his tag has been pretty empty lately and i'm not okay with that

anonymous asked:



So let’s say Harry’s a police officer. And at his police station, there’s a rather cute secretary girl who is in charge of organizing meetings, the filing system, and things of the such. They’ve known eachother for a while now, being in the same friend loop since she’d met Niall in college and he knew him even before college.

They’d gone out for drinks together, movie nights, eachother’s birthday parties– the whole shabam. They’re pretty close, to say the least.

And Harry has this crush on her that he can’t shake, but he’s too shy to ask her out. She’s really adorable, he finds. Kinda clumsy and really sweet. The kind of sweet where she brings him, Niall, Liam and Louis coffee almost every Friday as a gift for “keeping our streets free of psychopaths and, even worse, teenagers breaking curfew.”

And he sense that she might return his feeling because out of all the coffees she brings, his is always special. All of them are usually plain old black coffee, except for his. Sometimes he’ll taste hints of nutmeg and cinnamon. Sometimes vanilla chai. And in the winter, his favorite hot chocolate from the cafe down the street. She always puts in a little extra effort for him, without saying a word about it. It’s their own little secret.

And one Friday night, after getting of his shift, still in his uniform since he takes it home at the end of the work week to wash it, he decides to stop by his favorite farmer’s shop halfway home. It’s a dainty little shop run by a nice elderly woman named Rue, who always knows exactly what herbs and tea leaves he likes to buy. He’d decided to stop by because he was about to run out of chamomile and he knows she closes at 9 PM.

He pulls up to the store at 8:49, rushing in just as she’s starting to close down shop. But she’s too fond of him to send him back out so she rings him up while tutting at him over the brim of her bifocals.

Next to the little shop is a small pub– one he’s been to a handful of times with some friends. And as he’s walking out, someone else is too.

And sure enough, it’s Y/N, wrapped up in a long coat in a pair of uncomfortable looking heels with an empty expression on her pretty face. Harry had noticed she’d left earlier today than usual, but hadn’t paid much attention because it was non of his business.

But he can’t help but want to talk to her.

“Y'know, it’s kinda dangerous for a girl to be out and about all on her own so late at night.”

She turns to him startled, but then gives him a playful eye roll. “Oh, yeah. 9 PM on a Friday night is most definitely the witching hour.”

And basically she tells him that her and some girl friends had planned to go out tonight and have some fun bar hopping, but that she wasn’t really feeling it much anymore. “I was excited today when I left but for some reason, it just went away after one drink. And since Valery is the one in charge of getting us all home, i didn’t bring my car and so she has to stay, meaning I need a taxi.”

“Well, i can give you a ride.” Harry immediately volunteers, signaling his car by lifting his hand towards it, grocery bag bouncing from his wrist.

“That’d be amazing, Har. Thank you so much.”

Harry gives her a small smile, thanking the universe that it’s dark out so she can’t see him blushing at the use of “Har.”

And when they get to her apartment complex, she gives him a tiny smile over the rolled down window. “Do you wanna come in for something to eat? I’ve got Domino’s leftovers that are just screaming to be eaten.”

She claims it’s a thank you for the trip, and Harry doesn’t mind at all. His Friday night is going better than he expected. He can’t say how many times he’s dreamt of spending time with her alone, just the two of them, even if it’s something as simple as munching on veggie pizza.

They entertain themselves with leaning against her kitchen island and counter, across from eachother, chatting and somehow they end up messing around by picking off the veggie toppings and trying to get them into eachother’s mouths by tossing them.

The game is going swell until Harry misaims, a piece of green olive ending up on Y/N’s eyelashes.

“You did that on purpose!” She claims, chucking a piece of pineapple at his nose and laughing when it disorients him.

“No I didn’t! But you sure did.” Another olive ends up on the top of her cheek.

After a few more chucks of food, they’re a giggling mess, picking up stuff from the ground and sticking their tongues out at eachother playfully. Harry sees a slice of green bell pepper has ended up in her hair, alerting her.

“Hold on. You’ve got a little…here, I got it.” He untangles the food from her locks, scrunching his nose as he chucks it into the garbage bin.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him softly, her eyes big and bright, probably from that one drink she’d had.

“Yeah, no problem. Saving the day is kinda what I do,” Harry taps his name tag, the words “Officer H. Styles” written into metal. “Not to brag or anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. You’re definitely bragging now.”

“I mean, officer of the year is a pretty big deal. Especially since I’m the youngest.”

She gives her eyebrows a quirk, not noticing how much closer she’s gotten to him. “Really, now?”

But Harry notices. She’s so close that when he tilts his face down to look at her, his chin presses against the center of his collarbone. He gives his lips a cocky smirk, eyes flirting over her own tinted one’s and fighting the urge to surge forward and bite them. “Yep.”

“Well, Mr. Officer of The Year…You have anything else worth bragging about?” And now her fingers are playing at the clasp of his belt buckle and he feels like there’s fire lapping at his back.

Y/N looks down at her fingers, then back up at him, eyes questioning, wanting to make sure this was okay. Wanting to know he wants it too.

And, fuck, does he want it. “Sure do. Care for some visual evidence?”

And then he’s slamming her back against the kitchen island, her hands fiddling with his leather belt as one of his hands cradles her jaw to bring her lips to his, the other shoving down the front of her jeans and toying at her clit over her damp undies, a needy whine leaving his mouth as he feels one of her hands tug harshly at his freshly-trimmed curls.

She unbuttons his uniform shirt but begs him to keep it on, saying he looks incredibly hot in it.

“Y'gonna punish me, Officer Styles? I pelted you with food, after all. Isn’t that an act of aggression?”

“You’re into that?” He breathes out heavily into her mouth, biting her bottom lip roughly and grinning into the kiss when she let’s out a tiny whimper. “God, where have you been all my life?”

Late 90s/Early 2000s Marauders Bollywood AU

  • The first ten minutes establish the conflict of the film. Enter James, a lazy playboy/rascal with few redeeming qualities. He is played by Shah Rukh Khan. He is always played by Shah Rukh Khan. 
  • Enter Lily. She probably leads a relatively tame, middle-class life. She doesn’t disappoint her parents. She is played by one of three actresses who somehow always look paler than they do in real life. Flashes between the two main characters showing their vastly different backgrounds.
  • Banter ensues. It takes them the duration of one musical number to figure out they want to bang. But they can’t yet. There’s still two and a half more hours.
  • They coincidentally run into each other all the time in spite of having very little in common. “He seems like a douche,” says Lily’s Generic and Less Pretty Friend. She’s probably right.
  • Sirius’s parents try to make him take over the family business because he’s the first-born son. What is the family business? We never find out. Sirius just sits in an office all day, looking forlorn. 
  • Peter is James’s hype man. He never has any real dialogue, only nods when James speaks or jumps in when someone tells James he’s incorrect because James is never incorrect. If he’s lucky, he will say something insightful about James’s feelings for Lily.
  • Remus is dying. What illness? It doesn’t matter. He is dying and he will never find someone to love with his heart of gold. He tells James to chase after Lily, because James is not dying.
  • Musical number dedicated to fun-loving friendship. They drive around in a car down an empty road that seems implausible for their populous location in India.
  • James and Lily spend a solid ten minutes running through fields and beaches. They have twelve outfit changes. Lily’s dupatta whips James in the face at least four times. They rub their faces together but never kiss.
  • James has an advanced degree in something but never seems to be working on anything. Probably because he is In Love.
  • Zoom in on James’s parents. They are distressed by his life choices. “You need a path,” they tell him. “Lily is my path,” he says, weeping softly.
  • Snape shows up. He manages to ruin an hour and a half set-up of a mostly happy life in the span of five minutes. Intermission.
  • Cut to London. Somehow, every main character is still Indian. There are two white characters who get brief speaking roles and everyone laughs at them.
  • Everyone’s in pleather and sequins. James and Lily reiterate through song how much they want to bang while jumping on a glass dance floor.
  • Sirius now has a Love Interest who encourages him to lead the life he really wants. It’s possibly Lily’s Generic and Less Pretty Friend. What does Sirius want? It’s unclear.
  • Sirius appears at James’s house in the rain and they have an emotional exchange about their friendship. They reference the first half of the movie heavily.
  • Lily is forced into an arranged marriage with Snape. Lily stares at herself in the mirror, crying beautifully. Everyone seems pretty chill about how clearly unhappy she is. 
  • It is the last ten minutes of the film. On the day of her wedding to Snape, Lily marries James instead. The entire wedding party is okay with this.
  • Snape apologizes. Everyone forgets what a dick he was and he and James embrace. Petunia volunteers as tribute in Lily’s place. Sirius abandons the family business to follow his Ambiguous But Highly Personal Dream. Peter says something that makes everyone laugh. Remus has been dead since intermission, but they all remember him fondly.
  • “Title reference,” says James fondly, before they cut to the slideshow of Potter family adventures in the credits. 

I was trying to write last night and was like damn I miss romantic Sterek interactions tho?? So I wrote some post-first night at Derek’s place shit to get it out of my system, THUS CREATING THE FIRST B SIDE IN OVER A YEAR.

This is like the writerly equivalent of a page of sketchy sketches, mind you so it’s nothin special BUT IDK I FIGURED I SHOULD SHARE IT ANYWAY BECAUSE I SUCK AT UPDATING. :D 

As I said, post-first night at Derek’s place after the tour, I didn’t even pretend to read this over at all and i wrote half of it on my phone so maybe autocorrect will make for something wild, who knows. :D

Happy Valentine’s Day?!

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Two weeks. Two weeks I managed to have a proper sleep schedule. Then this came along and I had to write.

Fair warning: By the time I had finished writing, it was way over four hours past my bedtime, and it might have ended up kind of… bizarre.

On Ao3

Hesekiel Agam Power, Kiel for short, led a rather quiet life. He had recently graduated from college with a degree in IT, gotten a job he could do entirely over the internet, and then moved out to the quiet town of Glendale. He somehow managed to inherit a big house out there from an old great-aunt.

Glendale was a nice place. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone, but only to the extent that there was still an illusion of privacy at the very least, and most people were friendly. The woman behind the counter at the grocery store often spent ten minutes talking to each customer, and the other people in line often joined in on the conversation. As shopping day was practically the only time Kiel met people at all, he found it nice, rather than annoying. Especially considering some of the locals had little enough regard for others privacy that they liked to pull strangers into their conversation if they had reason to. In the line of the grocery store was where he met most of his acquaintances in town.

“So you’ve moved into old Linnie’s house, have you?” asked an old lady with a teasing smile. The kind of smile only little old ladies could pull off.

“Uh, yes,” Kiel answered, smiling back. No one ever spoke to strangers in the city, and he found he rather liked this. “You live up the street, right?”

“Sure do. I’ve been thinking I should come by and give you a welcome, but I haven’t found the time I’m afraid. Will we see you in church this Sunday?”

“No. No I’m- I’m not… Christian.”

Kiel’s smile turned a little nervous, and he pulled at his collar. He hoped to dear demons that the star pendant he always wore around his neck was hidden well under his T-shirt. The little old lady only shrugged, though.

“Well, that’s too bad. You’re welcome to drop by either way. Lunch is at three.”

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minewt fluff (canonverse)

Though Minho usually doesn’t give a shit about being quiet and whatnot, there’s something about nighttime that just shuts him up. Sure, he knows that there has always been something off about the Glade, but the enrobing calmness around him tugs at a long-lost memory of his, something he can’t quite grasp. It’s unlike other memories he’s lost; it’s like something had been cruelly ripped from his heart and smashed in front of him.

He shrugs. Best not to think about stuff like that. 

So there he is, strutting towards the hammocks, his baggie of basic toiletries in his left hand. Minho doesn’t really know why he isn’t asleep yet: he’s usually passed out by 7:30. Today had been like any old day. He woke up. Choked down some of Frypan’s grub. Ran ‘till he couldn’t feel anymore. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of running past those doors at the end of each day, locking eyes with those warm hazel brown ones, tussling that blonde hair…

Minho passes by a few people before spotting Thomas to his right, a smirk tugging at his lips. Who knew the new Greenie drooled in his sleep? He pegged him as a snorer. A loud one at that.


The voice rings out, small, urgent. Newt.

Minho quickens his pace, pushing past some hammocks to Newt’s in the back. “What’s wrong?" 

He stops at the sight of the blonde, his shoulders slacking. Newt’s sitting on the side of the hammock, legs dangling off the side, eyes staring up at him expectantly. Minho groans.

"You slinthead! I thought you were dying or something.”

Newt laughs shortly. “Sorry. Got you here pretty quick though.”

“Fuck you.”

Minho kicks off his shoes, sinking into his own hammock.

“Hey, Minho?”

He narrows his eyes, keeping his gaze on the sky above him. “What?”

“Uh…” Minho hears him sigh. “I – can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” When Newt doesn’t continue, Minho rolls his eyes and turns to face him. The boy’s still sitting there, though Minho can’t quite see his eyes past the wisps of hair that cover them. “You know I won’t be able to sleep ‘till you spit it out.”

Newt shakes his head and sighs, that sort of response that makes Minho regret letting his tongue loose in the first place. “No, no never mind. I’m just tired. Not thinking straight.”

Minho’s face softens, and he swings his legs over the side, quiet enough to not wake the others. “What’s up?”

Then Newt looks up, that expression on his face that sends Minho’s heart crumbling, one of innocence and blatant sadness. That expression where his lower lip pouts out ever so slightly, his empty eyes drilling deep into the ground; Minho often wonders how such a look could plague a face as beautiful as his. “Just one of those nights Minho. Go to sleep,” he pauses before adding, “please.”

And Minho doesn’t really know how he ends up there, but somehow he’s right there beside him, holding Newt tightly in his arms.

Newt’s gripping at Minho’s nightshirt, pulling the other boy closer, so close that Minho can hardly breathe in anything other than Newt and only Newt. But Minho’s not complaining; he’s with him – that’s all he damn cares about.

And Newt’s eyes are closed, his breathing deeper, matching that of the boy’s around him. “You’re a damn shank, ya know that?” Minho says, his voice low. “Thinkin’ you’re not important. Bullshit, Newt. You’re everything to us. To me.”

A moment of silence passes where Newt doesn’t respond, but then he’s laughing, laughing so damn hard that he has to pull away from Minho to get some air.

Minho raises an eyebrow, slightly offended. “What?” 

Newt’s still gasping, but he manages to squeeze out a few words. “Never could’ve imagined s'mething so bloody romantic coming out of your mouth. Ever.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m trying to be shucking serious for once and you laugh at me.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry.” he’s still giggling, though less than before. “I’ll stop.”

“No, but all kidding aside,” Minho’s on a roll and he’s not about to stop now.  “I freaking love you, you shank. Remember that and don’t doubt it for a second. We’re gonna get out of this shuck maze, I promise. We’re gonna find a way.”

“Hope so.”

“We’ll make sure that we find those damn Creators and collectively shove our fists so far up their puny assholes that they won’t even be able to-”

Newt slaps his hand over Minho’s mouth. “Really don’t need the mental image.”


“Slim it.” Newt grins. “But thanks, Minho. Really.” 

“Anytime.” With the silence that follows, Minho decides that he’s going to cut the conversation there, or he might say something really stupid. “Now… let’s get our asses to sleep before we wake the whole Glade, a’ight? No more being sad on this fine evening.” he squeezes him one last time before plopping down on his own hammock.

But before Minho can close his eyes, he hears Newt’s voice once again, quiet, laced with sleepiness. “Minho? Love you too, by the way.”

“You better.” 

Newt laughs softly. “Good that.”

i’m trash so i finished it two days late oops

 for sarcasminho ♥