and my flatmate is the only person not smiling and i wanted to kick him

Called It

A YouTuber AU SnowBaz fanfic for the Carry On Countdown


Simon Snow’s first YouTube video is one of my favourites.  It’s as painfully awkward as any other YouTuber’s first video.  He sits up too straight in his chair, he smiles and laughs too mechanically, and the film quality itself is poor, with half of his words lost to shoddy editing. Yet despite all this, it’s adorable.

           And of course, it’s the origin of the biggest OTP on YouTube, SnowBaz.

           “Hi guys,” Simon waves at the camera, his hand going all pixelated at the movement.  “Welcome to the first video on my channel!”  He’s inserted a sound effect of people cheering.  I have to laugh.  It’s so damn cringe-worthy.

           He goes on for a few moments, trying to make jokes and jump-cuts that work, when finally, it’s everyone’s favourite part.

           “What are you doing, Snow?” comes a voice from off-camera.  My heart turns to mush.


           Simon’s new flatmate, or at least he was new at this point.

           “Making my first YouTube video,” Simon grins up at someone behind the camera.  “Come say hi!”

           “-bleep- no.”

           Even the censor sounds old, like it was stolen from the year 2007.

           Simon looks a bit panicked, like he’s realizing that he’ll have to edit out the swear word.  A door slams somewhere out of the shot.

           “That’s my new flatmate,” he tells us.  “His name is Baz.  He’s kind of a prat.”

           “Just you wait,” I whisper at my computer screen. “Just you wait.”


           Simon and Baz do not get along.  At all.

           That much is clear from the first video, but it become increasingly obvious as Simon posts more frequently.  He often films in the living room, which drives Baz insane.

           “Why don’t you film in your own room?” he says, audibly annoyed.

           “The lighting in there is terrible,” Simon protests.

           “Well, I’d like to be able to walk around my own flat, if you don’t mind.”

           “Go ahead, no one’s stopping you,” Simon shrugs. “Besides, the viewers keep saying they want to see you.”

           “Well, who wouldn’t?”

           Good old Baz.  Sarcastic and full of himself.  They don’t appear to realize it, but the two of them balance each other out perfectly.

           Little by little, Baz begins to make his mark on Simon’s channel.  At first we only hear him from off-screen, offering his two bits about nearly everything Simon has to say.  Many of his comments are admittedly quite mean and uncalled for, but Simon never edits them out.  Baz is the invisible heckler.  Viewers begin to latch onto this weird relationship of apparent hatred and, as YouTube viewers are wont to do, turn it into a new ship.  “SnowBaz” they call it, and before long the comment sections on all of Simon’s videos are full of things like “I ship it” and “OTP”.

           I try not to fall victim to this shipping trend myself.  It feels insensitive to me, shipping real live people that I’ve never even met like they’re objects of sorts.  But even I can’t deny that the two of them would be cute together.  Provided they stop hating each other.

           Then Baz appears onscreen for the first time.

           He’s on the couch in the background, facing away from the camera.  All we can see is long black hair.  He only moves when he’s shouting ridicule at Simon’s words.  Once he turns his head further to make himself heard, and we catch a glimpse of the light brown skin of his face.  This time the comments are all “is that Baz?” and “OMG BAZ”.

           After that he starts to appear more often. Sometimes he’s facing the screen, looking down at his phone or a book.  He’s tall, and his hair reaches his shoulders.  The expression on his face goes between concentration and a sneer, that latter of which he reserves for his heckling.  It doesn’t take long for people to start commenting on how attractive he is.  Still Simon leaves all the footage of Baz in his videos, not hiding a single rude comment from his viewers.

           Once, Simon tries to get Baz to join him for a “meet my flatmate” video.  Baz responds simply by flipping Simon off in the background, which Simon has to pixel out. He’s gotten better at editing at this point.

           Sometimes Simon posts daily vlogs on days when he does things that he considers exciting.  The things that Simon finds exciting are too cute for words.  They tend to be little events like going to a coffee shop, things that are almost mundane but for some reason they excite him. He does this thing where he dances when he’s excited.  He’ll bob his head cheerfully as he walks, glad to just be out.  He’s gone to the grocery store with Baz a few times in his vlogs.  Those videos are some of the best ones.  They bicker about everything from which kind of milk to get to who gets to carry the baskets.  Sometimes we can see Baz’s mouth quirk like he’s trying not to laugh, like all this bickering is just a game for him.  Of course, this sends the SnowBaz shippers into a frenzy, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Baz doesn’t hate Simon as much as he lets on.

           But there’s one video on Simon’s channel that is the absolute bread of life for anyone who ships the two of them.  Simon is doing a Q&A, and as usual Baz is sitting and reading in the background.

           “This question is from Twitter,” Simon says, reading off of his phone.  “They ask ‘Are you in love with anyone right now?’”

           And if you look closely, you can see Baz go rigid.

           “Well,” Simon leans in close to the camera, “I have been messaging with someone quite a lot.  I don’t know who the person is, but we’ve gotten really close and I’m starting to think -”

           “Could you keep it down, Snow,” Baz pipes up, his voice tight.  “I’m trying to read over here.”

           Simon doesn’t speak of it any further, but Baz sneaks glances at the back of Simon’s head more than once before the video is over. I don’t know how Simon could have not noticed it.  Certainly every single one of his viewers did, which is to say over a million people. Perhaps love is completely daft.


           When I arrive home from work on a particularly rainy day in October, I am delighted to open my computer and find that Simon is in the middle of a livestream.  Comments flow constantly from the sidebar and I settle in to join the party.  He’s in a different room this time, one with a neatly made bed on which he sits, and I gather that it’s his room.  It looks so clean, but I wonder if there’s a disaster hiding behind the camera.

           Simon leans towards us like he’s trying to read all of the comments and questions as they flood in.  He gets a lot of I love you’s and he grins in response, trying to return as many of them as possible.

           “I’ve got to go soon,” he tells us and I sigh in disappointment, “but I’ll answer a few more questions first.”  He’s quiet for a minute as all the viewers catch up with the stream.  “Here’s one: ‘Did you find out who was messaging you so much?’”  He pauses before answering.  “Funny you should ask, because yes, I did, and that’s a perfect segway into what I wanted to talk about.”  He shifts on his bed.  “I have a bit of an announcement -”

           His door opens behind him, and Baz in all his glory appears in it.

           Comments start flying in of “BAZ” and “OMG”

           “What are you doing?” Baz asks without a hint of a sneer in his voice.

           “Just filming a live show,” Simon tells him. He seems… nervous?

           “A live show, eh?”  Baz strolls over and – wonder of wonders – sits down on the bed next to Simon.  We’ve never seen him this close to the camera, and his eyes are this lovely mix of gray and green.

           We’ve also never seen him this close to Simon before.

           My heart kicks up a notch.  I’ve fallen down the slippery slope and now there’s no denying that I ship it completely.  I grab a pillow to hold to my chest and go into fangirl-mode, overanalysing every inch of their proximity.  With a click I maximize the screen, blocking the other comments from my view.  I want to see every pixel of this.

           “I was just going to make that little announcement,” Simon says, staring at his hands in his lap.

           “Ah,” Baz nods, apparently understanding.  “Go on, then.  Carry on, Simon.”

           Did he –

           Did he just call him Simon?

           He never calls him Simon!

           “I can’t do it if you’re here!” Simon protests.

           Baz gives a shrug.  “Then I’ll tell them.”

           He takes Simon by the collar and kisses him.  

           I scream into my pillow.

           Simon and Baz are kissing, right now, in front of millions of people.

           I can practically hear the collective aneurism that the fangirls are currently having.

           They’re still kissing, and Simon is grinning against Baz’s mouth.  It’s the most genuine smile he’s ever graced the internet with, and it’s not even for us.

           I’m tearing up, I’m so happy for them.

           Baz lets Simon go and turns to smirk at the camera. “That one’s for all you SnowBaz shippers out there.  Don’t think we don’t know.”  He winks. He fucking winks.

           And then he leaves.  

           Simon turns back to the camera, his cheeks red and his lips puffy.  He grins sheepishly.

           “Um, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s what I was gonna tell you about.”

           I tap the comment box.

           pennyforyourthoughts: Called it.

anonymous asked:

heeey! sorry to bother you. do you have any recs for fics where harry has a crush on draco? I'm in your fic recs tag (ur the best btw) and i've run across some pining draco recs, and i thought you might know some cute pining-harry (when is he not pining tho? he's so obsessed, but you know what i mean haha!!)

One pining Harry coming right up!

To Be Where I’m Going (In the Sunshine of Your Love) by @theboywholivcd (19k)
“He imagined Draco’s smile, all gums and slightly crooked teeth, his hair slicked back with Pacific water, and he knew: He’d travel as long as he’d need to if it meant he’d see that face. If it meant that Draco would hear the message he’d been carrying for so long. Maybe he didn’t have to travel the road alone anymore.“
Draco and Harry go on a road trip together. It’s about the journey, not the destination.

Azoth by Zeitgeistic (88k)
Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

A Piercing Comfort by talithan (44k)
When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy’s patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he’s no longer sure he wants to.

Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame (30k)  
One year after being accidentally bonded to each other, Harry and Draco are free to move on with their lives. But perhaps, what they needed was here all along.

The Gentlewizard Club by @sophiefrench77 (28k)
Draco wants what Draco wants. And if he has to snuggle up to Harry to get it, well, surely, Draco can handle that. Problem is, not sure Harry can.

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (9k)
Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan. 

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (149k) 
Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Potential Gravity by zeitgeistic (32k)
Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

Time to Eternity by calrissian18 (16k)
Malfoy has wings.

A Convenient Impracticality by firethesound (38k)
Somehow Harry ends up agreeing to a fake relationship with his ex-nemesis-turned-friendly-acquaintance-with-benefits, except for some reason it involves an awful lot of actual dating and, sadly, not much sex. Confused? Harry is too, but when has anything with Draco Malfoy ever been as straightforward as it seems?

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy (35k)
When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

For Love of a Family by icicle33 (30k)
A series of attacks by a group of neo-Death Eaters causes the Ministry to implement a new set of restrictions on former Death Eaters and their children. When Scorpius falls ill, Draco decides that he will do anything to save his son, even if it means marrying Harry Potter.

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)
Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”

Left My Heart by Emmagrant01 (85k)
Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him. [Sequel Surrender the Grey]

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (47k)
The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect. [Follow up Leather Bound History]

LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna (21k)
It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. 

let me see you stripped (down to the bone) by traintracks (24k)
“So,” Malfoy said. “Are you in? Or are you out?” He turned and looked at Harry squarely.
Harry remembered the slow way Malfoy had slid his hand down his own stomach, into his pants – the outline of his long fingers gripping and stroking his own cock. The way his head had fallen back, exposing his pale throat.
How he had owned them all.
He took a deep breath. “I’m in,” he said.

No Other Superstar by lettered (21k)
Draco is sort of fucked up. Harry is sort of fucked up and really really famous. Together they fight crime! Not in this fic, though. In this fic they have sex.

Like a Real Family by Queenie_Mab (10k)
Harry thought he had all he wanted in life, raising Teddy and being the parent he’s always wanted to be, until he experiences what life with a partner could be like. Now if only Draco wasn’t straight.

Twelve Months by dysonrules (14k)
Hermione buys Harry a journal and he ends up using it to record his DEEP THOUGHTS. Not surprisingly, those tend to mostly involve Draco Malfoy.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by Lauren3210 (32k)
Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he’s going to work to get it.

The Kaleidoscope Charm, or 50 Shades of Rainbow Magic by Omi_Ohmy (26k)
Getting Draco Malfoy as a boss was not the worst thing that happened to Harry; getting a crush on him was.

Systemic Morality by zeitgeistic (34k) 
One screw-up changes everything. Harry really should learn to lock the door before having sex with Draco when his godson’s around. A tale of hot, steamy, flowing love—for Padma Patil and Theodore Nott. A tale of colossal screw-ups and slow, flangsty (sexy) resolutions for Harry and Draco.

And a Malfoy in a Pear Tree by lauren3210 (7k)
Draco works in a coffee shop. Harry drops by every day to get his fix. Of coffee, Ron.

The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care by digthewriter (9k)
Harry Potter is the proud owner of The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care and his favourite student is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s dad might be okay, too.

Reading Malfoy by Femme (15k) 
After thirteen years of hiding himself away in Muggle London, Draco Malfoy shows up again in the wizarding world–with a wickedly amusing memoir in hand. Harry doesn’t want to read it. Really. He doesn’t.

Humbug (A Christmas Tale) by Snegurochka (29k)
Draco has been taking his casual relationship with Harry for granted. Visits from four key ghosts the night before Christmas just might shake up his priorities in life.

So Worth The Yearning For… by digthewriter (7k)
After months (years, really) of pining, Harry accidentally asks Malfoy out on a date.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (27k)
Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

The Holy Tree is Growing There by lotus_lizzy (18k)
The winsome, winsome elder tree Beneath whose shade I sit reclin’d;- It holds a witch within its bark, A lovely witch who haunts the dark, And fills with love my mind. ~George Burrow

He’s got fire for a heart, and I’m scared of burning by Samcgrath (11k)
Harry returns to England to help solve a particularly tricky case but nobody bothered to mention that he’d be working with Malfoy, who seems just as happy about it as Harry. In his absence, the wizarding world has changed in ways Harry’s having some trouble adjusting to while Malfoy struts around in his elegant robes and effortlessly charms everyone he lays eyes on. Months of grappling with his own feelings, trying to understand Draco’s, pining day in and day out - it can get a little tiring especially when Draco Malfoy is as infuriating as ever.

The Art of Seduction by playout (2k)
Harry and Draco are Auror partners assigned to go undercover at a muggle gay bar frequented by drug-dealing wizards.
Everyone knows Draco’s gay, but that Harry has been nursing a crush on the pompous arse for years is not so well known.
What could possibly go wrong?

The Expert by FantasyFiend09 (11k)
Harry finally gets a good case, but the Aurors are going to need some outside help.

These Little Things (That Guide Me to You) by huldrejenta (4k)
Harry realises his true feelings for Malfoy just as Malfoy decides to go travelling to find himself. Sometimes love means letting someone go. Sometimes going away will show you where your true home is.

The Perils of Peach Picking by sonata_de_morte (2k)
Draco Malfoy was a terrible person. On top of being a terrible person, he was a sodding tease. On top of being a sodding tease, he was fucking gorgeous. Too gorgeous for his own fucking good, Harry Potter thought mutinously.

You Were Crushed (Just Like Me) by firethesound (4k)
Something finally comes of Harry’s embarrassing crush on Malfoy. (Well, two somethings. Someones. Whatever. Also all of Harry’s friends are terrible.)

Voices From The Fog by noeon (13k)
After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Hidden in the Depths by envy_venis (21k)
Sometimes we know exactly what we’re looking for, even if it isn’t quite clear how to reach it.

Take the Air by dysonrules (50k)
Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the worst, most anti-social, rude, and annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry. Or perhaps he is only that way around Harry…

He’s got fire for a heart, and I’m scared of burning by Samcgrath (110k)
Harry returns to England to help solve a particularly tricky case but nobody bothered to mention that he’d be working with Malfoy, who seems just as happy about it as Harry. In his absence, the wizarding world has changed in ways Harry’s having some trouble adjusting to while Malfoy struts around in his elegant robes and effortlessly charms everyone he lays eyes on. Months of grappling with his own feelings, trying to understand Draco’s, pining day in and day out - it can get a little tiring especially when Draco Malfoy is as infuriating as ever.

Also, if you have a copy Drop Dead Gorgeous by Maya is a very good Pining!Harry fic. :)


Shawn Mendes
Words ~ 1,600
Note ~ I had a heated conversation with a friend over this topic, then the same one with my mum, so decided to write a story sort of based on it.

Slamming the car door shut I didn’t even wait for Shawn, trying my hardest not to stomp my way to the front door. So far I’ve managed to keep my emotions contained, but it was only a matter of time before I exploded.

Another car door slammed shut, this time it was much more aggressive. From behind me, I heard the doors lock followed by the sound of angry footsteps. Shawn had just made it to the front door as I unlocked it, and I was seriously considering shutting it in his face, but his hand got in the way before I could.

“Alex.” His voice was calmer than I expected, but still held a sense of authority to it.

I didn’t reply, not wanting to start another screaming match in front of some random persons apartment. Instead, I flashed him a harsh look before starting the journey up the four flights of stairs to the apartment. Shawn sighed but didn’t say another word as he trailed behind me.

Neither of us said anything as the apartment door banged shut. Or when Que made some sly comment about the tension in the room before quickly evacuating to her room. And we were still silent as we made our way to the kitchen.

Opening the over head cupboard, I was searching for a glass when I sensed Shawn creeping up behind me, placing his hands on the counter either side of me, trapping me against his body. I struggled not to gag at the strong sent radiating off his clothes.

“Baby, please talk to me. Why are you mad?” Shawn pleaded, finally breaking the silence.

Biting back the harsh laugh that threatened to escape, the cupboard closed with another loud bang as I turned to him. A small smile flashed onto his face, but it was quickly wiped away when he saw the look on mine.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stopped him from pulling me any closer, “You told me you had quit.”

A deep sound rumbled through his chest, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the worktop harder. Shawn didn’t even try to hold his angry laugh, “Let me guess; you’re not angry, your disappointed.” He mocked the silly little saying I always brought up during joke fights.

“Oh no, I’m angry as hell.” I shot down his sarcastic response, “I’m angry that you lied to me. I’m angry that you’re still smoking.”

Heat rolled off his body as he released his death grip on the counter, scrubbing his fingers through his hair, “I’ve tried to quit.”

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough.” Maybe my words where too harsh, but he really needed to hear them just as much as I needed to get them off my chest.

“Don’t say I haven’t tried hard enough, because I have. You don’t understand how addicting it can get.” Shawn’s attempt at reasoning was pathetic.

“No, I don’t know how addicting it is because I’ve never been stupid enough to try them in the first place!” I finally let out the laugh, “Not only that, but you’ve been lying to me for three months Shawn. What else have you not been telling me?”

Shawn’s face softened at the way my voiced cracked towards the end. Tears were already building up behind my eyes. Welp, now who’s the pathetic one?

A hand reached out to grab my cheek, but I jerked away, “You’re not touching me until you stop.”

“What?” Shawn choked on his words, “Alex, you can’t be serious?”

“Hey, if you want to kill yourself by inhaling those death sticks, that’s your choice. But I’m not letting you touch me while you do.”

“Are you really making me choose between you and cigarettes?”

“Yeah, I am.” I shot back. I stared at him for a moment before turning to walk out the door. But like always, Shawn had to have the last word.

“This is stupid, Alex! You’re going to cave!”

I didn’t cave. We went four hours without talking to each other. I think the only reason I went so long was because of the video I was editing, otherwise I would have caved in the first hour.

Shawn wasn’t enjoying it much either. Whenever I looked up at him, he made a big deal of getting up to smoke. By the sixth time, even Que and Katie were getting annoyed to the point in which they locked the door to the balcony. Shawn didn’t take too kindly to this and ended up storming out the apartment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t like the boy but I don’t want to see him dead.” Que stated as the door swung close.

I bit the inside of my cheek, not saying a word.

And that was it. No one heard from him until he was suddenly storming into my room hours later.

“Where the hell have you been?” I sat on the bed, attempting to distract myself from going out of my mind. This whole thing was stupid. I was being stupid. In reality I knew he was fine, but that didn’t stop all these horrible scenarios from playing out in my head.

“Out.” Shawn spat, not once did he look at me as he stripped off his coat, disregarding it on the chair behind my desk.

“Shawn, it’s ten to one in the morning, in the middle of winter. You weren’t just out…”

“Look, I don’t need you mothering me all the time.” He snapped, slamming his fist against the desk making me jump a little.

“Well sorry, I was worried about you.” Shawn flinched at the way my voice cracked. Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. God, I hated my emotions sometimes. He flinched again, this time as I shoved a pillow against his chest. He stared down at the object with confusion, “You can sleep on the sofa tonight.”

“You can’t just kick me out! It’s my bed too!” He wasn’t even trying to keep quiet, not caring if he woke my flatmates up.

I bit back all the witty responses I had stored, instead settling for some very intense eye contact. Whole body tense and radiating anger, Shawn eventually gave up, slamming yet another door.

And his lack of trying hurt, a lot. But it was late and I was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to start another argument with him. So I went to bed, alone, and ended up crying myself to sleep.


Four days later and we got by on one word conversations. I sat in my room working on some papers when Shawn walked in, holding a teddy bear and a book.

“Can we talk?” He asked in a soft voice, placing the presents on the desk next to me. I tried to hide my smile as I picked up the book, running my fingers over the cover, realising it was one of the books on my ‘To Buy’ list that mysteriously disappears late last night.

Placing the book back on the desk, I turned to face Shawn who now sat in the bed. Without a word, he opened his arms. I fought the urge to run over and hug him, not wanting to give in and lose the battle so easily. And even though I really did miss talking to him and cuddling him, he still really pissed me off.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Shawn grabbed my hand, tugging me off the chair and closer to him. There was still a lingering smell of smoke and nicotine surrounding him, and while it wasn’t as strong as before, it was still disgusting.

“I’m sorry. I was being a giant dick over the whole thing.”

“Yeah, you were.” I agreed making him laugh. I smacked him in the chest, “This isn’t funny, Shawn. You’ve been lying to me for months. I found out through Katie who found the photo on the Internet.”

“I know. I’m really, really sorry.” He looked down at his hands as they closed around mine, swinging them from side to side, “I knew you didn’t like it when I smoke, so I thought I could hide it when I was away. I just didn’t want to stress you out more than needed.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” I pulled my hands away, but instead getting the hint and letting me go, Shawn’s hands found the small of my back, “You are literally killing yourself with those things.”

“I mean, we’re all dying anyway…”

“That’s not an excuse!” I gave up trying to be serious as Shawn started laughing again. Pressing a kiss against his neck, my head found his shoulder while his fingers drew soothing patterns along my spine, “I don’t want to see  you damaging your body like this." 

"I know.” He mumbled into my hair, “I’m going to quit, like actually quit this time.”

“Mhm.” I didn’t 100% believe him. I mean, he said this last time, and look how that went.

Shawn moved so I was looking at his face, “I mean this time. I’ve already gave my last couple of packs away to this homeless guy-”

“-wait, what?”

“Long story. Basically, I’m done. I’m probably going to be angry for a while, and I might slip up, but I’m done. Okay?”

I stared at him for a moment, not sure whether or not to believe him.

“Okay.” Nodding my head and left a small peck on his nose.

“Don’t I get a proper kiss?” Shawn pouted, and he really looked adorable, but I still wasn’t going to kiss him.

“Your breath still stinks.” I moved to sit on the desk chair, picking up the book again, “And I’m washing all your clothes.”

“I’m not complaining about that.” Shawn playfully winked at me and flopped onto my bed and purposely rolling around, covering the sheets in the horrible smoky sent.

Rolling my eyes, I walked away from the annoying goof and towards the living room, not before getting the last word, “On second hand, do it yourself.”

This is war

pairing:  More of a mutual hate? Ivar slightly turned on by your antic’s, I guess Ivar x Reader

fandom: Vikings. Modern University student, disgruntled flatmate AU

warnings: Coarse language, hinted masturbation, extremely antisocial behaviour, dead animals

Prompt from: @whenimaunicorn Friday Night Ritual (It’s Friday night where I live) this is just for fun  I thought of this when I saw the photo above and thought why not?

This was it, you told yourself. You’d had it. This had to stop. This was the seventh time this week alone. You didn’t mind music, hell, you even loved the song that was playing right now, but you could not sleep with ‘Hit the Road Jack’ blasting out of your flatmate’s room at 1:00 am. You didn’t know him very well. You shared a kitchen, living room and bathroom, the rest of your time you spent in your room studying or out working shifts at the Petrol station. The landlord Floki had said that he was a family friend, also he advised that if you kept out of Ivar’s way, you’d be fine, whatever the hell that meant. 

The conditions of your stay were fine by you, the flat was relatively nice, in your price range and close to the train station. You had no problem’s with your flatmate. You hardly even saw him. Sometimes he would be in the kitchen when you went to get something or he’d be watching TV. You smiled and said hello, but he would just glare back say the occasional hi or hey. And that was the way things were until, the second week in when you accidentally ate his favourite cereal. To you it wasn’t a big deal, you’d honestly made a mistake and grabbed the wrong box when you went for a midnight snack. You brought him a new box and put a post-it note on it saying that you were sorry. And that’s how it all started.

You’d gone to get ready for a lecture the next day. You had a shower and went to dry your hair with the hair dryer. You turned it on only to get a face full of baby powder. You sputtered and shrieked, but after you laughed. Yeah, okay, you had to admit that was pretty funny.

“Okay Ivar, I supposed I deserved that, good one!” You sung out to him across the house, but you got no reply. You sighed, would it really kill him to say something other than; hey, hi, good, hmm, yes, no and bye? You cleaned off again and left for your lecture. That night you came home from your shift and you couldn’t wait to finally get some shut eye. You opened the door to your room and flopped onto your bed, only to jump back up and scream in pain as what felt like a dozen needles dug into your flesh. Heaving, you threw back the covers to find forks strategically taped exactly where you had flopped on the bed. Okay, this was not funny. How the hell did he even get into your room? You had locked it with a key.

You marched to his room and pounded on the door. He opened it with a smug expression on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Ivar, I am sorry about your cereal, but forks, really?”  

“Oh it’s not just about the cereal,” he snarled, his face contorted into a wicked grin.

“Okay?” You took a step back, “What is this about then?” He actually looked quite scary.

“I was quite happy here by myself until you showed up, leaving the teaspoons wherever the hell you like, kicking ice cubes and crumbs under the fridge, putting the water bottle’s back half empty and your hair…”

“What about my hair?” You asked defensively.

“You shed like a dog, it’s fucking everywhere!” You felt as if you’d been slapped, did he just compare you to a dog?

“What is your problem!?” You yelled at him.

“You!” He growled back, but then he smirked, “But you won’t be for much longer, I will get rid of you, just like the last one,” he sneered and he slammed the door. Leaving you confused and slightly scared. What did he mean like the last one? Was he a serial killer?

The days past and his meaning became clear; he wanted you to move out. However, you were determined to stay a thorn in his side. You endured; food dye in your toothpaste, your clothes changing colour in the wash, him buying a universal remote and randomly changing the channels while you were watching TV, an ice bucket challenge in the middle of the night, even, finding a dead mouse in your shoe and a frog in the coffee pot but, you drew the line at continuous sleep deprivation. You marched to his room again and pounded on the door.

“Okay asshole I am willing to negotiate with you!” You screamed over the music. It suddenly stopped and the door swung open, he greeted you with a triumphant smirk plastered across his face.

“So,” he drawled, “When will you be leaving?” You clenched your fist.

“I will not be leaving!” You fumed. He snarled and turned back to the stereo, you grabbed his wrist before he could flip it back on, “I know you can’t sleep either while that’s blasting.”

“I won’t stop until you are gone and I get my flat back, this is war,” he snatched his hand back.

“You are insanely petty, you know that? The flat was never yours, it belongs to Floki! Stop acting like a child! I’m staying here, whether you like it or not and you’re going to have to either, deal with it or move out because I sure as hell can’t afford anywhere else!” You screamed at him. He stiffened and looked at you curiously.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, hold the record,” he commented looking you up and down

“What record?”

“The record for longest stay; four weeks two days, before that it was only two weeks.You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black,” you spat before turning around and storming out of his room. The music started up again. You turned back around to see him flipping you the bird in the hallway. “Really? Grow up Ivar,” you commented before you grabbed your bag and headed out the front door.

“Where are you going? Are you finally leaving?”  

For once you smirked back at him, “If you want a war, you’re going to get one. I’m bringing down the thunder Ivar, surrender or batten down the hatches.”

You went to the 24hrs corner store. Not only were you going to need, weapons, tools and ammunition you were going to need protection and provisions. You had three brothers, you were a prank war veteran, but this was no laughing matter, your residence was at stake. When you finally got to the checkout the clerk looked at your items and then to you.

“Don’t ask,” you warned and slapped your card on the desk, the clerk only nodded and scanned the items.

“Are you okay hun?” She asked slightly concerned.

“I haven’t slept in two days and there’s a frog in my coffee pot. No, I am not okay.”

“Boyfriend trouble?” She asked handing you your groceries.

“I wish it was that simple,” you murmured and headed back to your flat.

The first thing you did was lock your door, then you barricaded it. You had no lectures or shifts tomorrow, but you knew for a fact that Ivar did, you had taken a photo of his timetable he left on the kitchen bench. Revenge would come, but not now, you thought to yourself as Annie Lennox’s voice drifted through the flat singing ‘Sweet Dreams’. Sweet dreams indeed you smiled as you pulled out your industrial-grade earplugs and slipped them into your ears.  

The next day you didn’t waste your time. You avoided the trip wire in the hallway and made a beeline for his room. You experimentally turned the door knob. Locked. You took out your key, now was the moment of truth, was Floki a real cheapskate? Had he installed the same locks? You slid the key in and it miraculously fitted and turned. So that’s how Ivar was sneaking into your room. You smiled and stood back, not stupid enough to stand in front of the opening door in case he booby trapped it. But after nothing happened it appeared that he thought you were either stupid or had no lock picking skills. You hauled your supplies into his room and got to work. When you were done in his room you pulled out your phone. You opened the phonebook and found the number you were looking for and dialled it. You couldn’t wait for Ivar to get back home.

He came home at five o’clock. He opened the door and slipped on the oil you had placed there moments before.

“Welcome home, flatmate,” you smiled as you sat on the couch sipping your tea.

“Amateur,” he grunted picking himself off the ground.

“I tried my best.” You shrugged feigning defeat.  You wish you could follow him and watch the chaos unfold with your own eyes, but you lurking down the hallway would make him suspicious. You didn’t worry though, you had hidden a camera in his room. You wondered what would get him first, the chair or the bed. A loud hoot of a fog horn and a scream of shock answered your question. The chair.

“You’ve been in my room?!” He raged.

“Oh yeah I hope you didn’t mind, I had a bit of a clean up in there. See, you had so many clothes and I thought that there were so many people in need, so I donated them.” You smiled sweetly. “Oh,” you added, “And I found your porn stash you pervert, that’s gone too.”

You heard him start stomping down the hallway cursing. Time to go. You ran to your room and shut the door and locked it before he reached it.

“You coward! Come back out here!” He slapped your door angrily. You didn’t actually donate his clothes, they were safely wrapped up in plastic bags under your bed, but the porn stash? Well, it rested in pieces.

“You thought I was a problem before? How do you like me now mother fucker!” You taunted. You heard him rustle the keys, and scratch at the lock. You smiled, ah revenge was sweet.

“What the fuck?” he cursed.

“Also, I figured out how you’ve been getting in here, I had a locksmith come today. Give it up Ivar.”

“Okay, well played, well played. I didn’t know you had it in you, but you’ll have to come out sooner or later,” he hissed.

“Nope, I’m set for a few days. I have a cooler, a bucket, food and water in here. Do you yield?”

“Never! When you come out I will make you regret this, I’ll have Floki evict you,” he snarled.

“What? Can’t you get rid of me yourself? What is it now? Hmm… four weeks and three days?”

You heard him storm off grumbling something under his breath.

You smiled as you heard the smoke alarm go off accompanied by a string of curses. That would be him microwaving the aluminium foil you taped to the underside of his favourite plate.

“Do you yield?” You yelled out.

“Go to hell!” You got in response. You smiled, you were enjoying this too much.

“I have your clothes,  if you give up and allow me to live in peace and admit that I am worthy of staying here, I’ll give them back to you,” you cooed. You heard him storm back to his room, moments later you heard a disgusted yell. That would be the live crickets you put in his bed. Half an hour later you heard laughter. Mad, broken laughter. You assumed that would be because of the Nicolas Cage face you had pasted to the inside of his cupboard or the swapped CDs in the wrong cases. You frowned as you heard footsteps approach your door. What was he doing now?

“Okay asshole I am willing to negotiate with you,” he spoke finally.

“There will be no negotiation, you yield, we live in peace and you admit that I am worthy of staying here and I will give your clothes back.”

“Oh but you are forgetting something,” he almost sung. You creased you brow.

“And what’s that?”

“I can change the Wifi password.”

“No!” You shrieked. That evil bastard!

“Are you ready to negotiate?”

You couldn’t risk it. You opened the door. Ivar strode in and sat at your desk.

“Now what?” You shrugged, “I’m not leaving.”

“Neither am I,” he stated.

“Well it seems we agree on one thing, we both want to live here. So can we live in peace?”

“I think we can, If you give me my clothes back and never cross me again.”

“I will, if you don’t cross me again and you swear never to change the Wifi password. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he nodded and you shook his hand. He seemed to hold some kind of newfound respect in his eyes. Smiling you bent down and reached under the bed to retrieve his clothes. You turned back around and caught him quickly averting his eyes. Wait? Was he just staring at your ass? You looked back to him and frowned, don’t be stupid, you told yourself. You infuriate him. He would not be one bit interested in you.

“You are a worthy opponent, and you by far, are my favourite flatmate,” he grinned darkly.

“Well you’re not my favourite flatmate, but you keep me on my toes,” you smiled and shoved his bags of clothes in his arms and herded him out the door. He got to his room before he turned to you again.

“By the way, I was bluffing, only Floki can change the Wifi password. I just needed a way to get you to listen to me,” he smirked, “You still need to prove you’re worth keeping around.”

Damn it, you fumed. He had no real leverage, he tricked you into a truce!

“Oh go fuck yourself!” You hurled the first insult that came to your mind.

“Perhaps I will,” he turned back to you, you gawked like a fish out of water. “But trust me,” he continued, “After this, I won’t be imagining that my hands are my own, my favourite flatmate,” he smirked suggestively and shut the door behind him locking it, leaving you a flustered mess. You buried your face in your pillow and groaned. You bolted up in shock when you realised you had left the camera in his room, rolling. Fuck.

Analysis - Why the season 3 ending was happy but left many of us with a weird feeling.

Okay, I have been trying to not make this post, but more and more people in the fandom are slowly driving themselves and other people crazy over having a weird feeling about Even and Isak at the end of season 3. 

That weird feeling isn’t coming from nowhere. The end of the season was happy and peaceful, but something was definitely off. 

In order to get there we need to start at an earlier point of the season: 

Originally posted by gallavich

Yes. The pool scene. See, Isak is 17 years old. He has changed himself to fit in so desperately because he was so scared of being gay, being different. This scene was a step towards his real self, after all that had happened previously: joining Even after he supposedly forgot his ID, making eye contact with Even as they were both making out with the girls and so on. 

At this point, Isak was, even if it was just for a moment, embracing himself and his sexuality. “This guys likes me and I like him, that’s all that matters for the moment.” And this is, I’m 100% sure, where his true character development started. 

Originally posted by inlovewithpainfulotps

Now begins the Honeymoon Phase. Every couple has these. Everything seems picture-perfect. You ignore each other’s flaws and anything that could possibly be an issue in the relationship is being ignored because of course, both parties in the relationship think that this is how it’s always going to be and that it’s never ending. So, of course, in the beginning it didn’t feel much like an issue when Isak mentioned that he’d be better off without mentally ill people in his life. Statistically the honeymoon phase lasts 6 months. But…

Originally posted by escapetoreallife

The kitchen scene happened. For Isak and Even, it still belonged to the Honeymoon Phase. I, personally, felt like something was off. Surely, Even was acting in love, but so much that even Isak was overwhelmed by it. In my opinion, in love or not, Even was way too ecstatic about being there, being with Isak. It didn’t suit his character the way it was portrayed before and even though I didn’t think about anything bad at that point, it was clear to me that this was the beginning of the manic episode kicking in. 

Originally posted by skamdaily

This was around the time Isak realized something was off. As a side note, I’d like to mention that this was a perfect representation of a manic episode. Not every manic episode is 24 hours of pure ecstasy. It’s a very internal act, the person feeling like being under electricity. It’s up to their own condition if and for how long they can keep it together. Some can never keep it together, some can but lose it eventually. This is what happened with Even. He was acting normal. Happy, but normal. Until happiness turned into a trigger for his ecstasy and he lost it when talking about marrying Isak. Later in that clip we could see Isak’s face fall, because he captured the moment and noticed that something was off with Even. (I was incabable of finding a gif, sorry) 

There were several similar moments like this, which Isak seemed to have not noticed because he was asleep. For once, Even’s restlessness at night, how he was constantly walking the hotel room. Of course Isak noticed that Even wasn’t sleeping, but at these times he didn’t think it could be something bad. 

Originally posted by natasharomanoff

I skipped the Even-leaving-the-hotel-entirely-naked bit because that’s when we all knew what was going on, even before Sonja came up and said something. I’d like to mention this part tho, because Sonja said something that hit Isak. 

She was basically implying that Even’s feelings for Isak weren’t love, but mania. People who are aware of bipolar disorder know that this couldn’t have been true. But Isak, a 17 year old, who has only faced the mental illness of his mother before, did something every 17 year old would’ve done: He believed her. At least for the rest of the night or the weekend, Isak spent wondering how much truth there was to Sonja’s words. 

Originally posted by duerdigg

Then there is Magnus Fossbakken, actual hero of 2016. He says something that Isak needed to hear in order to make a move towards Even. “She’s not crazy, she’s bipolar.” Sure, it was about his mother but it applies to every person with a mental illness. Isak has lived with his mother long enough to assume that mentally ill = crazy. Magnus, however, tells him the complete opposite. 

So Isak tries reaching out to Even. And this is where for Isak, the exhausting part began.

Originally posted by maclexa-bane

Isak tried reaching out to Even. He doesn’t get a reply once, but he already guesses it’s because he’s having a depressed episode now, after Magnus told him it could be. Still, he spends the entire week stressing about it, his mind is filled with doubts, which is very clear when he’s talking to his dad, telling him that it’s over, plus the constant advice he’s taking from his friends. 

Originally posted by tarjeisandvik

The night of the concert comes, It’s visible that Isak is still worried when he approaches his parents. Then he gets a text from Even, and at first Isak smiles because he’s taking it as a good sign. 

Then, however, it is again very clear that Isak has spent the entire week stressing and worrying about Even, because he suddenly realizes that something about that message is off. Isak is terrified

When he finally gets to the school, telling Even that he’s not alone… that is Isak Valtersen, accepting Even Bech Næsheim’s mental illness. But accepting it does not equal knowing everything about it. 

Originally posted by softestisak

Isak is taking care of Even. He’s worried about Even’s well-being more than about his own. He’s worried if he’s handling this entire situation well and he wants to do the best that he can, so he does make the mistake to let the Kollektivet start an Even-watch. 

Isak is forgetting about himself, yet, still quite happy because he knows where Even is, what Even is doing. And eventually, Even does get better and we can thank the Kollektivet and Isak, but there’s also some down-sides to that. 

Originally posted by skamdaily

I didn’t mention this earlier in the post, but I remember quite well, in 8:10 Even was talking about Sonja and how she always tries to be in control of him, making it very clear that this is why he’d detached from her. 

So, the kitchen scene in 10:10 triggered my senses. Since I’m doing this in order, that scene comes before my final-final thoughts. 

Isak has spent the past week watching over Even, even involving his flatmates so he’d be constantly insured Even is doing good and he’s being watched. In the kitchen, he’s telling Even that he’s not getting any of the weed because it’s bad for him. These originally weren’t even Isak’s words, they were Sonja’s. Isak just straight-up assumed that Sonja was right and took it over into his own relationship with Even. He’s already showing controlling behaviour. 

Isak said he doesn’t know if Even is the man of his dreams and for the rest of his life. And I am 100% sure that this has 2 reasons. 

1 - In the past week alone, Isak has learnt to take things minute by minute, day by day. And that’s what he’s doing now. The thought of thinking about being with Even in 10 years doesn’t appear here. He can think about the next minute, or about the next day. 

2 - Isak has come to figure that he needs to get to know Even and his mental illness better before he can come up and say “Hey, I’m going to marry this guy and spend my life with him.” The past week with Even has shown him that he’s not only dating that boy, but also, in a way, his mental illness. In order to know if Even is the man of his dreams, Isak will have to learn to fully get to know the unpredicable ways of Even’s illness and also understand that hell can break loose even when everything in Even’s life seems okay for the moment. And Isak knows that.

I’ve had people tell me that Isak doesn’t seem as much in love anymore as he did in the beginning, and I raise you a simple reason: 

Isak still loves Even. So much that, in the past 2 weeks, he spent all of his energy into trying to find ways to make Even feel better. Isak simply is tired. While Even regained energy from being around people he loves and who love him, Isak has lost a lot of energy trying to regain Even’s, plus planning the Kosegruppa party plus figuring himself out in the past months. So a thing that Isak needs to learn as well is that someone else’s mental illness can exhaust him if he puts too much into it. 

Even doesn’t need a full-on 24/7 care program when he’s down or manic, he just needs someone who doesn’t worry but is still there for him as mental support. 

Originally posted by softestisak

Now, where does the unwell feeling come from when the episode itself seemed happy? Let’s be real, the ending was somewhat weird. 

I do not think that they are going to break Even and Isak up. For this, they gave too much hope for mentally ill people who’ve always struggled with the thought of never being lovable enough hence to their condictions and for lgbt+ people who spent ages trying to avoid figuring themselves out because they are scared of being different. 

I do think, however, and I take this as an obvious message from Skam, that if we get to see more of Even and Isak (at this point I’m 80% sure we’ll get an Even season next), we will get a lot of drama and new obstacles for Isak and Even in their relationship. Isak slowly taking control of Even is probably one of the main issues that could cause a lot of trouble between the two of them. 

Generally, I’m 100% sure we’ll be fine in the end and completely satisfied with their story, but we will suffer from several heart attacks and anxious days. 

Just don’t stress about it, Julie knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Season four is at least 3 months from here. Life is now. 

anonymous asked:

Fluffy wolfstar? Non magical au, if you can? Thank you xxx ((Your work is so amazing and beautiful, I love it so much))

Sirius groaned as his fifth alarm went off on his phone. Having a lecture at 8am was an unreal kind of torture that he was going to write someone about. He wasn’t sure whom, but he would. Just as soon as he made the effort to get out of his nice warm bed. 

He shoved his long hair into a bun and haphazardly brushed his teeth. He only had ten minutes to get to campus, which was fifteen minutes away. 

“Why do you sign up for early classes?” James asked, passing by the open bathroom door. 

“I didn’t have a choice,” Sirius answered with a mouthful of toothpaste. He spit into the sink before going on. “It’s a mandatory class and this was the only time it was offered.” 

“You’re going to be late,” James said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I know that,” Sirius said, shoving his best friend out of the way. He grabbed his favorite pair of ripped jeans from his bedroom floor and a random t-shirt that smelled okay before sliding on his black bomber jacket and heading outside.

In his rush, he failed to notice that the steps were icy and practically fell on his ass, or he would have if it hadn’t been for someone catching him at the last second and saving his bottom a bruise. 

“Careful,” a deep voice said, the person speaking gripping Sirius’ arm and keeping him steady.

Sirius looked up and fell like he might swoon and fall over again. “Thanks,” he said, taking a deep breath and trying to repress his sudden and inconvenient crush. “You saved me.”

The stranger laughed, the motion making his curls bounce around his head. Sirius decided it was his new favorite thing. “I don’t think it was anything quite that serious.”

“No, it was,” Sirius insisted, placing his hand on the stranger’s shoulders. 

The stranger smiled and pushed his curly fringe off his forehead with his free hand. Sirius was immediately overcome with the want to play with this man’s hair but imagined that would be too forward. 

“You seemed like you were in a hurry,” the man said. “I don’t want to keep you.”

“Me? I don’t have anywhere to be. Free as a bird, I am. I’m Sirius, by the way. Sirius Black.”

“Remus Lupin,” the man answered with a small smile. “Nice to put a face to all the stories.” 

“Stories?” Sirius asked, feeling his heart drop. 

Remus chuckled. “I live across the hall from Marlene McKinnon. She’s had a tale or two.” 

“Lies, all vicious lies,” Sirius insisted, moving in closer to Remus for warmth. 

“I don’t know, you seem like trouble,” Remus responded, leaning in as well. 

“Only when I want to be,” Sirius shot back, grinning up at Remus. 

“I can see that,” Remus said, sliding his arms around Sirius’ waist to hold him steady. “How are you not freezing right now in just a t-shirt and a jacket? You do realize it’s winter, right?”

“I run hot,” Sirius answered with a wink. 

Remus laughed and shook his head. “I think you must be the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met. Now I know the stories are true.”

“I’m not that bad, I promise,” Sirius informed him, dropping his head down into the crook of Remus’ neck, hiding his face from the wind against the lapel of Remus’ peacoat. 

“Are we just going to have a bit of a cuddle here on the front steps?” Remus inquired, resting his cheek against the top of Sirius’ head.

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” Sirius said, sighing dreamily. “Or we could go inside. My bed might still be warm.” 

“I have a class to get to,” Remus murmured, already sounding sleepy. 

“So do I,” Sirius told him. “So what?” 

“You make a very good point,” Remus said quietly, the intimacy of it making Sirius shiver. Or perhaps it was the cold. 

Sirius pulled away enough to take Remus’ hand and lead him carefully back up the steps. He led Remus into his flat and they passed by James in the kitchen making himself an omelette. “James, this is Remus. Remus, this is my flatmate James.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Remus said politely, giving a small wave as they passed by. 

“What about your lecture?” James called out. 

“Can’t be bothered,” Sirius called back. When they got to his room, Sirius kicked off his boots and began to undress. Remus stayed by the door looking a bit uncertain. Sirius strode over in just his pants and put his hands on his hips. “You can’t have a proper cuddle completely dressed. It’s against the law.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” Remus said sarcastically. He began unbuttoning his coat and Sirius felt like a kid on Christmas morning. He remained close as Remus fastidiously removed his clothing and folded them neatly on the dresser. “Now what?” he asked, standing by the door in just his underwear. 

“Now I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me,” Sirius answered, grinning triumphantly. 

“I thought I came up here for a cuddle,” Remus said skeptically. 

“Kissing and cuddling go together,” Sirius asserted with a firm nod. “They’re like peanut butter and jelly. Tea and biscuits.”

Remus took a step forward and gently brushed his lips against Sirius’. “You’re so full of shit,” he said softly before pressing his lips more firmly against Sirius’. Sirius hummed in agreement and slid his fingers into Remus’ hair, sliding them through his thick curls. 

They pushed and tugged each other over to the bed, falling onto it in a heap. Once they’d sorted themselves, they were snuggled under the covers with Sirius resting his head on Remus’ chest. When he wanted a kiss, he would lift his head up and Remus would huff in amusement before kissing Sirius tenderly on the lips. 

They eventually both fell back asleep, curled around each other, and happy to let the day pass them by. 

My Hero

Pairing: John Laurens (modern AU) x reader

Summary: Your best friend, Hercules Mulligan, is supposed to be taking you to an important ballet audition that you’ve been preparing for for months. When Herc is ill on the day of the audition, who will step in and save the day?

Warnings: Probably swearing because it’s me, overly adorable John Laurens

A/N: I don’t know if John Laurens ever had a little sister but I’ve given him one, she’s 6 years old and her name’s Katie. Yup. Just casually altering history for the purpose of fanfiction. Also I tried to keep the reader’s gender neutral :)

Originally posted by alexanderhxmiltrash

Originally posted by mariatallchief

Originally posted by balletandbeautifulthings

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Connor McDavid #13

Requested by Anon:  Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where you met Connor McDavid at like a random place and you switch numbers, and you wait for him to call/text you but he doesn’t because be is to shy??

*Here you go! Enjoy! AND! No one touches and maddens my bb Concon! >:(*

Word count: 937

Originally posted by wonthetrade

You mouthed your mobile number to yourself for the nth time that week. You’re sure you gave him the right number. You’re pretty sure you did. You’ve had this number for three years now and you can recite it in your sleep. So, yeah. You did give Connor McDavid the right number.


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Friends With Benefits - M.C.

Request: (SUMMARIZED) Michael and Y/N are in a friends with benefits relationship, and one of them is bound to fall for the other, but they have the relationship this way for a reason.

Pairing: Michael x Female Reader

Warning: Literally like a paragraph or two of smut

Michael entered the flat early that morning, holding his breath and being careful to not make any noise so he wouldn’t wake up his three other flatmates who were most likely asleep. His dark brown hair was messy and knotted, his body covered in hickies and the same clothes he wore last night, except this morning he had an idiotic grin plastered on his lips. Despite the bitch of a hangover brewing in his head, he was in the best mood of his life.

As Michael walked further down the hallway and stripped off his leather jacket, he found his three flatmates sitting around the breakfast bar, their eyes glued on him. Shit.

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File 11345 - Sherlock x Reader

File 11345 - (Sherlock x Reader)

Words - 1087

Warnings - None?

A/N - I have written BBC Sherlock items in the past, but I never posted them. This is the first one I have published, so I hope you enjoy! Also, I wasn’t given much detail into what the reader wanted, so I hope you enjoy!

Your name: submit What is this?

Being one of Mycroft Holmes ‘Minions,’ was never seemed as one of the most comfortable and satisfying jobs in the world. Of course, the pay was excellent, but the hours, tasks, and jobs which needed completing were ghastly. And the worst part, was being stuck, in preferably one of the largest filing rooms you had ever seen. 

You would rather be out, leaving the messages your boss needed, specially towards his younger brother, and flatmate. But, after falling over a few weeks prior, and badly hurting your leg, your boss had insisted you stay in the office. That, was ages ago, and your leg was next to perfect. But you were still stuck here.

Filing away information on almost everybody in Great Britain wasn’t as boring as you honestly made out. You would end up finding information on different people, facts which you found quite amusing. But, it was finding where they needed to be located, which was probably the most boring part of the job.

That was until one morning, when you had arrived in from the cold, a hot drink in one hand, your set of keys to the office in another. Of course, the place was under high surveillance, and it was almost impossible for anybody to get in. Sighing, you set your bag down on the chair, before seeing the pile of paper, which seemed to be breeding on it’s own. 

This, was going to be a long day.

Drastically, you drunk the remainder of your coffee, knowing you could get another one if you needed it. Your hands trailed along the information, before picking up a section of it, beginning to read the places where it needed to be stored. Sighing, you began to walk to the shelves, locating where each page had to be stored, some further away from another.

Although you were quite distracted by your work, and by this point, you were only half an hour into it, and was beginning to find the paper cut on your right hand quite annoying. 

It was then, you noticed the sound of the door being opened, your eyebrows quirking in confusion. You placed the stack of paper down on one of the step ladders, littered around the room, before walking towards the door, surprised by seeing two figures. 

The first was tall, with dark curls on top of his slim head, and wore a long, dark, dramatic coat. Next to him, was a shorter man, with light hair, and a plaid shirt. You began to talk, trying to make it clear that this room was not to be entered, unless there was permission. 

“Look,” you began, but the taller man talked over you, probably ignoring what you were saying. 

“I have permission to be in here.” He said, walking closer towards you. His height began to make you feel smaller. “My brother runs this establishment, so you are allowed to let me in.” That’s when you realised who this was. Mycroft’s younger brother, Sherlock. You stood, slightly open mouted, before the smaller man stepped forward, holding his hand out.

“Sorry about him. John. John Watson.” He said. You gingerly took his hand, shaking it.

“Y/N.” You replied, slightly confused about what was going on. You turned back to the man who was supposedly Sherlock, and began to question him.

”Is there anything you need? You know, I have the right to kick you out, right now.” You huffed, looking towards him. The taller man stepped back, facing you directly.

“I need information on several people. I need to know of their origins.” He says, his clear English accent reading through. You pause for a moment, before he continues. “It’s for a case.” Silently, you move towards your computer. You didn’t feel this was within your job, but yet you didn’t want to have to go and see an angry Mycroft. 

“Names?” You ask, looking up from the computer.

“Dominic Quill, and Maria Edge.” He stated bluntly, before he got bored, and continued looking around the room. For some reason, he found it almost comforting, nice. Everything was where it should be, and there was room for everything, unlike in his brain, sometimes.

“Okay. Numbers 234514, and 450395.” You murmur to yourself, beginning to locate the draws. You would have to go down one row, then the next. The two men, almost like sheep were trailing behind you now, their eyes constantly looking around,  at the amount of paperwork surrounding them. Eventually, you pulled out the two correct files, handing them to the ‘Great Detective.’ He nodded in thanks, before dramatically leaving the room.

John turned to you. “Sorry about him. He’s a bit…dramatic.”

You nodded. “I need them files back by 6pm. Understood?”

By quarter to six, you were beginning to get nervous that Sherlock and John would not return with the files, and they would be lost forever. Not only would this mean a telling-off from Mycroft, but also the fact you would have to obtain the information again. 

However, the rate of your heart began to slow, when you heard the door open, and a grumpy looking Sherlock enter, his gloved hands holding the two files, in next to mint condition. Hesitantly, you took the files, flipping through them as you did so.

”Thanks.” You murmur, placing them on your desk. You would file them away in a moment. “Is there anything else you need?” You ask, turning to Sherlock. What confuses you, is the small smile on his face, as he begins talking.

”Yes. I need another file.” He states blatantly. Your arms fall to your sides, as you huff in almost anger. 

“Come on!” You shout. “I want to go home, Sherlock.” It takes you a moment, and a face palm, but you eventually calm down, looking up to the man once more. “What file do you need?”

He smirks, satisfied with the result. “I need Y/N Y/L/N’s File.” 

You pause, quirking your head to the side. “Why mine?” 

Sherlock then proceeded to walk closer to you, so your bodies are only so far apart. You could feel the warm breath tickling your skin, as his dominating tallness began to relax.

”You’re a very special person, Y/N. You would rather be out there, solving things, than filing them away, correct?” You could only nod, before he gently took your hand in his.

”So, what file do I need? If your to become mine and John’s new partner, we need the information.”

“My file.” You reply. “File 11345.”

Request A One Shot Here! (Always Open) -


A Day In The Life

Pairing: Danisnotonfire x reader

Genera: Romance

Word Count: 1,397


Requested By: banannamontana

Warnings: None :3

               It was that time.  Time for Phil to film a new Day In The Life video.  This one was special because it would be the first one with (Y/N).  She was a good friend of theirs that had gotten kicked out of her flat and was invited to live with them.  Phil had just walked out of Dan’s room, after waking him up, and made his way down the hall talking to his camera.

               “Now to (Y/N)’s room.  You guys may not know her since I’ve never collabed with her, but she’s awesome.” He turned the camera towards the door and opened it.  “(Y/N) guess what toda- oh my god!”

               “Phil!” she yelled, looking over her bare shoulder at him, “You’re filming this?”

               He looked away from the half naked girl, turning off his camera.  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Phil repeated as he exited her bedroom.

               She sighed, reaching back into her dresser for a bra.  “Make sure you edit that out!” (Y/N) called, getting fully dressed.

               Once she was dressed and ready, she exited her room and went searching for her two flatmates.  After three minutes she found them sitting in the living room, obviously talking about the ‘incident’.  She knew this because as soon as she walked in, both of them fell silent.  (Y/N) sighed slightly and put her hands on her hips.

               “So what are we doing today?”

               The day was spent doing their usual nothing, except this time with Phil pointing a camera at the three of you.  The most exciting part of the day was when they were walking on the street and a man came up to (Y/N) with a cocky smile on his face.  He then proceeded to say something along the lines of “you got a bae, or nah?” (Well, it was the same level of stupidity).  She was about to retort with a sassy come back when Dan spoke up, saying “Hey man, why don’t you hit on someone who’s not standing next to their boyfriend.”

               When he walked away Dan looked at Phil who had put the camera down a bit to make sure everything was okay.  Then he looked at (Y/N) and she could have sworn he was blushing.  He said “Sorry about that.” And she shook her head, telling him it was fine and she was glad he had said something.  He then dropped her hand that she didn’t even notice he was holding as they walked into their apartment building.

               The next day came and (Y/N) came up with an idea. Since Phil had walked in on her changing, she decided to do the same thing.  Not that she was yearning to see him naked or anything like that.  It was just a harmless prank.  So she got up and got dressed before walking down the hall and waiting outside Phil’s bedroom door.  She listened closely for any sound, and she heard just what she wanted to hear.  Drawers opening and closing.  Before she could think twice, she turned the doorknob and opened the door.

               “Hey Phil I was wondering if you saw my-“

               “Oh my god (Y/N), don’t look!”

Her eyed widened, not seeing what she expected to see.  Standing in front of her was not Phil, but Dan standing in only his underwear and a pair of socks (both black, of course), with a bright red face.  (Y/N) blinked a few times, still processing the entire situation.  “Dan?”

               “S-sorry, I was just, why did I apologize, you’re not mad.  Uh, I needed, um, pants and Phil, uh….” His stuttering faltered as he found himself unable to make the situation better with words.  Dan grabbed the first pair of pants he could find and, not so gracefully, shimmied into them.  He ran a hand through his slightly curly hair and took a few steps closer to her.  “So, you were wondering if Phil saw your…?”

               “Huh?” she starred at him, confused for a moment, before she remembered her excuse for entering Phil’s room in the first place. “Oh, yeah, uh, I was wondering if he had seen my laptop charger.”

               Dan thought for a moment, his teeth taking his bottom lip for a moment.  Oh god, she thought, he looks so cute when he does that.  He looked back at her, “You sure it’s not in your room?”

               “I can double check.” She said trying, and failing, to only look at his face.  But how could she not?  He was just so gorgeous and beautiful and so hnng.  It was really too much to handle.  

               Dan smiled, “I’ll help you look.” He informed her, exiting the room and heading towards her bedroom.  She followed, taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves which she was beginning to feel.  In the years that she’d known Dan, she’d never seen him shirtless.  Much less pantsless.  And she had to admit, it was certainly not a sight for sore eyes.

               Walking into her room, Dan checked all the outlets and her bedside drawers for her charger.  Getting down on his hands and knees, he peeked under her bed and smiled triumphantlAnd she had to admit, it was certainly not a sight for sore eyes.

               Walking into her room, Dan checked all the outlets and her bedside drawers for her charger.  Getting down on his hands and knees, he peeked under her bed and smiled triumphantly.  “I found it.” He said happily, pulling it out from under her bed and standing up again. He set the cord down on her bed and stood in front of her.  “Sorry about before.” Dan spoke softly, “You know, that you had to see me like that.”

               (Y/N) shook her head, “It’s fine really, not like I didn’t enjoy it.”  Instantly regretting saying this, her eyes widened and she tried to save the damage she thought she’d done.  “I-I mean, I didn’t enjoy it.  What I meant was that you’re a very attractive person, and seeing you like that definitely wasn’t the worst experience of my life.”

               Dan laughed at her small rant, and then at the blush that rose to her cheeks.  “Calm down. It’s fine.” He told her, “You know, when Phil told me he walked in on you I have to admit, I was kind of… jealous.”

               She blinked a few times, “Jealous?” (Y/N) asked him, “Why would you be jealous?”

               He ran a hand through his hair, “Well, because he knows how I feel about you.  And me being my paranoid self, at first I thought he did it on purpose.”

               “How you… feel about me?” she questioned, absolutely clueless.  “What does that mean?”

               “For a smart girl,” he said, walking closer to her, “You really are thick.”

               She blushed even darker.  “S-sorry.”

               “I’ll spell it out for you.” Dan told her, reaching down and taking her hand in his.  He felt her soft skin on his rough ones and he felt his stomach do a summersault. “I like you, (Y/N).  And not as a friend.  As a girlfriend.” he let out a small laugh, “I sometimes act like you are my girlfriend.  I’m jealous, overprotective, and I spend more time with you than any of my friends.”

               The corners of her lips turned up slightly and she struggled to look him in the eye as she spoke up.  “Well, not really.  You don’t kiss me.”

               Dan rolled his eyes, “Well not because I don’t want to.  Because I’m always afraid you’ll completely reject me.”

               “You idiot.” She said, putting her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down and whispering to him “You should have done it anyway.”

               They both had the same thought at the same time. Simultaneously, they leaned forward and tightly pressed their lips together.  Both desperate for the feeling of each other’s kiss.  Using both his hands, Dan pulled her closer by her waist, slightly gripping the fabric of her shirt.  (Y/N)’s free hand rested on his bare chest, when she could feel his heart beat. She didn’t expect it to be as fast as it was.  He must’ve been as nervous yet elated as she was.  

               When they pulled away from the kiss, their eyes met and they couldn’t help but smile.  They’d both been waiting years for that moment. Who would have guessed that Phil almost seeing her half naked would have led to their first kiss?

anonymous asked:

So i was reading your prompts list and i have to ask 64 for Jealous!Sherlock :D xxx

Oh. God. Yes. (Also I kind of imagine Tom Ellis as the guy the reader flirts with? Don’t ask me why)

Prompts here x

Warnings: None

(Y/H/C)=Your hair colour

With a satisfied nod you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Little black dress, scandalously red lips and your (Y/H/C) like fresh from the sheets.

You looked like a goddess tonight.

After giving yourself one last look you slipped into a pair of High Heels and made your way into the living room.

The person standing there literally took your breath away.

You knew that this undercover mission for a very well paying and very interesting client was a one time thing, but damn, you wished you could see Sherlock in a tux more often.

After John Watson, an old friend from army  days, had asked you to move in with his best friend it had taken some time for you and the detective to get used to each other, but now you were almost best friends.

And very often you wished that this idiot would fall in love with you the way you had done it.

But Romance wasn’t something for the world’s only consulting detective.

So now were kind of just waiting for these butterflies to flutter for someone else, hopefully very soon.

“Ready to go?”

Sherlock asked without actually looking at you.

You lifted an eyebrow in slight annoyance but still answered.

“Any time you want, Mister Holmes.”

He didn’t notice the mocking undertone in your voice, so the two of you left Baker Street without exchanging any compliments.

Now this evening was gonna be fun.

“Alright, (Y/N), I want you to stay exactly here and look out for our suspect. You know the facts?”

“Of course I know the facts. What are you going to do?”

“Talk to people. Try finding out who the man we’re looking for is.”

You rolled your eyes.

Of course he got to do the fun part.

With a silent sigh you sat down on one of the bar stools.

After a while just sitting there became too boring, so you ordered a vodka on the rocks and started playing around with your phone.

“The next one’s on me.”

You suddenly heard someone say.

Ready to make a sarcastic comment you looked up- and shut your mouth.

The man looking at you surely wasn’t Sherlock, but still hella attractive.

Some flirting surely wouldn’t be bad for your confidence and additionally there was the small chance of getting Sherlock’s attention like this.

So you just smiled your best crooked smile and said ‘Thank you’ in a playful tone.

You’d been so good at this some time ago and as it seemed you still were.

“So now that the ice is broken, may I ask what a beautiful lady like you is doing alone in a place like this?”

You shrugged and emptied your glass in one single sip without even twitching an eye.

God, how you’d missed the soothing burning in your rib cage caused by your favourite liquor.

“Ah, you know, the usual. Single woman, looking for some fun.”

You innocently winked at the man with the beaming brown eyes.

He leaned closer.

“Am I fun enough? Or should I get my clown costume?”

You laughed.

He had actually made you laugh.

Excellent choice, (Y/N).

“I’m sure there’s no need for that. But we’d definitely have fun somewhere more… quiet.”

Sherlock was on a case, so he’d probably continue searching his suspect for hours.

He immediately got your hint.

“Come on.”

He whispered into your ear and made you shiver slightly.

For a moment you forgot all your worries.

No broken heart because of Sherlock Holmes’ unrequited love, just you and this charming young man.

You didn’t even ask for his name.

It wasn’t necessary.

You followed him out of the bar’s main room, away from the classical music and all these high society members London’s.

This was the best part of charity events: The anonymity. 

The two of you found a quiet hallway, both exactly knowing what was going to happen next.

The man already started stepping closer to you as you heard a deep voice behind you.

“This is my favourite human. Don’t touch.”

The man widened his eyes.

Sherlock was standing in the middle of the hallway, unarmed but still looking very, very dangerous.

Your hook up looked at you angrily.

“You brought your boyfriend?”

Looking at Sherlock provocatively you shook your head.

“Oh no. Girlfriends aren’t really his area.”

The detective didn’t show if your words had hurt him in any way, but there was something else in his expression…

You almost started laughing but managed to keep your poker face and slowly stepped behind the man from the bar.

He was standing between you and your flatmate now.

“Mr Winter? A certain Mr Garrideb accuses you of trying to bereave his heritage and if I don’t err, what I never do, he’s right. Scotland Yard is happily waiting for you outside of this bar.”

A frightened expression had appeared on the man’s pretty face and he anxiously started calculating his chances of escaping.

Then he started running into your direction, probably thinking that you were incapable of stopping him.

Oh how wrong he was.

Within the glimpse of a second you reacted, bringing him to unconsciousness with one single well aimed blow to his head.

“Nice punch.”

Sherlock commented and knelt down to attach his handcuffs to the wrists of Mr Winter.

A warm mixture of adrenaline and happiness made your heart beat faster.

This was exactly what you needed, what you had always wanted to do.

Solving crimes, kicking ass, and all of this together with the most beautiful man on earth.

You turned around to go outside and greet Lestrade as Sherlock’s voice stopped you.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?”

Suddenly the detective was standing directly in front of you.

The next thing you sensed were his freaking soft lips on yours.

“Don’t ever try to make me jealous again.”

Originally posted by foxtel

Originally posted by itsxxlucy

The Wing Collectors


Rating: T

Summary: Birthday present for the lovely @cirilee! Bit late, sorry hun ♥
Wing AU meets Mystery Trio (kind of) Stan and Ford meet up ahead of time in rather unsavoury circumstances. Ford learns some horrifying truths about Stan that puts a few things into perspective.
Decided that though it has an au name - I may write a series of most probably unrelated oneshots (that won’t all follow mystery trio/are more likely to follow canon) are going to go under the title ‘Birds of a Feather’.


AN: I should probably put that I found out about the Wing au through headcanons and then got Lee to explain more details to me :3 So I added my own twist to it. There’s a lovely short story here (link is not to main source just where I can find it easily) that is what I am basing the reasoning behind the Wing au working in my head. And because that story almost made me cry with how it deals with platonic/familial love ♥.

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Remember how I said I was too lazy to write a Valentine’s Day story? It turns out that I am filled with lies and fanfic.

Title: Valentine, Please be Mine
Genre: Romance, Soul Mate Clocks
Word Count: 2,321
Rating/Warnings: K+ for multiple kisses.
Summary: “If anyone asked, Arthur would adamantly deny that he watched any of those silly soul mate clock reality shows. But even he couldn’t resist watching the handsome American on the show featuring gay men from across the world with timers that were all set for the same date as Arthur's—Valentine’s Day.”

Link to FFnet! (or click the Read More)

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Far Far Away - Part 1

Ok so this is an AU set in modern times where Rae lives with Vicki and Amy. She met this guy who she calls F on an app called Small World, but she’s never met him in person. Hmm who could F be?And more will be revealed in later parts. 

It’s super vague but then again I never know what to write in descriptions of my fics. Anyway…. For those of you that were tagged in the last one, unless you told me you wanted to be in my forever tag, I did not add you to the tag list of this one. If anyone would like to be added to that list (or removed) just let me know!!

I hope you like it!! Thanks for reading :D

Part 1:

She stared down at the screen unsure of what to type back. What could you say to that? She wasn’t cool or suave, so basically anything she said would be shit.

The message seemed to glow brighter as time passed, somehow judging her for how long it was taking her to think of something to say in response.

F: So when will I finally get to see you in person?

She couldn’t type the truth. She couldn’t tell him that she knew once he met her or saw how unattractive she was he would never want to talk to her again. And even if she did meet him, she felt like part of the reason she was so brave and able to say half of what she said to him was because she was so anonymous with him. He was a blank slate, no assumptions based on appearances, nothing like that.

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