#this almost turned incredibly angsty and I really had to reel it back in

[bilberry-jam]

Here's a little comic based off of @teatitty idea of "[Geralt & Dandelion] both looking wet and pathetic after getting caught in a sudden downpour and bickering over whose fault it is"

I like to imagine this is set within the first few years of them travelling together when they're still learning each others boundaries and what not.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

[hartigays]

please take this as a prompt to write as angsty a fic as u want. mwah mwah (💌 — astrid)

(to preface: this is basically just canon divergence nonsense after barry burns rafe’s arm on his bike in s1 👹)

rafe jerks awake with a start.

he’s not sure what roused him from his (not so peaceful) slumber, until he hears the sharp knock again. it’s something hitting one of his bedroom windows - the one closest to his bed.

the room feels like a deep freezer when rafe crawls out from between his sheets. he likes the room to be cold when he sleeps - he has dreams, and dreams make him sweat.

(maybe they can be classified more as nightmares. but no one is asking, so it doesn’t really matter either way.)

rafe enjoys the cold significantly less when he has to walk through it in the middle of the night. it feels good on his arm, at least, where barry burned him. it soothes the sting that he’d been able to ignore while unconscious.

when rafe walks up to the window to investigate, he nearly keels over and dies.

because the source of the noise is none other than barry the fucking coke dealer himself.

speak of the devil, and whatnot.

rafe shoves the window open with a grunt. it opens outward, nearly knocking barry off the roof and onto the ground below. the corner of rafe’s lips twitch - he really would’ve liked to have seen that.

if he knew barry had such bad balance and coordination, rafe probably would’ve shoved the window open a little harder.

“i said i’d get you your money,” rafe says, the first to speak.

barry just rights himself, arching one brow. “i know.”

“so why the fuck are you here?”

barry doesn’t wait for an answer. he simply stares at rafe for a beat, before crawling through the window, elbowing rafe out of the way in the process.

the movement makes rafe’s arm throb, and he clutches at it with a hiss.

not sparing rafe a single glance, barry just circles the room, whistling. far too loud for this time of night.

“sweet setup you got here, country club,” barry tells him. he finally turns to look at rafe head-on, his dark eyes unreadable.

rafe is still clutching his arm, wincing. “thanks. it looks nicer without you in it, so. bye.”

barry laughs, a full-bodied thing that should make rafe want to kill him. it certainly shouldn’t make rafe shudder like a bitch in heat, but it does.

it does.

“ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” barry snorts. then, his gaze zeroes in on rafe’s hand grasping his wounded arm. “get over here and lemme see that.”

“no,” rafe answers, immediately, shaking his head. “no fucking way.”

barry purses his lips. he stares at rafe like he’s staring into his soul, and rafe wants to gouge his eyes out so he’ll stop.

“wasn’t aware i gave you an option, baby boy.”

rafe’s heart does a messy little dance in his chest, and his insides feel like a puddle of goo.

he hates barry, he really does. the fucker gave him a 3rd degree burn not even twelve hours ago. and yet. here rafe stands, eyes and stomach full of hearts and butterflies and all that disgusting shit, all because of something as pathetic as a nickname.

it’s not even an affectionate nickname. it’s condescending, and it should make rafe want to tear someone’s head off. preferably barry’s.

it doesn’t.

rafe moves closer, cautiously. when he’s within reach, barry just reaches out and grabs rafe’s bad arm, yanking him in and closing the distance.

rafe bites his tongue so hard he nearly draws blood, trying to stuff his pained groan right back down his throat. it doesn’t really work, and barry notices, but doesn’t comment on it.

instead, he takes rafe’s arm and examines it, like the burn is something he’s never seen before. like he’s not the one who put it there.

“lemme fix this up for you,” barry mumbles, still staring at rafe’s arm. like maybe the burn will magically sprout legs and run off into the night, never to be seen again.

“why?” rafe asks, swallowing around the lump that has been steadily growing in his throat since barry’s arrival.

barry uses his free hand to grasp rafe’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “because you ain’t in control, rafe cameron. and you need to get that through your pretty little head.”

“that doesn’t answer my question, like, at all,” rafe mutters, then winces when barry’s grip on his arm and chin both tighten.

“because i’m in control,” barry continues, like rafe never even spoke at all, “you got that? you ain’t making the decisions around here no more.”

“wasn’t aware i was making any decisions in the first place,” rafe mutters, glaring down at his arm.

barry lifts rafe’s arm up, releasing his chin to gently trace his fingers over the tender wound. rafe winces again, and barry grins like a shark.

“quit arguin’ and be a good boy like your momma taught ya. and while you’re behaving, go get me some first aid shit.”

rafe feels like he’s frozen in place, the words turning over and over and over in his head. until barry’s nails dig in, and then he’s crying out, stumbling backwards. he’s out of the room a second later, practically tripping over himself as he heads down the hall to the storage closet where he knows ward keeps emergency supplies, disoriented.

by some miracle, the first aid kit is sitting right in the center of the middle shelf. rafe snatches it without a thought, turning to head back to his room before pausing.

barry has never been in control. it’s a pathetic illusion, rafe decides. he won’t gain control either - another thing rafe decides. and barry needs to be made aware of that.

rafe steels himself, trying to keep his chin up as he walks back into his room. he’s not going to let barry play this little game - not in his house, not after that little shitshow of a display this afternoon.

barry has his back turned, looking at some of the paintings hung on rafe’s walls. rafe walks up as quietly as he can, but he knows the moment barry realizes he’s behind him. because barry’s body tenses just so, just enough for rafe to notice.

when barry turns, rafe swings.

barry catches rafe’s fist easily, and okay. maybe barry isn’t as unbalanced or uncoordinated as rafe had thought. in a split second, barry has a hand wrapped around rafe’s throat, squeezing tight enough that rafe wheezes.

walking them back towards rafe’s bed - forcibly, rafe would like to make that clear - barry’s face twists into a furious snarl.

rafe collapses onto the bed with a gasp when barry lets go of his neck, coughing and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.

“try that shit one more time,” barry warns, “and you ain’t gonna like what comes next.”

then, barry leaves rafe sprawled on the bed, massaging his throat, and makes a beeline for the first aid kit. rafe can hear him rummaging through it, grumbling to himself, before returning with a few assorted items.

when barry kneels down in front of him, right on his knees, rafe almost passes out again. he feels like he’s trapped in one of his nightmares, with some added sexual tension to spice things up a bit.

“gimme your arm,” barry orders, and rafe complies.

his throat is still aching, and he’s not particularly interested in barry making that worse, too. it’s already bad enough that barry is probably about to skin him alive - he doesn’t need any more choking involved. unless it’s the sexy kind.

but even then, rafe isn’t particularly interested. not when slaughtering barry in his room feels so incredibly tantalizing right now.

instead of skinning him alive, barry just smooths burn cream over the blistered mark on rafe’s arm. the way barry rubs it in is almost soothing; a smooth circling of his fingers, his touch almost featherlight.

when the burn cream sets, barry grabs some gauze from the pile next to him. he’s about to plaster it onto rafe’s arm when he pauses, staring at the burn like he’s been hypnotized.

“you sure are pretty when you all marked up,” barry says, breathless, like just the thought of marking rafe leaves him reeling.

rafe wishes, fleetingly, that barry would be interested in marking him in ways that wouldn’t leave him in agonizing pain afterward.

but wishes never really do come true, do they?

barry finally places the gauze on rafe’s arm, carefully, then wraps it up in a sticky bandage. he looks up at rafe when he’s finished, finally not staring at the burn like it’s something fucking holy.

“you’re not in control,” rafe tells him, his voice trembling. “you’re not. just because you did this doesn’t- ”

“you damn right i did this,” barry hisses, lurching upright so he can tower over rafe.

it’s the only time he can, really, what with rafe being a walking skyscraper and all.

“i gave the pain, i took it away,” barry continues. “ain’t that control, princess?”

“no,” rafe argues, shaking his head furiously. “no.”

“what would you call it then, if you so damn smart?”

rafe glares up at him, gritting his teeth. “i don’t fucking know, sadism? narcissism?”

barry snorts, then leans down and plants both hands on either side of rafe’s head, boxing him in. “then we one in the same, rafe cameron.”

this is the part where they should angrily kiss, rafe thinks. but barry doesn’t kiss him. he just straddles rafe’s hips, pinning him down before closing the distance and sinking his teeth into rafe’s bottom lip.

rafe arches up into it, trying to tangle his fingers in barry’s hair, but barry just swats his hands away. when he pulls back, he runs his thumb over the teeth indents now decorating rafe’s bottom lip.

“i hate you,” rafe pants, staring up at barry, his pupils blown wide. “i’m gonna kill you, barry. i’ll slit your throat while you’re asleep in your shit trailer and you can die in your own filth. and i’ll like it.”

barry moves in again, biting down on rafe’s jugular. this time, he draws blood. it’s staining his teeth when he pulls back.

“not if i kill you first,” barry says, softly, like it’s a sweet promise and not a harsh threat. “in my shit trailer, where you’ll be sleeping, because you gonna come running back, rafe cameron. and you can die in my filth, all marked up by me, so everyone will know who you belonged to when they put yo’ stupid ass in the ground. six feet deep.”

rafe wants to argue, but that’s part of the problem. he wants too much with barry. and he knows he’s right. rafe will come running back, someday, some way, somehow. he will.

when barry climbs off of him, rafe feels like he’s lost a limb. he keeps losing things to barry. and this whole thing between them, it’s a death sentence. at least for one of them.

rafe shouldn’t feel emptied out, hollow and lifeless, when barry pushes open the window he’d come through and crawls back onto the roof.

barry turns back, just for a moment, to flash scarlet-stained teeth at rafe before speaking.

“see you soon, country club.”

[thesleepiesthufflepuff]

My Favorite Fics 2020

Alrighty. I read a decent amount of fanfiction this year (mostly thanks to Wizards Hearts/Game of Drarry), and I’m here to list out some of my very favorites. Thank you to all of the creators out there who put so much time, effort, and energy into creating beautiful stories, and here’s to lots of reading in the new year 💜 also, this is in no particular order and all rec notes are from my personal fic tracker spreadsheet (if anyone wants details on how I set up my spreadsheet, etc. please feel free to send an ask!) 💕

1) Change on the Horizon by Static_abyss / @static-abyss [Explicit, 118.6k,]

When things settle down after the war, Harry has trouble figuring out who he’s supposed to be and what’s expected of him. At the same time, Draco finds himself having to decide between what his parents want and what he wants for himself. Together, Harry and Draco embark on a journey to figure out who they are as individuals and what that means for their future together.

A canon AU drarry fic based on the relationship between Mickey and Ian from Shameless.

Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read. Ana did the most amazing job at translating Micky and Ian's relationship to Harry and Draco, although it’s definitely not necessary to know Shameless in order to enjoy the story. The writing is stunning, and I loved every single bit of this

2) I’ll Play Your Game by JayseHasNoGrace [Mature, 52.2k]

After quitting the Auror department at the ripe old age of twenty two, Harry Potter finds a nice, uneventful job in an apothecary. At least, it's uneventful until his old rival Draco Malfoy comes into the shop.

They strike up an unlikely friendship, which evolves into an increasingly convoluted scheme, which then snowballs spectacularly out of control into a tangle of lies and blurred lines.

They'd agreed to a fake relationship — in Harry's case, to get the wizarding world to take him off his 'perfect saviour' pedestal, and in Draco's case, just to be given a chance in wizarding society at all — but neither of them expected just how difficult that might really turn out to be. Especially when the stakes grow ever higher, and they both start falling for each other. Just a little bit.

FAKE DATING!!! Ugh, this was so good. I love the media aspect of it, and the way that everything comes together is just brilliant. A must-read for anyone who loves fake dating!!

3) I Can be Your Lighthouse by orpheous87 / @orpheous87 [Teen, 4k]

When Harry gets called to investigate reports of Dark magic, the last thing he expects to find is an almost unconscious Draco Malfoy. After multiple instances, he resolves to find out what's going on.

inspired by the song The Lighthouse by The Used.

So, so sweet. I love Harry's determination to figure out what's going on. This is such a lovely fic, and I enjoyed every minute of it

4) Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid / @quicksilvermaid [Explicit, 169.5k]

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.

This left such an impact on me, and it’s a fic I think about often. I can't even begin to explain how incredible everything about this is.

5) Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix) [Teen, 20.4k]

// This can’t possibly go worse than the last time I kept a diary. //

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Absolutely amazing. The relationship that develops between Harry and Draco as they write to each other was so soft and wonderful, and I would easily read 100k of this!

6) Grounds for Divorce by Tepre [Explicit, 122.2k]

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

I loved this. It was so angsty at times, but well worth it. An absolute classic that I’m so pleased to be able to say I’ve read.

7) Nero Su Bianco by Zuzallove [Explicit, 40.5k]

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job.

Until the day of his trial.

The letters were so much fun to read, even though they were heartbreaking at times. I loved Draco’s characterization in this, as well as how his relationship develops with Harry.

8) Thunder by Keyflight790 [Explicit, 21.5k]

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder

I really loved how well Draco's addiction was written. I'm not a huge fan of past relationships, but this was done in such a beautiful way. Plus, talking to dragons!!!

9) dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl [Explicit, 39.4k]

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Amazing. This has absolutely sucked me into the world of fake dating. I could ramble about this forever, to be honest. Simply incredible, and I love how snarky their relationship was. It was the epitome of a good Drarry fic.

10) just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines [Explicit, 23k]

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

YES!! I genuinely loved Harry’s clinginess. This fic was absolutely amazing, and the secret dating was lovely. Plus, bi awakening!!

11) When Hippogriffs and Pygmy Puffs Collide by oldenuf2nb [Mature, 32.7k]

Harry Potter bakes cakes, brilliantly. Draco Malfoy inks tattoos, brilliantly. Owls deliver post, including messages from clients, with an occasional lack of brilliance.

I was really surprised at how much I loved this, especially since I’ve not really read many fics with odd jobs. I absolutely adored the fact that Harry was a baker and Draco was a tattoo artist, and the characterizations were absolute perfection

12) You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound [Explicit, 37k]

As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

I absolutely adored this, and I thought the de-aging aspect was done is such a tasteful way. Such a good read.

13) Highly (in)Compatible by daisymondays [Teen, 36.8k]

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?

I LOVED THIS! Oh man, that ending!  Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant

14) Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) by ICMezzo [Mature, 37.8k]

The Room of Requirement was severely damaged in the war, but not so much that it could not provide for one lost student and another young hero—especially when they needed each other most of all.

An amazing, beautiful, tender fic! The ROR has given them the gift of each other, and I honestly love that it's just the two of them and no other characters. An incredible and soft read

15) December Never Felt So Wrong by MaesterChill / @maesterchill [Explicit, 50k]

'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side.

All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there.

Truly brilliant, and I was laughing from the start. The combination of the aging up, Harry’s off-tune singing to Muggle songs, and soft parenthood were all things I immediately fell in love with. Will be reading again and again

16) Catch Me If I Fall by keeli_marie [Explicit, 38.2k]

When Draco Malfoy collides with Harry Potter one morning while dropping the kids off at school, things don’t go quite the way either of them would have expected.

Another absolute gem, and I'm still reeling from how amazing it was. I'm always a bit hesitant with kid fics, but this is one of the best depictions of love between Harry and Draco that I've read. I love how supportive Astoria is. Such a lovely fic  

16) Love Found by Peachpety / @peachpety [Explicit, 7.5k]

During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love.

SUCH a good rewrite of the astronomy tower scene. I can’t describe how much I love the pre-existing relationship, which is a trope I typically steer clear from. And the snark!!! Such a good fucking fic

17) Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by Veelawings / @veelawings [Mature, 1k]

Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out.

Okay, I loved this. The play format was so cool and fit the narration so well. Absolute perfection and SO. GOOD.

18) The Dragon At The Bottom Of The Garden by Zopno [Explicit, 52.3k]

At 25 Harry Potter's life was simple; he flew, sculpted, and had the vault in the back of his mind to keep all unpleasant business. It was stable, but when Draco Malfoy literally hit him with a giant rock; all that changed.

I loved the storyline, especially Animagus bird Harry!! This was such a unique take on an Animagus and post-war fic, and I loved reading it so much   

19) Exposure by GallaPlacidia [Mature, 26.9k]

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy's camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco's confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise...

Self prompt: Draco is a camboy. Harry betrays him.

I can't give this enough praise. The hurt of it all was so brilliant. A new favorite for sure

20) you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass [Mature, 20.7k]

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Fuck. Like...fuck. This was so sad and angsty and perfect in all the right ways. Watching everything unfold was so painful but so worth it. Another new favorite

21) A Room Up There (And You In It) by thestarryknight [Teen, 59.2k]

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.

Absolutely fucking fantastic. This fic reads intimacy all over, despite there being no sex. I love preservationist Draco and the way in which information about Harry unfolds. I can’t say enough how much I loved this advent fic, and Starry did such a great job

And now for three fics that I have yet to read/need to emotionally prepare myself for:

1) Modern Love by Tackytiger / @tackytigerfic [Explicit, 61.2k]

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

2) Dragons Don't Know Paradise by  tainara_black / @teacup-tai [Explicit, 50.9k]

In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

This is a story about falling in love online and about facing the reality of death, but above all, this is a story about hope, finding love and acceptance. (Non-magical / bookshop AU, written for the 25 days of Drarry 2020)

3) Aeternus Solem by onbeinganangel / @onbeinganangel [Explicit, 36.9k]

On December 1st, Harry Potter gets sent halfway across the world to attempt to break a possibly fatal curse on an unnamed British Unspeakable — except said Unspeakable is not unnamed at all and Harry has been in love with him for over four years.

{If anyone spots any mistakes in this list, PLEASE let me know! I hope you all have a lovely New Year’s, and may 2021 be less of a dumpster on fire than its predecessor 💜}

[jpegjade]

Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmares)

SO remember how i told you guys that the next fic was gonna be angsty fluff? well i present to you the angstiest thing i have yet to write. (i had to reel myself back. i definitely went angstier but i decided not to go there this early in the game) - and yes, the title is a kid cudi song. 

Request: Okay another request… and I know you love to write angst so how about something where the reader is having a hard time sleeping bc of nightmares and has been trying her best to keep it from Spence but he obviously knows and tries to help?

__________________

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one Spencer Reid. A brilliant young man whose life was cut short by the grips of life.” Some priest said, standing at the front of a podium. 

You were outside, standing under a tent with a group of people. You tried to look at their faces but it was like everything was in a haze. The priest continued talking but it’s like his voice slowed down, almost as if he went underwater somehow. You looked down, seeing yourself in your funeral dress. Was this real? 

“And now a few words from his fiance.” The priest motioned to you. 

It’s like your body started moving on its own. You walked to the front of the tent, in front of everyone. Slowly, their faces came into view. One by one, you recognized who you were looking at and all of them were crying. Even his mom was there, crying just as hard as everyone else. There wasn’t a dry eye in the tent area. 

“My heart is broken... “ You began, not sure where the words were coming from. Even now, you weren’t sure what was really happening but you started to piece things together. “The love of my life…” You started sobbing, the words getting caught in your throat.

“The love of my life is gone, taken by a cruel excuse for a man. If I could trade my life for his, I would in a heartbeat. His bright eyes, loving smile, he deserves the world and every good thing in it. And now… Now, I can’t give it to him…” 

You turned, looking at the coffin. He looked so peaceful, like no bad thing could touch him anymore. And that was true. He was relieved of his pain and suffering. Pressing your lips to his forehead one last time, you whispered, “I love you now and forever.” 

You woke with a start. You were drenched in sweat and sobbing, although it didn’t feel like it. Your tears were mixed with sweat. You wrapped your arms around your torso, rocking yourself as you tried to calm down. Your heart raced and there was a painful ache in your body. Something was missing, an empty hole inside of you. You tried to breathe but it felt absolutely impossible. Your chest was so tight with fear that you didn’t think you would ever calm down. 

Slowly, you began to breathe normally again. The room stopped spinning and you were able to loosen up enough to go get a glass of water. Your footsteps were quiet but your body felt so heavy. You struggled to stand up straight at the weight on your shoulders. Filling up your cup with water, you checked the time on the stove. It was only 11 PM. You must have fallen asleep early for you to wake up at this time. A few swallows later, you were ready to get back in bed. 

What the fuck was that dream… Shit Spencer. If that wasn’t a dream, if that was a memory, you were going to lose it. 

It was only 11 so you knew Spencer would still be awake, if not wrapping up at the office. When you used to sleep over at his apartment, he would stay up late because he had a cup of coffee late in the day and the effects were still hitting him. The two of you would stay up talking until one of you dropped. Sometimes, the conversations were good, all about how he was basically a superhero and you were a goddess, according to him. 

‘Hey, angel.” You melted at the sound of his voice. He was okay. 

“Hey yourself. How was work?” You asked, trying to keep things nonchalant. You just needed to hear him talk for a little bit and then you would feel better about everything going on. 

“It was tiring. I’ve been doing desk work since I hurt my leg.” He said, pretending to be annoyed. Or maybe he was annoyed, you couldn’t tell. 

You completely forgot he hurt his leg for a moment. All you could think about was that dream… 

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, disrupting your thoughts. You were glad but you were unsure about this. What if you had another nightmare? 

“I don’t know about that, Spence. I’m a little too tired to drive.” That was the only excuse you would think of to not go. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to spend the night with you but I’m scared of falling asleep at the wheel.” 

“I like that you’re cautious. Well, I’m on my way home. Do you want me to swing by?” Spencer said, looking for a reason to stop by. 

“Only if you feel up to it.” You said, excited to have someone to help you stay awake. It would be easier to stay awake with your fiance there, right? 

20 minutes later, Spencer walked through your door. Immediately embracing you in a hug, he smelled of lavender and coffee. You weren’t sure how that worked but it did on him. 

“You’re always so cozy.” You said, face full of his sweater. It was beginning to be a long hug but you needed it. 

“Are you ready to actually let me inside?” Spence said, chuckling at the realization that it was becoming an extra long hug. 

“Inside of me or the apartment?” You laughed, finally letting go of him. 

“Your pick.” He said, smirking. 

“Get in here, you goofball.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside your apartment. 

The two of you laid on the couch, watching Doctor Who for a little while before you started to drift off to sleep. Your head in Spencer’s lap, legs up on the couch, Spencer just watched you drift to sleep, smiling at how rested you looked. 

“Spencer. Spencer, it’s me. You don’t have to do this. Please, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You pleaded, your fiance’s back turned to you. 

“I can’t, y/n.” Spencer was crying, hard. “There’s so much darkness inside of me and I can’t navigate it. I can’t understand how to get rid of it. Some genius I am, right?” 

“Baby, no.” You took a couple tentative steps closer to him. You didn’t want him to get scared. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You say all these nice things about me and I can’t… I don’t understand.” He was still crying. That was a good sign. He still felt something. He wasn’t numb. 

“Spencer, listen to my voice. You’re not all dark, okay? That brilliant mind of yours isn’t going to figure it out if you give up now. Let me help you understand.” Your voice was hardly steady but it was just enough to keep him engaged. 

You kept inching towards him. Your hands were shaking still. You were almost there. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Spencer!” You yelled, bolting upright. 

You fell asleep. Shit. But Spencer wasn’t holding you anymore. You didn’t see him. You also weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in your bed, shaking. 

“Hmm? I’m right here.” Spencer said, turning over. He pulled you into his arms and held you as you explained your dreams and how they were backward.

“Spence, I’m afraid to go to sleep. I can’t handle you being taken away from me.” You sobbed, trying to slow down. 

“Hey, you’re not going to lose me at all. We’ve got plans and things to accomplish. I wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled. 

Hearing Spencer make light of the situation helped a little bit. You knew it was his way of helping you through the situation before he turned serious again. 

“Y/n, dreams are less about the future and more about the subconscious. Your fears manifest in two second bits of information but your brain slows it down to read the information. What you’re suffering from is common under high pressure or stressful situations. I know you’ve been suffering from nightmares for a little while. You don’t ever want to tell me these things but I find out eventually.” He said, pulling you tighter to his chest. 

You could hear his heart, slow and steady. The blood pumping in your ears started to get quieter the more he spoke. 

“You’ve been sleepless for at least a week. You’ve been wearing more make-up to cover up the dark circles and exhaustion. You have had an excuse not to sleep over at my place for a little while. Your clothes are always wrinkled and you have been more forgetful lately because you’re so tired. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give you space to figure it out since I know you’ll call me when you feel like I can help.” He paused. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know. But it’s so hard… I thought I had this under control.” You sighed, wrapping your arm around Spencer. 

“Baby, you have to ask for help sometimes. You have to know that some things aren’t going to happen because there’s no way in hell I would leave you. The only thing I’m sorry for right now is that I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think it would get this bad…” Spencer got progressively quieter the more he talked. 

“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I feel like you have enough to worry about. I want to be the sunshine in your life, the thing you look forward to seeing because I bring you joy.” You sighed. 

“I know. But you don’t have to do anything to give me that feeling, sunshine.” He said, smiling. “I come home to the most beautiful, smart, incredible girl in the world every day, when I’m not on trips, that is.” He chuckled. 

“Spence… You’re too sweet.” You said, burying your face into his chest. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless until you lifted your head and put it back down on his chest. 

“Sweet like sugar.” He said. He smirked in the low light of the lamp on your bedside table. 

“Spencer, that light was in my living room. Did you move it?” You asked, wondering why he would do something like that. 

“When I have nightmares, I find that it’s easier to get my bearings when I can see what’s around me. In the dark, anything can happen. In the dark, the monsters come out. But in the light, you’re able to see that you’re safe. So I moved it so you can wake up and recognize you’re safe with me.” Spencer said. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said, getting sleepy again. 

“And you’re mine.” He said, followed by a yawn. 

There was something different about when you fell asleep this time. You had more control, felt more peaceful and less nervous. You were able to breathe again knowing that Spencer was right there with you. For the first time in a little while, you were able to get a peaceful couple hours of sleep.

[minijenn]

“Please hear me out.” - Sora, Roxas, and Xion.

59. “Please hear me out.”

A startled gasp escapes Roxas and Xion as they watch Sora collapse out of the dark corridor they all just came through. The portal itself unceremoniously disappears as the one who summoned it falls to the ground in obvious pain. They’re both down on his level in an instant, checking his suddenly paled face, noticing his heavy, uneven breathing, spotting the darkness continue to bloom over his hands as his fingers seem to sharpen almost, though they could just be seeing things. 

Xion casts a quick healing spell, but it does nothing. It’s only as Roxas is worriedly watching Sora try and fail to so much as stand on his own that he realizes what’s wrong here. While he and Xion have the benefit of the black coats they came back in, Sora has no such protection against the dangerous darkness within the shadowy portals he now has access to. And without that protection, that darkness can just as well flow into his body freely whenever he goes through them. Roxas doesn’t even need to think twice about whether or not that’s what Xehanort is intending to happen. 

“No more dark corridors,” Roxas orders his other as Xion helps him stand. 

“W-what?” Sora asks, breathless and confused. 

“We’re not using dark corridors to get around anymore,” Roxas reiterates sternly. “Not if going through them does this to you.”

“N-no, Roxas, it’s ok, I’m fine,” Sora says even though he absolutely is not fine. His chest aches, his stomach is doing flips, his head is pounding and the suddenness of how all these awful sensations hit him at once still has him reeling. 

“No, you’re not!” Roxas shouts, still every bit as on edge as he’d been from the moment Sora brought him back. “You’re not fine! Nothing about this is fine! Why don’t you get that already?!”

“Roxas…” Xion admonishes gently. Even though her expression is clearly telling that she agrees with him. Still, she hardly thinks such harshness is the way to go with Sora, not in the state that he’s in now. “Sora,” she begins much more carefully, hoping to ease him down from the shock Roxas’ scolding had left him in. “We’re just… worried about you. I know you might not want to hear this, but… w-what’s happening to you-” She decides to be simple about it, tactful, knowing that this is a sore subject for all three of them. “It looks like it’s getting worse.”

And indeed it does. Just that short trip through the dark corridor alone has whitened more of his hair, plunged even more haunting gold into his once-blue eyes. And that’s not even mentioning his fingers strangely sharpening to almost, almost look like claws. 

Still, he denies it, even now that it's far past the point of being undeniable. “N-no, it’s ok,” he assures with a fake smile that he’s just about perfected by this point. “I-I can still fight it, I know I can!”

“But for how much longer?” Roxas presses, prepared to be much more brutally honest than Xion was. “Now that we’re out, we can’t protect your heart anymore like we were doing before. How long do you really think you’ll be able to hold out against the Organization on your own?”

“However long I need to,” Sora retorts but the conviction in his tone is noticeably wavering. 

Roxas and Xion exchange a fretful glance, both of them fearing the exact same thing: that Sora’s time, however short it might have been, is very quickly starting to run out. “Sora… hear us out, please,” Xion begins, acting on what they’re both largely thinking. “We understand just how… much you don’t want to go back, but if they others can help you, then maybe we should-”

“I’m not going back,” he cuts her off, finally steady enough to stand on his own as he sharply turns away. “I can’t. I don’t want any of them to see me like this…”

“Sora, you know none of them will care about what you look like-”

“I don’t care about what I look like either!” he cuts Roxas off, his expression rife with grief and fear as he turns to face them again. “What I care about is that I’m turning into one of their worst enemies! A piece of Xehanort’s heart is inside of mine and now they all know that too. Do you really think any of them would want me back now that I’m not even one of them anymore?!”

“Sora…” Xion attempts to get through to him, but he refuses to hear it. In his dread for what he knows is about to become of him, he’s inconsolable. 

“I can’t be a guardian of light anymore…” he admits to himself, softly, sadly. Almost as if he’s resigning his old life and everything he had once been in it to oblivion, which at this point, is really the only option he has left. “Not when I’m so close to becoming a seeker of darkness instead…”

(Hhhhhhh the short span of time that these three idiots are going to be traveling together for in Keys is going to be Real Angsty Sibling Hours tbh. Most hours will consist of Roxas and Xion being incredibly worried about Sora because well, the boy is a fucking trainwreck that we’re all twistedly complicit in watching crash and burn (shrugs))

[likesomekindofcheese]

Will You Accept This Rose? Chapter Two (Queen/Beatles Bachelorette AU!)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: some drinking and cursing, but pretty light I think

Episode Two! A first Impression Rose is chosen! And so is the first one on one and group date, but the course of true love never did run smooth. And the drama is just beginning!

A/N: So who should stay? Who should leave? What should the next date be? How can drama be stirred in this pot? Suggest to me in the comments! After all, you ARE our Bachelorette! Any angsty drama ideas you would like to see as well? Also note, since I updated this fic things have...happened. Should I just replace Chris with someone else? What do you think? Would anyone be upset if I kept Chris Harrison as the host?

Also, shout out to actual legend and date idea goddess @freddiesaysalright​

“I have met quite a few gentlemen today, so this decision is hard. You are all so wonderful…” you pick up the rose, turning it coyly. The other men stand straight, but you can hear the palpitations of their hearts as your own pulse races in tandem. “Deaky…” you turn to him “you're so sweet, and showing me your family and your determination to move on shows so much strength…” Your eyes settle on Ringo for a moment. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Jim huffed “just announce it already!” Miko sat on his lap and began to knead his pants, tiny claws digging into his skin. Not that he minded. Not on Bachelorette night.

“I loved dancing with you, it made me so happy…” Roger’s golden head then flashes off of your eye. “Roger, that was an incredible entrance-I’m still reeling from it! But if I have to choose…I have to go with my gut on this one…” You turn to Brian. He blinks rapidly and looks around, realizing that it’s him. “Brian, will you accept this rose?” Smiling beautifully, he nods, letting out a breathy “yes!” before hugging you with his long, lean body. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Freddie let out a humph before he looked down at his empty popcorn bowl “Hmmm, that was a tough one! I thought she’d never choose! Good for Brian, though!” “I had a feeling it would be him,” Jim shrugged. “That’s what I read on Reality Steve…” “Why didn’t you say anything!” “You hate spoilers!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The men dismiss each other, many of them giving you a hug or a slight kiss on the side of your head goodnight. Martha even waddles up to you. “Martha, shake!” Paul ordered. She extends her paw and you accept it, not caring for a bit of grime on your manicured hands. “Sleep well, Paul…” “I definitely will!” he added with a cute wink. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As a week passed, Garden Lodge hummed into normalcy. There was a bit of talk about the episode. By Monday evening, people were done with normalcy. With vegetables and bread. They wanted champagne and cake. They wanted indulgence. They wanted a romance that would sweep their emotions to highs and lows without having to think of their own lives. And so, getting out their ice cream, Jim turned on the television. “Ah, another Tuesday. I love waiting, gives ya something to look forward too-none of the binging!” “Darling, we could binge all the other seasons this summer-shouldn’t we!” “Let’s catch up with the new one, first!” Jim says, popping out the champagne. “Cheers!” he said, he clinked his ice cream bowl with Fred’s.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That next morning, the men sat semi-sleepily around the room. Many blinking their eyes with sleep. John was sipping his coffee, scribbling away in a journal. Brian looked half-dead, his curls in a messy mane but the proud half-smile hidden beneath his hair was undeniable. Paul rubbed the sand out of his eyes and straightened his back as he sat. The others sighed in deeply, tapping their feet or rubbing their hands. Many of them were dressed in the first jeans and shirt they could throw on. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Darling, you’re on television, at least take the time to look decent!” -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Finally, there came a ring on the doorbell, which caused them to jump. “I’ll get it,” Paul volunteered. He returned with two cream envelopes, much to the mixed anxiety and excitement of the other men. “What is it?” Roger asked. “Read it! Now!” Paul carefully undid the label and pulled out the first card. “Roger, Deaky, Ringo, John, Paul, Brian…” He flipped it over. “In order to find love, you have to search for it. Love, Y/N.” The others sighed deeply. A few eyes turned to George. His smile grew devilish knowing what that meant. The other card was opened and Paul read out loud: “George…” He let out a sharp exhale that was half a laugh. “It’s showtime, Love Y/N.” The others looked around in curiosity. “It’s showtime, what on earth could that mean?” Ringo asked, crossing his arms. “It means there will be time, and a show!” the recipient said with a cheeky wiggle of his eyebrows. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- George walked up to the location, thrilled for having the first one on one date. His driver took him to a movie theater, large and almost retro seeming with neon colors in the lights. But there you were, in a nice shirt and jeans and a jacket. “Hello George!” you greeted arms coyly behind your back. “Hey Y/N!” He walked over and hugged you, squeezing you tight. He was soft and warm, it felt like you were hugging a Scouse talking teddy bear. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “They at least have a bit of chemistry!” Jim commented, finishing the last of his ice cream. Noticing that it was now pure cream with nothing else that would sicken them, he let it on the floor for Delilah to lick up. --------------------------------------------------------------------- “So are we seeing a movie today?” he asked, looking up. “Yup! But not just any move-this one was moving seats!” “What! Then what are we waiting for!?” he asked with a laugh. Gathering as many snacks as he could, both of you settled into your seats. A smiling attendant buckled you both in. George happily shared his large box of popcorn with you. “Aren’t you scared of being sick?” you teased. “It’s movie popcorn, Y/N. That’s the special kind! It’ll be worth it! Oh and these-chocolate crunch!” “Chocolate crunch, that's the best kind of movie candy!” “You think so? What about these lads?” He pulled out a bag of M and M’s. “Pure delicacies, these uns-you’ll ‘ave to stop me from eating it all during the trailers!” he said. As the movie began, the seats whirred up to life. As the movie began, it seemed calm. Like a regular movie. You heard George crunching on his popcorn. He looked over at you and shared his gladly. Your hands were slippery with the butter. There were a couple of scenes where the chairs moved some and you both laughed at that. Then it calmed down, consisting of people talking quietly. “Ey, Y/N-you have the bucket?” “Yes, I do!” “Toss it!” “What?” “Toss the popcorn into me mouth!!” ------------------------------------------------------- “Oh, are we in school darling? You’re not a seal!” --------------------------------------------------- Giggling, you took a kernel. It smacked George in the nose, his jaw clamped to get it. “Let’s try again!” This time, it landed completely in his mouth. You both cheered ad clapped loudly, ignoring the bland dialogue waiting for another car chase. But as the chase began, your seats went into action, lifting up as a character jumped, turning right and left quickly, and circling around. You even applauded at the movement. By the time the credits rolled, you both were out of breath and laughing. George walked out, surprised that his eyes did not have to adjust to the brightness of day as it became evening. Both of you walked outside for a bit before returning back home to the mansion, letting hours pass and your own jeans traded for a form-fitting green dress. George waited for you at the bottom of the stairs in a nice suit. “They’ve got dinner for us-got some room?” you asked. “For dinner? Always!” ------------------------------------------ “Does he never gain a pound? Popcorn fills your stomach full!” Jim shook his head before he poured some whiskey to warm up after the ice cream. -------------------------------------------------------- Both of you got into the limo, making your way out to a nice restaurant. It had tall, pale walls with long, creamy curtains hanging down. Italian food was served with wine so clear it looked like water until you smelled it and had a sip. “Okay George, what moves do you like?” He began to cut up his meatball. “I enjoyed Citizen Kane-“ “Really!” “Yes! Not too boring isn’t it? Like saying Mozart’s your favorite composer or whatever!” he questioned his hands in front of him. “No! What else?” you asked, delicately wiping your lips with your napkin before returning it to your lap. “I love Monty Python’s stuff. Oh god, The Holy Grail, Life of Brian? Masterpieces! Was on the floor the first time I saw em! What about you?” he gushed, his dark eyes large with excitement. You discuss movies, what you saw, what made you laugh, and what made you cry and feel things for a good hour. Who knew how much would be broadcasted? But you didn’t care. You knew how it worked. The drama would arrive. But for now, you wanted to have fun. “What about growing up? Did they…did they mean anything to you? Seeing movies and shows and stuff? I was addicted as a kid…” you started. “They meant a lot. I mean, I love the food, of course, but…things were sometimes tough at home. Only one coal for a cold winter’s day. Things were hard, but me parents loved me, and me siblings. Movies were a place to forget all of that. That and music. Movies made me escape, music made me feel, made me laugh or cry or get it out. Anything to forget about school or things for a bit.” Nodding your head, you told him about your own childhood. He nodded and listened attentively. “Well, George…you’ve told me so much already so…” There was a tall rosebud placed on the platter. It sat there for at least a good hour. George at first was eyeing it nervously, but his eyes stayed on you the darker it got outside and the more you talked. Reaching over, you saw him grin genuinely, not hiding any bit of happiness. “George, will you accept this rose?” you asked, pointing the bloom in his direction. “I will, can I hug you?” “Yes!” He reached over and hugged you. “Can I…can I kiss your cheek?” “…yes…” It was soft and though you smelled a bit of garlic from his breath, it was a sweet peck. He felt soft and you felt his lips curve into a smile. ---------------------------------------------------------------- “I should have known, they always kiss too soon!” Jim laughed. “But it’s love, darling! What if it’s love-then you have to kiss!” “I didn’t know it was love when I met you, what was the first thing I told you!” “Oh yes, that word that begins with f and rhymes with duck!” he joked with a laugh, kissing Jim’s cheek. ------------------------------------------------------------------ “I have one question though…” “Yes?” WAsn’t it soon for marriage? No way he would propose already! You held your breath. “When’s dessert?!?” he asked. Grinning, you then asked for a plate of tiramisu to share.

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

As the gentlemen all get together, they are brought to a garden. It’s scenic and beautiful. Only George is left at home. Though as you walk with them, they surround you, trying to find small excuses to the talk-the wind, the sun, breakfast, the news. Chris Harrison walks out. You arrive in a summery shirt and shorts-comfortable, but cute. Smiling at them. “Hey y/n!!!” they all chirrup, but Chris walks forward, rubbing his hands together. “Good afternoon gentlemen! Are you ready for your first group date! We are here because not only is this a garden this…” he waves dramatically “is a labyrinth! And you must find your way out! The three who manage to get their way out will have extra time with our Bachelorette!” Gliding forward like a bird, you went to Chris’s side. The men eyed the labyrinth and then you with nervous excitement. “Aaaaaand….go!!!” you announce, waving your hands. They run in, and walking with Chris, you go to the side near a lovely Venus statue surrounded by Hydrangeas. There are several tv screens monitoring the inside of the maze. The men run about like squirrels ina park, desperately hunting for something. “Ahhh! Where is it? Should we turn left?” Roger asked Brian. “We just turned left!” “They all look the same!” he said with an added falsetto yelp that made birds flee from trees. “Well, this is entertaining!” Fred commented. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- At your desk, you are holding your cool trying not to die laughing from them, but you can’t help yourself. The camera set around shows that the team with John, Brian, and Ringo are well on their way to your spot while the other three are still struggling, all spatting over what’s the right way. Making your way to one spot, you stand in a corner, prepped and ready. Paul arrives at the little green area to find you. “Hells!” you say coyly. “Hello Y/N! Y/N!” they all shout. Paul takes your hand, squeezing it. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair is messy from the wind. “Am I doin’ alright?” he asks. You nod your head and he lets out a cheer. “You will soon see a little meadow in the center with boxes, choose the right one and you will attend the cocktail party with me.” You instruct. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Just his luck!” Jim complains, taking away the bowl. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Energy renewed, he hurries forward. But as the cameras zoom in, they find that though they reached the clearing, the other group just entered through. “What! What’re you lot doing here?” Roger asks angrily. “What’re you doing here!?” Paul asks incredulously. John only shrugs, “Just found a shortcut, is all.” Deaky walks forward, inspecting the boxes. But he finds various office supplies. Computer mice, staplers, tape, sticky notes, and pens. “Lads, listen to this…” Paul warns, pointing to a sign with a riddle written on it. He reads it out loud: With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?” For a while, all is quiet, they are not sure what to do. Suddenly Ringo, Brian, John, and Deaky lift up their heads. They yell at once: “The stapler!” At once they ran up, slamming the button. A door swung open, revealing you on the other side laughing and clapping as Ringo, John, and Deaky make their way through. Brian slows down before his stride. He smiles sadly, knowing that rosebud is in his room but that tonight won’t have another extra minute of you. Hugging the boys and high-fiving them, Chris merely folds his hands with his calm, slightly mischievous smile. “Congrats!!! You got it!!!! So this group will go to a special cocktail party…and the rose ceremony…” Chris announced. They cheer and hug you, though the other party huffs, looking on in envy.

The evening falls. There is a slight quiet except for the sounds of a few birds in the distance. In a nice, sparkly dress, you greet the men: John, Ringo, and Deaky, hugging them tightly. “So John, you’re from Liverpool…” you asked. “Yes, I and all the lads are-“ “Oh! And you met each other doing- doing music, right?” “Yes, we did! I needed music it was, well, Ringo can agree it was in our blood, it was.” He nodded, getting his first glass of chardonnay. “Can I steal you, so we can talk some more?” “Of course!” Walking around in the garden, roses bloomed. Their fragrance barely tickled your nose. “Y/N, thanks for this…look at these? Aren’t they lovely!?” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Must be rigged! If you see flowers or fireworks, it’s rigged for you!” Jim says, shaking his head. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “They’re very lovely! So…were you always writing songs? Playing guitar?” “In secret, me uncle taught me…but he died. And me mum encouraged that and…well, she died too.” “Oh John…” “It’s alright,” “ut still!” “Yeah…but still���I want to think I’m strong. That I’m better….” “Grief always hurts, though…” “Well I had me music, I always have it…and me drawings!” He pulled out a notepad. “Oh, let me see them! Please!” you insist. Time passes as you see his personal drawings before Ringo steps up and steals you away. John sits there, staring sadly but with a bit of intensity. He sighs and closes his notepad, returning it to his pocket. “How are you, me dear!” he asks in his deep voice, he pulls your hand to his large, soft lips and kisses your knuckles. “I’m…I’m very good!” you answer, flustered already by the affection. “Ere, let’s sit!” he offers, seeing the blue seats right by the fire pit. “Good! So are you tired?” you ask. You swirl around your wine glass to inspect the inside for a bit. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “For a cocktail party, they only drink wine, darling!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Woo! All that runnin’! I would run around on stage to keep up me energy! I still have a bit in me toes-see!” He wiggled his toes and his shoes moved with them. “I have some in mine too!” You wiggled yours in tandem. Both of you giggling like idiots. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Bloody hell!” Jim cursed, groaning as he leaned back on the couch. “I can’t believe she actually likes that! What is that boy-five?! That’s not the way to woo someone!” Freddie insisted, hands flailing in front of the tv screen. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ As you finished chatting, you saw Deaky was only sipping his drink quietly. As he breathed in deep, he approached you. “So Y/N, what kind of music do you like?” he asked. “Oh me, I really love rock..” Both of you began walking as the other two sat on the couches to talk. You and Deaky came across a little clearing. There was a pavement floor and the high, grassy walls of the labyrinth from the afternoon. “You can’t go wrong with rock. But I’m fond of some soul stuff and…and disco!” he gushed. “Disco?” “Yes, disco! Have you ever been dancing, Y/N?” he asked, tilting his head. “Me? It’s been a while!” you confess. “Well, imagine we’re at a disco party-you have on some platform shoes….” You show him the ankle of the heels you have on for tonight “These heels might as well be platforms!” “Well then, let’s practice then!” He then dances with you lightly, humming an Earth, Wind, and Fire song, moving your hands in tandem as you sway in tune and then shake. “Dah nah nuh-like that!” Both of you giggle. He then blushes, hiding part of his face in his hands. “Oh-I’m sorry! It’s a different side of me-and Brian and Rog don’t like disco-like me…” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Because they’re idiots! Disco is amazing!” Freddie blurted to the oblivious reality stars. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Deaky! No need to apologize-it’s what makes you happy!” He smiled sweetly and you smiled back. You led him back, to where the four of you saw in front of a table, taking the last of your drinks. A platter of cheese and crackers was passed around that everyone nibbled on. Then there was a white plate with only one rose you hadn’t noticed until now. Thinking it over, you took the bloom. The three men sat up straighter. You twirled the rose in your fingers as they froze where they were. But then glanced over with a biting smile. “I thank each of you for your time…Ringo, you make me smile…John, you really opened up but…Deaky, will you accept this group date rose?” Nodding his auburn head, he whispered “absolutely, half hugging you.” Chris Harrison then walked in. “Gentlemen, you may now join the rose ceremony. And there is a chance that if you did not receive that rose, you may be packing tonight…”

[a-race-of-cannibal-ducks]

Chapter 1.

Yes, I haven’t considered a title for this yet. This is only chapter 1 of a 2, perhaps 3, part fic about Jem, Will and Jessamine aged fourteen (thank Herondale for this idea). It’s sad, it’s angsty and apparently the plot made people cry! It’s quite Jessamine centeric, but also focuses a lot on Jem and Will. Withought giving much away: arguments, crying. Enjoy. (Also please note I know Sophie wasn’t with them at the time, but I suck with names so Herondale and I decided all maids were Sophie now).

Spirits were anything but high and tensions were anything but low. A series of missing - presumed dead - mundanes had sparked the attention of the London Institute and Enclave, leading to tri-weekly meetings lead by an ever-more growing stressed Charlotte Branwell and an incredibly tired Henry Branwell. At morning breakfast, the tension was palpable.

Sitting around the large square table, were the residents of the London Insitutue, a low murmer filling the room as food was brought out and set down in the centre of the table. Toast, eggs, bacon - often enjoyable foods the people sitting around the table would savour. But no one seemed to be collecting anything for their plate. Everyone's eyes seemed to be stern and sorrowful.

"Oh do please have something," Charlotte sighed, lightly buttering a slice of browned toast. "It'll keep your energy up," she added, stealing a quick glance at her husband, Henry, whose eyes seemed to be trained to his copy of the news paper. The news paper had been surpisingly useful as of late, stating whether or not the mudanes had returned - dead or alive.

Sucking in a shallow breathe, Charlotte asked,"is there anything of use in there today?"

Henry shook his head, taking a sip of the steaming cup of tea which Sophie had poured for him. "Nothing I can find, but I'm looking." The reply was quick, uncertain, especially as updates had been appearing within the first few pages of the newspaper if there had been any.

Across from Charlotte and Henry, sat Jessamine, her face pressed to her hand as she picked at the corner of her toast spread with a thin layer of strawberry jam. "It's not like he's doing a good job of it; he's probably missed something," Jessamine bit, her tone laced with frustration. Being fourteen, it wasn't much of her place to be doing work on this case, nor her position to comment on the ability of Shadowhunters her senior.

"I don't suppose you'd do much better," Will replied, shooting an angered look at Jessamine. He, like Jessamine, was also fourteen and unable to be much of an assistance to anyone (in fact, one may call him a nuisance with the amount of remarks he seemed to make whenever tasked with helping out Charlotte or Henry) but still criticised Jessamine.

At this, Jessamine looked affronted - she wasn't known to be much of a worker nor a trainer, in fact, she despised the idea of even becoming a Shadowhunter at all. Often, she'd refuse to handle any and all weapons, she had only read very certain parts of the Shadowhunter's Codex, and wasn't very attentive to her studies. So, rather than replying, she scowled and continued to stare at her toast.

"Do stop the unnecessary bickering," Jem, Will's parabatai, replied, waiting for some angered reply from Jessamine which didn't come. Instead it was a weary Charlotte who had just checked the large clock behind her for time.

"Benedict and the rest of the Enclave will be here presently... Henry and I will be in the Great Library, but please try to leave us undisturbed," Charlotte spoke, her tone almost pleading as she rose. They were very often interrupted by anyone of the younger Shadowhunters whilst in the middle of a meeting - but this one was important. Charlotte gently tugged at the hand of Henry once she was standing fully, an urge to pry him away from the newspaper which had been ruled useless nonsense.

"Is there anything which needs doing?" Jem asked before Henry and Charlotte had exited, his tone was more quiet than usual, despite getting a world more sleep the night before. The question earned groans and sighs from Will and Jessamine, people who did not want to do anything extra.

But Charlotte shook her head. "No, I don't believe there is. If you'd like to catch up on studies or perhaps do some weapons training? Do be careful though." Charlotte directed her last sentence as Will as Jem nodded and the two older shadowhunters departed the room.

It took a good few more moments before Sophie appeared, a small smile on her face and her cap slightly askew. "Are you all finished?" her tone joyful and slightly accented with a cockney accent.

"Send Agatha my thanks," Will joked, seemingly ignoring the previous slight altercation. Although, when he looked down at his plate, he still saw his slice of toast and rash of back, almost perfectly intact.

Standing up, Will and Jem pushed in their chairs as they began to leave the grand dining room, leaving Jessamine sat in her seat, head still pressed to her hands. "Why do you always have to do everything together?" She asked as immediate regret filled her. She hurriedly pushed in her chair to catch up with the boys.

"Well," Will started, his tone already dripping in sarcasm. "Would you care to spar, Miss Lovelace?" he knelt in an almost proposal sort of way while Jem stood behind him, shaking his head very lightly.

"Of course I don't!" Jessamine exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a piqued manor. How dare he? Of course she didn't want to spar with him!

"Why ever not?" Will laughed, coming up from the position on the ground. "Are you afraid I'd win?" he asked, turning to Jem, who was doing nothing to diffuse the situation yet. "James Carstairs, your thoughts?" Will asked.

Jem blinked a few times, trying to focus himself back in. During the second brief altercation, he'd let his mind wander a little and found himself disconnected and relatively dizzy. "Perhaps we could interest Jessie in something we could all enjoy, hm?" His tone was light and kind. It was a talent of his, the ability to find a solution for everybody.

"I'm not afraid of anything you do William, but more, a lady doesn't fight!" Jessamine retorted.

"A lady?" Will scoffed. "You're a Shadowhunter, Jessamine! That's all you'll be, and a bloody bad one at that if you keep up the way which you're going. I very much doubt you've attended a single weaponry lesson, and only occasionally bother to turn up for other such studies!" William wasn't angry at her, per say, she could do as she pleased for all he cared, but it was something which Will knew would upset Jessamine. She never wanted to be here, to be a Shadowhunter. But neither did Will. Infact, none of them chose to even be in the London Institute anyway!

Jessamine felt the breath leave her body for a second, wide eyed. How could he say such a thing? She didn't have to be a Shadowhunter and she didn't need to learn Shadowhunter things! Tears pricked the back of her eyes and flashes of her mother and father shone behind her eyes. Oh how she missed them.

"You can't say that!" Jessamine spoke, her voice raised, not saying more for fear of the prickling tears becoming streaming ones.

"I can't? Well, I am aware I have a voice, so-" Will got cut off.

Jem had moved from behind Will to be standing in front of them both, a frustrated look on his pale and tired eyes. Jem always came to be the mediator - never Charlotte, never Henry - it was always Jem. Often, he was fine with it, allowing himself to have an open mind and take no sides. But this time... everything Will had said to Jessamine, it truly exasperated him to no end, but Jem also wasn't one to lose his temper.

"Take a moment," Jem started, taking a breath that was harder than it should have been. "Think about what you're both saying." He coughed. "Will, d-do you really... think that's what you o-ought to be," Jem coughed again, a few more times, bringing the taste of metal to the back of his mouth.

"Jem... are you feeling alright?" Will ask, sudden vulnerability rushing into his voice, rather than the sarcastic and hurtful tone he used to jab at Jessamine.

Jessamine stood motionless, still reeling from Will's prior comment, and now Jem. She knew he was ill, but not to which nature nor degree - it wasn't a highly discussed subject and Charlotte kept much of the details very hush-hush. But she knew the Silent Brothers were unable to cure whatever troubled him and, she'd heard, a few comments here-and-there passed around that death was inevitable.

Brushing off the concern, Jem went on. "Ought to be saying while the Institute is..." he tried to take a breath again, but it was harder, his chest was tight and heavy. He closed his eyes briefly for a moment of solidarity, but the moment he opened them again, everything was dimmer than he remembered and he could feel himself slowly collapse to the ground, a fit of coughing wracked his body.

"Jem," Will said hurriedly, dropping to the ground beside his friend as he supported his head, pulling out the handkerchief he had stuffed into his black trouser pocket and handed it to Jem. Will glared at Jessamine who was frozen in shock and terror, her heart pounding in her throat and she could feel the blood rushing in her ears.

"This is your fault," Will bit at Jessamine, colder than she had ever heard before. "If you hadn't said anything..." Will knew it wasn't Jessamine's fault, he knew it wasn't but he couldn't do much more than blame her.

Shaking, Jessamine shoved her arms into a crossed position, trying to fend off all of the memories which she and Jem had. Although she would never admit it, she saw quite a friend in Jem. Whenever she was having a difficult time at night, Jem would happily come to her room, to have conversations about whatever she wanted to, play with her dolls if she liked. Jem would play Father doll and Jessamine would play Mother and Baby Jessie doll. It was always a normal day they would playout, breakfast, piano, reading together. Jessamine's eyes welled up further with tears, this time she couldn't blink them back.

TAG LIST (hey guys, this is my Shadowhunter sideblog!): @wicked-books-101@bchcadcd @rubys-finger-cymbals @lessix

[written-in-sunshine]

The Party’s Crashing Us 01/02 - Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff - SFW

Title: The Party’s Crashing Us Author: Donnie Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Setting: Stark Tower (Another new one) Pairing: Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, Implied Natasha Romanov/Wanda Maximoff Characters: Clint Barton, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Thor Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance Rating: M Chapters: 1/2 Word Count: 2018 Type of Work: Two-Shot Status: Incomplete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, AU - Canon Divergent, Fix-It Fic, Post-Age Of Ultron, Pietro’s Alive, Angst, Emotions, Sex in second chapter, Past Abuse, Past Trauma, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Deaf Character, More To Come Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Clint had been living in a fog since that day in Sokovia. Natasha (and Tony) had just what he needed to clear up his mind. AN: So… I keep writing these two. Between angst and smut I just really need both, evidently, because it’s going to be sad, and then happy, and then maybe sad again. Who knows. xD At any rate, I’ll be working on this between chapters of Predating Predators, which is sort of how it started. I was going to focus on this fic, and then the idea kind of hit for the other fic and it ended up happening before this one was even finished. So, evidently, I just need to keep working on both of them. I'm going to get onto Predating Predators part two next, so don't worry. I hope you guys are as excited for these as I am! Chapter two will be purely NSFW, but this one is fine. Angsty, mostly, but not NSFW. Here we go!

MCU Fic Masterlist Chapter One: Pleasant Surprises ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Clint Barton had always been a fan of Tony Stark. 

Sure, they argued fairly often, and they really didn’t get along unless everyone else was present and there were booze and food and music playing quietly in the background… Okay, so Clint Barton had always been a fan of Tony Stark’s parties, and that couldn’t have been closer to the truth when Natasha strong-armed him out of bed for that evening’s celebrating. Whatever Tony was reveling, Clint had had no desire to have a part in it, but his old friend knew him well enough. She knew what he needed and assured him that this would be better than moping in his room sober before going home to Laura. He hadn’t been the same, not since they returned from Sokovia, and she seemed to be the only one with a full grasp of why. Steve chalked it up to losing someone he wanted to mentor, someone he had only just started to see as a friend. Tony stated that Clint had always been quiet unless he was getting drunk, so it was obvious that he just needed some booze in him. Thor and Wanda had kept their ideas mostly quiet, even if it seemed Thor could still chat off someone’s ear about it. His biggest priority was that neither Clint nor Wanda heard it.  Speaking of, he hadn’t heard much about Wanda, not in a week or so. He figured he was the last person she wanted to see; hell, he was the last person he wanted to see, which was why he’d gotten awfully scruffy since their return.  The party warranted a shave, apparently, if Natasha’s cherry lips curved in a smirk around the words, ‘I think you’ll want to look your best tonight.’ told him anything. At least he was present enough in some part of his mind that he didn’t have to walk out with bath tissue stuck to his face to cover anywhere that he’d messed up. A simple, black V-neck t-shirt clung to his torso, something Nat had left out for him on his bed, and a pair of jeans that were baggy in the places that mattered and tight in the ones that mattered more polished off his look.  Silent as ever, he entered the party not long after Natasha graced everyone with her presence. She kissed cheeks and hands alike, and Clint took a vague note that it seemed she was awfully close to Wanda. It seemed only natural; birds of a feather flocked together, after all. Of course, Natasha and Wanda would be friends. Before he found himself questioning anything further, he turned his entire body away and headed for the bar. Tonight was already going to push him into a bottle, apparently, because the second he got his hands on a beer, he was whisked away by Thor. “--I said ‘No, I don’t. I think--” “Thor--” Clint couldn’t have gotten his attention if he wanted to, not at this rate. He was going on and on so fast that he hardly wanted to pay attention. Fast wasn’t what he needed right now. When the barrage of words didn’t seem to stop, he simply plucked his hearing aids from his ears. The action went unnoticed, and he was thankful for that, simply nodding along whenever Thor looked to him. He offered a soft snort of a laugh every so often when it looked like the blond was incredibly excited, hoping that it was right but not exactly caring. Thor was good-natured enough, he wouldn’t be too hurt if he knew why Clint had wanted to spend his night alone. Footsteps vibrated behind him and he felt a familiar, delicate hand on his shoulder. It took just a second before she slid in front of him, tapping her ear for a second. Turning slightly away from Thor, who had already found someone else to jabber at, he pushed the aids back in and closed his eyes, mouth turning up at one corner and then the other as he readjusted to the sounds around him. Waiting patiently, Nat watched the grumpy look return to his face before he swallowed down the rest of the beer he’d apparently been chugging.  “Yeah?” He finally asked, when her waiting was starting to toy with his buzz. Usually, if she had something to say, she’d say it. Tonight, apparently, he was going to have to guess. “Got a surprise for you, Barton.” She teasingly punched his shoulder and he rose a brow at her instead. “You need to come see, though. I know Steve’s going to want to see you, uh… With your gift.” Confusion was written in the draw of his brow as he stepped forward, following her along like a mindless man with nothing better to do. Maybe that’s what he'd been for the last two weeks.  “You haven’t been yourself for over a month.” She informed, turning to look at him over her shoulder while they walked. Shock fluttered his eyelids and he glanced around to attempt to find the date. It didn’t quite work, but he didn’t exactly have it in him to ask JARVIS right now. In fact, he kind of wished he had another beer.  They rounded a corner and Wanda passed them, holding out a spare beer, the kind Clint liked. He took it with another crease in his brow and a soft grunt of acknowledgment, and she gave him a private, knowing smile. Coming from someone who had once been intent on getting in his head, he had to wonder just what she knew. If she knew anything at all. And if she did… Why was she smiling? Was it some sick enjoyment out of watching his own misery at the same loss she suffered? “Clint.” Natasha whistled and his head jerked to her, a soft, almost apologetic smile on her face, “Almost. Come on. I’m sure you aren’t the only one confused.”  This was a setup. He’d been the reason another teammate died and Nick Fury was trying to punish him if the Widow was giving him that look. Another corner, a set of stairs up to the terrace, and Clint was positive he was going to die. It only perpetuated the thought when the reason he’d climbed the stairs turned to look at him and it felt like a physical blow to the chest. In that same accent, maybe more tired than cocky, Pietro let a lazy smile work over his lips as he spoke. “What? Didn’t see this coming?”  As it turned out, it was Pietro who didn’t see something coming. And, maybe, everyone else in the room. Clint stalked across the floor and lifted the white-haired male from the couch. For a second, Wanda’s hands shimmered red but Natasha held up a hand to get her to wait. Wanda didn’t dare touch his mind, but Pietro’s faltering smile had her ready to chance it. When Clint all but yanked him into a tight embrace and made a choked sound, she lost her breath almost the same time that her brother did.  Pietro let out a shaky breath when he realized that, while he wasn’t entirely immobile, he was being clutched in a good way, and wrapped his arms around the other’s back, just under his armpits. With flat palms pressed to Clint’s shoulder blades, he gasped a little as the elder pressed his nose to his neck and inhaled deeply. All that it took was two words to topple Clint into a shaking, sobbing mess.  “You’re alive.”  At least his dear friend had the foresight to shoo everyone from the room and keep an eye on Tony in order to give them some semblance of privacy.  “I… I am.” When was the last time someone other than his sister had hugged him? He couldn’t remember a touch that didn’t leave him aching that was from someone else. Clint certainly had him reeling as he staggered a little closer to finish squeezing all the air out from between them.  “You’re alive.” Clint repeated, unashamed of the level of brokenness in his voice. His lips grazed the younger male’s forehead and the crown of his hair, and Pietro stilled entirely for a moment, holding his breath. He waited for a hundred things to happen and nothing really did, instead, he was oddly safe, oddly warm and his cheeks burned something awful. Above him, muttered words sounded almost like a prayer, and he didn’t bother asking what they meant. For the first time in a long time, someone other than Wanda was touching him, holding him, and he felt exhilarated.  Pietro Maximoff had never believed in soul mates, never once thought he would find anything that made him feel like he was the only person in the world for someone, but here he was, resting his head against Clint’s shoulder. He hummed absently to the beat of the song playing softly downstairs, and neither of them really knew who began it, but they began to rock together, slowly. It didn’t take long at all before Pietro’s eyes had drooped so low he figured it was better just to close them. Another beat passed and Clint’s lips parted, words dancing from his lips that made the speedster’s pulse jump in his chest. You keep your distance with a system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Pietro could tell his cheeks were warm, and he nestled his face into the joint of Clint’s neck and shoulder. It felt too good to be held, to have those soft words sang so gently into his hair, and it was drawing him into a safe headspace. Without thinking, he leaned up suddenly and took in the other’s steely eyes with those shockingly blue ones. Smiling sweetly, disarmingly, he leaned in to press his lips to the elder’s, working the softest, glossiest mouth against Clint’s rough lips.  At first, the elder man was still and stiff, staring down at the other before finally letting his eyes slide closed. Hands slipping down to Pietro’s hips, following an unconscious suggestion from those too-quick hands, he leaned into him, bringing the other in close. Breath mingling as their foreheads pressed together, Pietro’s eyelids fluttered as he looked into Clint’s eyes. For a moment he held his breath, as if afraid that this would disappear if he let loose a harsh breath. It didn’t stop Clint from the ragged panting, his dark eyes searching the other’s emotionless face. Pietro was good at hiding himself if he truly needed to, and he must have felt an odd need. Biting his lip, Clint opened his mouth a second later to try and apologize, but he was silenced by another kiss. “Do not speak.” Pietro whispered into his mouth, letting his words be swallowed down, “We may not be permitted, but just for tonight.”  As much as he wanted to agree that it would be a one-time thing, Clint knew he wouldn’t be able to get the silver-haired speed demon out of his head. The almost crushing grip he had on the other’s thin hips was enough to tell him that. “What makes you think I wouldn’t--” But he had to stop that thought before it ran away from him, “Should we find a spare room?” Even if Pietro ended up backing out, at the very least he could hold him and remind himself that the kid wasn’t dead. “Da.” Pietro informed softly, his mind focused a little more on preparing for what was inevitable. The best he’d done in the past probably would remain in the top spot, as he’d found most men couldn’t exactly bring themselves to make it good for the pair of them. The tenseness in his back only had Clint’s hands smoothing down his back until he relaxed. Without warning, he lifted the speedster and held him like a princess against his chest, starting them for the highest point the Tower offered.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: Alright, there we have it! Chapter one is DONE! ; u; Chapter two will be pure smut so like, prepare yourselves. Probably some angst, too, to be honest, but we’ll have fun.

[dontcallmecarrie]

By Myself But Not Alone

Another day, another test, another fic-idea-that-won’t-leave-me-alone. Specifically: time-travel fixits are really fun to see, but there’s a few takes on it that’ve stuck with me throughout the years, across fandoms. Even more specifically: ones where it’s not just one person waking up in the past, but several, and not always in the same place. Add in my weird mood where anything I touch turns to not-crack, plus glimpsing some Infinity Wars spoilers despite not being caught up, and ta-da! [Aka oops, I did it again.]

Heads up for quite a bit of angst, possible shippiness [depends on the version], and unapologetic canon-dropped-the-ball-on-Tony stance.  Title from Metallica’s ‘Wherever I May Roam’.

So, AU where, for whatever reason, people in the MCU after a certain point wake up in the past. 

Kicker being, it’s pretty damn scattershot from there; Steve’s memories kick in when he first sees Times Square after waking up from the ice, Natasha’s mid-mission somewhere in Bangladesh when she realizes some of her fellow operatives are probably. HYDRA and she can’t do a thing about it, Thor’s just seen his brother fall from the Bifrost and he’s alarming his parents because he’s acting even stranger than usual in his grief. Bucky wakes up after falling from the train, sees where he is, and goes “oh hells no” and promptly fucking off to Wakanda because even if they’re mistrustful of outsiders and will be for decades, between what he’s managed to pick up on the language, and his skills, there’s probably something he can do to help out, right? [Between long naps, anyway...or maybe he just goes full-on ninja instead, idk] Fury’s mid-conversation with Maria Hill in HQ when they both go “oh fuck what year is it” and the list just goes on. 

At first, everyone’s assuming they’re the only ones who traveled back, and they set out to fix things even as they’re reeling because hello, old friend who I haven’t seen in years since your painful death, how are you?

The more time goes on, though, the more everyone realizes they’re not the only ones running around, and the fact that people’re arriving at different points in time means it is a headache. Was AIM running around this early, last time? When the fuck was the Winter Soldier a mercenary and not the fist of HYDRA? What do you mean he’s infamous for his bodyguarding contracts and not assassinations?! Wait, you mean Howard Stark’s still alive?

On the plus side, after a while they realize the time travel thing’s not a one-off. The more time passes, the more people start to remember. [They’ve got a support group going by the time Steve remembers.]

Cue tearful reunions, feat. “oh god I didn’t think I was going to see you again” and “oh thank fuck I’m not the only one”. Everyone who remembers starts to put their heads together, sorting out their timeline to fix things without tripping over each other, to figure out what they can and can’t fix.

It’s not all sunshine and roses, though; Bucky punched Steve after the ‘yeah, I didn’t tell Tony about who actually killed his parents thing’ after it comes up, and he’s not the only one judging him hard afterwards and he resolves to fix it because he really is sorry. But hey, this is a whole new world, one where SHIELD never got corrupted, where the Winter Soldier is just a handle Bucky uses instead of decades’ worth of HYDRA conditioning. In many ways, it’s almost a vacation; seeing and reconnecting with loved ones, especially given the clusterfuck that happened in their original timeline.

...however. This is a whole new world, and that’s not necessarily always a good thing. Like, sure, there’s quite a few things that’re better here, but. 

Thanos is still coming, and due to the butterfly effect, there’s a whole slew of new guys that hadn’t come up in their timeline, like MODOK, like Crimson Widow, grad students they should keep an eye on because this Richards kid was going places and so was his friend, Victor von-something. Stark Industries is still selling weapons by the bucketload, since Howard Stark’s an unapologetic war hawk, has been since the Manhattan Project. But the biggest problem? 

It’s 2008, and Tony Stark has yet to make an appearance. Not in a way that matters, at least, to the people who remember him from another life.

———————

okay, from here I can see this going several ways:

[under the cut because this got long and RIP mobile users otherwise]

the super-angsty break-it-even-more version:

Warning: this one’s got suicidal thoughts leading to Major Character Death. Also, vaguely shippy, with possible Stephen/Tony.

Tony’s last coherent memories are of the bomb with his name on it, when it hits. Suddenly, it’s not just his past flashing before his eyes, but his future as well—years’ worth of memories, of trauma after trauma with next to no support whatsoever because the world did its best to break him—and...in that instant, he’s tired. 

He’s so, so tired, and he sees the road ahead and the idea of having to do that all over again is just. Too much. He knows the agony that follows, and knows that he was lucky to have survived a bomb to the chest last [this?] time, and...even if he’s terrified at the prospect of Thanos coming, he just. Can’t. 

He can’t, anymore, he’d barely managed to pull through last time, asking him to do it all over again was too much—and, seeing the bomb with his literal name on it, Tony sees an out. 

The world’s better off without him in it, anyway.

—

Everyone is shocked and dismayed, when the reports come in. Tony Stark never came back from Afghanistan, and there is a lot of grief to go around, in the time that follows. The world mourns a prodigy; the people that remember Iron Man, remember Tony, mourn a good man who they never really had the chance to meet. 

Fury in particular’s very, very quiet, after hearing the reports come in; he’s lost good people before, but...he’d seen Tony grow up, what with him being the kid of one of the founders of SHIELD and all. He’d seen the potential, seen it realized, seen just what kind of force for good he was—so when he hears the reports come in, he feels every single one of his years weigh down on him in a way they hadn’t before. It takes slightly longer than normal, pull himself together, to focus on how this latest development’d affect things now that they were minus a heavy hitter [in more ways than one].

Steve, meanwhile, is inconsolable. He’d had his regrets, had been working on fixing them, and one the biggest ones had been with Tony. He’d never had the chance to set the record straight, never had the chance to apologize—and now, he never will.  

Tony’s loss ia a huge blow, to those who remember Iron Man. 

Especially the more time goes on, and the impact of what could have done are felt: it’s in the scandal that erupts, when the VP of Stark Industries is caught double-dealing, it’s in the incredibly tense sociopolitical climate that follows because even if they’ve done their best to fix things, nobody’s around to privatize world peace. It’s in the recklessness the new Spider-Man’s actions, after Peter remembers—pushing himself so, so hard, trying to save everyone the same way his mentor once had him.

...it’s also in the questions everyone has, after Thanos rocks up and apart from the Avengers, there’s a goddamn robot army flying out to wage  war because apparently Tony’s AI were a bit more Skynet than anyone had expected. Or, actually, no—more sentient than expected, and wasn’t that a kick in pants, that JARVIS remembered not only his but Vision’s experiences as well, after hearing about Tony’s death?

wait, no. Too angsty, here, have a fixit.

Dr. Stephen Strange wakes up right after his first fight with the followers of Dormammu, and the Ancient One and Mordo are more than slightly worried when he looks like he’s about to cry when he sees them afterwards. Even more worried, once they check for magic, and the following conversation gives them all a migraine because they’re still not quite sure what sent him back in time, and that the Eye of Agamotto seems to have taken a liking to him only complicates things even further.

When he hears of Tony’s death, well...he doesn’t take it well. Specifically, after finding out he’s not the only one who remembers Tony from a different world, there’s a bit of yelling, and him storming out afterwards in grief.

To sum up: his emotional state after getting wind of it’s more volatile than anything else, which, as it turns out, makes for some interesting results when you’re the Time Stone’s favorite person. 

Specifically, Stephen opened a portal intending to go the Sanctum to mourn in privacy, how the fuck he ended up in the middle of a desert, he doesn’t know. How the fuck he ended up right by the same outcropping as Tony did the moment the bomb landed not ten feet from them, he doesn’t know but isn’t about to question. He just sees Tony’s face—fear shifting to shock shifting to remembering shifting to despair—realizes what’s about to happen, and grabs Tony as he immediately makes a portal back to the Sanctum. 

Cue even more headaches. The Ancient One, Mordo, and Wong are not amused by how fast and loose they’ve been messing with the timestream, and that the Eye is showing blatant favoritism doesn’t help. At all. 

On the plus side,  they’re also able to table that in favor of helping the shell-shocked guy who’s like a breeze from having a nervous breakdown. Cue therapy. Lots of therapy. Also, the ‘oops we accidentally faked your death’ reveal, what with the time travel thing, which then leads to some reunions because Tony could go a lifetime without seeing Steve again but he hasn’t heard JARVIS in years. 

...is this a shatterpoint of  a fic idea? Can’t tell anymore.

The more-bittersweet-than-anything-else version:

also slightly shippy, only it’s Steve/Tony here instead.

Everyone remembers. Everyone, but Tony.

They keep as close an eye on him as they can, given that JARVIS’ pretty paranoid about hacking and they’d have to go through Pepper to actually see. him. But they manage, even if it’s pretty tricky before Afghanistan.

Fury’s the  most straightforward; he’s shameless  about  using his connections to get an excuse to see how Tony’s doing, and Tony remembers seeing him around the mansion with Howard as a kid often enough to let it slide. [Especially  since SHIELD’s also buying quite a few guns for their personnel, there’s that, too.] 

After Afghanistan, the rest of them start to trickle in, similar to canon. 

Here, however, the dynamics are a lot kinder, a lot less terse. No thinly-veiled threats, no blackmail; when Tony returns after his ‘I Am Iron Man’ press conference, it’s because JARVIS remembers and Fury managed to convince him that he’s genuinely trying to do better this tine. Howard’s notes and old stuff get shipped over as soon as Phil Coulson can come with an excuse for it, because palladium poisoning is just...no. 

...you get the idea. Canon ensues, and Tony’s doing his thing, kicking ass, taking names, and trying to make the world a better place. Except here, everyone who remembers is seeing him in a way they hadn’t really, before, and treating him differently because of it. 

Tony picks up on it pretty fast—kinda hard not to, considering everything.  There’s an element of regret he sees some people, sometimes, but he doesn’t know why and it is baffling. Not only that, but...it’s almost like they know him? Almost like they can see pasts his masks? Weird.

Meanwhile everyone else’s low-key expecting Tony to remember any day no, but no dice. Kind of a bummer. Oh, sure, Pepper and Rhodey’ll give him all the hugs regardless, but still. Also, Steve wants to get some things off his. chest, and this Tony’s both so similar and so different to his, it’s almost painful.

Time goes on, canon ensues, only this time, a lot of missed opportunities are taken. 

Bruce sees the way Tony tentatively reaches out and listens, Steve calls him  when he gives him his number, Thor returns earlier, and the list just goes on. [...aka all the self-indulgence. All of it.] There’s a lot of impromptu hugs that Tony’s still very confused by, and strange looks, but...these people care, for some reason. It’s weird, but...he likes it. 

More and more people show up,  and it’s the same thing: he clicks with Strange almost as fast as he did with Bruce, although Peter’s hero-worship is still something that takes a while to get used to. 

Even if he sometimes feels like they’re seeing someone else when they look at him, but that can’t be right, can it? Well, fortunately that feeling goes away after a while, but still. It was weird while it lasted.

Tony doesn't remember because of Reasons. Maybe he repressed said memories because of the trauma, maybe that part of him was just too tired to make the trip, idk, you decide.

[lethesomething]

2017 fic roundup

So I blatantly stole this meme from @themorninglark​. Feel free to make one for yourself, you writey people. I found it pretty helpful.

Because it's as good a time as any for some retrospective, and honestly, my writing can probably use some reflection.

my 2017 in fic writing

Total year-long word count: 287,599 Word count by fandom: Haikyuu!!: 241,726 Kuroko no Basket: 4,181 Boku no Hero Academia: 43,790 Original: 960

Fics completed: (I’m not going to do all of them, but these are notable)

The Lock, the Key and the Sacrifice (138,040 words): Haikyuu!!, a sprawling urban fantasy story and my first big fic (started in 2016, last third finished in 2017, but I’m counting the whole thing)

Monsters (45,038 words): Haikyuu!!, a rarepair TenSuga romance in a Vampire Yakuza Urban Goth Coffeeshop au. Because I can.

Chocolate Hearts (42,308 words): BNHA. A slow burn romance for Aizawa x Reader.

A Fairy-tale Haikyuu: Flash fic edition (497 words): The first time I tried my hand at flash fiction. Made for HQBrofest.

On villains and trust (888 words): BNHA. A serious attempt  to start a rarepair by writing fluff for Tokoyami x Shinsou

Thirst (596 words): BNHA. Poetic naked Aizawa.

Putting the rest under a cut for length

 Works-in-progress: My Girlfriend is a Goddess?!: Haikyuu!!, a gift for the Fantasy Exchange, which got out of hand completely. (we’re currently 52,280 words in)

 This year I wrote and posted: 10 fics

 Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? Absolutely. Somewhere around August, I became Extremely Wordy, and now everything I write takes up way more space than anticipated. I'm still not sure what happened, but all those long ones up there, apart from The lock, the key and the sacrifice, were all written in the last half of the year.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Tokoyami x Shinsou came out of nowhere and started out as a sort of joke with @leeva-z-kai​. I also never thought I'd be writing Aizawa reader inserts, but here we are. Considering my tastes in fictional characters, I should have probably seen that coming.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? I'm going to have to say The lock, the key and the sacrifice, for the sheer amount of time and effort I put into that, and for the immense sense of relief and satisfaction upon completing my first big project. I wrote a friggin book. That is a thing I did and I'm pretty proud of that.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? I try to do new things to challenge myself with everything I write. I think the biggest risk I took, from a… fandom type side, is Monsters, because I knew from the very start that it definitely wouldn't be popular. It literally started as a way to prove to the world that you can dump several au's together, and then why not add a rarepair and lots of gore for good measure.

Your best story of this year: It's kinda hard to discern here between huge, enormous fics and the little ones, but, um, let's go with Thirst, because while that is very short, I like every single sentence in it.

Your most popular story of this year: Without a doubt Chocolate hearts. Still kinda reeling from the popularity of that one. I don't know if it was the timing, or the fact that the Aizawa is strong in the fandom, but it seems to have really hit a nerve.

Story of yours most under-appreciated by the universe, in your opinion: That which was not broken is one of the most personal stories I've ever written, which probably clouds my judgement. To a regular person I assume it's a cloying, angsty, almost teenager sentimental rarepair, and that's… fair. But it's currently sitting at 66 views and that's mildly disappointing.

Most fun story to write: Intersectional feminist mermaids. For the rather simple reason that I don't remember writing most of it. It's one of those 'chat lodged a story idea in my head' moments that I quickly typed out. I found the story months after initially writing it and then just finished it.

Story with the single sexiest moment: I've written surprisingly little smut this year. For some reason, my sexiest moments are mostly Aizawa, and he is just a lot better in soft, fluffy touches and understated movements and just… subtext than as straight up porn. So that whole scene with the hair in Thirst is Peak Sexy to me.

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you" story: Yeah… Monsters. It has like… people-to-food factories and stuff. There’s a lot of weirdness in there.

Story that shifted your own perceptions of the characters: On Villains and Trust was a lot of fun, because I wrote it almost on a dare and I'd never considered those characters in that setting. The thing with writing rarepair is that if you do it well enough, those two characters suddenly look like they're made for each other. So that happened…

Hardest story to write: I struggled a lot with Monsters, but I think I'm currently struggling more with My Girlfriend is a Goddess!?, so I'll pick that because it's fresh in my mind. It has something to do with how hard I find it to focus on a specific set of characters, and to find the balance between telling too much of their mundane life, and telling too little.

Biggest surprise: Considering Chocolate Hearts was mostly written in a fever dream, a random flash of inspiration that pushed actual, planned fics out of the way, I wasn't really expecting it to go down as well as it did. The near daily feedback and the full blast of emotions from the people in the comments was incredible.

Biggest disappointment: This is gonna sound stupid. But after having one fic that was really warmly welcomed, the gap that came after Chocolate Hearts was… difficult. Like, I'm used to fics getting a hundred or a couple hundred views, and a few comments from friends and the occasional wanderer. But after seeing what Could Be, it was hard to go back to life as normal. So while I realize that because of the timing, or the fandom, or the subject matter, I shouldn't expect too much from some fics, the reception of Monsters, and especially My Girlfriend is a Goddess?! has been… disappointing.

Most unintentionally telling story: I suppose That which was not broken was an intentionally telling story. So let's go with A man walks into a bar, because I never realized how big my personal need is to write a ridiculous space opera.

Favorite opening line(s): He drinks his coffee black.  (from Monsters)

Favorite closing line(s): It had been two years, but Akaashi still painted any new men he met with the same brush, only to find that the picture wasn’t as beautiful as Kuroo’s. (from That which was not broken)

It holds promises of friendly conversation and creativity and maybe, just a little bit, of adventure.(from The lock, the key and the sacrifice)

Favorite 5 line(s) from anywhere:

Cheese crackers, also, because everyone likes those, even mermaids. (from A fairytale)

Tortugan native beer was only 'beer’ because they changed the definition of the word for marketing purposes. The tortugans didn’t so much brew, as drink rocks. Literally. They dissolved minerals into water to get high. Unsurprisingly, it tasted like dirt. (from A man walks into a bar)

« He nodded and said 'I understand', » he went on. « And then we agreed that he doesn't ask questions and I don't tell him things that could cause an existential crisis for an experimental physicist. »(from My Girlfriend is a Goddess?!)

His skin is flushed, heat turning it a shade darker than normal, and the low light raises up his scars, turning them into islands of gold in a pool of vermilion.(from Thirst)

Semi Eita, 1,8 metres of undiluted sex appeal, folds his arms and looks around the coffee shop with a small pout.(from Monsters)

Top 5 scenes from anywhere you would choose to have illustrated:

Kageyama Tobio on the world's creepiest beach, being a badass (in The lock, the key and the sacrifice)

The elaborate, alt Venetian feast, full of gaudily costumed people twirling around to music, like cogs in an overstuffed clock, would make a pretty picture, I think. (from The Golden God)

The flashback scene to Aizawa's graduation party, partly because of the sheer cringiness, and partly because hey, it’s a party under fairy lights. (in Chocolate Hearts)

Tendou fighting Iwaizumi in an abandoned homeless camp is one scene I wrote almost exclusively for the visual (in Monsters)

Bokuto and Akaashi at work in a mirrored attic feels like it would look really cool (in My Girlfriend is a Goddess?!)

 Fic-writing goals for next year:

I’m trying very hard to understand my own fic writing. I've written a lot this year, like a LOT, (probably too much, if I’m honest, not even counting the meta and the analyses and stuff) and I can feel myself evolving, but I have no idea where I’m going and why certain things work, and other things don't. So that’s something to figure out.

My main goal, I think, is to start writing slower again. I feel like I’m just more pleased with works that have been given the time to ripen, to stew a bit. Pacing, if you will.

[let-the-world-pass-by]

Someone Else (Evan x Reader Drabble)

25. “No strings attached.” with Evan 

Okay, so this wasn’t even a angsty prompt, it was a smut prompt. But your getting no sex and maybe some feels so sorry bout that. And this idea wasnt even requested and no one wanted this but I wrote it anyway??? Also I’ve never written angst so please please p l e a s e give me feedback. And I sort of tried some different things in this so let me know your thoughts?? please???

Warnings: none, more dialogue than needed, and unedited, terrible writing as always when it comes to these drabbles.

~ ~ ~ ~

“You know Zoe Murphy?”

“The girl you’ve been talking about everyday for literally 2 years? No I don’t think I know her” you laugh. You were currently staring at his face (well, where you assumed his face was) in the darkness. 

Tonight’s situation, you sleeping at Evan’s house, wasn’t arranged. It was spur of the moment, something you were used to. Like a hundred times before, you’d dragged the spare mattress from the other Hansen bedroom and placed it next to Evan’s bed. As always he’d offered his bed to you, and as always you refused, thinking that allowing you to stay at his house was kindness enough. Heidi hadn’t even questioned it because you were just friends right? Of course you and Evan wouldn't be having sex because you’re just friends, best friends, but nothing more, so why would she need to be worried? 

He laughs with you, pulling you away from your own thoughts. 

“I’ve been thinking about asking her out?” he says after a silence.

“Oh?”   

You just didn’t know what to say. He’s had a crush on her for years, his anxiety was getting better, and he was happy. There was no reason for him not to ask her out. They’d make an amazing couple and would make each other so - just so goddamn happy, wouldn’t they? Yeah, they would, and they deserve to be happy - at least thats what you're trying to convince yourself. 

“So whats stopping you?” 

“i’ve just been - well, I’ve just been over-thinking it I guess. Like even if I ask her out and even if she says yes, which I think its a long shot anyway -”

“Of course she’ll say yes, Ev, why wouldn’t she?” You interrupt him. 

“Oh .. um thanks, I don’t know? But then if she wants to kiss and i’ve never kissed anyone before, and I’m going to be so bad at it and there be no ... no fireworks and she’ll break up with me before we’ve even started dating”

You don’t even know why you said your next sentence. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t thought out, and it certainly wasn’t rational. But maybe it was because you said crazy things at 3am, or maybe because you were in love with your best friend. 

“Kiss me” you blurt out, not realising what you said until the words were already falling from your lips. “You know, for practice” you practically tripped over your own words, second guessing every response he could have as you continued to babble on. 

“it won’t be your first kiss, not your first proper one as I’m just - I’m just a friend, it won’t mean anything, no strings attached, and you can have your proper first kiss with Zoe, fireworks and all” you say, feigning a smile even in the dark. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin our friendship” Evan practically whispers.

“You’re my best friend, Ev, and you have been for years, and one meaningless little kiss isn’t going to change that.” you laugh, hoping it covers the nervousness you were feeling. 

He doesn’t respond. 

“But if you don’t want that its fine, I get it, I was out of line -”

“I want to - I mean I would really appreciate you doing that ... for me” he says, sincerely. 

“Uhh sure thing.” 

Through the darkness, you clamber onto the bed next to him, as Evan reaches over and switches his light.

You couldn’t deny he looked cute. His blue t-shirt was crumpled, and plaid pyjama pants were bobbled and worn at the knees as he sat crossed legged on top of his bed. His hair was already ruffled from laying down, and a sleepy smile graced his lips. 

“Didn’t you want to keep it off? Pretend I'm Zoe?” you joke, trying to diffuse whatever emotions were in the air. 

Evan just looks at his lap, but you see the corners of his mouth still turned up, your comment obviously not offending him. 

However his lack of a verbal response intensifies the doubts already playing around in your mind. 

“Maybe this was a stupid idea, I’m obviously sleep deprived -” you start but then his hand interlinks with yours and you stop in your tracks. 

“Its not a stupid. Not to me” he says, “Thank you for doing this” he says smiling at you. 

“No worries” you say, a small smile forming to match his.

“So ... where do I put my hands?” he asks after a pause. 

“Just put them on my waist,” you say, “or keep them in your lap, whatevers comfortable for you Ev” 

His hands move to your waist on top of a tee of his you had borrowed to sleep in. You just stare at each other for a moment, an awkward feeling passing between you. 

“Ok I’m going to ... kiss you now” you say, cringing at your words despite trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Ok, yes, please.” he stammers, his hands nervously grasping at your tee, clenching and unclenching it in his hands. 

You cup his cheeks in your hands. You close your eyes as you brush your lips to his. They’re softer than you expected, and warm, and you almost lose yourself already. 

After barely a few seconds, you pull back and smile, taking it slow for him. 

“Ok?” you question, your hands still on his cheeks. It was barely a peck but you still wanted to check everything was ok. 

“Was I ... alright?” he questions genuinely. 

“Well you didn’t hyperventilate so...” you laugh, removing your hands from his face. He smiles

“Can we go again?” he says. “I just want to be prepared you know”. 

“I know”. You knew what reassured him and comforted him because knew Evan’s anxiety inside out. You were the one he called when he was having a panic attack, when he was feeling anxious, or when he just needed someone to talk to. 

You were the one who was there. The one who was always there. 

You lean in again. This kiss is deeper but its still sweet, and tender, and innocent. 

You savour every second and every feeling: your nose pressed into his cheek, your foreheads touching softly, his blush radiating onto your skin. He’s soft and warm and gentle. He’s kind and loving and generous. And he’s not in love with you. 

You break away. You’re unsure whether these breaks were more for his benefit or yours. Either way you don’t have too long to ponder the thought until you feel Evan’s hands pull on your waist. 

He leans in this time, and suddenly your lips are connected for a third time. For a third time you're getting far too invested in a kiss that wasn’t meant to be shared, in feelings that weren’t meant to be felt, and in a boy that could never be yours. 

His hands tighten on your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his hands as he deepens the kiss and begins to take control. He runs his tongue across your lower lip like you had just done to him, and soon your the one who's blushing, your kiss getting hotter by the second. 

He moans softly, involuntarily, but that doesn’t stop him. He continues to kiss you like his life depended on it. 

And yes, your teeth and noses were bumping together, but that barely registered. There was only one thought on your mind: Evan. You were surrounded by him - his sheets, his clothes you’re wearing, his smell. You were overwhelmed, losing all sense of time and place, not knowing how long you spent kissing him. He was the only thing that mattered to you. 

You didnt want to do this, to get too into the kiss, to fall for him even more than you currently were. But here you were, falling in love with your best friend even though he was in love with someone else.

You needed to stop this. 

But it felt incredible.

But it was wrong, and you knew it. He was your best friend for god’s sake and he was in love with someone else.

You broke away, your breathing noticeably heavy as you tried to steady your thoughts. You were reeling. 

“Why did you stop? Did I - Was it ok?” Evan asked, meeting you eyes despite his nervous manner. 

“Oh yeah, you were ... really good” you said, trying to steady your voice. 

You didn’t even notice your hands had weaved through his hair until you moved them down to your lap, breaking the contact completely. 

“So why did -” he stops. He just stares at you, saying nothing and some how saying everything.

“Maybe we should get some rest?” you say awkwardly, breaking the eye contact. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t talk about what just happened. Not tonight. Not ever. You couldn’t let him know. You couldn’t ruin this friendship with your selfish feelings - this was the thought replaying in your mind so you didn’t relive that kiss. 

Evan bites a fingernail awkwardly before nodding. 

You quickly move back to your borrowed bed before Evan switches the light out, the darkness consuming all your unspoken words.

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m glad my first kiss, real or not, was with you” he says. 

“Me too Ev” you whisper. 

And one fact was undoubtably clear in your mind: you loved him, and it took him loving someone else for you to finally realise that. 

[jayankles]

Spread the Love - My Forever Favourite Fics

Remember when I said that I asked y’all to send in your favourite fics of your own or someone elses? 

Your Favourites

Well I think It was high time to tell you mine. I had been planning on doing this a long time ago but I hadn’t gotten around to doing it but now here I am posting this showing all my love to the most memorable stories  have read since I joined this site. So without further a do, below are at least 60 stories that I have loved and thoroughly enjoyed. All have a comment about what I liked about it and if you’re lucky you may be on there twice.

BTW it’s a very long post.

Drabbles

Familiar - @torn-and-frayed  I think about this all the time and have probably read this drabble at least three times. I would have loved for it to be turned into a full on oneshot to get the backstory of Dean and the Reader because the angst is just so enticing you can’t help but want to read more.

Oneshots

The Little Princess - @iwantthedean  Jensen has awesome ways to make it up to his daughter. And a sassy one at that too! Love me some daddy!Jensen.

Even Though - @imagineteamfreewill I don’t read a lot of Sam but I couldn’t help but giddly grin at domestic!sam.

Marry Me - @ravengirl94 *slaps hand down on table* this was the cutest shit I have ever read. It was just so fluffy I could help but read it a second and third time.

Downsized - @deanssweetheart23  I love me some toddler!Dean and I think you captured him perfectly, especially his saucy little grabby hands ;)

Always - @winchestersnco  This monster of a oneshot stands at 20k and it was worth the read. From what I can remember, it shows the journey of the relationship between Dean and the reader, following the seasons from one to twelve.

The Asshole Jock - @thegreatficmaster Nini, your fics just make me smile because your personality shines through and makes them so relatable. I love that you made this a gender neutral so every one could enjoy, definitely made me love you and Dean even more.

Sweet Relief - @winchestersnco  Everyone needs some Nurse!Sam in their life so here you go. It is 10k worth of pure and utter greatness.

Wanted - @jotink78 This cute little oneshot explores Dean and the readers daughter’s feeling about not being planned.

Lost and Found - @little-red-83  This is an angsty Gadreel story that I hope someday gets a sequel or second part because there isn’t enough Gadreel love out there, not that I am aware of anyway, but this story is based on the angels falling in season 9 and it hurts my heart so much because the reader went through changes that she didn’t think could happen.

Eyes Like That - @little-red-83 The may be my absolute favourite Gadreel oneshot ever, it shows a different side of the reader that we are all used to reading or writing. It’s filled with angst and I should be called a monster for loving it but I can’t help it It was written so perfectly that I feel sorry for Gadreel.

The Ladybug and the Cowboy - @avasmommy224 This oneshot has Dean Smith in it and has a plus size!reader. For me, that was a win-win and only fueled my love for Dean Smith.

Trials of Silence - @moonlitskinwalker I read this twice. The second time I read it was better than the first. It was just so well written about the struggle the reader went through after losing her hearing and I was glad that someone reblogged it so I could give it the recognition it deserved.

People Can Change - @kas-not-cas I related so much to this AU story because I’m that chubby nerd that is full of self doubt so I fell in love with it and read it a couple of times through tears of how incredible this whole thing was.

A Darker Shade of Love - @roxy-davenport his was just so hot. It’s a little canon divergent but that is what makes this oneshot so great. It included the struggle that MOC!Dean goes through and the transformation into Demon!Dean what makes it so great.

Hold the Line - @lipstickandwhiskey  At first I was intimidated by the word count but sucked it up and read the shit out of it and thank god I did because it was a fantastic read, I loved the build up of the relationship between Dean and the reader.

The Wish Spell - @emilywritesaboutdean I think this fic was the first that I had read from you and I automatically hit that follow button as soon as I read it. I’m glad someone reblogged it and it came on my dash, so I had the opportunity to read it and follow such a nice person.

Don’t Speak - @demondeanismybaby This oneshot hurt in the beginning because it was so relatable but Dean being the adorable fluff ball that he is saves the day again.

Those Eyes [Part 1] [Part 2]  - @demondeanismybaby The first part gave me mixed emotions; the fact that they got along so well in the beginning then it turned out to be lies. The the end of that, I almost burst into tears with how sucky Dean was. Then that second part, it was just rude I thought that Ashley would make it better but no, she made it worse and didn’t care for my fragile little heart. Thanks for that.

Where Is My Mind - @magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics This was a head fuck from the beginning and it messed me up but I loved it from start to finish.

The Kiss - @iwantthedean What can I say about this? Well, apart from the fact that I have read it about three times already, it was amazingly written with any dialogue yet you have conveyed all the words through the loophole. I adore this oneshot because it gave me my love for Dean Smith.

The Smiths - @kayteonline  I recently found your blog and this fic and I turned into a Dean Smith slut even more. I hope there’s more eventually.

Huddled - @kittenofdoomage  A/B/O wasn’t really my thing until I read this oneshot. I also admire the fact that was reader was a strong character in this and helped Dean out.

The Price You Pay - @kittenofdoomage  My heart was torn out of my chest, multiple times and put back together. The sacrifice that both Dean and the Reader made was perfect and the ending was amazing.

Cross My Heart - @deanssweetheart23 Honestly, I read this oneshot and I was all over the place. I was happy, excited, then it got to a certain part in there and my heart dropped. I was in tears before I had even finished it. But thank god I did. Because I absolutely loved it.

Dee - @percywinchester27  This cute oneshot make my heart melt. I absolutely loved the transitions in it, I adored how Dean automatically went into protector mode. And that beautiful ending just made me love you even more, Ana.

Series

Fantasy vs Reality - @avasmommy224 This Dean AU series where Dean has tattoos just melts my heart. There’s angst, fluff and it is absolutely to die for.

Unexpectedly - @winchesterenthusiast  This is another Dean AU that I love. I mean Dean is adorable and FLEETWOOD MAC! I love them! It’s so perfectly written that I can’t get it out of my head. And just so you know, Kait is also an amazing person so there’s that too.

Private Lives - @katnharper This Jensen series is fantastic, it just reels you in from the start. Each chapter just gets better and better, the deeper you delve and I can’t wait for the next part of it.

https://iwantthedean.tumblr.com/post/146472156396/angeles-master-list Nicole, this series is everything. I loved that it was based on the song Jensen covered. I loved the imagery it created and soon I will have to read it again!

Forward - @blacktithe7 This series is just ripping me apart. It explores real life struggles and it’s not just fluff that doesn’t happen all the time. It is absolutely beautiful, each and every word of it. I also love the battle between Jensen and the Reader but my little Jaybird is too cute to harm and what do you do? Hurt her! I shouldn’t have trusted you.

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - @teamfreewill-imagine This Jared, Gen, Reader series just pulls me to the Jared side but the fact that Ditto has Jensen and Danneel as adoptive parents and JJ the coolest little sister. So cute with the right amount of angst and smut.

A Little Thing Called Love - @chaos-and-the-calm67 This Jensen series has been put on hold but I remember when it first came out that it played with my emotions because one minute I loved Jensen then the other I just wanted to hurt him but then again I understood why he did what he did. I can’t wait for the next part whenever that may be.

Series Masterlist - @thing-you-do-with-that-thing So I love way too many fics from Kari so I had to link her series master list. Find the following fics because you will not be disappointed: (DEAN) When You Least Expect It, Strawberry Wine, Kill Zone, Ties That Bind, (SAM) The Blue Beach House, (JENSEN) Living With Regrets. These are literally only a few that I love each series that I read just got better and better as you read the next chapter of each story.

Girls Night - @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps  I think this series is what made me follow you. I read it and automatically hit that like, reblog and follow button. I’d love to have a friend like Jody and you wrote her so well.

Invisible - @just-another-busy-fangirl This is another amazing series, at times it was frustrating when I couldn’t figure out how the Reader would be seen again! But in the end, love conquers all.

They’re Watching - @daydreamingintheimpala This mystery series fucked me up, it was so good and had me on the edge of my seat as I read each chapter. Also, check out The Donor because it gives you all kinds of Daddy!Dean feels.

Beauty and the Beast  - @imagineteamfreewill This series is one of my absolute favourites. It’s all I can think about, and it just makes me want to watch the original and the new movie all the time as I wait for a new part to come out.

Close Every Door - @jotink78  It started with a shopping trip for a supply run and there are warnings that you have to read because it gets a little dark but Joanie tells an amazing story that captures your attention from start to finish.

The Chaos Theory - @frickfracklesackles  Serial Killer!Sam warning. It’s only the beginning but damn is it a good start to an even better story. Also check out Gasoline (Jensen Series)

Lilies and Zeppelin - @deanscolette This Punk!Dean AU took me on a roller coaster of emotions. It hurt but it was also full of love and hate.

Masterlist -> 62 Minutes - @dean-the-smol-bean Luna has put out a one of the best series I’ve read, she’s so talented and manages the slow burn and the love story between Dean and the reader. Unfortunaly there isn’t a separate masterlist so it leads to the full one – look for 62 Minutes and you will not regret it.

Fresh Start - @like-a-bag-of-potatoes This is an AU series to die for. It shows the story of the reader and Dean before they got together and it is brillant story that has been told.

I See Fire - @plaidstiel-wormstache I read this and instantly fell in love with it. I was pulled and drawn in with the reader and her secret and her special powers. It’s what made me follow you, it was so memorable.

Stroke of Luck - @percywinchester27 This series annoys me because it is so good but on the other hand the SLOW burn makes me want to just get them and smash their bloody heads together. We get the insight of Dean and the Reader’s upbringing together and the significance of the best OFC I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

Balconies - @lipstickandwhiskey This series was a great read, the seriousness of real life situations and the overall greatness of it all just makes me love it again and again everytime I read it.

Dirty Girl - @sis-tafics It’s Demon!Dean that should be enough but I just can’t leave at that because that wouldn’t be fair because the SMUT is just hot af especially with a Virgin!Reader at the beginning.

Our Little Secret - @sis-tafics this ongoing series is great one to read if you are a kinky son of a bitch but underlying all that smut is a plot that will make you love Dean, flaws and all, even more than usual.

The Good Parent - @faith-in-dean  I’m kinda upset that Franzi lost interest in this story because I was loving this rewrite, and Dad!Dean so...

Series Masterlist - @luci-in-trenchcoats  Michelle is just an amazing writer overall, I was struggling to choose only a few of them, but my favourites are; Simple Man, The Firefighter, Frat Boy, Locked In, Spend the Night and Worlds Best Dad. ← and this is just Dean. The reader is just so fantastically written. Dean is a loving and an adorable dork, who wouldn’t want that?

Wayward Daughters - @chelsea072498  I was enamored with this story from the get go. The detail of this story was just so amazing that most of the time, it’s all I can think about. The story of Dean, the reader and Alex is just so entralling that you can’t help but fall in love with it.

Celebrate Me Home - @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit IT’S 75K WORTH OF PURE AND UTTER HARD WORK. Every new chapter that Moz had put out I absolutely loved. She had captured so many different, conflicting emotions. I cried. A lot. Like a baby. But each part got better and better. The deeper you dove into the story the better you learned the characters and how they think and how they feel. And as you read it, it hits you right in the feels, like all the time. I will definitely be reading this over in the near future.

A Perfect Storm - @nichelle-my-belle This series is what made me follow Nichelle. I just loved the twists and turns at every angle. When you threw in the twist about the reader’s father and who she truly was, that freaking got me. Amazing writing.

Mr and Mrs Smith - @purgatoan I love that in the dean x reader series that both of them are hunters and have to hide it from each other and the little detail that the reader has the tattoo first and then Dean gets it and not the other way around

Where It All Began - @supernatural-jackles I have got to tell you. I fell in love with this series as soon as I laid eyes on it. I had saved it in my drafts and did nothing but read it for a week until I had caught up. Then I just sat there waiting for the next update from Jen.

Masterlist - @supernatural-jackles I also put Jen’s masterlist her because I also loved her ‘Meet My Daughter’ series and ‘Hell on Earth’ series, too, but honestly, you should just go and check it out anyway because she has written some of the most amazing fics that I have read in my life. I mean I try not to fangirl but it’s so hard.

Sexy Mutt - @larajadeschmidt13 I’m not really an OFC reader but I love this Dog!Dean x OFC. Dean, in this, is an aborable little pupper who has no clue how he ended up in a human body.

Stay - @larajadeschmidt13 This fic is another Dean x OFC but this time Dean is a professor! You wouldn’t want to miss that opportunity.

Fire and Ice - @huntingandwritingthings I think that this was the first fic that I had read from your blog, I loved that it showed real life struggles and you brought in an aspect from your own life; the reader being french, it was such a great read.

Undeniable Heat - @katymacsupernatural  I am loving this series so far, it has so many twists and turns as you read each chapter and makes you fall in love with Jensen even more.

Daddy’s Little Lovebug - @torn-and-frayed I love this series it had inspired me to write my own series of Daddy!Dean. Little JoJo make your heart melt from the beginning and just gah it’s too cute. Also check out Send the Pain Below, Fragments and With All My Heart