#maybe ill be able to do one or two more things for it before october ends

[kenmaiii]

-w- he is just so cute 🐚🐚🐚

[secretobsessionstuff]

ok ill start by saying no problem if this takes a year!! you're clearly super busy + i will love reading all the fics that come before my ask hehehe. im on the dakota/blair bandwagon lately. for dakota, in a future fic could he stuff himself with a meal, but not drink enough water and have a very thick, dense problem on his hands when he finally starts puking forreal. blair could help him get it up, with rubs and words of encouragement? it makes me giddy to think about !! thats my request if you ever have time and if it sounds good. now off to read some more fiiic!!

Hello lovely Anon! I bet this legitimately took a year so I thank you for your immense patience. This is halloween themed because I wrote it way back in October lol 🧡

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

Halloween fell on a Monday night that year, meaning Dakota and Blair acted like responsible adults by staying home. Work the next day meant they couldn’t spend the night at a party. Besides, most of their friends were pretending to be adults too, so there weren’t many parties being thrown in the first place. 

Dakota felt like a proper, boring middle-aged man as prepared to spend his night giving out candy. He sat on the porch, wearing fall gloves and a Halloween scarf. Candy corn danced across the scarf. It certainly was cold enough to justify the warm attire. Luckily, he could get away with a hoodie instead of a coat, so he was comfortable as he waited for children to walk up to the house. 

A bucket of chocolate bars and chips kept Dakota company. Though the candy couldn’t talk about its day, it was a decent substitute for his fiancée. Blair promised she would join him outside once she finished some extra work that she hadn’t been able to accomplish at the office. So, Dakota had to entertain himself with Kit Kats and mini bags of potato chips. It was relatively easy to forget his loneliness when his fingers were covered in Dorito Dust. He was in the middle of licking the cheesy residue off his fingers when Blair popped her head out the front door. 

“Hey! Those are for the kids,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“What kids?” Dakota spread his arms out, gesturing to the quiet street. “I’ve been out here an hour, and so far I’ve seen a pirate, a banana, and a something from Minecraft.” 

“That’s it?” Blair stepped outside in her socks and crossed her arms over her chest to stay warm. She looked up and down the street. She could see one or two families making their way to each house. Many houses on the street were dark. It made her pout. “Where is everyone?” 

“I don’t think there’s many kids in our neighbourhood,” Dakota said around a mouthful of chocolate. The Mars bar he chewed on was nearly frozen. It gave his jaw a workout to simply bite down of the gooey thing. Blair saw him reaching for another piece of candy but didn’t say anything. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. 

“Sit with me,” Dakota requested, eyeing the empty chair next to him. “You gotta be done working now.” 

“I’m almost there.” 

“Well, maybe you should…” –he opened his hand to reveal a Kit Kat resting on his palm— “take a break.” 

Blair chuckled at him before swiping the chocolate bar from his hand. She bit the thing in half without breaking apart the sticks, you know, like a monster. 

Dakota gawked at her. “How could you—No, no, get out of my face.” He waved her away with an exaggerated flick of his wrist. “You disgust me.” 

“You’re a child.” Blair stuck her tongue out at him. It still had chocolate on it. And yes, she saw the irony perfectly well. Before going back inside, she turned around to say, “Oh, I’m also making food, so you don’t need to be snacking on candy.” 

“I can do what I want because I’m an adult.” He threw a candy wrapper at her. It landed two millimetres from his own foot. He just stared down at it, the sting of betrayal in his heart. Blair laughed at him and left him on his own again. 

Dakota still had a silly smile on his face when the next trick or treaters showed up. Finally, more kids! These two were dressed as dogs with shiny black makeup on their noses. Dakota was delighted to see that the parents had whiskers and patches drawn on their faces as well. He waited for the kids to say their line before dropping candy in their bags. The sad turnout this year made him overly generous. He gave them each two bags of chips and a handful of chocolate bars as opposed to the standard two. He finished by saying Merry Christmas, to which the kids giggled and corrected the silly man. 

And that was it for a while. Dakota went back to snacking because that was the only thing to do. The big box of chocolate they bought came with four different bars, so obviously he had to have one of each. Then two more. Then another two. Pretty soon the pocket of his hoodie was stuffed with candy wrappers. The chocolate made his mouth sticky, and the salty chips made him wish he brought his water bottle outside with him. Unfortunately, he was too lazy to get up, so he suffered with the taste of caramel on his tongue. Truly it was torture, but for some reason he plunged his hand back into the candy bowl. 

As promised, Blair finally joined him on the porch. He told her about the horrifying monsters and trendy video games characters that he encountered all by himself. He even had to resist the urge to run away when a bottle of ketchup came asking for candy. 

Blair glanced at the bowl. She was pleased to see it was significantly less full. “So, more people showed up then?” 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Dakota mumbled after burping into his fist. God, if only there had been more trick or treaters, Dakota might not have felt so full just then. 

“You didn’t!” 

He looked down at his lap, knowing that far too many candy wrappers were shoved into his pockets. And far too many sweets were shoved into his belly. “I’m fine,” he insisted when Blair give a surprised look. 

“I know you’re fine. It’s the kids I’m worried about.” 

“There’s plenty more candy, Bee.” 

She crossed her arms but conceded because she knew he was right. There were more treats, yet less and less trick or treaters. 

Blair had almost settled into her chair, when she jumped up. “Oh pizza. I made pizza.” She looked back and forth at Dakota and the bowl of candy. “That is, if you’re still hungry.” 

“You think I’d say no to pizza?” 

So, they ate their pizza outside, hoping that more kids would show up. A few did and they got enough candy for the entire year. 

Of course, Dakota did not say no pizza, but he did have less slices than he normally would. Halfway through his third slice, he realized that he was unusually full from the sweets he had earlier. It was a challenge to swallow the last bite because his mouth was terribly dry and his belly was terribly stuffed with food. 

“Shoot, I forgot to bring out drinks,” Blair said, as if she were reading his mind. But the both of them were comfy and couldn’t bring themselves to stand. And anyway, a giant inflatable t-rex was walking up to them which understandably stole their attention. 

After wishing the t-rex a happy Halloween, Dakota let a burp rumble up from his chest. He’d been holding it in while they spoke to the kid and her family. He could feel the pressure building in his throat. When he finally released the burp, it came up gooey and thick. It was the type of burp that brought him dangerously close to barfing in his mouth. Dakota shivered as he swallowed acid.

“Wow,” Blair said in response to the deep belch. “You must have been holding that one in.” 

Dakota grimaced and rubbed his chest. “Didn’t want to be rude.” 

“Rude to the t-rex?” 

“The kid was standing right in front of me, what did you want me to do?” 

Another belch burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his tongue with the taste of tomato sauce and chocolate—a weird combination that made him shudder with nausea. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” 

“Your stomach upset?” 

Dakota nodded. “Feels like a fucking brick.” He used his fingertips to press down onto his abdomen. It was bloated and noisy. Grumbles and whines emanated from his gut. 

The tightness became too much to bear, so he stood up. Hopefully, moving around would help his stomach digest the sticky mess faster. 

For the first time that night, Dakota was glad that there weren’t many people out trick or treating. It was getting too late for kids now anyways, so he was likely safe to burp without fearing that strangers were about to walk up to him. 

Oh, but he did more than burp. He groaned and whined as he paced nervously. This was bad; he hadn’t realized how full he was until he stood up. He felt the food in his stomach shift and tumble together like one big gooey ball. He kneaded his belly, hoping to coax a bubble of air out of his system. His stomach was rock hard beneath his hand. 

“Fuck, Bee, this really hurts.” Despite the cold air, sweat coated his brow. 

Blair stood with him, worried by this sudden development. “Are you going to be sick?” 

“I’d like to. I’m way too full right now.”

Dakota bent forward with his hands on his knees. He tried to force up more burps, hoping that would give his stomach the go-ahead to empty itself. He should have felt bad for wasting perfectly tasty candy, but all he felt was an intense need to relieve the ache. A grating sound gurgled in his throat as his belly spasmed. 

The organ gave a small heave, sending up thick saliva and a pathetic amount of sick. Dakota spat a thick glob onto the ground with a moan. An uncomfortable chill zipped down his spine when the horrendous texture touched his tongue. He could fell chunks of sick trying to come up his throat, but it wasn’t moving. He retched again, his back arching violently. Still nothing came up. 

“Baby, that sounds horrible,” Blair cooed, placing a hand on his back. “Just let it out.” 

“I can’t,” he groaned. “It won’t come up. I wish—” he sniffled. “—I wish there were more liquid in my stomach. You know, to get things moving.”

“I’ll get you some water.” She gave his back a firm pat before leaving. 

Dakota breathed deeply through his nose. For a moment, he entertained the idea of jumping to get things rolling but decided that was a stupid idea. It would surely give him heartburn on top of the nausea. He may have felt like a child who devoured too much candy, but what he said to Blair earlier was right; He was an adult and he just had to suffer through the pain. No jumping. Just wait. 

Luckily his patience paid off because a minute later, his stomach lurched on its own. 

A thick wave of vomit came rushing up his throat. He felt the chunks in his mouth for a second before the sick splattered at his feet. He was far from done. Another guttural retch tore up his throat. It was empty. Dakota huffed and hoped the next lurch would be productive. 

Blair came back with his water bottle just in time to see him choke up a mouthful of dense vomit. He had to spit it out because it wasn’t flowing on its own. She was surprised to see that there was already a sizeable puddle at his feet. 

He managed to take in a sharp inhale in between bouts, shooting a miserable look at his fiancée 

Blair pouted at him and began rubbing big circles on his back. “At least you’ll start feeling better now.” 

Dakota hugged his middle. “There’s more. I can feel it.” He winced and pressed his hand right below his rib. “Can you help me? Maybe rub my stomach?” 

“Chug this water first.” She handed him the bottle and watched his throat bob as he drank. He kept a hand on his bloated belly. 

A hearty belch burst from his mouth when he finished. Saliva dripped from his lips. 

“Here we go,” Blair said, gently placing both her hands on his stomach. She used the heel of her hand to massage the area. Her touch coaxed out another wet burp almost immediately. “Oh, that’s it. Lean forward.”  

Dakota put his hands on his knees again to get his stomach at a better angle. That, coupled with the fact that Blair applied the right amount pressure, meant that the next wave came up easily. It was wet and fell past his lips like a waterfall. 

“Yes, Kota. Get it all up. That’s it.” Blair somehow knew when to use a gentle touch and when to go firmer. With every move she made him feel a little bit better. She kept whispering by his ear, telling him that he was doing good. She could feel the tension in his back melt off his tired muscles. 

With one last heave, Dakota brought up everything in his stomach. The last remnants of chocolate and candy splattered into the impressive puddle that he made. 

Finally, he stood up straight, no longer feeling that uncomfortable fullness. His throat was raw, and his abs were on fire, but he was free of the pressure and the ache. 

He was not, however, free of the embarrassment that came with the overindulgence. He let out a long exhale and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I really needed that.” 

“I know.” Blair grinned at him. “You must be tired after that. Ready to get your jammies on and brush your teeth?” 

“Shut up. We must never speak of what happened on this frightful Hallows Eve.” 

“It’ll make a good cautionary tale. Kids need to know the dangers of too many sweets.” 

“And not enough hydration.” 

Blair shook her head at him. “That too.” She grabbed his arm and led him inside. “Seriously, how’s your stomach doing now?” 

“It hurts. Never underestimate the importance of drinking water.” 

She chuckled softly. “I’ll try to remember that next time you get your hands on candy.” 

[d-criss-news]

How Darren Criss Spends His Sundays

The performer enjoys rituals that are both old-school (park bench workouts) and New Age (cryotherapy treatments).

—

One would think, given his holiday album, “A Very Darren Crissmas,” that Darren Criss would be kind of obsessed with Christmas. This is not quite accurate, he said. “However, aside from the convenient, yet eye-rolling pun that is the title, it is a very me collection of songs.”

For example, the actor, singer and songwriter updated the second track of the recording, “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” a 1953 novelty hit originally performed by a 10-year-old, with an almost hip-hop feel. “I don’t take myself too seriously,” he said.

He did, however, take home an Emmy for his visceral 2018 portrayal of Gianni Versace’s killer in Ryan Murphy’s “American Crime Story” series. (The actor humbly described it as a “participation trophy.”)

But back to the music. Mr. Criss has developed and is starring in a cabaret version of “Crissmas,” currently running at Café Carlyle in Manhattan through Dec. 10. Afterward, he’ll take the show on the road, with stops in Morristown, N.J., on Dec. 11, Huntington, N.Y., on Dec. 15 and Ridgefield, Conn., on Dec. 16.

Mr. Criss, 35, along with his wife, Mia Criss, 37, a producer, and their 8-month-old daughter, Bluesy Belle, split their time between Los Angeles and Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan.

MATCHA, THEN FRISSON Never really drank coffee. Grew up in an Asian household drinking real, bitter Japanese matcha you’d be ill-advised to consume on an empty stomach. Not that sugary Starbucks stuff.

These days, however, being a new parent in my 30s, I have gotten into espresso. It’s helpful. Only a very specific type, though. Terrified of sounding pretentious here, but, yes, I only drink ristretto (“restricted” in Italian). This is just a shorter, more condensed shot of espresso. When we downsized to Hell’s Kitchen in October, we stumbled upon this cute, 47th Street coffee shop called Frisson. Felt pretentious asking, “Do you guys do a proper ristretto?” But these guys were like, “Of course!” Been going there ever since.

PRACTICALITIES First off, never in a million years did I think I’d live in Hell’s Kitchen. Mia and I have lived mainly downtown: Chelsea, the Village, Lower East Side. But, when she became pregnant, I started thinking, you know, since I’m doing Broadway shows roughly every other year, it’d make sense to be close to the theater.

BROADWAY ZONE Upon leaving my apartment, I encounter one of two genres of person: tourists or theater people. And they’re easy to tell apart. I run into colleagues: musicians, stage hands, directors. This sort of busybody theater world contained within a few block radius. Radii?

CRACKS You have to have a certain constitution for Hell’s Kitchen. Yes, there’s the crazies and the commercial hoo-ha, things many Manhattanites hate most. And yes, the neighborhood is dirty and smells a little weird. But I’m kind of invigorated by it. And I know where the cracks are.

COSMIC Plus, Mia and I love being able to walk to Cosmic Diner. Just your typical, no-frills greasy spoon. Don’t know if the pandemic changed it, or if I changed, but before this year, most of my memories at Cosmic were definitely between the hours of 3 and 7 a.m. Don’t think I’d ever been there during daylight. Eat some grease, to try to put a dent in your hangover, that’s my line. Not to say we’re hung over. We’re responsible parents. Obviously.

KEEP IT SIMPLE Big fitness guy. This is my first time living in a building with a gym; we’d always lived in older buildings. But my routine’s still: Give me an hour and a park bench, and I’m good. Run down Hudson River Park, maybe down near Little Island, which is so cute and gorgeous. Then I’ll box jump onto a bench. A box jump is a jump squat, except you’re leaping onto a higher surface. I love it.

FROZEN Of all the eye roll-y, New Age-y things you could make fun of a guy who works in Hollywood for, I’ve gotten really into cryotherapy. They’re often booked on Sundays, but I try to get in after the workout, feels like a full-body ice pack. Helps with inflammation. During our “American Buffalo” run on Broadway this year, Laurence Fishburne, Sam Rockwell and I would go and get some cryo done in between the matinee and evening shows. We were very much like theater homies. There’s a spot right on Central Park South called the Fuel Stop. You’re essentially standing in a fridge, inducing a sort of fight-or-flight response.

THE COLD CHAMBER When I first tried it, I was like, “Well, what do you do in there for those three or four minutes?” And the cryo guy was like, “Oh, we play music and dance around.” And I was like, “Oh, awesome. What would you recommend?” And, I’ll never forget this, the cryo guy said, “Daft Punk.” Of course! So, now I blast dance music and kind of two-step in the cold chamber. I like being in the chamber. When you walk out, all these endorphins are released. Though maybe it’s all a wild placebo, and in a few years scientists and bloggers will say everybody who did cryo back in the 2020s were suckers.

BEWITCHING HOUR But, let’s not forget the placebo effect is, nonetheless, an effect. And yes, being New Age-y again: I find blue light very destructive for sleep. So, if I really want to watch something, I have blue-light-blocking glasses. But, in general, I do less consuming at night, as it seems the next song or musical can only be written in the wee hours. Though my wife and I did just finish watching the new season of “Derry Girls.” Once Mia falls asleep, I’m out here in the living room with my guitar and piano. My brain is most active when everyone’s asleep.

THE TANK But, truth is you’re always writing, whether you like it or not. Input via sonic cues, always on. Ideas haunt you constantly. So, at night, it’s often less about coming up with lyrics and melodies than it is about organizing what’s already in the tank.

For example, my wacky Hippo riff was actually the result of walking around department stores for years, Christmas after Christmas, hearing that ’50s novelty song and saying to myself, “You know what’d be funny?” Then finally sitting up one night and doing it.

See the photos

[thessalian]

Thess vs Minor Improvements

Okay, so the few bits of good news:

My stepfather fixed the sink. Apparently there's nothing I can do to stop it from doing that, and thankfully it's only likely to do that to any great degree once every few years. Maybe "it's been long enough that the shittily designed plumbing in this flat has been able to clog beyond redemption" will be enough of a wake-up call for my stepfather to get a bloody move on with actual renovations.

And then there's the job.

...No, okay, look, before I go on with the minor improvements, I have to say a thing. Yes, I know that this job is wearing me down and making me very unhappy. However, two things:

Unbelievable as it sounds, this is the best job I've ever had. It accommodates my medical issues, where others have literally fired me for being ill (yes, they were temp jobs, but the last time I checked, one day to recover from the fact that I could barely even walk because of the horrible chair they stuck me with and refused to even try to replace even when I told them it was causing me physical pain was not grounds for terminating a contract). There have been at least two jobs that have literally rendered me unable to work for varying spans of time, whether because migraine or back problems because of a shitty chair or RSI so bad I could barely move my hands. THIS IS THE BEST OF THEM. Meditate on that awhile.

There is no earthly way that I could find a job that would accommodate my disability in this economy. None. Not in this economy, not in this country. The push to get people back into the office means that getting to work from home would be next to impossible, and part-time? Forget it. I was lucky that this job valued me enough to accommodate me, and that took a literal year of fighting for it.

So no, I can't "just find another job". And even if I did, it would be worse. I can guarantee you that it would be worse. And the disability benefits in this country are nearly impossible to get, even harder to keep, and harder still to live on. This is the one place I have to vent, okay? Let me vent. Send me sympathy, or if you can't, at least don't skirt the edge of potential victim-blaming. None of this is my fault, and if "just finding another job" - and more to the point, finding a better job - were so fucking easy, we'd all be doing it, for one reason or another. I just have it a little harder than some because I need accommodations that almost no one is willing to give. Please, just let me fucking vent.

Anyway. On to the workplace. There is some questionable good news. After a lot of yelling at HR over email, they finally sent an actual guide on how to use the Timesheet system. However, it was not particularly comprehensive. It took a lot of fiddling to find out which of the many extraneous codes I wanted for submitting an overtime claim - apparently "Extra Hours Worked" ain't it, and you have to go through three pages of menu to find "Overtime", which actually does. So I have successfully submitted my claim for the overtime I did in October. Unfortunately, I can't submit my claims for August and September, because I've been paid for those months already and "Historical Data Cannot Be Edited". So basically all this faffing about has meant that I wasn't able to submit my overtime claim for those months. Scruffman is going to escalate this, because he agrees that I should not be denied the pay for the nearly fifty fucking hours I put in during those two months. I figure what'll happen is that I'll have to put those hours into random spots in November and make a note that those are carried over from August and September.

Though that might be hard, all things considered. See, I may end up having to put in yet more overtime, because again, "unexpected absences". I don't know what the fuck is going on with my colleagues in the office, but it's clearly some kind of absolute clustermolest. Also, the New One is following Temp's example and will not touch a piece of dictation that's over a minute long. This is just a theme now. I've told Scruffman that I won't be able to pull overtime until I'm feeling better, though, because I feel like absolute crap right now. Fibromyalgia and con crud have a lot to answer for.

...Gods, I hope this isn't the flu...

[everythingsinred]

Hi, I was wondering when you might start your Mikan essay. I read your anime and NM manga essays during my college semesters, and it’s a great destressor!

But I saw something called atrad, and was wondering if it’s posted yet? I love your writing, and would love to check it out as well.

From,

🐶 🐱 💜 ✍️

Hi!

thank u for asking! atrad is the fic im writing right now, all things rancid and delicate, which is an au about mikan in a manson-esque cult! its dark and has some triggering material but i linked it in case ur interested in reading! its 15 chapters so far and i was on a mini hiatus bc of another fic, school, graduation, and also a lil summer laziness. i have maybe 5 chapters left to write and im halfway thru the next one.

when im done w atrad ill write the mikan essay! hers is a little daunting but mostly im excited to start. my sister and i are doing a reread and its allowing me to prep some thoughts. ill do another grander deep read as i do my essay.

so ill start it late august-september. ill be writing it for that time but i dont think ill start posting until october, because 1. i wanna get a headstart and have more written before i start posting so i dont feel as much pressure bc that was often a problem w the natsume essay and 2. ill actually be out of the country visiting my older sister in ireland for 2 weeks at some point so i wont be able to post anything during that time so id rather start posting after than ghosting for two weeks lol!

its definitely coming. ive been so excited to write this essay and itll even be longer than natsumes, most likely! im so happy to see that ppl are interested in whats to come! 😭💞 im gonna get thru atrad and start writing the essay, no worries abt that!

[meaning-and-me]

10/12/23

Somehow managed to extract this week's discussion posts for school out of my brain. It's only two classes, but I haven't been able to do any kind of school work since mid 2020, when I finished up the classes I had enrolled in right before the pandemic. That was just two as well but was so much worse than this- even though now I'm literally actively in withdrawal. Stuff is crazy like that.

It would be easier to talk about this stuff if suffering could somehow be quantified more easily. And the baseline is always shifting. Add in measurements like the pain scale, and I think it is just impossible to accurately describe what any given day is like for a chronically ill person. We are all so different. I say this but then also- it is easy for me, and accurate for me, to say that things are better for me now than they were back in August. Or June. Or January, or a year ago. It even goes further than that though- I became unable to work from my physical illnesses in 2019, but was disabled by mental illness much longer prior.

The thing I am thinking about most right now is the benzodiazepine withdrawal, and that is what I get most wistful about. Mostly because it is easier to accept I mostly consented to the other medications, though once again informed consent was not perfect or emphasized to me. The problem with the benzo is they gave me a daily dose at 16. I take issue with this for two reasons: one, I was a minor. I do not think at that you can properly consent to a drug like that as a child (cue many moral arguments for and against). Secondly, it has been known for some time that benzodiazepines are not suitable for daily use due to the effects of dependency on the body. I can't cite that for you right now and if it was me reading this five years ago I would have fought you on that fact. But please do some digging.

I don't know the extent to which they really recognized that back in 2011-2012 when Ativan was prescribed to me, but I know that it has been known for a long time. And now that was over a decade ago. Surely at some point one of the 20+ doctors I have seen for chronic conditions, or psychiatrists, would have recognized that the drug was a problem. But it never happened. It would be briefly mentioned in our appointments maybe but no one wanted to deal with it. I was mentally stable which was a feat for me when you compared my adult mental health to how I was as a child, so no one messed with it.

I understand why it happened this way. I would have fought tooth and nail to stay on it because I too was terrified to mess with my status quo. But then back in January of 2023 I had a few conversations with people who had experienced benzodiazepine dependency, and it led me to Benzodiazepine Information Coalition. I started reading more about people's experiences on these meds, and the documented long term effects of dependency. It planted a seed for me, and here I am in October of 2023 in my fifth week off of Ativan.

Part of the purpose of this blog is because I strongly believe in the power of context. I believe in the complexity of every human's story, and maybe the older you get the harder it is to sum up. I can feel this as a turning point in my life- something wrapping up the last ten or twenty years maybe, and it's so much to process. It's so much to hold. I'd like to have some kind of record of this time even if it doesn't become a habit. And considering the level of fog I've been existing in for a very long time now it just feels like a luxury to be able to write about it at all. I'm so afraid to hope but that is what I survive on. I'm taking a more holistic approach these days to my health and also accepting that much of what I am going through right now feels like a massive leap of faith. Like I said in the last post, all I can do is try. I wasn't ready to do this for a long time and now the time is here!

One thing I said a lot when I was in the middle of my taper off of ativan and phenibut that might sound like total bullshit to some is how much of a blessing it feels like to be able to suffer in this way. And now I've reached the destination, but it's more like another leg of a triathlon haha.

[suzythelie]

I posted 6 times in 2022

That's 6 more posts than 2021!

6 posts created (100%)

0 posts reblogged (0%)

I tagged 5 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#abuse survivor - 3 posts

#complex ptsd - 3 posts

#bipolar 2 - 3 posts

#mental disorder - 3 posts

#mental health - 3 posts

#ptsd - 2 posts

#bipolar mania - 2 posts

#stranger things - 1 post

#mental illness - 1 post

#bipolar disorder - 1 post

Longest Tag: 16 characters

#bipolar disorder

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Recovering from narcissist abuse,and severe ptsd. Im bipolar and im just barely hanging on. Some days go by ok and some days I hide and cry all day. I scream on the inside so no one hears me, I smile because I dont want anyone to know how bad I feel. The sun doesn't shine on me and the darkness is not where I want to be. I never want anyone to know how bad I'm hurting, but sometimes its to much. I feel so lost and um looking for something anything that makes me feel better. I dont want sympathy, I dont want to blame anyone, I just want to be able to stand on my own two feet and feel worthy of life.

0 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

#4

Today I hate myself! I slept to long, I are the wrong food, im gaining weight when I need to lose. My head hurts from crying, my knees hurt from praying to God to help me find peace. I want to scream and throw something breakable. I want so much to be ok and stop feeling this way. How am I so old and still so stupid. Why do I always choose to care. I let him hurt me over and over so many times that when he left for good I just knew he would come back. I took steps to make sure he would never hurt me again. Steps that I knew he would not be able to accept, I didnt want him back. I was to scared that I would keep allowing him to hurt me until he went to far.i didn't know he was a narcissist for sure. The day he told me he was marring a girl half our age it was like he took all of the air out of my lungs and held his hand over my mouth so I couldn't get more. Now she is his victim and im living in a nightmare. Im scared of the whole world. I cant ever be with someone like him again but everyone I meet seems to be like that. So it must be me. So what do I do. I put on a smile and I pray to God above please don't let me fall in love today everyday. It would kill me.

1 note - Posted October 19, 2022

#3

I want to write a book and I need some help. I dont even know where to start actually.

1 note - Posted August 19, 2022

#2

I had never heard the word "narcissist " before and I really didn't know what it meant. About six months into my relationship with him my daughter said to me" mom he is a Narcissist and he will only hurt you" I kinda laughed it off and I didn't really think about it again. When he beat me up and threw me out of his car in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain only to come back and get me 45 minutes later, my friend at work told me he was a "narcissist " but I still didn't know what that meant. In today's society everyone has a label label. Im bipolar and i have ptsd, so saying someone is a narcissist didn't really bother me. Fast forward about 4 years. He had completely taken over my life. He gave me my medication because he had if locked in a box so I couldn't get it or even see what hd was giving me. I couldn't see my children unless he was with me. I felt empty and alone, but a narcissist? Maybe? Was he a narcissist or was I for wanting to have things my way for a day or two. Was it his fault or mine for letting him say whatever, do whatever and still believe he loved me. Whose fault was it? I honestly didn't know!

4 notes - Posted December 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Being a survivor means getting past the pain and hurt to a point that you can help people who haven't made it to that point. Hope and faith brings a person closer to living happiness again and never looking back to what happened wanting to go back. Its help you push forward and start over weather you're alone or not. Being alone is not a bad thing sometimes it make you strong so that you can let the person who is supposed to be in you life walk in and show you what real is.

7 notes - Posted November 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[breesays]

WHATS THE TREAT

This is going to be a brain dump of sorts, because I’ve started writing like three blogs in the last 2 weeks but stress and sick and nothing sticks.

First of all, I know EXACTLY why I always forget about September as a whole (kind of like how I forget about Alabama as a state)--it’s because CULTURE AT LARGE freaks out about FALL at like midnight on August 31st. Honestly, it’s a more jarring shift than it is from new years eve to new years day. One day its summer, the next its chunky sweaters and pumpkin spice lattes. I think September needs its OWN identity, the lines are getting too blurred. If we start with pumpkin recipes NOW I am going to be BURNT by October, I’m telling you.

We’re also in a massive scorcher of a heatwave, so visions of popsicles and splash pads are still ripe in my mind.

I'm doing some things because I want to live until I'm 100 years old. One of those things is not drinking like I used to and the other is intermittent fasting. So drinks are not a reward food is not a reward, were looking at the big picture. But the last few weeks have been stressful - Tim has been traveling for work and Desmond is THREE. That's it, that's the sentence. My threenager becomes more clingy in his father's absence; throw in a couple illnesses (not COVID, but mystery fevers?) and he is EXTRA EXTRA clingy. Recently he's had tantrums over the following:

Me going pee before picking him up

The lack of chocolate in the car on a hot afternoon

The cat setting foot in his bathroom

Not being able to tear a perfect square of toilet paper

Four yoga blocks not being a good chair

Me putting on pants

Me not eating the other half of his banana

A block tower he built not staying that way "forever"

The cat looking at him from outside the bathroom while he's in the bath

Drinking water in his bottle not being "medium" enough

He had maybe four tantrums during his not at all terrible twos. On the day of writing this blog, it was four IN ONE DAY, starting at 5AM. You see those mommy reminders on IG being like "taking a shower is not self care" - YES I understand the bar has to be higher, but I would still like to TAKE ONE without my supposedly sleeping kid startling me from the other side of the shower curtain, demanding to "HOLD MY HAND"

At work there's a project in development whose premise feels... limiting. I'm excited about the MEDIUM but I'm snagging on the topic. I've been given more responsibilities since someone from our team left and it was something I enthusiastically gave AWAY nine years ago. Getting back into it feels clunky. I don’t have the contacts. I had my schmooze turned off. I like to show my work, and sometimes it feels like hours of searching and pitching with nothing to show. I'm grateful to have a few wonderful freelancers, but I fear having a few writers who kind of mindmeld with me makes me a less good editor for the rest. At least one of my shows, Setlist Insider, is off the ground. I LOVE doing the research for the series. 

I sort of forced myself into undue stress trying to change Des to a different, closer preschool. On paper, it was hundreds of dollars cheaper, provided hot lunch and was less than a mile away so better for the environment! I would get 45ish minutes of my day back. They had longer hours, and supposedly used an app to keep parents updated. But on our visit day there was a new kid who cried for the entire hour, asking to go home, without so much as a pat on the back for comfort. I came home and cried for an hour myself, then composed an email asking our current preschool to take us back. 

I started a meditation practice. It always seems fruitless to me. Like I said earlier, I like to show my work. This particular work is about unclenching my jaw.

[cruzrogue]

A redo. Cleaning up the story in A03.

Chapter 2 GoTh KiDs

“Hey man, we should hit that party. It’s going to be one of legends.”

Oliver glancing at an open notebook. He has some schoolwork to complete, “Nah, I have this essay due and I want to finish with getting all the references before the library closes.”

“Are you ill?”

“What?”

“You’re passing parties left and right. What the hell is happening?”

“Tommy, I have a 1.9 GPA and I need to bring it up. So, yea I’m going to work a little bit harder.”

“Since when do you care?”

Oliver shrugging, “I just do.”

“Damn the death princess really got under your skin.”

“She has a name.”

“Which you can’t provide buddy.”

No, he couldn’t and it makes him sigh. He met her last October and since then he’s been really keeping himself academically busy. He doesn’t shy going to parties. He's still a horny guy with needs. It’s just that he’s cut down on mindless drinking and illicit drugs.

Tommy walking from his room and back to keep his conversation going with his best friend. Not getting Oliver’s 180 turn in events. Snow is melting as Spring is here. Pointing out his excitement that soon girls wearing shorter delectable clothing is on the horizon. Watching his friend seemly pining over a dark haired with purple slivers over some pretty fair gorgeous skin that tastes like nothing he can peg. Consequently, he’s been told. Multiple times.

Oliver rolls his eyes at his friend’s instructions to let the fantasy of some hot Goth chic’s chains on him to break. To be free. Good thing he hasn’t mentioned what was mostly intoxicating in meeting this one-night wonder. Maybe he is just so out of it because it was her voice that did him in. She talked a lot and he knew her inspirations more than anything personal about her.

He asked her questions and she would gladly respond and then would nibble his neck which damn he missed. Her questions were simple and he always started with the automatic response until her eyes bore into his and he gave in to truthfulness. Those eyes of hers had him. Even when she wasn’t speaking, she could relay so much with her gaze. Really in a few hours he was able to bare more of himself to a complete stranger. It took one night and he is officially hooked. Mystery girl didn’t demand anything but she did expect a level of integrity. No one in his life demanded him to be himself. That is the reason he craves it. Wants it. Practically needs it.

“What if she graduating this year. You’ll never see her again.” He taunted Oliver.

“I don’t think so. She mentioned intermediate classes I think.”

“So, she’s about our age? Maybe younger. Not a junior like us?”

“Could be possible. Maybe even a sophomore. Though there are a lot of schools in this area, bro!”

“Yep, and lots a beautiful college gals. Can’t believe my best wing man isn’t gonna come out tonight.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I’ll just tell the ladies that you’re ill maybe they’ll have sympathy for ya next time they see you.”

Oliver rolls his eyes again at Tommy’s antics. Knowing his friend won’t let it go. He has banked on Oliver’s reputation for years. If Tommy did something wild, he’ll need to best it and vice versa in many ways. Oliver could get away with a lot more as his parents seemed to enable him while Malcom Merlyn, Tommy’s father was more stringent.

“Well, I’m off to get laid, see ya later loser.”

“Tommy.” Oliver says pushing aside the moveable desk and rises from his comfortable position on the lounge chair. He walks to a cabinet and opens it. Throwing a pack of condoms at Tommy. “Don’t forget this superstar.”

“Oh right. Don’t want the fishes to run upstream.”

“The world isn’t ready for a Tommy Jr.” Oliver declares at his buddy as Tommy walks out the door.

He hears a laugh and the comment back from his friend, “Would be the coolest kid ever.”

@@@@/arrow/@@@@/olicity/@@@@@@

Oliver stops at a coffee house he feels like he surely needs the caffeine. Looking at the large clock placed right behind the counter he can’t believe he spent two hours in the library writing down sources for his essay for his Political Science class.

He is thinking of reading a few chapters for his morning class this coming Monday. His is living the college dream. Oh God, if Tommy heard his thoughts, he would hear a handful of comments that he didn’t know who his best friend is anymore. Is it bad to change? He thought it was a good thing to want to do better.

He's heard the comments behind his back that he is losing his touch. He really didn’t care per se but he doesn’t think he is that different. He isn’t planning on ever peeing on a cop or anyone else again. That wasn’t a good night. Hell, he couldn’t remember it very well but those paparazzi had good shots of his bravado and senseless ways.

Boston really has cold winters and with spring weather in the Northeast it is finally the first week of May. It’s a tad chilly but it holds a breath of promising weather to come. Sitting drinking his hot frothy beverage a group of Goths pass by the window and it piques his interest. Looking at every girl checking if any held a resemblance to his queen.

“Hey buddy, what’s your problem?”

He shrugs at the group as they stare him down. He didn’t mean to get caught staring but he’ll chance it if seeing her again is the result.

“I was just seeing if I knew one of you, ladies.”

Two of the Goth girls stared at him for a split second. Leaving Oliver to wonder if it was a bad idea to even converse with this group. As one of them cracked a smile leaving the other girl to snarl.

One of the Goth boys said, “Yea, like you would know any Goth kids like us. Jocks like yourself and your polo shirts.”

Oliver looks down at his polo shirt and has to give the guy credit. Two different worlds between them. He doesn’t really know any Goths. Not that he’s actively interested in surrounding himself in that dark emo world. Yep, that makes him sound snobby but he isn’t one to adventure out.

“Well, you’re right.” Oliver looks at his table with enough chairs to host these five people. He’s been studying for so long any sort of companionship no matter how odd is favorable. After providing a short introduction of himself. He finally says, “You know what? My bad for staring. Let me get you guys some drinks.”

“Nah man, we’re good.”

“Hey speak for yourself, I’ll take a coffee, not like I have the funds.” a fiery red head verbalizes, as her boobs are almost blasting out of her netted top. She has a rocking body. Oliver does admit she is hot but all those face piercings just doesn’t do it for him.

Therefore, this is how he is hosting a Goth meet and greet. Three females that are out of his league and the two males that seem to wonder if he is trying to steal one of the girls.

It starts off awkward but Oliver being the odd man out decides to give this a try. He knows he is charming. Just needing to let go of some stereotypical conversations and to find his expressive dramatic side. Oliver can so do this. Finding a favorable balance and to go with the flow.

The first question he gets is one that has his own best friend asking him a few times. Basically, calling him out. On how weird he is being. Hearing it from a girl that he’s only just met is surreal.

“So, you’re all alone on a Saturday night? What gives?”

“Have stuff due on a few classes.”

“It’s Saturday, you’re telling me you would rather be booked up and not out find willing girls?”

“I’m telling you I’m out studying so I don’t fail my classes.”

The girl wearing a very large pendent nods her head as she finishes responding, “Gotchya, your penance for too much partying.”

“I guess.”

With the end of a quick chat, it gets the rest of the group to step into the conversation.

“See this peppy boy got his priorities.”

“Better than being a weird stalker pep boy.”

“What?” Oliver looks offended.

“Statistics don’t lie.” Another one of them unreservedly suggests.

“I don’t think… um what’s your name again?” The girl with very puffy clothed shoulder pads says with her hands towards him in a fake gesture of annoyance.

“Ollie.”

“Ollie here, needs to know this shit.” Giving him a sympathetic look afterwards.

“Hey it statistical proven that white males are perpetuators of some weird crimes.”

“You guys do know that we’re all white.” One of them finally says.

“Yes, but we are enlightened.”

@@@@/arrow/@@@@/olicity/@@@@@@

Oliver is in a deep discussion with two of the group members as they have been there for some time and they all seem to be enjoying themselves. He doesn’t see Tommy with Devon and a few classic beauty girls entering the shop.

It just takes a moment.

“Oh my God! Is that Ollie?”

Tommy eyeballs the table and spots his childhood friend laughing at whatever some male Goth is saying. Excusing himself, “Be right back.”

Tommy slides behind some loose benches and it catches Oliver’s attention.

“Hey Tommy.”

“I thought you said you were going to study and stuff.”

“I did I’m just taking a break.”

Looking at the group as they are also scoping him out.

“New friends of yours?”

“We met.” Oliver looks at the clock. “Wow! It’s been a little more than two hours. Guess time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Any luck?”

Oliver takes a moment to ponder the question until he figures what his friend is asking.

“What do you mean by luck?” one of the girls asks

“He’s in love with a Goth girl he met last October.” Tommy supplies the answer.

The quietest female in the group says, “That is so sweet, see I told you guys he didn’t look like a creeper.”

“Um thanks Anabelle that’s so nice of you to say.” Oliver says teasing.

Tommy hears his name being mentioned by one of his pack of girls and he looks at Oliver. “I was going to head to our apartment. Have a little party. You want to join?”

“I’ll meet up later. Kris and I aren’t finished talking about the Renaissance period art at the MFA’s newest exhibit.”

“Okay?!?” Tommy walks backwards and adds, “See ya later then.” And gives Oliver the weirdest look.

Oliver nods and goes right back to engaging in a conversation he was actually enjoying.

@@@@/arrow/@@@@/olicity/@@@@@@

Felicity lays on her bed and sighs as she read the newest pamphlet. She hasn’t seen her mom since Hanukkah and at that time she didn’t even know she was pregnant. Keeping her mom in the dark is hard and she knows it’s quite wrong but deciding to give up the baby. It is an agonizing decision. Though in telling herself that if her mom doesn’t know. She’ll be free of some drama. If she doesn’t have her mother’s disapproval of her actions in getting knocked up. She’ll also not have a mother who could remind her of this failure. Maybe just maybe it won’t feel so real.

Meeting the future parents of her son earlier in the week has been tough but yet comforting. They seem so nice. Getting to know this couple helps Felicity know how her baby will be raised. Her son’s future mom, Carol has one sibling and both of her parents are alive. Carol’s husband Michael lost his brother leaving him to be the last one from his family lineage.

Carol and Michael Jacobs are very passionate people. They have been trying to get pregnant for a long time. Four years ago, they moved to the Boston Metro Area and decided to look into adoption. After various family service channels this is how Felicity got to meet them. Knowing her baby will go to a loving home has lessen some of the anxiety. The Jacobs even had her break a tie for baby names. It was either to be Arron or Kyle. Recalling how Michael smiled as he said in affirmation the name out loud. The man so proud as the words left his lips.

Felicity knows he will be a good father. Her baby would have a father. Something she could not give her boy. Listening to the stories of important names that have great meaning to the couple. Felicity chose Kyle. The smiles on the parents-to-be were both a blessing and a curse. The child would have Carol’s father’s first name and Michael’s deceased brother’s name.

Kyle Oliver Jacobs.

Talking about family. That when the session with the Jacobs is over. It leaves Felicity to picture some what ifs. She wonders what the father of her son is doing. Her mind wonders to him a lot and further into her pregnancy she tries to imagine what a mix of their attributes will look like.

Those intense mesmerizing blue eyes of his. Felicity wishes to again be able to look and get lost in them. If he was in the picture, would he push to keep their baby? Tell her that the adoption route is a good one? Would he willing walk away? If they are to meet in the future and the truth were to comes out. Would he forgive her?

She has no idea why she has a yearning to know what his stance on this baby is. She surely doesn’t want to romanticize any notions of grandeur on his part. A deep sated wish to at least know he’d be saddened to see another couple raise his baby. Perhaps it would comfort her now.

With her roommate out longer than usually she starts to clean. Keeping herself busy has been an ongoing motto it helps to not think of the emptiness she feels.

In a few weeks Felicity hopes they at least they’ll let her hold Kyle for a bit. Having the strength to go through with this is wavering at times. She loves him so much. Meeting him will be beyond emotional. Yet she knows deep in her heart she can’t give the quality of life that the Jacobs can. It leaves her to ugly cry onto her pillow.

@@@@/arrow/@@@@/olicity/@@@@@@

Oliver is walking Anabelle to her dorm at MIT as they kind of have hit it off since she started to open up a little more. Knowing she was the quiet one of her intense group. She offered to give him a book that helped her last semester on a class he is taking this semester.

Entering the dorm room Anabelle shares. The girl is surprised that her roommate is not here.

“Oh, kind of strange my roommate’s not here. She hasn’t left the room since becoming whale sized literally overnight.”

“Whale sized?” he inquires

“Yea, she looks like she's been forever pregnant, poor thing.” She does an outline to show him but he thinks she’s overly exaggerating the size.

“Oh, that sucks.”

Anabelle nods as she looks for the book. “You know?”

“What?”

“Somewhat like how you talk about your dream girl. My roomy talks about her daddy-o all the time.”

“Daddy-o?”

“Sperm donor more like it.”

“Oh, that’s awful.”

“It sure is. She’s been a mess since deciding to give the baby up. Though I think she is so bad-ass. She’s super smart, freakn sweet, and man she can accomplish so much and she’s just a sixteen-year-old freshman.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yea, I know right.”

He laughs at her hysterical theatrical waltz as she looks for the book and how much she goes on that she is so not ready to even consider a baby any time in her future.

Finding it finally under a pile of other books, “So here is that book.”

“Thank you.” He says earnestly.

“You are totally welcome.”

Oliver goes to kiss her cheek and she turns and their lips graze. He goes in a second time to actually kiss her. Their lips meet and Annabelle nips his little mole near the bottom of his lip. Going in for another kiss is when he’s reminded of his queen as a glance within the room locates some boots by the closet.

Pulling away, “I really can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just feel like I’m cheating.”

“You don’t even know her name.”

“It’s weird I know but I just feel like wherever she is where I belong.”

She understands that. It is why she took a liking to him. He is packaged like a mouthwatering model and dresses a little too preppy for her taste but he has a heart of gold.

“Thanks for walking me home.”

“Not a problem. Thanks for this.” He tapping the book. “I bet it will help me come finals.”

“Goodnight Oliver.”

“Night Belle.”

Her mind is numb after internally screaming as she was taken away from her dorm in a stretcher. It is too early and yet the baby is coming and coming very quickly.

“Okay breathe Felicity, you are doing great.”

Felicity grips the sheet as hard as she can.

“One more push…”

Preppy Gothic Love redo... (will be posting over) chapter 2 in A03.

Once the whole story is rewritten.

[solarwonux]

prince!wonwoo x witch!reader 

w.c: 4.3k (I almost made it 5k but I stopped myself) 

warnings: murder, death, alcohol, tarot cards, running away, witchy things if you squint, angst, smut, ropes. 

note: special special thanks to my baby @starlightshua she named this beauty lmao. I re wrote this story so many times, literally the first draft of this was nothing like this and then I woke up at 5am today and rewrote the entire thing. I’m pretty proud so I hope you enjoy it. Also let me know if you want more of this, I have some ideas. Enjoy.x

Wonwoo pushes the tavern door open a little too hard. It hits the brick wall behind it, the sound erupting through the wasted and nearly wasted bodies that occupied the space. He doesn’t care, he needs a drink or many of them for that matter so he walks letting the door rattle obnoxiously behind him. The people eyeing him down like he just murdered their first born and not interrupted their nightly escapades.

He reaches the bar taking the worn out stool at the end and taps his fingers against the wooden counter. He was a regular and sadly had gotten used to the mustiness that was etched into the walls of the place and yet he still felt out of place.

“What does our royal guest of honor want tonight?” Mingyu rapped his fingers drumming in front of Wonwoo, grabbing his attention.

“Not royal, but bourbon please.”

Ever since he ran away from his Royal duties and somehow ended up in a tavern that existed harmoniously to bring two worlds together. Wonwoo had seen and witnessed things he had only grown up hearing during his mother’s bedtime stories. A secret language they shared when hidden behind the comfort of his bedroom. Away from the torturous hands of the King.

“As you wish your majesty.” Mingyu’s sarcastic drawl took him out of the spiral inside his head. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously as he watched Mingyu throw his head back in laughter, his fangs catching in the reflection of the dim light causing a chill to roll up his spine. “You’re so uptight tonight, relax a little Prince Charming.” He winked at Wonwoo before turning around and walking away from him.

No matter how hard he tried to leave the life he had behind, everyone here in this tavern that belonged neither here nor there, loved to remind him that he still had the king’s royal blood coursing through his veins. Usually, he didn’t mind, sometimes he would play into the character when he was drunk enough to earn a few laughs. But tonight on the final night of October, he didn’t want to be reminded of his true identity.

On Hallows Eve, three years ago his life had gone south. He was set to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom and he couldn’t wait to meet her during the annual ball. He had woken up that morning with a jolt and skipped a step as he made his way to his mother and father’s private chamber. When he arrived, his heart, in his throat. He found his father the charming King beloved by his people with his hands around his mother’s throat and a murderous glimmer behind his soft eyes while she slowly turned a rough shade of blue.

Wonwoo felt his world crash onto the ground. his father didn’t stop no matter how hard he pleaded for him too. His tears fell onto the palace grounds creating tsunami’s as he witnessed his mother take her last breath.

He ran, ran to where his feet could carry him. Packed up anything that could fit in the tiny knapsack he used whenever he went to explore the forest behind the palace. And left, leaving behind the life he had only ever known.

He traveled for three days on foot without food nor rest, before he came across the tavern that smelled more like rotten feet than whiskey. He met Mingyu, who had recognized him right away and gave him the tavern’s royal treatment. Food, water and the rickety old room just above the tavern.

“It’s not satin or velvet or whatever you guys use over there, but it’s enough for you to sleep. Just pay me back by working here every odd day of the week.” Mingyu said, clapping his shoulder and leaving him behind to deal with his new reality.

That night was the night he was able to mourn his mother’s death and his own one as well. The king had come out publicly with fake tears in his eyes to say that his wife and his second born son had fallen ill to an illness and that when the royal physicians realized it, it had been too late. Though, everyone in the tavern knew the truth and he found comfort knowing that they hated the king just as much as he did.

“Penny for your thoughts my prince.” The angelic voice he had grown to love so much took him out of his thoughts. He lived in his head too much and he was thankful he had you —a witch he had met during one of his shifts over a year ago, to ground him back down onto Earth.

“Don’t call me that.” He smiled and grabbed hold of your hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed it lightly keeping his eyes on yours as they burned holes of fire into them. You tensed up feeling the heat run up your body. It was laughable. You, a witch who could make anyone succumb and fall at her feet, was letting a runway prince pursue her and turn her into mush at his feet.

“You liked it when I said in bed once.”

“That was one time, princess.” He winked, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed. Your body reacted amorously to him and each time it bubbled an emotion deep inside of him that he wasn’t sure what it was. It scared him and excited him all at the same time.

Wonwoo stopped believing in love three years ago but every time you were nearby. He believed that he could again.

“One to many times Wonwoo.” You toyed as you took the empty seat next to him. Your hand still entrapped in his and you weren’t planning on letting go any time soon.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and placed Wonwoo’s drink in front of him, “Wonwoo has a prince kink?.” He mumbled his voice laced with disgust. “I should’ve known.” and leaned against the wooden table, shooting daggers at Wonwoo.

“Not a kink if that’s what he is Gyu.”

Wonwoo didn’t care that he still had royal blood in him, because whenever he found himself laughing at Mingyu’s poor attempts to flirt with nymphs. Or your presence next to him he forgot that he did. He wondered if his mother had led him here to this repulsive tavern in order to meet the two of you.

Although Wonwoo knew you were perfectly capable at defending yourself. He loved walking you home.

The two of you trailed down the dirt path hand in hand; chasing the blue light of the moon. Comfortable silence erupting between your bodies. Wonwoo never felt more at home then now.

“So what’s a witch like you doing with a commoner like me on Hallow’s Eve.” Wonwoo glanced at you his eyes sparkling like they held a million galaxies and you found yourself wanting to get lost in them. “Don’t you have rituals or cards to read, aren’t you the most powerful underneath a blue moon.” He edged on making you smile.

“Are you saying you want your cards read again?” You bumped your shoulder against his. His grip on your hand falters making you giggle.

Wonwoo’s eyes grew wider than the moon as he remembered the night you read his cards to him for the first time a few weeks ago and he blushed. “Last time you read my cards I ended tied up.”

“Well that’s cause you picked my sex deck Wonwoo, we’ve been over this.” You stopped walking and leaned up to kiss his cheek, leaving a plum lipstick mark behind. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You whispered in his ear.

Wonwoo swallowed hard at your taunting tone. He knew you were right and he hated it. If you had asked him with that infamous bat of your eyelashes he would’ve done it again. “For once angel I want to see you tied up.” He blurted out, his cheeks turning a rough shade of red as he processed what he had said after he had said.

“Okay, but you’re going to have to catch me first.”

“Catch you, what a—.”

Before Wonwoo could finish his sentence you took off running. Wonwoo threw his head back in disbelief, his body coursing with exhaustion for a brief second before he took off as well. This is what he loved most, the adrenaline rush you brought to him. Although sometimes he thought you were too much he wouldn’t trade the moments he spent with you for anything in the world. Not even for his mother’s life and you had offered a few times, but he refused because with you he felt complete.

Your laughter rang through the howling branches of the trees surrounding the two of you. Wonwoo’s body felt like it was floating as he chased after you, the cool night air hitting his face as he ran with everything in him. It reminded him of the times he spent at the palace gardens chasing after his older brother, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears as she joined in halfway. It was these moments where he was the most carefree, that reminded him of his mother. That made him miss her with everything in his being. It was moments like these where the anger and resentment towards his father would surface and he wished he hadn’t had run away that day. But this was different because for the first time in his life he was running towards someone, a goal.

“Maybe you don’t want it enough Wonwoo. Are you even trying?” You teased, he could tell he was close from how loud your voice sounded. It only gave him motivation to run faster, so he did.

You faded into view, it felt like he was seeing you for the first time in his life. You were leaning against a tree, arms cockily crossed in front of you, waiting. He let his feet carry him like the wind around him and soon he was crashing into you like an ocean wave. You laughed silently. The impact, knocking the air out of your lungs making you feel lighter than a cloud.

Almost as if by instinct Wonwoo’s arms found their way around your body, his face morphing into one of concern. He didn’t mean to crash into you as hard as he did or at all, but sometimes when he was with you his body acted as if it were unattached to his brain. “I’m sorry are you okay?” He placed his fingers underneath your chin lifting your head up so your watery eyes locked with his.

You planted your hands on his chest, balling your fist wrinkling his starch white button down and nodded. “With-- y-you I’m always okay.” You gasped and closed the distance. Your lips were on his faster than he could blink and he felt himself melt.

In fairytales silver and water were a witches ' kryptonite. In this life you were Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo didn’t win but he should’ve known you were going to give in to his desires. Despite your sneaky ways he knew he could always trust you but still it had caught him off guard when you had given him the onyx ropes upon entering your small cottage.

“You wanted to tie me up right? Now’s your chance.” The amount of trust that laid behind your eyes was overwhelming. And no one, not even his mother, had trusted him like you did.

He placed the ropes down on your old wooden bed and kissed you with everything in him.

When his mother would tell him the damsel in distress stories during bed time. She always described the ending kiss as if it were the most magical thing in the universe, with fireworks exploding and butterflies running mayhem in pits of stomachs. But you weren’t a damsel in distress and his mother’s description of a true love’s kiss didn’t do this kiss justice.

Wonwoo very much felt like he was thrown in the middle of space and was now dumbly floating around. His body felt lighter than air, but heavy at the same time. He didn’t feel fireworks nor the butterflies but he did feel the adrenaline dip in the mouth of his stomach and the strikes of lightning that raced through his veins. He felt brand new, and he was ready to give himself to you, just like he had many nights before but this time it felt different, important and special.

Maybe Wonwoo was finally releasing the lock he had around his heart, but if he didn’t know any better--and he didn’t. He was positive that what he was feeling for you in this moment of vulnerability was love.

“I want to take my time.” He whispered against your lips as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I want to be with you forever but I don’t know how.” He crushed the hem of your silk black shirt between his fingers. Your hands stopped their movements and you pulled away. They wandered up to his cheek, your index finger playing with the tiny sunspots that only you were able to see. He looked so small and scared and you were sure you mirrored his same expression because the grip he had on your shirt got tighter.

You had been in love once. Many lifetimes ago and they had been taken from you because of what you were. You promised yourself you would never love again and you spent years alone, until you found yourself in the odd old tavern.

For as long as you lived in the old supernatural town, you never once paid attention to that old tavern. Until one night during blue moon much like the one tonight, a little over a year ago you found yourself drawn to it. Your feet carried you there by themselves, your mind on autopilot and before you knew you were sitting in front of the bar, looking at a curious boy that resembled the prince you grew up hating, but that was impossible because he had been dead for years.

To your surprise he was the prince and he had spilled two strawberry margaritas on you ruining your new favorite shirt. You cursed him out, wondering why he wasn’t deader than dead as he apologized. He dropped everything before taking your hand in his and leading you up the rickety old stairs that led to the room above. Without a word he tore his poor excuse of a room apart until he found you a clean shirt and you put it on not after pushing him out of the room for some privacy.

If you had known that you would still keep that same shirt hidden deep in your closet you would’ve laughed because that was the first night you started to fall for him and every passing moment you were with him felt like you were being reborn again. Like a part of you didn’t die behind the flames of the burning fire as you watched your lover yell out for his life. That memory was buried deep in your mind and you had never told Wonwoo in fear that he would look at you differently. Like you weren’t his lifeline anymore, so, you kept it locked away inside of your heart just like the love you felt for him. One day you would tell him just not tonight. Tonight you wanted to keep your secret and instead be with him in every way possible.

“Take your time but tonight make me yours please.”

Wonwoo didn’t tie the ropes hard enough and it made you laugh at his shaking hands as they traveled down your flushed out body. You had assured him that you had suffered through worse than the burning of ropes against your skin. But he paid no attention to your statement as he finished his second and final loop on your bedpost.

He kissed his way down your body slowly, giving extra love the parts he knew would have you unraveling in no time.

This was one of the things you loved most about him, instead of getting what he wanted and leaving. He took his time getting to know your wants and needs. You’ve had many lovers in the past and none of them had felt nor treated you the way Wonwoo did.

With love.

“You feel so warm already.” He whispered against the skin of your stomach, slowly getting closer to where you wanted him most. His hands squeezed your thigh and prided them open as he kissed his way further down, hovering his mouth against your clothed core.

You whimpered, tugging at his roots in attempts to bring him closer, “Please Wonwoo please.” You let out an exasperated breath. “I need you close.”

Wonwoo smirked leaving an open mouthed kiss against your core, savoring your honeyduke sweetness that seeped through your panties. Your grip on his hair got tighter as he continued to tease you. Kissing you and humming like he was tasting his last meal. He lapped up once more groaning before hooking his thumbs against the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, sitting down on his knees and throwing them somewhere in your room, joining your already discarded clothes.

The coolness of the wind coming in from your open window made the goosebumps rise against your soft skin. Wonwoo sucked in a breath as he took in how wet you were and for him.

No matter how many times he found himself in this position, your body's reaction to him always left him floored. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” You joked, placing your leg against his shoulder and pulling him down towards you again. Catching him off guard, just like you always did.

“One day I will and then I won’t stop and by the end of it all, I’ll have my own private collection.” He winked laying down in between your legs again. He kissed up your thighs alternating between the two, taking his sweet time like he always did.

“I bet you’d like that...f-fuck.” Wonwoo lapped up your entrance and wrapped his perfect lips around your clit. He closed his eyes savoring your taste, his blunt nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

“Y-Your mouth was—ahh, your mouth was made from the h-heavens.” You arched your back, pushing his head closer with your legs entrapping him. Your hands grabbing on the ropes as you felt your orgasm approach.

A throaty groan fell out of his mouth, sending the vibration up your clit and through your body. The knot in your stomach starting to get tighter. Wonwoo’s index and middle finger swirls around in your pussy. Bathing in the wetness before he slowly inserts them. He always knew you were warm inside but today it felt like you were on fire and he couldn’t wait to devour you further.

He hums happily pulling away and sits up, your leg falling from his shoulder making you whine at the loss of his mouth. “Patience baby I’ll give you everything you want tonight.” He assures before pushing his fingers in even further, your heat entrapping him.

“Ah, f-fuck this feels better than my charms.

“You have sex charms?” He poses curiously. You were a book full of fairytales and he couldn’t wait to read you front in back until the last day of his life.

“I have charms for a lot of things.” You throw your head back in pleasure as he lets his fingers take control. “I-I can show them to you one day.” You let out a breath as you felt your orgasm nearing.

“Why not now?” He brought his thumb onto your clit and started rubbing figure eights circumoniously, while his fingers pistoned into you. If anyone were to ask him what his favorite pastime was he would cheekily answer that it was you falling apart because of him.

“Don’t need them...you make me cum.” You arched your back and pulled on your ropes as your orgasm flooded over you. You moaned Wonwoo’s name like an old incantation in your book of spells as he continued to help you ride out your orgasm.

You always looked beautiful to Wonwoo, like a goddess or an angel sent from above. But the way you looked when you fell apart underneath him, was breathtaking and he wanted to remember it forever.

“Did that feel good?” He takes his fingers out, his palm rubbing soothing circles against your thigh as he brings them up to his lips. Your spent pussy clenched over nothing as you watched him, eyes locked with yours savoring you.

You nod, “It was orgasmic.” You joked. Your weak attempt of a pun makes him laugh. You freed yourself from his poor attempt at binding you to the bed and sat up. Wonwoo watched you dreamily as you wrapped your arms around his neck planting a soft kiss to his wet lips.

“Make me cum again my prince.”

“I’ll make you cum until first light.”

Wonwoo kept true to his word, pulling four more orgasms from you. Each one more intense than the other and you found yourself craving for more, but he had stopped sensing your exhaustion.

He had been right earlier that night in the forest. You were strongest on Hallows Eve and underneath a blue moon, but when it came to Wonwoo you were weak. You didn’t mind it because it was to someone who would without a doubt catch you if you fell hard.

You had read it in his cards the first and only time you drew them for him. You didn’t voice it because his face when you had exposed his kinks was priceless. And because you feared that if you did you would lose him before you could tell him how you felt about him. You weren’t sure when you would but if he kept looking at you and holding you like you were his entire universe. You would without a doubt forget your fears and confess.

“I love you.” Wonwoo’s eyes got wide as he brought his hands up to his mouth covering it. “Sorry I—I fuck I-“

“I love you.” You copied his actions. The two of you letting the silence overcome your ragged breaths. Until he laughed, making you laugh as well. You grabbed his hand and brought it close to your body.

It was unbelievable how afraid the two of you had been when the two of you had unknowingly fallen for each other long ago. Wonwoo sat up on his elbows and moved so he was hovering over you again. “I’ve never once loved, and I’m sure I love you more than anything in this world.” He pecked your lips repeatedly before laying half of his body on yours carefully and putting his head against your chest humming happily.

“I once loved but I didn’t love them the way I love you Wonwoo.”

“That must mean I’m special princess.”

You rolled your eyes, your hands coming up to his shoulders and kneading out the tension that had formed over years of unnecessary stress. “Not a princess...but you’re more than special.”

“In my eyes you’ll always be my princess.” He left a chaste kiss against your collar bone. “But you’re more than special to me too baby, and since we’ve established that can you tell me what’s been bothering you all night.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, why are you asking?”

“You didn’t drink tonight and back when we were walking home you were spaced out half of the time.” He traced a finger up your side teasingly.

You sighed and stopped massaging his shoulders. He was right you had been distracted for half the night wondering how you should tell him the last secret you had. This one you couldn’t keep hidden away because it involved him and his biggest heartbreak.

“I drew a card from my deck this morning.”

He hummed and lifted his head, his eyebrows knitting together, “What was it, anything bad?”

You bit your lip, knitting your fingers into his hair. “The Empress, sometimes I read her as a fertility card an-“

“You’re pregnant?” Wonwoo sat up, your hand falling onto his chest. You giggled, shaking your head profusely. Your contraception charms were safer than any kind of contraception out there.

“God no Wonwoo, not now, but you told me your mom loved peonies right?”

“Yeah, the palace was always filled with them.”

“Okay well for days I’ve been seeing peonies pop up randomly around this place and I just thought it was a coincidence. When I drew my card this morning, The Empress was surrounded by peonies, but I really didn’t think anything of it. When I entered the tavern last night there were peonies in the flowerbed growing. And now that I think about it they were there too the night I met you.”

“What are you saying, that my mom is here somehow?” His voice was filled with hope and you tried hard not to cringe at the sound. The thought had crossed your mind a few times but you always had to remember that even though the supernatural existed peacefully in this world. That rule didn’t apply to the dead, they had strict rules on their side of the realm. If his mom was making an attempt to contact him he was sacrificing her chances at reincarnation.

“I’m saying that maybe your mom didn’t tell you who she really was.”

“Are you saying she was a witch like you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt comfort. Everything about his childhood made sense. The random peonies that would appear in the garden during the mid of winter. The stories that didn’t feel like stories but more like memories. And her sudden death. He wasn’t sure if his father had known or if he had found out that morning, but whatever the case was he was positive that she had sent you to him. His greatest and last gift to him from her and had never felt more at peace.

“Yes.”

[forgedroyalseal]

Small and Annoying (and adorable)

When Will read the letter he had received from Halt, he tried not to panic. He was moderately successful. The letter was vague, which Will hoped was merely Halt being Halt and not because of some terrible circumstance that was preventing him from going into to further detail. What the “terrible circumstance” could be, Will wasn’t sure. Something absolutely dreadful though. Perhaps Halt was ill, too weak to write more. Or maybe he was being held captive and wasn’t allowed the time to explain. Will ran his hand through his hair as he reread the letter, trying to reassure himself that he was getting ahead of himself.

Will,

I need your help. I have a problem that only you can solve. Come as soon as possible.

Halt

Rereading the brief letter did not help. Will folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket as he stood from his kitchen table, the rest of his mail unopened and abandon in a pile. He grabbed his cloak, which was hanging on a hook by the door and turned to Ebony, who had lifted her head up from the floor to watch Will, waiting to see if he needed her.

“Stay here and be a good girl, I’m going to check on Halt.” He said to her. She seemed happy with this decision, her head thudding against the floor as she lowered it and her paws stretching out towards the small fire Will had lit earlier in afternoon. Normally she was eager to accompany Will wherever he went, even softly whining to herself if he told her she wasn’t allowed to go. Today, however, was a cold, wet October day, and she was quite content with letting Will make this particular trip without her.

Tug on the other hand didn’t seem effected by the miserable weather. Or perhaps he just knew that when he and Will returned home, he would be able to guilt Will into giving him an extra apple. Whatever the case was, Tug carried Will quickly to castle Redmont, only slowing down to avoid crashing into the few towns people that were milling about the town square. Will dismounted Tug and lead him over to the shelter of the stables. He loosed the saddle but didn’t fully untack Tug. He wasn’t sure what Halt needed him for and wanted to be ready for anything. He gave Tug an apple from a basket outside of the stall. Will looked around and caught the eye of a boy holding a rake and staring at him wide eyed.

“Please leave the saddle on him and make sure he has water.”

The boy bobbed his head up and down, still a little star stuck. Must be new, Will thought. He can’t help but notice the amount of people who stare at him when he is in town, trying (and failing) to be discreet as they point him out to their friends. But this is still where he grew up. It’s where he ran around as a little boy, it’s where he was trained as an apprentice, it’s his home. So, while he was honored and respected, people didn’t tend to get this shocked by the sight of him.

“Thank you.” Will said, giving him a half smile. Then he turned and started to make his way to Halt’s apartment. He had taken more time than he meant to in the stables, but Will had been trained to make sure that he always took care of Tug. And if this wasn’t a life threatening emergency, which Will still wasn’t completely convinced it wasn’t, then Halt would be irritated if he had learned that Will had neglected Tug due to his paranoia.

When Will arrived in front of Halt and Pauline’s door, he had a list of horrible possibilities running through his mind. After taking a breath to steady himself, Will knocked firmly. Lady Pauline opened it, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“Will, what a pleasant surprise, please come in.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows, “Surprise? Halt asked me to come. Did he not mention it to you?”

Pauline opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, Halt stepped into the room and said, “No I did not.”

Will and Pauline both turned to look at him. Seeing that Halt was unharmed and didn’t seem to be in any distress, the tension in Will’s shoulders left and he relaxed.

“What do you need from me Halt?” Will asked, the worry that had been occupying his mind being replaced with curiosity.

Halt glanced at his wife, “Perhaps it would be better to discuss this in the study.”

“Why, is it about a mission? I didn’t hear anything from Crowley.” Will said.

“No, this isn’t Ranger business.” Halt trailed off.

“Oh good lord! Halt, is this about the dog?” Pauline exclaimed.

Will perked up, “Dog? What dog? Is there a dog?” He started looking around, as if he expected to suddenly see a dog on the floor that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Now look what you’ve done Pauline, he’s all worked up.” Halt sighed.

“I can’t believe that you made him come over in such a rush for this.” Pauline said, an exasperated look on her face.

“I didn’t make him do anything. He just respects me so much that he felt the need to hurry.”

Will stopped his search for the dog that Pauline mentioned to say, “You told me to come as soon as possible. I thought you were dying.”

“Well now you are just being dramatic.” Halt grumbled.

“So what is it then that you need my help with?” Will asked.

“I have a... situation that I need your advice on.”

“And there is a dog involved?” Will prodded, hoping the answer was yes.

“The dog is the situation. There’s this stray that won’t leave me alone. I need you to tell me how to get rid of it. You’re good with dogs.”

Will tried not to laugh. Apparently he’s not very successful because Halt says, “It’s not funny. I can’t walk outside without it following me. Every time I think I’m in the clear, it shows up behind me. The thing is a better tracker than half the ranger’s I know.” Halt’s face was dead serious, which made the whole thing even funnier to Will.

“I don’t really see the issue Halt. The dog likes you. You should be happy.”

“It’s a nuisance. I’ll prove it to you.” Halt walks out the door and Will follows him. They make it barely three steps outside before they hear a small yip. Will and Halt both turn around to see a small, black and tan terrier behind them, shaking slightly in the cold but happily wagging it’s little tail none the less.

Halt gestures to the dog, “Now you see what I’m talking about! It a little terror.”

Will crouches down and lets the shaggy dog sniff his hand. Immediately the dog rolls down on to it’s back and Will starts rubbing it’s belly.

“Oh I see it Halt. He’s clearly a monster. How have you managed to survive all this?” Will says sarcastically. Halt only rolls his eyes in response.

Will looks up at Halt, “Seriously though, why is this dog such a problem for you?”

“It’s small and annoying, two things you have in common with it.”

Will just stares up at Halt, his head now tilted slightly to the side. The dog sits up and Halt has a sudden realization. Will and the dog have the exact same expression on their faces. Heads both tilted to the right, big brown eyes looking up at him. Halt sighed, he’d never be able to not see the similarities now.

“You know Halt,” Will said as he stood, “if the dog wants to be with you so much, maybe you should just take him home with you. After all, you are pretty good with orphans.” Will had a soft smile on his face and it occurs to Halt that he never should have let Will see the dog because there was no way he would let Halt do anything other than bring it back to the apartment.

“Absolutely not. I’ve done my time with raising small, excitable things. At least you and Gilan were somewhat house trained.”

Will bends down and scoops the dog into his arms. “Maybe you’re right Halt. You are getting on in years. You probably don’t have the energy to care for him. After all, you are practically retired and a dog would just interrupt all of those midday naps.”

Halt narrowed his eyes. It was a trap. Halt knew it was a trap. He shouldn’t let himself be manipulated by his former apprentice. “I have plenty of energy. I could raise twenty dogs if I wanted too.” So much for not being manipulated.

Will grinned widely and Halt knew that he had lost. “Well then, this one little dog won’t be any problem, will it?”

Halt sighed and closed his eyes. Realistically he knew that if he truly didn’t want the dog, Will couldn’t force him to keep it. But there was a small (or not so small) part of him that missed having someone to take care of. Pauline was wonderful, but she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. This little scrap of a dog reminded Halt so much of Will when they first met, too small and too alone to be able to be left behind.

“Only if Pauline says it’s okay.”

(Pauline, of course, said yes. She knew that there was no way Will would let Halt come home without the dog. She even set up a basket with a couple old blankets next to Halt’s favorite chair as soon as they had left.)

[shoichee]

Lucky Bucket

Midorima x Reader

Word Count: 2686

Submission for @knb-kreations‘s All Hallows’ Eve event!

Prompt: black cat

»»—————　☼　—————««

Midorima hated Halloween.

Why would anyone celebrate the day that is especially infamous for terrible misfortune and ominous superstitions?

Scratch that—why in god’s name does October have to exist?

He swore that every step he took provoked different unsettling breezes that whispered various taunts of a series of unfortunate events for Cancers like him.

He even tried to convince Captain Miyaji to bail out of practice for the month out of fear for his “safety and wellbeing,” promising to practice in the sanctuary of his own backyard to compensate.

“What the fuck are you on about?” the said Captain glowered, his patience visibly thinning on his face. “If this is about your horoscopes again, I’m not hearing about that shit again. Winter Cup is around the corner, and you still think you’ll get special treatment just because you’re one of the Generation of Miracles?”

“Sh-shin-chan, I think this is the time for you to run—”

“Takao. This is none of your—”

“5 extra laps around the campus.”

---------

“You 1st-years are really pushing your luck, huh,” Kimura deadpanned, slightly huffing to catch his breath after doing the extra laps.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, Shin-chan.”

“I knew it—the horoscopes predicted that the majority of the signs would experience subpar luck today, nanodayo.”

“IT WASN’T THE PREDICTIONS THAT LED US HERE, IT WAS YOU!”

“Absolute nonsense. Why would I intentionally wish ill luck onto my teammates?”

“...”

“...”

“Can I throw my family’s pineapples at him?”

“... Maybe it’ll be better for all of our sakes if you’re out of practices just for this month.”

“That’s what I tried to tell the Captain, Otsubo-san,” Midorima sighed, disregarding the stupefying stares his teammates were giving him. “But he would not hear me out.”

“You’re such an impossible person to deal with. Takao, how are you even friends with him?—”

“I am not friends with Takao.”

“Shin-chan is just like an onion with many layers, y’see?” Takao lightly chuckles, evident that he was still short of breath from the sprinting. “I mean if anything, I wonder what (y/n)-chan sees in him.”

“Th-that is none of your business!”

“Awwwww, is Shin-chan being shy?”

“Cease this foolishness at once!”

“Oh hi, (y/n)-chan!”

“Wha—?” At the speed of Aomine’s agility, Midorima whirled around… to see nobody. Right on cue, Takao starts to struggle to hold back an unfiltered guffaw, and his other teammates had their own poor efforts of suppressing their own snickers at his moment of gullibility.

Midorima could feel his veins about to burst at his temples.

“Takao.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was too good to pass up!—oh? (y/n)—?”

“Are you daft? I’m not going to fall for that again, nanodayo.”

“Fall for who, me?”

At the sound of your voice taking on an irritatingly familiar teasing tone, Midorima reluctantly swerved his head to meet your eyes. He quickly turns his attention away back to Takao in front of him.

“Was this your game all along?” Midorima narrows his eyes.

“What? No! This one was a total accident!—ow!”

“Midomido,” you pouted, prying your boyfriend’s arms away from a dying point-guard. “I want your arms around me too, y’know?”

The entire basketball team is standing there aghast at what you just said in front of the ever-modest Midorima. Sure enough, he was ready to put Takao into a chokehold, and if one didn’t know better, they might think they were extremely close.

“...”

“Miiiiiiido,” you said, tilting your head to look up at his face. He was definitely red. “I want a hug.”

“... We’re going,” was all he said as he (rather harshly) tugged your hand to walk away from the team.

“Oi! Practice isn’t even over yet!”

“Leave poor Shin-chan be. Cut him some slack just this once.”

“Miyaji-san isn’t going to like this when he finds out Midorima isn’t at practice… isn’t he going to kill us all?”

“Easy… just don’t let him find out.”

“Don’t let me find out what.” Miyaji looms over with a threatening smile in a feeble attempt to hide his dark expression. No one needed to turn around to know it was their spartan captain. The immediate chills down their spines told them everything.

“Sh-shit! Run!”

---------

“Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~” you called out to Midorima in a sing-song voice to get him to break his silence. You knew that his amount of patience wasn’t generous like his Teiko-manager Momoi’s, nor was he honest about his feelings like his ex-teammate Kuroko, but nonetheless, he had his own unique charm that you found extremely adoring. To tease that is.

Midorima stops walking abruptly and you softly walk into him from the back, amusedly noting that he still has your hand in a tight grip in his own despite his obvious embarrassment.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” you said, ready to pull out your signature pouts again. “Have you forgotten that I was gonna bring you a bento box to you at practice? Like I usually do?”

Ah, that was right. You always made the time to drop off snacks and water in the middle of practice. He supposed that his fanatical fear of bad luck for the rest of October made him forget. While he’s not the forgetful type, some extreme things just make him feel completely out of sync with his mind. October was one of those occasions.

“... you don’t have to always do this, nanodayo.”

You giggled. That was just his way of saying: “Thank you, but I don’t feel like I deserve all of this.”

“If you really wanna thank me, kiss me on the lips every time we meet up! Even in public!”

“Wha—!” he sputters. “D-Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Half joking. But I want you to rely on me more. I don’t think of this as a burden or obligation. I want to take care of you. Because I want to. Because I love you, Midomido~”

“... Did you have to say the last part?”

“This time I’m not joking, if you didn’t know.”

A silence falls between the two of you before you teased him to break that silence.

“How long are you gonna hold my hand? Not that I’m complaining obviously, but this is way too out of character for you.”

“Sh-shut up,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast onto your linked hands. “I’m thinking, nanodayo.”

And you patiently stand there, relishing the warmth of his hand as you shamelessly drink in the sight of his sweaty form from practice. His hair was a slightly darker viridian from the perspiration, and miniscule droplets slid off his biceps, making him all the more tantalizing.

“... I want to ask you something.” He lets go of your hand and you reluctantly do the same.

“Eh?” You broke out of your admiring trance as you slowly made eye contact with him again. His piercing gaze, you noted, hadn’t changed at all even from the physical exhaustion.

“Could you…” he started, clearly struggling to get the appropriate words out of his tongue. “... bring me extra lucky items every day… just for this… month.” He didn’t even say it in the tone of a question, and his tense shoulders told you everything you needed to know.

Shy Midorima was too adorable.

“Of course!”

“J-just like that?! You’re not going to ask me why?”

“I know you just wanna be extra prepared, Midomido,” you grinned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” At your words, he visibly relaxes.

“However…” Midorima perks his head up.

“My lucky items won’t be based off of the horoscopes… but they’ll be all still chosen to help you in some way.”

“... You’re not planning anything, are you?”

“Of course not! I just feel that I would be able to help you better if I was able to choose these on my own terms since I’m not so good at astrology stuff! Plus, I celebrated Halloween and know all the October superstitions since I was a wee kid… I’m an expert on this stuff, trust me!”

Midorima hesitates before he sighs. You knew that meant he gave in and was ready to accept this without a further objection.

He is going to try to rely on you after all, so he might as well start by believing your words.

“Mido! Look! Those cats have been around lately! Aren’t they so cute??”

Please don’t let it be what he think it is, please don’t let it be what he think it is—

You dash from Midorima’s side as you ditched him for the felines, making the extra effort to coo at them to coax them towards your direction. You don’t even notice the way Midorima has his back to you, stiff as a plank.

“Ne, I’ve always wanted to pet them but they’re so sneaky and elusi—Mido? What are you doing?” you turn away from the cats to peer over the petrified greenhead. A realization popped into your head. “… No way! You can’t be scared of a bunch of cats.”

Midorima quietly gulped to himself before he slowly cranked his neck to you… before he noticed the pair of black cats analyzing him behind you. Chills visibly wracked his body before he bolted behind the nearest wall.

“(y-y/n)! Get away from them, nanodayo!”

“No, dummy! Look, they’re so affectionate and cuddly!” Midorima shrinks back further in annoyance when he sees them rubbing themselves up against you and monopolizing all of your attention. While he would’ve just tugged you away to feel your touch again… the cats were a genuine problem.

He stiffly brings out his phone before dialing his right-hand man.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

“... Takao?”

Please leave a message for Takao Kazunari.

Fuck, how could he forget? He ditched today’s practice in the heat of embarrassment. They were probably at the gym ready to kill him tomorrow. He groaned before facepalming himself. Nothing seems to be going in his favor at all.

Damn it, it was all because of October.

He resignedly sighed as he put away his cell before you hopped to his side again.

“Wahhh, the cats just left,” you whined to him. “I really wanted to pet them more…” Before you reach out to try to hold his hand again, Midorima jumps 3 steps back.

“Stop right there. Not a step closer.”

“Wha? Why?!”

“Bad luck is all over you, and I will not have it be spread to me, nanodayo,” he explained as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Wait right here. I’ll look for a lucky charm to repel the bad luck for you, (y/n).”

Had his superstitiousness really been that bad?

Half an hour passed before Midorima fully “sanitized” you with some type of water with a spray bottle and gave you a “special plushie” to ward off other misfortunes.

“Did you give me a cute stuffed toy because you felt bad for me?” you cooed at him.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea, nanodayo!” he vehemently denied. “The horoscopes said that this particular item was lucky for your sign today.”

“That’s so cute!” you giggled at him nonetheless, and you were immediately met with denying grumbles and half-shouts.

“Say, are you really scared of those cats?” you curiously turned to him.

“I am not scared,” Midorima said matter-of-factly. “They simply do not bring favorable luck.”

“... Right,” you dryly replied, but you decided to change the subject. “Do you ever see yourself ever prepared against the ‘bad luck’ to the point where you’ll never bat an eye at seeing them again?”

“If I work hard and take every opportunity I can, I don’t see why fate won’t give me a favorable outcome regardless.”

“You didn’t notice my spooky ‘bat’ pun, Mido!” you pouted at him.

“Wh-Wha—Stop that—Oi! Don’t tug on me, nanodayo!”

“I’ll see you off to your own house first, so you don’t have to go through the bad luck atmosphere here any longer, okay?”

Meanwhile in your mind, you were concocting up some ideas on how to boost his luck stat for the month…

---------

“Miiiiiiiiidohh!!” you sprinted to catch up to Midorima the next day, noticing how your boyfriend was eyeing warily at whatever you had in your hand. He wordlessly stops and turns to face you.

“I…” you heaved for air. “... have your… lucky item!” You held out a conspicuous, plastic pumpkin bucket, obviously meant to be used for trick-or-treating. He immediately had his guard up the moment he heard rattling coming from said bucket, but he reluctantly peered into it when you made the point of shoving the tacky orange container to his face.

… It was literally all the stereotypical lucky items he’d see in cartoons.

“Horseshoe… plastic dice toys… talismans?” he frowned. “... why are these papers misshapen 7’s and 8’s?”

“Ah… ehehe…” you sheepishly replied. “I may have fibbed up the cutting part just a bit because I was rushing…”

Midorima squints harder to try to discern the rest of the chaotic collection.

A random rabbit’s foot? He would assume it was faux… dirty pennies… dreamcatchers… acorns? Is that a smashed 4-leafed clover??

“... You said you had a lucky item. Singular noun,” he narrowed his eyes. “I was not aware that you garnered such a collection of multiple things in such a short time, nanodayo… unless you had these for a while now.”

“Yeah! Good catch, Midomido!” you grinned. “But it is a lucky item. It’s the bucket!”

“... I’m leaving.”

“No! Midomido!—Hear me out, I swear!” You tugged on his sleeve in a panic, and he heaved a sigh in response but nonetheless stayed in his spot.

“Okay so, any item that you put into this bucket… becomes lucky!” you explained with utmost seriousness. “Since these items are already known to be lucky, if you let it sit in the bucket, they become even luckier!”

Where the hell did you get this logic from?

“It also serves as your lucky item storage, so you can easily rummage out your lucky item for the day with total ease! Not to mention if you somehow run out of lucky items, you can just put any item into the bucket and it’ll turn lucky! You should totally…”

You’re rambling at this point, and while Midorima still cannot comprehend your flimsy logic, his eyes trained onto your bubbly face and your shining eyes, noting your most adorable smile you’d have when you were passionate about something.

… Maybe if you cared that much about his odd habits and went through such a huge extent for his sake, maybe the bucket isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it’s lucky because you worked on this idea with love and care?

“Mido! Are you even listening?” you huffed. “Geez, I go through all of this for you and you won’t even listen! Hmpf!”

Midorima slipped out a small rare smile, and almost immediately, your angry face dissipated and was replaced by a faint blush.

“W-w-well, anyways!” you said. “Thank Takao too! He helped me put this bucket together last minute without letting out a single complaint!”

“Takao?”

“Oh! And one final, personal gift from me!” you said, ignoring his looks of confusion. You pulled something from your bag…

And it was a black-cat ear headband.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never, dummy!” you frowned. “I heard you say it many times during practice about how you have to know your enemies before you can defeat them!...

… What better way is there to know an enemy than to become them?”

Midorima’s smile was overtaken by the harshest frown you’ve seen in a while.

“This is Takao’s idea isn’t it?—where is he?”

“Nooooo! Midomido, come back! Let me put them on at least! Pretty please! Come on, put them on! I wanna hear you meow!—No, wait! Don’t leave me behind! I have so much fun plans for us on the actual day of Halloween! Don’t ruin the spirit, dummy!”

Needless to say, the real danger of his sanity (and his poor heart) was you.

Screw October—he has to learn how to be careful around your own devious tricks 24/7.

[beckydoesthings]

various fics of hxl that i adore reading! this list is quite lengthy, but feel free to message me if you have any questions!

*will continue to be updated. also, if i mistagged you, i apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

Love Is a Rebellious Bird

E | 134k | @100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

i think this tickled every bone of my musical self and also made me cry (are you seeing a theme here??) one of the first fics i fell in love with and one i keep coming back to.

Collision

E | 226k | @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

the world building in this one is insanity - so much good mythology mixed in and it made me screech with joy. i think i can firmly say that i did not expect where the plot went, but that made the story so much better.

Flour and Chocolate

M | 145k | @danosphere91

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the miscommunication in this fic is SO REAL and makes for a good read. the rest of the flour and chocolate series is also fantastic. i thoroughly enjoyed both the ziam and ed/niall arcs that bring the whole story together.

run away home

E | 106k | @hattalove

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

this makes my inner horse girl extraordinarily happy - even if i don’t know anything about horse racing. louis’ story in this is beautiful and makes the whole piece worth a read.

waiting for the tides to meet

E | 60k | @nauticalleeds

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

gorgeous soulmate AU that gives me summer cruising vibes. worth the read for the lettuce scene alone (i kid, i kid)

Do Not Go Gentle

E | 70k | @afirethatcannotdie

“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?

okay i’ve watched maybe 3 episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but i feel like this encompasses the vibe of the show: medical stuff with a hefty dose of angst and sexual tension

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake

M | 58k | @all-these-larrythings

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

one of my favorite mpreg fics so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read it. i love surgeon harry with a vengeance, but honestly Gems and Niall are iconic in this one.

Watching the World Fall

E | 11k | @crazyupsetter why won’t it let me tag :(

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

i have a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Late Late AU fics (we stan James Corden) and for exes to lovers so this checks all the boxes.

autumn leaves

E | 27k | @suspendrs

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

love love french AUs and while this one isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s a beautiful yet heart wrenching piece. warning for period typical homophobia

caught up in your love affair

NR | 8k | @disgruntledkittenface

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

 “I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

just. 8k of royal fluff. that’s literally it and i adore it so much.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You)

M | 54k | @rainbowsandgucci

”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

i never thought i would enjoy an apple orchard fic?? but it’s so good?? farmer harry makes me laugh to think about, but the heartbreak in this fic is so. real.

Mine Would Be You

E | 114k | @crinkle-eyed-boo

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?

exes to lovers drama but make it extra sad. the fact that we see so many facets to this story just makes it all the more painful, yet beautiful. this fic also reminds me of how much i love one mister niall horan.

One for Luck

E | 96k | @leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

again, i know nothing about horses, but i like to pretend i do for the sake of this fic. it’s beautiful, it’s smutty what else could you ask for?

Nothing But You On My Mind

E | 83k | @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

i absolutely. definitely. sobbed tears at this fic. it’s just so beautifully painful to read. don’t want to spoil anything, but this is a must.

Adore You

M | 67k | @isthatyoularry

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

i strongly relate to harry in this one! one of my favorite historical AUs and honestly i love the thought of louis in well fitting suits.

leave it to the breeze

E | 81k | @hattalove

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

i. love. the. great british baking show. baking + h&l is amazing. and another reminder as to why niall is the absolute best.

Paint The Sky With Stars

M | 62k | @icanhazzalou grrr let me tag

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

gorgeous historical fic that’s so accurate and painstakingly written. i keep coming back to it!

When It’s Late At Night

M | 25k | @all-these-larrythings

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

remember when i said i love Late Late AUs? yeah. i love that louis gives absolutely zero shits in this fic until he gives all the shits.

Chasing Empty Spaces

E | 79k | @domestic-harry

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

gorgeous historical AU that goes through Harry’s struggle with his sexuality wonderfully. this one also made me cry.

Resist Everything Except Temptation

E | 100k | @domestic-harry

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR

The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

love this pirate AU that’s got one badass gemma styles. also, harry as a super cool pirate in gorgeous clothes makes me super happy!

i’ll make this feel like home

E | 49k

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

baby momma harry with hot mess!Louis is a recipe for disaster, but this one has plenty of fluff to make up for it.

Hands Clasped Tight

E | 44k | @afirethatcannotdie

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

love love teacher harry and louis that’s mostly funny fluff with a little angst. just a teeny amount. reminds me of my own experiences with meddling students haha.

*updated 2/16/21*

[desire-tenderness]

𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖

{This is a fanfic dreamed and desired. All I write about is my feelings, sensations and desires.  TEXT BY: L.M} Day 1 - Embark on the dazzle. October 9, 2023, Monday. I am exhausted, the recording will begin on Tuesday at 11 am. I think I slept only 3 hours and 20 minutes or I’m just kicking it out loud. This was a very tiring trip I confess. Maybe because it was almost a change of two months and a week. On the bright side, the production has provided a nice apartment for me to live in. My new home is beautiful and comfortable, one block away from Crescent Street, here in Montreal - Canada. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m finally having the opportunity to work with Xavier Dolan, I left my family in Brazil to embark on this dream, I already miss them. I should tell you that I have no idea of the cast that will be on this project, but the script looks fabulous. Before I embarked on this opportunity, I realized a portion of the dream. I and 7 other members of the team dined with Dolan last Thursday, debated the first decupagents and agendas. We had already read the script before the meeting, is it a low-budget experimental drama, and honestly? I lost my breath. I’m not in the position of art director I’ve always dreamed of, but I’m in the position where I have full knowledge and experience. Curious, I am not trembling with nerves, I am completely at peace with this realization. However, very anxious. We’re less than two hours away from reuniting in Saint-Laurent with the cast of "A race by Joseph". [.... ] - Less than two hours later. Okay, I’m about to get my guts out from all the nerves. I’ve heard of some names on the list of actors, including Troye Sivan, Vincent Cassel, and Louise Coldefy. The team is sensational and fucking, Xavier is like a master for me. I need to make these days my best college. I’m at home/rental number six, it’s wonderful. I can see two cars coming through the window, and "God bless me so that Suzanne Clément is in this cast" [Spoiler, I wasn’t, I had to accept], I think I’m going to have an anxiety attack, I need to splash water on my face. I lost count of how many times I filled my hands with water and threw it in my face, I needed to understand that I was really living this moment. I came out of the bathroom apprehensive. Céline handed me a cup of tea mix of Sage, Eucalyptus, Lemon Peel and said "Hey, relax, I’ll see you in the living room.. ah, one more thing, don’t freak out". I feel a chill creeping all over my body as I walk through the door frame. Everyone was waiting for me in the room so we could debate the first two weeks of the recording. I could feel my legs swaying to the point of not having enough sustenance to stand. Timothée Chalamet was sitting on the arm of Dolan’s armchair in silence, reading what would be the 4°page of some document. Quickly he gets up and presents himself squeezing my hand gently. Silence has taken over the environment, I don’t remember my name. [I remembered! ] It was remarkable how difficult he was to pronounce it, it made it all very comical, in seconds we were all laughing. At that time, other cast members performed, but my thoughts were so far away that I don’t know if I missed any important information. [Damn, how many questions are going through my head right now? I don’t even have control over them. Stop! Focus, your future depends on this delivery. ]

[.... ] With the passing of the hours I was reasonably more relaxed and with an unparalleled feeling of gratitude for what was happening to me. We discussed the script, much of it together, the day was very productive. I kept looking at him, he’s so funny and authentic, I feel comfortable now. Obviously we wouldn’t be friends, he wouldn’t notice an assistant director [even though I’m the director’s right-hand man]. The team will be dining with the cast soon, it’s 5:47 pm and I haven’t been able to confirm my presence at this dinner. What’s my problem?! Celine: You’ll go, right? We’ll go home together and unpack. Me: Oh Céli, I don’t think I will. I have a lot to pack, tomorrow starts the recordings and I want to do everything right. Celine: No, you are not going to organize things by yourself. Nor has dinner there in the house, let’s eat please, I’m starving. Think you need to catch up! Me: Relax Celi, I’ll do things in my time, have a wine while I cook something and sleep early. Look, Wednesday we won’t record.. We can go downtown and get a quick look at the city, what do you think? Celine: You’re hopeless. Well, I’ll tell you about it. Arriving at the apartment I opened all the windows, and went to cook thinking about what the following days would be like. I decided then that I should not intensify anything, it could disrupt me at work and I can’t let my impulsive Aryan side get out of hand. I decided to go to the disco and see what the last song the host of the apartment heard. Well, did you start playing Nick Drake’s Pink Moon and honestly? I can’t let the pink moon get me. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life, it’s as fascinating as on screens or in photographs. [Stop! Concentrate. ] [...] 00:01 am The wine bottle is 98% empty now. I have not yet fallen asleep and Celine is already in her 8th deepest sleep. I need to sleep. She said that they were so energized, that the team’s relationship is great and that she ate a delicious Poutine, I found it very courageous for those who will spend the whole day recording tomorrow.  [I’m laughing alone while imagining a disaster] I will sleep and tomorrow will be the first day of my life. I swear I was born now and suddenly everything changed. Things will be built from now on. Timothée Chalamet? I hear you’re a good actor, I don’t know you. Good night and see you soon.

Part 2

Day 50 - And I’m probably happy, could it be different? November 27, 2023, Friday. There are times I do not write in this "virtual diary", my days are super busy. Today we finish the work a little earlier, we finish the movie! I think it’s 4:00 now. Right, and why did I come back to write? Well, I wanted to forget the feeling that took me completely 50 days ago. But today something has happened that does not allow me to escape any feeling that exists here. Louise is severely ill, Christ! We’re at the end of the shoot, she’s Timothée’s date, missing four takes of a kiss between them for her last acting scene. Dolan needed two different angles and he didn’t have a voice voice available so suddenly. Louise and I have very similar hair and what I feared went through Dolan’s mind. "Be the Double" he said. Yeah, Chalamet and I kissed today, and, hell, there was no professionalism on my part or for a millisecond, I feel terrible! I felt like I had been thrown out of a plane and I was in a free fall. My heart had never accelerated so much. My fantasy almost made me believe that one of the butterflies in my stomach was coming out of my mouth 1 minute later. Holy shit! [What if it was not reciprocal? Of course it was not, silly! We are friends. ] I’m so pissed about it, I’ll tell them why.

All these days I’ve really become friends with Timothée, can you believe it? I’ve always been very afraid to talk to him because he doesn’t find me interesting enough. But we have an unusual tune. We had a lot of coffee together, a lot of claquettes I hit due to recording mistakes, we went out with the guys several times, even "alone" and that’s okay, we talked about Brazil and he made sure to go there anytime, I even smoked one of his cigarettes, even hating cigarettes. We were talking about how funny Vincent is and how amazing he is, and we were talking about how they were both working for the first time with Xavier Dolan. We laughed at stupid things until the belly hurt and even bet race in the parking lot next to the location. [He won, of course, has huge legs].

One day we were together cutting fruit for the rest of the team on the set as we talked about Georges de La Tour, "That ordinary painter" I said, and he gave a delicious laugh. He’s much simpler than I thought he could be, carries an admirable humility. And I swear, it was fine, because I was fascinated by that friendship and I could feel that it would last for many years. I’ve learned to deal with your stunning beauty. I liked the way he accepted me and had fun with me. He didn’t think I was silly. I was working for a salary and a bright future, and suddenly I felt I had won the lottery until that moment after the kiss. I feel like I’m failing at my resolve. To finish screwing with my mind, Celine told me something that made me much more sensitive about a feeling that, I swear, once again, I had managed to forget. Although I often fantasized that a mood was going on, I knew it was impossible. He definitely sees me as the cool girl makes him laugh and that he can truly trust. Celine: Look. I, for recklessness, overheard Timothée talking to Troye about you. I did not hear enough but I must say that your tone of voice was of pure indignation... Troye said, "She’s the kind of girl you want so much, you feel sorry for". Me: God damn it, did he hate my kiss?! I’m going to die, Celine! Troye clearly should be making fun of the situation. Who am I supposed to show up at Dolan’s tomorrow for dinner? Celine: Calm friend, you are traveling.. I have noticed things and I will not open my mouth. Everything will be fine, seriously.. kiss the chalamet? How can you be angry about that? [laughed] By the way, tomorrow after dinner, I’ve arranged to spend the night at Julie’s, do you want to go? Me: Oh.. I’m not in the mood to hear Julie talk all night about the new vegan recipes, sorry, pal. Celine: Okay.. I won’t bring you nice things. [My phone vibrated. I was reluctant to look, but it could be work.. ] Text Msg Timothée: I hope you’re okay, you seemed strange going away. Want to talk? By the way, you did well in tonight’s performance, you should try harder. Me: Says my angel, how are you? I am well, of course I am. [laughs nervously and it was noticeable] I was just nervous to have to act for Dolan and know that I will see myself on a movie screen, even if at closed angles. By the way, Mr. Chalamet, thank you very much. I have the seal of approval that interests me hahah Msg of text Timothée: I like it. See you tomorrow? Me: Yes, of course, until tomorrow! Msg of text Timothée: [video uploaded]

Part 3

Day 51 - Ecstasy, landscape of the soul. November 29th, 2023, Sunday morning. I don’t know how to write about how last night went.. I was upset, but I remember everything. I won’t be able to keep this journal after that I’ll tell. We were all gathered at Dolan’s house, drinking and laughing a lot, toasting to finish this incredible project. I already felt completely dizzy and with the warm body, things kept spinning in my head, it was so beautiful. He wore a leather jacket over the green sweatshirt, had a golf cap (Odd Future) hanging on one of the pants straps where his belt was, the black jeans almost on his knee and a red vans, and that hair.. that hair! It’s like a restless ocean. I was wishing to walk across the room and kiss him again with all the intensity that belongs to me, he would like it this time. My body was on fire, suddenly I was frozen, it’s coming toward me. I knew I could spoil any conversation by being totally random and awkward, I was dying of shame in advance. Timothée: Are you happy? Me: Sure, congratulations! You did a great job, I’m very proud of all of you. Timothée: Thank you, but none of this would have been the same if you weren’t on the team, right? Me: Right! [Cheers] [Silence] Timothée: What are you thinking right now? Me: Who you are, Where you’re from, don’t care what you Did as long as you love me..[I started singing As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys, really?] Timothée: Oh my God! [He laughed almost for the world to hear]. Are you going to Julie’s with Céline? There’s going to be a vegan class. I’d like a pizza, okay? Me: Look.. I also wanted a pizza instead of vegan food.. But I’m getting dizzy and I think I’m gonna go home and do my drunken show in the shower. Timothée: Ah.. Right, you’re dizzy, but you still know how many fingers you have here? [He did an 8 with his fingers] Me: Yes, of course. I’m fine, man, I’m weak but not that weak. Give me a skateboard there! [I screamed, and they didn’t take me seriously] Timothée: So.. we can go for a coffee to break the alcohol and fill the stomach with a piece of pizza, what do you think? Me: Wooah! Come on, send world pizza! [I couldn’t say no, I was completely taken. ]     We got to what used to be a kind of blinker-light coffee, it had a super-hot vibe. We sat down and made the request, we laughed drunk and said nothing that made sense, I felt our friendship alive again. However, the silence and the exchange of looks came, so we could hear the music that played in the background. It was "And I Love Her" by the Beatles”. Suddenly he began to sing. Timothée: "She gives me Everything and Tenderly. The Kiss my Lover brings, she brings to me and I love her." Me: Yeah.. beautiful music. You sing over and over again better than me. When did you start playing music? [My hands started sweating] Timothée: [he laughed] Are you all right? Me: Timmy. .ah.. I think I’m going home to take another shower, rest and call my family, I don’t know. Timothée: Okay, I’ll accompany you, I can’t let you go back alone so late. Me: You don’t need my angel. I’m a ninja! [I made the shameful gesture of a martial coup and tripped. The truth is I wanted him to insist] Timothée: Without that [laughed] let’s go!

We got to the apartment, he came up with me and put his coat on the couch. I offered him water, am I pathetic? He said he did not want to, but that if possible, he would like to stay. I felt as if we were talking by telepathy, I am not crazy. He feels the same. I said he could stay, even super apprehensive. I took two cigarettes from Kumbaya that I made on Tuesday and shouted from the room "let’s get some air on the balcony while we smoke!?". Upon returning to the room, he had put Cigarettes after sex to play, silently. Nothing but the music. Breaths. Another dose of silence. My body pumped blood with so much speed, [says something] I thought. He touched my right hand and looked at me. Those green eyes made me feel warm inside as never before. I got up the courage to pull him to the balcony that led to the fire escape. The sky was beautiful and the wind touching our faces was like a sky giveaway, I needed that fresh night air. Timothée: Do you need me to say it? I can say it. Me: I know what you’re going to say and I’m terrified. You want me too. Timothée: I want to. You make me feel good. I feel my presence truly when I share a moment with you. "Sometimes I think I’ve felt everything I’m going to feel in my life. And from now on, I won’t feel anything new. " Me: I promise that one day I will feel that everything is right. but it feels so wrong. Man, I feel like I’m living a fanfic, and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and none of this ever happened, or worse, if it’s real, our friendship being compromised by what’s possibly going to happen here. He put his hands on my face, kissed my forehead. Timothée: The heart is not like a box that fills, L. It expands in size, the more you love someone. I’m different from you. It doesn’t make me love you any less. It actually makes me love you more. I want you. Me: Right.. We are here only briefly, and at this moment I want to allow myself joy. I want that, Timothée. And I promise that one day I will feel like everything is fine. He lovingly bowed to touch his lips to mine. Feeling those soft lips against mine, it was almost like an apocalyptic sensation, the world could end right there, would have no problem. We kissed as we entered through the large window of the room, the first pieces of clothing filling the lonely floor of the room. The music Sunsetz conducted our intimate dance. The words "you have to do the right thing, do the right thing" started to disappear from my head.

I feel overflowing out of the body, sensitive, I am under the effect of exaltation, very intense feelings of joy, pleasure, admiration, reverent awe... Timothée. I truly love him. We are lying on the living room floor, apparently wrapped in a curtain that has been disastrously removed. Timothée, his breath is hot, the sound coming out of his mouth shivers my body. We were like the painting of Egon Schiele - Gli Amanti (L'Abbraccio).

Blackout. Light. The voice of an angel reaches my ear. My eyes open. He looked at me in silence, I could smell his mildly sweet citrus smell all over the room. Its aroma stimulates my sensations. Timothée: I’ll make you a cup of coffee. I’ll be careful with the amount of sugar, it’ll be just the way you like it. Keep lying down, angel. Geez, what happens now? I don’t know, he doesn’t know, you don’t know. Anyway, I feel complete.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | October 2020

Happy 28th! I probably sound like a broken record already but I have to say it again: this fandom has an insane amount of talented writers! I am in awe! Every single one of you is my hero! ♥♥♥ Here are all the 23 fics I read and loved this month:

✧ Welcome to The Rivalry | 2tiedships2 | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - enemies to lovers - rivalry - college - 19k “Welcome home!” Niall yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. “Isn’t it great?” Louis looked between Niall and the house, unsure how to respond. “I don’t understand,” Louis finally managed to say. “Aren’t we a little old to be living so close to campus?” Niall scoffed. “You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. There is still plenty of partying left for us to do. What better place than one street over from where a car was set on fire after the Michigan game last year?” “Is there proof of that? Did the car have Michigan plates or something? Is there a photo I can send in a DM to Wolfie?” As if on cue, a Twitter notification popped up on Louis’ Apple watch. He had tweeted again. Or a reverse You’ve Got Mail au inspired by the Ohio State/Michigan rivalry. Featuring duplex neighbors, (kind of) enemies to lovers, and an anonymous Twitter feud between omega Louis and alpha Harry.

✧ Back to Seventeen | crimsontheory | teacher - soccer coach - 26k As a first grade teacher in a small town in Illinois, Harry’s life is pretty simple. He loves his job, is close with his family, and has a best friend he would go to the ends of the earth for. When a new soccer coach starts at the local high school, things start to get a bit more exciting for Harry. Because that coach just happens to be Louis Tomlinson; the guy Harry was unrequitedly in love with in high school. Or the one where Louis moves back to his hometown and Harry realizes he’s still not over his high school crush.

✧ Sigh for Sigh | logogram | historical - a/b/o - regency - miscommunication - pining - marriage of convenience - 11k When his father's sudden illness forces Harry to get married in a hurry, he's delighted that Lord Louis Tomlinson is the one who makes him an offer. Being married to Louis is just as wonderful as he imagined, except for one thing-- they haven't mated yet. Or the one where they're both idiots, Harry's afraid to say what he's thinking, and Louis's just trying to be honorable.

✧ We Can Find a Place to Feel Good | yeah_alright | 1960s - High School - school dances - 8k 14-year-old Harry is ecstatic to finally be old enough to experience the time-honored tradition of school dances. But with each year that passes and each dance he attends, he’s realizing they’re not all he used to hope they’d be. Especially when he can't actually dance with the person he most wants to. Maybe he and Louis can figure out their own ways to keep dancing, anyway.

✧ At Risk, I Fold | clare328 | canon compliant - established relationship - angst - emotional hurt/comfort - miscommunication - anxiety - implied/referenced alcohol abuse - 15k 2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

✧ Carry These Feelings | LadyLondonderry | fae Á faires - established relationship - magic - 3k Harry is one of the fae, and has to return to Court once a year to please the Queen. He makes a detour on his way home to Louis. Two weeks and I'll be home.

✧ Hung Up High in the Gallery | lovelarry10 | friends to lovers - slow burn - pining - 14k "Louis, lay still!” Louis sighed loudly, and Harry watched his chest puff out as he inhaled deeply, the breath he let out loudly making Harry’s curls shift. “I am, stop being so fussy. Can I see yet?” “Nope,” Harry remarked, smiling to himself. “I’m doing your chest next. Shit, this is going to look so good, Lou. Your tan and these colours… why haven’t we done this before?” “Because we haven’t been this drunk in a while, and it never occurred to me until tonight?” ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ When Harry’s best friend, Louis, comes to support him at his art show, he decides they need to do some celebrating afterwards. How fast do the lines between friends and lovers get blurred ... or better, get painted?

✧ Love you in the dark | Perzikje | historical - wedding night - arranged marriage - dubious consent - 10k The story of a historical wedding night: in which Louis is quite unaware as to just how clueless his brand new husband is about sex. They try their best to figure it out together.

✧ Victorian Boy | audreyhheart | historical - victorian - royalty - enemies to friends to lovers - slow burn - angst - murder mystery - 101k Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

✧ the anticipation of knowing you | sweetrevenge | strangers to lovers - neighbors - light angst - 13k Hello Neighbor! Just wanted to let you know that you were having sex so loud and scarily I called our building manager and security officer because I thought you were hurt. P.S. I sent them away when I heard you yell ‘cock’. I’m sorry that I heard that, but I wanted you to know in case they stopped by to check on you or something. Sorry! Your neighbor Louis Tomlinson in apartment #306 After Louis overhears his next door neighbor having sex, he doesn’t really expect anything but awkward hallway encounters to come from it. Instead, he’s surprised to find himself in a whirlwind pen pal relationship with the sweet, albeit loud, baker next door.

✧ We'll Be All Right | dandelionfairies | married couple - accridents - 13k Harry is performing his one night only show in LA but there are four very important people missing.

✧ The Last Song of Your Life | reminiscingintherain | famous/not famous - Rays of Sunhsine - homophobia - 21k As Harry glanced around at all of the faces, he froze as a very familiar pair of blue eyes leapt out at him. A pair of eyes that he hadn’t seen since before the One Direction bomb exploded. A pair of eyes that he never expected to see again. ~~~~ or the famous/not famous AU, with first love, miscommunication, interfering bandmates, and adorable little sisters.

✧ Her | jaerie | a/b/o - trans character - transitioning - dysphoria - anxiety - quarantine - 7k The buttery swipe of a high quality lipstick was almost a sexual experience in and of itself. This time a deep colour with purple undertones which drew out the emphasis of long, dark lashes and perfectly contoured cheekbones. It was a look for loose and styled curls, feeling the classy formal nightclub vibes reflected back from the mirror. The silky plum coloured slip dress would be perfect to debut. The tags still needed to be cut free from the new garment that hung in the closet, but tonight was the night to set it free. When Harry gets home, she can finally be who she wants to be. Letting someone else in always feels like a distant daydream to her... until it suddently isn't.

✧ Loving You's the Antidote | lululawrence | Stylinshaw - a/b/o - touch deprivation - hospitalization - soulmates - polyamory - anxiety - friends to lovers - no smut - 11k Nick and Harry had never been an obvious match. When eighteen-year-old Harry, newly presented as an omega, came home freshly bonded to Nick, a man nine years his elder and a beta no less, Anne had been more than skeptical and Eileen had shared some harsh words of her own. That didn’t deter them, though, and their families soon realised there really was something special about the bondmates that allowed them to work together almost seamlessly. It was only a few months later that Harry started getting sick. Or the one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.

✧ Like A Neon Sign | reminiscingintherain | canon compliant - mentions of death - fluff - 8k Harry had always been perfect to Louis, through every age, through every stage, and in all the important ways, he was proud to have been able to witness the growth that Harry had experienced first-hand.

✧ We Had Everything | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | exes to lovers - getting back together - famous/not famous - 3k “You know Harry’s coming, yeah?” Louis’ fingers twitched, faltering where he was straightening the knot in his tie as he tried to ignore the false nonchalance in Zayn’s voice. He had no idea how he missed the name on the invite list, how he skipped over the initials on the small gifts, didn’t notice the elegant swirl of Harry’s name inked onto an emerald green place card. Or, Louis and Harry fell apart, and Louis' never forgiven himself. He gets a second chance at Zayn and Liam's wedding.

✧ True To Your Heart | reminiscingintherain | Mulan AU - a/b/o - 13k The world was at war with itself. In the small country of Enilenif, in a tiny, often overlooked corner of the world, young Alphas were quickly signing up to fight, desperate to protect their Omegas and their country as Aidem began to attack their borders. A few defiant Omegas tried to enlist as well, but were firmly turned away with disapproving looks by the staff in the office. Harry Styles was one such Omega, sighing heavily as he kicked at a small stone on his walk home.

✧ What the Water Gave Me | larryatendoftheday | fantasy - mermaids - long distance relationship - 29k When a mermaid crawls out of the sea to listen to Harry sing, it changes everything.

✧ it’s hard for me to go home | localopa | angst - breakup - getting back together - 5k don’t call me baby again

✧ The Prince and the Thief | jaerie | Fairy Tale - a/b/o - strangers to lovers - violence - kidnapping - threats of rape/non-con - 19k Harry is an omega prince locked in a tower and Louis is the thief sent to kidnap him. Nothing turns out as planned.

✧ Up On The Shore | wordsnnotes | Eroda AU - magic - epistolary - friends to lovers - childhood friends - emotional/psychological abuse - angst - long-distance relationship - domestic violence - 34k Magic has been outlawed on Eroda ever since President Cowell came into power, and all the magic people had to go live on the island of Stonell. Things are not looking good for Harry when he finds out he's a magician and his abilities seem more and more out of control. Thankfully, his best friend Niall's mother has the idea to put him in touch with Louis, a magician boy living on Stonell. They begin a secret correspondence and drama ensues. Or: Louis hides his feelings under sarcasm, Harry is too sweet for his own sake, everyone is a rebel, the mums are amazing, Harry's dad is a jerk, and I'm struggling to make it understandable without using normal narration.

✧ this town's just an ocean now | louistomlinsons | exes to lovers - friends to lovers - summer romance - miscommunication - childhood friends - light angst - fluff - 31k “I have really great friends. Do you remember Louis? You guys were always hanging out when you were growing up.” Harry remembers Louis. Harry remembers Louis. Suddenly, his throat feels way too dry, despite the ice cream he keeps licking at. He chokes a little on a chocolate chip before saying, “I, uh. I remember Louis.” Her face brightens. “We have dinner every Sunday. He owns the house now. His parents moved further north, and he wanted to stay here, so they just gave it over. Now if you want to worry about someone being lonely, that’s who I worry about.” inspired by watermelon sugar, featuring picnics on the beach and boys being dumb

✧ I Am the Blinking Light | dearmrsawyer | ghosts - shipwreck - 19k There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.