i think i might actually write fic this week. too many feels

madandsin  asked:

any famous nonfamous fics to rec?? 😆

Famous/Not Famous Fic Rec

Wholehearted 77k

AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.

When It’s Late At Night 25k

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that’s exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

The Wonderlands 150k

“Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands.”

Harry’s daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis’ girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

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What We once were

I truly hope so much that you like this story. It’s based of what was for months my reality. 

Plot: Y/N is in love with Harry and doesn’t understand why he cuts her off. 

Warnings: Mentions of violent behavior, however not in detail.

Picture isn’t mine which is quite sad. 

It was safe to say that I loved him far too much for my own good. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, eyes wide and full of warmth and with a hint of… wonder. He looked at me as though he was the only one who saw me as me, the person I truly was. And yet at the same time I know now that he also always saw me as somebody I couldn’t possibly be. Somebody I didn’t even want to be and now am glad I never became, even if it resulted in costing me him. To this day I think it was this misperception of his that doomed the two of us to fail.

Harry caused me so much unnecessary pain, forced me through a seemingly infinite amount of sleepless nights.

How had I ever made that man to somebody I cared about so deeply? I truly wish I hadn’t.

….Then.
I stumbled into Harry’s life at a time when the both of us felt terribly out of place. He’d befriended a friend of mine and was soon thrown into a new group of friends, one that I happened to be part of a well. Of course he was on good terms with everybody and held the attention of everyone.

It caught me by surprise when Harry and I became friends. I’d expected to be just as much of a bystander in his life as I was in the lives of the other’s but for some reason he made an effort to know me. I let him of course, gladly in fact since I was just as much pulled under his spell as the rest of us were and greedy for any bit of attention he could spare.

Soon I discovered that he was funny, kind and not half as cocky as he always pretended to be. Harry made me happy. It was far too easy to fall in love with him it happened without me even noticing.

….Now.
It would be nice if this story would turn into one of those that end with the two friends looking closely at each other, smile and then realize at the same time that the partner they had been dreaming of had been right there in front of them all along. What’s more beautiful than mindless flirtations turning into true words of love? I’ll say it right now this is definitely not that kind of story. If anything it’s the opposite.

….Then.
“You should come with us,“ Harry suggested one day.

We were queueing for coffee, something we did at least once a week since he’d introduced me to this part of the city where we’d found what was undoubtedly the best cafe ever. I’d somehow hoped he would invite me to the party tonight, but at the same time I dreaded the thought of going.

I bit my lip. “Wouldn’t I be a bit out of place?“

“Next!“ Moving quickly I informed the barista of our orders and payed for them both before following Harry who’d already walked over to the side of the counter where our coffee’s would be served. He smiled when I followed him.

“Rubbish,“ Harry spoke, grinning at me with that smile I thought about far too often when alone, “You’d just stick to my side like you usually do.“

This idea I liked. Harry’s grin widened when I nodded. “Okay.“

“Great!“

Harry squeezed my shoulder before glancing to our right when’re a beautiful young woman came to a stand, checked something on her phone and then moved to sit down at a table near the wall. A sour taste settled on my tongue and I cleared my throat.

“Only so that somebody’s looking after you, which isn’t a piece of cake,“ I  said, smiling when I successfully distracted his attention away form the pretty female and back to me, “Drunk Harry is a pain in the arse I’ll tell you that much.“

Harry shook his head with arched brows. „Watch it love, ’nother comment like that one and m’gonna pinch you.“

“As if you’d dare,“ I laughed, but shrieked and moved away when his fingers reached out to assault my hips. “Ouch! Be nice!“

We waited another minute or two before he thanked the barista with a warm smile while handing me my coffee.

“How much do I owe you?“ he asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“Don’t worry about it. You payed for both of us last time.“

“Oh, so now you can be nice to me, huh?“ Harry playfully nudged my side with his arm and nodded towards the exit, silently asking for us to leave. Well, less asking than demanding it.

My heart sank a little. I’d hoped we would sit down and enjoy our coffees together and through that prolong our time spent alone with one another, but I assumed he already had other plans.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,“ Harry informed me out on the street, his hand a constant warmth at the small of my back. “That way we’ll be an hour later than everybody else and there when the fun really starts.“

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Whatever you say.“

“That’s the spirit,“ Harry joked, laughing when I glared at him, “I’ll see you then.“

My heart skipped a beat when he leaned in, lips finding my cheek in a lingering kiss before he allowed his arms to wrap around my waist in a tight embrace. The untamable curls of his tickled my neck when he let his face nuzzle my skin momentarily and I giggled in delight, heart thrumming heavily upon hearing him quietly chuckle.

“I’ll see you later,“ I confirmed, more to myself than to him in order to soften the sting of us having to part, “Bye, Harry.“

I squeezed him to me one more time before letting him release me. He stepped back and for a moment I believed to see something change in his eyes. With a final wave he made his way towards the taxi station nearby while I turned to walk to the nearest bus stop.

..

Harry’s hand was holding mine tightly (his doing, not mine), our fingers intertwined and my heart singing. I smiled and let him pull me with him as he went to say hello to all of the people he knew at the bar, which were many. Nobody questioned our interlaced hands and my cheeks warmed at the thought of people not doubting for a moment that I could belong to Harry’s side.
While Harry spoke to one of his friends my eyes scanned the faces of the people around us and to my distaste found the all too familiar and rather attractive features of Cherry, Her evil eyes glared at me briefly before widening upon noticing Harry, her desire for him as clear to see for everybody as her red painted lips were. I shuddered and turned more into Harry’s side, reminding myself that it was me he’d asked to come with him and not her. I didn’t look but I could feel her angered gaze of jealously on my frame. I couldn’t fight the smile pulling at my lips. The next person I was was Jake, a friend, who smiled and raised his hand in a short wave. I waved back. Him I quite liked.

“Y/N!“

Harry’s eyes found mine briefly before he released my hand and let my friend Lucy embrace me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
When she let go again I was immediately forced into a conversation with her and before I could do anything to stop her she pulled me away and out of Harry’s sight.

The night turned out to be fun though, especially when Harry joined me shortly after saying hello to Cherry and only left my side after an hour when our friend Riley suddenly came hurrying towards us, saying that he needed to talk to Harry. I watched him walk away longingly.

“You know,“ Lucy began while biting onto the blue straw of her drink, “he really likes you.“

“We’re best friends,“ I shrugged, turning to her, “He better like me.“

“No, silly,“ Lucy rolled her eyes and nudged my arm, “I mean he fancies you. Maybe not as much as you do him since you’re practically head over heels for that guy, but still. I’m sure if you were to say anything he’d be happy to go out with you.“

With flushed cheeks I looked around us, hoping nobody had heard her words.

“I don’t want to risk anything,“ I confessed quietly, “I’d rather be his friend than be nothing at all. Besides, it’s the guy who has to take the first step, not the girl.“

At that Lucy laughed loudly, her long hair fell over her shoulders and I briefly admired how pretty she was.

“Welcome to the 21st century, Y/N. And don’t you think he already made the first step? Several times, actually? Think about it. He invited you here to come with him. He escorts you home every time you’re out late with us and he constantly calls or texts you. Jake told me the other day that he drove past the two of you when Harry was walking you home and he didn’t dare stop to say Hi, thinking he might otherwise interrupt something.

“Jake is being funny then,“ I replied, ignoring the heavy squeeze my heart gave, “Harry is like that with many girls.“

“But only with you it is real.“

I didn’t reply any further and did my best to change the subject, silently urging my heart to calm down. I wished Lucy’s words were true. I wanted Harry to adore me as much as I adored him.

….Now.
Harry didn’t adore me as much as I adored him. It was about one week after that night that he told Lucy he hated me. 
Her expression had been one of pity and I could tell it was hard for her to speak the words, fully aware that they would break my heart, but I’d begged her to tell me what it was I had done to make Harry draw away from me. And that was all she got out of him.
Harry hated me, wanted nothing to do with me and felt as though he had absolutely no place for me in his life anymore. 
And while my world shattered at his sudden change of heart, he seemingly stayed unaffected.

“What can I say,“ Lucy recalled his words were, “I guess when one door closes, another one opens.“

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

….Then.
I continued to speak to Lucy and drink, though I made sure not to get drunk so I would be sober should Harry decide to get wasted. I was to keep my word and take care of him, which I didn’t mind at all.

“Can’t believe you’re doing this for him,“ Lucy said, brows arched, “Make sure that he’s actually drunk this time.“

I rolled my eyes, remembering with a foul taste in my mouth when Harry had pretended to be drunk and forced me to drag him home, making me then walk back to my apartment alone and in the middle of the night only to later on reveal that it had all been an act.

“Wanted to see if you were a good friend or not,“ Harry had laughed after humiliating me in front of everybody, “And you passed!“

It hurt me how easily he could play with my feelings for him and I know that I should have left him then. But of course I had instead forgiven Harry without thinking about it twice.

We were interrupted by a guy named Cory. His tall figure loomed over the two of us and he looked very much out of breath. Though he didn’t know me it was my face his eyes instantly found.

“Y/N, right? You need to come with me. Now.“

I was grabbed without further explanation and dragged with such quick steps it was difficult for me to keep up. I was confused and wondered what a guy I didn’t even knew could want from me.

Though when we reached outside I realized it wasn’t Cory who needed something from me, but Jake.

My good and kind friend Jake was crying. His body shook and his face resembled the color of a sheet of paper. The blue of his eyes was swimming in tears and the evident fear in his orbs frightened me. My stomach turned when I noticed how his right cheek shone with a flaming shade of red. I stumbled towards him, heart beating heavily in my chest.

“Jake, what-“

“Y/N. No.“

I flinched at Harry’s rough words and when my surprised eyes met his I froze. With his back stood against the brick wall of the building I hadn’t noticed his presence at first but now that I looked at him not even the dark could hide the heavy movements of his chest, the raw anger in his burning eyes. Instantly my worry was for him.

“Harry? What happened?“

My eyes wandered down and the racing of my heart increased at the sight of his trembling fingers, the knuckles of his hand already swollen.

I moved towards him and reached out for his arm before my brain could catch up. “Oh god, Harry, are you alright?“

Tears threatened to form at the sight of the one I loved in pain. Harry gently squeezed my fingers.

“I’m okay, love, don’t worry. Go. I don’t need you to see this.“ This time his tone was kind.

I turned to look at Jake. He’d shrunk back when I’d moved to stand by Harry’s side instead of his and I noticed how his tears increased, smearing his flaming cheek. I didn’t understand and desperately searched for answers in Harry’s face, but his expression had already hardened again. It was when his dark eyes found Jake’s trembling form that I realized what had happened. There was no kindness in his stare.

I let go of Harry’s hand and stepped back. “Harry, what did you do?“

Jake sobbed, breaking my heart further. I felt tears burn my eyes and roll onto my cheeks before I could stop them and I turned to look at the friend I felt was like my brother. With my entirety shaking I stepped closer and tried to reach for his hand.

“Are you okay?“ It was a stupid question to ask somebody who was so clearly devastated.

Jake nodded.

“Y/N,“ Harry growled form behind me, “Leave him be and go back inside. You have no business here so stay out of it.“

His voice was back to being harsh.

Still I pressed on.

“Did Harry do that?“

I didn’t need Jake’s nod to know the answer to my question.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been a witness to Harry’s short temper. He’d lashed out at people before my eyes more times than I liked to admit, but never before at one of our friends.
Never somebody we cared about. 

At first he would always scream and if the person confronted then didn’t step back, Harry would let his muscular physic do the talking.
I’d been so frightened when it had happened for the first time as I before that incident only knew him as a kind, warm and loving guy who did everything he could for his friends. Upon meeting him I wouldn’t have ever believed he’d be the type to solve his problems with physical strength, but over time I’d learned that if you push the false buttons, he could get as angry as a hurricane and destroy everything around him.
Normally he always tried to make sure I didn’t see.

“Oh Jake,“ I cried and moved to hug him.

Harry made a sound like I imagined a wild tiger would right before killing his prey.

“Y/N, I swear to god, go the fuck inside!“

“Stop it, Harry! Can’t you see you’ve done enough?“ I was properly sobbing now, “What the hell were you thinking? You hit Jake!“

“That prick deserved it,“ Harry spoke cruelly, “Didn’t you, you little shit?“

“Hey man, calm down, okay? I think he gets it,“ Cory intervined.

He’d stayed silent until now.

Jake’s swimming orbs found my face. “I’m going home.“

I brushed my hands against the wet skin of my cheeks and nodded. My friend’s scared eyes found the man’s who stood behind me before quietly continuing.

“Come with me.“

“She’s staying, aren’t you, Y/N?“ Harry’s tone was almost mocking, “She came here with me so she stays until I take her home. She doesn’t need you to do that.“

My head hurt and I shook my head. Breathing was difficult.

“Jake,“ I whimpered, “Just go, okay? Text me when you’re home.“

I knew my reply disappointed him but at the same time it was hardly a surprise. Of course I would stand by Harry’s side still. Of course there wasn’t anyone who I would choose over him. Harry knew it, too and grinned at the both of us with an unfamiliar shade of evil in his eyes.

I faintly heard him mumble the words Good girl.

My stomach turned.

“I can go home by myself.“

Jake moved to leave and when I turned to look at Harry his expression had changed from one of anger to one of surprise. I noticed that his eyes were back to their clear green color that wasn’t at all frightening and when I took a step back and out of his reach he frowned.

“Y/N,“ he spoke softly, “C’mon. I’ll take you home later.“

I shook my head. “I want to leave now.“

He sighed. “We’ll leave now, then.“

Once more he reached out to touch me and just like before I flinched away from his touch. The blood on his hand made me sick.

“I said I can go by myself, Harry.“

..

Any other person would have understood.

Of course I couldn’t bear to be in the presence of the male who’d just inflicted such pain and fear on one of my closest friends. It was all too much and I cried on my way home, thankful that the taxi driver didn’t dare asking what the matter was.

Jake texted me that he was fine and though none of what happened was my fault I apologized profoundly for what Harry had done.
But that was it. I didn’t offer to come over and take care of him, in fact I didn’t address the subject at all anymore the moment I found out what had happened.
Apperaantly Jake had run his mouth about something Harry didn’t like and before he’d been able to react or apologize Harry’d already begun to inflict physical pain on him, completely void of any compassion for his friend.

I felt bad, I really did, and though I was angry and upset with Harry, the fear of him resenting me should I side too much with Jake kept me from being a good friend to him.

I picked Harry without even consciously making the choice.

..

When I went to tell Lucy about what happened the night before she said that she already knew. Harry had told her everything after I’d left him standing outside the bar.

“He was pretty pissed at you,“ she said with worried eyes, “Said he doesn’t want to see you anymore.“

I shuddered. “Maybe I should call him. Talk things out.“

But he didn’t pick up. Not the first time I tried and not the fifth either. He didn’t even respond to my messages.

Slowly I could feel myself freak out. We’d had some spats here and there, arguments that had made him shut me out and avoid talking to me, but so far whenever I reached out to apologize he warmed up and welcomed me back at his side.

Only this time I honestly felt like there was nothing for me to apologize for. I wasn’t the one who’d laid hand on Jake, who’d commanded a friend around as though they were my property and I hadn’t been the one to spoil the whole night for everyone.

“Just apologize to him,“ Lucy advised after I’d spent three days with absolutely no word from Harry, “He’s on good terms with Jake again. After letting out his aggression Harry accepted Jake’s effort of making things okay.“

“Good for them,“ I said, genuinely meaning it, “But there is nothing I could apologize for and nothing that I did wrong that night. Harry knows that, too.“

In all honesty I felt as though it was Harry’s turn to apologize to me. So many times before had it been me who’d tried and tried to reach out for him to make things right, often I even let myself down just to please him and that just couldn’t happen again.
I would wait, I decided, wait for him to respond to one of my innocent messages, hoping desperately that this choice wouldn’t cost me him. 

But of course that was exactly the price I had to pay for not backing down this time.

….Now.
Harry could be so kind. He was the first person to be there for me when I was in trouble, he always protected me against anything and anyone who made me uneasy and most importantly through him I experienced a never before encountered feeling of being needed. 

To him I was important and he appreciated me every day.

At times he was gentle and funny, blushing whenever he managed to make me laugh and his eyes would sparkle so lovingly it made my heart flutter.

He wasn’t all manipulative, arrogant and selfish.

I think Harry liked to think of me as an obedient and kind girl that wasn’t difficult to keep around. And he most certainly knew I was in love with him. So when I chose not to let myself down and apologize for standing up to him he was surprised and angry.
I’d proven his perception of me wrong and this newly discovered girl wasn’t who he had much use to.

….Then.
Never before in my life had I cried so hard. It was like I couldn’t breathe, my chest was crushed under an immense weight and I was robbed of any feeling of comfort. Some nights it got so bad I was hysterical and trashed around in my bed with no hope of finding rest. It felt like I was forcefully ripped open and everything Harry had left in my heart was taken away. Left was a sickening emptiness.

I was devastated.

Harry hadn’t responded to any attempt I’d made at reaching out and after a while I had been forced to give up. So instead I sent Lucy to talk to him and find out what he believed I did wrong only for her to come back with the most awful news.

“Harry was so angry, Y/N,“ Lucy had said, voice quiet and careful, “So much so he acted completely indifferent. He said that you know exactly what you did, that he hates you for it and never wants to see you again.“

She might as well have knocked me out.

Lucy nervously toyed with her hands. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. There really was nothing I could do to calm him.“

..

Hearing that the person you love feels hate towards you is the most intense kind of heart break that can be inflicted upon you by a loved one. Any sense of warmth is sucked out of you, your skin is in a constant state of shudder and your heart might as well not be there. The sickness you may feel before sitting through an important exam or before your first day at a new job, that kind of nerve wrecking sickness doesn’t ever go away again.

Your body is always on alert. Not even sleep brings rest.
It is pure torture to bear a broken heart and it takes so much time until it gets better.

..

The crying didn’t stop and I had no control over it. My eyes began to tear up without me noticing and due to the constant ache in my heart it was difficult to tell when my body was overwhelmed by it. During those times I searched for solitude and refused to spend time with the large group of people I’d once called my friends. Lucy and a small handful of them were the only ones I wanted to be around, anyone else I knew would instantly go and tell Harry about the pitiful state I was in.
And he didn’t need to know how much him leaving me had shattered my entire being.

To my luck the intense pain, confusion and disappointment followed a lot of anger. Like, more anger than I ever knew I was capable of feeling. That helped so much and for the first time I could feel myself slowly getting close to feeling okay again.

Because honestly: How dare he put me aside like I was a used doll to him? How dare he pretend like I wasn’t the best friend he had? How dare he act as if I hadn’t always put him first, before myself even?

I hissed in anger at the mere thought of all the things I’d done for him, every sacrifice, every time I let myself down to please him. If he messed up, I was there to help make things right, if he was upset, I was there to cheer him up. Me, me me. Always Me.
And now what? I had cried at the sight of my friend in pain and that made ma a traitor?

“I’m okay,“ I told Lucy one afternoon after she asked me how I was coping. Five weeks had passed since Harry had stopped talking to me and I was happy to admit that my words were only half a lie.

“That’s good,“ she gave me a small smile before her expression hardened and she looked away. “He asked about you today.“

I almost chocked on my tea. Lucy elaborated: “I ran into him at the cafe he likes so much. He asked where I was going and when I told him he wanted to know how you were doing.“

“What did you say?“ I wondered, my voice much steadier than I expected.

She peered up at me form under her lashes. “That you were good.“

I nodded. “Good.“

“I also asked if I should talk to you and help him make things right again.“ Lucy looked at me expectantly.

With brows arched in surprise I cleared my throat. “You did? What did he say?“

“Nothing he just shook his head. But that’s only because he’s prideful, Y/N, trust me. If you were to call him now I’m certain he would want to talk.“

Slowly I raised the mug I held in both hands to my lips and took a sip. When I looked at her again I knew my slightly puffy eyes were hard.

“Well, I’m not going to.“

“You should,“ Lucy protested, “Put you both out of your misery.“

I shook my head. “He’s the one who acts as if I did the worst possible thing to him when in reality I have done nothing. No, I am definitely not going to crawl back to him like a whipped dog that learned its lesson and damn him if he thinks I will. Maybe he regrets being a dick to me but then it sure as hell means that it’s his turn to come back. After all, he’s the one that left.“

When I finished I was out of breath and my hands trembled.

“I didn’t know you were this angry,“ Lucy admitted, her eyes holding surprise, “I expected you to be happy about these news.“

“Well I’m not,“ I answered, “This is just another stupid test of his and after crying every night for almost a month now I no longer care if I fail it.“

“He told me you were the one who left.“

I gaped at her. “What?“

She shrugged. “In his version of the story you’re the one who backed away form him after what happened to Jake. He thinks you are the one who left.“

Once more my body was set on fire with anger.
“That’s what this is about?“ I cried, “He hates me for not holding the hand he used to beat my friend with?“

Lucy bit her lip, then she nodded.

“Fuck him then,“ I said harshly, “What a self centered prick. I was frightened sick and he is so selfish that me taking a step back and insisting that I needed a moment alone is enough for him to throw us away?“

There was a pause of silence and slowly my breathing calmed again.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Okay, well… it’s your choice. I just know how much you care for him and even after everything he did I’m sure he cares about you just as much. And as your friend I must say that I can’t bear to see you so hurt all the time.“

At that I smiled kindly. “If he cared as much about me as I do for him he wouldn’t be spending all of his time with Cherry at his side.“

Lucy’s face fell. “I didn’t think you knew about that.“

I shrugged. “Hard not to. Her Instagram is full with pictures of them together. Her hugging him, him holding her waist, them dancing. He doesn’t seem to miss me too much.“

“She’s a distraction and has a pretty head that is as empty as a head can be,“ Lucy spoke harshly, “He knows that she is nothing compared to the friendship he had with you.“

I shrugged once more. “He doesn’t seem to mind. And as long as he doesn’t try to come back to me with a solid apology I couldn’t care less if Cherry bores him out of his mind.“

..

Nights were still the worst. That was when my head was haunted by every moment I ever spent with Harry, every laugh we shared, every touch. My poor heart was tortured with the memory of him kissing my cheek, leaving the skin hot and burning. I was reminded of the wide smile he wore whenever he saw me and the look of his arms held open wide for me to step into.

What I found myself missing most though was his smell. I’d grown to love his scent, found it comforting and every night I feared I would forget it one day.

Nights were when I allowed myself to cry and mourn the hope of love I’d lost with him.

I missed laughing with him, because he was still the funniest person I knew. I longed to hear him talk, because he had such a smart mind. I couldn’t bear to think that I would never get to feel his arms around me again and it hurt to imagine that I would never have his protection again.

After giving him so much importance in my life it was difficult to cope without him. But I did. And after two months of no word of him, it truly was no longer a lie when I said that I was feeling good.

..

It was almost like he knew that my heard had mended and I believed he understood that as his cue to come back and fuck me up again.
I stared at my phone with shock. I had one missed call from Harry and four new texts.

Hey.

How are you?

Can we talk?

Sorry.

Almost three months. That was how long he’d waited to reach out again. More than 40 nights of crying, more than 30 days of feeling like I was only a shell of myself.
And all I got was a Hey. How are you? Can we talk? Sorry. 
A ‘Sorry’ was all that my pain was worth.

„Fuck you, Harry,“ I muttered.

I reached for the device sitting before me, unlocked the screen and pressed onto the message until the small window popped up.

Are you sure you want to delete this chat? My phone asked.

I didn’t hesitate to press yes.

….Now.
To this day I knew that there was nobody I loved as deeply as I did Harry.

Even after doing everything in his power to break my heart, I can’t help the small jump out of rhythm and the tiny squeeze it gives whenever I happen to see his face somewhere. So many years have past and both of our lives are so different now.

We don’t speak. We don’t reach out.

But his stare lingers when he sees my face and so does mine. It’s as if we’re both reminded of who we once were and for a moment we wonder what we’ve become.

Thank you for reading this! 
Masterlist

Hartwin fic recs (1/?)

[Long post]

I went through the fics saved on my Kindle aka I read them at least thrice (not the recently bookmarked ones on ao3 or on my laptop) and here are what I found. The order is mainly sorted by authors’ names and texts in italics are my comments. I try not to spoil them for you guys and only include tags the authors use.

⭐ Underneath - Ataraxetta. E, 37k.

Of course, a refusal to apologise and a handjob on the floor of a fitting room does not reparations make.

Eggsy left the shop that night with a new chip on the shoulder of his new suit. Harry left the shop that night with the knowledge of what Eggsy looked like flushed and trembling with pleasure under his hands and the certainty that this single torturous taste of what he wanted most was worth living with the possibility that he would not get another.

⭐ A Marriage of Inconvenience - autoschediastic. E, 11k. Fake marriage.

“Caution in the field isn’t confined to simply an awareness of your surroundings,” Harry says, his tone stern but his breath soft and warm against the back of Eggsy’s hand. His gaze lifts, his eyes hooded as he peers at Eggsy over the rims of his glasses. “You’ve told a lie, Eggsy, and now that lie must be truth.”

(Or, that time Eggsy scored them a better table by saying it was his and Harry’s anniversary and quickly grew to regret it.)

⭐ the train is a metaphor - autoschediastic, Ponderosa . E, 6k.

“What sort of aggression is it then?” Eggsy asks, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

Harry knows even before he hears the response. Knows because even as Merlin is saying, “It appears to affect sexual responses. Activating latent desire and cranking up the subject’s sex drive whilst simultaneously increasing pheromone production,” Harry is thinking primarily of the distance between himself and Eggsy and how very few steps it would take to be within range to push the boy to the floor and pin him there.

How (not) to get a dad’s blessing - BrightsideIsMyMiddleName. NR, 36k, WIP.

“You know, you almost fooled me yesterday with the whole I want to watch the legacies speech,” Merlin says and Harry groans, because he knows things just went tits up. “Well, I suppose you were half telling the truth. You wanted to watch one certainlegacy, but it was more about his mouth, eyelashes and that thing on his eyebrow you can’t seem to stop staring at.”

Harry head snaps up at that. “Oh, shite.”

“Oh, yes,” the agent keeps going, completely enjoying this. “You forgot to turn off your feed. I saw the flirting. And Lee’s reaction. Good luck with that.”

⭐ Conditions of Release - Calico. E, 5k.

Eggsy pulled furtively at the ropes binding his arms and legs to the metal tracks, as if he’d forgotten the last five minutes already. God, though. Before he’d felt trapped, terrified; now it was more like he was… at Harry’s mercy.

⭐ What Men Want - calico. E, 12k. Lots of UST.

Eggsy goes data-mining.

I died multiple times reading this. 

⭐ Inopportune Moments series - calico, habernero. The whole series is a blessing and I’ll forever treasure the endless amount of UST in it.

⭐ Every Club’s Got a Secret Handshake - ChuckleVoodoos. NR, 4k.

A Kingsman needs steady hands, he tells Eggsy. I’ll resign quietly, he tells Merlin. Eggsy will make an admirable Galahad, he tells them both.

Or: In which Harry has a few minor issues following his head injury that no one but him considers issues.

Status after reading: Dehydrated from crying. 

⭐ Ätherwellen - coloursflyaway. M, 2k.

There are three-hundred and twenty-six members in Kingsman’s tech departments all over the world, and obviously they have lots of stories to share about their agents and what they do to drive them crazy.

The best way to do so is a super-secret WhatsApp group, and if it gets a challenge for all of them to finally get Harry and Eggsy together, it might just be Merlin’s fault.

⭐ Through Time - coloursflyaway. E, 162k.

A chronic of Harry’s and Eggsy’s love, following them from their first meeting to the last time they set eyes on each other, through shots in the head and falling in love and finally getting their shit together.

⭐ Dream In Red - Corvin. T, 11k. Soulmates AU.

Eggsy wasn’t raised to take the soulmate marks too seriously. He could fall in love without them.

⭐ Street Sweepers, Night Watchmen, Flame Keepers - Deepdarkwaters. E, 36k.

Harry survived V-Day - because of course he did - but not all the Kingsman agents were so lucky. With the world still going to shit and the worst staff shortage since the organisation began, Merlin calls a group of retired agents back to their posts to help out while he trains the new recruits.

Featuring snowball fights, banter, innuendo, handsome old men, lady scientists, secrets in walking sticks, Harry’s appalling crush, thumbnails of bigger pictures, a pastede on plot crammed in around all the flirting which is really just an excuse for me to write a silly sword fight, and an old bet from 1986 that’s still not been decided.

⭐ in this safe place here - Della19. E, 5k. Omegaverse.

“I am entirely capable,” Harry proclaims cuttingly to Merlin, puffed up like a prissy cat. And Merlin throws his arms skyward like he’s just begging for lightning to strike ‘im where he stands and asks, with scathing exasperation, “Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?”

And Eggsy one hundred percent doesn’t snicker, and he’s got the bloody inner cheek to prove it, ‘cause Eggsy’s a fuckin’ gentleman.

Instead Eggsy takes in the sight of ‘is pregnant mate, huge as a fuckin’ planet and still the most bloody gorgeous man he’s ever seen. And then takes in ‘is face, and he wonders how much ice cream he’s gonna need to buy to get them all through the four weeks of bed rest Merlin just ordered.

And then Harry’s upper lip looks like it might fuckin’ quiver, and Eggsy contemplates just buyin’ stock in Ben and Jerry’s.

⭐ i blinked (and there you were) - Della19. M, 19k. Time travel AU.

The Weeping Angels, Eggsy reads on the stolen Torchwood intel. Aliens that pose as statues, and kill their victims by sending them back in time and feeding off their years not lived in the present. The politest psychopaths in the universe, a note reads, scrawled in what looks like a doctor’s chicken scratch on the edge of the page by someone who clearly had a perverse sense of humour. A one way trip, the report concludes; you get transported by the angels, and it’s the slow road back to the present for you.

Eggsy lays his head back on the wall, takes stock of his situation. He’s lost 30 years - three years more than his entire lifespan up ’til now - in the blink of an eye, and now he’s stuck here, in 1988. Three years before he’s even born. Arthur, the prick, is sure to be heading up the Kingsmen, and Merlin, if he’s even there would be…20, maybe. Fuck, so fucking young.

Shite, even Harry’d only be…

Alive, Eggsy thinks, and finds himself sitting down hard from where his knees can’t hold him. This is 1988, and Harry’s 23, and alive.

Suddenly, being stuck in 1988 doesn’t seem so bad.

⭐ your world tomorrow - DivineProjectZero. E, 9k.

This is turning into one hell of a fairytale.

(or, the one in which Eggsy never dreamed of the Cinderella life and ends up living it anyway.)

⭐ all the tables turn - DivineProjectZero. E, 23k.

Harry Hart has terrible taste in men.

So it comes as a bit of a surprise when Eggsy smiles at him and the predator inside Harry cocks its head in consideration.

⭐ the things we steal (it was only a kiss) - DivineProjectZero, 5k. HP AU.  

Eggsy whips around to find Harry Hart standing right behind him, holding a martini glass and just as gorgeous as Eggsy last saw him, three years and two months ago.

Thankfully, Eggsy is too busy staring in shock to actually say anything in response, because Harry then says, “Excuse my poor manners. Harry Hart. And you are?” And then extends his hand, which is how Eggsy remembers that he’s not supposed to be Eggsy Unwin right now; he’s actually undercover.

⭐ How not to attack Harry Hart - enjoy_acne. M, 31k.

Everybody wants to hurt Harry Hart. Harry’s really not sure what he’s done to garner such attention.

Where attacking even an amnesiac Harry proves near impossible. This is a romantic comedy with a dose of violence.

⭐ another head aches, another heart breaks - jonphaedrus. E, 44k.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that every good story has its Lazarus.

(or; the one where harry hart dies, and then lives again)

⭐ take me to church - jonphaedrus. M, 2k.  

He sees Westminster Abbey. Instead of a burst of civic and national pride, it feels like someone has just punched him in the chest. Harry stumbles, nearly falls over, and he can suddenly see bright Southern sunlight, he can smell the scent of blood all over him, his shoulder aches where someone’s just stabbed him, there are bullet bruises all over his back. There’s someone screaming in the distance and he can see flat, brown eyes facing him down the barrel of a silenced gun.

He winds up crouched, retching on the floor of a public loo, head between his knees, breathing high and fast through his teeth while Merlin’s voice, quiet and calm and grounding in his ear tells him just stay there, Arthur, someone’s coming, and someone comes.

⭐ A Different Place and Time - Ferrero13. T, 23k. Time travel, soulmates AU.  

Eggsy’s words are ‘What’s your name, young man?’, but Harry’s isn’t ‘Eggsy.’ So he keeps quiet, keeps it to himself, but when he finds himself face to face with a younger Harry Hart, Eggsy can’t help falling in love all over again.

Sometimes, the first words you say to your soulmate aren’t the first they hear from you.

⭐ On Hand - fideliant. E, 24k.

Or, Five Things A Gentleman Should Never Do Without

“In my defence,” Eggsy says, “It could have happened to anyone.”

⭐ Your Highness - Galahard. E, 40k. Modern Royal AU.

 “The international community is in chaos this morning in the wake of the deaths of many world leaders. The death of the president of the United States has been confirmed, along with the majority of his cabinet. Great Britain can count itself lucky that the Queen has been found and finally returned to her throne, but her heirs are another story. It appears that both princes and their own heirs are among the casualties of what is being referred to as the Valentine’s Day Massacre. Sources close to–”

It just so happens that there is another direct heir to the British throne out there, but he’s probably going to need a bit of polish.

⭐ We musn’t touch what isn’t ours - inusagi. E, 11k.

Harry Hart is a sociopath, yes, but he’s a sociopath who loves Eggsy.

or

5 times Harry showed his true colours and 1 time Eggsy really sees it.

⭐ Irish Car Bombs - kimposibl. M, 5k.

“It’s from the gentleman over there,” replies the waitress, pointing over her shoulder.

“Err….” Now, Eggsy knows he’s pissed. He learned his limits and exceeded them back in Cambridge, so being drunk off his arse is nothing new. He also knows that he can finish his pint and maybe get away with one more drink before he’s making a raucous or somehow getting involved in a fight, but he certainly can’t handle six more cocktails of Irish alcohol.

“Invite him over,” he tells her with an easy smile.

Or, the drunken one night stand Eggsy thought he’d never see again until he does and they have sex again.

⭐ Gentle - KingKiller. T, 4k.

Harry lives. He’s alive and he knows it.

But sometimes at night after waking up from dreams (nightmares) where Valentine wasn’t afraid of blood and Gazelle wasn’t so enamored with the lisping psychopath Harry wakes in the dark all too sure he’s dead.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

⭐ Hold me tight - KingKiller. NR, 14k.

The dynamics between he and Eggsy had changed. And Harry doesn’t even know how to describe “how” it had.

Continuation of “Gentle”. 

⭐ the parting glass - kirkaut. E, 48k.

The words shrivel and die between them.

Harry’s chest hitches on an indrawn breath. The contours of his face are cast dramatically in the fiery hues of the street at night, highlighting the wrinkle in his forehead and the soft slope of his chin and the silvery pink of his scar.

He’s beautiful, and Eggsy loves him.

“I miss you.” The confession falls. It lands heavily onto the pavement, cracking into the asphalt. “You’re alive, you’re right in fucking front of me, and I still miss you.”

⭐ Whenever you look up there I shall be. - LadyEmrys. E, 114k.

Watching the light spread in those heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the small twitch at the corner of his mouth - the only other physical sign he had strength enough to give - was more than enough to know for sure.

Eggsy was fucked.

Or: In a world rapidly descending into anarchy in the wake of V-Day, Kingsman - under the guidance of it’s new Arthur - must decide whether or not to abandon its hitherto undercover nature and save the the world from itself.

⭐ Ace of Spades - manic_intent. E, 44k.

“This is your next target,” Merlin said into Harry’s earpiece, as Harry leaned forward to look at his laptop screen.

It blacked out, for a moment, then a clip out of some interview began to play. The video was in black and white, crisply and tightly shot, its subject a young man shown seated from the waist up, against a pale gray background, grinning at the camera. He was probably in his mid twenties, dressed down in a black leather jacket over a pale t-shirt, loose over denim jeans, his hair long enough to feather slightly over his forehead, a hint of stubble over his chin. He was also, quite possibly, the most beautiful young man Harry had ever seen, and disturbingly… familiar, somehow.

As the young man laughed noiselessly at the camera, elegant serif type faded over the lower third of the screen: Gary Unwin, by Vanity Fair. Harry blinked, and studied the young man’s pretty face more closely, the crinkling around his eyes, the joyous curl to his mouth, the way he sat, relaxed yet alert, like a hunting hound, waiting to come to heel.

⭐ Kingmaker - manic_intent. E, 49k.

“Eggsy, I really don’t think-“ Merlin began, and stopped, because at that very moment, Eggsy walked right into a lamp post.

Across the street, at a sidewalk corner cafe, reading a paper, sandwich part-eaten on a plate, sleek, long legs crossed neatly under the table, was Harry Hart.

⭐ Strange Sights, Strange Wonders - manic_intent. E, 51k. Stardust AU.

In the glade where the star had fallen, the gloom of the gnarled old woods was deeper than night, save around the blackberry bush that had broken his fall: the grass and the battered leaves were now luminous, moon-touched. There was a long pause, broken by the sounds of twittering insects and the forest folk, then, there was a loudly groaned, “Fuck!”

The star rubbed a hand over his eyes, then flinched and held his hand up, spreading unfamiliar fingers up against the night sky. He turned his hand this way and that, curling and uncurling fingers, then he let out a softer, yet just as vehement “fuck!” and sat up, wincing.

⭐ Calm Like You - MartinShostakovich. E, 10k. Teacher/student AU.

Eggsy develops a heavy crush on his new Classical Literature Professor Harry Hart, and strives to reach the top of the class in order to impress him. Little did Eggsy know, Mr. Hart is fairly easy to impress.

⭐ As Fate Would Have it - midnightsurge. M, 45k. MI6!Eggsy AU.

 The young man smiled brightly again, turning to face him slightly as they walked outside. “M’name’s Eggsy. Eggsy Unwin.”

Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. He knew that name.

Eggsy turned to face him expectantly once he’d realised the other was no longer walking next to him.

“I think you knew me dad, righ’?” 

⭐ the centre cannot hold - missbecky. E, 34k.

It’s a rainy Monday when Eggsy Unwin is killed in the line of duty. And it’s a rainy Tuesday when Harry Hart starts to feel that there is something very wrong with the world now. As one tragic event after another unfolds, he becomes convinced that Eggsy was never meant to die. Somehow he has to put things right again and find a way to get Eggsy back. No matter what the cost.

⭐ once upon a different lifetime - missbecky. M, 58k.

The night before the final test, Harry makes Eggsy a promise: once he is a Kingsman, they will talk about their future together. Then V-Day happens, and although Harry recovers, he doesn’t remember that last day he spent with Eggsy. Now Eggsy has to carry on like his heart isn’t breaking every time he looks at Harry and he thinks about what they might have had. He manages to do a good job of it, though, keeping things between them strictly professional.

So then, of course, Harry remembers.

⭐ One Night - Nickygp. E, 53k. Judge!Harry, rentboy!Eggsy.

Harry Hart, a Lord Justice, has his life turned upside down when he meets a young rentboy, named Eggsy, who charms his way into Harry’s heart. But can he act upon those feelings, or are their cirmustances too different to breach the gap?

⭐ Bluffing With An Empty Hand - nightwalker. E, 2k. Short and sweet.

The first time Harry Hart threatens to end Eggsy’s step-father, it’s a bluff.

The second time is going to be a promise.

⭐ No Charm Equal- potentiality_26. E, 29k. Cupid AU. The one that got me hooked on this author.

To say that Harry was too surprised to react at first would have been a grave understatement. He wasn’t literally invisible, because he did sometimes need to interact with mortals to do his job, he was just unnoticeable. People- the particular charge he had been assigned to most of all- were meant to see him and yet never actually process his presence. Unless he showed up in their houses- which a gentleman would never do, of course- they would ignore him and just get on with their lives. And yet here Eggsy was, closer than anyone had been to Harry since- well, since he was mortal, and that was long enough ago that Harry could hardly remember it- snarling, “Why are you following me?”

⭐ Getting It Right - potentiality_26. E, 8k. 5+1.

“Kiss me,” he murmured when he reached Harry, because while it wasn’t exactly vital to the mission that Eggsy convince this woman that they were in love, it would certainly make him feel better. Harry pressed his mouth to Eggsy’s as he passed him a glass of champagne, and ‘feeling better’ went out the window. The kiss was quick, sweet, marital. Eggsy didn’t know how Harry made it feel so practiced, but he did.

“I have an admirer,” Eggsy informed him, almost breathless with how much he wanted Harry to kiss him like that every day, how much he wanted Harry to have a reason to.

Five times Eggsy gets Harry to kiss him for the wrong reasons (and one time he gets it right).

⭐ Enough to Live On - potentiality_26. E, 19k.

Harry stated the obvious, something he should have seen that morning but hadn’t: “You shopped.”

“I been here quite a bit,” Eggsy explained, shrugging one shoulder. “And anyway it seemed… better. Food in the fridge, nothing gathering dust. Made it more like you’d be back any day now.” Eggsy swiped his knife over the bread with a little more aggression than was strictly necessary, but his voice was very even. “You said you’d come back and sort things. But you didn’t.”

Harry comes back a week after V-Day. He isn’t strictly alive, but that means less than he would have expected it to. 

⭐ An Ocular Condition  - ProdigalQueer. G, 3k.

Harry sees his adjustment as easy, but that’s only because he’s not really looking.

⭐ Only As Directed - rageprufrock. E, 12k.

“Arthur is a bad man,” Roxy had said.

“Fucking tell me about it,” Eggsy had muttered, and gone to put on the tarty trousers Harry had picked out for him like a fucking high-end pimp.

⭐ A Taste of Mallorca - Regency. M, 18k. Chef AU.

Harry is a celebrated food critic. Eggsy is a Youtube-famous food blogger. They meet at the grand opening of Mediterranean restaurant Mallorca when they’re forced to share a table. It’s a meal, and a night, neither will soon forget.

⭐ my saints fallen series  - neroh. From T to E.  I love this so much.

 ⭐ The Mate in Roommate - ronahn. E, 5k. Uni AU.

Out of all of the blokes occupying their flat, Harry was the one Eggsy saw the most, and yet they had only ever shared passing greetings. It was a growing source of disappointment for Eggsy; he was strangely drawn to Harry and his gorgeous brown hair and eyes.

⭐ The Spy who Loved Me (Or so they say) - ToriCeratops. E, 54k. Fake relationship AU, Pining.

In the wake of V-day the world’s economy hangs in a delicate balance, liable to crumble without warning. One man has the knowledge and the power necessary to send it tumbling down, so that only he remains on top.

The Kingsman have been tasked with stopping him before he can carry out his plan. In order to do so, Harry and Eggsy must act as lovers at an elite couple’s getaway to earn this man’s trust. Will they be able to carry out their mission as planned? Or will old wounds and buried emotions cause a havoc greater than anything they could have expected?

⭐ Kiss Me Now (before I can run) - persephoneggsy. M, 37k. Soulmates AU.

It wasn’t unusual, Eggsy told himself. There were plenty of people- just a little under half of the world’s population, really- that weren’t with their soulmates. Some of them just hadn’t met yet; others had died beforehand; and then there were the people in Eggsy’s situation. Sometimes people genuinely didn’t want their soulmates. Either they were in love with someone else, or they just didn’t like what they got stuck with, and Eggsy imagined the latter was very much the case with him and Harry. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for him, the world’s prime example of a posh bloke, to have his soulmate be some beaten-up kid. He would have rejected him too.

Or: soulmate AU where you know your soulmate from the moment you touch them, and when you do, their name gets written over your heart like a brand. But that’s not always a guarantee.

⭐ Tailor Shop - rougewinter. E, 13k. Like a Disney movie except really gay and for grown-ups.

“There’s no need for that now.” The older man said, both hands raised in a placating gesture that only had Eggsy narrowing his eyes in wariness.

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Eggsy demanded, making sure to keep the poker up.

“My name is Harry Hart. And I’m the man, well, the mannequin that you just assembled.”

Or

The one where Harry is cursed to be a magical mannequin and can only be saved by the power of love.

⭐ that which lingers - bruises for tomorrow. M, 22k.

 Here is something that Gary “Eggsy” Unwin (aged 24 and ¾) never knew to expect from ghosts:

- Sometimes their absence hurts worse than their presence.

⭐ Married to the Job - trilliath. E, 18k. Mutual pining, misunderstanding.

 "Hm?“ Merlin asks, distracted when he looks up and squints at Eggsy’s face, then catches up and resumes working. “Oh. No. Zania Bonatti, Italian artist and activist. Also Harry’s wife.”

“You wot?” Eggsy blurts, eyes snapping back to him, then over to Roxy like he might’ve mis-heard.

But he hasn’t because Roxy’s face wrinkles minutely in sympathy that has Eggsy’s ears burning and he snaps his eyes away again in humiliation.

“Yes, Harry’s married. Did he never mention that to you?” Merlin pauses long enough to frown briefly, then he shrugs. “Well, on to more important matters…”

⭐ you make motion when you cry - unhappy_turtle. E, 4k. Pining.

“Wanna go on an ate with me?” Eggsy slurs, “I’ll give you the D later.”

“You are very inebriated, aren’t you?”

Eggsy nods, his head feeling too heavy.

⭐ These Hands (Had to Let It Go Free) - Vacilando. G, 12k.

He does not only recognize this man, he knows him. Harry knows the way he laughs and the way he would smile cheekily at Harry. He knows the way this man say his name, all rough cockney accent and confidence. Harry knows him better than Harry knows himself but none of that matter because Harry does not remember his name.

Nor is he sure if this man is real. 

⭐ Breathless (A Tale of Eggsy Unwin) - xxjinchuurikixx. E, 101k. Pining.

“Harry–"Eggsy breaks off, because, god, Harry’s here! He’s alive, breathing, beautiful, and he’s got Eggsy crushed in his arms and Eggsy can feel his mouth tingling from the roughness of his kiss.

Then Harry pulls back; more-so he shoves Eggsy away. He keeps him pinned to the wall, at arms length, and Eggsy is pleased to see Harry is panting, stray chocolate hairs fallen out of place. The action, however, makes his blood feel cold, and he stares up at Harry in confusion, expecting something more. But Harry makes no move to close the space between them again.

When Harry speaks, finally, it’s low and deadly and it fucking hurts.

“Forget that ever happened.”

⭐ Virtue Over Avarice- Yessydo. M, 13k. Tailor AU.

Eggsy crashes his stepfather’s car into the front window of a quaint but reputable tailor’s shop on Savile Row and, thanks to the charitable spirit of its mysterious owner, ends up working there to pay the damages.

⭐ Lots of Lost Time - Yessydo. E, 1k.

A year after his “death”, Harry is reunited with Eggsy, who has some strong feelings on the matter.

⭐ Lavagulin and Guinness - Snarfle. E, 163k. I waited eagerly for every update of this.

Plenty of people had looked down on Eggsy throughout his life. He had gotten fairly used to it. Didn’t mean it was fair, but he knew how these things worked. What really sucked was that the new Arthur was worse than the old one.

“Eggsy grimaced. He didn’t know how to explain to Harry – who seemed like he hadn’t been discriminated against a day in his life – that the new Arthur kept giving him what amounted to suicide missions, and that he was currently bleeding out in a warehouse because of the deliberately bad intel she had given him.”

“His Wedding” Part 5

Summary: Modern-Day (AU) Bucky and you are exes. He moved on but you couldn’t since you both are still friends, he asks you for a favor - a ridiculous one. You reluctantly agree, not thinking of the future consequences you’ll have to face. You just hope everything will be fine. But it doesn’t always work out, does it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3423

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: repost, with a lil’ editing! taglist is open! also this part is a lil’ cheesy, but who doesn’t like that

‘His Wedding’ Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

gif (is not mine) has nothing to do with this part 


A week had passed away since my meeting with Bucky and Lilly in that Japanese restaurant. A lot happened in these days. Lilly and I were constantly tied up, we were texting, talking and meeting more than I did any of those activities with Nat or Wanda or even my mother. Natasha lives with me, so she is an exception, but the other two ladies in my life were surely disappointed. Although I kept texting them here and there.

Coming back to my week, it was not just Lilly I spent all my time with. Bucky often dropped by my office, more than ever. He said he wanted to be involved in the wedding as much as Lilly is (I was just considering myself lucky since I got to see him).

Apart from that, surprisingly Steve was also determined to help me in every possible way. We’d get lunch or dinner together. He’d share funny stories with me or just listen to me ramble about anything and everything. He’d constantly check up on me, even if it was just a quick text asking me how my day is going. Or something along the lines that made me feel like what I’m doing is not going to be half as bad of an experience. Natasha and Wanda were showing support in their own way, they liked making fun of Lilly. Sometimes it would get out of hand, other times it would also make me laugh. But Steve was here for me, asking what makes me feel better, what I like and what I want to do. He didn’t talk about how the wedding planning is going. After a long day I just want to forget about all of it.

Steve helped me do exactly that.

Keep reading

AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are written on your skin (bc every fandom should have one and this is my favourite fic trope ever)


Jack gets his words when he’s five years old. At first, he’s kind of confused.

“Maman,” he says, tugging at his mother’s shirt where she sits at the dining room table. He holds his arm up for her to see. “Je ne comprends pas!”

Alicia Zimmermann starts when she sees the words now permanently inked on her son’s forearm. They’re written in a loopy, pretty script down the middle of his arm, stark against his pale skin. She smiles when she reads the words – English, which he hasn’t yet learnt to read – and pulls him up into her lap. She holds his arm gently in her hands, and he pokes at the words suspiciously.

“Qu-est ce que c’est, Maman?”

“It’s your words,” she explains. “They’re the words that will tell you who your soulmate is.”

“Je-“

“Jack,” he looks away from his arm to meet her gaze, his confusion evident. Alicia pulls her jumper to expose her collarbone and the words written there. The handwriting is one Jack knows, recognizes pretty quickly as his father’s, but he’d never really considered the fact that the messy scrawl on his mother’s skin was actually written by his papa. “Everyone gets them at some point or other. Most people get them when their soulmate is born, but not always. Sometimes it’s a little later, or a little earlier, but the point is, there’s someone out there waiting for you.” She lets her jumper sit back in place and runs a gentle hand through her son’s messy black hair. “One day you’ll meet someone who says those words to you. You’ll know they’re your soulmate because it’ll be the first thing they say. Somewhere on their body will be the first words you’ll say to them.” Jack looks thoughtful.

“What do my words say, Maman?”

“Are you sure you can’t work it out?” Jack looks at his arm again, brow furrowed in concentration. His English reading ability is poorer than his French, and the handwriting is a bit too cursive for someone as young as him, but he’s always been determined. Alicia waits patiently as Jack mouths the words slowly, working them out in his head, trying to sound the letters into something he understands.

It’s five minutes before he smiles again, clearly pleased with himself. Whatever he’s worked out is evidently a sentence he understands from the way he bounces excitedly.

“Maman, I know what they’re saying!”

“You know what your soulmate is saying?”

“Oui. I know what they will say.” He takes a deep breath as he looks back down at his arm, running a small finger underneath the words as he reads them carefully out loud. His mother praises his reading, and after a few more minutes of questions about soulmarks the day returns to normal.

It’s only later, when he’s curled up in bed with his stuffed whale toy tucked against his body that he remembers the words again. He pulls back the sleeve of his pajamas to see the words still stark and clear on his skin, even in the low glow from his night light. He whispers them into the air wondrously. For all his excitement now, over the coming years his faith that the words will be spoken with good intention fade and fade as he learns more about the world.

By the time he’s fifteen he covers the words in a long arm sleeve specially designed to hide soulmarks. He only takes it off to shower, and never lets Kent see what’s beneath it. His mother tries to broach the topic once, suggests carefully that soulmarks are rarely ever said in the way one thinks, but his anger makes her sigh and leave it alone. She does encourage him to see a new therapist though, increasingly aware of his unimpeded anxiety over soulmarks and everything else. He feels guilty at his reaction to her concern so he reluctantly agrees to talk to someone about it. They’re better than the last one, and though they specialize in soulmate-related anxiety they quickly latch on to the fact that there are a lot more pressing things endangering Jack’s mental health. His visits are upped to thrice a week, and his prescription is swapped for something less intensive. It doesn’t rid him of anxiety, but it does help. He ends up making some changes to his life that help to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, and everything begins to feel more manageable.

When he’s drafted first pick to the Providence Falconers he’s in a tentatively good place. He’s happy about his team, pleased for Kent as he heads to Las Vegas with the Aces, and feels surprisingly positive despite the pressure the draft had put on him. The future looks brighter, clearer, and as he settles in during his first night in his new Providence apartment, he feels the urge to look at his words for the first time in years.

They still sting when he sees them, an old wound reopened, but he takes deep breaths. The writing is prettier than he remembers, and he almost chuckles at the thought that there’s someone out there with his god-awful handwriting on their body. He sobers up almost instantly, though, running a finger across the words like he did so many years ago. He knows what they mean: that his soulmate doesn’t want him, that he’s a disappointment, that he’s never going to have a relationship like his mother and father do with his soulmate. As he stares at the words he thinks that at least now he can probably deal with it. He’s got a great team and a promising future; a best friend; a much less strained relationship with his father. He knows, now, that he’s not a disappointment to his parents, even if he is to himself or his soulmate. He lives in a nice apartment in a nice area. He thinks he might get a dog.

Despite the hurt they cause, Jack finds himself pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his words, closing his eyes for a brief moment, desperately trying and failing to imagine a way someone could say these words and still want him.

Oh no, he recites in his head, those words that have been impossible to forget, it can’t be you.

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Gunshot (a sneak peek)

So… This was written way back in January (yikes), when I first started to write the mafia au fic 8 Days a Week and only @kawaiilo-ren and a couple other people have seen it. You might think you’ve seen it before, because Kait is a babe and she’s been drawing the amazing comic of this scene (and murdering me along the way). 

My plan was to keep this private until it was time to publish it on Ao3 but life is short and I actually like this. People will probably forget by the time it’s published there anyway, oops. 

Under the cut because it’s long. 



Hospital hall is looking cold and bleak under the fluorescent lights, like it did many hours ago. Yuri doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he left the building but coming back feels like returning from war, maybe. He doesn’t know what war feels like. It must be exhausting, if it resembles this even slightly. 

Ignoring his shaking hands is easy, as is turning a blind eye to his pulsating head ache. His body is crashing after riding through the adrenaline waves and he would kill for a nap; but that would make the list of things worth killing for longer and he isn’t sure if he is ready to deal with the paperwork. He isn’t ready to deal with anything yet, he just wants to return the weapon to its true owner and fall into a lifelong slumber.

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So this is the Bullshit


I don’t believe in call out posts. I think they’re unnecessary and usually create a tidal wave of drama over a misunderstanding or an issue that might have been resolved with a simple click of ‘unfollow’ or block’.

This is one of those instances where it is necessary. Where the actions of one person are genuinely harmful and quite likely malicious and it’s actually impossible to know the extent of everything they have done.

Before I proceed, I want to make it clear that I do not condone sending this person hateful asks-or, indeed, any- asks about their behaviour. If you wish to unfollow or block them-or not- then that is your business. But I did not make this post to encourage spiteful behaviour.

I want to thank everyone who contributed to this post, whether it was sending me data, good vibes, proofing or just cheering up my cranky butt at varying points between now and April. Without further ado:-

This is a callout post for user Vallanoble, for actions spanning back to February of this year.

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Why Reviews Matter

This is an issue I’ve been wanting to discuss for a while, but with Gruvia week fast approaching, I thought now would be a good time to finally broach this subject. Mind you, this is hardly a new, or unaddressed issue. This has been brought up on Tumblr many a time, and in many a fandom. But I wanted to address it again, because it is so important.

*Also, because I know many people don’t like to read long blocks of text, I have included random pics of Gruvia with even more random comments to keep people entertained. Enjoy!*

Since my time in the Gruvia fandom, I have always made it a point to participate in Gruvia Week, and likewise, I have always regretted it.

Why? Because the amount of effort/time put into writing fics for Gruvia Week was never worth the amount of feedback/acknowledgement I received in return for my efforts. I don’t like begging for reviews. In fact, when I first entered the FT fandom, and started writing Gruvia fics, I would NEVER ask for reviews. I figured, if people wanted to review, they would. But over the past couple of years, I started asking for them. You know why? Because the amount of written feedback compared to the amount of notes/favs(if we’re talking about fan fiction DOT net) I received on fics was wildly imbalanced.

Was it just me, or was the anime filler unison raid more magically impressive than the official one?

And have I gotten more reviews since I started requesting them. Not at all. Quite the contrary, in fact. Part of that is the FT fandom has shrunk, but another part of it is the *type* of stories I usually put out. I like writing one-shots. I find it more enjoyable to just get a completed story out there all at once. I don’t really have the patience or dedication anymore to keep up a multi-chapter fic. But multi-chapters DO often get more reviews. Why? Because those reading want to encourage the writer to continue the story. And that’s great. That’s how it should be. BUT, that’s how it should be for completed fics, too. And yet, it’s not.

Because I am giving my readers an already completed story, there is no incentive to review. Which from a writer’s perspective, is so discouraging. For a writer, putting out an ending to a story (and mind you, many of my one-shots are 6,000-10,000 words long, so definitely not SHORT) is when they need feedback the most. They want to know whether it was liked or not. That’s the most important time to review. But so many people don’t, because what’s in it for them? They already received everything you were giving out.

Do you see how horrible that is, though? Someone took the time (some fiction takes hours, days and even weeks and months) to write and share a whole story for free, and the least a reader can do, “the review,” is not worth most people’s time. But if that’s the case, then why should I, the writer, waste my time putting out a story in the first place? Liking or faving a story isn’t enough. We want to know what you liked (or even didn’t like) about it. That’s how we improve. We thrive on feedback.

I imagine they might say these kinds of things in bed together, too.

So, yes, as far as one-shots go, why should you leave a review? The story is complete. You don’t need to ask for another chapter to see how it ends. I’ll tell you why. Because while you received a story this time, there’s no guarantee there will be another one in the future. And I know I’m not the only writer or artist who feels like this.

And yes, writing should not be all about the reviews. You should absolute write for yourself above and beyond anything else. And I DO. However, the story is already in my head. I’m already enjoying it. I don’t really need to write it down. I do that more for others rather than myself. And yet the lack of appreciation for this kills my motivation to write anything else.

And all writers KNOW people are reading but not reviewing. The amount of traffic, favs or notes my stories receive in comparison to the amount of reviews are not even close to matching up. If you enjoyed a story enough to fav, follow, like or reblog, then please think about also leaving a comment. No one is asking you to match their story with a novel of your own in a review, but sometimes even a few short words are so appreciated by writers and artists.

Boobs.

If you don’t acknowledge your artists and writers, your fandom dries up. People leave or move on. People stop making gifs, writing, drawing, etc.. If your fandom dries up, then content for the things you love also dries up. Is that really ok? Not only that, but imagine writers and artists who are new to fandom, and new to art and writing in general. Imagine how hard it is for them? You could make the difference between someone giving up and never reaching their full potential, or your review inspiring them to improve to the point that they one day become a famous author or artist. Never think your review doesn’t matter. IT DOES.

Now, back to the topic of Gruvia Week itself. I think the lack of feedback during Gruvia Week especially is a combination of things. Firstly, there’s a lot of content (which is very good! That’s what everyone wants for Gruvia Week, but…). That also means a lot of competition. Things move faster in the tags than normal, things get pushed down, and the sensory overload kicks in, so fics and/or art that would usually receive tons of notes or more feedback on a normal day, just don’t receive as much appreciation during Gruvia Week.

Secondly, there’s the “one-shot” effect I already explained above. People know that no matter what, most users who are participating in Gruvia Week are likely going to post all the content they already prepared. So, you’re going to get “the product” regardless of what you as a reader or spectator do. So, there’s no incentive to encourage the artist or writer, as you will receive that content regardless.

Did Juvia give Gray that butterfly t-shirt? And what did Gray want to tell Juvia before he got made into swiss cheese by the dragon spawns? The mysteries of the GMG forever unsolved.

Now, I’m not saying Gruvia Week is bad for all artists or writers. I actually think for artists and writers just starting out, it’s a GREAT thing. Being reblogged by the Gruvia Week tumblr, which surely has a massive following, helps your art/writing reach more people than it usually would.  

So, I’m not trying to discourage people to participate at all. On the contrary, I’m trying to ENCOURAGE people who read fics or like seeing art/graphics/etc, to ALSO participate. If you can’t draw, or can’t write, but you enjoy it when other people do, LET THEM KNOW. No one wants a dead pairing week, and not providing feedback is the fastest way to kill future ship weeks.

The reason I kept participating every year, for the last three years, was because I hoped things would be better this time. They never were. If anything, if got worse year after year. I’m not saying everything I write is a masterpiece, and I should be showered with a constant stream of praise. But as I explained at the start, the amount of notes and favs do not add up with the amount of actual reviews/feedback received.

This is the most manga time conscious Gray and Juvia have had together in the last six months *cries*

I know some people can be shy. I know some people just like to lurk. But please think of the person creating the content that you just enjoyed. Yes, they drew art this week, or wrote a fic this year, so you already received your reward. But what is the artist’s reward? What are they getting out of it, and what is their incentive to write another story, draw more art, make another graphic, or video? You are not giving them a reason to. And that is exactly why so many people quit drawing, writing, or contributing to fandom all together. So, please don’t let that happen. Please make this Gruvia Week different.

Gray: We are so attractive. 

Juvia: We really are, Gray-sama. I hope people read this whole thing and didn’t just look at our gorgeous faces. 

Gray: I can’t blame them if they did just that. We are fabulous. 

anonymous asked:

i have a prompt for your supercorp miniseries! kara and lena go for kombucha and one spills some on the other and rushes to clean it only to realize in the middle of what they're doing that they're TOUCHING THEIR CRUSH and ~sexual tension~ ensues (you fill in the rest 😉)

She doesn’t mean to be so clumsy – she’s not her cousin, after all.

But when Lena leans across their little corner booth and tells her in that voice – that sultry, low, teasing voice that keeps Kara up at night, that just last week made her nearly fly into the side of a building because just the thought of it made her so damn distracted – that they can go for donuts after if Kara really needs to uncleanse her system, Kara doesn’t know whether to flail her arms slightly or adjust her glasses.

She goes for both.

And promptly spills fermented tea all over Lena’s blouse.

“Lena, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she’s up with super speed, righting the glass and grabbing a napkin and dabbing at Lena’s shirt.

Lena, who’s always so quick to reassure her – because even though this is the first time Kara has spilled something on Lena’s clothes, it’s not the first time she’s spilled something on the table – that it’s alright, that it’s no matter, that only she can make bouts of clumsiness delightfully charming (which, of course, makes Kara splutter more, risk more inanimate objects), Lena is silent now.

And Kara panics, because Lena isn’t fake or artificial – Kara loves that about her – but she’s a business woman, and she’s ever mindful of her reputation, and is this too much? Messing up her work clothes, messing up her appearance, has she made one too many mistakes this time, has she…

She looks up at Lena with tears shining in her eyes – “Lena, really, I’m so sorry” – but the look on Lena’s face isn’t writing a story of embarrassment. 

It’s writing a story of something else entirely.

Which makes Kara suddenly realize.

Realize where her fingers are, realize where her hands are. 

Lena’s body, Lena’s shirt, Lena’s… chest.

She reddens brighter than her cape and she splutters and mostly, she focuses on breathing. Or, on trying to.

Because Lena’s body is stiff but not unwilling; her eyes are wide, but not with annoyance or anger; her lips are slightly parted and her pupils are dilating.

And, this might be cheating, but Kara is suddenly aware of Lena’s heart rate shooting through the roof.

“Kara,” is the first thing Lena says – the only thing she seems capable of saying – and Kara gulps before whispering (why are we whispering she wonders, but she also knows) the only response she can think of.

“Lena.”

She doesn’t move her hands. 

She knows – she’s not sure how she knows, but it may have something to do with the hunger in Lena’s eyes, despite the fact that she’d declared herself too full to eat another bite not five minutes ago – that Lena doesn’t want her to move her hands.

“Very gallant of you. Helping me like this. I always did say you’re my hero, Kara Danvers.”

Kara revels in the way her name sounds rolling off this woman’s tongue, and she swears she will never tease Alex for utterly short-circuiting around Maggie again.

“I… it… well I caused the mess, so – “

“Yes. Yes, you did.” But there’s no accusation in Lena’s voice. More of a double entendre. More of an… admission?

“There’s a dry cleaner up the street. I’ve – um – Supergirl’s saved the storefront more than once, and the woman who works there um – “

“Owes National City’s hero, and therefore mine as well, a favor or two?”

Kara nods helplessly, and Lena bites her lip.

“What ever will I wear in the meantime?” Lena wants to know, and if Kara were feeling bolder – if she were wearing her cape, if her glasses were off – she would consider asking if Lena really felt it necessary to wear anything at all in the meantime.

But as it is, she splutters and she reddens and Lena doesn’t make fun of her. Lena just smiles.

“Come,” she says, offering her hand to Kara as she stands, and when Kara accepts it, they both keen at the loss of her hands elsewhere. “What are friends for if not to take each other to the dry cleaners when kombucha gets spilled?”

Later, Kara will ask her about this whole friends thing.

Because never before has friends felt quite so much like dating.

Never before has friends felt quite so much like please let me touch you you’re all I can think about do you want me too or are you actually serious about this being platonic?

But right now?

Right now, the way Lena’s eyes smolder and the way her smile shines; the way her hand feels in Kara’s, neither of them letting go?

Feels like a damn good start toward that conversation.

—One of these nights 💔touken&blackreaper headcanon

summary: Months after turning into the Black Reaper, Kaneki makes Touka a phone call.

I think I’m gonna keep doing this for a while now, “mini fics” for certain headcanons that I don’t feel like writing as a 3,000(or more) word fic due to many reasons (lack of inspiration, the plot not being strong enough for a long fic, things I wanna keep short..) all of these mini fics (that will reach their limit with 1,000 words approx..) will end with “headcanon” at the end of the title… you can read the rest of these headcanons // mini fics series here, and I will add the link on my fics page as well. These headcanons will have a very poor and light writing, so don’t expect the greatest prose of all—hence the whole point of being just a headcanon, haha. You can also request headcanons/mini fics for me to write this way, it’s way easier and faster(&less frustrating) than writing a whole one-shot :’) remember, these are not full fics like most of my writings, so there might be some writing differences! 

enjoy this little thing!


It’s been months since Haise went to :re.

Actually, almost a year.

Yes, Touka kept the count. It would have been embarrassing to admit it years ago when she was still a teenager, when proud was like a shield that would protect her lonely and wrinkled heart from people obsessed with abandon her. But she’s not proud anymore, and her arms feel way too tired to keep holding the shield against her chest when her heart has been already torn apart so many times. She has lost so much already, that sometimes she feels that there’s nothing else to lose anymore. So it won’t matter… it won’t matter.

She counts the days, the minutes, the hours, as she feels Yomo’s gaze upon her back, parting his lips to say something (something that she fears it may sound like “he’s not coming back”) but quickly shouting them again, not finding the courage to speak. She stares behind the window, waiting for something, always waiting for something… but nothing appears.

Last time Haise visited :re, he decided that he would be a bold guy. Girls like bold guys, and if he really wanted for that pretty waitress to set his eyes on him and actually see him, instead of seeing something else (he had that vague impression sometimes), he decided to give a small but decided first step. When she turned around towards the counter after delivering him his coffee, he took a paper and a pen and with shaky hands he wrote a simple but important question.

“Can I have your number?
-Haise.”

Keep reading

Tip & Tricks on Dialogue

hey y’all. so I thought I’d impart some knowledge about how to craft good dialogue because I think sometimes not feeling confident in one aspect of writing can discourage people from doing it all together. And it can be especially tricky with Check Please! (since you’ve never had the chance to physically hear the characters talk). 

so here’s a few things to consider the next time you write 

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Coffee and Colors (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You’re a historian who agreed to help Lin through his writer’s block. You’re taken with him immediately and spend a lot of the time being distracted by the charming company you’re keeping.

Word Count: 1,127

Warnings: y i k e s. nothing really though.

A/N: Literally, @gratitudejoyandsorrow is a blessing and patiently played my soundboard all day and @l-nmanuel is absolutely a m a z i n g. This fic would’ve found a new home in the trash bin if not for these two. 
__________________________

It was a friend of a friend, who had this friend, who knew someone who needed your assistance. They told you that he had ideas that he couldn’t possibly get down on paper without help and you were the perfect person to do it. You normally would brush the idea off but after having spent weeks pent up with your newest research paper, getting out and about didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You figured if nothing else, some fresh air and coffee out of a cup that wasn’t your Columbia University mug would do you some good.

That’s how you found yourself walking into the coffee shop that you had been instructed to be at, at the exact time you were instructed to be there. The soft chime of the bell drew a few eyes to you but no one stood up so you figured he wasn’t there yet. You took the opportunity to order coffee and find a table by the window, pulling out your notebook and scrawling down anything you thought might help the paper you were returning to tonight. 

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Listen Up Guys

Okay, guys, listen up.

I’ve seen a lot of hate going around for different writers (just three examples are @hamimagines @forlifeloveandhappiness and @offiicialhamilton - and that’s JUST on Tumblr, and JUST in the world of Hamilton fanfics, and JUST the ones I can think of off of the top of my head) and they’ve all been really gracious about it and dealing with it well and everything, but I’m addressing this right here and right now.

If you don’t like their stories, don’t fcking read them. If you don’t like the way they ended, keep it to yourself or rant to your friends. Imagine it ended some other way. Don’t give them sht about it. If you don’t like their lack of updates, then get over it. It’s not your choice to dictate when they’ll update and when they won’t. If you don’t want to wait, then stop reading their stuff, imagine your own scenarios as to how it could end up going or what’s coming next, or find something else to read for the time being.

Everyone on here is a normal person, just like you or me.

Everyone on here has a life outside of social media. Sports, homework, college, extracurriculars, jobs, family, friends, pets, traveling, etc., etc.

They’re not robots ready to write another fic every time you’re occupied with another one just so you’ll never run out of material to read. They have other things to be doing, and we all need to respect that. (Also, ever heard of this thing called writer’s block? Gasp! It exists! And it f*cking sucks - trust me, I’ve had it before!)

I haven’t updated any of my Wattpad fics in probably a year, and some people say they’ll update and then don’t for the next three to seven years (or ever again!)

Be glad they’re writing at all! I know this isn’t my battle to fight for the three mentioned above, but this is an issue that not only do I feel rather close to as a writer on another site, but I’ve seen it happen all over the place to all sorts of people, and I’m not about to sit here while you make others feel down about themselves because you’ve run out of reading material and need someone to take it out on! I’ve seen this far too much on far too many sites and something needs to be done about it, so this is me, telling you exactly what I think about all the negative things you have to say to these writers.

Do you know how hard it is to publish your writing for anyone in the world to see at any given time? It’s TERRIFYING! You have no IDEA how people will react and get extremely self conscious about your writing - nitpicking every little thing and taking out some of your favorite parts just because you think others won’t like it. Let me tell you right now that it took me a long time to get over it, and it kept coming back to me. Heck, probably the last five chapters on most of my actually published stories are all boring and pointless author’s notes from a year ago! I get horrible writers block and I’ve NEVER finished a story! I’ve written so many drabbles that I’m too afraid to share with anyone and I have two Wattpad accounts just so if I write something I think my friends won’t like, they won’t see it because it’ll be on my “closet account.” So yeah, pretty freaking terrifying, and it’s a major blow to my confidence every time someone even READS OVER my work without smiling - even worse when people criticize it.

Do you know how bad it makes me feel when someone calls me an ***hole because I won’t update, continually badgers me about the way I write something, or says I suck at writing?

I can guarantee you right now that it makes most writers feel awful, but even though a lot of them can get over it (sorry, I’m not exactly one who does it easily), there are still some who can’t, or are going through something so tough that some little comment that wouldn’t bother you could have concussive effects on their life, and you’d have no idea who they were before you did it or what happened once you did.

I get it, you have a life, too, and you’d like to be able to sit back and enjoy a few hours of reading - believe me, I do that all the time - but there are other sites you can find fics on, actual books you can read, ones you’ve already read that you can reread, ones you might want to write yourself, and of course, other wonderful authors out there!

To all the writers out there who are brave enough to post their writing online (or anywhere - or maybe not at all), you’re amazing, and I really appreciate your hard work, even if I haven’t read your writing, and even if it isn’t exactly my cup of tea. Don’t let anybody get you down or tell you otherwise because even if your writing is still in it’s developing stages, just a few weeks can do wonders for your thought process on your stories or your writing style.

If you feel like you need more fics (or non-fic stories) to read because apparently you can’t handle waiting for an update from anyone on here, or you feel like you’d like to spread your writing or need a different scene for it, then I’d suggest, if you haven’t already tried them, either Ao3 (archivesofourown.com), Wattpad (Wattpad.com), or ffn (fanfiction.net)

Okay, rant over, thanks for listening :)

the skies above us

written for @alittledizzy as part of @fandomtrumpshate

length: 14.8k

genre(s): fluff+angst

triggers/warnings: implied panic attack/anxiety, canonical character death mentions

Baz and Simon meet in a community center art class and become fast enemies; much to the chagrin of their matchmaking therapist. Over the next few months tensions escalate, paint is thrown, coffee is had, and the two of them learn that there’s more to life than just doing what’s expected of you

playlist | ao3

a/n: bless @cherryonsimon for being the most patient beta and best friend and for staying up until 5am reading this over!! and a huge thank you to all of my friends who listened to me talk about this fic for ages and who offered their support throughout the entire process 💜 (this fic will crash the mobile app so if you’re on your phone i recommend reading on ao3 ^__^)



Simon

“How’ve you been, Simon?”

I shrug, and Ebb writes something down in her notebook. I crane my neck to see what it is, and she pulls it back. Frowning, I lean back on the couch and cross my arms. It’s not like she’s said something bad, it’s just a habit I’d picked up over the years. Being in and out of therapy since you were a child tends to make you curious about what they’re saying about you, especially if their evaluation could determine whether you get shuffled around yet again.

Not like that would actually happen with Ebb, especially since I aged out of the system a while ago, but it’s still a knee-jerk reaction to seeing someone taking down notes about me. Never mind that I’ve been seeing the same therapist for six months; some habits are hard to break.

Ebb is the best person I know, which is probably a weird thing to say about someone you pay to listen to your problems; but when you don’t have a lot of people in your corner, you learn to appreciate the ones who are.

Her office looks nothing like the small cramped rooms of the therapists I’d been sent to when I was a kid. It’s large and airy, with a red couch covered in pillows and crocheted afghans. The walls are completely covered in pictures of people, of places, of things. The first time I’d visited, I’d asked Ebb about her walls, and she’d just laughed and told me it reminded her of her life.

“What about it?” I’d asked.

“That I’ve lived it,” she’d replied and laughed again.

I love Ebb’s laugh. She laughs like everything matters, and it’s nice to hear. Encouraging. It’s one of the many reasons I keep coming back.

She’s still waiting for my answer, but I don’t feel pressured. That’s another thing I like about Ebb: she gets it. She knows that sometimes words are hard for me and that sometimes you just get sad for no real reason.

Ebb lost her brother when she was young. I know this because she accidentally let it slip during a session one day. I felt like a jerk for not comforting her, only watching as she’d wiped her eyes on the cuff of her jumper, but I know she understood.

Other people’s emotions are hard for me to handle, but I’m getting better at it, I think. I should probably ask Penny, considering she’s basically the only person I talk to regularly, now that Agatha’s broken up with me and moved away to the States. To California. To “find herself”, whatever the hell that means.

“I’ve been…okay,” I finally say, and Ebb nods.

“Just okay?”

“Well–,” I pause, “I did have an incident at work…”

Ebb nods, and I take it as encouragement to continue.

“I got fired again.”

“Uh oh,” she says, but not in a way that makes me feel bad.

“I messed up a customer’s drink and got so anxious as I was trying to fix it that I broke the machine.”

She tuts and writes something in her notebook again. My curiosity is too much this time. “What are you writing?”

“Just a reminder,” she replies, “I’ll tell you at the end of the session.”

That doesn’t completely satisfy my curiosity, but I drop the subject anyway.

We spend the rest of the hour discussing my week–what I’ve done, what I haven’t done, what I should be doing,–until the timer on Ebb’s side table beeps and she uncrosses her legs. Her head is bent, and I want to ask what she was going to say before, but she beats me to it.

“Have you thought about taking up a hobby?” she asks, pen still scratching across the paper as she looks up at me.

That’s not what I was expecting. “I mean…” I trail off, trying to remember the last time I’d done anything that could be considered a “hobby”. I play football with friends sometimes, except…except it’s been years since I’ve actually done anything like that. Christ, has it been that long? “It hasn’t exactly been a priority to me.” I say, avoiding Ebb’s inquiring gaze.

“Well, maybe it should be,” she says in a way that makes me think I don’t have a choice in the matter. Maybe that’s a good thing, because I know if I were on my own I’d never push myself to find something.

“Like what?”

“I was thinking something therapeutic. Like… relaxing. Have you ever taken a painting class before?”

“You mean outside school?”

She nods.

“No.”

“Would you be interested in trying one?”

I shrug. Again.

She sets her pen down and tears a page out of her notebook, folds it, and hands it to me. “Here’s the information about the class. You don’t have to attend, but I think It’d be good for you.”

I take the paper, and look at the class name. “Why painting and drawing?”

“Well, Simon, I could list all of the reasons it’s beneficial to your mental health, but that’s boring and you don’t want to hear it. Long story short: it might make you happy and that’s a damn good reason, in my opinion.”

I nod, because I feel like I’m supposed to agree.

We make my next appointment, and as I’m leaving she says, “I really do think this will be good for you, Simon.” It’s like she can tell that I’m considering tossing the number, and I make a firm decision not to.

I wave goodbye and duck out the door, shoving the paper roughly into my jacket pocket. It feels heavier than it should, and I know it’s because I’m overthinking this. (As usual.) I’ll probably feel better once I have more information, but the thought of me enjoying an art class makes me want to laugh. I’m not artistic in any way, and I really don’t have any interest in spending time looking at stupid bowls of fruit, or drawing naked people, or whatever people do in classes like this.

But I’ll do it. For Ebb. (And because maybe she’s right about this. Maybe it will make me happy.)

(Something has to.)

Keep reading

Harry Hook x reader | Yours

requested; prompt #38. “ You make me wanna die. ” + Harry Hook x reader

and request number two was: Harry Hook x reader fighting and in the end realizing they actually love each other.

I hope you enjoy ! Also, not edited ! [ as a side note: Coral is a character I’ve made up for this one shot !

Pairings; Harry Hook x reader , platonic!Evie x reader

master list

-

“ You know, staring won’t help you, (Y/N), ” Evie sighed looking at her (h/c) friend.

(Y/N) pouted, “ You know, E, it would be so much easier to hate her if she was - you know - ugly, but she is not. She’s gorgeous, a princess and A mermaid ! I can’t compete with that Evie! ” the girl whined , letting her blue haired friend hug her.

“ You don’t have to compete with Coral, dear. You just have to talk with Harry, tell him how you feel. ”

(Y/N)’s eyes were fixed on the pair that sat a couple of tables away from them. Harry’s arm wrapped around Coral’s shoulders, she making him laugh, making him happy, “ And why would I do that Evie? Look at them,” she cried, “ They’re happy, he never smiled like that with me. ”

Evie followed (Y/N)’s gaze until her eyes spotted the couple. The son of Hook and the second daughter of Ariel. Who could’ve known that they would fall for each other ? The bluenette hugged (Y/N) tighter, like if she could protect her from getting even more hurt.

“ He may like her, but I’m sure he loves you. He always did, even back on the isle, but then we didn’t know what love felt like. ”

“ If he loves me, then why is there someone else in his arms, E ? It does not make sense. At all. ”

(Y/N) knew that Evie only tried to help her, to cheer her up, even if it didn’t work she would try to seem happy for the sake of her best friend.

“ I don’t know everything, (Y/N), but I do know that I stand with you,” Evie smiled, “ whatever you decide I’ll respect it. ”

(Y/N) relaxed a bit in her friend’s embrace, “ I don’t even know what I should tell him. I’m a mess. ”

“ We’ll figure it out. Together. We always do. ”

-

Making right decisions was never (Y/N)’s strongest part. She always acted based on her feelings and sometimes that wasn’t the right way.

(Y/N) decided to give Harry the silent treatment. Every time , the past few months, when he tried to talk with her, (Y/N) wouldn’t say anything and sometimes Evie was there to help her out, like promised.

The only time when she spoke to him was two weeks ago, when (Y/N) was putting her books back in her locker and suddenly Harry came behind her, determined to get something out from her. He was oblivious to the reason why she was aoivding him.

“ C'mon, (Y/N), ye never ignored me. We’re friends since we were kids. You can’t just completely push me away,” Harry whined

(Y/N) , however, kept her silence, pretending he wasn’t there, “ At least tell me why. What did I do? ”

(Y/N) wanted to shout to his face that he had missed their ten years friendship anniversary, that was last week, also forgot about the fact that Wednesday was their day to spent together and also didn’t remember to come and support her at dancing classes. Of course, minor things, but they mattered to (Y/N). And it was painful for her , knowing that he was with Coral all along.

When she tried to walk pass him, Harry grabbed her wrist, “(Y/N). ”

She gritted her teeth frowning, forgetting about the promise she made to herself : to ignore him , “ Let me go, Harold. Aren’t you supposed to be with that girlfriend of yours ? ” she spat, then a lot slowly added “ just like the past few weeks. ”

Harry blinked, “ What did ye said? Y’re jealous over my relationship with Coral? God, (Y/N)-”

“ August 15. That was last week, Harry,” (Y/N) interrupted him, “ Our ten year friendship anniversary. You didn’t show up,” (Y/N) explained, “ I stayed in the cafeteria five hours and when I finally decided to give up and go back to my room, I saw you outside - kissing her. ”

The sudden realization hit Harry, but the boy didn’t want to be the one who’s faul was, so he tried defending himself, “ It was just one anniversary, anyways, ” Harry spat, “ Seriously with all the annoying things you’re doing lately, you make me wanna die, ”. The second the words came out of his mouth, he felt bad for being so harsh.

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped open, “ W-what?”

Her vision started to become blurry , tears spilling over her face, “ How could you say that, Harry ? ”

Breathing slowly, (Y/N) composed her position again, wipping the tears away - remembering that she couldn’t show weakness, even if they weren’t on the isle anymore, “ This -” she said gesturing between the space separating their bodies, “ whatever we had,” she paused, making eye contact with him, “ was the only thing keeping me, hell, keeping us sane on that damn isle! And yet, here you are, saying it’s not that important. That your new stupid girlfriend it is more worthy than me? Than what we had ? I-”

(Y/N) stopped herself from talking, knowing she’ll regret what was going to say next, “ I gotta go,” she murmured , “ You should go too, don’t let your princess wait too much. ”

And these were the last words (Y/N) said to Harry, words full of hatred, envy. She didn’t regret them, no. The thing (Y/N) regretted was - not punching him, because he deserved that.

And these past two weeks haven’t been painful only for the two of them, but also for everyone else.

Firstly, every time (Y/N) and Harry saw each other they’d argue and yell , only building more tension between them and their groups of friends.

Evie noticed how (Y/N) started to fall apart - refusing to go out with her, even if that was one of her favorites things to do, not wanting to go at the movie night with Mal, Carlos and Jay anymore, isolating herself.

Uma noticed as well, how Harry started to act strange. Not being his flirtatious self, not eating properly, hell, not making fun of others. It was like he was a walking ghost.

The two groups tried everything in their power to make Harry and (Y/N) talk but every attempt failed. Only making things worse. So they stopped. Now trying to keep the distance between the two of them.

-

“ (Y/N)? You with us?” Fairy Godmother asked, waving her hand in front of the girl’s face, “ Huh?”

“ Today we’re doing a group assignment. I’ve paired you with Coral, you gotta go next to her, ” the women smiled, unaware of the death glare (Y/N) was giving her.

“ Fine. ”

For the next half an hour, Coral kept talking about what they should to for the assignment. (Y/N), of course, ignoring her completely. She couldn’t care less about grades.

“ So, what do you think about my suggestions?” the red haired girl smiled brightly

“ Whatever you want, princess. They’re good, I don’t really care. ”

“ Fine, then we’ll do what I proposed. You’re great, (Y/N)! Harry was right about you. ”

At the mention of his name, (Y/N)’s eyes widened ,“ H-harry ? What did he say?”

Coral shrugged, “It’s amazing that you two have been friends for so long. He talks about you all the time.”

” What?“

“Yeah! I have to say, I have no idea how you haven’t fallen in love with him yet. Lucky for me, though!”

Love. (Y/N) didn’t know what love felt like, Evie was right - they were all unaware of how being loved felt like or how is it to love someone. What if she love him all along ?

” I -“ (Y/N) murmured, ”- have to go. “

” Wait ! The assignment !“ Coral yelled after her, but (Y/N) was already gone from the classroom, letting everyone confused.

-

(Y/N) was frozen in front of Harry’s room, she was ready to knock, but her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid it might explode.

She wasn’t really sure how she got into that situation. (Y/N) remembered talking with Evie, drinking some wine, and now here she was - in front of his door. As the effect from the wine was wearing off she was ready to back away.

But the door opened, letting (Y/N) with her hand in the air and her expression shocked. Harry was staring at her with a confused look, ” (Y/N)?“

’ C'mon, say something, say something. Anything. Don’t look like a fool. He’s your best friend. Say something. ’ she was whispering in her mind.

However, what she said wasn’t what she had planned, ” I’m sorry. I thought I can do this, but I was wrong,“ (Y/N) sighed, turning on her heels.

Harry’s voice stopped her, ” Why is it so hard for you?“

(Y/N) laughed sarcastically, turning around, letting him see how vulnerable she was , “Really? After all these years, you’re still going to pretend you don’t know?””

Harry closed the door being him and moved closer to (Y/N), “ What are you talking about?”

“ I love you. ”

(Y/N) couldn’t believe that she actually said these words out loud, for the first time in her life to the boy whom she truly loved.

“I-”

“And I know, now is the worst timing ever, but I just… I’ve almost told you so many times, and I just needed you to know.”

Now, if she remembered carefully, (Y/N) tried to confess how she really felt since they were ten years old, having then four years of pure friendship behind.

“ I don’t know what to say, I-”

“ It’s okay, you may not feel the same way, plus…you do have a girlfriend. I - ” she sighed , “ I needed to get this off my chest. It’s been years, I should’ve told you sooner. ”

Not wanting to pit any more pressure on him, (Y/N) turned around and left Harry in the hallway. She walked to her and Evie’s shared room, (Y/N) needed a shoulder to cry on.

“ I loved you. I did,” Harry whispered for himself , before going back into his room. He haven’t felt this confused and sad in his whole life and he had plenty of awful situation back on the isle.

-

Another week passed and Evie made sure to always keep Harry away; she didn’t know exactly what they’ve talked, but she remembered how (Y/N) came into their room, crying and she could not stand seeing her friend so broken.

Coral noticed that something was up as well, when (Y/N) didn’t show for the class or to do their assignment. Also , Harry was now avoiding her.

“ Harry, wait ! ” the red headed girl shouted after her boyfriend when she finally saw him at the cafeteria.

“ Coral, uh, I-”

“ You need to go, I know, ” she smiled, the girl had pretty much figure out what was with him, “ Go. ”

“ What?”

“ Go be with her. ”

Harry’s mouth dropped open, “But I-”

Coral smiled, “I know. I understand, really. (Y/N)’s your true love. Go, it’s better this way.

The pirate smiled relaxed ,” Thank ya, I appreciate it. “

-

(Y/N) was disturbed by someone throwing rocks at her window. She was ready to turn the person into a frog, until she opened the window and saw it was no other than Harry Hook, grinning mischievously.

” What do you want, Harry?“

The boy’s grin disappeared, Harry adopting a more serious look, ” Can you forgive me ?“

The girl frowned , ” Why would I need to? You did nothing wrong, “ she said

” I was with Coral. “

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, ” Harry…we weren’t even …together. “

” Still. I was yours. And I…Please?“

(Y/N) tried to find any sign of lying , but she couldn’t. He was telling the truth, ” Of course, Harry , I was yours all along too. “

Originally posted by adisneylover92things

adult!Remus Lupin Imagine - Stop Thinking

“Can I ask for a fic request? Lupin x reader… but it’s POA era so Lupin is a professor and the reader is a 7th year. They both dance around the fact that they’re clearly attracted to each other and he’s desperately trying to be the responsible teacher but eventually they succumb to their attraction…? :D x” - @nervetonic

“Hey so requests are open? Could you please do something with adult Remus Lupin x reader? There’s so many young Remus stuff, which I love, but I could barely find adult remus stuff. Thank you so much! :3″ - Anon

So it sure has been a long time since I’ve posted anything lololol. I am going to put a slight warning on this one - I didn’t write a student/teacher relationship, but I did make the reader considerably younger than Remus. Also I’m going to have a language warning because I definitely threw in a couple of “fuck”s. As always I proofread a bunch so if there are any errors please forgive me! To the anon whose request I combined into the original one I received, if you’re not happy with this please feel free to send in another request when I open them back up; Remus is my fave and I would be happy to write more imagines for him!

Word Count: 4,000+

PART TWO

The Great Hall overflowed with excited students, each trying to talk over the others as they welcomed the new members of their houses and reconnected with their friends. The sorting had just finished and Dumbledore was preparing to stand and give his traditional start of term speech.

(Y/n) glanced around Hagrid, who was seated next to her, down the long table that seated all of the Hogwarts’ professors. Her eyes connected with Professor McGonagall, who nodded slightly, offering (y/n) a small encouraging smile. (Y/n) smiled back, before continuing to peer down the table; she quickly skimmed past Snape, avoiding eye contact, before landing on a new professor she didn’t recognize.

His face was adorned with a few small slashes that had faded into the premature wrinkles around his eyes. The flecks of grey in his hair shone in the light from the thousands of candles hanging above them. He smiled slightly at something Professor Flitwick said and (y/n) couldn’t help but admit that he was handsome. She continued to stare at his profile only slightly paying attention to the other professors chatting around her.

(Y/n)’s reverie was broken by Dumbledore standing and beginning his welcome speech. She flushed when she realized how openly she had been staring at the new professor and tried to focus on Dumbledore’s words.

“This year we are happy to welcome a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Remus Lupin,” Dumbledore said, gesturing toward the man (y/n) had just been admiring as he stood and nodded his head at the students who were giving some half-hearted applause at the announcement. “We are also happy to announce that our own groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, will be taking over as the Care of Magical Creatures professor.” The Gryffindor table erupted into applause, supported weakly by the other houses, when Hagrid stood, looking a bit sheepish. “I would also like to welcome a recent Hogwarts graduate, Ms. (y/n) (y/l/n), who will be working with Hagrid in both his teaching and maintenance endeavors.” You gave a small nod and wave to your former house, who had given a few small cheers in response Dumbledore’s announcement.

Dumbledore gave a few short announcements, half-jokingly warned the first years about the Forbidden Forest, and finally concluded with a wave of his hand. The feast began and (y/n) took up a conversation with Hagrid and Professor Sprout, discussing new treatments for this year’s pumpkin harvest. Despite being engrossed in her conversation, (y/n) found herself glancing over at the new professor, Professor Lupin she had just learned, every few minutes.

~

The first few weeks of the school year were a whirlwind for Remus. Classes had been going well, the students seemed to be enjoying them and seeing Harry for the first time in so many years had been both gut-wrenching and heartwarming. Remus was currently working on his lesson plans for the next couple of weeks, and considering how successful he had been, he thought it best to send for a few magical creatures to give the students more hands on practice.

Remus considered placing his own order, but thought it would be more efficient to tack it onto whatever Hagrid was probably getting for his own class. He began the trek down to Hagrid’s hut as the sun was setting and upon arriving he was not greeted by Hagrid, but by a girl skillfully ushering a hoard of nifflers into a pen set up next to Hagrid’s garden. She was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun and Remus found himself staring at her as she shooed the last one through the gate and locked it with a tap of her wand. She turned to Remus and stopped short, jumping a little, obviously surprised by his presence.

“Sorry to scare you,” Remus said, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed at the way he had been watching her. He cleared his throat, shaking off the feeling. “Ms. (y/l/n), correct?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” (y/n) broke her silence. They both paused for a moment before (y/n) spoke up again, “did you need something?” Her eyes grew a little and she quickly backtracked. “I’m so sorry, that didn’t come out right. I just-”

“It’s alright,” Remus chuckled, “I know what you meant. I was actually looking for Hagrid, is he around?”

“No, he headed into Hogsmeade for the evening,” (y/n) paused, still looking a little disoriented, “sorry about that, but if it’s not too complicated I might be able to help.”

Remus chuckled, “I was actually thinking of ordering a grindylow to use during lessons, is Hagrid putting in an order soon?”

“Yeah, we were going to send the order in tomorrow, so we can add that to the list,” (y/n) signaled for Remus to follow her into Hagrid’s hut. “I would have loved having real lessons with actual magical creatures last year,” (y/n) said while searching for the order sheet amongst the stacks of paper spread across Hagrid’s table. “We only had one lesson that was hands on, and it was with Cornish Pixies, so I’m sure you can imagine how that ended.”

Remus and (y/n) laughed together, “I’ve heard a few stories of Professor Lockhart,” Remus said, a small smile still spread across his face.

“You’re lucky you never had to meet him,” (y/n) mumbled, still sifting through the mountain of papers.

“Actually, we were at Hogwarts at the same time, I was a bit older but I heard quite a few stories of his… escapades?” Remus and (y/n) laughed again, but he could see that something had flashed in her eyes. She stiffened slightly and looked back down at the table.

“Here it is,” (y/n) said holding up the order, she cleared a small part of the table and retrieved a quill preparing to add ‘grindylow’ to the list. “Just the one?” she asked, glancing back up at Remus.

“I think that should be fine, do you agree? You are the expert on magical creatures here,” he said, coaxing a smile out of (y/n).

“Hardly,” she said, “that’s why I’m working with Hagrid, there’s always more to learn.”

The pair paused, looking at each other, Remus still couldn’t decipher what was going on in her mind.

“I think just the one should be fine,” (y/n) said breaking the silence that was quickly becoming awkward and jotting it down at the bottom of the list.

Remus and (y/n) walked out of Hagrid’s hut in silence, pausing at the bottom of the stairs that led to Hagrid’s door. Remus couldn’t help but compare the moment to the end of a first date. He quickly forced the thought away, and cleared his throat before thanking (y/n).

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” (y/n) said, smiling before looking back down at the ground, “it’s getting dark so uh-”

“I should probably get back up to the castle before it’s too dark to see,” Remus said, trying to smile or laugh, anything to remove the tension from the moment. “I’m sure I’ll see you around the grounds,” he said starting to walk away, “or whenever I have any questions for the magical creature expert.”

“You should probably make sure Hagrid is here then,” (y/n) said smirking and offering a small wave. She turned and headed toward her small hut that had been built next to Hagrid’s.

Remus walked the entire way back up to the castle with a smile that he couldn’t quite shake off. She’s practically a student, he told himself, you’re almost double her age. Remus paused a few steps away from the entrance to his office. There’s nothing wrong with being her friend, she works at Hogwarts, and you’re bound to run into her. Remus finally entered his office, taking off his cloak and preparing for bed, the entire time repeating loose justifications for spending time with (y/n) to himself.

~

(Y/n) quickly entered her hut, shutting and bolting the door before leaning her back against it. She slid down onto the floor and pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. Holy shit (y/n) get a grip. He’s a professor. (Y/n) dropped her hands from her face and pulled her knees to her chest, but you work here now. “That doesn’t change anything” she whispered aloud, slowly getting up and changing into a huge tshirt and athletic shorts before sitting down on the edge of her bed.

(Y/n) flopped backwards and crossed her arms over her face. She replayed the evening in her mind. She had felt his equal through their conversation, and then he had mentioned attending Hogwarts with Lockhart and (y/n) had realized just how unequal they were. He was a professor, and she was still practically a student. But the way he looked at me- (y/n) cut off her own thought, you can’t think like that, he was just being friendly.

Removing her arms from her face, (y/n) slipped under the covers and struggled to fall asleep and her mind raced with justifications for talking to Remus again.

~

Over the next couple of weeks Remus started to seek out little conversations with (y/n) whenever he got the chance. Remus would “forget” little facts about magical creatures, and asking (y/n) for the answer was easier than looking it up in some old book, right? He pretended not to thrive off the way her eyes lit up when as she answered his questions, or the way her lips would curl into a smirk whenever they joked with each other.

Remus was making his way across the grounds one afternoon when he saw (y/n) coming toward him looking solemn. Completely absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn’t even see Remus coming.

“(Y/n)?” Remus called, causing to her look at him with wide eyes, reminding Remus of their first official meeting. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Yeah- well, no. No it’s really not.” Remus could see the tears welling up in her eyes. (Y/n) turned her face and blinked hard, fighting them back. She turned back to him, obviously still fighting her emotions, “I have to get up to the castle, excuse me.”

Remus stood and watched her leave, then turned to continue down to Hagrid’s. When he was about halfway there he remembered that (y/n) was the reason he was heading there anyway. I don’t even have a question for her, I just wanted to see her. Remus had to sit on a nearby rock to recover from the shock of his realization. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he rose slowly and headed back toward the castle with every intention of retrieving his bottle of firewhiskey, sitting in his office, and forgetting that this had even happened.

Sitting in his office an hour later, vision blurring at the edges thanks to bottle sitting in front of him, he still couldn’t stop thinking about (y/n).

The image of her with tears in her eyes stirred up a whirlwind of emotion in Remus. In that moment he had longed to draw her into his arms and let her cry. At the same time, he admired how she had handled herself, holding her head high despite her obvious distress.

She’s strong, intelligent, funny, beautiful. Merlin, she’s so pretty. The way she always tucks her hair behind her ears when she starts to talk about her work, or the way she smiles when she sees me coming across the grounds, or the way-

“Fuck.”

~

(Y/n) sat outside the doors of the hospital wing, trying to reign her emotions before going in. She couldn’t cry once she got inside, this was her job, for Merlin’s sake.

Draco had been “attacked” by Buckbeak earlier that day and Hagrid had sent her to check on his progress. (Y/n) wasn’t crying for Draco, her tears were for Hagrid. He had worked so hard to make his lessons exciting and informational, and then Draco had waltzed in and it had all come crashing down. She could see the defeat in Hagrid’s face, he was convinced he would be fired the second Lucius got word that his son was in the hospital wing.

She drew in a single deep breath before rising and pushing the doors open. Her discussion with Madame Pomfrey was short and to the point. As soon as it was over (y/n) rushed back down to Hagrid’s hut so that she could update him.

Once (y/n) finished telling Hagrid that Draco would ultimately be fine, his injuries were all superficial and easily healed, she headed to her hut once again sat against her door trying to gather her thoughts. She found her mind wandering to when she had run into Remus earlier that evening.

He was headed down to Hagrid’s- or maybe to see me? I’ve never seen him actually talk to Hagrid he always comes to spend time with me and ask me questions. Why would he-

“Fuck.”

~

Over the next few of days (y/n) didn’t see Remus at all; the first couple of days weren’t a surprise, there had been a full moon which would have left Remus bedridden. She had figured it out the month before that Remus was a werewolf, and while she been angry at first, she came to realize that it didn’t change him. He was still the man with the kind and gentle smile who visited her and made her laugh whenever he could. The days following the moon were a mystery to (y/n) though, he still hadn’t come to see her and she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

While she was preparing the flobberworms for Hagrid’s, now tamer, class her mind kept wandering back to him. He can’t be mad because I brushed him off when I was crying, right? That’s ridiculous, he’s my… friend? Is that even the right word for what we are? ‘Co-workers’ who spend a lot of time together and are attracted to each other? Or at least, I’m attracted to him, and I don’t think he’s attracted to me… but he has been acting weird.

(Y/n) stood up straight so that she could shake out her shoulders, she just needed to talk to him. She wanted to get back to how they had been before. Whether or not (y/n) was attracted to him was beside the point, that was never going to happen so she might as well be his friend.

Christmas was fast approaching and (y/n) planned to talk to seek out Remus, something she had never needed to do before, so that she could get weird friendship back on track. They were both staying over the break and it would be much easier to talk to him when there weren’t a lot of students milling around and they both didn’t have much work to do.

~

Remus, on the other hand, was hell bent on avoiding (y/n) for as long as he could. The first few days after his realization had been easy because there was a full moon and he needed time to recover, but after that it would steadily grow more difficult. He knew that he should at least tell (y/n) that he had no interest in being her friend, a bold-faced lie, but better than just never talking to her again. However, he also knew that he would never be able to get the words out once he saw her.

Christmas break was starting and Remus wrongfully assumed that (y/n) was going home to see her family. On Christmas Eve he sat at his desk grading the last batch of essays from the sixth years when he heard a soft knock on his already open office door.

He glanced up to see (y/n) standing in his doorway looking sheepish.

“Hi,” she said quietly, offering a small smile. “Do you mind if I…” she trailed off looking at the chair in front of his desk.

After recovering from his mild shock, Remus nodded. “Ye-yes, please sit down. Did you need something?” he asked and without missing a beat continued, “I’m so sorry, that came out wrong-”

“I know what you meant,” (y/n) said trying not to smile, remembering the way they had first met. Remus ducked his head, chuckling slightly. “I just wanted to drop by and say hello… you stopped coming around,” (y/n) paused, knotting her hands together, “I guess you didn’t need my expert advice anymore.”

The pair both gave each other strained smiles. Remus took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. He stood, moved across his office, closed the door, and then returned to his seat across from (y/n). Forcing himself to make eye contact with her, he felt a pang of guilt when he saw how confused and… hurt maybe? he wondered to himself.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been to see you, but… I’m not sure that it’s entirely appropriate for us to see each other as much as we were.”

“I don’t understand,” (y/n) said, having trouble keeping her voice from wavering. “It’s not appropriate for us to talk to each other about our jobs?”

“(Y/n)-”

“No, it’s fine. If you don’t want to talk to me anymore that’s fine. It’s fine. It’s really, really, fine.” Remus could see that (y/n) was forcing back tears, and he knew that he had let this go on too long, but there was no turning back now.

(Y/n) took in a shaky breath and stood quickly forcing her chair back; the screeching sound it made cut through the heavy silence hanging in the air. She turned to the door, but before she could go anywhere Remus stood and caught her arm from across the desk.

“Of course I want to talk to you,” he said, his voice dipping, causing goosebumps to erupt across (y/n)’s arms. He dropped her arm so that he could walk around his desk and stand in front of her. (Y/n) stayed silent, staring at Remus and searching his eyes for the meaning behind his words.

Remus lifted his hand and with a lot of hesitation, rested his palm against (y/n)’s cheek. She flinched slightly at his touch, but allowed him to keep his hand there.

“What are you doing?” (y/n) whispered breathlessly.

“I’m not sure,” Remus replied before tilting his head closer to hers. He could feel his heart pounding as he watched (y/n)’s eyes flickered shut. Remus closed his too and rested his forehead against hers. (Y/n) fisted her hand into the front of his shirt, keeping the other balled at her side.

(Y/n) lifted her chin, brushing her lips softly against Remus’. “This is mad,” she whispered.

“Never been the best at making decisions,” Remus said, out of breath just from his proximity to (y/n).

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Remus’ stomach jumped against (y/n)’s hand as he held back a little laugh at her boldness. Pulling in a shaky breath, he pressed his lips gently to hers, then more forcefully. (Y/n) responded with enthusiasm, letting out a soft moan when Remus slid his hand back into her hair. Remus growled at the sound and snaked his other arm around her waist to pull her flush to him. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her toes to push impossibly close to him. Remus opened his mouth, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, when (y/n) opened her mouth in response, Remus’ eyes flew open suddenly realizing exactly what was happening.

He pulled his mouth way from her and pushed her away from him by the hips, ensuring that she was at least an arm’s length away. Remus turned away from her and ran a hand down his face, letting out a shaky breath.

~

(Y/n) stood where Remus had pushed her breathing heavily. She stared at his tense shoulders, trying to think of something to say. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, he had been in control of the entire situation. (Y/n) stayed quiet, waiting for him to say something, anything.

When Remus finally turned around, breathing under control, (y/n) could see the regret painted across his face. Before he could speak (y/n) spoke.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t wha-”

“You don’t have to explain to me why that was a mistake, or why we shouldn’t talk about it, or see each other, or whatever you were going to say. I don’t want to hear it. If that’s what you really want, fine, but-” (y/n) paused, gathering herself, “but I’m an adult and I can take care of myself.”

They stood staring at each other while (y/n) waited for Remus to say something. When he didn’t she looked away from him, toward to door.

“Cool, okay… yeah, no this is fine.”

“(Y/n),” Remus said, but didn’t continue.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, “I’m going to go back down to my hut. I’m going to make some hot chocolate and pretend like this never happened. It’s not exactly going to be easy, but what’s a girl supposed to do,” she finished chuckling to cover the hurt that laced her voice.

Later that night (y/n) sat in a big armchair that resided in the corner of her hut, reading one of her favorite books and trying to keep her mind off Remus. She wasn’t actually succeeding though, she kept replaying their kiss in her head. It was more than just a kiss, we were making out, like full on-

(Y/n)’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. She rose slowly, expecting Hagrid with some sort of task for her that he didn’t want to handle himself. (Y/n) opened the door while saying, “hi Hagri-”

(Y/n) stopped short at the sight of Remus standing in her doorway.

“Not Hagrid.”

“Yeah, I got that,” (y/n) said quietly. “Do you want to…” she trailed off motioning into the single room of her hut, “it’s freezing outside.”

“Thank you,” Remus said stepping inside. They both stood awkwardly, not really looking at each other. Finally, Remus spoke, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Kissing me or regretting it right after?” (y/n) asked, anger bubbling to the surface.

“Both?” Remus hesitated, “it would have made it a lot easier to work here, with you, had I not.”

“But you did,” (y/n) said forcing her anger down and keeping her tone neutral.

Remus’ shoulders sagged, “I did, and- and I’m glad I did, because I’ve wanted to for longer than I’d care to admit, but… but this isn’t exactly a normal situation. There’s more to this than just-”

“Is this about you being older than me or you being a werewolf?” (y/n) asked without skipping a beat and looking, for the most part, calm.

Remus stared at her, lips drawn into a tight line and jaw clenched.

“I’ve known since last month, you’re not the subtlest when it comes to-”

“I think I should go,” Remus cut (y/n) off. He turned toward the door, prepared to leave and, as far as (y/n) knew, not return.

“I don’t care.”

Remus stopped in his tracks, whipping his head around to give her a stern look. “You should.”

“Well I don’t,” (y/n) paused, gauging Remus’ reaction. When he turned back around to face her, she continued, “I don’t care that you’re a werewolf, because you’re still you. And I don’t what people would think of us. That shouldn’t matter.”

“(Y/n), I just think-”

“So then stop thinking.”

~

Remus let out a sigh, staring at the fierce girl in front of him. She wasn’t backing down, wasn’t making this any easier for him. He hadn’t been sure what he was going to say to her or what direction this conversation was going to go in, but he didn’t expect her to blurt out that she knew he was a werewolf. He sure as hell didn’t expect her to be okay with it.

“You’re still thinking,” (y/n) said when Remus didn’t respond.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“I’m done thinking,” Remus said stepping toward her and resting his hand on her face in the same place it had been only a couple of hours earlier.

“Good,” (y/n) whispered, fisting her hands in his shirt and pushing up on her toes, “that makes two of us.”

~

anonymous asked:

Just write me some andreil my man on that hs au pls

i am assuming all of these consecutive messages came from the same person and honestly, as someone who has nothing better or productive to do in her time, i agree

apologies in advance but, the story behind andrew’s deaf ear will have to come at a later date. like the andreil. this one’s just pure comedy. i’m sorry to disappoint

(previous post)

  • that weekend, neil comes into the minyard-hemmick household a man and comes out a slightly more knowledgeable man who has a penchant for peach thievery
  • let’s look at the facts:
    • he’s running a little late bc he had to give kevin a tongue-lashing for forgetting to take out the trash when trash day was yesterday, twllt din
    • focal leat
    • oh, real mature, kevin
  • anyway, neil got the text of the address about half an hour ago and he kind of maybe got lost on the way because damn, the american suburbs and their stupid cul-de-sacs and nice parts of town
  • when he gets to the minyard-hemmick residence, everything is prosperous, and andrew actually opens the door on the first knock
    • hey, people wait on knocks all the time. expecting guests is very hard.
  • they’re as civil as they could get. 
    • neil apologizes for being late and asks if he could come in 
    • andrew leaves the door open and stomps down the hall 
    • neil tries not to be a little against not leaving his shoes out by the doorway, but he has to Appear Normal

Keep reading

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mongoose-bite!!! Crunchy is one of my favoritest fic authors and also one of the best friends I have made in this fandom! EVERYONE GO WISH HIM A HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And while you’re at it, go read and leave a comment on his fics! I’m going to list twelve of my personal favorites below (altho I could go on and on and on until I run out of fics!). LONG POST TO FOLLOW!


Fuck: My Life 

eruriren, snk

A streak of bad luck leaves Eren desperate for cash, and desperate enough that making porn doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea. He’s young, he’s cute, he’s horny, and his favourite studio is currently hiring. It seems like fate up until he learns that his two most admired actors, whom he spent the majority of his teenage years appreciating, have recently retired.

Still, he is nothing if not determined, and he sets out to see if he can persuade them to make one last movie. And then he gets to know them as people, and things start getting complicated.

Reasons I like it: This is one of the first fics of crunchy’s I ever read and I was obsessedddd. I swear I would be checking my phone for an email on update day like >.> c’monnnnnn. It’s eruriren and super persistent but adorable Eren. Erwin is charming and crunchy’s Levi is always so understated and muted it makes my heart ache. I don’t even like porn star aus but crunchy always makes me love tropes and ships I don’t usually like. 

A Sound Like Breaking Glass

ereri, snk

Eren lives by the ocean in a peaceful, untroubled world with his classmates. He studies, dreams of going out to sea on the boats to see what lies beyond the horizon, spends his afternoons by the water’s edge with his friends, and sneaks out at night more often than he should.
His greatest ambition is to join the crew of the Wings of Freedom, but after making a disastrous first impression on Captain Levi, joining his company will be easier said than done. Despite the insults and the bruising, Eren is determined and he vows to do whatever it takes to impress the captain before the ship is out of drydock.

Reasons I like it: Ngl, it took me several attempts to get into this fic bc I at first thought it was going to be a pirate au? I have the worst reading comprehension I swear. But it is not, it is perfect and I love it and it is actually my absolute favoritest fic of crunchy’s so even though it is in the #2 spot here, second is best. :P The characters are charming and the scenery is beautiful and I can’t say anything more about it without spoiling it. ;3 BUT AHHHHHH!!!

Breach! And Other Stories

winmin, snk

A collection on one-shots written for Winmin Week 2014. Mostly canonverse.

01. Superior and Subordinate: Armin was conflicted. They were superior and subordinate after all, kept apart by rules and regulations and just plain common sense. But the heart wants what it wants, and it wasn’t like there was much else that made Eren smile lately.
02. Stained Hands: Armin wasn’t trying to wash away the blood with ink.
03. Alternate Universe: Erwin is too big for his umbrella.
04. Role Swap: Their first night together after Erwin is rescued.
05. Hurt and Comfort: Faded names remind Erwin of a boy he met long ago.
06. (Free Slot): Breach! Armin goes to the ends of the earth for an interview.
07. The End: Armin insisted on the hood.

Reasons I like it: you know how some fics can ruin you on a ship and you can’t stand it? Well crunchy single handedly rescued winmin for me. I still think about Breach! A LOT. THE WHALES. WINMIN CUTENESS! ARMIN! ERWIN! BLONDE GENIUSES! 

My Old Friend

ereri, snk

When Levi was a teenager, the unrequited love of his life was Eren, his best friend’s father. Fifteen years later, Levi finds himself back in Whitecrest Cove to sell his late uncle’s house.

This story was mostly written for Ereri Week 2015.

Reasons I like it: Imagine, it’s the swinging 2015′s at the height of the the dilf!eren craze, in walks crunchy and suggests…what if…gdilf!Eren. Women are screaming, babies are crying, grown men walking around in a daze because their minds are so blown. No, but really, it’s actually a very poignant story of Levi reconciling his childhood and then grief as an adult and reconnecting with Eren who is a surfing silver fox. It’s quite beautiful. 

Blood Of An Englishman

hartwin, kingsman

Harry’s brains dried in the hot Kentucky sun. A fly landed on an exposed piece of his skull for a few seconds and then buzzed off. His blood seeped into the dust. In the distance sirens began to wail, and the crisp, elegant click of patent leather oxfords on concrete drew to a halt beside his ruined corpse.

“Oh dear,” someone said sadly, although Harry wasn’t alive to hear it. He heard, saw, felt, and was, nothing.

Death is not another country. Death is the deep blue sea.

Or, the one in which Harry is officially dead, actually a wizard, occasionally a small dog, and utterly unable to keep his distance from his young successor.

Reasons I like it: This fic has everything, Harry Hart dead but kindof not dead. Suddenly a wizard. A femme fatale Italian milf sorceress. Eggsy’s cute lil butt. Magic. It’s some impressive world building and I prefer it to the sequel we got instead. 

Too Hot To Handle

erejean, snk

Jean has recently joined MI6’s elite agents as 003 and he couldn’t be happier. His career is going places, his degree is paid for, his job is exciting, if somewhat dangerous, and his handler is the beautiful Mikasa, whom he will definitely certainly ask out soon.

Until it isn’t. Until Mikasa is replaced by Eren, who Jean quickly decides is absolutely the last person he wants talking in his ear when he’s getting shot at.

Reasons I like it: Well first of all I had to include this bc it was a bday present for me. :P I think this might be the only fic of crunchy’s I’ve read from Jean’s perspective? And I love him. He’s a cocky lil asshole and I still scream over this line: “He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d been to score Mikasa. She’d transferred from Foreign Office around the same time he’d been given his double-oh designation, and not only was she incredibly efficient, but she was absolutely gorgeous. Jean had seen an awful lot of movies and TV shows; he knew how this went. Sooner or later his roguish charm and devil-may-care attitude would thaw her icy exterior and the sex would be mindblowing.” HELP. I”M SCREAMING. Also it has SUPER SEXY hairy Eren (because crunchy knows my kinks, shush).

The Beneficent Gentleman

hartwin, kingsman

An act of heroism sees an unusual offer made to one Eggsy Unwin; if he can get accepted he can go to Oxford, all expenses paid. All he has to do in return is pass his classes, and keep his mysterious benefactor informed as to his educational progress via the old-fashioned medium of the handwritten letter.

An AU loosely based on Daddy Long-Legs.

Reasons I like it: this is incredibly ambitious for a fic. It’s all in epistolary form aka letters. It’s quite an undertaking to write but the result makes it seem so effortless. Plus I like handsome benefactor from afar Harry. 

Season and Circumstance

hartwin, kingsman

Circumstance dictates that there must be a great distance between Eggsy Unwin and Lord Hart, but the seasons turn and bring them together, and seasons turn and pull them apart. Seasons always change. Circumstances must be acted on. A Regency AU.

Reasons I like it: Hartwin Regency AU? Need I say more? Also crunchy always writes the best frot scenes like…if you want quality frot, look no further than crunchy’s fics. 

Magic Does Not Make A Garden

ereri, snk

Levi grows his garden peacefully on the edge of the desert, until the day he finds a boy with wings dying of exhaustion and takes him in.

Reasons I like it: Fuck this fic makes me wistful and teary eyed and hopeful all at once. King of crunchy’s short fics by far. I think about this fic nonstop. It’s too short to spend time describing it, just read and be full of FEELINGS for the rest of the day.

A Bird in the Hand

ereri, snk

Little ever changes in the Underworld, and few visit, but the arrival of a single songbird foretells a coming change for both the Underworld and its god, Eren.

Spring is here.

Reasons I like it: Hades/Persephone AU!!!!!!!!! Except Levi is Persephone and likes to wrassle and is so full of life I love seeing him like this. Also crunchy describes Levi’s naked figure so beautifully in the water i started salivating and it was so powerful it inspired beautiful art of the heichou booty by syn (nsfw link).

The Hero Who Traveled To Faerie in Search of a Bride

yurabek, yoi

The king is dead and in accordance with the custom all worthy aspirants to the crown must set out in search of a bride deserving of the throne. For one soldier, distinguished in battle, it was not enough to seek a princess among the neighbouring kingdoms, because for many years his heart had pulled him towards the distant spires and violet hills of Faerie, a land forbidden to mortals, for so few return…

Reasons I like it: sexy elf otabek with long hair :O and brave knight yura. I love the descriptions of the four courts and Victor is so goddamn perfect. The world building is sublime and everything feels so lush and perfect. ayaaaa to visit the fae for a day… 

Under Neon Skies

sheith, voltron

After the battle with Zarkon Shiro finds himself in an alien city, on an alien planet. Here Zarkon rules triumphant, the Black Lion tame under his hand, and Shiro’s own face appears on glowing billboards fifty feet high to advertise the arena fights as their reigning champion.

Shiro knows he has to get home because his universe needs him, but this universe just might need him more. He pins his hopes on the Blade of Marmora and learns that in this reality, Keith did not grow up on Earth…

Written for the Sheith Big Bang 2017. Not season 3 compliant.

Reasons I like it: i got to beta this fic but honestly crunchy doesn’t need beta-ing at all hahaha so it was a real treat to see it before anyone else. I love the alternate universe and the way it’s described so perfectly. Everything feels truly alien and you can feel Shiro’s loneliness. T_T And I love raised with the Blade Keith. He’s extra feisty. Also bc the most recent season has confirmed that alternate realities exist this is canon and nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise.

The Garden of Wild Roses

allurivan, voltron

The galaxy might now be at peace, but Allura is not. A warrior without a war, a princess without a kingdom, she decides to tuck herself away for a while, take a well earned break and work out what to do with the rest of her life.

Earth is the obvious choice, the planet still coming to grips with a crowded universe but almost untouched by the recent war. Shiro organises a long holiday smoothly and swiftly, and it doesn’t occur to Allura to ask if she’s the only lonely alien he’s installed in the village of his childhood.

Reasons I like it: Okay i know, i picked 13, but that just goes to show you that i’m a liar. This fic has so many wonderful character analyses and I love how it shows Allura coming to grips with a war that has been won. And also I’m a slut for good pussy eating scenes what can I say. 

beneath

fandom: miraculous ladybug

summary: in the wake of a brush with death, it occurs to ladybug and chat noir that they should probably tell each other who they really are. and maybe confess their undying love. not necessarily in that order. one-shot.

genre: romance, fluff, and a pinch of angst

cross-posted: ao3

“I know I joke around a lot, Ladybug,” Chat said softly, and he lifted a hand to her cheek. “But I really care about you. You know that, right? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Although the gesture was awfully intimate, even for Chat, they’d both just come within an inch of their lives from dying slow, painful deaths in front of each other and possibly losing all of Paris in the process. After that, it only felt right. Marinette leaned into the smooth leather of his glove, warmed by his hand. It struck her, not for the first time, that there was a human boy underneath that suit, flesh and bone and blood and heart, just like her. Knowing this, or perhaps more accurately, understanding this, made the realization that he could have died not twenty seconds ago that much more painful.

Keep reading

Klance Angel/Demon AU

Have I mentioned this AU before?? I don’t think so. I honestly started writing it, but never got far. I do have so many ideas though so I thought I’d share them! It’s basically an urban fantasy, romeo-and-juliet-esque, action romance.

Characters:

  • Lance - Angel. ~1500 years old. He/him (it was turning into a tumblr bio i’m sorry). He’s a high ranking captain or commander of a part of the Angel’s military. Probably leads a smallish, specialised faction.Expert with anything ranged (he prefers the bow&arrow but can use guns etc as well if needed), though he’s not too shabby with a sword either. Wings are a pale blue ombre (nearly white at the top, to a borderline royal blue at the tips, though not quite as neatly coloured)
  • Keith - Demon. ~2000 yrs old. Incredibly good with a blade and hand-to-hand fighting. Definitely helped by general demon morphology. Is actually a demon prince, but he loathes it and tends to keep it hidden.
  • Hunk - Angel
  • Pidge - Angel (probably)
  • Shiro - ….Demon? I’m honestly not sure what to do with him. Maybe I’ll keep him an Angel or even a fallen angel? Like, he lives on the mortal plane….
  • Allura & Coran - Torn between them being Angels or another being altogether (Elder Gods thing)
  • Zarkon - Demon King
  • Lotor - A Demon Prince (Keith’s brother? half brother? is Keith adopted? who knows!)
  • Basically all the Galra are demons, okay?
  • Yes, including the Blades of Marmora but I hadn’t gotten that far - they’re probably Keith’s little rebel group or spy network or something
  • The Garrison are basically the Angel military - Iverson runs the border patrols that Lance has trouble slipping past when he goes to meet Keith

I was going to go into detail about Angel and Demon morphology, history & cultures, but honestly, if you want to know, ask me. I might have to make those separate posts cuz… well… this is going to get long…..

Notes:

  • Keith and Lance met on the mortal plane, possibly in a bar, and it didn’t quite click what the other was at first so they didn’t think much of it (they’re both drunk and have glamours on, ok? plus their avoiding their respective responsibilities)
  • Somehow they get tangled in each others lives and fall in love (I dunno I have ideas but nothing solid yet)
  • manage to keep their dating on the down low for about 100 years - they meet up every week or so in a pub or bar on the mortal plane - somewhere along the line they’ve managed to acquire a decent apartment/penthouse that they go back to for a night or two
  • Their meetings can never be long but they’ve learnt to deal and they make it work
  • Literally nobody knows about their relationship (or maybe Shiro knows…)
  • They know each other so well by this point - they trust each other completely and nothing can shake that faith
  • Lance doesn’t really get along with his superiors…. Angels are supposed to follow rules are live by strict laws, and Lance feels caged
  • I say urban fantasy, but like, humans don’t really know they exist - all Others (fae, angels, demons, nymphs, mermaids, etc etc etc, all use glamours from a very young age, esp if they live in the mortal realm)

Plot: (I’ll keep this short)

  • Lance has to cross over into the demon world to save some children that were kidnapped (like, Fawn children or something, or water nymph kids… i dunno. Their mum runs his fave cafe, ok? like I said, urban fantasy)
  • The rescue doesn’t quite go to plan - the kids get away but Lance gets a badly damaged wing in the scuffle and can’t run away, so he hides in an old shack
  • Keith was in the area and called in to help track this angel - He manages to find Lance first and promptly freaks out because they’re going to kill you moron! why are you here? holy fuck i can’t lose you
  • Lance comes up with a plan (revealing that he knew Keith was a prince but understood why he hid it) - Keith is going to take him prisoner, as an angel ‘pet’ until they can figure out how to get out of this safely
  • Keith is panicking because he can’t promise that he can keep Lance safe and keep up appearances (if he can’t, the both die), and Lance is putting his life completely in his hands
  • Lance also wants Keith to be the one to remove his wing (the sign of a captive angel) because he doesn’t want some other random demon to do it - Keith is very distressed because he doesn’t want to hurt Lance!
  • Anyway, so Lance becomes Keith’s angel pet/slave in the demon palace
  • They’re trying to figure out a way to escape
  • Meanwhile, Lance’s friends are planning a rescue
  • Chaos ensues.

I have so many more ideas for this, but that’s the general gist of it. Eventually it would lead to demon rebellion/civil war. Maybe an angel rebellion. I dunno. I’m also not sure where Allura and Coran fit in; they’re probably under threat from the Demon King or something. Or maybe Allura is the rightful Queen to the demon crown? Who knooowwsss… I certainly don’t. My main focus here was klance.