#Red Riding 1980
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Red Riding Trilogy (2010)
#rsheehanedit#robertsheehanedit#robert sheehan#red riding trilogy#red riding 1974#red riding 1980#red riding 1983#my gifs#mygifs:rsheehan#this post has been in my drafts for an entire year#cleaning out my drafts
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I am extremely soft about how BJ hunches forward to shield Clare and shushes her. It's not a thing that's brought up in the films, but she's in her early 20s here and BJ had just turned 16 a month ago, yet he consistently and unquestioningly takes the caretaker role. He protects her and keeps her calm enough to escape the Karachi Social Club shooting, he does his best to keep her morale up while they're hiding out, tends to her through her quickly crumbling mental health, and actively tries to find ways to get them out of their bleak situation. All before he's even 18 years old. And he keeps fighting to 25, when things finally end and he can finally rest.
Particularly, though, I can't look at that third screencap and not see shades of who BJ was implied to be when he was still under Rev. Laws' roof. Again, the films don't touch on it, but the novels suggest that while BJ did not have close or even very good relationships with the other abused neighborhood boys, he still was willing to take punishment for their disobedience. So I don't think that it's a huge leap to say that he probably looked after and comforted them as well, and... doesn't that body language kind of look like someone consoling a frightened child? Maybe. I could be looking too deeply at small gestures--there are only so many ways to shush someone, after all--but the thought still twists at my heart.
BJ cares so much for so many people. It's a shame that his compassion was what usually ended up getting him hurt.
#literally if bj cared just a little less and said ''no'' to barry and didn't get involved with eddie and just kept his nose in his own mess#he could have avoided A LOT of pain and suffering. but then if he had it's also likely that the murders and abuse would have cycled on.#*he* just wouldn't have been as badly affected. i'm really not sure he even realizes that himself. in his quiet shying way bj is a hero.#he would never call himself that though. i don't think he'd accept it.#they call me bj [self];#she were loved [clare strachan];#out of fairy tales [ooc];#red riding 1980#the red riding trilogy#bj anderson#robert sheehan#red riding#meta
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Joseph Mawle wearing a fuzzy sweater and being generally fuzzy adorbs.
Film: Red Riding 1980 (2009).
Role: Peter Sutcliffe A.K.A. The Yorkshire Ripper.
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She was astonished to see how her grandmother looked.
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The Company of Wolves (1984)
#the company of wolves gif#80s horror#neil jordan#sarah patterson#werewolves#little red riding hood#80s movies#1980s#1984#gif#chronoscaph gif
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red riding: the year of our lord 1980, 2009 (dir. james marsh)
#filmedit#tvedit#james marsh#red riding#red riding: the year of our lord 1980#paddy considine#sean harris#shaun dooley
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Ursula Reuter Christiansen (80 today) is a German-born Danish artist who has lived here since 1969. Prior to that she studied at the Academy in Düsseldorf with Joseph Beuys. She connected with Eks-skolen in Denmark and later became Professor at the Royal Academy in Copenhagen.
Reuter Christiansen's art is Expressionist and she often works with myths and fairy tales.
Above: Den lille Rødhætte og ulven, 1982 - Oil, crayon (and possibly water color) over pencil (SMK)
#art#danish artist#german-born artist#ursula reuter christiansen#danish royal academy of fine arts#kunstakademie düsseldorf#joseph beuys#1980s#crayon#oil on paper#pencil drawing#expressionism#eks-skolen#smk#smkmuseum#statens museum for kunst#little red riding hood#fairy tales#mythographic art
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scripted desire
part one
summary: based on this request linked here, essentially cooper gets to work his celebrity crush and has to navigate doing a sex scene together
type: cooper koch x fem! reader (i know cooper is gay, this is fiction pooks)
tags/warnings: masturbation (m!), strip tease, mentions is missionary, mentions of f! riding, back and forth between reader POV and Cooper so the reader’s POV is orange other than that i feel like it’s mainly world building
author’s note: im quite literally so sorry this took SO fucking long 😭 i’ve been so busy with work and other stuff!!! you know you’re too busy when you don’t even have time to shitpost like ???? anyway idk why i felt like this should be a two parter, maybe it’s bc im so into writing about the show and the story. anyway, i hope yall like it <3
word count: 5318
tag list: @purple-1995 , @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @sharonusworld , @violetidk
🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬
“The script is incredible honestly, like it just feels electric,” Cooper held his cell phone between his shoulder and ear while slicing the avocado for his toast.
He gushed on and on to his brother Payton about his upcoming role in the new HBO series, set to air late next year - Hard Bodies.
Hard Bodies is a 1980s series set in Miami where small-town gym owner Lionel Vega joins forces with fiery nightclub owner Jade Monroe to dominate the city’s nightlife and fitness scene. As shady back-alley deals and drug-fueled ambitions drive their rise; passion and betrayal threaten to consume them in a whirlwind of love and crime.
“This is gonna be sick,” Payton met his brother’s energy and enthusiasm, “I’m so fucking proud of you Coop! First Monsters and now this - you’re on a fucking roll!”
Cooper’s face flushed with a light pink hue, and he couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Thanks, man. I mean, it’s HBO! This could be huge for me.”
“And you’re finally working with your dream girl,” Payton added, a teasing lilt in his voice.
Cooper froze for a beat, the knife pausing mid-slice through the avocado. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.
“What do I mean?” Payton scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know who your co-star is, Y/N! Honestly, this is how some of the most romantic couples met so this could be a love story for the ages -”
“Okay, relax,” Cooper cut his brother off, his tone dismissive but the pink on his cheeks deepening to a noticeable red. He resumed his food prep, focusing intently on his task. “It’s not like that. She’s a professional, I’m a professional—”
“Oh, please,” Payton interrupted with a laugh. “You’ve been obsessed with her since that indie movie where she played the violinist. What was it called again?”
“Strings Attached,” Cooper answered automatically, then winced when Payton barked out a laugh.
“Exactly! You’re so not over this.”
“Whatever,” Cooper muttered, spreading the avocado on his toast and avoiding the fact that he’d practically memorized her entire filmography. “The script is electric, and she’s perfect for Jade. It’s literally not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal,” Payton echoed mockingly. “Right. So you’re gonna be completely normal huh? You’re definitely not gonna do that nervous big smile thing when you guys meet at the Ryan’s tomorrow?”
Cooper rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the flutter of nerves in his stomach. The truth was, he had already spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining their first interaction. Would she even remember his name after introductions, or would he just be the guy playing Lionel?
“I’ll be fine,” he said finally, though his voice wavered slightly.
“You’re gonna melt,” Payton teased. “Mark my words. And if you embarrass yourself, I fully expect you to call me immediately.”
Cooper sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead. “I thought I called you for support?”
“And I do support you - I’m proud of you, I love you and I know you’re gonna bomb meeting her -- bye Coop Coop!!”
As Cooper hung up the call, he stared at his toast, appetite momentarily forgotten. Payton wasn’t wrong. This role was a dream come true—but working with her? That was something else entirely.
He shook his head, trying to shove the thought away. He had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he let a schoolboy crush mess it up. Still, a small, secret smile crept onto his face. Maybe this would be the best year of his life.
----
Pulling into Ryan Murphy’s driveway felt like stepping into a cinematic dream. The sleekly paved path was framed by pristine banks of white pebbles and perfectly manicured shrubbery, each plant standing at attention like they’d been given stage directions. The house itself was a modern masterpiece—clean, sharp lines, vast panes of glass that reflected the sun just right, and an energy that screamed money, power, and taste.
But none of it threw you. If anything, it fueled you. This was exactly the kind of space you were meant to be in.
This wasn’t your first brush with industry bigwigs. You’d navigated enough industry parties and after-hours premieres to recognize the set dressing of wealth. And you’d met Ryan Murphy a handful of times already—enough to know he had a presence that filled a room, even when he wasn’t trying. This time, though, it was different. You weren’t just mingling at a party. You were here because *you belonged here.*
Your chest buzzed with excitement, but your walk to the front door was smooth, each step deliberate. Before you could even knock, the door swung open.
“You must be Y/N,” said a sharply dressed assistant with a smile that looked well-practiced but still warm. “Welcome! Ryan and Cooper are out back. Follow me.”
“Lead the way,” you said, flashing a quick grin. You weren’t about to play small—not here, not now.
The inside of the house was even more stunning than the outside. High ceilings that made every space feel twice as big, sleek furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum, and pops of color so perfectly placed it had to be planned. It was the kind of house people spend their whole lives dreaming of living in, but today it was just another set piece to you.
You followed the assistant, walking with an easy confidence, even letting out a quiet, impressed hum as you glanced up at a massive abstract painting hanging in the hallway.
“Nice art,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, but the assistant chuckled.
“Custom piece,” she said, glancing back. “Ryan commissioned it.”
“Of course he did,” you replied, lips quirking into a grin.
The assistant led you through the house, out to the backyard where the sun hit just right, Ryan Murphy stood by the edge of a sleek infinity pool, mid-conversation with another figure, but his eyes flicked over to you as soon as you stepped out. A grin spread across his face like he’d been expecting you all day.
“Y/N!” Ryan beamed, arms outstretched. His energy was just as big and commanding as you remembered, but it still felt personal. “I’m so glad you’re here. Welcome, welcome!”
You stepped in without hesitation, letting him pull you into a light hug. “Thank you for having me,” you said, your voice steady and full of gratitude. “I’m so excited to be here. I’ve been looking forward to this since I got the call.”
“Believe me, we have too,” Ryan said, holding your shoulders for a moment like he was sizing you up, but in a way that felt more approval than judgment. “You’re exactly what we need for Jade. You’ve got the fire.”
You grinned, letting that bit of praise soak in.
Ryan’s eyes shifted to the person standing next to him.
“Have you met Cooper Koch yet?” he asked, motioning to the man just to his right.
Cooper stood tall, his hands in his pockets, gaze flicking between you and Ryan. If the word leading man had a picture next to it, it would be him. Sharp jaw, tousled hair that looked just the right amount of undone, and a frame that made him look like he’d just stepped off the set of a 90s Calvin Klein campaign. But there was something else—a softness to him, a hesitancy that you immediately clocked.
“Hey,” he said, stepping forward to offer his hand, his eyes darting briefly to Ryan like he was double-checking he was doing this right. “Nice to meet you.”
You took his hand, but instead of a simple shake, you tugged him into a quick hug. Not too tight, not too long—just enough to make him feel welcome. He froze for half a second, clearly not expecting it, but he relaxed the moment you patted his back.
“Nice to meet you too, Cooper,” you said, pulling back just in time to catch the faint blush creeping up his neck. Cute.
“Uh—” He cleared his throat, his eyes briefly meeting yours before darting down to his sneakers. “Yeah, I’m—uh, I’m really excited to work with you. I’ve seen some of your films and, uh, they’re amazing.”
“I really appreciate that,” you said, tilting your head slightly, watching the way he shifted on his feet like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. Charming in a puppyish way. “I’ve seen some of yours too. You’ve got some serious range. I’m so excited to see what we cook up together.”
Cooper’s lips quirked up into a smile, but he still rubbed the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure how to hold a compliment. “Thanks,” he muttered. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it too.”
Ryan clapped his hands once, pulling both of your attention back to him. “Alright, alright. Enough love-fest. Let’s sit, get into it, and talk about the show.”
He led you both to a sleek, shaded seating area under a pergola. A pitcher of lemon water and crystal glasses were already waiting, because of course they were. Ryan sat with the air of a king at court, gesturing for you and Cooper to take seats across from him.
“Okay, let’s get into it,” Ryan said, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned forward. “I’m going to walk you through what I’m envisioning for Jade and Lionel. These two are the heart of Hard Bodies, and you’re going to love them. Trust me.”
You leaned forward, eager, every part of you locked in on Ryan’s words.
“Jade is power,” Ryan said, tapping his fingers against his knee. “She’s tough, she’s smart, and she’s relentless. Lionel—” Ryan glanced at Cooper, who sat a little straighter under his gaze. “—Lionel is her foil. He’s calm, thoughtful, but he’s got a lot going on beneath the surface. He’s a slow burn, but when he cracks, he cracks. And that dynamic between the two of them?” Ryan’s eyes flicked between you and Cooper, his gaze as sharp as a spotlight. “That’s where the magic happens.”
You nodded, the fire in your chest burning hotter with every word. You glanced at Cooper, catching the way he was looking down at his hands, nodding to himself like he was already running scenes in his head. He’s got that quiet focus, you thought. This’ll be fun.
“Got it,” you said, locking eyes with Ryan. “I’m ready.”
Ryan grinned. “I like that. You’re gonna be delicious as Jade.”
You smirked, eyes cutting to Cooper as you leaned back in your seat. He smiled, small but steady. His shoulders had relaxed a little, and this time, when your eyes met, he didn’t look away.
Yeah, you thought, this’ll be fun.
----
Since the meeting at Ryan’s house, you and Cooper really found your rhythm. By week three of filming the nerves that had hummed beneath your skin on day one had quieted, replaced with something steadier — confidence, excitement, and maybe a little something extra you hadn’t anticipated.
That extra was Cooper.
You hadn’t expected to click with him as easily as you did. He’d been quiet at first, reserved in a way that read more thoughtful than standoffish. But it didn’t take long for him to open up. It was in the small moments — how he’d quietly offer you his jacket between takes if it got too cold on set, how he’d wait for you at the catering line even if you were behind, or how he'd listen — really listen — whenever you shared an idea about your characters.
It made you feel seen. Really seen.
What you appreciated most, though, was his presence. On days when your nerves got the best of you — when you fumbled a line or felt the pressure of carrying a scene — Cooper was a grounding force. He had this way of calming you with just a look, like he could see right through your facade and was silently telling you, “You’re fine. You’re more than fine.”
On-screen, the two of you were electric. Every scene between Lionel and Jade crackled with energy — love, conflict, tenderness — all of it felt so real that sometimes you’d walk off set still feeling the aftershocks. Off-screen, it was a different kind of magic. The two of you joked constantly, falling into an easy back-and-forth that felt like you’d been friends for years. It wasn’t forced, and it wasn’t something you’d experienced with every co-star. With Cooper, it was effortless.
You loved that.
For you, it felt like a friendship blooming in real time — a friendship that made long days on set feel lighter, and easier. But for Cooper, it was something else entirely.
Where you saw camaraderie, he saw *everything.*
Every time you looked him in the eyes to deliver a line, his chest would tighten just a little more. He swore you looked at him differently when you were in character, like Jade saw all of Lionel, even the parts he didn’t show anyone else. It was devastating in a good way.
Then there was the physical contact. A simple touch, nothing out of the ordinary for actors playing love interests, but every time it happened, it was like the world narrowed to just the two of you. During one scene, you’d cupped his face with both hands, a quiet moment of reconciliation for your characters. The scene called for intimacy, but the way your thumbs had softly brushed against his cheekbones — that wasn’t in the script. And it wrecked him.
His heart swelled, chest tight with an ache he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just that you were stunning — though, God, you were stunning.
You were sharp and quick-witted, always ready with a comeback. You were thoughtful, checking in on the crew like you’d known them for years. You carried yourself with an effortless kind of grace — not in a “perfect” way, but in a real way, like you knew who you were and didn’t feel the need to prove it.
And Cooper? Cooper was in trouble.
Every scene, every shared glance, every brush of your hands had him falling further. He’d never admit it out loud — not yet, at least. But when you laughed at something he said during a break, your head tilting back, eyes crinkled in a way that made him forget every single one of his lines, he knew he was already gone.
----
It was Saturday night, and filming was running late. You were down to the final seconds of a solo scene where Jade, in full command of her space, moved with precision, power, and grace. The dim glow of neon lights splashed blues and purples across the glossy floor, shadows playing tricks on every surface. Music thumped low in the background — a sultry, hypnotic beat that seemed to sync perfectly with every roll of your hips and grip of your hands on the pole.
This scene had loomed over you since the table read. The words “Jade performs a solo pole routine” stared back at you from the page like a challenge. You’d never done anything like it before, and you knew how easily a scene like this could be reduced to spectacle rather than storytelling. But you were determined to get it right.
Weeks of training had led to this moment. The production hired pole-dancing experts to work with you one-on-one. At first, you’d struggled to even lift yourself off the ground, your muscles burning in protest. But after enough bruises, missteps, and “let’s try that again” moments, you finally felt it — that shift from trying to doing.
And now, you were doing it.
Take one was rough. A missed beat here, a loss of balance there. Ryan called "cut" before you'd made it halfway through. But take two? Take two, you were untouchable.
Your breathing was steady, eyes locked with the camera lens as if it were Jade’s greatest rival. Every movement was deliberate — slow drags of your hand down the pole, a spin that left your hair floating behind you, and a perfectly timed back arch that made you look weightless. You didn’t just look like you knew what you were doing. You looked like you’d done it a thousand times before.
Own the room. That’s what the pole instructors had told you. And you did. God, you did.
On the sidelines, Cooper sat in his labeled actor’s chair by the monitors completely consumed by you and your scene. At first, he was watching for the sake of it — just a castmate supporting you like you always supported him. But somewhere between your first spin and the moment you gripped the pole, leaned back, and flipped your hair over your shoulder, his chest tightened.
His eyes tracked your every step, every subtle shift of your weight, completely captivated. His lips parted unconsciously, breath caught in his chest as you delivered the moment you’d been directed to — a sultry, deliberate gaze straight into the camera. But it was when you reached the edge of the stage, your back to the lens, flipping your hair over your shoulder with a slow, precise motion, and hinging at the hips to elongate your legs, that he felt his restraint slipping. Heat pooled low in his stomach, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't will away the growing tension in his sweatpants.
He tried to convince himself it was just admiration for your craft — appreciation for the sheer dedication you poured into the role. And it was. You were brilliant, commanding every inch of the stage like it had always belonged to you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought creeping in the back of his mind.
He wished it was his character in that chair. The one lucky enough to be the focus of your gaze, the slow drag of your fingertips down his expansive chest, the weight of you settling on his lap like a claim had been staked. His hands gliding down your sides, firmly settling on your hips before gripping your ass with a possessive squeeze. He pulled back just long enough to deliver a sharp slap, only to seize another handful with equal intensity. The thought struck him hard and fast, leaving a dull ache in his chest that spread lower. Every roll of your hips had him gripping the edge of his chair, trying to keep his breathing steady. It wasn't just the choreography — it was you. Your presence filled the room, magnetic and impossible to look away from.
His jaw tensed as you leaned forward on the stage, your eyes flickering to the camera like it was a lover you had under your thumb. But Cooper didn’t see the camera. He saw himself, head tipped back, breath caught in his throat as you loomed over him. The image hit him so vividly he had to shift in his seat, hoping no one noticed the heat crawling up the back of his neck.
He knew it was unprofessional, he knew he should be focused on the craft, the art, the performance. But it wasn’t just the role anymore. It was you — the way you embodied every inch of Jade like a second skin, a perfect blend of power and seduction. He wanted to know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of it. To be the one under your spell, just for a moment.
His fingers twitched on his thigh, pressing down hard as if to ground himself. It didn’t work. His mind was already gone, caught in the spiral of what-ifs and could-bes. What if you touched him like that — not as Jade, not as an act, but as yourself? What if you leaned in just a little closer, lips at his ear, fingers curled into his collar to pull him forward?
He shifted again, glancing around like the guilt might be written all over his face. No one was looking his way. But even if they had been, it wouldn’t have mattered. His gaze was locked on you, completely and utterly trapped.
Every slow turn of your body, every flash of your eyes, every deliberate move of your hips — it was torture, plain and simple. The kind of torture he’d willingly endure if it meant you’d look at him just once the way you did the camera.
God, he needed to get a grip.
“Cut! Beautiful, that’s a wrap on Y/N!” Ryan called, his voice jolting Cooper like a splash of cold water.
He blinked hard, shaking himself out of it. Around him, crew members applauded, grips already moving to adjust the set for the next shoot. But Cooper’s eyes didn’t leave you. You stepped away from the pole, beaming from ear to ear from the adoration of everyone. A production assistant met you as you were walking off-set with a parka coat and a bottle of water as you headed toward the monitors to look over the scene with Ryan.
You were approaching Cooper, still ecstatic, he wanted to stand to give you a hug but all the blood, currently still rushing to his throbbing self was preventing him from doing so.
“Holy shit,” you said, walking toward him with an excited grin still lingering on your face. “That was incredible.”
Cooper fumbled with his words, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. He could feel a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead, and it wasn’t from the studio lights. For the love of God, Cooper, get it together, he scolded himself, swallowing hard. After a beat, he found his voice again.
“You were incredible, Y/N,” he said with more conviction, leaning forward a bit. “Like, truly amazing. I mean it.”
His sincerity made your heart swell with appreciation. Without a second thought, you leaned in to hug him. You knew he was still sitting down, but it didn’t matter. His praise hit differently—partly because it came from a castmate, but also because it came from Cooper. Someone whose work you genuinely admired.
“Thank you,” you said softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed in close.
Cooper did that thing he always hated—where a hug catches him off guard, and he freezes like a deer in headlights. But this time, he was quick to recover. His arms circled your waist with more certainty, holding you close. Warmth spread through his chest, and for a moment, everything around him fell away. No cameras. No set. Just you.
He let himself sink into it, arms tightening a little more like he could hold on forever if he had the chance. His fingers brushed against the small of your back, and he felt you breathe, steadily and calmly. He took a slow inhale, and you smelled like cherries—sweet and fresh, as you'd just bitten into the fruit. Cherries. How was he supposed to forget that now?
His mind drifted. For one dangerous second, he wondered what it would feel like to press his face into the curve of your neck. To stay here a little longer. He was so caught up in you that he almost missed it—the sharp realization of just how close you were. His breath hitched. His entire body went taut like a wire pulled too tight.
His heart dropped as he realized the problem. Oh, no. No, no, no.
If you shifted even an inch— just an inch —you’d feel it. His body’s very inconvenient, very undeniable reaction to you.
Panic started to set in. He thought about pulling back, but how? Hug too long, and it’s weird. Pull away too fast, and it’s suspicious. His heart was beating so hard now he was sure you could hear it. His arms stiffened around your waist, a dead giveaway. She’s gonna notice. She’s definitely gonna notice.
His brain went into overdrive, mapping out a hundred ways to escape, none of them good. He couldn’t move without making it worse. His fingers twitched against your back as he tried to think of a solution. Don’t freak out. If you freak out, she’s definitely gonna know. Just breathe.
But before his spiral could hit rock bottom, a voice rang out from across the set.
“Alright, guys, let’s bring it in!” Ryan called, clapping his hands for attention. “We’re wrapping for the night but I wanna chat with everyone.”
You pulled away, completely unaware of the war going on in Cooper’s head. You smiled at him, bright and grateful. “Come on, partner,” you said, giving him a playful tug on his arm.
He blinked at you, still half-stuck in his haze of panic, but he followed your lead. His body was still tense, still buzzing from the aftershock of it all, but he managed to give you a lopsided grin.
“Yeah, partner,” he echoed, dragging himself out of his head. Get it together, man. Seriously.
Ryan gathered everyone around, his voice cutting through the low hum of crew chatter. “Alright, great work today, everyone. Things are moving along smoothly, and I appreciate all of you for that,” he said, his eyes scanning the group with a satisfied grin. “Tomorrow, we’re shooting the shop scenes in the morning, so check your call times. Also…” He glanced at his clipboard, tapping it with his pen. “Our intimacy coordinator, Anna Hansen, will be on set to work with Y/N and Cooper for the bedroom scene.”
You nodded enthusiastically, unbothered, already mentally preparing yourself. This was part of the job—no big deal. But Cooper’s nod was slower, stiffer. He was mirroring you, or at least trying to, but his heart had dropped straight into his stomach. Oh, right. The sex scene.
He hadn't forgotten about it—he couldn't forget—but hearing it announced like that made it feel more real. No longer a far-off, abstract idea on the call sheet. No, this was happening. Tomorrow. With you. Close to you. Closer than he’d ever been. Closer than he’d ever allowed himself to imagine. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had imagined it—but not like this. Not with cameras, choreography, and a whole crew watching.
And now, that quiet yearning he’d always managed to keep on a leash had slipped free, leaving him raw and unsteady. He could fake it. He had to. It’s just acting. But no amount of rehearsal could have prepared him for the storm brewing in his chest.
----
Later that night, Cooper was sprawled on his bed, the script spread out in front of him like it was the key to his survival. His gaze was glued to the page, his fingers absently running over the edges as he read and reread every line. He was meticulous, trying to memorize every movement, every word, because he had to get it right. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. He had done nudity and sex scenes before, but this time felt different. This time, it was you.
He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but everything about you had him tangled in knots. The way you moved so effortlessly, the quiet confidence you exuded without even trying—it was magnetic. He had seen you on screen, but being in the same room as you, sharing the same space had only made his admiration for you grow deeper. And now, the thought of being so close to you in such an intimate scene… it had his pulse racing and his stomach churning.
His body felt conflicted—he wanted to be professional, to focus on the art, but the thought of the scene tomorrow, of the moment when his body would be so close to yours, was making it impossible to think straight. He needed to know what to expect, to have every detail mapped out, so he could control his reactions, avoid any embarrassment. If the script said "Jade straddles Lionel in a kiss," he'd know how to prepare for it, anticipate the movement, and adjust himself. If it said "Jade nibbles at Lionel’s ear," he'd be ready—not to react with a breathy moan, or worse, to let his body betray him in front of you.
He kept reading, his heart hammering in his chest as he came across a line he hadn't fully processed before: "In missionary, Jade’s breasts pressed against Lionel’s face." His breath caught in his throat. HOLY SHIT. He’d forgotten that detail, or maybe he had blocked it out. Now that it was right there on the page, staring him in the face, the weight of it hit him hard. His cheeks burned, his body suddenly stiff, as the reality of what was about to happen sank in. He leaned back against the headboard, a sigh of frustration escaping him. His mind raced. How could he focus on professionalism when all he could think about was being in that moment, in that scene, with you?
Cooper took a shaky breath, trying to will his thoughts back into control, but his mind wandered. He couldn't stop thinking about how you looked in today’s last scene —how stunning you were in that glittery lingerie, the way the heels elongated your legs, the way your hair cascaded around your shoulders in sexy curls.
The image of you in that moment haunted him, the desire for you building in his chest until it felt suffocating. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts aside, but it was no use. The more he tried to focus on the script, the more he imagined how it would feel to be that close to you.
His mind started to wander into dangerous territory—what if he could imagine it? If he pictured it, maybe he could control his body’s reaction during the actual shoot. His thoughts spiraled, his breathing shallow.
Before he realized what was happening, his hand had slipped below the covers, instinctively rubbing over the fabric of his boxers. His breath hitched as he thought of you—your voice, your scent, the way you looked in that scene earlier today, your glittery lingerie, the heels that elongated your legs, your big, sexy curls. It drove him wild.
His body reacted before his mind could catch up, and he felt his breath quicken. His hand, almost of its own accord, sliding into his boxers. As he imagined what it would be like to plant hot wet kisses on your neck while he’s on top of you, thrusting into you as you moaned his name.
His mind became consumed with the desire to feel you, feel your hips rock on top of him when you rode him, your breast with perky nipples bouncing up and down. His hand moved over himself, slowly at first, his breaths growing shallow as the image of you continued to play in his head. The thought of being with you overwhelmed him.
Cooper squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to pull himself together, but his body wasn’t listening. The pressure was building, and with a quiet, desperate moan mixed with the faint utterance of your name, he let go. His warm cum spilling from his tip and cascading down his hand.
He lingered in the aftermath, trying to catch his breath, but all he could think about was tomorrow. How the hell was he going to make it through that scene without his body betraying him? He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow, his heart still racing. His mind was a whirlwind, full of you—how you moved, how you smelled, how you made him feel. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. A very long day.
Cooper sighed, getting up to wash his hands, brush his teeth, and try to settle himself for the night. Tomorrow was going to be difficult, to say the least.
#cooper koch#cooper koch x reader#cooper koch x y/n#cooper koch smut#cooper koch fanfic#cooper koch imagine#nasty remix
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Our Little Wolf and Little Star
Married Wolfstar x twin!daughters (Willow and Selene)
Requested: no
Summary: Wolfstar adopted two twin girls and raise them the best they can.
Warnings: description of birth (barely), some cursing, kinda cringe, but it’s for the vibes.
A/N: EVERYONE LIVES AU. Mary Kate and Ashely movie vibes. Also… listen to Little Star by Dion and the Bellmonts and Li’l Red Riding Hood by Sam the Sham and the Pharohs for ultimate vibes.
3rd Person POV
October 31st, 1980
The wait in the hospital was complete agony. Remus sat in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair. The only position that feels remotely comfortable is resting my head on my hands. His mind races faster and faster, watching his husband, Sirius, pace back and forth in front of him. James sits silently in the chair to the right of Remus. He’s trying his best to calm the pair down, but his words fall on deaf ears in Sirius and Remus’s overanalyzing ones.
“Mates, you both need to calm down. Everything will be just fine.”
Sirius stops his pacing and stares at James, his eyes wide with lack of sleep. “Calm down? What if something goes wrong? Why is it taking so long in the first place? It’s cause I’m stubborn, so they’re being stubborn to punish me? Fuck, I knew we should’ve used Remus’s-”
“Siri, stop talking.” Remus’s voice and eyes were stern as he sat back in the chair to get a better look at Sirius. The topic of who was going to donate sperm has been a sensitive one from the moment a surrogate was mentioned. The risk of passing his lycanthropy onto their future children was enough for the werewolf to insist on using Sirius’s for the donor.
All Sirius does is roll his eyes and plop on the seat on the other side of Remus, head falling on Remus’s shoulder out of exhaustion and instinct. Remus’s hand slides into Sirius’s, their fingers intertwining.
“I mean it. Plus, our kids would have your hair and height. That’s a win in my book.” Sirius moves his eyes to look up at Remus, but his head stays stationary.
Remus brought their hands up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his husband’s. “It’s a little late for that now, innit?”
The labor has been going on for 48 hours, but the couple’s anxieties have been going on since they found out the implantation was successful. It only intensified as the months went on, now at an all-time high. Both of them refusing to sleep in case the surrogate, Maud, started to push. They both wanted to be ready to run into the room and watch their daughters take their first breaths.
As much as James tried to calm them down and convince them to sleep just for a bit, Remus and Sirius were too stubborn and sleep-deprived to listen. James even called Lily, hoping she would talk sense into them, but with her stuck at home with a one-month-old Harry, her over-the-phone and sleep-deprived threats were far less intimidating.
“Sirius, labor takes time. Lily was in labor for 12 hours. And you have twins, so of course, it’s going to take longer.” James’s voice was empathetic, but this sentence has been said three times already. Every comforting thing James could think of has been said, causing the words to lose meaning to Sirius.
Although Remus was pretending to keep it together, he was a nervous wreck inside. He walked into the hospital as Remus Lupin: Wizard, Werewolf, Husband, but when he leaves, father will be added to that title.
The muggle hospital seemed odd to the three wizards. It was much more controlled and secretive than anything in the wizarding world. The wing they were in was decorated with blue, pink, and yellow, with a quiet lullaby playing every so often, signifying a new baby had been born. Every lullaby that goes off that isn’t to celebrate baby Lupin allows jealousy and anxiety to grow more and more.
“Sirius, Remus,” James takes a deep breath, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but maybe you should go home and get some sle-”
“Sirius and Remus Lupin?” A nurse in pink scrubs walks into the waiting room. Her eyes scan and spot the two men rising from their chairs. She smiles at them and pulls her mask down. “Your surrogate is pushing; we’ll have you wait outside the room until she’s done. Come with me.” She turns around, and then men are quick to follow.
James shouts a quick “Good luck!” but the fathers-to-be don’t even look back to respond.
The two husbands wait outside the delivery suite, their hands intertwined. They waited less than ten minutes, their minds going a million kilometers a second, but none of those thoughts mattered when they heard a faint cry behind the door followed by a quiet lullaby version of “Happy Birthday” playing over the speakers.
Remus’s eyes widen, the weight being lifted off his shoulders. Sirius’s smile widens immediately. It isn’t until they hear a second cry that the couple hug each other. Happy tears flow from Sirius’s eyes while he laughs out of relief. The soft lullaby plays again for the second baby girl, signaling everything is going well in the delivery room.
A soft knock coming from inside the room interrupts their celebration. A nurse in pink scrubs walks into the hallway and smiles at the couple. “Would you like to come in and meet your daughters?”
Sirius kisses Remus’s head as they enter the room. They’re given a bit of hand sanitizer before being given their little girls to hold. The two husbands thanked the surrogate a million times before being taken into a separate room to fill out paperwork as Maud recovered.
The twins were no longer ideas and possibilities; they were real and in their arms.
The two walk out into the waiting room with the babies swaddled in a soft pink blanket and pale yellow hats. Sirius’s tears started again when he saw the mass of people in the waiting room. It was no longer James, but everyone important in their lives was there to support the new parents. Lily was there with Harry, Regulus, Peter, Marlene and Dorcus, Mary, Alice, and Frank, who brought Neville. Even Andromeda showed up.
“Everyone,” Remus’s voice was still a whisper, yet loud enough for the whole crowd to hear. “I am happy to present to you for the first time ever Willow Lily Lupin. Born at 7 lbs and 2 ounces. 1st born by 3 minutes.” He raises his elbow a bit, letting people get a better look at the sleeping baby in his arms.
“And this is Selene Andromeda Lupin, who stands at 7 lbs and 5 ounces.” Sirius continues, smiling at the little bundle in his arms. His gaze couldn’t be broken even if he tried, and he didn’t want to.
Regulus smiled softly before speaking up. “W and S, Wolf and Star, I’m assuming?” His eyes were locked on his big brother, someone he’d seen in this caring and protective role before, but this time it seemed out of love instead of fear. Regulus also wanted to start crying happy tears, but he refused to be in front of a large group.
“I guess it is.” Sirius grinned and looked up at his brother before looking back down at the sleeping baby. “Hell, my Little Star.”
“So Willow is Little Wolf then?” James ran the back of his finger over Willow’s cheek, replicating something he often does to Harry when he sleeps.
“I guess she is.” Remus's smile grows more if that is even possible. “Our little Wolf.”
Sirius turns to his husband beaming. So much love and happiness filled his eyes. “Our girls.”
Remus met Sirius’s gaze with the same love and tenderness. “Our girls.”
#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#wolfstar#parent wolfstar#dad wolfstar#wolfstar x reader#dad!remus#dad!sirius#everyone lives au#wolfstar daughter#marauders as parents#wolfstar as parents#james potter#sirius x reader#sirius and remus#remus x sirius#remus lupin#sirius being sirius#sirius and regulus#sirius black#marauders#wolfstar parents
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The freaky Friday episode
Summary: On the latest episode of Wandavision you and Wanda cause chaos while trapped in each others bodies in a freaky Friday situation.
Masterlist
Requested
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The familiar static whir of the television echoed as the episode began, the retro WandaVision intro playing with a cheesy jingle and pastel title card: "The Swap of the Century!" The screen transitioned to a vibrant 1980s-style living room, complete with shag carpeting and bold geometric patterns. Wanda Maximoff sat cross-legged on the couch, a mischievous smirk on her face. Across from her, Y/N L/N, Wanda’s girlfriend and partner in this perfect sitcom world, lounged in a hot pink tracksuit, flipping through a brightly colored magazine.
~
“It’s ridiculous” You muttered, shaking your head at the magazine. “How do they expect us to achieve these hairstyles? Do they want us to defy gravity?” Wanda chuckled. “Gravity’s overrated” She waved her fingers, a flash of red sparking in her palm. "I could give you the perfect perm in five seconds flat”. You gave her a mock glare. “You’re not touching my hair again, Maximoff. Last time you did, I looked like I stuck my head in a cotton candy machine”. Wanda laughed, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. “Alright, alright. But don’t come crying to me when the mall hairdressers mess it up”.
As Wanda clicked the remote, a strange shimmer rippled through the room. You froze mid-turn, your magazine slipping from your hands. Wanda’s smirk faltered as her vision blurred. And then-
~
Cut to commercial break.
~
When the episode returned, the scene was chaos.“WHAT THE-WANDA?!” You were standing in front of the living room mirror, only it wasn’t your reflection staring back. It was Wanda. Her fiery red hair, her sharp cheekbones, everything- but with your unmistakable wide-eyed panic behind them.
Across the room, Wanda- now wearing your face- stumbled backward, holding onto the couch for balance. “What did you do?!” You, in Wanda’s body, exclaimed. “Me?! This wasn’t me!” Wanda shouted back, though her voice sounded strange to her own ears. She raised her hands-Your hands-and gasped. “Oh no…”. “Did you cast some kind of spell?” Y/N demanded, pacing back and forth. “I didn’t cast anything! Why do you always assume it’s magic?” Wanda huffed, crossing her arms. “Because it’s always magic, Wanda!”
The two women stared at each other for a moment, their identical wide-eyed expressions creating a bizarre mirror image. Finally, Y/N groaned. “Okay, okay, let’s just… stay calm. How do we fix this?” Wanda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose (or rather, yours). “We’ll figure it out. But for now, we need to blend in. We can’t let anyone know something’s wrong”. “Blend in?” Y/N raised a brow. “You’re saying I need to act like you?”. “And I need to act like you” Wanda said, grimacing. The two women groaned in unison.
The rest of the episode played out like a comedy of errors. Wanda, trapped in Y/N’s body, struggled with simple things like eating breakfast without using magic. She absentmindedly waved a hand to bring the coffee pot over, only for it to crash to the floor. “Wanda!” Y/N hissed, trying to keep their nosy neighbor Agnes from noticing. “Force of habit!” Wanda whispered back.
Meanwhile, during your time in Wanda’s body, you discovered the immense responsibility of controlling chaos magic. “Okay, it’s just like riding a bike” you muttered to yourself as you tried to magically clean up the broken coffee pot. You waved her hand, and suddenly the pot turned into a live chicken. “What did you do?!” Wanda exclaimed, watching the chicken flap wildly around the kitchen. “It’s harder than it looks!” You shot back and glared at Wanda, who looks like you.
The hijinks didn’t stop there. Wanda had to attend a PTA meeting at the local school, where she struggled to keep up with the other moms’ small talk, while you had to keep the illusion of Wanda’s powers going during a surprise talent show hosted by the kids of Westview. At one point, the two of you ran into Agnes, who seemed suspiciously delighted by their odd behavior. “Well, don’t you two seem… different today”she said with a sly smile. Wanda and Y/N shared a panicked glance before replying in unison: “Everything’s fine!”
By the end of the day, the two women collapsed onto the couch, utterly exhausted. “I don’t know how you do it” you admitted, massaging your temples (or rather, Wanda’s). “All the magic, the pretending… It’s a lot”. “And I don’t know how you do it” Wanda said with a tired smile. “Just being… normal. It’s harder than it looks”. You shared a laugh, leaning against each other. “Do you think we’ll switch back soon?” You asked. Wanda shrugged. “If this is a spell, it’ll probably wear off on its own. Sitcom logic, right?” You groaned. “Next time, can we just have a normal day in this sitcom world?” Wanda smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”
As the credits rolled, the two women continued to bicker playfully, their love and partnership shining through even in the midst of chaos. The screen faded to black with one final soundbite: “Wanda, if you ever swap bodies with me again, I’m hiding all the coffee pots”.
#fandom#x reader#x y/n#fluff#x you#midnightwritingsessions#marvel x you#wanda maximoff x reader#marvel x reader#wanda maximoff#marvel#marvel mcu#mcu fandom#mcu#x reader fic#x reader fanfiction#wandavision#wanda x reader#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff fanfiction
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Horror movies to watch?
the black cat (edgar g. ulmer, 1934)
the hitcher (1986, robert harmon)
seance (2000, kiyoshi kurosawa)
psychic (1977, lucio fulci)
martin (1977, george a. romero)
splatter: naked blood (1996, hisayasu satō)
just before dawn (1981, jeff lieberman)
guinea pig: mermaid in the manhole (1988, hideshi hino)
the funhouse (1981, tobe hooper)
it's alive (1974, larry cohen)
the masque of the red death (1964, roger corman)
intruder (1989, scott spiegel)
blood rage (1987, john grissmer)
the prowler (1981, joseph zito)
the strangers: prey at night (2018, johannes roberts)
the empty man (2020, david prior)
spider baby (1966, jack hill)
the devil rides out (1968, terrence fisher)
two thousand maniacs (1964, herschell gordon lewis)
the night of the hunted (1980, jean rollin)
bloody muscle body builder from hell (1995, shinichi fukazawa)
evil dead trap (1988, toshiharu ikeda)
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"...she were loved. I mean, that's more than a lot of people, isn't it?"
robert sheehan in red riding: 1980
#i forgot i still had auto-screencapping on while rewatching rr: 1980 and ohhh :(#bj my poor sweet bean :((#''occupational hazard''... ugh#friendly reminder that bj is meant to be around 22 here. :'))#i believe this film is set in december (like 1974) and bj was born in november.#they call me bj [self];#robert sheehan#red riding 1980#bj anderson#the red riding trilogy#red riding
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Joseph Mawle from Red Riding 1980 (2009).
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The Company of Wolves (1984)
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The Company of Wolves (1984)
#the company of wolves gif#80s horror#neil jordan#sarah patterson#little red riding hood#rosaleen#angela carter#80s movies#1980s#1984#gif#chronoscaph gif
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Today, we're excited to bring you the third part to our historical rec list! You can find part one here and part two here. Check out these amazing fics and be sure to show the authors love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Late Night Train Ride | Explicit | 4,347 words
Harry thought his assistant’s insistence on getting him a private car for what was a mere few hours long ride was pompous and preposterous - up until he walks into Louis.
2) Smile for the Camera for It Knows Everything, Hollywood Star | Mature | 6,676 words
Prompt 132- The story of Nancy Reagan being called the blowjob queen of Hollywood but it’s Louis.
3) More, More, More | Explicit | 8,733 words
1980s AU. Harry is a singer and Louis is a groupie that Harry sleeps with. He becomes Harry’s inspiration for writing Rebel Yell by Billy Idol.
4) Only You And You Alone (Can Thrill Me Like You Do) | Explicit | 13,346 words
Harry wrinkles his nose as he fights Louis' dress to get his hands underneath it, panting deeply. "Alpha..." "I'm still hungry, Louis," he claims with a severity that is derailed by his ragged breathing. "I thought I heard you say you were going to take care of everything."
5) Falling Down For You | Explicit | 14,750 words
If there was an alpha that Louis wanted to call his, it would be Harry. But what happens when an arranged marriage, a hungry press, and doubts get in the way?
6) Dance Like Waves Along The Wind | Explicit | 17,019 words
“What are you doing to me, my liege?” the God of the Sea murmured as he slid an arm around Louis’s slender waist. Louis’s breath stuttered and his grip on the ruby red apple tightened just as Harry’s did around his body. “I am hardly your liege, in this relationship,” he whispered out, tilting his head up to gaze at Harry’s imperceptibly dark eyes. “No?” Harry inquired. “Am I not at the mercy to follow your every order? To cater to your every whim?” Louis’s lips parted as he swallowed thickly, Harry’s eyes tracing his bobbing Adam’s apple intently. “Are you?” were the only words he could get out in response before Harry was dipping down to press a heated kiss against his lips.
7) Across the Grey, Salty Sea | Explicit | 19,968 words
Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.
8) Limelight | Mature | 20,046 words
During his first semester at Boston University circa 1989, a shy, socially awkward Harry meets a kind, outspoken Louis. In an attempt to show Louis how he feels, he creates a mixtape of songs. But Harry’s deep anxieties cloud him, and he can’t seem to understand whether or not Louis even wants him around, let alone likes him back.
9) Manners And Misjudgements | Explicit | 21,178 words
“Everyone you mention the Duke to raves about him, just like you are defending him now. But no one looks behind the façade he so ably maintains to deceive you all.” Liam sighs deeply. “You sound like a crazy man right now, Louis.” “I will prove to you who the Duke really is, just wait.”
10) Splash Me Across The Silver Screen | Explicit | 22,851 words
Harry shrugged. “Maybe you just need to get even more outside your comfort zone. Maybe we need to try something a bit more… adventurous?” Curiosity successfully piqued, Louis tilted his head and toyed with the fringe dangling from his lace shrug. “Like what?" “We, uhm—maybe we try filming you in more compromising positions,” Harry suggested carefully. He kept his tone low and even as he studied Louis’ expression, hands skating over his curves soothingly. If Louis didn’t know any better he might have thought that Harry was talking about filming him naked. But that couldn’t be right—could it? “Like porn?”
11) Like Rabbits In Cigar Smoke | Explicit | 26,088 words
Los Angeles 1975. The rules to being a Playboy Bunny are very clear. Keep the clients happy while still protecting the brand. Bunny Louis tries very hard to keep to that, and no amount of longing stares or soft touches from world-wide famous rock star Harry Styles is going to change that. He's not that kind of Bunny, right?
12) Lust For Life | Explicit | 32,708 words
The 1970s au where the pressure of being an aging starlet begins to weigh heavy on Harry’s heart before he meets Louis.
13) Last Blues For Bloody Knuckles | Explicit | 34,329 words
Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake. He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later. A mob au.
14) Once Upon a Time | Explicit | 37,079 words
Since Louis' mother's death, her book of fairy tales has offered Louis an escape from the tower that he is locked inside for much of the day. However, when his father announces that Louis has been betrothed to the cruel king of a neighboring kingdom, Louis quickly realizes that even the comfort of his fairy tales will not be enough to shield him from the harsh reality of his life. Embarking on a long journey to his new home, Louis is accompanied by his maid and a small group of soldiers, led by Captain Harry Styles. As Louis begins to experience the world beyond his prison and learns more about the people escorting him, he finds himself drawn to the mysterious Captain. But with every step closer to his impending marriage, Louis is forced to confront the life he's being thrust into—and the painful truth that he may never have his happy ending.
15) The Royal Midwife | Explicit | 40,233 words
Louis has called himself the "Royal Midwife" since his mother passed away. When the King summons him, he expects to be stripped of his stolen title. What he doesn't anticipate is that he will be be kidnapped and taken to the neighbouring kingdom, where he is expected to give the apparently infertile Crown Princes an heir.
16) Hold Me How the Deep Night Has | Explicit | 48,018 words
Louis Tomlinson needs a change. Stuck in a cycle of going to the job he hates, spending time with his friends, and avoiding the one man he hates most in this world, Louis' in desperate need of something new. So when he discovers an abandoned notebook on the way to work, the decision is easy to take it for himself and begin a journal amidst the empty pages. What can't be expected are the words that appear overnight directly beside his own, written on the same day 400 years in the past. What are the consequences of a magical connection between two men of different centuries? And who, among it all, is the mysterious E who only exists on the other side of Louis' journal?
17) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48,822 words
After a year away, Harry comes back to his hometown ready to shoulder the responsibilities that come with being a Styles. However, an unforeseen return will greatly setback his plans as he finds himself confronting ghosts of the past, his prejudice, and a torrent of feelings he thought were long-buried. In the midst of a battle between protection and progress, trust that was once broken will try and pierce through walls of convictions he built around himself, leaving him grasping for power he is unsure he even wants. Meanwhile, Louis merely tries to save his family and make the next day better than the last. As he faces his past wrongdoings and the scars they left, chances will be granted to him - either to repair what was once broken or finally find closure. Torn between the desire to defend himself and the fear of the truth being rejected, he will learn peace comes from honesty - and that sometimes, what appears to be the easiest solution simply was the most coveted one.
18) A Certain Satisfaction | Explicit | 51,659 words
“Sit, sit, please,” he said, so Louis sat, folding up his hands in front of him. Harry cracked up his bottle of water, looking at Louis for a long moment as he took a drink. When he was done, he set the bottle on the desk, then pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, looking at Louis over the edges of the frames. “So,” he said, “Louis. Do you have any previous experience with pornography?” Louis blinked, shuffling his feet. “I’m sorry, what?”
19) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 58,649 words
“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis. “All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.” “As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”
20) The Face Of Love’s Rage | Explicit | 67,421 words
“What if I tell you,” the princess said slowly, “I can get you five kingdoms and a lover?” Harry’s brows rose. “Only five?” he said mockingly. “And a lover. Don’t forget the lover.” “I have a lover.” “Do you?” the omega tilted her head, smiling, “I think right now, you have a consort, two friends, and a hostage. If you marry Julien, you will lose a friend and gain another hostage. Do you want him as a hostage or as a friend?” Harry’s temper was about to snap and break all hell loose. His hands itched to do something with the wild creature in front of him, with her untamed spirit that seemed to mock his authority and challenge his very presence. Abigail Tomlinson, with all her secrets and sins, defied not only his status, but everyone who dared to get in her way. Always making everyone aware that the only reason she was still there wasn’t because Harry let her, but because she wanted to be. Seven kingdoms, two sinners and one big secret.
21) The Rose Of Whitechapel | Mature | 100,182 words
Jack the Ripper au - Detective Constable Harry Styles and his partner, DC Liam Payne, lead the case on the Whitechapel murders. Louis Tomlinson, the Rose of Whitechapel, is harbouring secrets of his own, along with a dark and sordid past. When their paths cross, truths are revealed, and perhaps hearts are mended... A darkness is brewing, and it's finally come to collect on the promise it was made.
22) If I Cannot Bend Heaven, I’ll Rise Hell| Explicit | 109,110 words
It blooms: In 1807, a boy falls for the wrong monster. It eats: In 1969, omegas began to disappear as rumors of the rising of a cannibalistic cult spread like wildfire. It grins: Now, one of the most powerful vampires of the West sits down for an interview to reveal all his sins. “Exodus 7:14-11:10, right before he sent the plagues, he said to Moses; ‘By this you will know that I am the Lord.’.” The vampire said with the ghost of a smile, small, almost intimate. “How can you annihilate something that you cannot touch, something you cannot see? How can you fight against a hungry God?“
23) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120815 words
“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.
24) Siren Calls Me Home | Explicit | 133,762 words
Harry and Louis’ kingdoms have rivaled one another for ages. When the time comes for Prince Louis to choose a mate, Harry’s father puts him in the running for his hand. But Harry has no intentions of marrying the omega. He is only using the opportunity to investigate and expose Louis’ sordid past, where rumors of fornication and murder abound, and bring justice down on his rival once and for all.
25) Where I Burn To Be | Explicit | 143,346 words
There were very few people who managed to get under Louis’ skin as effortlessly as Harry had, and even fewer who had done it in only a day and a half. It was quite an accomplishment, really. They’d only interacted a handful of times and yet Louis had the insatiable desire to slam the locker into that frustratingly well-defined face that never seemed to hold any expressions other than contempt and arrogance. “That’s right. I do own the skies. And you wanna know why?” he sneered. Without his boots on, Louis was a fair bit shorter than Harry, his eyes pretty much level with Harry’s chin and his socked toes bumping into the boots of the other man, close enough that Louis could make out the tiny scar on Harry’s brow and the individual shades of emerald in his irises. He was handsome, but that only made Louis hate him more. Heart thumping heavily against his sternum and his hands balled into fists, Louis lifted his chin defiantly and plastered a coldhearted smirk across his lips. “Because I’m the best goddamn pilot here.”
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