what's wrong with me that i still tag you with man united

Irate - 3

(Part 1) | (Part 2)


Y/N’s curious, clumsy, and has a knack for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. Bucky’s a hot-headed prick with a dark past and communication issues. Both are paired for training, and neither party is all too thrilled.

Word count: 1465

“Can I ask you a question?”

You want to say you sound suave and totally collected, but really, it comes out more like you’re being suffocated simultaneously. Bucky’d decided that you were severely out of shape and proposed going for a run. It was a great idea in theory, but now you’re starting to think the running is more for him to be able to rub in your face the fact that he’s fit and you’re not.


You ask anyway. “Steve mentioned these abilities I could have. What did he mean?” The question’s been bugging you for a while. Given the chances, you should have gotten at least one opportunity where your supposed abilities got their time to shine, but nada. Do you even have powers? What if it’s something pathetic, like conjuring hot sauce at the snap of your fingers?

You’re so busy snapping your fingers that you almost don’t notice that he doesn’t respond, or even acknowledge that you asked a question.

“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You’re not the kind of person to snap at someone else, especially not someone that’s supposed to be your superior. Plus, it’s not even among the questions you have in mind, but it’s just such a pressing issue. How can someone be so angry twenty-four seven anyway?

His face takes on a look that you’ve become pretty accustomed to in the last few days: He stares straight ahead of him, not a single emotion flickering over his features, and you know that he’s supressing an eye-roll.

He doesn’t answer.

“See what I mean?” You widen your eyes dramatically and throw your hands up. “You can’t even give me an answer!”

If he’s riled up, he doesn’t show it, and in all honesty, it’s getting you riled up. You’re not going to back down until he gives you some kind of response. Maybe you can even unlock his cliché backstory. So you press further.

“C'mon! There’s got to be something.” No response.

“Even Batman has a reason to be brooding all the time!” He turns to glare at you and you falter for a moment. “Okay, okay, cool, nothing about Batman.”

Bucky closes his eyes and exhales slowly, then faces forward again and picks up the pace. You struggle to keep up with him as he runs you up a hill and through a trail in the forest. You run in silence as you catch your breath and relish in the cool shade of the trees, until you can’t bite your tongue any longer.

“Are you afraid of bats?”

He halts without warning, digging his heels into the ground to come to a complete stop. You keep going, not even noticing that he’s stopped, until you’re running into him. Literally.

Bucky gives you a look of pure exasperation as he grabs your wrists, stepping forward and pulling you in until your hands are resting against his chest. There are so many other questions on your mind, but you can’t remember a single one all of a sudden.

“Shut. Up.” He growls. Your hands can feel the vibrations of his chest.

You’re not scared of Bucky Barnes. You're not. It’s not your fault your voice is an octave higher when you stammer out a meek “sorry.”

So maybe you’re a little scared of Bucky Barnes, but you’re starting to figure him out. His intimidation tactics are straight from the book: glares, low tone of voice, and the whole invasion of personal space thing he’s got going on.

Like right now. You’re wedged between the railing of the training room’s mezzanine and Bucky’s chest. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but you’re hyperaware of everything around you, and every time he speaks, you can feel your own body reverberate. At best, it’s distracting.

“Hold it like this.” Bucky’s breath fans the side of your neck when you speak, and it takes all your willpower to not squirm. His hands grab the gun with yours, but really, he’s doing most of the work. You can barely concentrate, and the gun feels so heavy in your hands you feel like you may drop it if he lets go.

“Aim carefully, and then shoot.” He pulls the trigger. You’re not ready for the kickback, and the force of the gun firing presses you further back into his chest. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. Instead, he opts to kick your left foot forward. You almost topple over, and this time, you swear you can feel him rolling his eyes.

“Hit that target.” He points to the outline of a body near the back of the room, then lets go of the gun, placing his hands on the railing on either side of you so that your back is still against his chest, though now, you barely notice. Your palms feel sweaty and gun feels so wrong in your hands. There’s a little voice at the back of your head telling you that you can’t do it, and you almost turn to look at Bucky for reassurance. Almost.

You aim, or at least, you hope you’re aiming, and this time you prepare yourself for the kickback. Your finger moves slowly across the trigger, and you screw your eyes shut as the gun fires.

This time the sound makes you flinch, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to know that you missed. Bucky sighs, pushing off of the railing and stepping back.

“Great job, rookie. You only missed by twenty fucking feet.”

Sure enough, there’s a hole in the target at the far left of the room.

“What’s the deal with him?”

It’s been five days since you missed every single target in the training room, and Bucky and you have come no closer to being acquainted than you were when you first showed up at the compound. The only thing he seems to do is be too close too often, effectively shutting you up. Part of you is resentful towards yourself for being so intimidated.

Bucky’s on a mission, and for once you’ve gotten time off. You savour it by curling yourself up in blankets, with a hot water bottle pressed against your sore muscles, and complaining to Sam about how Bucky is unreasonably training (you prefer the word ‘torturing’) you everyday.

Sam laughs, giving you a warm smile, and you wonder why Bucky can’t also just, y'know, smile or something? Show some form of emotion that isn’t cold and menacing?

“He’s a tough one,” Sam says.

“How do you even put up with him?” You throw your hands up in exasperation to prove your point, but regret it immediately as pain flares up your sore arms. Sam laughs again.

“Steve trusts him. I trust Steve.”

Steve must be some kind of altruistic hero if everyone seems to like him so much, and if he can handle someone like Bucky. You’ve seen him around a few times here and there, and he always passes you a small smile, but he never seems to have time to stop and talk, and his face is constantly riddled with stress. Not the life you want to live.

“Anyway,” Sam continues. “When Wanda gets back, she’ll probably take over for him. She’s enhanced too, so she’ll make a better trainer in your case.”

There’s that word again. Enhanced. You’ve tried every possible thing you can think of: snapping your fingers, all the possible hand movements you’ve seen in the movies and that the gaps in your memory let you recall, but nothing. (The memory thing is a whole other issue that should keep you up at night, but by the time you go to bed, Bucky’s exhausted you to the point where you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone think). The whole situation is so muddled, and it ignites this panic in your stomach that you’re trying to diminish by not thinking about it. Your thoughts flash back to the words Bucky had said when he was first assigned to train with you.

“He said I can’t be trusted,” you say, turning to face Sam. You wince at the soreness of your muscles, then look at Sam expectantly. “Is it– are there enhanced people–,” the word sounds weird in your mouth. “Am I dangerous?”

Sam frowns. “I don’t think,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts. “He was probably talking about himself, not you.”

It’s your turn to be confused, but before you have a chance to ask him what he means, Steve rushes into the room, a pained look on his face.

“Sam, I–”

Sam stands up. “Hey man, what’s wrong?”

Steve’s entire body is tense as he looks between the two of you, then he sighs, putting his head in his hands.

“It’s Bucky. He’s been shot.”

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Morning Coffee.

previously titled “Plot Twist.”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer sees the reader every morning at the coffee shop. One day while they’re both in there someone attempts an armed robbery, but to Spencer’s surprise the reader pulls her own gun, ready to defend herself and others. Caught up in the chaos and stress of it all, Spencer instinctually reaches for his gun as well. After everyone is safe, he asks her about why she’s got such a weapon. 

anon requested.

warning! attempted armed robbery in a public place

↳ Part One.

Each morning before work, you’d stop at the coffee shop on the corner near the police station. Although you had moved to Quantico pretty recently, you’d been a homicide detective for a while.

And each morning as you waited in line you saw the same man sitting by the window. He had messy curly hair and was tall and lanky, and always carried a bag with him. 

You didn’t know his name for the longest time, but spotted ‘Spencer’ scrawled onto his paper cup one morning and grinned to yourself. You’d developed a small “crush” on him, sure it wasn’t a real one since you hadn’t officially met but from time to time you’d find yourself looking around the small shop in hopes to spot his messy head of hair. Each time you made eye contact he’d show a tight-lipped smile and give a tiny wave. You found it cute.

Spencer had noticed you as well, and found himself looking forward to seeing you in the shop in the morning. He always wondered who you were and what you did since you were awake so early, some days at 6 am, and then left in a hurry but not before flashing a smile and shouting a ‘thank you!’ to the barista.

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I’ve taken some time to think over and process recent criticisms that people have made of me. Thank you to everyone for being patient while I took this time to reflect–I think that a brief review of my behaviour in the past has shown that I often respond poorly and clumsily in the heat of the moment, and these conversations benefit when I give them the thought and effort they deserve.

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embraceyourfandom  asked:

Imagine that one of them is an alien xenobiologist who falls in love with a human he is just supposed to be observing.

A/N: Tagged for violence. And pining. Also, looooong. Thanks to the OP for a truly great prompt.

The Terran’s smile was sunny. As warm and as golden as the G-type main sequence star his small blue world orbited. Phi'l found it impossible to control the tendency of his lips to quirk up in response. He’d stopped trying weeks ago.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Phil,” the Terran said, strong fingers tracing the rim of his coffee mug, “but you’re kinda weird.”

Around them the hum and flow of conversation in the busy coffee shop was a soothing, pleasant drone punctuated by the fierce hiss of the big copper coffee machine behind the bar and the clank of cutlery against porcelain. Outside, the weather, still uncontrolled and unpredictable on this less advanced world, spat sleet into crowded streets. The humidity on Terra was higher than Phi'l was accustomed to, the gravity lighter and the temperature was too warm even in late autumn. But here inside the coffee shop the impossibly rich smell of butter and vanilla, of sugar and coffee and the sweet aroma of steamed milk, of woollen coats drying on pegs by the antique oak door, of the dizzying array of scent from Terran skin, all combined into an intoxicating haze that made him forget everything but the fascinating sapient sitting across from him at the small table.

“Am I?” Phi'l hid a twinge of unease behind a sip of coffee. He’d been very careful. But Terra was a new contact, sparsely studied. Central didn’t know much about the intricacies of the various cultures of Earth. He’d been thorough in his research—of course, he was thorough in everything he did—but there was always the risk of error.

“Yeah, you are,” the Terran's—Clint Barton's—eyes were bright with mischief. Phi'l relaxed a fraction, realizing it was unlikely he was in danger of being exposed. That he was only being teased. Flirting had been a difficult concept at first but it was fast becoming one of his favorite things. Especially when it was directed at him from this Terran man. He struggled to focus on the wordplay, to stop getting lost in the blue-green of the Terran’s eyes.

He pried his gaze away, focused on the contents of his cup. “How so?”

“Well, a fancy guy like you, coming in here week after week, to have coffee with a guy like me.”  

“Like you? I don’t understand.”

“Well, I mean, lookit you. All—” Clint Barton made a vague circling wave in his direction. Phi'l frowned, baffled for a micron.

“Ah. You mean my attire.” Phi'l looked down ruefully at the perfectly tailored dark suit, the subtly silken waistcoat, the fine dark tie. This level of formality had been one of those errors he could have avoided if he had been more experienced with the culture. Here, in this Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York City, New York, United States of America, Terra, he stuck out like a bin!‘ti in a yarm'ot patch. Initially he’d chosen the attire because it felt familiar, comfortable, like the SHIELD Consortium uniform he’d spent his whole career in. He wasn’t sure he knew how to dress ‘casually’ anymore. Either here or on his own home-world.

Phi'l’s expression must have slipped into something Clint Barton found disconcerting. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It's…I like it. You look, uh, y'know. Nice. Good.”

The warm glow Phi'l felt in his chest at the Terran’s words was also unfamiliar. He glanced away, hoping the man didn’t recognize how pleased he was at the compliment. He wasn’t sure his reaction was proportional. Or…appropriate.

“You, also…look good,” he said tentatively, hoping it was the correct thing to say. He looked up. This Terran’s emotions were always so close to the surface, his expression so honest, so unguarded. Clint Barton seemed unconvinced but there was a trace of high color on his cheeks as he looked back openly. Phi'l could smell the heat in his face, the blood rising up, so close to the surface of his skin. Warm, alluring.

“Aw,” he said, “not really. Everyone says I look like ten miles of bad road.” Clint Barton self-consciously picked at the edge of one of the plasters that criss-crossed his forearms.

Ten miles of…what? What did that have to do with—? But the Terran’s pained expression was easy enough to read.

“You don’t,” Phi'l said, with maybe just a little too much force. Clint Barton looked up, startled. “…look like…road. You're— ”

Phi'l paused, off-balance, feeling his way. His last scholarly paper on intertribal diplomacy among the VosTo'kk of Altair Six had won two Imperiale Awards. His efficiency and ability to communicate within the Consortium was, although it wasn’t a word he would have chosen, legendary. He routinely declined speaking engagements that would have funded his retirement twice over, had he been interested in retiring. Why was being honest with this Terran so difficult? He took a breath and went at it from another direction.

“Clint Barton, the first time I saw you, you were actually rescuing a kitten from a tree.”

Clint Barton laughed. “Well, you helped—”

“The second time I met you, you had just given a homeless man all of your currency.”

“That’s why you had to buy me coffee. Maybe that was part of my evil plan.”

“—and your coat. And scarf. And it was 0.5C.”

Clint Barton shrugged, looked down at the tabletop. “I could get another coat easier than that guy.”

“Then there was the time that I happened to observe you jumping out of the third floor window of the Alcot building to apprehend a man who had just stolen a student’s backpack, fracturing your foot.”

“And you rode with me to the clinic. You didn’t hafta do that.”

Phi'l paused helplessly, trying to summon the strength to speak clearly. He sat back in his chair. “You’re impossible,” he finally said.

Clint Barton huffed out a breath. “Believe it or not,” he said, “it’s not the first time someone told me I’m a pain in the ass.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, where I come from, you’re impossible.”

Clint Barton looked up.

Phi'l stumbled on. “You simply…couldn’t exist. You could only have come from here. I’ve never met anyone like you in all of the wor—, all of the places I’ve been. You are a unique construct of this place, this time. And it is so improbable that I would have met you just by random chance that it takes my breath away. I didn’t know that someone like you could exist.”

Phi'l didn’t add that the desire to take his Terran man into his care, to treasure him, to protect him, had been growing over the weeks since their first encounter and was, by now, almost overwhelming.

“I sometimes feel I’ve been waiting my whole life to have met you,” Phi'l finished softly, just now realizing the truth of it.

He realized he had erred, had overstepped convention with his honesty, when he looked up and saw the Terran’s shocked expression.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry if that was too—”

“No, no!” Clint Barton’s voice was pained, urgent. “I,” he said, “you—” Then he seemed to give up all at once and grabbed Phi'l’s hand.

Phi'l gasped. The Terran’s basal metabolic rate was much higher than the people of his own world. The shocking warmth of his grasp hit Phi'l’s nervous system like the injection of a powerful drug, like a wave of plasma that swept though him, warming every part of him, igniting parts of his body he’d forgotten he even had through long years of nothing but the cold adherence to duty and the vast black emptiness of space.

He struggled, trying to keep his breath under control. Fought the sudden impulse to reach out and take more of him, keep more of this, hold him close, claim him.

“Phil,” Clint Barton said, “that’s actually the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” The Terran’s expression was wondering, disbelieving. As earnest and open as a youngling’s.

Phi'l fought to focus beyond the salient fact of the man’s hand on his skin. “It’s true,” he said. “And it is only right that you should know it is true.”

A silence fell. And in that moment, in all of the galaxy, Phi'l was aware of only two things—the buzz and hum of energy of the Terran’s hand against his own and the deep amazing colour of his eyes. Then Clint Barton seemed to realize what he was doing and withdrew. He raised his hand to the back of his neck, rubbed at the short hairs of his nape with a grimace.

“Uh, Phil—would you like to get dinner with me?”

Phi'l blinked, trying to regain his composure. “Dinner? We have just eaten breakfast.”

Clint Barton’s expression showed him that he was missing something.

“No, I mean dinner dinner.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“How ‘bout you let me explain it to you tomorrow night, huh? What do you say, 8pm, Anthony’s down the street, meet you there?”


The hard buzz of the communicator in Phi'l’s breast pocket startled him. If the ship was contacting him in what was nominally supposed to be immersive field work it was deadly serious.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I must take this.” He retrieved the communicator, disguised to look like a Terran phone, out without meeting Clint Barton’s eyes. “Yes?” he snapped in full command voice, only realising he’d forgotten his mild-mannered alias as an insurance adjustor when Clint Barton flinched across the table.

May’s tone was clipped, efficient. “Regrets for the interruption, Commander. We’ve just detected a HYDRA ship in orbit, we need you back up here.”

[[Read more, or the whole thing entire on AO3]]

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Poe Dameron/ Reader

Originally posted by sterkiller

Words: 1,659

Summary: You grow sick and tired as you watch Poe do most of the mission by himself. “Stay with the ship,” he says to you while you roll your eyes into oblivion. You can’t bite your tongue any longer.

Prompt: can you do a poe dameron x reader where they get paired up on another mission but Poe always leaves them to watch the ship (like K2 in rogue) and the reader is sick of it so they argue . But later in the mission while the reader waits, Poe gets in trouble and the readers saves poe. ”Leaving me behind all the time doesn’t exactly scream ‘part of the team’.”

Tagging: @kwaiky

Requested by: Anonymous

Author’s note: We back in this bitch, y’all! College has got a tight ass grip on me so requests are taking a bit longer than expected. This was fun to write and I feel like it teaches an important lesson. Reading a fic AND learning? WHO NEEDS SCHOOL? (please go to school)

What’s the point on aiding Poe in missions when it always ends with you watching over the ship as Poe rescues the day?

Don’t get yourself wrong, you know you are competent and highly qualified to lead an entire squadron into enemy territory and come out successful. You know you are strongest in hand-to-hand combat and have a pretty accurate aim. You wonder if Poe ever sees that in you but there is never an opportunity to bring it up. All your emotions just get stored away and you open them back up as you wait for him to get back.

But once you watch Poe exit out the ship and turn back to you, you stop him from saying the inevitable.

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V ~ Amnesia ~ Final Chapter


I fixed my sleeve collar and gazed at my reflection. Today was the big day. Today was Jumin’s wedding.

I padded into the venue where I stood by the groom, who seemed extremely jittery.

“ What’s wrong Jumin? ” I nudged him with a bright smile possessing my lips, “ You’re getting cold feet on me? You are about to get married to the woman of your dreams. The woman you’ve been in love with for five years. ”

“ Jihyun…. but what if I’m not enough for her? I- ”

“ Jumin ” I sighed “ I know you’re special to her. You had only been dating her for a year before you proposed, yet she didn’t hesitate for a second to say yes. I could tell from the day after I visited you from recovery that she was smitten with you. ”

Jumin nodded, yet his nerves were still visible. Almost like magic, all of his worries flew away as the double doors swung open and MC emerged on to the isle. She looked absolutely stunning. Once she reached Jumin, she held onto his hands tightly.

“ We have gathered here today to unite these two people in marriage. Their decision to marry has not been entered into lightly, and today they will publicly declare their private devotion for one another. The essence of this commitment is the acceptance of each other in entirety, as a lover, companion, and friend. It will take special effort to grow together, survive hardships, and to be loving and unselfish, ” the priest spoke, “ With that being said, please recite your personally prepared vows. ”

“ MC… ” Jumin began, lovingly gazing at his bride, “ Since you arrived into the messenger, I thought God had sent down an angel, just for me. You… we’re there, you looked out for me and my well being. With V traveling, I had nobody to lift me out of the dark hole that I and my company dug, then you arrived. You were the sun on my cloudy day, you kept me in check, and most of all, you repaired the shattered glass that was my heart. You taught me how to feel again. To feel emotions. Ever since we got to know one another, I felt love, happiness, and admiration. MC, I promise to be your best friend. To have your back no matter what. To allow you to fight your own battles and tap in when you need me. I’ll share the covers and let you use the hot water first. I promise to love your family as if they were my own. I promise to trust you enough to take over my cat projects. To kiss you and hold your hand with every opportunity possible. To defend you from others even if you’re wrong. Finally, I promise to put your happiness above everything. Even Elizabeth the third. ”

“ Jumin ” MC giggled. Her smile was bright and beautiful. “ From the start, I knew you were someone I should hold dear. You became my best friend, my companion, my safety blanket… ”

Jumin was so lucky to have her. Apparently I was lucky at once as well.

“ No words will ever be able to explain what you were able to do for me into a full extent. You were there when I struggled with the party. You were there when I lost V. You were there when I found out about the special security system. ”

Special security system. The bomb. I could see Luciel silently chuckle at the mention of it.

“ Jumin Han, I vow to be your best friend as much as your lover. To not question your cat projects. Most of the time. You can get out of hand at times. I vow to tag along to meals with you, your father, and his variety of girlfriends. To hold back Zen from punching you in the face, even though you deserve it sometimes ” MC smiled as everybody’s eyes turned to a smug looking Zen. “ I vow to have your back even if you’re being cold hearted. To brush it off if you spend more time with your cat than me in a day. Finally I vow to love you for who you are. To cherish every aspect of you, and to be the best wife I can be. ”

“ Very good. Jumin, please repeat after me ” the priest spoke as the ring boy ran down the isle, “ I make this oath to love you through all eternity, to hold your hand through the darkness, and to seal our vows. With this ring, I thee wed. ”

“ I make this oath to love you through all eternity ” Jumin picked up the ring.

For an unknown reason, I began to feel an intense pain in my chest.

“ To hold your hand through the darkness “he gazed directly into MC’s eyes.

My smile began to fade. Was I still in love with MC from all those years back?

”… and to seal our vows. With this ring, I thee wed. “ Jumin slipped the ring onto MCs finger.

” MC, will you marry me? “ I asked.

” Jihyun! “ she squealed, ” Oh my god! Yes! “

I could faintly see her hand with the little vision I had left, but I could see it well enough to place the exquisite ring on her delicate finger.

I remember now, but why at this moment? Why here?

” With this ring, I thee wed “

Had I been too busy with my flashback to listen to MC take her oath?

” I now pronounce thee husband and wife. You may kiss the bride “

Jumin tenderly cupped MCs cheeks and kissed her. I could feel my heart sink to the very pit of my stomach, though I kept on a smile as Jumin carried MC down the isle. Once the couple was out of my sight, I made an exit to the bathroom.

” MC are you sure about this? “I panted while her delicate fingers trail down my bare torso.

” Mmmhm “ she mumbled against my V-line and discard my boxers with a swift movement.

“ Oh my god~ “I moaned as she lowered herself onto my rock-hard member and took a hold of my hands. Lacing our fingers, I leaned up to kiss my fiance.

Tears were rushing down my cheeks as Luciel raced into the bathroom.

” There you are! They want you in for the best man speech- are you okay? “he panted.

” I remembered, Luciel. I remembered MC. I remembered the proposal. I remembered our first time. I remembered….. how much I loved her. “

” MC? “ I felt her head relax on my lap ” What do you look like? “

” What do you want me to look like? “ she giggled.

” Mmm… “ I smiled. ” A human. “

” Well I’m sorry to tell you “ she straddled my lap, her lips inches away from my ear ” I look like an alien-goldfish-cow-horse “

Her words caused giggles to emit from both of us. I reached around, cupping her face in my hands.

” I bet you’re the most stunning alien-goldfish-cow-horse “ I rubbed my nose against hers.

” V… I’m so sorry. I’ll make your speech for you and tell them that you had to take an emergency. Okay? “

I was alone after that. Alone to wallow in my broken memories.

She wasn’t mine anymore. I had lost the game of amnesia, in which Jumin was the other player.

Imagine being secretly married to Tony during Civil War

Originally posted by ageofsuperheroes

Summary: Imagine secretly being married to Tony during Civil War. You eventually side with him out of the fear of fighting him, being a powerful fighter on the team. 

Word Count: 2,260

Warnings: Swearing. 

Tagging @queenyavengers


“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” You listened to the cold debate between Rhodey and Sam. You were positive Rhodey would win, him being Rhodey. As much as you liked Sam, but Rhodey knew what he was talking about. You weren’t even sure if you would know what you’d be talking about when you figured out your side, but you were leaning towards the Accords, even with not being at Lagos when Wanda accidentally threw a contained explosion towards a building which killed eleven Wakandans. Something told you Wanda hadn’t being fully focused, ‘cause you were sure she could control her powers. 

“So let’s say we agree to this thing.” Your eyes shift to exasperated Tony in a decorative orange chair. His hand sprawled over his face. His eyes go up in exasperation as Sam continues speaking. “How long before they Lojack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“A 117 countries wanna sign this. A 117, Sam, and you’re like ‘no, that’s cool. We got it’.”

“How long are you going to play both sides?”

“I have an equation,” Vision declares. You were fidgeting with the ring you often kept hidden(despite the size of the diamond) on your finger. Rhodey and Sam turned to see him sitting on his own chair. 

“Oh, this will clear it up,” Sam says. Yeah, you thought it would. 

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark has announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve looks up from the thick Accords book. You raise your brows at him. Um…Well, the team….Think about it…

“I’m saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. Conflict..breeds catastrophe. Oversight…oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey says simply. It earns him a glare from his debate competitor. You knew he’d win the debate. 

“Tony,” Natasha says. Your lover brings his exasperated hand off his face. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve once again looks up from the book. 

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony remarks. He stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain.” Oh god, that drove your suspicions a bit. Something was wrong. Tony wasn’t feeling exactly great. You were the only person who seemed to care, and you were glad you noticed. Sometimes how the team treated him just angered you. 

“It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” He asks. Tony brings out his phone and a holographic pops out with the image of a black boy. Tony turns his head for a moment. “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor-level gig at Intel for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked behind a desk. See the world.”

Oh god, he had a sobby speech that had guilted him a lot, you realized. When you were there earlier at MIT, you started to think Tony hadn’t gone to the restroom. He may’ve saw a grieving mom instead who blamed him. Oh god…

“Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale which is where I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor-guess where? Sokovia!” He slaps the sound of a slapping paper. You deeply exhale. This had worked him up big time. Why couldn’t the team understand? Why couldn’t the team…be more supportive of him, sometimes?

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” Tony took a sip of coffee while walking over. “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, if someone dies on our watch, we don’t give up,” Steve states. 

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“Sorry, Steve. That is just dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about.” Steve makes a horrible expression, making you give a horrible roll of eyes. It’s not the World Security Counsil, it’s not Shield, it’s not Hydra.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good! That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose!” Steve says. You exhale, crossing your arms. You shake your head. 

“What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still are own.” 

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” Wanda speaks up. Nah, they wouldn’t.

“We would protect you.” Wanda’s head turns to Vision. You had always wondered about those two. 

“Maybe Tony is right.”

You furrowed your brows looking at Natasha’s declaration. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam questions her sudden opinion. 

“I’m just..raiding the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?”

“Oh, I wanna take it back now,” Natasha says. Tony shakes a finger. “No, you can’t retract it. Thank you, unprecedented. Okay, case closed. I win.” 

You turn your eyes to see Cap on his phone. His concerned expression….

“I have to go.”

He stands up and leaves abruptly, leaving you all here to debate among ourselves. You swallow. “A lotta conflict could come up if you don’t sign.” Heads turn to you. You’ve made your decision. “And we should tone it down a bit. The energy’s been a bit hyper, don’t’cha think?”

“Well of course you agree with him,” Sam remarks. You give him a look. “I’m not necessarily a fan of it 100 percent. I’m not exactly a fan of Ross, and I’m not sure about the quality of who makes up the panel. But in the long run, it’s a safer choice.”

“The safer choice,” Sam mutters. You throw out a short sigh. “Well, what if there was a family around here? What if there were kids running around the place-wouldn’t you want safer for them? And even without kids, do you wanna come back and suddenly have regrets when one of us gets hurt when the panel could’ve made a difference? You know this isn’t worth fighting about, Sam. I know you do.”

“Who would be having kids in this chaos of a world in the first place?!” Sam exclaims. You shrug, throwing your hands out. “I don’t know! It’s just possible, Sam, you don’t know always what is up with people!” You say. And then you think of Tony. You wouldn’t be having kids with him any time soon-probably at all. He doesn’t wanna ruin them. Partially, you wanted a kid or two. But then there were the missions and there might be one day where you don’t come back. That was scary. That you couldn’t do to your kids. You knew Tony couldn’t either. 

But you were at least married to him before you could ever loose him, or before he could lose you. It was a simple fact, you could be killed. You were strong, though. You wouldn’t let yourself get killed if you could help it for Tony’s sake. He’d suffer worse than he has without you. Everyone else treated him like crap. Tony had anxiety-you only found out a few weeks ago. He’s been bottling it up, and you didn’t like that. So he talked to you and you listened very intently. Apparently, he tried to talk to Bruce once and he fell asleep. Fell asleep. Your view changed on the man immediately. 

“Are you talking about you and Stark?” Sam finally blurts. 

“Wha-no! Can you not see generally, Sam?” Your jaw drops. You had a feeling Tony was also annoyed. “Cap’s going off doing whatever with only a ‘I have to go’ could be a girl for all I know, and I didn’t ask questions!”

“We all know you have a relationship, Y/N,” Natasha says. You shake your head. “Oh god, not you too.”

“Yeah, and what if we do?” Tony finally says. You slightly wanna walk out, but you can’t exactly. 

“Wouldn’t be a surprise,” Sam says. “It explains the freakishly large diamond on your ring finer, Y/N.”

“That I thought that I had hidden very well,” You eye him. Sam was on your nerves, and Natasha was too despite her siding with Tony on these Accords. 

Your nerves are blown. “Our relationship is just not any of your business!” You swipe your hands flat. “Okay?! I’m serious. Just fuck off!”

“Fine! Fine!” Sam surrenders. “I’ll back off.” You eyed him again. You shake your head and head off into your room. You were tired for now. Since it was around maybe four, you decide to settle down really early. You tell Friday to have no one disturb you since you were gonna take a shower. So you rinse down over your skin, cleanse your skin and hair, and you soon dry off. Sometimes, you would shower with Tony. But did it look like you were in the mood? …..No. You weren’t.

After you get out, you pull on a purple lounge shirt and black lounge pants. It was darker, now, and you flop back on your bed. A knock comes to the door. “Come in.” And of course it was him. Tony. 

“You doing alright?” He sits on your bed. You sit up against your headboard. “I dunno….I’m sorry how I bursted out back there. I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“Well how ya talk is part of how I fell in love with you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You exhale. “Yeah, I guess.” You then wait a moment. “And I’m sorry about mentioning kids and all, I dunno..”

“No, it’s fine, Y/N.”

You were sure it wasn’t fine. “It probably bugs you-it bugs me somewhat. Wanting to have something I can’t protect.”

“You wanna have kids?” Tony asks. 

“I-I don’t know!” You say. Your eyes stare down to your lap for a short moment before they face Tony. It could be hard to face Tony, sometimes. But he was your husband. He wasn’t supposed to be hard to face. 

“I understand when you think aliens are going to come back…I wouldn’t want to put my kids through that. And you’ll be on the front lines-you know where that puts me.”

“I wouldn’t let you be out there.”

“It’s inevitable, I’d be out there. They need me-you need me. Sometimes one master assassin is just not enough,” You shake your head. “But I’m not immortal. Do you really think our kids could go through with one of us dying-maybe both of us? Who knows how powerful aliens really are.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tony says. Okay, you were triggering him. No, nope, not happening. No, no, NOPE! 

“I’m sorry-I shouldn’t’ve-”

“It’s fine, no, it’s okay.” You knew he wasn’t okay. You saw it in the fearful brown of his eyes. Oh, his fearful brown eyes. You loved him. You always just wondered if you could protect him. You wondered if you could protect him just as much or more as he wanted to protect you. And the amount he wanted to protect you was like the amount of stars in the sky…..It was incredibly huge. 

I mean like….

You were all he had at the end of it all. 


You saw him, his breathing slightly iffy. “Nothing’s happening, just breathe,” You mutter to him. It was just a gentle reminder. You tried to not make a huge deal out of it since you didn’t need to. Within the next minute, he’s okay. He had to be okay. And plus, you knew very well when he was okay and when he was not okay. You knew it faster than you knew your name. 

“Yeah, it would be nice to settle down with you, Y/N. We could have a kid or two, have a nice house somewhere away from everything-but we can’t. We just can’t.” Honestly, you felt a bit disappointed to hear Tony so negative. You exhale. “No, probably not….” You trail. 

“But at least I have you.” He looks at you with emotion in the brown hues. A slight smile morphed on your face. He kisses you. You loved it when he kissed you. He always meant it.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Under the Apple Tree--ch. 1

Ship:  Outlaw Queen

Rating: T

Synopsis:  After being hit by the Olympian Crystal, Robin was transported to Seattle, unable to return to Storybrooke or any magical. When it was clear he had no way to return to his family, Robin finally decided to bury his broken heart in work–founding a landscaping business, Sherwood Forestry.  Fifteen years later, Robin receives an order from the last person he ever thought he’d see again, making him realize that hope never truly dies.

Under the Apple Tree

“What’s on the agenda for today, Mary?” Robin Locksley asked his secretary as he stepped into the small office of his landscaping business, Sherwood Forestry.

Mary flipped the page of her agenda book, looked down and nodded.  “You’ve got a delivery for 8 am.  A lady in Enchanted Estates ordered an apple tree to be planted on her front lawn.”

“Enchanted Estates?” Robin asked, idly shuffling through a stack of bills on his desk.  “I don’t believe I’ve heard of the place.”

“It’s one of those big, ritzy subdivisions in Misthaven.”

Robin sucked in a quick breath.  “Beg pardon? What is the name of the city?”

“Misthaven, Washington” Mary answered.  “Tiny little town way up north.  It’s a hop, skip and a jump to the Canadian border.  I passed through there once on my way to…”

The woman talked on, but Robin didn’t tuned out.  Misthaven.  The word dredged up memories that were never far from the surface.

Keep reading

What makes you think writing smut for minor idols are okay? Think again, the kids (esp NCT DREAM) acted normal this whole time, like some regular kids in your middle school. So excited for games and foods, playing around and snoring. Dancing cutely, acting cutely. How the hell you guys had a sexual thought about them? Do they grind on the stage? Hip-thrust? No. Show me what ‘thing’ that makes you want to write smut for them, I need the receipt. Other units might have something they do that makes you turn on lol. At least in other units, most of them are legal. But NCT Dream is not legal yet.

Imagine you have a younger brother and you’re a protective sister. If your younger brother become popular and his fans sexualizing him, would you mad at them? Would you say “my brother didn’t born to get sexualize by strangers.”? Oh maybe you will say, “I don’t have younger brother. Sheesh.” I also don’t have a younger brother? I’m the youngest one. But I know it’s really uncomfortable for someone who’s older than them watch people sexualizing this kid like “what the hell man yall nasty. you don’t have enough legal oppar dicks yet? smh”.

just stop yourself and be mature. if you’re matured enough, you know this is wrong.

EDIT: Well I’m sorry if you see this on the tags you are in right now. Report without telling people won’t do anything. That’s why people spreading this. Even we did this, they still write them. But if we didn’t warn then, they will keep doing this. Do you really want those ‘nct scenario’ and ‘nct smut’ tags full with underage smuts only? Think again. There’s a reason why people rant about this in these tags. Instead of complaining that these posts are annoying, how about yall help report those nasty accounts?
Seeing Is Believing (Pt. 4)

A/N: Suspense is buildinngggg!!!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Some language, implied smut if you cover your right eye and tilt your head.

Word Count: 1.5k

Seeing Is Believing MASTERLIST

Originally posted by spn-spam

Dean got off the highway and drove around, looking for a motel. When you tried to stretch out in your seat, you noticed an envelope on the floor board. It had your mother’s name on it. It must’ve fell out of the book when you dropped it.

You turned the envelope over and took out what was inside, it had already been opened. You unfolded the piece of paper to find a letter written to your mother. Dated in 1990, just eight months before you were born.

As Dean looked the car in park, he turned in his seat to look at you, a look of pain and confusion on your face.

It was unclear who the letter was from, but it was clear that, whoever wrote it, did not want you to be born.

“Y/N? You okay?” Dean asked you.

“I…” you trailed off, “yeah, just something my mom wrote. It’s nothing.”

Maybe lying was the best way. You shoved the letter in your back pocket. Most of the letter was worn away, but you understood enough to see why your mother kept you hidden. Whoever had written the letter had wanted you dead, and they must’ve been finally catching up with you.

“You guys, I think I’m just gonna get my own room tonight.” you said as you all got out of the car. You pulled some cash from your wallet and quickly walked to the front office of the hotel. It was really hot out today, so you just wanted to get inside.

Sam and Dean stayed behind, you could tell they were concerned about you. The woman behind the desk gave you a strange look, she must have saw you get out of the impala with Sam and Dean. You ended up paying for both rooms yourself, it was the least you felt that you could do for the boys for trying to protect you.

Sam and Dean met you outside and you handed them their room key. You didn’t say much as you moved passed them to grab your bag and make your way into your room.

Once inside, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag. You sat down on the foot of the bed and pulled out the letter. It was addressed to L. For Lorraine, your mother. Rubbing your forehead, you tried to put the pieces together, you tried to read the worn away letters.

Keep reading

Perks of a purchase

The Selection (Chapter 1)

Phil Lester; the CEO of the largest company in the United Kingdom buys a contract with Dan- a virgin.

His leather chair croaked as he casually stretched with an air of sophistication.

  Phil Lester; CEO of the largest company in the United Kingdom. An inheritance that would allow him pay his way through 10 lifetimes.

Yet despite his riches, he never got laid. You wouldn’t think that, would you? An attractive young man with a national business to his name. 

Guess it’s time he spent some of that money. 

In downtown London, the hidden parts known only to the big names, there was a club. This club had no obnoxious neon lights, no thumping music through the walls- none of that. It appeared to be an abandoned building from the outside, what with the boarded up windows and all. Yet when entered, it was all sophisticated dim lighting, cushioned chairs and glass screens. 

Ah yes- the glass screens. 

This is where the ‘Available’s’ were displayed. That’s the name they give to the individuals that choose to sell themselves as ‘long term prostitutes’. Rather than being paid for flimsy one night stands, they make an offer that means they 'belong’ to the buyer, and are sheltered and fed for a selected amount of time.

There was no foul play here, no danger. The buyers must go through a series of checks to ensure the 'Available’s’ are in safe hands, and can leave at any time. 

Phil had only been here occasionally when small gatherings and parties were held, but tonight he went with a bully chunk of cash in his pocket, and his best cologne.

“Mr. Lester! A pleasure to see you again. Just here on business?” Jack, the bartender greeted with a smile.

“Actually, I’m here to buy.” Claimed Phil, blushing lightly.

“Finally decided to get laid, huh? Let me show you who’s available tonight.” The young man offered while winking.

Phil took in the large range of people behind the glass; all genders, looks and ages were there (all above 18 that is). Yet one caught his eyes. He had short, sharp and curly brunette hair, piercing brown eyes, and dark fashion. The name on the screen read “Dan Howell” and he held himself well, but still seemed shy to be looked at so closely.

“Can I speak with Dan please?” Phil requested; grinning when Jack lead Dan to a back room, beckoning for him to follow.

“So, we have some basic questions to run through. Then if an agreement is made you and Dan can go through the more nitty gritty details together, okay?” Jack started.

“Yeah of course!” Phil acknowledged.

“Okay, so first of all: what are your intentions here?” The young man asked, pen and paper ready.

“Well it’s kind of embarrassing, but I’m lonely? There is never anyone to come home to, and obviously I never get laid. I came in here all confident but now I feel like I’d just be using Dan.” Phil admitted, feeling slightly ashamed.

It wasn’t a lie. He’d originally thought 'scrap it I’m going’ but now he was here; it felt quite wrong to pay someone for sex and company.

“I’m sure Dan will agree, that this is his job. He chose to have this job and could pursue any other careers if he wanted to.” Jack tried to reassure him. It was at this point Dan himself spoke up.

“I enjoy this job, and you’re not being immoral here, so just answer his bloody questions and stop blushing.” He retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

Okay, a feisty character. Phil liked him. 

“Well like I said, it’d be nice to have someone to come home to, and obviously to have sex.” Phil stated, deciding it’d be easier to be blunt.

“Good good. Next question then; would you consider yourself responsible enough for yours and Dan’s wellbeing?”

“Yes, I mean I’m not the best cook but I can make a good stir fry?” Phil chuckled.

“That’s fine, and emotional wellbeing too? Will you at all times make sure Dan feels valued as a human being, and that he doesn’t lose self worth?”

“Oh, of course! I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.” Phil gaped. He never understood how some people could be mean owners and treat their new companion as a piece of meat, in fact it made him feel sick.

“Well it’s all sounding good here. I’ll leave you and Dan to talk alone and come to any decisions.” Jack announced, getting up to leave the table.

It was Negotiation time.


This is the first out of 8 or 9 chapters, hopefully you want to read more. It was a oneshot request but I really wanted to turn it into a full fic.

Upcoming chapters include ‘lessons’ (nsfw) and the growth of a relationship, other than that no more spoilers.

I’m going to upload the second chapter tomorrow!

NOTE: I’m going to tag this fic as ‘poap’ but if you’re only here for smut, block that tag, and the smut chapters will be ‘poap nsfw’ for your convenience ;) 


Great Minds Think Alike

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, John (mentioned throughout)

Word Count: 2,828

Warnings: None, just fluff

Request:  I freaking loved one in the same, and I was wondering if you could do a version for Sammy?

One in the Same

You don’t need to read this one first but this is that is the Dean version of it. 

Author’s Note: Please, send in requests because I love reading them and I love writing them! If you would like to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know and I’ll add you!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom (if you wished to not be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove you)

Originally posted by hugs4sammy

Hunting was always what you enjoyed doing. You didn’t plan on entering the life; in fact, you grew up as a normal child. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It started in high school when a bung of your friends wanted to go camping in the woods where no one went.

You never wanted to go in the first place. You thought that sitting in bed, reading a god book was more appealing than going camping and drinking until your brain fell out. You were always a shy and reserved girl, always reading books and doing the right thing.

You loved to read anything from Shakespeare to fairytales. Even though you mostly read non-fiction, you enjoyed fiction from time to time. As you grew older, you distant yourself from your friends so you could focus on school and get your degree in Creative Writing. But none of that happened because you had to go camping.

At first, they dismissed the rustling and growls as “just the wind” but then they got louder and closer. You hated being out there with friends who weren’t really your friends. You thought you saw red eyes in the dark but when you blinked, they were gone. Everyone there called you crazy and you tried to be as relaxed as they were but you knew better.

The thing attacked Christina first, dragging her into the woods by her hair. Then it got Trevor and Alice, taking them with it to God knows where. The rest of you tried to take cover, using sticks and rocks as weapons against the hairless creature.

You didn’t know what would happen to you because you were a tiny little thing, you had no chance up against this thing. It already took the strongest man there out so who were you to stand a chance? If it wasn’t for John Winchester, you would be dead. He came out into the woods with another man, attacking the thing like they’ve been doing it their wholes lives.

Half of your friends were either gone or dead. The ones that were alive, already left, leaving you behind to deal with the aftermath. The man that John was with left to go find the others to see if they were alive while John gladly took you home.

It was then that you learned that the things in the night were very much real. He didn’t want to give out too much, afraid of corrupting you but you were intrigued. You’ve always thought that lore and the supernatural were always fascinating to you so could you blame the man when you started reading up?

You learned so much that year. You even found a case where it looked as if a demon was acting up in a town nearby. You immediately jumped at the chance, learning how to take them down and how to protect yourself.

That first time, didn’t go so well but that didn’t stop you. You were always determined and soon enough, you got good and then you got great. Hunting was your life all thanks to John Winchester. You didn’t blame him for one second because if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be doing the things you love. You wondered if John was still alive or not.

That is why you dropped out of college and took up hunting as a full- time career. You traveled the United States, saving people and even meeting a few hunters on the way. You know you could be a better hunter but like everything else, practice makes perfect.

Keep reading

Otayuri Fic Rec List

I came for the Victuuri, but several of my favorites had a side pairing I wasn’t expecting to enjoy so much: Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky. I’ve seen some of the wank on the otayuri tag, so if you don’t like, don’t read.

I love long fics (>10,000 word count) and have this insane need to keep track of the ones I really enjoy. Here are both competed works and WIPs that I am following. 

UPDATED: May 19, 2017

For this list “canon” are typically set post S1, “au” is a completely different universe and "au - canon divergent” is an au where one or both are still competitive figure skaters. 

I. Completed works

A cat in a corner by AphroditeB00w [E, 82,800 word count, complete although not marked done yet)]

(au, mafia, violence, slow burn, assassin/enforcer!Yuri, Part 2 of Shadow People)
“You don’t own me.” Yuri spat at the stone-faced man across from him.
“No,” Altin agreed mildly, adjusting the cuff of his suit. “But you are owned."Yuri Plisetsky is a reluctant underling in Yaakov’s organization in mother Russia. But everything starts shifting and stirring up when he starts working with Otabek Altin, the informant for the criminal gods. His once slumbering sexuality is shocked awake, and the careful facade covering his hate for Yaakov is cracked when he learns that Viktor is not dead after all.

a silver splendour, a flame by thehandsingsweapon [M, 113,200 word count]*** Main pairing Yuuri/Viktor with Otabek/Yuri is a significant side pairing

(au, angst, mcd (with qualifiers), fantasy, slow burn, magic)
Fantasy AU. When a magic user’s craft fully matures it manifests in the form of a spirit guardian. Mages and elves bearing these familiars spend a year presenting them to each of the high courts throughout the year’s festivals. Both Viktor and Yuuri have their reasons for hiding the full extent of their gifts – Viktor’s been hurt before, when his own powers were used against him; Yuuri’s been warned that everyone will want his; what will happen when Yuri comes of age, and in doing so, makes two very bright stars finally cross?

A Stiller Doom by Tessa on Ice [E, 68,400 word count]***

(abo, angst, social justice, violence, abo, au-canon divergent)
“It is in vain ot say human beings out to be satisfied with traquility: they must have aciton and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth.” - Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre. 
NOTE: fic is currently unavailable due to an AO3 issue, but will hopefully be back. Really enjoyed this one. A lot of political drama. 

Adventures in Personal Growth (verse) by stutter [E, 23,700 word count for series)

(canon, pining, dom/sub elements, rough sex, read the tags)
"When Victor was his age - younger, even, Yuri thinks, shame blooming in his chest - he’d made the whole world fall in love with him already. The long hair, the soft smile, the way he moved like he had a secret in his skin and he couldn’t wait to share it with you. Yuri’s watched the tapes over and over. He could skate any of Victor’s early routines in his sleep. But he can’t - the thing Victor could do so easily, the casual, guileless charisma he threw like a shadow - Yuri can’t manage it on a single person, not even some moody Kazakh with a dumb haircut whose eyes are too far apart anyway - ”(In Park Guell, Yuri takes a hard fall. Otabek picks him up.)

All the Right Notes by pastelplisetsky [T, 42,800 word count]

(au, music, slow burn, fluff)
Yuri Plisetsky is an incredibly gifted piano player, known for his passionate and somewhat violent playing/compositions. But in order to compete in the famous Eurasia United competition (completely fictional), he needs a violin accompanist. Although he’s dreamed about this competition for years, he’s always worked better alone. Until a little-known, solemn, lovely violinist walks into his life.
Inspired by Yuri’s Allegro Appassionato in B Minor, his free skate song.

the birth of comets takes place on the tip of your lashes by apollothyme [T, 16,600 word count]***

(au - canon divergent, angst, hurt comfort, blindness, friends to lovers)
His second visit to an ophthalmologist occurs five months later.
Just like during his first consultation, he doesn’t understand any of the medical jargon coming from the doctor’s mouth. Only now, after he’s done explaining everything in complicated, convulsed words, the man turns to Yuri with a smile on his face and explains everything once more, this time using terms Yuri can understand.
Yuri listens. He bites down on his bottom lip and he does not cry.

Endurance and Peach Tea by chapstickaddict [T, 11,500 word count]

(canon, pining, slow burn, fluffy fluff)
Yuri hummed. His body didn’t uncurl, but instead of pressing his face into the fold of his legs, he rested it on his crossed forearms. Tilting his face towards Otabek, he looked for the bronze metal. The colorful ribbon snuck into the folds of his jacket, hiding his prize from view. Yuri reached out, and Otabek let him pull the ribbon to bring the metal into the light.It was beautiful. Heavy and ornate, with the front masterfully detailed. The perfect symbol of success. Yuri flipped it over, admiring Otabek’s name carved along the back.
Wait.“Did they spell your name wrong?” he demanded, straightening. Otabek made a noise beside him.

It takes three years for Yuri to figure himself out and get his head on right. He drags everyone along for the ride. Otabek is the only one to go willingly.

From Almaty, With Love by BoxWineConfessions [E, 115,900 word count]

(canon, pining, slow build, slice of life, part 1 of series)
It’s quiet here. Even if the car alarm on the neighbor’s goddamn BMW has been going off for the past twenty minutes. Quiet, even though the alarm’s got the neighbor’s dog howling like crazy, and the neighbor works second shift and isn’t there to comfort the dumb dog.
It’s quiet…They haven’t spoken to each other since that morning, when Yuri went off to go see his tutor, and Otabek went off to do whatever the hell it was he did in the mornings before he hit the rink. “You’re used to the noise?”“Yeah, but…I think I like the quiet too.”
Or: Yuri spends the summer with Otabek in Almaty.

Half a Chance by ratherunneccessary [M, 55,900 word count]

(canon, angst, fluff, slow burn)
Yuri has never cared about anything as much as he cares about skating. Until, one day, that changes. Or, Viktor falls in love with Yuuri, Yuuri falls in love with Viktor, Yuri falls in love with Yuuri, Otabek falls in love with Yuri, and somehow everything turns out okay.

I Will Not Break by kanekki [E, 39,000 word count] series Accuse Me Thus [E, 121,400 word count in 3 part series]

(canon, divergent after S1, DARK, rape/noncon, depression, anxiety, references self harm, references suicide, child abuse, part 1 of a series)
Yuri has been supporting his family with his skating since he was a teenager, but now they are barely making it. How long will he be able to hold it together before everything falls apart?
Series summary: After his gold medal win at the Grand Prix Finals, Yuri Plisetsky’s life completely falls apart. With the help of his boyfriend and skating friends, Yuri tries to pull himself back together.

in flesh and bone by csoru [M, 32,100 word count]

(canon, angst, long distance relationship, pining, hurt comfort)
After recovering from an injury that cut his previous season short, Yuri makes a comeback with a new coach, a new country of residence, and a relationship upgrade. Still: perfection takes effort.

Neon Pink Motorcycle by goldheart [M, 74,700 word count]

(au - canon divergent, angst, soulmate/soulmark, pining, slow burn, past child abuse)
There are certain moments in Yuri Plisetsky’s life that he likes to forget happened at all. The time they were chased from the apartment, the landlord angrily spitting and waving threateningly at them when his mother couldn’t produce enough money for rent. Babushka’s funeral. The first time he fell in competition.He cannot forget that, under the black band he wears around his wrist like a shield, his soulmark may as well be nonexistent.

You’ll Live Without It by HyperionHero [E, 24,400 word count]

(canon, angst, fluff, pining)
“Yuri smirks, thumbing the material of Otabek’s hoodie underneath his team Russia jacket. When he catches himself smiling he blushes and pulls his hand back to his phone. It’s fine, he tells himself. Friends totally wear each other’s clothes…"Yuri Plisetsky is surrounded by love. It’s like a sickness, claiming his friends, his rivals, the attention of everyone he knows. He avoids it at all costs… but what Yuri doesn’t know is that love has a knack of sneaking up on people. Sometimes it brews for years, right under your nose, and you don’t notice it until it’s staring you in the face - taking the form of a stoic Kazakhstani man bound in leather.

II. Updating WIPs

A Heart Beats At Night by magicalyoyo [T, 85K/last updated May 17]

(au, vampire!Yuri, werewolf!Otabek, elements of canon, angst, Victor/Yuuri side pairing)
A lone figure ran along the sidewalk. Otabek would have mistaken him for a motivated jogger, if not for the sinewy, fluid movements and familiar figure. He jerked his bike over, skidding to a halt in front of the runner.

Otabek’s heart was pounding a sickening, dizzying rhythm, but he schooled his face into stoicism as he pulled his helmet off to get a better look.

“Yuri Plisetsky died two years ago,” he growled. “What the hell are you?”

In spite of the world by Stone_Heart [E, 65K/last updated May 12]

(au, fairy!Yuri, soldier!Otabek, domestic, hurt/comfort, war, slow burn, bonded)
There was a shuffling from above him, loud banging noises as it came closer. Otabek braced himself. This person helped him. But…
A pale face peered over the stairs, looking at him. He blinked back. Those eyes… bright green and ferocious. Those eyes were what he looked for on a battlefield. Not the scared eyes of a peasant or the pudgy eyes of a spoiled king. No, those were the eyes of a soldier.

Unsteady by otayui_oh_nice [E, 110K/last updated May 19]***

(au, rockstar!Yuri, DJ!Otabek, abusive family, mostly fluff with some angst, Slow burn, tattoos)
Otabek was going to kill JJ. He was going to take the next flight to Canada, hunt him down and kick his ass.
Leo: I tried to stop him but he went and did it anyway, I’m sorry! (link)- Or: JJ uploads one of Otabek’s remixes of Yuri’s songs to YouTube and Otabek freaks out.- Or: what happens when you take episode 1, replace figure skaters with musicians and exchange Victuuri for Otayuri. Aka another strange AU no one asked for.

Wolves of the Wilderness by NinjaMatty [T (M for violence and themes), 147K/last updated May 17]*** see my post here

(au, angst, dystopian future, abusive childhood!both, violence, drugs)
Otabek didn’t have to ask. The young doctor’s face was eloquent enough. Viktor Nikiforov, the doctor, smiled wanly. He shrugged one shoulder, as if to say it couldn’t be helped. He would just falsify everything so Otabek wasn’t deemed a waste of breathing air and shot.
He had two years left to live.
The dystopian future alternate universe in which Otabek, a law-abiding citizen, is handed a wounded Yuri to take care of by Viktor. His whole life is turned upside down as he is dragged into something far bigger than himself.

( bias list? pffft, more like a lame appreciation post! wow, so um, i never really thought i’d reach this far with say’ri?? i remember back in october of last year, i decided merely on a whim to play an obscure character in the fire emblem franchise… especially since i felt like i couldn’t do any other muse justice at the time and the fact i’ve been wanting to be a part of the fandom back while i had been an observer as an oc whom some of you might know by the url of unladylikc. 

true, now that i’ve been in it, i do recognize the fact that it is less than perfect, realistically speaking? but all the same, however, it will always hold a precious place in my heart for it is the first fandom i’ve ever really joined and where i met some of the most talented writers that i had the fortune of writing with. anyways, i had always been such an insecure little bean, that more often than not, i would question if i truly belonged here.

by now of course, i kinda know my doubts are unfounded and i want to thank everyone for sticking with me through thick and thin. like i have oftentimes been saying, say’ri is a difficult muse to play, yet you all put up with that, despite my initial portrayal being a shaky one. well, before i start delving into a long winded speech, i think i’m just going to get on with addressing/mentioning cool folks beneath the cut… though do keep in mind i’m just going off by memory here for this list, so forgive me if i forget anyone. )

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Attacked ~Rafael Barba Imagine~

Originally posted by sherrykinss

Rafael Barba X OC (Kelly)

Summary: Rafael Barba believes he is keeping his family safe by keeping the threats a secret. However, Barba is shaken when the threats materialize too close to home and suddenly everything Barba holds dear is Attacked.

Warnings: Assault, Anxiety attack, cursing 

She was perfect. Her thick dark hair was full of body and was already beginning to show signs of curls that tickled her small, delicate ears. She had inherited my blue eyes encased in long, dark lashes and Rafael’s mouth and a small, button nose was nestled between her full, round cheeks. She was a blessing, our little miracle.

Gabriella Lucia Barba

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Writing Masterpost

Figured I’d do this and update it every so often if I remember to. This is gonna be a masterpost of all bits of writings I’ve done, both here and AO3, and topped with the donation link. For the stuff on here, follow the links OR check the ‘Josef writes’ tag every so often for my stuff :)

Buy me a coffee


Writing Commissions Info



It’s not all in the family

Thief in the Night

Tumblr Asks/Prompts


I’ll wait for you

CEO’s Pet

Reunited at last



Laughter is the best medicine

Movie Night





Heat stroke



Of Boots and Bros



Bro code

Unpredictable Outcomes

I’ll wait for you

I Waited

Not safe for work, Rhys

You’re so cute, Rhys


Play Fight


Don’t you have anything better to do, Jack?

Just a little too cold

Just a little too hot

Still Handsome, Still Jack

A hero’s gotta do what a hero’s gotta do

A Badly-Timed Wish


‘Handsome Jack VIP Sexperience’


Me, Myself and I

Very proud indeed

Every side is his best side

Love yourself


Just be you

Moxxi’s Favours

Voice Modulators







Other Tumblr Writings

Jack/Vaughn - The Other Gayperion

Tallest and Smallest

What even happened last night?


Happy Birthday, Vaughn


Jagged teeth and milky eyes - Until Dawn AU

Of All Things


Screw the King



Ghost in the machine

Rule Hyperion

Let me go

Only silence


Not Often Enough

Something’s Wrong

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3


You aren’t well, Rhys

New Projects

HJC-012 - The Tyrant’s Clone

Gift Writings

Jack Isn’t Paranoid

Trust you to get ill


Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, Lucifer (mentioned once or twice)

Word Count: 2,918

Warnings: Angst, reader getting tortured, violence, maybe a little Dean fluff at the end but mainly angst

Summary: You’ve never heard of this type of demon before but now that he’s got you, what does he plan on doing to you? Will you give up the Winchesters for your own safety? 

Author’s Note: Please send in your requests! I do only write for Castiel, Sam, or Dean. I love the other characters but I  don’t really know how to put their character together to make it look and sound good. If you want to be tagged in any of my other fics, please let me know and I’ll add you!

Originally posted by holy-fucking-damn-shit

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” You groaned, feeling a throbbing in your head. You tried to touch the spot that hurt but realized you were chained to something because your arms could only go out so far. You groaned, tossing your head to the side, hoping that this was all a dream.

You felt weak, battered, bruised. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and you took in your surroundings: brick walls, a bad stench in the air, and one light hanging from the ceiling. You couldn’t see in front of you because a man blocked that view. Your eyes traveled up the individual and landed on onyx eyes. You rolled your eyes and sagged, knowing that you have been captured.

“I’m guessing you want something from me.” You weren’t going to be weak and vulnerable in front of a demon. That’s what they want and you weren’t going to give it to him.

“Straight to the point. I like you and that’s why I haven’t killed you yet.” The demon snarled.

“No, you haven’t killed me because I’m still valuable. You’re not going to get to the Winchesters if that’s who you’re after.” You held your head up high.

“Smart. Why don’t you tell me where they are and I’ll let you go?” The demon leaned down and put his face close to yours. You stared into his eyes but didn’t answer him. All you did was spit in his face.

“Go to hell.” Instantly, that earned you a slap in the face. You groaned at the impact but the demon had other plans in his mind for you he grabbed your chin and yanked you close to him.

“Been there, sweetheart and when I’m done with you, you’ll be the one to go to hell.” He let go of you harshly and stood up to his full height.

You smirked and looked up at him. “Been there, done that.” You went to hell with Dean when he went. It wasn’t pleasant and he was the one who was raised first so you were stuck down there for a lot longer than he was before he rescued you. The demon turned on his heel, apparently done with you for right now but you weren’t done with him.

“If you think Sam and Dean will come for me, you’re wrong.” The demon stopped and turned around.

“I beg to differ.” That was all he said before leaving the cell. You sighed and looked around you.

Castiel, please, if you can hear me, I don’t know where I am but a demon captured me. Tell Sam and Dean not to look for me. That’s what he wants and I don’t want Dean getting hurt. I don’t want them getting hurt because of me.

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Your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams (Part One)

Summary: Inception crossover/AU. Dreamsharing is digging through the mind, through the deepest, darkest secrets that should stay locked up tight, never to see the light of day. And the Winchesters—well, no secret is safe from them.

Word Count:  1,575

Characters: Dean, Sam, John, Ruby; Dean-centric

Warning: Mentions or torture, cannon-typical violence, invasion of another’s mind, non-linear timlines 

Author’s Note: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Kari’s Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt/inspiration was the movie Inception, which is also one of my favorite movies. If you haven’t seen Inception or need a reminder, I made a primer, which you can find here

The title is from Acts 2:17. I’ve never been this nervous about a piece before, so please give me some feedback! Thanks to @stori-teller for the beta!

Originally posted by chinmayee190

In a dream, pain is all in the mind. Dean knows this—it’s one of the first lessons his father taught him—but it doesn’t matter because pain feels real when it happens. When the projections get him—because it is only a matter of time at this rate—they’ll tear him apart and he’ll wake up in his worn lawn chair, wracked with pain and an entirely whole body.  He’s already feeling a dislocated shoulder; blood flows from a large hole in the other shoulder, but he tries to ignore that, too. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t real; what matters is that he feels all of it.

So he runs.

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Since the mid to late eighties, an unusual phenomenon had been noticed: people who had never served in the military were declaring themselves to be Vietnam veterans, and real veterans were claiming to have served with elite units to enhance their service.
One study noted that while thirty-five hundred soldiers were said to have served as LRRP/ Rangers over the course of the war, more than five thousand veterans have since claimed to have served in LRRP/ Ranger units.
So it was no surprise when attendees to the weekend event showed up with hats, berets, T-shirts, and uniform jackets bearing logos or patches of elite units. There were also a few attendees dressed in battle-dress uniforms of foreign military units, including those of the French Foreign Legion.
Behind the Lines magazine, the journal of U.S. Military Special Operations, had set up a booth at the show, and its executive editor, Gary Linderer, had invited its editors and contributors to attend. Among those at the booth during the long weekend were Gary Linderer, Kenn Miller, Reynel Martinez, Larry Chambers, Greg Walker, Doc Norton—all veterans who’d served in elite units—and others who were talking with veterans, answering questions, telling war stories, or signing their books.
As the magazine’s “humorist,” I was there as well, looking for unusual stories.
One advantage of events like that is that I knew I wouldn’t have to search very hard to find them. That time I was lucky because the story came to me.
“Magazine, huh?” one visitor asked, stopping in front of the table and checking out the booth and staring at a stack of back issues of Behind the Lines.
"Yes, we are,” I said. “Here! Take a complimentary copy.” I handed him one.
Linderer and Martinez were taking a coffee break while Kenn Miller and I manned the booth. However, much of Miller’s attention was taken up by a Taiwanese film crew whose members were surprised and pleased to find an American who was able to answer their questions in their native tongue. Two of them, in fact; Miller is fluent in several Chinese dialects.
"What do you do at the magazine?” the visitor asked, studying my name tag. “A senior editor,” I said, “which just means I’m old. You a vet?”
"Nam,” he replied. I nodded. He was overweight and balding and wore what hair remained in a ponytail beneath a battered green beret.
"Special Forces, huh?” I said. This time he nodded. “You with the Group or SOG?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Green berets,” he said.
I sighed. He was dressed in jeans, frayed jungle boots, a T-shirt that read HONK IF YOU’RE HORNY, and a jungle fatigue shirt with a variety of patches sewn on the sleeves. There were two colorful rows of combat ribbons that said he had seen combat but that he didn’t know which order it came in. That was his first mistake. The red-white-and-blue-striped Silver Star award was placed after an Air Medal, below a Purple Heart, and next to a Good Conduct Medal. His Silver Star award also had a V device indicating that the award was for valor, which was another mistake, because the Silver Star is awarded for gallantry, which in the military scope of things ranks a step above valor. It is not awarded with a V device. A blue-and-white Combat Infantryman’s Badge was pinned just above the ribbons with a flat silver oblong badge. The flat badge had a triangle in its center, and I didn’t recognize it at first. Then I smiled seconds later, realizing that I had seen it on the uniforms of the officers who manned the bridge on the television series Star Trek, either generation. The combat patch on his right sleeve was an olive drab subdued MAC-V insignia, while a Special Forces arrowhead patch was sewn on the left sleeve. On one shirt jacket pocket was a death’s-head skull; an ace of spades was sewn on the opposite pocket. A number of Vietnam War–related pins were spread out across the pocket flaps and lapels like shrapnel from an exploding surplus store, but it was his green beret that caught most of my attention. The weathered beret had a Special Forces insignia, a French paracommando crest, and the flat-black rank pin of a Marine lance corporal. The crests, patches, other insignia, and beret were an unusual mix of services, units, and time warps.
It was happening again.
Earlier that morning while Linderer, Miller, and I were seated at the table at the booth, a man approached wearing an army fatigue shirt with a generic 75th Infantry Ranger scroll on the right shoulder as a combat patch. Since there wasn’t a division or field force patch beneath it, there was no way of knowing which company he had served in during the war.
"I was a Ranger in Nam,” he said. Linderer and Miller looked up.
"Who were you with?” asked Linderer, meaning which unit and where. It was the standard greeting ritual veterans go through with other veterans to establish common ground and a bond.
"The Second Batt,” said the man. “The Second Batt” meant the 2d Ranger Battalion. Linderer smiled. Miller, on the other hand, was sneering, as I pointed out that there wasn’t a 2d Ranger Battalion in Vietnam.
"In fact, the battalions didn’t exist back then, just companies,” Linderer added, smiling.
Miller smiled, too, but it was the deranged grin of a pit bull sizing up a poodle. “You worthless piece of shit! I ought to cut your legs off,” he said, with as much diplomacy as he could muster.
Kenn Miller is one of only a handful of LRRP/ Rangers to have served two and a half years with the 101st Airborne in behind-the-lines combat. He has little patience for “wanna-be” elite combat veterans and a pathological disgust for those who’d wear a 75th Ranger combat patch pretending to have earned it.
Linderer was still shaking his head in disgust as the make-believe LRRP/ Ranger veteran quickly excused himself, realizing that he had somewhere else to be.
Throughout the previous evening and much of that morning, we had encountered other such “make-believe” veterans, including a French Foreign Legionnaire who couldn’t speak French, a navy SEAL or two who couldn’t remember which team they served with, and other pretend Rangers who wore the 75th Ranger scroll company patch over the wrong division or field force patch.
—  “Very Crazy, G.I.! Strange but True Stories of the Vietnam War,” by Kregg P. Jorgensen
Enjolras x Grantaire Fic Recs

Updated. I have read so much Les Mis fic in the last year it’s not funny. I just fell headfirst into this fandom. Oops. I decided I really need to make a list of all the fics I loved. 

After The End by tellthemstories 74,702 Grantaire’s life goes to hell at 5pm on a Saturday evening. Which is actually kind of ironic, really, seeing as how the rest of the world went to hell almost seven years earlier.

Best Kept Secrets by tellthemstories 33,338 Cosette is coming to visit. Enjolras needs a fake boyfriend he can date and then break up with, so she’ll stop trying to set him up with random guys. Somehow, he ends up pretending to date Grantaire. It goes better than expected — Until it doesn’t.

box of secrets by nightswatch 53,816 Grantaire leaves his doodles all over the place. Enjolras collects them without knowing who drew them.

But I See You by RavenXavier 38, 618 It’s not easy being a Seer in the modern times, especially when they are so many of them promising you happiness and good fortune at every corner of the street. Contrary to most though, Grantaire is the True Deal, which means that not only does she get a lot of visions (that aren’t always nice), she also needs an Anchor, otherwise she’ll end up mad.It’s not until she begins to run out of time that she actually meets hers.     Unfortunately, her Anchor is a passionate blond activist that doesn’t believe in Seers or Fate, and doesn’t have time to take care of a woman she barely knows and doesn’t like much (especially as she has some personal problems of her own to deal with).

Commonwealth Gaymes by Pepperweb 35, 118 Inspired by the 2014 Glasgow Commonwealth Games. Grantaire is a boxer and Enjolras a gymnast but Enjolras doesnt think boxing should be allowed and Grantaire thinks gymnastics is too fluffy to be real. What happens when they take up Combeferre’s challenge and see each other compete? 

Cooking Up Love by sarahyyy 14,259 

“I really hate elimination challenges,” Enjolras says with a sigh. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Grantaire says dryly, grinning at him.

(Or, the MasterChef AU.)

dance this silence down (the emergency room remix) by fahye 54,233

He’s sitting in a car with all of his belongings in the back seat and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, admitting to himself that a stupid, dizzy firework of a one-night-stand with a man he’d barely known is one of the only bright memories he has right now.

[In which Enjolras and Grantaire make some music, make some terrible decisions, and make a habit out of doing everything in the wrong order.]

Darker, Sooner by HailMary 54,571. Grantaire is offered a choice: either become the government’s mole in the Friends of the ABC or suffer the consequences. He chooses to be a mole.

Gnomon by luchia 75,387 Enjolras is the leader of the ‘militant extremist organization’ ABC, and he and his human shadow Grantaire are somewhere in Russia doing shit that Grantaire can’t even try to explain - Enjolras is acting strange and something Grantaire can’t name has gone horribly wrong and christ he should not be sober right now.

Grounds For Dismissal by The Librarina (tears_of_nienna) 12,312 Enjolras does not have time to deal with a new barista this morning.

How the Future’s Done by barricadeur 12,212 

“Grantaire,” he says slowly. “What do you have in that box?”

Grantaire looks up at Enjolras, his eyes very blue even with the glaze of drunkenness at the edges. “A favor,” he says.

if you remembered me by nightswatch 40,156 Enjolras suffers from temporary amnesia after a car accident, Grantaire agrees to stay with him until he gets back his memories.

If Vidocq Could See Us Now by leahxleah 33,416. Enjolras is one of the best detectives in Homicide; unfortunately, he can’t keep a partner for long. Getting assigned Grantaire–the Narcotics officer freshly released from rehab–seems like a punishment, but it may be a blessing in disguise.

Pining For You by The Librarina (tears_of_nienna) 28, 245. After he gets laid off, Grantaire moves back home to help out on his father’s Christmas tree farm. But when a shady businessman starts trying to move in on their property, an improbably handsome lawyer from the city might be their only hope to save the farm.

Let Me Count The Ways by zimriya 58,408. 10 Things I Hate About You AU. “So, let me get this straight,” says Combeferre after three rings. He sounds half asleep, and Enjolras winces. “Your crazy ex-convict of a father has decided that Cosette can only date people once you do?”


There’s the sound of movement as Combeferre unplugs his phone and settles back against his pillows. “And you, somehow–stupidly, I might add–decided to make her happy by agreeing to date someone?”

Love in a Coffee Shop by tellthemstories 22,887 Grantaire’s a famous rock star. Enjolras owns a coffee shop slash book store that makes no money and is dangerously close to becoming hipster. One night, Grantaire stumbles in when they’re closed. Somehow, that’s the most normal part of his week.

Secret Agent Man by goshemily 30,126 Enjolras and Grantaire are spies sent to a small village in the south of France to be undercover boyfriends.

six feet under the stars by nightswatch 52, 909 Enjolras decides that he needs a break and goes on a road trip. On the way he comes across a hitchhiker, who quickly becomes a new friend for him on the road.

Still the Same by The Librarina (tears_of_nienna) 74,338 Enjolras caught the infamous art thief Grantaire in his first month as an FBI agent. Four years later, a supposedly reformed Grantaire works out a deal to help the FBI catch an organized crime boss–with Enjolras as his handler. But working together is more frustrating than Enjolras could have believed, and it doesn’t help that Grantaire has started an actual book club with Enjolras’ husband. White Collar AU.

summer’s lease by nightswatch 48,676 Grantaire’s parents send him to spend the summer with friends of the family. Their son, Enjolras, is probably the last person he’d want to spend his summer with.

Tagged by Salomonderiel 155, 786. Graffiti artist AU.

The Con That We Call Love by kjack89 Not even a month ago, FBI White Collar unit Agent Grantaire put the notorious conman Enjolras in jail. Now, the FBI needs Enjolras’s help, and Grantaire has to deal with a con who he may not trust, but may also be a little in love with.

To Dust or To Gold by captainskellington 25,556 A Hunger Games AU based entirely in the week leading up to the games themselves. (As such, no actual death occurs.) Grantaire is a stylist, Enjolras is his tribute.

The Five Year Plan by Neery 16,069 Enjolras loses his memory. Thankfully, nothing unexpected seems to have happened to him in the five years he can’t remember. Well, except for the boyfriend. The boyfriend’s kind of a surprise.

The Ghost of You by luchia 25,127 Grantaire moves into an apartment inhabited by a poltergeist. Enjolras haunts him, and Grantaire should really win an award for most complicated relationship status ever.

The Golden Mean by KateAtTheClose 9,429 When Grantaire’s health makes it necessary to cease drinking, Les Amis are there to help him through it. None more so than Enjolras, who starts to realize just how wrong he has been in his judgements of the other man.

The People Sing by littledust 59, 604 Cosette, an aspiring musician, is certain she’s locked into her terrible recording contract forever and the public will never get to hear her music. Then a mysterious DJ named Enjolras remixes one of her original demos. She follows his digital trail to a club called the ABC, where she’s offered the chance to join the music revolution. What ensues includes romance, past lives revealed, the making of an album, and a protest concert. 

the things we whisper in the dark by nightswatch 30,286. Grantaire is a journalist living and working in New York. When he meets his new neighbor, Enjolras, he has no idea what kind of trouble he’s getting into.

They Write Books About This Sort of Thing by samyazaz 50, 670. Grantaire is an author. His editor, Enjolras comes on his book tour with him.

Transitory Withdrawal by zimriya 21,988 The thing is, Grantaire knows exactly where he went wrong. It wasn’t wandering into one of Enjolras’ lectures on a rainy afternoon, or even texting him increasingly cryptic messages from his brand new phone. No, Grantaire’s mistake was deciding to let his guard down long enough around Eponine to let her take him drinking, and crying about how no one would ever date him.

We Are Who We Are by sigh_no_more 29,691 Enjolras develops a crush on a new friend. The only problem is they’ve never met face to face, and only correspond via the Internet. As he falls more and more for this mysterious pen pal, he starts a job at The Musain Books and Café, where he finds himself instantly at odds with Grantaire, the barista. Or, a Shop Around the Corner/You’ve Got Mail adaptation.

World Ain’t Ready by idiopathicsmile 185,796 (UPDATE 2/6/15, Complete and it is wonderful). High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.

Years Since It’s Been Clear by lady_ragnell 10, 726. Grantaire really doesn’t expect Enjolras to force him to move in with him when he hears how shitty Grantaire’s apartment is. And he definitely doesn’t expect Enjolras to want him to stay, or how easy it turns out to be, or the way Enjolras has a habit of doing his studying in the sunshine on the living room floor…Yeah, he may be in some trouble.

You Dance Dreams by lady_ragnell 61, 252. For most of college, Grantaire was hopeless over Enjolras, and everyone but Enjolras knew it. Now he’s worked to get over his crush, and for the most part, he’s fine. When Combeferre asks him to choreograph and dance in the Midsummer Night’s Dream-inspired opera he composed as his senior thesis, Grantaire says yes, even though he’s cast opposite Enjolras, as Puck to his Oberon. The chance to dance is worth the potential problems, and he’ll have his friends as a buffer.

You Are the Moon by samyazaz 62,129 It’s been six months since Grantaire left the Musain and her crew – and her captain – behind him, but the quieter life he’d hoped to make for himself is thrown into turmoil when a convict and his daughter crash down into the middle his little outer-system settlement.

You Say You Want a Revolution by kjack89 and satb31 Les Amis de l'ABC is an anti-Vietnam War student protest group in the late 1960s, when the draft and turmoil on college campuses force more radical - and violent - actions, including actions that cannot be undone and will forever change the lives of those involved.