#no guys its not cassie my charlie is just mixed...

[hearts401]

Gregory's... not in the picture 😭

I desperately need a time travel au like this

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

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Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[hamburgergod]

an exciting installment of orange and grapefruit verse, about Dean and Cas’s every day lives as normal college roommates, except Cas is a hybrid between a human and a phoenix harpy. ~2k 

Dean comes back from his last class for the day, and pauses at the foyer when he smells the unmistakably fruity sweet smell that fills the entire house. Also mixed in the air is the tangy scent of alcohol.

“Cas?” Dean calls carefully, because he knows by now to assume it always involves Cas whenever unexpected shit happens around here. He hopes Cas is actually around, and this isn’t another one of his relatives. Anna he can stand, everyone else related to Cas, he’d rather not.

Thankfully, Cas’s voice calls back from the kitchen. Not very thankfully, Dean hears another voice murmuring alongside Cas’s.

“What’s that smell?” Dean asks, and walks into—

—Cas arguing with a short, blonde guy. “—don’t need all this,” Cas continues, gesturing at the bottles and bottles of deep red liquid that now fills up the entire kitchen counter space. Cas glances at Dean, and sets his eyes firmly back on the man standing in front of him.

The man—the harpy, probably—sighs with a shrug. “Can’t believe I’m being treated like this,” he says woefully. “I traveled thousands of miles lugging these heavy things to share some of my best brew with you, and yet—”

“Balthazar, please,” Cas replies sharply, and Dean raises an eyebrow at the name. Definitely another relative, then. “I appreciate your thought, but I don’t—”

“Drink harpy stuff? Oh, come off of it, Cassie. You drank this stuff before,” Balthazar says flippantly, and the way Cas squares his shoulders at the comment immediately has Dean disliking Balthazar. 

“Not anymore,” Cas replies dryly. 

There’s an uncomfortable tension in the air now, and one that Dean’s obviously not attuned to since he has no idea what the fuck they’re actually talking about.

“Hi, I’m Dean,” Dean says with a tight smile, and both Cas and Balthazar turn to him with a blink, like they hadn’t expected the human to butt in. Being a distraction aside, Dean half-expected it from this dick, but he didn’t think Cas would be so riled up enough to forget about him completely.

Balthazar narrows his eyes in distaste. Oh good, he’s one of those cousins. “I know who you are,” he says. It’s amazing how he can say this and have it sound like how dare you interrupt us you filthy bug instead. 

“Balthazar,” Cas hisses, but Balthazar doesn’t bat an eye.

“Anyway, I just need you to taste it,” Balthazar says with an easy shrug. “Let me know how it is.”

Cas’s jaw clenches like he wants to say something, but his shoulders slump in defeat. “Have a safe flight back.”

True to his words, Cas doesn’t drink any of the stuff. He tells Dean to “go ahead” whenever he wants, as long as Dean criticizes it like Balthazar had wanted. He gives a fair warning to water it down beforehand, since it’ll be too strong for a human. 

He’s not sure what to take from that, gauging from his conversation with Balthazar, and besides, with how dad used to be, Dean’s always been... reluctant to take up drinking as a regular hobby himself. 

So he just... doesn’t open any of them. He’s not sure he trusts Balthazar enough to drink anything he’s made, anyway. When Dean tells Cas this, he laughs and says that if he had to pick one thing to trust Balthazar for, it would be his brewing skills.

Cas still doesn’t drink any of the stuff, though. And it continues to be that way, until it isn’t anymore, on one Saturday evening.

Dean comes home, high in spirit after a LARPing session gone excellent to his favour. He’s pretty sure he and Charlie can take on Jo the next time they meet, once and for all. Which is seriously awesome, because this campaign’s lasted far longer than any of them had expected, and it’s about time they put an end to this long battle.

“’S’up, man,” Dean says to Cas, who’s facing the TV as he surfs the channel.

Cas gives a noncommittal grunt, and sips something out of a mug. Dean wrinkles his nose as he gets a waft of the smell, strong enough to float all the way back to where Dean’s standing. He peeks over, and yep, it’s the same red stuff that’s been on their kitchen counter for weeks. 

“You okay?” Dean asks, sliding his backpack off of his back and settling on the couch across from Cas.

Cas blinks back from the TV, his eyes eerily unfocused even as he stares in Dean’s general direction. He shrugs, and takes another sip.

It’s not really a look Dean likes on him, to be honest.

“Hey now,” Dean gestures at the mug, and Cas glances down.

“You need to water it down more if you want to try it,” Cas replies. “It’s too strong for you.”

“You’re drinking it, though.”

Cas wrinkles his nose. “I’m not human, Dean. Not completely.”

Duh. Dean knows that. He’s just not sure why Cas sounds all barb-wired about it. Sure it’s not headline news that Cas gets offended at unexpected things, but not like... this.

Cas must’ve gone out to buy the half-full can of tonic water in the fridge, because Dean definitely didn’t. He pours a little more into the mug Cas hands over to him, and tries sipping at the drink, grimacing at how strong it still is. He pours the rest of it in there, and tries again. It’s not that bad now; just as sweet as it smells. Strong, too, even with the whole can of tonic water in there. 

They watch TV together for a while; it’s Dr. Phil, something about illegitimate children and family drama crap. Dean doesn’t give the mug back.

Cas bristles in his seat, and Dean thinks he’s about to go get another mug full of the stuff, but he just heads to the washroom. Which is good, since Dean hasn’t thought that far ahead about how else he’s going to keep this stuff away from Cas, if possible.

By the time Dean’s contemplating on whether dumping all those bottles in the kitchen down the drain is crossing a line or not, Cas slumps back into the couch. He doesn’t ask for the mug back, so Dean just takes a helpless sip out of it to have something to do. Dr. Phil’s voice and dramatic music fills the room.

“Can I tell you something?”

Cas has really bright blue eyes. Dean never thought of himself as having a type before, but lately, he’s been developing a slight bias. “Sure.”

“I hate being a Half,” Cas says, his eyes wide.

Dean blinks.

“No, that’s not it,” he continues, fixing his eyes to the wall in front of him. “I don’t care that I’m a Half. At least.. I don’t think I do.”

“Um, okay.”

“But I hate being called a Half. Harpies always refer to themselves as ‘harpies’, you know.” That seems reasonable enough. “Except when they’re talking about...” 

He makes a vague gesture towards himself. Oh. 

“I never get referred to as a harpy. Only a Half. The only exceptions are my closest kin, who don’t think of me as human at all.”

Dean’s not sure what to say to that, probably because he’s only ever been raised as a human. He fumbles around with how to properly respond, but Cas is thankfully not done talking.

“I suppose it’s good that we have the distinction, in a way. I’m not a full harpy. It’s... not who I am, Dean. But I’m not a full human, and that’s not who I am, either.” Cas sinks a little more into the couch. “But they always make Half sound so...”

“Wrong?” Dean offers.

“Yes,” Cas replies quietly. “Like it’s dirty. Like my entire existence is a bane to theirs, as if I chose to exist this way.”

Dean clutches the mug in his hand. He almost wishes these harpies were here with them, if only to give them a piece of his mind.

“It’s almost funny,” Cas says, sounding like the opposite of amused. “They hate me for being part human, but they demand that I keep my being a harpy to myself. Associating myself with the same thing that they are... personally offends them.”

Dean wants to reach over, and just—do something. Anything to will that dejected look away from Cas’s face. He remembers a lecture he had the other day.

“Grapefruits,” Dean blurts.

Cas stops looking miserable for a split second, at least. He stares at Dean with wide eyes, then blinks as he tries to process what was just said, which settles into a confused frown. “What?”

Dean sets the mug down, his face as red as the alcohol. “I learned in genetics the other day, that, um, you know, grapefruits are a cross between oranges and pomelos. So I came home and looked this stuff up, ‘cause I thought, that’s pretty cool. I didn’t know that, y’know?” he shrugs. “And apparently, back when they first found grapefruits, people couldn’t decide on whether it was more of an orange or a pomelo. They argued all the time about which one grapefruit should be called as, right, and they actually decided that it’s a pomelo, and yeah, it tastes and looks more like a pomelo than an orange, but a grapefruit is not a pomelo. It’s a, it’s a fucking grapefruit.”

Cas squints at him. “So... I’m the grapefruit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean conitnues. “And funny thing is, until they decided to call it pomelo, they mostly referred to grapefruits as the forbidden fruit or some shit. They couldn’t wrap their little heads around the fact that just because grapefruits have qualities from both oranges and pomelos, it couldn’t be anything other than an orange or a pomelo, depending on who you asked at the time. It was only years after being called a pomelo that grapefruit got sorted as its own thing—as a grapefruit. See where I’m coming from? Yeah?” He makes a juggling gesture, and Cas’s frown deepens.

“I sense that you’re trying to make me feel better,” he says, “but I’m not sure how this is supposed to make me feel better.”

Dean bites his lips, and tries again. “Okay, look, what I’m saying is. You’re not an orange or a pomelo. You’re not—a ‘forbidden fruit’ either,” he air-quotes. “You’re a grapefruit. You’re, you know, Castiel. Cas.” Dean bumps Cas’s knees with his own. 

Castiel frowns down at his hands, but looks less confused than before. Good, okay, progress. 

“Okay, uh, oh!” he snaps his fingers. “Easier example. Everyone knows you can make orange by mixing red and yellow together, right? But nobody calls orange a red-wannabe, or a yellow-wannabe. Nobody points at an orange, I don’t know, shirt, and say ‘hey, look at that half-red half-yellow shirt’. It’s just a fucking orange shirt. 

“And yeah, some people might argue that the shirt is more red or more yellow or whatever, and that’s their own damn opinion, fine, but that doesn’t make reddish orange or yellowish orange more orange than the other. And just because some, uh, primary... colour purists say you can’t call orange for what it is, doesn’t mean orange is going to stop being orange. You can still be just... orange,” Dean finishes weakly. He probably should’ve stopped at the grapefruit example.

“So now you’re saying I am an orange,” Cas replies.

“Not the fruit, Cas, the—” Dean starts, but stops at the slightly amused smile Cas is wearing. 

Cas huffs, and leans forward. “Grapefruits,” he repeats carefully. Dean nods.

“D’you see what I’m getting at, here?”

“I think so,” he says, and good. That’s good. Better answer than a ‘no’, at least.

Dean reaches over to pat him on the back. “Just, keep being you, Cas,” he offers. The clench in Cas’s jaw has loosened up. “No need to be anything else.”

Cas stares at him with his bright blue eyes and his widened smile. Their knees are still touching from when Dean bumped them together.

There’s a rustle and the sound of cloth ripping, and Dean blinks up from Cas’s face to see wings, and has seconds to respond to Cas’s opening arms and wings by opening his own arms. 

“Hey, hey, alright,” Dean says in what he hopes is a soothing voice against the warmth wrapped around him. Cas’s hair tickles the side of his face.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas mumbles into Dean’s ear. He tries to not shiver, and responds with a tight squeeze before they part. Cas’s feathers sweep at his cheeks and down under his chin as his wings fold back up, almost like they’re caressing his face for a second there. He supposes he can’t help it; not like Dean can control every single strand of his hair.

Cas turns the TV off, and Dean cooks them a late dinner. Cas helps with the dishes after, and Dean heat themselves two cups of hot chocolate to sip at.

The mug of red sits on top of the coffe table, forgotten.  

[firstdraftpod]

Cassandra Clare

First Draft Episode #242: Cassandra Clare

Cassandra Clare is #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Shadowhunter Chronicles, the forthcoming Sword Catcher duology, and co-author of the Magisterium series. Her most recent Shadowhunter novel, Chain of Gold, kicks off the Last Hours trilogy.

Links and Topics Mentioned In This Episode

A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Noel Streatfeild wrote a prolific series of books for young readers, kicking off with Ballet Shoes and including Dancing Shoes, Theater Shoes, and Skating Shoes.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg

Cassie went through a British obsession where she read all of the Brontë sister’s works (best typified by Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre) and all of Jane Austen (including Pride and Prejudice and Emma)

Cassie’s interview on 88 Cups of Tea

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

Holly Black, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Cruel Prince, The Coldest Girl in Coldtown, and The Spiderwick Chronicles (listen to her First Draft episode here)

J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy

The Shannara books by Terry Brooks, which kicks off with The Sword of Shannara

Tad Williams, author of the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series, which kicks off with The Dragonbone Chair, and the Shadowmarch series

Guy Gavriel Kay, author of Tigana and (my personal fav), Under Heaven and its sequel, River of Stars

Annette Curtis Klause, author of Blood and Chocolate and The Silver Kiss

Ellen Kushner, author of Thomas the Rhymer and Swordspoint.

Terri Windling created the “Bordertown” shared world urban fantasy series. In 2011 she initiated a YA revival of the series Welcome to Bordertown co-edited with Holly Black.

Robin Wasserman, author of Girls on Fire and the forthcoming Mother Daughter Widow Wife (listen to her First Draft episode here)

Tamora Pierce, author of Alanna and Wild Magic

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

A High Wind in Jamaica by Richard Hughes

The Greengage Summer by Rumer Godden

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