this has been in my drafts since yesterday and i keep staring at it

Star Child

Characters: Shinsou Hitoshi, female reader

Word Count: 1585

Summary: Nothing is the same after his quirk manifests and others began to realize what he’s able to do. With no guarantee that they won’t be next, the people he once called friends turn a blind eye to his calls as he’s left in the dark only to watch as others laugh and play. After receiving a gold star sticker for his perfect score on a spelling test, another student takes note to the shine in his eyes and decides to do something about it. An odd friendship is born from their unusual first encounter as the now aged Shinsou recalls a specially fond memory.

A/N: This piece is heavily inspired by @calmeremerald and @keiid art! It was far too good for me to resist writing a little something. I can’t wait for when this tired child becomes a hero ;A; And I’m still waiting for Aizawa to train him gdi

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INK | Gladio x Female OC

4,745 words | HEAVY NSFW

This imagine has been kicking around in my head since I first started playing FFXV, so I’m happy to get this out. As usual will post to my AO3 account, too. And now to take a cold shower.

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Sex After Children

A/N from Aug 2016: Based off of this article. Also, I’ve had four beers. Don’t judge me. And this is basically all vague sex.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A/N from June 2017: Holy shit. I just found this in my drafts. Yay for posting crap almost a year after you originally intended to, right? :/

Shower Sex

They have 10 minutes. That’s it. That’s all they ever have anymore, quite frankly, but it’s been a while since they’ve had even that so as soon as Cas steps under the spray, Dean crowds him up against the slick tile wall and mutters a low, “Hey, babe.” in Cas’ ear.

Cas grips Dean’s biceps, smiles into the words. “We don’t have much time,” he points out. Dean kisses at the man’s jaw, bites the side of his chin gently, and wraps an arm low around Cas’ back.

“Don’t need a lot of time.” He mutters. He reaches down, grips Cas in a tight fist, and smiles when Castiel gasps.  

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“Shiver” - Kurt/Blaine

from a one-word prompt: “shiver”

Inspired by the recent weather (if you live in the northeast quarter of the States like Kurt and Blaine), here is some silly/smutty/sappy winter Fluff – in which Blaine wants to play, Kurt wants to stay in bed, and everyone manages to get what they want.

1770 words | AO3

Kurt startles awake at the sound of the wind whipping against the bedroom window, groggily blinking his eyes open with a disgruntled little whine. He’s alone in the bed, though he distinctly remembers falling asleep with a husband-shaped heating pad in his arms. “Blaine?”

Blaine’s leaning against the windowsill next to the bed, silhouetted against the dim gray light and staring out at the heavy snow that hasn’t stopped falling on New York City since yesterday afternoon. His hair is mussed and he’s only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants. “Morning, baby.”

“It’s so early, why are you up? You know we don’t have to go anywhere today. Everything’s closed.”

“Natural alarm clock, I guess,” Blaine answers. Then he hums, pressing his hands against the windows, and says, “Gosh, the snow is so beautiful when it hasn’t been touched yet.”

“So am – I haven’t been – “ Kurt tries for a dirty joke, but he can’t even piece one together in his sleepiness. He yawns, shivering in the slight draft. “Just… come back to bed, it’s a snow day. Did years of school in the Midwest teach you nothing?”

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kcg4  asked:

Hi Charity as you are an ENFP I wanted to ask you how to do you see Si and Te in you? How was it clear for you that you were Ne dom and Fi aux and not the contrary? You said in the past that you cinsidered yourself socially introvert or shy, which I think is my case and I'm not sure about INFP or ENFP for me. Thanks a lot

My main way of recognizing my status as an extrovert, beyond my need for external stimulation all the time (NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN TEN MINUTES, MY LIFE SUCKS) is that I am not a Fi-dom. So excuse me, while I once again travel into the land of indecisive Ne to illustrate my point; then I will return to your initial question.

If you compare the INFPs on this blog to the ENFPs, you will notice that the INFP’s Fi is often very prominent and “runs the show.” This is also true with real life INFPs, who as judging dominants, have and express very strong opinions. Since they are in contact with their inner self most of the time, they often know what they like and dislike, what they want to do or refuse to do, and how they FEEL about most things. There is rarely indecision on that point, especially when it comes to the strength of their inner moral focus.

While I have extremely strong opinions in a few areas, in the broader scope of reality, I am far more indecisive and disconnected from my feelings, to the point where half the time, I rationalize them out with Te, or question my “right” to feel this way at all, rather than just use them. Something I admire about INFPs is they tend to be more decisive than I am, especially in their likes and dislikes. As a Ne-dom, my likes and dislikes can change from day to day.

An INFP I know had a fight with her friends once and door-slammed all of them. She knew how she felt, that they were dissing her opinions and not respecting her true self, and after she had enough, she was done. And she did not waffle on that decision. She just quit. She made up with them much later on, but only after her temper cooled, and she had space and time to mature in her own way (and they matured also). She knew what she wanted: them gone. For now.

I complained the other day to my mother about Elizabeth of York in Philippa Gregory’s novel / miniseries, The White Princess. She is so indecisive. She changes her mind from one chapter to the next about who she is, what she wants, and answers “I don’t know” to half the questions posed to her. Some days she likes her husband, some days she doesn’t; she intends to give up on him, then turns around and falls for him again. It’s seriously annoying.

Once I got done with my rant, my mother smiled and said, “So she’s basically you, in literary form.”

Gee, thanks mom.

My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds, while my Fi had a little tantrum, and then my Te immediately snapped in and I went: “I guess. But I’d make a BAD heroine. Heroines need to be decisive! Books need plots! Heroines need to know what they want, or at least figure it out, and get there, not be lost in indecision! The plot must move forward!”

Unlike me. =P

Ne-dom makes me changeable. And it annoys me. One day, I might want this. The next day, I might not. One day, I might decide that this friend sucks. The next day, I might think I was wrong and they’re awesome. They did not change. My Ne flipped the situation around for a different perspective. It runs right over my Fi and what it wants, all the time. This means that I either do not KNOW what I want or cannot ADMIT to myself what I want, nor give myself permission to want it. It annoys me, it annoys my parents, it annoys my friends, and it annoys my cat. But that’s how it is.

I WISH I had some Fi to haul Ne’s ass into a chair and decide: NOPE. But no, instead Ne hauls me around with Fi going “Um… I don’t know how I feel yet?”

But anyway, rant aside: back to your question.

How do I see Si and Te in me?

I see Te a lot when I ‘temporarily loop’ in order to avoid dealing with my feelings. I do not LIKE my feelings. I consider them a major pain in the butt. When my grandpa died, I was a wreck before it happened. I didn’t even know him that well, but it took him a long time to die. His organs slowly shut down. I was so immersed in the pain of what was happening to my loved ones, that I cried way more than any of them. But after his death, my Te immediately kicked in. Mom wanted to clear out his house. Like, immediately. That’s how she copes.

So we did. I put aside my emotions, went into that house, and went through all my grandparents’ stuff. We filled a dumpster. I organized everything we decided to keep in piles for the family to choose from after the funeral. A lot of my decisions were people-motivated – my cousins loved playing these games with Grandma. Shall we keep them? I’ll make sure they have all the pieces and put them in nice piles. I did the funeral video. Everyone needs a Ne-dom for that. It wasn’t just about Grandpa, it was about his life. His dreams. His parents. The culture he grew up in. I managed the voice-over, without falling to pieces.

And then, I moved on.

My Si is very poor. I may be adverse to CHANGE when people announce it (and I have to deal with it a lot, my parents literally cannot live six months without changing their house around, the yard, etc) but I am not stuck in the past. Half the time it never comes to my mind. The past flows beyond me. A day can seem a week ago, and three years ago can seem like yesterday. I gaped when a friend showed me a picture recently with 2014 stamped on the bottom. That was that long ago!? My grasp on time sucks. My awareness of time sucks. My own carelessness with time… sucks. A Si-friend recently said, “You should take more pictures with your cat. You will want them when she’s eventually gone.”

I stared at her. “I will?”

See, I don’t think like that. When people, places, things, are gone, I miss them. I love them. I still think about them sometimes, but they are gone. I do not pour over pictures. I do not sit and endlessly talk about the past. I do not want to think about the past. I moved on.

Sometimes, people tell me I should slow down, or take more time with that, since they do not want me to “look back one day, and regret this moment.”

Thing is, that probably won’t happen. I rarely go back.

Unless I hurt someone badly, and never received their forgiveness, or am beating myself up about something I should have done to stop something bad from happening, I don’t look back and regret. You cannot drive a car staring into your rear view mirror. In that way, I am careless. But I don’t know how to NOT be careless. Things matter right now, and then they’re gone. I loved that show, but it’s canceled. There’s new stuff to watch. I take in so much of it (as a Ne-dom), only a few things stick longer than six months.

And sometimes, I desperately want them to stick. I sit with someone or something loving it, immersed in its beauty, and think, “How can I hold onto it? I already feel it slipping away! WHY CAN’T I APPRECIATE THIS MORE?”

Inferior Si.

This is going to sound weird, because it is weird. But, under stress… I start obsessively tinkering with sensory elements. I’ve been editing and rewriting a book for what seems like forever (forever to me is four months, but I don’t want to talk about how this is the eighth draft of the fourth version of this book in two years) which is very tedious, Si-driven work. My Te is happy to help out with deadlines, and charts, and word counts, and I have a nice little sheet of paper with things marked on it, where I enter my progress each day to keep myself motivated. But I swear on my soul, yesterday when I opened the file, my Si went nuts and said: I don’t like this font. It curls funny. Change it.

So I did.

And then I sat there for at least ten minutes, changing the font, again and again, then the sizing several times. I printed out a page to see how it will look in book form, then promptly forgot which configuration I used (poor Si!) and had to print several more sheets in different sizes. I never did figure out which was the font and what size I used for that first sheet. (Shame, I like it the best.) Then I resized the file across my screen, to try and get the font to ‘curl’ how I like it, so I could read it. I cannot read it, unless it’s the right size. And font. And I must edit so there are no paragraphs that end with one word on the next line.

(Are you laughing yet? Is that not pathetic? Welcome to my life.)

Screw inferior Si. It’s bullshit.

I never know how to say this without hurting feelings but… Fi-doms are sensitive and since INFPs have higher Si, they do not forgive you fast.

Think about two terrific insults against NFPs (from future husbands) in literature and compare them to how you process things.

Gilbert Blythe pulls Anne Shirley’s braid and calls her carrots. The little INFP smashes her slate against his head and screams at him in class. She then tells Diana “the iron has entered my soul: I shall never forgive him,” and proceeds to ignore him, compete with him, and refuse to speak to him. For years. Gibert has to grovel to get on her good side, many times. She is super sensitive and her emotions flare up immediately. “You hurt me EXCRUCIATINGLY,” she says. She means it. He DID.

Mr. Darcy insults Lizzie’s appearance (she is not handsome enough to tempt me into a dance – ie, she’s not that pretty) in Pride & Prejudice. ENFP Lizzie gapes at him, then promptly turns it into a joke. She never brings it up again. She’s mad, but more mad about what he does to Jane than his insult. She finally confronts him when he proposes, but not about that. No, it was not the insult that hit her; it was the impression she formed of his character, based on it. And when he writes her a letter that basically calls out her family for being loud, obnoxious, inappropriate trash, she is pissed but has enough high Te to realize: he has every right to feel that way about us, based on what he saw. Once she realizes WHY he thinks how he does, her anger cools. And her mind changes about him. The anger dissipates.

Did he hurt her? Sure. Deeply? Not so much.

Someone walked up to my INFP the other day and insulted her appearance. It hurt. A lot. She will probably never speak to him again.

A person insulted me to my face at dinner a few years ago. He basically implied the people I work with and the caliber of their work is poor, and I should do a better job selecting the material we work on together. (IE: Wow, you suck.) I bitch-slapped him good with a Te-snarl comeback and … promptly moved on. I was mildly annoyed by it, and it certainly colored our interactions from that point on, but I wasn’t hurt by it so much as annoyed. We stayed “friends.”

I can count the number of times people have actually hurt my feelings on one hand. My Te is strong.

How do I know this?

I’m one of the first people to come up with a rational, non-emotional “fix it” to problems. I often discount my own feelings or put them aside entirely, to get a job done. I remember one time, a friend PM’d me after I wrote a movie review and said, “But did you LIKE it?? You wrote an excellent review, but it was so non-emotional I don’t even know what YOU thought of it.” I criticized the poor elements and talked about the good ones, but there was none of “me” there.

I admit, I was a little more emotionally reactive as a child / young teeanger, but Fi still wasn’t running the show. Most Fi-dom children are very sensitive. When asked what I was like, various family members (without consulting one another) have laughed and said, “Your focus was on being a comedian. You wanted to make people laugh. But you were not especially emotional.”

I’m not. It’s true. Sometimes to my own determent.

- ENFP Mod

PS: If you get to the end of this certain you are an NFP, but you don’t know what you do in a situation in order to compare it to Lizzie or Anne’s emotional reactions, congrats: that’s shitastic inferior Si. You are an indecisive Ne-dom.


Author’s Note: Y/N and Jungkook do not know about Se Jun. Namjoon didn’t text Jungkook, he texted the higher ups. Now onto the story …

The violet night sky blurred and melded into the orange-red of the morning sunrise as you squinted at the sun that peaked through the window. You stretched and looked at Jungkook next to you. His eyes closed, but puffy from the tears and sadness. Your only reprieve from the hell that yesterday brought was being able to sleep next to Jungkook, he seemed to protect you as the two of you laid there. But now the morning sun had risen and the two of you were dreading the inevitable. He would go back to the dorm and you would have to live with everything that had happened.

Standing up and stretching, you felt this hands reach out to you, his eyes still closed as he scrunched his face up in confusion at the lack of warmth next to him. Jungkook believed that if he could keep his eyes closed, he wouldn’t have to leave, he could stay there forever and forget that this was ever a thing. But you pulled away from him and giggled as he struggled to search for you, he opened his eyes at the sound of your laughter and gave you a groggy, tired look. Your eyes grew sad thinking about everything that would change, and you tried to find something else to do with yourself so as not to think about it.

Jungkook followed you to the kitchen as you began sifting through the cabinets and fridge.

Do you have time for breakfast? You asked hopefully and Jungkook nodded. He didn’t dare say anything because his voice would crack and he would crumble recounting Se Jun’s words. It was a strange morning, the little touches and small talk wasn’t something that the two of you did, but there was this slow moving feeling that resided with both of you as you stared into each other’s eyes.

Maybe another cup coffee wouldn’t hurt. Jungkook said as the two of you had finished your breakfasts. You nodded and stood up to grab the pot, walking over to him and pouring another cup. Sighing and sitting down across from him, Jungkook placed his hand palm side up on the table as he looked at you. I’m going to talk to Bang PD today. I just need him to tell me why this has to happen. He murmured and you squeezed his hand as he took a sip of coffee.

I hate this. You mumbled into your mug and Jungkook nodded.

I never would have thought in a million years that this would have happened. Jungkook threw a hand through his hair and you took a deep breath.

I can’t help but think if I had just been open with Adrianna — Jungkook held up his hand.

Let’s not bring her up, okay? We all make mistakes, but what BigHit is doing is going too far. He said and you nodded, looking down at the table. Jungkook squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. It’s going to work out. We can handle this. He said reassuringly and you nodded.

Yea, we just have to get through the next obstacle. You said firmly. Reluctantly the two of you finished your coffees and washed the dishes. Giving each other one last hug and a lingering kiss, Jungkook walked out of the apartment door and left the building, he constantly dabbed his eyes as he got further from you. He felt like he was a child leaving his family home to train with BigHit, it was the first time since then that he truly felt alone. Making his way back to the dorm, he keyed in the code and opened the door. The empty dorm was somewhat unheard of, with seven guys it was impossible to get the entire place to yourself.

Walking through all of the rooms, he saw that no one was there. Sitting down in his room, he logged into his laptop. He was prepared to draft an email, when he saw one waiting for him.

Se Jun has been put on permanent leave. We are working on getting BTS a new manager. Please contact me with any questions. – Bang PD

The short message lit a fire within Jungkook. First they take my girlfriend and now my manager? What the fuck? He asked the empty air and stood up. Walking out the door and made his way to the studio.

You were on the other side of town, getting ready to leave your apartment and meet up with another friend, when you heard a knock on the door. Glancing down at your watched, you were confused. She’s never this early. You murmured. Walking to the door, you swung it open to see Se Jun standing there. His eyes locked with yours and you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was like an automatic reaction, a gut feeling that you didn’t want to see Se Jun. He walked towards you and your reaction was to close the door. Suddenly, his expression changed.

What’s going on? I was just checking up on you. He said calmly and you gave him a skeptical look.

I’m fine. You said simply and held the door so you could slam it if you needed to, but then Se Jun placed his hand on the door. Looking at him, you knew you weren’t strong enough to slam the door against him, glancing around you tried to think of another way to get him to leave. You couldn’t explain why, but him being there just didn’t seem right to you. As he inched closer to you, you felt every hair on your body stand up.

Jungkook sat in Bang PD’s office as he explained everything that Namjoon and the guys had experienced the night before.

So just to clarify, Se Jun was the one that was prohibiting me from seeing Y/N, not you guys? Jungkook asked slowly and Bang PD nodded.

Yes, we already have a restraining order in the works for this Adrianna girl, but we have all met Y/N and she seems like a great girl. Bang PD replied and Jungkook smiled.

Thank you, thank you so much! He bowed profusely as Bang PD chuckled. Wait, so what does that mean for Se Jun? Where is he? Jungkook asked suddenly and Bang PD shrugged.

He asked to be dropped off at Seoul Towers last time I checked. Bang PD responded nonchalantly and Jungkook felt every muscle constrict.

That’s where Y/N lives. He murmured and the guys, who had been standing in the office, looked at him.

That little asshole. Hobi spat and Bang PD looked at them with worry.

What’s wrong? He tried to keep up, but the group was following Jungkook out of the office.

If he lays a single finger on her, I swear to god. Jungkook growled as he walked down the hallway.

You stood in your doorway, watching Se Jun with wide eyes as he continued to inch closer, you pushed the door with all your might and hoped to god it would close. Your hopes weren’t answered.

I’m Fine Update #19

Why hello there. Long time no update.

Why no update?

Well…you see. I’ve not been my most productive self in the revision realm. With a couple little family trips and a horrific stomach virus, I got a bit thrown off my game for two weeks. I worked a lot on other projects, namely brainstorming, so it’s not like I didn’t get anything done, I just didn’t get any of this done. Even though this is what I’m supposed to be doing. 

At the start of the month I wrote the new scenes I needed to add to I’m Fine, but I finished those several weeks ago. Unfortunately, instead of jumping into this draft immediately, I only started yesterday. Shame on me. 

But I started, so that’s what matters?

And, more than that, I’ve been productive af. 50 pages a day yo. That’s right: 50. pages. a. day.

(Pages are 1.5 spaced, 13pt. Garamond)

Manuscript length: 75 911

and the word count is on the rise once again

Pages edited: 100/232

What did I do today? Today I edited 50 pages, which is my goal for each day, and at this rate I’ll be done within three days. This is draft 5, and so I’m really just reading through and doing more of a proofread, as well as trying to get the scope on the story a reader could have. A few sections have voice issues, but for the most part I’m happy with the prose. Elevating it was hard, and I suffered, but I think it’s almost there.

The other thing I’m doing for this draft is documenting the timeline. This just in: I suck at timeline. I can’t keep track of timeline. My timelines make no sense. Like the timeline in The Dragon Tear? Sorry. Is that book set over three months? Six months? A year? I have no idea! 

I’m Fine was meant to take place over two weeks, but I think if I count it out, it probably takes place over a longer time frame. That’s fine as it doesn’t affect the plot, but there might be continuity errors. It probably makes sense for the story to unfold over a month instead, and in that case I’ll move the end of the book to mid-March rather than early-March, a change as simple as changing Andie’s birthday, which is where the book ends.

I’m not editing on paper for this draft because I don’t want to read the book in chunks, and because I just want to power through this draft as quickly as possible. Later on I’m sure I’ll do more on paper edits, but for now I want to read the book quickly and seamlessly as if I were reading a novel that wasn’t my own. 

Music: no music today, since I don’t listen to music while doing these types of edits. I can listen to music while I write, but not while I read. I’m weird.


These are both from the first 50 pages, but I made note of them yesterday so here we are:

(it’s also possible I’ve shared these before shhhh)

Someone must have told him. Then again, no one—not even my own family—talks about that car crash and the life it took anymore. My life must be the same as that girl he knew from grade ten art class, the quiet one who took pictures and told him she liked his painting of koi fish when he caught her staring at it. He let her flip through his sketchbook, even. They sat at the same table; he helped teach her perspective for her cityscape. He’d never lived in the city, so she helped him with the details of his. She never said much to him, because she was shy, socially anxious, and even more shy and socially anxious around boys she had crushes on. She still liked being around him, he was easy to talk to. They liked similar books and similar bands and similar movies. They could talk about art together. But of course, he was a senior and he graduated and finally got to live in the city. Then, by the time he moved back, she wasn’t the same. A loss had carved out all the things he might have liked about her: happy but soft smiles, an enthusiasm for tiny things like a painting for koi fish or a new watercolour set, her restrained and comfortable happiness. He still thinks I’m the same person as that girl from art class. We’re clones. Nature and nurture. We may look the same, the ugly time has whittled a different person out of me.

And, after that sadness, some Andie/Kara banter:

          “I was kind of a dick about your panic attack thing.”
          “It’s fine. It’s um…it’s nothing new.” The blanket slips down my shoulders, cold scratches the nape of my neck. A shiver rolls down my back.
          “Oh, me being a dick is nothing new?”
          “That’s not what I meant.”
          “Take a joke,” she says.
          “Sorry.” I wrap the blanket tighter.
          “Don’t apologize for everything.”

Also, it’s art time fam. Yeeeee.

First of all, @coffeeandcalligraphy made this beautiful cover:

AND I ACTUALLY DIE BECAUSE THE AESTHETIC™. Rachel’s cover skillz have blessed me i’m blessed bless.

Also, @sssoto blessed me with this gorgeous portrait of Andie. I’ve already shared this on my blog and will again in a character profile and probably will find other excuses to share it more times, but until then here it is again, because I personally can’t stop starting at it:


Notable things:

1. Andie’s eyebrows are on fleek.
2. When Andie actually does her hair, the girl has waves for days.
3. That sweater tho. 

On that amazing art note, that’s all for now folks!


Bracelets AU (Jungkook) Part Three

Summary:  In this world everyone has a soulmate. The day you are born you receive a bracelet. When it turns black you’ve come into contact with your soulmate–only thing is, one of you will eventually have to die by the other’s hand.

Warnings: BLOOD, eventual sadness, cursing, lots of crap.

Writer’s note: Aahhhh I’m sorry Jin–I know you’re a fluffball I know. The writer’s mind is just mean. 

Other Parts: One / Two / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight /  Nine /  Ten /  Eleven

She stirred into consciousness with the feeling of someone brushing loose strands of her hair off her cheek.  Her mind shamelessly traveled to Jungkook and the gentle touch he’d had when he wiped her down in the bathtub–it brought a smile to her face and had her attempting to grasp at their hand. Were she more awake she would have realized these fingers were softer and less kind.  Her eyes fluttered open and disappointment tied itself around her chest and dragged her back to reality.

“Good morning our little bird.” He trilled, she hated when he called her that so he did it as often as he could just to get a rise out of her. “Weren’t you just adorable? Did you think I was someone else?” He chuckled. “Now tell me who could give you such a peaceful face?”

She realized she’d succeeded in grabbing his hand and dropped it as quickly as she’d snatched it, her eyes half-lidded in groggy annoyance. “How’d you get in here?”

He looked over his shoulder to the window that he’d oh-so-kindly left in broken shatters, sitting up in the process. “I flew.” He nearly giggled at his own joke causing her to roll her eyes.

“I thought I was supposed to be the bird.” She pushed herself up into a sitting position, stretching her thin arms.

He wasn’t satisfied that her gaze wasn’t on him, so he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Why’d you run away from us? You’re supposed to be our little bird, not these weak punks’. Do you know how angry Jin’s been with me for letting you escape–even though I, myself, wasn’t there to stop it?”

“I’m sure you’ll show me.”

He let go of her a bit roughly, pushing himself off the bed and pacing in front of her. He grabbed her wrist to start pulling her to her feet, after all he had to get her back to Jin or he for sure wouldn’t have a future tomorrow. That was when he caught the glimpse of the blackened bracelet. Even though his heart dropped in fear he found hilarious and extremely useful. Jin would be pissed, but he could also be convinced that this would help rid them of one enemy.

“Oooh?” He murmured through stifled chuckling, pulling her to her feet and to him. “Who is it? Who do we get the pleasure of seeing die? And I do say that they are the ones that have to die, so don’t start giving me your smart-ass answer. You know full well that Jin will not let you be killed.” He admired the bracelet under the morning light leaking in through the gaping draft of the window.

She pressed her lips together and yanked her wrist back from his grip as if he could discover the name just by looking at the bracelet.

“Protecting him? Who are you protecting, little bird? What could a weak little thing like you even protect?”

She stared at him, cradling her braceleted wrist to her chest as if he had hurt it. He’d always enjoyed those doe eyes of hers–they never broke their spirit no matter what was done.

His hand snapped out to grasp her throat; it was so thin he only needed the one. His teeth flashed with quiet laughter as her hands cupped his in an attempt to weakly pry them from her neck.

“I thought you were resigned to death. Now some man living here can make you want to live?” He dropped her,  watching her crash to his feet with the sudden intake of air. He admired the shackle that chained her to the bed.  Even they didn’t trust her not to leave–her own soulmate. “Look at the little lovebirds that you are.” He yanked on the chain until it snapped the post of the bed. Satisfied he lifted her up onto his waist piggy back style–shackle, chain, post and all. “Makes me sick.” He whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t fall off; she knew he wouldn’t catch her.

“I promised Jin I’d get you back home before noon.” He quickly scribbled a note for what she assumed to be Jungkook and the others, keeping one hand underneath her to balance her weight.

“You’re full of empty promises.”

He placed the note on the now broken bed before meandering with her towards the busted windowsill.

“Better duck, birdie. It’s a bit of a drop.” He chuckled, prepping his feet on the windowsill before catapulting into open air. She held onto him tight, remembering not to bite her cheek or tongue. Last time she did she couldn’t stop the bleeding for a solid five minutes.

They landed with a thud that rattled her brain, and before she could even get a hold of her vertigo he was already breaking off at a medium jog.

“Jin loves you, you know.” He wasn’t even out of breath, yet she wasn’t even running and was still in lack of oxygen.

“Lots of men say things like that. They don’t mean it.”

“Did your soulmate tell you he loves you?”

She thought of Jungkook, the way he would cast quick glances at her that he thought she didn’t notice. The way he did small little things for her like wrapping her shackle with gauze or making sure that the sheets were fresh and clean. The face that he didn’t kill her even when he wanted to.

“He doesn’t like me very much.”

“I like you, Birdie.”

“Mm. That’s still not my name.”


He woke up with a thousand tiny butterflies cocooned in his stomach trying to eat their way out. It was impossible for him to forget what happened yesterday–those doe eyes even appeared in his dreams. He couldn’t quite figure out if he was happy about that yet.

He threw back the covers and found out that he was so delusional last night that he had slept in the same clothing he had worn the day before. Taehyung is going to notice this and then start spewing his ‘My little Kookie’s in love’ bullshit that he’s been doing ever since I stepped out of her room.

He was getting another headache.

Cradling his head, he pushed through the doorway and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and a couple IB Profen before heading towards her room to check up on her. Taehyung stopped him before he could even make it across the living room.

“Jungkook, wait–she-”

He ignored Taehyung’s pleas and opened the door to her room only to discover the bed leaning to one side from a missing peg and a busted window detailing her escape.

“She couldn’t have done this on her own.” He imagined her frail bony arms devoid of muscle and the malnourished look to her cheeks. There was no freaking way a girl like that was capable of any sort of strength to this level. “Where is she?”

Taehyung handed him a note like it was her obituary.

We took out Little Bird back. Seems she perched in a place she shouldn’t have. Though, to the dear who has her matching black bracelet, I wouldn’t worry since we always take real good care of her. She’s provided to be useful and well loved after all.

Hugs and Kisses,


Jungkook crumpled the paper and tossed it into the nearest trash bin. His face was impassive, his body relaxed against the door frame in thought.

“What do you want to do?” Taehyung asked slowly, like a human asks a stalking tiger to please not eat them.

“What do you mean? What can I do?”

“Do you want to get her?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t even know her. Besides, then they’ll know that I’m her soulmate, and it’ll give them a really good reason to put a bullet in my head if she’s as important as they say she is.”

“She’s not your soulmate–not if I still have the bracelet.” Taehyung flashed his wrist.


“No?” He was getting angry, and she wasn’t even truly his soulmate. “ I’m not blind I can see the panic in your eyes. Just because you want to look cool doesn’t mean you actually are.” When Jungkook didn’t react he continued. “So you’re just going to leave her with them. They just took her back and it doesn’t matter to you one bit?”

“Yep.” He popped the end of the word.

“Spineless coward.”

“Bracelet or not–she’s still not your soulmate. I would stop caring about a thin, doe-eyed girl like her.”

Taehyung threw his hands up in the air. “I give up, you are such a pain in the ass right now I really don’t care what happens to either of you. As long as you’re still alive you can both be blind and in pain from your idiocy for the rest of eternity.”

Jungkook made his way back to his room, grabbing his wallet, keys, phone, and favorite tools off of his bedside dresser. He double checked his phone was on silent before slipping it into his back pocket.

“I’m going out.” He shouted to Taehyung–the other two were still on patrol doing who knows the hell what. He was positive they were going to come home and pass out for a solid 10 hours.

“To find her?” Taehyung shouted back, still giving Jungkook the I-really-don’t-want-to-see-you-right-now treatment.

“To get food–it’s time for lunch and I’m starving.”

“You’re still horrible at excuses–I can hear you pocketing your tools.”

Jungkook tugged on his shoes and jogged to the dorm’s entrance. “Your face irritates me–are we still stating the obvious?” He snorted as he slammed the front door behind him.


Jin was waiting for them in his study when they finally arrived 'home’.  He stepped out from behind his messy desk littered with papers and photos littered with x’s and question marks. His eyes remain locked on her as Jimin let her down from his back. He looked like he hadn’t seen her in years never mind the fact that it was only a night.

He ran to her, pulling her tight into his arms .

“My Birdie.” He whispered into her ear with all of the love a crazy man could muster.

The bedpost of her shackle bumped into his ankle and that led him to look down which then led to the immediate shit-show that was living with Jin. He’d caught sight of the bracelet and now he was never going to let it’s blackened state go.

“Who?” He dropped her, nearly shoving her and she fell to the ground like the weakened doll she’d become.  His voice was so cold, his bipolar switch flickering to rage. When he got mad like this he’d decide to lock her in a room without food. He’d send men her way to claim her–some of the worst kinds of men if he was in a particularly horrid mood; she’d be kept there until he decided she’d served her punishment. It was during one of these periods that Jungkook had found her; all she did was tell Jin that her name was Y/N.

She dared to bring her gaze up to Jin to calculate just how far gone into anger he was. That was her mistake.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes.” It was a desperate plea and a shout at the same time.

“I’m not her, Jin.”

He squatted in front of her, yanking her wrist from her lap to flail it in front of her face. “I know, this proves it.” It was a snarl that landed spit on her cheek. She flinched. He rushed up to his feet in an instant. “Who is it?”

“No. You’ll kill him.”

“Yes. Now tell me who it is. Don’t make me put you in that damn room again.”

“You’ll send me there anyways.” Probably a worse room now that she’s gone and gotten herself a soulmate that wasn’t Jin. He didn’t even wear his bracelet anymore, she believed Jimin actually had it locked away somewhere.

“Jimin.” She shivered at his tone–it wasn’t even a command for her.

The younger ducked his head to avoid Jin’s gaze and anger, grabbing her forearm to practically drag her along behind him. She was going to the room, a different room than the last–one closer to the heart of Jin’s organization.

But he had many of these rooms. Some were worse than others, but they were all called the room.

“I’m sorry, Little Bird.” Jimin stopped at the third door in the hallway of options, busying himself with unlocking it.

“That’s not my name.”

“He wants it to be.” He pushed open the door.

“That’s because he’s upset. He can’t tell us apart anymore.”

“He loves you.” Jimin didn’t even bother shackling her to the bed, she couldn’t escape anyways.

“He loves her.”

The door slammed in her face, automatically locking from the outside.

She looked to the bed.

The sheets were semi-clean and there was even a plate of food.  Jin must have missed her quite a bit if he gave her food. He would definitely visit her later–she was sure of that.


Jungkook knew Jin’s head of operations well enough. He was both the executioner and the intel gatherer of the group–he knew enough information about this place to send it belly up. But you don’t just mess with Jin easily. The guy was messed up, and not particularly afraid of losing a few limbs to ensure his enemy was dead.

Now Jungkook was climbing his way up the chain link fence surrounding the building, jumping over the barbed top and flinging himself into the heart of Jin’s territory. He hit the ground with a solid thud, but he wasn’t sticking around to see who heard him land. He ran to the nearest source of cover, waiting for a split second to see if any guards had made their way to his location–though he knew they wouldn’t. He’d found the hole between guards on patrol and was currently exploiting that in for all it was worth.

He jumped and grabbed the lowest run of the fire escape, using his upper body strength to pull himself up to the nearest platform. He couldn’t exactly use the door since you know, he wasn’t supposed to be there. So instead he jumped up onto the railing and scaled the side of the building until his feet landed squarely in the ledge of a windowsill. He held onto the frame of it with one hand while he fished for his tools with the other.

The window screen was popped out first before he pulled open the actual window itself and slithered his way into the dark room. He replaced the screen and closed the window, trying his best to get a mental map of the place for his eventual escape. He’s literally snuck in here so many times he’s surprised that he’s yet to be caught physically. He’s been all over the cameras in the past–but only when Namjoon lets him know that he should be seen by them.

Now what? Damnit, why am I even here right now? He pictures her doe eyes staring up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question she never asked. He sighed softly, waving away the image with his hand. He pushed the door out slowly, sticking his head into the hallway.

All clear so far.

He walked with a quick yet soft pace, scanning all the doors and name plates tagged up beside them. Where would she be? And why was he even expecting there to be a label to where she’d be.

Really? Y/N here, please pick her up Jungkook.

He was truly an idiot.

He looked to his wrist where Taehyung’s still golden bracelet lie. He half expected to see a black band there that would tell him where he had to go. He imagined her walking arm and arm with Taehyung, talking about all the frivolous things that popped in his best friend’s head. The image was accompanied with a quick pang of jealousy. Damnit, why am I thinking about that now? He shook his head to clear his thoughts for the time being.

This door’s as good as any. He tried the handle only to find it locked. Even better. Things behind locked doors are secrets, and I like secrets. Mainly because he was not very good about keeping things secret unless Namjoon threatened him. He pulled the pick from his pocket and maneuvered it into the handle of the door. This was a novice lock, whatever was behind the door didn’t require heavy preventative measures to stay secret.

Once opened he pushed himself inside quickly, closing the door behind him.

He was met with her gaze, a grape in her hand waiting to be popped into her mouth.  She stared at him with widened doe eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “Jungkook?” She whispered.

“I uhhh.. you know I just–”

She let the plate clatter to the floor, tripping over her own two feet as she ran at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. “You idiot.” She whispered against his skin. Being the confused gangster that he’d become he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She smells better now, and she’s so warm.  It’s like she fits right here, I didn’t know my body was shaped perfectly to fit another person. Jungkook get a hold of yourself. Remember who you are and where you are.

He didn’t want to remember, instead he forgot who he was so he could continue to have his arms around her for a few more seconds.

“Why are you here?” Her breath was hot against his neck.

“I was out getting lunch and just happened to be in the area.”

She patted his back lightly. “You’re a terrible liar.” His chest vibrated with her chuckles and he quickly separated himself from her when he felt heat flare up the back of his neck.

“Taehyung says that too–are you sure you weren’t meant to be soulmates with him?” He teased her, bending down to look under her lowered gaze.

She made a face, punching him.

“That all you got?” He scoffed. “You’re so weak.”

She met his gaze and he straightened, nearly getting the breath knocked from him with her doe eyes and that stare that could see every single secret hidden within one’s bones. It was terrifying.

So why did he only find it cute?

“I don’t know why I’m here.” His thoughts leaked from his mouth without permission and he backed up into the wall grunting at his sudden display of awkward behavior in front of her. She made him so nervous and he didn’t even know why. She was just a girl like anyone else? He’d been with women who should be models before–hell, he’s kissed people prettier than her. So why the hell was she the only thing he could see now?

She smiled at his lost expression. He seemed so lost and confused, yet here he was trying to be cute and suave. “I’m happy you are though.”

“I just–I was just…I don’t even….” He groaned, pulling at his face with his hands. “Seriously what am I doing?”

Her laugh made his heart squeeze painfully. He wanted to touch her more than anything, it took all his willpower to keep his back pressed against the wall.

“Why don’t you stop thinking so much?”

“I shouldn’t be here. One of us is going to die if we keep meeting. So why…?”

“When did it become 'one of us is going to die’ rather than I’m the one that’s going to die?” She was smiling triumphantly like she’d caught him, like she knew something about him that even he had yet to figure out.

“Why the hell are you so happy about this? It’s annoying.”

She pretended to think for a second, rolling on her heels. “Mmmm. It’s because I like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

She crossed her arms–there was no giving up when it came to her. “Then tell me something I don’t know about you? Teach me more.”

Her gaze was locked on him and he couldn’t turn away from it. It was a spell, and he was compelled to answer to everything that spilled from her lips.

“I can sing.” He blurted, eyes traveling down to her moving lips. He was transfixed by such a simple thing.

“Sing me something.”

He was a puppet to do her bidding and so he sang for her, softly in case he could be heard. To make sure he stepped further into the room, sitting on the bed. It wasn’t as comfortable as the one that he’d given her back at their dorm.

“Don’t think about anything.” His voice was shaky, out of breath. She was still staring at him, the depths of her eyes increasing with every note that passed through his lips. He was getting further lost in everything that was her.  “Don’t even speak

Please just smile for me.” She was still by the door much to her own dislike, so she remedied that. She stepped slowly towards him, like he was a cornered animal he desperately wanted to befriend.

“I still can’t believe it

everything feels like a dream.” He eyes remained locked on him, refusing to cast her glance away from him for even a second. Her bare feet barely made a noise against the concrete. She was agonizingly slow, yet the speed she walked was so steady. He wanted to pull her closer, he wanted her in front of him now. He wanted to sing directly to her, he wanted to smother her in song.

She was beautiful.

“Don’t try to disappear.” She looked so mesmerized by him, for once. For once he got to see her acting like he always felt around her. Her fingers reached out to him.

Is it true? Is it true?

You, you

So beautiful, so terrifying.” She was in front of him, slowly melting to her knees. She rested her cheek against his  thigh, her hand reaching for his cheek slowly. He flinched before she could touch him so she paused with her hand in the air, waiting until he was comfortable with it.

“Untrue, Untrue

You, You, you

Be by my side

Will you promise me” She moved her hand to his cheek, when he didn’t flinch she cupped his face in her hand. He let her, mesmerized by every miniscule movement she made.

“If I touch you I’m afraid you’d fly away or break

I’m afraid, afraid, afraid” She pulled his head towards hers, keeping her eyes focused on him–keeping him focused on her. His hands traveled on their own, brushing his fingertips along her face until he cupped her face with both his hands. His thumb brushed her cheek while the other busied itself with tracing the smooth curve of her lips.

“I wanna stop time

When this moment is done

Would it be like a fantasy?” He leaned into her hand, brushing his lips across the fingertips. He made sure to keep his gaze on her, by watching her through the corner of his eyes. He felt if he looked away everything would shatter before him.

He didn’t want to stop.

Would I forget you

I’m afraid, afraid, afraid

Butterfly, like a butterfly.”

Her face was so close to his he could feel her breath–it wasn’t close enough for him. He started to shift forward when they both heard the sounds of footsteps at the end of the hall.

“Jin.” She whispered, eyes wide with fear for him–for Jungkook.

Inspired by @werewolfmcwolfy ‘s post 

AU where Sirius is a former child star just trying to go to college and “live a normal life” and Remus keeps posting memes of Sirius from his glory days in their class Facebook page.

This started as tags on the post, but then the tags got too long (this is super long - so sorry). And this is also sort of for @lala-lady-elena because you said you enjoy my tags and this is basically tags in not tag form - and I saw the post when you reblogged it <3. 

  • The amount of messages that Sirius probably sent THIS KID
  • and telling him that he needs to FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
  • just stOP
  • because he is RUINING his reputation as cool and suave
  • Sirius has put a lot of effort into making people forget about his very unfortunate childhood
  • (not that he was a bad actor)
  • (in fact, he actually won some award)
  • not that THE KID can ever know this
    • (warning: the kid definitely already knows this and is simply waiting for the best time to use this information to his advantage)
  • because if Sirius has to do something
  • he might as well excel
  • but that doesn’t mean he enJOYED it
    • how DARE you insinuate that Prongs?
    • I would never be so materialistic
    • ‘just yesterday you cried because the crop top you wanted was $40′
    • anyways
    • I got distracted by my own personal outrage at the price of clothing and decided to let Sirius be dramatic for me
  • but back to THIS KID
  • who won’t let Sirius be super cool and fly at uni
  • as he studies art???
    • economy????
    • how to be a pe teacher???
    • law????
  • idk let’s go with law
  • and THIS KID only responds to Sirius’s messages with memes of Sirius
  • and Sirius has no idea who this kid is
  • he’s never seen him on campus before
  • he doesn’t know what his major is
  • does he even go to the school???
  • so now one of tho things occurs
  • either one
    • Sirius starts posting flyers around the school
    • obviously they’re memed
    • asking for information on the Sirius Black memester
    • he probably offers massages (from James) or something like that - maybe authentic Indian food? 
    • well Lily sees it, and she’s Remus’s bff
      • and to be frank, she is sick and tired of Remus Lupin going on and on about wonder child Sirius Black and how amazing he is
      • honeslty, the amount of information that Remus has amassed on Sirius would make both the CIA and the FBI proud 
      • Remus probably knew things about Sirius that Sirius didn’t know
      • Lily was creeped out
      • and in desperate need of a massage 
    • so she gives Sirius Remus’s contact info, and she gets her massage from James and then everything is happily ever after
  • or TWO
    • the next semester starts
    • and Sirius is taking this ancient civilizations course 
    • and he sees this super dorky adorable guy sitting in the front/middle of the room
    • and Sirius positions himself so that he’d be able to see a clear view of this adorables guys’ face
    • and it’s a relatively small class
    • so the prof calls out names (I don’t know if this is a thing that happens in uni’s if it isn’t, call it poetic license)
    • and the prof calls out remus lupin
    • and Sirius makes a mental note that THE KID is in the class
      • because he was too busy staring at the adorable guys face to pay attention to who responded 
    • and after class
    • Sirius runs out after the adorable guy (he didn’t pay attention and didn’t realize class was dismissed)
    • and he yells out before he can stop himself
    • and adorable guy turns around
    • and Sirius doesn’t know what to say
    • so he goes, “do you know who Remus Lupin is? I need to talk to him”
    • and Remus has sort of been planning this since he first saw Sirius walk into the class
    • goes, “yeah sure, let me give you his number” 
    • Sirius is dumfounded
      • he did not see Remus turn the corner and jump in happiness at his success like the little dork that is 
    • and slowly makes his way back to his apartment/dorm with james 
    • where he texts remus and then they live happily ever after 
    • because I really need to stop typing and do homework

Alrightly, kiddos. The hiatus has been long and dreary and tiresome and is fortunately soon coming to an end, but luckily this desolate time gave me an excuse to flesh out the internet for all the sadly scarce fanfiction for my beloved ship. Some of these are one-shots, some drabbles, some multi-chapters, some WIPs; all viscerally marvelous. List to be perpetually updated. 

side note: Everything by Hannah is tremendously gorgeous and obviously recommended, but I’ve only added my personal favorites of hers because otherwise she would take up more than half this list. 

Also, my fics are available as well.

Happy reading!  

we won’t breathe by ocelot (647)

They weren’t good for each other.

The Cure for Anything by Ardenne (WIP)

Will Graham’s arrest and arraignment for five murders tests not only Alana Bloom’s professional boundaries, but her ethical beliefs as well. When something unexpected happens in Will’s case just as all hope is lost, Alana must decide which side she stands on – and soon. There’s a monster lurking at her door.Visitors by justjoy 

If there is one thing that Will Graham has learned, it is that one’s mind cannot always be trusted.

He isn’t quite sure what to make of the people around him, though.

Run With Me by TeresaAmaliaJane (1624)

How that scene between Will and Alana might have worked out differently. Not fluffy, but not particularly angst either.

Bittersweet Remedy by Beguile (edgetheow) (2850)

Will flirtatiously changes the subject; Alana finds a way to get them back on topic.

for blue, blue skies by alanabloom (33468)

He leaves on a Tuesday. There’s a U-Haul trailer attached to his car, since the backseat and passenger side are reserved for the dogs. He’d gone yesterday to the Bureau, his first time since everything - the attack and the arrest and the hospital and the trial - happened, to say goodbye to Beverly and Jack. He’d gone this morning, stupidly, to the animal shelter, and now he’s sitting in his car outside Alana’s house, everything he owns in tow and a beagle puppy that doesn’t belong to him perched on his lap, staring up at Will with baleful, expectant eyes.

They Just Went, Unheard by youwilllovemylaugh (6171)

It’s been three years since Will was wrongfully arrested for the murders Hannibal committed. It’s been two since he’s seen Alana Bloom.

Itch by writergirl8 (1155)

Alana Bloom understands darkness well, so she’s fully aware of the fact that Will Graham is bad for her. So, so bad.

The Pieces Fall Together by say_it_aint_so (WIP)

Their relationship starts slowly, like puzzle pieces being slowly put together. But once they fit, they don’t see how it could have gone any other way.

Red/Black/Blue by alanabloom (2746)

Fulfilling Tumblr prompt: Will/Alana + formal wear. Three interconnected ficlets, that steal an old X-Files fic trope of the Annual FBI Ball.

Kiss Me Like You Wanna Be Loved by Tadpole24 (2096)

He wants her to let him go and walk away and not have her heart broken but at the same time he wants her. Will and Alana and the things that may happen in Season 2.

and nothing but the truth by justjoy (277)

Will Graham is a free man in the eyes of the law now.

His own just haven’t quite caught up yet.

Stabilize me by squirtlesquidsquad 

no summary 

My Star is Fading by solitary_thrush (5205)

One of what ought to be many post-ep fills for “Roti” (please write these fics, please, please). Picks up at the gunshot and fills until the brief shot in the hospital. Alana’s POV. Hurt/comfort and poor Will heavy because that’s all I write.

Tell Him More by say_it_aint_so (1518)

When Will is institutionalised, Alana takes him on a field trip and tells him about a woman named Jaye. (Wonderfalls crossover)

you know I dreamed of you by singmyheart (514)

If she’s wearing her prettiest and most obscenely expensive underwear underneath her jeans and t-shirt right now, well, that’s her business.

Lateralus by voxophone (WIP)

Alana has a bad day and picks up a prostitute on a whim, but ends up feeling guilty about the whole thing. What she doesn’t expect is falling in love. (Prostitution AU)

this moment that is ours by justjoy (808)

Will Graham visits Alana Bloom.

[Missing scene from the finale, Savoureux.]

but I still wake up, I still see your ghost by alanabloom (6985)

When Will glances up, Alana’s still standing on the other side of the bars, a serene smile on her face, waiting with all the patience of a saint.

“I know you aren’t there.” His voice is hoarse and serrated from days without use. “I know you aren’t real.” Saying the words out loud does nothing to banish the image in front of him. There is no encephalitis to blame, now, and Will doesn’t know what kind of crazy this is, but he’s not sure he really cares. Sanity isn’t such a bad sacrifice, if it means he gets to keep her.

to seek refuge by sarkata (1410)

Things keep evading Will Graham: sleep, clarity, the identity of the copycat killer…and just when he thinks that he may fall apart again, comfort arrives in the form of Alana Bloom. In response to the prompt “Will/Alana- snuggling in front of a spaceheater”

L'Enfer, C'est Les Autres by Beguile (edgetheow) (1369)

Will orders flowers for Alana. Sartre was right: hell is other people. Mild crack!fic. Post-Fromage.

windows to her soul by Aerielz (636)

Eyes were too telling, too direct. Emotions and thoughts, desires - all made transparent by a glance.

A Sense of Reality by liltrix (926)

Will noticed Alana was avoiding eye contact as well, and though this was quite unlike her, it was a most likely a direct result of their… incident. The incident about a week ago where he kissed her, and she kissed back. More than once. Will/Alana. Oneshot.

Simplicity by RunRabbitRun (1167)

Will and Alana get married and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Unexpected by alanabloom 

Prompt: Will and Alana’s first meeting

I Never Knew I Needed by kooljack1 (3143)

Written For The Prompt: 
Alana and Will are having sex and Will tells her to stop, maybe just with the words or maybe they have a safe word. But either way he tells her to stop and the aftermath of that, maybe some comfort?

Bedside Presence by thoseforgottenwords (691)

She’s sitting vigil next to his bedside, watching him sleep as his chest falls up and down. After this traumatic experience, Will was going to need a friend.

Alana waits for Will to wake up in the hospital.

All through the night by wyestmsiylmys (2322)

Alana’s having trouble sleeping, but don’t panic ‘cause Will knows just how to help her.

Twenty Minutes by MedicatedOwl (3077)

Will is persuaded to attend the FBI Christmas party. (Set a few years before the events of the show.)

a heart leaking something so strong, they can smell it in the streets by siximpossiblethings (424)

She’s a relatively reserved woman. However, Alana finds that she best expresses herself when she’s in front of the stove and with a beer in her free hand.

Rain. by ThePencilProject (1014)

They’re like this corny love story on TV: drinks in the dark, dances under streetlights, kisses in the rain.

this isn’t the cuddly kind of christmas fic you might expect, but it is the cuddly kind of christmas fic i needed to write

only the lightest of spoilers for elementary s4, tw for mentions of parental emotional abuse, i know neither jack nor shit about nyc so pls forgive any bits that don’t make any goddamn sense

blessed yuletides or w/e

Christmases with Sherlock have never been an elaborate affair.

Their first was simple: Joan ducked out for an hour-long dinner with her family, made polite (if more than a little distant) conversation, dodged her mother’s more intrusive questions, and then cited sober companionship as her reason to leave before everyone else. The taxi ride back to the brownstone was wasted in worrying about the gossip that surely started the moment she closed the door, but arriving at the brownstone–dark, silent, halls completely undecked–felt a bit like a breath of fresh air. She found Sherlock in the TV room practicing his memory game, fell asleep in the armchair with the white noise of eight garbled television programs washing over her, and woke up the next morning with a quilt tucked around her shoulders.

Their second was nervous, with both of them still settling into the new terms of their relationship to one another–at least until Sherlock broached the topic of her holiday plans on Christmas morning with an unreadable expression, and Joan admitted that she’d told her parents they were mired in a very important case and she wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner. He visibly relaxed (though he quickly turned to try and hide his reaction) and they spent the day as they would any other.

Their third found them actually mired in an important case, working so hard that she was barely aware of the passage of time, until she picked up her phone to update Bell on their latest theory and found several increasingly concerned texts from her mother and brother. A quick call–yes, I’m alright, yes, I’m sorry, yes, we’re very busy, three people are dead, I won’t go into the details, please enjoy dinner–and then it was back to work.

Their fourth, Joan suspects, is going to be very different.

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anonymous asked:

can you give another snippet of the icu fic your working on? if not that's cool. jw. also you are amazing and i hope you are having a wonderful day. xx

Well my day has been pretty shit, and because I messed up my tumblr theme, there’s no read more button on my actual blog, but here’s a bit more ICU fic anyway.

Continued from here:


Nick spends a second night at the hospital, but this time he sits up in the family room with a hospital blanket around his knees and Harry’s borrowed phone charger plugged in to the socket on the side. He can’t switch his phone on, but at least he could go outside and reconnect with the outside world if he wanted to.

He sleeps a bit, on and off, Jay waking him with her quiet sobs at some point after five. He should be going to work, but there’s no way he’s leaving the hospital. They can manage a second morning without him. He joins her by the window looking into Louis’ room, and passes her a cup of tea.

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