Man this started as a bad joke and now we’re here XD
Ivy, don’t worry it’s a fic I wrote called Catfish. It’s getting a sequel. Someone asked if it was b!Buck. Gabs was excited. Zay made a joke which made me make a joke and we dragged you into this cause you’re my bottom!Steve soul-fran. <3 (Bottom Steve best Steve) ANYWAY,
I AM NOT TRAITOR! T____T(goes to Ao3 and sees there are more b!Buck fic than b!Steve but there is ONE SWITCH FIC)
Okay breaking news. L1av is a traitor and phase 2 will be all bottom Steve or so help me. There will be redemption.
“Ronan kept going, his voice louder. ‘No. do you hear me, cabeswater? You promised to keep me safe. who are we to you? Nothing? If you let him die, that is not keeping me safe. Do you understand? If they die, I die, too.’’”
In a world in which the Hales are alive and healthy, Derek grew up to be a very self-confident kind of cocky college student who enjoys living life to the fullest and not denying himself simple pleasures; like drinking with his fratboy buddies, playing sports, or, you know, gangly, awkward, sarcastic and nerd-tastic teenagers who catch his eye. Stiles is just here to study, thank you very much. He’s not going to be distracted by unfairly good-looking, charming and kind of arrogant fellow students who think the world revolves around them. He's not. Even when he discovers Derek isn’t half as dumb and a billion times nicer than he originally thought.
Alec Lightwood:Mostly extinct is NOT EXTINCT ENOUGH.
Alec Lightwood:Straight people. Why can’t they control themselves?
Alec Lightwood:There’s a Hot Silent Brothers Calendar? Do they sell it?
Alec Lightwood:I did not make a pie for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients. Two, because I don’t actually know how to make a pie.
also Alec Lightwood:And three, because I am not your bitch.
also Alec Lightwood:Take my hands. And take my strength too. Whatever of it you can use to— to keep yourself going.
also Alec Lightwood:It's not like it's one big bad thing. It's a lot of little invisible things. When Magnus and I were traveling, and I'd call from the road, Dad never asked how he was. When I get up to talk in Clave meetings, no one listens, and I don't know if that's because I'm young or if it's because of something else. I saw Mom talking to a friend about her grandchildren and the second I walked into the room they shut up. Irina Cartwright told me it was a pity no one would ever inherit my blue eyes now. It's not like a stab wound you can protect me from. It's a million little paper cuts every day.