this is how it is going to happen in fic

nsolace  asked:

hello friend!!! (I call everyone I talked to over the internet friend, don't feel pressured to actually be my friend) 1. I found this fic I think you'll like archiveofourown[.]org/works/10409778 2. how's the loverboy au going on the sims?

HELLO FRIEND!!!

1) you are literally like the 5th person to message me this fic today and I finally read it with my dinner tonight (kimchi jigae if anyone is curious (no one is kait stop it)) and HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY THIS I THE OTAPLIROY CONTENT I NEEED i’m dying i love it so much (sobs)

2) Well, I couldn’t get the polyamory mod to like legit work (where they can all get married), but I cheated it so that at least no stupid jealousy happens. So, Otabek and Yuri are married and JJ is Yuri’s boyfriend also, and Yuri has a want to get married to him but alas the game still thinks polyamory isn’t a thing so they all just live in their sweet condo together. Beka is learning to DJ and they all did hookah together, and that made me realize JJ totally needs a hookah in the loverboy AU because of course he’d have one. Omfg.

anonymous asked:

hI! I really love youe works, they are incredible and Klaus is always so IC! But may I ask a question if you don't mind? I've read somewhere that you didn't watch tvd, so i wonder how did you come to fandom, start ship KC and how is it possible that you so so so brilliantly write Klaus?

I have indeed not watched a single episode of TVD. I did watch the scene with the languages and the sword, and the phone call. But that’s it. Now that the show is over, at some point I’ll have to track down episodes and watch, but that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon.

I actually came into the TVD fandom through Steroline. An author that I enjoy had a bunch of S1 and S2 fics about them, and the dynamic was interesting. I always enjoy friends to lovers, and you never see enough of that handle well in fanfic or television. So I read all her fanfic and then read all the fanfic on A03, and eventually I got really fucking bored with it. While I love that trope, the characterization of them in most of the stories was seriously, seriously bland. I’m all for Battle Buddies and Sober Sponsors, but their fanfiction dynamic just stopped working for me.

Throughout all of those stories, there were these little sprinkles of Klaus being mentioned. I honestly had no idea who that was or what his role in the TV Show was but I like a good bad guy. Then I read ‘A Moth Danced with the Flame’ by Tarafina, and I was very intrigued by the difference in how Caroline was written.

For most of the fanfic I read (which was a lot, but the dynamic could’ve changed, but doubtful) Caroline was written as nice. She was written as someone who put Stefan first, who was soft, and gentle. In one tiny short fic, Tarafina had a completely different character in place, which was fascinating, because she wrote good steroline. And I was floored by how different the relationship was in terms of WHY the characters were there. It wasn’t a weird mix of friendship/guilt, and the dynamic was so much better.

So I headed over to A03 and went digging. I found @avari20 , and later @willowaus and @cbk1000 and pretty much fell in love with the klaroline dynamic. I read a lot of fanfiction outside of those authors, read a lot of meta, some by @hellsbellschime, some by others, and just basically fell in love with Klaus?

I love that he is an asshole. I love that he thinks he is (and he usually is) the smartest person in the room. I love that he has no boundaries, has this giant god complex, is crazy cakes and violent and has basically spent the entirety of his life being hunted and taking that out on everything around him. And I absolutely adore the fact that this tiny, vindictive, sparkling sunshine of a baby vampire put him on his ass.

So for me, my mental idea of Klaus is a mishmash of my own personal head canon, the canon/fanon of those who have watched TVD, and the fact that I actually love his character. I do get things wrong (or just straight up ignore most of the canon) a voice or particular piece of mythology. It’s rare that I write Enzo, because I’m still feeling him out. It’s kind of hilarious when people point that out. I remember my very first chapter of Requiem, someone was SUPER offended if dropped the Y from Hayley’s name.

So, for writing, I just write what I wish they’d done with Klaus. And I write the dynamic between Klaroline I wish had been explored. That it resonates with other people will never stop making me happy, because I just fucking love those two knuckle heads.

More importantly, I love them together.

And I think loving the characters goes a long way and speaks a lot about the apathy of the TVD writing team.

TL;DR: I write fanfic on the backs of those who came before me honestly.

Klaroline Review/Recommendation

If you are in the mood for angsty romance, My Love is Vengeance by ALostHeart, is one for you!


It doesn’t matter how many times I read this, which has been many, I still cry even though I know what is going to happen. If you’ve never read this story before let me give you some advice, after you read it the first time go back and read it again. You will pick up on things you didn’t see the first time around. The emotional roller coaster you will go through with this story is as intense as it is stunningly beautiful!

Yes it get very angsty and dark BUT much like canon…Klaroline is EndGame!

Enough - A Moriel Fic

(Not edited and maybe not even all that coherent this just sort of…happened and I went with them.) 

For @cuddles-and-chocolate-cake (thank you!! this got a bit longer than a small dabble so I formatted it properly like this instead of just answering your ask!) 

Title: Enough 

Summary: Prompt: Moriel + slowly. Projected towards the end of ACOWAR, the Second War is over and Mor and Azriel finally acted on their feelings. But Az still has some reservations over whether or not he’s ready to completely accept them. 

TeaserThe Second War washed away that line between them, like footprints on a beach, until it was as though it had never been, as though it had always been nothing more than an impression printed on both of their souls, the ghost of their demons trembling before them. Fear and battle and the threat of losing each other, of losing everything had shattered the illusion like a thin pane of glass struck by a hurricane. 

Link: AO3 

Five hundred years. Five hundred years they waited. Half a millennia they spent apart, their entire lives in limbo, watching, waiting, never daring to cross that line between them. 

He would have waited another five centuries, another hundred immortal lifetimes for her and thanked the Cauldron for every second he was allowed to just be in her presence. 

Now she’s told him that she feels the same way. That she waited. Waited for him. That she would have kept on waiting for him, for him to be ready, until her last breath if that had been what he had needed. Sometimes he still struggles to believe her. Sometimes he still wants to step back over to his side of the line where he still thinks he ought to be. But she gently holds his hand and keeps him by her side, always. And that is where he belongs. 

The Second War washed away that line between them, like footprints on a beach, until it was as though it had never been, as though it had always been nothing more than an impression printed on both of their souls, the ghost of their demons trembling before them. Fear and battle and the threat of losing each other, of losing everything had shattered the illusion like a thin pane of glass struck by a hurricane. 

He still does not know which of them moved first. Perhaps they moved together, as they always have, in dance or in battle, seamless, effortless, perfect. As though they were made for this, as though when the Cauldron forged them they were one; one being split into two but never forgetting where it came from, never forgetting what it ought to be. 

All he knows is that one moment that barrier was between them, a rippling veil of uncertainty beyond which lay something neither of them dared look at for too long in all their years. And then it was gone. Gripped by two hands; one large, one small, one callused, one delicate, one scarred, one smooth, and together they tore it down. 

Then his lips were on hers or her lips were on his but his fingers were in her hair and her hands were gripping his shirt and pulling him closer and…And he was kissing her. Her lips were parting for his tongue and her taste was filling his mouth and he was drowning in her. Azriel was no stranger to staring the waiting abyss in the eyes and denying it just once more. Death and he were old friends now, a friend he visited regularly, delivering others or himself it made little matter. But this.

 When his lips met hers he knew he had never truly courted death at all. Death was not a dark, cold apparition like the shadows that flitted about his skin, his soul. Death was not a hooded male shrouded in lies and gleeful smiles for the souls he could claim. Death did not taste of sorrow and bitterness and frozen ashes, no. 

Death was a lover. Death was a woman wrapped up in silks, gilded in sunshine and drenched in wonder. Death was warm and tender and gentle. Death tasted like the whiskey they had shared in his tent just before the call to arms was issued. Death smelled like citrus and cinnamon and cherry scented shampoo. Death was this moment, this kiss, rich and deep, that he had waited for for more than five centuries. Death was worth every second it had taken to claim him. Death was a love so deep he knew it would now be impossible to live without it, without her. 

Azriel is still afraid, still so afraid of everything. That kiss seems to mark a break in time, there was before that moment and there is after that moment and it feels impossible to reconcile the two.

 Before the kiss was safe, was structured, was known and familiar and comfortable. They had lived in that for five hundred years and it had been good. Not everything he wanted, not everything he secretly hoped for, not everything he had dreamed but…It had been enough. It was enough. His mantra for the five centuries they’d spent apart. Her mantra too, she had whispered to him one night as she lay curled in his arms. A position that felt, so right, yet his demons still hissed snidely was so wrong. 

After the kiss is unknown, unpredictable, and wild. Like trying to fly through a storm he has no say in where the sky will carry him to, he can only flare his wings and pray it does not let him fall. It has not yet but if it does some day, he thinks, he will gladly tumble into that waiting void and there will be a smile on his lips. He thinks that means they did the right thing, no matter what comes next. 

That does not stop him wanting to be careful. Always careful, always precise, and in this above all things…He wishes to handle her with care, with the tenderness and delicacy that she deserves. He wants to take his time and had quietly insisted they move slowly with this. The last thing he had ever wanted to do, and the thing he had been most afraid of, was doing something that she might later regretted. 

It has been almost a month since that first kiss and though everything has changed, in some ways nothing has. He still hovers, still hesitates, still resists her and holds himself back from doing everything he wants. She sleeps in his bed, in his arms, her head pillowed against his shoulder as though this has always been the way it’s been. But still he insists that they wait. He wants her, Cauldron he wants her more than anything in this world but…He swore to himself that he would give her time, time to change her mind, time to leave, time to realise she deserves better… 

Groaning, Azriel rolls his shoulder and flexes his wings, shaking out the stiffness that’s gathered in them. Meetings. In some ways, fighting in the war was preferable to sitting in all of these discussions listening to the High Lords and Ladies talk over one another as they debate politics. But he’s free now, free to seek her out. 

Opening the door to his, their, chambers, he pads inside and freezes in the doorway, blinking. Mor stands just inside, obviously waiting for him, obviously just having stopped pacing up and down his usual path in front of the fire. She looks stunning, the dress she has on a deep, rippling cobalt, the same shade as the siphons he bears. She also looks nervous. 

Shutting the door quietly behind him Azriel walks towards her, concern darkening his hazel eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks softly, reaching out to her and instinctively tucking a lock of her thick, golden hair behind her ear so he can see her face. So odd, so odd not having to fight those instincts, so odd to be allowed to touch her this way, intimately, lovingly, the way he’s always wanted to. 

She shakes her head, “Nothing’s wrong, Az,” she says, but her voice trembles slightly as she says it and he’s sure she’s not being honest with him. Before he can question her further however she stands on her toes, curling a hand behind his head, the tips of her fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck as she coaxes him down to kiss her. 

Each one still ruins him in a way he never thought anyone could. He never expected to give anyone else this power over him, only her, and he never expected that she would ever wield it in this way. Her tongue brushes his and he melts for her, every mask cracking and crumbling to dust, every bit of armour sliding from him as though molten, pooling on the floor at her feet and leaving him bare before her. 

Mor breaks the kiss between them but keeps his face cupped in her hand, her eyes searching his for something. He wishes he knew what it was, wishes he could gift it to her, wishes he could stop her looking so uncertain. But then a smile is spreading across her face, slow and warm and deliberate as the rising sun and he can’t help the ease that settles over him too in answer. 

“I love you,” she whispers softly, sincerely, without a trace of doubt or hesitation in her as she looks into his eyes. 

He swallows, blinking, startled at this. She hasn’t said those words to him, not since their kiss and never in this way and he can’t breathe. His chest is tight, as though his heart has swollen up and crushed his lungs, leaving no room for anything inside him but the way she makes him feel. 

“I love you too,” he breathes onto her lips. The words come without permission, without thought. Because they’re true. He loves her. He’s loved her from the moment their eyes met and she looked at him the way she did, smiled at him the way she did and he has never been able to deny her that love. 

That smile on her face broadens until it’s radiant and he feels like it could sustain him for years. Then she draws back slightly, fishing in her pockets for something he can’t see before she turns back to him. 

“I know tattooing is traditional,” she begins, her voice strangely breathless. “And we can do that if you want, I I’d like that,” he blinks at her, utterly lost as she moves closer. He’s never seen her so anxious, so unsure of herself before and he wants nothing more than to take her in his arms and make her feel safe and secure. 

“Mor-” He begins softly but she continues on, heedless of his interruption. 

 “But…I wanted to do it this way.” Swallowing she reaches out and takes his hands softly in hers. Placing one over the other she covers them both with her own and he jolts as the realisation of what she’s about to do hits him a moment before she does it. 

“Morrigan,” he rasps out in warning, his eyes wide, his throat constricted as he stares at her. 

She smiles, a hint of sadness in her molten brown eyes. “I’m sure,” she whispers, nodding her head. As though she’s heard every protest, every doubt in his head she goes on, one hand reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking with her thumb. “I love you, Azriel,” she breathes quietly. “I’ve loved you almost our entire lives. I will always love you, Az.” She kisses him then, quick and brief, as though she can’t help herself, as though she needs the contact, needs to express what she’s feeling in some physical way to try and make him understand.

Taking a deep breath she straightens, holding herself like a queen, like a goddess carved of mortal flesh, she looks at him, looks into his eyes and he knows she sees everything. She’s been there for it all, every shadow, every demon, every stain upon his soul and still. Still she looks at him like that. As though he’s as precious to her as she is to him. As though she might burst from the depth of her love for him, even as he thinks he will for her. As though…As though she truly means every word she’s just spoken to him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” she tells him quietly, “I know you,” she tells him quietly, “I know you’re scared. I know you don’t- I know you wanted to take it slow, to give me time to run, to change my mind, to find someone,” she breaks off, jaw tightening as she refuses to force the word out, the word that’s haunted him for centuries.

Composing herself enough she gets out, “But…I’m not going anywhere, Azriel.” She blinks rapidly and a single tear slips from her eyes. He brushes it away without thinking and she continues, “I’ll wait for you. For however long it takes until you’re ready.” He opens his mouth but no words come out, emotion clogs his throat and tears slowly fill his own eyes but he holds them back, watching her, awe in every fibre of him.

“I will wait for you, I promise. But I need you to know that…I want this. I’m surer of this than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.” She swallows, breathing deeply as she presses something small and circular into his palm then tenderly closes his scarred fingers around it. “I want to marry you, Azriel.” His heart stutters to a halt as he looks down at his hand, almost afraid to open it. “Now. In a month. In a decade. In a millennia. I don’t care. I just…I want to be your wife.” He looks up at her again in time to watch her say softly, “If you’ll have me.”

Swallowing tightly past the lump in his own throat he reluctantly looks away from her shining eyes and down to his hand. Slowly uncurling his fingers Azriel looks down at the ring in his palm. Simple, elegant, three thin bands of silver that are woven through one another endlessly with no clearly defined beginning or end. It had belonged to his mother and it’s the only thing he has left of her.

He glances back up at Mor again and finds her staring at him, visibly trembling as she waits for his reaction. “Az?” she whispers hesitantly, voice straining with nerves, hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

Slowly, deliberately, Az moves forwards and lifts her hand gently and coaxes her fingers to unclench. Tears flow freely down both of their faces as he lovingly slides the ring into place on her finger, marvelling at how well it fits. Her face splits into a broad grin and she throws herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and Azriel finds himself laughing as he slides his arms around her, holding her close. Her lips meet his in a deep, slow kiss and he folds his wings tenderly around them as he carries her slowly back towards the bed.

 Five hundred years. Five hundred years they waited. It’s been long enough.

Little Things

Word Count: 4876

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Pure fluff. Little bit of angst. But pure fluff. 

A/N: I don’t really know how this happened. It’s pretty bad but @nichelle-my-belle @impala-dreamer and @bringmesomepie56 told me to keep going with it so I did. I apologize in advance for this mess. 

Written for @redlipstickandplaid ‘s birthday challenge. My prompt was hangover. 



“De?” You padded your way into Dean’s room, blanket clutched tightly in one hand, your eyes filled with tears and your thumb in your mouth. “De.” You shook him and he groaned, blinking awake, seeing you standing there.

“Y/N? What is it?” He mumbled sleepily, taking in your state.

“I…I…” You kept stuttering, unable to get the words out through your fear for a minute. Dean just stared at you, trying to wake up and take it all in. “I had a bad dream. Can I sleep here?” It wasn’t uncommon for your nightmares to bring you to Dean’s room, but you generally just threw yourself into bed with him and cuddled up. Something was off about you. Your mannerisms were weird. Your voice was higher pitched. He just couldn’t place exactly what was going on.

“Yeah, of course. Get in.” He pulled back the blankets and scooted over for you and you crawled into bed, much like a child would have, snuggling up against him and putting your head on his chest. That’s when it hit him. The witch. She’d muttered some bullshit at you earlier that day and nothing happened. You’d insisted you were fine but you’d been acting weird ever since.

“Y/N…sweetheart? How old are you?” Dean questioned.

“Four.” You sniffled.

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catcatonkittycrack  asked:

Do you happen to have any klance fic recommendations??

I DO! Sorry this took so long I had to go through my history to find some of the ones I really liked!

5 signs of Keith falling in love (feat. Lance) By Talinor (rated T)// Completed

I really liked this one, it’s basically showing how Keith progresses in realizing his feelings for lance and how they form. It even has a bit of Galra Keith in there. A teeny bit of angst but nothing too bad.

so why dont we fall by aknightly (rated E)// Completed

Oblivious Keith, which I usually don’t like but it was okay in this fic. It has some angst about the word love being used and cute nicknames that Lance uses for Keith. This one is super popular so you’ve probably read it but I thought I’d add it anyway.

Marital Mayhem by genellio (rated T)// WIP

This one is basically the team go down to a plant to look for supplies and the Galra go after them. Lance and Keith stumble into a religious temple and its like a big romance holiday where couples come to get married, and they have to fake a relationship so they can get safety at the temple until they can get to their lions. It’s really good so far

you never stood a chance by kagshina (rated T)// Completed

This is hands down my favorite Klance fic I’ve ever read. It has Keith and Lance accidentally becoming friends (through a wild accident on Lance’s part) and progresses from there. Angst in the form of what I would say is miscommunication and mutual pining. If you read any off this list, definitely read this one. 

I Dont believe you by pheonixyfriend (rated T)// Completed

If you never stood a chance is my fave this is my second favorite. It deals some with Lance’s emotional insecurities over his place on the team, and Keith dealing with his realized feelings for Lance. It has everyone concerned for Lance and Lance refusing to accept some compliments. It is really good and the Klance is awesome in iot, even if there’s angst.

That which is accessible by constellationqueen (rated G)// Complete

Pretty much just Lance comforting Keith after everyone finds out that he’s Galra

I wish you were mine by Reader115 (rated T)// Complete

A university AU in which Keith befriends Lance through Hunk and Pidge and their relationship progresses from there. It has Lance helping Keith with some of the work he doesn’t understand and an ER visit. Jealous Lance closer to the middle and end, Keith is a personal trainer, and Lance swims. It’s definitely in my top five favorites.

Miraculous by Merridiangrimm (rated T)// Complete, but may be a series

Follows some aspects of the show The miraculous Ladybug with Keith as Ladybug and Lance as Chat Noir. Basically Keith pining over Lance, who he thinks hates him, Keith making friends with Chat Noir and vice versa. It even has Keith arguing that Chat is the best hero, while Lance is on Ladybugs side. The whole Voltron team carries Miraculous’. It’s nice.

Relentless by anonymouschupacabra (rated G)//Complete

A short fic about Keith drunkenly telling Lance he’s never been on a date and then Lance trying to convince Keith to let him take him on a date. It’s funny and not long so it’s good for a quick read.

got got got it bad by kairiolette (rated T)//Complete

Keith realizes his feelings for Lance, and goes through the five stages of grief because Lance doesn’t reciprocate his feelings and he knows that because near the beginning of the fic Lance admits it. The ending is really sweet and how hard Lance is trying. But don’t read if you don’t like heavy angst.

Closer by chloroophyll (rated T)// Complete

A rivals to friends to lovers fic where Keith realizes his feelings for Lance very early on and has to deal with Lance’s animosity towards him but they become friends or at least something less than rivals. Then goes into Lance’s realization of his own feelings. It even has suave Keith at one point which I appreciated. The ending is adorable and eek!

Miscommunications and failures (Multiple ratings) Is a series 

Super awesome. Lance and Keith have a one night stand, but Lance leaves early in the morning before Keith wakes up. There’s angst because of a miswritten phone call and the fact that later that day Hunk goes out to eat with Hunk and his friend who ends up being Keith. It ends happily and there are three installments so far, all that are really good. 

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

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omgkatsudonplease  asked:

viktuuri totinos ad: viktor is the totinos guy and yuuri is kristen stewart

“Hey Victor, where are the Totinos?” Christophe asks from the couch.

There’s a man in the kitchen. Victor doesn’t know he got there, but he doesn’t question it. He stares, silent – there’s a box of Totinos on the counter to his left. With one hand, he reaches for it, and then pauses, second-guessing himself.

“Hello,” the man says, and his hair is as black as a raven’s wings, his eyes as brown as the depths of the earth. Then, the stranger glances at the box, steps closer to Victor and picks it up. He’s wearing a black outfit with silver crystals scattered up one side. “Totinos?”

“For… For my hungry guys,” Victor explains, quiet, sparing a glance at the couch where Christophe, Yurio, Georgi, Leo, Guang Hong, Michele, Seung-gil, Phichit, and more are sitting, watching Skate Canada.

“What are you hungry for?” the man asks, and his voice is sultry, enticing.

In an instant, he’s pressed against the kitchen counter. The stranger takes the box in hand again, removes a Totino and traces it down Victor’s cheek, a smooth line. Victor watches, entranced, and then meets the other man’s lips, hand slipping up his shirt.

“What’s going on? Are you making out with somebody back there?” Christophe calls, and laughter comes from the other side of the room.

The scene fades to black. Totinos.

I’m Yours

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have strong feelings for Bucky, but you’re afraid they could ruin your friendship with him, Bucky on the other hand, feels differently.

Word Count: 2,079

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, sexual content

A/N: This isn’t 100% smut, but it’s enough for you to know what happens. This is my first fic like this, so please be gentle and bear with me. I’m slowly making my way towards it actually going all the way. (I hope that made sense) Anywho, enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love getting feedback! :)

Originally posted by painfulblisss

(GIFs not mine, credit to owner)



“So (Y/N), when are you going to tell him?”

You groaned, you’ve been asked that multiple times over the past few weeks. They were always a variation of that question, didn’t matter how many times they were said, you literally heard them all.

“That’s the thing Nat, I can’t!” You huffed, “It’s too soon anyways.”

You were helping Nat put away everything after training with her all morning. You had to train earlier than usual that morning because Sam and Steve were going to be training the new recruits later on in the day. So they needed the space.

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the second task

The second task of the Triwizard Tournament as seen by Lily and James


Lily: He is going to sleep through the bloody task.

James: Not if Dobby wakes him up first.

Lily: What difference does it make if he can’t survive one hour under the water?

James: Apparently Dobby thinks he can.

Lily: How?

James: I don’t care to be honest, he just does. 

Lily: What the hell is a Wheezy?

James: I think he means Weasley.

Lily: Oh dear god, they hid Ron under the lake. What happens after one hour? The song was perfectly clear–

James: Don’t be ridiculous, Dumbledore wouldn’t let them drown.

Lily: Are you sure?

James: *suspiciously* Yeah?

Lily: Thank heavens, Dobby brought Gillyweed.

James: It looks disgusting.

Lily: Very but it will give him fish-like traits, he will be able to stay under the water. But how the hell Dobby knew about this?

James: Yet again, I don’t care. Oh look, he heard it in the staff room, don’t fret it. 

The task starts and Harry takes the Gillyweed.

Lily: Told you it would work.

James: Have you, uh, ever met merpeople?

Lily: No.

James: Yes I can tell. They are not the friendliest of creatures.

Lily: Great. Brilliant. He is going to die.

James: Okay maybe you should stay a bit more positive.

Moaning Myrtle comes out of nowhere and points Harry in the right direction.

Lily: I think Myrtle is in love with Harry.

James: *to himself* She has a type then.

Lily: What?

James: Nothing.

Lily: Ew, they look so scary. I wonder who they took for the other champions.

James: Well, look no further. Is this some kind of a joke? They took Ron, Hermione and Cho. I bet he’ll try to save all of them.

Lily: *smiling* Yeah, probably. He takes after you.

Harry takes Ron and tries to save Hermione, too.

James: Called it!

Lily: He will get hurt while trying to save everything and everyone.

James: A true Gryffindor and a Potter, unnecessary bravery and the need to save everything.

Lily: Oh finally Cedric arrived. Why isn’t Harry going to the surface?

James: Just in case Krum and Fleur don’t come.

Lily: He took the song way too literally.

James: What the fuck did Krum do to himself?

Lily: A really bad transfiguration attempt.

James: *cockily* Amateur.

Lily: I don’t think Fleur is coming.

James: Fucking hell. Just go up Harry.

Lily: He is threatening the merpeople. Marvellous.

James: Oh, yeah, he really shouldn’t do that.

Lily: They are letting him save her?

James: *shocked* They are. But he will come in last. 

Lily: I don’t care. His heart is too pure for the life he is living.

James: The effect of Gillyweed is wearing off, he will drown.

Lily: Come on baby, come on a little bit more.

James: Harry, come on son. Yes!

Lily: *breathing again* I think I died again.

James: *angrily* Too soon.

Lily: It’s been thirteen years.

James: Still, too soon.

Points are being announced.

Lily: Cedric got 47, well he came in first so that makes sense.

James: I can’t believe they gave Krum 40. That fuck up of a transfiguration didn’t deserve anything.

Lily: He saved Hermione nevertheless, don’t be so bitter.

James: I’m not bitter

Lily: They gave him 45 POINTS for moral fibre. Merpeople talked to the judges. 

James: What the hell? How does each and every magical creature love this kid?

Lily: Who cares? He is tied in first place with Cedric.

James: *excitedly* He is! Isn’t he? Youngest wizard to win the Triwizard Tournament, I tell you. 

Lily: Like he needs anymore legacy.

James: Well he doesn’t but shit happens.

Lily: I need to mentally prepare myself for the third task Jamie.

James: I mean I don’t think the third task can be worse then the Hungarian Horntail.

Lily: You are talking way too early again.

James: Fucking– I take it back, okay? I take it back.

anonymous asked:

person a seducing person b into taking a few steps back/backing them against the wall (”oh look, how did that mistletoe get right there????”) - BELLARKE OMG

A\N: Well, that was a goddamn satisfactory trailer, so as promised, have some fic y’all!!

________________

Here is what you have to understand: Clarke did not set out to seduce Bellamy Blake.

If anything, honestly, he started it.

It happens after one too many drinks, the roof of her tongue burning from the acrid taste of tequila and Bellamy’s arm wound in his as they stumble out of the door, cursing the cold and the layer of ice frosted over the sidewalks.

The night is a bust considering they’re going home to Netflix and cold Chinese food; and he’s grousing about the conspicuous lack of kisses he got under the mistletoe this year when the words burst out of her, unwarranted.

“Look, I’ll kiss you if you’re going to make such a big deal out of it.”

That gets him to stop in his tracks, brows rising up to his hairline. “Are you— Wait, you’re volunteering?”

She rolls her eyes at that, has to work to keep her voice nonchalant. “If it gets you to shut up? Then, yeah. Definitely.”

He smirks at that, patting at her shoulder consolingly. “I knew my charm would get to you someday, Griffin. It’s okay. You can admit it, you know.”

Her skin heats at that, despite her best attempt to tamp down the small rush of excitement that bubbles up at the thought of kissing him. It’s not as if kissing her best friend is some sort of secret fantasy she harbours or anything, but Clarke will willingly admit that she has thought about it. More than once, in fact.

It doesn’t work, if the delighted laugh Bellamy gives is any indication. “Holy shit,” he says, whirling onto her. “You’re actually— you’re— you want to kiss me, don’t you?”

“No!” She yelps, mostly out of instinct. “As if, Bellamy Blake.” She blusters, folding her arms across her chest. Then, primly, “I would sooner make out with a sasquatch than you.”

Her heart sinks at the gleam in his eye, the jerk of his chin. She recognizes a challenge when she sees one, and considering who it’s coming from, she knows she’s in it for a long haul.

“Whatever you say.” He says lowly, reaching forward to brush his fingers through her hair, lingering, as she shivers, her eyes fluttering shut automatically. Then, with a distinct note of triumph in his voice, he adds, “You should shake the snow out of your hair, Princess.”

That, as far as she knows, is the beginning of the end.

Keep reading

I feel like SJM goes through Tumblr and reads EVERYTHING

I’ve been going through fan theories, fics, arguments over ships, etc., and I can’t help but feel like @sjmaas goes through all of them as well. It’s funny because, truly, it doesn’t matter how much we want something to happen because these are HER books and she ultimately decides what happens in them. She knows what ships are endgame, who’s gonna die/survive and what is going to happen in both ACOTAR and TOG. So here I am reading all of this and I can’t help but picture SJM sitting at her computer, reading the same material, looking like this:

Originally posted by matzharvey

I don’t know why, but I kept thinking about Harry’s first tattoo this morning.

It happens a few years out of Hogwarts, after Auror training when Harry has enough experience to lead some missions or go onto the field on his own without an older supervisor.

He, Ron, Hermione, and a smattering of others from their lines of work gather every other Friday at their favorite bar tucked into the edge of Diagon Alley. It’s how they unwind after a long week at work, catch up when life becomes too hectic to know what everyone’s up to. And it’s not too popular which allows them to relax without worrying about press or excited citizens. 

It’s late, and mostly everyone has decided to head home, but Harry is just tipsy enough that he knows he may get sick after floo-ing home and he can’t concentrate enough for what’s required to apparate. So he exits the bar and wanders down the darkened streets of Diagon Alley to clear his head, thankful that everyone is too wrapped up in their own business to care that Harry Potter is in their vicinity. A few people gasp, nod, and wave at him, which he tries to minimize and keep moving.

He stumbles upon the tattoo shop by accident, ducking into the nearest door when he hears a sharp “Oh! Wait! Is that–?” from behind. 

The shop is empty save for a light coming from a back room, and Harry considers leaving again before whoever works here comes out to see him in their shop, but then movement against the wall catches his eye and he’s mesmerized into stillness. The walls are covered with prints, various small designs and occasionally larger pieces scattered all over in a similar aesthetic common in muggle tattoo shops, except these tattoos move. They twirl and interact like the paintings in Hogwarts, though they’re silent while doing so. He sees tiny broomsticks zooming across the walls, butterflies, birds, owls, and even dementors flying alongside them. There are hearts that actually beat, flames that flicker, typewriter text that repeatedly appears and disappears. There’s a whole section of ladies who giggle together, waving and winking when they notice him noticing them. One of the mermaids whispers to her friend and Harry finds himself blushing at artwork, wondering if they can actually gossip in whatever plane of existence these things exist in.

“Sorry mate, we’re closed,” a gruff voice announces behind him and it takes all of Harry’s training to prevent him from flinching or looking like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. The man from the back is dressed very casually for Diagon Alley, in a sweater with rolled up sleeves and dark jeans. Before Harry can even register his face, however, his eyes zero in on the moving images on his forearms. He’s not close enough to see details, but he thinks he catches sight of a rose blooming and wilting in a continuous loop. An actual moving tattoo.

“You hear me?” the man asks again, his tone making it clear that Harry isn’t welcome at this time. 

“S-sorry,” Harry stutters, still feeling the after affects the drinks. His brain feels slow and clumsy, like he can’t keep up with this new process of information.

He knows he’s recognized as soon as the man’s eyes flicker to the scar on his forehead. Thankfully, the man doesn’t seem to care all that much about who he is. “Boy savior or not, we’re closed. I know I didn’t lock up yet but we aren’t open until 11 tomorrow. If you want a tat I suggest you come back then.” There’s a pregnant pause and the man’s eyes seem to see through him. “When you’re sober.”

“I wasn’t looking to get a tattoo,” Harry tries to explain.

“Then you’re really in the wrong place.” He gestures to the door and Harry turns to leave, not wanting to get on this guy’s wrong side or continue invading a closed shop. 

Right as he’s about to open the door, a flash of gold jerks away from the handle and Harry’s eyes (tipsy or not) are fixed on the familiar movement. He follows the shiny blur as it streaks across the walls, avoiding all of the other designs with ease before settling in the back corner, nearly disappearing within a pot of gold at the bottom of a rainbow. A snitch. He hasn’t played quidditch in so long…

“If you change your mind you can come back tomorrow, kid. Closed means no more customers.” Harry considers making a comment about not being a kid anymore but decides against it, leaving the shop and walking out onto the thankfully empty street.

Harry returns to the bar and uses their floo to make it back home. He thankfully doesn’t throw up but he lays awake in bed that night thinking about that tattoo shop, imagining all the different pieces of art people could have moving on their bodies.


He can’t stop thinking about the shop. It’s been a month and he’s still thinking about it. His brain has started to imagine different moving pieces on his own body and he spends a much longer time shirtless in front of the mirror considering what it might look like. He asks around, and not many people seem to have these sorts of tattoos. “I’ve heard about it,” Auror Johnson tells him, “But I think it’s new. Tattoos have always been more popular with muggles.” 

Hermione tells him that tattoos, permanent markers, have always been something wizards are cautious of. Something about ancient runes and the connection between artist and canvas. 

Ron scoffs loudly and explains the story of Bill and Charlie’s little adventure to get tattoos years back. How his mom had been furious and forbade any of the rest of them from even thinking about doing the same. “She’s popped in on us in the shower before, just to make sure.” Harry doesn’t have to ask to know that Charlie probably has a wicked dragon tattoo somewhere on his person. 

The more he thinks about it, the more anxious he is to return to the tattoo shop.


He goes back three months after the accidental entry. He’s walked past the outside numerous times, always passing it when he’s in the area getting drinks. The bright neon TATTOO sign out front is magical, the winding neon strands changing fonts and colors as it hovers in front of the shop. It’s calling out to him, literally and metaphorically.

He makes an appointment that night, right before closing, and the shop owner warns him against drinking beforehand. Because 1) he won’t do a tattoo Harry will change his mind about and 2) it doesn’t actually help you ignore the pain like people think it will. Magical tattoos don’t hurt any less than muggle ones.

Harry figures if he can die and come back to life that a tattoo won’t be so bad. 

He’s right.

That night he goes home and immediately strips off his t-shirt, standing in front of the mirror, smiling at the reddened flesh on his ribs that’s wrapped up and in a still position until it’s healed enough. It should be ready within a few days, the shop owner had said. Harry stares at the design in the mirror, giddy with excitement at his reckless decision for the first time in too long.


It becomes a game of sorts for Harry to play a Seeker’s game in the mirror after a shower or when he’s brushing his teeth. The golden snitch flits around his body with speed that’s startlingly accurate, wings fluttering at a pace that’s nearly invisible to the naked eye. It disappears behind his back, around his arms, hides itself in his hair. His hand jerks out to catch it right as it ducks down his neck, chest, under his pants. Harry laughs, feeling comfortable in this skin with it’s new companion.

He wakes up the next morning with the sunlight streaming into his bedroom through the light colored curtains. His vision is blurry without his glasses, but he sees the snitch tucked in his right palm, wings folded inside almost as if it too is sleeping. Harry curls his fingers, mouth twitched into a sleepy grin, and falls back asleep.

Seeing

I have no freaking idea what is happening or what I am doing. I woke up this morning and wrote this down. I am scared shitless but @therobbinsnest told me to “GET UP AND STOP HIDING” so that is what I am doing….. I’m not fancy enough to know how to put things or post things…I just read and read and read and now I’m hyperventilating so there’s that too….oh and my hands are shaking and I’m going to barf up my own heart as soon as I push post….so ta-da!

This is my first ever fan-fic story. Written, posted. The whole nine yards.

Keep reading

Making the Grade - Ch. 1

The only sound Poppy Miller could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.  The words were swimming in front of her eyes.  “Clerical error…unable to complete graduation application…missing credits.”  Reaching up with a trembling hand, she pulled her laptop closed with a quiet click.  “No no no no no.  This is not how this is supposed to go.  This is not how this is supposed to happen.”   Her voice was thick, the words tinged with panic.  She rolled away from the small desk in her cramped office and dropped her head between her knees and started counting.  “100…99…98…97…”  The numbers had always soothed Poppy, even when she was a small girl.  They never changed, there was always order, and they never faltered.  Saying them out loud made her feel like she was in control and centered, even when things in her world were spinning into chaos.

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Give away: Celebrating 1,000 Followers!!!!

Oh boy oh boy oh boy!!!! So it happened I finally reach 1,000 followers!!! So here is what I’m going to do- I’m going to give away either a fic or a piece of art. Your choice on which you would like (I’m guessing the fic). You will then have your choice of pairing and whether you would like crack, fluff, sin, or angst!!! (I do not do smut). 

How to enter:

1. follow me

2. like or reblog

Yup that’s it! The winner will be chosen at random and I will be announcing the winner after my finals are done – Mar. 24th! The winner will be messaged and must reply within 24 hours to claim their prize!

Thank you all for following me! You guys have been amazing  :)

Title: Acute Angles

Author: TamerLorika

Ships: Dex/Chowder/Nursey, Zimbits

Summary: William Poindexter is happier than he has been in a long time, and though he knows why, he hasn’t spent a lot of time analyzing the specifics. All he knows is that Nurse and Chowder are the best thing that’s happened to him.The problem is that Nurse and Chowder are so good, he’s not sure if there is room for him, because he’s sure he’s going to fuck it all up. When things go wrong, Derek and Chris are left to show Will exactly how well he fits in with them, even if they never meant it to happen like this.

Tags: Polyamory, Homophobic Language, homophobic violence, functional polyamory triangle, queer stories by queer authors, various reactions to panic, Outing, check please big bang 2016

This story is friggen fantastic. I’m wasn’t even a polyfrogs shipper before, but this story made me want to draw them forever. It is full of angst and fluff and everything I could ask for in a fic. I recommend it to everyone!

@drarryking messaged me about reading a fic together and gave me an idea!!!
I know there have been Drarry book clubs before, but the conversations have happened somewhere else, and it wasn’t on-going.
How about all the tumblr Drarry squad comes together and reads a fic, maybe a chapter a day/every two days, and then we post about it straight to our blogs? Live blog as you’re reading, summaries, whatever you’d like… that way everyone is theorizing and discussing the same story all at the same time, in an ongoing way so that any one can jump in and read with us whenever they’d like? Go ahead and give this is a heart if you’d be interested in participating!