Don’t make people into heroes.


AU: Stiles and Allison meet online and become friends real fast. Eventually, she finds his old Youtube videos and they talk every day. At some point they become more and one day, Allison announces that she’s actually gonna visit him. Friends and family fully aware of what’s going on between them are happy for them but concerned about the whole thing at the same time. In the end, everything turns out well, they have a good time and Allison is happy she finally got to meet Stiles and is a new welcomed member of the Stilinski family.


✧*  MomoTori Week [ ᴅ ᴀ y - ᴏ ɴ ᴇ ]

0 2 / 0 9: C o n f e s s i o n s.

Les Amis de L'ABC (et les amis) Modern AU: Éponine Thénardier

She holds her cigarette with three fingers, like a society darling bored of her rejection. She had, after all, come from a long line of the corrupt elite, and she knows when social graces has been trumped by those who are even more amoral than they are. No more slender lines and hazy cigarette smoke for this daughter of wolves - only the harshness of nicotine on her chapped lips. Only scandalous affairs that end with boys who have grown too attached. Only old bloody money in her trust fund. Only her parents, unvisited, in jail.

In other stories, she had loved and lost. In this, she knows better. You never stood a chance. 

For Thea (tumblr user maytheymeetagain), on her birthday. 

anonymous asked:

how about Levi with a mild concussion, really nauseous and ending up needing to throw up?

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you meant Lavi from DGM or Levy from FT - so I went with Levy ‘cause I never pass up an opportunity for Gajevy. And my god, the sappiness I’ve concocted here. Apologies in advance. 


Someone was calling for her. The voice sounded far away, drifting towards her like static peppering over wavelengths. She vaguely registered an acute pain throbbing in her forehead. The pulse was intensely concentrated, enough to blacken her vision.

A giant form was hovering over her, large hands gently lifting her off the ground. When had she fallen?

“Hey!” A guttural growl forced her heavy eyelids open. “Can you hear me?”

She felt cold. Icy prickles of numbness washing over her in frigid waves. A sudden warmth caressing both of her cheeks helped to clear away some of the fogginess. Levy blinked, vision swimming sickeningly as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Come on, shrimp,” the voice was unsteady, harsh with concern, and yet somehow she felt incredibly safe. “Answer me!”

Levy swallowed, wincing as the pulsing pain in her head flared.

“Gajeel?” The word was thick on her tongue, uncooperative like trying to work the syllables around a mouthful of molasses.

“Hey,” his voice caught on a strangled laugh. “There you are.”

Long, gloved fingers ran carefully through her hair, guiding the wild strands out of her face.

“Wha- …happened?”

She felt his muscles tense around her, coiling protectively as he pulled her closer to his chest.

“You were hit,” he ground out, jaw clenching furiously. “Knocked you out cold.”

She could hear the fear in his voice and didn’t have to wonder what his reaction had been to watching her go down.

“Bastard’s dead,” Gajeel confirmed unnecessarily. “I made fuckin’ sure of that.”

The intensity of his anger concerned her. She could feel his blood throbbing, body trembling with ferocious adrenaline he was just barely containing. She didn’t want to think about what he would’ve done if she hadn’t woken up.

“How bad did he scramble your eggs?” Gajeel was doing his best to triage without jostling her, but every movement still felt like a stab of lightening inside Levy’s skull.

She moaned and Gajeel paused his ministrations immediately, frozen in place as he glared intently down at her.


Mmm…head hurts,” Levy slurred, turning her face into his chest as the sunlight reappeared from behind the clouds. “Really dizzy…”

“Shit,” Gajeel muttered, moving his hand up to securely cup the base of her head. She nearly melted when he began absently rubbing his thumb in small circles over the nape of her neck. The movements were dulling the pain and Levy was perfectly content to stay curled up like this for a while.

“Lev, can you sit up?”

Levy groaned but gave a slight nod. She bit her lip and did her best not to cry out as Gajeel carefully lifted her into a sitting position. His hand never left the center of her back. But even with the support, Levy swayed dangerously as her vision flickered down to a pinpoint and her ears started buzzing.

Nausea roiled in her stomach as the world settled back into focus. Levy swallowed thickly, pushing up on her hands and knees, though she really wasn’t supporting her own weight. Gajeel’s hands encircled her waist, holding her up as he waited patiently for Levy to find her equilibrium.

“You’re doin’ good,” he encouraged, lifting her effortlessly to her feet when she told him she could take it.

She was wrong.

Levy moaned, shaking her head as she sunk back towards the ground, feeling her stomach contents lurch threateningly.

“Whoa, okay,” Gajeel eased her back onto the grass, resuming their former position as he crouched beside her, palm slowly rubbing up and down her back. “You’re okay, shorty. Maybe we should go slower, huh? You just tell me when you’re ready.”

“Gajeel…” Levy whispered, swallowing back a mouthful of saliva. Her mouth was watering and it was a struggle not to spit it out. But every time she gulped it back down her stomach seemed to crawl a little further up into her throat. “I think…I think I’m -“

Levy was cut off by a soft hiccup. Her hand flew to her lips as a sour taste flooded her mouth.

Gajeel’s eyes widened as he momentarily paused his rubbing. He cursed under his breath when he realized what Levy had been trying to tell him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” Gajeel immediately adjusted his position so that Levy could lean over his arm without having to worry about holding herself up. Her head lolled against his bicep as she gripped his forearm, delicate fingers clutching desperately as she trembled through the nausea.

“I - I don’t want to,” she whimpered, shoulders hitching with a tiny gag.

Gajeel continued stroking her back with his free hand, occasionally reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, “Let’s just get this over with, Lev. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be fine, baby.”

Levy wasn’t so sure. Every suppressed gag sent electric bolts of agony ricocheting through her head. Getting sick would surely make everything that much worse.

She was about to tell him so when her body went on autopilot, overruling her willpower and launching her breakfast up her throat.

Levy sputtered and gasped as acid burned her esophagus, whining as the pain ratcheted up to an entirely new level of horrible. She felt Gajeel’s large hand pressing firmly against her back, holding her steady through the bout of vomiting.

“That’s it,” he soothed. “It’ll be over in a minute, okay?”

Levy nearly sobbed when the next heave brought up a gush of liquid that didn’t quite make it into the grass. Some of the mess dribbled over Gajeel’s forearm and she figured if the pain didn’t kill her, the embarrassment would do the job instead. He didn’t say anything about it, just continued coaxing her through the sickness.

“Ow,” Levy coughed weakly as the retching tapered off, panting towards the grass as she tried to get her body under control. She felt the absence of Gajeel’s hand on her back for only a moment before something soft began dabbing at the corners of her lips. She saw a flash of red and realized that he’d untied his bandana to clean her up.

“You feelin’ any better?”  

“M’sorry,” she slurred, burying her face in the crook of his elbow.

“Not your fault, shrimp. You gonna be okay if I pick you up now?”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, feeling a swell of vertigo as he scooped her up in his arms, taking extreme care to rest her head as comfortably as possible against his chest.

Levy felt the gentle sway of his torso as he began carrying her out of those stupid woods. Then her eyes popped open as she remembered something that made her giggle rather drunkenly into his shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Gajeel asked, anxiety spiking in his voice as he glanced down at her.

“You called me baby,” Levy snorted, giving his shirt a playful tug and ignoring the throb of pain at the abrupt movement.

“You’re delirious,” he scoffed incredulously. “I did not.”

“Did too,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

Levy decided the crimson flush blossoming across his cheekbones was all the answer she needed. She settled back contentedly against him, tightening her grip around his neck.

“That’s the concussion talking,” Gajeel insisted, glaring straight ahead.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Levy sighed, noting that she probably was in fact a bit delirious.

“And you’re annoying as hell,” he shot back, stumbling over a step as his foot barely missed a rock.

Levy whimpered at the jostling movement, mushing her face hard into his chest as her head screamed in protest. She hiccuped against his shirt as her stomach clenched forebodingly.

“Oh, jesus,” Gajeel stammered, pausing to adjust his grip around her. “I’m sorry.”

“You did that on purpose,” Levy pouted, keeping her voice low so as not to aggravate her headache or stomach any further.

“I didn’t, I swear. Damn rock popped out of nowhere!”

Oww,” she groaned, fingers involuntarily digging into his neck. “Please don’t yell, Gajeel.”

“Sorry.” He started walking. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Levy hummed, eyes slipping shut as she concentrated on controlling her breathing.

“And don’t scare me like that again, shrimp,” he grumbled, so low she barely heard him.

Levy smiled weakly, kissing the skin peeking out from the slit in his tattered shirt. 

“Stupid Gajeel,” she whispered. 

twenty years from now my kid will come running into the room crying and screaming and throwing things onto the floor and I’ll stand by all horrified and ask over and over “what happened” and they’ll just look at me with betrayal in their eyes, throw the complete box set of avatar the last airbender at me and whisper, “you liar…zutara wasn’t endgame. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN, HOW COULD SHE END UP WITH AANG what about all their chemistry” and I’ll get down real slow and hug them and stroke their hair as they sob. And then I’ll say emotionally, “But they’ll always be together…” Pause as I take a deep breath and place my hand over my heart, “in HERE”


Get to Know Clara - #24 Clara’s echoes aren’t real people and exist to save the Doctor, but Clara Oswald does not. As she stands lost in the Doctor’s time stream, the leaf that symbolizes an entire life left to live (not only her mother’s but her own) floats to her and reminds her of who she really is. “This is you, Clara. Everything you were or will be. Take it.” The story of the Impossible girl is done, but Clara Oswald has an entire future yet to live and she takes it.

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I was looking at this cover and noticed the picture in the background and thought …

is that a tree? Is it a tree? Why would she have a picture of a tree on her wall?

Then I remembered …

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the cherry blossom tree Natsu ‘gave’ her.


Same sim, two versions. I realize they’re almost identical outside of their styling, but I can’t decide which one I hate less so I’m posting them both. She’s an old character from my story that I’m sure no one remembers, lol, but once I finish updating her face I will work on a Pixel Rust scene or two. :)


“Laurent had appeared beneath an archway. Damen’s breath left him in a rush as he took him in: Laurent stood beneath the smooth white stone, the tangle of vines and wisteria matching the laurel that was balanced delicately atop his head, the rich green leaves gold-tipped. His hair was woven into a long braid that went diagonally across the back of his head and ended resting over his bare left shoulder, elegant as spun gold. He wore a white chiton with gold embroidery that resembled Damen’s, neither garment more elaborate than the other, though Laurent’s had a long overfold that flowed from the clasp of royal vermilion at his shoulder down to the backs of his knees. The soft twilight made him breathtaking, his pale limbs bare.

When Damen met his gaze, Laurent smiled, a genuine, joyful expression, nothing repressed or held back, and Damen’s heart moved in his chest. Laurent’s blue eyes were shining and looked nowhere but at him. Damen felt a little stunned.

Laurent came to stand before him and Damen thought, he will always be mine. Laurent’s smile had softened, the expression startlingly gentle, and his hands came up to cup Damen’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away the wetness there. If not for the emotion in his chest, Damen might’ve flushed. He hadn’t noticed that tears had come.”

A Firm Hold of My Heart - punktius