#i swear on my life this started as a silly doodle and got out of hand

[bebagerie]

i fell in love with a war

#i swear on my life this started as a silly doodle and got out of hand #my art :) #ravening war #delissandro katzon #colindeli #a mut mentioned him with colins knife and i havent known peace #forgive how messy this is maybe i wouldve spent more time on it if i didnt have a QUEUE TO WORK ONN im so sorry everyone #productivity is great but a gay sandwich?

[cumikering]

Possessive best friend Soap x reader 2

2k | fluff, violence, swearing Prequel: how you and Soap met (Part 1) (Part 3/5)

You and Soap went to the same secondary school. You grew up watching the raucous group of boys at the canteen, the one with the mohawk seemingly the most prominent.

In sixth year, you shared the same class and finally got to know his name – John Mactavish, or Johnny for short. Like the typical teenager, he was boisterous with his pals, often getting chalks chucked at him by annoyed teachers when his pranks interrupted classes.

You, on the other hand, were quiet and studious. For your 16th birthday, in an attempt to make more friends, your mum forced you to bake something to give away to your classmates. You did so begrudgingly with your minimal baking skills, showing up the next day at school with two huge Tupperwares.

“Oi, are those brownies?” a voice called as you took your seat. It was Soap, nodding at the Tupperwares on your table.

“Yes,” you confirmed, a bit taken aback he talked to you.

He hopped off the table he sat on and approached you with a grin. “May I please have some?” He couldn’t contain his excitement - he loved brownies.

You chuckled. “Sure. I’m sharing them with everyone actually. It’s my birthday.”

“Oh, is it? Happy birthday to you!” He took the seat in front of you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, cracking open a Tupperware, the delicious smell hitting him right in the face.

He didn’t waste another second before grabbing a piece. He groaned as he savoured the first bite. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, it’s pure dead brilliant,” he said with wide eyes.

You laughed at his eagerness.

“Can I please have more?” he deadpanned.

You nodded.

“Thank you!” he took another piece. “Oi everyone! It’s my pal’s birthday. Come wish ‘em and get some mad brownies!”

Your gaze locked for a few seconds as your classmates came over with their wishes. He gave you a playful smile, the smile you eventually came to realise was almost a permanent embellishment on his face.

He’d noticed you early into the school year. You always listened to the teacher during lessons and only spoke when you were spoken to – not his favourite kind of student to befriend, but he was glad to have assisted you that day. Your grateful smile was all the reward he needed.

Soap started talking to you after that. Teasingly pestering you about baking more for him, sometimes asking you to join his table during recess. You flourished that year too, finally coming out of your shell, making more friends for yourself.

Joining Special Forces was all Soap could talk about ever since becoming friends with you, including his disappointment at his failed attempts to join by lying about his age. SAS finally accepted him when he turned 18 and you couldn’t be prouder of him.

In the sea of recruits, Soap stood out even without his mohawk. He had grown taller and much buffer, could also finally grow a stubble the past year. He looked dashing in his snug uniform. Sending him off was bittersweet, knowing he was stepping off into a completely different world, leaving you behind. When he pulled you into a tight embrace, you whole heartedly wished him the best, accepting it as the end of your friendship.

Soap didn’t think the same at all. While his friends came and go, you were the one who stood the test of time and remained in his life throughout the years. He always found the time to send you letters and silly doodles torn off his journal – you kept them all in a shoebox under your bed. In return, you sent him care packages filled with your baked goods and Irn Bru, his favourite fizzy.

It was hard not to fall for you when you were always there for him every step of the way, watching each other grow up. You were his home away from home. The few times a year he did visit, his attraction towards you grew stronger every time.

After you graduated uni, you thought you were crazy when you moved to where his base was. Sure, it was a bigger city with better opportunities, but there were obviously other cities to move to. But you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore - you wanted to be closer to him. Soap was ecstatic when he heard the news, bringing you everywhere he knew in the city, making sure you settled right in.

One evening as he took you to one of his favourite pubs, a police officer said something nasty about you as you passed his patrol car. You shrugged it off, but Soap picked up his pace walking you to the pub before excusing himself.

“Oi, you!” he challenged, his deep voice rumbling throughout the street as he stalked towards the officer.

He turned to Soap, eyes widening as he straightened up off the side of his car.

Soap got right up to the taller man’s face. “Aye, you. Get tae fuck!” He punched him square in the face, and the officer collapsed backwards onto his bonnet with a loud thud.

Soap blinked, not expecting him to get knocked out cold like that. Before he slid off to the ground, Soap grabbed him by the collar and chucked him in the backseat of his own vehicle. He almost got disciplinary action for the mindless stunt, but the officer didn’t press charges due to embarrassment. You were none the wiser, thinking he simply went to the loo because he came back just minutes after.

Months went by and despite spending a lot of time together, you started to lose hope of Soap seeing you romantically. If any, you felt a touch of resentment towards how oblivious he was. Inspired by some of your co-workers’ success, you tried online dating instead in hopes of finding someone who would return your feelings.

The first time he heard the series of Tinder pings off your phone, his brows furrowed. He looked up from his journal to see you smiling at your phone.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Hmm?” You hummed as your typing continued.

“Who are you talking to?” he pressed on.

You were too distracted to notice the edge in his voice. “Oh, it’s a guy from Tinder,” you chirped, still not looking up from the screen.

He scoffed. “Tinder? Since when did you get that desperate?”

Your smiled dropped. The remark hit too close to home. You weren’t desperate; you just felt like a fool, kind of, for waiting around for someone so long. It took you a few seconds to finally look up. He was back on his journal, his face resting on his hand.

Trust Soap to make insensitive comments and take jokes too far, and of course, trust him to be the fucking idiot who would be blind to his sins. You didn’t have the energy to explain yourself to someone who didn’t want to listen, so you let him be. And that was how the crack sneaked up between the two of you. The quieter you were, the more he pestered you, which in turn made you withdraw more.

Knowing how much fun you had on these dates, even when none were fruitful, made him overwhelmingly insecure. Soap didn’t like it one bit, feeling replaced by these vague men he knew couldn’t compare to him, his jealousy bubbling over. It only took one good date for some guy to take you away from him.

But by God, Soap was a fucking idiot with unchecked anger and a crippling fear of rejection who didn’t know how to articulate his feelings. So of course he started demanding you to tell him who you were meeting and where, for safety purposes he said. You knew he was right though, having heard of the horror stories of dates gone wrong, so you told him if he was in town, or your other friends if he wasn’t.

One day, you saw someone one too many times for his insecurities to rise again. He wasn’t supposed to stick his nose up in your business, but it was too easy for him. He only had to take the modest information you gave him to the tech department on base and the poor guy’s life record was at his disposal within a few minutes. It turned out the bloke was a petty scammer who used a fake name. Soap was absolutely thrilled to bits at the discovery.

In the middle of your next date, Soap waltzed into the pub. “Hey, you. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, hi Johnny.” You eyed him sideways. He knew you’d be there. “Ah, Nathan, this is my friend Johnny.”

He nodded at your date who offered a hand instead. His smile was too smug for Soap’s liking, so he grabbed his hand far firmer than necessary - the near invisible wince satisfied him.

“Nice to meet ya, pal. Please don’t mind me. I’m waiting for a friend.” He plopped down next to you.

Nathan stared at him. “If I’m honest, I’d rather not be interrupted on my date.”

It seemed like Soap got on his nerves with the handshake. Yes, Soap was a fucking menace and he knew it full well.

“Terribly sorry, mate, but he should be here soon.” He turned to you. “Remember Theo, the coppa? He just got a lead on a local scammer.”

You chuckled. “That seems like sensitive information. Don’t think you should be telling me.”

“Yeah, no, but I feel you need to know since the guy’s been going bonkers on Tinder.”

“Sorry mate, would appreciate it if you could just find your own table,” Nathan interjected, the smile gone.

“Assertive lad, I respect that.” He nodded, getting off his seat. “Sorry to bother. Guess I’ll just meet him elsewhere then.” Soap looked at Nathan dead in the eye. “Anyway, the bastard’s called Randy Wilson, so if you ever catch him, run the other way.” He caught the twitch of his right eye.

Soap left out the front door but rounded the place, leaning against the wall opposite the back door. Within 10 minutes, exactly like he’d predicted, the door swung open.

Soap uncrossed his arms, stomping towards your date with an amused grin. “Oi, Nathan! Any chance you know where I can find Randy fuckin’ Wilson? He owes me two dozen broken ribs.”

The asshole couldn’t hide his terror at the sight, smugness long gone.

“Ugh, saw the bloke out the back door,” Soap said moments later with a grimace.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” you replied. “A muppet for leaving me to pay for his drinks though.”

Soap paid for the bastard’s part of the tab before walking you home.

“Oh, Johnny? I know you’re not meeting fucking Theo. He lives on the other end of the city.” You gave him the side eye, an amused smile on your lips. “I know you were dead bored and just love to annoy me.”

He looked back with a shit eating grin.

“Can’t be mad at you this time though.” You huffed. “Guess he’s the jealous, alpha male kind of guy after all. He’s hot and he knows it. Probably controlling if we ever get serious. Wouldn’t have known if you didn’t show.” You shrugged. “Oh well, guess I dodged a bullet. But you’re not crashing any of my dates anymore, okay?” You poked the middle of his chest.

Little did you know, Soap started looking into every guy you were seeing – Randy was too much of a close call. Thankfully, he didn’t have to intervene because no one lasted more than two dates, but most importantly no one was dodgy.

Except for one other bastard.

Feedback and constructive criticism are welcomed

Unofficial taglist:

@sofasoap @ceilidho @thewizardarson @liyanahelena

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #soap cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #soap #possessive soap #soap mactavish #cod fanart #call of duty mw2

[heart2beom]

⭒ ⋆ welcome to my blog!! i attempt to write silly little fics for my ults? which is txt! my main inspiration lie in early 2000s romcom movies with silly tropes and very...unnatural progression. still, they're enjoyable and fun! which is exactly what i hope my writing serves to be for you!

📁 ; send me a doodle ^^

HEART2BEOM MASTERLIST!

⎯ 🖇️ wonder what i'll post? check out my wip!

⎯ 🖇️ 700 event!

💭 f; fluff a; angst c; crack/comedy m; mature ★; personal fave

┆彡 YEONJUN

╰┈➤ cliché . (f, c) ⎯ 3.6k words

after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.

or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.

╰┈➤ open the door, mr. choi! . (c, a)

going up to yeonjun's dorm, the man you believe to be a complete tool, and asking to use his shower isn't very fun.

┆彡 SOOBIN

╰┈➤ how to tame a fake blonde . (c, f, m) ⎯ 5k+ so far

a romcom office series; in which you're a huge romantic at heart but the shitty men you attract leaves you with countless failed relationships. then, you meet choi soobin. in an elevator. he isn't interested in you, he finds you annoying, and he clearly has zero respect for you, so why the hell are you so bent on making him like you?

┆彡 BEOMGYU

╰┈➤ a lost bet! . (f, c) ⎯ 2.2k words

you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.

╰┈➤ call you later . (c, f) ⎯ 3k+ words ★

beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street? you're in on the little fun too, until you manage to get soobin's number. because suddenly, beomgyu's a debbie downer—for whatever reason.

╰┈➤ colon and a parenthesis . (f, a) ⎯ 2.6k words

getting played has got to be the worst feeling ever. for you, you go through that heartbreak every other month. and now you're wailing on your best friend's shoulder again, for the hundredth time, ruining his hoodie. again.

┆彡 TAEHYUN

╰┈➤ second lead syndrome . (f) ⎯ 0.5k words ★

taehyun, your neighbor, has been helping you out with beomgyu, the best friend you've been in love with for your entire life. when you finally score a date, albeit taehyuns plan working, you're in crisis...because you start getting second thoughts.

┆彡 HUENINGKAI

╰┈➤ tba

HEART2BEOM FAQ!

⎯⎯💭 a made up faq to answer all the important questions

✰ do you accept requests?

half yes half no. i just don't make them my priorities, but i welcome any suggestions for inspiration purposes

✰ do you have a perm taglist?

nope, i don't plan on making one either.

✰ when will [insert fic] come out?

when it comes out!!! (dont believe me when i say theres a release date im a terrible procrastinator)

✰ do you write for other groups?

no, i'm only dedicated to writing for txt i

#heart2beom masterlist #pinned #in the works

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

swap au shit! i was holding off on this so i could line it and color it but i take too long with that and would never finish so here's just what i have. going just on my fandom blog until (IF) i line it coz its just doodles and a textwall of thoughts rn

fucked up harry on the far left is unrelated, and some of these look Bad but its fine tbh

anyways the idea is Kim loses his memories bc of drinking bc it's been six years and he still hasn't gotten over the death of his partner Eyes (who i've named Viorel). kim's still kim, trying to be professional and trying to do his job, but bc of the drink and drug issues he's a wreck and has a hard time keeping himself emotionally together. i don't think he'd swear as much, and being given a second chance (losing his memories and being allowed to start again) would allow him to loosen up and love life again and move on from the grief and sober up. before the memory loss, he's gotten so deep into his grief that he hates revachol and hates himself and hates the world. after the memory loss, he can start to love the world again, and it starts with harry showing up and being harry

the reason he looks different here is bc after eyes's death kim has no idea how to process it and does the only thing he can think of: become eyes. that if he becomes as cool as him, eyes doesn't have to be dead. also his bomber jacket's black (for mourning, i hc he gets the black one first before the orange one), and he hasn't been promoted to lieutenant yet bc he was too fucked up. he also hasn't figured out he's gay (neither has harry figured out he's bi)

eyes for reference (right image unrelated, put it there so the left image isn't that hugelarge. that's my cat rose)

bc while harry is sober and medicated now, harry's still harry. silly. strange methodology for solving cases. can-opener. an uncanny ability to pick up on thoughts

bc Harry on the other hand, after going through that horrendous breakup with Dora, gets serious medical help for his issues and is now on meds and sober and in therapy. in this au, revachol would have mental health doctors haha. harry's been jean's partner for 4 years now and they're really tight i think. jean also had breakup issues, and harry helped him through that and now they have a promise to each other they'll stay sober. it's still almost toxic levels of codependent, but i dont think theyre romantically involved here bc the drugs didn't get that bad for the both of them to push them in that direction (i don't think jean would EVER do anything gay without drugs or alcohol, he's just that kinda' guy. phobic). harry still has all his skills bc he's had them since he was born

so basically theyre the same guys but if kim never got over eyes's death while harry got over dora leaving him. i wanna write a fiction about this but it seems like such a difficult task fr

text transcript under cut

First Image: Kim: "I'll get to the case, Officer. Just let me do my job." Harry: Sargent, the body's still in the tree.

Second Image:

Top Left Kim: You look vaguely familiar. Your face is blurry. Do you need glasses? Where are they? What's your name anyways? Viorel. No that's not it. Is it? You look like a Viorel.

Bottom Left Harry: They sent you here to check up on the guy from the 57th. You know where he is. You haven't caught him yet. God you wish Jean were here to help.

Top Right Kim: Harry POV (of Kim short and smaller than him) Kim: I don't know who the fuck you are.

Kim POV (of Harry): Large Blurry Ape

Bottom Right Kim Harry: Harry: Sargent, do you need glasses? Kim: Fuck no, Lieutenant.

Third Image:

Harry: "God, Jean, he's getting me depressed. Jean: "Oh come on, Harry don't get all fucking sad again. I went sober for your fucking ass. Harry: It could've been me in his place, man... Jean (not pictured/over radio): SIGH. You're gonna' make me start drinking again, Du Bois.

#disco elysium #c4rg0f1l3s #disco elysium swap au #idk what is the tag for that haha #doodles #my art #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #jean vicquemare #jean cameo wooo #i might post my jean horse sketches later im ngl #yeah i think thats good for now okay releases this into the wild #idk if i need to put more of the text under the cut. but yeah #marfă din elysium

[walkman-cat]

i’ve gotta know abt ur little guy orpheus alabaster whats his deal,,, i keep seeing ur little doodles and tags and feeling curriiooooosiityyyyyyyy

HI PIP!!

orpheus alabaster my BOY !! he's so silly <3 (also this is going to be a LONGGG post so it's under a cut) (he's my little guy i've got a lot to say about him)

He's like the city equivalent of a world-famous detective (one half of a detective agency working out of the attic of a curiosity/antique shop in the oldest part of the city)– he's a household name, and is known for taking on pretty much every case that he comes across (except, curiously, the biggest unsolved mystery the city has ever seen). Basically, Orph is the detective of the gentleman thief-detective dynamic and the watsonian narrator-detective dynamic (i love detectives <3)

He's observant, and will not rest until he's solved the case (to his detriment), and would risk his life if it meant saving the lives of others (to his detriment). He's got a terrible memory (so he writes everything down in one of his numerous notebooks) and he's not great with people (he's trying, somewhat. Cecil's usually the one who talks to clients). He's always down to work around the law/the watch (the city's law enforcement). He's very nosy (Cecil also is, they're perfect for each other).

He's also basically all those memes that are like "kinda gay to be a detective [etc etc]". While his partner (Cecil– they started the detective agency together!) has been pining over him since pretty much when they met (6 years before the story starts), Orpheus fell much harder and discovered this in the past year (he's having a Great Time. demiromantic king !!). They're so silly and devoted to each other (they call each other "Mr. Alabaster" and "Mr. Meyers" theyre sickening) and it's a whole Thing.

Also! Orph's the new incarnation of the forgotten/illegal/dead god of deceit and dreams (he's a detective and also the patron god of thieves and liars wbwbwb– this amuses me greatly). He's got a complicated relationship with his identity and personhood (which may have something to do with him taking on faces and personas at the drop of a hat) and isn't quite sure if he counts as something alive anymore.

Also to do with the fact that he's a kinda-not-really dead god, Orpheus isn't quite alive; he's a believable fascimile of something living, but he doesn't bleed when cut, he's cold to the touch, and sometimes Cecil can swear that he isn't breathing. He died not too long before he arrived in the city (and has the ligature marks on his neck to prove it) and came back, but even though he'd love to have come back wrong he came back exactly the same as he was before.

Here are some extra/funky facts about Orph:

he plays the piano!! he doesn't do it often for reasons he's never told Cecil but he's very good at it and has played for him in the past

he wanted to be a poet when he was younger, and still sometimes jots lines down in between all his other notes

his hands are perpetually inkstained, his fingertips are nearly all blackened from ink

the only times he's been truly excited for his clientele to be some of the city's richest are for hermes vetch heists. they're also the only times he's happy to have not solved the case (he's got a soft spot for the thief and misses him greatly)(he keeps reminiscing about heists to kit's face without knowing kit is hermes vetch and it's so funny to me)

he's mixed race (this isnt very important story wise, but it's important to me (also mixed race)) (so's kit)

he's non-binary!! (he/him enby times!!)

he's also a trans allegory for reasons i will not go into (they contain secretsssss)

he wouldn't like to say he has a favourite method of murder, but it's poisons. he likes to have an excuse to infodump and show off his knowledge of poisons

he probably would look real nice if he put any effort in to how he looks. he doesn't, so he looks like if a cat got drenched then blow-dried and rolled in ink

he hates having anything touching his neck, especially if they're wrapped around his neck. he will suffer and be cold if he has to be

the only times he'd overcome his need to put others before himself is when cecil (and to an extent kit/hermes vetch) is in danger (they're his best friends !!)

he often stares unblinkingly when thinking. it's a wee bit intimidating

his family is basically just matchsticks kelly (the guy who owns the antique shop who took him in), and cecil (later it'll also include kit), he doesn't talk about his family

he's known about cecil's sleeping habits and tendency to clamber over the rooftops for 6 years and still gets jumpscared by him clambering into his window in the dead of night

#thankyou soso much pip for giving me an excuse to ramble about one of my favourite little guys <3 #he's got such wet cat energy #I love him so so much #eidolon vetch #orpheus alabaster #answered #chimeofthecomet

[angelicdonuts]

what was your first ps oc? what was their personality/design like?

(oh my god it's been my THIRD TIME having to rewrite ALL of this because I keep accidentally wiping it..BUT IM NO QUITTER!!! And 3rd times a charm!! :3)

THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ASKING THIS!! (feels silly having to type that for the 3rd time lol!)

After thinking through and having to write this multiple times now, I've come to the conclusion that my first Pico's School oc actually started out as just a concept, then became a fully fledged oc only after I already made a few others, but I think the title still goes to them!

As a concept, they were a spiteful ghost. Not sure why, where they came from, nor did I ever decide literally anything else about them. Their whole thing was that they were this spiteful ghost who was also kinda silly? All I really remember was that they liked messing with Pico and enjoyed the thought of everyone in the world meeting a horrible end? Strange, I know. But don't worry, it gets worse, LMAO!!

When I brought up the idea to my best friend and got a mixed review, I immediately dropped them out of embarrassment, just to bring them back to add something to another PS oc of mine who I made with a whole batch of them (All of which I still have and TREASURE because they all mean so much to me)

Their name is Noah, and their whole character (at least at the time since they're DRASTICALLY different now) was that they were super shy, EXTREMELY timid, and depressed. (And also dinosaurs!!) And remember the first oc I mentioned? Well, their name is now Glass, thanks to the same best friend, and their whole existence revolves around making Noah's life a living hell.

The whole story behind the two was that Noah got bullied when they were younger and obviously at a different school and got forced to go into the boiler room that was rumored to be haunted?? Henceforth, Noah got semi-possessed by Glass.

Nearly everything about Glass revolves around Noah, so it's a little hard to explain them by themself, but there are a few things about them that are particularly interesting.

Their silliness and spitefullness are now split into two completely different personalities, but both with the ultimate goal of getting Noah to 'self-destruct' (I swear its for a reason but GOD that sounds so bad to the point its funny) The spiteful side did so by telling them horrible things and just making Noah hate themself in general. The silly side did so by making sure that any peace Noah ever found never lasted by being atrociously annoying.

Also they shapeshift, because they can. And that's cool. So yeah!

They don't have an exact story behind why they are the way they are. They've gone from 'kid who got murdered' to 'ghost with no chill' to 'weird other dimensional being that wants humanity dead' to 'demon who wants to wreak havoc on mankind'.

And as of now, I don't know what to do with Glass, both in terms of character and appearance wise, since I really haven't worked on them whatsoever for what feels like years, and like I said I completely reworked Noah, character and all, and their entire existence revolves around them, so I think it's only right that I completely rework them and maybe even finally give them a solid backstory and character.

As for what they look like actually isn't too hard even if they do shapeshift since I gave them this sort of 'normal' or 'standard' form, which itself has two different versions depending on which personality is talking. Heres my most recent take on what they look(ed?) like (and I mean recent as in literally right now LOL):

I think it's obvious on its own but left side is 'meanie' right side is 'silly'

The pictures around the edge are OLD OOOLD doodles I've made of them (some of them have Noah's old designs in them too :3), but basically 'meanie' is pretty boring, but they do literally all of the shapeshifting, meanwhile 'silly' is ribbon-like? And they have a mouth and arms. Smaller differences are the cowlicks and whatever the hell you call that strand of hair in the middle of their face

Anywaysss! I could talk all about Noah and literally EVERYTHING about them, but that's probably for another time considering how long this already is!

#HOPE U HAVE FUN READING ALL OF THAT!!! #The autism is strong in this one #Both of their pronouns are they/them by the way #If u didn't catch that already lol #I LOVE PICO'S SCHOOL!!! #I looooooooooooooove them #Well in the way that I hate them but also because I'm their creator <3 #I LOVE MY OCS SO MUCH RAAAAUGGGHHHH <3<3<3<3<3 #guys please ask me more so I can yap more about the little people who live in my brain

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello my lovely loveliest dearest favorite quil <333 I have finally actually returned with a slight rebrand and many tales to tell.

How are you bestie!!! I missed you So SO much and it's literally so rude that I can't send you all of the things that make me think of you. Like I swear my partner is gonna be jealous at this point because I'm literally like omg I literally need to show this to quil. It is a necessity. (If you're wondering it was a hoodie that had the classic university logo and said Silly Goose University and I decided that we needed them to match with our friendship bracelets.)

Anyway I am eyeing your new writing up very very closely and am itching to go to Ao3 and read ALL of it. (The urge is quite strong now that I have started Thinking about it, however this ask is taking long enough bc I have to take Wiggle™ breaks because holy bestie I am SO happy to talk to you once again.)

Speaking of your writing I was struck with the most incredible fantastic amazing art idea after looking at some of my old wings AU doodles. However, my drawing tablet went through the shredder (<- Puppy) I have to WAIT. To give the full idea justice but trust me bestie I'm so excited to show it to you.

Anyway I've been extra ramble-y but HI HOW ARE YOU I MISSED YOU WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOUR LIFE.

I'd love all of your thoughts and feelings and I miss you and ily and I'm so happy like I kid you not this ask has taken. So much effort because I cannot sit still writing this to you. I have. The Dumbest Smile on my face. <3333333

(Please note that this ask is meant to be read as if I am laying on your bed kicking my feet in the air while excitedly talking, thank you 😌)

TOBI!!!! I was just thinking about you the other day!! My dad and I were watching Labyrinth for the first time in a while, and when I realized the baby's name was Toby (i'd forgotten) I just went...ah..Tobi...I hope he's doing well...

I'm doing alright! I've been very busy this semester, and we are approaching finals so it's probably only going to get busier soon. But! This has been my first semester mostly in person in a very long time! And I'm officially fully in uni rather than dual credit, so I'm somewhere else now and have met SO many people. Actually am planning to meet up with one of them tomorrow to go to a restaurant/museum for class! And to watch a few movies with two others sometime soon.

lots of reflections on that because relationships of all kinds have been. rather difficult my whole life, so we'll see what happens here! also would 100% wear some silly goose university hoodies with you <3. move aside tobi's partner I need to glue BOTH of his hands to mine. forever

Also!! If you read my fics I'll love you forever and ever and ever even more. This new titz one has been sitting for several months, but I finally pulled it back out! And I am rather nervous about it because Fitz and Tam are both particular characters, and so combining them just makes them even harder to write. and THEN! throwing in Fitz's Alvar feelings makes that EVEN MORE difficult. but! it was also an absolute delight to work on so I hope you like it :)

and holy shit wings au art!!! i trust you so much I am so excited to see it--and don't worry about however long it takes! wings au is years in the writing, i've got experience with patience. wait btw, I don't know if you're aware, but I'm attempting to post the epilogue soon! I have the rough draft and the anniversary is coming up, so I'm hoping to have it edited to post on the ending's anniversary. it's a little over a week away, but also finals are descending AND its nano, so we'll see what happens. it WILL be out by the end of the year for certain though (and during october I went through and re-edited the whole thing for grammar and details--it's ridiculous how many its it's mistakes there were because i KNEW the difference. i'd just autopilot do one or the other and not catch it in my quick edits)

I keep pausing to do little claps and stim because. tobi!!! it's so so cruel we can't lay in bed kicking our feet together, i have missed you so so so much! what has been up with YOU? how has your life been? what's up with the blog migration--if you want to talk about it. also totally cool to simply accept it and move on. i just like talking to you and it's very nice to see you again :)

#quil's queries #xanadaus #tobi tobi tobi tobi tobi tobi tobi toboi toiobtoi toibtio!!! #i would say more but there's so many thoughts that they've kinda all turned into white noise and actually there's no more thoughts #just excitement #and also I am a little tired. because of the busy #but!! very very happy to see you!! #long post

[forever-rogue]

Hi! Wondering if you’re gonna be taking prompts from the 360 you posted. If you are would you be able to do 36 and 54 with Din? Would love to see those with him!

Prompts used: 36. "Does he know about the baby?"

54. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: pregnant reader

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Boba?” you reached for the Mandalorian’s arm and stopped him from going any further into his new hold. You wondered, for an amused fraction of a second, if you should attempt to address him as King Boba, just to get a rouse out of him. But the severity, the harsh reality of your current predicament placated any desire to do so. Fett turned to face you, pulling his helmet off so he could see you properly, “might I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course,” he set the helmet down on the aging wooden table as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, “what’s wrong, little one?”

“I was wondering...once you and Fennec are settled and Din plans on leaving,” you found the ground intriguing as you studied the worn soles of your shoes before continuing on, “might I stay on? With the two of you? I-I know I’m not as skilled as either of you, but I swear I’ll pull my weight and do as much as I can - whatever you desire. I would just like to stay here.”

Boba paused for a moment as he looked you over and contemplated what you had asked him. He had no issue with you staying on, absolutely none, knowing you were both capable and a quick learner. It was the reason behind the sudden request that caused him to consider his words. As he watched you, and you grew increasingly nervous, a single tear, one of nerves and worry rolled down her cheek and fell to the sandy ground. 

“Of course you can stay,” his hand went to your shoulder as he delicately squeezed it in a sign of reassurance, “make sure your Mandalorian knows of your plan. It would be a great shock for him to be blindsided.”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about the baby?” he chanced his question, although he was sure he wasn’t too far off the mark. While he had no children of his own, he’d been around enough women to know when someone fell pregnant. Maybe the bounty hunter was extra perceptive, maybe it was a trait of the Mandalorians to all be nurturing and familial, but from the look on your face, he knew he was right on money. 

“How did you...I haven’t told anyone,” your eyes were wide with worry as you looked around to make sure no one had heard Boba. If Din were to ever find out, this would be the last way you wanted him to do so, “I-I found out two months ago and I just...I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and nervous and worried. I can’t just tell him - he’s got too much going on to worry about something else. I can’t do that to him.”

“You think it is a better idea to never tell him about his child and take away any decision he has in this?” ever the level headed negotiator, Boba had a point. Your lips pulled into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, “he deserves to know. Whatever decision he makes after that is up to him. It will tell you his true measure, although I am sure that is already quite apparent.”

“Boba, he’s the Mand’alor now,” you reached for his arm and held it tightly in your grasp, “I-I can’t have him worry about a silly thing like this. Especially not after...Grogu.”

“Tell me then, just what do you plan on doing with the babe?” it was a fair question to ask, and one you really needed to think about. The baby was going to come one way or another, so you would need a plan as quickly as possible, “were you going to have it and hide it? Hand it off to someone else? Raise it on your own and expect that he would never find out? He is your riduur-”

“And he is the Mandalorian and the Mand’alor,” you grew frustrated, not with Boba but with yourself. You knew he was right, you knew that you needed to tell Din but… it wasn’t that simple, “I can’t hold him back with a baby.”

“Suppose you don’t tell him,” Boba held up a hand for a moment as a musing glint entered his eye, “suppose you remain here and have ths child. Do you think he’s never going to come back to see you? Or for business? It would be awfully suspicious if he came in three or four months and found you round with child. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. It would be a greater pain, I think, if you were not to say anything and he came back to find the truth. You owe him at least some honesty.”

“You’re right,” you confessed quietly, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, “of course you are. I’m scared, Boba. I don’t want him to be angry and hate me or the baby. I don’t want to hold him back either. I want him to be happy…”

“He’d be a lot happier if you’d come to him with this first,” the voice startled you to your core as you realized exactly who it was. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes widened in worry as Boba offered you an encouraging nod. Turning on your heel, you found Din watching both of you with intent; his expression was almost unreadable as your hands started to tremble.

“How long have you been standing there?” what a stupid question from a stupid girl.

“Long enough,” his voice was pointedly neutral as you nodded in understanding, “I think we need to talk.”

“Yes,” you agreed as you shuffled over to him, preparing yourself for the worst. 

Din was silent as he led you back to the quarters that served as your temporary home while you’d helped Boba and Fennec settle into their new roles. You followed close behind and swallowed the lump in your throat as he sealed the door. 

“It is it true?” he asked softly as his gaze shifted to your belly; there was still no evidence of your pregnancy just yet. But soon enough there would be, “you’re with child?”

“Yes,” you admitted, a hand slowly coming to rest on your belly, “I am. I found out…”

“Two months ago,” he finished for you as you nodded, “and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I was scared and nervous, Din!”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked softly as you refused to meet his eyes, “Cyare?”

“I wanted to,” you whispered, “I planned on it-”

“When?!”

“Eventually,” you’d seen your husband angry before, but never quite like this...never at you, “I was scared and I panicked and there was so much happening at once.”

“You were scared?” he asked as you nodded. Din stepped closer and stopped in front of you, looking at you curiously as he realized just how hard this was for you as well, “were you scared of me?”

“No,” you grabbed his hand and quickly cut him off, “never of you. It was just everything all at once. With losing...him, everything with the Mandalorians and Boba and Fennec. There could not have been a worse time for this to happen. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“You’re sorry?” a look of confusion marred his features as his eyes softened and crinkled in the corner, “whatever are you sorry for? In case you forgot, this didn’t happen just because of you. It takes two...nothing in life seems to go to plan, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t have to work out, Cyare. You are my riduur and that is our child.”

A large hand found your belly as he pulled you into him, wasting no precious time before he wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him back, just as tightly, just as fiercely, clinging onto him like it was the only thing in life that mattered, “I should have told you sooner, please forgive me, Din. I should have come to you first…”

“I’m glad I found out,” he whispered as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of your head before pulling back and cradling your face in his hands, “before something else happened or we were separated. I’m not mad, I’m happy - really happy. It doesn’t matter that the timing isn’t perfect or we’re in a different situation than we thought we might be. I’m happy, Cyare. I love you beyond measure, and that includes our whole family - Grogu, and whatever other children we’ll have.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he agreed, “I hold you in my heart forever - you are my home, my heart, my family. We’ll figure this out together, I swear. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Din.”

“Don’t stay here,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, “stay with me.”

“Yes,” your smiled against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the Mandalorian #the Mandalorian x reader

[neonponders]

Here’s part 1 and the soulmates comic that inspired all this.

I’d also like to thank the Harringrove community for giving me mutuals who enable the worst best part of me 💞 You’re all fantastic 💗

• • • • • • •

Steve’s teeth clenched as his shoulder blades hit the brick walls of the alley between the gymnasium and school building.

Their English class was only two doors down from an exit, and Billy Hargrove, of all people, gripped Steve’s jacket the moment he passed out of the classroom door, and hauled his ass outside.

Now Steve had a face full of California freckles that made the accompanying blue eyes look like tropical waters. Billy had been a menace ever since he got to this town, and all of Hawkins’ fields didn’t leave enough room for the both of them, apparently. Shoving Steve around during gym. Parking next to him like the noise of his frigging Camaro would eclipse the humble BMW’s existence.

Billy released him but stayed crowded in his space as he ordered, “Get a pen.”

“What?”

“A pen, Harrington. I know you have one.”

Yeah, I just failed a test with it, he thought bitterly, but he’d also been using it to talk to Billy Freaking Hargrove all morning. He pulled it out of his binder and bit the cap to push the end into it -

“OW. Don’t - ” Steve shoved him back a step, interrupting the zagged line Billy was scoring into his hand. Into Steve’s hand. “ - press that hard. Jesus Christ.”

He waved said hand in front of Billy’s face. “It’s real, all right? It’s me. It’s me! What? Did you expect to be taller than me or some - ”

Steve’s head knocked the brick this time when Billy shoved him back, fisting his shirt to the point of stretching the fibers

And kissing Steve’s mouth like he had the water in a desert.

Everything Billy did was aggressive, so he supposed this shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but 

But the stubble scraping against Steve’s chin sent sparks launching down his spine. Soft lips with a little edge of teeth, and Billy’s warmth radiating through their shirts into Steve’s chest...

He tried to lean forward, to adjust the kiss, to give his neck some space, but Billy caged him in. Steve’s nose pressed into his cheek and his hands found Billy’s denim jacket to get his own grip and shoved Billy back by his own kiss.

But the guy who doodled on his body, an artist who couldn’t eat cake and liked authors who waxed romantically - Steve’s special person - was a slab of muscle dressed in denim and leather. He held onto Steve’s front while his other hand framed his jaw and man-handled him back into place.

“Billy,” Steve tried. He stopped just shy of Steve’s mouth, like he intended to claim Steve’s oxygen as well as his space. “Gimme some space. There are bricks back here.”

Steve registers Billy’s pretty, long, long and pretty lashes moving before he sees the expression behind them. The look Billy has. Like he’s deciding between one type of aggression and another.

“You’ve been in my skin for years. You can handle some bricks.”

He starts kissing Steve again, and for all the good he’s giving, he gets spittle and laughter in return. When he finally retreats back to those millimeters of space, Steve giggles, “You’re so conceited, I swear to god.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“I thought you were so sweet. Always drawing me things.”

“I have my moods.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Steve laughed breathily and pivoted his face before Billy could kiss him again. He wedged his jaw beside Billy’s neck and held onto the back of his jacket as he made the guy carry his weight.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.”

“I always knew you were a sap.”

Steve smiled a little even if Billy did not see it. He leaned his head into Billy’s, feeling the soft pillow of his hair, the curve of his ear. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. I’m glad I did.”

Like Billy’s marking on his skin, Steve listened to his silence but felt his fingertips drawing on his backside.

And if Steve expected Billy to relax or be nicer to him

He was dead wrong.

Billy got worse.

Steve had been told more than once that he was needy, touchy-feely, thrived on attention, but Billy was something else. Steve woke up with a full rose drawn on his forehead. He was almost late to school from washing it off. Then Billy stole his lunch. Outright took Steve’s tray off the table and went who-knows-where; Steve had to get back to world geography class or he’d fail the class for too many skips.

Then came gym. Word had clearly spread that Steve and Billy were spoken for, and Steve had never witnessed teenage boys shower faster in his life. Steve glanced around, just now moving his soap bar over his arm while Billy smirked fondly at him from under his own nozzle. "For no reason, have you ever done anything sexy in public?"

"Ate a girl out during a homecoming game."

That knocked Billy's features down a notch, and Steve laughed, "I'm not blowing you in these disgusting bathrooms."

Billy scoffed and twisted his water off. "I guess it should've landed that you were a prude when you had to be somewhere without markings on your body."

Steve flicked his eyes at the ceiling, because Billy was hot - a fact he already knew, but now he had hours of experience writing all over that rippling skin. And Billy’s hair curled really pretty when it was wet.

Steve liked to practice decency, okay.

He did let his gaze drift and fall to land on him, though, when he replied, “I have standards. High ones. Maybe stop complaining and consider yourself fortunate.”

Billy lingered for a while longer, just absorbing that before strolling out of the communal shower.

Billy definitely got worse.

Grinding pens into his hand until Steve threw himself out of bed in the middle of the night to turn his light on and read: Come outside. Pool. 

And yeah, Steve marched his ass downstairs in his slippers and robe because it was his own damn house and he liked soft things. And because he genuinely didn’t know if Billy would or would not throw a rock at his window if he didn’t get dressed fast enough.

Billy had already found the control panel and turned the pool lights on. He took lethargic steps around the water as Steve slid the glass door closed and crossed his arms. “You know, I’m all for staying up late, but not for my sleep being interrupted.”

Billy ignored that to kneel down and wave a hand through the water. “Didn’t know you had a pool.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a bed too. You wanna use it?”

Billy laughed and stood back up - to start removing his clothes. “I want to go swimming first.”

Steve exhaled tiredly and let his face fall into his hands. “Billy, why am I out here?”

He got his answer in the form of Billy gripping the sash around his waist. He didn’t undo it, but pulled so Steve’s hips lurched forward. “What’s under this?”

“My tired ass that wants to sleep so I can keep up with the new kid in Hawkins.”

Billy chuckled and slipped his hand inside the folds. Steve bowed a little against the cooler hand wandering his bare skin. Cradling his naked waist. “What’s he like?”

“The wrong kind of pain in my ass.”

He’d caught Billy off guard with that one. Billy coughed a laugh and his chuckles dwindled as he let his perusal of Steve’s body loosen the robe. Then he pulled Steve to him so his mouth could press slow kisses over the slope of his shoulder. Steve’s head fell back when those lips found the tiny moles on his throat.

Steve’s arms encompassed him and he felt the familiar, soft press of Billy’s ear against his cheek. “I’m tired.”

“I want to swim.”

“You’re already naked. Go ahead.”

“You can’t think you’re going back inside without getting wet.”

“And you’re not getting in bed with me before rinsing in the shower. We’re both high maintenance.”

Steve swam in the pool.

Billy wore his robe and slippers into the house.

They showered together and, to Steve’s delight, Billy snuggled in close without putting his damp hair on Steve’s chest. The latter fell asleep with a large arm over his diaphragm and ocean breaths in his ear.

Steve woke up to the wet sensation of Billy drawing on his chest with his markers. Instead of opening his eyes, Steve mumbled, “If you’re drawing more penises...”

Billy hummed with mirth. “Just some unicorns humping each other.”

Steve earned a yelp when he reared up and tackled Billy to the bed. He kissed him silly and tasted his soul mate’s skin in his own bed. He made Billy’s hair a fluffy nightmare by the time he was through, and licked and sucked all of his muscles into jelly before he went to the bathroom to relieve himself...

Two birds under his collarbones framed a script spanning over his chest.

I can’t say sweet things. But you are beautiful.

#harringrove #neonponders #ficlet #soul mates!au #i'm sorry for the lack of detail and plot #it's a wonder it got this long lol #but leave it to steve to blow billy's brains out #and not notice what is on billy's chest to gauge what he'd find in the mirror later #thank you so much for everyone's super sweet reception of part 1!

[oh-for-merlins-sake]

WAR | gw

a/n: hi all! this is my first stab at a george weasley x reader fanfic and i hope you like it! i had oodles and oodles of fun writing it and i can’t wait to write more. feedback is always appreciated (if anyone’s happened to find this)! i would be profoundly honored to dedicate this piece to @ickle-ronniekins who i’ve been secretly reading for months now, and who’s inspired me to start writing again! cheers! x

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: mild swearing, mild teenage angst.

┈┈┈┈

“If Wood snaps at me one more time about that stupid bloody bludger I missed, I may just whack him off his broom with one,” George grumbled, scooping a spoonful of porridge into his bowl.

“You’d think we were playing for the World Cup the way he’s been acting,” Fred complained.

Gryffindor was fresh off a losing Quidditch match with Slytherin, which did not sit well with their captain, Oliver Wood. Granted, it was Wood’s final year as Captain, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the House Cup was a life-or-death matter as he’d been treating it. Much to his team’s dismay, this meant that he was particularly critical of every minute mistake and trivial trip-up.

As the twins grumbled and griped about Wood and his overbearing spirits, Marcus Flint, Slytherin captain, strode into the Great Hall, boasting about their recent victory.

“As if Wood needed something else to set him off,” Fred said with a dramatic eye roll.

Flint continued arrogantly prattling on near the entrance, making sure that every student who made their way in that morning could hear all about the knockout game they’d had.

“Wish there was a way to shut him up,” Fred continued.

As Wood defiantly stood from the table to storm over to Flint and share a piece of his mind, inspiration struck George.

“Oh Freddie boy, there surely is a way!” He grinned mischievously before whipping around and aiming a quiet Langlock jinx at Flint.

Just as the spell shot from the tip of his wand, Flint rushed over to the Slytherin table at the beck and call of his girlfriend, causing the jinx to fire at an unsuspecting, innocent victim: you.

George felt his insides twist and turn at the sight of you grasping for your mates in a pure state of panic.

“George!” Fred scolded.

“I wasn’t trying to hit her, you prat!”

“Well, fix it!”

“I don’t know how!”

You clawed at your mouth in a desperate attempt to translate your current predicament to your mates now that your tongue was currently locked against the roof of your mouth. As your mates whirled around you in confusion, you spotted the flustered twins as they bickered relentlessly and poorly obscured their gestures towards you. You violently pointed in their direction in an accusatory fashion, which your mates understood without hesitation.

If looks could kill, they would’ve been murdered on the spot.

“You barbaric prats!” Your best mate shrieked before escorting you to the hospital wing.

Fred and George grimaced at one another and gulped down their fears of what was to come.

┈┈┈┈

“I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning, have you?” George anxiously asked Fred as they crept into the Great Hall.

“I haven’t,” he confirmed, claiming a spot at their table. “If she comes after us, I will kick your arse into next week, understood?”

George repeatedly scanned the room for you as he fidgeted with the toast on his plate. He was much too fretful to consume even a single bite of breakfast.

When he’d finally decided that you might not be coming to breakfast that morning (perhaps you were still in the hospital wing?), he gave up and dug in. It wasn’t until Fred dropped his utensils with a loud clang that George snapped his head up to find you barreling into the Great Hall with a look of fury and determination.

“Shit!” Fred and George immediately scrambled for their book bags, cursing at one another to hurry up already!

“You pathetic little morons!” You picked up the pace and brandished your wand. “Opuggno!”

You sent gargantuan heaps of porridge hurdling out of their bowls and in their direction. As they each made a frantic attempt to dodge the porridge, they accidentally collided with one another, setting them in perfect place for your attack.

“I’m going to bloody murder you, George,” Fred grumbled as porridge began seeping into every crevice of his body.

George wiped the goop out his eyes to find you hovering over them, wand still at bay.

“I dare you to jinx me again — see what happens,” you threatened.

George stammered for a response but couldn’t seem to find the proper words.

“That’s what I thought,” you stated triumphantly.

You swiftly turned on your heel, strutting towards your friends who were jovially applauding your attack.

“You chose the wrong one to jinx, mate,” Fred spat, climbing to his feet.

“It was an accident!” George exclaimed in exasperation.

“Which is what your death will look like once I’m done with you!”

┈┈┈┈

“Y/N, do you really want to spend your time this year vigilantly fending them off? I think they’ve been punished enough, don’t you?” Your best mate, Caroline, complained as the train pulled into Hogsmeade.

Truth be told, she was probably right.

The remainder of your fifth year was spent casting foul looks at the twins whenever they approached you, and — okay, maybe you sent another jinx or two their way since the porridge fiasco, but you were quite frightened when they jinxed you! You weren’t familiar with the Langlock jinx; you almost thought someone was suffocating you! Not to mention the awful feeling of Madam Pomfrey un-sticking your tongue, or the dreadful side effect of altered taste that lasted a month after.

One thing that retained its sweet taste, however, was revenge.

But perhaps Caroline was right. After all, they’d certainly been walking on eggshells around you since then. It was highly unlikely they’d cause you any more trouble.

You sighed, hauling your trunk off the train. “I guess you’re right.”

The two of you claimed a carriage up to the school grounds, happy to breathe in the fresh, crisp air after the exhaustingly long train ride in.

“You don’t think I was too hard on them, do you?” You asked.

“Well,” Caroline said as the carriage rolled along the path, “Perhaps a tad.”

“All right, I’ll bloody apologize,” you decided.

“Good! You’ll feel much better once you do!”

Shortly upon arrival, you noticed Fred and George hopping out of the carriage that sat a few ahead of yours, and you figured now might be the best time to end this war before they fled too far away.

“Weasley!” You called, cautiously approaching them.

They simultaneously whipped their heads to face you, eyes widening at your presence.

“Relax, I’m not gonna hex you,” you chuckled.

“To what do we owe the pleasure then?” Fred asked, sternly crossing his arms.

“I wanted to apologize,” you mumbled, glancing up at each of them sheepishly.

“Well, well, well, would you look at that, Georgie! She’s come to apologize,” he teased.

“Oh, just shut up and listen,” you laughed. “I’m really sorry for all of those... gratuitous spells...”

“Oh, you mean like the time you glued my shoes to the floor?” George recalled.

“Or the time you jinxed my quill to bite me during Charms?” Fred reminded.

“Yes, exactly that... I’m sorry,” you said. “Truce?”

They glanced at one another and playfully pondered your request.

“I dunno, Freddie, should we give her another chance?” George asked, a grin tugging at the edge of his lips.

Fred tapped his chin with his index finger and contorted his face in feigned contemplation.

“Hurry up, won’t you — before I change my mind!”

“All right, all right — truce,” Fred decided, shaking your hand.

“Truce,” George echoed, doing the same.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders as you all laughed at your previous antics and wandered up the hill with Caroline (who was also quite relieved at the reconciliation).

“For the record,” Fred said, “I never jinxed you. That was all sweet Georgie here!” He ruffled George’s hair with his knuckles.

“Thanks, you prat,” George hissed, shoving Fred off of him.

You laughed and poked George in the ribs. “It’s okay! We’re starting over, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Starting over.”

┈┈┈┈

As the months trickled by, you found yourself spending an increasing amount of time with Fred and George. Whether they were intruding on your late-night study sessions in the library, (“Would you put that bloody book down already!”) or you were all in a fit of laughter by the Black Lake, you genuinely enjoyed their company and couldn’t believe it took you this long to do so.

Despite your growing friendship with Fred, something just clicked with you and George. He often snuck food out of the kitchen for you during those late-night study sessions; and he’d make sure you made it to Herbology before scurrying off to Transfiguration (often resulting in a late arrival); he’d also crumple up silly doodles of Snape during Potions and chuck them onto your desk.

One thing he hadn’t manage to do was ask you to the Yule Ball.

“Mate, you’ve got to ask her soon, or someone else will,” Fred urged.

It was blatantly obvious to Fred that his brother was head over heels for you — no question about it. He also felt quite confident that you felt the same; in fact, he’d likely bet a few galleons on it. Why George couldn’t muster the courage to simply ask you to the ball was beyond him.

So, there the two sat, bickering in the courtyard while you were busy finalizing your Charms essay in the library.

“I’m working on it, all right?” George retorted. “I just haven’t figured out how.”

“Oh, I see,” Fred began with a tinge of sarcasm, “Because saying, ‘Hey, Y/N, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me’ is simply unsatisfactory.”

George rolled his eyes, fiddling with the strap of his book bag. “I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing,” he murmured. “Don’t want to make things painfully awkward, y’know?”

“You mean in case she says no?”

George nodded as they made their way back into the castle.

“You’re bloody mad if you think she’d turn you down,” Fred said.

As they approached the library to scoop you up for Charms, they noticed you were already headed there with someone else.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Fred groaned as you turned the corner.

“Is that —”

“Pretty Boy Diggory...”

George was already sprinting to catch up, beckoning Fred to do the same.

“What did I tell you, Georgie,” Fred grumbled to himself.

By the time they could slow down and casually approach you, you were standing just outside of the classroom, giggling away with Cedric.

“I’ll see you later?” Cedric asked, a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Can’t wait,” you said softly.

He placed a kiss to your cheek before you bashfully ducked into the classroom.

George suddenly felt his stomach sinking to his feet. He thought he might churn if he looked at Cedric any longer. And was he imagining it or were his limbs actually going numb? Maybe he should crawl behind a statue, curl up into a ball, and stay there for the remainder of his education. Yes, that sounded quite appealing in this moment.

Cedric gleefully greeted the twins as he passed them on his way to class, “Morning!”

“Morning,” Fred mumbled, refusing to take his eyes off of George.

Fred nearly dragged George into class, who now sat at his desk, colorless, emotionless, and utterly defeated.

You swiveled around in your chair to face them, waving excitedly.

If you were being honest, you had desperately hoped that George would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball by now, given that there were only a few days left. Once you’d realized that he wasn’t going to ask you (what a foolish thought that was anyways), you figured you might as well scout out other options. When Caroline had causally mentioned that Cedric couldn’t keep his eyes off of you in Herbology, you considered him a perfectly pleasant substitution.

But he wasn’t George.

You were fairly confused when the twins failed to eagerly return your greeting, but you didn’t have much time to ponder that before Professor Flitwick began his lesson.

You slowly turned back around, quite befuddled at their behavior.

Had you done something wrong?

┈┈┈┈

“Quit your worrying — you look beautiful!” Caroline gushed as the two of you skipped down the stairs.

“Thanks,” you said, squeezing her around the shoulder, “So do you!”

You gently lifted the hem of your deep indigo dress as you carefully descended the last of the steps. You straightened the sheer, sparkly layer of tulle that gracefully sat atop your dress and scanned the room for George.

You knew you ought to be looking for Cedric, but George had been acting rather odd since that day in Charms — almost like he’d been avoiding you.

Fred still sat with you by the Black Lake after class, swapping sweets with you, and even tackled his Transfiguration homework with you one night in the library. But encounters with George seemed few and far between since then.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it may have been the result of something you’d been dreading: he’d found his date to the Yule Ball, and they’d been inseparable since.

Cedric called your name, snapping you back to reality.

“You look stunning,” he said, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

You blushed and returned the compliment, coyly glancing around the room for any sign of Fred or George. You spotted Fred with Angelina making their way into the Great Hall and — there! You caught another head of fiery red hair ambling along beside of him.

Thankfully, Cedric had been momentarily distracted by a few of his mates to notice you standing on your tippy toes in a failed attempt to catch sight of whom George was with.

“Shall we?” Cedric asked, extending his arm for the taking.

You absent-mindedly intertwined your arm with his as he escorted you into the Great Hall. It was only during your opening dance with Cedric that you laid eyes on George’s date: Katie Bell.

You subconsciously frowned as you noticed George was far too preoccupied with the floor in front of him to notice you in your pretty gown, hair flowing behind you, twirling around — all in an effort to impress him. What was worse was the fact that Katie was practically sitting on him with how close she was... barf.

Before you knew it, minutes had turned into hours, and you were considerably exhausted by Cedric toting you around, introducing you to this person and that one. Keeping up a cheerful attitude while George danced around the room with someone else was particularly draining. But a Triwizard champion had no business mingling with a mope! So you kept up appearances.

But if Cedric spun you in one more circle, you thought you might just lose your dinner.

Unbeknownst to you, George would’ve agreed with your internal thoughts. He too was exhausted; exhausted by Katie’s constant, mindless chatter and her forced laughs at any and every comment he made. And as if watching you fawn over Cedric for the past few hours wasn’t bad enough, it didn’t boost his spirits to listen to Fred snapping at him every chance he got, practically begging George to intervene.

When you noticed Angelina and Katie heading for the girl’s room, you excused yourself from Cedric and his mates.

George was going to talk to you, damn it.

As you swiftly approached their table, Fred kicked George underneath and blurted, “She’s coming this way!”

“Fred, George! Fancy seeing you here!” You exclaimed in an overly cheerful tone.

You plopped down into the chair beside of George and took a swig of your Butterbeer. He furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

“You look nice,” Fred complimented in an attempt to encourage George to say something similar.

“Thank you, Freddie, so do you,” you stated plainly.

An awkward silence ensued as George fiddled with his glass, avoiding eye contact.

You cleared your throat and tapped his shoulder. “How’s your night going, George?”

He seemed startled by your touch. He straightened up, pondering how to converse with you when he was so positively peeved by you prancing around with Cedric.

“Oh, it’s going fine,” he’d decided on. “Katie’s really wonderful — have you two met? I’m sure you’ve seen her around; very pretty, a little taller than you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s also a wicked Quidditch player! I know you said you’d like to hone your Quidditch skills sometime — sure she’d be chuffed to teach someone with zero experience. Also fairly sure she’s top of your Herbology class, so I guess you two must have met by now!”

“What are you playing at?” You snapped.

Fred’s eyes widened as he grabbed his glass and announced, “Going to get a refill!”

“What d’you mean?” George asked innocently.

“Yes, I’ve met Katie Bell, and yes, I know she’s wonderful. I’m sure that’s why you asked her,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“How’s your night going with Pretty Boy Diggory? Seems like a drag to me,” George sneered.

“It’s actually been quite lovely,” you lied. “Really knows how to treat a lady, I must say! You know, when he asked me, he gave me a sunflower, which is my favorite! He’s also very charming, and witty, too.”

“Well, I’m glad someone finally asked you,” he spat.

“Excuse me?”

“I was starting to worry you might never find someone!”

“Says the bloke who couldn’t score a date until the day before!”

Tears were welling up in your eyes and you begged them not to spill over. Just as you were about to deliver your next jab, Cedric made his way back to you.

“George,” he greeted with a polite nod before turning to you. “Thought we might sneak away to the gardens, love. What do you think?”

“I would love to!” You exclaimed defiantly. You tossed back your Butterbeer and slammed your empty glass on the table before placing a hard kiss to Cedric’s lips.

“Have a nice night, Georgie!”

If George had been thinking a little more clearly, if he hadn’t just had a tough row with you, he may have thought better than to do what he did next.

“Furnunculus!” He hissed, wand clearly aimed at Cedric.

You gasped as boils began erupting onto Cedric’s face, rapidly spreading down to his neck. You turned to see George storming out of the Great Hall, tucking his wand into his robes. You quickly dragged Cedric out into the corridor.

“Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix you right up, dear. I’m so sorry about this!”

It was quite difficult for Cedric to do anything other than moan in agony as you escorted him to the hospital wing.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey assured you that Cedric would be well in no time, you made your way back down to the Great Hall, only to find that the festivities were wrapping up. You spotted George sulking up the stairs with Fred and practically leapt up the steps towards him.

Once you were close enough, you spun him around to face you.

His eyes widened as you whipped out your wand and said tearfully, “This is the last time you ruin my day with a stupid jinx.”

Before George could say anything, you ambushed him with a gnarly Bat-Bogey hex. Tears streamed down your face as he flailed around.

Fred sighed at you. “Can’t you two just grow up already?”

You pushed past him and sprinted down the stairs. You felt like the oxygen in your body was slowly leaking out of you; you desperately needed fresh air. As you burst into the courtyard, you collapsed onto a bench with no one to cry with but yourself.

Your ears were ringing violently, and you felt dizzy and helpless as you tried to catch your breath. This is not how you’d envisioned your night.

You wanted nothing more than to fall into George’s arms and to confess to him how you’d felt — how you’d felt for the past few months now. You wanted to tell him how the only thing you could think of the entire night was how you’d give a thousand galleons to be the one twirling around with him instead of Katie. How dreadfully boring you found Cedric compared to him. How sorry you were that you didn’t wait for him.

You were heartbroken and alone.

You weren’t sure if the two of you would ever recover.

┈┈┈┈

“He’s staring again,” Caroline mumbled.

“Well, staring won’t get him very far, will it?” You said, twiddling with your quill as you flipped through your Herbology notes.

Christmas break was over, and it was time to get ready for your N.E.W.T.s, so whenever you had a free moment to brush up on your studies, you took advantage of it.

Caroline had pointed out several times during this train ride how often George would glance your way and seemingly battle with himself about coming over to talk to you.

After the Yule Ball, the two of you made it a point to avoid each other. While at surface value it seemed that you two were avoiding each other out of spite, truthfully, you were both avoiding each other out of sheer embarrassment. You both knew you’d overreacted, and you both knew you should’ve just come to terms with your feelings for one another right then and there. But no, just as Fred had implied, you’d both acted rather childishly.

The remainder of that year saw Fred and Caroline constantly devising ways to get you and George to talk to one another, but each attempt was met with failure.

That summer felt awfully empty without George, even if Fred had mentioned him in a letter every now and then.

When neither of you initiated conversation during the first half of your final year, you became increasingly anxious at how long you’d have to cope with the consequences of your immature behavior.

“What do you expect him to do, Y/N?” Caroline asked.

“I dunno,” you earnestly replied, “I guess I just want him to be honest with me. I’m tired of this ridiculous back and forth and tip-toeing around what could be.”

“Well, were you ever honest with him?”

You loved Caroline, but sometimes you despised her brutal honesty.

“No,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Well, all right then.”

Just as you resumed your light reading, you noticed your quill transforming in your hand. You gazed at it in confusion and watched in awe as it slowly became a beautiful, bright sunflower.

Caroline chuckled lightly as the heat rushed to your face. You glanced up at George, who peered at you apologetically from his seat and bashfully waved at you.

You couldn’t resist breaking out into a ridiculous grin as you warmly waved back.

George let out a small laugh as you turned back to Caroline.

“That seemed pretty honest to me,” she triumphantly stated.

“Oh, hush, you,” you giggled.

Once classes resumed, your time was fairly consumed by your studies. You rarely saw George outside of Charms, and that wasn’t exactly a prime spot for conversation, given that this year you were practically sprinting from the greenhouse to get to Charms on time. You often tried to catch him in the Great Hall or in the corridor, but your schedules outside of Charms seemed so misaligned.

But, boy, did you long to talk to him.

Every once in a blue moon, you’d find another sunflower mysteriously appearing on your desk, or on top of your book in the library, or quite literally replacing your breakfast plate. You began viewing these occurrences as George’s way of communicating with you when your schedules seemed hell-bent on keeping you apart.

When you finally enlisted in Dumbledore’s Army, the universe sang in celebration.

It wasn’t until your first meeting that you realized you might actually stand a chance of sitting down and having a conversation with him. Maybe not during the meeting, but certainly on the way out!

After an exhilarating lesson, you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’d successfully conjured a Patronus and expertly countered some spells that Caroline sent barreling your way. There was only one thing that could make this even better.

“George!” You called to him as he began shuffling out of the room.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to you with his jaw slightly slacked. He playfully pointed to himself, turning around then back again. “Are you talking to me?”

You laughed lightly, which he returned. You cautiously approached him, struggling to make eye contact.

“Listen, George — ”

“Y/N, I — ”

You both laughed again.

“Go ‘head,” you said.

The last few stragglers made their way out of the Room of Requirement until it was just the two of you. Even Fred and Caroline had long gone.

“Y/N... I’m really sorry about... well, about everything...” There was a hint of sadness in his voice that you’d never heard before.

“George — ”

“No, really. I’m sorry I acted like such an arse last year. It’s just, when I saw you with Cedric — ”

It felt weird hearing his name now.

“I felt sick. I had always known that you were different — that you were special. But I never fully acknowledged that until I saw him kissing you in the hallway. I wanted to evaporate into thin air and pretend I’d never existed. I couldn’t bring myself to even come within a few meters of you because it just felt like a wicked punch to the gut.”

You frowned in sympathy. If only he’d known how you’d felt.

“And then at the Yule Ball,” he continued, “Blimey, did you look bloody beautiful. I’d never seen anything so angelic in my life. And to see that tainted by him gushing over you and parading you around nearly killed me. I would’ve given anything for you to be dancing with me instead.”

“George — ” You tried to speak again.

“Please, let me finish,” he begged. “I acted like a right prat that night. I was angry that he’d beaten me to the punch. I was angry that you’d ended up with him and not me. I let my anger overwhelm my senses and thought that maybe if I made you feel just as angry as I’d felt, that maybe you’d realize I’d been there all along. But instead, it was a pathetic idea, and instead I made you feel small. And Merlin, Y/N, I don’t ever want to see you look at me that way again — not in my whole life.”

He gripped your shoulders, and you were worried he might be able to hear your heart pounding in your chest, begging to burst from inside of you and profess its love once and for all.

“All I care about is what makes you happy. And if that was him, then I should’ve let it be. I’m sorry about what happened, I’m sorry I can’t bring him back, but Y/N... I would give up everything I own — which I know doesn’t seem like much — just to make you happy. If I have to conjure up a thousand sunflowers every day for the rest of my life just to see you smile, then you’ll never go a day without one.”

Your head was reeling and you could have sworn the room was spinning profusely around you. You clutched his hands on your shoulders for balance and felt a single tear roll down your flushed face.

“George, I’m so, so sorry,” you blurted out as you began to cry.

His body collided with yours as he embraced you with the force of a million supernovae bursting through the universe.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated, burying your face into his chest.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away. “No, George, I need you to know — I would’ve given everything to be your date that night. Day in and day out, I daydreamed about what it would be like to be your date to the Yule Ball. I desperately wanted to go with you... but as it got closer and closer, I gave up. I went with the first person who asked me, and I am so sorry. I should’ve waited for you!”

George gently held the sides of your face, wiping your tears away.

“And those things I said about him,” you continued, “I only said them because I was hurt that Katie Bell got to dance with you and hold you and laugh with you, and I wanted nothing more than do those things myself. I didn’t feel anything for him, George! I only wanted you. And I’m sorry that I hexed you after that, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner — ”

Before you could utter another word, George crashed his lips onto yours, and you nearly melted in his arms. As your lips moved in synchrony, fireworks exploded in your heart and a symphony of bliss echoed inside your head. This was the feeling you’d been yearning for; this was the little piece of your soul that had been missing; this was you and George Weasley and nobody else; this was pure, unadulterated, head-over-heels love.

You both laughed as you peppered kisses across each other’s lips.

“Is this our formal peace treaty, Weasley?” You teased.

He pressed another kiss to your lips before biting his lip in thought. “Bound by one condition, I suppose.”

“And may I ask what that condition might be?” You giggled.

“Be my girlfriend, yeah?” He murmured against your lips.

“Oh, all right!”

George draped his arms around your waist, scooping you up as he continued indulging in the sweet taste of your kisses.

It seems as though two of you did recover.

The war was over.

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #fred and george #fred and george weasley #weasley

[getitinbusan]

The Music Room -

Min Yoongi 18+ Smut

Part of the Lost Boys Series

JIN • NAMJOON • YOONGI •

Warnings: 18+ smut, MF sex, MF oral, A playful bite, Swearing.

Words: 3075

Summary: A stand alone series about a misfit friend group of seven boys. These stories are a day in the life snip it of who they are, where they came from and how they love.

The melody drifting up the barren hall floated through the air like it was made for your ears alone.

The poetic rhythm of the keys made you pause, listening enviously at the talent of whomever was playing.

But who was playing? It was 8 am on a Friday, the room should be vacant. Pulling up the music rooms schedule on your phone, you weren't wrong. The first spot of the day was yours for the entire semester. 

You knocked lightly. The sound stopped and the bench made it's familiar dragging noise across the concrete floor. 

Pulling the heavy windowless wood open by it's cold handle you peeked inside. He scrambled, seemingly embarrassed, shoving his sheet music into his backpack. 

"You should be more careful with your notes, don't want to ruin any masterpieces." 

"No fear in that," he mumbled.  "They're just a bunch of scribbled ideas."

 Pulling the zipper shut he slung it over his shoulder.  "Sorry, I didn't know this was your time slot." 

"It's fine." you tried to smile at him but he kept his eyes down.

"Don't you have the schools app? I can check to see when you're supposed to be here." You tapped the widget,  "What's your name?"

"It's fine, I'm actually not on the schedule." 

"Oh, why not? You sounded great. If you missed the cutoff you can still be added to a wait list. People drop out all the time." 

He looked up and grinned. By God if he wasn't the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.

"I don't belong here." 

"Don't say that. I was listening and you're really talented, you deserve to be here just as much as any of us." 

"I don't though." His eyes met yours and you were done for. "I don't go here, I'm not a student." 

"Ahh, I guess that's a problem." 

"I already said I'm sorry," he got defensive. "I'll just get out of your way."

He started towards the door.

You tugged his backpack. "So is breaking into schools and playing piano a weird hobby of yours?"

You tried to lighten the mood, "you've got a little Phantom of the Opera University edition kink?" 

He laughed. "I'm not technically breaking in, I do have a key fob." He held up the school ID. "It's my roommates. And if you want to know about my kinks you're gonna have to get to know me a little better." 

You stepped closer and took it from his hand.

"Park Jimin, Performing Arts." Handing it back you eyed him up and down. "So what's your story….."

"My name's Yoongi."

Pulling a chair out from the corner you sat and rummaged through your backpack until you pulled out your breakfast. 

"Listen Yoongi, I was just going to sit here. I need logged practice time for course credit." 

You peeled your clementine, "So if you want to stay and play, be my guest."

He looked at you unsure, "Why would you do that for me?" 

You smiled and shrugged. "I like your face." 

Turning red he plopped his knapsack back onto the floor and reclaimed the bench. 

You waited until his fingers were just about to land on the keys. "I do have one condition though." 

He froze, "Yeah, what's that?" 

"You have to take me for coffee later and tell me your story. Agree?" 

"I Agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to ask you out anyway." 

You probably wouldn't have given up your time but you were intrigued. Park Jimin was an amazing dancer. The curious boy who was here on scholarship was often the subject of conversation in the dining hall. Not only was he good looking but he was a mystery. He hung out with the strangest group of friends, seven misfit boys who were proud to not fit in. In this small University town they stood out as odd, everyone referred to them as The Lost Boys. Yoongi, now being revealed to you as one of them, seemed harmless enough and the opportunity to get to know a piece of them was too good to pass. 

Walking and talking up the worn concrete path you made your way through the bustle of pajama clad students trying to get to class. 

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" 

"Yeah, but I don't care. I'd rather get to know you." 

"You should go, I'm not so important that you should lose a day of school over me." 

"It's all bullshit anyway Yoongi, it's not going to get me anywhere." 

He stopped abruptly, now just outside the small coffee shop. "You sound like a spoiled brat." 

You were shocked, who the hell was he to speak to you like that? 

"I'd kill to be in your position and you don't even give a shit about just squandering it away." 

He pulled the door open and looked at you crossly. "Still want that coffee?" 

You stepped in front of him and shot him a dirty look. "I do. You owe me AND because I'm a brat I'm going to order the fanciest thing on the menu. TO GO!" 

He silently walked behind you, following to the counter while you placed your ostentatious order. You stood studying him while he asked for an iced Americano. His blond shaggy hair skimmed his chocolate eyes and his sexy lips seemed to  always sit in permanent pout. They looked like they'd be nice to kiss. 

"You want to stop staring at me and take your expensive drink. You're holding up the line." 

You blushed, knocked from your daydream admiration by his deep voice.

You huffed while pulling the chair out, making a show of your annoyance, situating yourself at the corner table.

"I thought you were getting it to go?" he barbed. 

"Why would I do that when I can be a pain in your ass a little bit longer? You promised to tell me your story, let's hear it?" 

His inhale was deep. Anxiety? Apprehension? A mix of both? His eyes stared at his coffee while his fingers fiddled with the straw. "I want to be a musician." 

"Well I figured that much." 

"Listen, if you really want to know can you just shut up? This isn't an easy thing for me to talk about, I don't just tell everyone." 

"If you don't want to tell me don't" 

He cut you off. "But I do want to, for some stupid reason."

"What reason?" 

He exhaled with a smirk. "I like your face." 

You smiled, "Then please continue." 

"I want to be a musician. I write music and lyrics and it's all I've ever wanted my entire life."

He took a sip of coffee. "My parents didn't approve of my choices so I decided to move out on my own and live my life how I wanted." 

You nodded in understanding. 

"I didn't take into consideration how hard exactly that would be, but I'm a proud man, and there's no going back." 

"So what do you do? You're not a student, do you work?"

"Yeah, I deliver food and groceries part time. It doesn't pay much but the basics are covered." 

You looked down at your shitty expensive coffee in guilt, maybe you were just a spoiled brat.

"So whenever I'm not working I try to get as much practice and writing in as I can. I use Jimin's fob to get into the music room and that's where I am most nights...all night." he shrugged in omission. 

"So no time for a girlfriend?" you felt silly the moment it left your lips. 

"I didn't think so." He looked up for the first time since the conversation started. "But," he smiled, "I think given the right person priorities could definitely be changed." 

Talking into the afternoon time flew away. Several less expensive coffees later he looked at his phone and frowned. "I've got to go to work." 

He stood up and gathered his things. "But I'd love it if we could see each other again." 

You stood to go too. "Next Friday 8am? I can let you in with my fob?" 

"That sounds really nice." His hand reached out and his fingers brushed across yours as he took the tray from you. "But I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait that long. We're having a party tonight at our place...will you come?" 

You sat on the edge of the sofa watching the group around you getting drunk and philosophical. Definitely nothing like a frat party, these guys were a different breed.

His roommates were all handsome in their own way and something about them just set you at ease. No pretensions, no apologies, they were just who they were having fun.

Finally seeing him walk through the door your heart raced when his eye caught yours.

"I'm sorry I'm late, they kept getting orders." 

"It's okay. Your roommate..." you pointed to Seokjin. "The one with the really broad shoulders, he kept me entertained with some pretty good jokes." 

He scrunched his nose, "really, really sorry." 

You pulled a bottle vodka out of your purse and raised your brows. "Are you ready for some fun." 

He grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the couch until you were close enough to hear without having to shout.

"I'd like to grab a shower. Do you want to wait in my room for me? I mean...if you're uncomfortable down here by yourself." 

It was a no brainer, the sexual tension and chemistry you'd had all day was like a current of electricity running between you.

"Lead the way." 

You looked around his room while he was showering. Sure the mattress was on the floor but the bed was made and his clothes were hung neatly in the closet. His dresser was stacked with notebooks that were overflowing with lyrics. Pieces of paper with doodles and random words loosely spilling from between the pages. 

Pictures, they must be family, small resemblances in their smiles and it looked like he had a brother. 

He had a shelf full of colognes. Picking up the Paco Rabanne he walked in as you were pulling the cap off to sniff it. 

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosey, I just wanted to know what you smelled like." Idiot, of all the creepy things to say. 

He smiled, "It's alright, I'm not hiding anything." 

"No," your cheeks flushed when it finally registered that he was half naked in front of you. "I guess you really aren't." 

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just forgot to grab my clean clothes before I went in." He opened a drawer to pull out a shirt. 

"It doesn't," you blurted embarrassed. 

He pulled his hand away from the clothing and raised his brows quizzically, "So you don't want me to get dressed?" 

You walked towards him, he was gorgeous. Water droplets still clung to his muscular chest like he couldn't afford the time away from you to fully dry himself. 

"I think," you stammered, "That I'd actually prefer if you didn't."

You placed your hand on his bicep and waited for his response. 

It didn't come from words, it came from two soft warm lips attaching themselves to yours. 

"You're a good good kisser Min Yoongi. Is your mouth that good at everything?" 

"You mean like singing?" He teased your lips with his while he popped the button on your jeans. 

"No," you giggled. 

"Then you must mean biting?" His teeth lightly bit the flesh of your thigh as he kneeled to lower your pants and underwear. 

"Nope, that's not what I meant either." 

"Oh, I know, you must mean eating?" His warm tongue found your clit and gave it a little flick. "I think I'm pretty good at it." 

You ran your fingers through his hair while he looked up at you hungry. 

"Prove it," you moaned." 

Stepping out of your pants you leaned back against his dresser. Ass resting on the edge he opened your thighs, a low mumble of, "fuck" drifting out of his mouth before he dove in. 

His large hands held you open while his silky tongue explored every crevice of your sex sending your senses into a frenzy. Coming up for air every so often he'd moan at the loss of your taste before inhaling and going back in for more. He wasn't methodical, his mouth was unpredictable. One minute his tongue would be deep inside you and the next he'd have his lips around your clit sucking softly. 

"Come over here with me."

He led you to the bed, taking off your shirt before guiding you down. Your eyes ran over his body stopping at the bulge under the tightly wrapped terry cloth towel. The wetness in between your legs grew just thinking about getting to see it. 

He laid down beside you, holding your face and kissing you while you reached to undo his shroud.  

Smiling, he pulled your hand away, "I'm not done with you yet. Tell me what you want me to do to you." 

You had to rub your legs together for friction, he was driving you wild. "This morning, when I watched you playing?" 

He smiled like he knew.

"All I could think of was how sexy your..." He stopped your words by hooking two fingers  into your mouth and rubbing them against your tongue. 

"You were thinking about how good these would feel inside you?" He kissed your neck, "You really know what you want huh?" 

"Some people even say I'm spoiled."

"Do you always get your way?"

He plunged them inside of you changing your words of, "I hope so," into a long drawn out moan.  

Kissing his way down your neck and over your collar bones his mouth lingered on your breasts. Skimming his lips across your nipples he watched as they hardened into excited little buds. A small smile graced his face, he was clearly proud of how he was making your body react. 

His long piano fingers played skillfully inside of you while he latched onto your nipple and suckled. Your heart beat loudly like it was part of the parties soundtrack, the music  reverberating through the floor as he fingered you. The whole unfolding scene felt like a dream. Dizzy and intoxicated from lust and heavy breathing you didn't want to wake up to a reality other than this one.

A thud outside the door snapped you back, your thighs clamping shut on his hand as you pulled the covers up to hide yourself. 

"It's locked, nobody can get in, don't worry." He pulled the sheet back off of you to continue his work. 

"Are you sure they can't get in?"

A loud moan rang through the hall and the thuds against the wall gave away the truth. 

"I'm sure they have their own agenda." 

You flopped back trying to regain the moment while his fingers  stroked your walls. 

It was distracting at first, people fucking right outside his door. But a few minutes of listening to their pleasure, of hearing their moans and the pleas of harder, you were more turned on than ever. 

He watched you unravelling at the  pornographic sounds. "You wanna cum when they do?" 

"Please..please," you begged in time with the drag of his fingers. 

The sounds escalating on both sides of the wall seemed to add fuel to the fires of both immanent orgasms. Just as the stranger in the hall screamed her end, Yoongi pumped and sucked harder until you finished longer and louder than your unknown counterpart. He laughed as he pulled his fingers out of you, the strings of excitement cleaned off with a lurid suck of his own digits. 

Your head was still reeling when he pulled his towel off. His thick beautiful cock looked so hard and ripe as he reached in his drawer for a condom. 

"Can I put it on you?" You took it from his hand and ripped the package open. Holding it between your fingertips you got closer and ran your tongue around the head of his cock. The taste of pre cum on his freshly washed dick made you ready for more.

Giving him a few deep sucks and pumps you needed him now. He watched while you rolled the thin latex tightly over his twitching thickness and straddled him, wasting no time to begin bouncing on his cock. 

Your kisses were messy, hands entwined in his hair, your breasts grazing against his skin with every thrust while you rode him. "Fuck, you feel so good." 

His hands gripped your ass squeezing as he moaned underneath you. Orgasm building like a hurricane, the eye of the perfect storm became more imminent with every slide of your pleasure point against his soaked pubic trail.

"Make me cum Yoongi." 

He flipped you swiftly onto your back and his hips picked up the pace to the finish line. Thrusting in between your open thighs his cock drove you to convulsively cum, your cunt squeezing his own warm liquid into the condom between you. 

He lay with his arms around you in silence. Your head on his chest listening to his heart slowly make it's way back to a normal pace.

"I can't promise you anything more than who I am. I don't have anything to offer you but dreams that may or may not come true."

He stroked your hair as he spoke his truth. "I'm working hard, but I can't guarantee that I'll ever amount to anything more than a delivery boy." 

You sat up on your elbow and stared at the man you'd just fallen in love with. "I want to share all of my time with you Yoongi. In fact, I insist you take it. I've heard you play and I believe in you."

You waited until your lips were just about to land on his. "I do have one condition though." 

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Yeah, what's that?" 

"You've got to promise you'll write me a song. Agree?" 

His fingers splayed caressing your back, he couldn't help the huge smile that took over his face when he kissed you. 

"I agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to do it anyway."

#Yoongi #Yoongi smut #bts smut #bts #min yoongi #lost boys series #Happy Birthday Yoongi #suga day

[my-writings-and-musings]

Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️

You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!

Rung

·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.

·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?

·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.

·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.

·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...

Megatron

·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.

·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.

·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.

·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.

·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.

Rodimus

·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.

·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.

·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.

·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.

·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.

Minimus

·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.

·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.

·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.

·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.

·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.

Swerve

·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.

·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.

·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.

·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.

·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #lost light #maccadam #tf #rung #megatron #minimus ambus #rodimus #swerve #self insert #human reader #requests #anon #my writing #transformers headcanon #my asks

[omgrachwrites]

Falling Stars (Sequel to Tell A Tale of You and Me) Chapter Two

Pairing: Dean Thomas x Reader

Summary: In the midst of a brewing war you fall for one of your classmates, a boy that you used to know. When you have the chance to fight against evil, you fight for what you believe in.

Chapter Summary: Tensions rise between Umbridge and Harry, forcing Dean and Cass to be civil with one another. Meanwhile, competition arises on the Quidditch pitch.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, swearing, sassy Harry

Words: 2645

Disclaimer: I haven’t read The Order of The Phoenix in so long so the timeline might be out of wack!

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

previous part   masterlist   prequel   next part

Chapter Two - The Pink Toad

Dean woke up, shivering slightly in the drafty dormitories – with all the magic in Hogwarts he thought someone would have taken the initiative to make the castle warmer. He was in a bad mood already and for a moment he couldn’t think why and then, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The 5th year Gryffindors and Slytherins were going to be having their first lesson with Umbridge in Defence Against the Dark Arts. To hear other people talk about it, it seemed like she didn’t know what she was doing, they said that she should have stayed at the Ministry.

He mulled over his thoughts as he walked over to the window and watched the quiet grounds begin to stir beneath the glow of the rising sun. Dean couldn’t deal with another shit Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Dumbledore should have brought Lupin back – even if he was a werewolf – he had been the best Professor they’d ever had.

Though, it wasn’t all that bad, today Quidditch try outs were taking place tonight, he had wanted to try out for the team last year but all of the matches had been cancelled due to the Triwizard Tournament. He was itching to climb onto his broom and zip through the late summer air. Once Seamus was awake – he didn’t say a word to Dean, Seamus was the worst person ever in the morning – they both got dressed and made their way to The Great Hall. Dean’s insides were already aching with hunger.

Dean perked up even more when he smelled all the amazing breakfast food and he sat by Fred and George Weasley, piling toast and bacon onto his plate.

“You trying out for the team then, Thomas?” Fred asked – or it might have been George – the twins both had identical smirks on their faces. The Weasley twins had been on the Quidditch team since Dean’s first year, they were extraordinary beaters.

“Of course,” Dean grinned, feeling excitement course through his body, “tonight’s try outs are going to be a blast!”

“You guys haven’t heard?” Dean looked around at the sound of a voice and his heart dropped when he saw Harry nervously running his fingers through his hair, “the Slytherins must have gotten wind of our try outs tonight because they booked the pitch before Angelina had the chance. Our try outs have been pushed to Saturday,” he scowled.

“What?” the four boys gasped in horror and Dean looked over at the Slytherin table.

Cass was laughing with her friends as she raised a mug to her lips; her eyes flickered over to Dean for a moment before she looked back at her friends. She looked radiant and beautiful, like she didn’t have a care in the world and that pissed Dean off, he turned back to his friends with a frown.

“I bet that Cass had something to do with this, this is so like her,” he moodily stabbed at his food.

Seamus rolled his eyes as he shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth, “mate,” he started with his voice muffled, “you say that you don’t give a shit about her but, Merlin, I think you’re obsessed. Not everything that happens is her fault.”

In the back of Dean’s mind he knew himself that Seamus was right and it had probably had nothing to do with Cass. However, he was still so annoyed with her that he wouldn’t even entertain that idea.

On their way to class, Dean’s eyes impatiently searched through the sea of people in the corridor, “this isn’t a good idea mate,” Seamus scoffed.

“Please, just give us a second, yeah?” he offered his best mate a smile before going back to the task at hand and he spotted Cass as she was about to walk into class.

“Oi, Cass!” he called out to her, making her stop in her track and she gave him a surprised look as he caught up with her, “why would your team book the damn pitch for tonight? We were supposed to have our try outs.”

Cass rolled her eyes and Dean noticed the glimmer of disappointment in them and he almost felt guilty, “do I look like the team captain? Everything that goes wrong in your life isn’t my fault you know,” she hissed before storming into the classroom.

“Told ya,” Seamus snickered.

Umbridge hadn’t come down from her office yet so Dean contented himself with doodling a lion devouring a snake while Lavender and Parvati made a bird out of paper and had charmed it to soar through the air. As it flew over to Dean and Seamus, Dean laughed, “go on, Seamus. Hit it!” he goaded his best friend and Seamus landed a successful hit, blowing it off course. In the next second, it burst into flames making the class jump.

Dean scowled as a toad like woman stood at the front of the class wearing the ugliest shade of pink ever seen. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as a sickly sweet perfume smell wafted towards him. Umbridge started like all the other teaches had by explaining the importance of OWLS, before she handed out a beginners handbook.

“Your introduction to this subject has been uneven, probably due to the fact that you’ve had half breeds teaching you and whatnot,” there was mirth in her voice and it annoyed Dean massively.

“If you must know, Professor Lupin was the best teacher we’ve ever had. So what if he’s a werewolf?” most of the class murmured in agreement and Dean clenched his teeth in anger as Umbridge gave him a sweet smile.

“That will be five points from Gryffindor, Mr Thomas,” she let out a high pitched laugh that went right through Dean.

“Dean is right though! How is it Remus’ fault that he got bitten? He didn’t ask for that to happen! It shouldn’t make it impossible for him to get a job, he’s not dangerous,” Cass piped up.

Dean whirled around to look at her; her usually warm eyes were hard as she stared at Umbridge with a furious expression. Dean agreed with Cass though he hated to admit it and would never say it out loud. Cass made eye contact with Dean and her eyes softened as she smiled at him gratefully. Dean gulped and looked away.

Umbridge smirked as her nostrils flared but she didn’t tell Cass off. Instead, she smiled at a couple of people on the front row who had got their wands out, “oh, you can put those away, my dears.”

“We’re not going to be using magic?” Ron mumbled, his voice held all of the confusion that everyone else was feeling.

“Why on earth would you need to use magic dear?” she let out another annoying high pitched laugh.

“Oh, of course,” Harry gasped as he slapped a hand against his forehead, “because when Voldemort comes after all of us, the last thing we’ll need to know is defensive magic, dear me, the thought of it. Ron, how could you ask such a silly question?” sarcasm laced Harry’s voice, making Dean smirk to himself as everyone waited for Umbridge’s response with baited breath.

Umbridge barely flinched at the use of You-Know-Who’s real name and her sickly sweet smile almost faltered, “you and your tall tales, Mr Potter. The Ministry would be protecting everyone if the Dark Lord was back.”

Dean glanced over at Harry when he let out a scoff to see that Harry had his hands on the table, clenching his fists, “so, Cedric Diggory spontaneously combusted did he?” Harry’s tone was dry as he glared at Umbridge, “Voldemort killed him! And you’re an idiot for not admitting it!”

Someone near the back of the room gasped at Harry’s words and everyone got ready to watch Umbridge murder Harry. Umbridge’s face was drained of colour as she scrawled on a piece of parchment and simply said in a steady voice, “come here, Mr Potter,” when Harry stormed up to her desk, she gave him the parchment, “take this to Professor McGonagall, off you go dear,” Harry scoffed as he snatched it off her and stormed out of the room, not looking back.

The rest of the lesson continued in silence, nobody dared to speak to one another. At the end of the class, Cass caught up with Dean, “intense huh?”

Dean was still reeling from the shock of Harry’s words that he momentarily forgot the bitterness he had towards her, “yeah,” he laughed, scuffing his shoe against the floor.

“It was nice of you to speak up for Remus,” she smiled, leaning against the cold stone wall.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly as his cheeks grew hot and he tried to ignore the peaceful feeling in his chest, “thought it was only fair to defend the guy when he wasn’t there to defend himself,” he cleared his throat, “it was good of you to speak up for him too.”

“I would do anything and say anything for the people that I care about,” she looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes as she bit her lower lip and Dean swallowed nervously, “I thought you would know that by now,” she gave him a small smile and pushed off from the wall, “see you around,” she nodded at him and then she was off, walking down the corridor with Astoria.

“So, the both of you can have a civil conversation without biting each other’s head off,” Seamus smirked.

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

As you stood with your back against the Quidditch stands you shivered in the freezing evening air as you watched the try outs, waiting for your turn to try out for the position of Keeper. Your teeth chattered as you stuck your hands in the inside of your coat and pulled the letter from your dad out of the inside pocket. You smiled down at the piece of parchment as you read over the words again in the perfect script. He was wishing you luck at the try outs, he knew how important Quidditch was to you.

All you wanted to do was make him proud, you knew that Harry made him proud but Harry had that effect on the adults in his life who loved him. It seemed so easy for him, he was a hero. You just wanted to make Sirius proud of who you were. Your breath came out as smoke as you watched your housemates zip through the sky in all directions. All you wanted to do was zip through the sky with them; hopefully it would warm you up. It was strange that Draco wasn’t trying out this year; he loved a bit of attention.

You jumped slightly as you felt warmth against your elbow and you glanced to the side to see Astoria holding a steaming cup of something hot, “this is for you, you look freezing,” she laughed as she passed you the cup.

You grinned at her as you lifted the cup to your lips and swallowed down the hot chocolate, humming at the thickness of it, it burned your tongue slightly but you didn’t care all that much, you were just thankful for the heat, “thank you so much,” you licked your lips as the hot drink warmed your insides, “what are you doing here? You hate Quidditch,” you narrowed your eyes as you realised just why she was here, “Draco’s not playing this year, sorry to disappoint you,” you laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not here for him Cass, I’m here for you. I know that I hate Quidditch, just don’t see the point of it all but I know how much you love it and you’re my best friend, so I came here to support you.”

Astoria’s words were so sweet and kind that you threw your arms around her in a tight hug, “I love you, you’re amazing. You know that?”

“Of course I know that,” she laughed, winking at you as she linked your arm through yours and leaned her head on your shoulder, “uh oh, incoming.”

You bit your lip as Dean, Harry, Seamus and Ron were coming out of the castle heading for the stands behind you. It seemed as though Harry and Seamus had put aside their rivalry in the name of Quidditch, the thought made you roll your eyes. What were they doing here? Were they here to sabotage you?

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” you turned around to face the Gryffindor boys, shouting against the howling wind.

Dean smirked, just enough for his dimples to be on display and even from here you could see his eyes flash with an emotion that you didn’t recognise, “I’ve missed out on Quidditch for the past two years, I’m not waiting till Saturday to be able to watch some! It’s got nothing to do with you,” he raised an eyebrow at you as he slouched against his chair, making you scowl at him.

Harry laughed as he shot you a smile, “and we wanted to see what form your players were on!” he would never tell you outright but you knew he was here to offer you some support and you appreciated it. You shook your head at the boys before turning back to watch the try outs, painfully aware of their eyes on you.

Finally, the captain looked at you, “Cass? C’mon, let’s go!” Astoria gave you a supportive smile and a pat on your shoulder as you walked onto the pitch, mounting your broom as you soared through the air to guard the hoops.

The first couple of throws the captain directed at you were easy saves; there wasn’t much spin on the Quaffle so you could have saved it with your eyes closed. However, every time you made a mediocre save, you could hear Astoria screaming as if you had made an amazing save and it made you laugh, she really didn’t understand Quidditch. You didn’t feel the cold anymore; the adrenaline you felt made it all go away

“C’mon! Give me a challenge!” you shouted to the troll like boy who was hovering on his broom, holding the Quaffle, he smirked at you as he sent the ball hard and fast with a lot of spin on it.

You kicked, caught and booted the ball with the end of your broomstick, sending it back to him and every time he caught it with a taken aback look on his face. There was a save that you almost didn’t make, it was too far off to the side but you caught it between the tips of your fingers. You heard the small crowd below you gasp and you glanced down to see Dean looked impressed – though he would never admit it – it only made him more handsome.

By the end of try outs, it was no question that you had been the best Keeper, and you were looking forward to practise the following week. As you walked towards Astoria she grinned at you, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “that was amazing! I can’t believe that you’re my best friend.”

You rolled your eyes at her words but you couldn’t help but smile a little, as you walked back into the castle together, desperate to get out of the cold night air, “oi, Cass!” you whipped around as you heard Dean calling after you.

Astoria gasped a little in delight as Dean jogged towards you, a competitive glint in his eye, “Gryffindor are going to kick your arse in the first match,” you laughed and it felt like things were better between you and Dean.

However, as the rest of the boys ran up to you, Dean’s expression dropped and his eyes went hard and cold again. It was obvious that apart from the competitive banter, nothing had changed.

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

@approved-by-dentists @thefuturelawyer @a-miserable-hufflepunk @firelordmillie @seriouslysiriuss @sleep-i-ness @play-morezeppelin @pregnant-piggy @sleepingalaska @blisfvlll @rexorangecouny @findzelda @wangmangagavroche @hxrgreeves @ghostofstudentspast @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @my-unique-mind @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass @kashishwrites @fific7 @blackbirddaredevil23 @siriusblackspam @mads-bri​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @ihavenotthepleasure​ @tinymalscoffee​ @ur-riddikulus​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @ourloveisforthelovely​ @wheezyreads​ @artemis1orion​ @sushiims​ @aspiringsloth20​ @queenl04​ @smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​

#dean #dean thomas #dean thomas fanfiction #dean thomas imagine #dean thomas x reader #dean thomas x reader insert #dean thomas x you #you x dean thomas #dean x reader #dean x reader insert #dean x you #you x dean #slytherin!reader #the golden trio #golden trio #the golden trio era #golden trio era #harry potter #ron weasley #seamus finnigan #astoria greengrass #fred weasley #george weasley #the order of the phoenix #mentions of death #sassy harry #slow burn #slow burn romance

[colorseeingchick]

Hello, colorseeingchick, I hope you’re having a nice day, and congrats on reaching 200 followers! I wanted to say I really like your Kuroko no Basket posts. I was recently looking for some small fanfics of Kuroko no Basket and I am glad I’ve found yours. I am also looking forward to reading your “Oh! Baby Series” of Tsukishima.

For the 200 Follower event, I would like to request a Kuroko no Basket matchup. I’d prefer to be matched with a male and my pronouns are she/her. I am currently 16 years old, I have brown skin and dark brown eyes. My hair is a dark brown color(almost black), very curly, and it reaches toward my mid-back. I’m 5’2” in height and I am an Aquarius(For Midorima).

I usually like to watch anime and read in my free time. I really love chocolate and exercising. I dislike people that lie a lot, peanuts, peanut butter, pecans, almonds, avocados, and onions. My hobbies are writing, drawing, reading, watching tv, singing, and playing the Piano. I think I’m particularly talented at writing since everyone seems to like my writing very much and right now I’m practicing my creative writing skills.

Personality: When I first meet someone, I tend to be quiet and just observe everyone. If anyone comes up to me, I usually just introduce myself, and depending on who the person is I may strike up a conversation. If I don’t then the person that’s talking to me will usually make conversation and I will quietly listen. I would usually just nod or say things like (yea, right, mhm) to show that I am listening. If I begin to feel comfortable I will give my opinion on the subject or try to strike up my own topic. But once I get really comfortable with that person I can become very goofy. I’ll start randomly dancing in the hallways and make weird sounds when I’m with that person. And depending on the person this can either increase or decrease in weirdness. I’m very good at listening to people especially when it comes to a person talking about their passions. My friends and family tend to laugh at a few things I say. They’re never really jokes there just situations I’ve been in and Apparently, they’re funny. I don’t tend to touch people, the most I really do regularly is either is put my hand/elbow on the person’s shoulder(Doesn’t matter if they’re tall or short) or begin poking them in odd places.

Negative Things: If someone is sad or insecure about something, I don’t know how to react, I usually just stare at them while they cry to themselves. I would not suggest that any of my friends come to me for emotional support. Unless they just want someone to listen to them. I don’t know how to take compliments. Once someone compliments me I usually just stare at the person or say thank you very slowly.

Additional: Since me and my friends were in chorus, we would usually just begin singing our chorus songs very loudly. It didn’t matter where we were, we would just begin singing. There was a time where my friend called me super sweet because I was checking up on them during the pandemic. My friends also said I give the best presents and truthfully I struggle trying to find presents. I want to give my friends something they can use or they really like. For example, I gave my friend a drawing notebook and some art supplies since they like to do art. I’ve been told that I have a mean resting face and that I act more mature for my age. I also asked my friends to describe me and they said, “Beautifully, Creative, Loving, Silly, Writer, Fashionable, Pretty, Innocent, and Nice Hairstyles.”

I swear I don’t where they’re getting these nice compliments. Hopefully, this is not too long.

Hello noodleman!!!! This was perfect do not worry. They compliment you because you're amazing haha. I always see you in my notifications and it makes me so happy :) I’m very excited to do both your matchups! For KNB, I’ve matched you with…

Akashi Seijuro!

We all know Akashi is a powerful man who’s been through a lot. As a girlfriend, you would be the one to both compliment his power and balance out his emotional state, even if you don’t intend to. And that would be the source of the beauty of your relationship with him.

You were a student at Rakuzan who would mind her own business. Akashi was in your class (ranking at the top) for the new school year, and you two sat next to each other. Akashi (this is the OG Akashi- the nice one) would introduce himself to you, and you would do the same. You observed Akashi quietly. The way he was so put together. His calm demeanor. His pretty eyes and how they were keenly watching everything. You didn’t realize he was observing you as well. While you both were just normal acquaintances at that point, things were about to change.

One day, you heard Akashi talking about basketball next to you. You could hear how passionate he was about it from the way he talked. The person he was talking to walked away, but you couldn’t help but ask him about basketball. Watching him talk that way was so enticing.

He looked at you for a second before smiling kindly and asking, “would you like to learn about basketball?” From there, you two would have a very engaged conversation with Akashi fanboying in a way that was as classy as fanboying could get, while you were listening attentively. You had to leave for the end of the day, but you left with a smiling Akashi out the door of the classroom.

The next major interaction between you two happened a few days later. You were doodling in your notebook when you heard him speak. “You’re very talented at drawing.”

You smiled awkwardly at the compliment, unsure of how to respond, so you just looked at him. He didn’t mind though. He just smiled back. “If you draw again, I’d like to see.” He then left soon after.

While you didn’t doodle again, you decided that maybe you were comfortable around Akashi, more than you thought you were.

A major shift in your dynamic happened one day when you were writing down intensely into a journal, stopping only when your hand hurt, taking time to think about your next words when you felt a light tap on your arm.

“Excuse me, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you writing?” He genuinely looked interested, which caught you by surprise.

And so you explained the short story you were writing. Akashi asked questions about the characters, the plot, where you got the idea from- all sorts of things. You both didn’t realize everyone else had already emptied out. “If you would like to share your story with me sometime, I would love to read it. And if you’d like to come by and watch my basketball team play, let me know.”

He was surprisingly easy to talk to. And that was the point where you both got closer. As you got closer, talking and learning more about each other, you both started to fall bit by bit. You both had a long list of hobbies and talents, much of which overlapped. Akashi was mesmerized by your singing, though he knew you wouldn’t like to hear the compliment if he gave it to you. Instead, he just asked you to always sing and gave you his full attention when you did. It went without say he loved your writing. He was a talented musician himself, and you found his game pretty entertaining- the way he dominated on the court.

He asked you out after Rakuzan had taken a big victory before the winter cup. You’d come to watch the game.

“Will you celebrate with me?” He asked you.

“With your team?”

“No, actually.” He’d smile at you and step closer, but had not invaded your personal space. “I’d like to actually get some time with you, on a date.”

He was pleased you said yes. The date went well. He’d learned you were mature, which is what he was looking for in a partner. He already knew you were talented and a good listener. It wasn’t long before he asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

Your dynamic with Akashi was well tailored. Being the captain of Rakuzan, he had an image to maintain- one of power. And having a girlfriend who he knew to be intimidating as well (your resting face was intense) was a fitting situation. He knew you observed and listened well, which is why he could trust that you would be thoughtful- something that was also very important to him. You also cared for efficiency and purpose. But what he didn’t realize he needed so badly was your goofiness. After you two had gotten as close as you were, he learned how funny your stories were and saw you in your most comfortable states. He loved your fun goofy side. It helped him live a little, too. He enjoyed elbowing you back when you did it to him (it was the most innocent playful thing he’d done). It didn’t bother Akashi all that much that you didn’t know how to deal with other people being emotional. He wasn’t one to show negative emotions all that much and didn’t project that expectation onto you, which made it a bit easier. He knew that if he needed to talk it out and have someone listen, he could always go to you.

Overall you and Akashi managed to balance out on a lot of your ideologies, world views, hobbies, and life practices. While some were the same, others were different- but in a complimentary way. It’s quite a beautiful dynamic, really.

~~~

Ahhh I really hope you like it! Lemme know what you think hehe. I'm excited to do your MHA one too!

#knb #knb matchup #csc hits 200 #colorseeingchick milestone

[hetacon]

For Humanity’s Sake

Word Count: 2,668

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety, Background platonic LAMP, Background Romantic Logicality, Background Romantic Prinxiety

Warning: Swearing, physical fighting (really light, it’s one punch), bullying, crying, so so much Patton angst but I swear Virgil makes him happy

______________________________

Summary: Patton has a hard time making friends.

______________________________

By no means was Virgil seen as a kind person to all of his high school. While he was definitely the lone wolf type, he got more involved in getting into others’ business than he should have.

He got into fights basically.

He picked unnecessary fights, got into plenty of trouble, and was in detention fairly often. His parents didn’t seem to care if their son was a delinquent because outside of school, he was no more harmful than your average person.

The difference came with Patton. Patton Hart, Virgil’s best and, frankly, only friend. Well, now, he’d had some others before getting involved with Patton.

Patton Hart was definitely not the most normal of people, not that it was in any way a bad thing. He was cheerful, loved to laugh and talk for hours, sang to himself as he did chores, doodled all over his notes, made silly jokes, anything he darn well felt like doing. He had anxiety that could very well near rival Virgil’s own and that was damn impressive in and of itself. Despite this, he wasn’t very well liked.

See, even with how kind and sociable Patton tended to be, many people found him rather off putting. For one reason or another, if there was a word that people would use to describe Patton, it was this: annoying.

And if that didn’t make Virgil’s blood boil.

Since early childhood, Patton had always been sweet and talkative, going on for hours about his interests, talking about anything and everything he wanted to with a happy demeanor about him. Even then, he didn’t have friends. His mother would tell him that she always saw him as the type to get along with everyone and that everyone liked but Virgil knew Patton saw himself as pretty obnoxious. The other kids only played with him because they were in the same class as him. He was with the same 20 or so kids for 7 years, kindergarten to 6th, and not a single one of them really enjoyed him being there. It was only a nicety if anything.

Patton managed to make some friends in junior high due to common interests but this turned out more than disastrous than Patton would’ve dared to imagine. By high school, he started to realize just how little people actually wanted to talk to him so he started to keep his mouth shut whenever possible.

Virgil Knight completely destroyed that behavior as Patton instantly clicked in a way neither had ever experienced.

For one thing, Virgil actually listened to Patton as he went on long and exhaustingly winding stories, talking up a storm something fierce that Virgil wondered how Patton had ever managed to stay quiet about all of the thoughts running through his head.

Another thing was that they shared a few common interests, the first of which had brought them together being a really obscure movie from 1991. Patton was really into discussing the character growth, psychoanalysis of the characters, the time period and history, and everything in between of their common interests and while it was a bit harder for Virgil to express it to that extent, he listened to what Patton rambled about with no complaint.

One of Patton’s favorites though was that Virgil actually took the time and effort to encourage Patton to talk about the things he wanted to talk about and do the things he wanted to do. It was something special for them both.

Virgil loved Patton with every inch of his heart and he didn’t hesitate for a single second to remind people of that.

Clearly that was going to happen right now, Virgil thought to himself as one of his friends started to ask a question.

“Hey, dude, why do you even hang out with Patton? He’s not really your...” his friend hesitated, sucking in a breath. “I dunno, your style I guess.”

Virgil looked up from his lunch, mid-bite as he held his sandwich in his hands. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked a bit cooly, his language not really showing much animosity to it. But oh boy, if things were going where he thought they were-

“Virge, you’re like, his only friend, doesn’t that say something to you? How do you know he isn’t a shitty person or has serious issues or something? I wouldn’t trust him,” another person from the table spoke up.

“You don’t have to trust him or like him, you can’t please everyone. I do though, all that matters to me really. Patton’s not your friend? Chill, means I have no competition for the best friend title,” Virgil hummed out lowly, taking another bite of his sandwich.

A silence fell over the table before finally, someone seemed to say what everyone else was thinking. “Virgil, you know everyone finds him kind of obnoxious right? I mean, he’s always so loud, he clings to you like a lost puppy, and he literally doesn’t know when to shut up. He’s frankly kinda weak, who even needs to be that emotional, dude? Patton’s honestly psycho.”

Virgil’s fist slammed into his face and he was on the table, leaning over to tower over the person in front of him. His hand gripped at his friend’s shirt tightly, watching with a snarl as his friend shrank back a bit, eyes wide and clearly shocked.

“You’re going to shut the fuck up about Patton. He doesn’t have friends because shitheads like you guys can’t understand why someone would love life so much. He is not annoying, he is not weak, and he is not fucking psycho. He enjoys things, he wants to express his emotions rather than cower behind an act like an actual wimp, and he’s my best friend,” Virgil growled out. He snapped his head up to see everyone in the cafeteria looking at his table and he shoved his friend back roughly, standing on the table as he started to yell. “Patton Hart is the best person I could ever ask to be friends for and if you have a problem with business that isn’t yours to talk about, you take it up with me! You got a problem with him? You’re dealing with me before anything else and I will not stop for a single second! Fuck all of you!!”

With that, he clamored off the table, grabbing his food and backpack before storming out, catching Patton’s wrist as his friend was about to enter the cafeteria door he came out of.

“Woah Virgil, slow down!” Patton laughed, running to Virgil’s side, moving Virgil’s hand to hold his. “What’s going on?”

“People suck,” Virgil scowled before his expression softened. “How was tutoring?” he asked gently, kissing Patton’s temple. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as Patton practically lit up.

“Good, just needed a little refresher before tomorrow’s test is all,” Patton told him.

“You meet up with that guy in your class you like?” he asked, smiling a bit as Patton leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

Patton turned a little pink and nodded. “Yeah, he was super sweet about it even if it was a silly reason to get tutoring.”

“My best friend is silly,” Virgil hummed. “But that’s just how I like him~”

_____

Things didn’t get better for Patton as Virgil saw. Not that he exactly expected things to magically get better, for people to understand Patton overnight, and for Patton to have as many friends as humanly possible. But this was ridiculous, truly.

People started to stare at both of them, especially Patton. People wouldn’t even talk to Patton during his classes, at least the ones that knew what was going on. It didn’t seem to affect Patton too much but there were definitely moments, as was happening tonight.

Virgil had invited Patton over for a sleepover weeks ago and was getting everything ready when he heard a knock on the door, hurrying to get it.

Patton was a mess. He didn’t have his glasses for one thing, his clothes were rumpled and messy, and most noticeably was his hair, tangled and tousled unrelentingly, a wad of gum stuck in it. Patton looked close to tears and Virgil just hugged him tightly before ushering him in.

The first part of their evening was spent with Patton laying his head in Virgil’s lap as they watched The Rescuers, Virgil’s hand working through Patton’s hair with a trusty handful of peanut butter. By the end of the movie, the gum was out, Patton had calmed down a little, and Virgil sent him off to take a shower.

Patton came back from the shower a bit later, already in his pjs as Virgil set up for another movie. The night mostly went alright and Virgil was just getting to sleep at 2 in the morning when he heard Patton get you and shuffle over to his bed.

It was silent, Patton didn’t say anything and was turning back when Virgil spoke up.

“Pat?” Virgil whispered softly, grabbing his friend’s wrist.

Patton sniffled. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

There was no hesitation for Patton and within seconds, he was shaking and sobbing into Virgil’s shirt. Virgil could do nothing but rub his back and let him cry. That seemed to be enough for Patton.

_____

“Hey Virgil, have you thought about joining GSA by any chance..?” Patton asked one day at lunch, taking a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Virgil looked over to him before thinking, throwing his legs over Patton’s lap.

“Nah.”

“How come?”

“Just haven’t, you goof,” Virgil said, his eyebrow raised. “If you want an answer why I wouldn’t, it’s overrated if I’m not with you and I know you’re not planning on it.”

“But what if I did?”

“Do you?”

“... No.”

Virgil snorted and leaned over to kiss Patton’s forehead. “I have made the executive decision that this school’s gonna have a super exclusive GSA club, headed by the wonderful and responsible club president Patton Hart.”

“And who are the members of this club, Virge?” Patton asked, moving to snuggle into Virgil’s side.

“You and me, that’s all we need. Two gay as shit disasters, no one else matters in my opinion,” Virgil told him, resting his head against Patton’s while silence settled over them for a bit.

“What do we do at club meetings?”

“Talk about gay shit.”

“Does Logan count?”

“You bet your pining ass that Mandel counts.”

“Then Roman does too!”

“We’re gossiping basically then.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening.”

“Eh, fair enough.”

_____

Patton was currently playing video games with Virgil and as he fell off Rainbow Road, sighed.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked, still focused on the game.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That was your pensive sigh, not your Virgil-is-kicking-my-ass-in-Mario-Kart sigh. So what’s up?” Virgil chuckled.

“You ever just... Realize that people suck?”

“They really do, screw ‘em if they can’t take a joke, am I right?” Virgil joked, finishing off the race.

“We should watch Mamma Mia, I hope you know what you’ve done,” Patton smiled, finishing the course too. “You’re even worse than Roman with the musical references sometimes!”

“You take that back!” Virgil exclaimed, tackling Patton to the couch, smacking him with a pillow.

Patton laughed loudly and pulled Virgil down on top of him, snuggling into his best friend.

Virgil’s heart melted and he hugged on to Patton tightly. “Dear god, you’re too cute for your own good, c’mere you cuddlebug,” he muttered, happy to feel Patton relax in his hold.

_____

“Soooooo lemme get this straight, Patton-“

“Good luck with that!” Patton giggled, causing Virgil to lightly push him with a snort.

“Shut up,” he said with no malice, kissing his friend’s hair. “You asked him to go over a bit of the math work you guys got assigned and he without prompt just asked you if you wanted to meet up for coffee to do so?”

“Yeeeeep!”

“Shut up you beautiful embodiment of sunshine and rainbows, you got a study date with Logan!!” Virgil shouted, shaking a very giggly Patton.

“It’s not much but it’s spending time with him, yeah? He’s still talking to me, even if it’s about school a lot of the time.. He could..” Patton paused, smiling to himself. “He could maybe be my friend, right? Do you think he would?”

“He’s not a complete blockhead like every single dumbass in this school, he’s gonna like you,” Virgil said with a smile, hugging Patton tighter in his lap.

“Well, as the Patton and Virgil GSA meeting demands, we must now hear from our resident emo about his blockhead!” Patton teased, kissing Virgil’s cheek.

Virgil laughed and hummed. “Good grief, who made you in charge?”

“You!”

“Oh that’s right, my mistake!” Virgil joked, receiving a punch to the arm. “Roman’s been doing a good job, had his whole script memorized today when most everyone else only had half. I just worked on the sets while they were rehearsing but he came over to talk with me when he didn’t have any more scenes. Still as stupid as I like ‘im though!”

“We clearly like two men at the opposite ends of the spectrum, huh?” Patton asked.

“Yep, absolutely. A total nerd and a moron. Strange combo. Think they’d get along?”

“Only one way to find out!” Patton hummed in a sing-song tone, offering half of his pasta to Virgil.

_____

Virgil glanced over to the front door of Logan’s house as Patton was revealed on the other side. Logan was quick to give Patton a kiss and greeted him.

“Wow, your house is really nice, Loggie!” Patton said, looking around.

“Patton!!!” a loud voice squealed from behind Virgil, Roman barreling towards Patton and Logan. He practically tackled Patton to the ground and Patton laughed loudly and fully. “I missed you so so so much! Never leave me alone for a single minute ever again!” Virgil’s boyfriend whined, hugging Patton tighter.

“Roman!” Patton laughed out, hugging back tighter. “I’m never going anywhere! You can’t make me leave, you’re stuck with me!”

“Mmm, perfect!” Roman exclaimed, picking Patton up to twirl him around.

As their antics continued, both of them talking excitedly about Patton’s job at the animal rescue center and Roman’s next show, Logan sat next to Virgil. Virgil watched his best friend and boyfriend talk excitedly for a bit, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder.

“You make him this happy you know,” Logan said quietly, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s shoulder.

“Dude, you’re his boyfriend,” Virgil retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Logan chuckled. “That I am. But you were his first and only friend for a long time. You’ve made him feel like he can take on the world just by being himself. It makes me very proud of the both of you.”

“I just treated him like a human being, you know?”

“Well, when you’ve been treated alien your whole life, it can make a world of difference for someone to see your humanity,” Logan explained, smiling a bit as Patton and Roman dragged Patton’s stuff in from his car.

Virgil smiled too as soon as Patton came back inside, still beaming with the force of a supernova. “He deserves every bit of humanity.”

Patton wasn’t treated well up until he was out of high school but looking at him now, Virgil knew all the fighting and arguments were worth it. Patton truly deserved everything the three of his friends could give him.

______________________________

Taglist: @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

#sanders sides #platonic moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #background platonic lamp #background logicality #background prinxiety #stan writing

[bnhavibes]

hhihihi!!! i saw your requests were open and i was wondering if you could do a Midoriya one where the two of them are like,,, perfect for each other. they both ramble a lot and are anxious often and have a lot of similar habits and mannerisms. only difference is Midoriya is pining super hard for them, and they’re pretty oblivious to it no matter how hard he tries to make them realize he has a thing for them. everyone else can tell BUT them. is this too specific? maybe. sorry lol! 💕💖

If there’s anything more envigorating than training with your classmates, it’s socializing with your classmates! You, Class 1-A, some kids from 1-B, and a handful of some support class students all planned a hangout in the common room for Game Night.

Of course, the Bakusquad teams up with Bakugou, Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari on one team and the 1-B kids on the otherside; Kendo, Shinsou, Monoma and uh oh—

“My, my, it seems one of our classmates would rather study than participate in this silly game night!” Monoma chorted obnoxiously. “I always knew our class was much more responsible and—”

“SHUT YOUR DAMN TRAP YOU BIT—” Bakugou exploded, but his shrapnel was covered by Kirishima’s hands over the angry hedgehog’s mouth; Arms wrapped around and over his shoulders to keep Bakugou in place, Kirishima laughs a bit awkwardly.

“What out buddy Bakubro over here means you bit-ter bring your A-games! Heh,” He says, squeezing a struggling Katsuki while he growled and kicked around. “We might wipe the floor with ya.”

“What about Midoriya? Where did he go?” Yao-momo asked, hope hanging on her tongue.

It was obvious (only to you) that the beautiful girl had a crush on your crush. And it made you even more discouraged, knowing that such a socialable and outgoing girl would win Deku’s heart before you could even try!

You knew where he was though, you saw him sneak away with a huge flush on his face after talking to Yao-momo. You had texted him wondering where he was going and he said he had to study for his internship. The thought of the two chatting made your nervous tick activate, your leg bouncing rapidly on your seat’s footrest. You couldn’t help but blush a look down at your hands, thinking that people would notice.

You thought, and second guessed, about the outfit you chose for tonight; a pair of black soffe shorts(the comfortable kind that dancers exercise in), a very baggy and black low v-neck top with over-the-shoulder short sleeves made of polyester. Of course you had a pair of black ruffles ankle socks, but you didn’t bother with slippers since the floors were always clean.

You bring out your journal, writing and doodling on the countertop. while you sat on a barstool, the game systems were set up and snacks were being heated/cooked in the oven and prepped onto the countertop. A good amount of time passed when they finally got it all done.

Your distracting thoughts ease your shaking a little, but it fires back up when you hear somebody respond to Momo;

“Oh! I forgot to say, Yao-momo, maybe ask (Y/Nn)-chan, you know how those two are, hehehe.” the ‘Alien Queen’ retorted as the festivities had already begun.

Pink coated the tips of your ears, dusting across your cheekbones when Momo’s eyes meet yours as you look over in their direction. A warm smile stretches across her face, earning a gulp from you. The lump in your throat disappears as she approaches you, and places a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, (Y/N), you and Midoriya-kun are friends. I noticed he was acting funny earlier, but he wouldn’t tell me what was the matter and left. Would you min—”

You didn’t let her finish as a “I’ll go grab him!” sped out of your mouth, collecting your phone and journal as you raced to the elevators. Relieved to be out of the big crowd, you let out a deep exhale as the elevators ascends. Deku wouldn’t tell Momo what was wrong, so it was up to you as his best friend to figure it out.

You clentched your phone and journal in your hands, shaking a bit with every step towards his room. Soft japanese lofi hiphop playing from behind his door, making your anxiety skyrocket.

“Here we goooo—” You raise your hand to knock, “—OOH GOD. Oh goddddgod god!! I have to talk to Deku, and what if hes alone?! What if he doesn’t wanna see me? Did I make him upset?? Hmm, well he always feels better when bringing up All Might. Maybe I could go grab some movies and come back or..” You rambled on and on, talking to nobody but an empty hallway. In your daze, the door began to creep open.

You started taking notes, marking pros vs cons of talking to Deku right now. Mumbling something or other when a small squeak distracts you.

“U-Uh-uuHuh, he-hey there, (y/n)!!! Eh, wha—why aren’t you enjoying game night? Did somethi-

“DEKU! Oh— Hi, well you, aheh! uHmM What! No, I— I, I wanted to— oh geez, your room smells so good! Are you making cookies or something?” You blush profusely, biting your lip to stop your damn tongue from speaking.

His own blush flares up, backing up a bit and opening an arm to welcome you in as he looks harshly away from you, frozen in a flinch and sweat beginning to build on his forehead. He was in a pair of black joggers, a plain white v-neck on his torso and the bracelet you got him for his 18th birthday.

“I was just warming up some cookie dough, I, I know you’re not supposed to eat it uncooked but— It tastes g-good so.” He strays off, touching every other thing and making sure it was perfectly placed; a common occurance in his room.

A giggle escapes your lips, breaking a few layers of the awkwardness, and bringing a brighter hue of pink on his cheeks as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. It wasn’t noticed by you, but you were distracted by a gut feeling that you couldn’t ignore.

“D-Deku?” You squeak, nerves choking you up.

He looked over at you from his place on the floor, he was on his knees looking for a book in his bedside table’s drawers. “Ye-Yeah?”

“Do you actually have something to study, or is there something w-wrong? Yo-You can tell me— I wouldn’t tell a soul, I, I swear on it.” You say with a brave smile, clutching your journal to your body as you sat with your knees on the mattress

“Did Yaoyoroza put you up to this? I— I already told her it’s n-not worth worry-ING! UUHhhhHhh (Y/N)!! Y-Your, uhh— I!” He slaps a hand over his eyes and runs himself to his closet, blindly grabbing what seems to be a pair of sweats and holding them out at you with a shaking hand.

“W-What’s this?” You ask, eyes widening when you look down at your legs to see what made him react like that. A tear along the back side of your shorts had begun to spread from; The tight material usually form-fits itself around your “thicker” thighs and buttocks, but you must have caught them on your stool when sliding down and off it. (You’re short, so just stepping off high barstools will never happen).

“Th-Thank you!” You squeal, snatching the material out of his hands and slipping them on, and to your surprise— they fit! Even around your wider hips, tho your waist wasnt much smaller than his, the hem hanging a bit low, exposing about an inch of your lower torso(upper pelvis/low tummy and hipbone area).

“Is it okay now?” Midoriya asked. He looked so cute with his hand over his eyes, the prominent blush now being observed and imprinted in your mind.

You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, wanting to trace your fingers across every freckle that sprinkled across his person. Though, before you could reach his skin, he peeked through the cracks of his fingers; The heat becoming unbearable, and now your own body felt hot.

“(Y/N)...” He spoke softly, as if he was realizing something, removing his hand slowly. You were frozen in front of him; both visibly trembling, both staring into the eyes of your crush, both anxiously determining the next step.

You gulped harshly as he took in your appearance, subconsciously licking his lips as his eyes met the harsh grip your teeth had on your bottom lip, stepping forward and —without warning— he swept a strand of hair out of your face, both hands cupping underneath your jawline, and pulled your bodies together by gently tugging you forward and planting a slightly wet, deep kiss on your lips.

Your initial reaction was to freak out, but for some reason his warm hands kept you from falling apart. With your knees buckling, you grab the collar of his shirt, and almost fall into him— But his right hand steadied you, his calloused fingers pressing into your barely exposed lower back a bit, your bodies now insepedable as he continues to kiss you slowly but so deeply you thought he had some type of soul-sucking Quirk that happens when he kisses people.

After what felt like a life time, though it must have been 2 minutes, his lips leave yours. The absence of his mouth leaves you with a pout, but when your eyes flutter open you find he has a sweetest look in his eyes as he worriedly furrows his brows.

“S-Sorry, was that o-okay?” He asked, neither of you moving an inch.

“Does that mean yo-you like me?”

He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you, (Y/N).”

HNNNNGGF I HOPE U LIKEd THIS I KNOW IT WASNT EVERYTHING U ASKED FOR BUT AKAOXOISOSD

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