I’m writing all of these, I swear
"we wore matching halloween costumes to this party" au
Derek flings his arms around her and stumbles a bit, almost pulling them both to the ground.
She manages to keep them upright, pats him on the chest. “I missed you too, babe.”
She barely hears the amused snort over the sound of Thriller blasting out of Penelope’s speakers. “I’m guessing tall, dark, and handsy belongs to you, then?”
Elle laughs, turns to her boyfriend. “Derek, what did you do?”
He grins excitedly, turns her towards the other girl. “Look, Ellie, I found your twin!”
He’s actually not exaggerating. Beyond having the same Catwoman costume, she and the girl could be sisters. Same hair color, same complexion, same build.
She grins at the girl apologetically. “Do I want to know how my idiot boyfriend earned that nickname?”
The girl cracks a grin. “Probably not.”
"I’m Elle, by the way," she says, holding out her hand, which the girl shakes briefly.
"I gathered that," she says. "I’m Emily."
"Nice to meet you, Emily." She turns to say something to Derek, and notices that, in the minute she and Emily have been talking, he’s wandered off again.
She turns back to Emily, a plan already forming in her mind. “So, twin, want to help me mess with Derek’s head?”
Congratulations!! You got mail !!!.. Pup-mail that is!!!
I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS
and i know that i can survive; i’ll walk through fire to save my life
Finally, she didn’t miss an important occasion of her daughter.
Snow and Charming, A+ parenting
Can we talk about how happy Emma must have been to find her parents waiting up for after the date?
WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT FOR ALL OF ETERNITY.
MORE CHARMING FAMILY MOMENTS PLEASE.
She’s going to kill her roommates.
Apparently, all it takes for her so-called bffs to ditch her on “Girls’ Night Out” are a few hot frat boys with fake ids.
So now she’s standing outside the bar, trying to figure out how she’s getting back to her dorm. The buses stopped running an hour ago, her phone is dead, and Allison is the only one of her roommates that has a car.
She’s checking her clutch for loose change (she thinks there’s a working payphone down the block) when a guy comes out of the bar and stops beside her.
Her hand closes around her pepper spray as she eyes him cautiously. He’s older, and actually looks kind of familiar (a professor? grad student maybe?). He glances over at her and grins. He’s trying to put her at ease, but she’s met too many nice guys to let her guard down.She steps away from him, tries to surreptitiously move her pepper spray to her jacket pocket.
A quick once over tells her that her pepper spray and limited knowledge of self defense wouldn’t help much if he decided to grab her. He’s tall, has close to six inches on her, and he’s big. Especially his arms. He’s pretty hot, too. She’s probably be drooling over him if they weren’t alone on a street corner at night.
"I’m not going to hurt you," he says, and he sounds sincere. Only, she can’t get her mom’s voice out of her head. You’ll catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar, Katie.
"I’m not scared of you," she says, but her voice wavers. The confidence isn’t there.
He puts a little more distance between them. “I’m Rick,” he says, holding his hand out to her.
"Johanna," she replies, giving him the briefest of smiles.
"You here by yourself, Johanna?" he asks.
She shakes her head. “Nope, one of my friends is inside,” she says, gesturing towards the bar. “And my boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nods. “Just waiting for a cab myself.”
Less than five minutes later, a taxi is pulling up to the curb. The guy looks at the cab, then at her. “You don’t actually have a ride coming, do you?”
She sighs, shakes her head. He nods slowly, pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to her. “Take it,” he says, nodding to the cab.
"You’re sure?" she asks softly.
He nods again. “Better me out here all by myself than you.”
"Thanks," she says, giving him a small smile as she gets in the cab. She gives the cabbie her address, and then turns in her seat so she can watch him fade into the distance.
send me a (ridiculously cliched) au + a pairing and get a drabble/ficlet
so I may or may not be cheating and setting this in the Set Fire to the Rain ‘verse…also I think it’s angstier than you were hoping for whoops
He was right when he’d told his father that Phoenix was off her game. She’s slower, more hesitant, keeps her distance as often as she can (the fire whips really help with that, he has to admit…and they’re pretty badass…and they hurt like hell).
But he’s got new toys, too. Flexible metal gauntlets that fit more like gloves. He’d joked one day that a Raven should have talons, and voila. The jointed claws extended past his fingertips, making him feel like Freddy Krueger or Wolverine.
One of her whips wraps around his arm, but he ignores the burning, uses the whip to pull her in close. He drives his talons into her stomach, and her eyes go wide, her mouth dropping open.
"Oh," she whispers, dropping to her knees, his hand still buried in her gut. He can feel her blood running down his wrist, and has to fight flashbacks to Montgomery’s funeral, Kate’s blood slick and warm against his hands as she fought for life.
He kneels so that his face is level with Phoenix’s. He wants to look into her eyes as he finally unmasks the woman responsible for his daughter’s death.
His hand comes up, and he tugs her mask off with surprising ease. And immediately wishes he hadn’t.
"Kate," he whispers, his heart sinking into his stomach. "No. No, it can’t be." A tear falls, and he goes to brush it away, but she flinches, shies away from the metal covering his hand.
He rips his own mask off, uses his teeth to pull the gauntlet off his hand. She’s dying. Kate’s dying again, and he needs her to not be afraid.
He cradles her head in his free hand, guides her eyes back to him. “Kate,” he says. “Kate, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He brushes her tears away, kisses her softly. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”
"Castle?" It’s all she can manage before her eyes roll back and she goes limp.
Oh god. What has he done?
A blue and bronze blur whizzes past Kate, and she has to execute a dizzying spin to keep from falling off her broom.
When she rights herself, she’s not surprised to see Ricky Castle grinning smugly from across the pitch.
Pretentious asshole. What’s even worse is that, despite his bulk, he’s just as good of a seeker as she is.
He doesn’t have the snitch though. Not yet. But, then again, neither does she. And that was his goal.
She smirks as a bludger nearly knocks him out of the air. Thank god for Javi.
Kate’s returned to her original position, hovering above the pitch, watching for the snitch, when she sees his eyes go wide, and then narrow with triumph.
Shit. He’s spotted the snitch, is diving towards it before she starts to move. She’s really too far away to do anything about it. He’s got the faster broom. Any other seeker would give up and accept the loss.
But she’s not any other seeker. And she is not losing to Castle again.
She grins, pushes her broom into a steeper dive, when both bludgers knock him off course again. She can always count on her boys.
Castle shaking off the impact of two bludgers and getting back on course gives her just enough time to catch up. She’s diving as fast as she possibly can, knows she’s a little out of control, but the snitch is almost in reach, and she’s positive she can grab it without slamming into the ground.
Until she feels Castle pull up right beside her. She takes a risk, and pushes her broom into a steeper dive. She’s basically diving straight at the ground, but it gives her the added speed she needs. Her hand closes around the snitch, and she grins.
And then hits the ground hard. It takes her a moment, but she realizes that Castle is lying on top of her, his hand wrapped around hers in a last-ditch effort to capture the snitch.
She groans, pushes at him with her free hand, and he rolls off of her (she notices that he doesn’t let go of her hand, though). “Ow,” she murmurs, sitting up and rubbing at her head.
Castle winces. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says. He flashes her a charming grin. “How about I take you to Hogsmeade next weekend. To make up for it.”
She considers for a moment before smirking. “You’re on,” she says. She lifts her fist, shakes it until he lets go. “But if you want to hold my hand, you ask first.”