The list of Nick/Harry fics I want, having already read apparently all the Nick/Harry fic that exists:

1. The bohemian/Brideshead Revisited-style one that expands on the whole “Harry constantly at Nick’s place” trope and features Nick coming home to find Harry just taking a bath, or sprawled mostly or totally naked in front of the TV half asleep, or insisting that they go upstairs to sunbathe on the roof. Also making elaborate and terrible cocktails at 4am, and then insisting that Nick at least attempt to piggyback him down to the bottle shop (off license? liquor store? whatever British folks call it) to get more vodka when he’s exhausted the supplies. I would like the variation where Nick is intensely frustrated and always turned on, but also the more Brideshead Revisited one where they just swan around being aesthetically pleasing together and also go on picnics and feed each other strawberries and rowboat dates and lots and lots of UST.

2. The one that’s like a canon/AU fusion based on Common People, where Harry Styles is still a superstar and Nick is still a handsome fuck of a hipster, but he probably doesn’t have a radio show and his friends aren’t hugely famous beyond that scene sense, and they meet and Nick hauls him around supermarkets and is even less prepared to deal with paparazzi and both of them try to pretend like Harry isn’t just slumming it or something.

3. The sleepy one from the other day.

4. Something about all that time Harry apparently spent in the studio hiding out of sight, with lots of pigtail pulling and just kind of trying to annoy Nick Grimshaw with no real reason or understanding why he wants Nick to pay attention to him all the time except he does,so bad, and he’s not really bothered about questioning why he wants anything, he just goes after it with friendly but single-minded determination. Also it would end with him sucking Nick off under the table on air.


time traveller!rory omg what am i doing??

When Rory turned fifteen his two dad’s sat him down and told him, their faces perfectly blank, that they had lied to him about the way they had ended up getting together. He had raised an eyebrow, looked at the big, black notebook that his dad’s were holding between them; it would have been almost sweet if the situation hadn’t been so strange.

“What do you mean?” Rory asked.

“We lied to you,” Kurt said. “About the way we got together.”

“Okay,” Rory said, frowning. “Why did you do that? Sam?”

“Because we had to wait until the right day to tell you,” Sam spoke up, moving his hand so that it hovered over Kurt’s. Kurt rolled his eyes, lifted his hand and twined his fingers with Sam’s. “It had to be today.”

Rory ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve lost me here. I thought we were going to go out.”

“We will,” Kurt said, raising his free hand as if to calm him. “Sam and I… received this notebook on the day we graduated high school,” he paused. “From you.”

Rory blinked, and looked behind him. There was no-one there, no camera crew waiting to run out and laugh at him, there wasn’t even Aunt Santana letting out a loud laugh and running a hand through his hair until it was a scruffy mess. “From me?” he asked, and let out an awkward laugh. “This is a joke, right?”

Kurt shook his head. “We’re not joking with you, Rory.”

Rory opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, and again, and again, giving him the look of a goldfish. “What are you trying to say here?”

Sam smiled at him, dimples and all, and Rory rolled his eyes. “We’re trying to say it was you who got us together. You who still needs to get back and get us together. If it hadn’t have been for you… I don’t know what would have happened.”

“You gave us this book on the day we graduated,” Kurt said. “And told us when we needed to give it to you. It should have all the information you need. We know you can do it.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah,” he said, “We really do.”

Rory stared at them for a while, took the notebook off Sam when he pushed it across the table to him, tapped his fingers on the table while his dad’s stared at him. “So you guys couldn’t have just taken me to Olive Garden or something?”

time traveller!rory and time traveller!sugar are bffs ok

“We have to talk,” Rory said as soon as she opened the door, (badly) hiding the notebook behind his back.

Sugar grinned at him. “Yeah we do,” she said.

“Happy Birthday. How does it feel?”

“Being fifteen?” he asked, as Sugar led him inside. “Are your moms in?”

Sugar shook her head. “It’s just us. They’re planning on bringing you a cake later.” She looked over her shoulder at Rory’s horrified expression. “Store bought. Don’t worry.”

Sugar’s walls were covered in family photos, and Rory went over and sat down cross-legged on her floor, as he usually did, and looked up at them. There were one’s of the two of them when they were kids, ones of their parents in high school, and ones of the two of them with their two moms and two dads.

There was one photo that Rory really liked of the whole group of them: it had been taken at a dinner party Kurt had insisted on throwing to celebrate Aunt Rachel being nominated for a Tony Award. Rory and Sugar were sat together on the end of the table, their bodies turned toward each other as they laughed and joked about something Rory couldn’t even remember. Next to them were their parents; Kurt and Sam turned toward each other, holding hands, and Aunt Brittany and Santana were linking their pinkies together and smiling.

“Hey,” Sugar said, and threw a pillow at him. “What did you want to talk about?”

Rory had half-managed to hide the notebook behind his back for what he thought was a pretty impressive amount of time. He brought it out and set the notebook on the floor. “This,” he said.

Sugar started to grin. “About time,” she said, and walked over to her closet, where she took out an identical black notebook with “Sugar Motta” scrawled on the front of it. She threw it on the floor so it landed on top of Rory’s notebook. “Snap,” she said.

Rory gaped open-mouthed at her. “So we’re…”

“We’re going back together,” she said, taking the photo of the group of them at the dinner party off the wall, setting it on top of the notebooks. “So things can be like this.”

Rory nodded, because he was pretty sure that nothing could make his birthday any weirder, and at least if he was travelling through time he was travelling with his best friend. “This is insane,” he said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sugar said. “But first, we’re gonna work on your irish accent.”

“My- what?” he asked. Sugar winked, and he groaned.

giraffeontherocks replied to your post: omg i want to write time-travelling rory fic so…


omg i just keep thinking about it like

Rory sat with Finn, Puck and Sam come lunchtime. They all looked so young, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from grinning stupidly at all of them. He took a pack of doritos out of his bag — cool ranch — and looked at Sam pointedly as he began to eat them. Which, by all standards, was a little weird considering he was sitting right next to him.

"Want one?" Rory asked when Sam turned his head to look at him.

Sam looked at the pack for a moment, and then shook his head. “I shouldn’t eat those,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Or I’ll eat the whole pack.”

Rory couldn’t help but grin. “Nothing’s changed there, then.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

"Nothing," Rory said, turning his attention back to the doritos and only looking back up when Kurt walked over. He wasn’t with Blaine, and Rory felt a little smile playing on his lips. "Oh, damn," he said. "I’ve gotta go."

He stood up, grinned at Kurt, and motioned to the seat he was leaving free. “Hi Kurt,” he said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Bye Kurt!” He could feel Kurt’s eyes on him as he walked away, but once he reached the door of the cafeteria he turned a little to find Kurt and Sam sitting right next to each other. He started to smile to himself, thinking that maybe getting his Dad’s together wouldn’t be so hard after all.

doctor who!glee drabble (pezberry, 485 words - spoilers for dw s4 ep13)

"I thought we’d try the planet Fellspoon. Just ‘cause. What a good name. "Fellspoon." Apparently it’s got mountains that sway in the breeze," Santana grinned. "Mountains that move. Can you imagine?”

Rachel looked at her, leaned against the TARDIS, expression unreadable. “And how do you know that?” she asked, voice even.

"Because it’s in your head," Santana said, like it was obvious. "And if it’s in your head, it’s in mine."

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things i am writing aka time traveller!rory and canoe christmas
  • “Something’s wrong,” Kurt said.

    Rory looked up from pushing his food around his plate. “How can you even tell?”

    “You’ve barely touched your pasta,” Sam pointed out, helping himself to some more salad. “Something’s definitely wrong.”

    Rory sighed. “I just- it’s just a lot to take in.”

    “Maybe we should have waited to tell him,” Kurt said, turning to Sam.

    “I’m still here you know,” Rory said.

    “Sorry,” Kurt said, and turned back to Sam.

    Rory threw his hands up in frustration. “Are you even listening to me?”

    Kurt turned back to him, and Sam shot him a sympathetic look. “We know it’s hard to come to terms with,” Kurt said.

    Rory folded his arms across his chest. “But if we don’t go by what you told us to do then…”

    “It’s like in Back to the Future,” Sam said, and Kurt held onto his hand. “You know when Marty McFly starts to change things in the past and he starts to disappear? We don’t want that to happen to you.”

    Rory unfolded his arms slowly. “I guess…”

    “Okay?” Sam asked.

    “Okay,” Rory said.

    “Now,” Kurt said. “Eat your pasta, or you won’t get dessert.”

    Rory sighed and turned back to his plate. “Fine.”
  • “I love you,” Sam said, caressing Kurt’s cheek with his hand. “You know that, right?”

    Kurt lifted his hand to cover Sam’s own, and smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
Ficlet/Fanmix: After All (Kum)

Notes: in the midst of re-uploading my fic I discovered the first Kum thing I ever wrote. It’s part fanmix/part ficlet so I thought I’d upload it here as it’s very very short. It’s probably best to not think of the songs as describing exactly what’s going on in each part of the fic, but more like a soundtrack to each part.

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