ugh throw back

Look at me (boyf riends)

jfc it’s done look it’s the boyf riends being dorks can you believe it what a shock. 

Alternative title: How These Morons Manage To Put Off Kissing Each Other For Three Pages Because They’re Nervous Wrecks. HTMTPOKEOFTPBTNW for short. Just rolls off the tongue honestly.

From the very first few days of the Squip being disabled it was clear Jeremy was far from okay. He still flinched sometimes when his voice cracked, or when he got “dramatic” as he himself put it. Michael found a lot of things concerning about Jeremy’s behavior that hadn’t been there before. How he would sometimes slouch slightly and then suddenly straighten up as though he’d been burned. How he got uncomfortable doing anything that could be deemed uncool. Michael couldn’t lie, that in particular hurt quite a bit. Asking Jeremy if they could continue playing Apocalypse of the Damned from where they’d left off and seeing him setting his jaw and clenching his fists as if he was steeling himself for something; that had stung. Michael had forgiven Jeremy practically the second an apology was out of his mouth but that didn’t mean things were perfectly okay between them. The months of being completely alone were still fresh in his mind. Michael had to keep reminding himself that Jeremy was a victim in this too, that was clear to anyone watching even if he wouldn’t flat out say what the Squip had done.

Keep reading

Honestly those “reblog or you’re a terrible person” things give me so much anxiety. I usually ignore them but they seriously haunt me. Even those posts that are supposed to ease your mind about that kind of thing do not help me. Really, sometimes I just don’t wanna reblog them but then I see them everywhere. They get longer. Things like “I don’t care if this doesn’t go with your blog” and “why would anyone not reblog this” get added to them. A lot of them have good messages but do you really need to prey on people’s anxiety to get your point across? I didn’t reblog a thing about anon hate that said you should reblog it and I know logically it’s not a big deal and I’m not a bad person for not reblogging it but I’m becoming sick. I’m getting the kind of anxiety that builds up in your gut and chest and makes you wanna barf and I’m pretty sure that’s not what that post was intended to do. It doesn’t matter how many reassurances I get or how many pictures of dogs are sent to protect me. They make me so anxious I feel sick. Why does anybody say anything like that on posts like that? Why?

Other people: not driving at a green light because they’re looking at their phone

Me, an intellectual: not driving at a green light because I’m looking at my adorable stinkin’ dog


Jack Kelly x Reader

Dear Fansies,
I am sooooo sorry this took so long to come out! From all of the check ins you guys sent into my inbox, I can tell you were all super excited for this! So I hope this oneshot does justice for your expectations!
I did a lot of research about pregnancy symptoms and stages, so I hope you like it! It’s as accurate as I could possibly make it. Enjoy!

- K

Keep reading

Star Wars

Request: “Would you like an award for that” with sassy Calum
Summary: your old friend somehow manages to be simultaneously way too sassy and entirely cute

“I can’t believe you just said this,” Calum gasps in mock horror.

Deeming that this doesn’t deserve a response, you just chuck one of his old socks at his face. He ducks and laughs.

“Your aim really hasn’t improved much, has it?”

“Well excuse me if while you were busy being a child on your world tour, I didn’t have time to practice hurling things at people because I was busy having an actual job you know? Doing actual responsible adult things?”

“Wow.” Calum deadpans. “Would you like an award for that?

You throw the other sock. This time it hits him in the chest and makes a wounded sound, clutching his hands over his chest.

“What…what have you done?” He rasps.


He falls to his knees, raising a lone hand towards the sky, saying a dramatic “why hath thou forsaken me?” before dropping to the ground face down.

“Ugh,” you throw yourself back on the sofa, “I killed Calum Hood? What am I going to say to your fans?”

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Calum raises his head, a strange light in his eyes, “they will find you, and they will murder you in your sleep. Especially once they find out that you like the Star Wars prequels better than the original trilogy. No but seriously, I’ve erased you from my will just now. Disowned you.”

“Hm. Well I guess that defeats the purpose of killing you.”

“Grave tactical error there,” Calum agrees with a grin.

You smile at him fondly as he sits on the couch next to you. It’s strange to think of the young, scrawny boy you used to be friends with when you see him now, all tattooed muscles and talent and confidence. He’s even lost his Australian accent.

But then again, he’s as goofy and ridiculous as he always was. Maybe stardom just gave him an opportunity to become more him.

You lean over to ruffle his hair, and he grabs on to you like a fucking koala. You miss the hell out of him constantly, but he deserves this. You’re happy for him. And it’s not like you never see him, he’s always inviting you over to LA or whatever exotic place he’s taking a vacation in when he can.

But now he’s come home for Christmas and you get him just for yourself a couple of days. No sharing with fans or fancy models, just him and you and–

“Rogue One?” He questions, hooking his chin on your hip.

“I haven’t watched it.”

“Oh my god! We’re watching it now!”

He jumps up and grabs his laptop, quickly finding the movie on some website. As the beginning credits start to roll, you can’t help the stupid feeling that grows in your chest because he’s so soft and warm as he gets back on the sofa and drapes himself over you so you’re almost spooning him.

“Big baby,” you whisper under your breath.

“Psshhh, you love me.”

“Definitely,” you say, with much less sarcasm in your voice than you intended, and Calum is silent for a couple of moments before grabbing your hand in his and squeezing it.

“Good. Now shut up, we’re watching a movie.”

anonymous asked:

bro. BRO. I saw that kiss and run away ask, fuckin' cute, may i say. So bro, you should do the swapfell skeles for that one. (´• ω •`) ♡

Why thank you, Anon! I shall accept your request! I enjoyed writing these a lot more than I should’ve.



You and Blueberry startle as a stray bone flies into the librarby’s window. He instantly panics and shrieks at you, “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

Your face recoils as he tries to place the blame on you. “What?! This was your fault! If you didn’t have such horrendous aim, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we!?”


You place a sassy hand on your hip. “Oh, and does it look like I use bone magic?”


Hey!” You bark, making the angry smol jump. “That was uncalled for!”

“OH AND YOU CALLING MY AIM HORRENDOUS WASN’T?!” He leans away from you as he tries to piece his words together. “A-AND BESIDES, YOU CAN’T BLAME ME FOR THAT MISTAKE!”

“And why’s that?” You lean in his personal space, making him go all fidgety.

He chokes on his words as he stares into your soul-capturing eyes. “W-WHAT ARE YOU-” He scrambles away from your slow approaching form until his back hits a wall. “H-HEY! STAY BACK!”

“Where the hell are ya’ damn kids?! I’m gonna fucken kill y’all!!” You suddenly hear the librarian screech.

Instinctively, you push Blackberry into the neighboring alleyway and follow close behind.

“WHA-” He tries to scream, but you place your hand firmly on his mouth and hold him close to your chest as to restrain him.

Blackberry wriggles like a fish on land and you can’t help but feel the heat radiating off his bones. He isn’t making this any easier for you to hide each other.

You dare not to look for the enraged librarian and settle for listening out for footsteps instead. And soon enough, you hear the snow crunching beneath their feet as they walk away.

Once you release Blackberry, he jumped like three feet in the air before landing in a defensive position, his hands out in front of him.


Okay, that’s enough out of him.

With an authoritative yet gentle pull, you place a soft kiss on his teeth. He gasped and his hands hovered over your body, not knowing where to touch. In an instant, you separate yourself from him to be met with wide sockets and a purple face.

Shut up.” You say to him with a stone cold look.

He jumped at your sudden assertion, visibly gulping back his fears and nodding quickly.

Good, that showed him.

You nod at him with a smirk and walk away.

There was no need to run after him. He surprisingly didn’t go after you. The next day, however, was a different story.

You’re awoken with loud knocks at the door. It’s 5 am, who the hell is even up right now?! Groggily, you emerge from you slumber. “I’m comin’ I’m comin’” You growl.

When you open the door, you’re blinded by a bunch of plants? No wait, those were flowers.

“T-TAKE THEM!” Oh you’d know that voice anywhere.

Gripping at the stems, you realize that these plants must have been pulled from someone’s garden, as the dirt and roots still remained. Right when you pulled the ‘bouquet’ from your face, the flower boy had disappeared.

Looking confusedly from the empty space in front of you to the flowers, you laugh.

“Such a dork.”


You and Rus were currently sitting on the couch watching a B-list horror flick. He had done the yawn-and-stretch-the-arm-over-his-potential-lover thing, but you had gotten so engrossed with your harsh critiquing on the terrible movie that you hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t you dare look in the closet, idiot! She’s gonna kill you!” You yelled at the TV, leaning towards it intently. God, how could people be so stupid?!

Rus simply chuckled and started to toy with your hair. “i don’t think they can hear you.”

A scream resonated from the TV as the aforementioned idiot is eaten alive by the closet dwelling demon girl. “Ugh!” You expressed, throwing yourself back. “How predictable can this get?”

Rus shrugged, pulling you closer. All of these moves he had been making on you, yet you hadn’t a clue. He was a little disheartened, but that didn’t stop him from trying. “you tell ‘em, m’lady.” He encouraged you with a small nudge and you continued your rant.

Oh, you were gonna tell ‘em alright…

“Why is it that every horror movie follows by the same stupid tropes? The smart virgin, the slutty idiot, the scared and screamy people, and these godawful police officers,” You angrily shove a handful of popcorn in your mouth. “Ish shoo dumnn!” You muttered.

“chew before you swallow, my mistress.” He said with a few pats to your head.

You hummed out an ‘oh’ and swallowed. “I just think its sad that all horror movies nowadays are the same. Hell, even the good ones are terrible.” You were finally calming down from your little rant, your cheeks puffed and tinged a light pink.

You suddenly turn your head with a jerk and your lips so happened to collide with Rus.




You yelp as you pull away from this accidental kiss. His sockets were wide and the orange glow emitting from his face was blinding. But you were too embarrassed to notice.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stuttered, jumping up from your seat. “I-I-I’ll just get us some more popcorn-” Before you could back away any further, he grabbed you with an iron grip and sat you in his lap.

In all honesty, he had no idea what he was doing, but he wasn’t about to let you know that. He gently nuzzled your lips in a quick and chaste skeletal kiss.

When you looked at him, stunned at his sudden actions, he breaks out of his trance and looks away. “s-sorry m’lady. i couldn’t help myself.”

He’s a flustered mess. Help him.

Walkers Amongst Us (Part 7)

A/N: Two parts in one day!! WooooOoooo! 

Pairings: Dean x Seth X Roman X Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Tagging: wwefoever70 reignsfan77 blackxrollins unstableambrosegirl mrsjonmoxley unstablefuture jasli123 wiz13silver sanazebreigns wonderholicc krazikins and blueblazezz!

“Y/N, I….I…..Ugh!” Seth yelled, throwing himself back against the couch. You sighed and move around Dean, so that you were standing in front of Seth.

“Please, Seth! Just tell me! Whatever it is! Just say it and get it over with!” 

Seth looked at you and opened his mouth, then closed it. 

“Seth, just fucking say it! Make me understand! Seth! Just fucking do it!”

Seth stood, and grabbed you by the face, he pressed his lips to yours, hard. You were shocked at first, but kissed back quickly.

Seth pulled away abruptly. “Is that what you fucking wanted! You wanted to know so fucking bad! Well there you fucking go!” Seth yelled.

Seth quickly and angrily walked out of the house. You stood there in shock. So he did like you, he was being an asshole because he liked you. You would have smiled, but he stormed out of the house before you could even say anything.

“Well…..that’s one way of doing it.” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Suddenly sadness fell over you. So he kisses you and then leave, he yells at you, like, like it was your fault that he liked you. 

You sighed and sat on the couch, he was so confusing. One minute he made you feel so safe and happy and then next he’s rude and mean. You ran a hand through your hair. 

“Hey, come on. Don’t be upset over that. He….he gets like that all the time. He’ll come back and talk with you. He likes you, he really does.” Dean said, sitting next to you.

“Why does he have to make everything so difficult though! Like he didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say! Because if he did….then he would have known, that I like him to.”

“Just let him cold down, okay. Let’s go to this stupid party, eat their food and then leave.” Dean said, smiling. 

You smiled and nodded your head. “Alright, lets go.”

Dean knocked on the door, rather loudly. “Geez, Dean. Don’t wake the already woken dead.” 

Dean looked at you and smiled. “Ahhhh, that’s good one!”  You and him both chuckled. The door opened and Hunter was standing there, smiling. 

“Ah, I wasn’t sure if you were going to come!” Hunter said, stepping to the side.

You and Dean both walked in, and looked in on the party. There was a lot of people here. 

Dean mumbled someone’s name. “What?” You asked.

“Solomon? Solomon is that you?” Dean said, walking into the room. A guy turned around, he was shorter then Dean, one side on his head was shaved and then other side was all black, coming down just past his ear. He was in all black, black jeans, black boots, shirt and a leather jacket. He had this weird facial hair thing going on, it looked like a chin strap, but then it was longer on his chin.

Dean hugged him. You smiled as you stood there. “No, Seth?” Hunter asked, standing next to you. 

“Uh, he said he would come later.” You lied. Hunter nodded his head and then walked away. You stood there, not sure where to go. 

“Hi, you’re one of the new comers right?” Someone asked behind you.

You turned and seen that a woman was standing behind you. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and she was wearing a blue dress.

“Uh, yeah.” You said. She smiled. “I’m Charlotte.” She said, holding her hand out.

“Y/N.” You said, taking her hand. “Nice to meet you.” She said. “Nice to meet you too.” 

She smiled at you. “Don’t know where to go?” She asked.

“No, not a clue.” She laughed. “Come on, you can come and hang out with me, Finn and Paige.” She says as she grabs your arm and drags you over to her group of friends.

Finn smiled when he seen you. “Hi, Y/N.” Finn says. 

“Hey, Finn.” You said, straightening out your clothes. Charlotte had dragged you, like you tripped over something while coming over here with her.

“Paige, Y/N. Y/N, Paige.” Charlotte said, gesturing with her hand. 

“Nice to meet ya, Y/N.” Paige said, holding her hand out. 

“Nice to me you.” You said, taking her hand. She had raven black hair, brown eyes, and she was wearing a dark purple dress.

You were starting to fell a little underdress. You were only wearing a pair of black jeans, a dark gray shirt and your boots. 

Even Finn had a dress shirt on. “I guess I didn’t get the email about dressing nicer then normal.” You said.

Finn and Charlotte started laughing. “That’s a good one ya got there, Y/N!” Finn said.

Paige smirked and rolled her eyes. You smiled and rubbed the back of your neck.

“Don’t come and say hello, Y/N?” Randy says, walking over to you.

“Hey, Randy. I just got here.” You said. Randy smiles and says his hellos to Finn, Charlotte and Paige. 

“Do you mind if I just take her here for a moment?”

They look at you, then at him and shake their heads. Randy takes your hand and leans you to the front door and out onto the pouch.

“I want to apologize about earlier. I set Seth off, and I apologize.” Randy said.

“It’s ok. Dean says he can get like that.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

It was quiet then, Randy gently reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, and then gently stroked your cheek.

He leaned in and kissed you other cheek. You stood there frozen. Doe Randy like you?

He pulled away and dropped his hand, then quickly went back inside. You looked at the door he just went in and then looked the other way, seeing Seth standing there.

He turned and began to walk away. “Oh no you don’t.” You mumbled, walking down the steps and after Seth. 

You weren’t about to let him leave. Leave thinking that you like Randy. You liked him.

You caught up to him and grabbed his arm, turning him around. Seth looked at you, anger and hurt were clear as day on his face.

“What do you want!” Seth yelled.

You looked at him. “I-I just wanted to say that-” Seth cut you off. 

“Say what?! That you don’t fell the same! That you like Randy not me! Save you’re fucking breathe, Y/N! I don’t want to fucking hear it!”

“Seth, please! Just let-” He cut you off again.

“I said I don’t want to hear it, Y/N! Just don’t fucking talk to me! Okay! Leave me the fuck alone!” Seth yelled, turning and walking away.

You stood there alone, tears in your eyes. He wouldn’t even listen to you, he just left you.

You didn’t sleep at all last night. You came back after the party and stayed in your room. Dean tried to talk with you, but you wouldn’t talk to him.

Seth made you so angry, so sad, so confused, yet at time so fucking happy and safe. He made you feel these things that you hadn’t felt before. 

You reached to the side of you and grabbed a pillow and pressed it to your face and let out a scream. 

Then someone knocked on the door. You growled and rolled out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it.

“Get dress and meet me down stairs, we need to talk.” With that, Dean walked away. 

You shut the door and chanced into a pair of jeans and a dark red hoodie. You pulled your boots on and strapped your weapons belt on and made sure you knife was in it. You left the room and then met Dean in the living room.

You seen Dean, Roman, Randy and some other guy. He was pale, red hair, that was cut into a mohawk and beard that looked braided. 

“Hi, Roman!” You said, walking right over at giving him a hug.

“Hi, Y/N.” Roman said, squeezing you tight. You pulled away and seen the other guy staring at you. 

“Ok, so you’re going with us on a run.” Randy said, looking at you.

You looked over at him and nodded your head. “Is…is uh, Seth going?”

“No, and don’t tell him that either.” Roman said. 

“He won’t like it.” Dean said. You nodded your head again and then looked over at the other guy, that was still staring at you. 

“Sheamus.” He said in an irish accent, sticking out his hand.

“Y/N.” You said, shaking his hand. 

“Alright then. Lets get our guns from Kane and then head out.” Randy said.


Character: Gally

Requests: Can we have some Gally imagines please! I feel like he is always neglected and called the ‘villain’ I want something cute with gally. 

Could you do one where the reader is new to the glade and at night gally catches her crying and comforts her





“I’ll be okay I’ll be okay I’ll be okay” your voice is barely higher than a whisper.  The only sound occupying the stale air is your trembling body rocking back and forth in the small metal box. Your knees are hugged to your chest, your pretty little face buried in them. You’ve arrived at this strange place. They call it the glade. And they are the fifty or so teenage boys that seem to call this place home. It’s cold and dark by now. They tried to get you out but you refused. Actually kicked and screamed every time they tried to come down and touch you. Newt tries to encourage you out of the box.

“Yes. You’ll be okay if just get out of the shucking box. Jeez this new greenie is sure a pain in the-”

“Newt take it easy on her” Alby warns sternly. You peer up, the rocking yielding. That Alby kid and Newt stand above the edges of the hell box. Well at least that’s what you call it. Cause it hasn’t been an exactly smooth ride over here.

“Well she’s just been bloody sitting there all day! And it’s getting late” Alby rubs the back of his neck with his callused hand. They’re facing each other and can’t see you actually looking at them.

“Hey is the girl still in there” the curt comment is followed by a laugh.

“Yeah” sighs Alby. “It’s dark now and everything we tried she refused”

“Even frypan’s cooking” the voice laughs even louder again. Newt kinda snorts.

“Well you try to get her out!” You squeak at the sudden rise in his voice. The boys look down at you. You quickly hide your face back in your knees.

“Well it’s your lucky day Gally” you hear Alby speak.

“It’s your job to get her out of there. And you can’t leave until you do”

“But-” Gally tries to protest but Alby is long gone by now. You peek up. Gally takes a long deep breath and looks down at you. You don’t look away. He looks to his left then right before lowering himself down. You sit quietly like a little duck in the middle of shaft.

“Alright” his long tall figure blocks the moon light from raining on your (dark/brown/light) skin.

“You need to get out…now” his voice is stern and heartless. You look blankly at him.

“Ugh” he throws his head back in frustration.

“Ok listen” Gally sits down, with his legs criss crossed, in front of you. “Uh” he’s nervous you can sense it. The sudden change in demeanor and body language.

“Well I haven’t  really talked to a girl in a long time and uh…i know it’s hard and scary right now but it’s ok you’ll get through it…I guess…so yeah it’s late and I wanna go to bed so can you kinda” he gestures with his head up the box. You look up. The stars start to blanket the night sky. The twinkling show stows you away for a quick second. Then you remember, outside those edges is danger.  When you look back Gally’s already on his feet. Ok it’s now or never.

“Ready to go?” You nod. He extends a hand. Hesitantly and carefully you wrap your delicate fingers around his. He hauls you up. Your legs feel like jelly. You wobble a bit. Gally still hangs on firmly to your hand. Once you get your bearings he hoists you up and out of the box. You take your first step into your new home. It’s…its a field? With goliath towering walls. You turn in a circle completely amazed. A heavy hand lands your shoulder. You nearly jump out of your skin.

“Sorry” Gally quickly raises both of his hands up. “The homestead is this way” he starts waking to a two story building who’s seen better days. “Sorry that we can’t give you a tour right now. You took forever getting out of that box. I actually think you broke a record. Worlds scaredest greenie” he laughs lightly. The moon was dim he was lucky he couldn’t see the eye you were giving him now. If looks can kill he’d drop dead. You continue following him through the door and up the steep wooden stairway. It’s only a few more feet until he stops in front of a door.

“This is your room” he jesters. The silver knob squeaks as his heavy hands turns it toward the left. It swings open…its a plain bland room. Tears swell in your eyes. Even though you can’t remember home, you know this will never be it. Or at least feel like it. You walk in slowly. You place a hand on the wooden dresser, letting it drag as you walk by. A tear trickles down your cheek.

“So I’ll be back to check on you before lights out” Gally shuts the door before you’re able to turn and face him. That’s when you lose it.  It’s been a long day of guessing and fears. It’s like a dam of the worst of the worst being supported by your hopes has leaked and collapses. You shuffle to the bed, tears blurring everything. The stiff mattress is cold and lifeless. The rusting coils squealing as they support your weight. You can’t see anything. Your hands fly to your face forcefully and angrily wiping away the tears. You hate feeling helpless. But the water won’t stop spilling. Why are you crying so much? Oh no. Blubbering noises start to escape your lips. Your body contributes and starts to shake. It’s a mess. You’re a mess. Suddenly a creak echoes. You glance over to the door. Or at least try to through the curtains of tears.

“Hey. I knocked but didn’t- oh woah are you okay” it’s Gally. You must have not heard him knocking through all your pathetic blubbering.

“Uh yeah. I’m fine” you wipe your face quickly and sit up straight.

“Well you sure don’t look like your fine” Gally slowly walks over to you. He changed his clothes. He rests in a plain white t-shirt and cleaner looking bottoms. His eyes try to find yours but you can’t take yourself to look at him.

“Hey look at me”…silence. “(Y/n)” Gally squats to your level. His hands rest on your knees.

“Greenie those eyes are to beautiful to be wasted on tears” you look at him.

“There you go” he takes his thumb, gently he wipes the tears away form your cheeks.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m here. I’ll protect you okay? You have my word. And it’s not so bad once you get used to it. These guys here aren’t half bad” your sniffling stops.


“Really. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. You get to meet everybody” you smile to yourself. Gally rises to his feet. He walks towards the door. You look up helplessly.

“Wait!” He freezes. Crap no. You should have just let him leave. He faces you, a shocked look painting his face.

“Can you please…stay…just for tonight” a grin plasters his face.

“Yeah” you lift the covers and scoot under them. Gally kills the lights before joining you. He spoons you. Your back against his front. His full-size arms pull you in closer. His hands then rest lightly on your hips.

“Is this okay?” He asks so innocently. Like a little kid not knowing if what he’s doing is right.

“Perfect”, you whisper back. He then nuzzles his head in your neck. You slowly drift off into a dream peacefully wrapped in Gally’s arms.

Caught a big one

The party is a 2 barbarians with an intelligence of 8 each (one dwarf one half-Orc), 2 hobbit rangers, and one elven druid. They were sailing to Bauldur’s Gate with a captured cleric of Bane (long story), and they were attacked by a hobgoblin longboat with a huge water elemental pulling it.
Rorik (the dwarf, OOC): “I cast my fishing pole at the water elemental.”
DM: “ok roll”
*natural 20*
DM: “ok roll again”
DM laughing his ass off: “you successfully somehow hook the water of the water elemental and force it onto the deck”
Rorik: “Ugh too small. *throws it back*”

Iron Ore (Part 2/?)

In case anyone wonders, I’m thinking Scott, Allison and Stiles are probably around…20 and spending their summer living at home like a lot of college students that reside in dorms tend to do. :)

(Read on AO3)

“No way dude. Not buying it.” Scott has his arms crossed as he stares into the dessert bar of Frosting’s Bakery. The boy is way too serious about his baked goods, and that’s coming from Stiles of all people.

“I’m telling you Scotty,” Stiles replies enthusiastically and spewing cupcake crumbs everywhere. “It was totally normal!”

A little awkward, maybe, but normal nonetheless.

After Derek found Stiles completely lost and gaping up at the Hale home, he’d ushered him inside huffily, ordered him to call someone to come pick him up. The house was no stranger on the inside than the out. A little cold though. Unlived in. Stiles supposes that’s what happens when you have a space meant for many but only occupied by one. It smelled a strange mixture of soft (laundry detergent) and sharp (metal). The latter was probably due to Derek’s…hobby? Job? Whatever it was that required the welding helmet and gloves that Derek placed on the small table by the entryway.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and Stiles…well Stiles was still a little in awe of him honestly. By the time his father came knocking, they’d barely spoken three sentences between them.

“There is no way he’s not a serial killer, Stiles. I’ve heard stories. He Jedi mind-tricked you or something.”

“Ugh,” Stiles throws his head back dramatically, “I will forever regret letting you watch those films.”

Keep reading

Thank you, anons. ^-^ ))
I appreciate your messages and will keep them in my askbox.

I will continue to stand up for my art, since artists should not be subjected to what other people feel entitled to do to their work without getting permission from the creators, or being turned invisible by having their work posted without credit, as if the art exists on its own.

I also vehemently stand against the use of hurtful insults and name-calling towards any person. Stop that. What do people hope to achieve by using words of hate? Instead, we should work on explaining things and present reasons for why something is acceptable or not. I have been bullied before, both in person and online. You may have experienced it as well. It is not a productive behaviour for anyone involved. Even when I am angry at someone because of their actions or words, I would not wish harm on them. My goal is to share my reasons for being angry/upset in the hopes that the other person understands how their behaviour can affect others. The spread of understanding via reasons and sharing perspectives is more effective at changing the behaviour of people than using insults and ugly words. Let’s keep respect going around for everyone.

With A Little Help From My Friends (1/3)

Summary: AU in which Emma and Killian have been friends for decades, which comes in handy when Killian needs a favor. (CS childhood friends/fake dating AU.) For colifers –  MERRY CHRISTMAS, SARAH! I am (was?) your Captain Swan Secret Santa! I had so much fun talking to you over the past month, and I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS GIFT!
Rating: T
Word Count: 8,714

Also on

After a long day at work, Emma finally approached her apartment building and made a beeline for her mailbox, jabbing the key into the slot and opening it to find that it was empty. With a sigh, she backed away from the mailboxes and went over to the elevators, pressing the ‘up’ button and waiting for the doors to open.

She got off on her floor, and, as she approached her apartment, she could hear her TV on the other side of the door, which could only mean one thing: Killian was over.

With a faint smile on her face, she opened the door to find him sprawled out on her couch in a tie-dye shirt and sweatpants, watching intently as a soccer match played on the screen.

“Well, well, well,” he called out to her without moving his eyes from the television, “look who’s finally made it home. Post is on the table.”

“I was wondering where it went,” she replied with a half-chuckle as she walked further into the apartment and set her keys and purse down on the kitchen table, where she found her mail sorted into three piles: magazines, bills, and personal items. “Thank you.”

Keep reading

Captain Swan  

Submission from lenfaz

  • You tried to barge into a private conversation so I said something devastatingly witty and dismissive but you came back with something even meaner and more clever AU

“It’s been a day,” Emma says in greeting, flopping into the booth Elsa’s been keeping for them in their favorite dive bar. She’s grateful to have a friend like her, when a simple this is a day only tequila can fix text is met with I’ll meet you there.

Elsa lifts an eyebrow, pushing the already ordered tequila shot across the table before lifting her own. “Does it have something to do with why you’re dripping all over the bar?”

“Ugh, yes.” Emma throws back the shot, wincing at the burn of the cheap liquor. One of these days they’ll find a more high-class establishment (it’s a lie, this is pretty much the only option in Storybrooke). She pushes her fingers through her soaked hair, watching in dismay as it drips onto her leather jacket with a shiver. “The Bug and I are having a disagreement again. He won this time.”

“She.” Emma whips her head (soaked hair smacking her in the face) to glare at the source of the comment, a man slouched in the booth across from them. From the looks of him, he’s been having his own pity-party, the table cluttered with empty glasses and a lazy leer on his lips as he watches her, his eyes lingering on her damp shirt.

He’s also wearing leather pants and, unless she is very much mistaken, guyliner.

She’s too irritated to dignify him with a response and turns back to Elsa. “I know I should have it taken in, but I’m sort of broke right now, so I walked. And it’s raining.”

She is how one refers to vessels. Ships, cars, it’s all the same. She.” He’s trying to interfere in their conversation again, and Emma is having none of it. She’s soaked and she’s tired and she’s stressed out and who the hell does this guy think he is?

“Hey, Elsa, remember that time we were having our own, private conversation and some sad Jack Sparrow wannabe wasn’t offering up an opinion no one cares about?” Emma’s eyes are on his, deep green and spitting with fire. She’s surprised by the clarity in his expression, the deep cerulean of his eyes as he meets her head on, but she doesn’t let it show.

“I do seem to remember that, yep.” Emma doesn’t have to look at her friend to know the somewhat amused somewhat worried smile she’s wearing. Neither of them do particularly well with assholes in bars, but Emma is the one who’s thrown a punch before – and she’s really not in the mood for it today.

Keep reading