#apologies for spelling mistakes english may be my first language but i am no means good at it

[commander-malla]

I’ve had some brain thoughts about Malla for a while now and finally am writing them down (under the Cut)

Mostly to do with Bound by Blood/Shadow in the Ice

So, background, we’ve already established that the “Commander” has been removed from their race for a while, and for charr this feeling is especially amped up during the Rally.

Malla’s no different.

Oh sure, she’s kept in contact and done the occasional job with her warband, plus others as well (she did rank up to Centurion after all)..but she left. She left and her warband splintered, Elexus took a chunk of it with with her. Malla outwardly brushed it off when she initially heard about it, before the rally. “We’re Charr, ‘bands split all the time.” Inwardly…it hurt. She hadn’t realized things had gotten that bad. But she wasn’t going to beg Elexus to come back if she wasn’t happy, and then the world needed saving again and she was whisked further and further away.

So here she is, at this Rally, with hundreds of charr watching her every move, judging if she’s “Charr enough” still. (And she did not appreciate the attention Bangar threw her way during his speech but she keeps her mouth shut because he’s still her Imperator.) She keeps her head up, and smoothes ruffled fur where it’s needed, like she’s asked to do, and shows them she still belongs. (But she’s really starting to doubt that she actually does.)

And speaking of Bangar… he hates her. Oh sure, she’s Blood. And she’s a capable Centurion. She’s the daughter of a famous and well-respected charr and still made a name for herself. (reasons Ryland hates her). But…she’s not at all interested in being the Legion Poster Charr and outright refuses to be used in propaganda. And she joined the Vigil founded by his ex-mate Almorra and killed their son with her permission. She’s a Dragon Champion and has the power to wipe everyone out at her command with her new pet.

She argues (the one time she does talk back) that “it’s not a pet” and she “doesn’t control it.” But she can tell it’s not getting through. Almorra storming away doesn’t get through. Rytlock’s “outburst” doesn’t get through. At the very least, she thinks Crecia understands.

And then all hell breaks loose (again).

And through hunting down Bangar and dealing with the Jormag-sized storm brewing, she starts to have an elder dragon whispering in her ears making her question even more her place in the Legions.

And she’s still questioning whether or not she should just give her resignation to Crecia and accepting her life as a gladium, when Bangar shoots her. (She should’ve seen it coming honestly)

It’s honestly a miracle that she doesn’t.

[nikolaiismysugardaddy]

I'm under your spell // Nikolai Gogol

pairings... Nikolai Gogol x Reader

contains...! fluff! gn!reader, knocked out reader

I apologize for any mistakes in advance - english is not my first language!

Extra: I was listening to Bring me the Horizon - Follow you when the idea popped up in my head. Take a listen to it, it's pretty nice. ♡

Hope you enjoy! xx

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The last memory you remembered was when you were in Sigma’s casino, playing poker with some drunk folks. You won the last round, and everyone around you lost all their money. And that’s all, you can’t recall a single motion after that. 

The moment you tried to sit up, you noticed that your clothes had been changed to some nice and cozy pajamas. Your head hurt so much, it felt like a hundred needles were stuck in your scalp. You turned to your left and noticed black and white striped pants placed atop your own clothes on a chair. 

That’s when another memory popped up in your mind: you went to the casino with Nikolai. He was the one who came up with this whole game-night idea. “Yeah, that’s right…” you hummed to yourself. “The only reason I agreed to this was because I wanted to confess to him…” You buried your blushing face in the blanket. In the very same moment, you felt something strange wrapped around your forehead. Bandages? You tapped the fabric carefully; now it was obvious that it was bandaged. 

“What the hell happened?” It was absolutely annoying, not remembering a single thing. A worn-out sigh left your mouth while you buried your face in the pillow. Your eyelids got heavier, and slowly, you fell asleep again. 

----------------

“No, no, she’s still asleep.” you heard someone talking not too far from you. “I told you, I can take care of her!.. What do you mean I can’t even take care of myself? Don’t joke around, I’m the clown to make puns like this, not you!” You yawned without a sound and rubbed your eyes but the other person in the room noticed it quickly. “Gotta hung up, Sigma.” He threw the phone on the pile of clothes. “My dear Y/N, how are you feeling?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was Nikolai. But… Why is he here? And where the hell am I by the way?

“I… I don’t know. My head hurts so much, but…” even talking felt inconvenient. “Hah, what happened?” 

A well-known goofy smile spread across his face. “Well! Quizz time, dove! Which version of the story is true?” He looked relieved that you were awake and hearing your voice put him in a better mood already. “Sigma’s version was something like, hmm, some customers were so jealous of you winning all the matches they accidentally dropped a bottle of wine on your head.” He mimicked Sigma the whole time, even distorted his voice to sound a bit like him. “The better version is mine, of course. Some customers got so mad at your impressive talent in poker that they wanted to destroy your knowledge as soon as possible and hit your pretty head with a bottle.” At the end of his monologue his face became distorted. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his cool again. “So!” He placed his gaze on you, forcing a foolish smile on again. “Which one do you believe is the truth?”

“I think it’s somewhere in between the two.” Your voice was still creaky but somehow you felt a little better since you knew he was here. He looked pretty much unsatisfied by your answer but it wasn’t the right time for him to persuade you why his version was the real one. “Um, could you tell me where am I?” You tried to sit up but the pain was unbearable and some solid whines left your mouth. Nikolai unconsciously placed his hand on your chest and pushed you lightly back in the bed. His whole upper body was above yours.

“Don’t!” His eyes widened from the worry. “You’re at my apartment…” he muttered lightly and retracted his hands. 

“S-so this means y-you changed m-my clothes?” your face turned cherry red from the thought that Nikolai may have seen you naked. 

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you in those wine soaked clothes.” He smiled self-confidently and didn’t even realized what his words meant to you until he noticed the embarrassed look on your face. His eyebrows frowned before he bursted out laughing. “My, my, you know I got my magical cloak for a reason, do ya?” He placed his palm on your blanketed thighs. “I didn’t see anything.” His eyes were as gentle as ever. “But I can mention that it’s pretty difficult to dress someone down and then back up blindly.” His giggles filled the room. 

You playfully pinched his thighs while a warm smile spread across your face. The discomfort you felt before just disappeared. You didn’t even notice that you fixed your gaze on his face, your eyes exploring every small detail. All of a sudden, Nikolai laid his head down on your legs while a huge, relieving sigh left his mouth. “I’m glad you’re better.” he hummed into the blanket.

Your face flushed again and you felt some comfort and safety wash over you. “You worried a-about me?” every word you said felt insecure. It wasn’t so frequent for Nikolai to worry for someone. Of course, he had human feelings, but he defended himself from these kinds of feelings. 

“Mhm.” He buried his face into the sheets, making you feel even more nervous. “Another quizz! Why do you think I took you to the casino yesterday?” His voice wasn’t as cheerful as before; it was more likely shy now. 

“I don’t know? You told me you wanted to have fun and mess a bit with Sigma, as usual…” You finally felt enough strength in you to sit up, pulling your legs out from under Nikolai’s head. Quickly, he slid up next to you, slightly pushing his body against yours. Your heart skipped a beat from the unexpected closure. His eyes were filled with excitement, but somehow bittersweet. 

He took down the card from his eye to get a better look at you. “Well, surprise! It was all made up! So… do ya wanna know? The real reason?” he leaned really close to your face, his breath brushing your cheeks as he spoke. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

“I would like to.” you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. The tension between you two was palpable from the first time you met. Was he maybe feeling the same thing you were? 

“Excellent! Excellent!” He clapped his hands like a little child, but then his expression changed in the blink of an eye. He looked more serious than ever. “To tell you the truth… my head is haunting me nowadays, and I can’t really express this weird feeling, since I haven’t had something like this before.” There was a sense of vulnerability in his eyes. He held your hand gently in his. You made him feel like it was okay to let his guard down and trust someone else for once. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe when you’re away and it’s strange, ya know? I feel like you could drag me through hell and back, I wouldn’t mind at all, as long as I could hold your hand in mine. It’s crazy, ain’t it?” He laughed to himself. You looked into Nikolai’s eyes, and saw a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You were speechless, unsure how to answer to his sudden revelation. The man you were secretly in love with had just declared his own love for you. “What do you mean?” Your hands were sweating, and your heart was beating loudly in your ears. The way he looked at you made you weak to the core. 

“You really don’t get it?” He sighed, his gaze never missing yours. He squeezed your hands and gave you a light peck on your lips, causing your heart to race even faster.

“W-what?” You couldn’t decide at this point if you were awake or still dreaming. You were sure he would never confess his feelings to you. 

“I’m saying I’m under your spell, dove.” He tugged a strand of your hair behind your ears to get a clear look at you. “I think I could sacrifice my freedom if your arms were my cage.” He whispered to you with some bitterness in his voice. “It feels weird, ya know?”

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You leaned in and gave him a soft, tender kiss in response to his words. 

“Yes, I know.” You murmured to his lips, savoring his taste on yours. And then all the energy you had before left your body. Your head fell to his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your body and pulled you into his lap, worried. The atmosphere around you felt too comforting, you felt vulnerable in his arms. 

“Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy, angel? Oh my, my, should I call Sigma?” He was troubled by your well-being so much that he even forgot that you did not answer his confession properly. 

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure, but the sensation of his warm embrace made it difficult to focus. “No, no, Kolya, it’s okay. It’s just so relieving; I wanted to confess my feelings towards you yesterday too.” You lifted your head and looked directly in his eyes. It was written all over his face that he was surprised by your words, even though he already sensed it. You have never seen him blush like this before. He tightened his arms around you, and buried his face in the careen of your neck. 

“I’ll never let you go, my precious little dove.”

[cospple]

costco x apple cider CHAPTER ONE!

TW: fighting, yelling, british, idk what else so i apologise if i forgot anything!!!

Authors Note: there’s like. a lot of grammar issues in here, those are because i was lazy. however any spelling mistakes are on purpose fuck the english language. (also i apologize to anyone who isn’t on mobile because i wrote this in my notes app so it’s formatted for mobile)

without further ado, here is our first chapter, enjoy <3

********************************************

APPLE

hi my name is apple marie cider and i have long light brown hair and brown eyes. i grew up on an apple orchard (which is how i got my name). i’ve lived in the same small town, on the same 50,739 acre apple orchard for my whole life. the only good thing about this town is the people. well, not ALL of the people. take my sworn enemy, Costco, for example. HIS FULL NAME IS LITERALLY COSTCO COSTCO COSTCO!!! him and his family have been my sworn enemy since generations back. you see, it’s a sort of family feud.. years ago, starting with costcos and my parents, (costcos family owns the town market) costcos mother WOULDNT let my parents sell their apple cider at the market and insulted us for being farmers.. the feud passed down generations, which is why Costco bullies me. in our little town, everyone who knows anyone knows that Costco is an Alpha. you can’t go anywhere without hearing about it. not even the library. i myself am more of an omega. i just don’t like the idea of being mean to people!!! anyway, aside from Costco (i roll my eyes just thinking about him), everyone here is pretty great!

i get up out of bed, put on my overalls and a black t shirt, then i head off to town. i was walking the dirt road from my barn to town, when i felt it. Costco was out there somewhere. wandering around. looking for a submissive and breedable type. “not today Costco.” i whispered under my breath. i would NEVER go out with him. i made my way through town, walking fast. a lot of faces passed, but thankfully none of them were Him. i stopped into a few stores, avoiding Costcos family market. then i picked up the dry cleaning, when all of a sudden…

“hey Apple!” a voice shouted at me. i looked up from my grocery list, and who should i see other than Costco.

“great…” i muttered under my breath. “what do you want, Costco?” i said rudely.

“oh, nothing, nothing…i just couldn’t help but notice that you went to every shop in town, but mine! odd, huh?” he said mockingly.

i rolled my eyes at him. “maybe if your parents weren’t douchebags-“

“HEY!” he barked. “don’t talk about my parents that way! EVER.” i began to shake. i don’t like when people raise their voices at me. i shivered and turned away from him, then began the long and treacherous journey back to my barn.

when i got home, momma stopped me at the door. “are ya’lright honey? have ‘nother run in with Costco?” she said empathetically.

i sighed. “it’s nothin’ momma.. i won’t let him get to me.” 

she smiled her warm apple pie smile and said “good. he ain’t gonna rattle us now, is he? we got a iron clad foundation.” i smiled softly at her, then made my way into the house. i set our groceries on the counter and brought the laundry to my room. then i thought i oughta go talk to pa about what Costco said.

********************************************

COSTCO

i took the limo back to my mansion up on the hill, overlooking our vast empire that was the town supermarket. 

“thanks Lionel.” i said, being sure not to scuff my new italian shoes as i stepped out of the limo. 

“pip pip, cheerio!” he called as he drove to the family car park. i swiftly walked into the foyer, where i made sure there wasn’t so much as a spec of dirt on my clothing. i had been far too close to that farm girl during the conversation we had. i was worried she may have given me a disease, like herpes or the bubonic plague. 

after i was sure there were no bacteria on my suit, i walked into the mansion. i walked through our pristine, pearly white halls until i reached my fathers study. 

“hello, father. you will be happy to hear that i-”

“Costco, how many times have i told you? do not disturb me while i am working.” he sternly told me.

“my apologies father…” i said, backing out of the room. he never listens to me.. and i know not to disturb mother down at the market. if i am there it could scare away potential investors or customers, due to my intimidating nature.

instead, i walked through our large, clean, house, smiling at the large painting of the Costco market, no apple cider family products in sight. it gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling, knowing that they are banished to other markets.  a feeling that is, for an alpha like me, unfamiliar. i shrug it off, deciding to go work out in my gym until dinner.

********************************************

APPLE

the next day i woke up in my bedroom. it was raining outside, which is good for our crops. i looked around my pastel pink room, thinking about how happy Costco must be. it’s cold and dreary outside, just like his soul. STOP!! WHY ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT HIM??? i thought angrily. what i SHOULD be thinking about is breakfast. i have to go eat my oatmeal, and then i should put on my red poncho and go feed the horses and check the chicken coop for eggs. Costco has no place in any of that. he’s never worked a day in his life! i put my hair in a ponytail and i pulled on a clean pair of jeans, with holes in the knees from kneeling to wash the horse stalls. i put on a long sleeved navy blue henley and my poncho and rain boots.

after doing my morning chores, i went to find momma and pa, and say goodbye before i head off to school. then i put on my rainboots and began to walk to the bus stop. it was raining hard, so i had to put my backpack under my poncho. after 2.11 miles of walking, i made it to the bus stop. there were a few other kids there, but then came Costco. looking UGLY as ever in his stupid Vicuna suit and dumb Italian shoes. god, he needs to get therapy or something. 

“hey Cider, where’d your hunchback come from?” he called out in his stupid stupid accent. OH NO. MY BACKPACK UNDER MY PONCHO LOOKS LIKE A HUNCHBACK?? i thought, feeling like an idiot. everyone at the bus stop began to laugh. hard. this caused me to shake, tears welling up in my eyes. 

“aww what’s wrong? not alpha enough to handle some laughter?” something about the way he said it made me shiver. 

“shut up…” i mumbled. i won’t let him get to me, even as the tears spill over my eyes. his expression seemed to almost.. soften as he realized how his words affected me. he put his hands in his pockets and looked at the wet ground. his hair began to dampen, he must have been too busy looking at himself in the mirror to put on a rain jacket. i couldn’t help but notice the way his icy blue orbs seemed to glow, even as his hair fell in front of them. i then realized i must look odd, i was staring at my sworn enemy as if i…liked him.. or something. now THAT would be funny!

the bus finally arrived, and we boarded back to front. i ended up somewhere in the middle, sitting alone. no one wants to sit next to me because im a stupid farm girl. suddenly i felt the air seem to grow thicker, the room darker, colder even. and who should sit next to me but the one and only Costco. in the moment i wished i had sat in the back, next to stinky John, because at least then i wouldn’t be stuck here, next to the most wretched, evil creature ever to walk the earth. 

“look, i know im an alpha, and.. i don’t usually say stuff like this, ESPECIALLY not to YOU. but… im sorry for what i said at the bus stop. i saw how it affected you and i just… never mind its dumb anyway..” he said shyly. i’ve never heard Costco say something like that before. 

“oh. um- i- i- i guess its uh- it’s fine. it’s no big deal- i guess…” i said, hoping he couldn’t tell i was nervous to be around him. i don’t even like him, yet he makes me stumble over every other word. it’s crazy! 

we didn’t talk for the whole rest of the bus ride. we finally got to the schoolhouse 20 minutes later. we got off the bus and went our separate ways, thank god. i don’t want to talk to him again today. he kind of scared me, being so…nice…like that on the bus. he’s NEVER like that, especially not to me. 

********************************************

COSTCO

i can’t believe i just apologized. to APPLE!! i never apologize! to anyone! i’m too alpha for that. god, that stupid little omega is going to ruin my reputation. i can’t have that. i walked through the hallway, almost hitting the ceiling with my 6’5 frame, making sure to keep my head up. this way everyone knows that im the best. omegas cower at my mere presence. “heh..” i chuckle to myself under my breath. especially that wretched omega farm girl. i thought in my head. 

i sit down in finance 101, ready to learn, when all of a sudden..

“hey, Costco! is it true that you got RABIES from Apple Cider??” a girl asked me. i don’t know her, but she seems like a beta type. which means she should NOT be speaking to me.

“excuse me?” i said calmly.

“well..y’know, because you two are like..”

“like WHAT?” i asked, my temper slowly rising. 

“well…i dunno. i don’t remember. sorry to bother you, mr.” and then she ran off. 

if this stupid beta thinks that ME, COSTCO C. COSTCO, would EVER be associated with that farm girl, i might just murder someone. the whole town seems to think we LIKE each other. which is absurd, obviously. we very clearly despise each other. the mere idea of us being together makes me throw up in my mouth. because if i let the puke out it would get on my new suit. and i cannot let that happen, this is VICUNA for Christs sake! 

anyway, that beta clearly knows nothing about me. the closest i’ve been to that lice infected farm girl was sitting beside her on the bus. and even THAT i didn’t want to do. i just hadn’t meant to make her cry. father says making people cry is apart of the job. i don’t want to be anything like him. i want more than this. i always have. i mean, seriously, who wants a trust fund and a job in finance?

my “friend” (aka the son of my fathers business partner) James walks over and takes a seat next to me. 

“Hello, Costco!” he says cheerfully.

“hi, what are you so happy about?” his happiness disgusts me.

“Well, if you must know, my dad just signed a contract with a major company, meaning I get to intern there next fall!”

“oh, isn’t that just delightful.” i say sarcastically. who even wants to intern at a finance company?? before James can respond, our teacher begins class.

********************************************

APPLE

“OMGOSH YOU SAT NEXT TO COSTCO ON THE BUS??” my best friend Orange whisper-yelled at me. 

“well i- i mean yeah, but like i said, it- its not that big of a deal. it was just.. weird.” 

“weird like sexy or weird like odd?” 

“ugh, Orange, gross!” i say, scrunching my nose at her.

“just askin!” she shrugs.

“okay, well as i was SAYING. he sat next to me, and then-“

“Ladies, what is so important that you absolutely must talk about it while i am telling you about your assignment?” Mrs. Jones, our biology teacher, said.

we both mumbled apologies, and turned away from each other. for the rest of class, i sat silently taking notes. we were learning about cells, and to be real honest, if we didn’t have a final for this class i wouldn’t be paying attention. cells are really boring. after class, we resumed our conversation. 

“yeah! he straight up apologized for making me cry! what has gotten into him??”

“it’s so obvious, Apple!” she says excitedly.

“what?!”

“girl, Costco has a huge crush on you!! why else would an alpha like him express his feelings!! plus, HE literally sat next to YOU! guys don’t do stuff like that unless they like you.” she says, nodding her head like she just bestowed some vast knowledge upon me.

“Orange. you’re delusional. he only sat next to me because he had to! there were no other seats!!” she rolled her eyes and shrugged. 

“whatever you say! anyway, im off to algebra. see you at lunch!” she called as she skipped off. 

she’s so insane! Costco? having a crush on ME???  never in a million years! he doesn’t even LIKE ME! because we’re SWORN ENEMIES!! gosh, that’s such an absurd idea…

[hochsleep]

Post for introductions and important information!

Series Masterlist

Hi, cuties!

My name is Hochsleep and here I write stuff about Daryl Dixon (my favorite man ever)

Basically I'm just learning how to use this site, so I apologize for my mistakes and errors, I'm a newbie;)

I'll tell you a little bit about myself before we discuss some important things about my art and this account!

• Hochsleep ("hoch" is a form of a word in my native language that translates to "want", sleep you know what it means. I am a Hochsleep because I always want to sleep😴)

• I'm 20 so I can read and write all sorts of vulgarity and am more used to twd content with violence (which I actually hate, I'm a pacifist and don't accept violence anywhere but movies, TV shows and games)

BUT if you are under the age of 18 you really should leave this profile and only come back when you are of legal age!

• she/her

• Autistic moment (just for further understanding and to resolve possible questions about my writing)

• Journalism student at university (I'm close to a nervous breakdown🙂)

• I'm a big fan of twd and Daryl Dixon (obviously, yes) so you and I here will enjoy the company of this wonderful man (yes, I only like fictional men, no other way)

• I'm really just learning how to use Tumblr (it's important for me to say that again) and I really admire the design of other accounts, so hopefully I'll grow in that my profile will get better and more comfortable for us us!

Well, I don't have much more to say at this point. I mean, I'm just an ordinary young girl with no personal life and dreaming of a fictional man from the show, what else is there to tell? But maybe I'll update this post later if you're interested and I feel like sharing;)

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Now important information regarding this profile and my work!

• I plan to write mostly for female readers with a female anatomy, as it's closer and easier for me. But I don't mind the prospect of gender-neutral and male readers in the future!

• I'm currently writing a big paper on ao3 (the link will be below, as well as all the other necessary links, leaf to the end of the post to get it!)

• But I have to warn you, I don't plan on writing big pieces for Y/N just yet! My fanfic on ao3 is entirely about my OC, who has a spelled out past, appearance, character, and more (but it's still interesting, I promise)

• But don't worry, all the work here will be all about you, dear readers. In Y/N format without detailed descriptions of appearance or any specific character (that everyone could more or less match themselves with the character). Everything about Y/N will be mostly left to your taste and imagination ;)

• I'll mention again that English is not my first language! I mostly use a translator (with a bias towards American English), so there may be mistakes and inconsistencies. Feel free to correct me in the comments! If I use any phrases from my native language that are unclear due to being translated word-for-word (I mean, every language has such phrases and stable expressions), I will be sure to clarify for you the meaning of the speech abortion I used! I try to improve my English (also with the help of this blog), so I write in a way that the translator and readers can understand me, so I hope you will find it easy and comfortable to read me!

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• I will try to appear here as often as possible, so hopefully we won't get lost;)

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• All my work, here and on ao3, is copyrighted!

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• I do not give permission to copy and distribute my creations to pass them off as your own without any mention of the real author!

• As for Daryl Dixon and other "The Walking Dead" characters: they are all entirely the property of the creators of the series. I am only responsible for MY OWN vision of the original characters of the series and signing them as part of the fanfiction!

Yes, it's gotten pretty long here, but please understand me. Don't think I'm a nerd, but the intellectual property part of legality is really important to me.

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Okay, we're finally done 🫠

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I'm happy to everyone and anyone here! I suggest you to lose yourself in the forest of my fantasies ;)

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We have a lot of interesting things waiting for us, guys;)

Thanks for sticking around! Enjoy reading!

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• some of my work will consist of nsfw / smut.

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(as mentioned before) I am a beginner writer, I don’t have a lot of experiences so some fics I make may be cheesy / cliche. . I also am a multi fandom writer, but I will definitely stick to 2 - 3 fandoms to write for the most !

[pstvchld]

Hi Hi, Hello, it's me! Jup, I'm alive, and I thought for some time that I should write something again. I had a mini-project of funfiction in my mind, and I want to finally share it with you. So here I am, but I have to say some things: English is not my first language, and I'm still learning! If you see some spelling mistakes, etc., don't be shy - the comment section is open!

Main character : Harper Browning [OC]

Inspired by Marvel Cinematic Universe, but most of The Avengers. Yes, I really love these dorks, hehe.

Only two characters are my own [Harper Browning, Aleksandr Semyonov]

To Find Browning |the beginning|

May 27th, 2014

I don't really know where to start. Maybe from the beginning...

My name is Harper Browning, and I'm fifteen years old - that is what they told me. I have no idea how I ended up here. I don't remember anything, actually.

A week ago, I just woke up in the hospital. The first thing I noticed was my hands in bandages. Bandages all over my hands and chest. Deep darkness in the room and then, out of nowhere, the room was full of people. Doctors were running through hallways to the room and again and again. Asking me how i feel, do I know where I am, etc. I wasn't sure. I wasn't answering.

It was like waking up from sleep, but

I feel like I didn't exist before. The thing is , it is like I didn't exist. Nobody could tell me who I really am. Where am I from? Where are my family or friends? Do I have parents? Nobody visited me in the hospital.

Who am I?

This situation is like waking up from a coma, but what was before? It's like, I don't know.. Something like to be born once again in whole new world.

I look in the mirror, but I don't reconize the face I see. I feel like someone stole my memory or my whole self and left me by my own..

Am I even alive? Or is it a dream or nightmare I just stuck in. I can't wake up and somewhere I have real family whose waiting for me..

Doctor Connor, it was his name, I think, told me that some woman found me near the main road, in the middle of the day.

Two days later, the same woman, who actually saved me, visited me in the hospital.

''Do you remember me?'' she asked.

''No, I'm sorry'' I responded.

She only gave me a smile.

For a second, I hoped maybe she knew me. Maybe she can tell me who I am and what happened. But she didn't know either.

''My name is Natasha'' she spoke suddenly. ''I'm sorry..''

"Why?"

''If I came earlier, you wouldn't end up here.''

It's not her fault I'm at that state. Why did she apologize? I thought.

Even now, I don't have a clue what's the meaning of that. But I didn't ask.

Right now, I'm still sitting on the hospital bed. Doc Connor gave me this notebook to write down my thoughts and memories I eventually recall.

I have nothing to remind. Every time I try to concentrate, I get a headache. Frustrating..

I don't know what to do..

|12-oct-24|

[onekmaway]

" 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚 "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ☆ VALENTINE STARS ☆

You can call me Valentine, Val, V or even Star, I do not mind which one you choose. I am genderfluid (AFAB) so you can use any pronouns you want on me, just like my name, I don't care which one you address me by, see me how you want, a dude, girl or non-binary, I do not mind which. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, and that I am not learned american english, but Britain english, so my wording may or may not be weird, or there might be spelling mistakes, I do apologize for those. If you stumbled upon this, that means you're on my fanfic page, I'm originally a bot creator, and I am doing this to help me with my writing, as there are sometimes when I can not put an idea into bot form, so I would either write it into a fanfic form, also, please keep in mind my writing is not good, I do not see myself as a good writer, so I am deeply sorry if what I write doesn't make sense to you. Most of the fanfics will also be inspired by bots I make- I also do NOT take requests on this page, you may request on my other page, but do not request fanfics, but you are allowed to give suggestions and send in drabbles, just do not ask me to make a fanfic for you, as I already struggle doing requests on my main page.

This is a 18+ writing page, it does not mean that there will always be NSFW, but it is there because I do write dark content, like murder, stalking, incest/stepcest, creepy behaviour- while I write those things, I do NOT support them, nor condone them, this page and what I write is purely for fictional use. This page is purely for the dom's/top's (any gender), the reader will always either be subtop, dombottom, or domtop, the reader will NEVER be subbottom, as there is already so many fanfics for that kind of reader, so fuck off and go find some, don't ask me to write subbottom reader because I will not. Not interested in fanfics? Maybe you would be more interested in my bots I base some of my fanfics on > @/hornydilfsinyourarea

[riseatlantisss]

Fighter

Anon Request : “Heyy !! If you’re still doing this, I’d love a Witcher one-shot where he trains the reader to sword fight ! The reader feels outmatched and Geralt is harsh but patient. Could u also make it a little flirty/fluffy ??? Thanks <3”

So sorry to be so late on this but I hope you like it !! Request are still open :)

You never understood why Geralt chose to train you to fight. You are not a Witcher nor any other ones of those fantastic great beings one can find on the Continent. The reason, however, turns out to be quite simple….

1,4K words - Geralt of Rivia x gender neutral!reader

Low key inspired by this quote.

English is not my first language, please excuse the mistakes.

Your back ached from the hard blow you just received. Actually, your whole body ached. Yep, sword practice with a witcher will do that to you, you thought as you struggled to get back on your feet. The sun was beating down on you. You wanted to give up and tell Geralt you reached your end. But you knew it would not make a difference. Geralt was many things. Indulgent was not was of them.

“Let this be a lesson,” Geralt announced with authority, “never turn your back on an enemy.” You turned over to see him towering you. He pulled you up on your feet with ease.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I did not realize how hard I struck you.” His apology was sincere.  You rubbed your back but refused to let him know it actually hurt. Instead, you just nodded and smiled. I can do this.  

“Good.” Geralt responded. “Pick up your sword. Let’s do that again.” He walked away and halted at a distance of ten paces. He drew his sword and pointed it right at you, ready for another round.

“Now remember. You must keep your stance composed at all times. Without balance you might as well be unarmed.” He explained, waiting for you to step into position.  

You clumsily picked up your wooden sword, pointing it towards the Witcher with a novice-like apprehension. You did your best to stay focused despite the pain and tried to anticipate your opponent’s next moves. You never were good with weapons, swords, all that stuff. Your greatest chance not to bite the dust a second time was to use your brain. And you did that quite well, incidentally.

“Now, try and block my swings.” Geralt ordered.

You remained silent, trying to analyse his posture, the direction of his feet, the breeze of the wind, anything that could give you a hint on what was going to happen next, really. He’s going to run towards me in a few seconds, but he will jump on the left at the last moment, not on the right like last time, you thought, adjusting the orientation of your sword slightly to the left in preparation.

Before you could continue your thinking any further, Geralt moved towards you, jumped to the left - as you anticipated - and brought his sword to your side with force and control. Somehow, you managed to knock the blow back with a shaking hand.

“Good!” Geralt said, encouragingly. “Now, let’s see if you can hit me.” You could hear the mocking invitation in his tone. Fearing the imminent humiliation of trying (and failing) to defeat a Witcher and experimented warrior, you tried to talk your way out of this situation.

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” You asked, “I mean, me, a human who can barely hold a sword up, against a Witcher? You could kill me anytime you want just by casting a spell on me, may I remind you.”

“You’re not outmatched because of my abilities, Y/N.” Geralt said, as if it that would make you feel better. “The only way for you to improve is to train. Out in the wild, a beast or a foe won’t give you this opportunity.”

“So be it.” You responded sarcastically, “Let the beast slay me. That’s one way of getting some rest.”

Geralt chuckled. However, he wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easy. “Come on Y/N, stop joking around and show me what you got.”

You gripped the sword with both hands and raised it above you head. You threw yourself towards your instructor as you brought the weapon down with all your might. You did not even see the Witcher step out of the way. The wooden blade of your sword finished its course on the ground, making you lose your balance along the way. Out of breath, you fell down to one knee, feeling the fatigue of this training session surface all at once and take over your body.

“Nice try,” Geralt said above you, reaching out to help you up, once again. “But too bold. You must keep your strikes disciplined. You hand me an opportunity to strike back on a platter. An enemy would not have hesitated.” He walked away a few meters, turned over and faced you. “Again.” He simply said, indifferent to your obvious discouragement and exhaustion.

“It’s no use,” you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. You sat on the ground and put your head in your hands. You weren’t even able to look at him, too afraid to see disappointment in his eyes. “We both know I shouldn’t be here.” You continued, “I’m not a Witcher. I am not a sorceress. I’ll never be a warrior. I’m nothing…” Tears started to roll down your cheeks, but you refused to let him know you were crying. You felt embarrassed enough as it was. Long seconds passed. At one point, you even thought that he had left but when you finally found the courage to look up, there he was, sitting beside you. He just stayed there for a few seconds, quietly looking at the horizon. Expressionless. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. Was he staying out of pity? To tell you he was disappointed? You weren’t even sure you wanted to find out.

“You know,” Geralt finally said after a long silence, “in my life, and as a Witcher, I run into dilemmas. All the time. Situations where it’s hard to judge, hard to know what’s right, make a decision.” His voice was different now. He had this reassuring and calm tone you so rarely heard from him. No sign of hardness or authority anymore. “When I met you, there was no dilemma. I knew right away that you deserved to have a chance and to show the Continent what you were capable of.” You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his words. “You think I am training you to make you a soldier?” he asked.

“Why else could you waste your time with me?” You responded, still avoiding his gaze.

Geralt shook his head. “I train you because I want you to be able to defend yourself. Life on the Continent is tough. I want you to become as fierce as the enemies you are bound to make.” He paused to look at you and lifted your chin up with a gentle hand. Your eyes were still glowing with tears, but at this point, you didn’t care if he noticed. “The real truth was that I could not stand to lose you, Y/N.” He was still looking at you as if he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. You were speechless. All this time you thought he trained you to fight to hand you over or even sell you to the Royal Guard or to some rich Lord. You thought he couldn’t wait for you to become somebody else’s problem. He always seemed to be so severe. So serious. But it turned out he cared? About you? You couldn’t believe it. You were wrong on so many levels. You opened your mouth to protest but he didn’t give you the time.

“You fear I will judge you? I won’t.” He said, helping you up a third time. You could hear that familiar harshness in his voice coming back. But this time, it did not scare you. It gave you new strength. “You think you are not strong enough? You are. You have all the weapons you need, Y/N. Now, fight.”

You weren’t crying anymore or avoiding the Witcher’s gaze. You were looking straight into his eyes, feeling an emotion you thought you would never feel again: determination. His words resonated in your mind. He cared for you. More than that: he believed in you. That was all the motivation you needed right now. You have all the weapons you need. You thought as you drew your wooden sword, pointing it up to your instructor, ready to strike. Now fight.

[honeybomb4thebear]

“Don’t Leave Me, Hajime.”

Setting: Non-Despair AU, Hajime still attending his normie high school with his normie friends.

Y/N has feelings for Hajime, and is also mad at him for not seeing how cool he is and how he is leaving them alone to go to Hope’s Peak. So they decide to confess.

Gender neutral reader x Hajime Hinata

Genre: Fluff

A peaceful afternoon. With the final bell ringing, some of the students of Kodaka High School were leaving the campus. It was a particularly peaceful evening, with students not being too noisy or causing any trouble. If Hajime were going home alone, surely he would have felt extremely lonely. Lately, he had been obsessing more and more over Hope's Peak and he felt like he couldn't like himself even for a little bit- and the more he dwelled on the thought, the more his already fragile ego took damage. Thankfully, though, he had a friend with him. A friend that he peacefully went home with, a friend that he treasured. "So, you are still going to take that test for Hope's Peak? Even though you will have to pay a fortune to actually go there?" "...Yes." Y/N sighed. "Why?" they pouted. "You can actually try and find your own talent, you know." "Y/N, we talked about over and over again. I don't... I mean, I can't find my talent on my own. So, the reserve course will, maybe-" "Come on now, Hajime. You can't rely on people you don't even know now, can you?" Hajime gritted his teeth. "It's none of your business, you know? Plus, they aren't just some random people, they are Hope's Peak employees, so it's only natural that I rely on them! Also, my parents agreed to this, so why should it matter to you?" Y/N sighed. Peaceful afternoon, huh? Rather, it seemed like a peaceful afternoon. Yes, that would be more accurate. "I care about you, Hajime. I don't even care if you enroll to Hope's Peak, you will always be coolest person I know to me whether if you go there or not." Hajime was taken aback. "Y-Y/N... What do you mean? It's not a time for joking around..." Y/N smiled bitterly. "I'm not joking... You really are stupid, you know? Why are you doing this to yourself? Is it because of the kids in our class make fun of your efforts?" "...I just want to find myself cool too, you know." "You already are cool, Hajime! Just because they don't notice how cool you are, does not mean you aren't cool." "..." Upon seeing Hajime's puzzled expression, Y/N's heart ached more. And before they knew it, they had started to cry, their tears somehow giving them courage: "When I'm lost, you always guide me. You may appear impatient but I know you are patient, you are always patient for me. When I'm hurt, you are always by my side, comforting me. You try to make it seem like it's troubling you but I know-" they nodded and smiled painfully, "I know it's not... You are down to earth, responsible and caring, how can you not see how cool you are? You also want to feel special, but you don't even know how special you are to me. And- and you know? It's... It's... Pissing me off! How you fail to see that... Especially when I love you this much!" "Y/N... W-wait, what? Excuse me!" Y/N stared at Hajime's embarrassed expression with anger, care and love. Lots of love. "Yes, you idiot! How can I not fall for someone this cool and special! How can I not like someone when they care about me unconditionally! Maybe I like morons but... But- I don't even care! I love you so much, even if you don't love yourself!" "Please stop, I don't know if my heart can take it anymore-" Hajime said, as he grasped the fabric on his chest. All of a sudden, Y/N was filled with shame. Oh, yes... They did show too much emotion too suddenly... But, when they weren't even supposed to see Hajime ever again, did it matter? They still felt a bit guilty for embarrassing Hajime this much, though. "...Sorry. I shouldn't have said all of these... Just, forget it, you know? Good luck in Hope's Peak." Y/N wiped their tears then turned their back to leave, just to be stopped by Hajime's hand grasping their wrist. Being pulled into his chest, Y/N felt their mind slip away from them. Before they could even understand what was going on, they felt Hajime's soft, warm lips on their cold and wet ones. Hajime's hand was still on their wrist, yet his other hand was on their damp cheek; his thumb stroking it caringly. The kiss was short, yet incredibly sweet. The fact that Y/N feelings that they treasured the most was returned in the best way possible brought them to the skies and further. Hajime's lips felt like they came from a distant yet extremely sweet dream; their warmth embracing Y/N's broken heart and quickly repairing it, as if he was casting a spell that only he could cast. After the short yet incredibly effective kiss, Y/N gazed dreamily at Hajime's eyes. But his gaze wasn't quite dreamy- in fact, it was more bold and serious. Yet, he had an embrassed smile that seemed like it didn't belong there, like Hajime wasn't even aware of its existence. But it was one of the sweetest sights Y/N had ever seen. "I think I needed that," Hajime finally spoke. "You needed what?" Y/N knew the answer already, but still wanted to ask just to see Hajime admit it. But he didn't. He just looked straight at Y/N's eyes, his smile appearing a bit guilty. He still said something that would make Y/N much more happier though. "I'll reconsider enrolling to Hope's Peak, okay?" Y/N's smile dropped- but that wasn't because they felt sad. It was quite the opposite actually; they knew that Hajime "reconsidering" meant he wouldn't go there, he was just too stubborn to actually say it that quick. So as they started to cry once more, they threw themselves in Hajime's hard, yet warm chest; embracing him needily, as if to not let him go forever. "Don't ever leave me, Hajime..." Hajime started to caress Y/N's hair caringly. "What am I going to do with you?.. Of course I can't leave you, especially when you are like this." He said so, but Y/N noticed his fast heartbeats and the way he spoke- he was so happy to hear that but he was also too nervous to be honest enough. Their heart was filled with great happiness at that exact moment, knowing that Hajime would always be with them from now on.

Apologies if I ever make grammer mistakes, English isn’t my first language!

[thewritershelpers]

Improving Your Writing when English Isn’t Your First Language (mega-ask)

As you can see above, we've gotten more than one question about writing, improving your writing, and even publishing in English when it's not your native language. First off: that's awesome. To anyone writing or even consuming in a language that's not your first, kudos to you.

You can google any variation of this question and get different articles with a ton of the same advice, and some with conflicting advice. Not only have I compiled the most commonly repeated information, but I've also reached out to people on our Discord server and others for their personal experiences.

I'll start off by listing concise versions of the advice and then expound on them further on in the article. Remember that we are not experts on your writing and that everyone learns in different ways and at different paces. These are in no particular order.

-be patient

-practice

-get feedback from native sources

-don't undermine yourself to your audience

-Grammarly

-research

-don't get discouraged

Be patient

That's first because, well, duh. Patience is so important for both yourself and your writing. Writing is hard enough of a passion without the added difficulty of doing it in a language that doesn't come naturally. In the world of literature, writing/publishing in your non-native language isn't just a matter of translating words. It requires translating of ideas, concepts, and even cultural norms, which is why just slapping it into Google translate won't work.

Part of the reason for the advice of having patience, too, is that writing in your native language needs to take time. It doesn't really matter how fast you can whip out 20 pages of a first draft--it'll still be a simple first draft. Writing is a craft that requires not just love and passion but time. So what if you need a little bit of extra time--or a lot of extra time--because you're accomplishing a feat most don't even think about attempting?

Next is to practice.

That goes hand in hand with what I said about being patient. Again, writing in and of itself is all about practice and doing it daily (not that I'm an expert on getting that done, but you know). But when it comes to practice another language, there are different ways you can do that. You can reach out to native speakers (for English, there are going to be so many people willing to help, even just in our community! you just need to ask) and practice having conversations or ask them to look over your work. Practice by turning on your favorite movie or TV show in English with subtitles in your native language. Watch videos on YouTube, find a Spotify playlist/podcast, in your target language. There's also plenty of people who have done what you're trying to do who have shared their experiences and what helped them on those same platforms.

Get feedback from native speakers

This is a bit of an expansion on what I mentioned in the previous paragraph. In my experience, and from what others have shared, writing in a non-native language can be pretty clinical. Writing with figurative language or in metaphors won't be as easy or come as naturally as it does in your own language. Things like idioms and even pop cultures reference aren't always going to translate even if you have the exact words. That's where native speakers come into play. If they're willing to look over your work, whether as a friend or in an editorial position, they can give you advice about whether the wording in one spot sounds clunky or if a phrase doesn't make sense or if there're synonyms for what you already used to help convey your message even stronger.

Don't undermine yourself

This is something that I personally am saying. It's not mentioned on any of the linked sites, and no one I talked to said it. But as someone who is a native English speaker (and even has a degree in it) I think this is super important. This point goes towards native English speakers/writers, too. Don't undersell yourself and undermine your work to the audience before they have even picked it up. Disclaimers are different, and it all comes down to the words you use and how you use them. Let your readers know, whether it's people on AO3 or a literary agent, that English isn't your first language. Let them know concisely that they may find some basic errors--but stop there. Don't grovel. You have nothing to apologize for, especially once you've given that warning (those is it really a warning? what's so dangerous or scary about a few mistakes?). You're writing is not going to be any less of an accomplishment for a few grammatical errors, or mistranslated phrases, or even typos. I've seen so many mistakes in published works that it's kind of ridiculous. But if you put something out there for someone to read and in the same breath say "I don't know that this is worth reading" I'm going to need extra convincing to pick it up. *kicks soapbox away*

Grammarly

*NOT sponsored*

Grammarly is a wonderful tool that you can use, for FREE. It not only (with the free version) helps correct spelling and grammar, but can also help point out the tone you're writing with. For example, right now, Grammarly is telling me that this writing sounds mostly informative--which it's meant to be--and a little appreciative and friendly. When sending emails I've had it tell me that it sounds formal (which I was going for), and I've also had it not say anything because the text was a different kind of writing (like when I'm proof-reading something being posting it on AO3...). I honestly don't know what else it helps with once you've paid because I've been happily using the free version for about 3 years now.

Research

Don't be afraid to pick up a book, or head to the library, or pull up Google. Research is paramount to writing anyway, let alone once you're doing it in another language. Your research options are limitless and can include your mutuals on social media as well as those dictionaries that translate from one language into another. Research can also include (in my humble opinion) binge-watching/reading your favorite things...in English. In four years of university, one of the most frequently said things was to improve your writing 1) write every day and 2) read every day. You're never going to learn from worrying or overthinking, and you're also never going to learn from just doing DuoLingo (that's more conversational than literary anyway).

Something a member of Discord specifically said in relation to research was to look at morphology, at the roots of words (and root words). Morphology is, in linguistics, looking at how words are formed. For example, let's look at "biology". There are parts to this word that each has a different meaning, that formed together created a new/elevated meaning. "ology" means the study of something, and bio means life. So biology is, simply, the study of life. Once you've got those basics of things like "ology" under your belt it'll become easier to not just translate words but the concepts (if this works with your learning style).

Last but not least, don't get discouraged.

Writers of all kinds get discouraged when writing in their native language. Even those of us who speak English as our first language make mistakes worth discouragement (you will never know how many typos were corrected by Grammarly as I wrote this all out the first time). English is not an easy language. It's not the hardest, but it's far from easy (learning another language isn't easy regardless of what languages are involved). This is a post from someone who is a non-native English speaker but you would never know unless they told us.

While researching for this, I found some articles/blog posts that said mostly the same thing, and are where I got some of the information

This one is from a native English speaker giving advice

This one is for writing for non-native English readers, but still has good advice

And finally this one is a blog post (I think) from someone who is a non-native English speaker!

In specific response to some of the asks:

English, like any other language, changes. It's a very dynamic language, actually, and from region to region, there will not only be different accents but different frames of reference. 1950 isn't so far back in time for the English to be drastically different from what is spoken today, but I'm in the USA and you're asking about Oxford. English in England has very different nuances, even more so than you would get between California and Texas and New York. This is a link to the Oxford English Dictionary list of words that became more common in the 50s. However, this is a generalized list, not specific to any English-speaking country let alone region or city. If you're wanting to look at how to convey the accent of people from/in Oxford, there are videos on YouTube of people speaking in different accents so that you can have an idea, a comparison, at least in your own mind. With the 50s it's going to be more just thinking really of what words and lifestyles and things weren't around yet; cell phones didn't exist yet. Here's another link to some stock images of Oxford in the 50s. Remember, this time was very close to WWII so there'll be lingering effects of that, especially in England.

About fight scenes and curses, there's a ton of resources on that. If you just search "fight" on our page, you'll get a ton of posts answering that question. Also, here's a link to a superb and excellent source on writing fight scenes. When it comes to curses...just watch Rage Quit on YouTube, or spend a while on TikTok. If you want to dive right in just Google "English curses" and there'll be YouTube videos, entries on Urban Dictionary, you name it.

When it comes to publishing, once you've gotten your manuscript is a perfect time to have a native-speaking friend look it over. Whether editing is their thing or not, they'll be able to help with the things that are really obvious. I don't have any experience publishing in a different language, though, so there might be other resources along the different stages to help you. Some general publishing advice I've gotten: when wanting to publish fiction, literature, start small. Start with short stories in literary journals, online and in print. You really can't make much headway with large publishing houses without a literary agent and it'll be easier to attract one if you have evidence that you can write, and write well enough people want to read it. When it comes to poetry, just start submitting. Get familiar with the process, and educate yourself on things like simultaneous submissions and a good rejection. Publishing is an ever-changing game that isn't cut and dry in any language or country. We can't tell you what's best, but my advice is to go with your gut and try your best. Don't be afraid to try again, too.

Everyone overthinks their writing. Or at least, everyone I know who writes does. Honestly, in my opinion, if you're not overthinking at least a little bit, you're not worried enough. You will never be able to fully know whether you've explained or described enough. A good chunk of the experience is up to the readers, so you have to leave them some wiggle room for imagination. But that doesn't mean you have to cheapen your story or short-change your characters. You mention specifically that you're POC, which I'm gonna guess also means that your characters will be POC. It's never too much to specify the race/ethnicity of your characters, even in a fantasy work. How you go about writing those descriptions might need to change but it's kind of like chocolate chips, in my mind: you decide those things with your soul.

So, there you have it. A ridiculously long way to say: you're awesome, you do you, practice, love yourself and your writing, and don't be afraid to put yourself out there (in any way).

(images read:

Anonymous said: Im writing a book based in Oxford in 1950s. how was the language different from now. I am not from an English speaking country at all. Never been outside my country either. And Im going to write a book based in England in English

Anonymous said: Hi there, I’m a writer for almost 3 years now but since English isn’t my first language I get discouraged easily if things I write come off strange to myself. Do you maybe have any advice for me, on how to motivate myself and not comparing myself with native English speakers? Thank you in advance!

Anonymous said: Hello! I starting to work on this shortfic but it’s been really hard. It’s like I’m trying to building a house alone and with my bare hands. Even though I’m already used to write in mother tongue. Any advice for non-english speaker trying to write their first story in English?

Yaelburstine said: Hi. Do you have any tips about how to write a good fight scene and curses that people speak English get cus’ it’s not my first language

gyger said: I am not a native english speaker, but most of the books I read are in english and I generally prefer writing in english as well. However, I am worried about making mistakes that I can’t recognize myself. I have no idea how good my english is to a native english speaker, plus some things are easier to write in my native tongue (such as dialogue). I’m also worried about publishing, since that definitely would be easier in my country than abroad. How do I decide what language to choose?

Anonymous said: As a POC writer and English as their second language, I overthink all the writing I do. I feel like I don’t describe my ideas thoroughly or my character descriptions are vague or not good enough. I’m currently working on a YA novel but I plan on writing a YA fantasy novel but I feel like my lack of vocabulary and grammar structure makes me give up on finishing my book. Is this normal for native English speaking authors or is this considered a language barrier thing? Thanks! Love your blog!

Thank you for your questions, and for your patience as we do our best to answer them.

-S

[star-spangledstud]

THE CURE KEEPER - two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (female!)reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t even like pool. The team gets back from their mission. 

Word count: 3100-ish. 

Warnings: none

A/N: I don’t have an upload schedule or anything, I just post whenever a new chapter is finished ;) I also don’t have anyone to proofread for me, so there might be a few mistakes here and there (of course I do my best to check my spelling/grammar). English isn’t my first language!

The Avengers Tower, New York City, USA. 13 May 2018, 3:23 a.m.

He doesn’t realize he’s shouting until he’s woken up by the sound of his voice spewing profanities and pleas in Russian hidden behind a thick, American accent. There’s heavy breathing to break the deafening silence of his room that causes his chest to rise and fall in irregular motions, and his fists are curled around damp sheets as if he’s afraid he’ll fall deep into the abyss if he lets go. He’s sweating profusely and his entire body trembles as he tries to remember where he is.

Bucky turns over in his bed, twitching eyes falling on the alarm clock on his nightstand. It’s nearing 4 am, which means it’s nowhere near a respectable time to be awake, but he can’t help it. Most of the events that occur within his dreams he can’t remember ever taking place, but he knows they’re real because he’s been told what kind of person he used to be. The things he used to do remain inside him as stories, narrated by the people that judge him for them. 

Bucky’s dreams are flashes of people donned in clothing from different periods of time and weapons of varying intricacy, one as dangerous and deadly as the other. He surely doesn’t remember the bow, but it was there in his hand, the rope tight against his cheekbone and ready to wreak havoc. He woke up moments before letting the arrow fly to its target, but didn’t need to see it. He knows even in his current state of fighting between sleep and being awake what the aftermath would look like.

He frantically searches for five items in his room to calm himself down, five random objects to help him shift his focus from the hellish images of people dying at his hands to tangible objects. It’s a trick he’s learned from Sam and although the guy gets on Bucky’s nerves, he has some good words of advice, because it works every time. 

Cream-colored curtains, dresser filled with clothing, dirty t-shirt on the floor, coat hanger on the doorknob, just one more.

When he’s calmed down his breathing enough to remember his name, he hears something that draws his attention. It’s strange, because for one, it’s the middle of the night, and two, everyone’s still gone. Everyone except for you and Bruce, who’s most likely sleeping in the lab. The sound, soft yet unmistakably clear to his overly sensitive ears, is that of a record player, which quietly elicits jazz music from its speakers. It sounds old, he can tell from the static and the poor quality of the recording, but it’s younger than he is because although he might recognize the artist’s name if you were to tell him, he surely doesn’t remember hearing this song before.

Lampshade. That’s it. Breathe. 

He’s up in an instant, covers swept carelessly to the side as he rises, and he doesn’t bother with fluffy socks to keep his feet from chilling against the hardwood floors or to keep himself from sliding across. He knows the sound is coming from you, because the wall that separates you from him is also the wall that separates him from you, and it's coming from the other side. The hallway is dark when he sets foot in it, but a small slither of light is coming in from underneath the crack beneath your door. That’s when he’s sure you’re the source of the sound. 

He knows you know it’s him who’s at your door because who the fuck else would it be, but he knocks anyway, waiting impatiently until he hears the unmistakable sound of feet clad in Adidas slippers shuffling to the door and you, yawning twice in a row, stand before him moments later. You’re not so silent now, but he decides to give you a break. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, and it’s not at all what he expected to come falling from your lips, “did I wake you?”

A fuck you, or a what the hell are you doing at my door at 3 in the morning sounded more appropriate in his head, but an apology didn’t even make it near the top of the list of things he expected you to say to him. You notice he doesn’t respond, and once again have the urge to wave your hands in front of his face. He zones out a lot, you think. 

“No,” he says finally, peering into your bedroom in search of the music, “no, you didn’t.”

“Then what is it?” you ask, hands with red painted fingernails holding the door frame through which you peeked at him.

“The music,” he points out, “can I listen?” 

You frown for a moment, searching his face for emotion. Anger, maybe, because you’re convinced you woke him up after all, or laughter at your expense, but you find none in his words and you find nothing of the sorts on his sweaty face. You let go of the door and step aside, allowing him inside your room for the first time.

It’s nothing and everything he expected at the same time. It’s cozy. A plush, white rug comforts his cold feet, and several fluffy pillows are stacked on your bed, leaning against the headboard. Fairy lights are strung up on the wall and serve as the only source of illumination, the same light that flooded out from underneath the door. You don’t say anything when he sits down at the foot of your bed, hands clasped in his lap, and his eyes on the ground. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, or Bruce Banner for that matter, to figure out something’s wrong with him. You’ve heard the screams. You know the stories, the myths that surround him. 

“It’s early 60′s Frank Sinatra,” you explain, “the next song is my favorite.”

“What’s it called?” He asks as silence between tunes fills the room, before soft drums queue the next song. 

“All I need is the girl,” you reply, smiling as you sat down next to him, “it’s underrated in my opinion.” 

He appreciates the fact that you don’t bring up his disheveled features, or the frown that seems permanently etched into his forehead. It’s not what he needs right now, a lecture, or words of advice. He needs distraction from what’s going on inside his mind and the one person who truly understands him is currently 5000 miles away fighting a battle Bucky himself wasn’t allowed to join. 

“I like it,” he replies, “it’s better than most of the music Tony’s been showing me.” 

Laughter erupts from deep within your chest. It’s a sound Bucky’s never truly listened to before, not even when you snicker next to him as Natasha’s secretly making funny faces at you during meetings that last for hours. It’s warm and makes his heart thump. It makes him feel human. 

“That’s because Tony only wants you to hear garbage,” you smile, “there’s plenty of good music nowadays, you just have to look for it.”

“I didn’t peg you for a jazz-enthusiast, Y/N.” He says bluntly. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, James.”

He doesn’t respond, because why would he? You’re right, he knows absolutely nothing about you, nothing other than your first name and that you like to read and can sneak up on people when they least expect it. This realization makes him get up, afraid to think he’s over-welcomed his stay just as the song comes to a soft end. 

You look tired, purple circles make your eyes less bright, and even though it appears you’re a night owl, he remembers even owls need to sleep sometimes, and so do you. 

“I’ll remember that,” he says, and with one last look back at you on the bed wearing pink pajamas with kitty cats on them, he leaves to return to his room, which suddenly doesn’t feel so homely anymore.

The Avengers Tower, New York City, USA. 15 May 2018, 11:10 a.m. 

After he’s done with his daily morning work out routine, Bucky Barnes heads back to his room to take a well-deserved shower. He hasn’t seen you in two days, which slightly worries him, although it’s not that hard to disappear in a building as large as the tower. You could be anywhere at any given time. Just because you share a room on the same floor, doesn’t mean that’s where you are. Besides, he’s had his fair share of keeping track of people’s whereabouts. He doesn’t want to do that anymore.

Despite this, he finds himself looking for you, keeping an ear out just in case you decide to once again sneak upon him. He wants to ask you if he can borrow the record you were playing earlier, but the question that’s been heavy on his tongue gets swallowed down his throat when he finally does see you again.

You’re seated on one of two wooden benches by the pond out back, legs dipped in shallow, murky water while you’re reading yet another book. He begins to wonder if that’s all you do because he can’t recall ever seeing you not holding at least one in your hands. You have red heart-shaped sunglasses on to shield your eyes from the sun, which brings its powerful rays down on your bare shoulders without mercy. You’re enjoying it, he can tell because you have a smile on your lips that’s so small he’s sure you don’t even realize you’re smiling. You enjoy the heat, it brings an airiness out in you that’s not there when it rains. 

He’s looking out the window now, praying to whatever god is listening to him that you don’t see him lurking in the shadows of the compound’s game room. 

After what feels like hours of eyeing you from across the yard, he turns back around, taking the pool cue between his fingers and twisting it mindlessly. He’s playing a game against himself, so he can’t lose. Still, he has a favorite side, the winning one of course. He doesn’t even like pool, even after three rounds of winning games he literally can’t lose, but he also doesn’t have any better ideas, so he begins to once again line up all the balls for a fourth round. 

“You winning yet?” 

He jumps, dropping the pool cue to the floor and three balls with it. They roll across the wooden floor, the sound so loud it reminds him of gunshots before all of them disappear from view.

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaims, placing his hands on the pool table to steady himself, “you scared me half to death.”

“I’m not Jesus, sorry,” You, looking up from your book, smile gently, “you were very concentrated.”

“I’m a bit of a sore loser,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck before picking up the wooden stick he lost moments ago, “even against myself.” 

You hum, before skipping past him to the bookshelves on the wall. You see him watching you intently, which causes you to turn around slightly so you can see his face.

“Glad I didn’t join you, then. I never lose.” 

He remains silent, wondering for a moment if you would’ve played with him had he asked. Probably not. 

“I read this one already,” you explain, motioning to the book in your hand, “twice, actually. It was better the first two times. I can’t get myself to finish it a third time. The ending’s too sad.”

The only plausible reason for the sudden increase in conversation on your part is that, well, you’re just as bored as he is staying alone in a house big enough to accommodate well over a hundred people, but that instead of playing a game of pool against yourself, you chose to read. Apparently, even reading gets boring to you, or maybe reading the books available to you has become boring. Bucky’s not sure.

“Would you mind putting this back for me?” You ask, holding the book in your hand out to him.

He sees the empty spot at the top of the shelf almost immediately and realizes quickly you’d never be able to reach it without a ladder or at least a chair. 

“Sure,” he mumbles, placing the pool cue on the table and walking towards you. 

“Steve usually does it for me,” you explain, “but he’s still gone.” 

His heart twitches slightly, and he’s not sure why. Jealousy, probably, but he refuses to give in to the idea of being jealous of his best friend just because he gets to be the one to help you reach for something so stupid as a book. He doesn’t even know you, and he sure as hell doesn’t know what type of friendship you have with Steve. He’s never studied your interactions before and he doesn’t keep tabs on his best friend’s acquaintances. 

He reluctantly takes it from you, lifting it by the spine with just two fingers as if it’ll crumble beneath his touch if he applies even the smallest amount of pressure. He puts it back without much effort, only required to stretch his body a little to reach the shelf. His shirt hardly rides up. 

“Can I have that one?” You ask, pointing in the general direction of the highest books. 

“Which one?” he replies, looking at the spines lined up in perfect alphabetical order. 

“The green one,” you say after some thought, “I’m not sure if I’ve read that one yet.” 

He picks it up and hands it to you, allowing you to quickly scan the back cover before shaking your head. You give it back, he puts it back on the shelf. This continues for quite some time until finally, he grabs one you surprisingly haven’t indulged in. You open it up on a random page, nodding to yourself when you indeed confirm the word patterns are foreign to your brain. It’s thick, the heaviest one out of all of them, there’s a large crack in the spine and the pages are frayed. The title, which was previously painted on in gold letters, faded so much Bucky can’t quite make out what it says. He wonders why on earth Tony has so many books anyway. The guy doesn’t even read. 

You don’t even say thanks as you begin to skip away from him, leaving Bucky wondering what the hell just happened before he realizes you’re out the door. Then, he glances at the pool table, a groan erupting from his throat when he realizes he’s lost at least three balls he now has the privilege of trying to find. It takes him nearly an hour.

You’re not sure what compelled you to seek him out in the first place. You were perfectly content sitting outside basking in the sunlight, enjoying the scent of fresh grass and blossoming flowers while frogs and birds made their presence known in their funny ways. As such, it takes you a while to realize you’re curious. Curious to know what the infamous Winter Soldier is really like. You’ve lived with the guy for months, but have never so much as spoken more than a few words at any given time and it bothers you because something is lingering just behind the facade that draws you in more than you’re willing to admit.

Maybe it’s because his hands tell stories that go further than any book you’ve ever read. Their actions could fill novels, yet he doesn’t know how to put a single word on paper because he doesn’t remember any of it. It fascinates you beyond comprehension. 

You tried to stay away from him because you know it’s what’s best for everybody, but the screaming and howling at night, and the depth of the ocean in his eyes spike your curiosity and suddenly you find yourself wandering the halls in search of him, wondering what a man like him could be up to on a beautiful day like this. 

You really did not expect him to be playing a game of pool against himself. 

The Avengers Tower, New York City, USA. 16 May 2018, 1:44 p.m.

A book is in your hand when the others finally make it back the following day. To everyone’s relief, none of them are seriously injured, but Natasha needs an x-ray to make sure she doesn’t have a cracked rib, and you find it in yourself to leave the book - a new one, with a bird on the cover this time - you were reading before they arrived behind just long enough for you to accompany her to the medical bay. 

Bucky hugs his best friend close to his chest, glad to see he’s made it back without any major injuries. He knows Steve has the same serum coursing through his veins that allows him to heal in a very short amount of time, but he can’t help but worry nonetheless. It’s in his nature to take care of him, just like he used to do when they were in the previous century. Habits die hard.

“What have you been up to?” Steve asks as they follow each other back inside the compound. 

“Not much,” Bucky says nonchalantly, “relaxing.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. He knows Bucky doesn’t typically relax but chooses not to question his answer. Instead, Steve watches you skip gleefully after Natasha, telling her in grave detail how your last book, the one Bucky handed you, ended with a horrifying plot twist that left you shivering and shaken to your core. The redhead nods in your direction as Sam, who’s clearly not amused by your need for storytelling, uses his arm to support her weight. She’s intently listening to your expressive story, simply happy to be near you again because you offer normalcy in her crazy life.

It doesn’t take Bucky very long to realize Steve’s looking at you in the same way. Even Sam, whose teeth are gritted and whose lips are pursed in a tight line, has a twinkle in his eyes that Bucky’s never noticed before now. 

He realizes at that moment he can no longer push away his curiosity. There’s something buried deep inside him that’s nestled within his core, something that compels him to know more. He decides he’s going to ask Steve about you but closes his mouth the second he opens it because he knows now is not the right time for such questions. Steve’s tired, he can tell by the way his eyes droop and he’s dirty and smells like sweat and gunpowder, and Bucky can only imagine how badly his friend wants to take a shower. 

“What?” Steve asks with his eyebrow raised as he watches Bucky’s mouth move like that of a fish on land.

“Nothing,” Bucky says, “Just glad you guys are back.” 

“That bad, huh?” Steve jokes, punching him lightly in the shoulder. 

Bucky begins to follow him inside. 

“It’s been quiet, that’s all.” 

“Admit it pal,” Steve grins through his tiredness, “you’d be lost without us.” 

--

Taglist:

@justine-en​ @meghapillai

[97percentbunny]

Jeongguk or Jungkook? Let’s figure this out once and for all

My sister and two of her friends have recently become an ARMY and asked me a whole bunch of questions. Not so surprisingly they also asked me “why do people use either Jungkook or Jeongguk? which one should I use?” That is what sparked me to actually write a post about this. Also cuz I’m bored af at home. Didn't go out for almost a month so yeah here it goes.

But before we start I should note that English is not my native language; so, I apologize for any spelling mistakes, weirdly chosen vocab or oddly used statements beforehand.

First of all, I’ve been spelling his name as Jungkook ever since I became a fan in 2014. I’m not sure when  ‘Jeongguk’ became a thing but I know it definitely wasn’t popular up until a few years ago. I was quite surprised when I first saw some people using a different lettering for the maknae’s name. I even thought it was just a rookie mistake amongst newer international fans until I started seeing some popular twitter fan accounts joining in on this “bandwagon” -if you can even call it one- run by Korean and Int fans.

The exact time I realized this wasn’t only a few people writing his name differently, was when a Youtube fan fiction account added a thorough explanation in the intro of her video as to why she will start using Jeongguk from now on and warned the viewers of this change before being confused further into the video.

Apparently the pronunciation of Jeongguk in the English language sounds more like the Korean ‘Hangul’ version thus, some people decided that ‘Jungkook’ wasn’t relevant anymore and took it upon themselves to create a new version of the maknae’s romanized name. (Wow that kinda sounded aggressive but I swear I'm chill af)

Although this may be true for English, it is not so true for other languages whom also use the Roman Letters or it’s variations.  The word ‘Jungkook’ can be pronounced differently in each language that has adapted to the said letters in their own ways.  As a result does this mean we should all spell his name differently simply because it sounds better when read and pronounced in our own language? If so, I would be using ‘Conguk’ in every mention, hashtag, post, username, merch and whatnot simply because it actually sounds the exact same with the Korean pronunciation of Nochu. I’m definitely not shading fans native in English, in fact all my close ARMY fans that are native in English refuse to use this “accurate” version and prefer sticking to the good old jUAncOck... The one’s using Jeongguk aren’t only English natives but a lot of others use it as well. So this is not me shading a community whatsoever. It’s an individuals decision to choose what spelling they’ll use whether it’s right or wrong.

To further my point, the pronunciation of this spelling -‘Jungkook’ - in my language sounds totally far from and pretty much unrecognizable to the actual Korean name as well as the butchered versions we have heard on interviews that still kind of sound something close to Jungkook; yet, I choose to use this spelling simply because and sufficiently enough that's what HE himself uses. Even his famous signature includes this spelling of HIS own name. Moreover, Bigihit has been introducing him this way ever since his debut so I don't see a reason to change what has already been adapted to the public.

Heck even I would get annoyed if people refused to write my name in the way I write it even though they know how I write it. All in all, next to Junggoo I’m just a commoner who gets frustrated over smelly armpits on the subway or fights that tall person in the concert who has a giant tree of a hair coincidently standing right in front of my short ass, blocking the stage ooor complain about water being overpriced in a restaurant.  Some might think this post is pointless -which I don't exactly disagree- and say it's just a name why worry so much. Well yeah they might be right cuz in all seriousness I am mainly writing this for fun but there is still a point to my argument.

Juanita Junglebook is an “international pop K sensation sunshine rainbow” thus, his name is his brand. There is no reason to force a new spelling for a brand that has already took over the world.

Ultimately, I respect all your decisions on however the hell you wanna refer to  the all mighty golden cookie boy whether it would be Jeongguk, Jungkook, Jeom Jungkook (if y’all even remember that lol), Justin Seagull, Jeon Cena, Jungcook(shoutout to Charlie Pussy), Jungshook, Jungbook or JungidontgiveaFook, we all still have loving our fetus baby muscle pig playboy ironman SOOO so much, in common and that’s all that matters.

I love y’all, stay safe, stay home, good after noon, good evening and good night!

[llendrinall]

Hi, so im an aspiring writer. My writing is admittedly terrible since English is my second language (and funny enough its the Language I'm more proficient in) and I absolutely ADORE your writing. If it wouldn't be a bother, do you mind like maybe giving tips, advice and whatnot about bettering my writing and all that?

Hello anon,apologies for the delay, 2020 has been hard and unforgiving so far.

As for yourquestion. The most important piece I have to give is this: Writing is made oftwo parts, the form and the content. Learn this and learn it well. What makeswriting good or bad isn’t the form (the language) but the content*. You canmake spelling, vocab and grammar mistakes and still write a story so good thatit will pull readers past those mistakes, but if your content (your story)isn’t good no spell checker in the world can make it better. Just becausesomeone is a native speaker doesn’t mean they are also a writer, a storyteller.

So, don’tworry about your English and start writing and reading and writing. Eventuallyyour English will become better. If you are lucky, someone will come down themountains and out of the woods and will offer themselves to comb your text andremove mistakes. (That was my experience. Just be patient and the offer will come). 

That is themost important idea I have to share.

There aremany other writing tips but I find that reading other people’s advice doesn’twork as well as creating your own toolbox. So, rather than giving a list ofadvice, I will explain how I came to understand one technique and beable to use it. It may not be your case, but for me, reading writing advicejust gives me anxiety. I need it to be more organic to be able to use it.

 Show,don’t tell.- Thisis very, very, common advice and I think it is also quite misunderstood becausethere are times when telling works much better**. Show, don’t tell meansthat you should write action rather than description.

Personally,I call this advice the Dumas-Maquet. Dumas is the most successfulFrench-language writer and a fascinating historical character. Auguste Maquetwas his ghost writer. Maquet was responsible and hardworking where Dumas wasprodigal and extravagant. If this were a film, Dumas would be shown as a fakeand Maquet would be validated for his hard work. But this is not a film and thetruth is that Dumas had a storytelling talent that Maquet simply didn’t have.Dumas would pay Maquet to write out a given outline and then Dumas would fixit, giving the story colour and light where Maquet had only written a greyline.

I will giveyou a paraphrased example. In The Three Musketeers, at some point when theyare in La Rochelle they capture a spy. But the spy is murdered before he can beinterrogated. Oh, no!

Theystarred in horror at the dead man.- Is what Maquet wrote. At first glance it’s nota bad line. There has been a murder, people should be horrified. But,

D’Artagnanjumped to the window in pursuit of the assailant. Athos kneeled by the man whilePorthos let out an exclamation of horror. Aramis murmured a prayer over thecorpse..

I don’thave my copy at hand so the actual printed text will be different, but it’senough to compare. While Maquet wrote a general bland action, Dumas gavesomething to do to each character and it was something unique. Aramis is asoldier priest so of course he would be the one to pray. D’Artagnan is youngand dynamic so he is the one to jump to the window and try to catch theassassin. They are all horrified but we also know how they each live thathorror.

This helpedme a lot, truly. But a single example is rarely enough. Usually you will need apositive (an example of the technique used right) and a negative (an examplewhere it should have been used) for it to click in your mind.

The negativeexample was in a fic. The setting was one of those dystopian modern slaveryfics that were so trendy a few years ago. Four characters sat a at table and:

Theydiscussed the topic of slavery, each giving their opinion and agreeing that itwas bad.

I feltrobbed with that sentence and you should feel robbed too. Four characters satat a table and agreed on a topic, fine, but agreement doesn’t mean homogeneity.They must have different experiences, different perspectives. The character whowas rich and powerful and dedicated to freeing slaves couldn’t see things likethe freed slave or like the character who had only recently realize how bad thesystem is. You owe to your readers more, something like:

Theydiscussed the topic of slavery. X spoke at length of economics and a systemthat relied of free labour until Y mentioned that she didn’t know her parents’ names and froze everyone at the table. Z had always felt uneasy withthe topic but had never questioned it so thoroughly…

So withthis in mind, if I write about, say, Sirius Black, mentioning how handsome heis, I should show how his beauty feels to other people, how it makes them weakat the knees or gives them palpitations or is responsible for a sudden increasein enrolling in History of Magic because Sirius chose it as an easy electivefor his NEWTS.

 Read a lotand read critically. The more you read the more you will notice things likethese, and you will be able to create your own toolkit.

 * Don’tworry too much about the story either. Critics argue that there are between 6or 7 basic plots. That’s it. 6-7 stories that we keep telling and retelling. Soyour idea isn’t that original and it has been done, but no one has done it likeyou are going to do it so go ahead and write it. Yes, we do need anothercoffee-shop AU.

** I amvery fond of the inverse, tell, don’t show, when you show the actions ofa character through the words of another. Harry, get up and stopembarrassing yourself. So Harry must be in the floor doing something. It’sfrustrating if overdone, but in moderate doses it spices imagination.

[reddahliaa]

Enigma | Chapter 1

I didn't hit my 5000 words mark. It may seem rushed, so I do apologize. English is not my first language, and there may be some grammar and spelling mistakes.

Words: 3.3K

Enigma

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Chapter 1

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In Plain Sight

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-20 hours ago-

  “I want you to find her. After that, I’ll give you the power you desire.” The doctor requested the newly appointed king. He sat in his cushioned chair with Johnny on his lap, tweaking the little nomu. A photograph of a young girl can be seen on the large computer screen, which reflected on the glass tube the High Ends were. From an outsider’s perspective, it almost looks like a funeral yet at the same time a shrine. A shrine an obsessed, deranged man worships, Daruma Ujiko.

Ujiko stared at the photo with such sick affection in his eyes, fully aware of Shigaraki’s need for the research he put his life into. But he won’t give him that so easily. No, no, no, Ujiko wants something in return. He wants Shigaraki has to find you, the young girl in the photograph. 

  It’s been eight long years since Ujiko last saw you. You were just a mere teenager filled with life in your eyes, always so happy, which could make anyone’s day. But then one summer night, you just disappeared. Gone without a trace. Like you never existed. During those eight years, Ujiko didn’t just sit there, he desperately searched for you, but in the end, he couldn’t find you. 

  Not even your dead body. 

  “She should be grown by now. The picture I gave you was taken when she was just 14.” Ujiko continued talking to Shigaraki through the earpiece, while still tweaking the small Nomu. 

  “Don’t you have anything new?” Shigaraki asked the doctor, Ujiko could hear a slight annoyance in his voice. He must be referring to the picture he gave the young boy. The picture was old, and he even said it himself, you should be all grown up by now. Ujiko place Johnny on the floor and looked at the photograph. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he stared at your eyes. You looked so tired in the picture, after all, it was taken first thing in the morning. 

  “I told you, she’s been missing for 8 years. She was just starting high school when I last saw her. That’s the only one I have of her.” Ujiko lied.

  “Why do you want to find her all of a sudden?” Shigaraki questioned the doctor, who laughed at his childish question. 

  “You need a medic, don’t you?”

 Shigaraki needs a cold drink. Thinking about the girl Ujiko requested to find was giving him a headache. He was so close, so fucking close, yet so far away from the powers he craves for. You were between him and that power: The years of research, countless nomu and whatever else the doctor has up his sleeve. All that could be his right here and now if it weren’t for you. You were also between him and the reproduction of the quick erasing bullet.  

 “Get me a drink” Shigaraki demand Re-Destro for a drink, which the odd-looking man was more than happy to oblige. Quickly rushing out of the room to get his Grand Commander something to drink. 

 “Damn her,” Sigaraki muttered when Re-Destro left the room. The silence of the room was filled with the aura of frustration Shigaraki was giving off and the vintage ticking of a wooden clock... He needs to find you as soon as possible. 

 Shigaraki is currently in the main meeting room of Paranormal Liberation Front; only the Grand Commander and Lieutenants have access to. This room will hold every single meeting, plans, or whatever the hell the Grand Commander needs each Lieutenant for. It was his Throne room. 

 The Symbol of Terror sat in the center chair, which Toga referred to as his throne, which was at the end of the long, black glass table. It was the most expensive chair in the meeting room, which was made out of leather and screamed: “I’m the leader”. Mr. Compress said Shigaraki reminded him of an Italian mafia boss.

 Shigaraki took out his phone and searched for the picture the doctor gave him. He observed your foreign features, you don’t look Japanese yet you wore a Japanese uniform. Were you studying in Japan? How were you related to the doctor? He zooms in to the logo in your chest. It was a bit hard to read but it was there:

  -Tokyo Kajii High School-

  “Well, that’s a starting point.” Shigaraki rejoices at the sight of the yellow tread logo. 

 His finger accidentally touches the picture, which rolls up the picture to your eyes. Shigaraki red eyes stare at your pixelated ones, and deep within his raging heart, something wakens. 

  An alien-like and dangerous feeling.  

 Shigaraki knows deep down the doctor was hiding something from him.

 “Hey,” Shigaraki called out to Re-Destro, who came back into the meeting room, his hand holding a bottle of wine and a clean glass.

 “Y-Yes?” Re-destro, who has his attention immediately on Shigaraki, stutter in front of his leader. 

 “I need your men to find her,” Shigaraki ordered, holding the picture of the girl. 

 “She goes by (F/N, L/N).” Shigaraki continued giving your name to the pointy nose man.

 “I’ll get to it right away.” With that said Re-Destro bolt to get the job done. 

  “Skeptic should be able to find her immediately.” Re-Destro thought as maneuver his way through the maze-like hallway. Shigaraki meanwhile took the bottle of wine and pour some for himself. It tastes disgusting and bitter, but even with the disgusting taste of the wine in his throat, his lips curl into a wicked smile.

 He stared at her photograph again.

 “She hid for eight long years.”

 But not for long. 

 >>Main Quest Acquired<<

 >>Find the Girl<<

.

.

.

-Four days later-

.

-Two days before New Years-

.

11:30 pm

.

Lately, Shigaraki found himself staring at her photos a lot recently, and he doesn’t understand why. Was it her expression? Her foreign looks? There’s a lot of foreigners in Japan, yet she captured his eyes. What is it? He doesn’t know and it’s beginning to get annoying.  

 The hunt was taking so long, Shigaraki silently applauds her for hiding for so long. She has gone eight years without behind found. Most of her documents turned up nothing like she never existed. Her high school was shut down 4 years ago, and every single file on her “vanished”. There was no record of her family either, but there was something even she failed to notice in her “flawless” hiding. 

 In Japan, there are two individuals that go by (F/N) Lee and Juliet (L/N). Both of them foreigners, and both of them are the same age as the girl. One of them turns out not to his girl, he doesn’t have any news on Juliet (L/N) yet. As Shigaraki stood in front of the large window, where the moon and stars twinkle across the mountain range, he couldn’t help but feel good about tonight. 

  Tonight could be the day they find you. 

 In a room hidden away in the large hideout, a tall and lanky man can be heard typing away rapidly. The darkroom was filled with the rapid typing sound and the exhaust fan from the computer console.

 “We finally found her after four days of searching and she was hiding in plain sight.” The long banged man stated while typing away at his keyboard. 

 They found you.

 “It’s amazing how many precautions she took to hide. I mean, she used two different identities.” Another man with slick black hair and small mustache said while looking at one of the many computer screens. He stared at the old picture of the girl Shigaraki ordered to hunt down and the new ones his fellow Paranormal Liberation Front Lieutenants finally found. 

 The first thing that caught his eyes was her foreign looks and her emotionless expression. He began to compare both the older photograph and the most recent one. She still had the same emotionless expression, and yet her features had grown with her. 

  She’s absolutely breathtaking. 

 In one photograph, which was taken from a distant, She wore a plain white dress shirt and black pants which was taken in a quiet cafe in Tokyo called Meo’s. There’s also this one the man held in his hand, staring with a slight twinkle in his eyes, it's almost like she was surprised at whoever that took the picture. Almost. She still wore her stoic expression.

 As the man stares at the closeup photo, He could feel the blood rushing from his heart to his cheeks. His face was heating up as he stared at her bright eyes. His stare slowly began to travel down her luscious lips, which was tinted slightly in red lipstick. Perverted thoughts began to creep in his mind, only for the sound of paper printing snapped the man out of his stare.

 “She’s working for Yamada! AH!” 

 “Calm down, Skeptic.” 

 “I am calm, Trumpet!” Skeptic’s reply was quick, but his expression was filled with great annoyance. But Trumpet knows how much Skeptic loathe Yamada Crop. The Feel Good, Inc. and the Yamada Crop. has been rival for so long, and anything that has to do with the Yamada Crop. pissed the living life out of him. 

 “Who’s going to go get her?” Skeptic asked as he waited for the papers to finish printing.

 “I don’t know yet, Whoever he gives the order, I guess.” Trumpet answered. It all due respect to the New Grand Commander, Trumpet does not want to receive that order. As much as he wants the feeling of her skin on his, forcing her to come with him, He already has his plate full for the upcoming election...next year. But Trumpet knows he’s lying to himself, he doesn’t want her to dislike him...at all. 

 “I’ll hand these in. And I just hope it isn’t me.” Skeptic said in a calmly matter and got up from his chair. He took out a folder from the desk and placed all the paper in it, and wrote her name on the front in katakana. 

 Trumpet meanwhile looked at the most recent picture of the young girl--no...the woman. He secretly hopes she’ll come willingly without any fights, he doesn’t want her pretty face to be a wreck. 

 Back in the empty meeting room, Shigaraki look through the folder Skeptic just handed to him. It was filled with endless information about her current life. She works for the Yamada Crop: a giant multimedia company, which explains how she could live in Grand Garden Luxury Apartment in the Greater Tokyo Metropolitan area.

 “She was hiding in plain sight.” Shigaraki thought to himself while staring at her most recent photograph. He took a pic of her and sent it to the doctor. He looked through another paper, an invitation to an event that she’ll be in. 

  The Yamada Crop has invited you to our annual New Years Party. There will be a live performance, food--

 He stopped reading. It took four days, four fucking days, but here she is. He looked at her most recent photo once again, and a malicious smile crept on his face. 

 She most certainly has grown. 

 He must see you in person in New Years. 

.

.

.

The soft piano from Clair De Lune can be heard in the cold laboratory. One of the computer screens had a picture of a young girl, and next to that was another picture of the same girl...but grown. Ujiko walked toward his chair with an old leather photo album in his arms, which held some of his most treasured memories. 

 You.

 Those wonderful years he spent with you meant everything to him. Watching you grow whenever he visits. Whenever you would visit him, filling his day with joy and happiness. The way you would waddle your way to his embrace. The memories of you playing the piano for him with a peaceful smile on your face. 

  -Tempo rubato-

 And he’ll never forget the day when you awaken your quirk. 

 What a beautiful day that was. The horror in your face when you couldn’t control it, your scream echoed throughout the neighborhood, sobbing and screaming in your mother’s arm as she tried to comfort you. 

  And the car-size crater you left behind. 

 Oh, how he regrets not turning you into a Nomu back than! But to his relief, back than Nomu was just a concept, an idea, that he never imagined would ever come true. But soon, that idea came to flourish, and it was beautiful. 

 The day he went to your house, that was supposed to be filled with laughter and happiness, was empty and silent. Shelves were knocked down, books scattered everywhere. The glass windows were shattered, letting in the cold air of the night. The pictures of you and your family were broken on the wooden floor. There was a faint smell of gasoline lingered through the hallways. And there was blood. The house looked like a massacre and for the first time in his life, Ujiko felt an alien feeling running through his vein: fear.

  He lost you.

 That was the day he wanted to use your quirk to make nomu, it was going to be his offering to his lord: All For One. The Nomu with your quirk...with your DNA, would’ve been more perfect than the High Ends. 

 You were supposed to be the mother to all of the perfect nomu. But as he looks through the baby pictures of you, Ujiko was happy he scrapped that plan. He got a better plan in mind. He’ll still put you to good use, no doubt. 

 Ujiko hopes you can bring his God back to his prime. 

  Once he's done with you, you’ll be offered up to All for One.  

 Ujiko turned off the music and contact Shigaraki once more. If you’re going to be here, then he’ll need one more piece for this reunion. 

 “I have one more job for you...I need you to bring me Nines…”

.

.

.

Two train ride away in Tokyo, pass the park that leads to the Grand Garden apartments, your eyes snapped open, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. You were breathing heavily, your hair was sticking to your sweaty face. Your eyes were red from waking up suddenly, stinging as you blinked rapidly.

 You had a nightmare again. A nightmare about him, and the incident from the summer night. These nightmares were almost like a memory you relieved over and over and over again. 

  It is a memory.

 You heard children playing outside, and the light trying to peek through the curtains. You breathing soon calmed down, the pounding of your heart went back to normal. But your clean and quiet apartment was soon filled with the buzzing of your phone.

  “It’s already morning?” You thought as you sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone; There are 2 missed calls, 4 text messages, and 2 emails from your workplace.

 It was January 1st, 3:00 pm.

 “I overslept…” You muttered to yourself, which sounded more like a question. Normally you would wake up early and get on with your days. You check the missed call, which was from your boss: Shuichi Yamada. It was supposed to be your day off, so you wonder why he was calling you. You called him and waited patiently for him to pick up. He was a busy man, so it didn’t surprise you when the phone went straight to voicemail. 

 “He’ll call me back...In the meantime, I’ll take a shower.” You said to yourself and began to stretch when you got up. The satisfying sound of your bones cracking would tell outsiders that you had a good night rest but in reality, you felt the exact opposite. You’re still so exhausted, both physically and mentally. You wanted to go back to bed and sleep for a few more hours, but that wasn’t healthy. You have to get up and start with your day.

 Your feet began to move toward the bathroom, the cold hardwood floor gave an odd sensation on the warm sole of your feet. Once you entered the bathroom, you shut and locked the door. Even in the privacy of your own home, you tend to lock the bathroom out of habit. You always had a strange thought in the back of your mind, that someone may be watching you. 

 You discard the tank top and shorts, leaving your naked skin screaming for any warmth in the cold bathroom. You turn the warm water in the bathtub and let it fill up, during this time you began doing your daily routine; brushing your teeth, scrubbing your skin with a wonderful smelling body wash, and cleaning your hair. 

 “The bathwater is ready” You heard the robotic Japanese lady say. You finished cleaning your skin and entered the bathtub. 

  “Ah~ this feels so nice.” You thought, letting your stiff body relax in the warm water. A small smile formed on your face, it was moments like this where all of the worries and anxieties just seem to vanish from your mind and body. You’ll spoil yourself for 15 minutes because once you get up from the bathtub, all of the worries and anxieties will rush in like a tsunami. You closed your eyes and began to inhaling and exhaling in a small meditation ritual. You blocked out everything except the water dripping from the faucet and began matching your breathing with the drops. 

 With each breathing, you allowed your mind to wander off to a small, happy memory of your childhood. The memories of laughter, the smell of baked treats your father would make you, and the sweet lullaby your mother would sing as she brushes your hair. They were such wonderful and warm memories. 

 Reality slapped you with the harsh ringing from your phone. You got up and quickly dried your skin and warped yourself in the fluffy white towel. Rushing to your room, you quickly answer the phone before it hit the 6th ring. 

 “Hello?” You greeted your boss while securing the towel around your body tightly.  

 “Heyy! (L/N), I was just checking up on ya. You’re still coming right?” Suichi said in an enthusiastic voice and got straight to the point. You didn’t answer him, what the fuck was he talking about? 

 “(L/N), you forgot didn’t you?”

  “Damn it! He’s talking about that party! I don’t want to go…” You thought in annoyance as he began ranting about the important people that’ll be there. You wiped your free fingers on the hem of the fluffy white towel.

 “I don’t--”

 “Please don’t embarrass me! I’m begging you, please come!” Yamada didn’t even let you finish as he begged. You signed, there’s no way through him. You wanted to spend this day relaxing, which means staying home and watching a movie and sleeping! Not socializing with arrogant assholes who think they’re better than everyone.

 But you couldn’t say no.

 And so you agree, Yamada thanked you and hung up soon after. You placed your phone on the bed, looking at the wet floor made by your footprint, the peaking light from your curtain reflected on the footprints. And you began to rethink your choices. 

 Should you go? 

 Or should you stay?

 If you knew what was going to happen to you...what would you have done differently? 

.

.

.

That day, New Years, Shigaraki gave us a simple order. Keep an eye on you. I wished...back then...I wish I told you to run. To get the hell away from here…

  But I didn’t want to disobey him...

...Back than...I didn't know...

If I could go back in time...I would tell you to run. 

I wish I could...

Reader is a foreigner, this will be important later. Anyway I hope you enjoyed chapter one, I'm 1/3 done with chapter two, so I can't wait for you guys to read it. Chapter One does seem a bit confusing, I was actually going to something like that. But don't worry it'll make sense soon.

Thank you for reading.

[hellreads]

i feel like this is such a taboo thing to talk about, and i’m genuinely curious and not shading anyone here, but how do you go about correcting fics with a lot of grammar/spelling or other writing mistakes? and letting the authors know about it? i read this fic with such a good plot but i couldn’t bring myself to finish it bc of the amount of improper spelling and grammar which made it confusing to read. ik someone will call me out for being unappreciative but i’m rlly just trying to help them

hello there love, I felt this one, I have read so many stories that have potential but I tend to just drop them because of the grammar/spelling/writing errors present in their story because it’s a little exhausting for my brain to correct everything for it to make sense but there are so many things to consider as to why such errors exist;

1.) we’re all just humans and we make mistakes, making a few is inevitable, I myself am not perfect, no one is, sometimes when we get so pumped up with inspiration we just type and type and type and look past any error, I’m not a writer so I don’t know any writing process one follows (also everyone has different styles and approach when it comes to writing and editing) some edit on their own and some have beta readers/editors so coming across fics with minimal to maximal errors is bound to happen.2.) we need to consider (and check their profiles or notes) that English must not be their first language, I once came across a very very promising story somewhere out there, the author explicitly stated and apologized for any mistakes because English isn’t her first language, I loved the story but eventually got frustrated and exhausted because I had to correct everything in my head (if you’re anal about fixing/correcting everything you’ll get me) It wasn’t her fault but if someone would help her she’d improve greatly, this applies to everyone, we just need someone who’s brave enough to send constructive criticism that will help us see our faults and room for improvement. (I haven’t checked her stories again, but hopefully, somebody is helping her or she’s studying the language to improve slowly but surely)~ now this is the tricky part I don’t think wanting to correct fics with errors is a basis to call someone unappreciative (well depending on how you approach the authors will dictate whether or not you’re being mean and unappreciative towards them and the pieces they hold dear to them) I know you mean well, it’s like a way of saying I love you and I want you to be better and I’m not being a grammar/spelling/writing police here but I have to that’s why I want to inform you that there are some mistakes on this chapter/line, etc. but then again we all have different personalities and some may take whatever you say lightly or some will get defensive that’s why some just let it go afraid to hurt or piss off the authors. If you really want to reach out and discuss your concerns with them I suggest:a.) before sending in an ask try to check their faq/about/profile/carrd page to see any info that might suggest or say that English isn’t their first language so you could construct a message that wouldn’t sound offending or anything (view some of their answered asks as well to get a feel on how they respond to people and certain topics so you know what to expect) or you could always direct message them if they allow messages from everyone;b.) re-assure them that you mean well, use gentle words because we all have a life to live and we don’t know their current disposition so always be kind with your words;c.) if they retaliate and don’t take your words well then that’s a sign to back-off, as much as I am an advocate for understanding and giving chances if they respond rudely or ignore it may only mean three things;1.) the story (if specific) you’re trying to discuss for possible grammar/spelling correction is probably written a long time ago and they have no intention of revisiting the story, they’re probably inactive too or maybe they have a future plan of remastering said piece.2.) they probably over-analyzed your request/advice, it may take some time for them to respond or just ignore you and correct stuff on their own. (I believe some get anxious whenever someone pays too much attention to every detail on their work, it’s overwhelming like wow somebody read my story but I might have disappointed them with my mistakes, I’ll fix it and do better moving forward)3.) they don’t care, as simple as that either you read their story as is or just drop it if you can’t handle any errors. (but I doubt there are ones like this? especially this concerns their writing because authors always listen to their readers as long as they’re not rude and have only the best intentions as a reader/supporter of their stories)d.) if they respond, try to point out as much as you can without being overbearing, some are still learning and are appreciative of people helping out to polish their pieces, if they don’t have a beta reader/editor and is looking for one you could also offer your help if you’re available or know anyone who is a pro or interested beta reader/editor, plus there are perks when helping them out, one, you gain a new friend, two, you get to hear them out before writing anything, your input matters, and you get to read their works in advance, three, their success is your own too (it’s like giving birth, you could be the doctor/midwife, depending on the amount of input and help you’ve provided)I guess that’s it (at least in my opinion), I think most authors are okay with constructive criticism because it means somebody wants to help them be better, somebody read their works or paid attention to their stories to see those areas where they could improve, somebody wants them to blossom into an amazing but humble author in this side of the fandom ~ my only wish is that when sending such criticism make sure you mean well and it’s for the best and not just simply attacking them instead of helping them be the better and improved version of themselves. and to the authors, if you feel like their request is a little overwhelming it’s okay to take time to respond instead of answering right away without fully understanding their intention but if they’re being rude, harassing you, and feeling entitled in any way, by all means, go fight them, they don’t deserve you and your works!anyways, I wish you the best in trying to help this author out, you are a lovely one for wanting them to be better, may we have more readers like you who’d go out of their way and help authors improve. | 🍒

[patatacosmica]

Drarry Fanfics’ Recommendation (masterpost)

I’ve been postponing this for too long! 

And then I were working on it for five days and I though I would die before finishing it! But here it is, finally! *cries*

The organization of this post is a little bit rubbish, but I hope that you enjoy the fanfics if you decide read some :) Also, english isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry if there’s some grammar mistake or misspelling :___

Enjoy! <3

CANON COMPLIANT

Perfección, by OneMinuteBlack

Harry Potter tenía una vida perfecta: tenía una esposa a la que amaba, tres maravillosos hijos, una familia cálida y numerosa. Era el Jefe del departamento de Seguridad Mágica  más joven de la historia y la prensa por fin había dejado de atosigarle. Todo era perfecto. Todo, hasta que su hijo Albus decidió invitar a su mejor amigo a su fiesta de cumpleaños. Entonces descubrió que la vida no era tan perfecta.

31 chapters

Spanish

Explicit

Are you mine?, by gracerene

A trilogy of fics set in an Epilogue-Compliant Harry Potter 'Verse, with various accompanying time-stamps and one-shots. Fics are in chronological order.

Three fanfics + one-shots (91.008 words)

English

Explicit

MY FAV CANON COMPLIANT FIC!! Also, one of the three fanfics it’s a Jeddy fanfic <33

Dating Potters, by GoldenTruth813

Scorpius and Albus have been together for awhile now and decide it's time to have a family dinner and come out to their fathers. What they're not counting on is the fact that they're not the only ones with secrets to share. A story in which innuendos are made, hoodies are worn, secrets are revealed, and Albus hides under the table, though not necessarily in that order.

7.733 words

English

Mature

PERFECTION! I mean, this has Drarry and Jeddy and Scorbus and it’s absolutely perfect. Plus, it’s illustrated! I love this one :__

Freedom to be, by Quicksilvermaid

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.

12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.

Only nothing feels perfect.

Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

19 chapters (169.540 words)

English

Explicit

OMG THIS FANFIC!! Mix Drarry + BDSM + poweful!Harry and you’ll have my heart forever and always <3

Fate has different plans, by MarchnoGirl

Harry drew in a breath.

The man must have felt him, because he spun his head towards him, leaving Harry completely speechless. He was wearing a white mask, covered in plumages and diamonds around the eye holes. The diamonds were almost too shiny in the darkness of the room and made the man’s eyes pop out more evidently: they looked like liquid silver. Or, where some casual anal fingering changes Harry’s destiny.

3 chapters (24.336 words)

English

Explicit

Why have this boys to insist in being so angsty? I don't wanna suffer (well, maybe I do)

Play dates, by bixgirl1

Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.

7.722 words

English

Explicit

Draco and Harry being dads is so sweet :___ Also, good old praise kink *wink*

Predictable little curses, by brightowl

Two single fathers. One rather inconvenient bonding spell.

14.481 words

English

Explicit

In this post you’re going to discover that I’m a sucker for bonding fanfic

 What you left, by MalenkayaCherepakha

Dear Mr. Malfoy, the letter began.

May I begin by extending my deepest condolences on the death of Mr. Potter. It is a great loss for all of wizardkind, and an even greater one for those who knew him personally.

I am writing to you today to inform you that Mr. Potter left you a bequest in his will; the key to Vault 467 at Gringotts. I do not know what the vault contains.

The key is currently in my possession, but if you would like to retrieve it, please do visit my offices at your earliest convenience.

My deepest sympathies once again,

Yours sincerely,

Mr. Alexander Stewart

Draco didn’t understand. Why would Harry leave him the key to his vault?

3983 words

English

Mature

Don’t read this fucking fanfic. It’s going to break your heart. This is the most angsty thing I’ve ever read, I swear.

HOGWARTS EIGHTH YEAR

Tug-o-want, by dysonrules

Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own business when he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and over again.

16.664 words

English

Mature

Not exactly a bond fic, but... more or less.

Dreaming of Harry, by Writcraft

The first night Draco Malfoy dreams of Harry Potter, everything changes.

11.377 words

English

Explicit

Draco is so soft, I need to hug him :___

Hey, Potter, by SunseticMonster

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

16.024 words

English

Mature

This is so funny, they’re so idiots... But the thing with the ghosts :(((

Candy, by bixgirl1

It was only after careful consideration that Draco came to the wildly preposterous conclusion that he and Potter were actually friends.

Sweet fic. May cause cavities.

5.858 words

English

Mature

THIS IS SO FLUFFY ASLKJALKSJD I love oblivious Draco :’)

It’s joggers season (or so the muggles say), by carpemermaid

Everything about Draco’s life since May has been one bloody long exercise in subverting everything he’s known, that’s expected of him, in an effort to get as far away from the mistakes he’s made—the wrong choices he was forced into. He’s returned to Hogwarts to take his N.E.W.T.s and everything is different—namely, Harry Potter strutting around in clingy joggers that Draco can’t get off his mind.

10160 words

English

Explicit

Kiss, by heyitsamorette

Harry and Draco are forced to kiss over and over again, because that’s just what happens to two arch-enemies around Christmas.

6 chapters (15.344 words)

English

Explicit

This is very cute :__

You cannot save people, you can only love them, by heyitsamorette

Upon returning for Eighth Year, there are so many strange things going on with Malfoy, Harry doesn’t know where to start. He won’t talk to Harry, but he’s talking to ghosts. He won’t apologize for his past, but the Black Family tapestry has crossed him off its tree. And the worst of it all, he still has that infuriating, snotty mouth on him that gets Harry’s dick hard as a rock drives Harry insane.

9 chapters (51.732 words)

English

Explicit

Let it burn in hell, by ImmortalAcorn

Pansy is a cow. It’s unbearable. This whole year will be horrible, I can already tell.

or

Draco hates the stupid diary and he will not be caught dead writing in it.

Not complete! 126/151 chapters (33.593 words)

English

Mature

I love this one ‘cause it’s written like a diary and I think that isn’t common (?)

before & after, by endoftheline7

Loving Harry James Potter was this: soft, extended longing, stretching out forever in his heart, only faltered by the knowledge that having Harry Potter's love would be entirely different. It would be bright and coarse and real. It would be that brash Gryffindor nerve translated into feeling, and Harry's hands would be rough when they cupped Draco's face and his lips would be bitten raw and chapped with cold and perfect, perfect, perfect.

It would be. If he had it.

2 chapters (23.942 words)

English

Mature

MY POOR HEART! MY POOR BABY DRACO!! The first chapter hurts so, so much... But the second *^*

Dragon’s Hide, by featherflairs

“Finally got me on my knees, eh Potter?” Draco smirked up at him, scandalously close to flirting as he placed Potter’s foot on the scale.

“Could you please carry on?” Harry coughed, awkward when faced with his brashness.

Draco gave a dry smile, writing down his measurements and reaching for Potter's other foot.

“You should consider yourself lucky. I’m usually quite picky with who I service.”

14 chapters (61.156 words)

English

Explicit

Draco’s working as a Quidditch boots’ maker and living in Hogsmeade. Harry is in Hogwarts for the 8th Year. And then the drarry happens :D

The Nightmare Club, by Elle Gray

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn't. Harry hasn't decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he's responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don't worry, there's tea! 

16 chapters (85.073 words)

English

Explicit

Harmonised Consciousness, by Talizora

"Potter's spell is still active, but I can shield my thoughts from him. I've been stirring him up all afternoon! It's hysterical!"

Blaise gasped, "It's still active! But it's… Dinner time!"

"Yes, so?"

"S-so? That spell is supposed to cancel itself after an hour! It's been, almost four hours!"

Draco shrugged, "I'm not worried. It's probably due to Potters magic. I'm sure it'll time-out eventually."

Blaise frowned, "Draco I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe you should end the spell?"

"No way! Blaise! I can hear everything! Before, in Runes, Potter was ranting about how he wanted to kill Weasel and Trelawney! He's all over the place! I had no idea he had such homicidal tendencies!" Draco giggled.

One of Blaise's eyebrows rose, "…Draco? Did you just giggle?"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

3 chapters (24.318 words)

English

Explicit

BOOOOOONDIIIIIING *^*

Something I don’t want to stop, by  lq_traintracks

It's Harry and Draco's eighth year, the Houses have been all but demolished in favor of unity, and they're being forced to room together. How ever will they cope?

16.228 words

English

Explicit

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Love comes tumbling, by taradiane

'Harry's thoughts were of how much he would have done differently with Malfoy over the years, and of Dumbledore's final words to the other boy . . . "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." Maybe, Harry wondered, he could find some mercy, too, and give Malfoy the second chance that Dumbledore had believed him worthy of.'

22.221 words

English

Explicit

(Un)Calculated Risk, by loveglowsinthedark

He thought about the way Harry looked at him, smiled at him; about the way Draco’s head was nearly always full of him, all day every day, and about the way Draco sometimes deliberately went to bed still smelling of him, refusing to acknowledge what it meant – because he already fucking knew what it meant. What all of it meant.

And then Draco decided, fuck it, he was going to risk it. They were going to risk it together, Harry and Draco.

6.917 words

English

Explicit

So sooooft :___ And so smutty *smirks*

Slip into my lover’s hands, by lq_traintracks

Draco licks his lips. He shuts his eyes, because he doesn't think he can look at Potter when he says it. When he asks for it. "One finger?"

5.933 words

English

Explicit

Good old smut~ I found this fic thanks to this fantastic fanart <3

 In evidence of Magical Theory, by bixgirl1

When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible.

In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead.

7 chapters (43.747 words)

English

Explicit

ACCIDENTAL BONDING LAKSAJLJKDLSJD

The ties that bind us, by Faith Wood

An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

27.890 words

English

Explicit

It’s not exactly a bond fic, but it’s very funny!

The standard you walk past, by bafflingaze

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

14 chapters (46.202 words)

English

Mature

THE CUTENESS!!! OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Right hand red, by  lq_traintracks

Harry felt Malfoy's breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory.

Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

3 chapters (73.173 words)

English

Explicit

The bois playing muggle games and being awkardly in love

Rarely pure and never simple, by motleygrrrl

"Is stalking me some sort of compulsive need of yours or something?"

Harry Potter won't stop following Draco around—no matter where he goes, Potter is there, watching. And Draco knows what that means—Potter is clearly planning his death, despite what Blaise and Pansy think. Because if it's not murder he's after, what else could it possibly be? And how could Draco find a way to use that information to his advantage?

Not complete! 4/? chapters (35.006 words)

English

Explicit

HOW CAN BE THIS SO CUTE?!?!? Draco’s so cute falling in love for Harry and Harry is so in love already :______

Through the looking glass and what Draco found there, by magpie_fngrl

Draco discovers the Mirror of Erised is a portal and he enters an alternate reality where your deepest desires come true. Or how Draco found himself in the world of his dreams and Potter had to come and ruin it.

2 chapters (17.440 words)

English

Explicit

This is cute and sad and cute ;___; I feel so sorry for my baby Draco :((

Lumos, by birdsofshore

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

41.746 words

English

Explicit

I promise you, it’s cuter than it seems, hahahah

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (again) (this trope is everything)

The romantic prawn who loved Christmas, by bixgirl1

When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess.

What comes as a complete shock are Potter's other activities...And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him.

2 chapters (39.404 words)

English

Explicit

More roommates ^^ This is so funny and smutty :___

Beautiful meanings in beautiful things, by dwacos

After a cocky comment from Malfoy and a (totally, 100% justified) punch in the face from Harry, Malfoy ends up with a bruise on his cheek that just doesn't seem to want to go away, no matter what is attempted. Harry's confused by his Amortentia smells, Malfoy keeps asking him to punch him (literally,) and everybody seems to think that they can just tell Harry that he isn't straight anymore. On top of all of that, Harry now has to figure out what the fuck to do when you find out that you've got a soulmate. A fucking soulmate.

2 chapters (76.944 words)

English

Explicit

Wow, another soulmates/bonding fanfic, what a surprise *insert pikachu’s meme here*

Then comes a mist and a weeping rain, by Faith Wood

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

21.139 words

English

Explicit

THIS IS SO FUNNY!! Draco is a grumpy kitten <3

In need of a proper hug, by Faith Wood

Draco rescues a poor, poor koala, which won't stop hugging him. Inspired by this pic of DanRad hugging Jack Huston aka Jack Kerouac in Kill Your Darlings, and this comment: "I've decided that he is part koala, and I think you should write a story where Harry becomes an Animagus, turns into a koala, and clings constantly to Draco." Beware of cute. Bring a toothbrush.

2.086 words

English

Mature

THE FLUFF!! KOALAS!!!! MY HEART!!!!!!!!

An issue of consequence, by Faith Wood

Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he's Draco's boyfriend.

5 chapters (20.798 words)

English

Explicit

This one hurted so much :( But there’s a happy ending, I promise <3

Written on the heart, by who_la_hoop

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?

20 chapters (113.984 words)

English

Explicit

AND THEY WERE S O U L M A T E S

Say my name, by Thunderbird587

Harry witnesses something unexpected in the 8th year boys' showers and starts to see Draco Malfoy in a whole new light. The question is now, what is he going to do about it?

A coming of age Drarry tale about letting go of the past and building the future.

21 chapters (199.135 words)

English

Explicit

I have a special affection for this fanfic, because it made me realize the bad things about the relationship of Harry and Ginny and that’s always a good thing (?)

Things worth knowing, by Femme (femmequixotic)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that's not even addressing the fact that Potter's got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he's forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn't it?

10 chapters (164.523 words)

English

Explicit

I think this is my favourite Hogwarts Eighth Year fanfic. All the thing with the hate towards the Slytherin House and DRACO DRESSED UP AS HYPNOS OMG WHAT A BLESSING <33 Also, Ravi is the best and the talk :___

Alliges Duplicia: Bound, by Anonymus

Harry and Draco both go back to Hogwarts for the 8th year. Harry goes because he skipped his 7th year, and Draco goes because he failed his.

The get stuck working together on a Potion’s project because they both skipped the same class in which pairs were chosen. Due to the clumsiness of another student, their brilliant work turns into a disaster when, somehow, their magical energies get bonded together, which forces them to stay in close proximity to each other.

This isn’t a permanent situation, but it will take quite a bit of time for the proper officials to figure out how to unbind them, seeing as this type of instance is extremely rare. Somewhere along the way, Draco bonds with Harry in a different way. Enemies become friends, and friends become something more.

Not complete! 23/? chapters (76.089 words)

English

Explicit

Do you remember that I’ve lost a fanfic and was looking for it? WELL, I FOUND IT AND IS THIS! :D

Strangers, by LucyLightwood

The first time he sees Malfoy up there, he points his wand at him. And even though he knows he should leave, he decides to stay and sit as far away as possible while they both look over at the same set of stars. They shouldn't be sharing the same room or breathing the same air, but after a month of silent company, it's not Harry who crosses the line first.

Not complete! 24/? chapters (146.845 words)

English

Mature

I think this was one of the first Drarry fics I’ve read :__ They’re so soft, help ;__;

Harry Potter y las Cicatrices Invisibles, by OTPshipper98

Tras la Batalla de Hogwarts, todo el mundo ha perdido algo. Algunos han perdido a familiares y amigos. Otros han perdido la inocencia. Pero Harry Potter ha perdido la sonrisa; se ha perdido a sí mismo. Y la única persona que se siente como él es, para su sorpresa, Draco Malfoy.

61 chapters (253.651 words)

Spanish

Explicit

Okay, this fanfic competes with Things worth knowing for the first position of my favourites Eighth Year fanfics :___ 

The wolf pack, by dracogotgame

Nobody said achieving your animagus form was easy. Draco could handle being a wolf pup for a while, right? How bad could it be?

13.672 words

English

Teen and up audiences

The fluffiest thing in this galaxy <3

Friday night gossip, by jamesilver

“You two are my best friends, you know that. It’s just...” Hermione paused. “There are just things I can’t talk about you two with. It’d be too...weird. For all of us. It’s just a thing girls like to do, you know. We want to talk about our boyfriends, the guys we like—the cute things they do, the stupid things they do, all their quirks that we really like, our feelings about them."

After her friends were gone, Pansy Parkinson got her attention. "We couldn’t help overhearing.”

Draco leaned forward. “If you want to talk about crushes and feelings and your boyfriend, you can join our Friday night mani-pedi group.”

“Okay,” Hermione said.

“Good.” Pansy pointed at her. “Bring what colors you want for your nails. I’ll provide accent colors and decorating tools. Also, bring towels and whatever hair products you use. I bring drinks, Draco brings chocolate, fine something to add to that. Be at Draco’s room at nine on Friday.”

_____

Or, in which Hermione just wants to talk about boys and ends up becoming a small sort of matchmaker

(above is a heavily-edited excerpt)

6.424 words

English

Mature

I love the idea of Draco and Pansy being big drama queens and befriending Hermione <33

Tie me up in knots, by lauren3210

“Harry, are you wearing a Slytherin tie?”

2.065 words

English

Mature

KASHJJKDAJSDKLAJSDLAKJD (that’s the most coherent thing I can say about this fic)

Unexpected consequences, by lauren3210

Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn't know why he expected anything different.

7 chapters (39.192 words)

English

Explicit

OMG THIS FANFIC!! B O N D I N G <333

AUROR POTTER

Dueling, by heyitsamorette

Draco is an Auror trainee. They have dueling practice every week. All dueling really amounts to is a game of domination and submission.

Written for wand_in_a_knot for pasdexcuses' delicious prompt, "domination is the name of the game."

3.211 words

English

Explicit

Have yourself a kinky little Christmas, by keyflight790 & tsundanire

As the holidays loom, Harry feels the weight of everything and everyone he'd lost. Working as an Auror, while exciting hadn't filled him with the same kind of satisfaction he'd assumed it would. It takes one extremely kinky secret admirer to pull out a side of him he'd been pushing away since his youth, and actually make him want to come into work everyday.

12 chapters (21.433 words)

English

Explicit

The man in the scarlet cloak, by bixgirl1

There's usually a better time and place to participate in seduction than the Forbidden Forest. Unless, of course, it's Mating Season.

In which Draco is sneaky but not sneaky enough, Harry is confident but goes a bit mad, and the Trees are either incredibly romantic or just sort of perverts.

16.350 words

English

Explicit

This fanfic is fantastic! I loved the trees’ thing <3

Work it out, by GoldenTruth813

The Auror Trainees now have required gym time, and Draco is distracted by Potter’s equipment. His workout equipment, that is.

4.454 words

English

Explicit

Hourglass heart, by bixgirl1

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

5.252 words

English

Explicit

WHY ARE THEY SO IDIOTS?!?!?!

Draco Malfoy’s Stupendous Seduction Seminar, by Anonymus

Draco Malfoy offers to help his coworkers to improve their seduction techniques, with unexpected consequences.

8.700 words

English

Explicit

This one is so funny :__ Also, it contains the best kink ever aka praise kink (uwu)

Cauldron full of hot, strong love, by aibidil

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

4 chapters (80.466 words)

English

Explicit

THIS IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE!!!! You can’t imagine how much I loved this fanfic :___

Fake it til you make it, by mssldiaz

Draco hates soul marks. He hates all marks in general. Especially one that ties him to the Boy Wonder. Draco just wanted to finish his probation in peace and slowly remove himself from the public eye. Being soul matched with Harry Potter is definitely not the way to avoid attention.

Especially when he won't shut up about it.

A sort of Modern AU.

4 chapters (24.274 words)

English

Mature

I don’t believe in soulmates irl, but in fanfiction... oh boi 

Little Prince, Kneel, by Selly87

Almost immediately after the war, Harry Potter took his godson and Andromeda and left England behind. He returned five, nearly six, years later; changed, healed, and a very different man altogether. Now an extremely handsome bachelor in his late twenties, and with a promising career at the Ministry, he suddenly finds his life turned upside down after unexpectedly bumping into his former school nemesis, Draco Malfoy, Prosecutor Extraordinaire.

Is Harry going to be able to stay away from Draco? Does he even want to? And exactly how will Draco react once he discovers how the Saviour prefers to spend his free time?

Not complete! 40/70 chapters (209.400 words)

English

Explicit

I’M ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH THIS FANFIC, IT GIVES ME LIFE, CURES MY DEPRESSION, CLEARS MY SKIN!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA *dies*

This year’s love, by trishjames

This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love.

6 chapters (84.000 words)

English

Explicit

Dean is such a shit in this fanfic :((( Also, Harry and Draco being idiots *eyeroll*

Antlers and Ivy, by violetclarity

The thing is, Draco has always known he wouldn’t be able to marry his soulmate. Finding out his soulmate is Harry Potter shouldn’t change anything.

Or: soulmarks, a masquerade ball, and gratuitous use of The Daily Prophet as a plot device.

6 chapters (19.124 words)

English

Explicit

Write the way out, by carmemermaid

When Draco finally gets his first real assignment as a reporter for the Daily Prophet, he didn’t imagine that he would be given the Potter beat. Resigning himself to writing boring pieces about dull charity functions and various Auror missions, Draco is more than surprised when he follows Potter into Muggle London and discovers Potter’s secret.

14.578 words

English

Explicit

The Full Monty, by magpie_fngrl

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

9.860 words

English

Explicit

PROFESSORS

Of roses and dragonfire, by xErised

Years after That Kiss, Potter (and his new pet snake) appears again, this time as Hogwarts's Quidditch and Muggle Games instructor (what are Muggle Games anyway? Is this why Potter is swimming in the Great Lake wearing such a tiny pair of pants?), disrupting Draco's peaceful life as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It's bad enough dealing with one exuberant Gryffindor (Charlie Weasley as Care of Magical Creatures professor) on the faculty, and what's all the gossip about Potter courting Draco?

3 chapters (53.123 words)

English

Explicit

Asakdjslkdjas this is so cute and funny :__ And the Parseltongue kink, help xdd

Nosy niffler, by dracoismytrashson

Harry can't stop watching him. It's starting to feel a bit like sixth year, except this time he's a grown man with classes to teach and no time to obsess about his favorite subject: Draco Malfoy. Unfortunately, Harry's pet Niffler keeps stealing things from Draco and only Draco, making it entirely impossible for Harry to avoid confronting that stupid smirking face he most assuredly doesn't want to kiss.

6.582 words

English

Explicit

A secondary education, by Thunderbird587

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along. As Draco reckons with his ex-wife's infidelity and questions about his own sexuality, he finds himself going to an openly gay Potter for guidance. As their friendship deepens, Draco realizes that there is quite a lot that Potter can teach him. And that he is surprisingly ready to learn.

21 chapters (234.528 words)

English

Explicit

Not to be dramatic, but I would die for this fanfic

IN THE MUGGLE WORLD

Yours to keep, by dracoismytrashson

Some people think concepts like fate and destiny are romantic, but for Harry Potter, fate has always meant one thing: a swift kick in the arse. Why else would he cross an ocean to New York and enroll in Muggle university only to find Draco Malfoy living two doors down the hall? The universe and its twisted sense of humor can fuck right off.

A story in which two broken boys try to repair themselves halfway across the world. Too bad trauma doesn't care how far you run.

22 chapters (135.830 words)

English

Explicit

OMG I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS FANFIC! I think it’s my fav fic and without a doubt this Draco is THE BEST DRACO IN THE UNIVERSE <3333 Plus, the mental health is treated so well in this story, it’s a blessing. Seriously, this fanfic is everything ;___;

The lost bet, by Selly87

It is 2019 and Harry Potter, Ex-Auror turned full-time dad and writer of magical children's books, finds himself making a startling discovery about none other than his former school rival Draco Malfoy. Just where will this relationship, rekindled over several cups of exquisite coffee, lead those two men?

27 chapters (60.700 words)

English

Explicit

This is so sweet <3 Also, it triggered my need of coffee :__

The Magic Cat, by dot_the_writer

When Harry sees Draco Malfoy with painted nails and wearing an oversized jumper covered in cat fur, his obsession from school comes back in full force. Featuring supportive friends, cute cats and lots of Harry figuring out what he wants.

17.455 words

English

Explicit

CATS CATS CATS *^*

There’s no I in team, by JulietsEmoPhase

When Draco's babysitter cancels on him, he has no option but to bring his son to work, despite the fact he has an extremely important day ahead of him. Rescue comes from the most unlikely of places, and Draco ends up having a day he never could have planned, or hoped for.

Muggle AU, smut. Birthday present!

13.389 words

English

Explicit

Oh, the cuteness :___

Listen, the snow is falling, by dracoismytrashson

It's the coldest day of the year, and a blizzard is threatening to bury the city at any moment. All Draco Malfoy wants to do is get through his shift at the homeless shelter so he can go home to a warm cat and a comfy bed. Too bad the universe has other plans.

12.450 words

English

Explicit

I have a soft point for Draco trying to redeem himself and so does Harry <3

Highly (in)compatible, by gracie137

Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it?

37.300 words

English

Explicit

Me and the soulmates au, the soulmates au and me (a love story)

Anyone but him, by  RuArcher (Coriesocks)

Harry thought going to a Muggle university would be the perfect opportunity for a new start. He hadn’t counted on having Draco Malfoy as a flatmate.

19.323 words

English

Explicit

I laughed so much with this one, it’s so relatable xddd

CREATURES

In the red, by bixgirl1

When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there.

The last thing he expects is to fall in love with him.

5 chapters (45.629 words)

English

Explicit

This hurt a little bit :__

A Choice of Wings, by Lomonaaeren

A Choice of Wings is Harry's matchmaking business for Veela who have trouble finding mates. And Draco Malfoy is his most difficult client.

18.738 words

English

Mature

Harry Potter and the Maudlin Merman, by FleetofShippyShips

Not a proper series, more like, I might dabble in this AU and when I do I'll just post things as oneshots.

At some point after the war, Draco Malfoy was cursed and dumped in the lake at Hogwarts. 

2 one-shots (8.946 words)

English

Teen and Up Audiences & Mature

Merman!Draco is pure fantasy :___

Today, Forever, by Palendrome

As if his recent divorce and sleepless nights weren’t bad enough, a rash of escalating crimes against purebloods forces Harry and his team of Aurors to protect the riskiest target in all of Wizarding Britain.

Of course, Draco Malfoy would still be ridiculously infuriating and impossibly gorgeous.

As well as a Veela.

Who happens to be Harry’s mate.

6 chapters (60.960 words)

English

Explicit

I loved this one <33

RANDOM JOBS

Phoenix Repairs Services, by carpemermaid

Phoenix Repair Services — We’ll bring it back to life as if it was new! Draco hires a suspiciously private wizarding handyman to fix his kitchen when he returns home to find it destroyed. He expects a middle-aged wizard with greying hair and a pudgy gut to show up. Instead, he gets Harry Potter—with a utility belt and a charming smile—who is more attractive than he has any right to be. 

20.550 words

English

Explicit

What’s my age again?, by lazywonderland

Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

12.249 words

English

Explicit

Harry being a rebel and doing with his life whatever he wants is my kink

Notes on a resurrection, by newleaves

The plan was never to raise Sirius Black from the dead. Draco’s intentions were only ever to free him from the veil, most likely so that he could move on. It’s Harry’s actions as he entered the forest, ten years ago, which have afforded Black the prospect of life and are causing these accidents along the way…

A story about hope, courage and the act of changing state.

Not complete! 10/13 chapters (88.248 words)

English

Mature

I’M SO GLAD I FOUND THIS FIC *^* IT HAS A LOT OF WONDERFUL THINGS: UNSPEAKABLE!DRACO, WOLFSTAR, HARRY AND DRACO BEING IDIOTS IN LOVE...

Touch, by bixgirl1

When Harry is referred to a professional cuddler for the soothing power of touch, he’s dubious — even more so when the Cuddler who shows up turns out to be Malfoy. But in the years since the war, Malfoy’s changed, and over the next several days Harry is confronted by how much he still doesn’t know about this new version of his old enemy — and by how much he wants to learn.

5 chapters (44.791 words)

English

Explicit

Let’s take a chance on happiness, by endless_grey

Harry works with Luna at her magical antique shop, and everything is going pretty well until a mysterious ring makes an appearance. Cue curse-breaker Draco Malfoy and an accidental bond, and suddenly Harry is magically married to his former nemesis. They need to break the bond before Hermione's fundraiser, but Harry doesn't remember "fall in love with the git" being part of the plan.

21.178 words

English

Explicit

Boooonding tiiiiiime <3

A man like him, by darkestbliss

Draco Malfoy has made a name for himself after the War as 'the wizarding world's best interior architectural designer' (his words), taking old, decrepit spaces and transforming them into exquisite homes for those who can afford the hefty price tag. His most recent assignment is number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which has only deteriorated more in condition since the elusive Harry Potter inherited it after Sirius Black's death. When he stumbles upon a collection of questionable items in one of Potter's wardrobes, he finds himself appalled, shocked, distraught, and just a little bit turned on.

23 chapters (60.132 words)

English

Explicit

I’m in love with Dom!Harry, sorry :___

FANFICS I DON’T KNOW HOW THE HELL CLASSIFY

Draco Sodding Malfoy, by  Shewhxmustnxtbenamed

Harry finds Draco outside a pub and takes him back to his place, only to find out that Draco is in an abusive relationship. Harry invites Draco to stay until he can get back on his feet. They go to Draco's ex-boyfriends house, and come back with more than they bargained for.

73 chapters (250.248 words)

English

Explicit

Oh, godness, this fanfic. It was one of the first Drarry fanfics I’ve read and I’m completely in love with it.

He kneels, by Selly87

“What do you want, my gorgeous little prince?” Harry asked softly and Draco stared up at him, eyes wide, lips trembling slightly beneath Harry’s gentle caress.

8.841 words

English

Explicit

This one inspired Little Prince, Kneel and :___

The Day The Weasel Crashed The Party (And Got More Than He Bargained For), by Selly87

It's a perfect evening, the restaurant is exquisite, the champagne is cool and bubbly and Harry is in the company of the only man he wants to spend tonight with...until his best friend, Ronald Weasley, makes a surprise appearance. Things can only go pear-shaped from here on, or can they?

3.348 words

English

Mature

I would kill Ron, I swear... agh :/