Well I Watched Princess Principal And I Guess My Anime Genre Of Choice Is Just Alt-History Lesbian Childhood-Friends-Turned-Lovers Here To End Wars And Take Names So Here’s A Fic It Took Me A Weirdly Long Time To Write
I finished this show back in September and I’m in love it’s such a fun watch. And of course alt-history lesbians has my heart. Even if the steampunk gear-covered Christmas tree was a setback.
This took me forever to write because life-stress, writer’s block, Ange is hard to write because she hardly fucking talks. You know, the usual. But I’m glad I finally finished it and I’ll probably write a couple more for this fandom. If you have ideas you wanna see, send me an ask! I probably won’t do a full ask-prompt list, but I’m always down to hear fic ideas.
This is a look at Ange’s figuring out/coming to terms with the ways she loves Charlotte, and a little bit about Casablanca <3. NSFW-ish as usual (so not outwardly explicit but flowery-written sex is in 90% of my stuff, you know the drill). Also this is like 30 pages I’m so sorry.
If you like this fic and wanna read more of my stuff, I have a masterlist here.
Case 25. Above Love
“So. What’s your story?”
Dorothy grins at her, the flush from one too many shots of whiskey across her cheeks, the smell on her breath, mingling with her perfume. A sweet smell in its way, even if it’s one that brings a moment of unease with it.
Another sampling of some of the most recent holiday cards I’ve made. I still have two orders pending, but thanks once again to those of you who have ordered so far.
I’m making another post because I’m hoping there are still more of you that might be interested in buying some cards from me. The money will be help me with both my Christmas gifts and covering some emergency vet expenses that came up this past week.
Single cards are $4 and bundles of five are $18. Ships worldwide, you’d just pay the actual shipping cost ($3 for a single, $6 for a bundle). Larger bundle, bigger discounts. Prices in CAD.
I can print cards with any text you’d like on the inside (or blank) and can make them according to a specific color scheme.
If you’re interested, or have questions, please drop me a message!
Hi, I wanted to ask you if you know any fanfictions about Johnlock texting/letters/internet messages, something connected with that? :)
I thought I didn’t have many of these, so I was so excited that I would be able to get this done in 10 minutes… it’s now 4 hours later and I finally got a rough list done for you and I STILL can’t find the one I wanted to add to this list! I’m so angry, because I THOUGHT it was an FFNet fic, but i can’t find it urg. Oh well. I hope you like what I have picked for you instead!
SEXTING / TEXTING:
Unquantifiable by 221b_hound(M, 2799 w, Ao3) - John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can’t find words big enough to thank her for saving John’s life at the warehouse. For afters, there’s a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of Unkissed
Happy anniversary by Salambo06(E, 3772 w., Ao3) - John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.
A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua(M, 12,757 w. Ao3) - John sank deeper into the pillows, let the mist and blur of the wine settle around him, let it shore up his nerves and dim the warning signals that flashed dully in the back of his mind. He let the rest of the disappointment about Lucy and his strange accommodations and about the weekend as a whole fade into obscurity. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes. **MUST READ**
The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea(T, 21,691 w., Ao3) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.
Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb(E, 8737 w., Ao3) - "I am not agitated. I’m just tired of it. The insinuations, the comments, that I have no… no interest in relationships, or sex.“ John and Sherlock muddle through a relationship. **FAVE!**
Entanglement by orphan_account(G, 3218 w., Ao3) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots. Lovely pining Sherlock fic. Love this one!
Definitions by siennna(T, 101,528 w., Ao3) - Throughout his life, Sherlock Holmes has always taken facts and held them close like treasures, because in a world of complex emotions, unpredictability, and the unknown, logic has never failed him. Puzzles can always be solved and equations will always have an answer; he seeks and finds comfort in the steady absolution of facts and the knowledge that everything has a definition: an unchanging, consistent meaning. However, at age thirty-five he discovers the exception to all of his neat, tidy logic when he meets John Watson, the one person who evades definition and refuses to be easily categorized—and who makes Sherlock question his own previously unshakeable ideas about everything from life to love. (Apparently a WiP, but it feel complete enough, as the “last chapter” has been waiting for over 2 years)
Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6090 w., Ao3) - Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to recieve pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.
Text Me When It’s Over by immaculately-flawed(K+, 1K+ w., FFnet) - After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them… Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.
Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058(K, 959 w., ffnet) - A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.
Iunctum by Fudgyokra(K, 221 w., FFNet) - He stood still for a long time, staring not so much at the words he’d been sent, but at the signature that marked them: A simple ‘SH,’ neatly tucked at the close of the words ‘I’ve missed you.’” A 221B ficlet; Sherlock’s return from the fall.
The Art Of Communication by StillWaters1(T, 2K+ w., FFNet) - Lestrade was used to getting odd, non sequitur texts from Sherlock. But when “John went out for milk” was followed by a terse “two hours ago,” Lestrade immediately understood three things: John was missing, Sherlock was quietly panicking, and this could all end very, very badly.
LETTERS / EPISTOLARY
Letters by Jenna Flare(T, 2K+ w., FFNet) - John leaves letters on Sherlock’s grave as a method of coping. Sherlock reads them every week. Sherlock/John, John/Mary. T for swearing. Post-Reichenbach
Dear John by starwarsfreak95(T, 601 w. FFNet) - Not all Dear John letters are bad. Sherlock tries to explain to John why he did what he did and how much John means to him.
Pen Pals by WerewolfDoctor(K, 2K w., FFNet) - Most people don’t become pen pals by one of them writing a not-suicide note. Then again, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have never exactly been normal, have they?
In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower(E, 51,639 w., Ao3) - John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.
Correspondence by Cleo2010(T, 8031 w., Ao3) – Sherlock’s been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge. Read their letters month by month. Written after series one.
White Blank Page by SarahCat1717(M, 11,936 w., Ao3) – Post-fall, Sherlock is off eliminating Moriarty’s crime web. He finds he misses John. He can’t divulge that he still lives, but he placates his need to communicate with John and still feel a connection with him by sending him blank letters. But over time, this writing exercise lends itself to Sherlock exploring his feelings for his friend. What will happen when Sherlock returns to London and the man he has been “writing” to regularly for the past two years? NOT S3 compliant. Mary who?
Winter of Life by You_Light_The_Sky(T, 5178 w., Ao3) – It was an experiment, really. On Christmas, Sherlock wrote to Santa asking for a friend. He got a broken toy soldier instead. This is the story of how he finds him again and again.
Dear John by wendymarlowe(E, 3 Parts, 30,802 w. Ao3) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.)
BLOGS / SCRAPBOOKS / JOURNALS
The Case of the Vanishing Blog by Hekateras (K+, 2K+ w., FFNet) - Sherlock is in it for the hunt. John is in it for the action. Even so, the events at the Pool leave a mark on both, unwilling as they are to admit it.
One-Way Mirror by StormyNight108(K+, 830 w. FFNet) - Post-Reichenbach one-shot. It’s been months since the incident, where a man lost his best friend. Slowly but surely, John’s life is starting to turn up a little. That night, his blog is updated to share good news to his followers, and one anonymous commentator is quick to share his happiness. It’s about as close to his friend as he can get right now.
Don’t Go Without Meby MirabileLectu(T, 1K+ w. FFNet) - Deep in the recesses of the cluttered space under John’s bed, far from the prying eyes of nosy landladies, there is a box.
Journal of Truths by Goddess_of_the_Night(T, 2317 w., Ao3) - When John escorts Sherlock back to Baker Street from the tarmac, he discovers a journal that Sherlock has kept secret…that he has kept secrets in. What he sees when he opens it is nothing like what he expected. He expected scrawling notes of observations, or maths equations, or drawings of plants…anything but what he actually finds: confessions.
You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account(G, 10,077 w., Ao3) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock’s study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn’t entirely mind.
The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst(E, 58,611 w., Ao3) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.
POST-ITS / LISTS
I Believe In Sherlock Holmes by Cennis(K, 2+K w., FFNet) - When John came to Baker Street one Sunday about six months after the funeral and found an elegant wooden cane, expensive-looking yet sturdy, stuffed away in the shoe cupboard, he began ‘blogging’ again. It began with post-it notes. POST-FALL.
In case of emergency by AlessNox(K, 520 w., FFNet) - Sherlock is charged with making a list of what supplies they would need in case of an emergency.
The Three-Word Tin Collection by TheBookshelfDweller(K, 1K+ w., FFNet) - What happens when Sherlock has to store the things he wants to say to John while deconstructing Moriarty’s web, but the Mind palace proves an inadequate place to store them?
206 Reasons by whitchry9(K+, 1K+, FFNet) - John won’t wake up, so Sherlock lists all the reasons why he should. Because he appears to be a bit besotted. How inconvenient.
Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb(E, 4,578 w., Ao3) – John is entirely done with the milk situation and gives Sherlock a list of shit he’s pissed about. Sherlock sets out to make John happy. John is happy. Sherlock makes his own list. They are both very, very happy.
Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish(M, 32,961 w., Ao3) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’, and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts’ now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.
See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos(E, 4,981, Ao3) – John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure. So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes
And I have a few on my Marked For Later List which also have this theme. I HAVE NOT READ THEM, so I don’t know what they are like; I was waiting for them to finish before I do. As well, Alexx has a tonne of lists you can check out too!
The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine(T, WIP, Ao3) - John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly and find the truths that matter most.
Letters from Sussex by sussexbound(E, 3 Parts, 160,298 w., Ao3) – In the wake of the Mary/Moriarty affair, John and Sherlock have fallen out, and are living apart. But Sherlock isn’t content with this state of affairs–not one bit. He’s tired of dancing around the obvious.
The Twins’ Relationship with Ginny is Highly Underrated
It’s great to watch it develop over the course of the series.
up!” their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They
leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger
sister began to cry.
“Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you
loads of owls.”
“We’ll send you a Hogwarts’ lavatory
“Only joking, Mum.”
train began to move. Harry saw the boys’ mother waving and their sister, half
laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too
much speed, then she fell back and waved.
Fred and George challenged Harry and Ron to a few games of Exploding Snap, and Ginny sat watching them, very subdued in Hermione’s usual chair.
“What do we want to be prefects for?” said George, looking revolted at the very idea. “It’d take all the fun out of life."
"You want to set a better example for your sister!” snapped Mrs. Weasley.
“Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was,” said Fred bracingly. “And he’s been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn’t feel a thing.”
“Fred!” said Ginny indignantly.
wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The
crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.
said Fred, grabbing Ginny’s hand and starting to pull her toward the wood.”
Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow.
“Oh, hello, Harry!” said
Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, brightly.
“I thought I heard your
to Fred and George, she said, “It’s no-go with the Extendable Ears, she’s
gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door.”
“Asleep, yeah, right,” said Fred in an undertone, after Hermione bade them goodnight and they were climbing to the next floor. “If Ginny’s not lying awake waiting for Hermione to tell her everything they said downstairs then I’m a flobberworm…”
“Yeah, size is no guarantee of
power,” said George. “Look at Ginny.”
George and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: “He
got off, he got off, he got off…"
"He got off, he got off, he got off…”
“That’s enough - Fred - George - Ginny!” said Mrs. Weasley, as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen.
Fred, George and Ginny were still singing. "HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF-“
"SHUT UP!” roared Mrs. Weasley.
Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. […] The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats either side of Ginny.
“Come on, Ginny’s not bad,” said George fairly, sitting down next to Fred. “Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us."
"She’s been breaking into your broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren’t looking,” said Hermione from behind her tottering pile of Ancient Rune books.
“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
“Hey,” said a voice in Harry’s ear. He looked round; Fred and George had come to join them.
“Ginny’s had a word with us about you,” said Fred, stretching out his legs on the table […]
“Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor,” said Ginny promptly, “and warn people not to go down there because someone’s let off a load of Garrotting Gas."
Hermione looked surprised at the readiness with which Ginny had come up with this lie; Ginny shrugged and said, "Fred and George were planning to do it before they left.”
“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.
There you go,“ said Fred proudly. "Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere."
Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do they work?” she asked.
“Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question…"
"… and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. "But we’re not selling them to our sister,“ he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we've…"
"Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf. “What’s this?"
"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” said Fred. “Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"
"Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?”
She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs,” said George.
“Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"
"I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it.
“They’re really cute!”
"They’re fairly cuddly, yes,“ conceded Fred.
"But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?” Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.
“And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald,” said George, “what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called — unless our information is faulty — Lavender Brown?”
“Then, as Charlie isn’t coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny —"
"— that’ll make Ginny’s Christmas —” muttered Fred.
Under cover of a particularly jazzy number called “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love,” Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny.
Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).
Ginny was now climbing through the hole in the wall, closely followed by Fred, George, and Lee Jordan.
“She’s sixteen!“ shouted Mrs. Weasley.
"She’s not old enough! What you two were thinking bringing her with you—”
Fred and George looked slightly ashamed of themselves.
Victor finds out Yuuri and Phichit used to go all out celebrating Christmas, so around that time, Yuuri's out buying Victor a birthday present and comes back to a house COVERED in Christmas decorations. Needless to say, Victor's on the bed with a "Sexy Santa" costume. Yuuri couldn't stop laughing so they just watched a bunch of classic Christmas-y movies. The cheesier the better.
Got any married Shance headcanons? Please. I want the married shit. (I don't care if it nsfw. I don't care if it's sickly sweet. I just want some more married Shance. Please. Please bless my dash with the sweet married babes.)
YES OFC I DO!!!
-shiro tried really hard to make a nice proposal. he planned everything. it was going to be dramatic, it was going to be amazing. but then the dinner was a mess, the fireworks were late, and shiro accidentally spilled wine all over lance’s favorite dress shirt. they walked around and shiro finally decided ‘screw it’ and proposed in front of a fountain… lance was so excited he accidentally knocked the ring from shiro’s hands into the fountain. it was clearly a yes, but they spent an hour looking for the ring
-shiro is still a shitty cook
-lance and shiro buy the same boxers and have given up trying to separate them.
-they adopt cats and are like two old cat ladies. they spoil their cats so much wth toys and treats and pats.
-they fight over cute nicknames
-tickle fights are an often occurrence when they have a disagreement
-they are good at communicating their worries and doubts and fears to each other
-everything can be healed with a few soft kisses
-lance wanted to make a romantic first year of marriage anniversary surprise but shiro came home earlier than expected so lance was standing in the kitchen half naked and the kitchen an explosion of rose petals and cake mix.
-they enjoy watching old movies together
-they adopt a child and name her taylor
-they have a nice apartment with a pretty view. their first ‘married’ fight was over the color of their living room.
-when christmas comes, they basically cover their ceiling in mistletoe
-they do chores together and they turn it into a duet session
-grocery shopping is always fun
-shiro likes tongue kisses because he is gross
-lance does not like tongue kisses first thing in the morning
Write Christmas morning for all of the sides (and Virgil getting emotional because they care, they got him gifts and they careee)
Virgil awoke bright and early, his door being knocked on. “Viiiiiirgiiiiiiil…… Viiiiiirgiiiiillll….. Vergey Vergey Verrrrrge….” Came Patton’s gentle coo of a voice. “Hmm?” He managed as his door gently opened. Patton tip toed into his room and placed a hand on the awakening side’s shoulder. “Virgil? Wake up kiddo! It’s Christmas!” He barely understood what he was hearing in his sleeping state. “Christmas? What?” The anxious side began to rub his eyes. “Yeah! It’s Christmas! We alw— Uh.. Come on, Kiddo!” Patton faltered, remembering this was Virgil’s Christmas with them.
I hope that you like it, because I was waiting for request like that, like… whole my life.
Doctor Stephen Strange opened his eyes and looked around
with furrowed brow, not recognizing his surrounding at first. He sighed seeing
that he was sitting in his armchair in the library of Sanctum Sanctorum. The
flame in fire place, that he was sitting close
to, was slowly dying out. Looking at himself Doctor noticed that he was
covered by thick blanket, his cape nowhere to be seen.
Slowly, Stephen got up from armchair and laid the blanket on
it before he made his way out of the library and looked around the corridor, trying
to figure out, where could his cape went. Smelling the smell coming from the
kitchen, man smiled and went in the said direction, his smile only growing when
he heard the tunes of Frank Sinatra’s Witchcraft.
Trying to make as little sound as possible, Strange peeked into the room, to
see you, dancing slightly with his cape of levitation, humming to the tunes of
the song and occasionally turning to the stove to stir, whatever was in the
pod, with your wooden spoon.
Leaning against the doorframe, man crossed his arms at his chest
and looked at you with soft eyes. The way your hips swings, how you spin with
the cape of levitation, the sparks in your (r/c) eyes and smile, oh this
gentle, beautiful smile you barely was
showing to anyone in normal days. But it wasn’t
normal day. The Christmas was nearing, snow covered the streets completely and
it was that time that everyone felt the atmosphere of the holidays that were
only one week apart.
Seeing you like that, Strange couldn’t help but think about the day he meet you.
It was in Kamar-Taj. When the Ancient One finally allowed
him in, he was greeted by your amused face. You definitely weren’t new there. Yet Strange assumed that
you couldn’t be there longer than Mordo.
At least that’s what he thought, taking in
your appearance. Your hair were in colorful mess, that he barely could notice
their natural (h/c) color. Your robes were loose, showing your bandaged chest,
where he was able to see a small pentagram-like tattoo. You didn’t look like you were used to what the
monks were wearing, more like if they made you wear the clothes you were totally
against to. Oh, how you laughed, not even two days later, at the sight of his
face, when Mordo told him that you were with the monks from when you were barely
a teenager, becoming the one of the best among them in matter of weeks. Strange
never got to know your story, of how you got there, but he didn’t care, not after you showed him that
past doesn’t matter, that his hands didn’t really mattered in the mystic arts,
and that it was your destiny to meet. He didn’t
agreed with you at the beginning, but he learned to trust your words with time.
You were the one who introduced him to Wong and helped him with his studding,
never getting mad at him and having a lot of patience with him. It was you, who
showed him, how to get books from library that Wong didn’t want to give him yet, telling him the story of how you
did the same, years ago, with former master librarian.
It was right before Kaecilius attacked, that Strange
understood that his feelings for you weren’t just
regular, boring friendship, but something much stronger, yet how strong he didn’t really know, not then. It came
clear to him in Hong Kong, when while rewinding time he saw your lifeless body lying
in the rubble of destroyed Sanctuary. When you stood up, Strange couldn’t help himself and hugged you,
pulling you to his chest with all his force, and despite the circumstances he
laughed at how shocked you were at the fact that you were alive.
“I love you.” Were his first words when he saw
you, half year later, entering the New Your sanctuary as the new guardian of
it. In that moment smile that was on your face only grew at wat you heard. It
turned out as the best day of Doctor’s life
in the moment you dropped the bag with your thing and hugged him, answering to
his statement with the exact same words… after
you called him a dumbass.
It was two years from when he meet you, and full year from
his confession, and every day of it was just perfect, yet it was probably the
first time he saw you cooking something else than water for tea.
Strange blinked, focusing on reality when he felt the weight
of his cape resting on his shoulders and pushing him into the kitchen, where
you were now completely focused on preparing the food, still swaying your hips
to the sound of the music in the background, your humming quiet, yet the best
and most perfect sound for Stephen’s ears.
Standing behind you and placing his shaking hands on your
hips, Doctor started moving with you, his lips carefully kissing your uncovered
shoulder, then neck and ear, at which he blew slightly.
“Frank Sinatra Witchcraft, 1957, composed by Cy Coleman
with lyrics by Carolyn Leigh.” You
giggled, turning off the stove and turning around to look him in the eyes.
“My favorite song.” Strange hummed, bowing his head and
kissing your lips.
“I thought it was Hey Jude by The Beatles.”
“No.” You bopped his nose. “It’s my favorite Beatles song.”
“Ah.” He kissed you again. “And why
are you cooking? I though you are not capable of such an act.” Rolling your eyes you pushed him
slightly, and went to the cupboard to get plates.
“And where did you get that
“Taking the amount of pizza
boxes and other take-outs that we are nearly drowning in?” He leaned against the table,
watching you as you putted your dish on the both plates.
“Just for your information. I
can cook, I just choose not to do it.”
“Then why today?” He took the plates for you and sat
at the table, watching with smile as you poured wine in the glasses. He took
his time smelling the dish and his mouth watered at the smell.
“Pizza Hut is not delivering
today because of snow.” You
sat in front of him and gave him his wineglass and giggling at him, eying the
food in front of him. “It’s chicken with rice and vegetables with
curry and pepper.” Strange took a bite and his
“It’s delicious.” You
grinned at his words and started eating yourself.
After the dinner, Stephen washed the dishes and took you
back to library where the both of you sat on the sofa, covered yourself with
blanket and looked at the flames in the fireplace that Doctor rekindled,
sipping wine, your head on his shoulder, the sound of burning wood and your
breaths the only sounds in the room.
When Doctor reached to table for his book, you stopped him
and climbed on his laps after placing both your wineglasses on the table, and
hugged him with gentle smile on your face. When he hugged you back, you felt
that you wanted the time to stop at this very moment, just so you can stay like
this for whole eternity.
When you lowered your head to his
neck and started nibbling at his skin, Strange smiled and started playing lazily
with your hair.
what are you doing?” You chuckled soundlessly in
his heck and looked at him with innocent eyes.
it may be the perfect moment for the dessert?”
Smiling, Strange placed his hand on your neck and pulled you for lazy, gentle
kiss, the one that made you melt inside.
ever told you, how much I love you?”
“Few times.” You pecked his lips and started
playing with his robes. “But you
may remind me. You know how forgetful I can be.”
Smiling Stephen pushed you on the sofa and hovered above you, capturing your
lips once more, yet with much more passion than earlier.
Maybe you were right and it was
destiny that he get into an accident that evening? After all, if not it, he
wouldn’t have meet you, and world
would be much likely destroyed. And now, because of his careless behavior on
the road, he was there, with the most perfect woman in the universe, knowing
that she was his whole world, and that for her, he would do and fight
everything. It has to be destiny, there is no other way that he would love this
much someone who wasn’t destined
for him. Even though he doesn’t know her
story, he doesn’t care. It was past, and it’s now that mattered…
And now, he had a very important
matter in his hands… and below him…
[Last updated: 25/03/17] This is a list of every Bastille song we know about!
If you can’t find a copy of anything in the list, feel free to message me and I can probably hook you up. At the bottom of the list I’ve also included songs by Dan Smith before Bastille formed and songs he created with Ralph PelleyMounter.
If I’ve missed anything please reply/message me so I can update the list! I’ll be updating it periodically anyway with new stuff they release.
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff and Smut (Unprotected Sex, wrap it before tap it)
your grandparents pass away, you find out they leave everything to you,
including a large sum of money. Deciding
to take the advice of your grandparents, you live your life to the fullest;
which means moving to Boston and bumping into Chris Evans.
The grand opening of “Bean There, Read That” could only be
described as one word: successful. You
knew, deep down that it really helped bring in more people since Chris was on
hand for autographs and photographs; but you didn’t care. He was your loving, compassionate, caring
boyfriend who honestly did you a favor, and you loved him even more.
The achievement that you accomplished with your shop was
something you would never forget. Little
kids came up to hug at your legs; parents stopped by to shake your hand and
congratulate your new business, saying how excited they were to have a new book
and coffee shop in town.