my year in fic <3
thank you @arakhnee for the tag <33 ily /p
(chronological order)
so please hurry (leave me) - posted, completed, 1.2k words
She’d leave her keys in the car. Someone would steal it, surely, but after what had been stolen from Mary, a car was so insignificant. She wouldn’t come back, either way, she knew she wouldn’t, so she would never need it again. She promised herself she wouldn’t visit Great Britain again, and most certainly not bloody London.
how a saint could love a flower - posted, completed, 1.7k words
Because Mary was everything, the sun in the sky, the moon of the nights, the sky’s stars, she gave the world life and love and joy and laughter, and she was Lily’s, her muse, her lover, her everything.
your lips, my lips (apocalypse) - posted, wip, 4.5k words
She loved Stevie Nicks. And it might sound cliché, but her favorite song was Edge of Seventeen. It reminded her of those late nights she spent with Mary and Marlene at that stupid camping site back when they were fourteen. Lily remembered how she smoked her first cigarette in the bathroom of their cabin, in that old bathroom with light blue tiles and a yellowing bathtub, to the tune of this song.
i'll break your pretty face - posted, wip, 8.5k words
Marlene moaned, dramatically. “They’re all fucking ugly! They all look like backward apes who haven't seen the sun ever since the day they have been born! The only one that’s a bit more decent is Freddie, and I only like his haircut, because, let’s face it, it’s cool. I’d get a haircut like that too. But besides that, they’re all, like, extremely ugly.”
the girl gone cray - posted, wip, 22.1k
“Who the fuck are you?”
She smiled to them, and it made their blood boil. "Who are you? That is the real question."
rock 'n' roll, baby! - posted, wip, 12.5k words
“Smiling at your phone like a loser again, Cas?” Regulus asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought we were over the lovesick teenager phase.”
all the sinners (sin again) - posted, wip, 1.6k
He had died during their war, which became almost like an old wives’ tale, something that spilled out of ex-warriors and people that lived through it after glasses of wine and something that grandparents and mothers and fathers told the children about, but it was something that seemed so far away to the little ones, they listened to the stories as if they were something entirely fictional, death and bloodshed being just stories of the past, that could never happen again because Voldemort had died.
people stared (at the make up on his face) - not posted, wip
"Thea, or Hea," The other man said absentmindedly, grabbing a Coca Cola from the fridge. "She doesn't care, call her whatever."
"Thea... short for? Theodora?"
"Shithead," Rudy grinned, closing the door with his foot.
tagging: @enbysiriusblack, @littlequeers, @mad-elia, and anyone else who want to participate!
