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theemporium · 8 months

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It was your own fault for not following the number one cardinal roommate rule and entering his room before knocking.

But in your defence, you had just assumed the worst case scenario would have been that Eddie would be exhausted from his late gig and passed out on his bed, over the sheets and still dressed in the clothes he left in. You didn’t think you would catch him in that act. And you didn’t think you would be the subject of his thoughts.

You met Eddie Munson when you showed up after seeing an advert in the local coffee shop pinboard about someone looking for a roommate for a fairly decent price. You had just moved to New York, a youth with an aspiring dream and a shit load of student debt that you didn’t want to think about. You were scrambling around to find a place to stay and it felt like fate when you saw the flyer on the board.

You didn’t realise how difficult it would be to share a flat with an up and rising musician—especially when he was gorgeous and made your heart feel funny. But you didn’t have time to let your attraction towards your new roommate get in the way of the plan you were following since you moved to the city.

And despite the butterflies in your stomach, you and Eddie ended up growing to be very good friends. He was funny and easy to talk to. He made you smile and he gave good advice, and when you needed it, he was always there to just hold you and watch a movie when you didn’t really feel like talking. He played you his music and you gave what little advice you could, and soon enough you valued your friendship far more than you valued your growing feelings for the boy.

You loved having Eddie as a friend. You loved sharing moments with him as a friend. You loved celebrating each other’s achievements.

And that was exactly why you barrelled into his room when you arrived home after a late night shift at the diner, seeing his shoes by the door and already knowing he was home. That was why you were buzzing with excitement, the letter in your purse feeling heavy as you pushed his door open, mouth open as you got ready to tell him the good news when—

“Fuck!”

You stood there, jaw slack and heart racing, as Eddie scrambled to grab his duvet and pull it over his lap. But it didn’t change anything. It didn’t change what you saw. It didn’t change the fact you couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking big his dick was.

“What happened to knocking?!”

“I—” You blinked, finally breaking out of your daze as your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I just thought you would be sleeping or something and—”

“Is everything okay?” He asked in a softer voice, his eyes holding the concern he felt.

“No, yeah, everything’s fine! I’ll just, uh, leave you to…” You trailed off as you turned around with the full intention of walking out the room and hoping a sinkhole would swallow you whole. However, your morbid curiosity got the best of you and you were turning back on your heel, facing your roommate with your brows furrowed together. “Was that a fleshlight?”

“I—” Eddie choked on his own spit, his cheeks tinted a pretty pink colour as he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. It gets a bit…boring to use my hand all the time.”

“Right,” you nodded, though your feet still didn’t seem to move. “I just…I thought they were only ever used in pornos.”

Eddie’s lips twitched upwards. “Maybe I’m a secret pornstar.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” you murmured with a snort.

“Would you watch my content?”

You froze, your heart feeling as though it stopped beating in your chest. “What?”

Eddie looked more nonchalant this time as he sat up in his bed, leaning back against the headboard like the whole interaction was normal and casual. “Would you watch my videos, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you answered weakly as your mouth ran dry at the idea.

Eddie watched you closely before he pulled the duvet off his lap, completely exposing himself now. You gasped but you didn’t look away, and it only made his smirk widen. You felt like you were lost in a trance as you watched his hands wrap around the toy, thick and heavy as he slowly worked it up and down his cock.

“It helps better to imagine,” Eddie spoke up, his breathing a little shaky as the debauched noise of him fucking the fleshlight echoed through his bedroom. “My hand ruins it. It breaks the fantasy.”

“Which fantasy?” You whispered, almost inaudible as your eyes remained locked on his cock.

“The one where I fuck you,” he stated, so blunt and casual that you almost choked on air as your gaze snapped up to his face. “The one where I fuck you all over this stupid apartment. On the couch. On the counter. In the shower. Where I sneak into your room when I hear those pathetic little moans you let out when you’re begging to come so I can show you how it’s really done.”

“Eddie,” you whispered, a heat in your stomach making your whole body feel like it was burning up.

“I hear you moaning my name,” Eddie gritted out between moans as his head fell back against the headboard. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you say my name. Wanna hear the way you say it when I slide into you.”

A whimpering noise left your lips from the back of your throat as you squirmed in your spot.

“Shit, baby,” Eddie moaned as his hips bucked into the toy, his movements a little more frazzled as he reached his orgasm. “Wish I was coming inside you. Fill you up all nice and good before I show you off. My pretty, pretty girl.”

“I want that too,” you whispered, your chest feeling as though someone was seconds away from caving it in.

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned, something so primal and animalistic but it made you clench your thighs together. “Then be a doll and get those fuckin’ clothes off, darling. Gonna show you just how fast I can make you come over those lil’ fingers of yours.”

#cece's smutober #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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fic rec friday 13

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

I Need A Hero by @theroyalsavage

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted.

OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU. I AM LOSING MY MIND AND HAVE READ IT SO MANY DOZENS OF TIMES. genuinely one of my top faces like its so fucking GOOD!!! the romcom romance of it all!! makes me lose it!!! the angst of loving someone who is constantly putting himself on the front lines!! the fear of not knowing if he's coming home!! being his healer, holding his life in your hands because he doesn't trust it with anyone else!!!! what if i rioted!!! what if i chewed clean through my ceiling!!!!! what if i swallowed my phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what if i clawed my way out of the pit of despair!!!! i am!! gonna!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

2. As If His Hands Were Enough (to Hold an Avalanche Off) by @theroyalsavage

Nico di Angelo has been through enough to know life doesn't always work out the way you plan. But fate is a funny thing, and, in Nico's junior year of college, it hands him salvation in the form of freckled cheeks and a smile like the sun.

OH dude this author is actually everything to me. prepare for an onslaught of their stuff bc i am OBSESSED, but this one especially....oh it's special man. this had me LOSING MY MIND. seph’s acceptance made its way into my devotion scrapbook. never be ashamed of loving anybody….what a fucking thesis. i also ADORED how a) story didn’t end with them getting together, went thru them learning each other too and b) nico didn’t get fixed by dating will. he got fixed by loving himself, something he learned to do by loving will. crying.

3. Of Gods and Men by @theroyalsavage

There is something profoundly strange about the forest behind Will Solace’s new house. The trees, it seems, breathe magic. The truth is this: there are things that the forest hides that humans cannot understand. Nico di Angelo is one of them.

I LOVE PARTICULAR AUS!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU ROYAL SAVAGE!!!!! dude god nico and mortal will is always gonna knock me flat bc its so canon, you know? will is going to be a consort of a god one day. and to read it in fic has me HOWLING but this one in particular....OH the ending is gonna knock yall flat fr!!! if you like percy refusing immortality for annabeth youre gonna LOVE this!!

4. Kitchen Nightmares by @theroyalsavage

Nico is the owner and head chef of an upscale restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. There's nothing easy about running a business, especially when you have to juggle an overprotective father, a college-age sister, and a staff about as under control as a stampede. The last thing Nico needs is a rival in the form of the ugliest food truck on the face of the planet. And yet, that's exactly what he gets. Of food fights, fledgling friendships, and Nico di Angelo's stupid little soft spot for Will Solace.

i know ive literally said it like five times now but NO ONE does an au like theroyalsavage idc. dude romeo & juliet but food truck and fancy restaurant?? hello!!!! omg!! i literally sat my ass down and devoured this i could not stop myself. and then i hit the end and started it right back up again. the love without having the space to establish anything….inherent homoeroticism of rivalry…..my heart!!

5. don't wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours by @theroyalsavage

Will Solace, café manager extraordinaire, just wants to coast through their monthly open mic night in peace. He definitely is not banking on meeting a handsome stranger with the voice of the gods and the death glare of a high-ranking member of the KGB. And yet, that's exactly what he gets.

telling someone you’re not even dating you’re in love with them after like five months is insane behaviour will solace i get you 😭😭 he is so real in every scenario all the time like he is genuinely perfect for nico who is equally as insane and deserves someone who is fully obsessed with him. god.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

#yes another week of all one author what of it im obsessed with her work #wont even be the only week tbh there will be more #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

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kashisun · 10 months

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POV - You're a ballet student in San Myshuno (New York)

Fit #1 - Dress / Socks* / Tights / Heels

Fit #2 - Dress / Stockings / Socks* / Tights / Ballerina Flats

Fit #3 - Top / Tutu / Tights / Ballerina Flats

Fit #4 - Dress / Tights / Socks* / Ballerina Flats

*early access

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 lookbook #cc finds #ts4 virtual closet #simblr #ts4cc finds #ts4 edit #s4 edit

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helaelaemond · 7 months

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TIPS FOR WRITING IN AN ENGLISH UNIVERSITY SETTING from someone who’s been through it!

This post is written with fanfic in mind, specifically about Michael Gavey as a Maths student at the University of Oxford.

University structure

At Oxford, you are there typically for three years. You’re not usually referred to as “first year”, “second year” or “third year/final year” as nouns, and are more likely to describe yourself as being “in my first year” etc. The only exception is your first few weeks at uni when you’re known as a fresher. Your first week in your first year is known as “freshers week”, and its lots of social activities around the uni and beyond.

OXFORD IS NOT A CAMPUS UNI. University housing and buildings are scattered around the city of Oxford, and so using terms like “on campus” are not applicable.

Term starts in early October, and most exams are wrapped up by June.

Housing

Oxford is one of four English universities that use the college system (the others being Cambridge - also called ‘The Other Place’ - Durham, and York) and for the sake of simplicity, you can think of this as a replacement term for ‘dorm’ (a term not typically used). You can find a list of all the colleges on the university’s website.

Within the college building, there are usually single rooms with en-suites, but some rooms have to share a communal bathroom.

University students do NOT have roommates - no one shares a bedroom. There are also some room types in a flat-like set up, with a cluster of a few rooms (2-8 typically) and a shared kitchen. This is less common at Oxford.

Students sometimes stay in university-provided accommodation for the duration of their studies, whilst some choose to live in private accommodation from their second year onwards. If they do this, they are still associated with their college, and by default their college does not change. Private accommodation usually means a regular house shared with a few other people - this is standard across all universities in the UK, not just Oxford.

Classes

Generally speaking, subjects that don’t require lab work have a pretty simple weekly structure of one lecture and one seminar per module. Lectures are observed silently, and seminars are for discussions. Even the boldest or more socially unaware individuals do not interrupt lectures (in my four years, I never ever experienced anyone interrupting or asking a question, and so if you’re going to write Michael doing that, be aware it is a huge taboo unless the lecturer has asked for participation). Students usually take 2-3 different modules per semester, and during the academic year, there are two semesters across three terms.

Reading week is a week of usually in late October/early November where there are no classes for a week and it is a time for self-study.

Most modules have at least one assignment (what Americans would call a term paper) due before the Christmas break in December, and then at least one exam after the break ends in January. Some modules on some courses have other assignments or contributors to grades (like group presentations) but this isn’t all that common. It is very rare for things like “extra credit” to be earned, if at all.

Unless reading a combined degree (like Politics and Economics), you only take one subject. There is nothing like a “major” and “minor”. When doing a combined degree, you take half your modules on one degree, and half your modules on the other, so it’s an even 50/50. You cannot choose any subject to do a combined degree for, and they are pre-set courses determined by the university. For example, you couldn’t do a combined degree of Maths and Geography just because you wanted to.

You don’t talk about what course you’re studying, you say what course you’re reading (which is why Michael says he’s “reading Maths” not studying it).

University culture

Nightclubbing isn’t much of a thing in Oxford. If you want a uni with great nightlife you go to Birmingham, Nottingham, Sheffield, Newcastle, London - not Oxford or Cambridge. Instead, students are much more likely to spend time in one of the dozens of pubs in Oxford. College parties (I.e university accommodation parties) don’t tend to be much of a thing either unless they’re organised by the social events committees in those colleges.

Elitism is an enormous problem at Oxford. For example, in 2015, 45% of all freshers were from private schools, while only less than 7% of children in the UK are privately educated. Classism is an issue that is so unbelievably rampant in places like Oxford that I can’t even begin to explain. But like many forms of prejudice in the UK, it’s rarely overt. It comes in the forms of exclusion from social activities (think a working class student not being able to go on a ski trip with course mates), social rules only familiar to the rich being the order of the day (having the right type of suit for a formal dinner).

Oxford is a place where lifelong connections are made that spill into entertainment, business, and (most worryingly) politics, but best believe that if you’re not from the right background, those connections are not yours to make. In fact, the likelihood of you even know they’re going on in the shadows is high.

Obviously, classism and elitism are themes of Saltburn, but please don’t take them too seriously, as it’s crucial to remember that the writer/director grew up in these very private inner circles of elites. As such, her spin is wildly… wild. She’s an incredibly unreliable source for basing any kind of opinion about these issues on.

That’s all I can think of right now! I highly encourage other people who have been through English universities to add on with advice you think you would helpful to writers 😁🫶

And if you’ve got any specific questions, let me know and I’ll help if I can!

#Michael Gavey x reader #Michael Gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #Michael Gavey x oc

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sunflowervoltwentyeight · 8 months

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Hello! This is a fic rec of my all-time favorite fics. These fics have really stuck with me over the years, and I've read many of them multiple times. This is an ongoing fic rec, that I will continue to update. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen / @bananaheathen (630k)

In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of.

Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance.

Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

Hiding Place by orphan_account (365k)

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.

You Can Hear It In The Silence by imogenelee / @imogenleefic (234k)

When Harry Styles was accepted into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat, leaving him with three options: 1) Move back into student halls. 2) Become homeless. 3) Move in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other mates. He went with the third option. But it was a close race. Shame one of his roommates reminded him why he only has one friend. If there is one thing Louis Tomlinson can't stand, it's pretentious tossers, having grown up around enough of them. If there is one thing he can't live without, it would be his friends. So he was proper thrilled to move in with his best mates and a couple of other lads. That was until he discovered one of them was the archetype for a pretentious tosser.

In the interest of seeing out the twelve-month lease without killing each other, they both try (debatable) to get along despite believing they are opposite in almost every conceivable way, each having the communication skills of a cucumber, and secrets that have no business be kept secret.

One More Time Again by orphan_account (232k)

Harry looks down to where Louis is cradling his hand between his own. Louis' hands are slender, the bones delicate, the nails bitten short. The 2-8 on the backs of his fingers is gone, but the faded scar from a skateboarding mishap in Year 7 is still there.

Harry's hand is awkward, knobby-boned and naked, no rings, no tattoos. It's too big for his wrist and his wrist too big for his arm. Yet it still somehow fits in Louis' in the painfully perfect way it always did.

He blinks back the sting in his eyes.

On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right.

A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).

Stranger Stars by shaylea (212k)

Five years ago, Africa offered a grieving Louis Tomlinson an escape from an England he couldn't tolerate. Now it's become home as he leads overland tours across the continent with his best friend and driver Zayn Malik. What's meant to be just another ordinary six-week trip from Cape Town to Nairobi turns into anything but, when future lawyer/current photographer and songwriter Harry Styles and his friends join Louis' latest set of passengers.

Given A Chance by fabby / @fabby1d (173k)

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 Wonderlands by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (150k)

"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.

As You Are by Zarah5 (139k)

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.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry / @isthatyoularry (136k)

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Empty Skies by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro (134k)

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis' life upside down.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, Gloria_Andrews / @gloriaandrews (134k)

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.

Wild Love bypurpledaisy / @harrydaisy (130k)

“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.

After All These Years byLifeInAColorWheel (127k)

It’s been seven years since One Direction went on hiatus and it’s been eight years since Louis and Harry broke up. They’ve been strangers to one another since then.

But, over the course of a weeklong boys’ trip, history between Harry and Louis resurfaces.

Or,

The one when Louis and Harry don’t talk, connect again years later, and reflect on why their love collapsed.

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, Gloria_Andrews / @gloriaandrews (123k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

I'll Fly Away by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (122k)

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

Bitter Tangerine by purpledaisy / @daisyharry (119k)

Maybe it’s Niall, he reasons to calm his storming heart. Maybe he’s not actually gone for the holidays yet, maybe Harry got the dates confused. Slowly, he holds his breath and pushes the kitchen door open. The first thing he sees make him jump, a wooden spoon held out like a sword. Once his brain processes the sight in front of him, it’s less the sword that gets him than who is attached to the wooden spoon.

“Harry,” the swordsmen speaks before Harry can, his voice low and steady though confusion laces each word.

Harry’s breath catches. Every string around his heart, all the protection he spent nine months building, rips out and tears open all at once as he says, “Hi Louis.”

AU: Nine months after they break up, a twist of fate brings Harry and Louis back together at Christmas.

Never Be by cherrystreet / @cherrystreet (117k)

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.

Burn to Ash by bethaboo (116k)

Harry is sitting there, so fucking casual, and Louis realizes in a split second he was not ready. When Harry walked out in Detroit and never looked back, he was a boy verging on a man, still only twenty years old, but there's a man in his place now. Hard and resolute, yes, but still, for the first time in a long time, Louis can kind of see the old Harry in him. The soft, directness of his gaze, the hesitant smile he gives to Lou, the way he wrings his ridiculously large hands in his lap.

He's a little bit the eager sixteen year old puppy dog again, his innocence and sweetness resurrected miraculously, and Louis freezes in place. He was prepared to face the asshole Harry. He was prepared to meet a whole new Harry.

Louis is not prepared to meet one of the old incarnations of Harry, and it absolutely tears him up.

Or the fic where Harry spirals out of control, the band breaks up, and then he shows back up, five years later.

Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo / @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn’t intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

Tired Tired Sea by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (113k)

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.

Babydoll Blues by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain (111k)

Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by certainsadness (103k)

“There’s something so great about watching you interact with art,” Harry said quietly. “Like, when you were giving the tour, you were just so you, and so happy and excited and funny and engrossing. But then when you’re looking at the art, when it’s, like, just for you, you get so quiet and observant.” He pressed a kiss to Louis’s shoulder. “But you still seem so you, and so happy. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you as happy as you’ve been tonight.” He kissed his shoulder again. “As you are right now.” A shiver went up Louis’s back. “I’m happy when I’m with you,” he said.

Or, Louis loved art and Harry was a masterpiece.

Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships (92K)

The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.

or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

Behavioural Ecology by turtlekz / @turtlekz (81k)

Louis Tomlinson is a primatologist working with the Jane Goodall Institute for primate conservation; and Harry Styles is the photojournalist sent from National Geographic to write a piece promoting awareness about the endangered species. They meet, and love is never, ever simple, as we know.

Featuring Eli the chimpanzee, bickering humans, storytelling, and five men who come to gain an understanding of what it means to be human; all stationed in the Republic of the Congo.

Do Not Go Gentle by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (70k)

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (68k)

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

A Yuzu Grows in Brooklyn by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (66k)

Harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.

The Dark and the Dentist by sunshiner / @theprizeofcoolness (66k)

“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.

Time Passed by coffinofachimera (66k)

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

Outwit, Outplay, Outlast by dancesongsoul, lookatyourchoices (60k)

“Tommo and Harry are gonna do it. I don’t know when, but they’re gonna do it. They’ve got the mattress, the pillows, everything’s in place, and they’re gonna do it. I really wish those two the best of luck.” –Taylor Swift, "Chapera"

Or a Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

No One Does It Better by nodibs (49k)

Harry’s an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn’t the first time they’ve met.

Sail Away With Me by star_henderson / @star-henderson (47k)

“It’s inhumane putting four blokes in one cabin.” Louis stripped off and climbed up into his top bunk. “And why did we get the smelliest twat on the whole ship and bore of the century?”

Harry shrugged. “We clearly pissed someone off along the way.”

Louis snorted softly. “Who do I have to bend over for to get us an upgrade?”

Harry barked out a laugh. “If only it were that simple.” He rolled his eyes wistfully at Louis.

“The only way I’m going to get a two berth is to throw Payno overboard and be next in line for the deputy cruise director's job.” Louis leaned up on one elbow to look over at Harry. “Would you help me weigh his body down so I don’t go to jail?”

“Only If I can share your cabin.” Harry shuffled about, tucking the duvet between his legs, sweeping his hair up into a bun and securing it in a band. “I’m not being an accessory to murder and then still having to share with them two, no fucking way.”

Louis and Harry are part of the entertainment team on board a luxury cruise liner. They hate sharing their four berth cabin with two other guys and would do anything to get a cabin of their own. One drunken night the solution was simple. They'd just get married...

Be My Little Good Luck Charm by 100percentsassy (34k)

In which Harry is a promising amateur golfer making his debut at the PGA Championship, and Louis is a Sky Sports anchor who would really rather be commentating on footie.

The other boys are around too: caddy!Niall provides victory pints, Liam is Louis's Very Serious co-anchor, and poor Zayn just gets his face drawn on.

Have You Coming Back Again by whoknows (31k)

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.

Loved By Your Mother by superglass / @gaymoustache (31k)

Harry stretches out like Venus with her lover, growing sleepy in the late afternoon light with a baby growing inside her. Perhaps not literally, not physically. Not exactly.

Harry struggles to come to terms with wanting to have children, and what that means for their relationship. Canon compliant, set a few years into the future

#read #favorite fics #ficrec #larry fic rec #hlcreators #1dficvillage

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ereardon · 3 months

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In The Skies || Ch. 1 [Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]

Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies?

Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader

Chapter summary: You spend one eventful night with Major "Bucky" Egan after a night out in London. Will you ever see him again?

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies

WC: 2.6K

Masterlist here

“Want a drink?”

“Sure!” Your voice got lost in the crowd. The bar, somewhere in Camden, was packed, a mixture of men in uniform and women with drawn-on hosiery packed like sardines in the tiny room. Music swelled over the chaos of voices, and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears from the sheer volume of everything.

It was exhilarating.

It was the week before exams, and you and two girlfriends had decided to throw caution to the wind, taking the train from Oxford and staying in the city in a flat that Mary’s sister rented, the four of you squished in two tiny beds with one mirror and a bathroom in the hallway.

But the allure of London was such a vibrant change from Oxford. Even during the war, there was something romantic about the city. Maybe, in the fact of everything, it was the potential. To be who you wanted to be. To live a life worth living.

Or, perhaps the real reason your friends had wanted to go to London for the weekend, was the men.

So many military men.

You’d had your share of flings with Brits. There were the other students at Oxford. The townies nearby. You even danced on the edge of a romantic relationship with a professor. But in the end, they all went belly up.

Mary pressed a drink into your hand and you took a sip, eyes darting around the room. You had come to London only a handful of times in the two-and–a-half years you had been at Oxford. It was overwhelming, after the quietness of rural England. The hustle, the sheer volume of bodies, the loud voices and incoherent accents. Almost three years in England and you still could barely understand a British accent.

Mary and Eileen had an easier time adjusting. Eileen was also an American, from California. She looked like a film star, and you envied her sometimes. Mary was more quiet, originally from Dover, with diminutive features.

Barely an hour into arriving, they had both been swept into conversations with handsome men. You waved them off with a smile. That was the purpose of going to the bar, you reminded yourself. Experience life outside of the Ivy-covered halls of Oxford. Throw caution to the wind, just once. In the midst of all the tragedy and the chaos and the death, you were twenty one. You were just starting to live.

“Need a refill?” The voice was unmistakably American. Midwest American if you had to guess. You looked up from where you had been lingering against one dark wall in the corner of the club.

That voice. It was deep and throaty, and belonged to a tall man leaning against the wall to your right, his head cocked to one side, deep blue eyes staring straight at you.

You felt your stomach flip. There was something unmistakeable about his gaze. It cemented you in place, grounding you. He smiled, small lips turning up beneath a groomed mustache.

“I’m fine,” you replied, hating yourself instantly, the empty glass in your hand saying otherwise. He was going to walk away, try his luck with the next girl, and you cursed yourself.

Instead, he stayed rooted in place, nodding. “That’s alright. I recognize an American anywhere.”

“New York,” you replied.

“Wisconsin.” You told him your name. He reached out one solid, large hand. “I’m Bucky.”

“Bucky? You must have messed up big time to get that as your nickname.”

He smirked, his hand warm where it was still enveloping yours. You didn’t want to pull away. There was something magnetic about him. “You’re a long way from home.”

“I’m a third year at Oxford,” you said. He had to lean in closer to hear you above the noise of the club and you could smell the tobacco on his jacket, the musk of whiskey and oranges. “Just here for the weekend.”

“Seeing a boyfriend?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Bucky smiled. “Good.” Despite the noise of the club and the competing senses — boisterous laughter, the scent of sweat and perfumes mixed together, the rush of bodies all around — you found yourself entirely captivated by Bucky. He straightened up against the wall where the two of you were leaning. “Want to get some air?” he asked. “Take a walk?”

“Yes.” He held out a hand and you took it without thinking, not bothering to find Eileen or Mary in the crowd and tell them you’ve left. You simply let Bucky sweep you out into the cool London night.

The air outside was biting against the thin silk of your dress and you shivered almost immediately. He shrugged off his jacket, a fur-trimmed bomber coat and wrapped it around your shoulders without you asking.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “What’s your real name?” you asked quietly. “Unless your mother had an awful sense of humor and named you Bucky from birth.”

He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty street. “John Egan, ma’am.”

“Ma’am,” you repeated, the word slippery on your tongue. “Makes me feel old.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty.”

“Twenty one,” you replied. “Last week.”

Up ahead, yellow street lamps tossed delicate rings of light into the road. It was a T junction. You could go left or right. He stopped underneath the lamp at the intersection and you turned to face him. “Y/N,” he said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. What do you say we make this a night we won’t forget?”

“Do you say that to all the girls?” you whispered. “Or just the ones you pick up in clubs.”

Bucky smirked. “I say it because it’s true.” He paused, his face falling. “And because this time, we might not come back.” There was something dark and defeated in the way he said it.

Again, without thinking, you reached up, trailing one hand over his cheek. He pressed into your palm without thinking, closing his eyes for a second before popping them open. “Can’t let a soldier go off to war without a proper sendoff,” you replied quietly. “Wouldn’t be very patriotic of me, now would it?”

He reached out, pressing both hands to either side of your face, delicately stroking your cheek with his rough, large thumb. “No, it wouldn’t. And you’re a good little American, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“For my troops?” you whispered. “Anything.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. You felt goosebumps prickle at your skin. He tasted warm, like tobacco and whiskey, and his mouth opened gracefully, accepting your lips across his, his tongue finding yours with soft padding.

Bucky pulled back, sliding both of his large, warm hands across the sides of your face. His slate blue eyes bore into yours for a moment and even though you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in London, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, and empty space all around.

At the hotel, you slipped off your heels near the door, looking around. It was a small room, just a bed in the middle, a chair next to one wall, and a window overlooking the street. Bucky closed the door. You turned to him, eyes wide. “You ever done anything like this, sweetheart?” he murmured.

You shook your head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“So why me?” he asked. “Why tonight?”

“It’s war, Bucky,” you whispered. “People do things because they can. While they can.”

He stepped closer, his scent surrounding you. He was tall, so much taller without your heels on, and you craned your neck up to look at him. He cupped your face gently. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Might be the last pretty face I ever see.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” He pulled away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Silently, you admired the way his thighs stretched the dark green fabric of his uniform, how long his legs were as he tapped one brown leather shoe against the carpet. “You don’t know what it’s like up there. Not knowing if we’re ever coming back.”

“Do you have a wife back home?” you whispered.

He looked up, frowning. “You think I’d be here with you if I had a wife?”

“I don’t know. Some men might.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. I don’t have a wife. Or a girl.”

“Tonight I’ll be your girl,” you whispered, slotting yourself between his legs, Bucky’s fingers automatically reaching out, tracing along the lines of your legs covered in hosiery. His fingertips ran along the back seam of your pantyhose behind your knee as you sucked in a breath, winding your arms around his neck.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, voice thick and deep. His eyes pierced yours.

“Are you going to come back safe?” you whispered.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Then it’s a promise,” you murmured, leaning down, pressing your lips to his, Bucky’s hands circling your waist, tugging your body against him, one of his hands threaded in your hair at the base of your neck where it was pinned under. He tasted of tobacco and drink and you let him slide his hands up beneath your dress, gasping as his fingers gently brushed over your bottom, fingertips grazing the snaps of your garter where it clipped to your thigh highs.

“Can’t tell you the last time I touched real stockings,” he whispered. You didn’t have the heart to tell him they were your last pair, and that you had been saving them. Most days, you drew a line up the back of your leg like all the other women, replicating the seam of stockings but going without in order to support the war.

“And how do they feel?”

Bucky looked up, his enormous hands clasped around the back of your thighs where your bare flesh sat between the edge of your panties and the top of the stockings. “Amazing.”

You tipped your head back in a sigh as he gripped your bottom, squeezing the bare flesh tightly. He unclipped the stockings, rolling them down your left, then your right, leg, slowly. You reached out, undoing his tie, his blue eyes watching yours with rapt attention as your fingertips shook while you undressed him.

His skin was warm as you slid your fingers over his bare chest, admiring the smattering of hair in the center of his sternum, the small scar on his left shoulder blade. You couldn’t help but run your hands over his abs, so clearly defined but still soft, the way the muscles melted into each other like rounded mountaintops.

You spun around so Bucky could undo the buttons on the back of your dress. There was an intimacy as he worked his way down your back until the dress peeled off. You placed your hands over your chest, turning around shyly.

“Don’t cover up, baby,” he whispered, voice low and gravely. “Let me see you.”

Slowly, you removed your hands, standing in front of him in only your sheer ivory slip dress. Buck reached up, tracing one hand over your breast, your nipple straining against the fabric, the air in the room full of expectation. You gasped as he slid the lacy strap off of your shoulder, exposing your chest, leaning forward and taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as you threaded your fingers into his curling dark hair. “Oh!”

He pulled you down against him, rolling you over until your back was against the bed, his head still level with your chest as he kissed across your exposed skin. Your fingertips dug against his back, eyes closing as you widened your hips, letting him sit between your thighs.

You had been with men before. Oxford, for all of its poshness and etiquette, had seen a spike in debauchery since the war broke out. So different from back home. You were different here than you were at home.

But being with those other men was nothing like being with Bucky. His mustache tickled over the exposed skin of your neck as he pressed inside of you, his arms wrapping around your whole body, keeping you warm, holding you as close as possible as you moved together, your fingers tangled in his hair, your ankles curled around his hips, your moans drenching the small gap of air between the two of you.

And as he finished, his forehead pressed against yours as he moaned into the night, hips shuddering against your body, you let go.

You laid in the bed, tucked squarely in Bucky’s embrace, your face close to his chest as he lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you. His fingertips danced over your shoulder. “So how do you like England?” he asked.

You pushed up off of him, chuckling. “England? Oh it’s fine. All beans and toast and pints. Still not used to the accents. I have to ask my professors to repeat themselves all the time, they think I’m hard of hearing.”

He smiled. “What are you studying?”

“Biology.”

“Biology?” He took a puff of his cigarette. “To do what?”

“Research. I like plants and gardening and animals.”

He reached out, playing with one ringlet of hair that had fallen loose from your updo. “A New Yorker who likes gardening? Never heard of such a thing.”

“We had plants on our rooftop. I used to go out there every afternoon to sit with my schoolwork, reading by the fire escape. Dream about being anywhere else. Somewhere green.”

“England is green,” Bucky said. “Outside of London of course. From up there, it’s all green.”

“What’s it like?” you asked. “Flying.”

“Scary as shit,” he replied and your eyes widened. He stubbed out the cigarette in a bowl on the nightstand. “No matter how good you are, no matter how many times you’ve made it back, you never know what you’re going to find.”

“You’re scared?”

“Fucking terrified.”

You traced one hand down the side of his face. “What if you didn’t go back to base tomorrow?” you whispered.

“I have to. I have my men to worry about.”

“Tell me about your friends.”

“Well there’s Croz. Smart sonofabitch, but sick every time he gets in the air. There’s Curt and Rosie.” He smiled. “And then there’s Buck.”

“Buck?” You frowned. “I thought you were Buck.”

“I’m Bucky, he’s Buck,” he clarified. “It’s a long story.”

“Two peas in a pod, then?”

“He asked me to be his best man,” Bucky said and you saw the way his face turned up in a soft smile. His eyes were far away, like he was dreaming.

“Bet you look good at a wedding,” you whispered.

His eyes returned to yours. He grabbed your hand, pulling it in, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “Be my date?”

You laughed. “To a wedding for two people I’ve never met?”

“They’ll love it. Trust me, it’ll be great.”

“Alright, you promise me to come back home safe, and I promise to be your date to this mysterious Buck’s wedding. Unknown date or location.”

He grinned. “Now don’t go breaking that promise, sweetheart. You’d just about break my heart.” He leaned in for a kiss and you tumbled back onto the bed, a heap of arms and legs and sighs.

In the morning, you crept out of bed. Bucky laid on his stomach, arms tucked beneath the pillow, snoring softly as you rolled on your stockings, buttoned your dress behind you. You sat down at the desk in the corner before tucking the note into his jacket pocket and stepping into your heels.

As you opened the door, you took one last look back. He was handsome. So damn handsome.

You hoped with your whole heart that he would return from the skies.

A/N: This is my first time writing for MOTA or doing anything set in a different period so please bare with me as I work on my period writing skills!

Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:

@gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @iangiemae @tgmavericklover @sunny747 @perfectprettypisces @na-ta-sh-aa @ryebecca @kmc1989 @spinning-away @yorkshirekiwi @clancycucumber230

#masters of the air #mota #john bucky egan #masters of the air series #major john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #callum turner

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marthastewieeee · 3 months

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modern alicent hightower au.

head canons.

born september 1st, 1993 (virgo)

high femme lesbian

daughter of otto hightower, head adviser of balerion co.

from oxfordshire but moved to london at age twelve to attend an all catholic girls boarding school.

that is where she first met rhaenyra targaryen, heir to balerion co.

favourite subject: english literature and history

(she get's REALLY attached to her female English teacher)

(and still had no idea she was a lesbian...)

prefect in sixth form while rhaenyra eventually becomes head girl

absolutely adores vintage stores and drags rhaenyra to notting hill every leave weekend they possibly can

(rhae always complains but she secretly adores it)

alicent becomes vegan for a few years

(rhae does NOT like that)

otto does not want alicent to go to university truly but (through rhaenyra) viserys convinces him to allow her to apply.

alicent is allowed to apply to edinburgh and UCL.

(upon hearing that, rhae applied only to edinburgh and UCL).

both decided on edinburgh in the end.

alicent studies english literature with a minor in business.

(no one can really remember what rhae studies, it's an ongoing joke between them)

viserys pays the rent on their flat in the city centre and the two truly become roommates.

(now THAT is a real joke between the rest of their friends)

after a messy, weird, love triangle where they realised they were way more interested in each other than the exchange student (Criston Cole), they finally figured out what all their friends had been joking about.

after graduation, rhaenyra takes over balerion co. while convincing (demanding) otto to allow alicent to get her PHD in classic literature at UCL.

the two move in together in a penthouse in Knightsbridge.

Otto discovers their relationship too late and vehemently disapproves, refusing to pay for the rest of Alicent's education.

rhae murders him (no she doesn't)

rhae threatens to fire him unless he pays for her PHD course.

she fires him two years later, the night alicent receives her PHD.

alicent ends up writing bestselling fantasy novels (think shadow and bone/six of crows) while also being on call as an advisor for balerion co.

rhae proposes the day the book series becomes a New York Times bestseller (the aim alicent was always reaching for).

(Ali said yes).

they are married when they are thirty.

the wedding takes place in lake como.

laena velaryon is rhaenyra's maid of honour and emmeline tully (Alicent's cousin) is Alicent's maid of honour.

Otto refuses to attend.

Gwayne walks alicent down the aisle.

(to the instrumental of this love by Taylor Swift)

alicent goes on to win the Pulitzer Prize for her book on how catholic guilt manifests in the 21st century.

continues to write while rhae and alicent raise their children.

three carried by alicent (aegon, helaena, aemond).

three carried by rhaenyra (jacaerys, lucerys, joffrey).

alicent never allows them to meet otto.

but they have a grandparental figures in corlys and rhaenys velaryon (rhaenyra's uncle and aunt).

and they all live happily ever after <3

wardrobe.

wedding.

#alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house hightower #house targaryen #rhaenicent #asoiaf #hotd #game of thrones #modern au #wlw

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joelswritingmistress · 6 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 2

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Eventually Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

In jest, I quietly blamed Dr. Miller for wanting to fall asleep in the second class I was taking at the University the following evening. Dr. Stevenson did not have the immediate, gripping hold on me the way Dr. Miller did. Not only was I exhausted by the time the five o'clock class rolled around, but I was constantly comparing this stodgy, mundane individual to all of the lively traits his coworker possessed. It was unfair really.

I had made it, however. I managed to get through to seven o'clock without rudely letting my head fall flat on the desk in the stuffy, thermogenic confinement in the University's basement.

“Get me out of here,” I whispered to myself as I crossed into the hallway. My eyes sought out the stairwell at the far end of the corridor, though when the elevator doors swung open as I passed by, I couldn't resist the free ride.

A small group of students piled out, each on their own individual device and not seeming to care if they were in each other’s company or not. I felt for my own phone in my jacket as I entered and turned to hit the “1” button that glowed a pale yellow.

“Hold on..” A hand snuck its way in through the large, steel doors that threatened to close, and I stepped farther to the side to allow the stranger to enter. Only it wasn't a stranger - not really.

“Oh..” The one syllable left my mouth when I recognized it was Dr. Miller who was now standing beside me as the doors closed. The word was entirely misplaced and I knew I wouldn't have said that if any other human being had accompanied me on the elevator right then. Except maybe John Stamos.

“(Y/N), right?” His voice was made for phone sex.

The fact that I had that thought even remotely in the most hidden depths of my brain made me blush. I even contemplated what was wrong with me.

“Right.” I gave a small, closed-mouth smile and attempted to mind my own business.

“Who's class did you just come from?”

“Umm..” I drew a blank. His presence, and my instant attraction to him, took me completely off-guard. “Uhhh..” When my eyes lifted to hit his, I could tell there was amusement that lingered behind the surface. “Dr. Stevenson.”

“Mmm..” It was an obvious mutter of disapproval, though he didn't dare elaborate as he subtly rolled his eyes along with the brief, fleeting response.

“My thoughts exactly.” I gave a laugh and looked up at him again, shoving my hands into the pockets of my black, L.L. Bean winter coat. I hoped by agreeing to his subtle denunciation I didn't come across as the prissy, know-it-all type that undermined authority figures.

When the little bell chimed, indicating we had reached the first level, I wanted to make some excuse to stay there. There was nothing logical. Once the doors opened I would have to get out. Still, I wanted so badly to carry on a conversation with Dr. Miller. At the same time there wasn't one worthwhile conversation starter I could think of.

I opened my mouth to speak again but then quickly went with the generic, “I'll see you tomorrow in class.”

Dr. Miller gave a nod and I crept out of the elevator with a deliberate reluctance that I couldn't prevent. A look over my shoulder showed the elevator doors closing again and Dr. Miller’s figure was slowly stripped from my view like an actor on a stage at the final curtain.

I could breathe again. For a second. It suddenly dawned on me that I had never revealed to him my name.

(Y/N), right? I relived the simple, half-a-second question he had asked over and over again in my mind until it transformed from a quintessential expression to a resounding shout.

He has a class list, I reminded myself. With at least forty-something students, I added.

There was no way he could have known who I was without a little investigation. The thought flattered me. Surely, others might've been a bit uneasy over the revelation but not me. Not right then.

There was an unwilling pull at the corner of my mouth that I tried to fight off, though soon a wider grin made home on my face. I still stood there staring at the elevator for a moment and realized the down arrow was glowing.

Down. I stood there for a moment. Dr. Archibald had gone back down where he had just come from. Had he simply taken the elevator ride to…

I couldn't even finish the thought with any sort of realistic element to it.

Cocky, aren't we? I knew there wasn't a chance he had taken the elevator up one level and back down simply because I was on it. He most likely forgot something and went back down.

Big metal butterflies had suddenly made home in my stomach. I was so modest that I yielded any possibility that this could be true. Through my own eyes I was so incredibly customary that someone couldn't possibly want to go out their way to find out more about me.

I wouldn't mind him stalking me. The fact that this was my first naturally-occurring thought had to say something. The palpitations knocked at my chest cavity again and I swallowed hard as the down arrow suddenly stopped glowing.

Of course this was the thing, in all of my exhausted glory, that kept me awake again that night.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @grogusmum @amyispxnk

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soft--dragon · 5 months

Text

Snow Day

Just a small drabble for you guys to snack on before I post the bigger one :D

Word Count: 1,177

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Casey was practically vibrating with excitement, booted feet doing mini stomps - a stim he’d picked up from Donnie at a young age - as he looked out over the white powered landscape of New York City Park. Mikey, who was stood right beside him snickered at his child-like behavior, giving a friendly grin.

“You’ve really never seen snow before, huh Junior?”

Casey shook his head rapidly, eyes so wide as if he was trying to memorise every single detail of the park. “There was never white snow in the future, it was like ash, but this… Michelangelo, this is amazing!”

Mikey’s brow dipped slightly at the mention of the harsh, desolate future Casey had come from, but he gave the boy a gentle nudge to dispel the memory. “Mikey, Casey, call me Mikey,” he reminded lightly.

Whether Casey registered the soft words was up for debate, the boy’s spellbound expression never wavering when Leo seemed to drop out of nowhere to sling an arm around Casey’s shoulders.

“Not a bad view, aye Casey?” he grinned.

“It’s incredible,” the young warrior murmured, his smile lifting his eyes.

“Well what are you waiting for? Come on!” Leo grabbed his students hand and ran, dragging along Casey who almost fell flat on his face from the sudden force.

“Wait up Leo!” Mikey yelled after his brother, taking off right behind the pair, with the rest of the family in tow.

Leo didn’t even hesitate before he dove into the snow with a gleeful whoop, dragging Casey into the soft powder and laughing when the boy just about screamed.

“JESUS! It’s cold, Leo!” “Welcome to the ice age, Jones!”

There was an audible scoff from above the two. “Incorrect Leo, the ice age was thousands of years ago when creatures such as mammoths used to roam the earth and- hey!”

A snowball smashed into the back of Donnie’s head from non-other than April who was grinning similar to a Cheshire cat. “Sorry, did I interrupt you?”

“Yes actually, I was trying to educate Leo on his very historically inaccurate claim- ow!” A second snowball had splattered straight into Donnie’s face, the teen being thrown to the ground with the force of it. “APRIL!”

Raph high fived the girl in passing, moving to Leo and Casey who were still lying in the snow. “Don’t you two go catching a cold alright? We don’t want to get the whole fam sick.” “We’ll be fine, Raph, don’t worry,” Leo smirked up at his older brother, “We’re well protected from the cold.” “Yes, but some of us aren’t that used to winter, remember?”

“Oh, I know.” Leo’s hand planted itself in Casey’s mop of unruly hair, messing with the black locks and making the kid yelp and squirm in protest. “I’ll keep an eye on the snow baby.”

Casey baulked from under Leo’s fingers. “The- the snow what?” Raph sighed with a small, fond smile. “If he gets sick you’re taking care of him.” “Don’t I always?”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m right here you guys.” “Hush snow baby,” Leo scooped up some snow and shoved it in Casey’s unsuspecting face, trying and failing to hide his grin at the boy’s wild screech of alarm and offence. “The adults are talking.”

The snow removed, Casey tried leaning away only for Leo’s hand to come back and to pinch his cheek. “Augh! Stop! Your hands are freezing!”

“Oh, are they actually?” Leo’s hands were then diving under Casey’s scarf to press them against his neck, and the scream the boy gave was almost ear splitting.

“NO! Off, off, off! Get away from me!” Casey scrambled across the snow to escape, only for Leo to follow with an evil gleam in his eyes. “Guys help!”

Casey, who had fallen victim to Leo’s schemes more than once, knew the outcome of this dilemma, and scrambled off the ground in an instant. He was running laps of the park, laughing over his shoulder at the turtle who was pursuing him with outstretched hands and taunting loudly.

“Should we stop them before they fall into the lake?” Mikey asked with a laugh.

Raph shrugged, smirking. “Eh, let em tire themselves out, it’ll be easier to get them to sleep later.”

“I concur, I do not want to deal with a hyperactive Leo,” Donnie raised a hand from where he was still lying on the ground from April’s snowball attack.

The green jacketed girl rolled her eyes. “Donnie, get up.”

“Can’t. I’ve been shot.”

A scream echoed through the park, making the group whip around in alarm to where Leo and Casey were tussling on the ground, the blue coded turtle pressing his fingers underneath Casey’s scarf to target his neck. The raven haired teen was screeching at the chill spreading through his skin, bursts of laughter mingling with his yelps as Leo refused to let up.

“LEHEHO! Stohohopihit!”

“What? Can’t hear you Snow Baby, sorry, I’ve got ear muffs on.”

“YOU DON'T!”

“Invisible ear muffs are the modern style Case, I thought you’d know that cause you’re from the future.”

One of Casey’s hands came up to shove at Leo’s face, the other trying to push away the turtle’s fingers assaulting his sensitive skin. “Thahat’s soho duhumb!”

Leo’s mouth dropped open and gasped loudly. “How dare you insult my invisible earmuffs, that is so mean.”

Casey cracked an eye open to peer up at Leo smugly. “Thought you couldn’t hear me with those ear muffs?”

Scoffing an incredulous laugh, Leo furrowed his brow playfully. “Alright, wise guy, you asked for this.” Leo lightened his touch enough so that his fingernails were just grazing along Casey’s neck, causing the boy to try and turn into a turtle himself and scrunch his head down, all the while in fits of panicked giggles.

“DahAHAamnit LehehEHEO!” He cried, grappling with the turtle’s arms to dislodge his freezing fingers. “Nohohoho!”

Using the tassels of Casey’s scarf to dust along his cheek just to be annoying, Leo cooed, “I warned you bud; insult the muffs, get the fluff.”

Pressing his cheek into the snow, Casey batted at his mentor with horribly uncoordinated movements. “Yohou suhuck!”

“Ouch, what a burn. Good thing we’re surrounded by so much ice that I can treat it.”

Casey landed a smack on his shoulder, rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t roll right out of his head. “Dork,” he bit out between peals of laughter.

“Oh I’m a dork now am I? Wow, really laying it on thick with the insults today, kiddo,” Leo snorted. The attempts of ‘insulting’ Leo really weren’t really that cutting at all, he was gonna have to teach this kid some curse words to help him along. Raph may kill him for it, but he was the sensei of Jones Junior, not his big brother. Casey did end up catching a cold from the snow, though Leo held up his promise and was vigilant during the boy’s recovery. This was his kid after all, he was always going to look out for his Snow Baby.

#my fanfic #rottmnt tickle #rottmnt #tmnt tickle #lee!casey #ler!leo #casey jones #rise donnie #rise leo #rise raph #rise april #april o'neil

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zebkiehousing · 2 years

Text

How to get Cheap Student Apartment USA?

Students always face a lot of financial problems. Although they constantly spend on textbooks, hand outs, writing supplies, and various huge fees, they still do not include accommodation fees.

The process of obtaining student accommodation in Pretoria is much more difficult. Fortunately, you won't have to go through the troubling experience of finding student housing. We've put together helpful tips to help you scale the process with ease.

Every student wants affordable accommodation, but the number of affordable cheap student apartments in USA is less. Every year, a large number of students enter USA's higher education institutions, and their struggle to obtain good housing increases.

This article will show you how to get cheap student accommodation in New York;

Tips to get cheap student accommodation in New York

You may be wondering how you can get a cheap student apartment as a new student. That's why we've put together the necessary steps you should take to get very good accommodation in New York.

Make sure you apply early!

As soon as you decide to come to the USA for your future studies, immediately apply for accommodation. It is because cheap and comfortable accommodation for students in New York is provided on a first-come, first-served basis. Remember: "go to bed early, get up early."

If you apply in advance, chances are good that you will get a cheap student apartment in New York. You may even have the opportunity to make a choice and choose a very beautiful house or room.

Consider the location of the house.

It is a very important point. When deciding on accommodation, you should think about apartments that are closer to the school.

You won't want to stay away from campus. In Austria, the United States, and the United Kingdom, most students enjoy living on campus. It allows them to keep abreast of all the latest developments on campus.

On the other hand, if you decide to live closer to the campus, it will help you spend less on transportation. Do not forget that you are a student and you have a limited budget.

Set a budget

You can't just start looking for accommodation in New York as a student without planning a budget. Budgeting will help you narrow down your search for a student flat in New York.

Your budget will determine whether you will be looking for an apartment where you will live alone or in a shared apartment. A shared apartment can mean the need to share toilets or a living room.

You should also take into account the cost of furnishing the apartment. It will include the purchase of electronic appliances, mattresses, and kitchen utensils.

Consult with old students or an agency

Getting information from returning students or reliable accommodation agents will help you make a better decision when looking for accommodation in the USA. That's because they probably know where you can find the best student accommodation in the USA at a lower price.

To do this, simply login to the school's website and click on the student life section of the website. You will find the contact information of old students from whom you can ask questions.

These students will be better able to recommend a good place with cheap apartments for rent in the USA. Also, if you are planning to go to Austria, then find student housing in Austria.

Be sure to visit the school's website to posting.

It's one of the best ways to find accommodation as a new student in New York. Most schools have a section on their website where you can find accommodation on campus.

You can contact the college's accommodation office to find out about availability and how to secure an apartment.

#student housing in Austria #student flat in New York #cheap student apartments in USA

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bitchsister · 3 months

Note

do you think bucky will go crazy over how tiny and cute curt's hands were when they wrapped around his huge hard cock? do you think he will bite or kiss them any chance he gets? curt's stubby fingers...tiny pawsss 🥺

Y-yeah…….. 🥲 now that you mention it….

I’m continuing assuming you’re talking about the Lucky Charms modern AU, since he was caught by Stranger Bucky being so TEEEEENY TIIIIIIIINY. I also am switching back to past tense because the present is so frightening.

EmotwinkoliverCurt is 100% the Vibe

Sexy Attorney Bucky

I didn’t know I needed Modern Stoner Curtis and Lawyer Bucky but …

“I can’t get it.” Curt grumbled, twisting the top of the plastic soda bottle he’d wedged between his twisting hand and his chest for leverage. “It hurts. Look. They turned fuckin’ red.” He showed his palms to Bucky, who clicked his tongue.

“Well, you gave it hell.” Bucky eyed the teeth marks in the plastic lid once he grabbed the bottle, Curt having resulted a few times to using his second greatest asset as a tool to procure what now seemed to be liquid gold.

So close, but so far away.

Tsssss

It was utterly fucking annoying how fast Bucky twisted the cap off, taking a swig for himself.

“Hey… Gimme that.”

Bucky caught the hands that were grabbing at his own, eyeing the reddened palms that burned. “You know the saying, hm? Righty tighty—“

“Oh shut up, you fucking idiot.” Curt wiggled his fingers, trying to grab his hands free from Bucky who’d sat at his desk within his home office, stacks of paperwork in front of him, so lovingly interrupted by Curt- who should be working on his literature review - to open a goddamn twist off bottle of soda. “I know which way to twist a fuckin’ lid. Be forreal.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, sat in his desk chair while Curt stood right in front of him, only a few inches taller than he in that moment. “Moody.” Bucky mused, the bottle of soda forgotten once he’d started kissing Curt’s palms that laid flat over his own. “Having a hard time with your paper?”

Curt sighed, his gaze descending to stare at the floor.

“Why don’t we take a break from work, then?” Bucky had already abandoned his papers, the case he’d been defending long forgotten amongst the peachy haze of Curtis Biddick. “Just awhile, yeah? Make your hands feel better.”

Bucky had fallen in love with Curt.

Quickly.

First, it was Lucky Charms and then, Bucky had been convinced he’d been fucking charmed. Perhaps Curt was being true when he said he was related to the infamous Lucky the Leprechaun. He’d been put under a spell, completely taken by a college student who simply couldn’t get his life together, but it had never been for lack of trying.

There was something so endearing about it.

“Make my hands feel better, hm?” Curt stepped forward, slotting himself between Bucky’s spread thighs where he pulled his palms away and slung his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, his head pressed to Curt’s belly and his big hands wrapped around his waist to pull him in where eventually there was no other choice but for him to sit in Bucky’s lap, legs draped over the side of his wheely chair, as he’d call it.

“Don’t you think?” Bucky mused, watching Curt reach down and pull his boyfriend’s cock free from his trousers, stood proudly against the New York sweater he’d borrowed.

The same one Curt’d been wearing the night they met.

Both of Curt’s hands began working over Bucky, his lips licking into his mouth and tasting Coca-cola. “Mr. Egan,” he whispered as Bucky let out a low and guttural moan. “Your client feels he’s been neglected. And — and he says he found cum on his papers..” Curt giggled softly, “Some lawyer.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, sucking a sharp breath between his teeth as he watched Curt’s hands, his little fingers, his tiny reddened palms. He needed two of them just to cover the length of him, one hand thumbing the tip while the other worked the base. “Mmm. Some lawyer.” He muttered back, taking note of the way Curt began to rut his ass against Bucky’s knee, a clear sign he wanted something inside him.

“Have you thought more about a plug?” Bucky whispered, his words chased by a moan into Curt’s neck. “If you had one in, it’d feel good when you did that.” He referenced Curt’s habit of grinding himself against anything when he got excited.

“And you want me to wear it to class?” Curt tried to meet Bucky’s feverish kiss with his own lips, but it was sloppy and wet. Delicious.

“Mm, yeah. ‘Course I do.” Bucky watched his hands again, soaking up every detail — the drops of milky precum that wet his little knuckles, and how small his wrists were. “Want you to text me while you wear it, hm? Tell me what it feels like.”

“What if you’re in court?”

“Don’t matter. Make me fuckin’ hard in front of ‘em.”

I have to stop I will literally write chapters of this I lack self control.

#💌#curtbucky #yoyo writes #lcau

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justfandomwritings · 2 years

Note

I have been devouring your content for the past few days and let me say: your writing is absolutely AMAZING! The way you write Jake is just chefs kiss. Jake and Addie are my new OTP

That said, I have read everything you have written about these two, the fic and all the OTP questions as well. But I have this very specific itch that will not leave me alone which you kind of touched on in one of your asks. What do you think Addie would be like if Jake got into an accident while flying? Nothing major obvs, but maybe a really bad scare?

No Callsigns

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 3.1k (Idk how that happened)

Warnings: whole thing takes place in a hospital, panic attack, character is seriously injured but the injuries are not described in any way, some light angst but with a happy ending

Notes: I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but this little scene has been playing around in my head for a long time. This is Addie reacting to Jake being injured, but it's not really an angst heavy introspective of how it makes her feel. It's more how it would play out.

This is a prequel to The Only Thing, but it can be read without reading the only thing. This story takes place before Jake goes to Top Gun the first time as a student but after he becomes a pilot.... Also Featuring Iceman and Coyote because why not.

“Seresin residence, you’ve got Addie.” Addie tucked the phone between her cheek and her shoulder to free up her hands as she turned back to the sauce bubbling away on the stove.

It was Thursday night. Thursday night meant family dinner in the Seresin household, and the girls, Addie included, took turns rotating who cooked. Normally, it would’ve been Ronnie’s turn, but she was back in Austin studying for an organic chemistry final. Which meant it should’ve been Andy’s turn, only Andy was off in New York at a high school friend’s bachelorette party. Which meant it should’ve been Debbie if not for the fact that Debbie’s sister was in town and demanded the two go to the city for the night.

Kate had offered to order the two of them Chinese food so neither had to cook, but Addie had been perusing the Seresin family recipes again and decided it was time to try her hand at Debbie’s world – or at least county – famous marinara sauce.

Things were shaping up quite nicely before the phone began to ring.

“This is Admiral Tom Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander. I’m calling to speak to Miss Debbie Seresin.”

Addie’s back straightened involuntarily. The wooden spoon in her hand slipped lower in the sauce as her grip on it loosened.

“She’s not in at the moment...” Addie didn’t really know what to say. “Can-Can I take a message?”

There was a quiet sigh on the other end of the phone. So quiet she almost missed it. So quiet she almost missed the melancholy coloring its’ tone. “Unfortunately not. Do you know how long until she’ll be back?”

The man’s voice didn’t turn up at the end the way one normally would to indicate a question. It stayed flat and even, like he didn’t have the energy to raise his voice, or perhaps more likely that the words were too heavy, too weighed down to be lifted up in any way.

“W-What happened to Jake?”

It wasn’t a question she was supposed to ask. Addie knew that. She’d had that talk with Jake before.

If something happened to him, she would have to find out from Debbie. The Navy didn’t exactly recognize ‘besties’ as a category for immediate disclosure. If he got hurt… or worse, the Navy would call his mom until he had a wife or kids.

“Pardon?” The high-ranking admiral on the other end of the line was, no doubt, not used to being questioned.

Addie wasn’t supposed to ask, wasn’t supposed to cause a scene, wasn’t supposed to stick her nose in. Jake had made it very clear that, much as he wanted them to tell her, much as he didn’t want her to find out second hand or have to wait for news, much as he loved her, the Navy would make her wait. She would have to wait, not on him, never on him, but certainly on them.

But Addie couldn’t help it. When Jake told her all those things, told her that if she ever got a call she would have to get ahold of his mom, told her that she shouldn’t barrage whoever called with questions, told her that she would have to get any news after the fact, told her to be on her best behavior if something really bad ever happened and someone important made the call… When he told her that, he’d never been on the receiving end.

He’d never felt his throat close up knowing that best case scenario she was in an ICU bed somewhere. He’d never gone weak in the knees when someone told him they could neither confirm nor deny that she was dead. He’d never spent hours waiting by a phone with the news blasting over loud speakers knowing she was going into a combat zone where she could be killed any second, knowing the six o’clock news might be told before him.

Jake had never gotten a phone call from someone telling him she was dead or dying, and he would never have to worry about getting that phone call, not really. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if their roles were reversed he would be so much worse.

“You’re a Fleet Commander; you wouldn’t be calling un-unless some-something really bad happened to Jake.” She felt out of breath, like she’d run a mile. Maybe it was the way her throat felt like she was breathing through a straw.

“Ma’am I’m not at liberty to discuss that with anyone other than Lieutenant Seresin’s next of kin.”

There was a loud crack followed by the sound of breaking glass. The salad bowl, balanced on the kitchen island behind her toppled to the ground and shattered as she stumbled back.

Next of kin. He was looking for Jake’s next of kin.

Addie gasped for air. “Is he alive?” Her words came out in a pant.

“Ma’am…”

She didn’t hear any more than that as Kate burst into the room.

“Addie, what’s…”

Addie was hyperventilating now. A hand on the island behind her, gripping the granite so hard her nails were cracking under the pressure, was all that kept her from sinking to the ground, unintentionally kneeling in the shattered glass around her.

Her hand pulled the phone away from her ear and waved it blindly in Kate’s direction as she desperately tried to catch her breath, tried to steady her shaking legs, tried to calm herself down.

“Who is this?” Kate’s tone was demanding, accusatory as she snatched the phone away from Addie. There was a brief pause as Kate’s face contorted. She clearly wasn’t getting the answer she wanted, or an answer at all.

“This is his sister, Kate. Now tell me who is calling, and why does Addie look like she’s having a panic attack?”

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

“Addie?”

Addie’s head jerked up at the sound of the name.

It was a pilot calling her. She recognized him immediately. One of Jake’s friends, the only Navy friend of Jake’s she’d met so far.

“Coyote, right?”

Coyote nodded and crossed the room in long, sure strides to stand beside her chair. There were seats open all around her, but he didn’t make a move to occupy any of them. He stood, feet shoulder-width apart, hands tucked behind his back. There was no rocking or shifting to his stance like there would’ve been a civilians, no pacing or show of emotions. He was soldier.

“Your Jake’s wingman?” Addie pulled her legs up into the seat with her, hugging them against her chest as she stared up at the man standing over her.

“Yes ma’am,” Coyote wasn’t looking down at her. He was looking straight ahead at some unknown point on the waiting room wall.

“Please don’t call me ma’am. You can call me (Y/n), or Addie, whatever you prefer.” Addie sighed, slumping back in the chair to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am. Jake calls me ma’am when he says I’m being a buzzkill.”

“From the stories Jake tells me, ma’am, that can’t be often.”

Addie’s eyes flashed back from the ceiling, just for a second, to see the corner of Coyote’s lips tugging up. He suppressed it well, but the amusement was still there. “You’re not much of a buzzkill either from what he tells me.”

“I try not to be.”

There was an amicable silence for several long moments. Coyote standing vigilant, staring at the wall behind her head, Addie tracing patterns in the ceiling with her eyes.

It was Coyote who broke it. “Are they… not allowing visitors yet?”

“They let his mom and Kate back about ten minutes before you got here.” Addie quickly corrected. “Two at a time. I let them go first.”

“Would you mind if I came in with you?” Coyote’s tone was constantly polite, deferential. It fit with the military man she knew he was, but she couldn’t reckon it with the stories Jake told her about his friend who seemed like absolute mayhem. “I know you’ll want some time alone with him. I’ll only need a minute. I just need…”

Coyote’s voice fell away, choked on a word Addie wasn’t sure which. It drew her eyes back from the ceiling, tilting her neck down to a more reasonable angle to look at his face.

Coyote’s gaze finally left the wall. It was like watching him pull himself together, draw up the courage to meet her gaze not that that made any sense. “It’ll only take a minute. I need to thank him, ma’am.”

“Thank him? What for?”

Coyote visibly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, but he made no other display of emotion even as he said, “Because, ma’am, I would be dead right now if he weren’t in that bed.”

A dawning realization crossed Addie, her jaw going slightly slack. “The medal… You’re the pilot he...”

“Yes ma’am.”

Addie gave a thoughtful nod. Much as it hurt her, pained her, filled her with overwhelming dread to think of Jake lying cooped up in a hospital bed, Commander what’s-his-name had painted a marvelous tale of heroism for Debbie once she finally returned home, and he told her the story.

And now she had a face and a name to put to the ‘fellow aviator’ whose life Jake had saved. A face she knew, a name she liked, a nice guy with his whole future ahead of him because of Jake’s skill and sacrifice.

“Of course,” Addie choked out, “you’re welcome to come in with me.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Coyote’s head turned back up to face the wall. He was only staring at it, and she was only staring at him, for a minute more before the doors behind him swung open.

“Addie, sweetie,” Debbie crossed the room in a flash of worry seeing yet another Navy uniform standing in front of one of ‘her own’.

“Debbie, this is Coyote,” Addie jumped straight to introductions even before she made it to her feet. “He’s going to come inside with me to see Jake for a minute if that’s alright. He is Jake’s wingman.”

Kate approached behind her mother, sticking out her hand to the aviator, “It’s Javy, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Debbie hugged Addie, ignoring Kate as she seemed ready to vet Coyote before allowing him entrance. “He’s doing a lot better than he looks,” Debbie whispered in Addie’s ear, hiding her voice in the tones of Kate and Coyote’s polite small talk in the background. “Really, the doctors say he’ll be his usual handsome self in no time and back to flying in a couple months. Don’t worry yourself to death, okay sweetie?”

“I’ll try not to.” Addie’s tone was as clipped as she felt.

Debbie pulled out of the hug and jerked her head towards the door. “Get on in there; you look like you’re barely stayin’ in your skin you wanna leave so bad.”

Addie nodded. She clearly wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact that she was ready to bolt.

“They made Jake sign a couple waivers for you,” Kate added before Addie could leave. “But it should all be sorted out now. They all know you’re staying the night and to talk to you.”

“Thanks Kate.”

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

“Jake,” Addie’s voice broke on his name as she froze in the doorway.

‘He’s doing a lot better than he looks.’

He didn’t look good.

Hospital gown slung low around his neck with wires running down under the fabric, needles poking from IV bags into one arm, head lulled back against a pile of uncomfortable looking pillows, an oxygen mask hanging loose around his neck, and a bag partially filled with what could only be urine connected to a tube that ran up under his thick pile of blankets.

The air was filled with the smell of chemicals and the constant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Addie,” Jake croaked out. His voice was rough, deep and crackling as if he’d been screaming nonstop for days which she knew he hadn’t.

Addie couldn’t help it. She flung herself across the room to his bedside. She’d not said a word about waiting for Debbie to get back from the city to find out what had happened. She’d not said a word while they waited in the airport for the first plane out to the base. She’d not said a word waiting for the taxi to the hospital. She’d even held herself back to let his family see him, knowing she wouldn’t be able to leave once she was in the room.

But now that she was in the room she couldn’t hold herself back. She balanced herself on the free inch of space at the edge of his bed and gave in to the absolute panic and desperation that had been warring quietly inside of her since the moment she managed to swallow them down in his family’s kitchen.

One of her hands reached across his body and clutched his left hand in a vice grip. It was almost the only inch of skin free of any signs of what happened. Her other went straight to his cheek, cupping it in her hand as the tears finally began to fall.

“When that admiral called I thought for sure you were dead.” She didn’t sob. Her voice was soft, calm, and unwavering even despite the tears. “I was so scared. I broke your mom’s favorite bowl. I couldn’t form a sentence; Kate thought I was in shock.”

Jake sighed and leaned his cheek into her hand. The rough cuts and scratches to the skin there brushed against her palm and reminded her that every part of him would be effected by this in some way. “You’re gonna have to try a little harder if you wanna get rid of me, darlin’.”

Addie smiled through the tears and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss, barely more than a brush of her lips, to his forehead. “Noted, next time I’ll do it myself.”

“I always knew you’d be the death of me.”

Addie chuckled and turned her face into his neck. Her temple brushed against his shoulder, and Jake winced. “Sorry.” She pulled back immediately.

“It’s alright, Addie,” Jake smiled up at her. Even his smile was scarred. His lip split in more than one place along it’s usually silky smooth lines. “Having you here makes up for it.”

“Well in that case, you should know I brought a friend.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Jake tried to laugh but immediately winced at the motion shaking his chest, “I only wanna see you.”

“I know,” Addie conceded easily and without any show of false modesty, “but I think you need to see him too.” Her fingers went to his hair, absently brushing the sweaty, greasy flyaways out of his face as she glanced back over her shoulder.

Coyote stepped in from where he’d been standing in the doorway. Jake’s senses, usually razor sharp, hadn’t so much as gotten a whiff at the other pilot. Whether that was due to his current state or the all-consuming peace that visibly washed over him the moment Addie walked in the room, no one could be sure.

“Hangman, I…”

“You don’t get to call him that here.”

It came out with more bite than Addie meant it to. She hadn’t intended it to have any at all, in fact. She’d only meant to say it matter-of-factly, but the emotions boiling up inside her simply could not be contained when she heard that callsign, that word.

“It’s fine, Addie.”

“No it’s not.” Addie looked to the floor to try to hide the glare that was forming in her eyes, but her words didn’t need an accompanying glare to convey how upset she was. “His name is Jake, and he wouldn’t be here if he hung you out to dry.”

“Addie…” Jake’s tone was placating.

“She’s right,” Coyote cut him off. “I’m sorry… Jake, I came here to thank you not insult you.”

Jake looked up at Coyote, utterly shocked. They were friends, certainly, but no one, not even his friends, had batted an eye when his squadron assigned him his callsign. No one batted an eye using it every day. No one ever questioned if he deserved it.

“You saved my life today, Jake, and I can never repay you for that.”

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

Addie couldn’t lay down with Jake in the hospital bed, much as it would have been both of their preference.

The nurses had spotted her sitting back against the pillows with him in the early evening hours and immediately put a stop to that and any other notions of Addie getting on the bed.

Instead, she’d shuffled the uncomfortable plastic couch in the corner up against the bed in what she was sure was a safety violation but could not have cared less at that moment in time.

The couch was much lower than the bed, but it was close enough that she could curl up and still reach a hand up to hold Jake’s.

“You didn’t have to do that today, Addie.” Jake murmured into the absolute stillness of the night.

The rest of the floor seemed to be asleep, even the beeping of his heart monitor had seemingly faded to a background drone. They were, at that moment, in the silence of the hospital and the darkness of the night, the only two people in the world.

“Yes I did,” Addie countered in a similarly quiet voice.

“Addie, they call me Hangman for a reason.” Jake gently pushed back. “I don’t like to admit it any more than you, but I earned that name. I hang them out to dry in training every day, and if it came down to it in a fight I probably would hang them out then too.”

“You didn’t though,” Addie reminded him quietly. “When the cards were down, you risked your life to save his.”

“And I almost didn’t make it.” Jake didn’t need to remind her of that. The awkward position holding hands through the railing of his bed did a fine job of that. “When I did it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How you met Coyote, how you liked Coyote, how you joked that the two of you would be really good friends one day… and I thought… I thought, ‘I have to go for it.’ For you.”

Addie’s hand tightened her grip on his, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “Well, that’s… morbid.” She propped an elbow on the back of the couch and lifted her head just over the edge of the bed to give Jake a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I’m just only allowed to meet friends you’d be willing to die for.”

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angelinaheartshapedbox · 2 months

Text

morbid attraction

Ethan Landry x reader

AU where Stu Macher has an illegitimate child. During Scream 6.

summary: Y/n is a freshman at Blackmore University. They're currently pursuing a bachelor's degree in forensic science to become an autopsy technician. To further their research, and to make money, they pick up shifts as a mortuary assistant. Y/n must come to terms with the trauma of gruesome murders of their hometown, copes with the memories of their ex girlfriend Amber Freeman, and with the fact that their father was a homicidal maniac. Running doesn't get them far from their past as it chases after them into New York City. But maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe, just maybe, the light is Ethan Landry.

!!WARNINGS!! graphic descriptions of gore and violence, PTSD, and dealing with trauma. Major content warnings will be placed before each chapter.

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Voicemail (2)

Scarred

Wordcount: 1.9k

Content warnings: blood, violence, guns.

“Who is this?” I ask, making eye contact with Sam.

The line goes dead.

“Who was it?” Sam questions with a serious tone.

“I think it was a prank call. It's fine” I reply, blocking the number, “Let's just get home.”

We get home and I go straight to my room. My body falls flat onto the comforter, face planted in my pillow. My Freddy makeup runs off onto my pillow and I just leave it. I debated sleeping in my costume. I am not in the mood.

I do, however, take my shirt off. I catch myself in the mirror by my bed. I stare at my torso. I run my middle finger down the scar that runs from my collar bone to my abdomen.

“Are you this pretty on the inside?”

Amber's voice echoed in my skull. Every muscle in my body tenses as I remember the feeling of the steel dragging through my torso. Amber's hands on my throat, pinning me to the floor. I remember how it felt to have the blood spill out of me. I just lied there, feeling myself leave.

My bedroom door swung open, “Y/n!”

I quickly grabbed my shirt off the floor and covered myself, “Ethan, what the fuck?!”

Ethan's hand flew to cover his eyes, “Oh, my god. I’m- I'm so- oh, God. I’m sorry.”

“It's fine, just close the door,” I say and he slams the door, “And knock!”

“Can you come out here?!” Ethan yells through the door.

“Why?”

“Y/n, hurry!” Mindy called out.

I threw my shirt over my head and rushed out the door, still tugging my shirt over my body. “What's up, Min?”

Mindy points to the TV. There's a new reporter discussing a murder. All I could really understand was:

“Blackmore students.”

“Brutally murdered.”

“Ghostface.”

I look at Tara, then Sam. I can tell what Sam is thinking.

“Sam-”

“Pack a bag. We leave in 10.”

“God, damn it.”

Tara and I chased Sam into the kitchen, calling after her.

“We’re leaving the city,” Sam tells us, taking a knife from the holder.

“Wait, let’s talk about this for a second, this may have nothing to do with us!” Tara tries to rationalize with Sam.

I said, “Yeah, I saw, like, 15 people wearing that mask tonight.”

“Are you serious?” Sam looks at us like we’re out of our minds.

“It’s a big city!”

“This isn’t a coincidence! You knew him!” Sam yells at Tara.

Tara rolls her eyes, “Barely.”

I rubbed my face with my hands. I sighed in annoyance.

“Chad, Mindy, back me up,” Tara begged our friends.

Chad looked at Mindy, “It is a little bit…”

“Close to home” Mindy finished.

“I’m not going fucking anywhere,” I told them, “I’m tired of being scared of these fuckers.”

Sam looked at me, “You should be scared.”

Tara turned to Quinn, “Quinn, your dad’s a cop, right? Can you call him and see what’s going on?” Tara looked back and me and Sam, “Before you make the unilateral to abandon our college education and flee the fucking state!”

“Again” I muttered. I really missed California.

Quinn called her dad. As we waited, Sam’s phone rang. Everyone stared at her phone, waiting for her to answer. I peaked over her shoulder. It was Gale.

“Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?” Ethan asked, genuine confusion on his face.

“Oh, E. You do not pay attention when I talk, huh?” I said to him.

“You gotta keep up my dude” Anika adds.

“Sam? My dad wants to talk to you” Quinn said, handing Sam her phone.

The detective tells Sam that he needs me and her to come to the station. He said he needed to ask us some questions. I was now shaking. It felt like I had a scar on my brain from last year’s massacre, and someone just cut through the scar tissue. I felt sick knowing that this was involving us again.

I followed Sam out to the front of the apartment. Tara is close behind.

“Tara, no. Get back inside, lock the door” Sam demands.

“We’ll be back soon” I reassured her.

“Really? Now you don’t wanna stick together?” Tara says.

Sam’s phone rings again. The number belongs to Richie Kirsch.

“What the fuck?” Tara mutters.

Sam replies, “I never deleted his contact. It’s coming from his number.”

“Sam, don’t answer that. Sam-”

She doesn’t listen to me and answers the call. She leaves various threats to whoever is on the other line.

“The last people who tried to fuck with us ended up dead.”

As she continues to speak to the potential murderer like an idiot, I stand and look around the streets. I pay attention to people talking on the phone. Before anything else happens, Tara is grabbed from behind. By someone in a Ghostface mask. Tara shoves him into the bushes, I kick him before I run. Sam has us go into the nearby bodega.

“Please help us! We’re being attacked!”

“He’s gonna fucking kill us! Call the fucking cops!”

The Ghostface enters the shop. A guy in line steps up to him, trying to be tough. He’s brutally stabbed and killed in front of us. The shop goes crazy, everyone is screaming and running. The store clerk grabs a shotgun from behind the counter and shoots at the Ghostface.

“Go out the back!” he yells at us.

I sprint towards the door, “It’s locked!”

“Keys! We need the keys!” Tara shouts at him.

The store clerk fumbles with his keys and the Ghostface approaches. We scream at him, but it’s too late. He’s impaled multiple times. The Ghostface takes his gun. He cocks it and shoots in our direction. The bullet barely grazes my shoulder, but it stings like a son of a bitch.

Sam has us duck in an aisle. He shoots at the freezers behind us. We sit in silence, quivering. I’m squeezing Tara’s hand so hard my knuckles turn white. With my other hand I grip my shoulder that’s leaking blood onto my Freddy costume. Tara’s shaking and so am I. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying. Sam grabs an empty beer can and throws it in the opposite direction. Once he’s distracted, we tip the shelf over and crush him. Sam grabs us by our wrists and drags us out of the bodega and into the street. Cop cars and an ambulance are waiting.

I sit in the ambulance as the EMT stitches my wound. She said it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. I bit my lip again to get over the stinging pain. I try my best to not watch as the need and thread closes my bloody wound. It wasn’t a huge one, but she said it would most likely leave a scar. Of course. As soon as I’m patched up Detective Bailey takes us to the station.

The crime scene photos lay on the table in front of us. Sam sat next to Tara and I sat on the other side of her. I placed my head on her shoulder and grabbed her hand. Tara has been my best friend since grade school. When she was attacked by Amber last year, I thought it was all my fault. I thought it was because of my dad. I’d always been close to Sam, too. She was like an older sister. She always told me what to do, whether I wanted her to or not. She used to snitch on me to my mother all the time. Our moms were good friends, they knew each other’s secret. Mine and Sam’s secret.

Detective Bailey finally entered the room. He sat down and placed a Ghostface mask on the table. I looked away from it.

“This was found next to the body at the apartment crime scene,” Bailey told us, “DNA says it belonged to someone named Richie Kirsch.”

I looked at Sam and Tara, they looked at me.

“Does that ring a bell?”

Sam answered for us, “We’re familiar with him.”

“But the one that attacked us had a different mask on,” Tara added, “It was kinda more beat up. Like it was older.”

I nodded in agreement.

Bailey cleared his throat, “Uh, I gotta ask. Do you have alibis for earlier tonight?”

“I was at a party with my friends,” Tara responded.

I answered, “Uh, I was with Tara. At the party.”

Sam gave her alibi of her therapist’s office, “And then I met Tara and Y/n at the party. Where I tased someone.”

Bailey gives her a concerned look and I put my head in my hands in defeat.

“Unrelated.”

Sam asks him how he even ended up with our case. He explains that he was offered it because it involves Quinn. He asks us some more questions. Sam’s ID and my social security card were found next to the body at the apartment.

“Wait, this asshole has my social security number?” I ask, “I’m gonna k-”

“Y/n” Tara interrupts me before I finish.

“So if the man that attacked you did steal your license and your social security and plant it next to the body, it’d probably be someone close to you.”

We go over our friends. Detective Bailey clears Quinn immediately. He asks if we know of anyone that might want to target the three of us.

“Not anyone who’s still alive,” Tara says.

“We’re not easy targets,” I noted.

Another officer peaks into the room. He says that the FBI is here and is taking over jurisdiction. Bailey gets up and leaves. Sam sighs loudly. The other officer lets us out and hands us our belongings. When we finally exit the investigation room, we see Kirby.

Kirby Reed was a victim/survivor of the Ghostface killings in 2011. She went to high school with Sam, but I never really knew her personally.

Kirby and Sam hug. She acknowledges me and Tara as she pulls away.

“You’re the FBI?” Sam asks

Kirby nods, “Mhm.”

“You guys know each other?” Bailey asks.

Sam explains how we know Kirby. Then, Kirby talks to Bailey about the jurisdiction of the case. I excuse myself as my phone starts ringing.

I walk into an empty room and answer my phone, “Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. I heard you got shot? Are you okay?” Ethan’s voice comes through the speaker, laced with concern.

I laugh, “Yeah, E, I’m good. It’s barely a flesh wound. We’re still at the station, but we’ll leave pretty soon. I have a class at 9, so I need to get out of here fast.”

It was probably about 4AM when we got into the station, and now it was 7AM.

“You’re going to school? You’re just ignoring all of this?”

“I can’t let some stupid dickhead in a mask ruin my entire life. I’ve been running from Ghostfaces my whole life.”

There was no sound from Ethan for a few seconds.

“Can we get lunch then?” he asked, “So I can check-in with you. Make sure you’re dealing with everything okay?”

“You’re very sweet. Yes, we can have lunch. Just text me where. I gotta go now, bye.”

I hung up. Ethan was the most worried person I knew. He was a sweetheart, and I tried my best to help him out. When our friends made fun of him, even as a joke, I made them quit. I could tell that some things got to him and he didn’t deserve that. We’d gotten pretty close in the six months we’d known each other.

“Y/n?” Sam entered the room I was in, “Let’s go.”

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a/n: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGG. i rewatched scream vi like 3 or 4 times making this but anyway. next chapter will probably be short but out sooner :) thanks for reading <3

#scream #scream vi #scream 6 #ghostface #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fanfiction

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