oh my father; who came before me, and his father, who died early, and his father, who liked whiskey, and his father, who ran drugs through countries, and his father, who ate too much and shouted plenty, and his father - was this the one that started the cycle? who first raised fist like man raises torch with fire? who first called down thunder onto cowering heads, who brought storms into houses? was it his father before him? where does the blame rest? on whose shoulders do i shrug it? do i pass it off and make my father a better man? cut out the pieces of him that make him a catastrophe? without rage do his hands become carpenter hard but soft and loving, do i no longer flinch when he moves them towards me. without anger do his words become lighter, balloon up and trail on our ceiling and float around without us fearing they will catch on fire. will i see the father of better mornings, when he is at his best, when he is smiling over pancakes and being the man my mother fell in love with. will i no longer guess which father i get today, which switch is flicked, which creature comes out of him. and oh my father, and his father, and so on to the first who raised sons to be a rifle - when i meet him, will he finally be the one to tell me i am loved? that i’m a good enough daughter? when i meet him - god, what if i meet him and the only thing i know how to do is beat him? what if i start the cycle myself, the way that it threatens to keep breathing in me when i raise children. what if. what if.

i see his hands, and carpenter scars and a laugh that shakes a building.

happy father’s day, i write him. oh my father. there will be no more raised hands after me. it doesn’t matter who started it, he’d say to me, i’m ending it. and i’m ending it. after all of this i forgive you, or i’m learning to, or at least i’m learning how not to let it ruin me.

oh my father. i am sorry. and i am free.

carried on the breeze [you’ll never find me]

inspired by this post from @stranger-who-writes-fiction

kara has flown myriad out into space,

and alex has gone after her in that damn pod. sure, getting the thing to space wasn’t a problem - reentery however was where things were going more than a little screwy. in no seconds flat  alex finds herself in a falling deathtrap with her unconscious sister draped mostly uncomfortably across her.

this pod was not meant for two.

nor, apparently, is it meant for rouge humans hijacking and then flying it, poorly but still functionally, into space to save their superhero little sisters. yet, alex had done it anyway.

and now, well, with the planet rapidly rising up to meet them, alex realizes the steering is gone. realizes that the best she can hope for is sending out some sort of signal and hoping that wherever they landed…the deo finds them first.

too bad it was going to be a water landing. which, god, that wasn’t what alex wants. any type of crash landing would probably kill her on impact, but at least crashing into some sort of land might ensure kara’s survival. kara who is still unconscious.

alex knows she has seconds left to come up with a plan. she’s feeling a little ill, the pod spinning around and with one arm holding kara to her chest, alex is left to crane her neck over her little sisters shoulder just to look at the console.

her eye catches a red button.

under the console, hidden from the normal line of sight - alex has to wonder if red buttons hold the same meaning on every plant. alex has to wonder why she never asked.

[to be fair, it’s an obscure question, but god, alex wishes she’d had  the foresight to see this coming]

what she doesn’t see coming are the clouds, the fog that seems to be way too high in the atmosphere, plunging the pod and the danvers sisters into a grey half light.

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kiss me with rain on your eyelashes

this fic was inspired by this lovely drawing by @mundanelion ♥ thank you so much for this beautiful piece and for letting me use it as my muse!

this is a mix of show!canon and book!canon when it comes to magnus’ past

tw: non-graphic description of drowning, past trauma

(thank you to my wonderful beta @magnusragnor who, as always, did an amazing job and put up with my anxious self. i love you)

He should have known from the moment he woke up to the sound of Alec moving around the dark room, stubbing his toe against the dresser and muttering curses under his breath, that this wasn’t going to be the best day. The fact that it was still dark and Alec wasn’t laying in bed, under the warm sheets and and wrapped around Magnus should have been a clue.

“Alexander?” he murmured sleepily.

Through half lidded eyes he saw Alec freeze, his silhouette framed by the city lights filtering through the gap in the curtains they forgot to close the night before, a thin ray of ghostly white breaking through the shadows.

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Patater Week - Day 4

Feb. 9 - Alternate Universe – Soulmate AU, 2.4K (everyone has their soulmate’s first thought about them on their skin – both still in NHL - coda of sorts to Dot Your Ts and Cross Your Is

“You’re in a good mood today,” Jack comments, as slides in next to Tater in the nook.

“Mhm,” Tater hums and chews his sandwich. “I find soulmate,” he says, like he’s commenting on the weather.

Snowy and Thirdy look up from their breakfast, and Marty nearly snorts out his cereal. Guy pats him on the back a little harder than necessary.

“You found your soulmate, Tater?” Poots asks carefully. “Like, the one who said ‘You’re tall and hot, I want to die,’ that soulmate?”

Almost everyone’s seen that particular marking in the locker room, and though no one actually voiced it, a large majority of the team had covered up their jealousy with chirps. Who doesn’t want a confidence booster like that as a soulmark? Tater simply nods, and Thirdy flies up, excited.

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| Stranger | Older! Chat Noir

Adrien frowned, yet again.

“Dude,” Nino raised an eyebrow, interrupting the blonde’s deep thought. “Are you planning on consuming that pencil whole?”

Adrien paused red-handed at the question. He’d been chewing on the end of said mistreated pencil for unnaturally long and flushed red, lowering it from his lips.

Nino chuckled. “What’s got you so twisted dude?”

Adrien tilted his head and Nino followed his line of vision, pushing up his glasses.

There you were.

Not too far from them, close up against the wall and almost blending into it. Your head was down in a book as usual, fingers absentmindedly twisting the strands of your hair into a mess. All that was known about you was that you were a new foreign exchange student and that your name was Y/N. Besides that, it was like you had faded into the background without so much as a trace.

Adrien found it…intriguing.

As if feeling the stare on your person you glanced up. Your eyes met Adrien’s for a split second before you purposely glanced away, your lips tugging down.

Nino whistled slowly, amused. “Well that was intentional.”

Adrien groaned, leaning back into his chair and boring holes into the ceiling. “I know. She’s been acting that way around me since she got here, and I don’t know why. Anytime I even try and start up a conversation she bolts.”

“Technically she’s like that around everyone; some chicks just can’t be fazed man,” Nino shrugged, patting his friend’s shoulder in a consoling motion. “Let it go.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. He wished it was that simple, as he’d been telling himself the same thing for the past two weeks. But no matter how he tried to push you out of his head you had taken up permanent residence there with a mortgage and everything. No, there had to be something he could do.

In the middle of his contemplation someone passed by your desk, laughing at a pun they had shouted across the room. You visibly bit the inside of your cheek and giggled, before coughing into your hand.

Adrien’s eyes widened. “She likes jokes.”

“I guess,” Nino blinked, scratching the back of his neck. “So what? Are you gonna start cracking up like a clown to get her attention?”

Adrien shoved him in the side and Nino retaliated with a contagious grin, ruffling his hair.

No I’m not,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “And I can’t anyway, because, like you said, she is uncomfortable around everyone.”

Light came to his jeweled eyes as he turned to look outside the window with a concealed smile.


“But I do know someone who can.”

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kapower  asked:

I'm a slut for your writing so how about like a progession from 52,73,151, to 184? If not, any of the above would be adorbs in your writing bae😙💕

Thunderstorm Revelations

Pairing; Nalu

Word Count; 2417

A/N; BAE I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG. But thanks for the prompt!! <3

52: “ Can we cuddle? ”

73: “ Oh, Are you ticklish? ”

151: “ I can’t feel my legs! ”

184: “ Can I touch you? ”

Natsu sat in the center of the sofa, one of Lucy’s books perched on his knee as he flipped through it absentmindedly. Lucy was always weird about him reading her stuff, and so he tried to wait until at least the third draft before sneaking a look at it. Lucy had been in a rut, however, and so Natsu was forced to reread her previous chapters to fend off his boredom.

Magnolia was all but shut down under the heavy thunderstorm outside, Lucy and Natsu trapped in her apartment on Strawberry Street as it had been closer than the guild. She had sent a lacrima message to the guild, letting everyone know her and Natsu were safe but wouldn’t be going to the guild that day. Happy had been especially upset, needing to be talked down from flying through the storm by Lucy. Natsu had been forced to bribe the exceed with the promise of all of Natsu’s catch next time they went fishing.

Natsu sighed loudly, leaning his head against the back of Lucy’s sofa and closing his eyes. She had been drying off for forever, and Natsu didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just dried her off himself. Lucy was so weird she had squawked and turned bright red at his offer, and now she was wasting time drying her hair when they could be playing cards.

A loud boom outside caught Natsu’s attention, the thunder harsh and sudden when he wasn’t watching the flashes of lighting outside the window. The lights flickered overhead, Natsu mentally threatening them if they went out. Lucy got all antsy in the dark with him, which bothered Natsu. She knew he would never try anything, didn’t she?

Besides, it wasn’t like Lucy was even aware of how Natsu felt.

Natsu cocked his head, tracking the soft padding of Lucy’s socked feet walking towards him.

Another crack of thunder rang in the sky, and Natsu opened his eyes with a frown when he sensed Lucy tense beside him. She looked pale, half dried hair thrown in a messy braid and large shirt trailing to her mid thigh.

“Can we cuddle?” Lucy asked, voice timid as she looked at her hands clasped in front of her. Natsu opened his mouth to ask her why she wanted to cuddle when a third boom shook the small apartment, Lucy flinching and curling into herself at the noise.

“Course, weirdo.” Natsu said instead, grinning at her easily. She smiled at him, shy and thankful in response as she slipped onto the couch beside him. Natsu shifted them around, his back now tucked into the corner of the couch and Lucy curled under his arm. She squeaked and pressed into his side firmly when the power shut off, the room falling into pitch blackness while the sky roared.

Natsu ran a comforting hand over Lucy’s back, soothing her small shakes as he tried to think. It had never occurred to Natsu that Lucy might be afraid of thunderstorms, and frankly he didn’t know what to say.

“You, er, alright, Luce?” Natsu asked, watching her face in the dark. The pale light coming from the window behind them was all Natsu needed to easily see in the room, but obviously from the unfocused expression she wore it wasn’t enough for Lucy.

“I’m fine Natsu. Just… don’t like thunder.” Lucy tried to brush off, but another loud crack of thunder sent her head burrowing into Natsu’s chest in fear.

“I think it’s more than a little dislike there, Luce.” Natsu commented dryly, tightening his arm around her and pulling her closer as he spoke.

“Oh shut up.” Lucy exhaled, hand relaxing as she bickered with Natsu. He grinned to himself, proud his plan had worked. He tensed as he sensed the change in the atmosphere, squeezing Lucy tight as a flash of lightning lit up the room, quickly followed by the booming thunder. Natsu looked over her face, tracing the tired pinching and tenseness she held on her face, thinking she was concealed by the dark.

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no offense but gilmore girls did me wrong by not having an early seasons episode where luke begrudgingly pretended to be lorelai’s boyfriend to preserve her dignity after her date with rune

like, rune offers to be her pity date at another event that they’re going to with sookie and jackson (probably a very cutesy one, like a valentine’s day fundraiser for fruits and vegetables, because WHY NOT)

but in a way where he’s super, super, super insulting about it and definitely calls lorelai the jolly green giant because she made the unfortunate decision of wearing a green sweater on the day that rune and jackson bumped into her at doose’s and suggested this whole hideous mess.

and lorelai, who happened to bump into luke when she came into the store, is like, “actually, i don’t think my BOYFRIEND, LUKE DANES, would be too happy about that”

and luke distantly hears his name from across the store and looks over from where he stands, innocent and untouched by this madness, in the produce aisle.

… only to find that lorelai is barreling over to him mouthing, “YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND! YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND!” over and over

and luke on some level of course suddenly wonders if he’s dreaming, because it’s possible he had a dream sort of like this once. he doesn’t like to think about it. dreams are just unreliable brain garbage that don’t mean much of anything.

and then lorelai drags luke and the head of broccoli he’s clutching back over to jackson and rune, luke looking to the ceiling like he is begging god to strike him down at this very moment

and she announces, “yep, here’s my boyfriend! luke!”

“that guy? that guy’s your boyfriend?” rune says.

“yep!” lorelai chirps.

“really? him?” rune snorts.

“i said he was my boyfriend. yes, he is my boyfriend. what do you think i am, a compulsive liar?”

“it’s probably better for you not to say ‘what do you think i am?’ to rune,” jackson mumbles apologetically.

rune, meanwhile, looks baffled. “i dunno, i just don’t see why a handsome guy like him would …” rune is cut off by jackson violently elbowing him in the side.

“oh, i’m his girlfriend, all right,” lorelai fumbles. “and he … thinks i’m just the greatest. don’t you, h-honey…pie?” she slides her arm through his with all the desperate awkwardness in the world.

“the greatest,” luke grunts.

“the greatest? that? he needs to get some standards,” rune mutters perfectly audibly to jackson.

“hey!” luke thunders, waving the head of broccoli threateningly at rune. “you wanna say that again louder, pal?”

rune grimaces, holding his hands up in surrender to the broccoli. “okay, okay! she’s your girlfriend. for some reason.”

“she sure is,” luke declares, putting an arm around lorelai’s waist and pulling her closer to him.

and lorelai smiles a big smile of giddy shocked amusement, awed-slash-delighted that luke is IN THIS.

… and basically luke and lorelai go on a double date to some sappy function with sookie and jackson and RUNE, and it is the greatest and most terrible thing to ever happen, and lorelai also forever teases luke for being an object of beauty in rune’s eyes. and sookie probably repeatedly tries to get luke and lorelai to kiss, like a weird overly invested supporting character in a romcom movie.

LIKE, i am glad that we got little glimpses of luke and lorelai fake coupling over the years, but WE NEEDED A FULL STORYLINE OF THAT GOODNESS and we all know it.

anonymous asked:

“I still remember the way you taste.” supercorp or supercat. your writing is amazing.

“I know you’re there.”

Kara startled at the soft declaration, barely more than whisper in the dark. It echoed in Kara’s head like thunder, vibrated in her bones. She took a deep breath and floated from the shadows, out into the faint glow of the Cat’s bedroom lamp. It lit the balcony like a candle, a weak halo of illumination, and in its glow sat the woman who had occupied Kara’s thoughts for longer than she cared to admit.

Carefully, she touched down on the balcony and looked Cat over. She traced her silhouette with her gaze as she had down countless times over the last four months. She could still sometimes feel the ghosts of those angles on her fingertips. A haunting kind of memory that made her heart race.

Cat didn’t look at her. She kept her face forward, knees curled to her chest, glass of scotch in her hand. Kara felt the same way she always did when looking at Cat now–wide open, hollowed out, alive in the most painful way.

“How…” Kara licked her lips, cleared her throat. “How did you know?”

A heavy sigh slithered across Cat’s lips, something aged and tired. So terribly tired. “Every night,” Cat said. “You come here every night, hover in the shadows, and watch me.”

It was true. Every night over the last four months, Kara had come. Drawn to Cat like a moth to flame. She found her way there every night without fail, and she would watch. Watch Cat stretch and sigh, sip at a drink, stare out into the city. Watch her rub her feet and neck. Watch her hum along to some tune Kara couldn’t place. Watch her bark orders over her phone to some assistant Kara couldn’t name and neither could Cat. Watch her cry.

It was enough to hurt, enough to heal; enough to keep Kara going. It was something she could hold onto.

But this? Realizing that Cat knew, that she had always known…it shook Kara. It rattled her. She felt breathless with it.

“But how, Cat?” Her voice cracked around Cat’s name. It had been so terribly long since she last gave it voice. She took a step forward, a little further into the light. “How could you possibly know that?”

Cat didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply let the words hang. She was silent so long that Kara assumed she wouldn’t answer at all. She shifted on her feet, unsteady and unsure, and wondered if she should kick off again, recede back into the shadows, reclaim her position as a firm part of Cat’s past. But then…

“The way you smell,” Cat whispered. She let out another heavy sigh and took a long sip of her scotch, still staring out into the night. At the city, the lights, the sky. Anything but Kara. “I can smell you in the wind sometimes, your perfume.” She leaned forward, set her scotch on the small table in front of her chair, and then settled back again. She ran a tired hand through her hair and leaned her head back, closed her eyes. “I can feel your eyes on me.”

“I–” Kara’s voice cracked again. Her throat felt tight and constricted. Her eyes stung.

“You can’t spend that much time with someone and not learn how it feels when they look at you,” Cat said. “I know how it feels to be looked at by you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll never forget.”

The words hit Kara like a shot to the gut. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes watered. Her stomach knotted. Her skin wouldn’t stop crawling. There were so many parts of her that still didn’t understand how they had gotten like this, why Cat had pushed her away. Why they couldn’t try again, and again, and again. Why they couldn’t just be. “I…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said, ducking her head. “I never…I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t think you would ever know.”

“I know everything about you, Kara Danvers,” Cat said, eyes still closed and words still light and breathy on her tongue. She rocked her head from side to side, a gentle shake, and when she spoke, it was as if she was speaking only to herself. Saying all the things she could say in the silence and in the stillness, in solitude. The things she would never say to Kara in the light of day, in the bright, loud wonder and rush of moments not stolen or reserved. “You never realized, but I made a point of it. I memorized you. Your preferences. Your values. Your fears.”


Cat lazily tapped her temple. “I remember every detail.” She released a hard huff of air, as if she wished she could forget. The scent of alcohol on her breath curled in Kara’s nose, and Kara wanted to scream. It all felt too close, too intimate, too heavy and hard and hurting. Cat sounded like she had grown a century inside her soul since the last time they spoke, and Kara wanted to wrap her up in her arms and press away the sorrow, wanted to be there as much as she wanted to fly away.

“I know all your little ticks and quirks,” Cat whispered. “All your sounds. All your angles.” Kara hung on every word, clung to the ache in Cat’s voice, the want. The regret. She stepped forward, a silent movement. Then another. “I still remember your routines and rituals. I know the way you smell right after a shower and how much warmer your skin is than mine or anyone’s.” She licked her lips in the lamplight, and Kara drew closer. She dropped to her knees in front of Cat’s chair and took in the full vision of her, haloed in light and curled in on herself. And when Cat opened her eyes a moment later, glistening, and looked down at her, Kara felt her entire world bloom in a way it hadn’t since before she had walked out of Cat’s house and out of Cat’s life.

Cat reached forward, trailed one finger down Kara’s cheek, along the line of her jaw. She smoothed out a wrinkle in the ripple of Kara’s cape, draped over her shoulder. “I still remember the way you taste.”

Kara grabbed Cat’s hand before Cat could retract it. She held it tightly in hers, rubbed her thumb over the backs of Cat’s slender fingers, and rested her other hand on Cat’s naked foot, still curled up in her chair. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Kara asked, her voice little more than a wet, trembling sigh. “Why did you send me away?”

Cat looked at her for a long time, long and lingering. She used her free hand to wipe away a tear before it could fall. “That’s what I do,” she said, the words escaping in a long sigh. “I push away everything and everyone I love.” She squeezed Kara’s hand. “Everyone who loves me.”

“You don’t have to,” Kara said. She slid her hand up from Cat’s foot, up her skinny shin, over her knee. She rubbed her hand slowly back and forth along the outside of Cat’s thigh. “You don’t have to push me away.” She latched gently onto Cat’s ankles then and pulled her legs down, out of the chair. She then shifted into the space between them and rested both hands on Cat’s thighs. “I want to be here.”

Leaning forward, Kara rested her forehead against Cat’s chest. She closed her eyes when Cat’s hand came to rest on the back of her head, fingers scratching gently at her scalp. The familiar scent of her overwhelmed Kara. Her heart squeezed and hammered, and she could hear Cat’s doing the same. The sensation, the sound, made her dizzy. “Tell me to stay, Cat,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against the soft material of Cat’s sweater. “Tell me to stay and I’ll stay.”

Cat cradled Kara’s head, fingers making lazy lines through Kara’s hair. She took several slow, deep breaths. Took her time. Her voice shook when she finally spoke again. “Stay.”

Writing Prompt #50

Pairing: Fred x Hermione

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop to feel the rain?”


Fred Weasley, rougish grin settled effortlessly upon his face, stood holding an over large umbrella over himself and the bushy-haired friend of his youngest brother protecting them from the downpour that had erupted from the sky a few moments earlier. He was pleased with himself for having the forsight to bring the raggedy thing, especially since the young with at his side had neglected to check the weather for the day, leaving her bright pink from embarrassment.

Fred found he rather liked that color on her.

The girl in question softly cleared her throat, wringing her fingers together and peeking out from behind her curls. “How…Far is it back to the Burrow, again?” She asked, a flash of lightning causing a slight tremble to crawl across her skin.

Fred’s grin widened as he chuckled. “Just a few minutes and we’ll see it out past those trees, there. You almost made it back before you got lost.”

This resulted in a frustrated sigh as Hermione reached up a hand to bury her fingers in her hair, pushing the brown locks back away from her face with a huff. “I’m sorry you had to come look for me. Ronald just makes me so angry, sometimes! I mean, does he have to be so obtuse!?”

This resulted in a loud bark of laughter from the tall red-head. “Ah, Ronniekins. Poor, sweet, not-all-that-bright brother o’ mine!” He lowered his eyes again just in time for a roll of thunder to send another shudder across Hermione’s shoulders. He tilted his head to one side, his smile fading slightly into a ponderous expression. “Are you cold, Granger?”

The witch let out a soft laugh herself before shaking her head. “No, the chill is nice. Besides, I came out to cool my head.” She stopped moving, then, peeking out from under the umbrella as Fred stopped as well, turning to look back at the girl he had been charged to find and bring back home safely.

“Granger?” he started to ask before she rather suddenly darted out from under the umbrella with the sound of thunder rumbling over head. He jerked as though he meant to follow her, to try to get her back under their shield from the rain, but he paused, staring at her in surprise.

Hermione hand thrown her hands out to either side and tilted her head back so she could face the sky as she slowly spun in place. She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, a smile crossing her features as raindrops left trails across her skin. She was, very quickly, becoming soaked in rainwater.

“Granger, what are you doing?” Fred asked, laughter surrounding the words as he stood with his free hand in his pocket, watching the witch with amusement.

Hermione let out her own laugh, bending forward a bit before continuing her slow rotation. “I’m feeling the rain!”

Fred tilted his head to one side, considering her again, eyes sparkling. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain ?!” he asked.

“Yes!” the younger teen replied, pausing her spin to face Fred with a smile.

“I thought you hated the rain. You always run when it rains.” Fred said, taking a few, slow steps toward her.

Hermione shook her head, her curls drenched and beginning to dangle along the side of her face. Fred’s eyes focused onto one lock of hair that had plastered itself along her cheek. “That’s only when I have books. The rain could ruin them.”

“Ah!” Fred breathed as he reached Hermione. “Of course, silly me. Your ever present books! Must protect them.” He reached up to tug the brown strands of hair away from his companion’s cheek before tucking his hand back into his pocket.

Hermione blinked at the unexpected contact, her eyes flitting around as her brain processed it before returning to his face. She cleared her throat once again as Fred’s grin widened, becoming more mischievous at her reaction. The girl took a few steps back from him, returning to the rain. “What’s the matter, Fred? Scared of the rain? Water won’t actually melt witches, you know.”

Fred scoffed a bit at that, his grin giving way to some confusion. “Whoever said water would melt witches?”

Hermione shrugged, a smirk on her face. “Read it in a book.”

Fred shook his head. “Well, that’s a ridiculous book, if you ask me. And besides…” He continued. “I have a perfectly valid and logical fear of returning to the Burrow soaking wet just to drip water all over Mum’s clean floors.”

Another bolt of lightning and the roar of thunder shook the air around them again, much closer now. Fred turned his attention back to Hermione, knowing that tremble would be there again. And it was, shaking her whole body. She tilted her head back and took a deep breath as the thunder rolled across the clouds and she released the same breath only after it stopped. “I love thunderstorms. Come feel the rain with me, Fred.” She peeked at him from one half-closed eye as a smirk slid across her lips. “I promise to dry you off before Mrs. Weasley finds you dripping puddles in her floor.”

Fred shot her a grin back and shrugged, snapping the umbrella shut and tossing it aside. “Ah, why the hell not?” And his hands came out to his sides to, as he watched Hermione, his fingers brushing lightly against her own as he raised them to the sky, welcoming the rain. The bright flush spread across Hermione’s cheeks again, but she didn’t pull away. Fred decided he rather liked the rain, too.

anonymous asked:

11 and 15 for prinxiety

11: Soulmate AU
15:  “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.”

Strings of Fate

Fandom: Sanders Sides
Pairing: Prinxiety
Warnings: Negative self-talk

Summary: Roman finds his soulmate, but is he fated in love?
A/N:  They’re freshman and it’s a different timeline than my previous college aus.  (Basically unless stated otherwise, none of the college aus are connected.)

Tagged: @existental-crises @jordisama @here-to-vent @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

Red strings were the only thing on Roman’s mind lately.  He could feel the string connecting him to some unknown person growing shorter every day.  They were fated to meet soon, it was only a matter of time.  He’d seen it happen all around him since starting college; people were embracing left and right it seemed, all happy to have finally found their soulmate.  Roman had always been a sucker for these strings of fate and had even researched them a little for a role he’d played in high school.  However, one thing had always bothered him in the back of his mind.  What if his soulmate didn’t love him?  He knew it was kind of silly to think, but he was worried nonetheless.  

Soulmates were bound by the Strings of Fate and Fate didn’t always work in people’s favor.  He’d heard stories of people whose soulmates were already in committed relationships with other people who didn’t share their strings or that when two soulmates finally met, their match was star-crossed or only tied to a specific moment.  Roman wasn’t sure of how true any of these stories actually were, if at all, but that didn’t stop the nagging sensation in the back of his mind from growing more persistent with every passing day.

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Chaos in the Pantheon

((A/N: Here it is! Marvel/Avengers Greek Pantheon AU! I so hope you guys like it. It’s starting slow, so I’m sorry, but I do promise if you can stick with it, it gets better. I’m also pretty sleep deprived, so if it’s bad I’m sorry. 

Summary: There is war in the Pantheon. The people of Greece and the worlds beyond are suffering in chaos. The one who is believed may change this, is you. It is up to you to climb Mt. Olympus and to speak with the gods, demand in whatever way you can that the destruction below stop. 

But things are never that simple, and soon you find that there is more going on than meets the idea. With no warning you are thrust into a world of gods, monsters, and so much more. You must go head to head with those you have worshiped and decide how you may save your people. And above all… why you?”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Ares) x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: None))

Thunder boomed above your head as clouds darkened, the simple black sandals on your feet carrying you as fast as could be managed as you ran home. This would be the third storm this month, and the month itself was only half-over. For the time of year it was uncommon to have such chaos thrust into your world. Which would be fine, except your city was still reeling from the earthquake that toppled Ares’ temple. Those who weren’t picking up their homes or burying loved ones had taken to the temples, desperately making offerings and repairing statues.

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◠ the tulip dress ◡

Originally posted by visual-17

a/n: thank u bun!! this is such an ancient request asxnajis imma try to get better at writing them pls pray for me. also when will svt do an angsty concept its so hard finding gifs tht fit;;

» word count: 1,264

» includes: angst + minor drinking + minor fluff

The sole thing Soonyoung could remember from that day was screaming. Well, it was the most apparent thing he could remember, the thing most precedent in his mind as he sat slouched over his drink at the bar. There were little things he could remember too, like how tight his fists were clenched when you slapped the vase of flowers off the dinner table, leaving faded yellow tulips to solemnly decorate the floorboards.

Soonyoung still felt his lips tingle with the curses he spat. The words were ringed with such venom and potent misery that clear droplets began spilling from your eyes, rolling to your chin so they could glisten for just one more second before falling. You were screaming at each other from opposite sides of the dinner table, faces leaning in closer and closer until you both hissed the fatal bullet, let’s break up.

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killerfig  asked:

Whenever I write dialogue I find that it normally goes something like this. "Xander, I can't even believe you," he said, grinning. "Well, I have my ways," she said, smirking. Do you have any suggestions for dialogue writing and then showing facial emotions? [if that makes since eek]

Dialogue with facial expression, or any sort of movement, can be tricky to capture. One of the reasons I think it’s difficult is because we, as authors, need to capture near simultaneous actions. With that said, it isn’t impossible. It takes a bit of practice, and the willingness to think things through. If you do, you’ll end up with more realistic dialogue and not just a list of tags with -ing verbs. Here are my tips.

  • Think things through. No really. What is your character feeling? What are their motives? Are they interacting with anyone else? Think about the order of their actions, too. Do they move, speak, and then have a secondary action?
  • Moar detail. Capture more detail in their facial expression. Do they wrinkle their nose? Squint? Stare in wide-eyed wonder? For your example, What kind of grin? Smug? Lecherous? Broad? Provide this information to your reader.

“Xander, I can’t even believe you,” he said as a broad grin spread across his face.

  • Moar detail, (part deux) Use more descriptive words to capture the movement or facial expression. A smile can play or dance across a face if someone is happy or flirting. Or if they’re angry or sad, their face can contort, warp, or twist. Getting this level of detail adds another layer of depth. For example:

A smirk danced across Xander’s face as she glanced up at him. “Well, I have my ways.”

  • Body language. People speak with their entire body. So you need to capture not only the words, but what their body is doing, too. The phrase, “That sounds fine,” said with arms crossed and brows furrowed is going to convey a very different message than the same phrase accompanied by an approving nod. 
  • Split the movement and the dialogue into their own sentences, like I did in that above example. Not only will you give yourself a bit of breathing room to capture the expression fully, but you’ll vary your sentence structure– which is a good thing. Monotony sucks. 
  • Vary your ‘saying’ tags. Did your character mumble, groan, yell, stutter, gasp, offer, or rage? Instead of hunting down a word frequency calculator, CTRL-F (or CMD-F if you’re on a Mac) and type in those verbal tags, and your machine will find every instance of that word being used. Be wary of using any one word too many times. Switch things up.
  • Secondary effects. Think about accompanying effects, too. If someone is really yelling, is spit flying from their mouth? Are their cheeks red from a stream of tears? Again, think things through a couple steps.
  • Use markup sparingly. Markup referring to bold, italics, and underlining in dialogue. While some markup does have a place- capturing an inflection or tone change in a character’s voice without a tag, for example- it’s a frequent mistake for new writers to rely on markup instead of using their words. Don’t take the easy way out. 
  • No interruptions. Throw most of this out the window for quick exchanges or arguments between two characters. You don’t want to tags slow things down…
  • Unless another character joins in. Then you’ll want to reintroduce tags to make things clear…
  • Or it goes on for awhile. All conversations, even hours long arguments, have an ebb and flow to them. If you see a long bit of dialogue, it’s time to break it up and get some info about how and why they’re saying things. 

Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. To show you these principles in action, here’s a (draft) snippet from one of my latest chapters in my WIP, Sirens. I’ll put my thoughts in square brackets –> [   ]. 

“Don’t start,” the Catwoman warned. After the past twenty four hours, she was in no mood to rehash another unpleasant memory. [Instead of just ‘said’, I picked ‘warned’ to better capture her tone. I also provided a snippet of why that tone is relevant.]

“Selina took her hood off after a job,” Harley tattled and shoved a tart in her mouth. [Said would’ve worked, but I knew I could do better. I was debating between ‘interrupted’ and ‘tattled’, but went with ‘tattled’ because it captures her intent. Also, Harley shoving food in her mouth as she’s tattling serves two purposes. One, it reinforces that she’s a chow-hound, but that she doesn’t think twice about throwing Selina under the bus. Tattling is a casual action for her.]

“You take that masterpiece off your head?!” Stytch thundered. [Stytch has a bombastic voice, so thundered works. I also use ‘thundered’ for her character foil, so that’s one way I tie them together.]

“Gordon trapped me in a ninety degree air duct for an hour!” [no tag needed. It’s clear Selina is responding to Stytch]

I didn’t tell you to wrap yourself in indigo leather.” [again, no tag, because the exchange is continuing. I chose to use the italics to show Stytch’s inflection without adding a tag because I didn’t want to break the flow. Also, that’s the only italics in the whole 4,000+ word chapter]

“She’s not wrong,” Harley sputtered as bits of crust sprinkled on the table. [Harley butted in so you need a tag here to make it clear. Also, I want to reference she food in her mouth, so sputter instead of said makes sense here. I reinforced it by adding secondary action with the crumbs flying.]

Selina glowered and sank back into the chair. Arguing with Stytch and Harley at the same time was as productive as spitting in the wind. [No need for dialogue because Selina’s body language makes it clear she’s peeved, but doesn’t want to continue the argument.]

“Anyway,“ Stytch pivoted the conversation and swept the crumbs to the floor. "He said (scene continues)…” [There’s a lot going on here. First, I thought about how Stytch would move as she swept the crumbs off the table. She’d have to pivot at the waist to get the right sweeping movement. Since she’s changing the subject, she’s also pivoting the conversation so that verb does double duty. Second, it was time to get some different sentence structure in there, and I wanted Stytch to have a slight pause, so I put the tag where it is to capture it.]

One last tip. You’ll need a strong grasp of your character’s motives, personalities, and what is going on in a scene to pull off dialogue like this. If you have weak characters or plot, the dialogue will suffer. 

Hope this helps,


A Long Rain

Created for Voltron Whump Week

Prompt: Day 4- Torture

Summary: Lance loved the rain and he really didn’t understand why Keith hated it so much.

Notes: I didn’t want to write a general torture fic, like someone gets captured and tortured for information. I can’t do that to them. So I ended up with this. Which is still pretty upsetting. General inspiration and most of the title lovingly stolen from Ray Bradbury’s The Long Rain.

Warnings for injuries, burns, illness, vomiting, and past child abuse.

A Long Rain

Shiro kept having to remind Lance that this wasn’t a game. This was dangerous. Well Lance already knew that. Of course he knew that.

When they had first come to this planet, Lance had stared outside of the large glass dome with amazement as water poured from the sky and soaked the large, grey, bare trees. Everyone else was impressed with the city that lived in what looked like a large upside down fishbowl. The dome protected the inhabitants from the constant rain that beat down on this planet. But Lance just kept staring out at the rain with longing. It was slightly acidic and dangerous rain, but rain all the same.

So when the locals requested their help with a search and rescue mission outside the dome, Lance had agreed to it without hesitation. The others agreed as well, though Pidge was staying behind in an attempt to coordinate the search efforts. Some of the city’s best scientists had been on an expedition to research some nearby caves and they hadn’t made it back yet. They were believed to be stranded, as flooding was common in the area.

“The storm makes communication unreliable, even our coms will be going in and out.” Pidge typed away at the computer they had provided her with. She was happy where she was, having no desire to scavenge through a forest that held puddles that often went up past her knees.

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thisissirius  asked:

5: Did you eat my pop tarts? + 6: Is that my shirt?

a good old friends to lovers au, because i love ya!

Robert felt completely blissed out, as he woke up, stretching languidly across his bed. If he was being completely honest, it had been a while since he’d woken up with that pleasant soreness that was always the result of a fairly spectacular night of sex.

It’s not as though he’d lost his edge, whatever Aaron might say, cheeky grin fixed in place. No, it was more because he’d been so busy lately, with the business, the house renovation, helping Aaron with Liv, helping Victoria out with her food truck - he’d hardly had a spare second to himself, let alone a few hours to head out and take on Hotten’s nightlife, and bag himself a one night stand.

Still, it’s not as though last night didn’t make up for it.

Robert couldn’t help the self satisfied grin on his face as he sat up, duvet falling away to his waist. Everything about his room still felt new, if he was honest - he’d bought a wreck of a cottage on the outskirts of the village, a year or so ago now, a pet project for himself that had turned into nothing short of a money pit.

It was done now though, and it was home. Robert felt like he hadn’t had one of those in a long time, life always connected to someone else, whether it was exes, or Chrissie.

Thirty, and this was the first house he’d bought with his own money. Robert Sugden, proud owner of Primrose Cottage. The name wasn’t exactly his choice, but turns out when you bought an old historical property, there was a few terms and conditions and things that couldn’t be changed.

Thankfully, that didn’t extend to the inside, Robert thought to himself, eyes adjusting to the bright morning as he looked around his room, sleek built in wardrobes and cherry wood furniture (all of which Aaron have given him shit for buying, claiming there was no need to spend that much money on a bedside locker) all making for a room right out of a house catalogue.

He worked hard, in his own defence - Robert deserved a little luxury in his own home.

Stretching out a little more, Robert tossed the covers off, walking unashamedly naked across his bedroom to grab a pair of boxers, hitching the material up over his narrow hips, not bothering with a t-shirt.

It was summer, after all.

He could hear the kettle going before he was even halfway down the stairs, the noise of the kitchen coming to life music to his ears. The worst part about living alone, was getting up in the mornings to a quiet house.

Maybe he should get a cat.

Reaching the end of the stairs, Robert padded across the open plan living room, heart thundering in his head as he watched Aaron moved around the kitchen with remarkable familiarity, making two mugs of tea, a half eaten bowl of cornflakes on the side.

“I don’t like waking up to an empty bed,” Robert drawled, crossing the last of the space between them in a few short steps, pressing his chest to Aaron’s back, enjoying the way the other man jumped a little at the contact.

“I didn’t know if it would be weird,” Aaron admitted, leaning back into Robert’s embrace as he relaxed slightly, carton of milk in hand.

It was strange, how natural it all felt. He and Aaron had been friends since Robert had moved back to the village at twenty five, fresh off the back of a disastrous relationship with Chrissie, not a penny to his name.

Aaron had been his best friend though it all, through Robert’s months working between the pub and the B&B, through him going back to night school and getting his A-Levels, to Robert setting up his own business, Robert coming out. Aaron had been his best friend through it all, the only person Robert could ever talk to about the mess that was unfolding in his head.

He’d never imagined a life without Aaron, but it would be a lie to say he hadn’t imagined this, once or twice, laid awake at night and wondered what it would feel like to love Aaron, to be with him like this, as though it was the most normal and natural thing in the world.

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Newcomers Pt 20

Oolana rode in the back of the merchant’s caravan, she had been given passage to Geeda by him who’s name she had learned was Peran. He was a sick sadistic man and one she had to pay for the passage with her own body, he had collected many times. When she had asked for food but he had simply said the payment was for the travel not the food so once again she had to barter herself. This went on for over a week as the caravan was slow going, they were stopped many times by Benemar patrols who would question them thoroughly. All she could think about was Creten, he was alive and in Geeda and she needed to get to him. He was still so young, still her baby and she had cried so much when she left him. She stirred as Peran got out of the bed and began dressing himself, the caravan had stopped at a Benemar outpost to pick up a few more goods. Ahead of them now was Human territory. As per the Commerce Law, merchants had free rein to travel as they wished during war time even though the Benemar warriors knew he was headed for Geeda he had promised to bring back information for them. Weather or not he would do so remained to be seen.

Peran threw a wet cloth so she may clean herself with before exiting the small carriage that she was being transported in without a word. Angrily she washed herself cursing this man who had taken advantage of her, what was she a slave? Benemar would not dare take one of their own kind as a slave, such a crime was punishable by the most horrible death. But was she not though? She was dependant on this man for everything and he could simply dump her in the middle of the wasteland on a whim. So she had submitted herself to him, but her son needed her.

It was two days later when suddenly in the middle of the day the merchant caravan came to a halt, Oolana was thrown off her makeshift bed and the booming sound of aircraft thundered over head. Human craft flew over them but ignored them, but that was not all that was seen.

The door to her carriage was opened Peran stood there. “Human patrol is coming, stay hidden and stay quiet!”

She nodded saying nothing and hid under her blanket, the sound of alien vehicles coming ever closer.

“You are entering Human territory, state your business” shouted a voice, she knew it was a human, no Benemar could make a sound so alien.

“I am Peran on my way to Geeda, we are merchants and by law can travel freely during such times”

“By your laws yes and neither we shall stop you, but you must understand we must inspect your cargo for contraband”

Suddenly there was a commotion, one of the Humans had exited their vehicle and Oolana who was peeking through a small hole could not quite see.

“You are no Human!” Peran shouted.

“Yes we are, we have just gone through a metamorphosis, fear not”

The Humans were still out of view but she could hear them opening the carriages and looking through their contents.

“This is highly unnecessary I assure you, I have been to Geeda many times during the occupation”

“Then you should know that all are inspected”

A body went past her peeking hole and she retreated under the blanket hearing the door open.

“Now see here alien, this is my personal carriage and I will not let you go through my things!”

“I promise I will not tell of what I see to anyone”

There was a scuffle as Peran grabbed the Human but the Human grabbed his wrist and lifted him up off the ground with shocking ease.

“Look…Peran was it?”


“I have orders that all carriages need to be searched for weapons or other such items, the fact you are adamant that I stay out of this carriage raises a few eyebrows…if I had any to raise but that’s not the point”

Peran was dropped and the door was once again thrown open and the Human climbed inside. Oolana froze, listening to him move boxes and open crates praying that the blanket she hid under would go unnoticed.

But it didn’t, the Human pulled it away revealing her laying there naked and exposed. The Human could not hide his shock at finding her and quickly tried to covered her body with the blanket leaving her face uncovered. She was shocked by what she saw, she knew what Humans looked like as she had seen videos and pictures of them but this standing over her was not that creature, it couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry” he said “Who are you?” he asked concerned.

Oolana did not answer, she couldn’t find her voice and just stared at the creature kneeling down next to her. Then the Human took the covers and pulled them down, he was looking at her shoulder, it was bruised and she could see this concerned him. He found others on her lower body and from the look on her face it was obvious something was amiss.

“Who is she?” he asked Peran.

“She is my wife” he stated without pause.

The Human looked back at her then at him again. “That is clearly not the case, I shall ask you again who is she?”

“I don’t need to answer that” Peran said taking a step back but bumping into a Human who had put himself behind him, others were gathering around him.

The Human got out and walked straight up to Peran towering over him.

“I will ask you one more time, is that clear? Who is she?”

Peran remained silent for a long time before speaking “She is someone who has paid for travel to Geeda”

“How did she pay you?”

Peran said nothing and with no visual prompting that Oolana could see he was grabbed and dragged kicking and screaming to the vehicle they had arrived in. The Human who had found her came back and held out his hand smiling.

“It’s okay, you are safe now” he said.

She wanted to shout at him, curse him and strike him, but something about his smile made her reach out and take it and he lead her out of the carriage. She was quickly covered with a more comfortable blanket and lead to another vehicle separate from Peran who was still shouting.

“Are you heading to Geeda?” asked another Human this one female.

“Um…yes” she replied her voice just above a whisper.

“Family there?”

“A son, Creten” this time quicker and louder.

“I will call ahead and ask if he is there”

She left her sitting with the first Human she had met while he looked her over for wounds checking she was not too hurt.

“Is there anything we can get you? Something for any pain or some food?”

“Food” she said quickly without thinking and the Human smiled and went to get some when the female popped her head back into her compartment.

“There are about 20 Benemar named Creten in the city and about 8 who do not have their mothers”

“I know he is there” she said and the the she-human smiled and nodded.

“We’ll be on our way soon, try to relax and get some sleep”

The Human vehicle moved a lot faster than Peran’s caravans a journey that should have taken a week was done in a few days. During this time Oolana learned much of the Humans who made her as comfortable as they could. They told her of their own families back home and of the metamorphosis that had affected their whole race. They rigorously tested their new bodies sometimes by running alongside the convoy as it sped towards Geeda.  

What greeted her when she got there was nothing like she expected, she had visited Geeda once years ago but that was on the way to another town and they were not allowed to enter. It was a city only for those of high status like parts of the capital. But now there were huge queues of traffic waiting to get in, many were from towns untouched by the war but were coming as if to defect to the Humans.

All were welcomed as long as they did not bring weapons, Oolana and her convey were waved right through and she saw that indeed this metamorphosis had affected their whole race.

Inside the city it was a buzz of activity, one would think the war was never here as the people smiled and joked and life went on, she even saw a school had opened and only every so often there would be seen a Human guard or two on patrol. Looking up she saw a number of them jump from one building to another across the street as if testing how far they could push their new legs.

But a voice amongst all these hundreds caught her attention, a young boy stood on a box and was speaking to the crowed that had gathered, she could not hear what he was saying and she did not care. He was different, he held himself taller and spoke with confidence that commanded those who heard to listen to him.

“CRETEN!” she screamed and jumped off the vehicle to the shock of the driver who instantly stopped.

Creten didn’t hear her at first, he was too caught up in making his point of view known, the faces who listened showed many agreed with him and cheered when he made a valid argument. The Benemar ways had to change. He had been doing this for nearly a week now, speaking of new ways and debating with those who were adamant that the current state of things had served them well and will serve them still. They said the Humans were evil and should be destroyed but every point, every argument and every issue Creten countered with facts and new possibilities. Soon enough no one wanted to debate him for fear of being so utterly verbally taken apart. What others could not do with blades he could do with words.

“CRETEN!” he heard that one and stopped mid sentence and looked up.

“Mother?” he looked around.

“Creten” she waved and his eyes rested on her as if he did not believe it.

“MOTHER!” he leapt from the box and pushed his way through the crowed and into his mothers arms.

“My son! My little boy!” she cried kissing him all over his face as if to confirm it was really him. “I’ll never let you go again”