it was still in my drafts though so i thought i might as well post it now!

Five Second Rule

I was digging through my drafts folder and found this random, mostly finished little ficlet. So I polished it up and present you with some random Hannigram.

Hannibal greatly enjoyed the times when he got to linger in the bowels of the FBI as he was today, leaning over a lightly putrefied body with contained fascination as Jack’s forensic team fussed around him. Admittedly, much of that enjoyment came from the fact that Will was generally nearby and often endearingly vulnerable in this environment, but even when Jack dragged Will away to his office – which he had done just ten minutes ago – Hannibal still took great pleasure in the chance to brush up on his understanding of the FBI’s inner workings. Indeed, he had spent a very entertaining forty-five minutes discussing the use of turmeric in fingerprint identification with Mr Price, the knowledge of which already had Hannibal both rethinking his post-kill clean up routine and considering whether he had anything in his freezer that might work well in a curry. Something delicate and fragrant, to go with the flank of that appalling parking attendant from the previous week, who had been sadly lacking in either quality.

It was, therefore, with pleasant images of arranging his next tableau – something involving flowers, perhaps, for Will – thronging in his head that Hannibal followed behind Price, Zeller and Ms. Katz as they made their way to the break room, having decided that they would make no further progress in the case without “choking down a disgusting amount of sugar,” according to Ms. Katz. Hannibal had nowhere pressing to be, after all, and would happily wait the whole afternoon in order to see Will again once he was released from Jack’s clutches.

That thought might have given Hannibal pause on any other day. However, just at the moment it crossed his mind, he happened to witness the greatest atrocity of his life.

“Oops, butterfingers!” Ms Katz trilled, as a glazed, rainbow-sprinkled doughnut slipped her grasp and landed on the floor, sprinkles down. And then Hannibal watched in fascinated horror as she bent to retrieve the soiled pastry, blew on it and, shrugging, said the words that struck disgust into Hannibal’s very soul.

“Five second rule!”

And then she ate it.

Hannibal had to leave the room. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to vomit otherwise.

Will caught up with him later in his lecture hall, where Hannibal was restoring inner harmony by rearranging the library of his mind palace. He had developed his own shelving system – the Dewey Decimal was hardly up to scratch – and was replacing some volumes of poetry when the smell of aged paper was joined by the ever-welcome scent of Will’s presence. Hannibal opened his eyes to find the profiler regarding him with a mildly concerned expression, perhaps discomfited by Hannibal’s apparent lapse into a vegetative state. Hannibal had yet to introduce Will to his palace, though of course versions of him already resided in many of its rooms.

“Hello Will,” Hannibal said, assuming a placid and affable tone in order to reassure his friend that he was perfectly well.

Will, somewhat worryingly, was not fooled, his magnificent brows drawing together in concern. Hannibal automatically catalogued the expression for future commitment to paper. He would have to find several hours soon to do so: his mental file of unrecorded images of Will was becoming somewhat unwieldy. Perhaps one day he would be able to coax Will to pose for him in the flesh. Perhaps in nothing but the flesh, his beautiful form freed from all that frumpy, everyman plaid, the firm, strong plains of his muscles exposed for Hannibal’s perusal…

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Will asked, pulling Hannibal from his reverie, his tone brusque as ever but tinged with genuine care, the presence of which caused something to tighten painfully in Hannibal’s chest. He sighed and decided it could do no harm to inform Will of his friend’s unhygienic crassness. Will would likely brush it off as perfectly acceptable behaviour, causing a little tarnish to his appeal that Hannibal would be rather grateful of at that moment.

“Will, have you ever heard of something called the ‘Five Second Rule’?” Hannibal asked, unable to keep his mouth from twisting into a slight moue.

Will looked up at him in surprise and then slapped his hand across his eyes. “Please tell me Bev did not do that in front of you,” he groaned.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, amused by Will’s apparent embarrassment.

“I’m afraid to say she did,” he said, gently despite his stomach lurching slightly at the thought. “You do not approve?”

“Doctor, I live with a pack of dogs. Do you really think I would eat anything that had come into contact with my floor?” Will grinned and Hannibal’s breath hitched. “And I’m pretty certain I clean my floor more than most people, present company excluded.” Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat. “I keep telling Bev she needs to stop, it’s a really filthy habit.”

And then, well, there really was nothing for it but to close the gap between them and kiss Will, firm and sure and with just the slightest brush of tongue to really get the point across.

“Hannibal!” Will pulled back and Hannibal reflected ruefully that he would have preferred the first time Will addressed him by his first name not to have been with such shock in his tone.

“I must apologise, Will. That was not how I had planned…” he trailed off as Will’s eyes snapped up to his.

“Plan? What plan? There was a plan?” Will asked, his eyebrows threatening to detach completely from his head and rocket skywards.

Ah yes, the plan. The one in which Hannibal would – with the help of Will’s rapidly worsening encephalitis – break the empath, frame him and imprison him, to be kept under lock and key until the time might come when Hannibal wished to play with Will’s brain once more. The plan which, Hannibal now realised, he had not thought through with his usual precision, because it would be inconvenient to have to visit the BSHCI every time he wished to kiss Will. The plan which would now have to be abandoned completely because there was little… there was absolutely no chance Hannibal was not going to keep kissing Will, now that he had started. Kissing and, with any luck, much, much more. Assuming Will would let him, that is.

Will, who had pulled back but not out of Hannibal’s embrace.

Will, who was looking up at Hannibal from beneath those ridiculous, beautiful lashes.

Will, who was very definitely smirking and leaning in close to whisper in his doctor’s ear, “Well, Hannibal, it seems you don’t have a problem with all filthy things.”

And it was true because, as they soon found out, there were some things Hannibal was very happy to eat off the floor, even after they’d been there much longer than five seconds.


summary: in which no matter what, you refuse to love anyone else other than draco malfoy.

a/n: this has been in my drafts for ages and only now do i finally have the guts to post it! hope you enjoy it :-)

Masterlist + Request here!

When the whole school learned that the two of you were dating, saying that they were surprised by the news was an understatement. Well, who would expect that someone like him would fall for someone like you? Him, who was practically considered as the Slytherin Prince, while you, who was a fierce yet sweet Y/H.

Yep, you were a Y/H. Not to mention that you were a half-blood too.

Honestly, some people would still look at the two of you like you were aliens. They gawked and weren’t even hiding the fact that they did — it sometimes drove you nuts. Draco, on the other hand, would smile smugly and place an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side while his eyes lingered on those boys who would look at you differently.

Some first years who had crushes on your boyfriend would either sigh or squel whenever you walked passed them with Draco beside you, his hands holding your books for you even though you already told him not to. The said students would wish that they were in your position, while some rooted for the two of you.

You see, you and Draco had a lot of differences. One of them was the obvious; having two different houses. He was considered as the bad boy, you were considered as the good girl; he came from a rich and well known family, you came from muggles who weren’t rich nor poor; he had these gray eyes, you had y/e/c; and he was mostly hated, you were mostly loved.

That’s why when the news spread, Hermione had to make you repeat your sentence over and over again just to be sure she was hearing it right.

“Wait, so you’re dating the Draco Malfoy?” she exclaimed with wide eyes.

You simply nodded and carried on eating. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, right? What was wrong about dating him? You, out of all the people, of course did know what they thought of Draco Malfoy — the rich snob, the bully, the jerk, the son of Lucius Malfoy who was once a follower of Voldemort, and the Slytherin who hated Harry Potter.

You weren’t oblivious to those facts, but the people didn’t know how loving and caring Draco was. You fell in love with him because one time when you were running late to class and accidentally knocked him down, he was the one who apologized and picked up your books. When he saw you crying one time alone at the top of the cliff, he offered his ears to you and listened as you poured your heart out. And when he saw you inside the library, studying a lesson that you couldn’t understand, Draco sat by your side, teaching you even though you didn’t ask for help.

So when he suddenly asked you if you wanted to come with him at Hogsmeade the next weekend, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. He was more than pleased by your answer, of course, and even said that: “You won’t regret it, Y/N.”, in which you replied with a roll of your eyes.

But what entertained most of the student body about your relationship is that you are both players for your houses’ Quidditch team. Draco Malfoy was the Slytherin Seeker, while you were one of the Y/N Chasers. They found it entertaining whenever you were already on the field and Draco purposely annoys you by suddenly flying past your way in incredible speed. Sometimes you would get revenge by throwing the Quaffle in his direction when a teammate was behind him.

Your teammates were more than annoyed whenever Y/H was going up against Slytherin because of this.

“Y/L/N!” the captain of your team would yell in a high pitched voice as you crossed the three hoops. “Focus, will you? And stop messing with Malfoy!”

But you would just laugh and fly away from him, in deep pursuit for the quaffle once again.

Though just like any other relationships, you and Draco had your downfalls. The thing you two most fought about is how he always insults muggles and muggleborn students, calling them mudblood or calling the pure bloods who liked the said students blood traitors. You would always hit him in the stomach or arm whenever he sneers at Harry Potter or throw an unpleasant remark towards Hermione and Ron. Draco would just look at you then, rolling his eyes and muttering several curses under his breath that drove you to be even angrier than before.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that you preferred to be with Potter than your boyfriend!” he once yelled in an argument, his tone full of jealousy.

With that line, you just closed your eyes and sighed.

You always knew Draco had some deep insecurities about Harry Potter, and if you say something that might sound like you do prefer him over Draco, you knew you would regret it afterwards.

So to cause no more drama, you would suddenly pull him in a tight hug, in which he would always bury his head on your shoulder, stroking his blonde hair as you both murmur a bunch of “sorry’s” to each other.

And that’s why you loved each other dearly. No matter how much of a jerk Draco Malfoy might be, if you could have any person to love over and over again, you would definitely, no doubt in your mind, pick him.

Here’s a fic based on the first part of this post w/ College AU klance, Lance sick and stranded at the airport, and Keith knowing what caretaking is.

For Lance, bad news comes in the form of a woman’s voice, calmly notifying the lobby full of passengers that their flight to Michigan has been delayed for five hours due to severe weather conditions. His stomach drops. Uncomfortable dread washes over him. He can’t take another five hours in the airport, he just can’t.

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More Reibert Headcanons!

These have been hanging out in my drafts for a while, so I figured with season 2 and all I should post them! (these are also to continue off of my last post)

  • Reiner loves sending Bertholdt Snapchats… of everything. Selfies, everyday life, cute animals, food, literally everything. He just gets excited about things and wants to share his fun with his boyfriend. Bert thinks this is adorable though and appreciates that Reiner thinks of him so much. Surprisingly, he’ll often respond with his own - Reiner is pretty much the only person he’ll send snaps to.
  • They both think the other’s eyes are the most beautiful they’ve ever seen.
  • The TV is ALWAYS on during football season. Reiner keeps up with as many teams as he can and often has friends over to watch games with him. Bert might join for a bit, but he's​ usually happier to hang out in his room by himself. Reiner is always sure to check in with him every so often and bring him snacks and kisses.
  • Basketball season, however, is something they enjoy together. Date nights include going out to watch games downtown as well as just staying in, ordering takeout, and yelling at the TV from their couch. They’ll also set up brackets every year for friendly competition (Bert always wins though).
  • They’ve gotten so used to cuddling with each other before they fall asleep that when one is gone, the other now needs a pillow or something soft to hug to sleep. Reiner once caught Bertholdt​ napping with his sweatshirt, but he thought it was adorable and stole Bert’s pillow to snuggle with the next week.
  • Sometimes Bert can be a little forgetful when it comes to taking care of himself, but thankfully Reiner is always there to make sure he sleeps, eats, and takes his meds.
  • Bertholdt gives the best massages. Reiner loves coming home after a busy day, lying down on the bed, and letting his boyfriend rub all the tension out of his shoulders and back. He practically melts to a puddle, and more often than not he’s so relaxed that he’ll fall asleep.
  • If Reiner’s annoying him, Bert will withhold kisses simply by tilting his head up. Reiner hates this. A wrestling match usually ensues.
  • Although sometimes they switch, Bert is usually the big spoon for cuddling. Their bodies fit together nicely… and that way Reiner can grab Bert’s arms and keep him from moving around so much when he sleeps.
  • Despite the confidence he radiates, Reiner will still occasionally need a bit of validation from Bert. He sometimes worries that he’s not doing a good enough job as a boyfriend, even though he pours so much time and energy into the relationship. Above all else, he just wants Bert to be happy. But all it takes are some gentle words of reassurance and sweet kisses from Bert, and suddenly all of Reiner’s fears are gone and replaced with even more love for his boyfriend~

anonymous asked:

Hey there! Not sure if you've already talked about this, but I was wondering what you think about Lestat's singing voice? I personally always thought of him as having an almost Bowie sounding voice but with the energy and range of Brendon Urie from Panic at the disco. Idk if you've heard the song Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! but that song is kinda how I think Lestat would sound- I think he'd have a kick ass falsetto voice. Also Ave Cesaria by Stromae is a good example in terms of French music

Hello hello~~~ This post got very long! It’s a big question!

I guess I haven’t talked about Lestat’s singing voice bc I can’t find it, but YES, #headcanon accepted, Lestat would have a kick ass falsetto voice! 

I just drafted this post and it’s too long, so much more can be written and more vids could have been featured, but I’ve spen

The short answer: As with Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is music in the ear of the beholder, and your idea of Lestat’s voice is as valid as anyone else’s. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 

I’m gonna offer a few responses on this, from AR, from canon, from a mutual VC fan friend of mine, and then respond to your suggestions. I had to make a cut bc the post was getting long.

SO, AR has said, on several occasions, that Bon Jovi was a big influence on Prince Lestat. She even dedicated Prince Lestat to Bon Jovi (as one of her muses). [X]

I also seem to recall Lestat mentioning a love for Bruce Springsteen in canon, but that might have been fanon. In QOTD, Baby Jenks says Lestat sings like the Boss:

Baby Jenks did love the Vampire Lestat’s music,… Yes sir, that was the one she loved… It wasn’t the words that got to her, it was the way he sang it, groaning like Bruce Springsteen into the mike and making it just break your heart.

I’m on Fire, the lyrics and the way he sings it, seem very Lestatuesque to me. Try Dancing in the Dark, also very Lestatuesque to me…

Thanks @sanguinivora​ for linking me to this Vulture interview (12/1/2010)! AR answers the question:

What do you think Lestat’s band would sound like now?

Well, it always sounded to me like Jim Morrison. That was the band I based it on — Jim Morrison’s voice, physical beauty, and the sound of that band in a song like “L.A. Woman.” That’s how I imagined Lestat’s band sounding. I don’t know a lot about rock music right at this moment; I haven’t listened to a stadium band in a while. I don’t know the latest stuff. I really don’t know. The main thing in emphasizing Morrison is that I’m emphasizing hard rock. It’s really acid rock. It’s not lightweight rock music and there has to be a good voice at the helm. Morrison had an exceptionally good voice for a rock singer. But modernizing it? Sure, whatever. Bring it on.

Hit the jump for more, cut for length

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(B)romance in the NHL

Summary: A viral article about Kent and Tater’s bromance sparks some confessions.
Word Count: 3,700
Rating: G

The music skips with an incoming text that Alexei ignores as he mixes his smoothie and hums along. Once he adds the last chunk of banana he slips the lid on the blender and turns it on. A few moments later he turns it off and the silence is jarring. Alexei walks over towards where his phone is laying on the counter, hoping his battery hasn’t died yet again. His phone has been on the last leg of life for a couple weeks now, but he’s too attached to it to change it in for a new one, no matter how much the rookies tease him. 

Alexei picks up the phone. It isn’t dead. It buzzes incessantly in his hand as 20 messages turned to thirty with three missed calls and several voicemails. Alexei swipes in his password and scrolls down the list of names until he reaches the first message. It’s from Kent. The first is a link with three messages in quick succession after.  

Kent (8:57 am): I didn’t even notice them take this 
 Kent (8:57 am): It makes us look kind of gay… don’t you think?
Kent (8:58 am): Okay yeah other ppl think it’s hella gay too wtf 

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#1 Auston Matthews [Part 5]

Hey do you know when you’ll post the fourth part for the Auston one? (Is that even planned? If not please do it. You can do literally everything I’m so hooked! (((Maaaybe with Laine as a guest so it all comes full circle))))

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4



Song suggestion of the day:

Originally posted by paraelresto

“Did you talk to him?” 

You glanced across at Auston from your spot wedged between Morgan Rielly and Mitch. 

You shrugged. “Kind of. He’s not really my type.”

Before things had gone to shit, Auston (or at least one of the guys) would have asked you who your type was and waggled his eyebrows at you. He knew exactly who your type was, and it was Auston Matthews. There was a stiff sort of pause that followed in the wake of your words. Weirdly, you’d found that you and Auston had become inexplicably close now that you’d sort of straightened things out. It was all kind of unspoken. Once you’d discovered that you liked each other, all the odd things about him sort of fell into place.That didn’t prevent moments like these though. 

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I'll post this on ao3 later

I didn’t make the plot line up! The idea goes to the respected creator I just took my own spin on it.

Betty happily crept up the stairs and slowly opened Veronica’s bedroom door. It was dark, she could see the outline of the raven haired girl lying down. She tip toed over to the bed and slid next to her, placing a hand on the smaller girls waist.
“Hey love bug!” Betty kissed the tip of her nose. Veronica looked indifferent through the moon light and turned away from her girlfriend.
“Please go away…” she mumbled through her pillow. Betty’s heart sunk, she scooted closer trying to nuzzle the neck of the other girl.
“Woah what’s wrong?” Betty backed off and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Nothing. I just want to be alone. Now go away.”
“V, you never want to be alone. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” Betty tried to lace her fingers with Veronica’s but she pulled her hand away. “Veronica ple-”
“You weren’t there…” Veronica interrupted.
“I wasn’t where?” Veronica turned back to face the blonde girl.
“The variety show.”
“…oh… OH! Veronica I’m so sorry I got so carried away with the inv-”
“The investigation. I know… I smell his cologne on you…” Betty was quiet. “I don’t even have to hear the story. Let me guess, he kissed you?” Betty remained silent, her heart sinking more and more with every second. “Listen, I get you aren’t out to your parents or anyone else. But that doesn’t mean you can go around letting people kiss you to avoid suspicion. You have to still be loyal to me. To us… I can’t do this if this is what you’re going to be like.” Betty felt like she was hit with a truck
“V, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it. I want to be alone. Goodbye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Betty saw Veronica’s eyes fill with tears and she silently got up and head to the door.
“I’m going to make this right V. I promise.” Betty took one last look at the dark figure before walking out, her throat closing up, and her heart breaking.
Veronica hugged her pillow close. Her mind racing at a million miles a minute. She hugged her pillow close and let the tears fall out. Before she met Betty, she didn’t believe in committed relationships. Everything was temporary. But Betty felt permanent. At least, she thought Betty felt permanent.
The next day wasn’t easy for either of the girls. Veronica awoke to her eyes feeling heavy, probably from all the crying done the night prior. Betty awoke to crescent shaped cuts in the palm of her hands. Usually it was Veronica that kept her away from doing that, but she felt as if she’d lost her.
Betty arrived to school earlier than she normally does, just to get a little extra alone time. It was perfectly silent other than the scratch of her pencil on a rough draft of a Blue and Gold article she’d been working on when the last person on earth she wanted to see came in the room.
“Hola Bets!” Jughead Jones the third slid in and sat on the desk she was currently trying to work on.
“What.” She responded in a slightly annoyed tone, Jughead continued on talking as if he didn’t even get the hint that she wanted to be left alone, she didn’t even hear a single word of what he said until the end when he asked
“Would you like to go out sometime? Just me and you?” He didn’t seem nervous at all. He looked like he was expecting her to say yes. But she lost it.
“No! Jughead no. Actually you kind of ruined this thing I had going with someone else. Someone I’ve been falling for now won’t talk to me. Because you kissed me. Jughead I am a FLAMING lesbian.” Betty stood up and paced back and forth rubbing her temples, preparing for the disappointment in Jugheads response. But there was none. Instead, this damn white boy started LAUGHING. Betty stopped pacing and turned to stare at him. He had to calm down for a second before he could start talking.
“Thank fucking GOD you realized that. I didn’t think I could handle the whole kissing Betty cooper until she realized she was a lesbian. Who did you have a thing with? I feel slightly bad now and want to help fix it.” Betty took a large swallow and kicked at the ground. She didn’t even have to answer.
“Oh fuck dude was it Veronica?! I didn’t accidentally tear up Bonnie and Clyde? Mom and Dad? Romeo and Juliet?” Betty still didn’t answer. “Ah damn I’m a moron. Well, I guess it’s my job to fix it up.” Jughead hopped off the desk and paced around Betty.
“You have a car right?”
Veronica arrived to school in less extravagant clothing than usual. She wasn’t wearing her iconic dark lipstick, or the sassy smirk that seemed to have permanent residency on her lips. She walked with less pep in her step, and more of a long drag. As she approached her locker, all she could think about was how much she wished she hadn’t left New York. The locker door creaked open and a neatly folded slip of paper fell into her hands. Before she could even open it, Kevin slid next to her.
“As the towns certified gay I must do my duty and formerly apologize for the feelings you are experiencing at the moment.” He said holding his chin high
“And what might those feelings be? Walk me to class Keller.” They turned and walked towards the west wing.
“The feeling of being straight blocked. The feeling of falling for a heterosexual human being. It’s tough.” He said sincerely.
“That’s the thing though Kevin. She’s not straight! I know she’s not! All the sleepovers, all the times me and her ‘went to the bathroom’ together, all the times we told you and the other guys 'we’d catch up’, what did you think we were doing?” Veronica gripped her book so hard her knuckles began to turn white. Kevin thought for a moment and went pale.
“Oh my… you, and Betty-”
“And you, did-”
“And she-”
“YES, honestly I thought you had a gaydar?!” Veronica exclaimed rolling her eyes, she slipped into her geometry class leaving Kevin behind in the hallway. Baffled.
When Veronica sat down she remembered the slip of paper from her locker. She unfolded it and looked at the message written inside
Please meet me at the old drive in after
school today. If you don’t I understand,
but I need to see you
Veronica didn’t want to go. She wanted to ignore Betty. But there was something about that damn girls cursive handwriting and the way she signed her name with a heart that made Veronica’s insides squirm.
They managed to avoid each other all day. Veronica skipped lunch and hung out with Ethel in the library instead. And after school, when Betty usually picks up Veronica and they go to sweet water river for some… activities. Veronica just walked instead. She saw Betty’s car in the drive in parking area and wandered over to it. Her heart pounding out of her chest. Betty was leaning against the hood, wearing a white t-shirt and that baseball cap she knew made Veronica weak in the knees. Betty turned and grinned at the sight of the girl.
“Hey!” Betty looked the girl up and down.
“What is it?” Veronica said not even returning the greeting. Betty took a few steps towards Veronica and looked deep into her eyes.
“Veronica, I’m sorry. I’m not going to make excuses for what I did and what I let happen. You don’t even have to know the whole story because it still hurt you. Honey, you are by far the most important person in my life. Even just today without seeing you made me so much more irritable. I missed you and it hasn’t even been 24 hours. I don’t even know why I thought what did would be okay” Veronica couldn’t help but get lost in the green eyes in front of her. She glanced down at Betty’s hands and saw the marks on her palms.
“Are those from me?” She asked quietly motioning to her hands. Betty frantically shoved her hands in her pockets.
“No! No. They’re not because of you. It’s just- nerves,” Betty lied and shot her a smile. But Veronica didn’t buy it. Her breath hitched in her throat at the thought of Betty clawing at herself because of her. “Listen, V, if you don’t forgive me. I get it. You can never talk to me again-” Veronica cut her off by placing her lips on hers. Betty pulled her hands out of her pockets and placed them on the small of Veronica’s back, puffing air lightly out of her nose that made Veronica’s lips tingle. They pulled away reluctantly.
“Please just tell me you won’t go around kissing guys to hide your sexuality.” Veronica bopped Betty’s nose with her pointer finger which caused Betty to scrunch her face up.
“I promise I won’t. And I can’t prove it.” Betty pulled away and travelled to the back of her truck, there was some sort of cloth folded up in the back. Betty grabbed it and unfolded it in one swift movement.
It was a very sloppy looking handmade flag that had
“I’m in love with Veronica Lodge” written in sharpie. It was very clearly written in Jugheads handwriting. Betty smiled and quickly duck taped it to the back window of her truck.
“You are such a dork.” Veronica laughed crossing her arms.
“That may be true but I’m your dork and you love me.”

What Idiots - Mitch Marner Imagine

One with Mitch Marner you’re hanging out with Auston Matthews and he’s the third wheel?

Originally posted by wonthetrade

So I’m not sure on how I feel about this one. I tried to make it alright but I guess I just wasn’t feeling it. I actually almost deleted this but I decided I might as well try to post and see how it does! Also woah this was my first request out of nine in the past like what two days??? Anyway even though I hate it I hope you like it! -Accius

Your name: submit What is this?

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Title: A Letter to Jake McKenzie (An Officer McKenzie fic, Slight JakexMC)

Follow along the audio post by reading Rebecca McKenzie’s letter here

Characters: Officer Rebecca McKenzie, Jake McKenzie, M/C
Word Count:
Rebecca thought he was out of her life for sure.  It’s been far too long.  Since he disappeared, she has mourned, stored away the memories, and moved on with her lifeThat is, until a glimmer of hope resurfaced into her life, reviving her determination to search for Jake again. 

Author’s Note:
The soundcloud audio and visual of the letter are just ADDITIONAL COMPONENTS!  You can still enjoy the fic without reading the letter or listening to Rebecca’s audio post.  The letter is in the story, just separated in chunks between Rebecca’s memories.  I just got really into this story so added a lil something extra. 

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Made with SoundCloud
More Than Enough

Hello lovelies!
So I’ve never posted anything here before, but I wanted to give it a shot. Very nerve-wracking but I’d really appreciate feedback from the community! Hope you all like it!

What happens when Jughead discovers a secret that Betty has been keeping? What would have been a blissful Sunday afternoon is potentially ruined when he confronts her about it, or is it? Could something greater come from the Pandora’s box that Jughead is about to open up? Bughead One-shot.


“Hey Betts, your phone is ringing!” Jughead called out from the desk in the Blue and Gold headquarters. It was an office first and foremost, but they had come to calling it their headquarters until their investigation was completed.

It was Sunday afternoon and both teenagers were exhausted. The duo were working on another piece about Jason Blossom, and had spent the better part of their weekend cooped up together in the office with empty takeout cartons scattered around them. Betty was on the couch, editing yet again their rough draft with a red pen twirling in her hand. 

“Just ignore it. It might be my mom and I definitely don’t want to speak to her right now”. 

Shaking her head, she refused to speak to her mom after their discoveries at Jason’s funeral. Not only did they stop her from seeing Polly, they hid something as important as an engagement  from her. Realizing that she could no longer focus on her work, she stood up from the couch and stretched her arms over her head, groaning in satisfaction as she felt her spine crack. 

Jughead looked up at the sound of Betty groaning and stared, hypnotized by his blonde friend. Her stretch caused her shirt to ride up over her midriff, showing smooth pale skin and Jughead could feel a telltale blush making its way up his neck to his face. She had undone her usual ponytail earlier and he was still unaccustomed to seeing her full, blonde hair loose, curling around her shoulders. Who knew that just a simple work session could make him feel so frustrated. She’s his best friend, he shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Clearing his throat and looking back down at his laptop, he tried to concentrate on the article but was unable to do so with the blonde beauty sitting next to him. 

Betty’s cellphone ringing again shook Jughead out of his thoughts. Reaching into her schoolbag, he pulled out her phone and went to decline the call like he had done millions of times before. His friendship with Betty wasn’t quite the same as she and Archie used to be but theirs was a stronger, more intense one.

 There were no flitting feelings between the two of them, and that allowed a closer camaraderie to develop. Theirs was more intense. It was inevitable, trying to solve a murder with someone did end up bringing you close together. They finished each others sentences, they answered each others phones, spent their weekends together at the Blue and Gold, and surprisingly enough, the Coopers didn’t hate Jughead the way they did Archie. 

Betty was a good influence on Jughead, they said. She got him into doing his homework, joining an extracurricular activity and broke through that sardonic, sarcastic armour he’d donned so early on in life. They weren’t crazy about their daughter being out at all hours of the night, but due to the ongoing drama with Veronica and Archie, they preferred that she spent her time with fellow aspiring journalists and writers like Jughead. 

With Archie, she felt this pressure. This constant need to be the ‘golden girl’. She had to be perfect if she wanted to be good enough to be his girlfriend, she had to always look perfect, sound perfect, be perfect. She was always so careful, so exact in everything she did because of how she felt about him, scared that even the smallest slip could ruin everything she had worked so hard for. Ultimately, that was what ruined it all in the end. He didn’t want her because she was ‘too perfect’ and he felt like he wasn’t good enough for her. 

He was her best friend, she had imagined a future with him, she had grown up picturing a picket-fence house with kids running around. She hadn’t ever pictured anything else and having to accept that none of that would happen was one of the hardest things. She thought it was normal to be honest. She genuinely thought that being in love with someone meant that she felt the way she did. She thought that she felt safest and most herself when she was with him, in a booth at Pops. Turns out that she was wrong, and Forsythe Pendleton Jones III was the one to prove it.

Trying to get a grip on everything, she had started taking her adderall again. She had stopped taking it at the beginning of the semester, wanting to see what would happen to her school and life if she didn’t drug herself. She had managed well, her grades hadn’t slipped but then she lost control of everything with Archie and couldn’t make heads or tails of anything anymore. That loss of control, that feeling of 4 walls closing in on her again-the way it had so many times before-she didn’t know how to maintain control and fell back into the habit she worked so hard to break. 

Betty made her way to the chair next to her friend and sat down, laying her head on his shoulder while he typed. There was something relaxing about being near Jughead. She didn’t have to make sure that her hair was perfect, that her clothes were ironed, that she was wearing makeup. None of that mattered to him. He made her feel at ease, as though she didn’t have to be the perfectionist her parents so often expect of her. She could say whatever she wanted, without being worried about hurting anyone’s feelings. He made her feel peaceful, and in light of everything else going on, it was exactly what she needed. She didn’t think about the fact that she was back on prescription medication to get through 8 hours of school each day, or that her institutionalized sister was engaged to the now officially dead high school quarterback. 

It’s the weirdest feeling, really. He was her best friend and he made her feel ways that Archie never did. Being around Jughead soothed her inner demons, eased all her fears. He helped in ways she could never even begin to explain to him, and in the last few weeks, he had become one of her most important people. She couldn’t have imagined going through any of this with anyone else. She couldn’t imagine not having him in her life at this point. She texted him at all hours of the day and he was always willing to talk about whatever she was thinking of. She had witnessed him grow from the little boy with a long nose to an older, taller man who was willing to do anything for his friends. 

Looking up at the man sitting next to her, she let out a sigh of contentment. ‘He really is attractive’ she thought. From his dark unruly hair, to his piercing green eyes, he was certainly more attractive than people realized. She reached up to brush some hair off his neck but caught herself mid-act. Shocking herself out of her reverie, she stood up abruptly.

Jughead turned to look at the now flustered blonde. “Betts? Are you okay?” He began to get up from his chair to take a step closer to her but she shook her head. 

“No, no. I’m fine. Just, uh, gonna clean up the mess we made this weekend and bring it to the recycling outside.” Betty began scurrying around the office, picking up all the empty cartons and piling them into a recycling box. 

Jughead just stared at her. When she had put her head on his shoulder, he froze. He didn’t know what to do and she hadn’t realized that he was looking at her through the reflection of the laptop. She sure was acting weird today. She was looking at him the way she used to look at Archie-not that he minded of course. 

He was sure that there was something more between them, something electrifying. He just didn’t know what to do about it, or how to get around to bringing it up. He had just reconciled with Archie and he wasn’t sure that the redhead would react very well to the news of him and Betty together. Not that they were together, but Jughead was sure that to a certain extent, Archie did have feelings for Betty.

Betty had finally picked up everything and was heading the door now to drop off the recycling. While Principal Weatherbee didn’t mind that they used the office on weekends, they had promised that they wouldn’t make a mess of it. As soon as Betty left the room, her phone started ringing again. 

Frustrated and grateful for the distraction it provided, Jughead reached his hand into Betty’s school bag, not quite paying attention to what he was doing. Digging around, he found the offending device but as he went to grab it, he heard the telltale jiggle of a pill bottle. Stopping at that noise, Jughead finally looked down at what he was doing and saw that there was in fact a prescription bottle at the bottom of Betty’s bag. Praying that she wouldn’t walk in right now, he pulled it out and read the prescription.


Betty struggled to carry the giant green bin to the recycling room. The school had a designated closet that connected to a chute outside. This way students could bring their recycling and not have to worry about going outside during the cold season. 

‘How much food did we eat this weekend?’ she mused, looking into the bin. ‘Then again, it is Jughead that we’re talking about’. Giggling, she made her way down the hall. While she didn’t mind the trek, it was across the school from the Blue and Gold, so she had quite a bit of time to herself. 

Betty repositioned the bin and her thoughts strayed back to the dark haired boy in the office. She was sure that she hadn’t imagined what happened before. Back before Jason’s funeral, Betty and Jughead had a moment in her bedroom, they had locked eyes and it was intense, but they hadn’t mentioned it since. This was all getting to be a fine mess. Two weeks ago she would have told you that she was madly in love with Archie Andrews, and today she’s thinking about how attractive Jughead Jones is. She was sure that her feelings went beyond those of a platonic friendship but she didn’t want to push it just in case things didn’t work out. She struggled enough losing Archie, but to lose Jughead would push her over the edge. Betty contemplated the idea of asking Jughead out for dinner that night but then thought against it. She’d only do that if something as crazy as them kissing were to happen.

“Well, crazy does run in our family.” Betty whispered as she opened the closet door and emptied the bin into the recycling chute. Shaking it a few times to make sure that she got it all, she closed the closet door and began to make her way back to the office. There was a slight kick to her step, feeling lighter than she had in weeks and it was all thanks to Jughead Jones. 

Walking down the hall, Betty was unaware of the storm brewing within the man in question who was waiting for her in the office.


Jughead placed the pill bottle down on the now cleared desk, and sat down on the edge of the desk that was facing the door. He had braced his hands on either side of him and waited for Betty, trying to look as casual as possible. Seeing her reflection in the glass window, he straightened his spine a little and decided to cross his arms across his chest at the last minute. 

Betty smiled at Jughead as soon as she walked into the room, and he faltered a little bit. She looked so happy, did he really want to do this? Did he really want to have this conversation with her?

Betty went to the corner of the office to put away the recycling and decided that opening a window would allow the office to get some nice fresh air. As much as she loved the room, it was starting to smell a bit stale in here. Clearing his throat, Jughead took a deep breath. 

“Tell me Betty, have you had ADHD for a while?” 

“What? Of course I don’t have ADHD Juggie! What kind of a silly question is that?” She looked back at him as she opened the window and smiled, pulling that silly face he had come to adore. Refusing to falter again, he glowered at her. Once the window was fully opened and secured, she looked back at her best friend and realized that he wasn’t laughing.

“Then maybe you’d like to explain why you have a prescription for adderall in your school bag?” He held up the bottle in question, with the name Elizabeth Cooper written clearly in block letters.

Betty covered her mouth, she didn’t quite know what to tell him. This was something she hadn’t told anyone. Sure Jughead was her best friend, but she was entitled to her secrets every now and then, wasn’t she? She didn’t have to tell someone every little secret she ever had. 

“Betty, are you taking these? Are you knowingly drugging yourself to get ahead in school?” He shook the bottle in front of her, cruelly. He thought she was better than that. He thought she was above medicating herself just to be the best. Tears began forming in Betty’s eyes at the accusations and while he felt disgusted with himself, he needed to know.

“No! Jughead, you don’t understand!” Betty cried and reached out to grab the bottle from him, but he kept it just out of reach. She held her hands together in front of her chest.

“Then make me understand. I’d like to know just why you think this is okay?” He held firm in his convictions, trying to get her to explain, to try and justify just why she thought she needed drugs like this.

“It’s not me! It’s .. Oh Juggie!” Never one to be hysterical, Betty covered her face with her hands as she cried. Jughead was taken aback by the sudden emotion from his best friend and put down the pill bottle. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her while she cried.

“Betty … What’s going on? Are you sick? Do you need help?” He asked as gently as possible. He rubbed her back while she cried into his shoulder.

“I’m not Polly! I’m not crazy! I swear!” She sobbed almost hysterically. Jughead kept whispering gently, trying to calm her down enough that she could piece together a coherent sentence. This in turn, only made her cry harder and it was as though he’d broken through a dam of emotions she’d kept together for so long. 

He brought her to the couch while she kept crying, trying to find a way to ease through her pain, and his guilt for starting this. Sitting her down, he kept comforting her and eventually her crying slowed.

“Feeling a bit better?” He asked gently, as though he was afraid that she’d start crying all over again. Betty nodded and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“After Polly was… sent away, my parents didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know how to react. I had stopped eating, stopped sleeping, wasn’t studying. My mother didn’t know what to do so she started looking up ways to help me study, and found out about adderall. She convinced a doctor to give me a prescription and for the last year, I’ve been taking it to get through school.” 

She looked down at her hands, ashamed. “I tried stopping Juggie, I did. I hid the bottle from her, kept it with me at all times, anything to get her to forget about it. It worked until Veronica came to town. She started micro-managing my life again and kept pushing me to take the pills. I didn’t want to, I swear Jughead. I didn’t want to.” At the last sentence, her voice cracked and Jughead felt compelled to pull her to his chest again and just hold her. 

“God, Betty. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that it was your mom making you take them. I’m so sorry”. He kept his arms around her, relishing in the feel. ‘Get it together Jughead. She’s crying for god’s sake’. Mental battle unbeknownst to Betty, Jughead sat there with her for what felt like forever. 

“Okay here. Let’s do this then” and with that, Jughead got up and threw the pills into the garbage. “No more of that, okay Betty?” He sat back down next to her on the couch. 

“Juggie… Is it me? Am I too much?” She looked up at him with her big blue eyes and he didn’t know what to say. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder again and felt her lean her head on his chest. Opening his mouth to respond, she surprisingly continued.

“I tried so hard to be perfect for everyone, for my mom, my dad, the teachers, for Archie. I just felt like if I was perfect, everyone would be okay. I thought that if I was good enough, perfect enough, Archie would have loved me back.” Sitting up, she disentangled herself from Jughead and leaned forward, bracing her arms onto her knees and lay her chin on her clasped hands.

“I mean, I get it now. I know that I can’t be perfect and that I don’t actually love Archie the way I thought I did. I just felt like my problems disappeared when he was there. It wasn’t actually love. I was just reflecting the feelings I wanted from my parents onto the boy I’d known for years. I just thought that if I tried enough, if I was good enough that someone would love me.” Taking in a shuddering breath, Betty hadn’t anticipated such a heavy conversation on such a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

“Betty … Betts. You are good enough. If Archie is too blind to notice it, how is it your fault? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re wonderful, and so smart and so beautiful. You don’t know how amazing you are because you’ve spent so much time letting people tear you down.” Scooting to the edge of the sofa they were on, he grabbed her hands and held them in his, looking her in the eye. 

Betty looked down at their hands then looked back up at Jughead. He was still looking at her, eyes searching for her face for something. She didn’t quite know what, but she felt compelled to say something. Opening her mouth, she licked her lips, about to speak when she noticed that his eyes immediately dropped to her lips and very slowly lifted back up to her eyes. 

Feeling her face flush, Betty was almost sure that whatever he felt for her, it was somewhat similar to the thoughts she’d been battling all day. Lifting her left hand, she cupped his cheek gently. She had never noticed just how soft his lips looked before, so full, and pink, and smooth. Leaning in, her eyes locked on his. She was so scared that something would ruin this moment. She was so close to him that she could feel his breath on her skin. She felt him cradle the back of her head with his hand, fingers tangled in her hair and closed her eyes. 

She wasn’t quite sure what was happening. The atmosphere in the room was charged, there was so much tension between the two. She held her breath, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers. She couldn’t believe that it was Jughead of all people, yet nothing felt more right. In retrospect, he made her feel things that no one else has. Is she really surprised that she’s so eager to kiss him?

She felt him brush his lips against hers, gently at first. She pressed against his cheeks with both hands, willing him to kiss her harder. With a groan muffled by Betty’s mouth, he wrapped his free arm around Betty’s waist and pulled her flush against him. He slanted his mouth over hers, and grabbed a handful of her hair  while the other hand snuck down and lifted her into his lap. Betty, now sitting on his lap, had a leg on each side of him. She moved both hands to curl into his hair, causing his beanie to fall off. He kissed her as though he was a man dying of thirst and she was an ocean that lay ahead of him. His hands rubbed her back, one sitting at her waist and the other lay itself quite happily on her behind. He felt himself drowning in the kiss, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that this was Betty Cooper, his closest friend. 

Betty let out a sigh of contentment when they pulled away and she looked at him. He was flushed, breathing heavily and his beanie was somewhere over the other side of the couch. He never looked better. Leaning down, she brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss.

“Well … That was something else” Jughead usually tried to sound at least a little eloquent but even this was beyond him. Betty was still sitting quite comfortably on his lap, with no intention of moving any time soon. She giggled at his expression and he couldn’t help but feel proud of her appearance. Not only was she smiling, but she looked like someone that had just finished thoroughly making out with someone. Hair mussed, lips swollen and a telltale flush from her cheeks all the way to her neck. 

Betty let her hand play with the hair at the nape of his neck. She wasn’t quite sure what was making her act so forward, but for once she wanted to go on instinct. This felt right, more than anything else she had done and Jughead didn’t seem to be running away from her any time soon. 

“Maybe we could make this a reoccurring event?” Betty maintained eye contact. She didn’t want him to think that she regretted anything that happened. Jughead just looked at her and broke out into a crooked grin. 

“Whenever you want, Betts. Whenever you want.” At that she got off his lap, stood up and held out her hands expectantly. Jughead just grabbed her hands and dragged her to him for another kiss. 

“Well I hope you understand that I don’t plan on sharing you Mr. Jones” Betty teased. She flicked his nose with her finger and laughed. Jughead replied by wrapping his arms around her again. 

“Oh no Ms. Cooper, you aren’t going anywhere. In fact, the only place you’ll be heading is to Pops for some burgers and milkshakes with me”. Betty nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Jughead walked over to where the bags were laying and picked them both up with his left hand. Turning around, he saw Betty putting on her jacket and held out his right hand. She made her way over and grabbed his hand with her left one, using her free hand to get her school bag from him. Walking out of the office, they let the door close behind them and made their way out of the school, holding hands. 

Come Monday, who knew what was going to happen. They both have their issues that they have to work through, they still have a murder to solve and they haven’t even breached the idea of telling their friends about their blossoming relationship. They found each other in an unlikely situation, and for the time being, that’s more than enough. Betty and Jughead.

A threatening kiss

You and Harry are arguing after pictures of him making out with a girl are published online. He claims he’s innocent, but fed up and hurt you make him sleep at a hotel for the night. 

Warning: Hints on mature content

This is a One Shot I have had saved in my drafts for a very long time now and since I haven’t posted in a while, I tried to go over it one more time and then publish it. Please pardon any mistakes, I finished it in one sitting. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Gif is not mine, as I have never gotten this close to the beautiful human that is Harry Styles. 

His hair was a mess after having his ringed fingers furiously pulling on the newly short locks. Harry’s eyes were desperate and reflected his distraught emotions. After having argued for over two hours now, he felt like all hope I might believe his words was lost. He didn’t find it in him to blame me though, there was enough evidence to be held against him. I didn’t look much better myself as I had adapted Harry’s habit of stressed hair pulling. Additional to that came the redness on my cheeks and the stickiness the tears had left on them. My mind and heart raced as I stared at the man standing in front of me. He looked so strange to me now. 

I’d always expected something like this to happen, he was the famous Harry Styles after all. People loved him, wanted to be like or with him and as his girlfriend, I was aware that at some point, I’d be pulled into the mess as well. Some day, someone would try to jeopardize our relationship. However, I had always thought that should it happen, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe a PR stunt his management forced onto him without him knowing or something.
I had never believed that he would come home and tell me that the pictures of him pressed against and kissing a girl, who clearly wasn’t me, were real. The pink lips I was so familiar with had just been tasted by someone else and that was something I could not accept.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?” Harry cried, his voice breaking after being raised for too long.

“Because this is exactly what everyone warned me about when I first started going out with you!”

Sitting down on the couch I buried my face in my hands as I allowed more tears to fall. My entire body jerked as sobs wrecked through me and I shook my head in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“It’s what you always do, right? You’re going out with one girl and once you’re sick of her you pick the next in line. I always figured that was a PR thing and that it wouldn’t happen once you were in a serious relationship, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Seriously, Y/N? You can’t just hold what I did before I was with you against me now, that would make you no better than all those damn magazines talking bullshit about me. And besides, that’s not what happened at all! This girl just came on to me!

"Yeah? Well maybe none of this would’ve happened if you’d told your precious fans about us! Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight girls off if they knew that you’re already with someone!”

I knew I was being unfair as we had actually gotten to an agreement on that topic already, but I continued anyway. “But you like that don’t you? That’s why you’re keeping me as your dirty, little secret at home! You love how every girl would throw herself at your feet and kiss them should you ask!”

He shook his head. Harry’s breathing was hectic and he looked as exhausted as I felt. His usually intimidating appearance was shadowed by the glossiness of his green eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks. I felt sick. I knew what my words did to him, but to finally have voiced my darkest fears felt like a weigh being lifted off my chest.

“Look, Harry, I think we’ve argued enough for tonight. I’m done.”

He stared at me silently before nodding. “Alright. We should just talk about it tomorrow.”

“No,” I breathed, repetitively clenching and unclenching my fists. “I’m done with this mess. I want- I need a break.”

Harry’s eyes followed my movements as I got up and brushed past him on my way to the kitchen. When my shoulder brushed against his arm I felt as if the contact burned my skin. The meal I had prepared before the yelling had begun was now a mess and littered all over. The pieces of his plate lay still shattered on the floor while my food rested untouched and I quickly decided that I would only clean the worst of it tonight and leave the rest for tomorrow.

“What are you saying? You- You’re breaking up with me?” Harry’s voice sounded small from behind me and my heart broke at the noise.

It was the complete opposite from how he had spoken to me only minutes ago, all quiet and uncertain. I sighed and leaned against the sink.
I knew Harry loved me and god knows I loved him more than anything else, but I couldn’t deny the pain I felt when I first saw the pictures. The disappointment cursing through my veins when he confirmed that they were real. The taste of vomit made its way up my throat by the mere thought of his lips pressed to hers. His hands touched the skin of her waist, the tight crop-top exposing more than I ever wore out of the house, as her own hands fisted in his hair. And no matter how much he swore his faithfulness and devotion to me, he didn’t feel like mine anymore.

“I’ll stay at a hotel for the night.”

Within three strides he reached me and turned me to face him with gentle touches to my cheeks. His green eyes stared intensely into mine, making my knees go weak. I pressed back hard against the cold stone, uncomfortable by his sudden closeness.

“You want away from me that desperately?”

I carefully pried his hands from my face. “Yes. I’m sorry, Harry, but I want some time away from you.”

Tears shot to his eyes, drowning their green in pain. A sob left his mouth and I had to look away. Watching Harry cry hurt more than anything else had tonight. It felt wrong, seeing a person who was usually so confident and had happiness shining from his eyes looking at me with such utter sadness.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, “Please. I- I know I fucked up badly. But I swear to you I didn’t cheat. I never would. Do you really believe I would ruin us for someone else?” he shook his head forcefully. “You’re the most important person in my life. Please, I beg of you-”

He moved to touch me again but I quickly raised both hands and pushed him away hard, a gesture that wouldn’t have done much given his height and strength, but it was Harry, and Harry reacted to my discomfort. He pulled away instantly and took a few strides back.

“Y/N,” he murmured, defeated. “will you not hear me out? Please.”

“I have and I can’t any longer, Harry,” I exhaled desperately. My hands rubbed the skin beneath my eyes to wipe away any wetness left on the skin. “Even looking at you doesn’t feel the same anymore. You kissed her! I can’t even say it without feeling like I’ll have to vomit! This is too much for me, can’t you see that?”

Harry looked as if I had hit him right across his face. His cheeks were red and his mouth open in shock. He tried to reach me again but seemed to change his mind and he let his hands drop to his sides.

“From the day we met, I have done nothing but love you! I’ve put you first, I sacrificed so much and this is what I get? How is that fair? Tell me ‘cause I’m stumped!”

“Listen to me,” he spoke in an urgent tone. His pleading came unexpected as I had gotten used to him screaming at me with nothing but anger in his voice.

“I’ll leave. Okay? I promise not to come back until you ask me to. I’ll give you time,” his voice cracked and he coughed, “away from me. But please, stay here. I need to know you’re safe.”

His eyes searched my face and widened when I nodded. Sleeping at a hotel somewhere in London wasn’t something I was exactly eager to do and since the entire argument was all his fault in my eyes, it may as well be him who suffers the consequences. Though the whole situation did cause me suffering as well.

“Fine,” I agreed quietly.

“I’ll get a few things and then I’ll be gone.”

He looked like he had hoped I’d say something along the line of a request to make him stay, but I only nodded again and watched as he slowly left the kitchen. I didn’t move, even when I heard him rummaging in our drawers and the zipper of a bag being pulled. The pit of my stomach felt like a vacuum, an empty space that pushed all my organs out its way to fill my body with uneasiness. Soon Harry was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, fully dressed and with his bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll… ehm… I’ll go now. You’ll be alright?”

“I think so,” I croaked.

We stared at each other for a minute. His lips partnered as he bit back so much he had to say, before deciding against it.

“Can I ask one thing from you before I go?”

I hesitated but nodded. Harry sighed and clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Kiss me? I don’t want to leave without one more kiss from you.”

The desperation in his voice caught my attention and kept me from shouting at him for even asking. I understood that he didn’t ask out of lust for me or so that he could prove a point. His eyes pleaded me to let him have one reminder as he feared I would decide to end our relationship while he was absent.

“Just one,” I murmured and forced myself not to step back as he approached me.

Harry carefully touched my cheek and whimpered upon feeling how sore my skin was. I reached my own arms up as he gently nudged my nose with his before leaning in further until his warm mouth met mine. I whined in surprise as he didn’t go slow like he usually did, but pushed his tongue against my lips in order to get me to open them the second they pressed against his. Harry cradled my face in both hands to keep me from moving away as he guided the kiss. Just as I felt myself loosing to him he pulled away.
His eyes stared at me as if he tried to speak through them, but before I could say anything he turned and exited the room.
I jumped when I heard the door slam shut forcefully. My heart ached at the faint sound of his car pulling up on the street as he drove away, leaving me alone in our big and empty home. It took less than ten minutes of him gone before the events of the night came crushing down on me, causing hysterical cries to leave my mouth as I crouched down on the floor. I didn’t bother quieting my sobs and allowed myself to be absorbed in my hurt. At first it surprised me that none of our neighbors came to check up on me, but it soon occurred to me that they had most likely heard Harry and I argue and seen him drive away. A sudden fear crept through me and I jumped to my feet. As it was very late it had got dark outside a long time ago. I knew how crazy the Londoner streets around our house got by this hour and I instantly reached for my phone. How could I have made him drive? My heart ached at the thought of something happening to him; I wouldn’t be able to bare it. Before my fingers could dial the familiar phone number, I stopped. I was acting foolish and simply tried to invent a reason for me to call him back. His presence was already missed dearly.
I made my way up to our bathroom, undressed and stepped into the shower. Hot water touching my skin always washed away any tension, today however, it did little to calm me. At least it killed time. Once dressed I grabbed a blanked and curled up on the couch, but it felt much too big without a second body there. I uncomfortably stretched my limps and after flipping through various channels I switched the TV off. I rested one of my hands against my forehead and momentarily closed my eyes.

Think Y/N. Think. What are the facts?

Harry had kissed a girl that wasn’t me. He had betrayed me in the most hurtful way and had gone against the one promise he’d made me he swore was as sacred to him as it was to me. He cheated. Another cry left my lips and I cursed my eyes for letting more tears fall as an image of him having sex with her shot through my head. My stomach turned. My Harry laying bare on a bed for someone who wasn’t me? I had always hated to as much as imagine him with women before we started dating, but to think of him sleeping with someone else while he had me was something entirely else. Unimaginable almost.

I decided he couldn’t have. Though I had believed him kissing someone else was impossible, too, sex was an entirely different department and I knew he would never cross that line. After all, he did tell me about it. He came home and immediately owned up to everything.
It had hurt just as much as I imagined hearing it through the media would have, but his honesty still meant a lot to me.

His reaction could have been a better one, though. The second I had began questioning him for details about how exactly the girl had gotten to be in a position this close to him, he raised his voice. I understood his anger at my doubts in him, but how could he possibly blame me? There were pictures for god’s sake! And they didn’t exactly show him particularly disgusted to be making out with a fan.
But what if his loud reaction had been his desperation shining through as he tried to show me how scared he was of losing us?

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered. “What are you doing to me.”

Maybe what I had said earlier was true. This happened because no one knew he had a girlfriend. Girls wouldn’t push themselves at him anymore once they knew, right? Okay, some might, but I knew there were fans who respected the girlfriends. And maybe what he had said was true, too. That he had always been faithful to me and didn’t deserve to be doubted by me. If only I could have collected my emotions and let him explain himself better.
I loved him so much. Too much maybe.
One glance to the clock told me that Harry had now been gone for over three hours already. The ache in my chest increased and I missed my boyfriend’s presence more and more by the second. I unlocked my phone and opened his chat where my fingers quickly flew over the keys.

Come home?

His answer came so quickly it made me smile in relief and picture him sitting beside his phone all night, awaiting a message from me.

You sure?

My phone buzzed again before I could reply.

Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’m on my way.

And again.

I’ll be there in 30. I love you. xx

Warmth spread through my body and I smiled. I patted the pillow I rested my head on and sighed happily, knowing that he’d be back soon. For the first time this evening, I felt at ease.



I felt a hand on my shoulder and then one pressed against my hips. My head felt dizzy and my eyes too heavy to fully open as I was lifted up and scooped into Harry’s arms.

“Why were you sleeping down here, baby? Did you forget our incredibly comfortable bed upstairs?” Harry softly chuckled.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, nuzzling his neck, finding comfort in his warmth. My heart swelled and I felt like I could finally breathe again as my chest pressed against his when he pulled me against himself tightly.

“I can’t believe you fought me to leave you the bed and sleep somewhere else, only for you to take the couch. Makes no sense, love, does it?”

Harry smiled when the only answer he received from me was a whine. He carried me upstairs and gently placed me on our soft mattress. Careful fingers unzipped the thin material I wore over my shirt before he slid off my sweats, leaving me in just the shirt and a pair of knickers. All of a sudden his presence was gone again.

“Harry?” I called out for him as I propped myself up on my elbows.

“I’m gonna sleep in the guest room, my angel” his quiet voice hummed from somewhere in the room.

“Why?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I had expected us to be fine now and him to cuddle with me. My mind was too tired to think about any more reasons to argue with him. I longed for this to become one of the quiet and comfortable nights we always had.

“You said you needed space, my love. Wanted away from me, remember?”

I could particularly hear his pout in his voice before a chuckle rumbled through the room when I vigorously shook my head. My shoulders relaxed as I noticed how calm he seemed.

“I changed my mind,” I whined and sat up, reaching both arms out into the direction I believed him standing since the darkness prevented me from actually seeing him. “Come here. Need you to make me warm again.”

Harry didn’t make any noise. I hated not seeing him and sighed as my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He stood near the door, an expression of hesitation on his face. There was a small smile playing on his lips, however, and I could see the relief in his eyes upon my request of him staying with me.
He didn’t move fast, as if he was expecting me to change my ming any second, but my breath hitched when I felt the bed dip under the weight of another body. Harry crawled onto his side of the bed, pulling the covers higher over the both of us. He sprawled out beside me and his eyes locked with mine.

“Hi,” he murmured quietly.

I reached out my hand and he entwined our fingers. I smiled when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my knuckles. A giggle escaped his lips when I pulled at his hand, motioning him to move closer to me. Following my silent request he pushed himself up and laid his body down closer to mine, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“Hey,” I breathed.

We stared at each other. His green eyes were clear and lightly swollen, telling me that he had cried at least as much as I did.

“I’m so sorry,” he promised in a low whisper.

I shook my head to silence him.

“Harry,” I breathed, brushing his hair from his forehead. “You know you mean the world to me. I want nothing less than to lose you, you must know that.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/N,” Harry spoke and leaned forward to bury his nose against my shoulder and in my hair.

“You’ve proven me often enough that I can trust you,” I continued and reached up one hand so that I could caress his neck.
“Tell me your side of the story,” I suggested, “I’ll listen properly this time and will believe you, whatever it is you tell me.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed and tugged on my hand, followed by giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I was at Sainsbury’s to get your tea like you asked me to, when all of a sudden this girl showed up and she just grabbed my face and began kissing me. She fisted my hair and shirt so I couldn’t get her off of me without hurting her, which I obviously didn’t want to do either. I really had to push her several times before she lessened her grip, but of course that wasn’t until some damn photographer’s took pictures of it. I’m so sorry,” he choked on the last word, “Y/N I never meant for you to get hurt like this. I know what it looks like. But I swear to you, the kiss wasn’t mutual. I didn’t kiss back and I haven’t seen the girl since, nor would I ever want to! I’m so sorry. Please believe me.”

A sob left his lips and I shuddered as wet tears dripped onto my neck.

“Sh, Harry, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him.

“No it’s not, I mean look at you. You’re hurt and you’ve been crying. And I yelled at you when you aren’t the one who made the mistake. I’m such an asshole. ”

“That’s not true, Harry. You’re nothing like an asshole. At all.”

Harry sniffled and pulled back so he could look at me. The back of my hands moved up to brush over his temples before taking hold of his face.

“I love you so much,” I told him. “You didn’t to anything wrong. I should have believed you in the first place instead of doubting you. You’ve always been faithful to me, a picture shouldn’t have been able to ruin all that.”

I gently stroke over his eyelid with the tip of my finger. The skin felt sore and I sighed sadly.
“I’m sorry I caused you so much pain.”

His hands held my waist and pulled me against him. Harry shuffled further down and pressed his head against my shoulder. I rested my chin on his head and kissed his hair. I felt him breath heavily as if he wanted to say something and couldn’t find the words. Finally all he said was:

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry” I whispered.

Silence settled upon us and I felt like there was nothing more we could say, but we didn’t fall asleep full. Harry didn’t move until the very early morning. It was only then that he allowed me to move my arms from around his shoulders to around his waist as he crawled up to lay closer by the headboard.

“M'gonna tell the world about us tomorrow,” he murmured, “Want everyone to know that m'taken.”

I sighed and nodded. “Please do.”

We stayed cuddled like that for several more hours before he rolled over me. His mouth found mine in a slow kiss and his hands reached down to pull at the hem of my knickers. We didn’t bother taking off my shirt or completely pushing down his boxers, only freeing what was needed.
I kissed him tenderly and blindly reached behind him to pull the covers over both of our heads.

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome and so are requests, though I’m quite busy at the moment and it will take me some time to finish anything I start new right now. 

The rest of what I wrote you can find here:

Bodyswap AU - Part 2 ( part 1 here )

She stared at her own body through the red lenses of the mask, her shocked brain quickly putting the pieces together.

“Vader?” she asked, the vocoder failing to convey the full extent of her incredulity. Oh yes, they had a problem indeed.

Vader simply nodded, his face a mix of gravity and lingering dazedness.

She heaved herself to her feet – a process made quite strenuous by the weight of the armor  – using both hands and legs to push herself off the ground, which, unfortunately, failed to make the exercise easier. She clenched her jaws in pain as she felt a stretch in her left shoulder, as if her flesh were about to tear itself open. She leaned against the nearest shelf, allowing herself to recover a bit before she spoke again, covering the sound of her heavy, relentless breathing and of that faint something that seemed to be playing in the back of her mind.

“I think I pulled a muscle,” she stated lamely. “What happened?”

“I do not know, Aphra, though I suspect it has to do with the holocron,” he said, picking through the crystal shards that lay scattered around him.

I told you so, an old man’s voice rang out, nearly causing her heart to spring out of her chest. She felt a cold shiver crawling up her backbone, and swallowed uneasily.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her booming voice hiding the sudden panic that had her rooted on the spot. “Who said that?”

Vader arched an eyebrow, not quite certain what she was referring to.

“Who said what?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything, but if he was ‘her’ and she was ‘him’, in a manner of speaking, then there was only one plausible explanation: Force-ghosts.

“I told you so,” she answered. Oh. Right. Then he knew exactly who it was.

“Aphra, will you please tell that patronizing, backstabbing old goat to kindly dissipate and go haunt someone else?”

Aphra tilted her head in a questioning way – not an obvious motion by any means, but then he knew the collar to restrict such movements. His reaction may have been a little… personal. That was bound to raise questions. And if there was someone who would undoubtedly ask them, it was the nosy, boisterous woman whose body he was trapped in.

And Aphra was, indeed, bearing a perplexed look, her eyebrows knit together as she wondered what the kriff he was talking about, when the mysterious voice interrupted her train of thought with out a fatherly, yet utterly joyless chuckle, one that quickly died away to let her ponder what she had just heard. She took a few seconds to contemplate the situation and came to the conclusion that things might, perhaps, be more alarming than she had initially thought. She was several meters underground, in a vault that could crumble any minute, stormbound on this backwater Rebel rock – without a single bar or tech junkyard to hang at, mind you – trapped in someone else’s body ­– which was definitely not the most comfortable experience she had been through so far – and now, she could hear ghosts. Ghosts. Somebody pinch her. At least the spirit seemed to have taken Vader’s not-so-subtle hint.

“I think he’s gone…” she hazarded.

“No he’s not. He’s gloating in the shadows as we speak.”

“Who is he?”

“Someone you had better not trust”, he answered cryptically, his voice laced with unconcealed contempt. Vader knew that ghost well, too well for his own taste. Of that she was certain. Before she got a chance to ask what had happened between the two, a sharp beep from Beetee caused her head to swivel, with a suddenness she immediately regretted, wincing at the sudden tension of her neck muscles.

“Masters, Beetee is picking up several lifeform readings from the gallery beneath us.”


“And they seem to be heading for this level. Primary analysis suggests kinrath.”

“You mean those big, slimy, venomous spiders?”

“Indeed, Mistress, and they are getting close. I might add that their venom has fascinating properties, though I rather doubt you wish to experiment them for yourself.”

“Uh… not really, no.” She turned to look at Vader, who was busy collecting the last pieces of the holocron. “Hey boss, this place is really cool and all but how about we get going? Like… now.”

The words had barely left her mouth that a spindly, mucous appendage shot out from behind a shelf, curling around its corner. A sharp, sibilant hiss answered another one, then two, then three, and part of her could sense a ravenous hunger, simmering, growing, focusing onto them as the clamor built up.

“Oh… I have a bad feeling about this.”

Suddenly the hissing turned to a din of shrieks, and the whole of the mob sprung out of the shadows, rushing towards their prey in a furious frenzy.


Now that sounded like a plan. Aphra took to her heels but the creatures were fast, and the weight of the armor was slowing her down. She heard and felt the swarm narrowing in on her, a compact mass of kinrath now filling the corridor mere meters behind her, some crawling up the walls to outrun the stampede.

Uh oh. This is bad.

She felt a squishy mass drop down from the ceiling and right onto her head, fully occulting her vision as it latched onto her helmet and began trying to tear it off.

“A little help here?”

Vader stopped in his tracks upon hearing her call. Aphra’s body was light and surprisingly nimble, and he hadn’t realized how much of a distance he had covered until he turned to look back. Not that he could see much – the hallways were, indeed, quite dark for the bare eye – but he could see enough to know that she was far.

“Use your lightsaber!” he shouted.

“No way, I’m gonna cut my head off!” she exclaimed as more kinraths began climbing onto her.

Yes, that would be most embarrassing. But not as likely as being turned into canned kinrath food if things went on that way.

“Would you rather be eaten alive? Just do it!” he ordered, still fumbling for his blaster. Hopefully he still knew how to use one. “The lightsaber, not the head.” Obviously. “Red button.”

Everything is red!” she exploded, finally managing to throw the animal off her head.

Fair enough.

“The one on the top!” he said, aiming his blaster at the mob.

“Okay. Okay. I got this.” She ignited the weapon and began thrashing around like a … like what exactly? No matter. It seemed to be working.

“Guys you know you’re allowed to help!” she exclaimed amidst the howling of the beasts, not bothering to dodge the spider legs she sent flying around.

“Oh, but this was so entertaining…” Triple-Zero grumbled as he reluctantly turned to his companion. “Alright Beetee, you heard Mistress Aphra.”

Both droids fired in concert, until Beetee grew tired of it and aimed his flamethrower in the direction of the melee. Piercing, dissonant shrieks of agony rang out, reverberating on the walls, but they were soon silenced by Aphra’s panicked blows.

“You nearly set me on fire!” she berated the droid.

Vader bristled at the thought. Once was more than enough.

“Shall we go now?”

Aphra nodded and handed him the saber. “I’m not saying you’re a bad shot but… I think we should trade.”


They hastened the pace and quickly reached the surface, setting foot on its dry, reddish sand, so thin that every step lifted a cloud of dust. The wind had subsided to a mild, gentle breeze, and the dim light indicated it was nearly nightfall. The surroundings were calm, without a sign of life… save for the jangling tone of Aphra’s comlink – well, his comlink, which never, ever missed an occasion to disturb him at the most inconvenient of times.

“Pick it up,’ he sighed jadedly.

“Ah, Lord Vader. Glad you finally deigned to answer my calls. What is going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Aphra wasn’t quite sure what to respond to this.  

“I… um… nothing. I’m fine, I’m all fine now. How are you?”

Tagge’s only answer was an annoyed flick of his hand.

“You still haven’t confirmed your presence at tomorrow’s meeting. Shall I see you there?”

“Uh… I… yes?”

“Good. And I still await you report on the Anthan 13 incident. Make sure you bring the file along. Tagge out.”

The hologram flickered and quickly disappeared, and Aphra couldn’t help but voice the first thought that crossed her mind:

“Wait, I’ve got homework now?”

36 Part 3 (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

A/N: Well here it is! This part was a lot longer than I was expecting it to be but I’m super excited for everyone to read it :) If you have any feedback or more requests, please let me know! :) I will try to get through more writing but with school picking up I make no promises, except to do my best :)

Part 1  Part 2 


After you had left, Lin looked at the time to see that it was barely 6:30am. Not knowing what else to do, he hopped in the shower to try and clear his foggy mind. A few hours ago he was certain that he had ruined everything. He had wanted to call you immediately and apologize, knowing that it would be more effective than running out after you and trying to find you by sheer will. It was then that he had noticed that you had left your phone behind, and there was no way to contact you. Lin panicked, and he prayed with everything he had that you wouldn’t get hurt. Well, more hurt than what he had already caused.

He mentally kicked himself for not realizing sooner what he was doing. Of course this musical was incredibly important to him, and Alex and Tommy were getting on his case now more than ever to finish writing, but he had let you slip through his fingers as a result. He had neglected you, and you had blamed yourself. He couldn’t help but remember your last words to him before you left.

“Well then please forgive me for wanting to be enough for my husband.”

In his eyes, you were more than enough. God you were everything. But his ignorance had made you believe that you weren’t as incredible as he knew you were.

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Thank you for the prompt @whosafraidofthebigbaddreadwolf
(Sorry i just realized I hadn’t posted this from last week)
For @dadrunkwriting

TITLE: The First Meeting


PAIRING: We’ll say solavellan but it’s self indulgent MGIT + Solas

She was there again. In Skyhold’s library. Black hair. Plump figure. Hazel eyes with furrowed brows that sped across the pages of the book she was currently studying, while scribbling notes of some kind on a page.

An oddity. That she was. But fair and quiet.

Usually he kept his distance, sizing her up from behind his chair across the room or watching her from the corner of his eye as he grabbed a new book for research. Though seemingly docile, he had suspicions about her. The Inquisitor had recruited her for reasons unbeknownst to him and the woman had little to no background information. Though he watched, he never uncovered anything that confirmed those suspicions. But something was different today. A silver chain hung around her neck, the gem it held, a small green orb that glowed as she bent down to retrieve her fallen quill.

He caught sight of it and grew curious.

Once realizing it had escaped from beneath the thin confines of her tunic, she quickly slipped it beneath her collar, glancing to her left and right to see if anyone had noticed.

She hadn’t noticed him. She never noticed him.

Until today.

Solas calmly walked towards the woman, his gait unhurried and graceful. Standing before her, he caught sight of her work, a bit of research perhaps…


He realized now that it was a piece of fiction and a terrible attempt at ciphering the Elvhen language by a human. It took everything in him not to snatch the pages from her hands and scribble in the correct letters and accents. The grammar and punctuation was horrendous as well.

“Fen harel is followed by an e after the f, not an a.”

“And the f is followed by u,” she retorted, not bothering to look up from her work, still scribbling down words on the page.

Solas’ brows crinkled. “I only sought to offer help. Your work is riddled with errors.”

“It’s called a first draft. I often don’t excel at perfection on the first try.”

Solas chuckled. “I have yet to meet someone who does.”

She didn’t smile in return but she did meet his gaze. “What do you want?”

He gestured to the open chair next to her. “May I sit?”


Solas was taken aback. It was rare to find someone so…honest.

“Please?” He asked. “I should apologize for being so rude. My name is Solas. I believe a proper introduction is in order.”

She stared at him for a moment or two. Taking in those stormy gray eyes, chiseled jawline, soft bowed lips, dimpled chin, bald head, and elven ears. Her mouth remained pursed but she seemed to consider for a moment.

“Ava.” She stuck her arm out straight and he took it. Her grip was firm and her shake tight. She nodded once before loosening her grip and letting it fall back down to her lap. “So, how can I help you, Solas?”

“I have seen you here many times. I am often here as well. I thought it time I make your acquaintance.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “And you thought coming over here to correct my writing was the way to go about that?” Her brow arched. “You might have worse social skills than myself.” She began scratching out words on her page and writing in replacements.

“Well if you had not made so many noticeable errors, I would have started the conversation differently,” he said in his defense.

Ava shook her head. “Seriously? You’re really defending your rude behavior?”

He sighed, convicted by his own hasty response, done in pride. “Ir abelas.”

She snorted. “Tel abelas. I don’t expect you to be sorry. I like that you don’t smooth out your hard edges for my sake.” She stopped scribbling to look up at him again. “Why today?”

“What do you mean by that question?”

“You said you have seen me here many times yet you’ve never spoken to me before. Why did you choose to do so today?”

“I was curious,” he said. It was not a lie but wasn’t exactly the truth either.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

Solas flinched. Was that some sort of threat?
“Are you saying that you will kill me?”

She let out a choked laugh. If only he knew. “No. It’s a figure of speech.” She closed up her books and gathered her pages, stuffing them inside the rucksack that lay at her feet. “Come on. I’m hungry. If you’ve got questions, you can ask them while I whip something up for us to eat.”

“But I’m not hungry.”

“You will be. Just indulge me, ok?” She slung her ruck sack over her broad strong shoulders and moved for the door.

Solas stood. “Very well.” He followed after her as she led him up to the main hall and over to the kitchen.

She rifled through pots and pans, the metal clanging loudly as they swung from their hooks, until she found the one she was looking for. He watched as she sifted through cupboards, searching for something that, seemingly, didn’t exist.

The elven cook with bright red hair flung open the door looking like she would blow a gasket. “My kitchen! My pans! What are you doing?”

“Looking for chocolate,” Ava explained, still scouring the shelves.

The elf sighed. “We’re out. The Inquisitor…she has a sweet tooth. She finished off the last of it.”

Ava gritted her teeth. “Will you be getting another shipment soon?”

“Not for another week.”

Closing her eyes and breathing through her nose, she counted to ten while cursing inwardly. “Thank you, Sylvie.” Her eyes flew back to Solas. “Well, I suppose I’ll be making a trip to Val Royeaux.”

She half wanted to ask him to come along, half wanted to go alone. Solas consumed her mind on a regular basis. It’s why she avoided him consistently. She knew who he was but still wanted him, desired him like something fierce. Being alone with him…well, she wasn’t sure how she would be able to handle herself.

She swallowed after his moment of silence, preparing herself to go just as he said, “I would like to join you. There is no sense in you traveling alone. I will gather my things and meet you at the stables.”

Ava nodded because no words would come out. Solas would be traveling with her. There was no going back now. So she took a deep breath and walked toward the stables, reminding herself of all the things she should NOT tell him.

So, Rogue One isn’t that far away, but it’s not here yet and so I may be chewing on the walls just a little bit, so, okay, here, have a bunch of STAR WARS fic that helped me pass the time. I EXPECT A SURGE OF YOU TO JOIN ME AGAIN WHEN THE MOVIE COMES OUT BECAUSE I NEED MORE FIC ABOUT THE ORIGINAL TRASH LORD DUMPSTER FIRE, I just love him so much, okay. p.s. the Catalyst novel is delightful, you should definitely read that, too. (Fic recs every Wednesday.)

shelter by tangeton, obi-wan/anakin, 16.1k wip
   A Jedi and a slave walk into a bar. This could be a setup to a terrible joke, and it is, because Obi-Wan really hadn’t meant to free all the slaves on this blasted planet. Tatooine AU.
space dementia by wellwhiskey, eventual obi-wan/anakin/padme & dooku, sith!obi-wan, 30.7k wip
   AU - Darth Maul survives the Battle of Theed. Obi-Wan succeeds in his quest for vengeance but fails to escape The Dark Side. Anakin goes along for the ride.
And None Of It Seems To Matter by Kablob, mylordshesacactus, ahsoka/barriss & luminara & obi-wan & asajj, 70.6k wip
   Barriss Offee had no idea what fate she averted for herself or her friend Ahsoka Tano when she stopped her planned attack on the Jedi Temple before it started. But her actions will still have far-reaching consequences—for both of them.
all the words you cannot say by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.6k
   Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead. Ahsoka and Anakin struggle to pick up the pieces.
Chase the Sun by Syphrosine, kanan/hera & rex & ocs, 25.4k wip
   Low on funds, Hera and Kanan are relieved when a well-paying salvage job falls into their laps. But what starts out as a simple retrieval will soon put the secret of Kanan’s Jedi past at risk.
Completely Irrational by deaka, luke/mara & ben skywalker, 2.1k
   Ben overhears his parents arguing about his training. Luke, Mara, Ben, before LotF.
Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & mace & cast, 77.4k wip
   Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other.
Deja Vu by SkippingSteppingStones, obi-wan & anakin & luke, 2k
   When Darth Vader is roused from sleep by a sob he feels strangely connected to, he is compelled to find its source.
Don’t Look Back by Valairy Scot, obi-wan & anakin, 26.7k
   ObiWan Kenobi doesn’t believe in luck. It’s one choices and training, not luck, that determines one fate. When he and his padawan are stranded in the mountains, he faces a life or death decision and Anakin Skywalker faces a lesson he never wished to learn
A Walking Shadow by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & luke & leia & padme & ahsoka & cast, 57.3k wip
   It is five years into the Empire’s ascension, an order built on the blood and bodies of the Jedi. None survived, they say, and the handsome, icy profile of Lord Vader plastered across every Imperial city leaves no room for doubt in the minds of many. But Vader knows there is at least one left, one that escaped him on Mustafar all those years ago.
From a Certain Point of View pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4, obi-wan & anakin & padme & ahsoka & sidious & cast, 7.5k
   Or, how Ben Kenobi’s boldfaced lie prevarication saved the Galaxy (but not in the way he thought it would).
Ask Me No Questions by XtinethePirate, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.4k
   Anakin and ObiWan. An interlude between the Jedi Boys in the shower leads to a pointed question… and an unexpected, but very emphatic, answer.
A Personal Matter by ruth baulding, obi-wan & cast, 3.4k
   Angst-ridden epilogue to CW Episode 5.1 “Revival.”
They Are by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 1.7k
   This is their moment, their eternity. They think its going to be like this forever.
dusk before sundown by thegoddessinzerogravity, anakin & ahsoka & shaak ti, 1.3k
   Shaak Ti gently ran her fingers over the still-sleeping Ahsoka’s forehead. “Master Skywalker, I’m going to be honest with you. When Ahsoka first reached the age where she was to be assigned a Master, I was very close to requesting that she be assigned to me, not anyone else.” Anakin tried to ignore the sudden ache in his chest, and managed to ask, “Do you regret it?”

full details + recs under the cut!

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anonymous asked:

So it's kinda your fault that I've fallen into Kent parson hell because I honestly truly was not supposed to like him and then you went around reblogging all these lovely posts about him being happy and now I'm in love. Anyway, as I recall, you once said something about having read every kp/oc fic on ao3, so could you possibly make a fic rec list for that please?

Nobody ever means to fall into Kent Parson Hell - I remember the days when I was underwhelmed by KP and thought that all the fuss was a little much. I feel compelled to dig up literally one of my first posts about OMGCP for you to demonstrate my previous apathy. So yeah, I fell into the pit too.

This is kinda, sorta a dirty little secret of mine, but I’m actually an angst monster and that’s part of the reason I really enjoy a lot of KP-centric fics because they have a lot of room to explore how a character navigates life and relationships after a traumatic experience right on the cusp of adulthood. (noooo, I can’t fucking relate to that at all, what are you talking about?) I tend to write a lot of fluff because I want to like project positive thoughts into the world about love and romantic partners, but my real life experiences with romantic relationships have been pretty shitty in a hundred different ways and Kent strikes a lot of chords with me because of that.

Fic recs and more rambling about why I love each fic under the cut. All of these are either Kent/OC or just Kent-centric with little or no romance on the side. :)

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