you have a tumblr and you may be creeping your tag

Watch Me Run - Part 1

Masterlist  -  Part 2

Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader… eventually. I love a slow burn okay?!)

Prompt: The nightmare comes frequently and at the same time every day - one day you manage to sleep peacefully only to be greeted with the morning news by a story of a gruesome murder. The victim is the same person that’d appeared in your dreams

Warnings: graphic descriptions of death

Word Count: 1378

Author’s Note: A strange idea that has come out of Cumin’s Halloween Writing Challenge @rotisserierogers. This part reads like a prologue, but you really shouldn’t skip it so… it’s Part 1! (gif is not mine)

The air had the cold bite and that electric tingle of a pending storm. Grey clouds roiled over the mountains, seeming to absorb the darkness from their granite peaks with ever increasing depth. The darker they looked, the closer they marched to the ancient cabin whose chimney puffed white smoke to fight off the cold.

On the porch, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, stood The Seer with his green eye on its long copper chain hanging heavy around his neck. He watched the storm approach with a faraway look. The cataracts that clouded his once clear dark eyes meant he perceived the coming danger in the sharp wind and the cut of the ice crystals in the air. But mostly he knew of its presence from his dreams. The same dream. Night after night it had woken him at exactly the same time with this same biting cold nipping at his soft round nose, freezing the air in his tight lungs, and making the warm steam of freshly spilled blood that much more unnatural.

Keep reading

Eye Of The Hurricane

Originally posted by sensitivehandsomeactionman

Characters- Dean x Reader

Warnings- fluffy sweetness

Word Count- 853

Summary- Your life was a whirlwind, yet you find a calm in the middle of your storm.

A/N- I wrote this at 2am and it just- it felt good. It was a practice in using no dialogue, and it’s really freeing not having to worry over that. A nice change of pace.

A hurricane. That’s what your life had always been. It was a whirlwind of people, places and monsters. A nomad all your life, you’d come to embrace the craziness of your life. It was the still, quiet moments that you never knew what to do with. Prior to Dean Winchester, you’d never had them.

The first time was after a bad hunt. Dean had thrown himself in front of you, taking the brunt of a werewolf attack. Sam shot it shortly afterward, but Dean was left bloody on the floor. There was so much blood. You knew how to handle this. Blood and pain you knew. The way Dean watched you though- you didn’t know what to do with that.

Keep reading


A Peter Parker x Reader Fluffy Drabble

Your mind wandered as each cloud passed overhead. With each different possibility, you escaped into a new reality. A fish? You were a mermaid under the sea. The head of a dragon? You were a knight sent on an important mission for your Kind and Queen. Captain America’s shield? You were a member of the Avengers. You hated reality.


You sat up and your heart began to race. Your eyes met a pair of curious brown ones. Their accompanying smile sent a grin to your lips and you felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. It was Peter. With a skateboard in hand, he stood above you and chuckled softly.

“I knew it was you. Ned didn’t believe it, said he’d never seen you in a dress before.” 

“Hey.” You bit your lip and glanced down at your dress. “Yeah, I was actually supposed to meet a guy here for a date b-”

“Oh, a-am I interrupting?” His words came out quickly as he searched his surroundings. “Is he coming now? I c-can go.”

But,” You leaned towards him, accentuating the word with a hand motion. “He had to take a raincheck. My assumption is he realized how much of a nerd I am and ditched me for someone cooler.”

“Being a nerd is cool.” Peter’s charming smile returned. “At least, I think it is.”

“It may also be that cloud gazing isn’t that interesting of a date.” You dropped onto your back and stared up at the sky. “I just thought it’d be fun to get lost in the clouds and talk to each other, get to know the more personal things.”

“If he’s not coming,” Peter’s body shifted nervously. “May I join you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You held your breath, he had to have been kidding. You waited for him to take back his words, to run back to Ned and do whatever the two of them were doing. You turned your gaze to him. 

“If you want.” You instinctively wiped your hands on the base of your dress. “I won’t force you to hang out with me, especially if you’re here with Ned.”

“You’re not forcing me, I like hanging out with you.” He dropped his skateboard to the ground and settled himself onto your plaid blanket. “Besides, Ned’s off doing homework, or something.”

You didn’t respond verbally, you merely nodded your head and returned your attention to the clouds, or at least you tried to. Seconds felt like hours as you listened to his breathing, the little noises he’d make when he saw a cloud he liked, the faint movements of his hands; they’d rest behind his head, on his stomach, chest, above his head, on the ground, on top of your hand.

“Oh, s-sorry.” He pulled his hand away quickly. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to do, well, that. I’m-”

“It’s okay, Peter.” You licked your lips before looking over at him. He was already looking in your direction. “What?”

“Nothing.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. “It’s nothing.”

You couldn’t get yourself to pull away. You were lost in his eyes as the clouds moved by above. Your hand inched towards his again and you locked fingers. His eyes jerked down before back to yours, his cheeks growing crimson when he realized you had done it on purpose. 

“You look angelic in this light.” His voice remained soft. “I-I mean, you always look beautiful, I just meant that-”

You laughed wholeheartedly and rolled onto your side, removing your hand from his. You loved how quirky Peter was, how awkward. It reminded you that not everyone was a smooth-talking bad boy like in the popular tv shows. He was the most adorable person you’d ever laid eyes on. 

“Thank you.” You brought your free hand up and brushed a strand of his hair from his face. “You’re pretty angelic yourself, Parker.”

Peter’s eyes dropped to your lips and butterflies fought in your stomach. You watched as he contemplated moving onto his side, but he remained on his back. You watched him brush his fingertips over his lips and tighten his hands into fists. You watched as he opened his mouth to speak, but your attention was pulled towards an approaching Ned.

“Yo, Peter, you ready? Hey, (Y/N), I like the dress.” Ned waved and held a laptop underneath his arm.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Peter cleared his throat and pushed himself up to his feet, grabbing his skateboard and moving away languidly next to Ned.

Your heart dropped. You had wanted him to make a move, any move. Even if it had been scooting closer or taking your hand again once you switched positions. You chastised yourself for not making a move yourself, more than just holding his hand once. You’d lost your once in a lifetime opportunity. 

You returned to laying on your back and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to imagine what kissing Peter would be like. Soft and gentle? Rough and passionate? A mixture of both? You longed to know. 

The soft patter of feet and the sound of something falling to the ground surrounded you. You didn’t open your eyes, it didn’t sound close enough to hurt you. You were too concerned with fantasizing about kissing a boy you’d never get to.

“I couldn’t leave without doing this.”

Peter’s voice echoed in your ears before you could open your eyes. His lips were on yours and his hands on your cheeks. Your forearms held you up as he kissed you, an unbelieving awestruck you. It hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds before he pulled away and ran back to Ned. The tingling of his lips on yours remained and you sat watching him leave. 

Once he had left, you packed up your things and ran home, needing to call your friends and explain what had just happened. You were excited to go to school the next day, you’d get to see him, even if he acted like nothing had happened. To whisper to him that he, in fact, had a rather rough and passionate kiss.

You reminded yourself to text Mr. Raincheck and thank him for not showing up.

A/N: Kind of wrote this down on paper and thought I’d put it on Tumblr for fun. Plus, you know, I wanna write more Peter Parker fics because I’m a complete bitch for Tom Holland. Tagging you, @riseofthehufflepuffs, because I know how much you like fluffy Peter Parker. Other tags below the “Keep Reading”

Keep reading

Chaos is a Ladder - 2

This ship writes itself, I tell you. 

Part 1 is both here on Tumblr or on Ao3, if you prefer to read there. Unbeta’d, so mistakes are mine. Tagging my enablers @alchemistc @seethelovelyintheworld @nfbagelperson @kliomuse

Summary: Heroes do stupid things and die. Jon Snow does especially stupid things. After so much loss, she doesn’t know how she’ll bear it if he dies too. What they’re doing here, now, in her bed, that can only make it worse, but she doesn’t care. It’s too late. She might as well enjoy the pleasurable moments where she can.

Rating: M


Daenerys opens her eyes to find Jon sitting on the edge of her bed, trousers in place but little else. He’s watching her, his expression etched with doubts and self-loathing, his hands clasped tightly together. At the angle he’s sitting, every muscle in his torso stands out, tension radiating from him, but he doesn’t say anything when she blinks into awareness. He merely meets her stare head on, and his eyes soften, his breath a quiet sigh.

“Save me the speech on regrets,” she snaps before he can speak, hating how vulnerable she feels under that careful examination, hating that he so plainly despises himself for what they’ve done. Yes, she knew last night they were inviting trouble by giving into their desires, but he hasn’t even washed the scent of her from his skin. He could at least do her the decency of being gone when she woke and spare her whatever brooding misery lays behind that sigh.

He jerks back as if she’d slapped him, his brows furrowing with confusion. “I don’t regret one bit of it,” he says slowly, quietly, and deep within her, the dragon settles, momentarily soothed. “Do you?”

“Of course not.” It comes out more harshly than she intends, but she’s still smarting from the unexpected blow of her emotional reaction. Giving into physical lust is one thing. Getting emotionally tangled with this man, a man she could fall in love with if she’s not very, very careful, that won’t do. It won’t win her any of the battles she’s yet to fight. It won’t bring back her dragon. There is no future that way, with this bastard king.

Swept up in the storm of her own thoughts, she throws back the furs and rises, crossing to a trunk and drawing out a finely woven wool robe in a deep gray. It’s gratifying to feel Jon’s eyes on her the entire time, to turn back to face him after pulling the robe closed to find his eyes dark and a different sort of tension altogether in his body.

She ignores that between the soft white fur lining and the deep grey wool, she’s in Stark colors.

Pausing to scoop up what’s left of his discarded clothes from the floor, Daenerys drops them on the bed but remains standing in front of him. “You weren’t wearing your sword when you came here,” she says, gesturing to the pile of small weapons. “You should keep it with you, always.” The words come on their own, not exactly with her permission, but there’s something vulnerable about him sitting there on the edge of her bed, and she doesn’t like the trickle of fear that creeps along her spine.

He nods, briefly glancing down at the daggers and leather. “Aye.” He starts to reach for his clothes, but at the last minute, his fingers fall instead on her thigh. They slip quickly up to her waist, pulling her down into a kiss that melts the awkwardness between them in an instant. It’s a kiss that explodes across her tongue, rattling her senses, and then it quiets, his thumb rubbing her jaw. He doesn’t fully release her when the kiss ends, waiting for her eyes to open. “I don’t regret anything about you.”

Keep reading

Forever And Almost Always - Part 1

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 2 (removed, on hiatus) -  Series Playlist

Summary: Series: Bucky is the ex you keep going back to, but what happens when one of you is interested in more than just the rebound? Chapter: You run into your ex and the pull is instant and all too familiar.

Warnings: swearing, implied smut (nothing explicit included)

Word Count: 1313

Author’s Note: Ok! Here we go! I’m kind of excited about this series. It’s been in my head for months, but trapped there through all the craziness in my life right now, but I think I’m well enough ahead to start posting. Fingers crossed I don’t get behind. :)

Originally posted by uncensoredsideblog

Leaning forward, arching over the sleek glass bar top and spinning the credit card in your fingers, you waited impatiently for your drinks. You were more than ready for another. Another 3, if you were honest. These kinds of parties were never your scene. At first they were exciting, sure, but pretty soon they all started to look the same and you started to feel the same restless boredom tugging at the corner of every conversation, every polished smile.

Keep reading

using the shared HC’s for a merformers AU @transformers-4-life (tumblr seriously hates me when tagging you for some reason aaa)  so enjoy young mer roddy and reader lmao

“Roddy, I don’t think this is a good idea..” (Y/n) mumbled, grip tightening when Rodimus gave a playful chirp and tugged her closer, giving her a gentle nuzzle as the two swam closer to the cave, unaware of the predatory gaze following the two younglings.“See, I told you this seashell looked like Magnus! It even has his colors!” Rodimus laughed cheerfully, holding the shell obnoxiously close to his companions face, a gentle look fleeting across his features as (Y/n) gave a quiet giggle, gently taking the shell and examining it with care, only peering up at Rodimus when the normally loud mer fell quiet, gaze locked onto a blurred figure in the water, his fins flexed in a threatened posture, one (Y/n) recognized as ‘scared’.

“Roddy? What’s wrong?” she questioned quietly, fear slowly taking hold as the small mer seemed to shield her from something, something (Y/n) couldn’t quite make out, but guessing with the shaking of Rodimus’ small frame, she could only guess it was something very, very bad.

“I wanna go home, Roddy, I’m scared” (Y/n) whispered, slowly moving closer to Rodimus, eyes closed in fear as he gave a quiet chirp in understanding, turning to look at her with a smile meant to comfort her, but it only scared her more when the figure made itself more known to the two.

“Home? Why leave so soon? You haven’t even said hello, yet!” a smooth voice echoed out, chilling both younglings to the bone. “Why, that’s a lovely shell you have there, may I see it?” the voice continued, the figure creeping closer as Rodimus seemed to lower himself down onto (Y/n)’s lap, fins still flared in warning as a low hiss rattled his small frame as he continued to try and hide his companion.

The two could only watch in confused horror as the figure was revealed to be an octo-mer, Rodimus growling when a tentacle slid towards them, silent tears slowly falling down (Y/n)’s cheeks as she grabbed at Rodimus’ arm, scooting away from the approaching mer, a chilling smirk playing at the mers features as he continued to scuttle closer towards the two.

“My name is Tarn, who might you be?” he mused, creeping closer to the small mer and his companion, “And why are you so far from home without anyone to help you?” he continued, a more sinister smile taking residence on his lips as he raised a hand to the small human’s face, giving a sharp click and hiss when Rodimus bit at his hand, refusing to let the older mer harm his friend.

Did your parents not teach you respect for your superiors?” Tarn snarled, raising a harsh hand to Rodimus, seeming to collect himself as he quickly shifted his gaze to the human, curious as to why they had ceased crying and seemed to be hopeful, her gaze trained on something behind him.

Who said they were alone?” another voice called out, drawing Tarn’s attention long enough for the young mer to scramble towards the water, his companion not far behind, quickly racing towards the owner of the new voice, a chorus of chirps and “uncle!” echoing through the cave as Tarn could only stare in disbelief at the sight before him, 

Megatron, the ex-warlord of the seas, holding the small human close to his frame as the other smaller mer seemed to cling to the mershark’s fins, both seeking comfort in each other and the warlord, chirps and clicks echoing through the cave as he checked the younglings over, giving a glare to the mer-pup before turning his glare to the octo-mer.

What are you doing here, Tarn? You have no business here” Megatron snarled, holding the human closer as she flinched away from Tarn’s harsh stare, fins flexed and stance ready to either fight or flee, whichever seemed to be the best course of action at present.

I was only checking on these … younglings … who I presumed to be unguarded and I, being a responsible mer, felt a twinge of concern for these two, Primus knows what troubles a young un-supervised mer could get into” he mused, his tone taking a darker turn as he glared down at Rodimus pointedly, hmphing when Megatron quickly hid the little one from Tarn’s sight.

As you can clearly see, they are fine, now if you please” Megatron hissed, quickly snatching up Rodimus before high-tailing it out of the cave, heading straight for the seaside home of a certain medic.


“WHAT IN THE SEVEN SEAS MADE YOU THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO VENTURE OUT OF MEGATRONS SIGHT, LET ALONE PUTTING (Y/N) AT RISK!” Ratchets voice boomed out,  spooking the young mer as he quickly lowered his gaze and gave a quiet apologetic chirp.

“It’s not only me you should be apologizing to, Rodimus, you gave Megatron quite the scare, alongside myself, plus, your fins are torn, let’s get you checked out, alright?” Ratchet rumbled soothingly, attempting to comfort the frightened mer as Rodimus gave a quiet nod, allowing Ratchet to pick him and carry him inside.

“Now, Rodimus, you need to sit still alright? I need to stitch these wounds or they won’t heal properly, can you do that for me?” the medic continued, watching as Rodimus flinched when he reached for the needle and thread, chirping in a terrified manner until Ratchet would put the needle down and comfort the young mer.

“(Y/n)! Come here, please” Ratchet called over his shoulder, gaze never leaving Rodimus as the young mer continued to fidget and quietly chirp. “Yes, dad?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through the small house, echoing louder as she walked closer, only locating the two when Rodimus gave a chirp in greeting, head fins twitching when (Y/n) quickly walked towards the pair, taking Rodimus’ hand gently with a smile, turning to look at her dad in question.

“Rodimus need’s stitches, but he’s scared, and it’s always less scary when you have a friend by your side” he mused, giving a nod as (Y/n) quietly pointed to the open spot beside Rodimus, helping her climb onto the medical table, smiling as the two seemed to gravitate towards each other, (Yn) being very careful of Rodimus’ fins, while the mer began to nuzzle into his human companion, giving a squeak when Ratchet began the long process of stitching his fins while he was distracted by (Y/n), only stopping long enough to give an apologetic look before continuing on, trying to ignore his painful chirps (that were somewhat muffled, since he had his head buried in (Y/n)’s chest a she pet his head fins), finally giving a hum when the stitches were finished.

“You’re going to have to stay with us for the night, to let the stitches set properly, is that alright with you, Rodimus?” Ratchet asked calmly, checking the mer over to make sure he hadn’t accidentally missed an injury, giving a small smile to ease the mers anxiety before helping the two younglings down, and only watched as (Y/n) tried to carry her friend away to her room so they could (possibly) watch some old movies before falling asleep (Ratchet wasn’t entirely sure, he wasn’t even aware if the T.V. still worked)


“Hush, don’t wake them up”, “That mean’s you, Ratchet, I haven’t said a thing”, “Stop laughing, you brute” “Alrighty, alright, lets leave them be” Megatron chuckled, gently pulling Ratchet along as the two slowly left the adorable scene of young (Y/n) and Rodimus being wrapped up in a nest of blankets, curling up around each other, completely unaware of the world around them as they slept on.

“Goodnight little ones” Ratchet whispered, gently flicking the light switch off before closing the door and walking away, barely hearing the soft reply of, “goodnight, papa” that left a smile on his face the rest of the night.

Time Upon Once, Ch.3 (3/?)

Summary:  Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed  for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story: @lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx  @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain and @icecubelotr44   (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II


I know… it’s been ages. But I’m back to this story now! I cannot commit to a weekly update, because writing this fic is a lot of work that involves plotting, rewatches, tweaks, backstory and a huge amount of detail that is really draining for me. So bear with me. I will commit to have an update every two weeks.
All comments and reviews of encouragement will be highly appreciated

Chapter III

The sound of knocking at the door interrupted Killian’s first cup of coffee in the morning. He went to answer, still absentmindedly holding his mug in his right hand.

Regina was standing on the other side of the door, wearing a sensible grey dress and a coat, holding a basket full of red apples. She was poised to speak, but whatever words she had died on her lips the second she got a good look at him, her eyes widening as she trailed her gaze back and forth over his body. It was then that Killian realized he hadn’t bothered to put on his shirt before opening the door, his bare chest attracting the Mayor’s attention before she lowered her gaze appreciatively to where his jeans were hanging low on his hips. Killian contemplated acknowledging her interest with a suggestive remark, but he ultimately decided against it. He had zero intention of following up on those remarks with any type of dalliance with his son’s adoptive mother. Some doors - much like his heart - were better to remain closed. He settled for a soft clear of his throat and a raised eyebrow in her direction.

Keep reading

songwritin4life  asked:

Hi! :) I was told to get in contact with you for The Thing?

Strap in.






























Welcome to the fandom, dearie.

chlorineandqualms  asked:

Hey so I just came across your blog (stalked it a little) and was surprised to see that you've only been using this blog for like 2 months. Obviously your content's amazing but have you got any tips about how to gain an audience for aspiring writers and newcomers?

First of all, thank you for stalking my blog! When I started my Tumblr at the beginning of May, my main goal was to make some writer friends who could give me feedback on my work (since I have almost no writer friends in real life). As for building yourself a following, I would say it’s important to actually be invested in the people you’re following. Take the time to read their work, and if you enjoy it, don’t hesitate to let them know! I’d say a good 80% of my daily Tumblr time is spent reading posts on my newsfeed, creeping the tags I use to find new poets, and stalking my favourite blogs to see if I missed any of their posts. So many people on Tumblr think they’re just shouting into The Void; they don’t realize how talented they are, and if you help them realize it, you’re probably going to make yourself a new friend. Other than that, I’d say participate in poetry challenges and tag your posts so other poets can find you. Hope this helped!

You’re odd, like me: Ch 7

A bughead fanfic.

Read on

On tumblr: (Ch 1) (Ch 2) (Ch 3) (Ch 4) (Ch 5) (Ch 6)

Summary: Jughead is not interested in girls, ironically this seems to make a lot of them interested in him. Except for Betty, and it drives him crazy when she won’t show any interest in him after spending so many late nights together working on The Blue and Gold.

Authors note: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. Get ready to be comfortable with the word aptitudinal. I don’t know how it happened, but it was used a lot in this one for some reason.

Chapter 7

I’m standing right outside her house. Which, I know, sounds like the premise of a horror movie. It’s not all that creepy I swear! She did invite me after all.

She did invite me. I try to convince myself.

I tried to stay at the Twilight, I really did. But as I looked around the room all I could think of was the night when she had sat in that chair, and looked out of that window and had her feet on that stool. The room has been warmer in a non-heat related way since that night. I could visualize the exact look of concentration she had had and her tired eyes. When I tried to think of something else I eventually would slip back down the rampage toward her again. Much like graffiti I am permanently marked with her tag, or rather, essence.

Yet her essence is not enough, so here I am. Standing behind the tree outside her house. Again, not like a creep! She did invite me. The reason I’m behind the tree is because, even though I have made the whole journey over here, I am still not quite sure if I will take her up on her offer. Normally I wouldn’t come, merely out of not wanting to seem desperate, but facts faced: I am desperate. Truthfully I really don’t want to stay a second longer than I have to in that projector room. It feels like I am sleeping in someone else’s house; it’s a shelter, yet not quite comfortable enough. Although I guess Betty’s house would be someone else’s. But Betty isn’t someone. She’s Betty. And she actually really seemed like she wanted me to come. And also, I really want to come.

I would climb up to her window but I don’t want to be one of those so-called “romantic” creeps in movies who climb up a girl’s house uninvited and knock on a her window. Not cool. So I send her a text.

I’m outside your house. The text reads. I try to ignore the creepy undertones as I wait for her reply.

She did invite me. She did invite me. She did invite me.

Scared she’ll invite me in, scared she won’t I wait behind the tree. That’s when I hear it. Her voice. “Jughead!” She calls as silently as she can. After seriously contemplating staying behind this tree for the remainder of the night I step forward. It’s the thought of returning to the solidarity of the Twilight that forces me to emerge from the shadows.

I see her leaning out of her window, her room being the only source of light.

“You’re going to have to climb.” She says in a not so hushed anymore voice. It’s a challenge, I can sense, and I smile a smile that I’m not sure if she detects.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask while giving the rose trellis ahead of me a sceptic look.

“I don’t mind. I guess it’s up to you whether you think you have the aptitude.” Her tone is nonchalant, it’s teasing. She doesn’t think I can do it.

“I reckon it’s less about aptitude and more about whether the lattice will hold me.” I grab onto it to try and make out its stability. The fact that it’s made of wood doesn’t comfort me at all. “Here I come.” I say loudly enough for Betty to hear me but not to wake her family. As I make my way from one plank to the next, reaching for another something to grab hold of, I think of Betty’s room. I try to imagine it, but I find it kind of hard to. What’s harder to believe, is that I’m going to see it for myself as soon as I’ve managed to climb this thing.

“How’s it going?” Betty’s voice can be heard from the upside of the roof. There’s still that annoying challenge to it and I wonder if she’s even worried for me. Because I’m starting to worry for real and my heart is beating fast. The problem isn’t so much the climbing anymore and now it’s the fact that I’m presumably supposed to make my way over the edge of the roof, which doesn’t seem very likely in my head at the moment. But then, in my moment of despair, when I’m just about to seriously consider making my way down again and leaving this town for good, an angel appears. I look up to see Betty now sitting right above me on the edge. My eyes go wide at the sight of her.

“What are you doing?” I say a little too loudly.

“Shhh! Let’s not raise our voices Jug, I’m right here. Anyway, it’s okay, I’m out here all the time.” She whispers reassuringly.

“Oh, okay. It’s just with you being on the edge you are way too near the edge in my opinion.” I wonder if she can even detect the intended humour beneath my exasperation.

Betty laughs and hoists herself up to a standing position, only to squat down again. She reaches her hand out for me. “You’re going to need someone to pull you up.”

I look at her and to my astonishment her expression is dead serious. So I guess I’m just going to have to do this. I run the thought through my head once: that, although it may seem dangerous, this is now something that I will soon do.

“Seems a little dangerous.” I say with a shaking voice.

“To the untrained eye.” Betty smiles. “Honestly, me and my cousin would do this on a regular when we were little. It’s not a problem.” She extends her arm once again for me, it seems she is ready to go. And honestly right now, the thought of falling on my back from this height is more soothing than the thought of folding and trudging back home. So I take hold of her arm in an iron grasp, and she pulls me over the edge to the safe haven.

The threat is terminated, but my heart still pounds loudly in my chest. The only thing I’m thinking of as I lay panting on the hard roof tiles is that missions often seem less intimidating while one has yet to actually embark upon them. This was one of those cases. I also wonder whether or not Betty can hear my heartbeat.

“Congratulations, you have now reached the safe haven. Your 72 virgins are just around the corner.” Betty says while lying down next to me.

“You do know that haven in safe haven and heaven are two different words, right?” I ask her. “They’re not even homophones.”

“Still a funny joke.” She retorts. “And by the way Jughead. That was pretty aptitudinal what you did just now.”

A smile breaks out across my face as I stare upwards at the sky. “Oh, what? You’re making up words now? This has gone too far Betty.”

“First of all, aptitudinal is a word, look it up. Second of all, what happened to, and I quote, ‘I don’t subscribe to prescriptive grammar’ end quote.” She mocks me.

“Making up words is not really the same as not believing in prescriptive grammar.” I retort although I can’t seem to make my smile disappear.

Betty sits up and looks at me; thankfully her smile is still attached to her body as well. “Really? Because making up a word and ending a sentence with a preposition seems equally silly to me.” She starts making her way back toward her window and I follow.

“I do agree however, that it was most definitely very aptitudinal of me. I reckon it almost measures up to your legendary kick-flip.” I keep teasing as we climb.

“So we’re on board with aptitudinal being a word all of a sudden? And yes, although I feel strongly that your work was aptitudinal indeed, I believe my kick-flip reaches the highest height on the Richter scale of aptitude.”

When I get to the window she’s already sitting on her bed. She suddenly looks a little insecure while I step inside as quietly as I can. She’s in a t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. Despite being the only source of light from the outside, her room is dark except for some fairy lights lighting the walls. Betty is quiet and I inspect her room without trying to make it seem like I am. The colours are dark, there are posters of bands I have no clue about and there are a lot of plants.

“You like plants?” I ask in a lack of other things to say.

She studies me for a second. “They clear the air … and I clear theirs.” She says and picks up her nearest plant on her nightstand and breathes barely audibly on to it.

I try to smile but it comes out irresolute and she rolls her eyes.

“I don’t name them or anything. It’s just nice to have a little bit of nature with me as I escape to a highly mechanic indoor world.” Betty still has that insecure tinge to her that erupted when we entered her own personal safe haven, so to speak. It’s fun to see her not be the girl who skates around Riverdale High in her own world. Even if that is the girl I’ve had an interest in from day one.

“Well if you’re not going to name them…” I tread cautiously toward one of the plants on her desk, eyeing her for permission.

“Go ahead.” She says.

Most of the plants are just green leafs, I suspect some sorts of herbs. But some of them are actual flowers bursting with colours like lilac or yellow, giving some shades to the otherwise achromatic feeling this room has. “What’s this plant?” I ask, smelling the leaf of a specifically odd looking one.

“I don’t know. I don’t usually bother learning about each plant, I just buy random seeds if I like their picture on the packaging.”

“I see. So you plant them yourself?”

Betty smiles. “I do. Or I try at least.”

I look around at the array of plants she has in her room, they are all placed randomly and there seems to be no thought whatsoever toward the layout. “Seems your attempts are paying off.” Betty remains quiet while I further inspect her plants. “This one I will name … Abel.”

Betty’s eyebrows are raised when I look at her. “Off to a good start.” She says.

I ignore the comment and move on to the next one. “You will be called Gabriel.” I am seemingly now talking to the plants.

I circle the room, mostly looking at her posters while occasionally naming the plants I pass by. “You will be called Josef … and you are definitely a Maria … does this look like an Abraham or an Isaac to you, Betty?” Until I am left with only one plant left to name. I hesitate before I take a seat next to Betty on the bed. The atmosphere changes, time seems to move slower. My eyes drift to the plant she’s holding on to tightly. It’s a cactus. I take my finger to poke gently one of the thorns. “I shall name you … Elisabeth.” This receives me a look from Betty.

“How come they’re all names from The Bible?”

“I just realised that as well and I’m not sure why.” I answer. Betty breaks out laughing. “It just sort of happened I guess.” I add while laughing with her. We are both cupping our mouths with the intention of not being too loud.

When the laughter dies out Betty falls into a hesitant manner of being, leaving her exterior intriguingly abstruse. She looks at me with eyes as curious as my own. I find myself not having the faintest idea how this night will lead on. If I had been at the Twilight I would have been asleep by now, waiting for the next day, which would proceed to look suspiciously similar to the last. Instead a pair of intriguingly abstruse eyes are staring at me and I’m dying to find out why they are so.

“We should probably sleep.” Betty says. She doesn’t move a muscle. I look at her, uncertain of what to do.

“Right.” This is the awkward part, the part I can’t play off by giving her plants Bible names. We now have to be real about the cold truth of the situation, the fact that I’m taking refuge in her room. The fact that she is saving me, she’s providing me a home in a way that the Twilight couldn’t even try to. But I am an intruder still, upon ground that doesn’t belong to me, ground that doesn’t really have a place for me.

“As you may have noticed, there is no extra bed. Putting one in would obviously be a dead giveaway to my parents.” Betty puts her cactus back on the nightstand. “So you can either sleep with me on my bed or on the floor. The bed is quite big so I really don’t mind.” She says without really looking at me.

I stand up, suddenly restless. “Yeah, but that’s alright I’ll just sleep on the floor. No worries.” I say while looking around, seizing her bedroom floor since it’s the place I’ll be spending my next few hours.

“Jug.” She interrupts my heedless scurrying, putting my motions to a halt. “You can sleep on the bed.” She states clearly, making sure to pronounce every syllable.

I debate in my head what’s best to do in this situation. Should I do what I want to, and sleep on the bed, or should I insist on sleeping on the floor? I don’t want to do the wrong thing and I want to be a good guy, whatever that even means. But I find myself agreeing to her proposition none the less.

Silently she moves over to one side of the bed and lies down. The silence remains while I remove my shoes and jacket, I don’t even bother removing my suspenders before I lie down on the opposite side. She turns the fairy lights off and it’s pitch dark for a while until I can see her outline, and then her eyes and then I gradually have a more detailed perspective of her features. I watch her as she studies intently the palm of her hand.

“Remember that time at the party?” She asks quietly, like she’s whispering to a small flower. “You took my hand in yours, but you never shook it. What was that?” Her eyes never once leave her palm.

“I wanted you to know that I was aware of your scars. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it was fine.”

“My intention was only ever to be considerate, let you know that you are not neglected.” I tried my best to choose my words carefully, but in the end I still felt like said the wrong thing.

“Yes, I understand. It did make me feel …less alone.”

I keep staring at the back of her hand while she stares at the palm of it.

The night served to make our brains tired and thus it filtered less, leaving us with a pealed version of ourselves for the other to take part in. The darkness served to make our appearances less conspicuous, leaving a false sense of concealment for us to be relieved by. Possibly as a result of that, I found myself reciting Edgar Allan Poe, “And by strange alchemy of brain, her pleasures always turned to pain, her naiveté to wild desire, her wit to love, her wine to fire.”* I feel a little silly, but I plough through and afterward she finally looks at me.

When she doesn’t say anything, I proceed to tell her, “If you want to, you can try explaining how you feel. I am very interested.”

“It’s a mystery.” She says.

“I love mysteries.” I say.

She hesitates for a long time. But I know she will say something eventually, and it takes a little bit of will power to wait for her, yet I manage.

“I don’t have any friends, no one seems to like me.” To my surprise she doesn’t sound insecure, she sounds casual.

“Are you sure that no one likes you or if maybe sometimes… you shun away from them?” I think of all the times I’ve tried to make our relation move beyond that of a professional one and Betty has seemed oblivious to my attempts, in her own little world like always.

“Why would anyone be interested in me? Have you seen the way I dress and have you seen the people at Riverdale High?” She asks frustrated.

“Then why do you dress that way?” I ask curiously.

“Because! It doesn’t matter, I’m not like them either way.” Her eyes are wet but her exterior doesn’t falter, she’s still hard as a rock.

“And how are you different?” I realise that I’ve become some sort of bot, I’m not so much here anymore, she’s not even looking at me, she’s talking to herself and I’m just the catalyst keeping the conversation going.

“They drink, they party, I don't– I’ve never felt… sexually attracted to anyone.” She finishes, and suddenly I’m there again, in her room, right next to her. She looks directly at me for the first time since the conversation started, but I can tell she finds it hard to. “That’s why no guy would ever be interested in me.” She concludes. “That’s why I wear what is comfortable rather than what is pretty. Because it doesn’t matter, it won’t make a difference.” She stares at me and straight through me, if I moved her eyes wouldn’t follow. “This is what straight girls would look like it there existed no boys to please.”

I laugh at that. “I don’t think that’s true. Do you really believe they would go through all that trouble just to please boys? I think they do it for none other than themselves.”

“Are you saying girls are selfish?” She jokes and I laugh.

“You’re twisting my words.” I smile.

“I’m a writer, get used to it.”

“Right, forgot you’re a professional word twister.” I say sarcastically.

Betty manages a smile but I can see that she is somewhat emotionally drained. “You don’t seem surprised.” She says but realises subsequently that I have no idea what she’s referring to. “About me being asexual.” I can tell the words are new even to her when she says them and I can’t help but wonder how she can be so confident in talking about herself and expressing her feelings, how she can be comfortable with using such a strong label.

“Well… I will begin by saying that I don’t usually assume things about other people’s sexualities. Although the idea… it hasn’t not occurred to me.” I pause to look for her reaction, when it doesn’t come I continue on. “And now that I know it’s clear… It’s in everything you do. It’s you.” I finish, completely unhappy with my feeble phrasing.

“I’ve had these fantasies about getting drunk and doing it just to get it over with. I’ve thought I was gay and I’ve thought that it came from my insecurities and that if I would just learn to love myself then I would get comfortable with loving someone else intimately. But lately, very recently actually, I’ve learned to accept it. Not stopped wishing things were different, but accepted it.” She blurts out all at once like a song.

My heart beats fast. I felt a rush at her words, or more precisely, at how well I identified with them. I want to tell her how much the same we are, but I find I simply can’t. Stating something, which I have been supressing for so long, is too much for me in this instance. I am not prepared for this. I look at her, trying to telepathically mediate what I feel instead. But she is no mind reader. Of that I’m sure.

“But you.” She begins. “You have a lot of… fans. Yet you never seem interested, why is that?” She queries.

“I guess it comes down to feeling like I don’t have anything to offer them. This notion that I won’t be able to give them what they want.” I sigh.

“And what is it that they want, do you think?” She looks into my eyes, really looks for the first time, not letting go. I’m scared she will see through me and I don’t quite hold her stare like I wish I could.

“I’m not sure.” I finally mutter, but it’s useless, she has already seen it in my eyes.

“Are you asexual?” She asks.

“No.” I say before I have time to think.

The quiet paves an audial way to the wind outside.

“I just think that sex is stupid.” I say. In retrospect the statement seems a little childish, but Betty gives me a doting smile.

“Then don’t be asexual, just let us share that opinion an all be well.” She says.

I briefly wonder about the time, but I soon come to find that that’s not where my real queries are. Once I’ve mustered enough courage I ask, “Do you like kissing?”

Her mouth twitches. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“You haven’t had sex either but you still know you don’t like that.”

“Fine.” She smiles. “I believe I do like kissing.” She covers her face in her hands fleetingly in an attempt to shelter herself from sheer awkwardness. The motion is small, but it sparks something inside me. The field of my vision slithers down to her lips.

“Would you like to try?” I ask in the darkness of her bedroom with a vulnerable tinge to my voice. I would be surprised by my own profoundness, but she isn’t this distant goal anymore. She’s a person, and we are on the same level.

“Okay.” She says, but she looks scared. “But I don’t know what to do.” She further explains.

“That’s okay.” I say impatiently. I move toward her, my breathing is slow. The truth is I don’t know either. I have no damn clue. But although missions often seem less intimidating while one has yet to embark upon them, only for you to find out they are a hell of a hassle, some of them are still worth pursuing and some of them you find out later to not be as intimidating as you thought.

When our lips meet I come to find that the latter is in this case true. What has for so long felt completely unobtainable, feels entirely natural with Betty. I take hold of her neck and she takes hold of mine and we pull each other closer. Her lips twitch into a smile, causing mine to do the same. We hold on to each other for as long as we can until we can hold our breaths no longer and fall back on our individual pillows, staring at the roof.

“That was good. But we have to try again.” Betty breathes.

I beam at her. “Again you say?”

“I’m sorry, but we have to use tongue I think. Otherwise it doesn’t count.” She says like it’s a matter of fact.

“Don’t apologize to me.” I say and lean in toward her again, there’s a newfound craving inside me to be close to her.

Right before our mouths meet she stops me. “Just be careful though.” She’s got her hand on my shoulder, which I like. “Don’t use too much tongue, it’s just supposed to skim the lips I think.”

I look at her lips while I whisper, “Fine.” I’ve found out recently that it’s my new favourite place of hers to look at.

She eventually releases her hold on my shoulder and I am free to lean in toward her, I do it as slowly as I can. I do believe that slow is key here. Sort of like a constructed pause in rhetoric’s. And just like tea it is not the way she tastes when I kiss her but the way she makes me feel inside. Sort of like everything is tingling. The only sounds that are heard come from the wind outside and out mouths moving together, figuring out along the way, how much of our tongues are needed.

“And so being young and dipt in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.”* I recite to her once we’ve drawn apart.

8 June 2017

* The poem is Romance by Edgar Allan Poe.

I’ve been sitting with this chapter for basically two days straight and would be very thankful for feedback even in the slightest form! Reblogs are also always nice.

Thanks to everyone who read along!

Dylan Klebold Rolling Playlist...

Post a song that perfectly captures the essence of Dylan Klebold for you personally, tag a couple of other people to add to it and reblog and halcyon on and on and on in musical BLISS.  Pretty soon we’ll have a interactive, growing Dylan Klebold Playlist created from our  very own Columbiner TCC Collective Consciousness. <3 :) 


When you select your song think about why percisely it reminds you of Dyl…

  • Do all or some of the lyrics capture him in some way?  
  • Does the musical melody or rhythm seem like him?  If so, why?
  • Is it a bit of both, the lyrics and the melody combined?
  • Can you remember when you first heard the song and having an epiphany that it it’s a perfect Dylan song?


  • Post your Dylan song in a youtube embedded video format.  
  • If the youtube video does not include the lyrics, and if the lyrics are an important component to the significance of your Dylan song, post the lyrics under a cut.   You can also post a spotify, soundcloud or other Tumblr approved audio clip of the song. However, youtube vids is the easiest/preferred format for most to experience your Dylan tune.  
  • Having been tagged, you may either reblog and post your song so that a handful of songs are reblogged on one post - that way people can build their Dyl playlist based off of your rec as well as a few reblogs of others recs -or- you can simply post as a standalone  especially if the reblog is getting to cumbersome - it’s entirely up to you. This is an experiment reblogging a string of songs on so if it’s too much to reblog so many, just start as a new post. .

    Just be sure that if you start up a new post to INCLUDE THESE GUIDELINES ALONG WITH IT.


TAG two or  three other people to keep the organic Dylan Playlist rolling along down the infinite Lost Highway of love. :) 


Fine. I’ll start then… ;) 

This song “Strange and Beautiful” by Aqualung reminds me of Dylan in it’s slow tempo and dreamy, floaty feeling and it’s perfect lyric of secret, unrequited love.  It’s a little tragic romantic like ‘Beautiful” by Smashing Pumpkins or “Creep” by Radiohead in it’s pining away sentiment.

It captures Dylan’s sense of invisibility to This Girl he loves so much and his longing for her and how “perfect” she’d be for him, his watching and endless waiting from the wings, his fantasizing and dreaming of her from afar and his hopes she will one day wake up to really see him, to realize the depth of his love for her. Infinitely spellbound..   

Sometimes the last thing you want comes in first
Sometimes the first thing you want never comes
But I know.. that waiting is all you can do, Sometimes…

 I tag h4le-bopp, thedragonrampant and thoughtsofhalcyon  :)


I’ve been asked a few times how to get a blog like this started! And so, here are some tips on how to get going! Always happy to answer questions if you have them! :) 

I’m going to speak from experience here, both as a blog browser & reader, and as someone who runs one of these things. This is my experience, and you can (and probably should) change it to be more you. The below tips are my two cents on how to get your content out and start to build followers!

1.) Ultimately, it has to be a fun, positive thing for you!
Make it your own. If it isn’t fun and turns out to be too much work, or feels like a chore, the blog, ideas, and writing will suffer and eventually it will show. So think carefully about what you want to get out of the experience. I caution against starting a blog just to try and gain a ton of followers. There is no guarantee that will happen and it really shouldn’t be the point to try and become ‘tumblr-famous’. So when you set out to begin, think about it like it would be just you, as if no one else would ever see it, and determine if it’s something you want to do for yourself!

2.) Decide on content and stick to it!
Is your blog going to be all Lucifer imagines? Many fandoms in one place? All one shots? Figure out what content you want to have and stick to it. This is important. People will be more likely to follow if there is a clear theme to what you are posting, because they can be more confident that what they’ll see on their dash is what they want. It’s okay to occasionally have a slightly off-topic post, but overall you will help people looking at your blog figure out what following would be like, before they even do it, if you stick to a narrowed type of content.

I know as a browser I almost never follow mishmash blogs, where the posts are seemingly random, just because I like to know what I’ll get. These eclectic blogs of course have their place (we all like to collect things we find on tumblr!), but I wouldn’t recommend it when starting a writing blog.

3.) Decide on how often you will post new content!
This is helpful for both you and your followers! Think about how busy you are and how often you will be able to post, and try to communicate this somewhere on your blog. Your followers will know how often they can expect new posts from you and you won’t be stressed out about having to force out content.

If things change and you get busier, that’s ok! Just let your followers know that you’ll be a little less active for a while. Consider queuing up some posts that will go up during your absence. And if you feel like you need a break, take one! This should be fun, not stressful, and sometimes we all need to step away from the computer. Again, just communicate with your followers so they know what’s up!

4.) To recruit followers, be consistently active, and tag the crap out of everything.
When I first started this blog, I posted a crap ton of imagines in a day. I was trying to get my content out and visible to the widest possible audience AND I was just really excited to be starting a fun blog. Once you start picking up a few followers, if they like what they see, they will help you grow by reblogging and liking your posts. 

According to some things I’ve seen, tumblr will only catalogue your first five tags, so make those count! Switch up the way you tag things a little to try and pull in new followers who may not be looking for the tags you’ve previously used. And make sure your tags are accurate. Don’t tag Lucifer posts as “Bobby Singer” or some such thing. It makes it harder for people to find what they’re looking for.

In addition, make sure your blog is easy to navigate. I suggest compiling lists of your content as you go such as a Master List and character lists. This way your followers can browse for what they want easily!

5.) Practice, practice, practice and edit, edit, edit!
Not everyone cares as much as I do about well-written and edited content, but to me this is important. Use proper spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and grammar to the best of your ability. This makes things easier to read and follow. And read over what you’ve written and look for errors! I try to go back to a story the day after I have posted it and I usually find little typos or things that need to be fixed. No one is perfect! But make your best effort.

As a reader, a poorly written/edited story is enough to make me not read it!
It’s amazing how your writing will change as you begin to do it more and more. It will get better and better! This is a bonus of doing one of these blogs. ☺

6.) Interact!
This is one of my favorite things about doing this. I get to interact with all my followers! Whether that is through exchanging messages, checking out their blogs (which incidentally, if you’re pretty active on my blog, the chances that I have creeped on yours are pretty high!), answering questions, or writing their requests, it makes your followers feel like part of a community and a family. It makes them feel valued, so show them that they are!

7.) Create an environment that you would want to be in! 

By this I mean one that will have people coming back for more. You can interpret this how you like, but for me this is a safe place, judgement free, and an opening, positive, welcoming blog.

I want to be approachable and friendly, and I hope that is clear to all of you who follow! This doesn’t mean being one dimensional though, we all have our own opinions and quirks, and you can still let those come through. I know I definitely do… and somehow you are all still here, which will never cease to amaze me. ;)

Thanks for reading, and I hope this was helpful to some of you! You are all so wonderful, and I’m so fortunate that I get to be part of such a kickass fandom!


Take some time to send some love to your favourite writers today. They really deserve it. Leave a comment on your favourite fic, drop a nice message in their ask box, anything!

I figured I would show a little love for some of my personal favourite writers in the fandom. I want to hear no drama over this, only love. (This fandom is absolutely full of amazing talent, and everybody deserves recognition for that, just let me shout out my faves for a hot minute guys <3) 

@that-vicious-vixen  (on ao3 here) ❤️

Alley is such an absolute sweetheart who gives out some great advice, has some great hair, and writes some great fics. (congrats on the upcoming wedding btw, you deserve all the happiness ^.^) 

You should read:

  • Tinder and Flint (Emperor Hux, awesome, one of the first fics I fell in love with in this fandom) 
  • Out of the Ashes (Resistance!Ben is brought aboard the Finalizer, Hux breaks him out, super interesting look into Hux’s psychology) 

@solohux​ (on ao3 here) ❤️

Actual saviour of the fandom with weekly rec lists, heartbreaking/adorable gif sets, and some of the best omegaverse fic in the fandom. She really makes an effort with Fic Rec Thursdays to make sure that a lot of lesser known fic and writers get the recognition they deserve. If the fandom was entirely made up of chill people like solohux who keeps her cool when silly anons try to come for her, we would have no drama and everyone would be holding hands in a field watching a beautiful sunset whilst reading kylux fic.

You should read:

@bettydays (on ao3 here) ❤️

Betts has written us all several god damn awesome novel length fics that are beautifully written, and has remained an all around sweetheart even when dealing with some seriously undeserved bullshit. In particular Ace of Spades has made me cry, Honeycomb made me feel all of the emotions, and I’ve read Something About Volcanoes at least 10 times and find something new I love about it each time. Her original fiction is awesome too, so if you get a chance to read it you 100% should!

You should read:

  • Honeycomb (Sugar Daddy Hux and broke student Kylo. This fic is such a fandom classic for a reason. Go read it!)
  • Something About Volcanoes (Modern fake relationship AU where Ben takes Hux to a family wedding in Hawaii, the characterisation is flawless)
  • Ace of Spades (Angsty High School AU that makes my heart hurt in both a good way and a bad way :’) ) 

@minzimpression (on ao3 here) ❤️

10/10 adorable human with an awesome blog who writes some rad as heck fic. Go read everything they’ve written on ao3, like right now. Go do it. Comment too while you’re there :’).

You should read:

  • Hotline Bling (Hot damn this fic oh man. Hux texts the wrong number for a dick pic. Hilarity and next level sexual tension ensues. I love this fic)
  • Hope is a waking dream (Soulmate AU where you dream about your soulmate’s life when you’re asleep. Read this immediately)
  • Sweet Home Arkanis (co-authored with @gefionne​) (An AU that’s based on an early 2000s romantic comedy where Hux needs a divorce from his childhood sweetheart Ben so he can get remarried.)

@gefionne (on ao3 here) ❤️

Listen man/girl/non binary pal. Listen. Gefionne’s writing is rad as hell and you need to go and read it right now. Parchment and Vellum is my absolute new favourite thing. Librarian Hux is all I have ever needed in my life. A+ human who writes A+ fic. Go and show ‘em some love! 

You should read:

  • Parchment and Vellum (Librarian Hux and Grad student Kylo. I love this. The sexual tension is perfect. There’s library sex. What more do you need from fiction? Nothing.)
  • In A Place Where No One Appeared (Post TFA fic where Hux takes Kylo to his childhood home to recover after Starkiller. Feelings happen. This is perfect, it’s one of my fandom faves)
  • (also Sweet Home Arkanis, but I already mentioned that one haha.) 

@celloing (on ao3 here) ❤️

Celloing’s writing gives me all of the emotions, and it’s not often that writers have the talent to do that, so I would definitely recommend that you all check her stuff out. (She’s also adorable. I may have creeped on your instagram, sorry :’) ) 

You should read:

  • (Wasn’t) Made For These Times (The bittersweet 70s AU I didn’t know I needed. I love the characterisation and the tone of this. Totally recommend it, grab tissues first though.) 
  • Vitas Brevis, Ars Longa (College AU with teacher Hux and student Kylo. The slow burn sexual tension kills me. Read it though, it kills me in a good way.) 
  • Spare The Rod, Spoil the Child (Daddy Kink and spanking and humiliated Kylo. If that’s checking any boxes for you, then you absolutely need to read this.) 

@brawlite (on ao3 here❤️

Listen, brawlite’s writing is phenomenal on so many levels. From the flawless integration of a dating app into the Star Wars universe in ordr to the beautiful poetic prose of from the landscape: a sense of scale to the flawless spooky tension in what’s real or isn’t

You should read:

  • from the landscape: a sense of scale (Boarding school AU. This is genuinely captivating and beautifully written in a way a lot of published novels aren’t. Sidenote, I hate that bloody Tennyson poem, but this made me hate it a little less :’) 
  • ordr (This is such a fandom staple that it’s hard to find anyone who hasn’t read it, but if it’s somehow passed anybody by, you need to read this. It’s the perfect blend of fun silliness and flawlessly done smut. 

@cracktheglasses (on ao3 here❤️ 

I spent a weekend re-reading through some of my ao3 bookmarks a while ago and I ended up reading a load of these fics again and I was struck by how realistic I find the characterisation to be, whether it’s a modern AU or a canon based fic it’s equally genuine and appealing. 

You should read: 

  • once I could see (now I am blind) (This is described as Evil Hurt/Comfort in the tags, which I feel could honestly be the tagline of the entire fandom at this point)
  • Be a Body (God damn this is hot. Like super hot, oh my. If slutty Hux and anonymous bathroom hookups are your jam, then this is your jam)

@katherine1753 (on ao3 here❤️

If you read nothing else on this whole list, please read Matches and Flames. I’m a bit fussy when it comes to the whole soulmates concept, but in the case of this fic it’s amazingly well put together and I can’t recommend it enough. I get genuinely excited when I get emails from ao3 to say this has updated. Everything this author writes is adorable and wonderful. 

You should read:

  • Matches and Flames (Modern soulmate AU, with so much miscommunication that I want to bash Kylo and Hux’s heads together. It’s great fun though, and this has the perfect blend of fluff and angst) 
  • That’ll Cost You (Adorable fluffy stuff with clingy sleepy Kylo. My heart melted. *chin hands*)

List done! I had to draw the line somewhere. If I included every kylux writer I love on one post, the post would be so huge it would break your dashboards. Please remember that just because you don’t get loads of notes on tumblr on your drabbles immediately or it takes a while for you to get comments and kudos on ao3, it doesn’t mean that your writing isn’t good or you aren’t valuable to this fandom. You can always ask me to check out your stuff or stuff that you liked and you don’t think gets enough recognition, and I’ll totally add it to a rec list if I like it <3 


UR NOT LEAVING!, tumblr user zelo/jay’s 2k16 version of please don’t leave me, aka a follow forever for my favorite blogs and a few people I call friends. I have amazingly almost reached 24k followers while being here??? what kind of blasphemy??? anyways, thank you for making my dashboard both beautiful and meme-full, both wonderful and painful. Thank you for making my blogging experience here such a great one. Have the cutest day.

Keep reading

Merry Christmas ! 

Thank you all so much for supporting me in my time here, I really wouldn’t be here without all of you. You all mean so much to me and I wish I could express that more than in a bunch of words. There’s so many of you here, and I wish I could go to you one by one, but because I can’t I’ve made way with a big long bias list like this. I hope we continue to be close for many days to come ! So, to celebrate a happy holiday, and a landmark of 333 followers, onto the read more!

Keep reading

Tied Up [Part 2]

Sequel to BusinessMan!Derek and CollegeStudent!Stiles

because I’m a slave to Torah’s whims

“Do you often catcall people in suits?” Derek asked, a lot less uptight now that he wasn’t entirely out of his comfort zone in the middle of a park, having been jeered at by a spiky haired college student.

They were now sat in a nice little restaurant of Derek’s choosing, which was a much classier place than Stiles would have brought them considering Stiles frequented a local diner primarily for their curly fries. 

“You’re the first, Suit.” Stiles winked, stretching out in his comfortable chair as he got a feel for the environment. He was glad he dressed up for the date. He was still wearing jeans but he was also sporting a black button down shirt, no tie, although he had considered a bowtie, and he actually did something with his hair instead of letting his bedhead take control.

Derek, however, was wearing another fine pair of dress pants for an even finer ass that he was currently sitting on and keeping out of view. It was a crime, naturally. But most importantly, his light blue button down shirt was topped off with a dark striped tie in a passable half Windsor knot.

Keep reading

2016 Ghost Hunt Fandom Weekend!

Do you want to make your second weekend in April something that transcends human understanding, or perhaps for the more analytical of us something that at least deviates from the natural?

Then join us for our inaugural Ghost Hunt Fandom Weekend!

How to have a hauntingly good time?

First things first, make sure you follow @gh-exchange so you can participate and get all of our updates.

Would you love Ghost Hunt fanwork created for you? Of course you would!

Then sign up for our:

 Ghost Writer/Artist media exchange!

Rules: You must give in order to receive. This is an exchange, so signing up means you are willing to create something for your client. It really is obvious, but it’s always important to spell it out.

Ghost Writer/Artist: you are a ghost, your haunting can vary in intensity, but should remain anonymous. That is part of the fun.

Final Minimums: Fics must be 1,000 words + and art must be more than one sketch.

Step 1: Sign up for the GH Ghost Writer/Artist media exchange!

You will sign up for the exchange via a submission form. Sign ups will be from January 19th- February 2nd. Keep an eye on your dash for the submission form on the 19th. 

On this form you will provide information both on what you will like to give as well as receive. 

  1. Your tumblr name. This is important for a litany of reasons not the least being so your ghost writer/artist can creep on you to get a better idea of what you want or annon message you to more directly try to get info. And definitely not so we can make tumblr hitogatas of everybody.
  2. What type or types of media you would like to receive
  3. A small prompt for the subject of the media. Don’t get your case rejected, so please keep it at least semi-professional guys.
  4. What type or types of media you are willing/able to create

Using a number of spreadsheets and a complex algorithm we will match a Ghost Writer/Artist with their client.  We will contact everyone to let them know who their client is and what has been requested. You will get your prompts Feb 3-5 depending on how long it takes us to take care of the maths.

Step 2: Get to work, this isn’t a cafe!

Last day to drop out is February 28th. Anyone who loses their specter or client will be provided with the assistance of a gifted medium to search for a new match.

Check-ins/Reminders will go out: March 2nd and again April 2nd.

Step 3: Post and submit your completed gifts to the exchange blog making sure to mention/tag your client so they know their gift has arrived. The exorcism is set for the weekend of April 9-10 so make sure you have your affairs in order by then.

BUT WAIT! There’s more!

To help get everyone into the spirit of things, keep an eye out for us on your dash prior to April.

We will be offering up additional fic prompts, some fic reviews/recommendations, and general conversation about the series in the weeks leading up. Please feel free to submit your own prompts, reviews/recs, topic ideas to the exchange blog!

Be sure to ask the exchange blog if there’s any questions!

And please share this with your friends! 

Hi Guys! So I quickly expanded THIS fic tag drabble I did earlier as tumblr cut off the last half. A couple people liked it and I got a lovely message from @burnnmyhearttout bribing me with in n out to write it lol, so I expect payment when you make it out west Alicia. ;) and massive thanks to @ililypop for her advice as I was conflicted on how I wanted to end it. I hope you all enjoy!

Forever taglist: @nemo-miracle-grow @areyousad8118 @thisissomefreshbullshit @luckyemcee @mmfdiaryfan @murderyoursoul @kristicallahan @irish-girl-84 @sey77 @bebelievelive @justagirlnamedkayla @i-love-mmfd @anitavalija @stephsadickhead @milymargot @busstop @ililypop @pink-royaute@lolflash @youmehellofarollercoasterride @curvygirlonabudget @mellamoaiko @inneedofamoralcompass @paleasalabaster @mmfdfanfic @mallyallyandra @lethallylauren @finnleysraemundo @pissingonursoul @losingpudge @bitchy-broken @fuckintentshop @audisodd @darlingdiver @fantasticab @celestev31 @myfinnnelsonpls @rinncincin @tinakegg @ducky17 @katywright340 @bitcheslovebeck @raernundo @nutinanutshell @cant-getno-sleep @courtkismet @omgbananasnailus @i-dream-of-emus @guyoverboard @anglophileyoungblood @swooningfangirl @bitchesbecrazy89 @chrryblsms @girlwithafoxhat @annemarieted @sammylbc  @sarahlouise88ni @denaceleste @how-ardently​ @idontliketalkingtoanybody @mmfdblog @phoenixflow @penguinsandbowties @fizzezlikecherrycola @fangirlwithoutshame @africancreativity @alyssaloca @llexis @thatfunnygirllauren @cheersmedear @14000romances @rred87 @nirvanalove27 @takenbyatree @im-an-emu @shashaaussi @mirandasmadeofstone @lililuvlight @flxwxry @slitherouter @saracasm25 @becauseyouarestrong @malvaloca93 @happyfrasers @vmellow @scumothaearff @wandering-soul-7 @hewittgolightly @emmatationsforall @ninjarunningzico @arcticoasisboy @milllott @rafaellabnery @endemictoearth @oscarworthyperformance @blackfeministagenda @fxckyoubruhhh @lilaviolet @dianasaurousrexxx @kathhumphreysx @eighty-sixcharlie @flirtmcgirt @nenita1978 @crystalgiddings1993 @mydiaryofemus @facephase @blobwithagob @freyasfrench @luly310 @cosiquellocheora @stinemarine @ljsbetterthanyesterday @borntochaos @likeashootingstarfades @isthistherightwayround @toseeyou-again @emu4ever @carpe-libris @voodoomarie as always please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :D


Will You Still Love Me in the Morning?

Keep reading

hijacked-dandelions  asked:

Write a one-shot where Katniss gets anonymous tumblr valentine cards asking her to prom :)

hijacked-dandelions requested a specific Valentine’s Day drabble, and being the slacker that I am, I only got up to the last section before I realized I was moving and hadn’t packed a thing. So I posted the first part, which you can read here, then the second part, which you can read here, now I’ve combine the two in the prompt request! It is unbetad, so please forgive my errors.

The card(s) I reference can be found in this post by alljaneaustenallthetime. Thank you for making such brilliant cards! (And running a lovely blog to boot!) And the other one hijacked-dandelions tagged me in here. I do not own any of the Hunger Games, Jane Austen, Harry Potter, or the after mentioned cards. Or Princess Diaries, or any of the mentioned songs and artists.

It’s a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’

February 1st.

Katniss grimaced as she slowly turned her calendar to the new month, the date staring back at her.

The month of love had officially begun.

Grumbling unintelligible words as her phone buzzed in her back pocket, she glared at the text message notification.

Madge. Great. This’ll be good.

Madge: Soooooo….. Any plans for vday?!

Katniss rolled her eyes before typing her reply.

Katniss: Madge. I *just* turned my calendar over. Chill.

It wasn’t long after she sent the message that there was a reply. Katniss sighed as she sat down on the floor in front of the calendar, knowing any attempt at an activity would be futile due to rapid fire texts.

Madge: Oh, come on. Please tell me you have plans!

Katniss: Madge.

Madge: Please, please, please….

Katniss: You are being ridiculous.

Madge: Please??????????

Katniss: Fine. I have plans. I’m cutting my hair.

Madge: Oh hell no!

Just as Katniss expected her phone began to ring in record time with an incoming call.

Smiling as she answered, Katniss had to hold the phone away from her ear because of Madge’s yelling.

“You are not cutting your hair! Your hair is beautiful! I want your hair! You cut your hair, so help me…. I will dye my hair pink!”


“What?!” She sounded exasperated, like Katniss had been poking her with a stick.

“I’m not cutting my hair.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Madge sounded like she had just been cured of a disease.

“I also have no plans.”


“I am perfectly content to sit on my couch and eat as much ice cream as I please while watching Game of Thrones by myself.”


“I will not conform to this stupid holiday made up by greeting card companies.”

Madge sighed. “What if someone asks you to the dance?”

“That is over two whole weeks away.”

“So you still have plenty of time!”

“Good bye, Madge.”


“I’m getting ready for school. I will see you soon!” She ended the call even though Madge was still talking. Rising to go take a shower, she glowered at the calendar. I hate February.


Katniss arrived at her locker to find Madge already at hers, conveniently located right beside her own.

As she spun the wheel to unlock the door, Madge looked at her with a mischievous smile.

Her lock clicking, Katniss looked at her friend cautiously, fearing whatever may lie waiting for her behind the locker door. “What?”

“You have a secret admirer.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw him slip something in your locker right before I got here.”


“I’m not saying.” Her smile was practically giddy.


Madge slammed her own locker shut, clicking the lock. “Oh, come on. He’s a good guy. If it were a creep would I be so deliriously happy for you, Miss Anti-Cupid?”

Katniss shook her head in disbelief, mimicking Madge in a mocking tone as she opened the locker door. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t wince slightly, expecting something terrible.

But all she found was one of those ridiculous Valentine’s Day cards that were floating around tumblr. She had reblogged a set she deemed decent enough - A series of Jane Austen cards.

So not only was he an admirer, he was a stalker.

She chuckled as she read over the card despite herself. It was a picture of Captain Wentworth from Persuasion that said, “Fall for me and I’ll catch you this time.”

Above the text it said, “To: Katniss” and below it read, “From: ?”

Flipping it over she saw a poem written in scrolling font.

Let’s play a game,
Can you guess who I am?
If you don’t then I loose,
If you do, I’m a lucky man.

The next few cards,
Will each hold a part,
Of a riddle with the answer,
To the name of this beating heart.

Man, this stinks,
I swear they’ll get better.
Till then, I’ll bid you adieu,
And hope you can wait until the next letter.


I swear I’m not crazy.

“Awwww!” Katniss jumped at the proximity of Madge’s voice, glaring at her as she rested her chin on Katniss’ shoulder. “He’s such a dork.”


The next day, Katniss opened her locker to find another card.

It was the second card from the same set on tumblr. A picture of Mr. Knightly from Emma that said, “I’d let you send out the invitations for my strawberry-picking party.” Addressed the same way - “To: Katniss, From: ?”

Flipping it over she found another poem.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I hear someone,
Has a crush on you.

I like to laugh,
I like to paint,
And if you want to know more,
You’ll just have to wait.

Katniss discreetly looked over each shoulder to see if someone was staring too intently, watching for a response.

She sighed when no one stood out, biting her lip to hide her smile. He knew her well enough to know she hated waiting.


The next day another card was waiting for her, this time making her smile.

“Ooooo! I wanna see!” Madge bounced on her toes beside Katniss.

This one was Edward Ferrars from Sense and Sensibility and said, “I must speak to you about my education.”

Katniss laughed out loud, snorting at the confused look Madge had.

Flipping it over she found the next clue.

You give in?
You ready to quit?
No? Didn’t think so.
You enjoy my sharp wit.

Seeing you smile,
With each card you find,
Makes my troubles melt away,
And leave all my worries behind.

“Oh, gosh. He’s such a dweeb.” Katniss glared at Madge. “What? Don’t tell me you are enjoying this, Katniss. I won’t allow it.” Madge winked at her, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Katniss looked back down at the card with a small smile. “I do. I’ll allow it.”


Katniss practically ran to her locker the next morning, surprised to see the letter already waiting for her inside.

“I think you are starting to have a crush,” Madge said, a sly smile on her face.

Katniss rolled her eyes and studied the card. It was Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice and said, “You’re handsome enough to tempt me.”

She chuckled lightly.

“Someone came up with an Austen set of those, huh?” a deep voice said from behind her.

Spinning around, wide eyed, she came face-to-chest with Peeta Mellark. Quickly tossing the card back into her locker, she blushed furiously, examining the floor with a scowl. “Ah, yeah. They are all over tumblr.”

“‘Tumblr’?” Peeta raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

“Yeah. A blogging site.”

“Oh, yeah! I have gotten a few recipes off of there, come to think of it. I just see the other cards friends show me. Finnick gave me one the other day with a picture of Neville from Harry Potter that said, ‘I long for your bottom.’”

Katniss snorted a laugh, covering it quickly with a cough.

Peeta smiled. Gesturing toward the card while walking backwards, “I think someone wrote something on the back for you.” And with that he turned and left.

Well, that was…. Odd.

Ducking as far into her locker as possible, she flipped the card over.

Good friends,
Are closer than you think.
And best friends,
Well, I’ll just end that with a wink.

We’re half way done with the set,
Oh no! What will we do?
I’ve got something planned,
But the question is, do you?


Card number five came the next day, but it didn’t show up until the last bell rang.

She sat through Mr. Abernathy’s class, still nothing.

Ms. Trinket - Nope.

Lunch - Nada.

Mr. Cinna - Zilch.

She had noticed Peeta wander in at lunch, limping slightly, and wearing long sleeves despite the weather. Other than that, her day was pretty uneventful ‘till she had given up all hope, only to find it there at the end of the day. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding until now.

This card was Mr. Elton from Emma, and read, “Your muslin would look even prettier on the floor.”

She smiled, wondering why this one, the one that caused her to blush the most also made her feel the best. Relieved almost. She flipped it over.

Sorry I was late,
Guess I got a little lazy.
I’m still not really sure,
Because with you, everything’s hazy.

Only three more left,
And you’ll have to wait ‘till Monday,
But you don’t mind, do you?
You look great today, by the way.


It was Saturday and also apparently the weekend that wouldn’t end.

Madge had some how coerced her in watching Princess Diaries 1 & 2.

Half way through the first one, Madge excused herself to the restroom when her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Katniss glanced at it to see none other than Peeta Mellark’s name.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she slid her thumb on the screen to unlock the phone.

Peeta: What’cha doin’?

Katniss worried her lip, debating whether to let it sit, or let him know Madge was away.

Katniss: Hey, it’s Katniss. Madge stepped out of the room for a minute. We’re just watching some chick flicks.

Peeta: Katniss Everdeen watches chick flicks? Well color me surprised!

Katniss: Ha-Ha. I’m just here for the free popcorn.

Peeta: What, no pastries? Movie night with no pastries? That’s like….. Like…. Movie night without pastries!

Katniss smiled.

Katniss: Ya don’t say?

Peeta: I’m fixing this. Give me 30 minutes.

Katniss: Is Peeta Mellark bringing baked goods to watch a chick flick?

Peeta: As a matter of fact I am. Just one question.

Katniss: What?

Peeta: Chocolate or vanilla?


Monday rolled around and Katniss practically sprinted to her locker, posters on the wall waving in her wake.

I’m Katniss Everdeen. I don’t do this. I’m a Senior in high school and I’m acting like I’m in elementary school. she chided herself, but quickly disregard her inner voice.

Today’s card was a different Frederick Wentworth from a different Emma and Emma, that read, “Wish I were cuddling with you.”

This poem was shorter.

Only two left!
Gasp! Can it be?
Bet you still don’t know,
Who in the hell is “me”.


It wasn’t until two days later that the next card came.

It was the Captain Wentworth from the first one, and said, “You’re a little altered, but I still know it’s you.”

I hear there is a dance this Saturday.
Are you going to go?
Because if you are,
I sure would like to know.


The last one came two days later on Friday, and was of Mr. Collins from a different Pride and Prejudice, saying, “Just let me tell you what we could achieve through intercourse.”

Katniss laughed out loud, remembering that awkward scene. It was one of her favorites.

At the dance tomorrow,
Meet me at midnight.
Up on the roof,
The stars our only light.


Katniss read over the line over and over again.

At the dance tomorrow,
Meet me at midnight.
Up on the roof,
The stars our only light.

“That is tomorrow!” Madge nearly screamed at Katniss.

“I know,” Katniss glowered at her friend.

“We have to get you a dress! And shoes! And makeup!”


“No.” She held a finger up in front of Katniss’ face, causing her to go a little cross eyed as she glared at it. “We are going shopping. No ‘if’s, ‘and’s, or ‘but’s.”

“Fine,” Katniss huffed. Resistance was futile.

“And you are going to look damn good.”


As if the parade of the endless pile of dresses Madge had shoved into her hands wasn’t bad enough, Gale had tagged along.

Sure, he was Madge’s boyfriend, and sure he was Katniss’ oldest friend, but that’s not why he was here. No. He had heard that Katniss was going shopping for a dress and he cut Madge off with a mischievous look at Katniss. “Katnip? In a dress? Oh, I’ve gotta see this.”

And he didn’t even get bored. He seemed to enjoy it.

Katniss would come out after putting on the next atrocity on a hanger Madge had sent in with her, and she and Gale would judge it like a game show.

“Eh, I don’t know, Madge. That much leg showing is hot, but the neck line is all wrong.”

“Yeah…. And I don’t really like the color on you, Katniss. Sorry! Next!”

Katniss rolled her eyes as she stalked back into the tiny room, smiling despite herself once the door was locked. Her friends were having fun. Even if it was at her expense, their smiles made up for it.

The next one she walked out in, she was tugging at the strapless top self consciously, stilling suddenly and looking up when she didn’t hear the immediate commentary.

She was greeted by dumbstruck faces.

“That bad, huh?”

“No, that good. Katnip, you’re breathtaking.”

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she turned to Madge, her scowl quickly melting into raised eyebrows in surprise.

"If you don’t buy that dress, Katniss, I’m gonna kill you.”


She had walked around in the heels Madge had picked out the rest of that night.

She was finally getting the hang of it, strutting down the hall in confidence when she passed her little sister’s open door, stilling just passed the entryway, and walking backwards with her eyebrows knit together.

“Why are you smiling?”

Prim just grinned back at her. “What’s his name?”

Her scowl deepened as she turned toward her sister. “Who?”

“Katniss Everdeen is in high heels with a dress in a bag slung over her arm the day before a dance. There has gotta be a reason.”

Katniss glanced down at the dress that was indeed over her arm. She was on her way to hang it up when Prim’s twinkly eyes had stopped her. She felt a blush coming on, and couldn’t shrug the small smile. “Oh, you noticed?”

“You’re walking like an elephant. Yes. I noticed.”

Katniss snapped her head back up to look at her sister, her eyes wide. “I walk like an elephant?”

“Not anymore. Don’t worry. You’re figuring it out. Want me to help you? Years of dance class finally paid off.”

Shrugging and nodding a small nod, Katniss held up the dress. “You like it?”

Prim’s smile was the brightest yet. “I love it. Just don’t go getting any cooties on it. Now, come on, my Elephant friend. And before you make any jokes, I may be your Little Duck, but I do not walk like one.”


Before slipping into the dress, Katniss glanced at the tag. Cinna Designs. Well, this Cinna sure knew what the hell he was doing.

Her mother helped her zip up the back and met her eyes in their reflection in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Katniss.”

Katniss looked down at her feet as she wiggled on her heels. “Mom, you have to say that.”

“But I don’t.” Her father appeared in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

“Give it to me straight, dad.”

“You sure?”

Katniss nodded, wincing when her hair pulled tight as her mother braided it into a fancy updo.

“You are not pretty.” He took a step into the room, Katniss beginning to narrow her eyes at him. “You are not beautiful.” She was full on scowling now. He was within an arms distance now, and he reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, giving a small squeeze. “You are as radiant as the sun.”

She smiled at her father’s softly spoken words. Glancing up to her mother once again in the reflection, she saw her hair was done and her mother had backed away, tears brimming in her eyes despite her smile she had tucked away under her hand.

Looking at her reflection, she hardly recognized herself.

The floor length red satin gown was very form fitting, had a strapless, sweetheart neck line, and a slit up the left side that stopped mid thigh, showing off the shoes Madge had spent an hour picking out, and flowing into a small train at the back.

As much as she looked like a stranger, beneath all the makeup and hairspray, she still saw what her father saw. Her spark. Her fire. Herself.


It was a quarter to midnight, and Katniss tapped her foot anxiously from her seat at the table.

She had turned down about a dozen requests to dance. Put on a dress and watch ‘em drool, Madge had said after the fifth request.

She was about to make her way up to the roof early when someone tapped her shoulder.

She steeled herself, promising she wouldn’t yell and make the poor guy cry like she had to Cato.

She turned around expecting Sleaze ball number thirteen, but instead was greeted by the kind blue eyes of Peeta Mellark.

“I love this song,” he grinned down at her, his lopsided smile making her stomach do funny things.

“Yeah, me too.” She didn’t even hear a song, her heart was beating so wildly. Slowly she heard Taylor Swift’s ‘How You Get The Girl’ playing it’s closing notes and fading into ‘Something Stupid’ sung by Michael Bublé and Reese Witherspoon.

He held out his hand to her, placing the other behind his back, bowing slightly at the waist. “Care to dance, m’lady?”

That stupid grin. Those stupid eyes. This wonderful man.

“Yes.” She took his hand with a small, shy smile.

They made their way to the dance floor, swaying to the song, the appropriate distance from one another. He didn’t try to pull her close like Darius had. That was the first and last dance she had accepted until now.

Until now.

She felt herself melting into him, laying her head over his heart and listening to it’s beat. She felt him rest his chin on the top of her head and she smiled.

She began to hum along absentmindedly, stopping once she caught herself.

“Please don’t stop,” his voice vibrated in her ear.

“What?” Her voice was small, timid even.

“I love when you sing.”

She pulled back, looking up into his eyes. “When have you heard me sing?”

Was that a blush?

“Ah. Well, uh. This is going to sound stalkerish and ruin the whole mood, but when we were five.”


“Yeah. Here at school.”

Katniss simply nodded, changing the subject as she tucked into his chest once again. “I have a secret admirer. I’m used to ‘stalkerish’.”

He tensed slightly then chuckled. “I don’t think that is ‘stalkerish’.”

“Then what do you think it is?”

“Exactly what the lyrics of this song are. Essentially the person has all these ideas, all these plans, and wants you in them, but you are such a big part of their life, they don’t want to ruin even the start of something by saying something stupid…. Like I love you.”


Katniss had laughed as he had sung the last words along with the song before glancing at a clock and seeing it was thirty seconds to midnight.

After they parted ways she quickly sprinted up the stairs and to the roof, dodging the janitor along the way.

She was alone when she got there.

A minute passed.


Three, four, five.

Her heart began to sink when something hit her shoulder. Looking down at the ground surrounding her, she felt a ping again. And again.

Someone was tossing pebbles up at her.

She stormed over to the edge, expecting it to be Gale. “You’re aim sucks-“

She stopped short when she saw Peeta grinning from ear to ear with a handful of pebbles.

Looking both ways before using an exaggerated whisper, Peeta held his arms wide as he looked up at her. “Rapunzle, Rapunzle, with hair so divine, come down to me; climb down the vine!”

He’s stealing lines from the movies we watched at Madge’s. Two can play at that game.

She glanced at the vine covered wall, before looking back to him with a smirk. “The feat you ask, dear sir, isn’t easy. And I won’t fall for that line; it’s far too cheesy.”

He held up a picnic basket. “I have cheese buns.”

She bit her lip while she debated. Finally tossing her shoes down, she grinned. “Give me a minute.”

When she landed on both feet on the ground, she turned to face a disappointed looking Peeta.


“You didn’t fall like she did in the movie.”

She hesitated. “No. I’m much less clumsy than she is.”

“No, well, yes, but, no, you see I wanted to catch you and then quote one of those silly cards I gave you and say, ‘Fall for me and I’ll catch you this time.’.”

Katniss smiled.

“What?” Peeta looked baffled.

“You were gonna say something stupid…. Like I love you.”