time to post this again because frick

Brutal Beauty

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: For the first time in a while…. I don’t think there are any.

Words: 1,677

A/n: Ah shit. I was supposed to post this yesterday but I fricking queued it up for next week on accident x| P.s. Look at me! I’m back at it with the horrible titles and summaries again. Aces.

Summary: Your feelings towards Steve are growing and it’s not as good as it seems.

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whyamiatmywitsend submitted to wearepjocrazy: For the 4 headcannon thingy... Can you do something about Piper and Percy’s friendship? I feel like they’d be really close friends


I told star right away that this one is mine.

Like Pipercy is my brotp. Dare I even say it surpasses Jercy 

Oh yeah. I went there

Headcanon A: *Something Realistic*

They hang out at the beach whenever both of them are at camp together. Sometimes they surf Percy likes to laugh at Piper’s skills, which she explains as ‘him cheating’ and they eat veggie burgers while watching people fall off the lava wall.

Headcanon B: *Something Hilariously Unreal*


Lemme tell you this now:

Dynamic. Dance. Duo

Put a Wii in front of them and give them a couple of JustDance games and they will slay the floor. They laugh and dance like no body’s business, and don’t even get me started on the time they preformed ‘Opps…. I did it again.’ in front of the entirety of camp hb, camp j, and the hunters.

AND they sing like fricking angels. Piper with her charmspeak, Percy with his very unusual voice that he swears up and down sounds like a dying whale but no one agrees with him, they sail above Karaoke Night with such grace even Jason couldn’t have flown as well as them.

Headcanon C: *Something Heartbreakingish*

Oh gosh. Where do I even start? All my pipercy is very happy and joyful, and the one the headcanon i have was sparked because of a certain post…

Well I guess I’ll just link the one thing I can think of as heartbreaking - you are warned though. It’s dark. And techincally not pipercy but piper went with percy to poseidon’s place for comfort so I guess it counts

[Falling to Storm]

Headcanon D: *Something That Is Better Than The Canon*

Have you seen the canon friendship?

Oh right, because there was barely one.

I need them surfing together, or getting ice cream and eating at Margaritaville, jamming to old songs in a car with a puppy that Piper ‘asked for’. I need them skateboarding/rollerblading next to each other, or racing each other up the lava wall. I need pipercy in a sandcastle building competition where Percy makes the best sandcastle but Piper charmspeaks the judge to give the prize to her.

just… pipercy bromance at it’s best


Want me to answer yours? Send me an ask saying ‘For the 4 headcanons - *insert name OR ship*’ and I’ll answer.

(or if you want Star to answer them, put ‘Hey Star, could you do the 4 headcanons for *insert name or CANON ship [she’s picky, don’t judge her]*’ And I’ll text her telling her to answer you. She also might just take one of them from me…)

PSA - everything after this will be queued. It’s easier like that, so if you submitted look every morning at 10 am EST for your post

The idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and even though I’ve never really written fanfiction, it just wouldn’t leave me alone so I wrote it.  And no one will probably read this, but I didn’t just write 2.5k words to not post it on the inernet (yes you heard that right).  So, if by some magic you do read this, I would really love to know what you think!  It’s Stiles and Lydia, about that nights where Stiles come to see Lydia because he thinks there’s something supernatural.  So I hope you like it (or read it i guess)

The Boy Who Cried Supernatural

The first time it happens, Lydia’s sure she’s dreaming. Because there’s no way- no fricking way- that Stiles Stilinski is standing over her bed, whispering her name so softly “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia” over and over again like a prayer. But Lydia blinks twice, long and hard and reaches without thinking, slowly reaches her hand out to lightly touch his cheek. It’s real and solid and there, and immediacy recoils her hand, a sharp contrast to her previous movements. Lydia’s sense of wonder is almost immediacy replaced by annoyance. 

“What are you doing her” she groans, still half-asleep. She rolls her head to the side, glancing at her alarm clock, “At 2:30 in the morning?”

“I found something,” he says, his voice anxious. The anxiety in his voices wakes her up. It’s 2:30 in the morning and he’s fully awake, and hell, that has to count for something right? 

“What?” She asks, sitting up, slightly terrified. She realizes that her pajamas are slight generous in a certain area on her chest. His gaze shifts for a moment, then back to her face. 

“Something…supernatural” he says, and then quickly corrects, “at least I think it’s supernatural. I need you and you’re all knowing banshee powers to tell me if it is or not”. 

“My banshee powers are not all knowing,” she grumbles, “Look away”. She looks back and he’s dutifully shut his eyes. She climbs out of bed and quickly slips on the nearest dress because of course Lydia Martin sleeps in her underwear. She cautiously looks back (his eyes are still closed, and he’s absentmindedly playing with his car keys) and she slips on the nearest pair of boots and grabs a jacket. 

“You can open them now,” and his eyes snap open. The car keys stop. His gives her a quick once over. 

“Let’s go,” he nods and they make their way to Stiles’ jeep. 


They’re riding in the jeep, stiles’ eyes darting back and forth, even though there’s no one in the road. The right hand is on the wheel, the left absentmindedly tap tap tapping on his left leg while his right one shakes. Lydia slightly smiles. Stiles can never sit still even for a second. She glances out the car, and catches her reflection in the rearview mirror. She pauses for a second, a realization striking her. This is the first time she’s ever been around Stiles without makeup on. 

“Stop it,” Stiles says, as though he’s reading her mind, “you look beauti-fine. You look fine.” Lydia turns away so he won’t see the blush that’s threatening to form on her face. 


The reach the “something supernatural” that Stiles was referring to, a clearing in the middle of the woods. There’s rock forming a perfect circle, and maybe it’s just because it’s 2:30, no 3:00 in the morning, but it looks creepy to Lydia too and she can see and sense Stiles’ worry. 

“How did you find this?” She whispers, touching on one of the rocks. 

“I…uh…” and now he looks embarrassed, and now he’s starting blushing and she realizes there’s only one way that he found something this isolated in the middle of the woods. 

“Do you patrol the woods?” she asks, and it sounds disbelieving but of course, she believes it, of course this idiot boy patrols the woods, looking out for the supernatural. 

“I…erhm…yes?” She laughs, and then the moment turns serious. She walks to the middle of the clearing and sits down. She closes her eyes, waiting. She doesn’t understand how this whole beacon for the supernatural, probably never will but it she sits still, clears her mind, and hopes to whatever god(s) might or might not be out there, usually something will come to her. 

So she sits and waits. And she waits. She can feel Stiles’ impatience radiation off of him in streams. 

“Well?” He asks impatiently, after silence that to his nervous mind was probably an eternity. 

“Nothing,” she says, almost relieved. 

“Nothing?” He asks in disbelief, “but the…the rocks…they…” he spins out pointing, “There has to be,” he whispers, and she senses urgency in his voice even though she doesn’t realize know why. 

“There’s not,” she says comfortingly, “I promise, Stiles. Now can you take me home? I would like to actually get some sleep tonight." 

She starts walking back to the car, and he follows her after a minute, but she notices that he keeps looking back at the forest, at the clearing. 


The second time it happens, a week later, she comes to a lot quicker. There’s no doubt, and there’s definitely no touching although there is a lot of groaning (from Lydia).  

"I think I found something,” he says, pacing the floor of her room. She glances at him skeptically, but she knows he’s not going away anytime soon, so she makes him look away, slips on acceptable clothing, and wordlessly walks to the car. 

“Let’s go,” she calls up to him. He’s still standing in her room, as if in a daze. He snaps too, and almost jumps following her to the car. 

The weird flickering street lamp turns out to be just that, a weird flickering street lamp. She tries not to notice the obvious disappointment that’s so clearly written all over his face. Why would he be disappointed? She puts that in the category of things to be dealt with later. She’s been doing that a lot these days. 


The third through tenth time he comes, she starts to get annoyed. He’s getting more desperate now, she can tell, even if she doesn’t understand why. 

It’s the flicker of the possibility of the supernatural that he overhears from his father’s walky talky one night (or many nights), or the weird behavior that their English teacher is exhibiting during class (“because you can never be too careful after what happened last time, can you Lydia?”).  Each time he’s more panicked, more frantic.  Each time he needs it to be real; she can sense that, even if she can’t sense anything supernatural anywhere he takes her.  


The fourteenth time it happens, she finally asks him.  

“Why Stiles?” she asks, after the leave another failure, a grocery store, where the people going in and out of the back room just a little too much in Stiles’ opinion.  The worst of it?  Spoiled milk. Which is nasty, Lydia thought mentally, but not supernasty (she’s been spending too much time with Stiles to think of a lame ass pun like that), “Why do you keep dragging me all over Beacon Hills?”  They get in his car, and he starts driving.  Right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, right leg shaking up and down.  

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and Lydia shoots him a scathing look, “I don’t!” he screams in her face, and he looks immediately taken aback, “I don’t,” he says quietly, and it looks like he’s given up, “It’s just…we’ve been through so much.  One supernatural threat after another for the last four years and all of a sudden everything’s all well and dandy.  Well I don’t buy it Lydia!  Everything’s not well and dandy and you can’t tell me that there’s not another supernatural threat out there, waiting to attack us!  You can’t!”

“You’re right,” Lydia says quietly.  He looks at her, shocked, as if he never expected her to agree with it, “We have been though a lot, and there’s nothing wrong with being vigilant.  But…”

“But what?” Stiles says quickly, almost snapping but not quite.  

“But, Stiles, sometimes seeing patterns when they’re not there is not a good thing,” she says, as gently as she can.  

“So what, you think I’m crazy?” he says, definitely snapping this time.  Lydia licks her lips, takes a deep breath.  

“No,” she says, slowly, carefully, “I think you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he replies, not looking at her face, not meeting her eyes.  

“Sometimes the future is less scary than the supernatural,” Lydia says, giving him a meaningful look. They’re in Lydia’s driveway by this point, stopped, but the engine’s still running, the only break in the silence that forms.  Lydia knows Stiles doesn’t want to talk to anyone about this, much less her, so she does the only thing she knows she can do, leaves.

“Goodnight, Stiles” she says, slamming the car door behind her.


Lydia talks to Scott and Malia the very next day.

“Stiles has been coming to visit me almost every night,” she blurts out.  Scott’s eyebrows raise, and a slow grin starts to form on his face.  

“Well, Lydia, I can’t say this is unexpected,” he starts but Lydia cuts him off.

“Not like that,” she whispers forcefully, hitting him on the arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to know that she’s annoyed, “He’s been dragging my ass out of bed to look at things he think are supernatural every night for the past two weeks!”  Scott groans.  

“I know,” Scott says, and Lydia shoots him a patented Lydia glare.

“You know?” she growls.

“Who do you think he came to before you?” Scott asks, and Lydia feels a pain of guilt that she wasn’t his first choice, but she suppresses it before she can even fully register it, “I said no, of course, and since I’m not exactly a beacon of the supernatural myself, he wasn’t too interested in me.  I think he actually just stopped by on his way to your house,” and he says this as if he knows about the pain in her stomach that just dissipated when he spoke.  

“What do I do about it?” she asks desperately.  Malia, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up.

“Have you found anything supernatural?” she asks.  

“No, of course not,” Lydia shakes her head.  

“What if…you did,” Malia said, “Not anything serious or ‘end of the world’ variety like we usually deal with, but something small,” she adds quickly.  

“A small supernatural problem?” Lydia snorts, “Malia that’s…not actually half bad,” Lydia considers thoughtfully.  

“No way,” Scott says instantly, “There’s no way I’m tricking Stiles.”

“You won’t be,” Lydia says, “I will.”


He comes the next night, just like he has all the others.  There’s a little more spring in her step as he leads her to tonight’s destination…the hospital.  

He leads her to an empty room.  

“They were treating a girl in here,” he says, “They recovered her from a lake.  She almost drowned…but somehow she didn’t.  It was a miracle.”  The word “miracle” sounds like a disease when he speaks it and she looks at him.

“So what do you think it is?” she asks, “Mermaids?  Sirens?” It’s a joking that Lydia’s not used to making, but she’s trying to get rid of the permanent frown that has taken up residence on his face.

“Maybe,” he says quietly. Lydia moves over to bed, smoothing it down before taking a seat.  She closes her eyes.  She frowns. She can hear Stiles’ breathing get faster.

“What?” he asks sharply, “Lydia what?  What it is? What do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes still closed, “But I think that there definitely could be something here.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says, and then mimics her, “’I think that there definitely could be something here’. Bullshit, Lydia.”  Lydia’s eyes shoot open the first time he says bullshit, and she licks her lips.  She’s trying to find the words, to say “no I’m telling the truth” but she doesn’t want to lie to him and she’s sure it’s written all over her face.  

“I’m sorry,” she says. She looks down, opens her mouth, but he cuts her off again.

“Fuck Lydia,” he says, “You don’t have to pretend to spare my feelings okay?  I’m not some kid, okay?”

“Stiles-“ she starts.

“You know how I knew you were lying?” he’s yelling now, and it hurts, but she’s a big girl, and she can sit there and take it, “Because it only took you five fucking seconds to come to a conclusion.  If you thought there was something there, you would sit there and make sure because you wouldn’t want to play me like that.  Because you’d want to be sure because you’re always so careful and meticulous about things like this.  So next time you try to screw me over, at least make it convincing!” She stares at the ground.  She doesn’t know what to say.  Finally, she looks up and all the anger has disappeared from his body.  Now, he just looks sad.  

“Stiles-“ she starts again, but he cuts her off.

“C’mon let’s just go,” he says.  They don’t talk the whole ride home.  Lydia was sure that he was going to leave her there in the hospital for a moment there, but he didn’t.  And he wouldn’t, a little voice in her brain says.

His driving habits are the way they usually are, right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, his right leg shaking and Lydia wonders how many other people notice his driving habits.  Or how many other people know about her habits as well as Stiles.  

Sometimes she wondered if anybody else knows her as well as Stiles does.  But tonight, she knows that he does.  


He leaves her alone for a week after that, but he eventually comes back for the sixteenth time.  

“Lydia,” he says, but this time his voice sounds different.  She resists opening her eyes for as long as possible.  

“What are you, the boy who cried supernatural?” she replies, trying to sound annoyed, but she can’t resist smiling.  She can almost see his face crinkling up to a smile, and sure enough, when she opens her eyes, it’s there.

“Something like that,” he says, almost wistfully.

“Stiles,” she says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you.”  The last week, they’d been speaking less and she knew it was because of this sudden weight that had come between them because of last week.  And she missed him.  It surprised her how much at first.  When she walked into school and he didn’t meet her the first day that feeling in the depth of her stomach had returned and taken up permanent residence there.

“I know,” he said, “And I know you did it for the right reason, but Lydia,” she looks at him and he looks at her, “Don’t ever lie to me about this again.  Please Lydia-“ and his voice is desperate now, just like it’s been desperate for the last two weeks, there’s been too much desperate lately, and Lydia is sick of it.

“I won’t,” she promises and he looks at her and he knows that she believes him.  Then the silence hangs there for a minute.  

“Let’s go.”  And she gets up out of bed this time without protesting because she knows he needs this, and she’s here for him, she will always be here for him.  

Because this is their little routine right now, they’re Stiles and Lydia, he’s the human who shouldn’t know better but does, that human who always figured it out, the one who is attracted to the supernatural, and she’s the supernatural.

So they go off into the night, like vigilantes, the boy and the banshee, the girl and the boy who cried supernatural, saving the world from a threat that doesn’t exist.  

anonymous asked:



I’ll probably rant about this so i’m very sorry, and I don’t intend to put this on read more, because I feel like my thoughts could easily get across if i didn’t.

CLERITH is absolutely super fucking canon. I do agree that they could even end up together if Aerith didn’t die, but that won’t waver my love for CLOTI. CLOTI because I think that Cloud needs a woman who knows every single of him. Whether it’s the old Cloud or the new Cloud–Tifa knows him very well. And she’s the reason for Cloud joining SOLDIER. He wanted to impress her, but because it’s difficult to get the affection of a woman like Tifa, he likely fell in love with Aerith who’s more motherly, gentle and affectionate (in FFVII). Do you understand? It’s like he never realized Tifa’s feelings for him because she never admitted it, so he kinda fell in love with the one who’s more open and affectionate (Aerith for example). I guess a lot of people ships CLERITH because tragic couples gets more attention. He’s like the peter parker and aerith’s the gwen stacy and he will never forget about her, but then once again, his first love–Tifa, gets into the picture again and helps him move on and live his life again, and be happy. Even Nomura states that Aerith was the heroine, but they made Tifa another heroine, because they need someone who would stay with the hero until the end. Cloud’s young love for Tifa might’ve changed and learned to love Aerith more, but Tifa and Cloud’s “rekindling” of feelings by the end of FFVII, also means it’s a start of their new and stronger bond.  Also the fact that despite all the hardships and obstacles they went through that made them drift apart: Cloud been gone for 4 years, Tifa who stopped waiting for her prince (Cloud) and learned how to fight by herself, Cloud falling in love with Aerith, Cloud leaving for SOLDIER but ended up as an infantryman, Cloud’s fake persona, Cloud’s geostigma…but it’s amazing how in the end, they still fall back together. 


They totally have an undying love. It’s a common claim that Aerith wasn’t serious about Zack and it was a mere crush, but what do you call all those 89 letters, that promised pink dress, that ribbon, and all those 4 years of waiting? Isn’t that what you call love? Aerith may be young when he fell in love with Zack (She’s just 15 at that time), but after four years, and he’s already 19, she’s still waiting for Zack and still (probably, surely) inlove with him. On the other hand, soldier boy as well had fallen in love with flower girl. Even though he’s a ladies’ man and even had some sorta fling with Cissnei, Aerith was different, she was someone that he’s willing to go back to. Someone that he totally fell in love with. Remember the 23 wishes? Aerith put it all together into one simple wish: “I want to see you more, and know you more.”

We all know that Aerith keeps denying Zack especially in FFVII, but I think it’s her way of burying the past because she’s hurt for Zack’s disappearance and has a hard time accepting it. She probably knew he died, because she sensed it (as we see in Crisis Core), but in FFVII she keeps on saying that she never knew and avoided topics involving Zack. Sometimes real people are bitter because of their past right? So I guess Aerith was quite like this because she waited and he never came.

And the pink dress? It’s a promise that whenever they go on dates, she would wear it. And look. In FFVII she still wears it. There’s a “stain” of Zack Fair everywhere around Aerith. The dress, the ribbon, the buster sword, and even Cloud’s fake angsty!ZackFair persona.

It’s cool that in the end, they also fall back together like Cloud and Tifa, but this time, in the Lifestream, watching over their friends. They were separated by the cruel fate, but once again brought together by it. (referring to Aerith’s death). It’s so bittersweet, I want to cry every fucking time. 

Also the fact that Zack just died RIGHT OUTSIDE MIDGAR. Almost there, almost with Aerith again, JUST FUCKING ALMOST…and then those bastard shinra men killed him. The reason he strives to go back to Midgar was to see Aerith again, and while doing so, he’s also protecting Cloud and never intended to leave him because they’re friends. Not only was he a loyal lover, friend and brother…he also became a hero. He’s just too pure, he deserves a pure woman like Aerith. A liberated boy and a gentle girl. It’s what they are.

“Aerith…wait for me.” GETS ME EVERY FRICKING TIME.

It’s funny, because after playing Trepsasser, I feel like Ainur’Len’s story has just begun.

After being told her whole life to follow someone else’s dreams, to put aside her wishes just to do the right thing. But what is the right thing? To become Keeper of her clan, despite just wanting to be a story teller? To rebuild the Inquisition, earning the title of Herald of Andraste, putting her faith aside?

She never wanted this. She kept wiping the blood off her hands, joking, shrugging. She recruited people, earning their faith, but never trusting her own words.

Why? Is this the right thing? She kept asking herself that. She let Solas take away her Vallaslin hoping that it would lift at least one burden off her shoulders. 

She made friends, she met the most important people in her life, her companions. They made her fall in love with this world by exploring Thedas and getting lost in ancient ruins that once belonged to her people. She had someone to protect, so she just accepted her responsibilities.

But she never felt free.

After she loses her arm and the mark, after swallowing the truth about the old legends and about the person she loves the most, things begin to become more clear. To become true.

This is when it hits her. She realizes one thing: this is her mission. Her duty. HERS. She chose it, against everyone else. She’ll get to Solas, knock some sense into him, redeem him, stop him and save the fricking world again. Because she kinda likes it.
For the first time in her life, she chose what she wants to be, what she wants to do. 

I need to see her again, play her again. I can’t let go of her knowing that she just found her way, knowing that whatever happens, her smile is free, and her duty feels right. Pls bioware. Make it happen.

Untitled Joshifer One-Shot SSS

A/N: Hey everyone! This is unexpected, isn’t it? Especially the subject material lol! I’ve been thinking about this particular one shot for a long time though, and I finally started it a few days ago. It’s going to be pretty lengthy, so I’m hoping the motivation sticks with me so I can finish it. Regardless, I’m seeing a ton of SSS/previews on my dash right now, so I figured I’d give you all a little glance at what I’m working on!

Also, does the universe seem familiar? 👀

There’s no bathroom anymore, but a trailer. I’m not on the bathroom floor, but instead curled up on a couch.

There is however, one thing that links the two different scenarios together, one thing that unifies them completely.

Talking about the stomach bug I definitely don’t have.

And just like last time, my entire body reacts accordingly. My eyes widen as tears are quick to re-pool. My limbs tremble as a shiver runs down the length of my spine. My heart seems to skip a few beats before leaping up into my throat, twitching and thundering all the while.

A component is missing from the previous time though; there’s no panic. Utter shock and wonder, perhaps, but no panic. And as I slowly lift my gaze off the floor, breaking the flashback and my thoughts, I can see the reason why.

I’m not alone, in the bathroom nor life in general. I’m with Josh. I’m with my husband.

Slowly I meet his stare in silence, wide blue searching hazel. Though there are hints of confusion wrinkling his forehead, and bits of concern wrinkling his brow, I can see we’re in sync as usual.

He’s come to the same realization as well.

I flounder to say something, my trembling lips opening and closing, but only shaky breaths escape. As usual, Josh is the one to step up, softly framing my face with a hand and opening his mouth to speak.

But right before he can say anything, a knife cuts through the tension. A wiggly, energetic, adorable one.

“Dadddyyy? Daddddyyyy?”

A small body is quick to follow the high pitched voice, Caden hobbling up to the doorway. The second she catches sight of me, her face breaks out in a toothy toddler grin, and her motives change.

“Mommy!” she shrieks as she runs towards me, oblivious to anything that was going on before, something that’s now being pushed to the back of my head for the time being.

Ultimate Jeanmarco Playlist: Youtube Style

For Fubaraian;

Beneath the cut is  VERY LONG LIST OF JEANMARCO TRACKS. Because I was basically dared to and my motto is go big or go home imagine that in snk verse omg I’d be dead

Might edit it later but like seriously this is so organised I want this to get some attention ok

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