sometimes on the way to the dream you get lost and find a better one

this ask meme is based on the blog gravesuggestion.  i’ve divided it up into two categories  ( light  &  dark )  based on the themes.  some of these can be somewhat triggering seeing that the darker ones deal with a lot of death mentions.  please be cautious before continuing on!!

L I G H T

‘  at night i dream of you.  ’
‘  don’t give up yet.  you still have time to fix things.  ’
‘  falling in love with someone else is not a personal attack.  ’
‘  i am still so weak when it comes to you.  ’
‘  i can’t believe i let myself let you down.  ’
‘  i don’t care where we go when we die,  as long as i’m with you.  ’
‘  i dream of saying to you all the words i held inside until it was too late.  ’
‘  i feel so warm  &  safe when you talk to me.  maybe i could love you if you’d let me.  ’
‘  i finally let the right people in  &  i have never felt so loved.  ’
‘  i like the way your nails paint red stripes along my spine days after you’re gone.  ’
‘  i lived in your permafrost for twenty years  &  then you looked at me  &  i felt the warmth of spring.  ’
‘  i once wished you’d leave me alone,  but i take it back.  ’
‘  i want to be able to love someone else,  but you stretch your arms  &  spread your legs inside my heart so that there is no room for anyone or anything else.  ’
‘  i want to believe that we got it right this time.  ’
‘  i wonder how much longer i can cling to your light before it expires completely.  ’
‘  i would travel across the world to be by your side,  because as long as you are with me,  anywhere is a perfect place to me.  ’
‘  it took me awhile to realize it myself,  but you are not what other people say you are.  ’
‘  it’s not that i really need you,  but life would be pretty boring without you around.  there’s no one i would rather be with.  ’
‘  i’d like to stay like this for awhile.  ’
‘  life  &  death don’t have to be so boring,  let’s make both an adventure.  ’
‘  life imitates art,  they say.  i didn’t believe it until i started to notice the way your eyelashes look so much like tiny ink stroke.  ’
‘  live your life so that when you die,  souls will come for miles just to hear your historic tales.  ’
‘  make your exes jealous  &  your past self proud.  ’
‘  maybe you’re what i needed to find in order to move on.  ’
‘  never get caught falling harder.  they’ll never let you back up.  ’
‘  please don’t go.  ’
‘  some days it’s easier to just stop fighting it  &  succumb.  ’
‘  sometimes,  you’ll find it hard to keep going,  but you always will.  ’
‘  the desire i feel for you is that same itching,  insidious hunger that an addict has for their addiction.  ’
‘  the worst thing about you is that you weren’t all bad.  ’
‘  there is absolutely nothing  &  no one who can stop me.  ’
‘  there is no route of losing you that is without pain.  ’
‘  there’s still room for adventure  &  there is no one i’d rather have by my side.  ’
‘  things didn’t turn out the way i planned,  but i’m alright with that.  ’
‘  we could be really incredible together,  you know?  ’
‘  you are beautiful  &  vibrant  &  confident.  you are light  &  laughter incarnate  &  every fiber of your being screams freedom  &  joy.  when i am with you,  i am truly happy.  ’
‘  you are starlight incarnate,  from the grand way you sway your hips to the wide mysterious way you think.  blessed are any to be loved by you.  ’
‘  you are too afraid of the future to let go of a past that was never kind to you.  ’
‘  you call me yours  &  i have no idea what that even means to you.  ’
‘  you remind me of bubblegum  &  sweets;  soft  &  pink  &  warm.  you are strong in the gentlest way.  you are so stubbornly kind.  i wish i could be like that.  ’
‘  you still visit me while i sleep sometimes.  your fingers trace my spine  &  i listen to you breathe.  please stop haunting me.  ’
‘  ‘morbid curiosity’ is a wonderful way to describe how i feel about you.  ’

D A R K

‘  a thousand empty bottles  &  fist fights will never return to us what we lost that day.  ’
‘  everyone else has moved on,  but i am still here.  ’
‘  everything about you screams danger.  ’
‘  everything is worthless to you  &  you,  in turn,  became worthless.  ’
‘  for once in my life i want to be surrounded by people that i don’t feel like i need to impress.  ’
‘  freedom is really hard to get used to.  ’
‘  how could you do this to me?  how fucking could you?  ’
‘  i am becoming everything we always dreamed of  &  i am leaving you behind.  ’
‘  i buried you so well that you might as well have died.  ’
‘  i can rest easy knowing that the person i love is dead  &  not the monster you became.  ’
‘  i can’t look at you.  not now,  not ever.  ’
‘  i don’t ask how you’ve been.  what’s the point?  you’d lie anyways.  ’
‘  i dream of hearing the words i so desperately needed to lay your memory to rest.  ’
‘  i haunted this house first.  there is no room for you here.  ’
‘  i have a right to be upset.  i loved them too, you know.  ’
‘  i just want it to end.  i want it to all go away.  i want to go away.  ’
‘  i may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing,  but a snake hiding in the skin of a mouse is far more dangerous.  ’
‘  i saw your face today  &  didn’t feel anything.  i am free.  ’
‘  i tried to save you,  but you didn’t want to be saved.  you just wanted someone to suffer with you.  ’
‘  it’s almost as if you were never here.  ’
‘  it’s unhealthy to do these things,  you tell me.  you say it’s time to stop smoking,  time to stop gambling,  &  dammit,  i f you don’t stop drinking it’ll kill you.  i sure hope you’re right,  darling.  ’
‘  i’m always pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to kill you in my mind  ’
‘  i’m not really scared to die.  i’m more afraid that no one will miss me when i’m gone.  ’
‘  i’m not the person you left behind anymore.  there’s no one here to miss.  ’
‘  i’ve been dead far longer than i’ve been alive.  ’
‘  i’ve eaten nothing but flower petals  &  ivy for weeks because i want to be beautiful inside like you.  ’
‘  i’ve never been completely satisfied.  i most likely will still be unsatisfied long after my death.  ’
‘  no motive other than pleasure,  my dear.  ’
‘  one day i’ll go or you will.  either way,  it will be as if i’m losing a piece of myself.  ’
‘  our dreams  &  promises decay along with you.  ’
‘  the leaves change,  but nothing else does.  ’
‘  the only difference between avoiding  &  leaving is that now i’m not waiting up for you.  ’
‘  there is no such thing as a person who is required to love you.  ’
‘  there’s only so much that can be done to repair old damage.  ’
‘  things aren’t going as i hoped.  maybe if i die,  i can start over again?  better luck next time.  ’
‘  this is not something to be proud of.  this is a tragedy.  ’
‘  trying to get rid of me?  oh honey,  you’ll have to try much harder than that.  ’
‘  trying to get under my skin?  you’re nothing more than a pesky itch.  ’
‘  unlike you,  i can’t hide my identity when it becomes an inconvenience or a danger.  ’
‘  weeping is for gods  &  martyrs,  we cannot afford such luxuries.  ’
‘  would you even miss me?  ’
‘  you are not important enough to earn an eternal place in my heart.  ’
‘  you complain nonstop about being unloved  &  alone,  i can’t imagine what you’d be like if that were actually true.  ’
‘  you don’t know what it’s like.  ’
‘  you made this so fucking easy for me.  ’
‘  you should see me as a threat.  i will tear down everything you know until there is nothing left of you.  i am a walking threat.  ’
‘  you think i’m already gone,  but i’m still fighting.  ’
‘  you think i’m dead,  but i’m just dying.  ’
‘  you were never an addiction,  you were a fucking disease.  ’
‘  you wouldn’t dare cross me.  i am god  &  you are the soil beneath my feet.  ’
‘  your existence takes up so much more space in mine that we might as well be one entity.  ’
‘  your fingers are so cold  &  bruised,  but you’re still slamming your fists again the barricade as if it makes a difference.  ’
‘  your hair is tied in a noose  &  your fingernails are razor blades,  your lips are poison  &  i will gratefully kiss them.  ’
‘  your hatred has a body count  &  we will not forget.  ’
‘  your loss,  not mine.  ’
‘  you’re a sick fuck.  you know that?  ’
‘  you’re not gentle with me  &  i would never ask you to be.  ’
‘  you’ve trapped yourself so thoroughly in your own mind that it’s not even a rut anymore,  it’s a pit.   ’


Studio Ghibli Sentence Meme
  • “Now I have something I want to protect. It’s you.”
  • “I’m not afraid to die!”
  • “You cannot change fate. However, you can rise to meet it, if you so choose.”
  • “They say that the best blaze brightest when circumstances are at their worst.”
  • “Fear and anger only make it grow faster.”
  • “I think I can handle it.”
  • “Here’s another curse for you - may all your bacon burn.”
  • “Don’t worry! Stay right where you are, I’m coming to get you! You’re gonna be fine, I won’t let him hurt you.”
  • “I need something of yours. How ‘bout your eyes?”
  • “We gotta get out of here! We’re gonna get in trouble!”
  • “You, you sabotaged me! Look! Look at what you’ve done to my hair! Look!”
  • “No more killing. It has to stop!”
  • “You sound ghastly, like some 90-year-old woman.”
  • “Guys, don’t take that food! We’re gonna get in trouble!”
  • “Fight ‘em! C’mon!”
  • “Smile so we can make a good impression.”
  • “We each need to find our own inspiration. Sometimes it’s not easy”
  • “I finally get a bouquet and it’s a goodbye present. That’s depressing.”
  • “Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living.”
  • “Sorry, it looks like you’re involved.”
  • “Oh, my baby! Are you all right? Are you emotionally traumatized?”
  • “Now I’m trying to look inside myself and find out how I did it.”
  • “Leave before it gets dark.”
  • “Once you do something, you never forget. Even if you can’t remember.”
  • “Cut off a wolf’s head and it still has the power to bite.”
  • “It’s all so familiar yet I know I’ve never been here before. I feel so at home.”
  • “Now I’m trying to look inside myself and find out how I did it.”
  • “I suggest you surrender. There is no ship coming to rescue you.”
  • “I had no idea that my rage could drive me to kill.”
  • “These days, there are angry ghosts all around us - dead from wars, sickness, starvation - and nobody cares.” 
  • “A heart’s a heavy burden.”
  • “Please! You must stop!”
  • “Well, well, well… hello kitty.”
    “You can’t be busy - you’re five!”
  • “So you say you’re under a curse? So what? So’s the whole damn world.”
  • “ I have really had enough of your incredible stupidity.”
  • “Lamebrain! They made an escape! Now step on it!”
  • “I didn’t want them to kill you.”
  • “It’s fun to move to a new place. It’s an adventure.”
  • “Welcome the rich man, he’s hard for you to miss. His butt keeps getting bigger, so there’s plenty there to kiss!”
  • “You shouldn’t be here! Get out!”
  • “He said Mom was ugly, now go get him!”
  • “Kill him and you’ll be famous.”
  • “I’ve seen him do this once before when a girl dumped him.”
  • “S/He’s alive. There goes that dream.”
  • “That was the night I died.”
  • “I’d rather be a pig than a fascist.”
  • “You don’t remember your name?”
  • “Don’t be afraid, I just want to help you.”
  • “Poor kids. I’ll really miss them.”
  • “I don’t fight for honor. I fight for a paycheck.”
  • “ No, No, No! Don’t do this! Help! Help! Crazy lady with the shovel!”
  • “She was once quite beautiful, so I decided to pursue her, then I realized she wasn’t, so then, as usual, I ran away.”
  • “You’re in love. Don’t deny it, you’ve been sighing all day”
  • “She never woke up again.”
  • “You blubber heads! I’m not runnin’ a luxury cruise! Now get to work!”
  • “Why does everything that’s good for you have to taste so bad?”
  • “Whatever you don’t want me to clean, better hide it now!”
  • “This is our little secret. You tell anyone and I’ll rip your mouth off.”
  • “I give up. I see no point in living if I can’t be beautiful.”
  • “If I lose my magic, that means I’ve lost absolutely everything.”
  • “ It’s… you’re scaring me. I have this weird feeling you’re going to leave. ”
  • “There’s a demon inside you.”
  • “Don’t get alarmed but I’m being followed. Act normal.”
  • “Don’t worry, I’ve got four-wheel drive.”
  • “This is what hatred looks like! This is what it does when it catches hold of you! It’s eating me alive, and very soon it will kill me!”
  • “Smooth. Very smooth. You definitely know how to make a good first impression.”
  • “Everyone fears their own mortality.”
  • “Play with me or I’ll break your arm!”
  • “I gotta get out of this place. Someday I’m getting on that train.”
  • “Wait give us a minute! This is clearly harassment.”
  • “Why do fireflies have to die so soon?”
  • “There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.” 
  • “When you’re going to kill a god, let someone else do your dirty work.”
  • “Why did you stop me from killing her?”
  • “When I saw you, I just wanted to find a way to protect you.” 
  • “One thing you can always count on is that hearts change.”
  • “Tell me while you’re still alive!”
  • “This is a tomb for the both of us.”
  • “If nobody comes in, I’m gonna have to eat pancakes forever and be fat, fat, fat! And what am I supposed to do about that?”
  • “Even if you were a woman, you’d still be an idiot!”
  • “What do you say we give 'em a little demonstration of how fast we can run, huh?”
  • “HAM!”
→ nudes, not flowers | 01

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

☆ pairing → Hoseok x reader x Jungkook

☆ genre → smut || fuckboi!au

warnings  public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!junghope, demeaning names during sex if you aren’t into that, jealousy

☆ word count → 5.5k

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps 

 ↣  01 | 02

a/n; …. why tf did i do this to myself!!! (this is just smut that i had to split into two parts rip)
anyways tagging @kstopping @gxtsmxt @thotmi bc nothing says i love you like a junghope smut am i right



Keep reading

Married with Benefits (Part 12)

Summary: In order to not pay out-of-state tuition, you ask your friend, Steve Rogers, to marry you. Things, as always, never go as planned. (College AU)

Word Count: 861

“Married with Benefits” Masterlist 

Originally posted by skywalkersleia-archive


He ignored Bucky’s calls on his way back, his mind only focusing on you. Steve wanted to be close to you, wanted to hold you, wanted to be with you. There was no one else, there never had been. Sure, he had dated a few girls in college, but you had always stuck to the back of his mind and he was positive his relationships had been purposely tanked by himself because of his feelings for you.

He snorted. Personal sabotage. Who knew?

He opened your photo message again and looked at you, marveling at the sheer beauty of you. You were angelic, from your acne blemishes, to the small chicken pox scar you had under your right eye.

Keep reading

twitter bios

speak your mind even if your voice shakes

tell me a lie

you were a masterpiece, but then everyone saw you

I smell autumn

yes I function with out a heart

my mom won’t like you

please do not touch

there are so many types of art but {name of idol) is my favourite

seize the day

fragile, handle with respect 

I was the perfect roe that drowned

happiness is a great colour

you eventually will run back into it 

keep your heart closed but mind open

qualified meme-ster

ambitious

s/he was so artistic painting smiles on every face but her/his own

did s/he forget to love

ask no question and you’ll get no lies


people change quicker than you think

society is an ugly burnt ass cracker

how many secrets can you keep

only fools fall for you

meme queen

everything I ever loved, I lost in the magic

seek joy, embrace joy, share joy

if you don’t build your dream, someone will hire you to build theirs.

autumn kills summer with the softest kiss.

no tears for the creatures of the night

you will let go

the colour yellow is really under-appreciated

im a petty bitch

Im a golden thread; fragile but valuable 

a little bit of sugar, but a lot of poison too

confusing reality with dreams

and I will fight even if I break 

smile

fuck im broke

give me a sign

you’re one of a kind and no one understand

make your life a story worth telling

in conclusion, im bitter

but one day I’ll stop falling

(idol name)’s the tear in my heart

im soppy and emotional so stay the fuck away

yikes

have I fit into society yet?

is this any better?

create you’re own path to an adventure 

I let you out, and everyone saw

send memes

glazed donuts 

late nights, red eyes

entertain my faith

*instrumental*

sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind

I’m Fiji water, you are toilet water

see good in all things

we rise by lifting other

oh no, not you again

you still have Facebook?

you make me emo

just keep going

but do you know my aesthetic?

wheres the leak ma’am 

be like spongebob, create fire in the ocean

can life go back to when I didn’t understand it

How do I silence my sins

I will burn again

did I give you permission to break my heart?

red blood, black heart

dear society, do you accept me now?

a thornless withered rose

a touch of gold

fuck you I don’t care I failed

aesthetic mind

my brain is 80% song lyrics

im at the top but I still don’t see you

left me in the dark

stars fall and the world goes blind

sorry mom I promise to never be a a bad bitch

if you’re lost just look for me

dismayed mind

fuck of weirdo

home is where the art is

keep your dreams close to your heart

teach me your contour blending ways

find a way to be yourself

first you find yourself

let me glow bitch

I don’t want seconds

take on life like a swan; calm and serene on the surface, but paddling like hell underneather

(idols name) fills my heart

mom can I be savage now?

do ya thang

neither lost nor found

have a positive mindset

im honestly a troubled kid looking for dank memes

don’t look back, chase whats in front

no thanks, I don’t want leftover

I want to create

a black cloud in a black sky - nobody notices

oops sorry I spilled out my heart

I found the heart, but its empty

did I leave a stain on your heart

I thought this was eternal

buy me food pls

I asked for the word, and you bought me a carrier bag

sorry only dark humour is accepted 

you made it this far kid

you’ll probably love me 

too lazy to socialise 

I found my happy ending

————————————-

This went REALLY well last time so I thought I would try it again (idc if this failed miserably its 2am)

p>

like or reblog if use :)

————–


what should I do/make next? 

creds to @httpmisfitx if use
I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
our little family pt.6 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

AN: Ah…the final part. I just want to say thank you for all those who have read and stayed with me through this lovely journey of writing OLF and being super supportive of the story. I tried my absolute best to wrap it up in the nicest way possible (but just a tad disappointed with my writing :/ ) however again thank you so much and enjoy! 

You tied your messy hair up into a ponytail, attempting to get the small, distracting hairs out of your face as you started to take out things from the refrigerator to make Jieun and yourself some lunch.

Hearing small footsteps behind you and a voice call out your name, you turned around from the countertop to see Jieun standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hands rubbing her droopy eyes as she stared up at you, resembling that of a long, lost puppy.

A warm smile spread across your face as you exclaimed, “Hey, look at you, you’re up!” as you lifted the little girl into your arms and spun her around, eliciting small giggles from her mouth before setting her down on the kitchen countertop.

Your eyes glanced towards the time before looking back at Jieun, “Do you feel hungry? It’s almost lunch time.”

She nodded quickly, a big smile spreading across her face when she asked, “Can we eat cookies? I really liked your cookies last time!”

You giggled as you pinched her nose softly, “Uh-huh, you can’t eat cookies for lunch now, can you?! How about we make some macaroni and cheese and then we’ll bake cookies for snack time later? Does that sound like a good idea?”

Her eyes lit up at that as she grinned, “Mac and cheese?! That’s my favorite! Daddy makes it for me all the time.”

“Well then it’s up to you to pick who’s Mac and cheese you like better okay?” you teased, as she nodded happily before whispering to you, “I think you might win Ms. L/N. Daddy sometimes burns the cheese and it turns all black and gooey.”

You laughed at that before saying, “Well, I guess it’s time to teach him how to properly cook huh?”

“Or Ms.L/N could come live with us? Then you can cook delicious food for me and daddy!” Jieun exclaimed, an innocent smile on her face.

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mirandatam  asked:

Hm... something about Rey and the ghost of Shmi Skywalker?

Rey is 273 days on Jakku when the woman with the dark eyes and the faint lines around her eyes bends down, and helps her wash the dust and debris from a hyperspace drive port. (Two and a half portions, never let it be said that Rey doesn’t know her worth.) “There,” the woman says, and when she smiles the lines around her eyes carve even deeper. When Rey drags the brush over the drive port, no sand kicks up. “Shiny and new. Go on, now—you can’t let him run out of portions.”

“’m Rey,” Rey says, breathless, clutching the port to her chest.

“Go!” the woman says, and Rey runs. She gets in line just in time to get the last three portions from Unkar. But when tries to find the woman after—

The sand is empty of sentients, and no one seems to know the human woman with dark hair, darker eyes, not even when Rey wanders among the camps and asks for her. Rey is only 273 days, and hungry, and so she eats there, squatted down in the sand outside someone’s tent—scarfing down half-mixed portions because she’s dizzy with starving, and she can’t wait. If the dark-haired woman wanted some, she should have been easier to find.

Rey sleeps that night full—or, at least, what she thinks is full—and dreams of a wattle-and-daub hut, and a woman with dark hair, dark eyes, laughing. The woman’s son sits with sun-bleached hair, his mouth is skewed as he works on a droid to help his mother with the customers that come. Rey helps too, and when he smiles at her, it feels like coming-home.

They are so happy, and Rey wakes crying, even though that is water she cannot afford to lose.

.

“No, not that one,” the woman says, and Rey drops the part like it burns her hand to touch. She whirls around, and there is the woman with the dark eyes, dark hair. She’s smiling, a little bemusedly, at Rey, at the specific part Rey was trying to extract from the mess of decay and rust.

“What’s wrong with it?” Rey demands. She is six hundred and seven days now, and she thought—

“Navigation systems are fiddly,” the woman says, stepping towards her, and then she is there, close enough for Rey to touch, to—“Biologic growth damages them first, interferes with the electro-magnetic signaling. This has—” she grunts, and the part comes away in her hand. “This has overgrown. It’s not worth installing again, it’ll just send the ship off-course trying to follow all those awful fractals.”

“What good does that do me?” Rey asks, thinking of all the portion she’s lost, if this stranger is right. She’d just wanted—

But the stranger smiles, and her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Come on,” she says, lowering herself to sit on the durasteel floor of the mighty star destroyer. “I’ll show you a trick my unscrupulous master showed me, on how to make it look as though tech has never been damaged.”

Rey spends the whole afternoon with her chin hooked over the woman’s soft shoulder, watching as she shows Rey how to reroute, undo, lay down new electric pathways. She smells like something sharp, the way Rey has always imagined ozone would smell if Rey had ever found the courage to leave the atmosphere. Her eyes are older than her face, that much Rey knows for sure.

“There you go,” the woman finally says, pressing the piece into Rey’s hand. “Good as new. Plutt won’t even be able to tell the difference, so you shouldn’t accept less than five and a quarter portions—”

“What about you?” Rey asks. The woman is warm, and alive, and human, and Rey finds herself hoping she’s her mother. Just to have something, someone. And especially her, with her crinkled eyes, the way she rests a hand against Rey’s cheek like—

“Oh, I’m fine,” the woman says, and Rey’s heart falters. “You will be full, on five and a quarter portions. That’s enough.”

Rey eats alone, eats until she is sick on constituted bread and meat, and she lies in her own bed biting down on her fist to keep herself from crying.

.

Sometimes, Rey looks out of the corner of her eye, and there she is, the woman with the dark hair and the dark eyes. “Hello, Mother,” Rey begins greeting her at some point, muttered in between breaths as she extracts another part, as she wakes from her midday nap in the shadowy berth of a star destroyer, as she forces herself to stay longer, work harder.

Sometimes, she hears someone murmur, hello, daughter, but she’s not sure. She’s not.

.

Poor affection-starved Rey, longing for a family, any family, even a ghost. Even the vague shape, even a shadow. Even the hint of a mother, whispering in her ear, droids have always been harbingers of good news, of better things ahead. Strangers may be angels. You are more. Run, go. I will follow you there.

Rey  isn’t sure, really, but in the barracks of D’Qar, Rey tosses and turns, until a cool hand comes to rest on her forehead, her neck. Shhh, a voice that is not quite the Force but might be something similar, whispers. It strokes its cool knuckles over the rabbit-pulse of her jugular. Shh, rest. You have a war to fight in the morning.

Shh.

 Shhhhhhh.

.

Luke has holos of his family—Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru Whitesun-Lars. But it’s the holo of their their step-mother, Shmi, that stops Rey in her tracks, stops her breathing at all. Anakin’s mother, Luke says, but Rey is holding onto he lightsaber too tightly to hear.

I know her, she says, and Luke goes still, blinks. 

Oh?

She used to—sing me lullabies, Rey says, because that’s all she can remember just now, the dark-haired-dark-eyed woman—Shmi Skywalker, chosen to be Mother of the Living Force, blessed, holy—humming in Rey’s darkened AT-AT. Shmi singing in Huttese; warm and calloused hands, a rough voice singing of how much she loved, would protect—

Luke catches Rey before she hits her knees, gathers her up to his chest. Shh, Luke murmurs, stroking her hair as Rey sobs. Shhh, it’s all right. Everything will—it’ll turn out right. It’ll be—it’ll be right.

Rey feels a cool touch at her forehead (impossible, Luke’s hands are hot at her waist, and—) and she sobs again, feeling hollow, feeling like she’s come home, somehow, impossibly. It is a war, she shouldn’t feel….

Shh, Luke and his grandmother whisper together, cradling Rey against the bulwark of light they represent. Shh.

anonymous asked:

can you do a what kind of gf each sign is

Aries: the adventurer, she will be your human alarm clock and morning coffee all into one, she will tease you a lot and say ‘just kidding!’ at the end of it, she is very touchy-feely, warm and has a heart of gold. her love is priceless and strong. you’ll wake up with her in a tent in a foreign country as she sleeps nosily next to you and you’ll pull her in closer with a smile on your face.

Taurus: the poet, the one that relates every song she hears, movie she watches, and poem she reads, to you. she cares for you like no other with every empathetic bone in her body. she will love you through the very roughest of times. you can never win an argument against her though. when she is sad, when she is happy, when she is angry: everything she says will sound like a poem and you’ll wonder how you got so lucky.

Gemini: the kitten, 
she will make every day different, her kisses will slow time, her laugh will echo through your bones and sometimes you will get annoyed that she is so loud but when she is gone, the silence will feel like torture. she is playful and erratic, she studies you every day and leans you slowly. she guards her heart like a game but gives you whispers of walkthroughs in her smile.

Cancer: the daydream, the one that isn’t afraid to tell you how much she loves you every single day. will avoid confrontation like the plague. she will want to do every romantic thing in the book with you like slow dance in the kitchen at 2am while you make dinner together. she could write you a novel about the little things she loves about you that no one else even notices. she feels like home.

Leo: the pleaser, she will want to share her life with you, will be very open, loving and generous. her friends become your friends. will not stop taking selfies of you two together though. she will indulge in your happiness. she will make time for you through her busy day as if you two are the only sole survivors of an apocalypse. she will protect you from the things she had to endure.

Virgo: the submissive, likes to pretend she is tough and in control but she is willing to do anything you ask of her tbh. she likes to make you happy and see you smile. she wants to be your best friend and the love of your life at the same time. she can get snappy when she’s having a bad day but most of the time is very chill and humorous. she’s the type to drop all her work and show up for you when you most need it.

Libra: the mediator, the intellectual, the flirt. she will wake you up with rose petals but make you chase her all day. she loves to just talk to you 24/7 and keep the peace. she’s the type to plan a busy day for the both of you tomorrow but she won’t wake you up because she thinks you look too perfect and you’ll both spend the whole day cuddling instead.

Scorpio: the warrior- will never want to leave you no matter how badly you treat her but can make your life a passive aggressive hell instead. she will respect you, always listen to you and court you- she’ll want to tell you her deepest pains at 3 in the morning while you sleep as if you are her own personal diary. she’s the type to show up in the rain at 2am after a fight and angrily kiss you without saying a word, it’ll feel like heaven and hell collided.

Sagittarius: the traveller, she’ll travel your mind in ways you never thought someone could- she’ll ask just the right questions to known you better than you know yourself. she always knows what’s wrong and she always knows what to say. she’s the girl to tell you how it is, she doesn’t live in a fairytale but she makes reality seem like a dream. when you lay in bed with her at night you’ll be pinching yourself to make sure.

Capricorn: the teacher, she’ll teach you how it’s like to live as her, she’ll teach you how to be a better person. she’ll teach you so many things about yourself that you feel lost without her. she puts her walls high, but she expects you to make the effort if you care about her. she is deeply romantic and compassionate: her love with soothe any pain you face throughout your days and she’ll teach you that you’re never alone in anything you do if you have her.

Aquarius: the stranger, she’s so wonderfully unique and insane you’ll never find a love like hers again. she’s like flirting with a stranger on the train. she’s the most interesting conversation you’ve ever had. she’s like a once-in-a-lifetime photo captured, right in front of you. she will detach much like a stranger, then go all in like you’ve known her your whole life. she’ll make you question everything about love and it’s purpose, you will decide it is painful and strange, and yet you will still fall madly for her.

Pisces: the princess, once you slay the dragon and make her yours, she will sacrifice a lot for you and work to keep you happy. she will introduce you to her perfect dreamland and provide a place at the throne. to her, you are royalty and she treats you like you are irreplaceable. she is a princess: graceful, friendly, strong. she loves to be loved, by you, and everyone. she dreams of a prince who can make her feel as loved as the heroines she constantly reads about.

anonymous asked:

hi! do you think you could maybe possible perhaps write a soulmate!au? pretty pretty please?? (if you do - thanks, and if you don't - thanks for all of your other fics)

i heard you were looking like the moon

a/n: i decided to go with the ‘you don’t see colour until your soulmate touches you’ au. thank you so much for this anon, and i hope you enjoy it

She’s seven when she decides that the colour she’s most excited to see is purple. She’s watching a documentary with Petunia, sprawled on the carpet in their mediocre, three-bedroom house, watching the TV, enthralled. There are a pair of pretty people, holding hands, gravitational, lovely, and utterly in love. They are describing colour with a glistening film swept across their eyes, tainted by disdain, this supercilious disposition that colour is some kind of buried treasure, open only to those who are a part of some exclusive club where partners and couples clutch at each others’ hands like an anchor dropped in a bed of sand. The delight of love in someone else. It makes her heart race. But it is not this that upsets her. It is Ethel, the near 70-year-old lady on the screen, who lost her husband. She had spent 50 years with colour. And then it was lost.

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anonymous asked:

Uhm... I-I have a plot bunny for you. Kakashi and Obito where Obito is a water creature of some sort, like a selkie or a siren, and he meets Kakashi when they're both really young. Kakashi has a new best friend, but Sakumo (who knows all about fairies and their tricks, after the naga prince Orochimaru disappeared and broke his heart) is concerned. So, he asks to meet Obito, and is surprised that instead of a tricky fae he's just been tackled into the sand by a hyper child of the sea.

I TOTALLY MEANT THIS TO BE LIKE 600 WORDS WTF. OOPS??


Sakumo is just a little worried, that’s all.

He stands on the porch overlooking the crooked path down to the sea, twisting the chain of the pendant he normally wears around his fingers. It’s a bad habit, and he always thinks he might be loosening the setting, twisting the metal out of shape. Thinks of one day reaching down to touch it and finding the ruby gone, lost forever along the paths he walks. His heart clenches just imagining it, this last gift gone and never to return, just like the sly, beautiful, cunning prince who once pressed it into his hands.

That’s the reason he’s fretting over Kakashi, really. He’s seen the signs—bits of coral, sea glass from far shores, shells that can only be found in the deepest places, pearls larger and brighter than any that land-dwellers can reach without dying in the process. He’s found bits of seaweed in Kakashi’s hair, swept the sand from his room in the mornings when he knows it had been clean the night before. Watched the way he eyes the ocean as it breaks, with something very much like longing.

Sakumo’s sword rests on the chair behind him, cleaned and polished to a mirror shine. He hasn’t carried it with any regularity since Kakashi was born, but he keeps it in repair. There are too many dangers not to, and sometimes he can earn a few coins guarding a traveler on their way. It’s not something he wants to use now, in any way, but if Kakashi’s safety is on the line, he won’t allow himself to do anything less.

He thinks of Orochimaru, of waking one morning to an empty bed and an empty home. It’s impossible to regret any choices that gave him Kakashi, no matter how he still mourns both his wife, a dear friend if nothing else, and the naga prince who stole his heart, but—

But he wants to save Kakashi the grief that he’s felt all these years, of adoring a fey creature with a mind half-full of magic and too many dreams that leave no room for more human kinds of love.

Kakashi is stubborn, smart. He won’t listen to Sakumo, not at first, but Sakumo has to try.

He hears footsteps in the dirt of the path and drags his eyes up from the ruby in his fist. Kakashi a coming, steps light, a smile on his face and a string of fish dangling over one shoulder. They’re not fish that swim anywhere near these shores, but Sakumo smiles regardless, waves to his son, and allows himself to enjoy the way Kakashi lights up a little when he sees him.

“Kakashi,” he says warmly, leaning down to offer a hand up onto the porch, since Kakashi rarely deigns to approach from the front and use the stairs. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was decent,” Kakashi says decisively. There’s a flower tucked behind his ear, one the grows near the mouth of the river that empties into the sea. It’s a fair distance from the house, and worry twinges at Sakumo’s chest again. Too far for him to hear a call for help, should it come.

When he manages to wrestle the feeling under control, Kakashi is watching, dark eyes faintly narrowed. “Are you okay, Dad?” he asks, tipping his head. “You look like a constipated frog.”

There’s nothing in the world better for the ego, Sakumo thinks wryly, than having children. “I’m fine, cub. Just—wondering if you’ll ever introduce my to your new friend.”

Kakashi blinks, but doesn’t bother asking how he knows. For a brief second, he glances down at the ruby pendant Sakumo is holding, then away, and says with perfect disinterest, “If I’d known you wanted to meet an idiot like him, I would have introduced you weeks ago.”

An idiot? Sakumo raises a brow, but doesn’t try to argue; this is already more of a concession than he expected, honestly. “Well, maybe I was waiting for you to bring him up,” he says mildly, tries to inject it with the crushing parental disapproval via sigh that his own mother always used to devastating effect, and apparently doesn’t do too badly given the way Kakashi winces.

“It wasn’t a secret,” his son tells him witheringly. “And besides, I don’t have to tell you everything.”

Sometimes, Sakumo is absolutely, entirely certain that he won’t survive Kakashi’s teenage years. If he’s already like this at seven, there’s no hope left at all.

“No,” he agrees, and keeps his tone light. “Of course you don’t. But I like knowing about what makes you happy, Kakashi.”

There’s a long pause as Kakashi stares at him, evaluating his sincerity. Then he nods once, decisively, and says, “He should still be near the beach, because he’s a loser who never gets anywhere on time. You can meet him now.” He hurries inside, leaving the door swinging, to lay the fish on the counter, and Sakumo takes the opportunity to belt his sword around his waist and clasp his pendant back around his neck. Kakashi will notice it—Kakashi notices everything, much to his chagrin—but he probably won’t say anything.

Then the rapid footsteps are back, and Kakashi takes a flying leap off the porch to land in the sun-gold grass. “Come on, Dad,” he says impatiently, looking like he’s going to dart back and start tugging at Sakumo’s belt the way he did when he was younger. “Before he leaves!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Sakumo protests, stepping down and following Kakashi’s path as he hurries back down the hill. Ignoring the track, Kakashi takes the shortcut across the stream, then down the steepest part of the incline, and hits the dune well ahead of Sakumo, who isn’t quite reduced to running just yet. He watches his son disappear around the edges of the dune, and when he rounds it Kakashi is already halfway to the water, though he’s finally walking again.

“Idiot!” Kakashi calls, pitched to annoy, impatient as anything, and Sakumo strangles a groan. The very least Kakashi could do not to get killed by a magical creature would be refraining from insulting it, so of course throwing around insults is the very first thing Kakashi does. It’s probably how he introduced himself, knowing him.

“I’m not an idiot, you jerk!” a voice shouts back. Young, Sakumo thinks with some surprise as he scans the water. There’s a flash of iridescent scales among the waves, and the next time one breaks it leaves a shape behind. A long, looping tail, dark blue with a sheen of orange-gold scattered throughout, flared, feathery fins streaked with the same colors, pale skin, dark hair chopped short. A siren boy, just pulling himself up on the sand, and the soldier in Sakumo is assessing, calculating, weighing the risk of a child who clearly hasn’t even managed to change forms yet.

The rest of Sakumo wonders what a siren boy, so young and without mastery of his own power, is doing alone on the surface, far, far away from any siren chorales.

Then he turns, pushing himself up to sit as he twists to face Kakashi, and Sakumo’s eyes track over the deep scars all up and down his right side. Cold certainty sets into his bones, and he releases the hilt of his sword as if it’s burned him. Sirens are vain to a fault, and scarred chorale members are usually driven out.

Gods, but how long has this boy been alone, cast out and thinking himself unwanted?

Kakashi and the siren are still bickering when Sakumo makes his way over to them, and it sounds angry and cutting and irritated, but Sakumo knows his son better than that. Kakashi looks fond, and even if Sakumo doesn’t know the other boy, he’s fairly sure that light in his eyes is the very furthest thing from hate.

“—wouldn’t have bothered,” Kakashi is just huffing when Sakumo nears. “But my dad wanted to meet you, and he’s the only reason I—”

“Your dad?” the siren interrupts, and his dark eyes are wide with excitement, clearly not taking any of Kakashi’s bluster to heart. “He wanted to meet me?”

“Of course I did,” Sakumo says lightly, and smiles as both boys jerk around to look at him.

“So slow,” Kakashi complains, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dad this is Obito. He’s an idiot, so don’t listen to anything he says.”

Sakumo rolls his eyes, just a little, but crouches down so that Obito won’t have to crane his neck looking up at him. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says warmly, watching those black eyes widen, and gods, the boy is adorable. Especially for a flesh-eating, sailor-drowning monster of the depths, but, well. No one’s perfect, and if Obito hasn’t drowned Kakashi yet the world at large is probably safe. On instinct, he reaches out, ruffling wet hair a little, and offers, “Would you like me to carry you up the hill so you can eat dinner with us? Those fish—you must be the one who caught them, right?”

Without warning, Sakumo’s arms are suddenly full of wet skin and slick scales as a baby siren wraps his arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. Sakumo overbalances, too startled to make a sound, but Obito doesn’t let go; if anything he clings tighter, and says in a tone that’s close to desperate, “Thank you! Yes! Yes, I really, really want to!”

Sakumo chuckles, picking himself up out of the sand. “Of course. The least I could do for someone who caught us such a fine dinner,” he says lightly. He gets an arm around Obito’s back, the other underneath the glittering tail, and hefts him up.

The fin still curls on the ground, and he hesitates, not wanting to drag it through the prickly grass, but before he can say anything Kakashi heaves a disgusted sigh and stalks over, hefting the feathery end up in his arms. “Can we just get this over with?” he demands, though Sakumo can see his cheeks are a little flushed.

“Bakashi,” Obito complains, flicking his tail slightly, and Kakashi makes a deeply offended noise as it slaps him in the face.

Sakumo hides a grin. That’s certainly not how he and Orochimaru interacted. And…maybe it’s selfish of him, but he’s a little glad Obito doesn’t have a chorale to go back to, that he’s alone. Maybe he won’t disappear on Kakashi just when he thinks their happiness is assured.

Before he can ask how in the world they met, small fingers are at his throat, touching the ruby there lightly. There’s a soft sound of wonder, and Obito looks up at him, expression startled. “This is the same necklace the trapped prince is wearing,” he says. “How does a human have it?”

Sakumo would swear his heart entirely stops beating.

Trapped?” he croaks when he can finally manage to draw even a partial breath again.

Obito tips his head, like the question confuses him. “Yeah. He’s been sleeping at the bottom of the forest river since before I was born. My selkie friend says her mom told her there was a battle with the sea witch Danzō, and an earth goddess and holy monk helped the prince but even though they defeated Danzō he trapped them in the forest.”

Nine years. Nine years Orochimaru has been trapped and sleeping and waiting to be rescued, so close at hand, but—Sakumo hadn’t known.

He looks towards the forest, a dark shadow on the horizon, and takes a breath.

Well. It looks like his sword is going to see a bit of use after all.

Talks Machina Highlights: Episodes 95/96
  • This week’s Denise message: ominous stylized symbol that reads “FREE”.
  • Laura does the splits before the show starts.
  • Everyone judges Travis for not reading the Dark Tower series.
  • Denise has moved on to a new job (and is indeed a real person, the technical director of the show). Also has her own twitch: twitch.tv/denisebrr!
  • VM appeared to deal 413 damage to the entity. Even Doty’s natural one “appeared to” hit it.
  • Fenthras got exalted! New things: Bramble Shot can be used twice, and the Oracle Shot can be used twice. 1d6 rather than 1d4 lightning damage.
  • Grog lost interest in the Slayer’s Take pretty rapidly because it was pretty unsatisfying. He wanted to fight a dragon or a stone giant.
  • Ashley was excited but a little nervous and feeling the pressure to jump into a Pike arc after being gone for so long.
  • Back in the home game, Travis wrote the longest character backstory of any of them.
  • Brian on what you’re missing by not watching TM: “Travis getting boogers pulled out of his eye by his wife on live television.”
  • Vex really likes Tary as a roomie because Doty did some housekeeping, because he was always ready to talk a lot, and because he made her stuff. Vex is also drawn toward people who have suffered or are outcasts in some way, so once she found out he was outcast from his family, she wanted to protect him.
  • Grog still misses Scanlan, to the point where if Vax pulls a prank on him, he might just let it go instead of jumping gleefully into retaliation.
  • Laura had several chances to find the grey render baby over the year off, and she rolled poorly every time. A lot of them rolled poorly during the prep at Matt’s house.
  • Brian has adopted and expanded on Laura’s dice habits, including the dice jail. Travis: “Or it’s just… dice.” Laura: “NO SOME OF THEM ARE CURSED”
  • Everyone talks about how fangirlish Ashley and Laura would be if Sara Bareilles were on the show. Ashley gets nervous just talking about the time they got to meet her.
  • VM-themed Slayer’s Cake stuff: Profiterollo, Bad News bear claws, sun treats, blondies for Tary, angel food cake, honeyed fun buns, do-you-spice cake. Brian suggests a meat-man pie. Victor’s coffee cake, Kern bread.
  • Grog thinks the Deck of Many Things is actually The Deck of Fucking Awesome Love and Amazing Weapons.
  • Ashley had to roll to have Pike become number 2 in the Crucible!
  • Travis and Ashley both had to roll to teach Grog to read.
  • It took Tary five months to enchant the armor for Vex, working every day. In return, she stuck around with him and kept him company every day. They bonded a lot over that year!
  • Nobody really has any plans to go back to Greyskull. Pike and Grog decide they’re gonna turn it into a treehouse.
  • To Grog, Tary is just sort of there. “I need him to fight more. And better.” He needs to get a cool HDYWTDT.
  • Vex thought Scanlan was right about some things, but believes that his leaving wasn’t justified. Vex is way closer to Tary than she was with Scanlan, but she’d still rather have Scanlan to rely on in battle.
  • Now Pike’s just as tempted as Grog to draw a card from the Deck.
  • Pike’s mom was completely fine with Wilhand leaving with her so that it was one less mouth to feed. The other characters were Matt expanding on Ashley’s overall outline.
  • The twins didn’t have the ability to do big scams (they didn’t have magic!), but they mostly survived by stealing and then selling at the next down over.
  • Ashley thinks Pike feels worse about her family betraying her than she would’ve felt if the curse had been real. Laura points out that if they hadn’t noticed the illusion, the whole thing could’ve played out and they never would’ve known.
  • Travis and Ashley mostly didn’t suspect an illusion until Laura pointed it out; they thought it was gonna be a distraction from the real monster. Laura figured something was weird right when it was cast, and immediately figured it out when nobody could hit it.
  • Ashley was really torn between what she would’ve done in the situation and what Pike would’ve done; she dialed back her anger to keep in-character. Ashley whispered to Travis: “Maybe we should make [Ogden] pick a card.”
  • Grog would’ve been a lot less merciful towards the Trickfoots; nobody messes with Pike on his watch.
  • Vex thinks of Pike’s response to the whole situation as something she’d want to aspire to.

Talks Machine in the Dark:

  • +2 AC on Vex’s dragon-hide armor, automatically has cold resistance, and doesn’t have to be attuned.
  • Travis tries (and fails) his Chewbacca impression.
  • Ashley attempts a Christopher Walken impression. Ashley: “Nope, I lost it.” Brian: “I don’t know if you had it.”
  • Matt buttdialed Brian at Ren Faire and it went to voicemail, so Brian is working on editing and enhancing the four minutes of audio he got from that.
  • Mary Elizabeth McGlynn was the one who married Laura and Travis, and they did a sort of “renewal of vows” at Ren Faire.
  • Grog isn’t really scared of much besides Kevdak.
  • Pike gave her family ~6,000 gold at the end.
  • Cake or pie? Travis: pie. Laura: cake. Ashley: …shit. (She settles on pie.) Brian prefers cake.
  • Someone asks: If Grog had to give up weapons, ale, or Pike, which would he give up? He’d give up ale. Travis didn’t even hesitate.
  • Ashley doesn’t think Pike would’ve turned out like the other Trickfoots if she’d stayed with them. She’d already started to show signs of being different and having experiences as a cleric, which is why Wilhand took her out of there.
  • Ashley and Laura both dream as their characters. Travis doesn’t really dream much. “It’s ‘cause my life is a dream, girl.”
  • Ashley dreams half the group are just themselves and half are their characters in some fantasy setting. Laura sometimes dreams of having the flying dream IRL. Brian had his first D&D dream last night. “I was Vax as fuck. I Jenga’d hard.”
Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

xjustfandomx  asked:

Hi! So I always go to your blog when I need cheering up because it's so full of life and fun so I wanted to ask if you have any long fluffy pack fics with sterek just the pack sticking up for eachother I've had a rough time with my 'friends' this week and I just need some pack being close and loving thank you!

I’m so sorry about your friends. Hopefully things have gotten better. Either way here’s some pack as family fluff for you. - Anastasia

Originally posted by whatthehellbells

Feels Like Belonging by nan

(1/1 I 2,513 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles isn’t sure why all these werewolves think they have access to his bed. The explanation is just. Weird.

The Alpha by SereneCalamity

(1/1 I 2,683 I Explicit I Sterek)

People were sometimes to surprised when they realized who the Alpha of Beaconhills was.

They Were Pack by Shippings_galore

(1/1 I 3,544 I General I Sterek)

Stiles gets the new pack to go to prom. Lydia invites the old pack members (that we all miss and love), not telling him (or the new pack) that she had also invited a certain Sourwolf.

Building Blocks by Lisztful

(1/1 I 5,417 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles doesn’t exactly mean to start cleaning up after everybody, it’s just that, well, sometimes he thinks Derek turned them into actual animals.

hooked on (dangling by a yarn) by extantecstasy

(1/1 I 19,132 I Teen I Sterek)

One hundred days, ten scarves, one Christmas, and Stiles’ dormant magic has to ruin everything.

ladybugs by thepsychicclam

(1/1 I 20,273 I Explicit I Sterek)

It’s Saturday night, and Derek Hale is at Toys R Us. Shopping for Leapfrog games. If asked, it wasn’t exactly how he pictured his life. Or his Saturday nights.

In which Derek and Stiles have been married for ten years, have two kids, and are planning their five year old’s birthday party.

The Hale House of Mythical Creatures by Demimonde (Katherene)

(16/? I 38,224 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles is eight when his mom dies.

Stiles is eight when his dad drops him off on the Hale’s front porch and then leaves him there.

This is the story of a little lost Spark growing up in a place that might have been made for him all along.

Living With Lycanthropy by WhoNatural

(1/1 I 44,095 I Explicit I Sterek)

Wherein they both own bakeries, Stiles tries not to run his grandmother’s legacy into the ground, Laura wants to be a better alpha, and Derek can’t seem to get Stiles’ attention the regular way - so naturally, he accidentally initiates a prank war.

(Or, if Teen Wolf was more like Gilmore Girls, with everyone far too invested in whether the Hale boy and the Sheriff’s kid will work it out, and Laura Hale wrote a handbook for alpha werewolves.)

The Littlest Alpha by triedunture

(16/16 I 52,508 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

Future Dreams by littlefrog1025

(14/14 I 74,773 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles accidentally summons he and Derek’s children from the future to the present.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

(10/10 I 105,192 I Explicit I Sterek)

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It’s Stiles’ senior year, and he’s trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he’s being haunted by a hag. Great.

La douleur exquise Pt.2 (M)

La douleur exquise: The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

Summary: You’ve been helplessly in love with your brother’s best friend all your life, but he can’t see you as anything other than a little sister.

Pairing: Wonho x Reader x Jungkook (not a threesome but messy as hell)

Word Count: 6.1k

Genre(s): Angst, smut

Part 1 here

A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient with me on this update. I really hope I did it justice and hope you enjoy! (& don’t kill me I’m sorry)

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fragile ones

on ao3

title taken from 10am gare du nord by keaton henson. i love his music so much its just so….open and raw? it felt fitting for a fic like this, it just really works for late nights and emotional talks idk

i started this fic back at the end of august on a bad night and there isnt much plot to it just…speculation i guess. a character study of alya? but in this au?? im not sure. theres not much to it at all and its a little all over, but it was a fic i felt like i had to write

enjoy


Alya wakes up with her heart in her throat and her hands tearing at her hair. She groans and rests her forehead on her knees.

If only he’d shut up.

She checks the time. It’s only three, because of course it’s unreasonable to ask for a full night’s sleep. She stays where she is for a little while longer, curled up in a ball and hugging a pillow, letting her heart rate level out and her head slow its spin. When she stops feeling like she’ll throw up if she moves, she slides out of bed and pads into the bathroom.

Alya avoids the floorboards that creak and is careful to close the door softly, but it doesn’t really matter. After a few months, her family got used to her getting up at strange hours and wandering around the house. Once she stopped screaming, it was easier for them to sleep through her nightmares.

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Mistakes and forgiveness - older!Damian Wayne x Reader

Remember when I said : “I won’t write about the batfam for a while” ? Yeah, I guess I totally lied. No self control really. Anyway, I adore that prompt. So I tried to write something about it…Not sure it’s what you wanted anon. Hope you’ll still like it though :

Warning : slightly NSFW and language. 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

________________________________________________

-Hey Damian I…Oh.

As you entered in his bedroom at Wayne Manor, the one he was suppose to leave the coming week to come and live with you, one of your worst nightmare stopped you cold in your tracks.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the door and…

There was an almost naked girl in his lap. 

Her tongue was in his mouth. One of her hand tangled in his hair, just like you did, the other one splayed across his broad bare chest. His own hands were on her ass, leaving marks of his fingers for later. 

You knew she noticed you, but she kept on going, the hand that was on his chest going to the waistband of his boxer…He opened his eyes and locked them on you, while still kissing her…Hell, while still devouring her mouth ! He opened his eyes, locking his gaze on you and…in his beautiful green orbs, you could see nothing but disdain, a bit of disgust, and…cruelty ? And it was directed to you. He pulled away from her for a second, and his words stabbed you in the heart : 

-Can’t you see I’m busy ? 

The girl’s smirk drove the knife further into your bleeding heart…

You tried to hide your pained expression, out of pride, but it was impossible…You’ve seen enough.

You left, slapping the door shut behind you. 

Tears ran freely down your cheeks, and you ignored Damian’s father asking you what was wrong as you ran out of the Manor. 

You quickly got in your car, and your feet didn’t leave the accelerator pedal until you were back in front of your apartment. Without even bothering to take your clothes off, you fell heavily on your bed, empty. Your tears had ran out. 

Nothing. You felt nothing. Utterly empty. You fell asleep, the scene you witnessed in your ex-boyfriend’s room replaying over and over again in your head, and after, in your dreams. No. Not dreams. Nightmares. 

You woke up, sweating, and decided you just couldn’t stay in your apartment. You had to get out. You just had to. 

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A Little More of This

Sometimes you just gotta write smutty bed sharing. You just gotta, because @alienor-woods prompts you too. Thanks bae, this is entirely dedicated to you <3

definitely nsfw. 


They get into a groove of it, push and pull and not that, I did it anyway, and somehow managing to make it all work. Well, “work.” Bellamy’s not sure they’re really getting any closer to saving everyone from the end of the world, but Clarke is so sure there’s a solution, so sure that if they just keep working, they’ll find something.

He loves that about her. Loves her certainty that borders on pigheadedness because underneath it, Clarke Griffin fundamentally refuses to give up on people. And there’s no way in the world Bellamy Blake can give up on Clarke Griffin. Not at this point. So he sticks with her, tries to help, tries to guide her and advise her and just support her when lack of sleep and heart crushing disappointment threaten to overwhelm her. And Clarke lets him, looks to him, leans on him.

Clarke’s habit of taking over his space hasn’t been lost on Bellamy. They’d picked right back where they had been in terms of their trust, their ability to get each other like no one else, their ability to listen to each other. But now, it’s more than quick shoulder squeezes and out of the blue hugs, Clarke a surprise in his arms. Clarke’s proximity isn’t to get his attention or to prove a point, not anymore.

He’s not sure what exactly pulls her into his orbit, right up close so that when he shifts his arms brushes her side, or that when she cranes her neck to look at him, she has to turn just a bit further because she’s so close. She touches him now, as if to reassure herself he’s right there, that she found her way home- home from the woods, home from the City of Light. She touches him like Bellamy is her only barometer of safety, like touching him reminds Clarke this isn’t a dream.

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EVAK FANFICTION RECS / PART 10

Halla! So, as time comes and goes, I’m here with another masterpost of some of my favorite Evak fanfics for you guys. As you can see, I’m trying to be a bit more creative and make these posts look at least somewhat more appealing, so I hope you like this little header I made (even though I suck at Photoshop).

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics.
My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”.
Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”

Without further ado, all the fanfics can be found under the cut. Enjoy!

Keep reading

kylux fic recs

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

EMPEROR HUX:

BEN SOLO SWAYED BY THE FIRST ORDER AU:

LIGHT SIDE AU:

  • In Balance by Stargayzing, 24k / Ben Solo never left the Light. 
  • may your past be the sound by dreabean, 110k / “Heard you were looking for a transport. As it happens, I’m looking for some passengers.”
  • The Enemy Ahead by codenametargeter, 110k / To get away from the influence of his father, Hux defected from the First Order when he was 17 years old.
  • return to sender by kaeda, 40k / In which Ben Organa Solo is a bureaucrat’s nightmare, General Hux is constantly frustrated, and the two of them cannot stop flirting via holonet.
  • Ascension by plinys, 16k wip / Ben Organa-Solo has spent the last fifteen years living on Kashyyyk, hidden away from Snoke and the First Order
  • Out of the Ashes by thatviciousvixen, 29k wip / For once General Hux is in a place where life is smooth and everything is going according to plan
  • Lines on skin by saltandlimes, 138k wip / Ren has returned from training with Snoke to retake joint command of Finalizer. But something is wrong, and only the pain and control Hux is willing to give will help him find out what that is.

FORCE SENSITIVE HUX:

HUMAN AU:

PRE/POST THE FORCE AWAKENS:

SOUTHERN GOTHIC:

  • The Hanged Man by thatviciousvixen, 13k / As it turns out, being stuck with his family for the summer is the least of his worries. 
  • where we’re from, there’s no sun by shesaysbriefthings, 17k / Until a spate of brutal animal killings leave the town shaken, and the arrival of a dark, quiet, hermit-like blacksmith named Ben leaves Bren Hux reconsidering most of what he’s learned about life in his short 20 years.
  • Southern Comfort by ocktorok, 23k wip / It’s too hot outside and the people in town are weird and Hux would really just rather not be here, thank you, until a mysterious stranger appears, covered in blood and determined to shake things up.

AU’S:

  • Ex Machina In Tenebris by sual, 11k wip / droid hux / Kylo Ren and General Hux are both Snoke’s creations. In Hux’s case, it’s only slightly more literal.
  • Here Comes Your Man by hollycomb, 42k / arranged marriage / At twenty-two years of age, the only son of Brendol the Fierce is married to the son of Queen Organa. 
  • Destiny by silversolitaire, 51k wip / arkanis academy au /  Following the orders of his Master, young Kylo Ren infiltrates a First Order academy
  • Idols and Dead Men by Sath, 62k wip / senator au / After the truth about Kylo Ren’s heritage is revealed to the galaxy, Snoke commands his apprentice to destroy the New Republic from within. Ren finds an unexpected ally in General Hux.
  • A Vision by Vivian, 50k wip / darth vader lives au /  Vader has survived. With him is Kylo Ren. They operate as leaders of the First Order alongside General Hux. Power shifts. Tension ensues.
  • Political Warfare by Letummordre, 15k / senator au, arranged marriage / Ben Organa-Solo is a Senator of the New Republic, as well as a Jedi-Knight. General Hux is arranged as his husband to solidify the uneasy ceasefire between the New Republic and the First Order into an albeit shaky alliance.
  • Roughing It by Flyting, 21k wip / survival au / If anyone had asked Hux to describe ‘hell’, being stranded on a backwater planet with Kylo-fucking-Ren would have come pretty close to the mark.