#which makes the ending completely fall flat for me. in the real world the british empire had the equivalent of at least 50 silver magics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zillennial97 · 4 years ago

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Friends to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Wild Love by purpledaisy | 130k | Explicit

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Like a Bullet in the Dark by Vurdoc | 99k | Explicit

Prince Harold Edward Styles Lancaster is second in line to the throne of Great Britain. He is also your average Uni student- or he tries to be, anyway.

With a promise from the press (and his father) that they'll leave him alone for four years, he sets out to be a student at Cambridge, when he meets his very normal, very working class, very handsome suite-mate, Louis Tomlinson.

Louis makes Harry feel more like a person than he ever has before, which might cause some issues later on- 'cause Harry has a secret that he's only told his sister Gemma about.

Little does he know though, that Louis has some secrets of his own.

A Will & Kate Au- with a twist.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor | 46k | Mature

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

if the sun don't shine by falsegoodnight | 36k | Explicit

Louis finds himself struck frozen, fingers stuck in place where he’s flattened them against the cold railing. It takes every bit of his remaining strength to pull them away, sliding them under his shirt and pressing them to his stomach to leech some of the warmth. He hardly pays attention to the bite of the wind and air on his shivering body. He can only pay attention to the music.

The music that is undoubtedly new to Louis’ ears, yet listening to it is the most familiar thing Louis has ever experienced. An inexplicable rush of emotions flood his mind and body, rendering him speechless and hollow. It’s a call of loneliness. It rings of everything Louis’ been feeling.

And the pure yearning - the intense longing for something and someone - tears through straight to Louis’ heart. The desperation feels all too intimate, all too real. It makes Louis think of what he yearns for more than anything. It makes him think of his soulmate.

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

From the Start by allwaswell16 | 32k | Explicit

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

In Dreams by dolce_piccante | 23k | Mature

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

You're Writing Verses About Me by Rearviewdreamer | 23k | Teen And Up Audiences

Everybody knows that Louis has never been one for serious boyfriends. His reputation around campus precedes him, which is why he doesn't think twice before proudly telling his mother about his new and completely fabricated relationship with his oddly quiet and completely

And I Will Hold On To You by darkmarkburning, staybeautiful | 23k | Mature

“I can’t believe my best friend is about to be Prime Minister of Canada,” Harry whispered in his ear, his arms tight around Louis’ shoulders. “Who decided it was a good idea to let some brash kid from Doncaster run a country?”

“I don’t know,” Louis laughed into his shoulder, “but if you promise not to tell them they’ve made a mistake I’ll give you a posh office.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Tomlinson.” Harry pulled away and smacked a kiss onto Louis’ cheek. “I’m proud of you, Lou, I can’t fucking believe it, but I’m proud of you.”

or Louis has just been elected Prime Minister of Canada and Harry is his best friend since childhood.

the way the storms blow by rbbsbb | 21k | Explicit

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor | 20k | Mature

A canon-compliant AU, in which Harry and Louis are both in the band and have been sharing flats and hotel rooms for nearly five years, but never made the leap past 'friends who are too close for comfort'.

Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own.

The Sex Methods by Alice_Novelland | 19k | Explicit

Harry and Louis explore alternative methods aka sex methods to help each other out.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

Oblivious by Speechless | 19k | Explicit

"You say it's nothing serious after you've been obsessing over it for months," Liam observes, pausing their videogame. "But now you barely talk about it-" "You guys fucking ignore me whenever I try!" Louis shouts, bumping his shoulder against Liam's and hurting himself in the process. "You're postponing sex, when it's obvious that Luke's up for it at this point." Liam ignores him. "For some reason you've left Harry in the dark about it-" "What?!" Louis snaps, banging his controller against the coffee table. "I have not!" "And no matter how blatant it is, no matter how fucking ridiculous you both get when it comes to it-" "Shut your hole." Louis urges, pinching his thigh, as soon as Harry enters the room. "Shush."

* Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke and for some reason Harry starts acting weird *

searching for a sweet surrender (but this is not the end) by feelslikehxme | 18k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, the two most loved coaches on The Voice UK known for their banter on the show and best friendship off. Louis’s determined to win and finally end Harry’s winning streak with Zayn Malik on his team, but Harry’s flirting and Liam Payne have different plans.

— Or an AU based off the Voice where Louis’s Adam, Harry’s Blake, Niall’s Shakira, Zayn and Liam have a cliche Romeo/Juliet love story and Louis’s too old for pathetic pining.

Can I bother you for a sex? by perfectdagger (sincerelyste) | 16k | Explicit

Reason #40 – Called/texted the wrong person, but he was into it anyway

“So, this isn’t really an invite for a sex, I see,” Louis spoke, not missing the chance. There was a teasing smile on his lips as he turned around to face Harry again after he had just closed the door.

Harry let out a laugh as he closed his eyes and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh for fuck's sake, Louis,” he looked back at Louis, “this will haunt me forever now, won’t it?”

Louis shrugged. “Not my fault some people manage to mistext and sext others at the same time.”

When Harry mistexts Louis, Louis realises that he wouldn't mind Harry bothering him with anything, especially not with sex.

You'll Be Home For Christmas by 2tiedships2 | 15k | Not Rated

“Honesty, Lou, just ask Harry for help.”

Louis remained silent as he continued to scowl at the Christmas calendar Niall had hung on their refrigerator.

“And be nice to my calendar filled with holiday cheer,” Niall instructed. “You’re going to burn a fucking hole in it from the way you’re glaring at the innocent thing. It’s not the calendar’s fault that your heat is starting so close to Christmas.”

You're The One That I Want by spacecakesandmilkshakes | 15k | Explicit

Harry had always been Louis' best friend and...well...his baby, until one day he realized that his baby was all grown up.

show you the stars in the daylight by bruisedhoney | 13k | Explicit

Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form. Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

when everybody wants you by nightwideopen | 11k | Mature

Harry nearly faints on the spot. He got the job. He’s going to be on Saturday Night Live.

Three of Harry's dreams come true, then one of them falls apart.

the SNL au that no one asked for

Shape of You by Only_angel_28 | 11k | Explicit

“Seriously?” Surely, Harry must be joking. Louis arches a skeptical brow and snaps the waistband of Harry’s joggers playfully. “What exactly do you have down there, Styles? I know you’ve got four nipples, d’ya have a couple extra bollocks as well or summat?”

“No!” Harry shrieks, his voice bordering on shrill. “No,” He repeats a little quieter, calmer, “I just—I’m, er, kinda…big, I guess.”

Louis rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s hardly a problem, curly.”

*Or Harry is insecure about a certain rather large part of his anatomy that is apparently intimidating to the point where it has actually scared off potential shags. When he ends up confessing this to his best friend and roommate, Louis takes it upon himself to prove that Harry’s size doesn't have to be a curse, and decides to help show him just how perfect he is.

Waiting by allwaswell16 for LadyLondonderry | 10k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

You Give Me Fever (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by my_fandom_OTPs | 10k | Explicit

Louis walks in on Harry jerking off in the shower. What happens after is just… Impulsive and spontaneous.

the value of this moment lives in metaphor by clicheanna for hattalove | 10k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis and Harry are best friends and absolutely nothing more. It’s a bit strange that, suddenly, everyone thinks they’re dating.

Or the one where they’re all teachers at a high school and students are more invested in their lives than normally expected.

trusting things beyond mistake by sarcasticfluentry | 9k | Explicit

"Is that even possible?" asks Harry.

All of them stare at him for several seconds, and then Louis says, "What, coming untouched?"

"Christ," Zayn mutters, throwing his hands up. “This fucking band, I swear.”

...or, Harry wants to see if he can come without touching his cock and ends up getting more than he bargained for.

And I Will Steady Your Hand by kiwikero | 9k | Explicit

All first year university students who had not yet presented were strongly advised to join the Fire Away meetings, a support group for so-called 'late bloomers.'

They were not, however, advised to fall in love with someone else at the meetings without knowing what they might eventually present as.

A Christmas Wish by Snowy38 | 8k | Mature

"So when are you going to tell him?"

Louis pursed his lips at his sister, his Skype video call relaying his thoughts on that subject perfectly.

"Next question," he mused.

Lottie rolled her eyes.

"It's your birthday in four days, Louis."

"What difference does that make?" He scoffed.

She shrugged.

"You can get drunk and confess how you feel and take it back afterwards if he doesn't feel the same."

That might work if Louis wasn't in love with Harry. But Lottie didn't know that and she didn't need to find out.

"Thanks Lots," he said anyway.

"Seriously Lou what's stopping you?"

Louis sighed.

"Fear mostly."

Under that Damn Mistletoe by hickeystyles | 7k | Mature

Louis' heart froze when he looked over and saw Liam whispering in Harry’s ear and nodding towards the mistletoe. Louis’ eyes widened comically before he dove out of sight so Harry couldn’t see him standing under the mistletoe like an idiot, or worse, like he was part of Liam’s plan to have Harry kiss him.

Or a Christmas Party AU where Louis is in love with his best friend Harry and everyone else is trying to force the two of them under the mistletoe together

We Could Be A Dream by Bearandleonardwrite | 7k | Explicit

“So, I’ve never seen you at one of these parties before,” Harry says as he hands Louis his drink. “Who’re you here for?”

Well, shit. Louis was definitely not expecting that. He sips on his drink to give him a few moments to think of an answer and then, “Oh, y’know. I’m dating the host’s brother. What about you?” He’s quite pleased with himself. Great answer. He takes another drink as a reward.

Harry grins at him, eyes bright, and shrugs. “Gemma’s my sister.” Louis hums around the rim of his cup waiting for him to elaborate. “She’s the host,” he tacks on, smug smile on his face. Louis chokes on his drink and tries his best to glare at Harry while he coughs. Harry rubs at his back until he can breathe properly again, which is actually really not that helpful. “Didn’t realize we were dating, Lou. I’m flattered.”

(Basically; Louis meets Harry at a party that he wasn't invited to. He ends up asking Harry to tutor him so he can keep seeing him. Featuring a bit of pining and a tea party.)

Mission Fucking Impossible by orphan_account | 7k | Mature

“Are you and Louis fucking?”

Harry nearly spits out his drink as he tries to communicate a "what the ever living fuck" to Niall with his eyes.

Niall takes another casual sip of his beer “Not like I’m the only one thinking it mate, I’m just the only one saying it out loud.”

- Harry is in love with Louis, and he is almost positive Louis is in love with him too. Naturally, Harry deals with this by trying to get Louis horny and hope for the best.

Things don't exactly work out how he plans.

One day to believe in you by mediaville | 7k | Explicit

A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it's really inconvenient.

Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. "You think about me when you get off?"

"Yes," Louis says. He wonders how hard he'd need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.

"Often?"

"Yes, Christ, Harry," Louis groans. "Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I've been visiting family. Anything else you'd like to know?"

Fake It Till We Make It by whileatwiltshire | 7k | General Audiences

#33- Keeping up with the Neighbors

“We can fake it.”

What?

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No I did not. Say it again.”

“I said” Harry started slowly, “We can fake having sex to teach them a lesson.”

It was clear to say that Louis's mouth went a little dry at the suggestion.

Or ,

Their neighbours were a bit too loud during their bedroom activities and Harry comes up with the worst plan to shut them up. Louis agrees anyways.

Web Me Harder by iwillpaintasongforlou | 6k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson, otherwise known as London's masked hero Spiderman, finds himself crashing through the window of Harry Styles one night after a particularly nasty fight with a villain. Luckily Harry is a nursing student with a soft spot for caped crusaders who's more than happy to tend to all of Louis' wounds, no matter how many times he swings by.

candy in your mouth (i know you love me) by embodied | 6k | Explicit

“You’re wrong,” Harry says, jaw clenched tight. “Because if all I wanted was a fuck, I’ve got at least three willing parties a phone call and a five minute drive away. What I want is you. I want us, I want it to be normal again -”

“What the fuck is normal?” Louis yells, much too loudly, and has to pause to consciously lower his voice before he speaks again. “Because a year ago, normal was eating too much takeaway and watching B-movies on Netflix in your room, and then normal was me choking on your cock at half past two in the morning, and I don’t know about you, but as of the past few weeks, normal is not seeing or talking to you at all, because I’ve all but admitted that I’m fucking crazy for you and you don’t know what to say to that.” Louis’ chest heaves, his breath coming out short. He hears his own throat stick when he swallows, and his voice is decidedly weaker when he asks, “So which one is it, Harry?”

AU. Things have shifted since last Christmas.

Running Through a Cloud of Steam by allwaswell16 | 5k | Mature

As Harry’s long anticipated twenty-first birthday approaches, he anxiously awaits the moment when he finally meets his soulmate. He’s not even sure he believes in soulmates, but at the very least, he hopes to prove to his best friend that nothing can come between their friendship--not even a soulmate.

You Can't Blame Me For Tryin' by lululawrence | 5k | Mature

Reason # 38 - Because He Is From One of the Countries You Haven't Had Sex With a Person From Yet.

Louis had been accepted into the study abroad program through his uni back home and therefore got to spend a year in rural Minnesota, of all places, but he wasn’t going to complain. It was still a pretty cool experience, even if it was far different from what he had been expecting. And besides, if he’d been sent to literally any other university, he’d never have met Harry.

If It's Meant To Be (It'll Be, It'll Be) by lululawrence | 4k | Not Rated

“So, anyway. I’m done here and on my way to the airport. I think I’m expected to be there in the morning, around ten. I’ll let you know when I’m getting close.”

“Sounds good.” Harry pulled back from the window and threw himself onto one of the beds. Once he got comfortable, he steeled himself and then went for it. “It’s been too long this time, Lou,” he finally whispered. He watched as Louis bit his lip and nodded slowly.

“I know,” Louis agreed, just as quiet in return. “We have to swear to never go this long without seeing each other again. Two months is just...unacceptable. I’m gonna go now, but I’ll see you soon. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah. See you. Be safe,” Harry said, far too fondly for his best friend. He couldn’t help it though. It was how he always had been and probably always would be.

They hung up and Harry threw his arm over his face.

“I am so in love with him,” he whined to himself. “Fuck.”

Satisfaction by iwillpaintasongforlou | 2k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis and Harry have known each other since before they could remember and been in love with one another for about as long, even though both steadfastly refuse to admit it. When Louis starts dating other people, it is only to help himself move on and not at all to make Harry jealous. And the sulking sort of anger Harry feels when he watches Louis kiss other people is completely irrelevant anyways.

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost #friends to lovers

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marginalgloss · 3 years ago

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I turn 35 tomorrow. How better to celebrate that than with some notes on the handful of video games I have managed to finish over the last ten months. In no particular order:

Judgment (PS4)

Something I think about often is that there aren’t many games which are set in the real world. By this I man the world in which we live today. You can travel through ancient Egypt or take a trip through the stars in the far future, but it’s relatively rare to be shown a glimpse of something familiar. Hence the unexpected popularity of the new release of Microsoft Flight Simulator, which lets you fly over a virtual representation of your front porch, as well as the Grand Canyon, and so on.

I found something like the same appeal in Judgment, a game which took me longer than anything else listed here to finish — seven or eight months, on and off. Like the Yakuza games to which it is a cousin, it’s set in Kamurocho, a fictional district of a real-world Tokyo; unlike other open-world games, it renders a space of perhaps half a square mile in intense detail. I spent a long time in this game wandering around slowly in first-person view, looking at menus and in the windows of shops and restaurants. The attention to detail is unlike everything I have ever seen, from the style of an air conditioning unit to the range of Japanese whiskies on sale in a cosy backstreet bar. And this was a thing of value at a time when the thought of going anywhere else at all, let alone abroad, seemed like it was going to be very difficult for a very long time.

It’s a game of at least three discrete parts. One of them is a fairly cold-blooded police procedural/buddy cop story: you play an ex-lawyer turned private eye investigating a series of grisly murders that, inevitably, link back to your own murky past. In another part you run around the town getting into hilarious martial arts escapades, battering lowlifes with bicycles and street furniture. In another, you can while away your hours playing meticulous mini-games that include darts, baseball, poker, Mahjong and Shogi — and that’s before we even get to the video game arcades.

All these parts are really quite fun, and if you want to focus on one to the exclusion of the others, the game is totally fine with that. The sudden tonal shifts brought about by these crazy and abrupt shifts in format are, I think, essentially unique to video games. But the scope of Judgment is a thing all its own. As a crafted spectacle of escapist fiction it’s comprehensive, and in its own way utterly definitive.

Mafia: Definitive Edition (PS4)

I was amazed when I found out they were doing a complete remake of Mafia, a game I must have finished at least three or four times in the years after its release back in 2002. Games from this era don’t often receive the same treatment as something like Resident Evil, where players might be distracted by the controls and low-poly graphics of the original.

A quality remake makes it easier for all kinds of reasons to appreciate what was going on there. (Not least because they have a lot of new games in the same series to sell.) But in the early 00s PC games like this one had started to get really big and ambitious, and had (mostly) fixed issues with controls; so there’s a hell of a lot more stuff going on in Mafia than in most games of that era. It was also a very hard game, with all kinds of eccentricities that most big titles don’t attempt today. Really I have no idea how this remake got made at all.

But I was so fond of the original I had to play it. The obvious: it looks fantastic, and the orchestral soundtrack is warm and evocative. The story is basic, but for the era it seemed epic, and it’s still an entertaining spectacle. The original game got the balance of cinematic cutscenes, driving and action right the first time, even while Rockstar were still struggling to break out of the pastiche-led GTA III and Vice City.

They have made it easier. You’re still reliant on a handful of medical boxes in each level for healing, but you get a small amount of regenerating health as well. You no longer have to struggle to keep your AI companions alive. Most of the cars are still heavy and sluggish, but I feel like they’re not quite as slow as they once were. They’ve changed some missions, and made some systems a little more comfortable — with sneaking and combat indicators and so on — but there aren’t any really significant additions.

The end result of all this is that it plays less like an awkward 3D game from 2002, and more like a standard third-person shooter from the PS3/360 era. Next to virtually any other game in a similar genre from today, it feels a bit lacking. There’s no skill tree, no XP, no levelling-up, no crafting, no side-missions, no unusual weapons or equipment, no alternative routes through the game. And often all of that stuff is tedious to the extreme in new titles, but here, you really feel the absence of anything noteworthy in the way of systems.

My options might have been more limited in 2002 but back then the shooting and driving felt unique and fun enough that I could spend endless hours just romping around in Free Ride mode. Here, it felt flat by comparison; it felt not much different to Mafia III, which I couldn’t finish because of how baggy it felt and how poorly it played, in spite of it having one of the most interesting settings of any game in recent years. But games have come a long way in twenty years.

Hypnospace Outlaw (Nintendo Switch)

If this game is basically a single joke worked until it almost snaps then it is worked extremely well.

It seems to set itself up for an obvious riff on the way in which elements of the web which used to be considered obnoxious malware (intrusive popups and so on) have since become commonplace, and sometimes indispensable, parts of the online browsing experience. But it doesn’t really do that, and I think that’s because it’s a game which ends up becoming a little too fascinated by its own lore.

The extra science fiction patina over everything is that technically this isn’t the internet but a sort of psychic metaverse delivered over via a mid-90s technology involving a direct-to-brain headset link. I don’t know that this adds very much to the game, since the early days of the internet were strange enough without actually threatening to melt the brains of its users.

(This goes back to what I said about Judgment - I sometimes wonder if it feels easier to make a game within a complete fiction like this, rather than simply placing it in the context of the nascent internet as it really was. Because this way you don’t have to worry too much about authenticity or realism; this way the game can be as outlandish as it needs to be.)

But, you know. It’s a fun conceit. A clever little world to romp around in for a while.

Horace (Nintendo Switch)

I don’t know quite where to begin with describing this. One of the oddest, most idiosyncratic games I’ve played in recent years.

As I understand it this platformer is basically the creation of two people, and took about six years to make. You start out thinking this is going to be a relatively straightforward retro run-and-jump game — and for a while, it is — but then the cutscenes start coming. And they keep coming. You do a lot of watching relative to playing in this game, but it’s forgivable because they are deeply, endearingly odd.

It’s probably one of the most British games I’ve ever played in terms of the density and quality of its cultural references. And that goes for playing as well as watching; there’s a dream sequence which plays out like Space Harrier and driving sequences that play out like Outrun. There are references to everything from 2001 to the My Dinner with Abed episode of Community. And it never leans into any of it with a ‘remember that?’ knowing nod — it’s all just happening in the background, littered like so much cultural detritus.

A lot of it feels like something that’s laser-targeted to appeal to a certain kind of gamer in their mid-40s. And, not being quite there myself, a lot of it passed me by. Horace is not especially interested in a mass appeal — it’s not interested in explaining itself, and it doesn’t care if you don’t like the sudden shifts in tone between heartfelt sincerity and straight-faced silliness. But as a work of singular creativity and ambition it’s simply a joyous riot.

Horizon: Zero Dawn (PS4)

I stopped playing this after perhaps twelve or fifteen hours. There is a lot to like about it; it still looks stunning on the PS4 Pro; Aloy is endearing; the world is beautiful to plod around. But other parts of it seem downright quaint. It isn’t really sure whether it should be a RPG or an action game. And I’m surprised I’ve never heard anyone else mention the game’s peculiar dedication to maintaining a shot/reverse shot style throughout dialogue sequences, which is never more than tedious and stagey.

The combat isn’t particularly fun. Once discovered most enemies simply become enraged and blunder towards you, in some way or another; your job is to evade them, ensnare them or otherwise trip them up, then either pummel them into submission or chip away at their armour till they become weak enough to fall. I know enemy AI hasn’t come on in leaps and bounds in recent years but it’s not enough to dress up your enemies as robot dinosaurs and then expect a player to feel impressed when they feel like the simplest kind of enrageable automata. Oh, and then you have to fight human enemies too, which feels like either an admission of failure or an insistence that a game of this scale couldn’t happen without including some level of human murder.

I don’t have a great deal more to say about it. It’s interesting to me that Death Stranding, which was built on the same Decima engine, kept the frantic and haphazard combat style from Horizon, but went to great lengths to actively discourage players from getting into fights at all. (It also fixed the other big flaw in Horizon — the flat, inflexible traversal system — and turned that into the centrepiece of the game.)

Disco Elysium (PS4)

In 2019 I played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons. I’m talking about the actual tabletop roleplaying game, not any kind of video game equivalent. For week after week a group of us from work got together and sort of figured it out, and eventually developed not one but two sprawling campaigns of the never-ending sort. We continued for a while throughout the 2020 lockdown, holding our sessions online via Roll20, but it was never quite the same. After a while, as our life circumstances changed further, it sort of just petered out.

I mention all this because Disco Elysium is quite clearly based around the concept of a computerised tabletop roleplaying game (aka CRPG). My experience of that genre is limited to the likes of Baldurs Gate, the first Pillars of Eternity and the old Fallout games, so I was expecting to have to contend with combat and inventory management. What I wasn’t expecting was to be confronted with the best novel I’ve read this year.

To clarify: I have not read many other novels this year, by my standards. But, declarations of relative quality aside, what I really mean is that this game is, clearly and self-consciously, a literary artefact above all. It is written in the style of one of those monolithic nineteenth century novels that cuts a tranche through a society, a whole world — you could show it to any novelist from at least the past hundred years and they would understand pretty well what is going on. It is also wordy in every sense of that term: there’s a lot of reading to do, and the text is prolix in the extreme.

You could argue it’s less a game than a very large and fairly sophisticated piece of interactive fiction. The most game-like aspects of it are not especially interesting. It has some of the stats and the dice-rolling from table-top roleplaying games, but this doesn’t sit comfortably with the overtly literary style elsewhere. Health and morale points mostly become meaningless when you can instantly heal at any time and easily stockpile the equivalent of health potions. And late on in the game, when you find yourself frantically changing clothes in order to increase your chances of passing some tricky dice roll, the systems behind the game start to feel somewhat disposable.

Disco Elysium is, I think, a game that is basically indifferent to its own status as a game. Nothing about it exists to complement its technological limitations, and nor is it especially interested in the type of unique possibilities that are only available in games. You couldn’t experience Quake or Civilisation or the latest FIFA in any other format; but a version of Disco Elysium could have existed on more or less any home computer in about the last thirty years. And, if we were to lose the elegant art and beautiful score, and add an incredibly capable human DM, it could certainly be played out as an old-fashioned tabletop game not a million miles from Dungeons and Dragons.

All of the above is one of the overriding thoughts I have about this game. But it doesn’t come close to explaining what it is that makes Disco Elysium great.

#gaming #judgment #horace #disco elysium #horizon zero dawn #hypnospace outlaw

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opalvscent · 4 years ago

Text

– character development.

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Ophelia Grace Weiss - Hebrew name (used in religious context only): Ayelet Nickname: Effie Birthdate: 29/09/87 Age: 33, going on 34 Zodiac: Libra sun, Sagittarius Moon, Virgo Rising Gender: Ciswoman Pronouns: she/her/hers Romantic orientation: biromantic Sexual orientation: bisexual Nationality: British Ethnicity: Ashkenazi Jewish / Afro-Bahamian Ranking: Angel Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: Amersham, Buckinhamshire, UK Hometown: Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire, UK Social Class: Upper Educational achievements: 2:1 Honours degree in Philosophy from University of Edinburgh Father: Adam Weiss Mother: Sophia Weiss (née Rosenthal) Sibling(s): None. Pets: Rosie, a 4 year old husky. (+ too many horses for me to list them here but you all knew that already) Previous relationships: Spent much of her first year at uni with some kid from Chelsea. Told him she loved him, way too quickly, and he ended up never returning her texts. Arrests: None. Did get a parking ticket once. Cried about for a solid hour. Prison time: None.

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Racehorse breeder/trainer Dream occupation: The same, but with significantly less paperwork involved. Less gang involvement would be preferable, too. Past job(s): None. She’s cut from affluent cloth and has never really had to do any real labour. Spending habits: Thinks she’s frugal, really isn’t. In debt?: On paper, no.

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: average Speed: average Intelligence: average Accuracy: average Agility: above average Stamina: above average Teamwork: As long as she’s not in a position where she has to make decisions on behalf of others, she’s fine. Talents: Horseriding, attention to detail, wallowing in self-pity at inconvenient times. Shortcomings: Completely spineless, indecisive, see above comment about self-pity. Languages spoken: English, Hebrew, some French. Drive?: Has a license, has not used it in a hot minute. Jump-start a car?: No. Change a flat tyre?: Probably, but it would take a little while. Ride a bicycle?: Yes. Swim?: Yes. Play an instrument?: Attended weekly violin lessons as a kid Play chess?: Badly Braid hair?: Yes Tie a tie?: No Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Pretty well, but is limited to a couple of staple dishes.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Zoé Kravitz Eye colour: Dark brown Hair colour: Black Hair type: 4a/4b, but has been using relaxer since her early teens. Mostly wears her hair in braids. Glasses/contacts?: Neither. Dominant hand: Left. Height: 157 cm Weight: 51 kg Build: petite Exercise habits: tries her best to practise yoga every week, but it usually falls through. jogs every morning as an emotional outlet (it’s way more socially acceptable than just full-on screaming at 6am) Skin tone: Type IV Tattoos: A daisy on the inside of her lower arm, in a tribute to her first childhood horse Piercings: Two in each lobe, tragus in her left ear Marks/scars: Freckles. A scar on her right elbow from falling off a fence as a child, two under her right knee from getting thrown off a horse Clothing style: The type to value function over form. Tends to favour classic silhouettes and colours. In other words, she’s boring. Does like a good printed coat though. Jewellery: a small, gold magen david pendant that was gifted to her by her grandmother. it never comes off. a wristwatch. Allergies: milk, penicillin Diet: plant-based, tries to keep kosher

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: INFP-T, the mediator. Enneagram type: Nine - the peacemaker ( subtype 9w1 - the dreamer ) Moral Alignment: Lawful good Temperament: Sanguine/Melancholic Element: Earth Emotional stability: Maintains composure in public, not quite as good in private. Easily overwhelmed. Prone to overthinking. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert. If given the option, she’d much rather enjoy her own company. Obsession: Safety, security, stability. Phobias: Death, loneliness, the dark. Drug use: None. Unless you’re counting hayfever medication, which I don’t think anyone is. Alcohol use: Social drinker. Prone to violence?: Nah. Prone to crying?: Yes. Believe in love at first sight?: Yes.

MANNERISMS.

Accent: Received pronounciation (voiceclaim). Hobbies: Horseriding, reading, crocheting, overthinking Habits: Bites the inside of her cheek Nervous ticks: Fidgets, has a hard time maintaining eyecontact Drives/motivations: Security, stability and for the needs of those she loves to be met. Subconsciously, she thrives off validation from others. Fears: Not being able to provide for those she loves. Sense of humour?: Laughs more than she makes others laugh. Do they curse often?: Every once in a while, mostly while under distress.

FAVOURITES.

Animal: 🐎 Horses. Who’s surprised? Not me. Beverage: Alcoholic? Red wine. DRC or other burgundies in particular. Non-alcoholic? Fizzy water. Book: ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen, ‘What We Talk About When We Talk About Love’ by Raymond Carver Colour: Yellow Food: Any type of soup Flower: Daisies, tulips, peace lilies Gem: Amethyst Mode of transportation: Horseback if the distance allows it, car if not. Scent: Freshly cut grass, ‘love - don’t be shy’ by killian, rosemary Sport: ..... do I need to say it? Weather: Overcast Vacation destination: Cap d’Ail, France.

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: financial independence, being able to do what she loves for a living without having to worry about the bottom line. probably wants world peace too. Greatest fear: failing those she loves Most at ease when: in the stables or in complete solitude Least as ease when: in cities or big crowds, doing illegal shit, basically anything she’s done while working for famine. Biggest achievement: has a silver medal from the 2011 london international horse show Biggest regret: agreeing to her current ... circumstances

#– character development.#– tasks.#do u ever look at something for so long that it becomes ... word soup #flashing lights tw #just in case !

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aphspain-pure · 4 years ago

Text

Back to de past, right to the future [Chap. I]

Category: Fanfic.

Pair: EngSpa, UkSpa.

Words: 2.611.

Genre(s): drama, historical, yaoi.

Abstract: England feels some magical disturbance in the air that morning. How could he have imagined that it was caused by his own self, but some centuries ago.

Pirate England suddendly appears in the Modern Era.

________________

When he opened his eyes, England could not focus well.

It was dark and cold, but the tremendous and familiar humidity of his cabin or any of the parts of his ship was not noticeable. Nor could he feel the typical rocking of the waves of the high seas, so he deduced that, God knows why, he was not in his boat.

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick look around him in dismay. He was in complete darkness but, thanks to the patch over his left eye, he was quickly able to get used to the lack of light. Only then he did recognize the place.

This was his magic room, where since Viking occupation times he had conjured his spells and his miracles. It was cloudy, dark and penetrating as always. There was nothing out of place except for him, who couldn't bring himself to remember how in the hell he had gotten there. He did not remember even having arrived at port, even having approached Great Britain. The last thing he remembered was being on his ship, somewhere between the Caribbean and the West Indies, and he couldn't figure out how or when he ended up there.

Grunting in disagreement, with a hangover of a thousand horrors, he decided to leave the questions unanswered for later and get up, dusting himself off, ready to go out and yell at the first servant who crossed his path. He didn't know what was going on but he didn't care, at least he wouldn't think about it until he'd had his first shot of whiskey or rum and kicked a couple of arse.

Or so he thought, unhinged, until he opened his special room’s door and took a look outside.

- What the bloody hell?

____________________________

In another part of London, England watched the energy in the air with a puzzled countenance, noticing slight arrhythmic disturbances in the wind while enjoying his famous breakfast tea. He was in a cozy old café from his Victorian era that still stood to this day and which England cherished with pure English love and courtesy. He had decided to have breakfast there, early, to arrive with plenty of time for the world conference that day. That was why he had left the house exceptionally early, even if he usually preferred to get up at a moderate hour and take it easy on homely mornings.

He sighed. He had once been a man of action.

Maybe America was right when he accused him of being a boring old curmudgeon.

He calmly finished his cup of tea, retrieved his coat from the courteous waiter who had stripped him of it earlier –a practice which, now almost extinct in modern times, England greatly appreciated-, thanked him and left. The day was cloudy and threateningly rainy in London, as usual.

Thus, once outside, he felt again that feeling of unease that had been attacking him for some time. A spiritual unrest, as if something bad was about to happen. Deciding not to become paranoid, he called his chauffeur to take him to the boardroom right in the center of Westminster.

__________________________

He arrived early, and the only other nations besides himself already there were Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Japan. The rest would still be in their respective hotels or even, if they had decided to fly from their countries that morning, on the plane or the airport. As far as he knew, France used to prefer the latter option when meetings were held at his place, preferring to spend as little time as possible on British soil. And England could not say that it did not understand or disapprove of it; moreover, he would resort to the same when the situation was the opposite.

He walked over, respectfully greeted the three blonde nations, and calmly placed himself next to Japan. His transoceanic friend gave him a slight bow of the head. - Ohayo gosaimasu, Igirisu-san. How has the sun risen today? –he commented, in an appropriate and neutral tone.

England appreciated the chivalricism. – It isn’t being one of my best days, but I cannot complain. Anyway, good morning to you too, Japan. –And the Japanese gave him a small and short smile.

After that all went silent, and the only thing that was heard for a few minutes was the chalk of Germany hitting the blackboard as he wrote down the important points of the day. Everyone knew that the meeting would probably end as usual, with nothing clear, with the United States laughing and claiming to be a hero every few seconds, the odd country asleep, hysterical discussions between itself and France and Russia trying to make people become one with him, but Germany still insisted on trying to create a serious atmosphere. Internally, England admired and appreciated his dedication, even if it didn't get real results in the end.

Eventually the rest of the countries began to arrive one by one. The feeling of discomfort and that something was wrong did not leave the guts of the host country, anyway.

There was something strange, even dangerous, floating in the atmosphere. His sharp, mint green eyes scanned every corner trying to find the source of the discomfort, unable to find anything. He had a pleasant conversation with Luxembourg when he arrived and later he chatted with Portugal a bit, all automatically while he went over everything. Each time the air was tighter from a supernatural point of view, as if the Disaster itself was drawing closer and closer.

It wasn't until Norway appeared in his field of vision that England paid any real attention to something.

Usually they would do nothing but greet each other from afar with a minimal movement of the head. But if Norway had stood there, in front of him, it definitely meant something.

Getting to the point, the Nordic inquired. - What the hell is happening here? –With his frankness and usual calm voice.

England, sighing, crossed his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

- It's been bothering me since this morning. I don't know what the hell it can be, but it's downright disturbing. It is… like a powerful presence but at the same time cloudy. And the strangest thing of all is that it looks strangely familiar to me.

- Yeah… -the other man agreed-. It's ... certainly familiar in some way. –Then he looked around-. And every time it seems to increase that energy. You haven't used magic again while drunk, have you? –And for a moment, England looked offended. At least before recalling the hundreds of times it had actually happened, after which he quietly apologized.

Trying to hide that he was somewhat ashamed of himself, he cleared his throat and muttered that he didn't remember conjuring anything lately. That definitely upset the Norwegian's stern gesture a bit.

- So this doesn't make sense.

A moment later the Italian brothers entered and Germany called the session off. He and Norway were forced to separate, but not before sending each other glances of beware of anything and nodding in agreement.

But in these, just as Germany was about to start with the first point of the day, the main gate that led to the huge boardroom was thrown open.

And the most incredible thing happened.

- What the hell is going on here by gad!? –The sordid growl of the new presence broke in. They all immediately turned to look there and, simply petrified, England stood up, shocked, knocking the chair over.

In front of them stood an astonishing 17th century pirate captain, dressed in his grandiose red coat, his worn flat boots, his jeweled saber, his open ruffled shirt, the typical gold ear rings, the eye patch in the eye and the so characteristic captain's hat. His voice had been sordid and commanding and his eyes exuded the amusement and danger of a true saltwater buccaneer. Someone who, at least the European countries and some former colonies, recognized immediately. He licked his lips leisurely as he began to draw his sword.

- You're already singing if you don't want to die, you louts! What does this all mean? –And pointed the sword towards the large table full of perplexed countries.

The attention fell entirely on him, in a frozen moment of time, until someone else claimed it.

- What the bloody hell are you doing here!?

Then the newcomer pirate's eyes lifted until, surprised and interested, they rested on the emitter. He looked directly at England, dressed and mature, with an uneasy and confused smile. - I should ask you the same. What is this all supposed to be? –taking great strides and dangerously dancing his saber with that deranged look of his-. You better start spitting it all out if you don't want to taste my steel, you fucking bastard.

And England, still not fully recovered from his shock, tried to articulate something to calm the hotheaded just as the door opened a second time. This time, timidly and slowly.

- Eh… Hello? I'm sorry I'm late again, I've fallen asleep again haha… -from a newcomer Spain who nervously rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed gesture.

This intrusion impressively attracted the pirate’s attention.

- You... –he blurted out, lifting the eyepatch to see perfectly with both eyes, as a wolfish grin stretched the corners of his lips and he screamed in exaltation-. On guard, you bastard!

And before Spain could even react, the subject came forward like a veritable bloodthirsty beast towards him. The ancient empire, instinctively, placed his body on guard against the imminent attack, which he would have been about to receive if it had not been for the sudden cry that devastated the room:

- SLEEP!

And the body of the said pirate man fell inert to the ground. England had conjured something to make him abruptly fall asleep. The boardroom was suddenly silent.

England and Spain looked at each other in shock.

- ...What the hell?

_____________________

When pirate England emerged from the dark abyss of unconsciousness again, it appeared to be back at its home outside London. He blinked a few times as he growled and groaned at the post-spell pain in his tormented mind. He cursed the other England, the one from the future who had had such a naughty face, and tried to regain control of his body.

It was then that he was known prisoned. His arms were tied with a thick, scratchy rope to the back of the chair he was sitting on. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, really not very impressed, and later turned his gaze straight ahead.

The familiar face of his presumed captor managed to get an idle, amused smile from his lips.

- Scared that I might bite you, darling?

Which was quickly answered by a. – Dare to even suggest such a thing and I will hang you before you can take a step. –Which brought an even bigger smile and a greater sparkle in the other's eye.

There, sitting on the sofa, Spain was holding a rare article of paper with many hyper-realistic letters and images that he seemed to be reading carefully. But England knew better. He knew as the best what face this handsome jerk made when he was really focused, and the one he made when he tried to fake it. Catching Spain in the middle of that picaresque action seemed as charming as it was amusing, and he could not but fall into the temptation to frustrate him in his attempt.

- I do not know anything about the future, but just by seeing those whore's clothes that you bring, I think I would not mind being in your humble care a little more.

A vein was marked in Spain’s forehead who, honestly, had been years, decades…! With no real dislike for England. An insincere and tight smile showed his vain attempt at impassiveness. –This I am wearing is a simple "shirt", the type of garment that is worn today for formal meetings.

- Well, what a scandal, how immoral! With that tight-fitting blouse, I could see your nipples from nautical miles away. –To which, with a new vein marked, Spain jumped just at the time that contemporary England entered the room.

He carried with him a small silver tray with two porcelain mugs of Earl Grey and a few small butter cakes. His entrance surprised the other two. Immediately, however, Spain pointed at the captive and yelled at the newcomer. – Tell this uneducated you that neither my shirt is obscene nor am I a whore, now!

That sudden demand caught England off guard, whose first thought was to look directly at the named shirt, seeing, therefore, how the white fabric hugged and made the tanned skin transparent. He swallowed hard for a moment, which his other self took advantage of to act funny.

- From the familiar treatment that you two maintain I deduce that, very and at the same time not so much to my regret, in the future the Spanish Empire and I have that kind of intimate relationship. –Whistling at the sudden sight of a red and indignant England and an angry Spain-. In the bull’s eye, isn't it?

Making that this time, yes, Spain was so frustrated that he ended up pouncing on him.

The action awakened the green in the captive's eyes, amused to the core that he had finally made the future version of his rival lose his temper. Spain fell on him, a pair of strong hands and –although not as calloused as he himself remembered- still rough from the work in the fields surrounding his neck with accumulated resentment.

He held back a smile.

- Ahh... I see that you are both quite rusted …

And, shocking Spain (who had still been trying to hang him), he broke free from his moorings and abruptly swapped positions.

England, from outside, watched in shock and without being able to speak as, in front of his eyes, his former self turned the tables and placed himself with the force of a beast above his current EU partner. Spain had fallen backwards and his hands had been forcibly captured on his head; he writhed like a sardine as he looked badly and –almost- growled at the one who just two seconds ago had been tied to a chair. Immobilizing his body, the pirate had mounted on him, leaving him unable to actuate any movement.

Looking indiscreet and almost with little concealed grimace, England glanced in the direction of present-day Britain. - Even a bastard child who has not seen more boobs in his life than his mother's would have loosened a knot that simple. –He growled, nodding at the untied rope lying on the ground. Making disgust, this time he directed his words to Spain under his grip-. Are you grossly underestimating me or are you so old that you have forgotten what you were capable of in the past...?

The three pairs of green eyes maintained that tense look for a few long seconds in which, little by little, the pirate began to change that tension for a deeper emotion.

Darker and more penetrating eyes as they went down through the other's tanned build. – Although I have to admit that this body is not that of an old man, no sir ... –taking the liberty of passing a hand from Spain’s chin to his tanned chest-. It's been a while since I saw this sinful skin so closely, I presume since 1588 …

And Spain’s eyes expanded in shock, while modern England’s nearly shook in bewilderment.

The apparition of Pirate Era England had opened something that had been buried centuries ago.

#hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #engspa #ukspa #spuk #aph spain #aph england #aph norway #pirate england #sorry this was kinda better in my mother tongue

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sol1056 · 5 years ago

Text

wuxia/xianxia: a loose and somewhat second-hand introduction to the genre, pt1

Sorry for the unconventional q, but i keep seeing Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation everywhere and I kinda want to get into it but a) don't know where to start (web series? live action adaptation?? wait how many are there!) and b) i don't really "get" wuxia / xianxia, that sorta stuff, i find it really hard to cross that cultural barrier and chinese mentality seems very alien. (it's not that i have no experience w different mentalities but chinese in particular is v hard to grasp w/o sources).

So if you have the time and patience, I'd love to hear a summary of it (like, a coherent summary bc all i get on the wikis is a shower of names and concepts that don't make sense to me) and perhaps some "intro for dummies" abt the relevant parts of chinese history and mentality tied to it? not just the cultivation / buddhist part but also re: familial relationships, philosophy and all that. (v brief and low effort of course) Thank you and sorry for bothering you!

("brief and low effort" referring to what I'm asking from you, not to what I need for me - as in i asked for it so i'm more than ready for a complicated essay, but you can write with as much detail as you like, I don't want to ask for some sort of comprehensive tome)

Okay first, you do realize that if you want “brief and low” for anything, you’re asking the wrong person? I was a philosophy major. brief got drilled out of me a long time ago.

Second... well, explaining what makes The Untamed / Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (mdzs for short, from the chinese title, Mo Dao Zu Shi) such a standout story does require understanding some of the wuxia conventions it subverts -- as well as some that it plays straight (so to speak) very, very well.

I figure the best approach (again, sadly not brief) is to first get a handle on the genre of wuxia. Gonna break this post into two, so you’re not reading in a single three-hour stretch or something. I’ll do a follow-up about mdzs, to hopefully make it a bit more accessible for you.

before I do that, let me first say: I didn’t grow up with this genre, so there’s going to be parts that I may miscast unintentionally. for an insider’s view, my go-to voices are @guzhuangheaven, @atthewaterside, @dramatic-gwynne, @the50-person and @drunkensword. if any of them are reading this and can point to more/other/better voices, please do.

I have three analogies -- like cultural doorways -- and like all analogies, they break down when you get into the finer details. In the broad strokes, though, they mostly work, and if nothing else, hopefully they’ll demonstrate that wuxia may be a chinese-specific version, but part of a storytelling tradition that’s nearly universal.

The three doorways are: the american wild west, the samurai era, and the british arthurian romances. And, in a tangential way, the regency period in the romance genre.

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

The term ‘wuxia’ can be translated several ways, but I prefer ‘martial chivalry’. Most wuxia takes place in the jianghu, a harder term to unpack. Generally, though, ‘the jianghu’ has connotations not all that different from what americans mean when they reference the wild west.

More of a concept than a physical place, the jianghu (like the ‘wild’ west) exists beyond the reach of the law and/or civilization. It’s occupied by a diverse cast of farmers, merchants, beggars, and so on, but also by outlaws, gangs, hermits, pretty much all those who don’t like the suffocating nature of the civilized world, for whatever reason. It’s not a lawless place (except to outsiders); it does have laws, but those are only unto itself.

So, jianghu is a world to itself, for the most part -- which also makes it kind of timeless. Tang dynasty, Song dynasty, Ming dynasty, it could be any of them and all of them and none of them. Just as the heyday of the cowboys and the cattle drives was barely a decade long, a culture’s romanticized history stretches into lifetimes that exist separate from any date you could pin down on a calendar.

The average wuxia protagonist would fit in reasonably well as knight errants in an arthurian romance, with one important detail in difference: they’re rarely aristocrats. Wuxia protagonists are just as likely (if not more so) to be lower-born, whether the child of farmers, or servants, some common caste.

This is where wuxia diverges from the british and japanese traditions, which have a bit more noblesse oblige going on (knights and samurai both being upper-class types). Even ‘aristocratic’ characters tend to be so only within the jianghu -- sort of like the way a territory’s elected leader in the wild west would’ve had no pull in Washington, given they weren’t from a fully-recognized state.

Wuxia does often have politics, between competing sects (think schools of learning), but that political infighting is independent of the capital’s rules or wishes. A lot of stories -- in the rare cases the topic even comes up -- tends to speak of ‘the capital’ in disparaging terms.

That’s not to say wuxia is all about the flat social systems (it’s definitely not), but most commonly a rank implies some level of competence/study. The title of sect leader isn’t granted, it's earned. Children inherit, but it’s also a common storyline to have an heir with no skills (who then goes through all the trials and tribulations to finally level up and earn that position in turn).

What makes wuxia hard to grasp is its vernacular: the conventions that form the backbone that make something recognizably ‘wuxia’ and not just ‘historical drama set on a frontier in a loosely-defined time period’.

Frex: in a Wild West story, convention is two gunfighters at opposite ends of the street, and at least one of them is wearing a holster tied to his leg with string in a way that no real gunfighter wore, ever, but Hollywood came up with the idea and now it’s a permanent part of our imagination. In the arthurian romances, convention is carrying the token of one’s lady love (a distant, untouchable figure who rarely appears on-page), or meeting the unnamed knight in black on the jousting field. Convention are the samurai who’ll die for their lord’s honor, always touchy and prickly at the first sign of disrespect.

These are things granted the most remarkable gravity, that to an outsider might seem ridiculous. (Why is there always tumbleweed?)

Now, wuxia is the latest evolution in a long-lived literary tradition (and by ‘long’ I mean like 2000+ years) -- but like any living tradition, each subsequent generation reinvents it for their time. Part of that reinvention comes from particularly influential writers, who put their own spin on things, and their interpretation becomes the next generation’s standard for the genre -- “of course wuxia must have X” or “a protagonist never does Y”. (Like how Tolkien almost single-handedly changed western concepts of elves, in fiction.)

And here’s where I explain what regency romance has to do with it. Another short-lived period, in real history, but along came Georgette Heyer, who took bits and pieces of actual research, blended them with her reactionary politics, exaggerating some things and ignoring other things completely. The result is a time-that-never-was, but she cast (and still casts) a shadow so vast that I’ve seen multiple romance writers complain that readers will see a footnoted-and-researched version as wrong, if it contradicts one of Heyer’s made-up conventions.

Modern wuxia has its own Heyer-sized influencers -- like Jin Yong (the Condor trilogy, Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils), Wen Rui'an (The Four), Gu Long (The Legend of Flying Daggers, The Proud Twins), to name a few of the biggest. If you have a chance or are inclined, the big names get remade on a pretty regular basis, and catching one will at least let you see some ur-tropes in action.

But it also means that you can’t really extrapolate, in the sense of saying, “in wuxia, people do X, ergo, X is also a factor in Chinese culture.” It’s like... take any western made in the 50s, and the vernacular is simple. The bad guys wear black hats, the good guys wear white hats, the prostitutes wear bright-colored dresses with frills and the good women wear subdued colors buttoned up to their neck. It told an audience exactly what character filled what role, but that’d tell you zero about real people you might meet in Nebraska or Utah, let alone New York City.

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

Almost forgot: xianxia is basically wuxia but with ‘immortal heroes’ -- so there’s gods, divine influences, non-human beings as characters (main or NPC), etc. (Btw, by ‘immortal’ I mean exactly that, like this character is six hundred years old, that one’s a thousand years old, etc.) You can think of xianxia as wuxia, but amped way up on the mystical scale.

Xianxia will sometimes take place on earth (jianghu) but sometimes in the celestial realm (heaven). Or a mix of both, like stories where a character falls (or is banished, or defects) from heaven and has to go through various trials and tribulations as a mortal human in order to regain a power, rise in rank, fall in love, or whatever their goal is.

A number of wuxia stories are driven by some sort of mcguffin, but in xianxia, the mcguffin is more likely to be a powerful spiritual weapon. But I can also think of a number of wuxia in which the mcguffin would fit right in, in xianxia (some near-mystical thing with significant positive, or negative, power independent of the wielder, which often amplifies or boosts the wielder to an inhuman degree, etc).

Thing is, the mcguffin being divine/infernal supernatural isn’t enough alone to make the story xianxia. I’m pretty sure you need non-human or super-human immortals and/or creatures to be considered in the xianxia genre.

part two

#wuxia #come for the brief essay stay for the dissertation #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs

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flowerfan2 · 5 years ago

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Private Time

I’ve been reading and writing (and living with) so much angst lately, I decided to indulge in some silly, sexy funtimes with a fandom I haven’t visited in a while. Enjoy.

Klaine, 2k, A03.

Summary: Living with his grad student roommates in quarantine, private time is hard to come by...

Blaine is generally very happy living in the somewhat rickety four-bedroom house he shares with three other grad students. It’s not too far from school, it’s got a workable washer and dryer in the basement, and the kitchen was renovated sometime in the past twenty years so it’s perfectly adequate for making whatever quick meals he manages to scrounge together after class.

But boy, are the walls thin.

This hasn’t been a problem until recently, when COVID-19 struck. School has gone online, but unlike the undergrads, Blaine and his roommates have a lease and all of them decided to endure the quarantine here in Somerville, Massachusetts rather than go home. According to Kurt, Somerville may not be where he wants to end up, but it’s far better than the Midwest town he grew up in and he has no desire to weather the quarantine back in Lima.

Thanks to the quarantine, Blaine has learned this and many more facts about his flatmates – and yes, they have all taken to calling it a flat, after an evening which started out with teasing Sam about how he likes to talk with a fake British accent turned into one of the most carefree nights Blaine has had in a long time. Apparently all it took was a few bottles of cheap wine and a defrosted cheesecake from Star Market to loosen them all up.

“We’re proper mates, now,” Sam had announced, waving his arms and nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. By the time they had all wandered off to bed, Blaine had learned that Kurt’s favorite singer was Lady Gaga, that Rachel had taken a year off from school to film a television pilot, and that Sam played the guitar rather well, as long as it was country music.

Blaine has liked Sam since they met playing intramural soccer in the fall. So when Sam mentioned last month that they had a spare bedroom, Blaine quickly took him up on the offer. Blaine’s previous apartment was lonely and smelled like something had died in the ceiling, so it was really a no brainer.

What had caught Blaine by wonderful, wonderful surprise, however, was that Kurt Hummel was one of Sam’s roommates. Blaine had seen Kurt perform in a production of Macbeth back in October, and had been mesmerized by the man’s performance. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Kurt was a regular grad student just like he was, not until Sam gave him the tour of the house and Kurt waved to him from the kitchen where he was gossiping with Rachel over skinny margaritas.

With just a smile and a nod and an agreement to take his turn putting out the trash, Blaine gained three roommates, including the guy he had been crushing on for months. Not bad for a Wednesday.

Much to Blaine’s dismay, simply moving into the house didn’t result in any quality time with Kurt. Between school and performances Kurt was hardly ever home, and Blaine’s schedule studying history and music theory was hardly better. Since the stay at home order was put in place, however, it’s a whole new world. Now the four of them can hardly get away from each other.

For the first two weeks of their enforced togetherness, everyone was on their best behavior, and the drama of it all gave them a shared sense of adventure. Kurt sewed them all homemade masks, Blaine carefully organized grocery trips to minimize time in the stores, Sam tried to get them to adopt home fitness routines, and Rachel kept them apprised of the most interesting celebrity bits to watch on You Tube.

But they are entering into week three of the quarantine, and the novelty is wearing off. For one thing, Rachel has been getting more and more demanding about household details (she is constantly editing the chore wheel and claiming someone else did it), and while Kurt generally has acted as peacemaker when confronted with Rachel’s whims, even he seems to be getting tired of it. Sam hasn’t done his laundry at all since they got locked in, and Blaine is running out of hair gel. Kurt has taken to cleaning the fridge so often that Rachel accused him of stealing cleaning supplies and rubber gloves from health care workers.

They are all becoming short-tempered and irritable. Blaine even catches himself snapping at Kurt, which is the last thing he wants to do. He’s worried that by the time the quarantine lifts, Kurt will never want to speak to him again, let alone date him.

Blaine has a few tried and true strategies for when he gets like this, but none of them are working. Sam insists on running with him every time he goes out, and his well intentioned chatter prevents Blaine from finding any escape. He can’t let off steam by boxing, because his gym is closed. And as for the things he really knows would do the trick, especially after an afternoon of watching Kurt do ballet stretches in yoga pants, well… the walls of their apartment are very, very thin.

Blaine knows this because Sam apparently feels no shame in indulging in his own solo activities. It’s easy to hear him, even from across the hall. Given that Blaine’s bedroom shares a wall with Kurt’s, there’s no way Blaine’s going to risk Kurt hearing anything of the sort from Blaine’s room.

Towards the end of the third week, Rachel calls a roommate meeting. Blaine has just finished an endless zoom call with his research supervisor, and he feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his head if he doesn’t get his contacts out soon. But Rachel insists, so they all gather in the sitting room, Sam and Blaine on the lumpy brown couch, and Kurt sitting on the edge of an armchair, looking to Blaine like he could be posing in a fashion magazine.

“Thank you for coming,” Rachel begins, as if they had any real choice in the matter. She launches into an overview of their past few roommate meetings, and brings up an excel spreadsheet on her computer, on which she has apparently made further edits to the chore wheel.

Blaine tries not to be distracted by the way the asymmetrical neckline of Kurt’s cashmere sweater drapes over his collarbone when he leans forward to look at Rachel’s chart.

“So I decided on Saturdays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” Rachel says, looking around the room for approval. Blaine realizes he has lost the plot completely, but luckily he’s not the only one.

“Wait, what?” Sam asks. Kurt has found a nail file somewhere and isn’t paying much attention either, but his mouth quirks up at little at Sam’s question, so he’s probably glad Sam is taking the blame for this one too.

Rachel lets out a long suffering sigh, and places an Amazon box on the table. “As I said, I haven’t been able to use the practice rooms for weeks now, and my vocal production is suffering. I need to be able to focus properly on allowing my voice to soar over my accompaniment at its expected volume, without having to censor myself.”

Sam still looks confused, and Rachel glares at him. “I need to listen to loud music, and sing loudly, ok? So I got these for all of us.”

Sam frowns. “I don’t mind if you sing, Rach.”

Rachel’s hands clench at her sides. “It’s not about you, it’s about me.” Kurt coughs not indiscreetly into his hand, but Blaine doesn’t quite catch what he says. “I need you all to wear these, for an hour, three times a week. I’ve clearly marked this as private time on our schedule, from 11 to midnight, Saturdays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.”

“But what if-“

“Sam, let it go,” Kurt says. “We’re all missing <I>private time</I> these days.” Kurt stands up and smooths his hands down his skin tight jeans. “It’s fine with me, Rachel.”

Blaine stands up too, and peers into the box, then takes out a set of headphones. They are high end noise-cancelling models, clearly expensive, and probably quite effective. “These are great, Rachel. Thanks. But you didn’t have to do this. I’m sure we could have worked something out so you could practice.”

Rachel glares at him now too, and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I <i>have</i> worked it out.

Private time commences at eleven o’clock on each designated night. I expect you all to go to your rooms, and wear the headsets. It’s the least we can do to help preserve our collective mental health during this trying time. Do I have your agreement?”

They all agree, and Rachel smirks, satisfied. Blaine chalks it up to roommate harmony and sets about seeing what he can make for dinner out of tortillas, one cucumber, and three apples (answer: nothing, they eat frozen pizza).

Later that evening, he and Sam are on the couch trying to find something to watch on Netflix. Suddenly Sam leans over and slaps Blaine on the shoulder.

“Ow, Sam, what was that for?”

“I know why Rachel got the headphones for us,” Sam announces, grinning crazily, “It’s so she can have a wank!”

Blaine attributes Sam’s ongoing affinity for British slang to the amount of Sherlock fanfic he’s been reading lately, but now really isn’t the time to get into it.

He reflexively starts to deny it, but then he realizes with a flush of embarrassment that Sam is probably right. Sam watches his face and his grin gets even bigger.

“She’s kind of a genius, isn’t she?” Sam grabs a set of headphones and bounds away up the stairs.

“Sam,” Blaine calls out, wanting to remind him that it’s Monday, and therefore no private time is scheduled. Not that it’s stopped Sam before.

The next night Rachel reminds them all after dinner that private time will begin precisely at eleven o’clock. After a group viewing of the first episode of Deadwater Fell (during which Blaine divided his attention between watching David Tennant, watching Kurt, and watching Kurt watch David Tennant), Rachel checks the time on her phone and orders them all upstairs. At five minutes to eleven, she screams “put your headphones on,” and slams the door to her bedroom.

Blaine thinks this is all fairly ridiculous, but he puts on the headphones anyway, and settles on his bed with his laptop. He surfs around for a while, finding clips of some noteworthy Shakespeare productions (okay, fine, it’s Benedict Cumberbatch playing Hamlet), but then his mind starts to wander. Being cooped up with his roommates has been… constraining… for him too, and maybe he should go ahead and take advantage of the private time Rachel has arranged for them.

Blaine makes himself more comfortable and slides a hand down his body, wondering if his roommates are doing the same. Wondering, especially, if Kurt is doing the same. He unzips his fly and takes himself in hand, letting out a long sigh at the sensation – and then freezing when he hears himself. Blaine quickly realizes that as he got comfortable on the bed, the headphones had slipped off his ears.

And if he can hear himself, what if Kurt can hear him too?

Any interest in solo activities leaves him in a flash, and Blaine quickly zips himself up and plants his feet on the floor. He makes sure the headphones are properly situated on his ears, and spends the remaining twenty minutes of private time organizing his sock drawer.

The next morning his roommates seem downright cheery, and Blaine starts to regret his nerves. It would have been nice to get a little relief from the stress of quarantine, even at the risk of potential embarrassment. Maybe he just needs to be quieter, next time.

Thursday night Blaine fluffs his pillows and arranges himself on the bed face down, so that any noise he makes will be muffled. This turns out to be a brilliant idea, and he has quite a good time imagining that Kurt is underneath him, writhing and squirming and rutting against him, all long lines and warm skin. It’s not a pillow stifling his cries, it’s Kurt’s wet mouth…

When Blaine finally comes to, he feels a little guilty, but he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks. Maybe he’ll get through this quarantine after all.

#klaine #klaine fic #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #glee #quarantine fic

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Bombshell [B. Barnes] - 2

Pairing: British SHIELD Agent!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, (legal) alcohol consumption, explosions, memory loss, mentions of past trauma, mentions of death

Work Count: 5.8K

See end for Author’s Notes.

Masterlist Previous Part

___

"Agent Y/L/N, what's your status?" the concerned voice crackled over the coms. "Y/L/N check in."

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you took out a guard.

"Jesus Rogers, we split up less than two minutes ago. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for being concerned," Steve muttered sarcastically under his breath, the coms barely picked it up and you bit back a laugh, trying to remain stealthy.

You peaked your head around the corner, peering into the large room before you to ensure that it was empty. Once you were sure it was clear, you made your way around what appeared to be a storage room, checking for any objects of importance or secret passageways. As you cleared each wall, you made sure to slap a small disk to each one.

"Y/N, we're at the quinjet, what's your status?" Natasha came over the coms.

"Just finishing up down here Nat," you replied lightly, making your way back to the stairs, slapping a few more disks in the hallway for good measure. "Who's 'we'?"

"Steve and me."

You sighed, equal parts worried and relieved. "Wilson, what's your position?"

"Couple Nazis on the roof, I've got it covered," Sam responded with a grunt.

"Take them out quickly, please," you ordered, holding your position on the stairs. "I'm activating the bombs and we'll only have a couple of minutes to get out of here."

"Yes ma'am," Sam answered, and you almost thought you could hear him mock salute you, "Will you have enough time?"

"What do you take me for?" You gasped, offended, "an amateur?"

Sam barked out a laugh and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"Nazis down." He announced over the coms. "Commence explosions."

"With pleasure," you smirked, pressing the button on the activator. "T-minus five minutes to detonation." You announced, running up the stairs. "Nat?"

"We're in position." The redhead affirmed over coms and you ran harder, making sure to press the button on each floor to activate the bombs you had placed on your way to the basement.

You had about two minutes to spare by the time you reached the roof, pushing yourself harder as you sprinted up the quinjet ramp.

"Go!" You barked out, Nat immediately pulling the jet off the roof and into the sky, the ramp not even closed.

"I... am going... to kill... Stark." You panted, doubled over as you tried to catch your breath. You could hear the explosions in the distance as the building beneath you was destroyed. "Honestly... would it kill him... to make longer-ranged bombs?"

"Well, to be fair, we've never had an explosives expert on the team before." Steve defended only to be met with a glare.

"That's no excuse." You glowered. "They had better bombs in World War Two and you know it!"

You had seen some of them yourself in Tripp's suitcase of Howling Commandos gadgets that he got from his grandfather. They may have been bigger and a pain in the ass to set, but at least they gave an adequate amount of time to get to safety.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Steve echoed the same sentiment,

"These ones are a helluva lot easier to set." He argued, tossing one of the round explosives in one hand.

"Rogers, you idiot." You snapped, snatching the bomb out of the air before he could catch it again. "This is a bomb, not a toy!"

Steve had the gall to smile while you scolded him. "Jesus, that is not something I should have to say to someone who is nearly one-hundred-years-old."

"Relax, Y/N, it's not like it's gonna explode." The super-soldier placed a hand on your shoulder and you scowled up at him.

"It very well could!" You knew that he was right, the explosive was stable and could only be activated with the remote, however, now the argument was about principle. "Who's the explosives expert here, hm?"

"How did a history major become an expert in blowing things up?" Sam asked curiously, breaking up your petty argument.

"Well, I've been exploding things since I was a little girl," you began, making a show of putting the bomb back into its designated case before plopping down into one of the many seats lining the interior of the quinjet. "My dad was a science teacher and we used to do all kinds of experiments together. Coke and Mentos, baking soda volcanos, film canister rockets- the works."

You sighed happily, though Sam and Steve didn't miss the sad look in your eyes that was always present when you talked about your family.

"I sort of naturally drifted towards real explosives after SHIELD recruited me." You shrugged and Sam nodded understandably, but Steve was staring at you as if you had just told him the moon was orange.

"What happens when you mix Coke and Mentos?" He asked warily and yours and Sam's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Y-you don't know?" Sam spluttered out through his shock.

Steve shook his head slowly, looking even more alarmed by your response to his question.

"Oh, Stevie, we are going to have so much fun when we get back." You grinned already choosing which of Tony's labs you would be hijacking.

___

"So what did you do for fun when you were a kid?" You asked as you sat on the floor of one of the many Stark labs at the Tower.

A soda-covered tarp sat abandoned nearby and you and Steve were surrounded by nearly-empty two-liters of Coke. After touching back down in New York, you immediately ran out to buy the soda and mints necessary for the classic experiment. You had a hypothesis that Steve might want to repeat the explosion more than once, a hypothesis that the man readily proved correct. Now you sat facing each other, steadily drinking your way through the flat soda left in the bottom of the plastic bottles because you had insisted it was "tradition."

"Well, my ma and I were pretty poor, even before the Depression hit." Steve began, taking a swig of the nearest two-liter and grimacing slightly at the taste of slightly-minty flat Coke. "We couldn't afford to go out much, so we made do with what we had at home. I remember I spent about a week drawing playing cards when our deck fell apart. I used to draw a lot back then."

You recognized the look of mixed nostalgia and grief in Steve's eyes as he spoke about the past; it was a look you were intimately familiar with yourself.

"When Bucky and I moved in together after my ma passed he'd let me sketch him while he cooked or baked in the kitchen." Steve smiled, a faraway look in his eyes as he recounted the past.

"You never helped out?" You asked, teasing lacing your voice.

"Nah," Steve laughed. "I was hopeless in the kitchen, still kinda am. After I nearly burnt down the kitchen twice Buck stopped letting me anywhere near the stove."

You smiled, thoroughly enjoying Steve's storytelling. He seemed at ease in that moment, completely relaxed and open, something rare for Captain America. The wheels began to turn in your own head when he brought up his childhood best friend, now a fugitive with spotty memories of his own past.

"What were his favorite things to make?" You asked and Steve grinned, though it was so natural you weren’t even sure he realized he was doing it.

"I was too sick to work back then, and with only one source of income we were still pretty disadvantaged, but on special occasions, Bucky would make this baked apple pudding that was divine."

"Divine, huh?" You giggled, tucking that information away. "I wish I could've tried it."

"I actually might still have the recipe." Steve perked up at the thought and you stared at him, puzzled.

"How do you still have a recipe from the thirties?"

"When I went into the ice the SSR boxed up everything in my apartment for 'records.' When I woke up SHIELD gave them all back to me." The blond downed the last of the flat soda and jumped to his feet, practically buzzing in excitement. "C'mon let's go look for it!"

"Slow down there, cowboy." You held out a cautionary hand before gesturing at the lab. "We have to clean all this up first so Stark doesn't kill us."

Steve groaned but relented and you spent the next fifteen minutes making sure Tony would never know they had exploded soda in his "state-of-the-art, high-tech labs."

___

"Sergeant Barnes, it's Agent Y/L/N. I'm coming in." You announced into the speaker, the door beside it unlocking with a click as the technology recognized your voice.

The cabin was dark when you entered but before you could reach out to flip the light switch next to the door you were pinned to the wall, grocery bags falling to the floor.

You couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips though you made sure to control your breathing the way you were trained to. You knew what to do in this situation but needed to remain calm to do it. The arm pressing across the top of your chest made it difficult to breathe steadily, but you were able to manage after a minute of focusing on remaining still and slowing your heart rate.

"Sergeant Barnes." You managed to get out, your voice a bit raspy albeit steady.

The man growled at the name and said something in Russian that you couldn't understand.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." You began again. "You were a Sergeant of the one-hundred-and-seventh division in World War Two. On a mission to intercept an enemy transport, you were injured and captured by Hydra. Hydra experimented on you and brainwashed you."

You could feel the muscles in the arm relax, though the man wasn't close to removing it just yet, so you continued.

"I am Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Three months ago we met in Washington D.C. and I brought you to this safe house. Every week since then I have come here to check in on you and bring you groceries."

This wasn't the first time you had been met with the Winter Soldier when you arrived at the safehouse and you had had to quickly learn how to bring Sergeant Barnes back. You had found the Soldier responded best to facts, and so you would lay out the facts that led Barnes to that moment in the most even and calm voice you could, allowing the Soldier to stand down and Barnes to come through.

"You are not the Winter Soldier, Sergeant Barnes." You reminded him evenly, and after a moment you felt the man relax entirely and stager quickly away from you.

"Agent Y/L/N, I'm so sorry." He gasped, voice ragged as he quickly worked to pick up the groceries that had fallen out of their bags when you had dropped them.

"It's quite alright, Sergeant Barnes. I know that wasn't you."

It was easy to say because you believed it, though you hadn't always. When you had initially brought Barnes to the abandoned SHIELD safehouse it had been to monitor him to see how much of him overlapped with his assassin alter ego. After about a month of observation, you had found that there was no overlap between the two, other than the fact that Barnes held the Soldier's memories. Hydra had tried to erase everything that made James Buchanan Barnes the man he was when creating their super-powered assassin.

"What's all this?" Barnes asked quietly, starring perplexed at the groceries, particularly the bag full of baking supplies.

"I thought you and I might bake something together," you said, trying not to give away your entire plan.

You had hoped to jog the man's memories a bit however you wanted to avoid accidentally planting false memories.

"I... I think I would like that?" The man said, though it came out more like a question as he still wasn't really sure what he did and didn't like anymore.

You smiled reassuringly. "Well then, lets hop to it!"

You worked quickly to put away the rest of the groceries before you laid out the ingredients for your bake on the counter.

"First and foremost those apples are going to need to be peeled and chopped," You said, nodding towards the apples as you held out a knife to the man beside you.

The two of you stood just like that for a moment, you with your arm holding out the knife and Barnes not taking it from you before you finally looked over at the man.

"What's the matter, Sergeant Barnes?" You asked, your accent clipped with concern.

"I can't be trusted." He said softly, and you almost missed it.

"Really now, Barnes, would I be trying to give you a knife if I thought you would hurt me?" You tried to reason, hoping you were doing enough to quell his anxieties. "I trust you, Sergeant Barnes, even if you don't trust yourself."

"James." He spoke so quietly that you weren’t sure if he had even spoken at all.

"What was that?"

"James," He repeated, more confidently this time. "You can call me James."

He wasn't sure why he had said it. From what he could remember, he hated the name James, everybody had called him Bucky. You were confused by it as well. You had never once heard Steve refer to him as James, always Buck or Bucky. Regardless, a first-name basis was a step in the right direction and you would take it.

"Alright then, James," you smiled at the man, "Those apples aren't going to cut themselves."

"Yes ma'am!" He joked as he finally took the knife from your hand, seeming to surprise himself as much as he surprised you and you smiled even wider.

You worked in mostly silence, the kitchen filled only with the sounds of your labor and James giving instructions- you had given him the recipe right away, hoping it would spark some memories. He didn't tell you if it had, but he moved through the kitchen with an ease and comfort you had yet to see from the man. You thought maybe he didn't realize; that he was having a subconscious reaction to being back in the kitchen, baking something that had at one point held such significance to him.

"Alright, Stevie, desserts in the oven, whaddya want for dinner?" James asked, his back to you as he rifled through the fridge. As soon as the words left his mouth he paused, slumping inwards on himself.

"James?" You asked softly, cautiously stepping towards the man.

"I- I remembered something." He said brokenly, and you decided it was safe to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Steve- I- we used to live together, I think," James spoke, gripping the fridge door tightly in an attempt to support himself. "I- I used to bake this for him, I- where did you get this recipe?"

His voice had turned somewhat hostile with the last question but you stood your ground, not stepping back from the man in front of you.

"Steve gave it to me," you said softly, hoping he could hear the honesty in your voice, "He told me how you used to make it for him."

"Is he- does he know I'm here?" James asked as he turned around to face you, eyes and voice filled with panic.

"No, and I won't tell him until you tell me you're ready."

"Thank you, Agent Y/L/N."

"It's Y/N." You smiled kindly, "Now, what should we have for dinner?"

___

"This mean anything to you?" You asked, eyebrow raised inquisitively as you set the old paper down in front of Skye.

"Where did you get this?" The agent gasped, breezing past the fact that no one was supposed to know what she had been working on.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you, nearly everyone at SHIELD seemed to think you knew more than you did.

"The Avengers brought me along on a Hydra raid. Found that in the basement of the warehouse, thought it looked familiar." You pointed to the worn parchment laid out on the table.

It was covered in an interlocking series of lines and circles that you didn't understand but you had seen Skye working on something similar in the past months.

"Does anyone know you have this?"

"Nope." You answered, a sly grin on your face. "Nabbed it before I left and then blew up the entire building, so Hydra won't know it’s missing either."

"What do you know about it?" Skye asked, seeming to have realized that this was supposed to be between her and Coulson.

"Nothing, other than that Coulson's had you working on it in secret for a few months now," you answered honestly. "You have to be a little quicker when closing down the holoscreen." You added when you noticed Skye's confusion.

"Noted," Skye responded dryly. "Well, thank you for the old parchment but I can't tell you anything else."

"I didn't expect you to," you smiled before asking, "How about something you can talk about? Like what happened with Browning?"

"Hunter's still pissed we've been shadowing them," Skye smirked and you laughed, not even slightly surprised. The mercenary was more a fan of his paychecks than of SHIELD's protocols. "But an enhanced took out Browning before we could get to him. We're pretty sure he's with Hydra which means they're after the 0-8-4 too."

"Big surprise there," you sighed, the world may think Hydra is gone but you knew the truth: they were just biding their time in the shadows once again.

"So when do we go out to collect it before they can?" You asked curiously, having been off base when the first mission had occurred and Coulson wasn't exactly accepting visitors to his office.

"As soon as we figure out where the government is keeping it." Skye sighed and you groaned. The US Government, or more specifically General Talbot, had been making SHIELD's operations even more difficult lately.

"Is he in the lab?" You asked, changing the subject.

"He's barely left, he's working on the samples we collected from the enhanced right now."

You frowned but nodded in thanks to the agent before making your way towards the lab.

Fitz hadn't been doing much better, he was still struggling to come up with words and his hands were still shaky. Additionally, he seemed to be talking to himself, or rather, a version of Simmons he had conjured up for himself. In your downtime on the base, you found herself just sitting in the lab, an option for Fitz to talk to if he wanted but you always brought a book or something to occupy yourself if not. Today you were sitting on the floor, leaning against a lab station while reading Rob Chernow's biography Alexander Hamilton.

"Uhh, Y-Y/N," Fitz began to panic, waving his hand wildly to get your attention.

"What is it?" You asked worriedly, quickly getting to your feet to stand next to the scientist.

"Y-you see that too, right?"

You did see. The metal samples Fitz had been analyzing had begun to ooze with a red liquid.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, face contorted in disgust and slight fascination.

Before Fitz could answer, the two of you watched as the pieces of metal turned into what appeared to be human flesh.

"What the hell?" You muttered under your breath while Fitz relaxed beside you.

"This is good, I mean- weird, but I can-" Fitz stuttered out tensing up once again and shaking his hand as he tried to come up with the words, looking over his shoulder as if looking to someone else for the answer.

"Figure out who's blood it is?" You supplied and Fitz nodded.

"Shouldn't be too hard." He affirmed quietly under his breath as if he needed to convince himself.

"Well you've got my help regardless," You smiled and Fitz nodded lightly before doling out instructions.

It wasn't the first time you had served as Fitz's hands in the lab and you fully intended to offer your services as long as he still needed them. Working together it took you about an hour to analyze the sample and search the various world DNA databases for a match, eventually finding one in SHIELD's own database.

"Carl Creel?" Fitz read the name out loud as you both peered at the monitor.

"We crossed him off the Index?" You asked skeptically, it wasn't uncommon for SHIELD to take out potentially dangerous enhanced individuals in the past, but clearly they hadn't done a very good job with Creel.

You pondered how SHIELD could've been so careless when Fitz pointed to the supervising agent listed on the report.

"Of course it was Garrett," you sighed. "We should get this to Coulson."

___

"Why am I here Maria?" You asked harshly, arms crossed as you stared at the woman. "I could've been helping Coulson."

"I get that you want to help, Y/N, but you still work here and you have to keep up appearances," Maria said firmly, ignoring her friend's scowl. "If you really want to help SHIELD, you'll keep your cover intact."

You rolled your eyes but you knew Maria was right. If you spent too much time away from the Tower the Avengers would get suspicious and they couldn't know that Coulson or SHIELD were still alive.

"Plus, you know you can't get involved with Talbot."

You rolled her eyes again.

"Why does it matter Mar? He clearly saw us both when we crossed his team at Providence. Why does it matter if he sees me with SHIELD again?"

"Y/N, you and I both know why it matters, you're just being stubborn. As far as the world is concerned, SHIELD is a terrorist group and if you're associated with them-"

"It'll bring a lot of bad PR to the Avengers and I'll have to step down from both organizations to protect them." You finished for her, sighing frustratedly. "I know, Maria, I just hate it."

"Go blow off some steam, hang out with the team, whatever you need to do," Maria instructed in the motherly tone she had used when she was your SO. "There's a classified mission on the books to explain your absence."

As if summoned, Sam walked into the conference room moments after Maria had finished speaking.

"Hey! Y/N is back!" He exclaimed, a grin on his face. "Where ya been?"

"That, my friend, is classified," you answered with a sly smirk before turning to Maria in order to keep up appearances, "Am I finished with my debrief, Agent Hill?"

"You're free to go, Agent Y/L/N," Maria confirmed before turning to Sam, "Next time, knock before you burst into occupied meeting rooms, Mr. Wilson."

"You could just lock the door," Sam shot back but retracted it when he was met with Maria's no-nonsense glare. "Yes ma'am, I'll knock next time."

You did your best to hold back your laughter at the interaction until you and Sam had left the room. You immediately erupted into giggles and Sam groaned.

"I don't know why you guys even bother with all that 'Agent Hill' 'Agent Y/L/N' crap." He said, trying to turn the tables on you as you boarded the elevator. "We all know you're friends, it's so unnecessary."

"It's about professionalism, Sam," you answered, smirking. "I know you don't get it because the Avengers lack any sense of professionalism whatsoever but-"

"Hey! I take great offense to that!" A voice yelped from behind you and you turned to see that Tony was on the elevator as well.

"Oh please, Stark, you're the worst perpetrator of unprofessionalism." You pointed out and Sam snorted.

"I'm not the one who exploded coke all over one of the labs with Rogers last week," Tony shot back and you flushed.

"That was on our off time and we cleaned it up!" You protested, "How'd you even find out about that?"

"You think I don't have surveillance in my labs?"

"Wait you guys did the Coke and Mentos without me?" Sam whined right as the elevator doors opened on the gym floor.

"Oh, look at that, this is my floor," you said, rushing off the elevator to escape your friend's inevitable wrath for leaving him out of the childish experiment.

"No way, Y/L/N, you're not getting off that easy," Sam followed you and you broke into a run.

You sprinted down the hallway towards the gym doors, Sam hot on your heels.

"Steve! Nat! Help!" You squealed as you burst through the double doors, darting behind Steve's tall frame as he stood in front of a punching bag.

"Get back here, Y/L/N!" Sam yelled as he ran through the doors, still swinging from your entrance.

"What's this about, Sam?" Steve asked in mock seriousness as the man stalked towards them.

"Oh good Rogers, you're here too," Sam said and Steve had the mind to look alarmed right before Sam landed a hit on the super soldier's arm.

"Sam! What the hell was that for?"

"You guys blew up pop without me!"

"I didn't know you were supposed to do it with us!" Steve protested and the pair went silent for a moment.

Then you found herself struggling in Steve's arms as he turned on you.

"Steve! Let me go!" You gasped.

"Tell Sam you're sorry," Steve instructed, and you bit back a laugh, schooling your face into one of determination.

"Never!" You yelled, using your years of training to maneuver out of Steve's grip and using his weight to your advantage to flip him to the ground, his back landing hitting the mat below them with a thud.

Natasha let out a whoop from the other side of the gym where she had been silently observing. "That's my girl!"

You shot the redhead a grin as you took up a defensive stance. "Try me, Wilson." you dared.

Sam looked between the British agent and the blond supersoldier who was still lying between the mat before standing down.

"Nah," he shook his head, "Just invite me next time."

You snorted but agreed.

"Hey Y/N, wanna spar?" Nat called from the other side of the gym where she was already wrapping her fists.

"Sure," you answered with a laugh, "I love getting my ass kicked by former Soviet operatives."

Sam, Steve, and Nat all laughed and you flipped them off mockingly as you walked to the locker room to change out of your work clothes.

___

"I got here as soon as I could," you said sadly as you knelt next to Skye.

You were in Hartley's room and Skye was packing up the agent's belongings.

"How's everyone holding up?"

"I think we're all compartmentalizing," Skye sighed, folding up a piece of clothing and placing it in the suitcase. "Coulson won't mourn until we find out if Hunter snitched, and Mack and Tripp are putting all their efforts into reverse-engineering the quinjet's cloaking."

You had to remind yourself to take a deep breath to stop yourself from going off about the cloaking. You were less than thrilled with how Coulson, and truly the rest of the team, had been handling Fitz since the accident, and now they had gone ahead and found a cloaking solution even though Fitz had been working on one for months. You knew the organization desperately needed it, but you thought Coulson could've at least brought Fitz on to what they were doing instead of keeping him in the dark. But now wasn't time to get into that debate, now was the time to mourn Hartley and Idaho.

You helped Skye pack up the rest of Hartley's belongings until you were joined by Hunter, who had apparently decided not to betray SHIELD. You gave the two of them space, heading to the lab instead. Your presence there had started as a way to comfort Fitz, but at some point, the grey tiles and sterile surfaces had become something of a comfort to yourself. You had planned to just sit in a corner and stew in your emotions, maybe text Nat or Steve or Sam, but when you approached Mack was there talking to Fitz. You stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter the room and interrupt whatever they were doing. It was rare for other team members to seek out Fitz in the lab, everyone was too afraid of what they'd find.

You watched as Fitz handed Mack a file, the taller agent looking them over.

"I didn't solve this today." Fitz blurted but instead of wincing or pointedly looking anywhere but at the man, Mack looked up from the files to look the scientist in the eyes.

"You think you can?"

You cursed yourself as you let an excited gasp escape you. It immediately drew the two men's attention and the atmosphere of the lab changed.

"Y/N," Mack acknowledged and Fitz looked down shyly.

"I was just coming here for some peace, but I'd love to help," you explained your eavesdropping sheepishly.

"I think we could use the extra hands." Mack smiled and you grinned, stepping into the lab.

"What're we looking at?" You asked, stepping forward to look at the file that was now placed on one of the many lab tables.

It wasn't long before you had a cluster of lab techs gathered around the three of you as Fitz doled out instructions.

"It's about the.. the resonant," Fitz explained, though it was clear that none of the techs quite knew what he meant by the way their eyes flitted between you and Mack for help.

Fitz noticed the looks and you frowned as he clutched the wires he had been holding closer to his chest. "I didn't solve this today."

"So, what is this?" Mack asked, holding up another object that you didn't recognize. "Is this some sort of sonic device? Like the cloaking?"

You watched as the two men grew increasingly frustrated with each other.

"No, I- ugh, I didn't-" Fitz fumbled, his tone becoming more helpless as he continued to be misunderstood.

"Sorry, forget the cloaking." Mack waved it off and you glared at the techs as they exchanged wary looks. "No one blames you for that, let's just focus on Creel."

You yelped slightly as Fitz threw the papers off the lab table they'd been working at and Mack yelled for him to calm down.

"Get. out." You growled at the techs as they exchanged another look when Fitz turned his back to the group. They scampered off and Fitz turned back around to face them.

Okay." He said, taking a deep breath.

"Take it easy," Mack told the man and you frowned as you saw Fitz become visibly upset again.

'Look, I didn't solve this today!" He exclaimed and Mack matched his frustrations.

"Yeah, I know! You've said that already!" He yelled back.

"No!" Fitz exclaimed, "I didn't solve this today."

Mack looked like he was about to blow his top but you finally made the connection.

"You mean you've solved this before?" You asked him eagerly, eyes alight with the realization.

Fitz nodded excitedly, his posture relaxing slightly now that he had gotten his point across.

"Wait, you mean this is an old design?" Mack asked

"Yes! Yes!" Fitz said and you reached for a tablet, pulling up the designs from the past year.

"Okay, we're with you, Turbo," Mack said as they gathered around the tablet.

You began to flip through the designs, a few of which you recognized from various SHIELD reports until Fitz stopped you at one called the Overkill Device.

"Let's tell the team." You grinned at Fitz who looked quite proud of himself as he looked over the schematics.

___

"Did you get the 0-8-4?" You asked eagerly as the team filed off the quinjet.

You had been bitter that you weren’t brought in on the mission, especially since it had nothing to do with Talbot or any other government official but you knew you had accomplished something big back on base so you were willing to let it go.

"No," Hunter shook his head, "But we got Creel."

He jerked his thumb behind him a few agents escorted Creel off the Bus. Hunter wore a shit-eating grin and even dared to throw some taunts at the man as he passed them. You knew this was important to him, after what the man did to Hartley and Idaho.

"So Fitz's device worked?" You were thrilled, he needed a win, and this was a big one.

"Worked like a charm!" Hunter answered, taking a break from yelling insults at Creel's back.

"Woah, what the hell happened to Skye, Tripp, and May?" You demanded as the three slowly made their way off the plane with help from Coulson, each of them glaring daggers at Hunter as they passed by. "And Coulson was in the field?"

"A lot happened, I'll fill you in over a beer," Hunter said, making his way into the base and you followed.

You were mostly quiet as they made your way to the kitchen, Hunter grabbing you two bottles from the fridge.

"So what did you do to piss off May, Tripp, and Skye and to get Coulson into the field?" You asked as they sat on the barstools that lined the kitchen island.

"Might've iced them all to get a shot at Creel," Hunter shrugged nonchalantly and you gaped.

"You what?"

"Then Coulson took Creel down with Fitz's device and offered me a job at SHIELD." Hunter continued, speaking like this was just another day at the office for him.

"Hunter, that doesn't make any sense. You shot three of our agents!"

"With ICERS!" Hunter protested, "I wouldn't have killed them!"

You merely raised an eyebrow as if to say "wouldn't you have?"

"Y'know what? I take great offense to that, Y/L/N." Hunter said, using the hand holding his beer to gesture at your face. "I think I'd quite like to drink alone now."

"You're such an ass, Hunter." You laughed, standing up from your stool.

"Funny, that's what my ex-wife told me before we split up." He joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, Agent Lance Hunter," you smirked at Hunter's grimace and grabbed two more beers from the fridge, carrying them back to the Hanger.

As you expected, the Bus ramp was down and Mack and Fitz were stood inside.

"You look like you could use some refreshments." You joked as you walked up the incline to stand with the two men, handing each one a bottle.

"What's this for?" Mack asked, an easy smile on his face as he accepted the drink.

"To celebrate, of course," you answered, "Without Fitz, we never could've captured Creel, and if Coulson's plans to hand him over to Talbot works we might finally have the military off our asses."

"I'll drink to that," Mack said and you saw Fitz smile, the three of you clinking your bottles together.

___

a/n: Lot’s of jumps in this one. I think I’ve kinda decided that’s how most chapters are going to be- I’ve got a lot of ground to cover between here and endgame and I don’t want this story to drag on too much. Since the story is in Season 2 of Agents of SHIELD right now I think the Avengers parts are going to be a little lighter to balance out the heavier SHIELD moments (Though I did manage to get in an Avengers action scene). That’ll shift once we reach MCU territory. Also, first full Bucky encounter! Let me know what you think!

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harry-sussex · 5 years ago

Text

A Note... and A Big Thank You

Gather ‘round, my friends. This is going to be a long post, so please bear with me as I write all of this out. I’d appreciate it if you would read until the end, if you’re interested.

It’s been a few weeks now, and I’ve had time to settle my thoughts and almost come to terms with what’s happened with the British Royal Family over the past month or so. It was difficult for me in a very, very real way. I don’t know The Duke and Duchess of Sussex or their son, and they will never know me, but I care for them in a way I can’t really describe. I can only hope that you all know what the feeling is like, as lovers of royalty yourselves. It’s hard enough to explain to people in the real world. I’m glad I won’t have to explain to you that the feelings - of affection, of pride, and of disappointment - are very real, very tangible... even with respect to complete strangers who live thousands of miles away, working for a country in which you do not live, with privilege and a lifestyle you could only imagine... the feelings are very real.

On January 8th, I was at work. Typing away, doing my thing, more or less minding my own business. I saw the Instagram notification - SussexRoyal made a post - and when I saw the little thumbnail image next to the notification of their engagement photocall, I literally thought oh my God, Meghan is pregnant. I clicked that notification faster than I’ve clicked anything in my life.

As you all know, that’s not even close to what they were saying. Ultimate high to ultimate low in a second flat. I remember my stomach dropping. And I remember the panic. Or at least my sheer, unadulterated panic because let me tell you - I was panicking. In a very real, heart pounding, head spinning, caps lock, oh my God no this isn’t happening way. My Harry was leaving and taking with him some of the best parts of who he is - a wife and child we’ve only just gotten to know, with whom we’d already fallen so in love, after waiting so long for them to appear in his life - and I. was. panicking.

Once we had a few moments as a fandom to wrap our heads around the Sussexes’ proposal as outlined on SussexRoyal.com, to develop some semblance of understanding, the second bomb dropped - HM was unaware of their decision to go public. Charles and William weren’t in on it, either. The discussions were preliminary and were far from adequate enough for the public’s questioning and demanding gaze. Harry did what Harry has always been prone to doing... he didn’t like the way things had to be, so he made his own rules.

It didn’t look good for my Harry, who I’ve always loved, always defended, even when the worst parts of his personality overshadowed the best. And for the first time in all the years I’ve been following him, I had nothing to defend him with. Nothing. He was wrong in my eyes - plain as day, he was a stubborn, spoiled, petulant brat who didn’t get his way immediately, and retaliated. He had his reasons, sure, and they were (and are) legitimate. But I couldn’t find a single way to defend the way he went about making it happen. And let me tell you guys - that was not easy for me to wrap my head around. I’d always found room in my thoughts to understand Harry’s relatively infrequent grand lapses of judgment. This time, I had nothing. My Harry was wrong. Wrong.

Not only was he wrong, but he seemed so lost, so desperate to get out. It was absolutely heartbreaking imagining my Harry - my strong, cheery, dedicated Harry - feeling so desperate for the sake of the safety of his wife and child that he went to this extreme. Abandoning the only life he’d ever know for a chance at peace. The only reason for such a move was sheer desperation. As infuriating as it was... it was equivalently, if not more, heartbreaking. He sought peace in the only way he thought he could, blindly fearful of the same forces that took his mother, now coming for his wife and son, clawing his way out so he could finally rest... heartbreaking. I don’t know this about him, but just imagining it was enough for me to feel sick to my stomach. My poor Harry. My poor, stubborn Harry.

Within minutes, this place was at absolute war. A war that has been building for several years finally hit its breaking point. I saw people turn on each other, turn on the royals, change their points of view. I saw language I’ve never seen in all of my years here. The blame game, finger pointing, complete dissolution of real relationships, friendships breaking, two factions violently clashing with every new piece of information released... it was awful. It was like a train wreck, or a dumpster fire. I’ve seen a lot happen in this fandom over the past six years, but I’ve never seen anything like January 8th. Never. I couldn’t sit around and watch it happen but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I had to be involved for the sake of this blog and for the sake of William, Kate, Harry, Meghan, the kids, and the rest of the British Royal Family, but I hated my involvement. It was an awful feeling. Combined with how awful I was feeling already about the idea of the split alone... I felt terrible for days. Weeks, even. Even now, just thinking about it, seeing photos of Harry and Meghan plastered all over every media source... even seeing William and Kate out and about, still doing their royal duties... I still feel absolutely awful about the whole thing. Lost, and sad, and lonely... just awful.

I was losing and gaining followers every minute. Some people I thought were friends vanished in the blink of an eye, because they didn’t like what I had to say. Some - violently so. My inbox and messages blew up - some agreeing with me, more screaming at me, and even more asking what the hell was going on. It’s been more than four weeks, and I still haven’t gotten through even a third of the messages. My head was spinning in the worst way, and I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t believe it. All of these years of loving my Harry, waiting for him to find his partner, watching him find her, fall in love with her, propose to her, bring her into this unique world of his... traveling 3,500 miles to see the wedding in person, falling in love with Meghan for the simple reason that he loved her, crying for their pregnancy, and falling in love with the bump that became Bubba that became Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor... just for it to all get ripped out from under my feet not two years later. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t handle it. I was heartbroken and completely blindsided and lost and so, so immeasurably sad. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do.

People were coming at me in droves, mocking my longtime defense of the Cambridges and my omnipresent denial of the feud. Screaming about William, about how I’m awful for caring for him and his family after what he’s done to his only brother... screaming about the Royal Family and how I’m terrible for loving them despite what they did to Harry and Meghan... telling me to go focus on my “perfect” future King/Queen and leave the Sussexes out of my life, calling me the worst names for having the audacity to open my heart to more than Harry/Meghan/Archie... and worse. Much, much worse. My inbox was absolutely atrocious after this whole thing first happened. A lot of the messages have been since deleted, but just reading them once was more than enough for me.

I was so ashamed, knowing that this place that I often love so much has eroded to this. Violence, cruelty, arguing, slinging real insults, cursing the existence of some of my favorite people on the planet, cursing each other... it was so awful. So awful. There are no words to describe how it felt for me - a William girl, a Kate girl, a Harry girl, and a Meghan girl, through and through - to be a part of this fandom during these past few weeks. But mostly, it was absolutely, heartbreakingly awful. I’m strong enough to know that this stuff doesn’t matter, not really... but it does, in its own way. It does.

When the split was finalized with a quick, heartfelt, and ultimately quite succinct message from The Queen, I genuinely cried. Real tears, real heartbreak. That was it - the end of something many of us waited years and years for, gone after not even two. Never in my wildest dreams did I even entertain such an idea. The end of six years of following my Harry... done. Harry was one of the highlights of my day for so long and now... that’s it. It’s over. I was not ready for it, not even remotely prepared for even the idea of it (a split never once even crossed my mind as a possibility to begin with), and now... it’s over. And it hurts now, just as it did on January 8th and every day of every announcement since then. It hurts, in a very real way. It hurts. And Harry’s last speech sealed the deal. In ten minutes, he seemed to confirm the sheer desperation with which he acted. He reminded the world of his reasons for doing what he did - ultimately, to protect that which he holds most dear. He promised that he wasn’t bailing, but he couldn’t live this way anymore... I’ll admit, I bawled while I was reading it. I still haven’t listened to the audio; I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. It broke me completely. Shattered me. My Harry, the light of my life, broke my heart that day and I honestly believe things will never be the same for me with him. I’m heartbroken. Truly, honestly, even after all of these weeks... utterly heartbroken.

I’ve been called extra, dramatic, pathetic... both here and in my real life. I can live with that; that doesn’t bother me. The feelings are real. The pride, the disappointment, the heartbreak, the panic, the fury, the excitement, the joy... even though we don’t know these royals, the feelings are real. I’ll go to my grave saying that. Most of you guys understand that, I know you do. Dramatic? Maybe. But the way I felt, and feel, about this situation is very, very, agonizingly real.

I’m not sure if it’s apparent, but I’ve taken a bit of a break around here since the last statement dropped. I’ve been online, sure - occasionally reblogging, chatting, liking, commenting, and whatnot - but I haven’t been nearly as active as I tend to be. There’s a big hole in this place that the Sussexes left behind when they split from the Royal Family and it’s taken some adjusting for me to grow accustomed to their absence on my dashboard. I love William and Kate with my whole heart, you guys know that, but there’s just something missing right now. A little bit of spark, a little bit of my Harry magic is missing, and his absence from my day-to-day blogging dims the allure of this place significantly for me.

I’m still not sure what’s going to happen with this blog. A blog called Harry-Sussex is hard to keep up if there’s no more Harry Sussex to follow, you know? I’m not sure how to cover Their Royal Highnesses the future King and Queen alongside Mr. and Mrs. Sussex, regular people. This blog has been and always will be about royalty... what do you do when half of the royals you cover and care about decide they don’t want to be royal anymore?

I’ve been here for almost six years and I don’t really want to leave just yet. I think there’s a lot left to see, a lot left to say. I always wanted to stick around as long as I could, until William’s investiture as Prince of Wales at the very least, but the Sussex split has made that idea much less appealing. Maybe it’d be easier to follow these people I love so much from afar, instead of so closely. Maybe I could return to the blissful ignorance of the days before I had this blog, when I got excited over outfits and babies and tiaras instead of getting frustrated over finances and security and engagements. I’m not sure. What I do know is that this isn’t as fun for me as it used to be, and truly, I never thought I’d say that. But in all honesty, this... this has been different. Way different than anything in my wildest dreams.

I’m not leaving - please don’t mistake that. I’m not leaving, not yet, but I just want you all to know that my heart truly isn’t in this right now, and I want you to understand why. The Sussexes took most of it with them, and whatever’s left has been completely shattered by the way this fandom, this place turned on itself and absolutely imploded... destruction, violence, and cruelty, shattering it from the inside out. This place is fractured, it is damaged, perhaps irreparably. And it is very, very real. It may be an online space, but behind each blog is a real person with real feelings towards these very real royals, and the words one says and actions in which one partakes can have very real consequences.

That being said... the consequences do not always have to be negative. There are some truly wonderful people involved in this fandom, without whom I’m not sure how I would have made it through. It was hard, it still is hard, navigating this new “blog normal.”

There are quite a few people that I have met or interacted with over the years, and particularly since the split, who have made navigating this new normal much easier. It was so hard, I was so upset that I cannot adequately vocalize the feeling... but there are some people who went out of their way to cheer me up, however inadvertently. Through a quick message, chatting, sheer knowledge, or just making me laugh... I really struggled with this place for a bit. I wasn’t sure if I was going to bow out or not. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the malice, the negativity from the fandom compounded with missing Harry and Meghan more than I could stand.

I’m not, at least not now, and I truly believe I owe that to these people. In the weeks between the first statement and the last, the worst parts of this place were on full display for the world - and me - to see. I almost let it get to me; I almost let it win. The best parts, though - nearly overcome by the sheer magnitude of what was happening - revealed themselves to me in a time when I really, really needed it. My feelings regarding the split were tangible. The help these wonderful people provided to me was equivalently real, equivalently tangible.

So, with that, I’d like to name and thank more than a few people publicly who really, really made this place a place worth staying in during and in the immediate aftermath of the Sussex split:

@acaffeinateduniverse - Someone I’ve never spoken to before the split. You saw my posts about how heartbroken I was and sent me the absolute sweetest message, understanding and empathizing and generally just being very, very sweet. For worrying, and for understanding the reality of these feelings. You are a surprise bright spot in a place that can so often be dark and the world is better because you are in it. I’m so sorry that you’re equivalently upset by this new arrangement, but we will make it through together. You’re an absolute angel, thank you for being you.

@avidroyalfan - We’ve been through a lot on this website together, haven’t we, Debby? Thank you for always bringing it back down to Earth and for always coming out swinging - especially when anons are involved. For always caring about what I have to say. Sometimes I feel like I’m screaming into the void, but never if you’re around. Seeing your name always brightens my day. Thank you.

@cambridgemadness - We have almost nothing in common from a royal-watching standpoint and yet you took time out of your day to message me in the peak of this mess. We don’t even follow each other but you saw what was going on and put aside our differences and dissimilar preferences to reach out a hand. This place needs more of that. The problem here isn’t dissenting opinions; it’s the malice often associated with finding out someone feels differently than you do. You never did that - not with me - and I really appreciate it more than I can put into words. Thank you, Vanessa, for reaching out to a complete stranger so kindly. Seriously. Thank you.

@catherineandmeghans - What can I possibly say, Rach? We’ve been through a lot together over the years and there’s nobody out there who handles the ins and outs of this hellhole better than you do. For always being a bright spot in anyone’s day and for always speaking with understanding, level-headedness, and a (figurative) smile. For knowing when to take a step back. You are an angel.

@claireofluxembourg - It’s a rare thing when someone is a fan and a critic of the same royal, given the development and preeminence of stan culture - especially in this fandom. For not letting your love of Henry cloud your judgment. For always being hilarious (hello, Henry’s bald spot) and for always, always owning your shit. For never being afraid to speak your mind. For reaching out and understanding (even when I’m being dramatic) and for everything. You know, friend. You know. I love you so much ♡

@crownprincesses - For a rational brain, the sweetest disposition, and equal-opportunity-representation of everyone’s favorite royals. For understanding what was happening and responding so calmly. For never letting it get to you. I could learn a thing or two about that from you, Chiara. Thank you for it.

@defend-mm - For your passion, dedication, and availability. For your involvement. For the regular positivity in my notifications that I regretfully have taken for granted in the past. For your openness and enthusiasm and eagerness to defend. For your engagement with the broader community. We should all enjoy passion and excitement the way you do.

@duchessofostergotlands - The Queen herself. For knowing everything and never balking at sharing your knowledge. For being the most rational and thorough person I know. For level-headed understanding and never, ever judging - even and especially when I deserve it. For your openness and willingness to talk. For never letting your preferences get in the way of what others are feeling. For your understanding and patience. For RuPawl. I could go on, but I think you know. Thank you, Jessica.

@gloriousglorianas - One of the most level-headed people I know. Cece, I don’t know where this place would be without your calm, forgiving, and rational insight, but I’m glad I’ll never have to know. You are a steadfast pillar of rationality mixed with a heavy dose of excitement and passion and I appreciate it so much. Thank you for reaching out as kindly as you have and thank you for sticking through the mess and coming out stronger on the other side. For your nuanced understanding of anything and everything.

@grandmotherofeurope - Thank you for understanding, for loving him and knowing the heartbreak that came with the split. You reached out - again, without knowing me from a hole in the wall - without judging and with understanding and compassion and I’m forever grateful for it. I’m truly so, so sorry that you’re so hurt by what’s happened. I sympathize, and I understand. You’ll get through it, I promise. Thank you for being so sweet.

@harryandmeghansussex - My best girl. Becky, I don’t know how we made it through, but we did. It’s going to be an adjustment but if anyone’s going to be alright, it’s you. Harry and Meghan would be thrilled to know they have someone like you out there in their corner. These days, they need it. For the positivity, all of the challenges, and never letting the negativity get through. For the updates and the pictures and always keeping me (and everyone else) in the loop. I wouldn’t have known anything about the Sussexes beyond what was posted on Instagram without you. Thank you for keeping on top of it when the rest of us can’t. For understanding and valuing my points of view without bailing on a friendship because we differ. Another valuable commodity, a true rarity around here. Thank you.

@hollylite - The very first person to reach out when I was in the middle of having a nervous breakdown. Thank you for your consistent reassurances, your sweet demeanor, and for your understanding. Our conversation reminds me of the very best this place has to offer; you are most certainly a part of that. Thank you.

@hrhatbat - Morgan... Morgan Morgan Morgan. I swear you’re like a Texas-living, design-savvy, stylist clone of myself. We have so much in common it literally scares me, but I love it. Thank you for keeping things bright and airy around here. It felt so dark for a few weeks, but you never let that get to you or through you, and you never let it get past you to everyone else. Thanks for never judging and always having something else to talk about.

@lizisaroyalist - You know how much I adore you, but it needs to be in writing. For always making me laugh and for always coming out swinging. For the best insults (”cold slice of ham”) and for never taking yourself (or anyone else) too seriously. For always being in my corner. For laughing at the ridiculous messages I get, especially now. I could go on for hours. There aren’t enough words, but I think you know. Thank you for being you, Liz. I love you so so so much ♡ It’s come to my attention that you’ve chosen to leave since I started writing this, which is okay. We’ll be here if you ever want to come back. I hope you see this. You deserve to know how wonderful you are and how thankful I am for your friendship.

@lorising - Lo. What can I say that hasn’t already been said about you? For the love, the positivity, and the understanding. For defending anyone and everyone - royal or not. For the laughter, and the incredibly unique and invaluable optimism and enthusiasm. For reaching out with a hug and for being so warm and inviting to anyone and everyone. For your “infinite support.” We could all learn a thing or two from you.

@meghanscatherines - For being so willing to start new communities within this larger community. For your positivity and optimism. For being as sweet as pie. For understanding, empathizing, and being so compassionate. You’re a sweetheart, Bia. Thank you.

@middletonmarkle - The sweetest girl. Mackinley, seeing you in my notifications and on my dashboard always puts a smile on my face. For bringing me back down to earth with the smallest, sweetest comment. It’s the little things. Also, for being on the “William is attractive as all hell” train. I respect that - you know I do.

@mrmrswales - Our resident genius. I have no idea how someone like me and someone like you get along so well, but I’m thankful that we do. For always being willing to share your information. For the sheer breadth of knowledge and expertise you bring to the table. For being willing to have a conversation, even when that conversation involves someone you categorically cannot stand. For your drive, ambition, your attitude, and for always playing the Devil’s advocate. I wouldn’t know half of the things I do without you. May we all love and appreciate and take pride in our favorites the way you do yours.

@princeh3nry - The other fandom OG Harry girl. For understanding what it’s like to love him and for understanding what it’s like to love the rest of them, too. For never letting the atmosphere cloud your judgment. For years of Harry content. For (inadvertently) dragging me into the mess that is following Prince Harry all those years ago. For a nuanced and established point of view. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one still in this thing for Harry. Thank you for making me feel a lot less alone - especially now.

@princessanneftw - A seriously underrated person around here who never gets involved in the drama (and who seriously makes me laugh with every post). Thank you so much for reaching out when I was about to lose my mind. I know I haven’t answered your message (I’m terrible at that, notoriously) but I do go back and read it over and over when I get overwhelmed with this situation, which, even now, weeks later, is still quite often. It was so sweet and I am so grateful that you took the time to write it. You are an angel. You always crack me up - seriously, all the time - and that’s such a valuable commodity in this community. Thank you for your kindness and for your sense of humor.

@princesscatherinemiddleton - Our resident positivity guru, Duchess of Cambridge extraordinaire, fashion Queen. Grace, every community - online or not - deserves a person like you. From making it your personal mission to spread positivity among the darkness, to your calculated and fervent dedication to The Duchess of Cambridge, to welcoming The Duchess of Sussex with open arms... I don’t know what to say. It takes a special kind of person to willingly do what you do around here. I hope you never leave - we could use someone like you. Thank you for doing what you do and for reaching out directly. For understanding the bigger picture. So much love to you, my friend.

@queensonjas - I feel like you always understand what I’m trying to say even if it makes zero sense. Thank you for making me feel like a little bit less of a lunatic. Thank you for always including anyone and everyone. This place can be so ostracizing - thank you for never letting that happen, especially during this mess. I appreciate it more than I can say.

@riffraffrouge - I intentionally left this one last to write because I didn’t know how to put it into words, but I’ll try. Melissa, if I am grateful for anything that came from this disaster of a place, it’s you and your friendship. I had no idea that anyone on Earth loved both the Yankees and the Duchess of Cambridge the way I do... let alone someone who lives less than an hour away. When I made this blog six years ago, I didn’t think I’d get anything in my real life out of it. Fortunately, I was wrong. Thank you for everything you are and everything you do. For your kindness and for reaching out to anyone and everyone who needs a friend. For your enthusiasm (in everything) and for your willingness to speak, engage, learn, and teach. For freaking out with me when we signed Gerrit Cole and Brett Gardner. For laughing at the future of the Houston Astros and the Boston Red Sox. For never, ever, ever judging, especially for my hysterics during the split. Generally, for being the sweetest person on the face of the planet. There are no words, but I think (hope) you know. I’m so thankful that you’re you. Let’s get brunch again soon. I love you so so so so so much ♡

@rosegirl1416 - Another person I’ve never spoken to until the split. Your comments have not gone unnoticed, dear. Thank you for your patience and understanding. For your positivity and for the light you bring to this community. I’ll never forget your reply to one of my posts, telling me to breathe and take my time with getting back to everyone when I was in the middle of an outright breakdown. I needed to hear it. I really appreciate your kindness and generosity and humanity. This place lacks that kind of substance a lot of the time, but you don’t.

@will-make-more-mistakes-tomorrow - Your presence has not gone unnoticed, my friend. I see you day in and day out and I appreciate you so much. Thank you for your involvement, your generosity, your interest. It is rare to feel so seen and heard but you make it effortless. We all need someone like you in our corner. Thank you.

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

I’m not sure when my activity level will pick back up again. Writing this whole thing over the past week has been extremely therapeutic, so maybe it’ll be sooner rather than later. I know I have a ton of unanswered messages, both in my inbox and in my personal messages. I know I owe answers, especially to many of you tagged above, and I promise they will come. I’m still feeling so overwhelmed with this place and with the new status quo of following and loving the British Royal Family. I’m still furious at the situation and I’m still so, so, so damn sad.

I still care for them, and I always will, but the allure and luster of following the royals has dulled significantly for me now that half the people I care about aren’t working for the family anymore. I’ve tried to get into other families, other royals, and I just can’t. It’s William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan for me, is and will always be. With half of them on the other side of the globe... what else am I supposed to do, you know? How do I keep this thing going? I’m not sure, but right now, the hole is just too big for me to actively work through it. Maybe the weight will lessen as the new norm becomes old news, but for now... the absence is just too big. It still hurts too much. I can’t bring myself to get excited over the future for them right now because it just hurts way too much. Ultimately, I’m happy for them, but I’m not happy about it. I’m not excited to see what the future holds because it isn’t what it used to be. I still adore them both, but right now, the excitement that many Sussex fans are feeling about the prospect of future projects is foreign to me. I hope that changes, but for now... I’m just not into it anymore. I’m just not. Not the way I used to be. It breaks my heart, but it’s the truth. It just doesn’t hold the same magic for me anymore.

What was the point of me writing this mammoth essay? A few reasons, I guess. I first wanted to acknowledge my comparatively lackluster activity since the final statement was released. I wanted to acknowledge that I know I owe many of you answers, and I wanted to promise that they are coming - because they are. I wanted to acknowledge specifically the people who reached out to me during the events and days leading up to the final statement when I made it loud and clear that I was not coping well. I wanted to be perfectly honest about what I’ve been feeling, about the heartbreak and disappointment and feeling lost and alone. I wanted to recognize my reasons for taking a step back and the reasons for my diminishing interest in covering the royals... despite the fact that I’d never thought that day would come.

Mostly, though, I wanted to acknowledge the completely toxic culture that is associated with this fandom. Many people have written pieces about how our little niche of the Internet is the worst one to be in, and on January 8th, for the first time, I really felt it. The way people treated each other was not right. Period. We’re all culprits, but most people make an effort. Some people do not, and it infiltrates the entire place. There are real people with real feelings - yes, even about these royals that we do not and never will know - behind these blogs. If you’re not thinking about how what you’re writing would come off if you were saying it out loud instead, then you’re not doing it right. We can differ without being cruel. We can have a conversation without slinging accusations. We can be civil in the face of differences. The mute, block, and blacklist functions are there for a reason. Use them. If you don’t like what someone has to say, then make sure it can’t come across your dashboard. If you’re going to react, do it fairly. Things are difficult enough in this world without having a space that’s supposed to be fun and interesting become a dark cloud over your day. If this isn’t fun for you anymore, then maybe think about why. And do whatever you can to change it. This is your space. You and you alone have to make sure that it stays positive, or else it won’t.

I’ve unfollowed 16 blogs since the split. 97 to 81. My blocked list is double that. I’m not thrilled about it, but this needs to be about me, just like your space has to be about you. I truly believe that’s the only way to keep this fun for everyone. This isn’t enormously fun for me anymore, but it doesn’t need to be that way for everyone. If you don’t like reading something, make sure you can’t read it. It’s really that simple.

Anyway... I’m sorry for the long post. I really am. If you’ve stuck around this long, then I seriously applaud you. Thank you for caring about what I have to say and the way I’ve been feeling. It really helped to get this all out in writing. I’m hoping I’ll be back to normal soon. I love you guys, you know that. I really do. And I love them still - aggravating as they may be. I’m hoping this feeling doesn’t last forever, because I’m not done here just yet. I’m not ready to throw in the towel on six years. But it might be a little bit before things go back to normal around here for me. Thank you for understanding, and thank you for caring about them, and about me. I love you guys endlessly ♡

59 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 6 years ago

Note

What are some of your favorite long johnlock fics (like 100k+ words) ?

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Do you have any recommendations for a hella long (80k-250k+) and hella angsty with hella good writing? Like any personal favourites, if you’re into heavy stuff ig. (Bonus points if topics include either one being suicidal, infidelity/cheating, and/or if there’s a redemption arc)\

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: What’s the longest slow burn fic you’ve ever read? Ive only been reading fan fic for 4 months, and i read one that had 150k words but i was wondering if there are longer slow burns?

@deerstalker143 said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi, I really like your fic recs, and was wondering if you could provide a fic rec of long and sweet book-length Johnlock fics :D Thank you!

Hi Lovelies!!

OH GOD, you guys asked me these AGES ago, and I started a list and it just kept growing and growing and GROWING, especially since I’m reading a lot more really long epics these days, so it makes me happy to have a decent sized list for y’all now! I think now would be a good time to post them… and I know that people have been asking for them. So I’m putting these together since they’re long-fic related LOL Slow Burn List here if you’re interested in more!

NOVEL-LENGTH FICS: 100K+ FICS

See also: Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018) (I do have a whole bunch more since then, so just ask if you want a Pt. 2)

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w+ WiP || Fluff and Humour, Love Confessions, Romance, Snuggling) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who’s been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w. || H/C, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John’s kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John’s sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) –After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken {{I love Sherlock’s characterization in this… it’s so heartwrenching but very realistic}}.

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him. John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors ‘Verse

How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w. || Changling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he’s destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,857 w. || O-John, A-Sherlock || Body Swap, Crossing Universes, DubCon, H/C, Angst, Happy Ending) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

The Quiet Man by ivyblossom (E, 157,369 w. || Post-TRF, John First POV, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Present Tense, Imaginary Sherlock) – “Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?”

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn’t have much choice. There’s only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl – but cannot be ignored. Oh, and…porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

Fallen Series by Belladonna_Q, mamishka (T, 222,094 w. across 3 works || Winglock || Angel!John, Angels & Demons, Faes, Christianity, Changelings) – In a world where myth, mystery, and the supernatural flourish beneath the veneer of modern civilization, Sherlock is a master of magic as well as science and deduction. But there are some things that he cannot see, riddles he cannot unravel, even when they walk right beside him in the form of one John Watson…

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate’s secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn’t he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock’s past as events conspire to threaten their future.

MARKED FOR LATER

Cake and Other Sins by Indybaggins (E, 100,670 w. || Great British Bakeoff AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Baking, Desire, Disability, Incest (Holmescest/Holmescest with John), Masturbation, Falling in Love, Oral, Outdoor Sex, Past Drug Use, Poisoning, Voyeurism) – Sherlock and John meet as competing bakers on The Great British Bake Off. There’s intense baking, lush recipes and enticing food. Mycroft, guilt, past sins in chocolate and gingerbread. And love. That too.

Minutiae (Or 156 Things I Know About You) by AtlinMerrick (E, 101,342 w. + || WiP, Marriage, Anal/Oral Sex, Domestic, Stand Alone Chapters, Humour, Prompts, Lovers, Short Stories) – Here, in no particular order, are some of the things John has learned about Sherlock, and some of the things Sherlock has learned about John. In the end there will be 156 mundane and unusual facts for each of them. (Um…I never stopped at 156.) (All chapters stand alone.)

A Ritual to Read to Each Other by weeesi (E, 101,463 w. || Post S3 / Post HLV, Pining, Alternating POV, Masturbation, John’s Nightmares, Mary is Not Nice, Love Confessions, Flashbacks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, BJ’s / HJ’s, Shower Sex, Anal, John Deals With Feelings, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Injury, On Holidays, Implied Mystrade) – After Mycroft terminated his exile but before Sherlock could escape from the infuriating plane, John and Mary were whisked away by car to an unknown location.Sherlock hasn’t seen them for an entire year. He doesn’t know when he’ll see John again – until one day, he does.But, of course, nothing is simple.

Dog Days by All_I_need (E, 101,627 w. || Post-Baskerville AU, Experiments Gone Wrong, Fluff and Humour) – John has an accident in the laboratory of the Baskerville military facility. While they wait for the scientists to find a solution, he and Sherlock must re-examine the nature of their friendship as they navigate daily life and the Work, all while trying to answer the truly important questions: Is it okay to pet your flatmate if he happens to be a dog at the moment? And how exactly do you beg a self-professed sociopath for cuddles? Part 1 of Dog Days

The Bravery of the Soldier by bakerstreetgirl (G, 101,703 +w., WIP || BAMF John, John in Afghanistan, PTSD, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Sherlock Cares, Epic Bromance, Platonic Soulmates, Platonics, Flashbacks) – When a news story about a hostage situation in Afghanistan breaks, details about John Watson’s military service come to light that the doctor had kept secret for a long time. Sherlock is intrigued and John manages to surprise the British government. What John needs in light of this story and the PTSD responses it flares up, is a friend. Can Sherlock Holmes step up to the job?Deals mainly with John’s career and military background, plus epic friendship, BAMFness and a little bit of case fic. Part 1 of the Before Baker Street series

We Will Survive by anny (M, 105,960 w. || Viclock vs Johnlock, Past Viclock, Anal / BJ’s / Orgasms, Music, Jealousy, Case Fic, Social Media, Protective Mycroft, Pining John / Sherlock, Fluff, Weddings, Drug References, Drunkenness, Angst, Humour, Character Death) – After Reichenbach, Sherlock is back in London to face a new villain: Sebastian Moran. But he has to deal with John’s new life with Mary Morstan, and he soon understands that things between them have changed. With the arrival of Victor Trevor in Sherlock’s life, John will finally deal with his true feelings for Sherlock…

How Long? by TheBritishBourbon (M, 111,010 w. || Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Sherlock, Protective John, PTSD Sherlock, Flashbacks, Dark Themes, Implied Torture) – Sherlock never got to jump off the roof of St. Barts, he never got the chance. Sherlock was abducted and held for 5 years, but now he has escaped. What awaits him as he returns to reality? Part 1 of How Long Universe

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Scotch Series by earlgreytea68 (M, 119,371 w. over 17 works || [Untagged, will tag when read]) – In which Sherlock asks Mycroft for a favor.

Did you feel it? : A soulmates AU by MorganeUK (G, 126,783 w. || Soulmates AU || Kid/Teen/Unilock, Protective Greg, Angst, Big Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mystrade, Injuries, Slow Burn, Anxious John, BAMF John, Protective John, Est. Rel., Happy Ending) – In a world where 0.01% of the population have a soulmate with whom they share pains and violent emotions… what are the odds that an ex-army doctor and an ex-addict detective open their heart and soul enough to found each others?Finally writing a twist on the soulmates trend… Hope you like it!

The Case of the Moebius Trip by Bitenomnom (NR, 129,218 w. || Time Travel, BAMF!John, Angst, Death, Post-TRF) – When John finally gives in and accepts a case for the first time since Sherlock fell eight months ago, he finds himself in a unique position: in possession of what his client calls a time machine, and desperate enough to give it a go. If it works, he could travel back in time. If it works, he could save Sherlock.

“Merry Christmas” I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying “I love you” by starrysummernights (E, 136,580+ w. || WIP, chapter missing? || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again…and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him.John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen {{I haven’t read this one yet so heed the tags}}

Emperor Tales of the Frozen South by cwb (M, 153,444 w. || Penguin AU || Adventure, Rituals, Fluff, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Gay Rights, Bonding, Antartica) – At the bottom of the world, two intrepid explorers make their way in the harshest of environments. An important journey must be taken, and prophecies fulfilled, but not before family meddling, political interference, and self-doubt threaten to alter the future of an entire species.If you know me at all, you know that this had to be done. Part 1 of Emperor Tales of the Frozen South

Skeletons by flawedamythyst (T, 174,262 w. across 3 works || Implied Character Death) – Sherlock’s refusal to talk about his past hides far more skeletons than John could ever have guessed at. Halloween-esque AU.

All the Best and Brightest Creatures by wordstrings (E, 188,426 w. || Case Fic, Action/Adventure, POV First Person, Alternate Canon, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Love at First Sight, Asexuality, Kidnapping, Torture, Drug Use/Addiction) – Sherlock sent Jim Moriarty to prison for killing Carl Powers at age ten. This is the story of the consequences.

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w. || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w. || Winglock, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Mystrade & Johnlock) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humor the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can’t decide what’s worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he’s always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John’s chest?

The Jewel in the Tower by PoppyAlexander (E, 207,079 w. || Dystopian AU, Violence, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mild Dub Con, One World Government, Class Issues, Assassin John / Geisha Sherlock, Self Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Espionage, Miscommunication, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Letters/Texting, Phone Sex, Infidelity, First Time, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Injury Recovery, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Scars, Misgendering, Happy Endings) – In a contemporary dystopia, Unity is peace – despite the fact unsanctioned information, illicit currency, and every sort of danger flows unchecked in the world’s pleasure districts. John Watson, a weary hired gun, is assigned by the mysterious Mentor to investigate a subversive element lurking in the Icehouse, the world’s most famous House of Repose. As accustomed as he is to dealing with the unexpected, John is nevertheless woefully unprepared to meet the gem of the Ice house, Xie, the world renowned “drashaskaya,” the living work of art after which all other drashas are modeled. In sumptuous suites, amid trailing puddles of silk and fervent whispers in the night, John soon learns that nothing is as it seems in the floating world of London’s pleasure district. (PUBLISHED AS “At Night in the Floating World”)

The Good Morrow Series by greywash (E, 216,513 +w. across 5 works || WiP || Post-TRF Divergence, Horny John, Smut, Feelings, Negotiations, Christmas/Advent, Sherlock is a Mess, Relationships, Addiction Issues, PTSD, Therapy, Injury, Aging, Loneliness, Marriage, Family, Friendship, POV Second Person, Travel, Character Studies) – A post-S2 series where everyone has a lot of feels about everything and plausibility is stretched unto breaking. Also: fucking.

You Go To My Head by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 257,765+ w. across 8 Stories, WiP || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Doctor John / Doctor Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson (senior neuroanaesthetist) and Holmes (neurosurgeon).

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. “It is what it is.” John Watson is what happens when what “it is” becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies’ encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

My Heart Is True As Steel by prettysailorsoldier (E, 316,207 w. || Teenlock, Case Fic, Rugby, Fluff, First Kiss/Time, Past Drug Use, Anal, Blow Jobs) – When Sherlock and John become roommates at a prestigious sixth-form college, they both get a lot more than they bargained for. Between Shakespeare, rugby, and not a small amount of murder, it promises to be a very interesting year, but there is much more going on than meets the eye. A noose is tightening around the duo, darker and more dangerous than anyone realizes, and it will take everything they both have to unravel it before they lose everything they’ve found.

NUTRISCO ET EXTINGUO by Zoffoli (M, 327,772 w. || Alternating Second Person POV, Post-TRF, Character Study, Romance, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humour, Mystery) – “You haven’t said what you wanted to say.” Well yes, some things take you by surprise, and you’re not quite prepared for them. Like when your best friend jumps off a building in front of you.

Deflowered - Director’s Cut by Lorelei_Lee (E, 328,535 w. || Mafia / Mob AU || Rape/Non-Con, Dub-Con, Boss John/Rentboy Sherlock, Bottomlock, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous John, Prostate Milking, Sounding, Anal Beads/Plug, Anal Sex / Fingering, Spanking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Riding Crops, Begging, Romance, Desperation, Minor Character Death, Implied Self Harm, Violence) – It should have been strictly business. Being a Mafia boss with a sadistic sexual streak, John had long since realised that his playthings were in it for the money only. Being a masochistic rent boy, Sherlock seemed too good to be true. Little did they know…

The Men Who Talked Between the Words by Odamaki (E, 463,024 w. || Parentlock, UST/URT, Pining Sherlock, Grieving John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Slow Burn/Build, Case Fic, First Kiss / Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide & Drug Use, Slow Burn, Sherlock Whump, Panic Attacks) – John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don’t get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #long fics #novel length fics #100k fics #my fic recs #long post #burdenedwithacurse

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emotionally-imbruised · 6 years ago

Note

🎬, you know it.

Ok, I hate myself for this. I’m sorry idk where this came from, but here you are 😂 I also tried so hard to have this written and posted actually on Valentine’s Day, but it turned out way longer than I was expecting, so my baaaad.

Anywho, here’s my whack at a rom-com au (kinda) from this list of Valentine’s Day prompts

Greased Up Valentine’s Day

In which Harry and Y/N don’t have a regular movie night.

Word count: 12.2k OF NONSENSE

“Hurry up H, it’s starting,” you call to your boyfriend from where you’re sat on the couch. He mumbles an incoherent response from the kitchen where he’s finishing up popping a bag of popcorn, and you roll your eyes before focusing back on the animated intro of Grease that is starting to play on the TV. You hum to the sound of Frankie Valli’s voice as it booms from the television speakers while reaching for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries you picked up from a nearby grocery store to yours and Harry’s shared apartment and take a bite out of it; sighing pleasantly as the flavour envelops your taste buds.

The little old lady selling them at a stand near the grocery stores entrance earlier today lit right up as you approached her and was so excited to talk to you. She seemed very intrigued when you told her your Valentine’s Day plans consisted of a simple night in with the love of your life while watching some of your favourite movies, rather than making a big deal over the whole day. She frowned when you said that though and went into detail about the so-called magic that surrounds the day of love, and how you’ll understand that very soon. You listened to her spiel but didn’t really take any of it to heart as you mentioned you needed to get going so you could beat Harry home.

After stating you’d like to purchase some of the delicious-looking strawberries she was selling, she didn’t let you take one of the packages she had out on display, but rather rushed to the back of the stand where she reached into a cooler and pulled out a completely different container of the chocolate covered fruit to give to you – saying it was her special batch and could “make people fall even more in love by granting their wishes;” to which you couldn’t help but chuckle at. She insisted that you didn’t pay, but you refused to walk away without giving her something for them; so, when she waved goodbye and looked away, you set a ten-dollar bill onto her table before briskly walking away from the stand and blending yourself into the crowd of people headed into the grocery store.

Once you were done buying all the groceries for yours and Harrys dinner tonight, you went back outside half expecting to be sassed by the sweet, yet odd older woman for leaving her money; but to your surprise her and her stand were gone without a trace, as if they’d never been there in the first place. You glanced down at the strawberries you’d packed into one of the bags and shook your head, feeling as if you were going crazy as you made way to your car and called Harry to tell him about what had just happened as you drove home.

Fast forward a couple of hours to present time where you and Harry have already finished making and eating the pasta and salad you bought once he’d gotten home from the studio and are now ready to start your movie night.

“We’ve seen this movie, so many times love, I don’t think it’ll be the end of the world if I miss a bit of the beginning,” Harry’s voice snaps you out of your trance as he appears in front of the television.

You scowl at him as you finish chewing on the piece of strawberry that still fills your mouth, while he chuckles and tosses a piece of popcorn at you. “Hush, and get your butt over here.”

An hour or so later, the two of you are still curled up on the couch, and you find yourself feeling rather sleepy. You fight to keep your eyes open as Frankie Avalon’s presence takes over the screen while singing Beauty School Dropout to Frenchy and lean your head onto Harry’s shoulder, cuddling up against his warm body as you somehow become even more tired. He glances down at you affectionately and smiles to himself as he shifts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you in even closer before reaching for one of the remaining strawberries and taking a bite of it; humming to himself in satisfaction. “What is with these things? They’re so good.”

“Don’t gotta tell me,” you mumble with a small smile dancing across your lips, before allowing a loud yawn escapes your mouth. You snuggle into the blanket that’s wrapped around the two of you even more before abruptly sitting up straight a little bit so you can get a better look at Harry. “Ever wonder what it’d be like to be in the world of Grease?”

“What?” He asks you incredulously as he chuckles at your words. “You feeling alright there, bub?”

He reaches to place his palm against your forehead, but you swat it away; rolling your eyes as his laughs become louder. “Oh, shut up. Breaking out in songs like Summer Nights and We Go Together or having a love like Sandy and Danny would be unreal, and you know it. I wish we could experience it, I think it’d be cool.”

“Whatever you say Y/N,” he jokes and with another sarcastic eye-roll, you allow yourself to lean against him again to watch more of the movie, and soon enough your eyes begin fluttering shut. Soon enough, the two of you eventually pass right out while cuddled up on the couch together.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you fell asleep, but when the noise of multiple voices surrounds you; you think that maybe it’s time to wake up. You slowly open your eyes and let out a loud gasp when you see you aren’t laying on the comfy couch of yours and Harry’s apartment, but rather in the backseat of a car with three girls you’ve never met before.

“Christ Y/N, what was that for?” The brunette with short curly hair in the driver’s seat speaks up as she glares at you in the rear-view mirror.

“She was probably busy daydreaming about seeing her beau Riz, cut her some slack,” the girl sat beside you with longer light brown hair speaks up as she stares at herself in a small compact mirror and finishes touching up her lipstick.

“W-what?” You trip over your words as all three girls look at you now is if you’ve grown a second head, and that’s when you notice it. These girls aren’t just any girls, they’re Rizzo, Marty, and Jan; better known as The Pink Ladies in Grease, and they’ve even got the matching pink jackets to prove it. A surprised breath leaves your mouth as you glance down to see that you’re wearing a similar ensemble to the other three with your pink jacket, soft pink tank top, black pencil skirt, and fancy pair of black flats. Alarmed, you reach over to grab the compact mirror out of Marty’s hand so you can look at yourself and are taken back when you see your reflection. Everything about your face is the same, but with the way your hair is pulled back into a high ponytail with a long pink ribbon wrapped around it, and the soft pink eyeshadow that covers your eyelids; it’s just so different from how you’d dress in real life and it’s throwing you right off. “Oh my god.”

“I wasn’t done with that,” Marty grumbles as she snatches the mirror back and glares at you.

“This, this isn’t real.”

“Real?” Jan questions as she looks over her shoulder and takes a bite of an Oreo she’s holding. “Life isn’t real sweetie.”

“Can it, Jan,” Rizzo snaps before glancing back at you. “And to think we thought you were a normal one of us, but French might have you beat now. What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper mainly to yourself as you glance out the window and a large building with a sign saying Rydell High School in front of it comes into view and can only think of one thing…Holy shit, you’re actually in Grease.

None of the girls say anything as Rizzo turns into the parking lot and pulls up to a vacant space. They each climb out of the pink car and start walking away as you take it all in. This is by far the weirdest dream you’ve ever had because it just seems so real, but before your thoughts can carry you too far away; you snap out of it and rush after The Pink Ladies.

You hear them talking about being seniors and instantly know what scene of the movie you’re in once you catch up to them, just as Marty reaches over to smack Jan and says, “Jan that is so adolescent!”

“We are adolescents,” Jan giggles as she continues nibbling on her Oreo.

“We don’t have to flaunt it,” Rizzo adds before looking back at you. She grabs your arm and gently pulls you between her and Jan to continue walking with them.

“This is going to be our year isn’t Y/N?” Marty asks from the other side of Rizzo.

“Uh, I guess…”

Rizzo just smirks in response to this before slinging the pink jacket she’s carrying over her shoulders, and looking at all of you before strutting forwards a little bit. “Okay girls, let’s go get ‘em.”

The four of you make way through the front doors of the school, earning gazes and particular looks as you all walk past everyone – looking as if you own the place. Everything about this feels so weird and you want nothing more than to just pinch yourself so you can wake up, but just as you consider doing that; an all too familiar British voice speaks up from down the hallway, and your eyes widen.

Leaning against some of the lockers is five boys all wearing different coloured leather jackets with a large T-Birds logo printed on the back. With them, standing awkwardly away from the lockers but looking fine as hell, is a sixth boy that you’d never seen in the movie before but are quick in recognizing to be your boyfriend of many years. You pause slightly and shake your head at the thought as you stare at his greased back curls and shiny leather jacket he wears, one that’s similar to what the other boys are wearing. The dimples that you’ve grown to love so much make themselves known as he smiles at something one of the guys have said, and you have to blink a couple of times to make sure its actually him you’re seeing. “Harry?”

At the sound of your voice, Harry snaps his gaze to yours and his striking green eyes widen once he sees you. Without even thinking, he steps away from the boys and makes way towards you; pushing through The Pink Ladies despite the whines and comments they make at him. The closer he gets, the more relieved you can tell he is to see you as he shakes his head and speaks up. “Y/N? What- you’re here to? I thought this was some weird-ass dream, but now I’m-.”

“Just as confused as I am,” you whisper, and glance at the group of people staring at you over Harry’s shoulder. You bite down on your bottom lip and slowly let your gaze fall back onto your boyfriend before letting out a huff. “Harry, what the hell is going on?”

“I wish I knew love, I just remember us watching the movie and now we’re in it? God, did we take some type of drugs or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of!” Your hushed voice rises as you continue taking in just how obscure all of this is. However, before anything else can be said; the bell rings to indicate that school has started. You look to Harry for an answer because there’s no way in hell that the two of you – two full ass grown adults are expected to go to a high school class; however as Marty marches her way over to you and starts pulling you down the hall and away from Harry; you don’t really get the chance to plan your escape to try and figure a way out of this all. You glance over your shoulder at Harry as he’s surrounded by the other guys, and he soon disappears out of sight as you turn around a corner. You look to Marty; who has now let go of your arm before starting to dig through her purse, and you shake your head again. “Where are we going?”

“Homeroom,” she states as if it should be a known fact and looks at you oddly. “Geez Y/N, are you sure you’re not sick? You’ve been acting really weird today.”

“Uh sorry, yeah I guess maybe I am.” Right? That’s the only logical explanation for all of this.

“Well I’d sure say so,” she mumbles as the two of you reach a door and she pushes it open to strut her way inside, you following right after. You both take a seat at one of the many long tables that fill the classroom and she isn’t long in speaking up again. “So, what’s with you and Styles, huh? I thought you were trying to patch things up with Danny.”

“Danny?” You ask skeptically and think back to how he was amongst the other T-Birds leaning against the lockers watching you and Harry moments ago. “There’s nothing between Danny and me, isn’t he with Sandy? Oh wait, he doesn’t know she’s here yet, does he?”

You feel as if you’re finally adapting to how this entire dream is going to work out and end up just like the movie. It has to, and ideally, by the end of it, you and Harry will be out of this weird alternate universe. As you think about how the entirety of the movie plays out, and how you and Harry are going to wake up from this as if nothing ever happened; you can’t help but sigh in relief until you look over at Marty to see her staring back at you with a confused expression. “Who is Sandy?”

“Danny’s girlfriend…”

“No, you’re Danny’s girlfriend.”

“Pardon?” You ask disbelievingly. “No, I’m not.” Danny isn’t real, you think to yourself, none of this is – but yet, everything else that has happened so far has proved you wrong; so you know it is brave of you to assume otherwise.

“Ok well maybe, not technically,” she agrees but isn’t long in justifying her argument. “But you’re the one who broke his heart at the beginning of summer, remember? I don’t know why though because literally, everyone wanted to have a relationship like the two of you had.”

“Marty, I actually have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Ok, then I’ll show you,” she responds before standing up from her seat and walking towards the back of the room. You watch as she goes up to one of the bookcases and grabs one of the many yearbooks that line the shelves. Once she finds the one she’s looking for, she takes it off the shelf and walks back towards you; tossing it on the table in front of you with a loud thud, before sitting back down. “There’s last semesters yearbook, take a look for yourself.”

You look at her skeptically before sliding the yearbook towards you and opening it up. Amongst the first couple of pages you see pictures of many familiar faces of the people you know as the main characters of this movie; however, pictured with them is you and Harry, and in almost all of them you’re cuddled up against Danny Zuko’s side while he has his arm draped around your shoulder. As you flip through the pages, there’s even more evidence of what Marty said to actually be true, and it’s freaking you the hell out. This dream you thought you were living is turning to be much more than what you bargained for, and with that; you start panicking. “There’s no way.”

Without another word, you slam the book shut and begin pinching yourself. Marty clearly seems to think you’ve gone crazy by the look that’s written across her face, and quickly reaches over to grab onto your wrist so she can stop your actions. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Trying to wake up,” you mutter as you move your free arm to start pinching your opposite shoulder again. “Maybe if I pinch hard enough, it’ll work.”

“Can you stop?” Marty hisses and grabs ahold of your other hand. “You’re not dreaming, this is all real and people are going to think you’ve damn near lost it.”

“Well, I pretty much am feeling as though I have Marty,” you snap, and she lets out a huff.

“Let’s just drop it then,” she states with a defeated sigh and moves away. “Class is starting, can you at least try to act normal? People are looking at us weird.”

You mimic her tone under your breath as more people file into the room, and Sonny — one of the T-Birds, makes his way to the two of you and strikes up a conversation. You unintentionally drown out his voice as morning announcements start sounding over the PA system, and glance down at the yearbook; deciding to flip through it once again.

The way you and Harry look so naturally positioned in the pictures with everyone else truly blows your mind. Some of the photos show the two of you at school events, him working in the school’s auto shop, you sitting at lunch with Rizzo, Marty, Jan and Frenchy, and even your class picture amongst everyone else that is apparently in your grade.

This is all becoming so confusing. With all the times you’ve watched Grease before — you know that with everything that’s happening, it doesn’t add up to how the actual movie goes, and that has you wondering. Before you know it, you’ve mindlessly reached the end of the yearbook and are on the pages where students would normally sign their autographs; but this one doesn’t have any. Instead, it’s has only one message scribbled across the whole page in very unique writing.

“An alternate universe is what you wished for, so an alternate universe is what you’ll get. But make sure the story ends the way it’s supposed to, or else it’ll be something that you soon regret. – A friend.”

You stare at the page blankly and silently read the message over and over again, until you soak it all in. Was this some kind of sick joke? When the hell did you wish for something like this to happen? There’s just something about the message that makes you think it was specifically written for you to read, and that thought alone makes you anxious.

Your mind starts thinking back to when you and Harry were cuddled up on the couch watching this movie and you said that being in this movie world would be unreal before technically wishing to be in it. Is that why you’re here now? But why? How? Clearly, this isn’t a dream, this is really happening; but how are you supposed to get back home? All of these thoughts are racing through your mind, but before you know it; the bell rings again to indicate that class is over and you are unable to dig much deeper into the thought of it.

Apparently, the majority of your morning classes are with Marty, but there’s also one you share with Jan, a couple of the T-Birds, but none with Harry. It seems like time is flashing by and you can’t keep track of it. Those classes however, come and go in a whirlwind and soon enough… it’s time for lunch.

You and Jan take a seat in the outdoor cafeteria as you wait for Marty and Rizzo, who are still waiting in line for their food. Jan immediately starts digging into her spaghetti, whereas you just push the noodles around your plate instead of eating any of it. After taking in all that has happened, food is the last thing you’re thinking about at the moment and you remain silent until two familiar voices start singing from a few feet away. You look over to see Rizzo and Marty approaching the table, shimmying as they both finish the little song they’re singing and take a seat next to you and Jan.

Without missing a beat, Jan looks at the two and is the first to say anything. “Hey, did you guys get a look at Zuko this morning? Looking pretty good this year, huh Riz?”

The way she moves the sunglasses that cover her face up and down suggestively makes you recognize the exact scene from the movie that you’re now in, and you know exactly what’s to come after.

“That’s ancient history,” Rizzo states before glancing at you. “That was before him, and Y/N were an item.”

“Well, history can repeat itself,” Marty pipes in and nudges you with her elbow. “Besides, Y/N wants nothing to do with Danny anymore, she’s already moved on.”

“With who?” A voice gasps and your gaze snaps up to that of a girl with dyed ginger hair, and a blonde-haired girl trailing right after her; who you instantly recognize as Frenchy and Sandy.

“Harry,” Marty states and all the girl’s ooh.

“Well that was fast,” French responds and motions for Sandy to sit down.

“It really wasn’t,” you grumble to yourself while thinking of how long you and Harry have been together in real life, which luckily no one hears.

Frenchy starts introducing the four of you to Sandy and going off about how she had just moved here from Australia, just like she does in the movie. You watch the scene unfold in front of you and are too shook to say anything as they all continue on their conversation word for word, all while you’re here living it with them. Everything down to Rizzo sassing Marty about her glasses, and Patty Simcox coming up to excitedly explain how she’s been nominated vice president is the same and you just can’t help but stare.

Patty invites herself to sit down next to Sandy and lets out a scream as she sits down on an apple left there by Jan, while the four other Pink Ladies huddle together and motion for you to join as Frenchy asks if you all think Sandy has what it takes to be a Pink Lady.

The entire scene has you wondering where in the hell Harry could be in all of this, but if your memory is correct – which it is; he has to be on the bleachers with the T-Birds eating lunch and… oh god, they’re going to break out in song any minute.

As if on cue, Frenchy speaks up again to ask Sandy what she did this past summer.

“Oh, I spent it on the beach, I met a boy there,” the blonde responds, and you press your fingers to your temples as it feels like your mind is about to explode.

“It’s happening,” you whisper as Rizzo makes a comment about Sandy being ridiculous for being so strung up on a guy she met on the beach, and Sandy dismissing her while stating how romantic it was. A distinctive guitar riff starts playing from God knows where and right after, Sandy starts singing her part of one of your favourite songs from this damn movie; Summer Nights.

In some type of crazy unnatural way, you can hear Danny’s voice in the distance as he sings his part of the song and you slowly stand from the table and back away as all the girls in the cafeteria join with Sandy for the musical number…

This is it. You’ve officially gone crazy and this dream world has become a nightmare. You watch in complete awe as the whole girl’s part of Summer Nights plays out in front of you, and only one thought plagues your mind; you need to find Harry and get the hell out of here now.

Without a second thought, you take off in a sprint away from the commotion just as Marty asks Sandy if this guy – who you know to be Danny, has a car before continuing on with the song. You shake your head as you struggle to run in the long pencil skirt you’re wearing and earn dirty looks from the people you rush by. It doesn’t take long for you to become confused as to why these people are so taken back by you running past them, but unfazed by the random song that just broke out and can seemingly be heard from wherever you are in this place? Bullshit, absolute bullshit.

You’re not really sure where you’re going seeing as you don’t know the layout of the school, but get a pretty good feeling that you’re going the right way as the boy’s voices grow louder, and the girls become a little quieter. A moment later, you turn around a corner and reach a part of the school that overlooks the track field, and sure enough, in the distance is Harry standing on the bleachers with all of the guys looking shocked and unsure of what to do.

With a quick breath, you try to make it down the stairs towards the field as fast as possible without falling, so you can get across the field to your boyfriend and try to figure something out. You watch as all the boys – minus Harry, move across the bleachers in a perfect sequence of one another, and think of how normally you’d appreciate this part of the movie; but right now, you’ve got more important things to worry about.

Some boys who are running on the track look at you oddly as you crash through the gate at the bottom of the steps and mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ as you weave through them. Someone… that you think to be Coach Calhoun yells at you in the distance to get off the track, but you ignore them as you get closer to the bleachers just as Rizzo’s voice sounds in the distance saying how the guy they’re singing about sounds like a drag, and the boys break out into the shoo-bop-bop part of the song while they start shuffling across the bleachers in unison.

You finally reach the bottom of the bleachers and think you’re close enough to get Harry’s attention now. Although you have to lean against the fencepost to catch your breath for a moment, you’re quick in calling out to your boyfriend so he can realize he’s not alone in all this craziness. “H! Harry, over here!”

His green eyes snap to yours instantly, and he wastes no time in rushing over to where you’re standing. A small sigh relief leaves your mouth as he reaches you and immediately pulls you into his chest for a tight hug, smiling as you melt into his touch while he starts muttering some words. “Fuck, I didn’t even know where to look for you in this place. All of them would look at me as if I was crazy for wondering where you were… m’just- I don’t know what to do in all of this Y/N, this is a lot to take in.”

“I know, but we’re going to figure this out together,” you tell him reassuringly as you move away slightly and grab ahold of his hands. You look over his shoulder as everyone on the bleachers keep dancing away, and start pulling him away from them. “Come with me.”

You lead him around the side of the bleachers and move underneath them so you two can talk in private without getting noticed by any of the T-Birds. Once you’re both out of sight, you turn around to face him just as he’s pushing a hand over his slicked curls. “Y/N, I feel crazy for even thinking about it, let alone saying it out loud but this movie… it’s the same, but different. Like there’s something completely off about it all, and I’m not talking about the part of how we both magically appeared here. It’s just not adding up and God, what the hell is all this?”

“I’m not sure, ok?!” You unintentionally yell at him; regretting your words as you feel the tears prick your eyes almost immediately, and start feeling bad for taking your frustrations out on the last person who deserves it. With a sigh of defeat, once you see the hurt expression that flashes across his features, you start looking anywhere but his eyes before speaking up again. “I-I’m sorry H, I just- I don’t know… But I’m more than positive that all of this is happening because of me – it’s all my fault.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/N- love, there’s no possible way this is your fault,” he tells you soothingly, but a choked sob still manages to escape your mouth. He watches as the tears begin streaming down your face before stepping towards you and wasting no time in lacing his hands with yours so he can gently pull you against his chest again. You instantly melt into his touch as he begins rubbing soft circles on the small of your back and can feel you yourself starting to calm down. “It’s insane that we ended up here yes, but it’s just the movie, right? Maybe all we have to do is make it to the end before being sent back to our real lives.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy H,” you tell him as you move away from his embrace.

“And why is that?”

“Well, like you said, the movie itself is the same… but it’s also different,” you begin to explain while he looks at you curiously. “We changed it by showing up here.”

“We couldn’t have changed it too much bub,” he states with a slight smirk. “Everything that has happened so far goes perfectly along with the movie, right down to the random breaking out in song during unnecessary times.”“Not everything is the same though Harry, and I think that’s our key in getting out of here.”

He looks at you skeptically before letting out a breath and running a hand over his grease slicked hair. “Alright, you’ve officially lost me.”

“When I was in class with Marty earlier, I found a note,” you explain, and he nods as if silently telling you to continue. “It was in the back of a yearbook and it basically said if the movie doesn’t end the way it’s supposed to, we’re gonna regret it.”

“Ok, but what does that mean love?” He asks with a slightly aggravated tone. “Like I said, the movie has been pretty on track so far… It mustn’t be too difficult to make it stay that way.”

“But that’s the thing H, it may not to stay on track and that’s what we have to worry about. We’ve altered everything just by being here, who are we to say more won’t change the longer we’re here? There might be setbacks we’ll have to face because of it.”

“What kind of setbacks?”

“Well…” You trail off slightly as you think back to what Marty said about you and Danny, as well as all those pictures to prove it. “Apparently I’m the ex-girlfriend of one of the main characters who broke his heart before summer, and now everyone is expecting us to get back together; including him.”

He doesn’t say anything as he stares back at you with complete and utter confusion until a small smile dances across his lips and he lets out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s funny.”

“It’s not meant to be a joke, Harry, I’m serious.”

“How can you be serious when none of this is real, Y/N?” He snaps, and you find yourself flinching at his tone. You stare at him with wide eyes and see how he already feels bad. “Wait, I didn’t mean to snap I-.”

“If none of this is real, then why are we still here, Harry?” You ask through gritted teeth. “Why aren’t we at home where we should be hmm? This isn’t how dreams work, this is actually happening, and I’m going to figure out how to get us out of here whether you help me or not.”

“Babe, you know I’m going to help you regardless. We’re in this together,” he reasons with you and reaches out to grab your hand. “I just- m’not a fan of hearing there’s this other guy that’s gonna try to take you away from me… Even if he isn’t real, it all still rubs me the wrong way.”

“There is nothing for you to worry about H, I’m all yours. Have been for a really long time now and even a young seventies sexy has hell John Travolta acting as one of my favourite characters in one of my favourite movies can change that, ok?”

“Ok,” he replies with a soft smile before leaning down to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips attached to yours, and hum in satisfaction. That’s always something you’ve loved Harry for being able to do. It doesn’t matter how crazy or stressful the situation is, he always knows what to do or say so that the two of you can keep a level head and not take it out on each other. After a moment he pulls away and smirks down at you before mumbling something else. “Just had to throw in young John Travolta being sexy didn’t yeh?”

“Well of course,” you tell him with a smirk before standing on your tip toes so you can peck his lips again. “But that’s beside the point because I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you how good you look in that leather jacket yet.”

Your boyfriend smirks and goes to respond, but before he can say anything else, someone clears their throat from nearby and both of you snap your attention towards them. You were both so caught up talking with each other that you didn’t realize the song had ended, and your bickering was more than likely to be heard; which just with your luck, has now attracted the attention of all the T-Birds as they have now made their way behind the bleachers to see what the commotion was all about. Harry gives you a sideways glance before straightening out his posture a little bit and speaking up with a nod. “Boys.”

“So, it is true,” Danny speaks first, causing you to cringe slightly as you can sense a bit of hostility in his tone. “The two of you really are a thing.”

“Geez Styles, you sure wasted no time in swooping in on that one,” Kenickie mutters as he puffs on a cigarette and leans his elbow onto Danny’s shoulder. “Thought you and Danny were going to work on things Y/N?”

You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that leaves your mouth at his comments and have to roll your eyes as all of them, except Harry, stares at you with rather dirty looks. “Oh, come on, you can’t seriously think I’m a bad guy in this situation. Danny you literally just sang a whole song about a different girl you wanted to bone all summer.”

“Bone?” Doody asks confused, and you mentally smack yourself because there’s no way these guys would know what that means.

“Wait, that wasn’t about Y/N?” Sonny chimes in.

“Well… no,” Danny responds sheepishly, and all you can think is – you fuckboy. “It was a girl I met on the beach, but it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that lad,” Harry mumbles from beside you, and you send him a warning glare as all of them look at you confusedly.

“What Harry is trying to say,” you start with a forced smile. “Is that anything could happen… even the craziest of things that you’d never expect in a million years to happen, like getting sucked into a movie; but you know, that’s life.”

“What?” All five boys ask in unison, and you grit your teeth for letting yourself rant about your current predicament like that.

“Nothing. But anyways, Danny what I’m trying to say is I moved on, and you should most definitely keep your options open and allow yourself to do so as well, maybe your dream girl is right around the corner.”

“Ooh well played,” Harry whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Doubtful,” Danny grumbles. “Doesn’t matter anyways, let’s go guys.”

All the boys start walking away and wave for Harry to join them. He looks at it hesitantly, but you just nod as a way to tell him you’ll be fine on your own. “Go with them and just make sure everything stays the way it’s supposed to, I’ll make sure nothing more changes with the girls either and we’ll be out of here before we know it… hopefully.”

“Ok,” he agrees softly and places a kiss to your temple before stepping away. He makes it a few steps before glancing over his shoulder and winking at you. “You look hot in fifties clothes by the way.”

“Get out of here,” you tell him with a broad smile before letting out a huff and making way back towards the school.

If there’s one thing you’ve managed to pick up on by being in this movie, it’s that time really doesn’t matter. Things that would normally consume a good amount of time in your reality passes by in a matter of seconds here, and it’s quite dizzying. That being said, after meeting up with all the girls after leaving Harry and the boys; the rest of the day flew right by.

It’s now the evening and you’re sat on the back of Rizzo’s car with her, Frenchy, Jan and Marty as you all watch Sandy cheer in the school’s pep rally. After spending the day with all of them, you’ve gotten to know the girls pretty well and find that it’s actually kind of fun experiencing the whole movie world with them – but you also know that this can’t last forever and yearn to be home even more with each passing minute.

You’re fully aware of the plans Rizzo has to take Sandy to where Danny is with Harry and all the other boys as a surprise, and you just can’t help but sit back and watch in awe as every little thing happens the exact same way; just with you part of it. Once Sandy joins the five of you, you all make way to where the T-Birds are. You think of exactly how the next few minutes are about to play out and are less than impressed by how Danny is a complete asshole to Sandy after realizing they are in the same place again, just like he is in the movie.

You watch with pursed lips behind the girls slightly as it all unfolds but snap out of your daze once Harry steps beside you and nudges your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you tell him just as Sandy storms away upset after being treated like trash by Danny and the boys start praising him for being a jerk. You look at Rizzo – who just smirks to herself for planning all of this, and you know it’s just part of the movie, but man does it sucks seeing someone get treated like that. So, you feel like you need to speak up about it. “Actually no, I’m not. Hey Danny?”

“Yeah,” he responds arrogantly and turns around to face you.

“You’re a real dick, you know that, right?” You snap on him, and everyone looks at you in surprise. Your gaze moves to all the boys standing behind him, and you start going off on them too. “You guys as well for feeding him on like that. Oh, and you too Riz, it’s pretty pathetic that you go out of your way to do something so mean to a person. Geez, grow up – you’re all high school seniors for fuck sake.”

They all stare at you blankly as you let out a huff and grab hold of Harry’s hand so you can storm away with him in tow. You make it a couple of feet before he lets go to rush in front of you; causing you to almost full-on crash into his chest because of how unfocused you were on him. “Woah, hey, that was… that was really brave of you to stand up to them like that Y/N. M’really glad to see you’re still the firecracker I fell in love with, even here.”

“Yeah, sorry for your loss.” You smirk as he wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

“What do you say we get out of here, hmm? Clear our minds up a little bit.”

“How do we plan on doing that?”

“Turns out I have an old cool car in this world too,” he tells you with a wink. You look up at him with a soft smile before nodding in agreement and allowing him to lead you towards a nice-looking black car waiting at the back of the lot. Some voices sound to your right and you can see Frenchy consoling Sandy a couple of feet away, smiling to yourself again when she tells Sandy she could use a girl’s night.

“You’re lucky, I love you. I’m missing out on seeing Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee and Hopelessly Devoted To You in person now because of you.”

“But I’m hopelessly devoted to you my love; and would much rather spend my night alone with you, isn’t that any consolation?”

“Yeah ok smartass,” you murmur jokingly and pull him in for a kiss, before climbing into his car and driving off. You and Harry spend the majority of the night sitting in the diner drinking milkshakes and just talking – mainly about how much you’re both missing your lives at home. It was nice spending time just the two of you, but neither of you knew exactly where to go afterwards seeing as you don’t actually live in this world; so you both settle on sleeping in Harry’s car on the oddly comfortable backseat. You start the night off cuddling but that soon escalates, and before you know it, you’re waking up to the sun beaming inside of the car. The rays dance over the small blanket that covers both of yours tangled legs, up to where Harry’s T-Bird jacket lays to keep from showing off too much of your exposed upper body and chest; causing you to groan to yourself slightly.

“Another quick round before school?” Harry asks suggestively from beside you with his deep sleep-filled voice. You scoff in response but with the way he starts peppering your neck with kisses – you’re not long in succumbing to his advances.

“As long as we find a place to shower afterward.”

About an hour and a half later, you and Harry walk out of gym locker room showers in at school while trying to act as normal and casual as can be without drawing too much to yourselves; before setting out the rest of the entire crew. You brush out some of the wrinkles of the new top and skirt you wear with your Pink Ladies jacket that you conveniently found in Harry’s trunk, just as everyone in your group seemingly comes bursting through the doors at once before whisking you and Harry away from one another.

Later in the day, you and Frenchy are walking to class together just as some familiar voices sound from down a hallway, and you pause to listen to them. Frenchy stops a few feet ahead of you after realizing you’re no longer beside her, and slowly shuffles back while looking at you curiously. “You ok there, Y/N?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you tell her with a smile as you look between her and the hallway the voices continue coming from. “Hey French, what’s down there?”

“Oh, that’s the auto-shop. The boys are probably there now.”

“No way,” you exclaim as you know that the boys are about to start singing Greased Lightnin’, and you want nothing more to see Harry take part in that. Without a second thought, you grab hold of Frenchy’s hand and start dragging her towards the source of the noise.

“Where are we going?” She asks between some chuckles as you continue pulling her.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

The two of you reach the end of the hallway where you push open a door and walk to a railing that overlooks the whole auto-shop. Frenchy looks down at the boys and is about to say something, but you shush her just as the boys break out in song again.

You’re still unsure of where the hell the music comes from but brush it off as you and Frenchy watch in pure amusement while the guys dance around singing about what they’re going to do to Kenickie’s car; including Harry. Small laughs leave your mouth as you watch Harry dance alongside Putzie, Sonny and Doody to the entirety of the song; showing off the dance moves he knows just by how much you’ve made him watch Grease. Frenchy seems to be enjoying herself too as they finish up the song and you quickly start pulling her out of the shop before any of them realize that the two of you were there.

The next few days er-weeks in movie time are spent just letting the film play itself out. Although you’re starting to get tired of sleeping in the back of Harry’s car every night and using the school showers to clean yourselves off, you’ve slowly started adapting to this world and what it entails. You learned that every day without fail, a new outfit just magically appears in Harry’s trunk for you each to wear; and you’ve gotten to the point where you’ve stopped questioning everything and are now just letting it happen because you will probably go mad while thinking of how something like that is remotely possible.

You and Harry have agreed to just go with the flow of the movie and only stepping in to make sure things stay on track if need be. You’re both just sitting back and relaxing, watching everything unfold and being quite entertained by it all; especially after witnessing Danny’s attempts at picking up on a sport in order to win Sandy over again and get her to go to the school dance with him. You’ve both even become friends with all of the characters as well. Harry tells you about what he did that day with the guys each night, while you tell him how you’re really getting along with the girls and feel as if you’re able to confide in them; especially Frenchy.

Soon enough, it’s the night of said school dance; one of the best parts of the movie, and one of the most dramatic. Harry is pretty adamant on not dancing whatsoever, but you egg him on about it until he finally agrees to the two of you slow dancing together to the version of Those Magic Changes the band plays and taking part in the dance line to Tears On My Pillow alongside all of your friends.

As the song comes to an end, Principal McGee and Coach Calhoun make their way to the stage to discuss the expectations of the dance and how it’ll all be filmed on national television. Principal McGee explains how she will not be judging the dance competition that’s about to happen, but rather the infamous celebrity in the world of Grease; Vince Fontaine. Everyone erupts in excited cheers as they know they’re about to see this huge celebrity, and you casually glance up at Harry with a smile before elbowing him gently until he looks down at you. “Vince is the movie equivalent to you in real life.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at your comment, but you notice the arrogant smirk dancing across his lips.

Once the rules of the dance competition are explained and the television cameras start rolling in order to film it all, you drag Harry to the dance floor where he has no other choice but to dance along to Elvis’ Hound Dog with you. Despite his complaining, Harry is quick on matching the steps of the people around you and seems to actually be having fun.

You glance to your right to see Frenchy and Doody laughing while dancing together, and the same coming from Jan and Putzie to your left. Marty is to the side, ignoring Sonny, while Danny and Sandy dance their way next to you; sending wide smiles as they do so. Vince Fontaine goes on the stage and starts talking again before the band starts playing Born to Hand Jive, and you and Harry decide to sit this one out.

The two of you stand on the sidelines watching as your friends dance their hearts out to this particular song and can’t help but laugh a little with how offended some of them get by being eliminated from the competition. Harry smirks at you while you find yourself smiling and dancing to the music, however, a slight movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention and you quickly glance over your shoulder to see what it was. Standing behind the crowd observing everyone while dressed up like a janitor much to your surprise, is the old lady who was selling the chocolate covered strawberries outside the grocery store on Valentine’s Day.

“Who are you looking at?” Harry asks while turning to see what it is that’s grabbed your attention.

“That lady,” you tell him and shake your head disbelievingly. “The janitor, she’s the one who sold me those strawberries back home.”

“The one that said all those weird things about Valentine’s Day?” He questions and you nod frantically. As if being able to hear your conversation, the lady’s eyes widen once she sees you and Harry both staring at her before spinning around on one heel and disappearing down the corridor.

“C’mon let’s follow her,” you say before taking off after her; Harry right with you as you go. The two of you enter the hallway to see her shuffling away as fast as she can – watching as she jumps slightly when you call out to her. “Hey, wait!”

She slowly comes to a stop before turning around to face you, smiling as she does so. “Hello, dear.”

“You… all of this is happening because of you, isn’t it?” You question and cautiously step towards her. “It all makes sense now. The strawberries, the whole Valentine’s Day spiel, the being sucked into a freaking movie for fuck sake… it’s all because of you.”

She lets out a breath before nodding her head in agreement. “You caught on a lot sooner than I anticipated.”

“What- how can you even say that?” You snap and feel Harry places his hand on your back as a source of comfort. “You-you just stepped in and messed with my life. I didn’t ask for this, I don’t understand why-.”

“Do the two of you love each other?” She cuts you off, and you squint your eyes at her.

“What?”

“Do the two of you love each other?” She repeats and steps towards the two of you.

“Well yeah, of course, we do,” Harry speaks up. “I love Y/N more than she’ll ever know.”

“Good. And what about you, dear, do you love him?”

“More than anything,” you state as a smile dances across the lady’s mouth. “But why does that matter?”

“The two of you were just put through a major test that many people would be at each other’s throats about by now,” she explains. “The concept of being sucked into a fictional universe is so obscure and unrealistic that many would freak out at even the thought, but not you two. The both of you worked together to make the most out of hand you were dealt, adapting to something so surreal to you, but not letting it effect those who don’t know any different from what rights in front of them.”

She’s talking about your friends, and your heart drops at the thought of it. The T-Birds and Pink Ladies have been completely oblivious to any of this because this has become their reality, a reality that you and Harry are very much a part of now. You shake your head at the thought before looking back at the lady and letting out a chopped breath. “But why, why us?”

“I thought you could use some Valentine’s Day magic,” she responds before turning around and beginning to make way down the hallway again. You watch her make it a few steps before stepping forward yourself and speaking again.

“But how do we get home?”

“Make it to the end of the movie,” she states with a shrug. “Get the ending back on track.”

“It’s already on track,” Harry explains. “Nothing has happened that could possibly change the movies ending now.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she replies before tilting her chin upwards to motion behind the two of you, before disappearing around a corner.

You and Harry glance at each other confused beyond belief of what to do next, but before you can even think up a plan; a soft familiar voice speaks up from behind you. “Guys?”

Your heart plummets into the pit of your stomach as you and Harry slowly turn around to face your friends staring back at you with hurt expressions.

“What do you mean home?” Doody asks first.

“You guys lied to us?” Jan adds in as well, and you feel your heart sinking even more. “Who are you two?”

“Jan we’re still us,” you desperately try to explain as you feel the tears pooling in your eyes. “We’re just not… we’re not the Harry and Y/N you think we are. We don’t belong here.”

“And where exactly is it that you belong then?” Sonny speaks up.

“Far from here,” Harry starts. “You would never believe us if we told you.”

“Try us,” Putzie challenges.

“W-we’re from a different universe,” you explain and feel even crazier as you do so. “This whole world we’re in isn’t our own. Harry and I live in a reality where this is a movie to all of us who live there.”

“So, you’re saying we don’t exist in your world?” Marty asks, still looking confused as ever.

“The actors that play you do, but this,” Harry says and gestures to your surroundings. “This is all part of the movie world.”

The six of your friends that stand in front of you start talking about how ridiculous that all is, and you feel a pressure building on your chest as you watch it all unfold and Sonny finally speaks up again. “Maybe you both should just go back to your little world then seeing as you care so little for ours.”

“That’s not true,” you plead with them and feel the tears streaming down your cheeks now. “You guys have become our friends. This whole thing has been bearable because of all of you, we wouldn’t have been able to figure anything out if it weren’t for you guys letting us in.”

“Well, you can figure the rest out on your own,” Putzie states. “Have a nice trip back to wherever you two are going.”

You watch with a heavy heart as they all send you one last hurt glance before turning around and going back towards the dancefloor; all except Frenchy. A soft sob leaves your mouth as the girl who you’ve become closest with looks back at you with watery eyes. You wipe a tear away before stepping towards her but cringe slightly as she steps back. “French, please let me explain.”

“What is there to explain Y/N?” She asks with a shaky voice. “You lied to us. What did you plan on doing when you reached the end of the movie, huh? Just disappear with no explanation of why? A real friend doesn’t do that if we were actually friends, maybe you would’ve asked us for help.”

“Frenchy, it really isn’t that simple-.”

“Save it Y/N. I hope you guys get back to wherever home is safe. It was nice knowing ya.” And with that, she sends you both a sad smile before disappearing around the corner with everyone else.

You stare at the now empty hallway for a moment before Harry pulls you into his chest and starts rubbing your back while choked sobs leave your mouth. “H, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know bub, but we’ll figure something out,” he tells you soothingly all while feeling rather shitty about this whole thing as well. “C’mon lets get out of here.”

You and Harry go the next few days/weeks… you’re not sure; without any communication from any of your friends. They all go out of their way ignore the both of you in the hallways, at the drive-in, everywhere and it becomes increasingly difficult to not be able to speak with those who helped you adapt to this world, but there isn’t much you can really do.

The day of the big race at Thunder Road; the race all the boys were fixing up Kenickie’s car for, comes up very fast and you can tell Harry is a little bummed he’s not going to be there to watch his friend win a race with the car he helped fix for it. You watch silently as he pushes around the food on his plate while the two of you are sat in the diner and let out a huff.

You both decided to skip school for the day to clear your minds about everything, and just with watching him quietly sulk to himself; you relate more to when he said comfortable silence is so overrated more than ever. You bite down on your lip as you start feeling sorry for him, before reaching across the table to lace your fingers with his. “H?”

He hums in response but doesn’t make eye contact before some loud, obnoxious voices speak up from a couple of tables away from yours. The two of you glance over at the guys sitting nearby discussing the race at Thunder Road, but these aren’t just any ordinary guys – they’re The Scorpions; the rivals of the T-Birds.

“When they show up, I’m gonna distract them,” the leader of the group tells the other guys. “And then when they’re not looking, I need one of you guys to cut the breaks on Kenickie’s car. Can’t have them winning on our own turf.”

“H, if they do that… Danny won’t win the race,” you whisper to your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. “If that happens, Danny could get hurt but-.”

“It also changes how the movies could end,” he finishes for you, and you bite down on your lip again. “Fuck Y/N, we need to warn them. Not only could this be our last chance at getting home, but that’s also our friends out there.”

“I know,” you tell him with a nod before standing up and pulling him with you. “Come on, before it’s too late.”

The two of you rush back to Rydell High, but much to your dismay; everyone has already left to get to Thunder Road. As you and Harry look at each other unsure of what to do next, you see Sandy talking to Rizzo and are surprised when Sandy lights up once she locks eyes with you. “Harry, Y/N, are you two going to Thunder Road by chance? I really need to talk to Danny.”

“Yeah,” you respond and earn an eye roll from Rizzo. “But we don’t know how to get there, Riz do you?”

“Why would I tell you? Haven’t the two of you done enough already? Also, why would you care, this isn’t even your world.”

“Actually Riz, we just overheard The Scorpions plan to cut the breaks on Kenickie’s car; so yeah, you may all hate us – but at least we’re trying to make sure no one is hurt,” you tell her firmly and in all the time you’ve spent in this movie; you see Rizzo speechless.

“Sandy knows how to get there,” she responds, and you nod. “You guys stay safe out there too.”

“Come on we don’t have much time,” Sandy speaks up and starts walking towards the parking lot.

Harry grabs onto your hand to lead you towards the car, but you pause slightly to look back at the leader of The Pink Ladies. “Thanks, Riz, also I know what people are saying about you around the school. Don’t take it too much to heart… you’ll know why soon enough.”

“I forgot about the whole everyone thinking she was pregnant part,” Harry mumbles into your ear as the two of you head after Sandy.

“Yeah,” you tell him softly. “Rizzo means well, as a friend… I don’t want her to beat herself up, you know?”

“I know,” he replies and places a soft peck to your temple before breaking away from you so the three of you can hop into his car and get to Thunder Road.

There’s already a good crowd of people gathered once you get there, and it’s clear that Kenickie and Danny are arguing with the Scorpions in the centre of it all. Away from the commotion, a lone Scorpion is sneaking around the back of Kenickie’s car with a pair of wire cutters in hand and you’ve never seen Harry floor it as hard as he does in that moment. The car skids to a stop once you’re closer to the group and the two of you are quick in climbing out of the vehicle in order to stop the guy. You’ve caught everyone’s attention at this point, but don’t let it faze you as you walk right up to the guy crouching on the ground, still out of sight from everyone else and snatch the wire cutter out of his hands.

“I’ll take those,” you state with a sarcastic grin as surprised gasps and voices sound from around you.

“That guy was going to cut the breaks,” Doody speaks up, and more chatter rises.

“Yeah, and I would have gotten away with it,” the Scorpion snaps, before standing up and glaring at you.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry steps in, before looking him up and down. “Now step away from my girl and get out of my face.”

“Wow, these guys really are rubbing off on you huh,” you say to him quietly as the guy marches back over to his group.

“Whatever,” he replies with a laugh. Soon enough, the two of you are surrounded by your entire friend group; minus Sandy and Rizzo and they all stare at you with wide eyes.

“You two just saved Danny’s life,” Marty is the first to say something.

“Boy are we glad you guys decided to show up,” Putzie adds before gripping onto Harry’s hand and pulling him in for a bro hug.

You watch as all the guys huddle around Harry and smile to yourself fondly as they all greet him like an old friend. You’re about to step away and let them have their moment before Jan speaks up.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” She asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well I-,” you ramble as Marty grabs onto your hand and pulls you towards one of the many cars nearby.

“You’re gonna watch the race with all of us, right?” The brunette questions with a smile.

“Of course,” you respond as Jan and Frenchy join the two of you.

You look at your orange-haired friend before she sends you a broad smile, before giving you a sideways hug. “Glad to have you back, Y/N. The Pink Ladies felt empty without you.”

With a small smile to yourself and a knowing wink from Harry; you feel better than you have recently with everything that’s gone on. You didn’t really think of it all that much before, but you really are going to miss all these people when you have to leave… If you can leave.

Not much else is said as everyone gets into position, and the race starts. The race plays out just as it does in the movie with The Scorpion leader playing dirty, but Danny turning it around and beating him. Everyone rushes to Danny’s parked car to congratulate him for winning once it’s all done, but you and Harry find yourselves standing back from them.

“Looks like we’re going home soon now, huh?” Your boyfriend asks.

“I guess so,” you respond while scrunching up your face. “Kind of bittersweet.”

“I know, but this isn’t our life to be living in anymore.”

“Can you stop being right all the time?” You start dramatically while he just laughs. “It’s annoying.”

“Can’t, sorry,” he tells you with a shrug, and you swat his arm. “Let’s get out of here though, the carnival scene awaits.”

The next day you’re sitting in class with Marty as Principle McGee is giving her announcement over the PA system to the graduating class. It absolutely blows your mind how everything that has happened took place over eight months…. When really, it’s only been about an hour and thirty minutes in real-time. God, if you don’t get out of movie time soon, you swear that you’re going to get a whiplash or something.

After the announcement is over, all classes are dismissed; therefore, you and Marty start making way out to the football field to meet up with everyone else. The two of you reach the bottom of the stairs and part ways almost immediately. You find yourself wandering around for a few minutes alone before you almost run straight into Rizzo and Kenickie.

“So, you’re leaving after this, huh?” Rizzo asks and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Uh yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, this place is going to suck without you and Styles here to mess everything up,” Kenickie adds before him, and Rizzo pulls you in for a group hug.

“Are you two trying to make me cry?” You ask as you hug both of them back, letting out a sigh.

“Is it working?” They say in unison.

“Definitely.”

You pull away from the two, and they say their goodbyes before heading off in a different direction. Just as you’re about to start wandering around again, a strong pair of arms snake their way around your waist and pull you against them. There’s no point in guessing who it is because you’d recognize those ring clad fingers anywhere and have no time to comprehend anything before Harry’s spinning you around in his hold and crashing his lips against yours.

“Ready to finish this up and get home love?” He mumbles against your lips after a moment of making out.

“More than ready,” you tell him and start pulling him towards where you know the rest of your friends are.

You reach everyone just as they’re finishing up singing, You’re the One That I Want, feeling a sudden wave of sadness… You’re going to miss the ridiculously random breaking out in songs like this.

“Oh look, the whole gang’s back together,” Frenchy says as the two of you approach.

“We’re sure gonna you guys when you leave,” Doody chimes in, and everyone falls silent.

“Try not to forget about us when you go,” Jan adds in as well, and everyone mumbles sad ‘yeahs’ in agreement.

“Nah that’ll never happen,” Danny says while sending a wink your way as you nod in agreement.

“How do you know?” Sonny asks, getting in Danny’s face slightly.

“What do you mean, how do I know?” Danny challenges and pushes him backward. You watch as he falls back onto the high striker game all of you are standing beside and the weight reaches the top with an obnoxious ding. With a loud laugh, you place your hands over your eyes just as Danny says the opening line for the very last song of the movie. “Wop ba-ba lu-mop!”

“Wop bam boom!”

Everyone around your group breaks out in dance to the sound of We Go Together, and you can’t help the giant smile that stays plaster on your face. The fun and happiness radiating off of everyone around you is contagious, and the matching dimpled grin that stays on Harry’s face lets you know he feels the same way.

As much as you really don’t want to join in on the dance, you find yourself busting a move to the catchy tune just as you and Harry get dragged away from everyone by Sandy and Danny. The couple doesn’t say anything as they take you away from everyone to an awaiting car; but not just any car, the car Sandy and Danny fly off in at the end of the song.

The couple doesn’t say anything as they take you away from everyone to an awaiting car; but not just any car, the car Sandy and Danny fly off in at the end of the song.

“What’s this?” You ask them and send a sideways glance to Harry.

“Your way back home,” Danny states.

You feel your heart swell as they both pull you and Harry in for a quick hug and have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from crying. Once they pull away, Sandy looks at you and smiles gently. “Thank you for taking care of us all and making sure our story ends the way it’s supposed to.”

“It was my pleasure,” you tell her before getting pulled in for one last hug.

“Ready to go home, Y/N?” Harry asks softly as Sandy and Danny take off towards the others.

“You bet,” you tell him and pull him down for a quick kiss before climbing into the passenger seat of the car.

Harry gets into the driver’s side and revs the engine a little bit, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him before inching forward. The crowd of students starts breaking away to create a path for the two of you to drive down, and you continue smiling like an idiot.

You reach the end of the crowd, and the car lifts off the ground, just like it does in the movie with Sandy and Danny. You glance at Harry; who just smiles, before turning around to wave at all of your friends – watching them disappear as you and Harry are consumed be an extremely bright light.

The annoyingly loud ringtone you have set on your phone awakes you from your deep slumber as you slowly blink your eyes open to the sunlight-filled room. The tone goes silent, but you couldn’t care less as you let out a loud groan and stretch out your very stiff body. You remove Harry’s arm from around your waist and slowly sit up on the couch, rubbing at your tired eyes as you glance at the date displayed on your phone; February 15th.

“Oh my god,” you gasp and look down at your still sleeping boyfriend. You start shaking him and chuckle as incoherent sleepy words leave his mouth. “H wake up, we’re home.”

“We’re what?” He asks before finally opening his eyes. Another soft laugh leaves your mouth as he sits right up and looks around your living room. “Holy shit, we are.”

He looks to you, and as soon as your eyes meet, you tackle him back onto the couch with a hug. “We did it!”

You lean down to connect your lips to his and moan when his hands start roaming your body in a new soft and intimate way; different from how he touched you in the movie while being worried about someone seeing the two of you in the back of his car. After a few moments of doing this, you find yourself breaking away from the kiss and chuckling slightly. “As much as you’ve already managed to turn me on, don’t you think this would be much better in our bed? I miss that thing.”

“You read my mind,” he replies with a laugh before gripping onto your ass tightly and sitting up straight so that you’re straddling him. He connects his lips to yours once again in a quick kiss, but it ends as fast as it started. “Weirdest dream ever, huh?”

“Fuck, don’t even call it a dream; it’ll mess with my head too much. That all seemed so real.”

“Oh, I know,” he tells you before glancing over at the few remaining strawberries that are still in the pack from being left out overnight when you two fell asleep on the couch. “Think Jeff will believe me if I told him what happened?”

“Hell no,” you state firmly.

“Ok, but what if we got Mitch or Gemma to eat the rest of those strawberries?”

“Nope,” you tell him as you scramble off of them and make a dive for the fruit before he can. “These are going in the garbage.”

“You’re no fun,” he whines as you walk over to the kitchen and toss out the container.

“Oh, grow up,” you sass as you walk back into the room. Just as you’re about to say another witty remark, you glance at the television screen where it’s paused on a picture of all eight of your friends from the movie. A smile dances its way across your lips as you look to Harry and gesture for him to look at the screen as well.

He stares at it for a second, before shaking his head and turning back to face you. “I actually miss them.”

“Me too,” you agree and send him a wink. “Guess we’ll have to watch it again so we can see them.

“I think the fuck, not Y/N. I don’t need any more Grease in my life for a long time.”

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the-observant-frisbeetarian · 5 years ago

Text

Gallipoli

By George deValier

Status: Completed One-shot

Gallipoli, April 25, 1915. Australia is a young nation with plenty to prove. And war is where nations prove themselves.

Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, and I lived the free life of a rover From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback, well, I waltzed my Matilda all over. Then in 1915, my country said 'Son, it's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done.' So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war. And the band played 'Waltzing Matilda,' as the ship pulled away from the quay And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli.

April 25th, 1915

Australia leans on the deck of the ship and feels fiery excitement thrum through his veins. He breathes in the cold, clear air of dawn that gusts over him, carrying with it the clean and salty smell of the Aegean Sea. It is exhilarating to be this far from home. It feels like a lifetime ago that he left with his men, sent on their way to glory by cheers and applause and the strains of a familiar old folk song. Now, a million miles from home, the high, unfamiliar Turkish cliffs loom before him, but Australia just laughs defiantly at them. He knows his lads can give these Turks what for, and more besides. They will prove themselves capable just as Australia will. After all, he is a nation now, and war is where nations prove themselves.

Australia turns and smiles when his brother walks up beside him. New Zealand's blond hair is a tousled mess, his blue eyes tinged with red. He has obviously had very little sleep, and does not look nearly so eager as Australia feels. "G'day, N.Z."

"Morning," yawns New Zealand, pushing the hair from his eyes. "What are you doing out here so early? Have you slept?"

Australia shakes his head restlessly. "Can't sleep. Just lookin' at the ocean." How can he possibly sleep at a time like this, when he is about to make his destiny?

"Ah, the wine dark sea," says New Zealand softly, leaning on the railing and gazing out towards the horizon. The sky is still dark, but the softest hint of daybreak plays on the water.

"Huh?"

"This place is very close to Troy, you know." New Zealand's voice is slow and somehow distant. Australia just stares at him in confusion. "Troy… the Iliad…" New Zealand explains slowly. "Which was written by Homer, who often used the phrase 'wine dark sea.'"

"Uh… huh." Australia finds his brother a little strange sometimes. He looks back at the ocean and scratches his head. "It doesn't look like wine to me."

"Oh, forget it." New Zealand smiles slightly before falling sombre again. He takes a shuddering breath before closing his eyes. When he opens them he stares blankly at his hands on the railing before him. Australia can't understand his little brother's strange mood, but he is concerned none the less.

"What's the matter, mate?"

New Zealand looks up at Australia, his expression unsure and a little worried. "Aren't you scared?"

Australia blinks incredulously. "Scared? Why would I be scared? You think we can't stand up to Johnny Turk?" Australia laughs loudly. "We're nations now, N.Z. You'll see. They'll all take us seriously after this one."

New Zealand shakes his head a little before clasping Australia by the shoulder. His grip is surprisingly strong. "Good luck today, big brother."

Australia winks at him. "Won't need it, cobber."

It takes no more than fifteen minutes. Australia watches in shock as the Turkish shells cut through his ranks like a shearer through wool. The Turkish cliffs are insurmountable, knocking back wave after wave of men as they charge. Some fall dead immediately, bullets tearing through their brains; others fall screaming as arms or legs are shredded by sudden, whistling steel. Australia tries to keep going, tries to yell at his troops to keep moving, but as his men fall around him he can barely breathe. Shock and disbelief tear through his head like the shells and bullets tear through his men. The noise, this heat, this overwhelming stench of sweat and blood smothers him, but he just tries frantically to push forward. This is their first battle. Australia's first real battle. This is supposed to be glorious. So why are they getting nowhere?

"Forward!" he cries, his voice coming from far away. "Push forward!" Australia feels his men's terror and confusion but he keeps yelling, keeps trying to keep his battalion together. He can barely hear his voice above the screeching of the shells and the punctuated barking of the rifles. He pushes down the panic and his confused jumble of thoughts turn suddenly to New Zealand. Is he fighting this same impossible, losing battle? Australia looks around desperately, but his brother's troops are nowhere in sight. All he can see is the brown dirt beneath him, the corpse-laden beach behind him, the bright, unforgiving sun blazing down on his exhausted and rapidly falling men. He can not even see the enemy beyond these blasted cliffs. But this is where they have been told to land… he is following his orders… so why are they unable to even make it up this bloody cliff? Australia realises it is hopeless with a gut wrenching, despairing sense of clarity.

Everything goes too slow, too fast. Australia is ordering these men to their deaths. Men who signed up for adventure, signed up to see the world, signed up for glory and duty. Men he's trained with in Egypt, laughed with over cigarettes and beer, cheered with over games of two-up, brawled and sweat and bled with. Men whose names he knows like his own. His men. His men falling around him, before him, beside him. Bleeding and screaming; silent and stunned; limp and lifeless. Australia can't believe it. He can't stand it. And he wonders if he has come this far just to watch his army slaughtered on their first day in battle.

And how well I remember that terrible day, how our blood stained the sand and the water And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, we were butchered like lambs at the slaughter. Johnny Turk he was waiting, he'd primed himself well. He shower'd us with bullets, and he rained us with shell. And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

Australia pushes through the stinking, sweating mass of uniformed men who fill the British command tent. He does not know who they are; he does not care. He is only interested in one. Pressing through the crowd, his eyes fall on a large makeshift desk that occupies the far end of the tent. Several high-ranking English officials stand around it, examining the papers that cover its surface. Amongst them stands the very one he is after.

"England!"

England looks up from where he leans over the desk, sighs in frustration, runs a hand through his hair in a weary gesture. He looks exhausted. "Hello, Australia."

Australia does not stop. He walks right up to England, grasps his collar, and pulls him onto his toes. "Whose bloody brilliant idea was it to send us up those cliffs?"

The men around them shoot to attention and jostle closer, but England simply raises a hand for them to back off. "Australia, I know. The landing place was incorrect. It seems our intelligence was faulty."

"Faulty?" cries Australia. He doesn't know whether to laugh or scream. "Faulty! I'll bloody say it was faulty! My men fell like stones in a river out there! They were cut down like…" At the very small, almost imperceptible raise of England's eyebrow, Australia sets him back on his feet. But he tightens his grip on the nation's collar. He grits his teeth and tries to focus, tries to calm down, tries not to act like the petulant child that England thinks he is. "What do we do now?" he growls.

"You keep going."

Australia reels as though he's been struck. He waits for England to explain himself, but no explanation is forthcoming. Instead England just looks like he is waiting for Australia to leave. The men around them murmur amongst themselves. Australia stammers before he can form a response. "You're insane! Did you see them cut down out there? What the… how… this isn't a fair fight, it's a bloody slaughterhouse!"

"Nevertheless, we have no choice. Those are your orders."

Australia will not accept it. "No! Have you seen the terrain out there? I don't know much about battle tactics but I know you can't drive a herd over a cliff. The Turks advantage is too great. I can't send my men against that."

"Your men are soldiers. They are here to obey orders. And they will."

Australia tries to respond, but he is struck speechless. There are no words. He pushes England away and takes a stunned step backwards. His eyes fall to the floor. They will keep going. The failed battle on the cliff will repeat itself. More of his men will die pointlessly, before even meeting the enemy. The room spins dangerously around him.

England's eyes soften and he places his hand to his forehead wearily. "Australia, your nose is bleeding."

Australia wipes the blood on his face edgily. "I know. Think it's broken."

"Here." England pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and takes a step towards Australia. Australia takes another step backwards, his body thrumming with anger and irritation.

"Stop. Don't act like you bloody well give a damn now." His breathing comes hard, fast, rapid. A futile grief immobilises him. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists. "They died before they even reached the bloody Turks - they never had a chance." Australia feels lost, overwhelmed, surrounded by this lonely cold and indifference. He wonders where New Zealand is. New Zealand will care. New Zealand will understand. "So many of them died, England."

"Welcome to war, young one." England sounds cold, distant, weary. Old. "Your men died. Mine died. More and more and more will die."

Australia's blood thunders in his ears. "But that... that was for nothing!"

England's eyes harden again. Hardened by centuries of war, of battles lost and won - of watching his men die. "It's always for nothing."

Australia's vision turns red. He has to leave. He has to leave before he snaps. "It might be easy for you to send your men to the slaughter. But forgive me if I find it slightly bloody difficult, you arrogant bastard!"

Australia turns and storms from the tent. Behind him England sighs and whispers. "He will learn."

The days and weeks and eventually months wear on. The battles continue day after day, going nowhere, producing nothing. A type of town develops on the hills of Gallipoli, a town of trenches and dug-out roads and makeshift tents. The Australians settle in, settle in to continue the battles, continue the hopeless push forward, continue to obey the futile and suicidal orders that keep issuing forth. Australia is eternally grateful for the comforting presence of New Zealand. But there are others also.

England is an unseen presence, hidden in his tent with his troops stationed far from Australia's, only appearing occasionally to hand Australia another desperate, pointless order. The beautiful and distant India, who is also bound by England's orders, and quickly befriends New Zealand. France, a strange and flashy sort of bloke who spends a lot of his time arguing loudly with England, but fights hard and bravely when the time comes. And even occasionally a young, soft spoken blond fellow in glasses whose name Australia can never quite remember, but who seems fiercely devoted to the few men who serve in this hell-hole in his name.

And yet, none of it ever stops. The sound of rifle fire that splits his head in half. The smell of blood and death. None of this is what he imagined. These trenches aren't the adventure he was promised. And Australia would do anything to trade this cramped hell and this bleeding dust for the green bush and the orange sky and the sweeping, wide brown plains. But he stays with his men - he stays and bleeds and dies with them. Here by the threatening, overbearing cliffs he had once laughed at so easily; here on the harsh, unfamiliar earth constantly dug for trenches and graves. Here with the view of the ocean, that wine dark sea, and Australia wonders if Homer got it wrong, because the sea looks more like blood than wine. On certain nights, lying under a comforting black star-studded curtain, he can almost imagine he is back under the outback sky. But then that rifle fire splits the silence apart and that death scent of blood overwhelms him and he realises that these stars look different from the ones back home.

But in those brief moments when the fighting stops and the cannons fall silent, Australia's heart is a million miles away. It is in the outback, with the wide, open sky that stretches on forever. In the dry and living bush, with its trees and river beds and teeming undergrowth. In the evergreen rainforest, with its waterfalls and rock pools and hidden caves. In the sprawling towns and young cities his people have made; in the vast red plains where his people have hunted and danced for thousands of years. Back where the stars shine the right way and birdcalls fill the morning air. Back where the gleaming white sand meets the sparkling sea, which is blue as the sweeping sky and not dark as wine and blood.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda, when we stopped to bury our slain. We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs, then we started all over again.

The graves stand in lines, mounds of dirt piled like tiny mountains, small makeshift crosses standing crookedly adorned with carved bronze tags. Australia grits his teeth, clenches his fists, feels blood on his tongue and on his hands. This is not what he had been promised. This is not glorious. The wind gusts past, making the dirt scatter across the dusty ground and the bronze tags swing in the breeze. He stares across the waste, across the battlefield, where a huge masked Turk stands defiantly on the lip of the trench. Australia has seen him before. Seen him often. He hated him at first. Now, as he watches Turkey and knows that he is waiting to bury his own dead, it isn't hatred Australia feels, but a begrudging respect. Whatever difference lies between them, this they have in common. Neither likes to see their men die.

Finally bowing his head with the devastating fatigue that hits him on these days, Australia barely notices as New Zealand walks up slowly beside him. His eyes remain on the lines of crosses until New Zealand speaks.

"It's his country, you know."

Australia looks up to New Zealand's face as his little brother nods across at Turkey, standing on the other side of the battlefield. "He is only fighting to defend what is his." New Zealand always understands. Australia stares, angry and uneasy and confused. He tries to understand, too. Tries to accept. But he can only wonder just what the hell he is doing here in the first place.

Because everything is impossible to understand; impossible to accept. The mornings he sends his men to the slaughter, the afternoons he buries his dead in the unforgiving ground, the nights he lies with his hand in New Zealand's and dreams of the stars in a southern sky. The days march on and it does not make sense anymore. Australia watches as his men throw cigarettes and canned meat to the Turks. He watches as the Turks throw chocolate and sweets back. He watches in disbelief as a Turkish soldier emerges unarmed from his trench to lift a wounded Australian soldier and carry him to the allies side. It simply makes no sense: men on both sides, dying for nothing, and going nowhere.

And those that were left, well we tried to survive, in that mad world of blood, death and fire And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive, though around me the corpses piled higher.

"Come in Spinner!" Australia calls, the soldiers around him cheering as a young corporal takes a hold of the kip and tosses two pennies into the air. The loud calls and cheers break into evenly split groans and whoops as the two coins land, tails up. Australia laughs merrily when he sees the result and holds his hand out to the referee, demanding payment. "Fair go, mate. Tails up, spinner loses. Pay up."

The corporal groans and Australia claps him on the shoulder. "No worries, better luck next time, eh?" Australia passes the man a cigarette then lights it for him before lighting his own. He pushes the handful of coins into his pocket and calls out for a new Spinner.

The circle of men laugh raucously as they trade winnings amongst themselves. The scorching sun beats down on the group of gambling soldiers standing in the narrow dusty trench. It is moments like these when Australia can almost forget that half of these men will be lying dead in No Man's Land before the month is out.

Another Spinner loses his first round and Australia grins, reaching out a hand for his winnings, nodding to the applause around him. He is about to call out for a new Spinner when he is interrupted by a familiar and unwanted voice.

"Australia, what do you think you and your men are doing?"

"Ah, bloody hell," Australia mutters. He gestures for his men to hide the kip and coins, wipes his hands on his trousers, plasters a grin on his face, replaces his cigarette between his lips. "Hello, hello, what's this then?" he says, turning to meet England walking up behind him. "Come to visit the cannon fodder?"

Always the same. This little exchange. England trying to radiate authority; Australia trying to strip him of it. "Australia. Gambling is forbidden in the trenches." England stands a few feet away from the men.

Snickers and murmurs behind him. Australia raises an eyebrow. "Who said we were gambling?"

England raises his chin, glares back; delivers his blow. "We have another mission for your men."

Australia grins, even as his gut wrenches a little. He grins because it is easier. "What's bloody new, eh?"

England looks around, takes in the dirty quarters, the empty bottles, the men staring at him defiantly. He wrinkles his nose. "Don't your men ever wash? And don't you teach them to salute their superiors?"

His men laugh heartily around him. Australia laughs with them. They always find the stuck-up English pretty bloody hilarious. "We'd be happy to have a wash if we had any bloody water. Why don't you send us some of yours? As long as you have enough left to make your tea, of course. And none of us like to salute those who send us to our deaths day after day."

England shifts uncomfortably at that. Australia takes the opportunity to dig the knife in a little deeper. "Talk of death too vulgar for you? Come out of your bloody tent once in a while and you'll see that it's a regular occurrence for us on the front line." England just shakes his head, laughs humourlessly, almost turns on his heel. Australia hopes it hurts. He knows it doesn't. "Come on then, give us our orders and back to safety of the tent for you."

"You've no idea, Australia," England spits irritably.

Australia takes a few steps towards him, lowers his voice so the murmuring men behind him can not hear. He removes his cigarette and blows a mouthful of smoke before he responds. "No idea? Don't I? I have an idea of pain. I have an idea of death. I have an idea of bloody suffering. And I have an idea that you don't give a bloody damn about any of it. I wonder if you'd have a better bloody idea if it was America and his men out here." England winces at that, just as Australia hoped he would. "But no, it's much easier to tread all over the colonials. So hand us your order, then kindly bugger off."

But even through his angry words, Australia knows it is not that easy. He knows that England is not a coward sitting all day in a tent. Over the weeks, Australia has watched England struggle under the weight of a desperately failing campaign. He has seen the nation weary and dirty and dead-eyed as his own troops are cut down. And he has wondered how England has lived with this pain for centuries. Australia has even screamed at him, demanded to know how he could stand this; screamed for understanding, screamed of his own pain, screamed, "My men are dying!"

England had responded, "So are mine! I've lost more men in war than you can possibly imagine, so don't speak to me like I have no idea of your sacrifice!" But Australia could see him thinking 'Stupid child', he could just see it. Just as he can see it now. Because this is what it means to be a nation. But Australia does not want this.

England does not relay the order like he normally does. He just thrusts the envelope containing the orders into Australia's hand before silently taking his leave. Australia holds the death warrant, glares at it, and shoves it into his pocket next to the coins. It will wait. He replaces his cigarette and his grin. "Come in, Spinner!" he calls, turning back to the circle of Australian soldiers.

Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head, and when I woke up in my hospital bed, And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead. Never knew there was worse things than dyin'.

The dying screams shoot through him, destroy him. Australia is helpless to stop them. They are dying for England. They are dying for Australia. They are dying for nothing. They had come for glory, they had come for empire, they had come to heed duties call. But after so much blood and pain and death, it isn't for glory anymore. Now there is nothing to prove, and they no longer want to be heroes; they just want to survive. They don't want to be heroes, but Australia is still proud of them. Of their defiance, of their courage, of their ferocity in battle and their endurance in the face of despair. Australia watches as his people fight and struggle and die and he does it all with them.

As the wounded are taken to the ships and the dead to the earth, always the old folk song comes to mind. Those strains the band played when they sailed away from home take on new meaning in this harsh, foreign place. "And their ghosts may be heard, as you pass by that billabong… you'll come a waltzing Matilda with me."

When Australia was young, he wanted nothing but the outback under the red sky, the stars, the dry bush, the wet forests, the pale blue glow of the mountains, the far horizons, the sparkling blue sea. The beautiful land where he could go waltzing Matilda. But he had become a federation. He was expected to stand alone as a nation. This war was supposed to be the perfect opportunity to rise to the task, to prove himself, to earn glory and a name and form a legend. Instead it has shown him what is expected of him to stand as a nation in this world of blood and sacrifice and futility.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed, and they shipped us back home to Australia. The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane, those proud wounded heroes of Suvla. And the band played Waltzing Matilda, as they carried us down the gangway. But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, then they all turned their faces away.

January 9th, 1916.

When it is over Australia sits on the shore, staring out at the blood red sunset over the wine dark sea. On the shores of Gallipoli, Australia has won nothing. His men have lost their lives for a foreign king while invading a foreign country. He has become a nation and all that it means. And now he is tired, worn out… sad. The ideal is lost. The reason never existed. And the war has only just begun.

Eight months, and nothing has changed. They are finally leaving, and Gallipoli is still held by its Turkish defenders. Eight months of fighting and killing and dying, eight months of blood and fear and madness and exhaustion and hell on earth. Eight months, tens of thousands of lives. Was this what is meant to be a nation? To throw your men's lives away for nothing?

"Australia!"

Australia looks up when he hears his name called. New Zealand pushes through the mass of soldiers waiting to board the boats. Australia is too tired to stand and greet him. He is too tired to do anything but sit and watch New Zealand approach. His brother looks dirty, dishevelled, exhausted; he looks the way Australia feels. He kneels slowly before Australia and gently takes his hand, his face a map of concern. "Australia? Australia, say something."

Australia swallows and forces himself to speak. "N.Z. Why are you crying?"

"Australia, are you… are you all ri..." New Zealand breaks off as though realising what a pointless question that is.

Australia tries to smile. "Don't cry, mate. We're nations now. Nations don't cry."

Australia's words have the opposite effect. New Zealand shakes his head, the tears falling down his cheeks. "Australia." But there isn't anything else to say. New Zealand leans forward and puts his arms around his brother, rests his head in his shoulder, lets the tears fall. Australia does not move.

"We're nations now, N.Z. You'll see. They'll all take us seriously now."

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

The End.

Author’s Notes

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#george devalier #aph Gallipoli

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shayanyaan · 5 years ago

Text

Two Eleven Super

“London is very human-scale,” I am quick to pitch for one of my favorite cities in the world.

Her eyes widen and her face lights up. She nods her head vigorously and points her finger at me, in complete agreement. This is the moment in a conversation when one person articulates perfectly what the other person was thinking but couldn’t quite put into words. B and I have been explaining to each other how both of us are more comfortable living in cities where we can walk or take public transport.

“Oh gosh London, yes! Seeing a London trip on my schedule always fills me with immense warmth. Imagine being able to walk around a city slowly absorbing all that it has to offer, the sights, the sounds, the traditions.”

They say never meet your celebrity heroes because you’ll inevitably find something disappointing. I think the same applies to some of the great cities of the world. But both of us conclude hands down that London does not fall in this category.

“Actually London is not even a celebrity. London is a reliable old friend. A friend that has not lost their sense of culture and tradition. The monuments, the churches ...”

“.....and the bridges across the Thames - each one steeped in history.” We are finishing each other's sentences now. “The railway stations. The tube - a subterranean metropolis beneath a metropolis. The Mind the Gap jokes.”

“And what about the black cabs and then … and then the red double decker buses. Oh the red buses - what an icon! They say tourists take the tube but real Londoners take the bus.”

“Aha! You’re probably right. Flocks of pigeons on Trafalgar square, the shops on Oxford Street.”

“And you can’t forget the ever present murky skies, steady rain, rippled puddles, umbrella bearing pedestrians.”

“Of course you just had to mention the Great British weather!” A disapproving look is thrown. The entire body of humor surrounding the British weather is a road we agree not to go down.

---

I continue to quiz B on some of the other cities that she thought would fit the human-scale bill. New York inevitably comes up as a place she has not only travelled to but lived in. I am glad she brought up New York. Now New York is not an old friend. New York is a person you know you shouldn’t fall for, but you do anyway. There is something about the pace and the madness that sets New York apart from the rest of the US. Something about the people, coming from all corners of the world. To make a living, or even half a living. American dream and all that.

In New York you are acutely aware of the class divide that exists in society. New York is dirty. The subway is full of creaking old trains. New York has JFK and LaGuardia both of which are dismal at best and soul destroying at worst. Oh and Penn Station. Never has there been a more classic case of the mighty having fallen. A complete and utter hell hole out of some post apocalyptic world.

But somehow it all works. Barely. And that is where New York absolutely has you. As you walk around the city, you peel back the layers and beneath all the flaws and scars, you will find a genuinely captivating person. A person that knows how to push your buttons and make you forget the pandemonium, if only for a split second. Through the dollar pizzas on the street corners. Through the sheer magic of Central Park and the museums. Through the Manhattan skyline; hands down the best skyline in the world. Standing next to the Hudson, under the Brooklyn Bridge, with Lady Liberty keeping a quiet watch from a distance, you will be powerless as New York sucks you in. One glittering high rise at a time. Dreamy eyed, you cannot help but stare in wonderment. Hundreds of floors, thousands of windows. What goes on inside? And the lights! Yes so many lights. What could be a better tribute to Tesla, Faraday and the like?

“In general, the east coast of the United States is on a much more human-scale. Relatively small states with trains taking you across borders within a couple of hours at the most.”

“Going west of maybe Illinois, they started drawing great big rectangles for states.”

“And then there’s Texas. Vast open skies in an almost revolting shade of blue. Just as vast are the expanses of highway, further than the eye could see, or care to see. Wide, long and monotonous. Not a single human-scale building in sight”

“And who the hell builds highways passing through the center of a city!? Makes going to get some milk feel like a great expedition to the other side of the world.”

More chuckles.

Then a brief silence, during which I am suddenly reminded of where I am - in a lounge on the upper deck of an A380. A massive ship hurtling through the ether, pushing the speed of sound. A big TV screen near where I am standing silently glares back at me indicating that -50 degrees is but a mere 10 meters from where I am standing. Yet here we are, B and I, chatting like two friends catching up over coffee.

But of course, we are not friends. Not even acquaintances. She is on the Emirates cabin crew. And I am just a passenger.

---

Back at my seat, halfway through an episode of Chernobyl, I pause to stare out of the window. Beyond the wing, which seems to stretch out to eternity, a smudge of orange is forcing its way through the royal blue of the sky. I can hear the muffled yet reassuring boom from the four Rolls Royce engines. It is then that I realize that there is nothing about the A380 that is human-scale. There is nothing about the skies which she inhabits that is human-scale. I've travelled on the beloved Super dozens of times. Yet I continue to be amazed at the size and scale with which she operates. Devouring continents and swallowing oceans. Bringing the other side of the world just a little closer to home.

A friend of mine often describes journeys on the A380 as the closest we can get to the long sea voyages on gigantic ocean liners in the 1930s. And he is right. Two decks with so much space to stretch out. Bars, lounges, showers - no expense spared in ensuring luxury. Imagine peering out of the window from your first class cabin on the Queen Mary and seeing nothing but vast open sea. Right now I am doing exactly the same. Only from 36000 feet above the Earth, and all I can see is the vast open sky. Far below, Moscow and St Petersburg slip behind us. Scandinavia and the Atlantic Ocean lie ahead. As we burn more fuel, over North America, we will eventually settle in the exclusive airspace of flight level 410.

The Boeing 747 is a work of art. Sheer poetry. The Airbus A380 however, is a lesson in outsmarting the laws of Physics. It is an absolute whale of a plane that looks like it should never leave the surface of the Earth in the first place. But somehow it does, through the most languid and sluggish of take offs. Once up at cruising altitude though, it is steady ship all the way to your destination. The ability to punch through the sky without even the faintest of trembles is simply unmatched. I continue to stare wistfully out of the window, thinking about how much I’ll miss the A380 when she’s gone. She’s right up there with the Concorde in that nothing like this will ever be built in my lifetime.

---

Resting my head on one of the fluffiest pillows ever to have taken flight, I gaze at the roof of the cabin - tiny twinkling stars gently coaxing me to drift off into a deep sleep. And frankly, it is not hard to. The bed is completely flat and the mattress is more comfortable than the one I have at home. The blanket is ever so soft. The fake gold and wood around the windows is not something I’d furnish my home with, yet up here in the sky, it somehow adds to the coziness. From my own little cocoon, I can see neither the aisle nor other TV screens. Not a single window shade in the cabin is raised. I don’t remember the last time I fell asleep on a plane without an eye mask. All I can hear are the engines whirling away, and the hushed sound of the air beating against the fuselage - no more than a relaxing white noise.

In the moments between lying down and falling asleep, I am thinking about the countless journeys I’ve made with Emirates over the last two decades. Leaving home as often as I’ve had to, I’ve come to really treasure the sense of familiarity that an Emirates flight brings to me. I’ve never stopped to think about it before but there is a certain warmth and tenderness you feel when you have an old faithful travel companion to share your journeys with. And Emirates has been that companion for me, helping me wipe away the homesickness. Slowly at first, then all at once. The boarding music that says “Hello Tomorrow”. The inflight announcements that say “Tayaran Al Emarat”. The reassuring voice of Sir Tim Clark answering questions on the default podcast channel. The wavy curves on the cabin wallpaper. The cabin crew with their brown blazers and their red hats. When choosing an airline to fly, it is hard to look past this comfort of familiarity resulting from a bond first formed unwittingly, many years ago. And strengthened over numerous journeys from one side of the planet to the other, including this one. Before I can process any more thoughts, I slip into a happy and peaceful sleep. We are probably somewhere over the North Atlantic. But in this moment, it hardly matters.

---

Six hours have passed. B is on hand to wake me for dinner. It seems the crew has saved the best meal till the very end. Three courses this evening, starting with a chick-pea salad that doesn’t make you hate your life with its dreariness. I politely refuse the alcohol but ask for a piece of garlic bread on the side. Which is brought to me, warm, from a basket lined with cloth. The main course is served with the Jeera rice cooked in just the right amount of butter. The ratio of jeera to rice - perfect. The Rajma has the power to rival any dhaba in North India and along with it is a second curry made with melt-in-your-mouth soft paneer. Actual phulkas to go on the side, instead of pita.

And if you're going to go full North Indian with your meal, you need some achaar. Which obviously is on my tray as well. Emirates just knows how to serve Indian food. If I had any doubts about this, they are well and truly shattered when B brings the dessert. Four of the finest pieces of Rasgulla. Sometimes you have a meal so sublime that you are moved to shedding a tear or two. This AVML has been one such.

I call B over one last time to thank her for everything. She passes me a brownie, one very similar to those I’d been wolfing down earlier while talking to her in the lounge. This of course, brings the widest of smiles to my face. Not because I like brownies. But most certainly because of the fact that she had noticed. And remembered. The crew has been absolutely stellar on this flight.

---

Business class. A crew that knows how to pronounce your ridiculously long last name. A crew that has time to engage in conversations with you. Meals served on crisp white table cloths. Meals that come in courses. Flat beds to stretch your legs. Flat beds to rest your weary soul. On a grueling ultra long haul flight across 10 time zones, almost anything that seeks to make you feel more earthly is highly appreciated.

This has been Emirates Two Eleven Super - Dubai to Houston in just under seventeen hours, albeit the best seventeen hours of my life.

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your-write-or-die-blog · 5 years ago

Quote

It had been a while since my last casting call. Looking around me now at the que of girls wearing 90’s style windbreakers, crisp new vans, and highlight on the tips of their noses, I felt as though I had been thrust into a world of Instagram models and I’d received an invite on accident. The open call was massive, for a pop band music video coming out in the summer. The line of girls snaked halfway around the Hollywood studio lot, adjacent one set comprised of six or seven fake houses that looked vaguely like something I’d seen on television. I squinted at them for a moment and racked my brains. Dexter, maybe? The girl in line behind me caught my eye and craned her neck in the same direction, eager energy exuding from her. I turned a little bit to smile at her, but couldn’t tell if she’d noticed behind her dark aviators. Maybe she was as nervous as I was. Maybe she was just so flat out gorgeous and cool that she didn’t think I was worth her acknowledgement. I knew from past experience how ruthless Hollywood was. Even though this was my fifth casting call this month, and even though I’d been working to put some weight off and had even gotten up early to do my hair, I began to feel more and more unprepared and out of place in my plain black jeans, doc martens and casual spaghetti strap top. I realized I hadn’t even taken time to read the email from the casting company. Convinced I wasn’t going to make any friends in line, I pulled it up on my smartphone. My stomach sank a bit. The company was looking for a “love interest” role, and warned that actors should be prepared for the audition to include “physical touch” and other possible “romantic gestures”. The coffee on my breath became brutally apparent and I considered ditching the audition entirely. How and why did I not stop to read the stupid email before driving here and freaking out over the lack of parking for almost an hour? My mind began to race. What if the lead singer was gross? “Romance” wasn’t exactly my forte either – I had never gone out for a “love interest” role. This is why I needed an agent. After a few deep breaths, I found a stick of gum in the bottom of my purse along with my resolve. I was already here and I needed the money, I thought. Waiting tables at the Mel’s on Sunset simply wasn’t cutting it, and if this band was as big as this massive turn out led me to believe, I knew it would mean a nice chunk of cash if I somehow landed the part. Plus, music was a huge part of my life – I’d been writing songs on piano since I was 12. To help make someone’s music come to life on screen would be an absolute pleasure of mine… I just hoped their music was good. The sun began to set and the temperature dropped a bit, a refreshing and welcomed change that seemed to help calm my nerves. To help pass the time I put on my headphones and cranked up my favorite 80’s music: Depeche Mode, Oingo Boingo and Fleetwood Mac. Before too long I found my way to the front of the line. The clipboard lady gestured for me to pause as she held her ear to a mess of static through her walkie. She eyed me and my plain face and smiled patiently, then sighed and shook her head. “I’ve got no clue what he just said,” she admitted. “You’re adorable honey, you’re gonna do great,” she said as she checked my ID’s. She looked like she’d been on her feet for hours now, but the sentiment seemed genuine and I smiled back appreciatively. She handed me a ticket. “You’re number 412,” she said, “don’t lose that ticket.” My stomach sank again. 412, I thought. There’s no way I’m getting this part. The next clipboard-person was a tall gay man, head bald as a bowling ball. He singled me out as I walked by and asked if I had my portfolio. I handed it over and he flipped through it, looked at me somewhat indifferently and then directed me to a room off to the left. My palms were sweating. What if I didn’t fit the part and this was the end? The situation became more and more real. I jumped when he began instructing us, not realizing that he had followed along behind me. “Okay, ladies, watch your step - NICE shoes, file in loves, careful now” he said in a thick British accent, ushering myself and a few other girls into a dark, cool room. The entrance to this stage had a little sitting area – I found a seat and stuck my hands between my legs, praying that they dry before something important started happening. I looked up – the ceiling was very high like a warehouse, the lights along it stark and expensive-looking. To break the silence I leaned over to the girl on my left, who had waist length blonde hair that looked incredible with her yellow corduroy miniskirt: “With the lights and stuff, it’s sort of like Costco in here, isn’t it?” She looked back at me confused and I decided I wasn’t going to speak anymore. The first part of the audition was more of a group interview – the bald clipboard guy picked me out with three other girls and I felt a surge of relief. I’d experienced auditions like this before – it was a great way for casting to get through more people more quickly. This casting team in particular thankfully seemed a lot friendlier than most I’d encountered, casual even. They only asked us our names and to tell them about ourselves – the blonde girl laid it on thick, charisma oozing out of every hand motion and inflection. The second girl seemed almost disinterested, explaining that she went to school in the area and that her friend had told her to come. Finally, they got around to me. A kind-eyed but important looking woman dressed in linen asked what had inspired me to audition. “I love music and I love to create,” I answered easily. She straightened a little bit and asked me to talk a little more about that. I suddenly felt very honest. "Music is such an important part of my life...and of society, it allows us to communicate what could otherwise be lost in a boring old conversation. People talk too much, I think..." I trailed off and became very aware that everyone's eyes were fixed on me now. I felt like I had somehow answered... correctly? She nodded agreeably and motioned for me to go on. "Well I like to write my own songs and I perform open mics sometimes when I'm feeling brave," I continued, "It's hard for me to bear my soul like that...working with someone who is brave for a living would be incredible." The woman looked up from her notes and leaned over the table, smiling ear to ear. "Anything else, darling?" This audition was suddenly much different than any I had gone to before. My ears were burning. I untucked my curls to cover them. "No," I laughed. "I guess that's it." The three directors laughed along with me, which felt amazing. The woman in linens stood up suddenly and removed her glasses so that they hung down on her neck. "And," she started, raising her eyebrows, "what do you think of Matty Healy?" The atmosphere in the room shifted at the name. The director lady smirked knowingly as the girl next to me melted just a little bit into her boots. I realized they all knew something that I didn't. Before I could embarrass myself by asking who Matty Healy was, suddenly he was there. "Did I hear my name?" He was holding a cup of coffee without a lid, a large plastic clip holding his dark curls away from his face, which was scrunched up into a cheesy grin that sent butterflies rippling through my stomach. To complete the actor-on-set look he wore a gray sort of bathrobe over his wardrobe, charmingly mismatched with a beautiful pair of shiny black shoes. The girls on either side of me unabashedly began to squeal. The directors smiled patiently as he came over to greet us. I watched three girls fall in love with the same man at the same time. "We're taking five," he said in a beautiful accent, taking the blonde girl's hand and kissing it very lightly. "God, it's cold in here when you're not dancing about like a lunatic, innit?" he murmured to the group of us, explaining the bathrobe. He was so adorable that I couldn't help but hold the back of my hand over my mouth. He caught the motion and looked over at me now. "Hi," he said, nodding to me as our eyes met. His were warm even in the harsh warehouse lighting. He introduced himself: "I'm Matthew." Embarrassment froze me for a moment. Oh God, I thought. How long had he been standing around that corner? He had probably heard the whole audition. But those eyes were so reassuring. Despite not knowing his name a mere ten seconds ago, I felt immediately comfortable with him. "Hi," I replied quietly with a laugh, surprising myself by leaning in to politely hug him around the shoulders. Matty did not seem surprised as all; catching my arms for a moment and holding them there. He smelled like hair product and cigarettes. "Thank you," he hummed warmly near my neck so that only I could hear. "I needed that today." He sounded sincere. When he pulled away, I was grinning like an idiot. "Erm," he started, tearing his eyes from me. "This project is very important to me and I've very grateful to you all for coming out and being a part of it. We're having a bit of a party for the next part of the audition so I hope to see you girls there," he smiled again and waved sweetly to everyone, murmuring something quickly to the director before shuffling back around the corner. I continued desperately to try and calm the redness in my face as the rest of the models openly fan-girled to one another, glancing over at me with a mix of delight and envy. "Okay, ladies," the woman with the glasses chuckled, waiting for us to settle. "Like Matt said, this next part of the audition we're going to have a sort of mock-shoot just to test if you're compatible - " The bald man threw his hands up in exasperation. "Nora means we want to see some chemistry, duh." Nora rolled her eyes good-naturedly as we all turned to "ooh" at each other, "right, exactly, so there's going to be some dancing involved, we're going to play a little clip of music and we just want to see you interact with Matty and have a good time. As specified in the email if you're not comfortable with this we thank you for coming out anyway. Go ahead and have a seat in the waiting area and we'll come grab you when we're ready for you, there should be water and snacks in a couple minutes." Out of 412 girls auditioning, the waiting area only had a couple dozen. The vibe was different from before, the ice had been broken and all the models chatted excitedly, sipping water, munching grapes and crackers. Not all of them had been there to meet Matty, and they teemed up around me after hearing that we'd had a little moment. Thirty minutes went by and only one girl had been asked to the set. Nora popped in and my heart sank. An extra-cautious layer of professionalism coated her voice this time. "Hello ladies, just a reminder that we had a massive turn out today and unfortunately we can only consider a few of you. We really are grateful to you for showing up but Matty and the team are looking for someone pretty," she paused, "specific ... when it comes to this video in particular and we are doing our best today. Thanks again for your patience." She smiled dryly and dipped out, hateful eyes amounting on her back. I swallowed dryly. Another ten minutes went by and two models had already given up, packing up their things with heels clack-clacking through the stage door. The quintessential Hollywood phrase was "hurry up and wait", but forty minutes had never felt quite so long to me. Finally, Nora reappeared and pointed at me with that knowing smile. It was only then that I realized I'd been holding my breath - I sighed out in relief and hurriedly grabbed my jacket, ignoring the stares behind me. While it was small, the set was much less "mock" than I anticipated: full lights and camera surrounding a simple white backdrop where a crew member sat in behind the drum set. A few other crew members were buzzing about, setting marks with tape on the floor, discussing angles, scrutinizing their notes. Matty sat on a director's chair behind the mic stand without his bathrobe this time, legs crossed. Before I could catch his eye I had a round brush in my face. "Just a little shiny there," the makeup artist said to me, motioning my chin up to her. "God, you've got great skin... how old are you?" I stumbled over my words, still getting my bearings. She waved in a "never-mind" motion. "You're over 18 though, right?" I nodded carefully as she dabbed rouge along my cheekbones with her ring finger. "There... just so these lights don't wash you out too much." She smiled and gave the hair around my face a couple twists and a spray. "Beautiful. Good luck!" Someone clapped their hands a couple times to get everyone's attention. "Alright, welcome Miss..?" I squinted past the lights and called out my name to who I assumed was the video director. "Very nice, hi, yes," he sighed in the exasperated sort of way that directors do, "Okay! So - we're going to play some music and have you sort of perform with Matty here - dance, flirt, pull his hair, whatever you want, ok? Are you ready?" I nodded and a surge of confidence shot through me as Matty looked up with that smile, scooting the chair out of the shot and putting his hand on my shoulder as if we'd known each other for years. "I do hope you don't pull my hair," he joked, "it took an awful long time to fix." "I mean it's your video, Healy," I shrugged. My God, I thought. What a face. The audition had already started and I didn't even realize. The audio was much less professional, a boom box off to the side started playing a song that I immediately recognized from the radio and I realized that the man who had decided just now to dip me was probably worth millions. I recovered from the dip and followed his lead as he whipped the mic around and began sort of half-singing, half mouthing along to the lyrics. Although the mic was off, up this close I could tell that his voice was absolutely lovely. As he made his way behind the stand-in drummer he eyed me, still gauging. I took half a second to collect myself and followed the vibe of the song, deciding the sort of alt rock guitar riffs called for some hair shaking and punk-posing. He took my hand and spun me into him as he propped one shiny shoe up onto one of the toms. I slid my hands along his shoulders and came up behind him; making eyes at camera 3 as he sang directly to it. Before the verse was over, I decided i couldn't help myself: I tugged his curls lightly and he sang the remainder of the verse directly to my face before making some sort of explosion noise and racing around me to get back to the mic stand for the guitar solo. I was in awe of him. Once we made it back to the front I felt him switch to full-on performance mode, trusting that I could keep up with him now. And I could. Before long I realized we had gone through almost the entire song like this and the director looked significantly less bored than he did when I first walked in. The music stopped and the crew applauded us. Matty tucked me under his arm and whisked us away from the lights for a moment. I was still catching my breath, yet he had barely broke a sweat. "That was, you were -!" "That was so fun!" I finished for him. He laughed and my heart melted. "Really though, like -" He had the cutest way of tripping over his words. "Ugh," he gave up, hugging me instead. His face was so close to mine I felt his breath. "And I heard what you said earlier in the group about music and, and erm - that was you right?" I nodded and he lit up like a little kid for a second. Seeing him happy like this was well worth the impossible parking, the waiting and the hours of nerves. He went on: "So, right, listen - I think we're doing a couple quick little callbacks but, dude." Matty Healy had just called me dude. He fumbled in his trouser pockets for something and then motioned for me to wait, jogging over to behind the set. The crew members were all in a bunch now, reviewing the footage and speaking excitedly. When he returned he handed me a pen and a scrap of paper. "I've lost my - bleeding - phone again but please, would you write your number for me?"

to be continued

#writing #Hollywood #acting #story #fanfic #the1975 #matthealy #the 1975 #matt healy #mattyhealy #matty healy #matthealyfanfic #the1975fanfic #mattyhealyfanfic

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missytearex · 6 years ago

Text

To Read List - Larry

Part 3 of my Larry to read list! Hopefully this is the last part (but if I know myself at all it probably won’t be).

Has the Ocean Lost Its Way by FullOnLarrie

Louis and Liam are professional surfers who have been traveling the world together for years. Now they travel with Liam’s pro-surfer girlfriend Amelia and their baby Vivian. They’re in Manly Beach, Sydney to compete in the 2017 Australia Open of Surfing when Louis meets Harry, a freelance surf photographer working for Surfer Magazine.

Louis wonders if his nomadic lifestyle will keep him single indefinitely or if there’s someone out there who’ll fit in with his little makeshift family.

burn this flame by rainbowninja167

“You’ve played keeper before?” Tomlinson asks suspiciously, hands on his waist.

“Er, yeah,” Harry coughs. “Loads of times.”

“Alright Popstar, if you’re sure,” Tomlinson tells him with a shrug, his professional expression already curling into laughter. Harry tries not to read too much into it. After all, how hard can goalkeeping really be?

When Harry gets invited to play in a celebrity charity match with Louis Tomlinson, Manchester United's star player, he's determined to impress him with brilliant football skills. The only flaw in Harry's otherwise foolproof plan? He has absolutely no football skills, brilliant or otherwise.

Strength in Softness by larrymylove

"As soon as he saw Harry’s picture, he froze. It was a picture of Harry practicing his boxing, heavy black gloves covering his fists as he punched at a bag hanging from the ceiling. His face was focused and he looked like an absolute beast. Louis reached out and touched the picture with his finger, consistently amazed by the duality of Harry. As he started at the picture, he wondered if Harry had pink nail varnish on his toes when it was taken, and what other tattoos and secrets he had buried underneath his workout gear and hard expression."

Or, the one in which Harry is a boxer/trainer, and teaches Louis that there can be, and is, strength in softness.

Galileo by 13ways

“Dangerous? Not haute?” Harry mused. “Why not haute?”

“‘Course you're haute, babe,” Louis smiled. He reached out to fix a stray curl that had dropped down onto Harry’s forehead. Harry stared at him with a dimpled smile, and Louis reared his head back to laugh. Harry craned his head back in parallel with Louis’s, watching him. He couldn't peel his eyes away. Louis Tomlinson laughing was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You're a whole other level of charming, you know that?” Louis said. Harry leaned forward to kiss Louis. They both closed their eyes, savoring the moment. It was a kiss that should have happened ages ago.

Louis was captain of the state championship high school soccer team. Harry was that gorgeous, scarf-wearing, long-limbed British kid in his art class. They weren't supposed to be friends.

But somewhere along the line, Louis Tomlinson opened the locked mystery that was Harry Styles.

In This Moment by dimpled_halo

Louis is on a mission to right all the wrongs he’s made and Harry is the first on his list. He’s not looking to be in a relationship with him again–though he wouldn’t be opposed to it–but he really doesn’t want to leave this earth with Harry hating him.

Louis waits until the rush dies down, and when the last customer leaves the shop, he starts walking towards the front door. His heart beats faster, the closer he gets, the anticipation getting to be almost too much. He opens the door with shaky fingers, and when he goes inside Harry is in the middle of adding more scones to the display case.

“Welcome to Tiers of Joy, what can I get started for you?” Harry isn’t looking at him, but when his eyes make their way to Louis, he pauses. His eyes harden immediately.

***

A mix-up at the hospital causes Louis to reevaluate his life and he works on trying to fix his biggest mistake: letting Harry Styles walk out of his life two years ago.

That's How I Know by allwaswell16

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

I Still Find You Lovely by angelichl

Reason #37 - Because They Have Air-Conditioning and You Don't

The more he thinks about it, the more he can imagine himself in some bloke’s bed, sweat-free and soaking up the air-conditioning, maybe even curled up under the duvet because he's actually a little cold. The prospect of a reprieve from the heat is even more alluring than the prospect of getting laid. Which may or may not be saying a lot.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea…”

In which Harry goes to a bar in search of a bloke with an air-conditioned flat.

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

Scoring Position by juliusschmidt

Harry Styles hasn’t pitched a perfect game, but if he closes out this final inning, he’ll get the win and bring handsome soccer star Louis Tomlinson home.

[Or the one where they’re all athlete-type people (except Gucci model Zayn and overly-friendly sports journalist Niall) and long-fated lovers Harry and Louis finally get together after Liam plays in the Superbowl.]

One Taste And He Want It by lululawrence

Stan: Yeah, dude. Listen to Steve and Oli, as much as I hate to say it.

Perrie: Well I’m supportive. If you two actually got together, it would be super cute. Perrie: Jesy says she stans you and supports your marriage

Stan: Shut up, Perrie. He doesn’t need more fuel for this. Stan: For real, Louis, I don’t think it’s a good idea.

Louis: Too late. I’m captain, which means my vote counts more than yours, and my mind’s already made up. I’m gonna woo him and learn about his team and we’re gonna kick their asses.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are the captains of the two Frisbee Battles teams in the finals, and Louis has to find a way for his team to win. Seduction is, naturally, the only option.

It's halftime. Are you ready to go? by momentofclarity

Reason #12 - Because it's halftime.

Harry would like to think that he doesn’t know how he got himself into this. Only… he’d be lying. Because he knows exactly how he got himself into this. Oh man, does he know, and it’s all because of a certain Louis Tomlinson. Alternatively - football is gay and Harry is trying to cope.

Don't Bite Your Tongue by dinosaursmate

Reason # 19: celebrate major victory by favourite team or political candidate. - Louis looked down at Harry’s chest, and… shit. He was wearing a Manchester United shirt. “You were right.” Harry inhaled through his teeth. “Someone stole your seat. A horrid little Man U fan, at that.” “Are you seriously not getting up?” Louis laughed humourlessly. “You little shit.” “You didn’t call me and then you ask me for a favour? Please.” - City and United are competing for the Premiership but, for Louis and Harry, it's not just the title that hangs in the balance.

Read Between the Blurry Lines by QuickedWeen

Harry gave a shocked laugh, “Smooth, very smooth.” Louis shrugged unapologetically. “What can I say, you’re cute, and I’ve only got one stop left before you get off. I don’t exactly have time to beat around the bush.” Harry giggled again, and quickly handed his phone to Louis to get his number. Louis dialed his own number and handed the phone back to him as the train was pulling into Harry’s stop. Just before the doors opened, Harry turned around and smiled. “See you on Thursday, Louis.”

Harry and Louis meet at an event and hit it off, but Louis is hiding something important about his life.

The Balcony by maggieisalarrie (ls2k14)

Just as he’s about to fall back to sleep, a strange sound catches his attention. He quiets his breathing and focuses, trying to hear whatever it is more clearly. The same noise comes again and he starts to silently freak out because, obviously, the logical explanation is that there’s someone inside his apartment and is there to either rob him or murder him and he can’t quite say he’s okay with either of those scenarios.

There’s no indication of someone walking or shuffling or moving things around out there. His heart rate slows just a bit and then spikes again when a different sound comes from outside his balcony doors.

“What the fuck,” he whispers to himself.

My English Love Affair by isthatyoularry

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Can't Start A Fire Without A Spark by larrymylove

Louis Tomlinson is the pop sensation with his first new single out since taking a personal hiatus from the spotlight. Harry is a paparazzi hired to photograph him during promo. Louis hates paparazzi with a passion, but there’s just something about the pretty young pap with wide green eyes and chocolate curls that Louis can’t shake from his head.

can i be him? by amory

Louis is twenty years old and has been waiting for his soulmate and true love to come along since the day he was born. Harry is an eighteen year old youtuber who is skeptical of soulmates and the pressure of being the person someone else has been dreaming of their entire lives.

They meet at Playlist Live

Boy, you got me blinded by jbm_94_bcn

If Louis wasn’t completely sure that they were on May 22nd, he would’ve bet this was an April’s Fool joke. He couldn’t believe all these important people were seriously proposing he should appear on the cover of fucking Vogue magazine. He wasn’t alone, it seemed like Lottie was about to faint right next to him. He stared at each and every face in front of him, and they weren’t smiling, so this had to be a serious proposal. Actually, there was one face smiling - Harry’s. The fucker was smirking. Louis didn’t like him anymore.

Or the one where Louis finds himself modeling for Vogue Magazine next to hot top model Harry Styles and faking a relationship with him for the public, finding along the way more than a new way of life

Keep Yourself Warm by navigator

AU. Harry sleeps around.

as long as skies are blue by theboyfriendstagram

Summer Camp!AU. Louis has been a football instructor at Lake District Camp for three years when twenty-year old Harry Styles - the latest addition to the counseling team - stumbles not so gracefully into his life. It’s not that Harry is everything Louis can’t stand-except. He is. But that doesn’t stop him from walking in on the naked boy too many times for it to be a coincidence.

Never Be by cherrystreet

Monica: You've got to see her again. Ross: And why do you care so much? Monica: Because! You could get to live out my fantasy! Ross: You had fantasies about Emily? Monica: No! Y’know, the fantasy! Meet someone from a strange land, fall madly in love, and spend the rest of your lives together.

The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

Escapade by dolce_piccante

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

As You Are by zarah5

AU. Five years after The X Factor launched his career as a radio host and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson returns as a judge. Falling for a contestant is the last thing he needs. It's also against his contract.

The only reason Harry auditions for The X Factor is because his best mate signed the two of them up as some kind of joke. Harry doesn't get the big deal—not until he's faced with this season's judges and realises that one of them used to be his desperate, impossible teenage crush.

You'll Breathe Me In (You Won't Release) by LoadedGunn

His first driving lesson with Louis takes place on a Saturday.

Harry stumbles out through the front gate in thrown-on baggy jeans and his ratty Ramones shirt, sees Louis leaning casually against the car, and his knees nearly give out. Apparently "not another surly teacher" meant a drop dead gorgeous twenty-something scruffy guy with shaggy brown hair and cheekbones sharp enough to chop a salad with. Clearly, Robin's trying to get Harry killed at seventeen.

Or, the AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who's really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

Up To No Good by whoknows

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

like a bastard on the burning sea by vashtaneradas

au; harry breaks louis, louis breaks everything.

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Too Much To Bare by soloistharold

"From where Harry was sitting, Louis’ face looked more angular, more mature. He found himself studying Louis’ features, from the way his hair fell against his forehead, to the prominence of his cheekbones, to the dip of his cupid’s bow, and finally, to the subtle curve of his small lips.

He stared and stared and stared, noticing how his eyes crinkled every time he laughed at one of Chandler’s stupid jokes, watching the way his mouth moved when he smiled, feeling a slight yearning in his chest for more contact. He wanted to reach forward, maybe tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, press his lips against the warmth of Louis’ cheek… perhaps let them wander to the right a bit and capture Louis’ lips in a kiss.

He wondered what Louis would do if Harry kissed him. Would he get mad and push him away? Or would he welcome it? Maybe bring a hand up to cup Harry’s cheek and use the other to stroke his hair.”

Harry has been in love with Louis for as long as he can remember despite his many efforts to move on, until finally, in a last ditch attempt to put it all behind him, Harry pushes away everyone he loves.

Bathroom Tricks by luminescence2

louis tomlinson doesn't do relationships. but he does do harry styles.

A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall by rosegoldhl (Rosegoldhl)

Like an automatic machine, Harry opened his marker and stood in front of the customer waiting to write the name and order. “Hi, welcome to the 78 Café, what would you like to order?”

“Free tea?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to the customer, the voice spreading warmth in his chest. He smiled at the blue-eyed man, who looked cozy in an oversized hoodie, sleepy eyes and tangled hair.

Louis is a homeless man and Harry is an uninspired writer, who gives him a home.

A Rock For Your Thoughts by caverlywrites

Harry is ready to start his new job as a full-time nanny. Everything that could go wrong, does.

something in the way you move makes me feel like i can’t live without you by justaboat

au. harry and louis are figure skating partners in the sochi 2014 winter olympics.

Lust for Life by larryent

AU. After Louis moves into a new flat, his fit next door neighbour who happens to be a baker brings him cupcakes to welcome him into the building.

Your Silhouette Over Me (orphan_account)

“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.

“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”

Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.

“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.

The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”

~~~~~~

Or the one where Louis went out one night after work, wanting to get laid, and then ended up meeting a bartender named Harry Styles.

The Summertime, The Butterflies, All Belong To Your Creation by PumpkinspiceLou (CatyDreamDwyer)

When Louis decides to help out a lost little girl at the park, he never expected it would lead him to finding his home.

heroes of the orange skies by queenmcgonagall

Louis likes bathroom walls and Sharpies, Harry likes metal, Zayn likes Liam and Liam likes Zayn, Niall is wise, and they all go to the zoo.

Stargazer Louis by thecheshirepussycat

Louis has been deaf ever since a he was a little kid. Some of his only comforts now are the colors and fragrances of flowers. Harry could care less about flowers and prefers the beautiful melodies of his music. How could two people so different find love and maybe something else they didn't know they were missing in each other?

All The King's Men by sacredheart (orphan_account)

Louis is an arrogant, self assured prince who falls in love with a charming thief named Harry during his youth. However, years later, a revolution is sparked amongst the frustrated commoners... and Louis's former teenage romance is leading it.

another hazy may by deLILAh

louis is a terrible poet and harry lives in the now and they have six weeks to fall in love but, really, it only takes six seconds. bookshop meets military meets summer romance au ft. marlboros, the backstreet boys, and underrated literary devices.

hush. by Wankerville

“I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

As Cold as a Whisper by panda_bear21

Harry did not turn around to face Louis yet and Louis’ body screamed at him to take the opportunity and run. Run until he couldn’t anymore, until his lungs collapsed out of breath and he was either safe and away or caught back in Harry’s gaze. Harry turned then, and his eyes were darker than the heavens and just as green as the haunting woods surrounding them, entrapping Louis. Focused, and clear. Louis' heart rattled in his ribcage, shaking, wanting to escape his unmoving body. Harry walked closer and Louis’ eyes stayed on him, breath leaving in a sharp exhale when Harry bent down to touch his face.

A fairy tale au where people in Louis' village are disappearing and Louis is married off to uphold a centuries long agreement.

Love's Truest Language by summerwine

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

No One Does It Better by nodibs

Harry's an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn't the first time they've met.

finding you was so hard (but loving you is easy) by togetherwecouldbealright

An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.

Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight.

Then a string of thoughts make themselves clear in Louis’ head. First, Harry is a vampire. Second, Louis is a dumbass. Third, Louis is also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. Fourth, he’s pretty sure he just quoted the back of the Twilight book.

Only You by mystic_believexx

A strict school, a forbidden love and a burning hatred that turns to passion so hot Louis' in very real danger of getting burnt…

After pulling one prank too many on their high school's Principal, Louis and Liam get transferred to Stanford Institution, a boarding school with a reputation for handling rebellious teens. Louis' determined to buckle down and follow the rules so he can come back home as soon as possible but unfortunately for him, his roommate-one Harry Styles- has other plans.

Sometimes things have a funny way of working out...

Off The Record by Tomlinsontoes

Louis is an out of control teen heartthrob, Harry is hired to get him back on track and they both hate each other while they secretly don't.

“I'm not your personal assistant you know,” Harry says once he gets there and Louis lets him in and he shoves the bag into his hands. “I'm your publicist.”

“I know that,” Louis smiles a devilish grin patting Harry in the middle of his chest as he takes the bag, “but look at you personally assisting me,” he says looking in the bag and pulling out the Cheetos. I also know that my PA turns his phone on silent at night, and clearly, you don't. Waiting for a booty call or something?” Louis says turning on his heels and scurrying over to his sofa and plopping down. Harry swears he sees a puff of orange dust soar into the air when Louis opens the bag. He's amazed that couch is as clean as it looks.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Baby Heaven's in your Eyes by theboyfriendstagram

They couldn’t be more different if they tried. Louis Tomlinson is 17 years old and in his last year of the most prestigious private school in Doncaster. Everyone who attends his school knows him thanks to his incredibly rich family, sassy attitude and gorgeous girlfriend, Eleanor Calder. If there’s one thing that completely annoys him, it’s that there is a poor community college right across the street.

Harry Styles is 19 years old, and (once again) in his last year of college. He goes to community college in Doncaster. He never shows up to classes and if he actually bothers to, he’s either high or drunk; sometimes both. His skin is littered with tattoos and if there’s one thing he absolutely hates, it’s the snobby students attending the private school right across from his.

Or a sixth form!AU where Harry is the fucked up bad boy with too many problems, Louis is the perfect rich boy with too much money and their schools are right across from each other. They meet at a party and that’s the last (and maybe the only) thing they need.

Trailer here

Mute by TroubledPro

How is love supposed to speak, when one can’t even choke out the words? Louis’ life was a joke through his witty words. Harry’s life was a joke through his lack of words. Louis was classed as a normal child; mentally and physically. Harry was classed as an abnormal child; mentally and physically. Louis could speak. Harry could not. Harry had progressive mutism. Louis did not.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the wonderlands by stylinsoncity

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

Take My Breath Away by RealityBetterThanFiction

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Young & Beautiful by Velvetoscar

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

Time Bomb by ThisSentimentalHeart

“Why exactly are you here?” Louis asked, feigning annoyance and failing pathetically at it. “My publicist told me I can't go anywhere near you.” Harry said, eyes still smudged with last night's eye liner. “That makes you my favorite person in the world.”

Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.

Hide your Face (So the World Will Never Find You) by neozeka

Louis is a master thief, and one of the most wanted criminals in the kingdom. When he hears that Prince Harry is holding a public masquerade ball to find a potential queen, Louis can’t pass up the opportunity to go after the crown jewels.

Or the one in which Harry is a prince, Louis is definitely not Cinderella, there is still a ball, and the magic doesn’t end at midnight.

in the middle of the night by hazkaban

louis takes a stray dog in for the night and ends up with more than he bargained for.

We Never Said Our Love Was Evergreen by PumpkinspiceLou (CatyDreamDwyer)

Harry takes his position at the top of the grand staircase, eyes washing over the crowd. It’s a sea of formality, ornate fish following the waves the music dictates, the current of Victorian tradition. Harry begins to wonder if perhaps that is his problem. Being stuck in an endless circle is why what he yearns for most in this world is still so cruelly out of his reach. Before the thought can grow and wreak havoc though, something catches Harry’s eye in the middle of the ballroom.

OR A Victorian Masquerade Ball AU where Harry is basically the Phantom of the Opera

This Must Be My Dream by nothing_but

When he got closer, Harry could see that the person on the side of the road was a young man who was holding a piece of cardboard. London was scribbled onto it in big letters so passing drivers leaving the motorway station could easily read it.

OR Louis is hitchhiking and Harry takes him in. And well, who knew that there would be so many things to be discovered apart from towns and roads and motels?

Rhonda by aclosetlarryshipper

“Would it be weird of me to say I’m almost, like… nervous?”

Louis shakes his head, giggling as their noses press together in an Eskimo kiss. “Would it be weird of me to say I’m glad? Because I am too. A little.”

Louis can feel Harry exhale. “If you’re nervous, it means you really like the person, right? That’s what I’ve heard.”

“That sounds right,” Louis says, and then he leans in.

The High School AU that was inspired by Home.

Green Eyes, Empty Canvas by SexyAsswoMan

His eyes were a weird shade of green. A shade that reminded you of a forest. a forest washed up in rain, glistening in the golden sun. Bright yet soft at the same time. And Louis wanted to get lost in them. Wanted to take it all out and splatter it on a canvas. Wanted to know every stroke of the man that stood in front of him. Too bad he was shit at forming words.

or where,

Louis Tomlinson liked to paint and suddenly, all he could ever paint was Harry Styles.

Amid the Falling Snow by noellehenry

Harry is going to spend Christmas with his sister Gemma while their parents enjoy a vacation on Aruba. However, she has a few surprises for him.

Harry can deal with the Irish boyfriend and a birthday party; it's the birthday boy he's not prepared for. The boy he once had a massive crush on, the boy who had hurt him, the boy he wanted to forget.

Why is he still attracted to him?

Featuring lots of snow, books and a cosy cottage in an idyllic village

A Whole New World by backonefish

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, imagining the notes he heard earlier are from a residual dream. He opens his eyes, and, nope. The music is still there. Notes of a song he could never forget clear as the confusion in his head. That is to say, they’re really not very clear. The more he strains to comprehend what the fuck is actually going on, the more he understands. Understands that what he’s hearing is piano keys, not a record of a song. Understands that whoever is playing the piano is really not very good at it, hesitance heard before each press of the key. Understands that his fucking neighbour is waking him up at – he fumbles with his phone on his bedside - 7:30 in the morning by playing Aladdin songs on a piano. Badly.

Or- Louis has moved into his new apartment to start his new job as a teacher. Things would be great. If only his arsehole neighbour didn't wake him up every morning by playing piano. Shenanigans ensue. Like a very inadvisable kissing bet.

Ride 'Em Cowboy by larry_love13

A Harry Stripper AU.

i just know i have found the place my heart belongs by scagnetism

“Gracie loves faeries, don’t you, little love?” Louis asks, cutting through Harry’s thoughts, and she spares a glance over her shoulder at her father, nodding quickly before looking back at the house and touching it with gentle fingers.

Harry looks up at him, and they share a small smile, Louis making him feel warm, warm, warm. “This is her house, and it’s my favorite thing in my shop,” Harry explains, and Louis crouches slightly so he can see it better.

“’S beautiful,” he murmurs, and Harry smiles appreciatively at him.

Harry looks at Gracie again, blonde hair falling into her face as she inspects the glittery house, and he instinctively tucks her hair back behind her ear. “I’ve never seen the faerie,” he says to her softly, “but sometimes, when it’s very quiet, I can feel her.” He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, just sitting like that for a few seconds for the effect. “That’s how I know she’s watching over me.”

Or, the one where Louis has a quiet little girl, Harry has a toy shop with a magic faerie house, and they were made to fall in love.

Just Tell Me the Song and I'll Sing It by myownspark

Louis is an architecture student who can only think about the future. Harry is a baseball player who can only think about right now. Both are lonely for different reasons. Boybands bring them together.

Or, this may just be a long love letter to Louis’ voice, I’m not sure.

Based on the following prompt: Harry and Louis are university students who go to the same bar on the weekends. The bar has karaoke and Louis likes to sing Disney/Musical/Boyband songs sometimes. Harry thinks he's cute so he starts singing Disney/Musical/Boyband songs and flirting with him while he's on stage.

The Fox You've Been Waiting For by FeelsForBreakfast

Louis isn't in love with Harry, but it’s something like that. A story where Louis is a contradiction and Harry thinks he’s the greatest.

"He wants to be loved and he wants to be the best but he wants it whispered to him, so quietly he almost can’t hear it, on Harry’s lips that sting like nettles. Harry’s golden in the sun and ivory in the moonlight and Louis wants to be in his orbit. He wants them to be kings."

Even Angels Have Their Demons by AFangirlFantasy

Louis is appointed the role of Guardian Angel, and his first mission is a boy named Zayn Malik. Unfortunately, it seems that a certain Demon has gotten to him first.

Or... an Angel/Demon AU where Angel Louis hates Demon Harry, but somewhere along the way that stops being so true.

Little Technicolor Things by tekhnicolor

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

more than just a dream by spit_on_me_larry

Louis Tomlinson loves his life, he really does. It's just that he's constantly on the verge of everything completely going to shit. He's disorganized and clumsy and hotheaded and just a little bit ridiculous.

And then he meets Harry Styles. Harry is the type of person Louis hates. It seems like everything comes easily to him. He's rich and brilliant and everyone loves him and he has his life impossibly and perfectly together.

Louis detests Harry Styles. Except for the inconvenient fact that he can't seem to get Harry out of his head.

Send My Love by FallingLikeThis, Rearviewdreamer

Louis Tomlinson is fed up with dating losers. Harry Styles is tired of leaving his love life up to fate. Maybe one last try is just what they need to get it right.

Or, when online dating actually works.

Given a Chance by Fabby

Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?

Wrong.

What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?

(or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)

The Brightest Lights by Rearviewdreamer

After watching yet another actor walk away with his Oscar, Louis is on the lookout for the role of a lifetime that might finally get him the one thing he has always wanted. He didn't think coming out of his self-proclaimed break to do another film would be all that difficult, but that was before he met his new co-star.

If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night) by FallingLikeThis, Rearviewdreamer

Louis accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only Zayn would be a big enough asshole to call him at two in the morning. This fucking better be important. “This fucking better be important,” Louis greets.

On the other end of the line comes a soft giggle. “Li, you don’t usually curse. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like it.”

Yeah, that’s not Zayn. Louis sighs, his anger melting into resignation when he realizes that it’s some poor bastard probably drunk dialing his ex or something. “Sorry, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong number.”

Based on this Tumblr prompt: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"

Monday Meetings by kikikryslee

American AU where the boys all work for their college newspaper. Louis gets to voice his opinion in every issue, Liam is in charge, keeping everyone in line, Niall just really loves soccer, Zayn is an aspiring photographer and Harry is the incoming photo editor.

(Or, the one where Louis wants to date Harry, but won't, because they work together, even though the other boys follow no such rule.)

--- Louis turned and looked Harry in the eye. "I told Niall that even though he wanted to date Josh, his co-worker, it just wasn't going to work out. And that was OK, because there's plenty of other people out there for him." Please take the hint. Please. It looked like Harry did, because he simply nodded before breaking the gaze.

For the Sake of Propriety by panda_bear21

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for. His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best. When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice. But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

once upon a dream by thedeathchamber

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

Forever Home by thedeathchamber

Louis heard humming, soft and melodious, and the scribble of a pen on paper, before he blinked into awareness, his vision focusing gradually to make out the person standing at the foot of his bed. It was a young male nurse, dressed in light blue scrubs. The morning autumn sunlight streaming in through the window lit up the hair that escaped from his bun like a halo. “Hi,” Louis croaked. The nurse’s head whipped up from his notes. “Oh, you’re awake—” When he looked at Louis his voice broke off and his face went slack. “You’re awake,” he repeated.

Hate Me To The Moon by harrystylesandstuff

The last thing Harry wanted was to spend his entire summer stuck with his dad's new fiancée and her kids. He wants no more when he learns she's a very religious dictator, raising a sixteen year old nun and a clean cut potential priest ass kisser.

Everything takes a slightly different turn, however, when Harry finds out his future step-brother is actually the rude stranger he caught sucking off a guy in a pub, far from the reserved Christian his mom thinks he is...

AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other's guts to convince themselves they're not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn't feel...

Purer Than The Water (like we were) by FeelsForBreakfast

Louis is a merman and Harry is a boy. The lake is a good place to fall in love.

"Louis wants the boy to wade deeper, deep enough that Louis can go under and wrap his fingers around his ankles for just a moment. Pull him under. Just touch skin, for a second."

every time i run, i keep on falling on you by hazmesentir

Shameless fluffy Christmas fic.

AU. After being best friends for 8 years, Harry moves to LA. It takes the keen observations of all of Louis' friends to realise the one thing he really wants for Christmas is Harry.

Today and Every Day by LittleLostPieces

Five times Harry proposed, and one time Louis definitively said yes.

you and me were kings by ithacas

harry plays football in a small town in west texas. louis might be the only person that doesn’t give a damn. au.

Reeling Through The Fall by zarah5

AU. They hate each other. Except for when they don’t.

This Shifting Ground by zarah5

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

These Roads We Stumble Down by onewasturning

He’s completely drenched, not one millimetre of him not covered in rain, and the old sheepskin cover over the seat is probably going to stink afterwards from the damp. But even with what seems to be a constant tremor shaking his body, brown hair plastered to his forehead, and a blue tinge to his skin, he’s still probably the most gorgeous person that Harry has ever seen.

Or, Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it's a long ride to Glasgow.

Red Brick Heart by hazmesentir

Harry has only had his room for thirty-two minutes when it stops being his.

Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted.

we're falling skyward by brownheadedstranger

AU. Louis fires people for a living and meets up with Harry in big cities.

(Take You Back Where You Belong) This Could be Our Favorite Song (orphan_account)

When recently divorced, thirty-five year-old, overworked tax accountant Louis Tomlinson gets sent on a two-week vacation to Aruba by his best friend, he automatically assumes it's going to be two weeks of panicking about all of the work he's missing and staying holed up in his room. But then, right on his first night in Aruba, he meets Harry Styles, the cheeky, crass, and charming waiter and up-and-coming musician. Who happens to only be eighteen years old.

Nonetheless, a whirlwind romance kicks up between Louis and Harry, and Louis finds himself falling for the boy in a way he hadn't thought he could fall again after his divorce. But as Louis' two weeks in Aruba come to a close and Harry finds himself standing on the cusp of the fame he's always craved, Louis has to make the decision of whether or not he's going to stay with Harry, or leave him behind in Aruba, and it turns out to be the toughest decision Louis ever has to make.

Counting The Steps Between Us by zarah5

AU. So, yeah. That year abroad helped Harry establish that he is in love with his best friend. Now, if Louis would stop treating him like a little brother, that would be awesome. (Additional ingredients: a collapsing tree house, a lot of pining, the other three boys as Louis' new best mates from university, and a camping trip. Serve hot.)

love me in between the future and the past by navigator, quitter

Set during the 2013 VMAs.

Harry's scared of history repeating itself.

Now I Got You In My Space (I Won't Let Go of You) by three_miles

Louis and Harry used to fool around, until they just... stopped. Until today, when Louis gets a signal from Harry that he hasn't seen in a long time.

Relief Next To Me by dolce_piccante

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

oh your touch, so bittersweet by soleilouis

louis meets harry in a tattoo shop.

twisting the kaleidoscope behind both of my eyes by hazandboo_write

harry's cute and curly and blind, louis's not, they meet at a wedding, and then out for yogurt.

We Will Find Our Way by supernope

Harry smiles at Louis, quick and easy, and says, “Well, since we’re in the same boat, we’ll just make our own Christmas. What do you say?” Louis tamps down on a bloom of warmth in his belly. He barely knows Harry past seeing him walk down the hall in just his skivvies - not that he’s complaining - but he’s being so lovely, smiling at him so hopefully, and, well. Louis doesn’t much fancy the idea of spending Christmas completely alone. Nodding, he reaches out and pokes Harry’s dimple, watches it flirt to life underneath his fingertip. “I say yes.”

AKA, Harry and Louis are uni students studying abroad in New York, stuck in the dorms together over Christmas.

Spin Me Like A Record by zarah5

Uni AU. Sometimes, Louis poses as Harry’s boyfriend. It doesn’t mean anything. Really.

Speaking of Marvels by navigator, quitter

AU. Louis is a nanny in suburban New Jersey, and the neighbors' son is home from college for the summer. It was supposed to be a fling.

we are the greatest pretenders by chillpills

“You do matter,” he says, roughly. “You matter so much, and you’re not just a computer, because you’re Hazza, and you’re mine, and it doesn’t matter what they say because I think you’re the best person I’ve ever known and I’d be honored to serve with you and - ” Harry tosses the memory drive aside and then throws his arms around Louis and drags him down on top of him, burying his face in Louis’ neck. Louis can feel Harry’s forehead against his false pulse, and hear the quiet sobbing noises he’s making under his ear.

or: Louis and Harry are androids, Nick developed them with independent emotions, and they get much more than they bargained for with them.

Thought The Song Was Sung by 100percentsassy

Louis never auditioned for the X-Factor. Years later, Harry's just another gay ex-boybander who lives alone with his cat... until Niall decides to take matters into his own hands and set up a profile for Harry on a dating website.

harder to hide than i thought by dangerbears

ridiculous self-indulgent high school au. louis's best friend's little brother suddenly got very attractive.

Waited My Whole Life for This One Night by LittleLostPieces

It's been said that patience is a virtue. Harry is sure that the person who came up with that cliche never spent eighteen hours waiting for the birth of their first child.

Exhale the Dust by flutterbutt

Louis is a disgraced former pop star who needs help writing a single. (a Music and Lyrics AU)

A week later, the note from Breakfast Harry is still buried in Louis' kitchen drawer under forks and spoons and spatulas, all but forgotten. Louis is in bed (because it is only 11 o'clock, after all) when he gets another call from Herb. It's probably about opening for fucking Blue again. He'll probably say yes this time. He hates turning Herb down, especially since he knows that Herb most likely begged Blue's people to consider Louis in the first place.

we are honey and the bee by soleilouis

It isn’t his fault though, it is entirely the fault of whichever gods thought it would be a good idea to taunt Louis by dangling a curly haired boy in front of him with a mouth that can’t possibly be as soft as it looks, a mouth that requires further inspection with Louis’ own mouth. Unfortunately, Louis absolutely cannot do that, because it would go against all rules and guidelines in the Golden Handbook of Nanny and Employee Etiquette that he’s pretty sure exists.

au where harry plays rugby at uni, louis needs to hire a nanny, and life is one big cliche.

we were just like glue by togetherwecouldbealright

Louis works in a library where his own books sit on the shelves. Also, there may or may not be a Harry Styles involved and he may or may not be Louis' muse. Not that Louis is admitting to anything.

me and you and you and me (orphan_account)

On the occasion of Harry's 20th birthday, aka pretty much total FWP (fluff without plot).

It's All Brand New Because of You by supernope

It’s nearing six o’clock in the evening, and despite the fact that it’s summer, the aquarium has emptied out considerably and it’s quiet as Louis wanders the exhibits. A few people try to ask him questions as he wanders, but Louis knows less about the creatures in the tanks than they do, so he keeps having to apologize and explain that he’s just a counselor, not a biologist.

AKA, Louis starts a new job as a summer camp counselor at the local aquarium and Harry is a biologist who really likes teaching people about the ocean.

hold a hand for cover by vashtaneradas

they’ve still got all the money in the world, all the big nights and bigger houses, all the people at their doors with singles and album deals and promises of more, they still have all of that, and they will forever. the only thing they’ve burnt through is each other.

or, two years after the band, harry and louis bump into each other for the first time.

Under The Same Sun by FeelsForBreakfast

Louis and Harry live 400 miles away from each other. Sometimes it’s hard. (internet boyfriends, indie bands, and happy endings)

“I already miss you. I miss you all the damn time.” Louis says, because it’s late enough for honesty.

not fortune's fool by eleadore

The one where Louis goes to sleep in his X-Factor bunk and wakes up years in the future to discover things have... changed.

if you're for real and not pretend by brownheadedstranger

In which Harry works in a bakery and Louis can't seem to find what he's looking for.

Celebrity Discount by LoadedGunn

Louis fell for Prince Harry when he was ten and Harry was eight and peeked behind the Queen’s elegant gown for his first public appearance—a shy smile and a mess of curls. He fell for him when he caught Lottie putting up a magazine cover of Harry on her wall and all she had to say for herself was, “He’s such a good person, yeah?” and, yeah. He fell for him when Harry gracefully accepted his demotion. He fell for him when Harry came out and stayed out.

Truly, Madly, Deeply (10 Things I Hate About You) by sunsetmog

The first Louis had heard of Harry auditioning for X Factor was the night he'd turned up on Louis' doorstep the day before leaving for Boot Camp, with a DVD and an illicit bottle of vodka.

Thing was, Louis hated secrets, and he really hated being made a fool of, and he really, really hated Harry Styles.

or: the one in which they're all in sixth form together, and Harry auditions for X Factor without them.

Let the Words Fall Out by pertunes

It’s not a thing, he decides. It’s not going to be a thing, because his ears have been ringing for months and so what if some days he feels like he’s straining to hear what even Niall’s jabbering on about.

hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas

au; harry's in the army, louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

sugar never tasted so good by vashtaneradas

louis sells rock candy and harry sells flowers and london is cold; aka a dumb valentine’s au.

Always There by tothemoonmydear

Louis Tomlinson, of One Direction, has been almost completely blind since birth, the exception being he can see blotches of shadows and shapes; just enough to keep himself standing upright. He’s supposed to be doing an interview about being blind in a world wide famous boyband, instead his answers once again drift off to Harry Styles..

based off of this meme: http://icantlouis.tumblr.com/post/43865524622/au-meme-louis-tomlinson-of-one-direction-has

place your hands on my face, close my eyes by empress

Louis met Harry on the fifteenth of August. He would never forget that day.

Or, Louis is the star footballer of Manchester United, and Harry a member of the rising pop sensation, One Direction. They shouldn't work, but they do, anyway (based on this AU post on tumblr).

Keep Me In Your Pocket by ologist

Louis has been living in a teapot since he was miniaturised by a witch, but Harry is determined to break the curse.

To Build A Home (orphan_account)

A story about a broken boy and the boy who falls in love with him.

Call Me Baby by mediwitch3

Louis moves to Holmes-Chapel after his parents die in a car crash. He has custody of his five sisters, and it is through the youngest he meets Harry Styles, a preschool teacher. Life just got a lot more complicated for Louis.

All the Corners of the World by robpatFF

Written in response to these tags on Tumblr though I'd recommend not reading those first unless you want to be spoiled. Alternatively, university!AU in which Harry runs away to New York City with only his camera and a playlist and Louis doesn't have a good side.

just a memory (and all that we could've been) by trustingno1

"I think - there's something wrong. With Harry's memory," Louis says, and someone mutes the TV.

(or: Harry wakes up in a reality in which he and Louis are very much together. Which is pretty awesome. Or - it would be. If Harry could remember any of it).

once like a spark by flimsy

Louis is a bartender, and Harry is just his type.

"Can I get you anything else?" Louis asks and shimmies his hips along to the beat of the music. Zayn is giving him a look from the other end of the bar, frowning slightly at the line of people waiting to get a drink. Louis rolls his eyes and shrugs and turns his attention back to the boy, who ruffles his fringe and gives Louis a little lopsided grin.

Smaller Than Me by checkthemargins

Harry's just finished his first year of uni on his way to becoming Dr. Harry Styles, Neurosurgeon. He's young, he has endless potential, three amazing best mates, a new love and the world at his fingertips. The fact that his new boyfriend may or may not be a sex-worker, of course, throws a wrench into the works. But it's not true. Really.

Probably.

It most definitely might not be entirely true. And that's all Harry needs to know.

If You Build Yourself a Myth by pukeandcry

Harry is six the first time he makes something change. (magical realism AU)

How Would You Feel (If I Told You I Loved You) by Only_angel_28

An AU inspired by the music video for Ed Sheeran's song Perfect featuring two idiots who are too thick to see that their friendship is anything but platonic, lots of pining, too many terms of endearment to count, a wedding, slow dancing, a couple of steamy hot tub moments, karaoke, snow, a healthy dose of cuddling, love confessions, and Harry and Louis being quite generous to each other.

*Or the one where Harry has been in love with his best friend for four years, and New Year's Eve at his family's holiday home in Switzerland is perfect for finally telling Louis how he feels.

Boy Interrupted by MrsStylinson

Five times that Harry walks in on Louis by accident and the one time he walks in on purpose.

Or, the one where they can only resist each other for so long, featuring some epic sexual tension, a heavy dose of pining, a hint of angst and a fluffy ending.

reminiscing the other day by tilthesundies

“Spain,” Harry says. “This weekend.”

Louis blinks. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

“Asking,” he says with a huff.

Harry's invited to a wedding, and there's only so much Louis can hide.

Take Care of Me by louissketios

Louis is the fan that asks Harry to find him a date at his concert and Harry offers to take Louis out on a date instead.

Promise Not to Fall by dimpled_halo

Louis raises his eyebrows. “You want to be friends with benefits?”

Harry shrugs, “If that’s what you want to call it then, yeah. Why not?”

Louis brings his hand to rub the stubble on his jaw, seeming lost in his own thoughts. “Okay, I’ll agree on three conditions.”

“One: no sleep overs.”

Harry nods, “Okay."

“Two: if either of us finds someone else we call it off no questions asked.”

Harry isn’t sure why his stomach turns at that, but he agrees anyway.

“And three,” Louis’ face hardens, “you cannot, under any circumstances, fall in love with me.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah, okay,” he chuckles lightly.

or- When One Direction goes on hiatus, Harry and Louis reconnect, becoming the friends they once were during their days in the X Factor. It doesn’t take long for their friendship to evolve into friends with benefits, unable to resist the physical attraction between them. Things get complicated when feelings get in the way.

Oh, We're In Love, Aren't We? by Rearviewdreamer

After sixteen wonderful years of friendship, it's hard to imagine any grand (and usually dumb) plans they haven't had or some type of mischief they haven't gotten into together. But, when Harry suddenly finds himself without a fiance and Louis just wants to help him feel okay again, they realize falling in love is one thing they haven't done, and that's about to change.

Big Dicked Bottoms Make the Rockin’ World Go Round by YesIsAWorld

Harry was tired of the assumptions made about his sexual preferences and he wasn't afraid to (drunkenly) post on Tumblr about it. The last thing he expected was to find his perfect partner.

Seven Minutes in Heaven by Canadianlarrie (canadianlarrie)

It’s musty, it's confined and its where lost musical instruments go to die. It also happens to be where Harry and Louis are currently standing after being forced into the alcove under the basement stairs at Niall’s house for Seven Minutes in Heaven.

First kisses rarely happen as imagined – they’re awkward, ill-timed and sloppy af.

The one where Harry and Louis kiss and the whole thing’s kind of a hot glorious mess.

Surrender My Everything by crimsontheory

After his flight was delayed, Harry showed up stressed out, exhausted, and four hours late for his date with Louis.

Waiting For Someone Who Needs Me by graceling_in_a_suit

Harry huffed in frustration. His feet pigeon-toed as he took a step forward. “None?” he asked with a hint of desperation. “You have nothing that you need?” Louis shook his head. “Listen. I’ve a million things that I want, like for the Donny Rovers to get to finals and for our band to do well and to write better songs and for my mum to be able to pay off her mortgage, but I don’t need any of those things. There’s a difference.”

AU: Harry is a genie, and Louis doesn't think he needs anything.

You Wear White (I'll Wear Out The Words) by rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife)

“You’re drunk Harry. And you can’t possibly get married by the end of this week.” “Why not?” Harry asked, stubbornly jutting his chin up. “I’m a great person.” “Because you’re single, Harry, that's why,” Niall remarked as he plopped down on the opposite side of the booth.

Harry is desperate to get married before the end of the week. In walks Louis.

Bad Girl Riri by 13ways

Harry and Louis have a cat named Rihanna. She has opinions.

Do I need to worry? by enigma_scars

Louis needs to blow bubbles to get rid of his smoking addiction. Harry finds Louis cute and strikes a conversation head on. Louis finds Harry creepy and dangerous.

One Mississippi by AlwaysAqua

“What are you even doing here, Louis?” Harry asked faintly through the door.

“Trust me, if I had anywhere else to go,” Louis paused and reflected on the absolute shit show his week had thrown at him. He sighed, “If I had anywhere else to go, I wouldn’t be here. I promise you that. You know you’re the last person I would ask to help me.”

Or, Louis and Harry broke up two years ago and now Louis has nowhere else to go and Harry reluctantly lets him back in.

The Depth and the Breadth and the Height by phdmama

"What do you need?"

Over the course of a life together, the answer to that question changes.

truth, justice, and the gay way by hattalove

Liam needs a costume. Louis needs a best best friend award, a holiday, and to get a grip.

(Harry's just in the right place at the right time.)

Needing is One Thing, and Getting—Getting’s Another by kiwikero

Six months and moving back home is what it takes for Louis to finally start getting over his divorce.

Backstage, Sex and Outrage by taggiecb

Prompt #20: your chance to do it in a specific location

Louis loves working towards a goal. His friends say having a goal in life is the only thing that keeps him sane some days. Right now he is working towards his before twenty five bucket list, and fate must have been smiling on him the day he won tickets for a show at Wembly, getting into one of the locker rooms is something he will have to think about later. Plus it doesn't hurt that the show he's seeing is his favourite celebrity crush Harry Styles.

I’d Like To Buy an ‘O’ by FallingLikeThis

When Louis fails at Wheel of Fortune but, by some miracle, not his love life.

If Only You (Knew) by LadyLondonderry

Catch a busy train at a busy time. Find a seat and look like you’ve been there a while. Feign sleep. Look like you belong there. Look like you haven’t been living out of a rucksack for four months.

Don’t look homeless.

When Louis needs somewhere to go, he finds himself in an abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere. Unknown to him, he's stumbled on the home of someone else, and they're not too happy about it.

Coming and Going (Anonymous)

Harry is a shy loner looking for someone who will help him discover his new found sexual fantasies. Louis is a lonely writer who doesn't realize how much he has secluded himself. They are brought together by a simple ad, and a common interest.

All in 'Cause of You by crimsontheory

Harry was married to the most amazing man in the world and he was ready to take the next step of their relationship. As he journeyed down the road of adoption, he realized it was bumpier than he had anticipated.

drive all night to keep her warm by thepriestthinksitsthedevil (stubliminalmessaging)

After a devastating break-up, Harry discovers that his life is depressingly empty. He spends some time with his best friend Niall and Niall's lovable oaf of a golden retriever and realizes that the missing piece in his life is a pet. Unfortunately, the pet that seizes Harry's heart is a sickly puppy who is hostile towards people after a history of abuse and neglect from her previous owners. Can Harry, with the help of the handsome vet, Dr. Tomlinson, earn this puppy's love and nurse her back to health?

Sing With Me (just for today) by Eleven_11

When Harry arrives at Camp Half Blood as a clumsy and terrified 12-year-old, he has no clue what he's doing, just that he really wants to be friends with this Louis kid. Louis has been at camp for five years when Harry shows up, and he still doesn't know who his godly parent is. Everything Louis does is in hope of catching his dad’s attention. Everything Harry does is in hopes of being enough.

The story picks up in the Percy Jackson universe after the Titan War and right in the middle of the conflict with the Giants. Louis is one of the demigods left behind to defend the camp, and Harry just discovered he's a demigod.

Calling Love by AlwaysAqua

“Can I just say I miss you? Is that allowed? I know we said we said there’s no point in saying it because we can’t change the time apart. But I just really fucking miss you.” — This whole fic is a voicemail.

Hope by kiwikero

Louis was, emphatically, not a cat person.

Roses in the Rain by theweightofmywords

“Don’t- I know what you’re going to ask, and I… Harry, I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. You know that I can’t.”

Louis had his six siblings and his old house with its falling-apart porch to take care of. This town was where people still approached him, 8 years after high school graduation, to tell him that they loved him as Danny in Grease. This town was where he had his pick of suitors, where he had his first kiss, where he took his first steps, where his mama lived, died, and was buried, and he couldn’t leave just to follow some man that he loved.

Harry, for now, seemed to understand that.

“Okay, baby,” Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Okay.”

I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by FallingLikeThis

Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

Heart of a Lion (With Metal in His Teeth) by graceling_in_a_suit

The man sighed impatiently. “Can you confirm your mission, please, you useless piece of junk.” Harry smiled politely. “Mission Code: 645-a3. Status: incomplete. Description: assess the situation on Olivia, report all findings to Captain Cowell and his board of advisors in three to five days. Specifically, locate and analyse the citizen known as Louis Tomlinson, suspected leader of the current strike, and present a strategy for destabilising his movement.”

Harry is an Android. Louis is his target: a revolutionary leader trying to free his people.

(01110100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01100110 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101.)

Hiding in the Rain by asphodelknox

Louis’s used to the bullies. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy Harry Styles dragging him off on adventures to avoid them.

This Soft and Fluffy Thing Called by LadyLondonderry

Harry waits.

He waits for his eleventh birthday. He waits with bated breath. He waits and waits and waits and watches the post for the letter - the letter that decides his fate - the letter from Hogwarts.

or, the one where Harry was adopted as a baby, his downstairs neighbor is Louis, and he really should learn not to keep things bottled up.

Love, This Wild Thing by asphodelknox

Paris, the City of Love. Harry's hiding an unused Tinder account and Louis's hiding how much he doesn't want to go home. They find what they need in each other.

You're Gonna Pay for This by Eleven_11

“'NO!” Three sets of hands moved to grab Harry, and he was so startled that he jumped into the air from his nearly seated position on their new couch, butt just inches away from the pristine leather. He scanned the faces of the four boys in front of him, all colored with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and embarrassment. Harry was at a loss. “Why?” he sighed. " --- Or, Louis and Harry get something new, and the boys refuse to break it in. Chaos and ridiculousness ensue.

Teenage Dirtbag by 13ways

Louis loves Harry. Harry dislikes confinement. They play some dodgeball and kiss.

A Pun-derful Life by AlwaysAqua

Falling in love with his best friend was never part of the plan, but it happened. It keeps happening; Over and over again on a daily basis. Sometimes, even that’s too long between falling in love.

Or, Harry and Louis use too many puns as a means to make each other laugh.

Back To One by FallingLikeThis

Harry opens his eyes to a blinding white light. It fades gingerly and he blinks as his eyes adjust to his surroundings. There’s a soft cushion beneath his bum and his legs are crisscrossed in front of him. He’s only wearing a pair of white boxer briefs for some reason but he’s oddly comfortable wearing so little in a strange place. Slowly, he becomes aware of a crinkling sound and looks down to find that he holds a square of paper in his hands.

Neutral Good it says in pretty, flowy handwriting.

“Hello, everyone!” A chipper voice calls out, capturing Harry’s attention and pulling his eyes towards its location. He takes in the woman suddenly standing before him with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Welcome to The Afterlife."

a house built out of stone by robpatFF

Louis has a used bookshop and Harry has a habit of claiming things that don't belong to him.

Through the Darkest of Your Days by robpatFF

"Harry thinks he might not really know what okay is, but Louis is warm next to him, solid and constant and questioning. He’s all wide eyes and nerves and vulnerability. And this feels alright, this might be some sort of okay, Harry thinks." Future!fic, roadtrip!fic, OT5 friendship!fic.

Only Several Miles From the Sun by robpatFF

It started with a walk and unexpected rain and Babs. It started with a smile and green eyes and a bag of warm apple cinnamon muffins. Actually, it started with the bakery. Bakery AU, because of reasons.

Fate's A Bitch Really (Yes) by CalamityK

Louis is twenty-three now, and painfully aware that “Yes.” Is quite a common response when first meeting someone. ----- or that soulmate au where everyone has the first words their soulmate is supposed to say to them tattooed on their body

Have You Coming Back Again by whoknows

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

Nice Boy Seeks Same For Hook-Up by LittleMousling

From a kinkmeme prompt: Louis wants to lose his virginity but doesn't want anyone at school to know he's gay. In order to finally get with a guy, he posts an ad on Craigslist.

Harry Styles answers.

like a simile, i paint suggestive pictures (of me and you) by dangerbears

louis is a TA for an english 101 class and harry is stupid gorgeous which of course leads to a morality crisis.

Hiding Out in the Kitchen by LittleMousling

Harry's in an internationally famous boyband with his three best mates, he gets laid on a pretty regular basis, and he's headed to Australia in a week. He doesn't need anything else, and he certainly doesn't need a boyfriend. If this nice guy he met in a coffeeshop wants to date him, great—but that's all it is. Right?

when i feel that something by somerdaye

In which Harry and Louis are put into a duo instead of a group, and Louis Googles asexuality.

Some Say It's a Blessing, Some Say It's a Curse by homelesshats

In a world where humans are blessed with timers on their wrists to tell them precisely when they'll meet their soulmate, Harry has waited his whole life -- eighteen years, six months, one week and five days exactly -- for this day.

scared that i couldn’t find all the answers, honey by cathedralhearts

from the 1dkinkmeme on livejournal; niall writes larry stylinson fan fiction

If You Weren't Real I'd Make You Up by FeelsForBreakfast

These are the facts: This is a love story. Harry can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. Louis doesn’t eat.

blackjacks running down my back by dangerbears

AU. university stuff. best friend stuff. music stuff. sappy stuff.

You're The One That I Want by spacecakesandmilkshakes

Harry had always been Louis' best friend and...well...his baby, until one day he realized that his baby was all grown up.

Make Tea, Not War by howdoyouwhisk (popsongdelusional)

"Is he the messiest?"

"Yes."

"Does he do the washing up?"

"Never."

"Does he make his bed?"

"Never."

"Hopeless, hopeless flatmate. Would you rather be with one of these guys?"

"Nope!"

Or: Louis attempts to become a better flatmate, much to Harry's dismay.

So much stays unknown till the time has come by becka

While on holiday in 2011, Louis has an unexpected visitor from his future.

if it's me you're looking for by eleadore

Louis has a bad habit of getting drunk before he confesses--or maybe it's the other way around. AU.

touch my neck and i'll touch yours by amongseafarers, gravitycentered

Harry feels the press of Louis’ leg against his side and the flimsy cotton of Louis’ pajamas. “Soft,” he mumbles, curling his hand around Louis’ thigh and using the grip to pull himself closer, nestling his face into the side of Louis’ hip.

Where Your Heart Is by antihetharry, tvshows_addict

Louis is ready for his brand new adventure. So what if he suffers from a genetic condition that prevents him from being touched? College is going to be awesome. It has to. Karma kind of owes him right now. Forget about his overprotective mother, or Liam-- his entirely too chipper step brother-- or his mess of a roommate. Forget about the gloves he has to wear at all times. He’s here to expand his knowledge, write and drown himself in books -- No matter how distracting ‘Hallway Boy’ may be-- The obnoxious, flirty frat wannabe determined to become the bane of Louis’ existence.

Or, a college AU set in San Francisco where two lost boys who seemingly have nothing in common find inspiration, each other, and themselves in the process.

Gracious Goes the Ghost of You by haloeverlasting

And there it was again. That heaviness, that shift in the air that makes everything feel just a little slower. It’s like just moving forward makes him sore from the exertion. It’s not in the least physical, it’s his heart and mind and soul that feels stretched and pushed too far. It’s those moments, where his heart feels like it’s thudding only because it still can, that Louis feels the itch to glance at the clock. When he aches to know how long it’s been and maybe a part of him is wondering how long it will be. If this time, when he checks the clock, he’ll feel the same shame for his long stint of grief, but it will be followed by some sort of pride. He’s made it this far, and “because it still can” is a perfectly good reason for his heart to keep beating.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asks.

Louis hums, shifting a little to rest his head on top of Harry’s. “Is this your new question?"

“Yeah,” he whispers, softly.

“Just… thinking about how long it’s been. And how long it may be before it doesn’t hurt so much anymore."

Harry is a ghost who comes to visit. Louis feels like a ghost, himself. In forgiveness, they find their way back to life.

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can't Sleep) by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

try to not remember (rather than forget) by hereforlou

Harry hadn’t left, not really. He had been right there the entire time. And that’s what had made it worse, knowing that his body was within touching distance but his mind, everything that made Harry Harry, was lost somewhere Louis wasn’t able to reach.

He hadn’t left, but that’s what it had felt like most of the time. Just as if one day Harry had up and left him.

(Or the one where Harry wakes up.)

Say You'll Remember by whisperdlullaby

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

things unspoken by stylinsoncity

he wants to say it. he’s waited his whole life to say it. but how do you tell your childhood best friend you want them?

So Much Left to Say by myownspark

Reason #32: Cheer Someone Up.

Harry remembers Louis stalking along the Cougar’s sideline as the final seconds of the game ticked away. He was apart from everyone, with his arms crossed and his head down, sort of fragile looking even in his pads and helmet. Harry’s fingers actually itched to hold his hand, just as they do now. He holds the phone up to take a selfie and smiles into the camera, trying to ask Louis a question with his eyes. (Are you really okay? Tell me the truth. I bet you’re sitting on your bed, playing Madden, sulking. If you want to see me, I’ll come. I know you better than anyone. You’re sad. I’d like to come.) He pushes send.

(Harry and Louis play for rival high school football teams, and when they play against each other in the Homecoming game, someone has to lose.)

kiwi by fondleeds

With a stuttered mixture of a laugh and a groan, Harry lets his head droop, pushes his forehead against Louis’ chest and leans into him, fingers curled around the railing.

"You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes.

Louis lets out a puff of laughter, and when Harry lifts his eyes, the look in Louis’ gaze is one he knows too well, so distinctively coy and mischievous and gently charming, his lips quirked up with a smirk. Harry’s heart falls into the palms of his playful hands. “You’re into it.”

AU. Harry plays on Saturday nights at The Motley. Louis bartends on Saturday nights at The Motley.

It’s a thing.

Things That Go Hump in the Night by haloeverlasting, indiaalphawhiskey

“I thought you said I make everything fun,” Harry replies with a curt shrug. “I thought you liked trying new things with me.”

Harry is clearly upset with him, and camping or no, Louis was hoping for a good weekend all the same.

“You do make everything fun, but I’m warning you right now. This isn’t something new we’re trying. This is a well established hatred and I’m fucking cursed, so this isn’t going to be fun.” Louis hates how petulant he sounds, but it’s true. Camping never has and never will go well for him. And sure, maybe part of that is his attitude, but the attitude has only come from a consistent cause and effect in his life.

Louis goes camping. Something horrible happens. Louis is miserable.

It’s science.

Or, the one where Louis is right.

Things Gone Cold by MediaWhore

"your heart is warm for things gone cold.”— Sophocles, Antigone

With his soulmate’s thoughts about him written on his skin and the world’s eyes trailing his every movement, Harry Styles is having a bit of a rough time releasing his second album in peace. And that’s not even counting the breakup. Or the car crash.

Ever Fixed by delsicle

Three years ago, Harry was happily married, successfully heading the largest technology company in the world, and raising his young daughter. After he loses nearly everything in the aftermath of his daughter’s lost battle with a rare brain tumor, it may take three strange and yet very familiar visitors – and a man from the therapy group Harry keeps refusing to go to – to get him back on track.

Based on the film Collateral Beauty

The Melody You Never Heard by bananasandboots

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

One for Luck by leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

we've got to get away from here by suspendrs

“It is my understanding that you are the most comprehensive member of this agency in the field of extraterrestrial life, is that right?” the agent asks. He’s trying to sound calm, but Louis can tell he’s shaken as well.

“Um, I guess so,” Louis says, glancing over at the man in the blanket again.

Suddenly, Louis’s blood runs cold. There’s something off about the man, something in his gaze, something Louis can’t put his finger on. It’s terribly unsettling, but excitement bubbles in his gut.

Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is the alien that somehow ended up in his office.

love is divine by stylinsoncity

Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.

Sing When You're Winning by hazmesentir

Harry is fifteen minutes late to the office on the day Louis Tomlinson comes out as gay.

Or, the one where Harry's a chronically underpaid magazine intern and Louis is the Premier League's first gay footballer and pretty much the last thing they need is each other.

the impossible now by stylinsoncity

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Finding Lou by stylinsoncity

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

I'll Know My Name As It's Called Again by pukeandcry

Louis wakes up in Harry's body. This is a problem for several reasons.

Devil in the Bible Belt by TinyBeautifulTales (MikeandHarveyTime)

A Shameless AU starring Louis as Fiona and Harry as Jimmy/Steve.

(or, Louis is raising his seven siblings by himself, and Harry steals cars and crash lands into Louis' life. Together, they navigate south side Chicago and love.)

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Those are the Days That Bind Us (Together Forever) by nightwideopen

Soulmate AU where when two soulmates meet they can hear each other's thoughts for a limited amount of time.

My Excuse To Write Teacher!Louis

je vole by nightwideopen

Two best friends, two broken boys on the run from themselves who managed to land a safe space in the heart of a beautiful city.

Harry and Louis are thieves in Paris. They're all the other has.

(Alternatively titled Pink.)

Don't Act Like It's a Bad Thing to Fall in Love by nightwideopen

Louis was born blind, completely blind, leaving him with nothing but the absolute blackness that his lack of vision produces.

Harry, on the other hand, is deaf. No sound can be registered by the two tiny ears his rowdy, chocolate curls obscure so well.

The first time Louis and Harry meet, it’s sort of an accident.

Take What's Mine by jaerie

Years after he is kidnapped, his life altered forever, Louis goes through the motions in a way that barely feels like living. Harry is a wild card, a forbidden fruit that Louis swore off of before he even had a chance to experience it. Maybe, in the end, Harry holds the key to being reborn. Louis just has to be open to the idea first.

(End game: this is a comfort/healing fic)

Wholehearted by TheMagicWord

AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.

Peaches and Cream by seducedbycurls

The study was to see if two strangers could live together for a month and fall in love.

“We are a new organization working to prove that love can do extraordinary things.” “You will do everything together & you are not allowed to leave the resort for the whole month.” “We want to prove that opposites attract.”

Louis is allergic to peaches, Harry smells like peaches. Louis just came for the money.

Singing To Tiny Dancer by BriaMaria

“Yes!” Harry punched a fist into the air. He laughed at the confusion that wrinkled the little space between Louis’ brows.

“What?”

“You’re flirting with me,” Harry smiled, letting his dimples pop.

Louis’ face went blank for two seconds and then he rolled his eyes, one side of his mouth lifting. “Am not.”

“You soooo are,” Harry sang out, poking him in the shoulder. “You like me.”

“I was simply showing you how to actually bring… what did you call it? Your A-game.”

Harry adopted a patronizing expression, sure it would piss him off. “And you did great. Really.”

“Oi, fuck off,” Louis said, but he was actually laughing now. Outright. It was gorgeous and Harry wanted to live in this moment forever. It was the very best one he’d experienced. He wanted to always remember the image of Louis’ crinkled eyes, the sound of his breathy giggles, the smell of citrus that radiated off him as he swayed in his amusement. And Louis didn’t even know his name.

Or ... When everything gets to be a bit too much for A-list actor Louis Tomlinson, he runs back to the town he had never really called home and the boy who was the only one he did.

All the Lines We Cast Will Bring Us Home by afirethatcannotdie

Harry wakes to a series of tweet notifications.

@Louis_Tomlinson: Sooo excited to announce I’m going on tour !! In America in 5 weeks and then coming back to the UK ! Get tix here: bit.ly/LTonTour @Louis_Tomlinson: Gonna be siiiick !! “Niall!” he yells, running out of his room. “Louis is performing at the O2 in January. Niall, I have to go. Wait. Niall. Oh my god, we’re gonna see Louis Tomlinson’s bum.”

AU. The one where Louis is a famous singer, Harry's a uni student obsessed with his music, and sometimes things have a way of working out.

say you want me (orphan_account)

Louist95: @HarryStyles, I’m personally offended that you haven’t invited me to your concert in Leeds next week. Proper fan I am and all.

HarryStyles: @Louist95 Proper fan? I’m personally offended on behalf of all our fans everywhere that you’ve lumped yourself with them.

~ A Famous/Not-Famous AU featuring Liam, Zayn, and Harry as the members of Sonic Boom, an English band that unexpectedly sky rocketed to international fame, Niall as their biggest fan, and Louis as the exact opposite. Harry’s a closeted pop star and Louis is the uni student he keeps fighting with on Twitter. It’s all silly banter until it turns into something else.

Cosmic Love by smittenwithlouis

Sudden chills rake over his body yet again, making him stay rooted to the ground. Static in the air makes every hair on his body stand up straight. That's when he notices something a couple feet in front of him lying on the ground. It’s what appears to be a person, weird white beams snaking around them like Christmas lights. Louis' heart rate picks up. Is the person alright? What are they doing here? What the fuck is happening? Or: Louis lives in a small, desert town in the middle of nowhere Texas, yet a strange visitor manages to find Louis among the stars.

who we used to be by itsnotbleak

“The doctor said he might remember,” Gemma said. “If he was around familiar things. Mum thinks that means he needs to stay with her forever, spend all day looking at old baby pictures and school photos. But he remembers all that perfectly. It’s living with you and your weird gang of lost boys that he doesn’t remember.”

“And you think the best way to jog his memory is some weird kind of full-emersion re-enactment?”

“It might be,” said Gemma. “It can’t hurt to try.”

An au where Harry and Louis used to be together, and then they broke up, and now Harry can’t remember any of it.

we've got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

the dark and the dentist by sunshiner

“I know this song,” Louis whispers, and Harry has to lean his ear toward him to pick up what he’s saying. “It was written for people to dance to it. We should be dancing.” We can’t, Harry almost spits, but it’d be stupid of him. Louis knows they can’t. Even if he looks like any regular Parisian in their twenties, and Harry looks like any hipster Parisian in their twenties, they can’t anyway. To be fair, they probably wouldn’t do it even if they were out. But if they were two uni students, both in Paris for an exchange, meeting over fallen books at the library, or because of mutual friends, or watching Monet’s Water Lilies? “How would we dance?” Harry murmurs, mouth almost pressed to Louis’ cheek, so close he can feel his warmth. What a picture they must make, two millionaires freezing in a park and dreaming of a different life. An account of the events of November 2014. Canon-compliant.

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor

Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own.

My Saddle's Waiting by crimsontheory

It's late and Harry is bored. He texts his one night stand from last week for a quick, no strings attached hookup. As it turns out, the guy gave Harry the wrong number and it ends up being Louis instead.

Saw It In Your Eyes by taggiecb

Harry Styles counts himself extremely lucky that he has landed such a great roommate. It doesn’t bother him at all that his new roommate is gay. In fact, they get along so well that they have formed an extremely close friendship that takes up pretty much all his free time. When Louis starts bringing a new guy home with him, Harry is surprised by how much it bothers him. Is he not as okay as he thought he was with Louis’ sexuality?

Or the one where Harry is an oblivious walnut.

This Winter's Day by QuickedWeen

Dear Mr. Harry Edward Styles, We regret to inform you of the passing of your cousin Lord Edward William Seaward, the Viscount Merston. Please contact us at your earliest convenience. Sincerely, Messrs. Pratt, Rutherford, and Spaulding

Louis is Harry's stablemaster, and when he falls ill and his mother turns to Harry to help her try and find someone he can settle down with, it's only natural that Harry suggests himself.

There is my heart for you to hold (Feel the beat, feel the one blood?) by larrycaring

“You,” the man says simply, voice slightly breathless.

Louis instantly frowns, eyes narrowed. He feels like he recognizes the man, but he can’t put his finger on where he saw him. “What are you doing here?” he asks instead, trying to make his voice sound firm and assured.

The man’s alarmed face changes, the corner of his lips rising in a smirk. “I could ask you the same thing, bawcock.”

Louis’ frown deepens at the endearment, because this man and he are certainly not on that level yet.

“I’m a journalist,” Louis says, even though it’s a lie. He is pretty sure the boy can’t really legally justify his presence either.

“You too?” the man replies, his smirk constant on his face. It’s like he’s sharing a private joke Louis can’t understand, or remember. “So you are also here, in this blood-spattered hotel room, for some folklore stories?”

And then, Louis remembers.

Harold E. Styles.

or a vampire AU where famous vampire hunter Louis meets human Harry, and they go through hell to stay together and have their forever.

Strip That Down by Domeaspreadsheet

“Does this have something to do with Louis being into nipple piercings?”

Liam feels his mouth drop open, and snaps it shut quickly. “No. Why on earth would you think that?”

“Maybe because Louis told me he told you he thinks it’s hot on guys, and now you’ve convinced Harry to do it, three minutes after Louis walks out the door.”

“Well. When you put it that way.” Liam sighs. “Fine. I think they should be together. Thought this might help.”

Niall smacks him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something? I’ve been hoping those two would get it together for years.”

Four strippers. Possible fun. A New Year’s Eve matchmaking plot. Will it work?

Sympathy For The Devil by taggiecb

Louis keeps stealing some of Harry’s mail, which would be annoying for anyone, but it’s especially troubling when you consider that Harry is Santa Claus. Harry will have to go through hell to get Louis to stop. Literally.

Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

It's All Brand New by midnightwhistleberries

“Harry,” Louis intones emphatically, “literally everyone in the U.K. has known that I’m openly bisexual since 2011.”

“’Cept you, I guess,” supplies Niall.

In which Harry studies engineering, loves Madonna, and can't tell if Louis likes him or just keeps coming back to the record store because he's some sort of musical hoarder. Louis is famous, Harry has no idea, communication issues are rampant and fluffy pining ensues.

you pull me in by yoursongonmyheart

“Did you really wear silk jammies to meet him?” Fizzy is almost in tears.

He’s going to kill them.

He’s really going to kill them.

Ernie throws his backpack on the floor before telling Fizzy, quite loudly, “Mr. Styles looked at Achoo like this” and making an exaggerated jaw dropped face.

“That is not what happened!” Louis protests.

“And Achoo looked at Mr. Styles like that, too!” Doris pulls the same face before laughing.

------

//or the one where Louis is a model, Harry teaches Doris and Ernie at primary and now might be a good time to fall in love.

all the kingdom lights shine just for me and you by hypocorism

“I can help the baby, for I have not yet given my gift.” Caroline smiles and waves as the audience cheers appreciatively. “Although, tragically, I cannot reverse the work of such a powerful opponent, I can mediate the effects. Prince Harry will not die, but will fall into a deep and peaceful sleep. From this slumber, he can only be awoken by a kiss from his true love! Once she is found, his safety will be ensured!” Happy sighs all around.

“Thank you, good fairy Caroline,” the king says politely. “We are in your debt.” She beams and the other three fairies look mildly annoyed.

“I knew she was full of it when she said she ‘couldn’t think of a good gift,’” one of them whispers to the other two. “I was supposed to go last!”

In My Place by kassio

Prince Louis has it all. He's wealthy, privileged, famous, and handsome, with a loving family and a world of opportunities. There's only one problem: he isn't actually the queen's son.

Harry and Niall Horan don't have much, but they have a dream: to win the X Factor and achieve something more than their normal middle-class life.

Two dreams collide and two very different paths come together when Louis requests to meet with Harry after seeing him on the X Factor.

Even As Young As You Are by ologist

Harry’s sister has a baby. When he goes to meet her, he finds more than one new love of his life at the hospital.

Two Steps Behind by sacredheart (orphan_account)

"Can I play?" He's far away enough that he almost has to yell a little bit. He's got one leg steadying him on the ground, and he's holding the handles of his bike as tightly as he can. He doesn't want to fall off in front of the older kids - the cooler kids.

"We've got four of us, though, and we don't want uneven teams," Zayn lies apologetically, and Louis frowns. He's not stupid. They don't want to play with him. "Maybe tomorrow." That's also a lie, because Zayn said the same thing yesterday and now it's tomorrow and Louis is being told no, again. His head is spinning with rejection and confusion and, most of all, disappointment.

(Or, Louis is two years younger than his neighbors, Harry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn, and he grows up bending over backwards to get their attention and acceptance. Especially Harry's.)

You and The Moon and Neptune (Got it Right) by alienharry

Of all the different ways Louis had pictured meeting his soulmate, he never imagined he’d come second to his little sister. He assumed he’d have met his own soulmate by now, that he’d already be married and sickeningly in love, guiding his kid sister through these new and confusing feelings. He wanted one hand on his soulmate’s waist and the other on Lottie’s back as he told her that everything was okay and she wasn’t moving too fast.

Of all the ways Harry saw his life going, being a 23-year-old sales associate at Harrods and hating every minute of it was not what he envisioned for himself. If he’s being honest, he saw himself in Peru or China or - hell - even fucking Denver, just traveling. He wants to see the world, not oversee the women’s department 36 hours a week.

---

Louis has always wanted to meet his soulmate; he's built his life around the plan that one day his soulmate would come along, and they could begin their happily ever after.

Harry has always wanted to travel; he's built his life around the idea that nothing is permanent, and seeing the world is his only objective - soulmates mean nothing to him after all.

Home for the Holly Days by LadyLondonderry

There he is, bowl of batter in one arm and whisk in the other. The wireless is blaring something that distinctly sounds like Fairytale of New York, which would make sense with how much Harry loves muggle music.

But. The thing is, is he's doing some terribly odd moves, swaying his hips slightly out of pace with the music but with so much more passion than Louis thinks he's ever seen anybody display about this song. His apron, down to his knees, is swishing back and forth as he moves and - dear lord - his shorts don't even reach as low as the hem of his apron.

Louis has to get out of here.

Or, Louis’s participating in the Secret Santa exchange between all the Hogwarts professors stuck at school over the winter holidays, and the Sorting Hat may fancy itself a bit of a matchmaker.

The Fairy Ring by thedeathchamber

Harry has dreamed of a world outside the tiny village of Holmes Chapel for as long as he can remember... a world full of magic and adventure and true love. It was nothing but a childhood dream, however, until an old family friend comes bearing word of a plot against Harry's life and a very dangerous truth: Harry is the rightful heir to the crown and must embark on a perilous quest to reclaim his throne from the ruthless would-be King Simon. But in the end Harry will find himself fighting for more than a crown, and on the verge of losing something much more precious than his sovereign power. Because magic might be real, but life is not a fairy tale, and Harry is a prince up against a very big dragon.

Or: a medieval fantasy AU in which Harry is a prince in disguise and Louis is the king of the faeries.

I see London, I see France by incandescentlight

Harry Potter AU. Louis is working at the coffee shop when the most gorgeous boy walks in. Harry is an eighth year Beauxbatons student and Louis is determined not to fall in love because Harry returns to France in four months.

kiss me like it's christmas, hold on 'til we're breathless by itjustkindahappened

Louis is broke and in desperate need of a coat, Harry is a rich kid who catches him shoplifting and they accidently go on a date.

tether beat by turnyourankle

Prince Harry meets his longtime celebrity crush, Louis Tomlinson, after the Royal Variety Performance.

just a dream by BriaMaria

“Won’t you join me?” The voice was soft, more melody than anything else. It wrapped around Louis, silken bands that tugged at his arms, at his chest.

He didn’t step out of the shadows. “No.”

The man in the pond smiled, sad and sweet and knowing, and then sunk beneath the water in the next heartbeat. The butterflies that had adorned his chest like jewelry, that had tangled in his dark curls, fluttered away.

Or the one where Louis is the king of the forest, Harry is friends with butterflies and a war is brewing on the horizon.

your eyes are like starlight now by babyboylouis

“Yeah. Me, Daddy, and Buttons. That’s my puppy. I named him. Sometimes we call him Butt for short,” Olivia told him, looking up at the boy with a full smile, minus her two front teeth. Louis realised that talking to this girl was more fun than talking to Zayn. Zayn was a little shit, though, so that was understandable.

or the one where louis hates his job as an elf at the shopping mall, but hates it a lot less when he meets olivia and her hot daddy

Let's Raise a Cup by YesIsAWorld

Louis is a telekinetic bartender and uses his super special powers to cheer up recently-broken-up-with Harry.

which is sweeter love or its loss by patdkitten

After he catches his boyfriend cheating on him, Louis runs away from London and answers an ad to housesit an estate in the Yorkshire Moors while the mysterious owner is away. It's easy enough to forget about his problems when confronted with the routine that exists in a former abbey in the moors, when the only people around are a cat and the caretaker.

And then the mysterious owner returns.

Don't Put Out the Glow by backonefish

"He fists out a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black tee. Nothing wrong there. Then he sees an atrocious Hawaiian shirt in Zayn’s hand and he starts digging through the bag urgently, pulling out more and more items that don’t belong to him"

Or: The one where Louis picks up the wrong bag on his way to Paris.

The Powerful, Immovable Object You Can't Change by LiveLaughLoveLarry

627: The dread of your own hotheadedness

Louis couldn't be happier about Lottie and Tommy finally getting married. Except for the presence of his Aunt Martha.

~*~*~

Harry looked between Louis and Martha. “Is this… the aunt?” he asked.

Only Harry could manage to be that polite, yet still manage to convey that much disdain. Louis turned back to Martha, who was frowning at both of them, and gave her a smile that mirrored the false sweetness of her own. “Aunt Martha, this is Harry,” he said. “My boyfriend for the past five years. As you can see, I think he’d have some objections to my finding a nice girl, or a wife. Harry, this is my aunt Martha.”

“Charmed, I'm sure” Harry said, making no motion to shake her hand.

In A World Full Of Wrong (You're The Thing That's Right) by LiveLaughLoveLarry

Harry is a vampire. Louis is a vampire Hunter. This sounds like a bad idea already, doesn’t it? Yeah, it probably was. Feat. Vampire!Zayn and obliviously normal human Niall. When Niall is the most normal person in your life, you know you have problems.

~*~*~

Niall tapped him on the forehead. “He’s not lost, dipshit. It’s just an excuse.”

Harry was well and truly baffled. “Excuse? I – what?”

“He doesn’t ask anyone else to show him the way.”

Harry blinked. “Just me?”

“Just you.”

“But – why?”

Niall gave him a look. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He poked Harry in the chest. “He likes you.”

“No way!” Harry said. Then, “Really?”

Coming Home Through the Dark to You by LadyLondonderry

Harry Styles works at the Fox in the Snow, the most hipster coffee joint around. He's got too many roommates and a best friend he met his first day of university who he might very well be head-over-heels for.

#larry #to read #one direction #1d #larry to read #mine

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