some Fifty Shades action in there, what with Nesta’s love of romance novels, so that’s what the book excerpt is. (that part is slightly NSFW, but only barely.)

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I work at the lost and found and, does this thing seriously belong to you? au

This could not be happening. There is no way that this nightmare was actually coming true. No way in he-where the fuck is it?!

Dean could feel his heart pounding and face flushing as he dumped his backpack out for the third time and searched every inch of it to find what he had desperately been looking for, but it was no use. What he had been looking for was long gone, and oh, that wasn’t good at all.

Why did I have to put my initials on it? Out of everything I own without my initials, I had to put them on THAT?!

“What’s with you?” Jo plopped herself across from Dean at the lunch tables, her sudden appearance causing him to jolt up and watch just as she swept a piece of honey blonde hair away from her eyes, “You look like you’re gonna puke.”

He groaned and sunk his face into hands, “I think I might.”

“Are you alright?”

Oh yeah, totally. I’m fantastic. OH, wait…you mean besides the fact that I misplaced my butt plug?

“I just really need to find something I lost.” Dean raised his head, careful not to connect his worried green eyes with his best friends. She could read him like a book.

“Okay.” Jo sighed, “Are you sure you brought it to school today?”

“I am very sure.” I think USING it gives me enough certainty.

“Was it in your back pack?”

That’s where it ended up. “Yes.”

“Where was the last place you had it?”

“I…” Shit. I most definitely took it out…did I put it away? “In the bathroom.”

“What the hell did you lose in the bathroom?”

“Oh god.” He hid behind his hands again, as if it could take him away from the world.

Dean.“ Dean peaked through his fingers to find a knowing Jo looking back at him, her mouth hung slightly open, “Do not tell me you brought a sex toy to school!”

“Louder, Jo. I don’t think China heard you.”

“Oh my god!” Jo let out a chuckle and sat back in her chair, “Dean Winchester gets off by using dildos outside of the house. Who knew?”

Dean grounded again, “I’m going to be the laughing stalk of the entire school.”

“Everyone already knows you’re gay. I’m sure they have an idea that you like to frickle yourself once in a while.”

“With a bright pink butt plug that has my initials in diamonds on the tip?”

Oh my god!“ This time Jo actually laughed, hard, "No way!”

“I can always count on you to make me feel better.” Dean replied sarcastically, standing and grabbing his bag, “Are you going to continue to be an asshole or come support me as I face whoever’s in charge of the lost and found?”

“There is no way I’m missing this. Of course I’m coming.”

“On second thought-”

“I’m coming.”

Dean sighed loudly, and followed his way-too-eager friend out of the cafeteria and into the halls. It felt like the longest walk of his life. All he could think about was who would be across that desk, shaming him with judgmental eyes. To be fair, Dean had never lost anything in his life to where he even had to go to this part of the school, so nothing in the world could have prepared him for that set of blue eyes that slammed into him like a brick wall the second he rounded the corner.

“Can I help you?”

Holy shit. And that’s all Dean could think over and over again while examining the man behind the counter. No older than twenty, this man had to have been the most beautiful Dean had seen in a while…maybe even ever. If his blue eyes weren’t enough to stop a beating heart, then those lips would send him over the edge. Plump and curled up into a tiny smirk, they sat beneath beautiful, high cheek bones and a jawline that could cut glass. God, this was not fair. Not fair at all.

“Dean.” Dean looked over at Jo, who was trying herself to hide the blush that held her smile, “You wanna tell him what you lost?”

“You should get to class.” The man was looking at her, Dean hadn’t even realized that he had been staring at him until his blue eyes were de-attached, “If you haven’t lost anything that is.”

“I-Uh, no. Yes. Uhm, yes I’ll go.” Without another word, she was gone. Leaving a horrified football player alone with a man who he was desperately trying not to make a move on right now. He hated Jo at the moment.

“Dean, was it?” The man had a full smile now, and fuck, that was seriously a masterpiece in itself, “Can I help you find anything?”



“I mean…yes, but..” I must be the color of a tomato right now. Think of something to say, quick. “You work here?” Not that. Dumbass.

“I do. My name is Castiel, I’m also the part time librarian.”

Castiel. “I’m Dean.” He knew that. “You knew that.”

“I knew that.” Castiel smiled, placing his elbows on the counter and leaning forward so that he was closer to Dean, “I actually knew that for a while, Mr. Winchester. My little sister has quite the crush on you.”

“Littl- you have a little sister?”

“Anna Milton?”

You’re Anna’s older brother? She talks about you all the time!”

“Ditto.” He chuckled, “Like I said-”

“She knows I’m gay, right?” Dean said it easily, he wasn’t ashamed, but his face still gave way in splashes of pink, “I m-mean, that’s usually a turn off for most girls.”

Castiel smiled even wider, “Agreed. And yes, she knows. But she also knows what beauty is when she see’s it.”

Wait. Is he…is he flirting with me? Dean swallowed hard, feeling his stomach in butterflies as he examined Castiel’s small blush and smirk, Fuck. He is.

“Well, I do too, Cas,” Dean took a step closer to the desk, leaning on it himself so that his face was only inches away from the other man’s, “know beauty when I see it.” And, oh my god. That’s when it happened. If Cas’ face alone wasn’t the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen, then the way he bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling was something he couldn’t even describe.

Blue eyes bore into green ones for long seconds, until they traveled down to freckled laced lips, “I have a question, Dean.”

“Yes?” His mouth had never been this dry before.

“Is this yours?” And there it was, almost in slow motion, as Cas placed what Dean had been looking for on the desk. And if it weren’t for the fact that he was already leaning on the counter, he would have fallen by the way his knees became weak when Castiel whispered, “Please say yes.” Hotly into his ear.

“Yes.” Dean whispered back, letting out a shaky breath, “T-That’s why I came in here.”

“Mmm.” Cas leaned away, to Dean’s displeasure, and handed the item to him, “You should be more careful with that.”

All he could do was stare down at his hands at it sat there. That’s it? The guy came onto him, and expected Dean to just leave?

Dean looked back up and jumped slightly, Cas was no longer behind the counter but in front of him instead, “It’s cute, your little toy.”

It’s really hot in here. Dean thought, because honestly, he couldn’t speak even if he tried. Not with the warm feeling of how close the other man was now.

“But,” Castiel continued, grabbing Deans hand and slipping a piece of paper into it, “I think I can provide something for you that you can’t leave lying around to be lost.”

Dean only swallowed and nodded slowly in response, causing a low chuckle from the blue eyed man. And they stood there like that, both too close in a comfortable silence. Whoever might have walked in would have thought this was the weirdest scene to be displayed, with one man holding a butt plug and the other smirking only inches away from him, but neither cared. Because, god. This was fucking hot.

Dean finally cleared his throat, “I should…”

"Get to class?” Cas finished, and because he was an asshole, he winked, “Maybe you should.”

“Okay.” After a few more long seconds, he finally stepped away, “Okay. I’ll, call you. Definitely.”

Castiel smirked, “You do that.” He stepped back around the counter, “Have a nice day, Dean.”

For just a few moments ago dreading to walk into the room, Dean was now dreading the steps it took to take him out. But he took them, and you know what he did? He threw that damn toy in the trash. Because he had a new one, waiting for him, just one phone call away.

I really wish a publisher somewhere would ask Maggie Smith to do an audio book. She did Mary Poppins and Pinocchio in the 60s, but having had the utter privilege and pleasure of hearing her read “Christmas Eve at Mole End” from The Wind in the Willows tonight at the RTF’s Christmas Festival, I think it’s almost a necessity now that she records a whole book sometime soon. Also, she has the best reading glasses ever! Black with red arms/temples, which incidentally matched her outfit selection of black top and trousers with a red jacket.

tehsmolone  asked:

(Starter) The restaurant usually wasn't this busy on a Monday. She had many jobs to do and did not feel like doing any of them. Everyone ordered the same thing. *insert random food*

(Somewhat AU)

Pyrrha smiled apologetically as she came through the double doors again. Judging from the pained grimace on the cook’s face, she could already guess what was on the ticket.

“More pancakes?”


With a sigh the long suffering woman picked up her whisk again. Pyrrha glanced at the clock and her heart swelled for the chef. They weren’t even halfway through service yet. Passing the paper over to the kitchen staff, a pair of familar magneta eyes scanned it and smiled softly. 

“Those are ready.” Ren nodded towards three seperate stacks of pancakes. “Good luck.”

She flashed him a smile as backed through the double doors and into the bustling front once more.  


If you had asked Pyrrha Nikos to picture her summer a few weeks ago, the idea of waitressing in a restaurant wouldn’t have crossed her mind. Summer had descended on Haven and with it Beacon’s students slowly disappeared to spend time with their families., which left team JNPR in a somewhat unique position. They decided that whatever they where going to do, they would do it together.

So when Jaune got a call from home asking if he would be able to come back and help with the family business over the summer everything seemed to fall into place. With most of his sisters being older, they’d gone on to build their own lives. It seemed they where going to be short staffed for a while. So, instead of one pair of hands, they got four.

The Arc family restaurant already had a superb chef in the form of Mrs. Arc, but Ren had found his calling in the kitchen, his calm demeanor being the eye of the culinary storm. Nora, being a lot less delicate but equally determined to prove herself had all but demanded to be outside drumming up business, and it seemed her fervant energy was contagious. The restaurant was packed and only seemed to be getting fuller.

Which left herself and Jaune, along with two of his eight sisters to handle the tables. Honestly, she could say she was having fun. The fast pace enviroment kept her on her toes and provided a challenge. Asides from other certain adavantages…

Taking the tray to the right table, dancing around a group of customers on the way, she set the three plates down and following some pleasantries, excused herself to take another order. As the group decided, Pyrrha spared a glance at the blonde figure standing head and shoulders above everyone else in the room.

There was no denying it. Jaune looked good in a shirt, and here his entire demeanor changed. At Beacon he could be filled with doubt, but here his confidence shone through. Jaune dolled out charm between taking orders and directing herself and and his younger siblings.  Under his guidance, they just about managed to keep up with the obscene amount of customers Nora was managing to bring in.

It seemed leadership became him.

The redhead snapped back to reality as the table started listing off their orders, jotting them down as best she could. Reading it back, one of them must have noticed the slight questioning tone in her voice as she checked they nearly wanted three stacks of pancakes.

“Yeah, the ginger girl outside said the chef made the best ones in all of Remnant…" 

The rest was lost to her as Pyrrha smiled and shook her head. Of course she had.

Window Seat

Reid x Reader

Dr. Spencer Reid is a man of particulars. Just about everything in his life can be neatly categorized, defined by his preferences. There’s his favorite shop to buy coffee from, his favorite way to order coffee (with three packets of sugar and extra whipped cream), his favorite station to catch the Metro from, and his favorite Indian restaurant just off 3rd Street. The most important of these however, is the library. He’s a frequent visitor to the DC Public Library, and in his many years of patronage, he has determined the exact best place to sit and read. The overstuffed armchair is older, worn, making it a little more comfortable to sit on. Unlike the other chairs, this one has long since been tucked away behind a bookshelf, out of the way. Most library-goers don’t even notice it. That side of the bookshelf is empty, making it perfect for kicking up one’s feet on, or balancing books – or even case files – on. The window just above the chair is at an angle so that it offers the perfect amount of sunlight to read by, but doesn’t create a glare. Never has he had to vie with anyone else for it, the armchair is always empty, waiting for him.

Until today.

He stops in his tracks when he turns the corner and finds his favorite place occupied by a young woman. A hefty stack of books is on the floor beside her, making it clear she doesn’t intend on vacating the spot anytime soon. Reid is aghast, shocked that someone else has discovered that the out-of-the-way seat is precisely perfect. He’s irritated, but there’s nothing he can do. He takes a seat in a nearby, lesser, chair, and tries to relax. Every now and then he swears he can see the woman looking his way. Smiling. Gloating.

The next time he goes to the library, he arrives a whole hour than he usually does, deciding to forgo his usual evening coffee run. The lack of caffeine is worth it when he finds the armchair open, and he has to stop himself from practically running over to it. Each of the ten books he’s brought are lined up on the shelf, and Reid settles in happily to claim his rightful place in the library. Not twenty minutes later does he hear footsteps making their way over, and then abruptly stopping. Sure enough, when he looks up, it’s her again.

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he wonders if she recognizes him as well. The woman looks him over once, and then sits down in the same chair he was relegated to previously. When she’s engrossed with her book, Reid peers her way. If he’s going to have regular territorial disputes over the armchair, he ought to know his enemy. She looks to be around his age, in her late twenties or early thirties. The cardigan hanging loosely from her shoulders is at least two sizes too big for her, and her hair is thrown up in a loose bun, rogue strands falling past her ears. Her backpack gives no indication what her profession might be, nor does her dress, but he can make out the titles of the books she has with her.

The World History of Street Art and Graffiti. Art Spiegalman’s The Complete Maus. The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh. Love in the Time of Cholera. Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

The variety doesn’t help him. Is she an artist? A historian? An English major? Or just someone with widely varied tastes in reading material? All he is certain of is that she doesn’t read as fast as he does. Then again, nobody reads as fast as he does.

Two times the following week, he sees her. The first time, he has the chair. The second, she has beat him to it, offering him a smirk when he arrives. The second time is different though. The woman leaves five minutes before the library closes, though she’s previously stayed the entire time. When he walks towards the doors himself, the library whispers his name. All the librarians seem to know him by now.

“I have something for you,” says the gray-haired woman. Her spectacles hang from a beaded lanyard, swinging back and forth as she goes to get something from the back desk. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but somehow he’s surprised to see it is a book. And not just any book. Resurrection, one of the few Tolstoy works he hasn’t read. Today alone he finished re-reading War and Peace and The Death of Ivan Ilych. “I was told to let you know it’s ‘from the young lady who also enjoys the window seat.’ I’ve already checked it out on your card.”

Had she been looking at his reading selections as well? He’s stunned by the gesture. “Thanks Mrs. Atkinson,” he says, adding the book to his messenger bag. It is finished by the next morning, and he has to admit, the woman has good taste.

The pattern continues with each meeting. When he claims the chair next, he asks the librarian to give her the copy of IQ84, as she’d nearly finished The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and the expressions on her face as she read told him she was quite a fan of Murakami’s writing. They pass books back and forth via librarians, like some new form of the pony express. Or perhaps it’s more like carrier pigeons.

A week and a half later, he’s startled to find she seems to have broken off the communication, when she fails to leave him something the day she beats him to the window seat. But when comes back the next day, he discovers she has merely found a new way to talk. The book is sitting on the empty bookshelf, a notecard on top of it.

It says: I thought I would give our librarians a break, but here’s your consolation prize for getting here after me. It’s about a boy trying to solve a mystery, and his interests are as varied as the sorts of books you read.

Reid picks up the novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer. Never has he read it before, but twenty minutes later he wonders how he could’ve possibly missed this book. It’s only then, when he finishes it, that he looks up and realizes that the woman he’s come to think of as Library Girl is watching him with a smile. He wants to wave, but is that allowed? They’ve never exactly acknowledged the presence of the other, save for trading books and silently fighting over the chair. In a compromise, he gives her a small smile, and returns to his reading, all the while wondering what to leave for her this time.

What began as an inconvenience has now become some sort of amusing competition. Every time he goes to the library, he finds himself excited. Will he get there first? Or will she? What book will she leave him this time? What will she think of the one he last left for her? At this point now, that friendly competition feels something like a friendship as well. He doesn’t feel peeved at the prospect of sitting somewhere else, and after going to the library. What once was a crucial part of his routine now takes a backseat to this new occurrence.

Studying her is like reading a novel, and in a way he supposes they are becoming a story of their own. Book after book left like an offering on an empty bookshelf, little notes scrawled from a stranger. Funny, kind, sincere, sweet; a wide range of moods can be found on those little messages, and he remembers each one. The same way he has catalogued every dress and cardigan he’s seen her in, memorized her little habits and quirks, created a mental library of the books and genres she loves the best. Does she read him the same way? Some days he looks up and finds her quickly averting her gaze, or will notice her throwing him one last glance before she leaves. And in those moments, he thinks he sees something like longing. As though these little trades are no longer enough for her, as though she’s considering saying hello to him the same way he’s imagined doing so a thousand times.

Perhaps the most interesting of their exchanges comes after he leaves her Ulysses, assuming the classic will keep her busy for a while. When it’s her turn to leave a book, he finds one from the art section. Postsecret: Confessions on Life, Death, and God. The note attached tells him it’s one of her favorites, and she hopes he will find it interesting. And he does. The concept is fascinating, all of these people mailing their secrets to a stranger on the back of a postcard. It’s the ultimate anonymous confession, nobody needs to know who it’s from or exactly what it means. Aren’t these confessions, in a way? They’re baring their souls to each other in the form of their favorite literature.

What would her secrets be? What is she like? What makes her laugh, what makes her cry? He wants to know, wants to have more to profile than just books and behavior. He wants conversations, wants long talks and honesty and her name.

Reid resolves to finally speak to her. But the next time he’s there, she isn’t. An hour passes. Two. The library closes, and she doesn’t show up. Already he’s confused. In four months, she has never been absent. Every Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, she is there at the library. Perhaps, he thinks, something came up. Perhaps she is on vacation, out with friends, sick, staying late at work. It’s only one day. Nothing to worry about.

But on Saturday she’s missing as well. Reid stays there for six hours, and she doesn’t show. Now he’s worried. The next week, he goes to the library every single day. Every evening after work, he sits and waits for her. Always leaving the armchair by the window open. This is one point he’s willing to concede, bargaining with the universe, hoping that if he gives up that chair, maybe tonight will be the night she comes back.

She doesn’t. A second week passes, and he’s terrified for this stranger, this woman whose name he doesn’t even know. Why didn’t he ask for her name? Why? Because now she’s gone and he might never get a chance to ask. Not once has she missed a single one of their thrice-weekly library encounters. What’s happened? Being a profiler, his mind immediately jumps to the worst of conclusions. She was abducted on her way home from work. She’s being held in a psychopath’s basement, chained to a wall. She was murdered by a sexual sadist. Shot. Strangled. Dismembered and tossed into the Potomac River.

No, statistically those things are far less likely. That’s what he reminds himself of. She’s probably just busy. Maybe she’s going to a different library. Maybe she just doesn’t want to see him again. But he can’t shake a sense of foreboding, because whenever he finds something that makes him happy, it’s snatched away from him without warning. And this person was definitely beginning to make him happy. In the smallest of ways, the smallest of joys.

Now she too is gone. Reid is tempted to ask the team for help, plead with Garcia to track this woman down. What is he supposed to say? I’ve been meeting with this girl three times a week at the library. We’ve never even talked, and I don’t’ now her name or what she does or where she lives, but she hasn’t been to the library this week and I’m worried something is wrong. That would be ridiculous. There is no proof, no evidence, nothing to go off of. Other than her notes, he has no way to prove she even exists. Can he even call Library Girl his friend? They feel like friends. He knows what books she loves, that she will read just about anything, that she notices the people around her. She sometimes takes notes between pages, writes in a little red journal, smiles to herself from time to time.

But he doesn’t know her, not really. It’s best to forget about her, to move on and assume that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. People leave all the time. They don’t all keep coming back to the same chair in the same place for months on end. Reid tells himself it doesn’t matter. Besides, he’s unconventional… relationships… before, and they never end well. This isn’t even a relationship. It’s just two people who happen to share a preference for the same things.

But then why does he want to see her again? And where has she gone?

Constant Interruptions

Pairing: Klaus/Asana

Requested: @thenatlovesyou

Summary: As a doctor, Asana is helping Amelia through her pregnancy and has wanted to bring the topic up with Klaus for some time. Each time she tries to talk about it with him, she is interrupted and eventually they have a fight. Klaus, upset that Asana can easily talk to her friends about important things but is scared when she comes to talk to him. 

Originally posted by paradisefotografias

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adventuresinastrangeworld  asked:

What does Clover like to do for fun? What is her favorite kind of book to read? What is something she does when she's feeling indulgent? TELL ME ALL ABOUT HER.

clover likes to write (totally not self projecting) and has a big ol book full of poems and prose and song lyrics and diary entries. also she just likes to be outside. she likes reading fantasy best, especially romance bc shes a sap. when she’s feeling particularly self indulgent she might go pick up something yummy from the baker and have a little picnic by herself near one of vesuvia’s many waterfalls since those are a thing there. if she’s feeling it and she’s certain no one is around she might go for a dip in the water assuming its not plague infested

The Signs as Things That Happened to Me When I Was in High School
  • Aries: sending one of my friends into an unfathomable rage simply by mentioning the book “Like Water for Chocolate”
  • Taurus: going to Saturday school and playing Slender on the school’s computer
  • Gemini: discovering the library had almost every volume of “Gravitation”
  • Cancer: turning a data analysis of one of my science projects into a fanfiction about Obama traveling through time
  • Leo: riding down a hill in a shopping cart and landing face-first on the pavement
  • Virgo: getting lectured right at the beginning of class everyday by my animation teacher for a good 20 minutes about the importance of “not wasting any time in this class”
  • Libra: playing Cards Against Humanity and having a teacher overhear me say “snorting coke off a clown’s boner”
  • Scorpio: getting transferred out of an AP english class right before i had to give a presentation i hadn’t even started on
  • Sagittarius: incorporating the first Homestuck recap onto the rough draft of my final essay
  • Capricorn: completely bullshitting my final paper -- i’m talking like full on staying up until 3 am typing absolute bullshit, pulling up sources from whatever i could find, and barely making the minimum amount of pages needed -- and then getting an email from my english teacher saying it was the best paper she had read
  • Aquarius: making a clay model of what was supposed to be a cactus, but it just ended up looking like an upside down penis
  • Pisces: eating a big spoonful of what i thought was chocolate pudding only to realize that it was actually refried beans

76 yo Grandma stands up for Trans Youth

On the transgender day of remembrance, My grandmother (DeeDee) reads her letter to the New York post at Massapequa high school for a community event. Her letter is in response to a highly transphobic article. The ending is the best where she stops reading and makes a beautiful speech! Please share this. Make a change! 

anonymous asked:

So I was reading some good old Woodsman fanfics, and I came across one that implied that the Woodsman's consciousness was born from Dippers magic, but it was so small that it couldn't really do anything and that it was Hendy's soul that nurtured it to the point of being self aware enough to eventually become a separate entity in Henry's body. Would that technically make the Woodsman the son of Dipper and Henry? (Dipper would be the dad and Henry would be the mom)

Oh my god.

Mabel asks Henry and Dipper this once. Especially since she just read the best TS mpreg W/A ever.

Dipper spews his drink out all over the table. Also fire. Then blood tears start to form because what did he do to deserve this, really, seriously?

The blood drains from Henry’s face, and he’s getting light headed and then proceeds to drop like a felled tree and faints on the floor.

(The kids got this on video. All according to keikaku)