#my-fics

[hellolovers13]

Lonely Cards Club

by hellolovers13

Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles | Chapter 25/25

tags: Christmas fluff, strangers?/exes?/friends? to lovers, idk but it's one of those

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. 💌 An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

💌01💌 💌02💌 💌03💌 💌04💌 💌05💌 💌06💌

💌07💌 💌08💌 💌09💌 💌10💌 💌11💌💌12💌

💌13💌 💌14💌 💌15💌 💌16💌 💌17💌 💌18💌

💌19💌 💌20💌 💌21💌 💌22💌 💌23💌 💌24💌

💌25💌

[freckledjoes]

Munson mornings

Friday - March 21st, 1986

It was one of those rare days where Wayne had worked an afternoon shift, meaning that he had had plenty of sleep before he sat down at the kitchen table in their trailer. He knew it would take Eddie about an hour or more before he'd wake up from his slumber, probably grasping at some honey combs before he'd rush out the door, mumbling something along the lines of "Missed first period, what's new." with his mouth still full. Wayne would then look at the crumbs on the doormat and consider that a task for another day.

However, today was a different day for both Munsons, it seemed, as Wayne heard Eddie trashing about in his room, loudly complaining about being unable to find something, much earlier than he was used of him. At one point he let out a happy yell, meaning that he'd probably found what he was looking for, and then possibly stubbed his toe in excitement, judging by all of the swearing that immediately followed after. His door opened, the bathroom door following and not much later Wayne could hear the shower.

Seeing as his nephew would probably have considerable time to get to school, he figured he could make them some eggs on toast, a little treat right before the weekend. It wasn't until Eddie stepped out of the shower that he realized that Wayne was home.

"You're home? Why aren't you asleep?"

"Afternoon shift."

"Oh. Eggs?"

"If you wanna."

"Sure. Can you—"

"Already done it."

Wayne had prepared Eddie's plate just how he liked it, with the eggs cut perfectly to fit on the toast, and the other bits on the side so he could eat those as a "snack". Eddie got dressed first, left the towel around his neck for his dripping curls and added a tiny bit of eyeliner to his eyes. As Eddie sat down, Wayne could immediately tell he was excited about something by the way his features contrasted his usual morning expression drastically. That meant four options.

One: He had a date (unlikely)

Two: Some kind of good drug deal coming up (possible, but Eddie usually didn't really talk about that stuff around his uncle)

Three: He had a gig (it wasn't Tuesday)

Four: Anything related to his D&D campaign (bingo)

"Those little shits have no idea what's coming," Eddie said with a slight evil grin right before taking a bite of his toast, groaning at the taste of it.

"Campaign night?"

"Uh-huh. I've got the dungeon all set up. There are so many traps, but there are two things that could help them out if they know where to look. Dustin will probably try but I bet Mike's gonna rush them into their deaths without blinking. Him and probably Gareth. See, there's this, let's call him "demon guy" for your sake, and he's gonna be waiting right here," Eddie grabbed some dry crackers that he wasn't planning to eat and used them to lay out a part of the dungeon map he'd been working on the past few weeks. Wayne followed his movements, watched how Eddie broke tiny pieces off the crackers to emphasize that one bit had a rounded corner, and stacked some honey combs to show the position of "demon guy" while also popping a few of them into his mouth as he explained further.

Eddie went on and on, eggs on toast almost forgotten until Wayne wordlessly nudged his plate so he'd remember and would take a bite out of it in between. Wayne watched him fondly, cherishing the light he recognized in Eddie's eyes, a light that seemed a rare occurence nowadays. He hoped that graduating would work out this year, so Ed could stop beating himself up about it. Maybe he could get himself a job as a mechanic, he seemed to like working on his van. Or perhaps something backstage, with lights or music, so that he could be involved in that industry even if he hadn't made it big himself just yet. Wayne knew he was meant for big things. He had the drive for it, just needed the confidence.

"Wayne? Are you listening? This part is crucial."

"What did I tell ya about chewing with your mouth open, boy?" Wayne sighed half-heartedly as crumbs landed everywhere on the table. Eddie gave him an apologetic smile (full of food) and tapped impatiently on a piece of honey comb that now represented a summoning circle.

"So this is where..."

Wayne didn't mean to, he really didn't, but he lost track the second Eddie started talking. Maybe being distracted was a Munson trait, who knew. He smiled fondly and took in all his gestures, enjoying the quiet morning with his nephew who was the opposite of quiet. It was nice, having him around. It always had been, even throughout puberty where he hadn't always been easy. He would always be his boy, a young man ahead of his old man in many ways.

As Eddie finished his breakfast and went back into his room to grab his stuff for the campaign that evening, Wayne decided he should ask Eddie about the campaign the next day. He couldn't wait to see hear how his clever nephew made those kids twist and turn. Eddie was a great storyteller, and his own story was only just beginning.

—

This was a vague idea that popped up in my brain, which I shared with @stevesxyellowxsweater, basically thanks to Joseph mentioning a dinner scene (I think it was dinner? I'm forgetful - anyway I turned it into breakfast) between Eddie and Wayne would've been nice.

It's a little painful, in retrospect, but that's the duffelbags' fault not mine :)) Anyway hope you like? I rarely post writings sooo yeah.

[testing-carraville]

Memory

He didn't have Jamie's memory, his supernatural recall for small moments, the way he could remember statistics from years, decades ago, down to the details.

He cared, but not enough to fix them into his mind, carve their own space into his brain so deep he could recall it without thinking.

Not like the small details he remembered reading in Jamie's autobiography, his confession he worried about his arms (his scars).

And if it became a routine? To kiss his boyfriend's arms, to go down his belly, lavish the old silver lines with attention — it was because of them he had Jamie, and the miracle he was, that he was alive and there — and whispering ridiculous, sweet compliments, watching as Jamie's skin pinked under his blush and pleasure, getting him to understand how precious he was, how loved.

Gary didn't say the words often — was almost allergic to them, in fact. But Jamie deserved to hear them, no matter his embarrassment, or how hard it was to get them out of his mouth, where they seemed to accumulate like rocks in a quarry, imperfect leavings when you needed perfection — still, he tries, with rough words to beloved ears, soft hands on blessed scars, trying to turn himself into a haven, like Jamie was his.

And feeling the heartbeat close to his slow, muscles loosing tension, breathing calming down, he kept speaking, moving them to bed, to where Jamie could rest comfortably while he guarded his dreams, vowing to do what he could for him.

[yeehawpim]

a comic about fix-it fanfics

[whatsnewalycat]

Made this for u 💝

[bamsara]

"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years

[pixiemage]

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

[majoringinsarcasm]

DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.

SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST

[cemeterything]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[spectralsleuth]

Reblog and put your rare pair in the tags/comments! I want to see the depths people will go to create, for the most random two characters in the most obscure media.

[pocket-dragon]

Durge murder aura detected

[hellolovers13]

Take the Moment and Taste It

by hellolovers13

Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles | E | 4.6k

tags: Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Cheeky Harry, Meet-Cute

“You made him a bracelet?” “Yeah. It’s a whole thing, people make these friendship bracelets and trade them at the shows. I got a bunch from fans while I was there, but I wanted to give Harry one, with my number on it.” “Your number as in 28, your squad number, or your phone number?” Louis smirked. “You know which one.” or Louis didn't get the chance to give Harry his bracelet in person, but Harry isn't one to leave fate alone.

Read now on AO3

[britishmuffin]

ATLA sketches because I'm deep into it atm 8)

★ patreon || website || twitter ★

[testing-carraville]

Trust

One of the things about Gary that he very early on had discovered — the man didn't bloody know when to stop.

He was up at 5 in the morning, already tweeting or making a comment about something, would multi-task the whole day, and then when Jamie's insomnia inevitably led to him randomly messaging, he would answer back.

You would think someone with so much experience would know his own limits... But Gary seemed to have an inexhaustible well of energy. When he started listing everything he did... Jamie got tired just from listening, wondering how his co-pundit (friend) made it all work.

Sometimes, age did overtake Gary. Like now, as he had fallen sleep on Jamie's shoulder, after they had recorded themselves playing FIFA for an ad.

The camera crew was long gone, along with the director and his assistants. Gary had crashed after they had settled down to watch footie re-runs, and Jamie hadn't had the heart to wake him up, not even when his head slipped, resting from his shoulder to his lap.

The sheer trust the act implied... It blew his mind, made his heart accelerate, even as he took caution to not wake him up.

Jamie turned down the TVs sound, put his cellphone on silent, and admired the time passing by the expressions in Gary's face, as the sun set him in gold and red.

[ao3commentoftheday]

fics that are like 500 to 1200 words or so often have a particular kind of energy to me - like the author sat bolt upright in bed, struck by the most brilliant inspiration of their entire lives, and then typed as fast as their fingers would allow them to in order to capture it all before it left.

oneshots that are just a straight, clear shot from the brain to the page with no real filter in between? that's good stuff right there.

[bibibuck]

people telling you they reread your fic is the biggest compliment you could ever receive. there are thousands of stories out there begging to be found, to be explored, but your story meant so much to someone that they came back to it eagerly, they went over every word again. to love is to return and loving a fic is rereading it. thank you to all readers and rereaders <3333