well that was longer than i meant to be

I am a bit ticked off.

Hello, @garr9988 . You may or may not remember, but I was the first person to respond to your reblog of that Bering & Wells post, in which you called out @ellabellbee . In the Ask I sent to you, I said the following: “Hey man, just FYI, you don’t need to ‘explain’ things to anybody in the B&W fandom, and particularly not to @ellabellbee. We’ve been here a lot longer than you and know what went down just a tiny bit better. For real! Thanks.”

To which you responded publicly, saying that I sounded condescending but that I probably hadn’t meant to. (For the record: meant to, but only a little.) You also said that you “felt the need to correct people” when they held “incorrect beliefs” about things. I didn’t much like your response, I’ll admit, but okay. I said what I said, you said what you said, and you made those words public.

I bring this up only because you deleted my Ask and your answer: you erased me, and my voice, from the situation. And I don’t often express anger publicly, but erasure is one of the things I REALLY DON’T LIKE.

You say you’re a feminist, and you support that by citing the dictionary definition of feminism. I really, genuinely hope you won’t find it condescending if I point out that dictionary definitions tend not to cover lived experience in its fullness. I’m a feminist too. My lived experience of that—as a gay white woman, one who has spent most of her working life in fields dominated by men—probably gives me a different perspective than yours gives you. Anyway, my lived definition includes the importance of not erasing women’s voices. Maybe take that into consideration the next time you decide, first, to insert your voice into a conversation that is mostly (but of course not completely) among and about women, and second, to mostly disregard, and then delete, what was intended as a friendly warning from a woman who is fully informed about said conversation.

In conclusion:

They’re good captains, Bront.

One of the things I love about Black Paladin Lance is that there are so many possibilies for how he becomes the Black Paladin.  Here are just a few ideas I’ve had:

  • Allura brings up the fact that they’ll need a new Black Paladin and Lance immediantly steps up.  He was the leader pre-voltron so it’s only natural, really.  
    • This can also go many ways.
    • Keith freaks the fuck out at Lance because um, hello?  There’s no way Lance would make a good leader, he’s reckless and talks them all into messes all the time.  Not to mention the fact Shiro said he should be the leader, Keith isn’t going to go against Shiro’s words
      • Lance points out that Keith is just as reckless as Lance is, expect Keith is at his most reckless in battle so it’s not a really good idea for Keith to be the leader.  He also mentions that of course Shiro picked Keith for the leader, if Keith’s really that blind to favourism he’s an idiot.  Shiro barely looks at Lance, Hunk, or Coran.  
      • The dispute quickly tears the group apart.  Coran and Hunk are for team Lance, Allura (and techinally Shiro) are team Keith
      • Pidge could go either way, on one hand she could go for Keith because 1. She trusts Shiro, and 2. She too doesn’t really notice how good a leader Lance is cause that the type of leader Lance is.  Shiro’s a very obvious leader, he stands above the others (both literally and figuritively) and is helps pull others up.  He’s not entitled but his energy basically screams follow me.  Lance isn’t like that, he’s the type of leader that will stand in front of you when there’s consequences or danger, but outside that he’s standing with you or behind you and pushing you to be your best.  So Pidge just sort of didn’t notice she followed his lead in the garrison.
      • Or Pidge could be Team Lance because she did notice 
      • Personally i perfer Pidge being Team Keith and then realizing very quickly she made the wrong choice
      • Lance quickly notices that they’re not getting anywhere arguing about it so he relents (very much ‘fine, whatever, you lead voltron, have fun with that!’ and storms off).  Which, ironically, just further proves he’s better black paladin material
      • Keith becomes the Black Paladin, Lance the Red, Coran the Blue (they need Allura in the castle), Pidge and Hunk remain as they are
      • Keith leads and he’s not terrible at it he’s just not all that good and he doesn’t have time to learn and Lance has to do a lot of back seat leading because Keith just doesn’t understand their strengths and weaknesses, is trying to hard to channel Shiro and becoming a pretty big dick (Shiro’s in a different position, he was already their upperclassman, Keith is techinally meant to be on their level but acting like an upperclassman and it’s pissing everyone off), he’s no help in statergy meetings, and he runs off by himself in battle all the fucking time
        • Lance starts having to shout ‘switch’ during battles beause it’s a better system than arguing with Keith.  He goes off at the guy whenever he runs off.  He ends up having to explain Keith’s half baked ideas.  He’s basically the leader without the black lion and he is so sick of Keith’s shit.  Red is too and they bitch and moan about it together.  Black and Keith don’t talk.
      • And despite all this the only person to come around and think Lance should be their leader is Pidge, Allura is still very, very sure Lance is not a good idea
      • Until she actually she’s him in action.  For whatever reason Lance is forced to pose as Voltron’s representative/Leader on a planet and Allura expects it to go terrible but it doesn’t.  Lance is still flirty and ridiculous but he’s able to sit down and be serious.  Maybe Keith pissed someone off and Lance has to talk Keith’s way out of jail, maybe he’s trying to convince them to help despite the danger it puts the planet in
      • Whatever it is he succeeds and when he comes back they have a whole new talk about who the leaders going to be.  Lance is given the role and the first thing he asks is if Keith is truly fine with that.  Que Keith feeling guilty because he expected Lance to be an asshole about it but nope
      • Lance is still immature and insists on making Voltron bow after distressing things, tells Pidge they can finally make Voltron dab and other such stuff but he’s serious side is out more often and everything goes amazingly with Voltron
    • OR: Keith doesn’t speak up.  Maybe he doesn’t think Lance will be the best leader but he doesn’t want to be the leader.  Allura’s still not very sure about it, but Coran and Hunk (and maybe Pidge) all insist it’s a good idea and no one else steps up so Lance becomes the black paladin
      • Everything goes really well.  Again, Lance is immature and a flirt but when the situation calls for it he’s as good and mature a leader as Allura and Shiro
      • Allura apologizes for misjudging me and Lance jokes about her finally falling for his charms in just a matter of time and Allura gets pissed and Lance laughs only to admit that it means a lot she said that
      • He doesn’t find out Keith was meant to lead until they’re saving Shiro.  Lance walks in the black lion behind him (his armour now black) and Shiro can’t make out who it is at first he just says something along the lines of ‘keith, i knew you’d come for me’ with a grin and Lance frowns and steps closer and says ‘i’m not keith dude, can you see okay?’ and shiro finds and his first reaction is to ask if Keith is okay, why isn’t he the black paladin? and Lance is starting to get pissed because seriously shiro?  is it so unlucky to him that Lance could be a leader?  But he sucks it up and answers everything calmly because he has a fucking person to save
      • Shiro doesn’t even think to thank him in all that goes on and Lance just gets really, really bitter
      • like he knows he shouldn’t be and all but he’s upset.  He’s been running on fumes for weeks making sure everyone else is healthy, coming up with plans with Allura and their allies, making those allies, and just all the stress of causing all the shots and now this.  He still manages to collect himself and put on a brave face but he has a short fuse these days, he’s on edge, and everyone is on edge because of it
      • the tension doesn’t help either, they’ve saved shiro but now what?  it’s not like shiro can just slip back into the place he had, he needs time to heal and readjust and everyone else needs time to readjust like they planned to save shiro but they never really planned past that
      • Things with Shiro and Lance just get worse.  Shiro doesn’t know how to treat a Lance who no longer has a hero complex, who knows he’s earnt his place and has a right to speak up against Shiro.  Shiro finds it weird enough that Lance is sitting in on all the meetings they’re having, let alone that he’s an active part of those meetings unlike the others who may listen but don’t really interact (thinking the BoM style planning, Lance was clearly listening in and looking for faults in their plans only to find none while the others weren’t paying as much attention)
      • It also doesn’t help that he doesn’t see the awesome leader Lance was because normally Lance is so much more patient.  He hears Lance ask why Keith didn’t tell him about Shiro’s wish and Keith admits he didn’t want to lead and Lance gets mad because this isn’t school anymore.  Someone can’t be your replacement because you don’t want to do something.  They get into an argument but that’s more or less the way they commicate, so what Lance says gets through to Keith it’s just not how Shiro would do things 
      • And that’s what it comes down to, really.  The fact Lance leads in a different way to Shiro.  He never once tried to be shiro because he know it wouldn’t work.  He’s a great leader in his own right, it’s just that shiro has a hard time seeing anyone elses training styles as right.
      • They end up having a heart to heart in Black.  Lance was chilling in his pilot chair sort of just sighing and trying to get it out of his system and Shiro showed up to reconnect with his lion and he stumbles upon Lance and Black like just talking.  And Shiro doesn’t get it because it was never that easy with him but that’s because they’re different people with different needs.  Lance needs to talk, Shiro doesn’t.  
      • So Lance and Black talk in a way only pilot and paladin can.  Shiro clears his throat and Lance ends up telling him how he feels (like the crystal seen with coran).  He tells Shiro how he’s just… he knows he’s going to be kicked to the back on the group again because thats what happened last time and he just isn’t happy about it because he’s made his spot on the team and now it’s falling through his fingers.  He admits he’s made Shiro was surprised Lance was the leader, like Lance knew Shiro didn’t notice him but it still hurt.
      • And Shiro feels like shit and they work through their problems like adults
  • OR: Lance doesn’t step forward as leader.  They’re in their lions about to go into battle but Keith… Keith can’t enter Black.  The lion once more has his particle barrier up and he won’t let Keith in.  
    • Lance, because he’s in red and feels its better he sit out than Keith, flies over to see if he can help.  Keith’s still trying to push in and Lance makes a joke about needing to knock (like he did with Blue) and it fucking works.  
    • Maybe they don’t realize at first cause Keith was also pushing at the barrier but Keith steps forward and Black doesn’t lower his head.  Instead the cat basically rolls his eyes and moves to lower his head and let Lance in
    • Lance is hella shell shocked and just sort of… walks in.  Like, okay then I guess I’m your paladin now?  ‘no shit kid lets go’ says black as Lance sits in his pilots chair and it just sorta happens
    • he rejoins the fight and everyones like ‘you got it working!  good job’ and Lance is like ‘well actually’
    • Hunk, Coran, and/or Pidge could be like ‘called it’ or everything could just be really confusing and tense until Black rolls his eyes again and tells Lance to just focus already holy fuck dude war zone
    • Things go swimmingly
  • OR: Allura annouces it has to be the blue paladin, always.  The Blue Lion is the only one with a qunsitence that will match the black lion and therefore they don’t have a choice, lance is the leader
    • Lance is thrilled at first and then not everyone else is
    • Hunk and Coran are so proud, as are the mice
    • Again, 50/50 on if Pidge is okay with this or not.  
    • Keith is not, he complains that Lance is nothing like Shiro (Lance argues that neither is Zarkon) and gets really uffy about it
    • Allura attempts that she’s not happy about it either but there’s not really anything they can do so they’ll have to stuck it up and deal with it
    • Their balant dislike of Lance pushes him to not be so proud.  He knows if they’re going to work as a team they’ll need to all accept him as a leader so he starts pushing himself way to hard
    • he also tries to be more like shiro, which really doesn’t work out for him
    • he’s not sure Black will accept him at first but the lion does only he refuses to commicate with Lance properly.  
    • Lance pushes himself too far in training, barely gets any sleep, and constantly gets into fights with Keith and Allura because he’s just looking out for them but fuck off lance, just because you’re the black paladin doesn’t mean you can order us around
    • his insecurities just get worse
    • he starts getting wreckless, not as a leader but as a person
    • he takes every hit he can for the others, stops eating almost entirely, stops talking as much etc.
    • Coran and Hunk notice but they don’t know what to do (Hunk’s used to calling up an older sibling or Lance’s mama for this but he can’t right now) but Allura and Keith are blissfully unaware.
    • Until Lance ends up in the healing pods because he pushed himself too far and Allura and Keith get mad at him for it and Lance just doesn’t have the energy to fight.  He ends up telling them to search for a new black paladin then, if they’re so against him he will back down the moment they find someone.  Maybe they’ll actually give that person a chance to be a leader
    • He doesn’t say it rudely or like they could never find another, he just says it plainly and then Hunk leads him to get some food.
    • Que Allura and Keith feeling like shit and realizing they really haven’t given Lance a chance.  Allura reviews it and wow, Lance is actually great in battle as the black lion.  In fact the biggest fuck ups are from Keith refusing to listen.  Keith has a good long think-and-stare-at-my-blade session
    • They both decide they do need to give Lance a chance, Lance doens’t exactly trust them at first but they try and everyone finds it fits rather well.  Lance starts to relax more now that Allura and Keith aren’t jumping on his every flaw.  Allura starts listening to him.  Keith starts following his orders
    • And they’re happy
    • For all of 5 minutes
Five Times Ladybug Didn't Recognize Her Partner and One Time She Did

A sequel to Five Times Gabriel Agreste Didn’t Akumatize His Son and One Time He Did. I really wanted to leave it as it was, but I had to come back and give this a happier ending. And of course it ran away from me and got way longer than I meant it to.

I hope you enjoy!

“Is everything okay, kitty?”

Chat Noir looked over at her. “What?”

“You seem a little out of it.”

He shrugged. “No, just…” He sighed. “My dad’s not coming to something kind of…important to me.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean, I knew he wouldn’t, but… I guess I hoped things would be different now.”


“It’s nothing.”

By the way he looked at her, she knew she shouldn’t press. After all, there was only so much they could share without revealing their identities. “Well…” she gently patted his shoulder. “Maybe you can ask some friends to come instead.” She wished she could attend, but without knowing who he was, that would be impossible.

Sometimes, keeping their identities safe was difficult and even painful, but she knew it was better this way. Once they’d discussed it, he’d even agreed with her.

Still, as Marinette watched Adrien play at his recital, painfully aware of Gabriel Agreste’s absence, she couldn’t help but wonder if someone had gone to Chat Noir’s event to support him the way she, Nino, and Alya had attended Adrien’s recital. She hoped so.

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Astra inclinant, sed non obligant

A short sci-fi story written for @caffeinewitchcraft’s Caffeine Challenge #12. My brain took the prompts and veered off a bit, but this was fun to write! The title means “The stars incline us, but do not bind us.”

I was born on the Saratoga, a class 2 transport running supplies between the consolidated colonies of the outer ring planets. It’s down in the records as the middle day of seven in a Night cycle as we drifted between suns, all lights on emergency use only until we could make it in range of the next system to recharge the auxiliary batteries. Mom always said that Night stretched so long because I was hoarding all the light for myself, so I could burst to life as five pounds six ounces of screaming starfire. She said she knew I’d be fine out here in the black, that she knew I could make my life here and be happy without a sun and a planet because even from that very first moment she could see the light in my eyes; a true spacer, whose inner fire keeps them warm even in the darkest times.

I never had the heart to tell her she was wrong.

My defection started like this: I was seven sol-years old and setting foot on a planet for the first time. Gravity dragged at me. My feet and hands felt heavy, my head hurt. The floor seemed to roll out in front of me, curving and bucking when I tried to walk. I fell more than a few times, and my mother tried to get me to go back to the shuttle, but I refused. Everyone else in my class had been planetside, even Monica and Neil, both two years younger than me, and I was determined to have my turn.

One of the station attendants gave me a pair of crutches and I gritted my teeth and kept going, one shaky step at a time, until I was through the doors and really, really in-atmosphere for the first time in my life.

The heat of the sun felt like a caress over my hair. The breeze tugging at my shipsuit was a revelation. There were sounds I’d never heard before, smells I’d never dreamt of, more colors than I’d ever thought possible. Actual living animals flew above me. Vibrant green plants pushed between cracks in the stone path, utterly unplanned-for.

It was too much. I cried. I screamed. I curled in a ball on the ground—real, solid ground!–and bawled my tiny heart out while the sun beat on my neck, and I refused to move no matter how my shipmates coaxed and pulled and scolded. Mom always said after it was some kind of sign, that it was proof I knew I belonged in space, even that young. The rest of the adults laughed about it for years. They’d muss my hair affectionately whenever it came up at a party, or a holiday, or a community hearing, or a graduation ceremony, and say things like That’s our Astra, and A born shiprat, you are.

I wasn’t allowed off-ship again for a decade.

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Mr. Andrews - Riverdale Imagine

Archie x Reader

A/N:  my first once upon a time imagine is coming up next

Requested by: @pissheadofficial
“Prompts 30,32,39,97 with Archie Andrews please?”

30. “You’re probably the hottest stranger i’ve ever seen.”
32. “My clothes look good on you.”
39. “Those short’s look really good on you.”
97. “Take off your shirt.”

Warnings: none

Word Count:



The first day at a new school is always nerve-wracking, no matter how many “first days” you have. Personally, I’ve had plenty. My family bounced around a lot, never staying in one place too long. There wasn’t a particular reason, really, my parents just wanted to see as much of the world as they could. I did too, until I started high school. Now I just want to settle down and finish school- in one school- and stop being “the new girl” every year.

My parents understood where I was coming from- why I wanted to finish high school in one place. So we made a deal. I would spend my freshman year in California- which is the last place we’d lived in- and then my parents would pick a place for us to settle down for a while so I could finish school. The catch? Because I got to choose where I spent my freshman year, they got to pick where we lived for the next three. Unfortunately for me, that place was Riverdale.

The town seems cute enough, but it’s so quaint compared to what I’m used to. I love the big cities, with bright lights and noisy cars. In Riverdale, the brightest light you’ll find is the neon sign outside “Pop’s Chock-Lit Diner,” whatever that is.

It was the first day of school. I was a stressed mess, desperate to get through the day. After struggling for a full five minutes to open my locker, I put my bag away and wandered around until I found the main office. I met the principal, who seems like a nice enough guy, and he volunteered to escort me to class. My first instinct was to politely turn him down, but I knew that I’d never find this classroom on my own.

He leads me down a few hallways until we reach a room- the chemistry lab- already full of people listening intently to the teacher. The principal clears his throat, causing every head in the room to turn around and face us. My eyes scan around the room, glancing over all of the faces of my new peers. My gaze settles on a particular red-haired boy, wearing a bright blue varsity jacket. When he meets my eyes, my stomach flutters, and I look away. The principal introduces me, and tells the teacher I’ll be in this class from now on. When he leaves, the teacher has me stand in front of the room to tell the class about myself. Nothing I haven’t done a thousand times before.

“My name is Y/N  Y/L/N and I moved here from Cali. I’ve lived in 36 of the 50 states, and my family plans on staying here until I graduate,” I say.

“Cali?” a boy asks, sitting in between a blonde haired girl and a raven haired girl.

“California,” I reply with a smile.

“I know what it’s short for,” he says, rolling his eyes and laughing. “But how do you end up going from California to our small town of Riverdale?”

“I didn’t pick this place,” I say, and I find myself looking again at the red haired boy. “My parents did. We haven’t lived in this state yet, so… here we are.” I trail off, and an awkward silence fills the room.

“Well then, Ms. Y/L/N, why don’t you take a seat next to Mr. Andrews,” the teacher instructs me. He points the the boy I was looking at earlier, and I beg myself not to blush.

I walk over put my books on the table, sitting down next to him. Once the teacher turns back around and continues talking, he turns to me and says, “36, huh?”

I laugh. “Yep, a whopping 36.”

“Which was your favorite?” he asks me smiling.

“Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’d probably have to say either California or Louisiana.”

He laughs. “Louisiana?”

I feel myself start to blush. “They have the best food,” I tell him. “And Mardi Gras is incredible.”

“Good to know,” he replies. “My name is Archie, by the way.”

“I’ve gotta tell you, Archie,” I start. *** “You’re probably the hottest stranger I’ve ever seen.” ***

He laughs at that- a real, hearty laugh- and I find myself laughing too. “I’m hardly a stranger,” he says when he’s finished laughing. “We’ve known each other for a full seven minutes now.”

Before I can respond, a girl with long red hair sitting in front of me turns around, and says, “Y/N, is it?”

“Yes,” I tell her slowly.

“I’m Cheryl,” she introduces with an obviously fake smile. “You missed cheerleading tryouts, but I have a feeling you’d look good in a River Vixen uniform. What do you say?”

Before I can convince myself to look for a way out of this situation, I nod say, “Yeah, sure.”

“Great,” she says, turning back around.

Archie laughs. “You’re a cheerleader?”

“Definitely not,” I tell him. “But she doesn’t know that.”


That night, after a grueling cheerleading practice, I’m heading to the girl’s locker room when the football team comes in. As many of the girls stop to chat, I spot a familiar face in the sea of boys. “Archie!” I call.

When he finds me, he grins and walks over, bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey,” he smiles. “How was practice?”

“Let’s just say I’m going to be very sore tomorrow,” I say, and he laughs. “How about you? Was football practice as disgusting as I imagine it to be?”

“I don’t know,why don’t you tell me?” he says, stepping toward me in his dirty, smelly practice jersey.

“No thanks!” I squeal, taking a step back. “I prefer to admire from afar.”

He just laughs and shakes his head. “Cheryl was right,” he says, referring to the brief conversation I’d had with the red-haired girl earlier that day. *** “Those shorts look really good on you,” *** he tells me.

I feel myself blush. “Why thank you,” I say, smiling at the ground. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge person crashes into me, spilling some type of red energy juice all over me. I gasp as the cold liquid soaks through my shirt.

“Oh, um, I’m really sorry,” some kid says, hardly containing his laughter.

I just sigh, looking down at my shirt and hoping that somehow the stain will come out. The next thing I know, Archie is grabbing my hand and leading me towards a bathroom, where he drags me in after him and closes the door.

“What are you-”

*** “Take off your shirt.” ***

“What?” I practically squeal.

“No, not like that,” he corrects himself, digging around in his bag. He pulls out a blue football jersey and offers it to me. “I just meant put this on instead, so you’re not covered in juice,” he says smiling.

I roll my eyes and laugh at him. I gratefully take the shirt from him, and hold it between my legs as I peel off my sticky shirt. I notice his eyes get slightly wider at the sight of me in my bra before he looks away. I have to suppress my giggles.

I slide the much-too-big shirt over my head, and smile at him. “Well?” I ask. “How do I look?” The shirt is longer than my shorts, making them practically invisible.

“Um, good, I- I mean it looks- I-” he just stops talking and I can’t help but laugh at him. *** “My clothes look good on you,” *** he finishes.

“Thanks, Andrews,” I say with a grin.

Maybe living in Riverdale won’t be so bad after all.

Difference between a jinx, hex and curse

I felt like people searching my tags would need a little clarification on the difference between a jinx, hex and curse (according to me).

A jinx is a form of malevolent magic where the subject gets bad luck, minor misfortunes. It’s simple, nasty, but isn’t meant to seriously harm someone. Usually only lasts a little while.

A hex is a form of malevolent magic, more powerful than a jinx. Lasts longer, and is usually “broken” when the subject learns their lesson.

A curse is the most powerful, and if done well it can last a lifetime or even longer. Can be cast on a person or family, and can last forever or until something is done to atone for whatever caused then to be cursed.

Tongue Tied

Prompt: Damian has a crush on the reader, but every time he tried to tell her how he feels he gets embarrassed and messes up. Sooo I got a little carried away with this one. I intended it to be short, I swear. >> Damian is probably around 17/18 in this. Hope you like it! ^^ __________________________________________

It was turning out to be a relatively uneventfully day all around. Not that anyone was complaining, patrol had taken a turn south last night and they’d all come home a little roughed up and dead tired, three hours later than planned. None of them were strangers to sleep deprivation, but as nothing was going on anyway the boys had decided to retreat to the den to watch movies for the day. It was Tim’s choice today, which meant that they were making their way through the original star wars movies when you popped your head around the door.
Damian was relieved, quite frankly. Tim’s taste in movies very rarely agreed with him, and he’d been struggling to pay attention for awhile now. The only reason he was still awake was that Tim kept nudging him and attempting to explain parts of the movie to him, and even though he was whispering, Tim Drake would not be ignored when he was on one of his ‘geek rants’.
“Pssssssst,” you whispered, waving at Damian, even though his attention had been on you since you’d appeared. Jason grunted. “You can talk out loud youknow. Nobody’s actually watching this,” “Hey!” Tim shot him a wounded glance, to which Jason just shrugged. Damian raised an eyebrow, motioning for you to continue. “Okay, so. I was down in the batcave, and you know how Bruce wants us all to be well rounded fighters or whatever?” Damian nodded. “Yeah, so I decided I was gonna practice my swordsmanship, and Bruce was down there working on a case or whatever, and well, he says I suck.” You made a face, and Damian snorted in amusement. Trust Bruce to be blunt about these things. Dick chuckled from his position in the armchair, clearly listening in, and you threw him a wounded look.
Thing is, you’d been with Bruce for longer than Damian had, arriving only a little after Tim. And you were still terrible with most weapons. Also, Damian was completely head over heels for you, but that was irrelevant. It just meant that his stomach did an embarrassing little flip at your next words. “Bruce said I should ask you to help me Dami. So um, if you’re free this evening…?” You threw him a pleading look from under your lashes.
Damian, in fact, wasn’t free this evening. He had landed wrong on his ankle last night and twisted it, Alfred had warned him to stay off his feet for the day if he intended on going on patrol tonight. One look at your face though, and that suddenly became completely inconsequential. He nodded. “Of course. Father’s right, a weakness like that could prove fatal on the battlefield.” He was trying for nonchalance, but his voice was gruff. You beamed at him, bouncing over to press a quick kiss against his cheek. “Thanks Dami! I’ll go tell Bruce,” You cheered, already halfway out the door.
Damian’s expression was stoic, except for the uncontrollable blush spreading across his cheekbones. Damn it. Jason gave a low whistle. “Maaaan, you are whipped,” Dick nodded knowingly, and Tim hummed in agreement. Damian gave him a nudge with his foot. It was Tim’s own fault for sitting at his feet. He chose not to acknowledge Jason. It was an old argument, one that always lead to the youngest being incredibly embarrassed. The best defense against this particular topic was to stay silent. His brothers were having none of it, however. “Just tell her,” Dick urged, leaning forward in his seat to look Damian in the eye. “She obviously likes you too. Even Bruce can see it, he’s clearly trying to win you some alone time,“ Damian shrugged. “You cannot be sure of that,” But despite himself he felt something leap in his chest at the prospect. He struggled to push the hope back down. He was the son of the world’s greatest detective, he would have noticed if you liked him in that way. Maybe it was true that you were closer to him than you were the others, but that was just coincidence, he was sure. You simply understood each other, nothing more. Dick saw the momentary flicker of uncertainty on Damian’s face. At last he was getting through that thick skull of his. His next words to his baby brother were casual as he turned back to the movie. “You’ll never know for sure unless you tell her how you feel little wing,” Damian huffed, not dignifying that with a reply. He tried to ignore the sense of truth to what Dick had just said.

To his credit, over the next few days Damian did try. He made the decision that evening during their training session. He had to admit that Bruce was right about your sword skills. If it came to you needing to use one in the field you would effectively be useless. He kind of hated himself for finding that fact almost endearing. But standing behind you, adjusting your grip and stance with careful touches that sent little jolts of electricity through his veins, he realised that this had gone too far for him to be able to ignore it any longer. And when you grinned up at him, he knew it would be worth it. 

 His first attempt was during patrol. Bruce had cleared him to go out despite his ankle, partially because it had healed somewhat since the night before but mostly because arguing with Damian was unnecessarily exhausting, and Bruce was tired enough as it was. It was a thankfully quiet night, and you were seated on the edge of an apartment building rooftop when Damian came over to sit beside you. “Sup Robin?” You greeted easily, swinging your legs over the ledge. “Songbird,” He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, you noted with surprise. “I -” He paused, cleared his throat. “Would you like to see a movie with me?” His face was flushed, and you frowned. Was he not feeling well? You often cuddled up and watched movies together when one of you was under the weather. Well, you cuddled, Damian allowed you to. “Sure, how about in the morning? We can do the whole blankets and popcorn thing. You should probably get some sleep tonight though, you don’t look so great,” You studied him, concerned. He simply nodded at your words, and you swore his face got a little redder. Next thing you knew he was gone, jumping between the buildings with a dexterity you could only admire.

 As it turned out, Damian was not good at this. Which was surprising, to say the least. Words had always been his strong suit, not to mention his father was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. Regardless of this, whenever he tried to ask you out he turned into a fumbling idiot, mixing up his words and turning tomato red from the neck up. It was absolutely humiliating. He tried to tell you how he felt several times during the next few days. Each time was even more of a disaster than the last. For your part, you found Damian’s sudden inarticulacy around you to be undeniably adorable, but confusing as hell. His newfound tendency to freeze up around you and honest-to-god blush didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the family either. You felt you were being left out of some inside joke when Jason or Tim would snigger at something Damian had said or done. It was perplexing, to say the least. Especially when one morning you walked into the kitchen for breakfast to find Damian seated at the table, pen in hand and frowning down at a piece of writing paper. He didn’t seem to notice your entrance, and curiously you came up behind him and hooked your chin over his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” “Nothing!” His head jerked up and he snatched up the piece of paper, scrunching it into a ball in his fist. You raised an eyebrow, backing off. “Ohhkay then,”

 As soon as you had left, Damian slammed his head down onto the tabletop. Earlier that morning Alfred had taken pity on his sorry state and suggested that Damian write you a letter instead, seeing as telling you in person wasn’t working out. Damian had scoffed at the idea initially; letters were a cowards way out. Damian was going to be a man about this. Alfred had brought him around to the idea eventually though, hedging that perhaps such means of expressing oneself were for a more refined class only. It had been going well until you had caught him. He was starting to think he was doomed. 

 You had taken to practicing your swordsmanship every day now, and with Damian’s help you were slowly but surely improving. The more competent you became the less of a chore training felt, and to your surprise that night you found you were actually having fun. Damian was his usual confident self with a sword in hand, and now that he was satisfied that your drills were somewhat passable you had taken to sparring. Damian of course always won, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, not when he seemed to enjoy it so much. You made what you thought was a decent pass with your sword, confident that this time you would disarm him. Instead, Damian easily sidestepped, dodging your blow and lunging forward, knocking your sword from your grasp. The force of the blow unsteadied you and you overbalanced, huffing out a surprised gasp as you hurtled for the floor. At the last second Damian reached out and grabbed your arm, halting your fall. He grinned down at you smugly, and you were suddenly acutely aware of what a mess you were.

 Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail and sticking to your face, as was your shirt. You were out of breath and flushed, while Damian stood there in all his perfection, completely unaffected as he smirked at you. That, you decided, was not okay. Quick, too fast for him to stop you, you kicked out a leg, aiming for his knees. The strike connected and you savoured your partner’s shout of surprise as his legs went out from under him and you both tumbled to the floor. A second later you were both laughing, your limbs tangled awkwardly together. You weren’t quite sure how it happened, but suddenly you became acutely aware of Damian’s closeness, strong arms braced on either side of your head to keep himself from crushing you. His face was mere inches from yours, and when your eyes connected you felt a blush spread across your cheeks that had nothing to do with exertion.

 The next thing you knew, Damian was leaning in, and your lips were pressed together and he was kissing you. Time seemed to stand still for an instant, and then you were kissing him back forcefully, freeing your hands from beneath his body to tangle them in his hair. When you eventually parted, you were both out of breath, and the way Damian was looking at you made your heart stutter. And then he was grinning at you, and you were grinning back, and he leaned in again to steal a chaste kiss. “Would you like to go out with me?” His words were whispered against your lips, and your response was to pull his mouth to yours again heatedly. When you parted this time, there was no hesitation. “I would like that very much,” “Good,” He smirked.

apparently rough-sketching scenes from disney aus is my ~thing now, so here’s a snapshot of cinderella, based on the 2015 movie. maybe this will become a series, who knows!

(with proper capitalization for reading ease bc this got wayyy longer than i meant for it to, whoops)

The first time Isak meets the prince, he doesn’t know he’s meeting the prince.

This is probably for the better, seeing as he doesn’t so much meet the prince as nearly run the prince down with his horse. Which is mostly Isak’s fault, since he isn’t watching where he is riding as well as he should be, but there are—reasons, if he were pressed to give them. The morning had been crueler than usual and the ride to the market had been an all-too-appealing promise of escape, even just temporarily. And so Isak had left the breakfast dishes still dripping dry and bolted as fast as he was able, gratefully giving his thoughts and tears to the wind and trusting the horse to guide them both clear.

Maybe not the safest plan, but it has worked fairly well, up until he almost runs into another rider. It happens so quickly—a startled shout, the high cry of another horse, a blur of color suddenly veering to his left—that Isak has little time to do anything but shout “Sorry!” over his shoulder and hope the wind carries it back. He thinks that will be it, until he registers a voice calling behind him, and then a second rhythm of hoofbeats pounding into the forest floor and catching him up.

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Soulmates? // Newt Scamander x Reader

Hey guys! Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, haven’t really had much motivation these days, but I hope you enjoy this one! 💛🖤💛🖤


Request: Hello! Could I please request a Newt x reader? I had this idea of a soulmate AU where you and your soulmate share a kind of birth mark on your arms? Could the reader also be Tina and Queenie’s sister? Thank you <3 <3
*Warnings: None


You opened your eyes slowly, glaring slightly at the sun shining through an open window. The reason you did this is because you weren’t the one who had opened the window, for this exact reason, so you gave a small sigh when the light airy voice of your sister could be heard.
“You need to wake up Y/N, I made a lovely breakfast for you before you leave for work, although Tina already left.. luckily I managed to get her to eat something before leaving.” Queenie said with a small giggle which only made you grin and sit up.
“Alright I’ll come eat, just let me wake up a bit more.” You answered, your voice a bit scratchy from waking up. Your hair felt like it was a mess and a yawn left you mouth. While sitting, you leaned back one more time to stretch, your body trying to convince you to lay back down. However your mind told you otherwise so you slowly got to your feet. You brushed off the silk slip you slept in and threw on a robe before heading out to eat.
“There you are, I figured that I’d have to go wake you up one more time.” Queenie laughed while fixing you a plate, as you sat down, she leaned to give you it, your eye going to the birthmark on her arm. Then your thoughts when to your own birthmark. Yours looked slightly like a strange animal, or at least the silhouette of a creature, which you didn’t mind, made for an interesting thought of who you were to be matched with. It made you think of how lovely it would be to finally meet who you’re meant to be with. Your older sister looked up after noticing your thoughts and smiled at you.
“Be patient silly, you’ll meet them some day, after all I think I should be the worried one, I’ve been waiting even longer than you.” She grinned while giving a soft chuckle, which only made you smile as well.
“You’re right.. but either way whoever is matched with you is very lucky, I don’t know what I’ll do without you here one day!” You took a bite of food after speaking, closing your eyes to savor the flavor. Your mind however started to think of what you would do if she weren’t here before shaking your head slightly and smiling at her once more.
“Well Queenie, I have to say this was a very delicious breakfast, and a wonderful start to my day, but I have to get ready if I’m going to make it to work on time. You worked in the magical creatures section at MACUSA. The main reason you choose that section was because you always had an interest in the animals, and the fact that your birthmark looked similar to one just sealed the deal. So after hurrying to get ready and kissing your sister’s cheek goodbye, you set off to work.
“Good morning Y/N” a deeper voice called and you waved when you saw that it was your boss.
“Good morning, how have you been sir?” You asked politely, smiling as you awaited his answer.
“Ah I have been alright, and you?” You replied in a similar way before you both parted ways. Finally reaching your desk, you started getting settled when all of the sudden your sister dragged came running over dragging a man behind her.
“Tina? Who’s this?” You questioned, raising a brow towards her as you studied the man. He was wearing a blue trench coat and rather nice clothes. His face was a home to hundreds of freckles and his eyes which were opened wide in surprise were a type of ocean blue, which contrasted with the light auburn bangs resting on his forehead.
“This Y/N is Newt Scamander, who is in violation to a law about revealing magic to no-majs, he let some of his magical creatures out.” She hissed in a quiet voice.
“I see.. are they alright? I’d hate for a creature to be lost in such a big city.” You questioned, thinking of what you should do.
“Well uh.. I was planning to go looking for them.. until she brought me here..” the man who was supposedly Newt replied.
“I’m sorry if my sister startled you by dragging you here Mr. Scamander, I’m sure we can sort this out easily..” you reached over to grab a few papers, your sleeve rolling up enough to see your birthmark, and all of the sudden Newt froze in place, his eyes locked on the birthmark. You noticed and only glanced at him with a confused look in your eyes.
“Is there something wrong Mr. Scamander?” You questioned, worried he may be going through some type of spasm or something.
“A-ah.. your.. your birthmark.. I-it.. it’s like mine..” he whispered out, his face a bright red. At his words Tina glared, almost mad at him saying he was supposedly your soulmate and she yanked up his sleeve and gave a small gasp at the mark that was found. It was identical to yours, and your face slowly became more and more flushed as your heart started beating and your stomach twisted.
“I see.. well I suppose that means we will be seeing each other a lot more than originally expected.. how about dinner tonight at my place? After this whole mess is sorted out of course.” You replied, your face still a bright red. Tina was standing there still glaring at Newt, most likely assuring him that if he did anything wrong that she’d be the one to act.
“I’d uh.. I’d really enjoy that..” he answered, his voice rather high now that he was flustered.
The answer made you smile and you nodded before looking back down and trying to find the correct paperwork. This day really did turn out so much better than you first expected.

Winter Stole Summer’s Thrill- An Elucien Fic

Prompt fill for anonymous from the angst thing I reblogged the other day. Longer than anticipated (*sobs into my hands because i’m HOPELESS*) so it’s getting Formatted. As per, unplanned, unedited..have at it. 

Title: Winter Stole Summer’s Thrill 

Summary: prompt: “Remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it.” Pain to follow. Elain’s POV. 

Teaser: ‘She was going to hold him to that promise he had made to her, those words he had whispered the night before he had left. They had lain in bed together, naked, spent, their arms around one another, their chests heaving in time as they panted for breath, and he had whispered those words to her. “We will always be together, Elain. Always.” 

She had fallen asleep with those words warming her heart. She had let him walk onto that battlefield with them ringing in her ears. They were the last words he had ever spoken to her and by the Mother and the Cauldron and whatever other forgotten gods stalk the heavens and play with the lives of men and fae alike, she will hold him to them.’ 

Link: AO3 

His hand is cold in hers. The room is quiet, unusually so. Even when they had lain together here in the mornings there had always been the soft sounds of birds singing outside, the breeze wafting through the trees, the servants padding quietly up and down the halls. 

The silence now seems an omen. The windows have all been shut up tight, keeping the room as warm as possible. The birds and the breeze are exiled from this place of cold death and dark shadows. They belong to the world beyond, full of life and colour and hope, not here in this place. Elain has the urge to run to the windows, to throw them open, let the sun and the sounds of this place fill the room, lift her out of the dead feeling that’s sunk its claws into her heart. 

She doesn’t though, can’t bring herself to leave his side. The servants have all been sent away. There is only her and him, a few others who come and go. But this manor is big and they are far away, their footsteps and voices not managing to echo this far through the empty corridors to break up the quiet. 

When she speaks, her voice sounds too loud, intrusive and imposing, like a sudden rumble of thunder on a warm spring day. “Remember,” she whispers to him, “Remember when you promised me that we’d always be together?” A single tear slips down her cheek. The taste of salt is like an explosion on her tongue, ripping her from the bland, empty oasis she’s been stranded in since it happened. 

Another tear but she brushes this one away with her free hand. She shouldn’t cry in front of him, that would upset him. What would he think if he woke and found her cry at his side? She has to be strong for him. She will be strong for him. 

But she can’t help the words that fall from her lips, spilling out of her along with a fresh wave of tears she can’t hold back no matter how hard she tries. “Because I remember when I thought you meant it, when I was sure that nothing could ever take you from me; or me from you.” They’re the words of a child, that human girl she had been so long ago that’s been broken by the things that she’s seen, the things she’s endured, the things that she’s done. 

The next words are a plea, desperate and shattered, “My mate, my mate, my mate…”

They had sealed the bond two years ago. In the middle of a war but neither of them had cared about that. It was right. It was real. She had found him again on a battlefield, on two different sides of this war. She should never have been there, but they had needed everyone to fight they could and she had refused to sit safely at home alone while everyone else went out to do what they could. 

She had regretted it from the first charge. The blood. The chaos. The death. She had never been able to stand the sight of blood or gore. Even after years of living with it, the sight of Feyre cleaning and dressing a kill in their kitchen had made her feel sick. This had been a hundred times worse than that. People screaming and crying and dying and killing all around her, and she caught in the thick of it, like a doe with a shattered leg in the eye of a storm. 

Then he had been there. A blade in either hand. His red hair flying around him like fire. Fire itself bursting from him, for the first time in centuries, to protect her, his mate. They had looked at each other, standing a foot apart, both armed, both spattered in blood and filth and gore, wearing different colours. He in green and gold and she in black and red. 

They had both known what should follow. They had both know that honour, duty, loyalty, love to all those they followed, demanded their next actions. They were to take up arms against one another, fight, hurt, kill. This male…This male had helped drown her and Nesta in that Cauldron, had held Feyre under while Tamlin drowned her in his own selfish trauma after what they’d endured. He was on the other side. He had chosen. She had chosen. She owed him nothing. She didn’t know him, didn’t care about him, didn’t feel anything for him but…

But she had met those mismatched eyes, full of all the pain and terror and sadness she’s come to know so intimately, and she hadn’t been able to do it. Their swords had faltered at the same time, their power dulling, a hurricane turned to a quiet shower of rain in the face of this one they could not hurt. She had taken his arm, had begged him to do something, to rally his forces. They would listen to him, they would follow him, he could end this, end it all. 

He had. They had. 

At least that day, that one battle, they had managed to stop. She had brought him before Feyre and Rhys and he had spoken for Spring, had told them he wanted this pointless slaughter to end. The men they had saved that day had simply died the next but for that moment…She had seen something in his eyes. She had seen a hatred for this battle and bloodshed that everyone else seemed to accept as inevitable and right. She had seen a desire for peace, for true peace, what she longed for more than anything. She had seen hope. And she had never looked back. 

Still they fight. The first War had raged for seven year, she had been told. This one has lasted five already and everyone involved believes it might easily double that. More and more peoples from across the sea are getting pulled into this, taking sides, summoning armies, dragging this on and on and on, filling the world with death and pain and screams. 

Already she has worn so many faces in this game of chance they play with people’s lives, where the roll of dice sends them to fight, to kill, to die. She’s been a victim; fresh from the Cauldron, in shock, in pain, with nothing left but her skin and her sisters.

 A hope. Her powers could change this war, could give them an edge, but she doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t want to hurt, doesn’t want to kill, just wants to hide. 

A  soldier. Despite her feeble protests she had still been trained to fight - just so you can protect yourself- they had told her, but she knew, even then, that protecting herself would come at the cost of harming others and she had hated every second of it.

 A spy. She was his mate, ready made, she could get close, could make him trust her, he would never hurt her, never, never, never.

 A traitor. They knew he wouldn’t hurt her, knew he wouldn’t hurt them, not while they held her. They had never suspected she might turn on them, that her love for a stranger might be more than her lust for war and deceit. They had never suspected that might not be able to hurt him, either. 

A High Lady. The power came to her when Tamlin had fallen and Lucien had smiled and sworn his blade to Spring once more. To her. She had allied them again with Night, with her fierce sisters who found ways to thrive in this war while she felt sometimes she was barely surviving it. She and Lucien had fought and strived, turned former enemies to allies; turned former friends to dust and ash. 

But now…

A widow. 

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Something wretched about this (so precious about this)

For anyone that missed it on AO3, here is the Klaroline Valentine one shot I wrote for @thetourguidebarbie. Includes Succubus!Caroline. Title from From Eden by Hozier.

Caroline despised being indebted to anyone.

              Being in such debt to a vampire of all creatures was even worse.

              For millennia, the vampires had been a bane to Caroline’s kind.  They became addicted to the touch and taste of a Succubus so easily, and it typically resulted in a shortened lifespan for the succubus in question.

              But Katherine Pierce had once saved Caroline’s life, and so was – begrudgingly – owed a boon.

              “Distraction.” She ran a finger around the edge of her cup.  It was a latte – a rather delicious latte – but the taste was marred by the fact that she was there with a creature that could choose to go for her throat at any moment.  “That’s all?”

              “That’s all?” Katherine raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.  “Well, I could try and make it more complicated… but I figured that being a distraction to Klaus Mikaelson would be difficult enough.”

              “Is Klaus Mikaelson supposed to mean something to me?”  Caroline took a sip of her latte, watching Katherine over the edge.

              Katherine eyed her in return, a slow smile that Caroline knew better than to trust curving her lips, but… this would get rid of the damn favor.

              “He doesn’t need to mean a thing.  So you’ll help me?”

              “Tell me what you know.”

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anonymous asked:

consider: the foxes take on a HoH recruit a couple years post canon. they have hearing aids and are oral, but the aids they have aren't that good because their parents couldn't/wouldn't pay for better, and sometimes they cut out. neil starts learning asl to be able to translate for/communicate with them at those times bc at this point it's pretty easy for him to pick up, and it's a new challenge (1/2)

(2/2) (the rest of the team tries too ofc because they don’t want this kid to be stuck in the dark and renee and dan are pretty good, but it’s not as easy for most of them, they didn’t have to grow up learning foreign languages just to survive). andrew mostly learns from proximity to neil, watching him practice and learning from context, and they discover it’s useful for them as well in the ways you were talking about in your first post -minyardjostenrivalry

oh man oh man oh man I love this you have no idea (also this got little longer than I originally meant it to be wowza)

  • so I’m making said recruit a dealer idk just roll with me on this
  • when they play they’re always usually in the middle(ish) of the court
  • kind of in the thick of it
  • even with hearing aids that work great it’s hard to keep up when there is a lot going on around you
  • and neil is oblivious to a lot of things but not exy
  • he notices and realizes all the other times he’s seen said recruit kind of lost in conversations/big groups
  • he doesn’t make a comment on it bc why point out the kid’s struggles?
  • he just immediately goes back to Fox Tower after that game/practice and starts learning asl basics 
  • andrew sees and watches but doesn’t say anything about it
  • after a few nights it peaks his interest enough to ask
  • neil explains and andrew decides to learn 
  • he doesn’t tell neil or anyone really
  • mostly he starts learning in case it becomes useful/necessary down the line
  • spoiler alert: it does
  • anyway neil learns a lot very quickly, especially one handed signs he can use quickly while holding his raquet on court 
  • this works great and kinda catches on with the foxes
  • most of them know at least numbers up to 30 in asl, so they can reference players 
  • no one can quite pick up languages like neil can though, so he’s the go to if the recruit needs something interpreted 
  • mostly though the recruit can get by on their own but they really appreciate all the foxes trying to accommodate them
  • also i think it would be hilarious if when asl became another andreil™ thing if the foxes (nicky) would constantly ask the recruit what the two were saying
  • recruit is loyal to their new bro™ neil though
  • no snitching even though they may be a little bit traumatized after witnessing some questionable conversations
  • also i would like you all to consider neil and this new recruit shit talking people in asl right in front of them 
  • imagine them both on press duty together
  • josten part 2: the sass you love this time with considerable less angst
Mystic Messenger Analysis: Mint Eye and the RFA.



Currently, I am working on a timeline for Mystic Messenger as I try to organize chronologically what happens in the game. However, as I was doing this, I noticed something very important concerning the dates when Mint Eye and the RFA were founded. 

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You Saved Me - Part 2

Original request from @fandom-rpblog:  Hey can I make a request? Can you write one in where after the events of winter soldier, (ignoring civil war as I haven’t seen it yet), Bucky has been re-introduced to the world and is recovering slowly and he and reader are sort of a thing as she was the one who found him after the events of winter soldier and she find out she is pregnant and fluff, and stuff. Please.

Note: So by the time I got halfway through this part I decided to go a whole other route in the story so I think it is fair to say that this is now going to be full of a lot of angst but fluff too! <3 I will still be including everything from the request so I hope the wonderful follower who asked for it enoys this part as well.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2,347

Warnings: Violence, language, and angst.

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3


“Why did you put yourself in danger to help me back there?”

You had only just walked back into your apartment when he voiced the question so your breathlessness from the previous events was still very much apparent as you collapsed face down onto your sofa.

“I don’t even know your name and yet you almost got shot by those cops.”

An exhausted groan escaped you, muffled by the soft cushions your face was currently buried in, how was this guy not even breaking a damn sweat? Rather reluctantly you shifted your head so that you could now see him but your body didn’t move another inch.

“My name is [y/n] and I could ask you the same thing you know. You don’t know me and yet you put yourself between me and those bullets when you could have just left me there.”

“The difference is that you are an innocent civilian. I am not. I am a monster, have been for decades.”

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Sherlock Valentine’s Day Challenge Day #1

Originally posted by dangbenedict

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Prompt: “You shouldn’t have to spend valentines day alone” (prompt #1) (prompt in bold)

Side notes: I promise I will get part 2 done of the previous fic. it should be up in 2-3 weeks.

Lets go!!

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t have to spend valentines day alone.”

“Why? Who can I spend it with? What with you going on a date, and Sherlock going on a case, there’s only Mrs Hudson, and I think she’s going out anyway.”

You and your flatmates, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson, were sat in the cosy apartment OF 221B Baker Street, Discussing plans for today, which was Valentine’s day. It was currently 6 a.m, which was your normal wake up time.

“Actually, the case was cancelled. Lestrade caught a man running from the crime scene, and he eventually confessed to the murder, so my night’s free.” Sherlock interjected.

By this point you had distanced yourself, staring at your coffee but not really seeing it. You both wanted to spend valentines day with Sherlock, and you didn’t. This was because you wanted nothing more than a romantic relationship with him, but why would he love you? He considered himself married to his work anyway. It was hopeless.

“There you go, Y/N. Problem solved!” He gave you a wink, to which you gave him a death stare. Ooh, if looks could kill. (John knew how you felt about Sherlock, and he teased you about it when he could.) ”Well I’m going out, I need to get flowers and whatever. There’s a chance I wont be back tonight, so don’t wait up.”

It was about seven p.m. You sighed and switched off Doctor Who, and padded out of your room to grab something quick for tea.

As you headed towards the kitchen, you felt a strong hand grasp your wrist.

“I know how you feel about me.” Sherlock purred.

“How long ago did you deduce it?” You replied in a monotone, to try and mask the panic in your voice. You didn’t dare turn and face him.

“Longer than you’d like to know.”

Sherlock stepped around  and faced you, not letting go of your wrist. Instead, he placed his free hand on your cheek, and tilted your head so that you had no choice but to look into his pale blue eyes.

“Why do you think that I wont feel the same, Y/N? I want to know, because there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Um, well, because you’re,um, you, and I’m ,well, me. You’re not meant to fall in love, you even said so yourself. And if you didn’t fall in love with The woman who, by the way, is a bloody supermodel compared to me, then it’s highly unlikely you’d fall in love with anyone else, let alone little old me.”

“You’d be surprised.” Sherlock stepped closer, and let go of your wrist. he took your face in his hands, and brought your lips to his.

That was the last thing you were expecting tonight.

“You couldn’t have picked amore clichéd day, you know that don’t you.” You joked, after he had pulled away.

“Its the only night John was going to be out. Oh, and for the record, happy valentines day. I love you”

You giggled, before pulling him down into another kiss.

That was the best valentines day yet.

Drunk in Love

Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff (…idk if you’d consider it fluff…but hope you do)

Summary: You loved him, you wanted to forget about him, but all you could do was drink your feelings away

Word Count: 3545

Warning: Depiction of excessive drinking; cursing …at this point cussing is just a standard in all my fics 😂 

Originally posted by yoonmin

The ground shook beneath your feet as you danced your way through the thick mesh of people. The beat of the music entranced you causing your body to move with such fluidity. A smile creeps up your face while you soak in the free-spirited atmosphere that this club had to offer. You were trying to escape, and nothing screamed “escape” more than a loud rave party and bunch of drinks to chug down. 

What was it that you were trying to escape exactly? Work problems? Responsibilities? Parents forcing you on blind dates? Nope. You were escaping your own feelings. 

Every moment of every day you always thought about him. You always wondered if he was doing okay, or if he was eating properly or if was over exerting himself. You were always worried about him both mentally and physically. The entirety of your mind, every nook and cranny, was dedicated to the thought of him, and you hated it.

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For real though, some tips on writing aromantic characters, since… I guess if I’m going to complain about lack of representation so much I might as well try to steer people in the right direction. Keep in mind that this is all just my opinion and I am only one aro, so take it with a grain of salt

  • The definition of aromantic is that you don’t experience romantic attraction. So basically, to put it simply, you don’t get crushes. That’s literally it. Of course like all orientations it’s a bit more nuanced than that and experiences differ from person to person, but it’s important to keep in mind that basic definition.
  • It’s important to remember that aromantic people are just that: people. “Aromantic” is an orientation, not a personality trait. An aro person could be Ken the loudmouthed delinquent skater dudebro, or your overly affectionate friend Misty who wears pastel colors and loves cartoons and shoujo anime, or Goth Loli-chan in accounting. Literally anyone could be aro, so write aro characters as people first and foremost, aro second.
  • “But how can aromantic people be caring?” “Won’t you be lonely?” “How can you ever love anyone?” Friendship exists. Seriously. The spectrum of human emotions is not confined to romance, and platonic love is very much a thing. Think about the Elric brothers, or hell, even Spongebob and Patrick are a good example of a strong platonic relationship. (And before someone comes in here like “Lol but I ship them though”- fuckin good for you that’s not what this is about.)
  • Try to avoid stereotypes such as aromantic people being emotionless, lonely/reclusive, children, having some sort of superiority complex over non-aro people (Seriously we don’t hate people who aren’t aro??), or being some sort of sex demons. I would recommend staying away from overly stoic or cold characters.
    “But wait! Aren’t you constantly advocating for aromantic Jotaro Kujo, who is the very definition of stoic and rude?” Yes, because I relate to him a lot, and see in him- a pre-existing character who was not created to be aro- traits I associate with my own aromanticism. There is a big difference between me, an aro person, seeing myself in a character as opposed to a non-aromantic person being like “This character is aromantic, so I’ll make them emotionally distant” or “This character is a jerk who has no friends so they must be aromantic”. Don’t do that.
  • Some aromantics may hate the very idea of romance, and become uncomfortable or irrationally angry when exposed to it. (This does not make them bad people, you fuckheads.) Some may not care, and some may love the idea of romance, ship a lot, love Valentine’s Day, etc.
  • Being aromantic and not asexual does not necessarily make someone sexually promiscuous. You can be an aromantic who’s not asexual and still be a total virgin. As stated before, literally all aromantic means is that you don’t experience romantic attraction. It does not mean everything is automatically wild partying and one-night stands. I mean, sure, there are aromantic people like that out there, but it’s not the default.
  • Yes, there are many different ways to be aromantic. You can be aromantic and not asexual. Some aromantic people may be willing to go on dates or may have been in previous romantic relationships. Some aromantic people may even occasionally experience romantic attraction. HOWEVER, this does NOT mean you should use this as an excuse to write them as part of your ship anyway.
    Think about it: If an aromantic person wants to read a ship fic, or smut, there are thousands they could choose from. There are a lot less gen fic, even less good gen fic, and barely any fics that explicitly feature aromantic characters. We do not need more fics about romance. We DO need more fics featuring aromantic characters, you know, not being involved in romance.
  • Seriously, try to write aromantic characters in stories that don’t involve too much romance. I mean sure, you can have them in a story that also happens to include a romantic relationship NOT as the main focus, but please don’t include an aromantic character as a third wheel or whatever in your OTP fic and then be all “Look guys! I made aro representation!” As an aromantic person surrounded by romance, I really don’t want to have to sit through ANOTHER ship fic just for the one line where someone’s like “Ew you guys are gross”.
    And especially don’t write fics that are just about someone falling in love with an aromantic character and oh, woe is me, they can never return my love! I’ve been rejected! Alack! Alay! My love has a heart of stone! Yeah, don’t do that. Like most of us don’t feel bad enough about being aro already. Please, don’t.
  • I’m serious, I just really want to see aro characters in fics that don’t focus on romance. Also, do NOT pull the whole “____ had never had a crush and felt like they could never love anyone! …Until _____ came along, and they knew what love was!” That’s really pretty hurtful tbh.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Sunday 2nd April, 2017.

This was by far the funniest, most enjoyable performance I’ve seen. I actually laughed more than I cried which is a first! There were a lot of young kids in the audience today who were so enthusiastically honest and loud with their reactions and the cast just seemed to feed off that energy. I loved it. It meant I pretty much made notes on everything though. Well, I say that. This is really 80% Scorpius and Albus, and 20% Draco and me crying over how much I don’t want Alex to leave. You have been warned.

This is a little under 10k+ words of theatre observations, with a few meta ramblings and silly headcanons (that no one should take seriously) thrown in. Have fuuun : )

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withoutfandomsiamnothing  asked:

Prompt The Traits have their own sides maybe Like anxiety literally meets his own anxiety who's just terrible and the others and Thomas are terrified.

Ok guys in the end this got really dark so…

Quick warnings: mentions of blood, claustrophobia, giant spiders, drowning and angst


What none of them knew was that each one of Thomas’ sides had their own sides.

Yes, it was confusing, but it was real, and none of them knew. Not for a very long time. But months after Thomas started to have a deeper contact with his sides, they found out that they also had sides themselves, but they were… A little different.

For being sides of sides, they could not have physical form. They were more like differently coloured shadows. Morality was yellow, Logic was blue, Prince was red and Anxiety was black. And because they were sides of sides, it meant that they were the core of each one of them. They had no personality. They were the deepest and most intense meanings of each one of the sides.

So the day where Anxiety’s Anxiety came up, it was out of nowhere, and it was intense.

They were recording with Thomas, but Anxiety had been fighting a panic attack for longer than ten minutes now. He tried to focus, on Logic or Prince or Morality or even Thomas, but soon the whole idea became too much, even making Thomas bothered.

“I don’t feel well” Thomas said, closing his eyes, and anxiety sat down on the stairs, covering his face with his hands, trying to focus on anything but the fear, fear, fear. Fear of what, he didn’t know. Sometimes, things just came up and he felt too much.

“I’m sorry” Anxiety muttered, curling up on himself while Thomas sat down on the couch, forgetting about the camera recording everything. Morality rushed to Thomas, worried, while Prince and Logic went to Anxiety.

Not even one minute later, the walls started to get black around Anxiety, and even Thomas, who was trying to even his breathing out, had to look up. Prince and Logic did the same, stepping back scared, and Anxiety lifted his head up, eyes filled with tears, confused, when he noticed the shadow around him. The attack gave place to a scared yelp, and he jumped up, rushing between Prince and Logic as the shadow grew and grew on the wall, taking the form of a man with red eyes.

“Ann, why did you stop?” The shadow said, the voice coming from everywhere and nowhere exactly, making the five men in the room move backwards.

“W-who are you?” Prince asked, stepping forward to stay between the other four and the shadow figure. The shadow let out a dark laugh, slowly moving away from the wall and becoming a three dimensional being.

“Hello Roman. Long time no see” it said, voice dark as he approached the royal. It had no feet, it’s for so going down all the way and making a circle on the ground of darkness. “I can’t believe you forgot about me. After all those times we fought…”

“You…” He said, confused, frowning. “Who are you?”

“I am Ann’s anxiety” the shadow said, wondering around the five and making them move closer to each other, Anxiety and Thomas in the middle of the circle. “You can call me… Nightmare”

“Nightmare?” Prince asked, taking his sword out and watching the shadow as it circled them. “I didn’t know you could take physical form”

“Please make it stop” Anxiety whispered between them all, whimpering in fear, before being held by Thomas, pressing his face against his host’s chest. The shadow laughed loudly, jumping over them and making a curtain of darkness surround the five of them.

“Come on Ann. Don’t be afraid. All of them have me” it said, and then let out an evil laugh. “You’re not the only one that is afraid of something…”

“Let us out!” Prince yelled, waving his sword only to realise that the curtain was now an open, entirely dark room. The room laughed again, red eyes appearing around thirty meters away from them. The royal then growled, seeing and feeling how scared the others were, and used his rage to run to the pair of eyes in the darkness, sword up ready for an attack.

“Roman!” Morality called out, but before he could hold him back he was off. In the middle of the way, however, Prince tripped, falling on his face and letting his sword go. When he opened his eyes, he was in a cell, and as he looked back, there were metal bars holding him apart from the others.

“O-oh no” Anxiety mumbled, lifting his head just enough to see a dark hand over the block of concrete that held Prince hostage.

“Everything is becoming so small Roman” the room said, the hand closing around the block, and Prince gasped, falling on the floor as the walls got smaller and smaller, making him panic, curling up into himself as he tried to ignore the feeling of the walls getting small enough to crush him slowly and painfully until he was a pool of broken bones and blood.

“Roman” Thomas breathed out, scared, his voice coming at least one octave higher than usual, his arms tightening around Anxiety to comfort himself. Morality’s eyes were wide, scared, and he rushed to the cell, pulling on the dark fingers.

“Let him go! You’re hurting him!” He yelled, but the hand only moved beyond the father’s reach, and darkness surrounded him as well, making him turn around, dizzy. Suddenly, he felt something sticky surrounding his feet, and then legs, up his waist, and when he looked up, he was upside down, being held up by his feet right under a giant spider web with a giant spider turning him around, surrounding him with her black sticky web. He didn’t even have time to speak, his mouth and head being covered by the giant insect while he squirmed and waved around, screams coming muffled as he tried to save himself desperately.

“Dad…” Anxiety let out, his voice nothing more then a scared breath, both him and Thomas too frozen and afraid to even speak, while Logic did his best to surround his host and his friend away from the invisible threat.

However, his act of protector lasted for no longer than a few seconds, before a dark rope wrapped itself around his feet, pulling him hard to the ground and making him scream as he was dragged away from the other two, Thomas trying to reach out before Logic was pulled into a tank filled with water and tied to the ground, surrounded by the most horrendous sea monsters without any chance to breathe. He squirmed, using his free hands to reach the air above him but without rope enough to reach it himself and breathe. However, as this was Nightmare, the water would never really kill him, but the feeling of drowning would be ever present until he could find a way of getting out.

“Small places, spiders, water” the darkness whispered as Thomas and Anxiety watched the other three struggling to get out of their nightmares, both with their eyes wide and filled with tears. They were trembling from their feet to their heads, unable to move, barely able to breathe. “What is your fear Ann? What are you afraid of?”

“Anxiety!” Thomas screamed as darkness moved through the small spaces that they weren’t touching, and suddenly Anxiety was alone.


In a dark room.

No sounds.

No Thomas.

No nightmare.

He was alone.

“Alone” he whispered, a sob coming up as he fell to his knees, hands over his face. “Alone…”

He was alone.

But he didn’t want to be alone.

And suddenly, in the darkness, three pairs of colourful eyes appeared.

“Ann” a whisper. He looked up, scared, and jumped backwards when he saw the other three pair of eyes in front of him: a blue one, a yellow one and a red one.

“We can help you” another voice, slightly different, said, and the eyes came closer, slowly taking form of colourful shadows.

“Come” a third voice whispered, and slowly they surrounded him, brightness surrounding him and making his eyes close.

“I don’t want to be alone!” Anxiety said, loudly, and suddenly the brightness shone, a loud sound coming to Anxiety’s ears, the darkness disappearing.

When he opened his eyes again, he was met with Thomas’ living room, with the host looking terrified next to the couch.

“Anxiety?” He muttered, voice shaking so much that it didn’t even sound like he had called the persona. Anxiety looked around, seeing no sign of the others. “Where…”

“I’m sorry Thomas” he said, also shaken, before moving closer to him and hugging him gently. “I need to find the others. Lay down” he said, helping the man sit on the couch before he sank in to Thomas’ mindset.

The situation in there was… Chaotic.

Never in his life Anxiety had felt worst.

Because he had never seen the other three curled up, together, with all of them crying copiously against the other’s shoulder, coughing and almost throwing up from crying so much, clearly feeling worst than anything else before.

He gave one step towards them and froze, the three looking at him scared and still crying. After a moment of silence, interrupted only by sniffles and hiccups, Anxiety felt his own tears filling up his eyes and he rushed to the group, saying ‘sorry’ millions of times as he was hugged and brought into the family hug.

And just like a nightmare, they comforted each other, and everything came back to normal, with a few conditions: Morality ever had to remove any bug from the house again, Prince was allowed to open any door or window at any time, even if it was raining or snowing, no one could have a bath while Logic was at home, and Anxiety would never, ever be let alone again, unless he really insisted on it.