that book really had a number on me okay

6

The Song of Achilles + character posters:

A C H I L L E S 

“Prince Achilles, son of King Peleus and the goddess Thetis. Aristos Achaion!”

ifeelbetterer  asked:

Gotg prompt: how did Rocket learn to speak Groot?

“Repeat after me, Quill: I am Groot.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said dutifully. He felt like an idiot, but there were only a limited number of ways to while away quiet nights on the ship when neither of them could sleep. If it was him and Gamora, or him and Drax, they could spar, but he’d only tried sparring with Rocket once. It took weeks for the bite marks to heal.

Rocket’s oddly expressive – for a raccoon – face wrinkled in an expression of disgust. “Do you even hear yourself? That is nothing like what I just said.”

“Dude, that is exactly what you just said.”

“No, I said ‘I am Groot’ and you said ‘I am Groot’.”

“Which is … the same?”

Rocket stared at him for a long moment, then pointed at his snout. “Read my lips: I am Groot.”

“Was I supposed to repeat that, or …”

Rocket showed some teeth. Peter shut up. There was a moment of silence and Peter was just about to put his earbuds back in and quit with the language lessons when Rocket said suddenly, “Quill, if I say, 'I am Groot,’ just like that, what do you hear?”

“Is this a trick question? Especially the kind of trick question that’s gonna end in you pissing on my bed?”

“That was only once, and you had it coming –”

“Rocket –”

“No, for the love o’ cheese, it’s not a trick question. Just say 'I am Groot’.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said. “I feel like a complete jackass right now, in case that was your intent – hey, where are you going?”

“Jus’ need to get a thing!” Rocket’s voice trailed behind him.

Peter flopped back down in the chair in the mess and put his earbuds in. He was actually getting sleepy, and considering going back to bed, when Rocket jumped up onto the table in front of him with something clutched in his paws.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, sitting up. He palmed off the Zune and took off the earpieces. He had to hand it to Earth tech: the new music player was a lot more convenient to carry around than his late, lamented Walkman.

Rocket’s device was a thin, flat screen about the size of a hardback book; he had it clutched with a paw on each side while readouts rippled quickly across it.

“Okay, now say 'I am Groot’,” Rocket declared, studying the screen.

“Come on, man, do we really have to go through this again?”

“Humor me.”

Peter sighed and slouched in his chair. “I am Groot.”

Rocket’s ears pricked forward. “I am Groot,” he said, and tapped the display with his paw, causing the tiny, scrolling lines and numbers to freeze. “Did that sound the same to you?”

“Well … yeah?”

The flat pads of Rocket’s fingers danced across the display, and he laid the screen on the table between them. “Know what you’re lookin’ at?”

“Squiggly lines,” Peter said automatically.

“Did your mama drop you on the head a lot as a baby, Quill?”

“No, but Yondu did occasionally.” Peter rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. As much fun as it was to mess with Rocket, he did actually think he knew what the raccoon was getting at. “That wiggly line is some kind of … uh … noise – wiggle – curve, right?”

“That’s real precise.”

“I was abducted from Earth before we got to algebra in school. Cut me some slack here.”

“Excuses, excuses. I was raised in a cage and my mother had an IQ of 3.” Rocket touched the display, zooming in on it. “Point is, I don’t think it’s just that all a’ you two-legged bunch is too obtuse to understand perfectly clear speech –”

“Thanks.”

“– like I used to think. It’s more like, my ears hear at higher and lower frequencies than yours do, so I get different overtones. Put simply for the simple, I can hear things you can’t.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “So, wait – you mean all this time, all his 'I am Groot’s sound different to you?”

He realized what he’d said as soon as the words left his mouth, and got the flat 'I am dealing with morons’ look from Rocket that he’d instantly realized he had coming. “How am I supposed to understand him if they don’t, Quill, I ask you?”

“Okay – point – but … so why does it sound like 'I am Groot’ to the rest of us?”

“It sounds like 'I am Groot’ to me too.” When Peter glowered at him, Rocket held up a paw. “No, I ain’t messin’ with ya. This time. No, that’s what the translation unit picks up, 'cause it ain’t so smart about some of the less humanoid languages. It’s just, I hear it like …” He hesitated and waggled his paw. “It’s like your music, right? All those up and down tones at the same time. Groot can do that. Your throat, my throat, can’t.”

“Singing?” Peter said after a minute. “Groot’s singing?”

“I refer you back to the part about bein’ dropped on your head.” Rocket pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, making Peter jump – there was still some part of him that couldn’t quite hear whistling and not expect a death arrow to follow an instant later. And he might not be the only one, because Rocket stopped abruptly, closed his mouth, and then said, “Quill, do this,” and hummed softly.

It wasn’t really a tune. “You just want me to hum?” Peter asked. “Like, generic humming?”

Rocket curled his lip and the hum became more of a snarl.

“Right, humming,” Peter said hastily.

The funny thing was, the instant his soft hum of response hit the right harmonics with the note Rocket was humming (and the raccoon did have a good sense of pitch; Peter had always suspected so) he understood exactly what Rocket was getting at.

“Ohhhhh. When Groot talks, it’s like a symphony. Is that what you mean? And the 'I am Groot’ part is the part in the human audible range.”

Rocket’s ears and tail went up cheerfully. “Yeah, ezzactly. He’s tryin’ to communicate, it’s just he didn’t get any farther than 'I am Groot’ when he was learning. It’s as hard for him to do the talkin’ part for the translators as it is for you and me to do his kind of talk. He can hear us just fine, though. Actually to him, understanding our talk is dead easy.”

“So how do we understand him?” Peter asked. “Can you, I dunno, juice up the translator so it picks up a higher range of frequencies, or something?”

“I dunno. That’s not a bad idea.” Rocket tapped his claw against his teeth before picking up the screen thing and hopping off the table. “Have to think on it. Don’t wanna explode your heads or anything.”

“Yeah, well, on that lovely note, I’m goin’ to bed.” He actually was tired enough now to fall asleep in spite of the inevitable nightmares (the bitter cold and darkness of space; Ego’s face dissolving in his hands; his friends crushed by rocks or blown apart). The music helped as it always had, a melodic bulwark against the dark, wrapped gently around his heart – but it could only do so much.

Rocket grunted absently as he trotted off, already engrossed in figuring out the problem.

The thought occurred to Peter as he wandered back to his quarters, thumbing idly through the songs on the Zune, that these sorts of mechanical puzzles served the same purpose for Rocket as his music did for him: something to make his mind go quiet.

The music did that … and so did letting Gamora beat the stuffing out of him in the ship’s small exercise area. Or getting language lessons from Rocket. Or –

“I am Groot?”

Peter jumped as small hands grabbed hold of his pants leg. Groot shimmied quickly up to perch on his shoulder.

“Hey, little buddy.” Peter opened the door to his quarters and left it open so Groot could come and go as he wanted. Or so he could hear if anybody got into a fight or whatever. He flopped wearily on his unmade bed, careful not to dislodge Groot. “You know, I’m not sure how much of this you can understand right now, but Rocket’s teaching me to speak your language.”

“I am Groot?”

“Well, to understand you more than speak it, I guess I should say.” He was lying on his back now and he couldn’t really see Groot except out of the corner of his eye, but he could feel the little tree shifting around in the hollow where the collar of his sweatshirt rested against his neck.

“I am Groot,” Groot said insistently, almost in his ear. Small hands patted at the side of his face and his earlobe.

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter pinched one earbud between two fingers and held it where Groot could get at it. The little hands took it out of his fingers. Peter settled himself comfortably as Groot squirmed somewhat ticklishly against his neck, and sorted through the songs. “How 'bout Elton John tonight, buddy?”

“I am Groot,” came the sleepy answer.

“You know, little guy,” Peter murmured, as the first strains of the music began to play and Groot snuggled comfortably against his neck, “whether or not Rocket can get his new gadget working, I think we understand each other just fine, don’t we?”

“I am Groot!”

Empty Libraries

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Request: Could you do something fluffy w Lin, idk why but could you?- anon

Summary: “you’re talking to yourself in a silent library about how much you hate studying and how you’re going to fail, need help? i just so happen to major in that subject and oh shit, you’re really cute”

Warnings: first fic? otherwise just lots of fluff and a little awkward Lin.

A/N: have fun, and I’d really appreciate feedback!

Word Count: 1929

Keep reading

please read and pass along so queen Vic sees it and comments on it/ reblogs (part one)

okay y'all. im goons try to keep this short. over a year ago, i began reading red queen. it was by far one of the best days of my life. im writing this for three reasons. one, i want queen v to see it and know just how much she means to me. two, today i got scared. i got really scared that one day red queen will no longer make me feel the intense love i feel now. three, i had this dream that i was a number one nyt bestselling author and me and queen vic went to go have lunch. queen vic if you read this hmu. i know some pretty gucci restaurants in ri. haha. 😂 okay so back to the beginning of the story, i was walking around bn before gs came out and i saw this book … with the most gorgeous cover i have ever seen. and then i read the back. i instantly connected with this book. i loved it so so much and i hadn’t even read it yet. my depression and anxiety were so bad at this point and i had already started cutting. so then i started reading this book, it was AMAZING. i just felt this connection with mare, as if she were real and i could just talk to her. and i felt so … not alone for the first time in a long time. it was this unimaginable love. it made my heart hurt in the best way possible. glass sword came out by the time i finished reading it. i was so so in love. ask anyone, there is not a day have gone without having a conniption at least one since i started reading it. so the next year was really hard. the arrival of kc kept me going. during that year, I MET VICTORIA AVEYARD in east long meadow at kidly winks in June of 2016. IT WAS LITERALLY THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE. it was the most personal thing to me so im not gonna describe what happened other than HOLY SHIT. I WAS ON CLOUD NINE ☁️ FOR WEEKS. she was just so amazing. idek what to say. after we left the store, I cried. and honestly i miss her sm. i gave her a million hugs and was honestly an awkward but. i hope she didn’t judge too much. it was great. we hugged, complemented each other, our moms talked to each other. I STILL can’t get over it, but quite a while after that, things got so bad that i couldn’t function anymore. i was NEVER happy. i hid my rq books because i didn’t want to see them and have them lose their meaning in this dark time. so, then i was admitted to bradley, a children’s psychiatric hospital, an intensive outpatient program. the first day i was there i was determined to die. i said i would kill myself before kc because i waited so long and came so far, i just had to make it until then, right? wrong. so while i was in Bradley, i was happy for the first time in a while, but not until kc came out. everyone there, even my psychiatrist said it helped immensely with my recovery. everyone told me i look so much happier. even in that hellhole they call school. my mom said that i was the happiest she had seen me in a long time. my best friend the hope, the sparkle in my eyes was back. it made me realize how much i love some of the things in this world. when i left Bradley, everyone said i was the red queen and positive messages about how strong i was like mare. I still carry those letters around because there still are low points. they never just go away. but now there’s a difference. im happy. i have hope. for that, i am immensely grateful. i love you so so much queen vic. and let me just say, i absolutely support the end of kc. of course im sad, but i understand that as an author sometimes ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. and just like kc gave me hope in my life, i have hope and faith in queen vic and what you do with rq4. stop hating on her y'all. again, i just want to say thank you and *anxiety takes over* please don’t think im crazy. (Btw just thought of this, im gonna post some pics right after bc idk how to put them in here) i just want you to know this because you deserve to and honestly, it was helpful for me to put it all down and not try to cram it into you’re ask box in a few asks as possible. again, thanks and love you. ❤️ @vaveyard

~iliana🌹

#269: Late Night Phone Calls

A/N:

I feel like I’ve written something like this before and I most probably have but oh well, who cares and I love it. This is actually number #100 preference in my second preferences book on Wattpad so it’s actually kind of special so that’s really cool if you ask me haha :-) x

Read When We Collide here //  Find my Masterlist here  

Luke:

“Sorry… I should have known the time… I just really wanted to hear your voice now that I was free and alone.” You smiled gently by his words and squeezed your eyes by turning on the lamp on your nightstand. The time was definitely wrong and he knew, but since you were quick to wake up you didn’t mind. “I actually had to pee so it’s okay. You don’t have to feel guilty.” “No I should just let you sleep.” He coughed with embarrassment in his tone, but you didn’t care. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear his voice until now. “Just tell me about my day. You can talk me back to sleep.” You leaned over to grab the pillow of his side of the bed and rested on it. You heard him softly giggle in the end, starting up a conversation with happiness in his tone.

Calum:

“Are you drunk?” The question was obvious and you had been waiting for it, yet you still couldn’t control the giggles. They were affectionate and left him smiling in reaction, it was pretty obvious by the tone of your voice and the way you were speaking into the phone. “I assume the night was awesome from your laughter.” He hummed with the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, leaning down to grab the shirt from the floor. “Yes it was amazing! But now I’m just really tired and I feel like I want to sleep on a bench.” “Please don’t.” His voice had a hint of nervousness, but he still knew you wouldn’t do anything. He was the one to pick you up and he would hurry as much as he could. “Don’t worry gorgeous,” He pulled up his pants and ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll be there in five.”

Michael:

“So… Tell me what you’re wearing?” “Michael…” You rolled your eyes by his question. The conversation had been casual until now when he changed the subject completely. He laughed in the other end of the phone and shifted in his bunk. “I’m wearing your shirt.” “That sounds interesting.” He hummed by your response and you shook your head in disbelief but smiled anyways. It was one of the casual conversations you had when he was about to go to bed, it fit with the time zones and he wouldn’t disturb your morning sleep. “Please for the love of god, no more phone sex between you.” The voice was faint in the phone but you could totally hear it was Calum and a huge blush came to your cheeks. “Shut up Cal we’re not doing anything.” Michael laughed back knowing the lack of privacy would always be on the bus.

Ashton:

“Can you just please… Come? I know I said I was very independent and all with my new apartment but I don’t think I have the courage and I’m sure I just heard voices downstairs.” You knew it sounded pathetic and the time was close to be two at night but you still needed him more than ever. You had been the one to say he shouldn’t stay, you knew it wasn’t what you fully wanted but it changed the second he was out of the door. You weren’t sure how far he had gotten on the road but all you needed was for him to come back. He could have easily said no but he knew you well enough to know that the phone call would be right there the second he was out. “I’ll be right back.” He hummed softly and turned around to head back to your apartment with a small smile on his face.  

anonymous asked:

Could you do one where The reader is in a bookstore or something and dan sees her and trys to get a convo started with her but isn't really good at it because he's distracted by her cuteness

Dan walked into his favourite bookstore, closing the door behind him and lowering his umbrella. As usual, it was raining in London, and he was happy to find some shelter. He put his umbrella in the assigned area near the door and ran a hand through his hair, hoping it didn’t look too ridiculous from all the moisture in the air. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the lovely scent that always floated around the store and made him feel instantly more relaxed. He walked down the three small steps into the main area and greeted the cashier, a 40-something woman he’d gotten acquainted with over the many months he’d been coming here. He knew the bookstore like the back of his hand and knew exactly where he wanted to go, walking straight to the fantasy corner. He let his fingers run past the back of the books on the shelf until the touched one he hadn’t seen before. He reached to grab it when at that moment another hand reached out for the same book. He let out a soft yelp as he had pretty much gotten jump scared by this sudden hand, and took a few steps back to look at the figure next to him. To his surprise, it was a girl, and a very beautiful one at that. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She said to him, pulling her hand back. Dan felt a blush creep onto his cheeks and he waved her apology off. “Oh no, no need to be sorry, I was not paying attention. We were reaching for the same book huh?” Dan said, taking it from the shelf and handing it to her. “I guess so, yes. It wasn’t here yet when I stopped by last week.” The girl said, stroking the cover with her fingers the way Dan always did when he encountered a new book. “Do you come here often?” She asked, glistening eyes looking up at him, making him blush even more than he already was. “Yeah, I eh… I try. Every Thursday.” Dan nodded, leaning against the shelving unit in an attempt to look cool and relaxed. Judging by her soft giggling, it probably wasn’t as cool as he thought it was. “I come here every Tuesday. Must be why I hadn’t seen you here before. I surely would have remembered you.” The girl said, and she winked at him. Winked. Oh god. Dan felt he started to sweat out from the sudden nerves and he scratched himself on the neck.

“I eh, yeah, I’m sure I would have remembered you as well.” Dan said, nodding to himself, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘for sure’. The girl chuckled and looked down at the book again, handing it over to him. “You were first I guess, I’ll ask Marlene if she order another one.” She said, giving him another smile and she started to walk towards the cashier. Dan panicked, he wanted the book but he also wanted to know this girl’s name. “No wait, you can have it!” Dan said, quickly running after her and he stopped her in his tracks. “What’s your name?” He asked. “Y/N. What’s yours?” The girl asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. “Dan.” He answered, reaching out his hand and when she took it, he shook her hand. “I’ll buy it for you.” Dan said, a bit surprised by his own offer, and Y/N seemed to be as well. “That’s really nice but I don’t really feel comfortable with a stranger buying me a book.” She said, and as he handed her the book she put it on the counter. “But you can buy me a coffee sometime.” She told him, paying for the book and picked up the bag the cashier had put it in. She took out a pen and wrote her name and number down on the receipt, handing it to him. “I have to rush, but call me, okay?” She smiled at him, saying goodbye to Marlene before leaving the shop, leaving Dan by himself. He looked down at the receipt, noticed she dotted her i’s with hearts, and realized that he was never ever going to throw that receipt away.

that-karen-dork  asked:

The 7 do know Leo is alive! In the new books the Trials of Apollo he shows up at the end and they kick him.

“Nico commandeered a dispenser from the snack bar and carried it around, yelling, “The line starts to the left! Orderly queue, guys!”
“Is this really necessary?” Leo asked.
“Yes,” said Miranda Gardiner, who had drawn the first number. She punched Leo in the arm. “Ow,” said Leo.
“You’re a jerk, and we all hate you,” said Miranda. Then she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “If you ever disappear like that again, we’ll line up to kill you.”
“Okay, okay!”

The Trials of Apollo, book 1: The Hidden Oracle, chapter 39

I love pjo, they give me life

~ admin ccbm

My hero

Pairing: Steve x bookworm! reader

Warnings: Robbery, fluff??, Cute steve??

Word count: 988 (sorry its short! I’ve been super busy with finals)

Request: By a darling anon, Maybe something with Steve meeting a bookworm girl? Like her bag got stolen and she’s running after the guy and Steve saves her bag of books? Fluff and all that :) Idk, just books and fluff!

A/N: Finally some Steve fluffiness! Hope you guys enjoy!

Originally posted by ncoleys

Your POV

Immediately after discovering that a new book store had opened no more than two blocks away from your apartment, you dropped everything you were doing, grabbed a tote bag and slipped out onto the street. You made your way through the groups of people cluttering the streets and finally came before the most charming little bookshop that you had thought you’d ever seen.

It had a small bell on the door which rang when you opened it and the inside smelled like fresh baked cookies. There were couches placed all around the shop and rows upon rows of books. You strolled down the aisles, occasionally running your finger along the bindings of the books as you scanned them.

You came across a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’, one of your favorites. You tipped it out the the shelf and flipped it open to scan through the pages. You had a copy of this very same book already at your apartment but it was well read and very worn. At least that’s what you told yourself when you snapped the book shut and decided to buy it. You could never resist new books.

As you continued to wander the aisles you found the third book to a series you had been meaning to finish and a new thriller from one of your favorite authors. Deciding that you had done enough damage, you took all of your books up to the oak check out counter. A sweet older woman greeted you there.

“Will this be all for you ma’am?” she asked.

“I think so, yes, but trust me I will be back for more in no time. You’ll be seeing a lot of me around here I imagine.”

“Well then, I look forward to the next time you come around,” she beamed and handed you your books. You placed the books in your tote bag and smiled at her, then turned around to make your way to the door.

The sun was still bright in the sky when you left the shop. You could normally get lost in bookstores for hours and you weren’t sure what time it was. You plucked your phone out of your pocket to check, when someone snatched the bag of books right out of your hands.

You were shocked for a moment and then scanned the crowd of people in front of you for the person who robbed you. You started running after them but you soon felt hopeless as they gained more distance on you and nobody seemed interested in helping a woman who was being robbed. That was until you saw a very large man dart around you and continue to chase the criminal. You slowed your pace slightly and watched in awe as the man easily caught up to the thief and ripped the bag out of his hands. He gripped the man’s shirt and exchanged a few angry words with him, until shoving him away and turning to find you on the sidewalk. He cautiously approached you and handed you your bag keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

“Oh my god, thank you so much! I was way too slow to catch that guy,” you exclaimed and almost wanted to hug the man who saved your books. He was very handsome after all. He had broad shoulders and a charming smile. The tiniest bit of stubble marked his cheeks and jaw and his dirty blonde hair caught the sunlight.

“It’s no problem ma’am. Just doing the right thing,” he said and shrugged nervously. His cheeks gained a slight pink tint the more you smiled at him.

“Don’t down credit yourself! You’re practically my hero! What’s your name?” You questioned him.

“Steve Rogers,” he beamed and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N L/N” you stated and shook his hand.

“That’s a beautiful name” he stuttered and then as if realizing that he had said it out loud, scratched the back of his neck and sent his gaze to the ground. You chose to spare him the extra embarrassment of acknowledging what he had said and just smiled.

“You have no idea how grateful I am. What could I ever do to repay you for saving my books?” His eyes darted to yours with a nervous smile.

“Well um, you could give me your number and I could pick you up tomorrow around 7? If that’s okay with you of course,” he stammered and if it was even possible his cheeks became even more overcome with a blush. A smile spread across your face and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Sure!” you beamed. His eyes widened as his gaze focused on your face.

“Really?” he stuttered.

Yeah really! Here, give me your phone! I’ll text you my address,” his eyes widened at your easy acceptance and reached into his pocket to get his phone. He handed it to you and you swiftly entered in your information.

“Here you go mister, and I will see you tomorrow at 7,” you said and dropped the phone in his palm as you turned on your heel and began to walk away from him. You swayed your hips a little bit more than you normally would with a massive smile on your face.

Bedtime Story- Imagine

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral!Reader x Steve Rogers

Warning: super fluff, like picture a room full of pillows and feathers, worse than that.

Word Count: 760

Summary: You wake up alone in bed and what you find in the living room leaves you speechless

You don’t know what woke you up, whether it was the cold chill or the lack of snoring that was usually so strong between the two men you shared your bed with that it sent vibrations through your whole body. You sat up in bed and sleepily rubbed your eyes, trying to find the will to leave what little warmth that resided in the bed. Then you hear a voice floating in from the living room just down the hall from your bedroom. You pull yourself out of bed and follow the voice. You emerge from the hallway to see one of the sweetest things and you can’t keep the smile off your face as you look at your two boys.

Steve was curled into the crook of Bucky’s neck, fast asleep. As you creep closer, you notice that Bucky has his flesh arm curled around Steve’s waist holding him even closer, his thumb lovingly stroking the exposed skin of Steve’s hip. In his other hand is the first Harry Potter book, and Bucky’s voice flows seamlessly as he softly reads the story aloud to Steve. When you get closer, Bucky notices you and stops reading. You smile at him, knowing not to speak so you don’t wake Steve. However, you do reach out your hand and cup his cheek while leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Steve shifts in his sleep and the two of you look down, afraid that you had woken him up. But thankfully, Steve just wraps his arms around Bucky and nuzzles closer into his neck and sighs contently. Bucky looks down at Steve, who looks so small curled up on his chest, and can’t help but softly pull him closer. You reach down and brush some of Steve’s hair out of the way, and have to hold in your giggle, you can not believe how long it’s gotten over the past couple of months. You take the book from Bucky’s hand and motion that he bring Steve back into the bedroom. Bucky’s returned look is a little unsure, you both know how little sleep Steve has been getting lately, but it’s not like Bucky has been achieving any more.

You motion again, more forcefully, and Bucky gives in to your motherly glares. He nods and then tightens his grip on Steve’s waist and slides his other arm under his thighs. Then slowly, he stands, trying to keep the blanket from falling from Steve’s warm body. Despite the steadiness of it, Steve lets out a moan starts to pick his head up. Your hand immediately reaches out again and soothes him back against Bucky. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, we’re just taking you back to bed, go back to sleep now.” He obeys and almost immediately starts snoring again. You let Bucky take the lead and trail behind him, turning out the lights in the living room, and making sure that you had cleaned up anything they had gotten out.

When you enter the bedroom, Bucky is sitting up with Steve curled up beside him, his head resting upon Bucky’s lap while Bucky strokes his fingers through his hair. You crawl in, on the other side of Steve, and look at the two of them affectionately. “What happened? Why did you leave?” You asked, hoping neither of them had had a nightmare, those were always the worst nights.

“Stevie just couldn’t sleep and I suggested we read those books that you are constantly telling us about. So I found your copy of the first one, I really appreciate them having the number on them, and I started reading them to him. He fell asleep maybe an hour ago, I just didn’t want to stop reading in case he woke up again.” Bucky whispered. He reached to pick the book back up again but you held it close to you.

“Lay down, you look exhausted, let me read for a while okay, we’ll take turns,” You proposed. Bucky did not fight and lifted Steve slightly so he could slip down beneath the covers. You sat up, your side gently pressing into Steve’s back. You pulled your knees up and leaned back against the fluffy pillows. You made sure that your two boys were comfortable before starting where Bucky had left off [Chapter 5: Diagon Alley]. Your soft voice finally lulled Bucky to sleep, his breathing evening out as his dreams were filled of a magical place that he, as well as Steve, would come to love almost as much as they loved you.


I was in a really giddy mood and this was the result, let me know what you think!

-flawlessara

The Hundred Acre Woods

(as well as three other anons who prompted non-sexual little dan)

SUMMARY: Dan’s had a stressful day after a meeting with the BBC, and a gay-bashing on the streets qualifies him for some cuddling from his daddy.
WORD COUNT: 1,165
WARNINGS: non-sexual age play, slight homophobia (the gay f word)
A/N: camp nano didn’t eat me! Sorry that I haven’t written in literally 25 days but I did write a book so. Anyway, I cannot believe the number of anons who prompted non-sexual age-play and I hope that I came through? tbh somehow i became the little dan guru and i am okay with this.

“I cannot believe how late we are,” Dan hissed to Phil as they got into the taxi Phil had ordered just moments prior. Really, it wasn’t their fault they were running late. They had a long night and when Dan woke up hugged to Phil’s chest with his boyfriend’s hands limp in his hair, he didn’t really think to look at his phone to see the time. That is, of course, until a producer called and Dan answered with a sleepy, “hello?”

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Stop in the Name of Love! 3/3

This is my entry for @thebookjumper‘s Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon prompt: At Odds.

Season 5 AU. The flashback from 5x20 and Adrian Chase are not part of this story.  This story examines what Felicity and Oliver were thinking and feeling at the time.

Thank you so much for the likes and comments! I so hope you like the ending!

Thanks so much to @almondblossomme for proofing! All chapters available on AO3.


                           3. Negotiating and Renegotiating


Oliver realized as he tore out of the lair on his bike he really had nowhere to go. He drove for a while to try to cool down. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, he knew it was probably Felicity wondering where he was but he just couldn’t talk right now.


He knew that Felicity was not ready to get back together with him and he understood why. He had tried so hard to convince himself that being her friend was enough. At least she was in his life. But hearing her talking about marriage to someone else made him realize he’d been lying to himself. He had no idea what to do. You couldn’t force someone to marry you.


Maybe he could leave.  Right now, he was just lost. So, he decided to go the Mayor’s Office. He really couldn’t face Felicity.

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Book Mark

Early Merry Christmas, everyone! But a special merry Christmas to the person I was assigned for the FT Fic Exchange, Phantom​! I was so happy to write this one-shot for you; I hope my first attempt to writing Gajevy isn’t too horrible. :’) Please, enjoy! (Also can be read here.)

Pairing: Gajevy
Words: 5417
Summary: Receiving a computer for Christmas, Levy didn’t think an anonymous comment would become one of her most valuable treasures.
Special Note: This one-shot is a prequel to this story, but can still be read as its own! 

Every Christmas, Levy only expected to be given two things: new books and new bookmarks. But for the first time this year, she was given something that was just as great; if not, better.

“I can read so many stories on a computer!” she cheered as it was installed into her bedroom. She gleamed at her new, electronic friend. When she was alone, she jumped onto her computer chair and began browsing the internet.

Naturally, Levy’s first instinct was to search for any website related to books. It didn’t take long for her to stumble upon a website solely dedicated to posting reviews on them. This was when her enthusiasm grew even more—she had the perfect book to review first.

If she had to say how many times she had read her favorite book, she wouldn’t be able to give an answer. After reading the book at least once every month, everything became a blur, just like her fingers were as they flew across her keyboard. It was as though she prepared this review for years.

A smile was permanently printed onto Levy’s face after clicking the submit button. She didn’t mind if no one read it; she was happy enough that it was there for anyone to see.

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I miss you

“I miss you,” I said.
Dan laughed, a sound I almost couldn’t bear for the need it gave me to hug him or kiss him or hold him in some way. “I miss you too! Lots and lots.” He pulled a puppy dog face and I physically felt my heart melt inside my chest. “But I’ll be home soon! It’s only another week. I’m sorry it’s taking so long, but we had to stay long enough to meet with the publishers of our photo book, and there isn’t another plane with available seats.”
This made more sense, and the chronic worry id been struggling to suppress dissipated a little. It was so, so easy to slip into the idea that dan didn’t care about me and I would never be good enough for him, not because he ever showed it in any way, but simply because of the ridiculous number of people who wanted to fuck him. Not even the Queen bee of my high school had been that sexually desired.
“Are you okay (y/n)? Look I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would matter to you so much, I-”
Oh shit, I pissed him off. He’s going to think I’m being too clingy. “No I’m sorry, you needed to get it done, I understand, I’m not being reasonable.” I sounded too clunky and inexperienced to my own ears. I didn’t know how to express myself properly. I was messing everything up, left right and centre. I-
“No that wasn’t I meant! Oh (y/n), of course it wasn’t. I just meant that I hadn’t realised I.. I mean..”
Phil interrupted, sticking his head into view of Dan’s Web cam. “He means he didn’t expect to matter that much to you because he’s a self-deprecating little shit. Isn’t that right dan?”
Dan became covered in confusion and began many sentences, none of which he finished.
“You swore, phil!” I exclaimed, hiding a smile. “Since when??”
“Yeah, what’s happening to the world?” He grinned. “I dunno, I’m finding it weirdly liberating. Maybe I’ll swear more often. Did dan ever tell you about how we nearly didn’t get to Australia, by the way?”
“Anyway,” Dan said hastily. “I just needed to tell you we’ll be back in a week, so-”
“And he nearly blinded himself!!” Phil called, no longer in view.
“I’ll catch you later!” Dan said, and abruptly slammed his laptop shut.
I grinned to myself. None of that would be anything serious, otherwise dan would have told me and phil wouldn’t have joked about it, but I was intrigued.

                               *  *  *
“Cheese,” I muttered to myself. “Don’t tell me we’re out of cheese.”
When I was by myself, I always managed to slip into the habit of talking to myself, which amused dan immensely whenever he caught me doing it. It also amused him that I liked to make pizzas from scratch, not because I was afraid of the calories in a pizza, but just because I enjoyed it. He said it defeated the point of pizzas.

I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with all the cupboard doors open, woefully clutching the sugar tongs and lamenting the lack of cheese when the doorbell rang. My curiosity was limited, given that my mind was otherwise occupied, and I almost tripped over Dan’s shoes lying in the hallway, and clattered haphazardly down the stairs, wondering if I should bother going to the shop on a cheese quest or if I should just give up and order Domino’s.

All these thoughts screeched abruptly to a halt like a succession of cars pulling emergency stops to avoid a dog on a motorway when I opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, smile a little uncertain and vulnerable, and the idea that he could still be uncertain now, after all this time, splintered my heart a little bit.
“Fuck,” I said.
“May I come in?” He asked, with a mixture of sarcasm and vulnerability that made my knees a little weak, and, not trusting myself to speak again, I pulled him to me by the front of his sweatshirt and kissed him. He shuddered, his case falling from his grasp and his hands winding into my hair, trembling fingers and a wondering gaze and lips so hot against mine. His hair was warm and soft and I couldn’t bear it, everything so much as I had longed for that for a moment I couldn’t stand it.
“Are you okay?” He murmured, turning his face into my neck.
“No,” I answered, pulling him into the apartment. He made a small noise of protest and reached back to retrieve his case, and then the door closed on the street and his eyes were huge and brown and beautiful in the sudden comparitive darkness, and his hair was ruffled and curly and soft and his lips were slightly parted and he was staring at me without the slightest awareness that he was. I felt suddenly uncomfortably conscious of my appearance, and the knowledge that I wasn’t wearing any makeup and was wearing his huge university hoodie, and I couldn’t remember if I’d brushed my hair or if I’d washed it this morning, or the last time I’d slept properly.
“I’m making pizza,” I breathed.
“Are you,” he murmured. I felt the air move when he spoke, his face closer to mine, pale and exhausted but beautiful, and I suddenly remembered that we weren’t in an angsty teen novel, we were adults, and I could do whatever the hell I wanted.
“Don’t leave again.”
“I’m not sure if I could.” His hand came up and cupped my chin, his thumb brushing my cheek gently, and I struggled to meet his gaze but persevered, my jaw setting, and he laughed at that, at our ridiculousness and inadequacy, and I threw him up against the wall and kissed him again. He hit the wall hard, jolting a hiss of surprise from his lips, and I dug my nails into the small of his back, rucking up his sweatshirt and feeling his sharp intake of breath when the cool air of the hallway hit his bare stomach. He lifted me up and I wound my legs around his waist, clinging to his back as he carried me up the stairs, my chin jarring once against his shoulder.

“I was making pizza,” I informed him again, more as a matter of general interest than with the expectation of it having any effect, as he threw me bodily onto his bed and collapsed on top of me, pulling the covers over us.
“Mmmm.” He kissed my neck, soft hair tickling. I slid my hands into it again with a sigh. Our legs tangled warm in the sea of cold, crisp sheets, and he pulled the duvet up over his head like a tent and looked up at me, wide adorable eyes and tousled hair and a sexy half smile that turned my insides to syrup.
“I love you,” I said.