Jamilton angst! (like one of them gets uber hurt or even dies or something) just...lotsa angst!
here’s a canon!era/reincarnation fic based on this au@exadorlion made that made me feel sad inside
“My dearest, Alexander,” Thomas smiled against his lover’s mouth despite the grim situation they were in, “Don’t fret, my love.” His hand lifted to cradle Alexander’s face. The motion was tender but their was an underlying possessiveness to it.
There’s a hut on campus, down by the Mechanical Engineering building. It backs onto the forest, so of course, it’s entirely out of bounds now. It’s old, clearly, but it doesn’t seem to be falling apart in any major way, just crumbled at the edges, although it seems like it’s always been that way.
It’s got stone walls, but a wooden porch, the planks and railing bleached by the sun. Hanging from the rafters are different wind chimes, made of strange, warped pieces of metal. Some of them shine, as though they were polished yesterday, whilst others are brown with rust. When the wind blows, sometimes they clatter loudly, as though they are warning bells, and sure enough, within a day or so, a storm will hit campus, or someone will go missing, one of the cats is found dead, hanging from a doorway, or lamppost.
When the chimes start to clatter and clang, everyone listens. There’s a scrambled for iron jewellery, salt crunches under your feet, people wear clothes inside out, milk and chocolate are outside every door, and everyone is inside before ten, and anyone who isn’t, is gone for the rest of the year.
Sometimes, the wind won’t even have to blow, and the chimes will ring and clang and clatter. It’s only happened twice. The first time, a professor died. Her body was found crumpled at the foot of the staircase leading up to the astronomy classes. She didn’t even teach astronomy. Apparently, the students were told she had been drunk, and had fallen.
However the boy who found her said that her ribs were splayed open, there was blood on the floor, most of her insides missing, her lips drawn back in a snarling smile. There was no blood on the staircase.
The second time, a student was found dead in the boys bathroom on the seventh floor of the physics block. It was by a teacher, so there was no eyewitness account, but the first students to walk into the lab directly below the bathroom on the sixth floor said that there had been blood dripping down slowly from the light fixtures.
No one goes to the bathroom on the seventh floor, and no one stays in the lab on sixth after dark.
When the chimes ring soft and sweet, almost musical, but not quite, the cats flock to the small hut with the bleached porch, and students smile. Money is found in hoodie pockets, lost socks return, and blown light bulbs are replaced. Students and professors alike seem less tired, and tests seem easier.
When the chimes ring, good times come, when they clang, people run.
That was the unofficial motto that was whispered across campus.
The hut also has a garden, a beautiful garden. There’s lavender, and rosemary, parsley, sage and thyme. There are roses, orange, pink, yellow, white, and various shades in between. The stone pathways is made up of smooth white rocks from the river, and they’re always slightly warm to the touch.
There are other plants too. Plants with no names. Plants that glow during the full moon, plants that snake across the lawns at night, and slither home during the day. There’s a plant that mirrors the creepers strangling the library, with four seasons smeared across its leaves. There’s a plant that smells like coffee and chocolate and marshmallows and rainy days. Another that smells burnt, but the nice kind of burnt, like toast.
There are lots of stories about the hut, but only one that everyone talks about. Everyone talks about it, but when you ask someone about it, they forget. Maybe everyone is just in on the joke, but then again, this is Elsewhere University.
a post episode ficlet. robert stands outside the mill, and wonders where in the world he’s welcome.
The click of the front door behind him felt like a finality.
Just go, Robert.
If he tried hard enough, Robert could still feel the familiar press of Aaron’s lips against his cheek, remember the happier times it had happened, Aaron’s mouth sticky with toast crumbs and a cheeky grin in place as he planted one on Robert, halfway out the door and late for work.
Or those times when they’d lie in bed, late at night, Aaron’s nose pressed to his cheek, lips murmuring against Robert’s face, quiet, calm, reassuring, home.
Robert closed his eyes, focusing on the faint memory of how Aaron’s lips had felt against his face, how his beard had grazed against Robert’s skin (something he always grumbled about every single time it caused a rash on his overly sensitive skin), could pretend like his entire life hadn’t just crumbled in around him.
Just go, Robert.
W h e r e.
Where was he supposed to go now?
Robert Sugden burnt bridges. He left a trail of destruction behind wherever he went in life, and so it wasn’t as though he had an old friend to turn to, didn’t even have a parent who could take him in and scold him for being so stupid, didn’t have a brother to drown his sorrows with.
He could get in his car and drive, he supposed. Dan did say they’d have the windscreen fixed by the end of the day, and he could just, get in his car, and go - drive away from Emmerdale, drive away from everything that had gone so wrong. It had worked before, after all - he’d driven away from the only home he’d ever known, and he’d built a life for himself.
But something had brought him back, in the end, just like something always would draw him home to Emmerdale.
More like someone.
Robert was never going to stop feeling that all consuming, absolute love he had for Aaron. The things he’d done just to have Aaron, just to feel his lips against his own, feel the love the poured from every inch of Aaron, love so easily and freely given, even when Robert hadn’t deserved any of it.
Robert couldn’t forget that, couldn’t walk away from the greatest love he’d ever known.
But he was nothing, without Aaron. No one, nothing, had nowhere to go, nowhere else he wanted to be except with Aaron, whether that was in the Mill, in the pub, sitting in silence, anything.
He’d take five more minutes, just five more minutes to drink in his husband, memorise every inch of him before it was too late and -
Robert opened his eyes, the world feeling overly bright as he blinked, Adam coming into view. “It’s over,” he admitted hoarsely, not really caring if Adam saw him in a state. Adam had seen him look worse, had seen him on the upstairs landing of Victoria’s cottage, dripping sweat and post a nightmare, reliving the moment he’d been shot over and over and over and over and over and over and over -
“I know,” Adam’s voice cut through Robert’s thoughts, a look of genuine sympathy on his face. “I’ll look after him, I promise ya.”
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader, Father!Tony Stark x Reader, Peter Parker x Tony Stark
Summary: Y/N finds out Peter is cheating on her with one of their friends and tells her father, Tony about it. Tony, like every father, gets pissed and confronts Peter.
A/N: This was requested by an anon who said, “Can you do one where the reader finds peter cheating on her and she goes crying to her father Tony Stark and tells him everything, and Tony confronts Peter the day after. If you can , make it a happy ending!! 😁” I tried to make it a happy ending, but it was a bit hard.
“I don’t like that look.” Your father, Tony stated as he walked up to you. “You’re planning something.”
“What’s the best way to give revenge?”
“Cold.” Tony stated. “Why do you ask?”
You looked up from your project and at your father. “Peter cheated on me with Liz.”
“He did what now?”
“He cheated on me. With Liz! One of my closest friends for fuck’s sake!” You cried out, your voice cracking though no tears fell. “I’ve been faking that I’m fine. I’m faking it til I believe it because I still love him, Dad.”
“I’m gonna kill him.” Tony stated, anger burning in his eyes. “F.R.I.D.A.Y!”
“Yes, sir.” The A.I. chirped.
“Call all of the team except for Underoos.” Tony ordered. “We need to have a little chat.”
“No! Dad! I can handle this on my own.” You panicked. “There’s no need to call the SWAT team if there’s a fire, so you don’t have to call the Avengers if there’s a scuffle.”
“Fine, but I’m still going to have a chat with him, okay?”
“Fine, but I’m still going to get revenge.”
Tony smiled and pulled you into a hug. “Okay, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
You chuckled as your tears finally fell. “Or anything you would do.”
“Peter,” Tony started as he walked towards the boy who was punching a bag. “Let’s have a chat.”
Peter stopped what he was doing, breathing heavily as he turned and looked at Tony. He picked up his rag and wiped his face.
“Can I ask what about, Mr. Stark?”
“It’s about Y/n.”
“What about Y/n? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, something is very terribly wrong with her.” Tony said as he took a seat on the bench in the gym. “You cheated on her and now my poor little girl is heartbroken.”
“Look, sir, it was a mistake! It only happened the one time and I was drunk-”
“Drunk actions are sober thoughts.” Tony stated. “I would know, I am the adult here.”
“Mr. Stark, sir, I am really sorry about what happened, but I already told Y/n-”
“I know what you told her and that’s not really good enough for me. Now, I’d sick the team on you for hurting my little girl, but for some reason she still loves you, so I’ll tell you this, you and her go into the boxing ring,” Tony turned and pointed to the ring in the middle of the gym. “and whomever wins gets to decide the fate of your relationship.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I’d never want to hurt Y/n physically.”
“But, you can hurt her emotionally? Are you listening to yourself, Peter?”
“No! That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s fine, Peter, I’m just messing with you.” Tony chuckled. “But, I’m serious. Either you fight her or she ends up with someone else.”
Peter was definitely not going to fight you, there was just no way, not after the conversation he had that got him to this point. He couldn’t figure out if it was sexist to hit her or not hit her because the line was too fine to even be a line.
And that’s why he stood in the middle of the boxing ring, clutching his nose as his girlfriend mercilessly tore the poor boy apart physically and emotionally. He should have seen this coming. He should have looked into his past mistakes and learned that when you mess with a girl’s heart, her father would find a way to harm you.
“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal.” You said while your eyes rolled. “Walk it off and hit me.”
“You broke my nose!” He cried, blood coming down from his nose. Again, there was no way he was going to fight his girlfriend.
She put her fists down as a smile appeared on her painted lips. Satisfied with his response, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy’s pained expression.
“And you slept with my friend, so I say we’re even.” She replied. “Say ‘uncle’ and maybe we can be together again.”
“Uncle!” Peter cried, slapping his free hand against the ground. “Goddammit, uncle!”
Y/n smiled and bent down, pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Now, let’s go get you patched up. I didn’t know you were a shitty fighter.”
“I just didn’t want to fight you.” Peter stated. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry.”
I have, and I’m sure you have too been bombarded with photos of Harry at the Dunkirk premiere, and it has made me so damn happy. Enjoy! x
It was your favourite part of every day. Early in the morning, sun peeking out from behind grey clouds. the occasional sigh of content coming from the other side of the large bed. You were an early riser at the best of times, constantly having to wake up for an early morning skype call with your parents over the years had caused the habit to stick, On this particular morning, however, the butterflies in your stomach caused a disturbance that made it impossible to sleep. Rolling over, you came face to face with Harry. His hair was a mess of tangled curls and his ringed fingers were still clutched around your waist. Leaning forward, you gently pressed your forehead against his, allowing your eyelashes to brush against his cheeks in a series of eskimo kisses.
An undistinguishable mumble escaped his parted lips, hot breath tingling your face. The striking green eyes you adored gradually came into your view, crinkling into a grin as he took in your excited face.
“S,not your birthday or anything love? Christmas isn’t for ages yet. Why you so happy? S’to early to be that happy.”
You sat up fast, taking the covers with you. “Haz, today’s the day! You’re officially a movie star!” Harry chuckled, running his fingers through his dark locks. Seeing your shining smile and bright eyes created a flutter in his heart, the way it always did when he gazed at you. Excitement or not, behind the beaming face he could see your nails anxiously picking at the skin surrounding your thumbs, the way you always did when you got nervous. Grabbing your hands, he raised them to his lips, kissing each knuckle before clasping them firmly in the middle of his crossed legs. “You know I can always tell when you’re nervous.”
Sighing, you moved forward, resting your cheek in the hollow of his bare shoulder. “I’m trying not to Harry, I really am. I just don’t want to fall over or anything or say the wrong thing. The fans are there as well, and I don’t want to disappoint them. There’s gonna be so many people. I want it to be perfect. I’m so excited for you. Fuck, I’m so damn proud baby. So unbelievably proud.”
Moving his hands up to stroke your back, long fingers massaging the knots away, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of love wash over him. He had worked for months on this film. Months of pushing all the music out of his mind and focusing on the new challenge that was acting. Now it was all catching up to him and was really happening, right here right now. You were the love of his life, and he had done it for you. Those years apart while he was touring with One Direction. The 2-hour phone calls between the two of you that were filled with air kisses and “i love you”s. The nights you spent together, him reading the lines of Alex over and over again with you pretending to be whatever character he needed. He couldn’t wait for you to see how all the time and effort you relentlessly put into him had paid off.
But he also understood. Being surrounded by hundreds of reporters, cameras and screaming fans were stressful for everyone, including himself. With a gentle sigh, Harry leant back on the bed, taking you with him. “M’gonna be with you. right there the whole time. You only have to talk to the press and reporters of you really want to. The fans love you. you’re so good with them. Me mums gonna be there so my two favourite girls can look out for each other. I promise it’s gonna be alright, ok love?”
He pressed a kiss to your pink lips, bright eyes lingering on yours, searching for any signs of remaining nervousness. Grinning, you kissed his nose, jumping off the messy sheets, the butterflies that had been previously causing a commotion in your stomach gone. “Come on then movie star. Let’s go show the world that Mr Harry Styles is not just a pretty face!”
Yay! Hope you lovelies liked it, coz there’s more where that came from! Pretty please send me requests, I wanna write way more for you! Lots of love xxx
Listen, I’ve always followed the rules. I’ve read the pamphlets, heeded the advice of the upperclassmen, never overstepped my boundaries. Carry the iron and salt, only tell your false name, leave three containers of coffee creamer and two caramel squares under that one table in the dining hall every other Tuesday, study in brightly lit and highly populated areas of the library, all the little things you pick up by your second year at Elsewhere.
Don’t mess with the Gentry if you don’t want some kind of trouble. Simple.
My goal, once I figured out what kind of place this school really is, was to stay as far under the radar as possible. I even went as far as to pay extra for a single-person dorm room so there was no risk of having my roommate Taken and Replaced. So, you would think I could get by pretty easily without stirring anything up. Yeah, I thought so too.
Just because I take extra precautions not to mess with the Fairfolk doesn’t mean I’m immune to the imperfections that all college students have. This includes occasionally letting my room get…a little messier than I probably should. But, hey, I don’t have a roommate to call me out on it, so it happens. And that’s where my trouble began.
It started about two weeks ago, when my room was in the state mentioned above. I didn’t think much of it, until I started waking up with weird marks on my body. My arms, my neck, anywhere that was out from under my blanket while I slept. They were almost like bug bites, but also had the unmistakable qualities of burns. Dozens of tiny little burns. I thought maybe it was some kind of bug that had gotten into my room somehow and was eating from the open bag of chips on my desk. But when I cleaned my room to try to find them, there wasn’t a trace of anything. Not a single bug. Still, I left out an ant trap the next night before going to sleep, just in case.
The next morning is when I knew this was something Other. The chips that I had thrown away were out of the trash bin, the bag ripped apart and crumbs littering the floor. The ant trap had scratches around it, but was empty. And there were even more marks on my arm than before. They weren’t itchy or even particularly painful, but they filled my with a kind of dread that could only come from a warning.
I gave in. I bought a mood ring from a shop down the road and brought it back to my room. I needed to know what this was. If I had a name for it, or could at least describe it, maybe someone would know what to do.
That night, I laid in my bed, trying hard to look asleep, the mood ring clutched in my palm so tightly that the cool metal left a circular indent on my skin. I left another bag of chips out on my desk, wanting to draw it, them, whatever, to a specific spot. And I waited for something to happen.
And waited. And waited.
Hours went by, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I was beginning to think that maybe, somehow, it had been a mouse that had gotten into my trash. And maybe the marks really were just bug bites. Maybe this school was making me crazy and paranoid.
And then, right as the clock on the wall ticked to three am, the noise began. It could have been mistaken for bugs–flies, maybe, or a few small bees–if I wasn’t listening closely. But the sound of wings flapping was unmistakable. Tiny wings, but definitely not bugs.
I sat up quickly, turning towards my desk as I put the mood ring in front of my eye, and I saw them.
I thought they were little birds, at first. They were about the size of hummingbirds. But the longer I looked, the more sure I became that they were not birds. They’re bodies were long and spiraled, almost lizard-like but also nothing like that. More skeletal. I could swear that there were places where pieces of their body weren’t connected to the rest of them, and yet they moved like a whole creature. Their legs looked mangled and twisted, like there was no way they could support their bodies. Their wings were translucent, somehow both clear and every single color all at once.
There were about ten of them, I think, all tearing into the bag of chips, flying around it as they took pieces off.
I spent the rest of the night in the building’s common room.
The next morning I called maintenance, but they were no help, just giving me basic instructions for any kind of pest. I tried following what they said by not leaving any food in my room the next night. But in the morning there were only more marks on my arms, and they had torn through my backpack. I tried calling maintenance back, but they stopped answering my calls.
Like I said, that was two weeks ago, and still no one has been able to help me with my little infestation. I’ve been sleeping in the common room. I leave a bag of potato chips on my desk so they don’t destroy anything else.
I went to my RA, and they told me to write a letter explaining my situation and they would deliver it. I don’t know who they’re delivering it to, but I guess it’s whoever is reading this. So, please, whoever you are, can you do something about these things? I need my room back.
Summary: Eggsy, Roxy, and (Y/N) run into trouble on their first mission together, forcing them to abandon their ‘in and out’ protocol. Will (Y/N)’s plan succeed? Will Egsy manage to steal (Y/N)’s heart??? dUN DUN DUNNNNN
A/N: Ah, the smell of you all hating me because it took me so long to finish it. Don’t worry though, it’s like double the length of the previous parts (as an apology for my lazy ass). But here it is, folks! Hope you like the ending to the cute mini series xx
You quickly entered the party, no longer dazed and fake-drunk. You manage to keep a well-paced stride as you walked through the crowd, even shooting a few people some smiles. You recognised these kids as heirs and children of large company owners—from the times you’ve secretly flipped through trashy magazines.
“We really don’t appreciate people interfering with our business,” you heard through your earpiece, seeing the young man Eggsy was talking to earlier through the small screen on your glasses.
“Business?” Roxy scoffed. “You mean theft?”
You let out a little gasp when you heard a slap. Eggsy quickly turned to his partner, his glasses almost falling off.
Your eyes went dark. “That little mother—“
“Touch her again, Mate. I’ll chop your dick off.” Eggsy growled. It was far from the usual cheeky tone that he usually had in his voice.
You quickly walked to the sculpture, deciding that Eggsy could handle the situation. This was supposed to be an an easy in and out mission. You really didn’t need any damage tonight.
“I can do what I want with your little bitch. Let me remind you, you’re the one that’s tied up.” the guy smirked at Eggsy, inches away from his face.
“Eggsy!” you whisper-yelled under your breath, sensing that he was about to snap. “Not worth it. We don’t need to cause anymore disturbance.”
“I agree. Roxy, you already left Rose fairly confused. She’s been looking for you for the last five minutes non-stop.” Merlin teased.
“Merlin, can I have identification of all the thieves?” you asked, deciding to take Roxy out of her blushing misery.
“Here,” Merlin whispered under his breath. You could picture him biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes transfixed on his screen.
Almost instantly, pictures of four people showed up on your feed. You quickly identified them as the group of teens chatting with Rose right in front of the sculpture. As Merlin said, Rose looked a little distracted.
He heard the rumors, the speculations. He would walk through the office and listen as his co-workers came up with increasingly ridiculous stories about who he was or where he came from.
He didn’t think he was particularly odd; Arlo in accounting wore a bullet around his neck, and Mateo in Human Resources had ironically slept with nearly everyone in the company. He was just…reserved. Perhaps it was the unknown that kept the employees talking.
Everyday, he came to work, quietly sat in his cubicle, and did his job. His managers loved him, as he didn’t cause trouble and did what he was told. He would go home when his tasks were completed, sit at a table set for two, and stare forlornly at the empty plate as he ate his own meal. He would go to bed, hug the pillow that had long lost the comforting scent, and fall asleep to be lost in dreams where everything was as it should be. And then the day would begin again.