#Also drawing those letters was hell

[harpoonsnotspoons]

I have to return some videotapes

I desperately need you all to know that this is not a character comparison or whatever I just thought it'd be fun

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

[madfantom]

Full animatic And so, part 2 of my comments, let's start.

◁Part 1 || Part 3 ▷

In the last part, and here, the order in which the children got to William is shown, and I will explain why it is not the order of the murders Here is a MEMO with missing children to make it easier to navigate, since I drew very simplistically.

I mean, when watching usually fnaf animations, I myself had the question "who the fuck are all these kids?" and, either in another animation I understood, or I did not understand at all, or the designs were so simplified that you can guess (I mean a child in all red or with a pirate armband is foxy, Freddy is all brown, etc.) So I just made outlines of their hair and costumes and that's it

It's just a little complaint here, don't pay attention, I'll just say it once, and that's because I didn't think that someone would write the same thing all the time when writing AU And one more thing. Chick's name is SOFIA. Please guys, I know that Suzy from fnaf 6 exists, okay? She's there, hell, she's even in the animation next to Cassidy. I just shifted her from being a chick to another one, not removed. And she also has an interesting role and a different design logic, I just don't have time to do everything. In fact, I even have a reason why Sofia exists and I wrote a very long text post about it, but I haven't finished drawing sketches there, so you won't see it yet. It's just that I'm starting to get a little bit hung up by the same type of comments from Pinterest, although to get rid of this, I write in big letters everywhere that it's AU

Let's go back to the animatic

I have displayed the methods of killing, which will then be reflected in the appearance of the ghosts. In fact, I took the idea from my old horror zine Fnaf art when I was thinking about how the children died there to make their appearance more creepy. Some of the ideas remained, and some were redesigned, as well as some designs

Sofia was placed in a ventilation unit. William caught her and left her there suffocating in the off ventilation , after a light strangulation, suffocating in the off ventilation. She didn't actually die, but she was the first (And I refer to this also in a custom night with the phrase "I was the first, I have seen everything!") And now imagine how the room smelled of chemicals after cleaning it from all kinds of oils and other liquids necessary for mechanisms that are very difficult to wipe off. While ventilation did not work and the girl was locked in a narrow place after she was strangled, forced to watch through the slots for the children who were after her That's why Sofia's ghost makes such a quiet clucking sound, as she coughs as if she's still in the ventilation. She won't die of suffocation, nah, in this comic she's still alive and William can cut her throat.

About the rest it is more obvious, well, not counting the pictures on the Background.

Jeremy was electrocuted, so his ghost hair is pulled up as if by an electric shock. He also has charred lips and eyelid skin and no eyebrows, and his hands have torn and charred stripes from just the same clamp. He looks like the most crippled of the three

Fritz couldn't stand the blows from blunt and sharp objects and in the end they attached a mask to his face with a nail gun or something like that and set it on fire quite a bit. Well, just a little bit. His background is directly related to the comic, which Redraw at the beginning, and now I continue. I'm still doing it, but I need a lot of time for it

Gabriella was basically cut while they wrapped one of those cables around his neck that are forever hanging on the walls in fnaf and pulled out his eye after death

[sammylkcho]

Please.. Forgive me.

Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers

"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.

Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.

Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.

There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.

Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.

Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.

“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.

You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.

“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.

“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.

“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”

Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.

“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”

You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.

“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”

There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?

“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”

“You’re bleeding!”

Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.

You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.

You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.

When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.

“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.

Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.

You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.

You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.

Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.

It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.

“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.

You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.

The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.

The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.

That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.

You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.

Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.

You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.

Closer and closer.

The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.

Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.

His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.

Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.

When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.

The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.

"SEBASTIAN."

The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.

"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"

"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."

The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.

You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?

He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.

He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.

The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.

His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.

His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.

You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.

Then he looked at your attacker.

The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.

He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.

Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.

The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."

Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?

No.

No, he didn’t believe it.

He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.

He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.

More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.

…

He needed you.

[r0-boat]

*Free falls from the sky*

Hello there, I’m 🦩anon! I come from the land of being terrified to send asks but finally got the courage to when it comes to the hot demons from WHB

I absolutely loved your Mammon Headcanons (totally not because I go feral for him, and also loved the dark/more twisted ones)

Do you by chance have more? If not then that’s ok!

🦩

Let's get some very sweet headcannons I don't have a lot but I have a few of certain characters so here's a mess of them!

Wholesome what in hell is bad headcanons various demons

Gehanna eddition

Let's give some love to the nobles!

Belial

Your Belial's first love, You're the apple of his eye. He constantly daydreams about you. And he's always eager to go on cute dates with you.

Belial before he lost his voice was a very good singer now you can only hear little bits of it when he hums. Someone hadn't heard his voice in a long time so he's a little shy about his singing.

Belial is always staring, please don't mind him He just likes looking at you listening to your voice. You could talk for hours and he could listen. Only for him to respond 'I love you.'

Leraye

When he gives you gifts he always gives you stuffed animals.

Leraye will randomly text you just to remind you that you're beautiful and great and sexy and that he loves you. Sometimes you'll just send you texts or at a context photos throughout his day He just likes telling you about himself.

Leraye feeds stray cats every time You see him, He is surrounded by stray kitties purring and cuddling up to him as he's trying to feed them. He has the biggest smile on his face as he tries to give them all attention and food.

Paimon

Paimon always shares his food with you, It is His love language He doesn't let anyone else do it but you. Sometimes he'll order big sizes just so you can eat it together. Paimon will even feed you.

If you have feminine clothing paimon will ask to borrow it. If not Paimon will buy outfits to match with you. They even bought you two little keychains to match.

Paimon loves to do those couples challenges with you. every time they find a new one they get so happy and then text you sending you the link to it and asks if you want to do it with them the next time you come over.

Sitri

A very overworked demon as much as your heartbeat turns him on it also calms him down when he lays against your chest he starts falling asleep.

Sitri is very touch starved He loves when you calm your hands through his hair melting into your touch and when you pull away he whimpers asking why you stopped.

Yes he does get annoyed when Leraye is hogging your attention but to be honest he's kind of happy that Leraye And you get along so well he hopes he could take care of you and you can take care of him part of him kind of hope you will choose him. Leraye is it good demon.

Zagen

Zagen is a really good artist, when he's bored he doodles for fun and those doodles look like works of art. During a meeting Zagen and Belial started doodling on a piece of paper. Despite Belial's crappy drawings Zagen says they're absolutely amazing and Belial should draw more so now they draw together! Zagen Even teaches Belial some art techniques and he's getting better Zagen is so proud! Leraye and Zagen still go to the gym together.

Zagen even though his rank is lower he still feels like a big brother to all of the other devils. He's very stoic protective yet caring and sweet. Zagen is a gentle giant. He may look scary but he's actually pretty shy. One compliment and his face is turning red, trying to hide that blushing face.

Zagen always reminds you to eat, He wants you to be strong by eating healthy. He knows how to cook because he makes his own healthy meals. You will never go hungry when he's around and he is happy to cook for you.

Astaroth

Instead of texting which he does do sometimes, He sends letters to you. Some of them are rather... Spicy, but all of them are filled with poetic and lovely words that make your heart flutter. It feels as though you are in the middle ages getting a love letter from your beloved fiance. Every word drips with love and you could practically feel the emotion on the paper. He even puts a little wax stamp on it before sending it to you the letter isn't an envelope smelling of his cologne.

Astaroth imagine is himself as the main character and you as love interest when he reads romantic novels. You can't help but imagine the two of you in those lovely situations sometimes he even writes it himself.

When he does text you he pours his heart out in a longing text. Telling you how much he longs for you. How his heart aches when he's not near you. How he feels as though he has lost without your touch. He knows just what to make you swoon.

[kyokutsu-sama]

"S/o is the captain of a squad too, but she is royalty just like Nozel and Fuegoleon, Yami has a crush on her but has never tried to get closer to her because of her status and because he thinks she will never give him a chance. How does Yami act when she's around and how would he try to get closer to her?"

///

I really loved this headcanon. And I was curious, how would Nozel, Fuegoleon and William behave in the same situation? S/o can be royalty or not, it's up to you. But she's the new captain of a squad

Hii!! I also enjoyed writing that one.

Here is your request and I hope you like it✨️ Reader is from royalty here too.

_____________________________

Nozel :

Nozel was one of the first to know that a new squad captain was arriving in the Clover kingdom. At first, he didn't care much about it, but knowing that she was royalty and had great prestige really made him think about the matter. When he arrived in the meeting room and saw her sitting so still and serene, he sat in front of her so he could admire every detail and draw his own conclusions about her. He didn't want to admit it but he was becoming very interested in her and wanted to spend as much time as possible with her, trying his best to show that he was the most competent among all the other captains. (Of course, it goes without saying that he would pout, angry at seeing Fuegoleon talking to her or interrupting something he said in the meeting to give a better structured opinion than his) He also couldn't escape Yami's provocations, who was also suspecting that he had feelings for her. "Good morning, Mr. braids! I heard that you're in love with captain L/n. You'd make a great couple!" The other captain teased and he narrowed his eyes at him, feeling angry at the other for that "Get out of my way, you filthy foreigner!"Nozel growled, passing him and Yami laughed out loud "Now look, he's blushing like hell!" Yami pointed and Nozel entered the office slamming the door

Fuegoleon :

Fuegoleon found out from his younger brother that Julius was going to introduce the new captain at a meeting. He was curious to know what she was like. He had been the first captain to arrive in the room, the new captain was already sitting there and looking at him when he came in. Captain Vermillion was somewhat taken aback when he saw her. She was beautiful and all of her showed strength and royalty. He asked if he could stay by her side and she agreed. He spent the entire meeting focused on her and her opinions. Intelligence was also something he took into account and she really captivated him not only with her determination but also with her intelligence. Since then, he started wanting to arrive early at meetings or calling her so they could both meet and talk about certain topics. One of those times, Mereoleona even appeared and interrupted them, with a smile on her face when she saw her brother with another woman. "WHAT?!! My brother finally found a someone. It took a while!" She said, approaching the two who were looking at her, not knowing what to say "SISTER! What do you think you're saying? You're embarrassing Captain L/n and on top of that she's new here!"Fuegoleon scolded his sister but she just laughed at him "I don't care and since you said she's new here, I hope she's at least aware that you're an asshole." The captain just laughed at the two brothers when they both started fighting at that siblings. She would have to get used to it as it was already tradition for the two to fight whenever they crossed paths.

William :

William had received a letter a few days ago to inform him of the arrival of a royal captain. The captain was happy and curious to know that a new comrade would come to help defend the Clover kingdom. Julius called all the captains to meet and that was when William met eyes with the newly arrived captain. He couldn't deny that she was a true royal precision and he even got a little nervous when she looked at him after his scar caught her attention. They both met a few times outside of work to talk and get closer, he was relieved to know that she wasn't bothered by his scar and that everything was fine because it wasn't a problem. William once used his magic to form a bouquet of flowers to offer her and it caused many murmurs within Golden Dawn HQ. Everyone began to leave their duties to spy on the captain's meetings with the woman who was occasionally invited to meet him. (Alecdora in the background like: It should be me! Why not me?)

[biolumien]

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

���i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

[oneforthemunny]

YAY MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS GAME!!!

Rockstar!eddie, rehab, angst (because I have been think of this concept all day)

starting the day off strong with some angst! tw bc it does mention drug abuse and some darker kinda themes.

"Eddie Munson," Eddie looked up from the guitar he'd been strumming towards the nurse- no, the holistic helper at the door. They didn't use words like that here, not at this rehab.

"You have a visitor here." She nodded, giving a soft smile.

Eddie set the guitar down, tucking the pick back between the strings, following the woman down the long hallway of the center. The music room was where he spent most of his time these days. He'd tried hiking and the spa once he'd finished detox, but always came back there- his own oasis in his own personal hell.

"We're going to go back to your room for this meeting, if that's alright with you, Eddie." The nurse smiled gently.

"Fine with me." Eddie grumbled, his shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each passing step.

Ninety days, it's what he agreed to. He felt better after twenty, but he'd finish it out- for you, for your girls, his family that he'd fucked selfishly. His stomach turned at the thought.

"And, there's no limit on this visit today." The nurse stopped before she opened the door. "So no need to feel pressured to rush."

Eddie's brows furrowed. It was Gareth, maybe Jeff, he knew it was. They were the only ones who came to visit him anyways. Still, he grumbled in response, turning the knob to his room. It was nice, a private suite that felt more like a hotel room than the prison cell it'd become.

"Hey, man, didn't know you were coming by today. I've been working on some stuf-" Eddie's breath hitched, falling flat in the air when he turned.

It felt nearly like a mirage, like he might have been dreaming, hallucinating that you were here. Here, on his bed, sitting too rigidly to be comfortable, arms wrapped around yourself.

"Working on stuff?" You hummed, eyes barely meeting his and he didn't miss the way you swallowed. "What kind of stuff?"

"Y-You're here?" Eddie croaked, shutting the door with a harsh snap. "Wha-What are you doin' here, baby?" Every bit of his being screamed to hug you, hands tingling and twitching- itching to feel you, to hold you.

You shifted uncomfortably, finger running over your ring finger out of habit. Eddie nearly threw up when he saw you'd gone without your ring, he wondered how long ago you'd stopped wearing it.

"Um, Gareth came by the other day to see the girls." Your eyes cut to Eddie at the mention of them, how his face nearly crumbled at the thought. "He told me you'd been doing much better. Told me you were scared straight."

"Yeah." Eddie nodded. He was frozen, unable to move, so he stood in the doorway. "I am. I-I..." There was a million things Eddie wanted to say. He wanted to drop to his knees, beg for your forgiveness, for mercy, for anything.

"He," Your voice cracked, turning your head politely to the side to compose yourself. So prim and proper, Eddie's heart leapt at the action- he'd missed it so fucking much.

"He also brought me your letter." Your lip wobbled at the mention, pressing them tightly together to keep yourself from bursting into tears. Ten pages, front to back, with scribbling, tear soaked, inked ramblings about his feelings- poured his heart out onto those pages. Everything he'd ever wanted to say in his entire life, there on those pages, his whole bleeding heart.

"He did." Eddie sounded relieved, shoulders slumping, rounding with the weight of everything he'd kept in for so long.

You nodded slowly, watching him carefully from your own perch. "The girls made you some things." Your voice shook with your hands when you reached in your bag, piles of drawing and scribbles they'd made for Eddie.

Eddie looked at the colorful papers, just a glimpse in your hand, choking on a sob that was tearing mercilessly through his chest. "I, um, I didn't bring them today." You barely met Eddie's eyes, hand smoothing over the construction paper. "I didn't think you'd want them to see you like this."

"No," Eddie shook his head, tears falling down his stubbled cheeks. "No, I-I don't. Thank you."

The air was thick between the two of you, an unsure uncomfortable feeling that left you both on ease. Eddie finally sobbed when your hand brushed his, passing the drawings to him.

"I'm-I'm so sorry." Eddie broke, teeth gritted, trying to swallow back his own cries, hand holding yours tightly. "I don't-I don't know why I-I fucking did that. Why I did it to you, a-and to the girls, and fuck- I don't know why-" Eddie's sobs choked his words.

You knew you shouldn't have, that you should have stood strong, colder and meaner. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but you couldn't- not when your own heart was shattering all over again. So you held him, arms wrapped around his torso, body moving towards his in that familiar way. Your puzzle piece, you two fit so well. His arms hugging you tightly, nearly crushing you into his chest like he wanted you to fuse to him. Eddie's face pressed to your head, wetting your scalp with his tears, nose rubbing into your skin babbling apologies over and over again, promises that he would keep, that you hoped he would.

[thatgiraffefromtlou]

The Aurora Project

(part 2)

(tumblr won’t let me tag part one for some odd reason but it’s in my pinned post! make sure you read that first 🫶🏻)

summary: as a result of a malfunction, you and ellie awaken from cryosleep aboard a spaceship with no memory. will you find evidence that you're more than just shipmates? something to give reason to your nagging familiarity to the stranger you wake up next to?

warnings: eventual explicit language, potential for smut in later chapters (depending), uh cringy teasing idk- Imk if there's more this is also pretty tame-

A/N: so erm this definitely isn’t the best work of mine i won’t lie to you guy. it’s only slightly proof read 🧍🏼 like i said the results of this election has my mind kind elsewhere, but writing is still very therapeutic for me and i really wanted to get something put out for you guys! plus im excited to post this and continue this story and i don’t want that to be taken from me. anyways enough about that i hope you guys enjoy!!

work count: 2.6K (ik sorry they will eventually be longer)

– Chapter two -

"Maybe your eye would work?" you break the silence, your voice echoing softly in the open space. You and Ellie sit on either side of the exit, your backs pressed against the cool, metallic walls. It took you two what felt like forever, but you finally found a door. The hope that cascaded through your bodies upon first seeing the door was palpable, a surge of excitement that quickly dissipated the moment you realized it was locked. The lock mechanism, a complex array of technological marvels you’ve never encountered, had multiple parts, but only needed one of the three ways to get through: an eye scanner, a password, or a thumbprint.

The eye scanner looked like a floating camera, or at least that's the best way you could describe it. It hovered eerily, set maybe a foot above a see-through keyboard that seemed to defy gravity. Glowing boxes surrounded glowing letters, numbers, and symbols, creating an otherworldly interface. It was strange, almost disconcerting, the way those two things seemed to float beside the door, as if held in place by some invisible force. In stark contrast, the fingerprint scan was firmly affixed to the actual door itself, a more tangible and familiar security measure. Either way, two of these things you thought Ellie might be able to manipulate, given her potential credentials.

"Huh?" Ellie turns her head to you, her brows furrowed in confusion and her upper lip slightly risen on one side, creating an expression of both intrigue and skepticism. "It's a shot in the dark but..." you begin, your mind racing to connect the dots, "Our name plates—only you had 'Dr.' in front of your name." You shrug your shoulders and lick your lips, your theory on the tip of your tongue. Turning your body to face more in her direction, your legs tucking slightly under your thighs in an attempt to get comfortable on the hard floor, you continue, "Maybe you have some form of authority here? I mean, hell, maybe you're even an astronaut? It's not too far-fetched considering our surroundings."

She looked at you with an expression that was a perfect blend of disbelief and flattery, as if you had just said the most absurd yet complimentary thing imaginable. Her eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised, creating a very confused expression that spoke volumes. "Or," she countered, her voice tinged with a hint of skepticism, "I'm just a doctor who practices medicine and they need doctors in this place we're headed towards? It seems more likely, doesn't it?" Your shoulders literally slump at that, the weight of disappointment settling on you. "Yeah, you're probably right…" you concede, your voice trailing off.

You sit with your back against the wall again, the cool surface a stark reminder of your predicament. Your mind starts racing, deciding to go back to the drawing board. Maybe there's another door on the other side? Air vents? As these thoughts swirl in your head, Ellie suddenly stands up, her movement catching you off guard. She leans over slightly, putting her eye at level with the scanner, a look of determination etched on her face. You look up at her curiously, and suddenly there's a beep—a sharp, electronic sound that cuts through the silence—and the doors slide open with a smooth, hydraulic hiss.

You get on your feet immediately, adrenaline surging through your body, and she turns back to you, her face a mask of genuine shock mirroring your own. "No way..." you say in awe, your voice barely above a whisper as you look through the now open door. The view beyond is bleak, not really what you were hoping for. Just another long walkway stretches before you, more walkways branching off like a labyrinth of sterile corridors. "Guess I am an astronaut..." Ellie says quietly, a smile playing on her lips, tinged with a mixture of pride and bewilderment.

You look back to her, her smile a welcome contrast to the boring white hallway that seems to stretch endlessly before you. You can't help but smile back, a sense of camaraderie growing between you. "Of course you are," you say, your voice filled with a newfound confidence, "I'm never wrong." Ellie huffs air out of her nose in a small laugh, her smile widening as she shakes her head, a gesture that seems both exasperated and fond. She takes a deep breath, straightening her back again, and steps into the hallway with cautious steps. You follow close behind, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. The doors close with a whooshing sound behind you both, sealing off the room you just left.

"Why'd you give it a try?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you as you fall into step beside her. Ellie shrugs, her eyes scanning the corridor ahead. "Better than sitting there with no solution," she replies, her tone matter-of-fact. She glances at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes, "and something told me you're never wrong or whatever." You smile as the warm sense of familiarity fills you again, this time less scary but just as confusing as before. It's a feeling you can't quite place, like a half-remembered dream or a song you can't quite recall. "Fair enough," you joke a little, your voice light.

Silence settles over the two of you for a moment before you speak again, "So, Dr. Ellie," you say, emphasizing her title with a playful tone, a little pep in your step, your body angled more towards her than forward. "What's our next move? Any pearls of astronaut wisdom to share with us mere mortals?" The question is wrapped in a layer of jest, but underneath, it's clear you're both grappling with the same pressing concern: what on earth—or rather, what in space—are you supposed to do now?

Ellie responds with a soft chuckle, her eyes never ceasing their scan of the corridors stretching out before you. "Well," she begins, her voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation, "If I had to guess, I think our best bet would be to find some kind of control room or like a central hub. I mean.. there's bound to be a nerve center somewhere." As she speaks, her hands move in small, unconscious gestures, as if trying to shape her thoughts in the air.

She gives a little shrug, the movement almost diminishing the weight of her ideas. It's a strange contradiction—the self-assurance in her logic juxtaposed against a hint of awkwardness in her delivery. The dichotomy is intriguing; she clearly knows she's smart, but there's a flutter of something—maybe modesty, maybe uncertainty—when that intelligence is on display.

You nod, genuinely impressed by her logical approach despite her hesitation. "Makes sense," you agree, your voice trailing off a little as you mull over her suggestion. After a moment you ask, "Any ideas on how we might go about finding this hypothetical control room?"

Ellie's eyebrows lift a fraction, and when she speaks again, her words seem to require a touch more effort than before, as if she's carefully weighing each one. "Well, we could start by looking for signs, I suppose?" Her gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the path ahead, a mix of consideration and caution in her eyes. "Or, failing that, we could follow the main corridor?" She gestures ahead with a sweep of her hand. "In my experience-“ she cuts herself off in a fluster. “Or what I think might be my experience, given our current memory situation—important areas are usually centrally located and well-marked."

You hum thoughtfully and nod, acknowledging the soundness of her strategy. "So, essentially, we keep walking straight until we stumble upon another door or some kind of signage?" A note of playful sarcasm creeps into your voice as you add, "Sounds absolutely thrilling..."

Ellie responds with an eye roll, but there's a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, softening the gesture. "Well, unless you've got a better idea tucked away in that sarcasm-filled brain of yours, Captain Quip, I think that's our best bet for now." She pauses for a beat, then adds with a touch of dry humor coloring her words, "Who knows? Maybe if we're really lucky, we'll stumble upon a space casino or an alien petting zoo along the way."

"A petting zoo?" you echo, latching onto the absurd image with enthusiasm. "Maybe they've got some kind of high-tech Noah's Ark situation going on up here." The mental picture draws a laugh from both of you, the sound a welcome break in the tension. As your chuckles subside, you're struck by a sudden realization. "You know what? I could really go for a drink right now. God, I'm thirsty. Are you thirsty too?" The question hangs in the air for a moment before you notice something's off. You turn, expecting to see Ellie beside you, but she's nowhere in sight. Confusion floods your system. Wasn't she just—

You’re quickly interrupted by the sound of your name being called. It's Ellie's voice, but it's coming from at least 20 feet behind you. You spin around, your eyes searching, and finally spot her. She's standing in front of a doorway, her arm extended, finger pointing at something beyond. "Look," she calls again, her voice a mix of excitement and wariness.

You quickly jog back to where Ellie is standing. As you draw closer, you see what has captured her attention: before you a mini hall, maybe 3 feet long ending with a small door.

Your gaze follows Ellie's pointing finger to the side of the door, where a placard identical to those at the foot of your pods catches your attention. The name 'Dr. Williams' is etched onto its surface, below her name is a simple +1, causing a small jolt of recognition to course through you. "Oh..." you breathe, the single syllable barely audible as it escapes your lips. Your eyes dart between Ellie and the plain white door, a feeling of apprehension swirling in your gut.

"Well, let's open it," you suggest, your voice a blend of impatience and nervousness. Ellie responds with a nod, her face showing her own set of conflicting emotions. She reaches out, her hand settling on the doorknob - a long, flat apparatus that stands out against the sterile white of the door. Your eyes are drawn to a peculiar smooth shiny black rectangle spot near where the handle attaches to the door, its purpose unclear but somehow significant.

Ellie's fingers wrap around the handle, and she attempts to turn it. The door remains closed, the handle refusing to even budge an inch. A look of frustration flashes across her face as she tries again, her knuckles almost whitening with the force of her grip. Still, the door doesn't budge.

You watch intently as Ellie's brow furrows in concentration, her fingers now tracing the outline of the mysterious black spot. Suddenly, Ellie's eyes widen with realization, and she presses her thumb firmly against the black square. The silence that follows seems to stretch for an eternity, both of you holding your breath in anticipation. Then, a soft beep fills the air, shattering the tension.

Ellie turns the handle again and the door responds with a soft click as she pushes the door open. You and Ellie exchange a quick glance, a wordless communication passing between you. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you both step forward in unison. The room is small, almost like a one room apartment. The white sterile walls not following you into this space. You both set forward, Ellie in the lead as you both wordlessly scan the room. The walls may be white, but the room itself is vibrant with personality and life.

Every available surface is adorned with an array of memorabilia - framed photographs capturing moments frozen in time, colorful posters that speak of diverse interests, and shelves lined with an assortment of knick-knacks, each telling its own story. These decorations form a protective cocoon around the full-sized bed nestled at the far end of the room, creating a cozy sanctuary within the larger space. The front area of the room seamlessly blends the functionality of a kitchen with the comfort of a living room, defying the sterile environment beyond its walls.

As you step further into the room, your senses are overwhelmed by a collection of different scents, each fighting for dominance in the recycled air of the ship. The rich, invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the smoky, complex notes of aged whiskey. A faint, earthy scent of stale marijuana lingers in the background. Underpinning it all is a warm, masculine fragrance - reminiscent of a what you’d smell when you hug a Southern dad, all sun-warmed cotton and subtle cologne.

Despite the main overhead light being off, the room is bathed in a gentle, welcoming glow. A strategically placed array of lamps and twinkling string lights cast a soft, amber radiance throughout the space. This warm illumination not only brightens the room but also seems to ignite a spark of recognition deep within you. As your eyes adjust and roam over the personal touches scattered throughout, you can't shake the feeling that this space is somehow intimately familiar, as if you've spent countless hours within these very walls, or at least around these things.

Ellie quietly calls your name, her voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. You slowly turn around to see her sitting on what you presume to be her bed, a framed photograph clutched in her hands. You make your way over to her, each step feeling both familiar and foreign on the ship's floor. As you settle beside her on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your combined weight, she carefully turns the photo to face you both.

The image captured within the frame immediately draws your attention. It's a snapshot of what appears to be a Halloween party, the background a blur of festive decorations and revelers. But it's the subjects of the photo that truly catch your eye - you and Ellie, looking carefree and happy, your costumes as whimsical as they are clever.

You find yourself staring at your own image, barely recognizing the person looking back at you. You're dressed in an elaborate moth costume, complete with intricately designed wings and antennae. Your costume-clad self is caught mid-motion, planting an exaggerated kiss on Ellie's cheek. Ellie, for her part, is sporting what can only be described as a lampshade on her head, her face alight with laughter and warmth.

The juxtaposition of the costumes isn't lost on you - a moth drawn to a lamp, a visual pun that speaks of inside jokes and shared humor. It's a moment of connection, of joy, frozen in time and preserved behind glass.

"Oh..." you breathe, the word barely more than an exhale. The photo feels like a key, unlocking a flood of emotions you can't quite place. Familiarity wars with the unsettling feeling of looking at strangers wearing your faces.

"Oh..." Ellie echoes, her voice a mirror of your own confusion and wonder. Her eyes flick between the photo and your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or confirmation that you're feeling the same tumult of emotions that she is.

The silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of implications neither of you are quite ready to voice.

A/N: hehehe lmk if you wanna be added to the tag listttttt

tag list: @autisticintr0vert (if you’re not tagged and asked to be, please check to make sure you’re ability to be tagged is on because your username did not show up!)

[1000sunnygo]

Hi, I'm the asker with the SJ magazines. I do have those bonus pages! I uploaded them here (tinyurl/3w5ssa3b) & on imgur (/a/EUYFaMt). They're part of a bonus segment included in the volumes - I wrote about it on the wiki (/One_Piece_School#Bartolomeo's_New_Wo_Student_List), but it's pretty short since I can't read it. And no need to force yourself for other chapters! I'm happy for anything OP to be translated, no matter the amount. Similarly, would you want any future Law/School stuff?

😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU!!!!

woah these are some great details??

Longpost ahead, here's a summary of Bartolomeo's New World Middle investigation notes!

SH and friends' favorite school subjects

Luffy and Zoro: Physical education

Nami: Science, Maths, Geography

Sanji: Physical education, Home economics

Usopp: Art

Chopper: Science (Health)

Robin: History, Linguistics

Franky: Chemistry, Engineering

Brook: Music

Vivi: Japanese language and literature

Coby: (Currently improving in) all subjects

(Buggy is mad about not being included ha)

Classroom Layout

The four free seats are for students who randomly join from other grades and classes (ie. Hancock). Upper left features a special corner for Uta to join virtually. (She can also sit beside everyone randomly and make friends, as shown at the bottom)

Yamato is contemplating about where to seat after transferring to NW Middle, Luffy says "come join us ASAP and let's have fun at school!*

Luffy senpai's relationship chart

Other than ones I've previously translated, here are the rest:

Barto -> Luffy: "LU-LU-LU-LU-LUFFY-LUFFYYY SENPAI!!"

Luffy -> Barto: "Do you know me?"

Croc -> Luffy: "I can take you on a great adventure. So come to my side."

Luffy -> Croc: "You come to MY class! (?)"

Kaido -> Luffy: "I'll push you down the pits of hell."

Luffy -> "Try me whenever you want!"

Kaido -> Yamato: "Become Oni Middle's representative!"

Yamato -> Kaido: "I've joined Straw hat Luffy's class!"

Yamato -> Luffy: "I'll stop Oni Middle and then get to your class!"

Luffy -> Yamato: "I'll wait for you in the class!"

-

Luffy -> Sabo: "A really kind big brother!"

Sabo -> Luffy: "Take good care of your friends!"

Ace -> Sabo: "You coddle Luffy too much, man!"

Sabo -> Ace: "And you worry about Luffy just as much, don't you?"

Luffy -> Ace: "Ace is strong!"

Ace -> Luffy: "Huff.. what a high maintenance little brother!"

Lucci -> Luffy: Don't violate school rules!

Luffy -> What is 'school rules'?

Smoker -> Luffy: "All you do is stir more trouble!"

Luffy -> Smoker: "I enjoy the school more than anyone!"

Garp -> Luffy: "I trained your ass off to make you a strong teacher!"

Luffy -> Garp: "I don't wanna be a teacher!"

Luffy -> Aokiji: "He's a cool teacher! Probably!"

Aokiji -> Luffy: "Well.. try to get along with everyone, would you.."

Backpack Sneak peek

Doing the entire page for this one.

Uniforms, emblems

NWS has relaxed rulings on uniforms. Boys are allowed to wear whichever shirt they want under their gakuran, girls can choose the color of their scarves. Teachers have their uniform too but Aokiji (probably all teachers) don't really care.

The section below are rejected school emblems proposed by students. Aokiji was lazily okaying all of them but Smoker kept him in line lol

Luffy's Design

Luffy: The meat turned out lookin' really tasty, right?

Coby: Isn't it an assortment of Luffy san's treasures?

Usopp's Design (the Kanji says "New")

Usopp: Well, this is how it'll turn out if it's Me to decide.

Nami: Great drawing but too self-assertive!

Robin's Design (She wrote "New" and drew a world. Perfect)

Chopper: Scary! What's this? Why a face??

Robin: It's cuter like that.

Chatroom photos

Lowkey contemplating about lettering all of them but I think I've kept the ask hanging long enough 🙈 These are adorable!

Lack of source has always been frustrating, but I don't think Law has a lot of extra contents to miss out on 😩 If I find something I'd like to source-check, I'll make sure to knock you, so thanks again! ❤️❤️

[chiiimchar]

HI!!!! new commission post !!!

edit 28/2/2024 11/5/24 14/6/24: . guys😨 . being alive is so fucjing expensive. prices are staying down for some time! (lol)

PRICES:

full bodies are 35 25 dollars (30 shaded 5 sketched), and headshots are 10 5 dollars (7 shaded, 3 sketched)! I also do discord emojis for 3 dollars each, and whatsapp stickers for 5 3 dollars each, regardless of complexity!

ADDITIONALLY. i will draw pretty much anything at all. guys. i will draw you the chucky cheese rat pregnant. hell ill draw you bowser AND chucky cheese having sex. without any extra complexity cost or nothing. ill draw your mary sue self insert french kissing those gacha characters yall like so much. i dont judge. ill draw homestuck. mordetwi. anything.

ehem. prices can be discussed, and additional characters come cheaper (any additional character will be 60% off the normal price) in drawings with multiple characters + each 10 drawings with the same price, one comes free!

i also do gifs! every second is 35 20 dollars!! (gif making is very tough).

sketch pages are 5 dollars, and can have up to 5 sketches in them!

Payment through Kofi, or PayPal! I take payment after I do the sketch, and you give me the go ahead to continue to lineart!

EXAMPLES:

WILL AND WON'T DRAW:

DISCLAIMER and EXPLANATION: "real people" doesn't include self insert ocs; it says "suggestive" because i post these to other social media and if i write "i will draw nsfw" in all of its letters i WILL get banned off instagram i believe.; hateful art includes, but isnt limited to racism, transphobia and xenophobia.

IMAGE OF MY DOG TO ENTICE YOU TO REBLOG:

she is in fact as dumb as she looks. thanks for reading ❤️

[odocoiileus]

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for him, but can I have some hcs for RZ Michael Myers with a very silent s/o? (Like almost mute but can still talk, can be gn or any gender u want) Ty!!

pairings: rz! michael myers x gn! reader

warnings: mentions of murder, blood/gore,

a/n: of course anon! I write for any slasher for the most part. I'm also a huge fan of rz michael lol

talk about a match made in hell heaven, both of you are as quiet as a mouse.

it's a miracle that michael didn't kill you, though I fully believe that the reason he spared you in the beginning is because of how quiet you were — maybe he saw himself in you. either way, you're glad to be alive

it definitely took awhile for you two to get to know each other, considering you are both very very silent.

somehow, it still works out.

I imagine the both of you bond over doing arts and crafts, if you like those. such as mask making, drawing, letters confessing your love (seeing as you don't like to talk, this is probably the easiest way to express your feelings other than physical touch or gift giving, acts of service)

on the very rare occasions you do speak, it's usually only when Michael comes into your house soaked with blood, staring at you like a wounded dog. even then, it's probably only uttering his name.

you'll bandage whatever wounds he has (which isn't very often, I mean, the mans a tank) in silence, it's a comfortable silence. besides your irritated glare, of course.

you don't need to talk for him to be able to understand your anger when he's covered your floor with blood, which you'll have to clean up later

I think another way you could bond would be doing his hair, either braiding it or simply running your fingers through it. possibly even trim the dead ends.

this would be further into your relationship when the two of you are fully comfortable. I like to headcanon that Michael has a very high pain tolerance, but is tender headed. beware of knots!

I think Michael would be happier with a silent significant other such as yourself than one that's constantly yapping. it makes the connection much more genuine and deeper.

[surelysilly]

i love your King Of Hell Danny (superphantom) au and i would greatly (very much) appreciate it if you could talk more about it (King Of Hell Danny) i love his (danny) smug cat energy (smug) in all of your drawing for it (hell is under New Management)

i hope you're ready for this some rambling but ask and you shall receive!!! yes i waited to post this for superphantom week i gotta shill for my own event, y'know :9

So. You want to know more about King of Hell Danny, is it?

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

Well. Well. He's certainly Danny. Or more specifically I've decided as of recent, Dark Danny. I'm waffling on whether he's Dan Dark Danny or just... Phantom sans Plasimus. The latter feels less likely as i try to flesh him out, but you never know with these guys... he does prefer to look like his 14 yr old self though.

But whatever version he is of himself... it's post-TUE, and he hates himself more than anyone is allowed to know.

Not sure exactly how he ended up in the SPNverse (portal probably!), but he'd definitely prefer going back to his own world/dimension in a heavily buried sense of self-flagellation and unreliable narrator-ness.

Everyone is waiting for him there, not here, wherever he is exactly. This implies anyone is left alive, but he never said that. People (Crowley, etc.) just assume so.

and he's the worst lil jerk you could ever meet, at a first, second, and third, glance, anyway.

Smug cat, indeed. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, and taking over Hell felt right. (isn't that where he'd go? he thinks, after learning Hell is actually real.)

he's overpowered for sure, but it also comes from a misconception for what he is. Not a demon, not human, a secret Third Thing: weird ghost.

i like to think most regular ghost counter measures work on him, but no one thinks to try them because that ain't no ghost??? He plays the part really well though, pretending to be a demon (and gets mislabelled a crossroads demon for his red eyes) -- it doesn't bother him to kill people, but he doesn't go out of his way to do it anymore.

KOH!Danny having it out for the Winchesters is a very thoughtless and fun thing, and it would piss him off when they try to summon Crowley, but in all actuality, he'd probably end up begrudgingly working with them or something.

And ultimately betray them.

I also think his goal would be to fuse with Lucifer when he's freed from the Cage. That should give him enough power to bust a hole back to his OG dimension, right?

maybe. Who knows.

You can certainly find him at DIY skateparks across the globe. He's an asshole to anyone and everyone, but god have mercy on anyone looking to cause trouble while he's trying to have a good time (he feels guilty about it, though, having fun -- it's a circle of shame/guilt/fuck it we ball mentality, here for a good time not a long time).

he can 'see' Castiel's wings and if in his presense, will pluck at them because he's annoying like that.

Crowley became his lap dog though, regardless of intial beheadings because... Hell generates a lot of paperwork the way Crowley was running it, and KOH!Danny don't got the time for all of that.

eventually I'm sure someone will figure him out, ghost weaknesses and all, but it's not 1:1 SPNverse ghost: no bones to burn, no records of him being alive ever, etc., but he's definitely solid enough.

i could see a later quest like what the Winchesters did to find Crowley's remains, but they'd spiral down a hole of "where hell did this creature even come from???" and the Men of Letters/Angels/anyone wouldn't know jack about what he even is exactly.

i'm so rusty on SPN though... but those are my cobbled together ideas. I'd place him mid-ish seasons Supernatural (because ive only really seen s4 thru s8...) but i think the 'hijinks' of later seasons could be fun with the seriousness of early, early seasons sprinked in!

[cyberbun]

I think part of the reason I hate the switch so much is because I had years with my 3DS which had so many more social and artistic functions and all in all felt so much less... Sterile.

The 3DS had drawing, animation, music making apps that were more like toys than anything, a music player, a pretty Alright camera app, notes, a screenshot function, an entire social network, and you had stuff like legacy pictochat through the built-in DS emulator, SwapDoodle which I still wish worked because some of my warmest memories were of using the swapnote app to send people little doodles and letters, and a pretty robust mii maker. Streetpass made carrying teh console around actually fun, and for a while it was a pretty entertaining part of my daily routine. Everything had built-in animations and music that gave it so much personality. It really felt like, even if it wasn't as technically potent as a PSP or Vita, everything worked so well and was so polished and high quality. And themes! And badges! Folders! Wallpapers! How can I forget those. Everything in the 3DS' user experience felt like it had so much life to it. Also durable as all hell, a lot of them are still going despite being about 10 years old or more.

The switch? Minimalistic UI you can't customize or organize. No music. Barely any sound effects. A touchscreen but no pen to use it, so there are no decent apps to draw or make music or anything like that. Store barely works and starts lagging as soon as you navigate one page down. Absolutely flooded with shovelware. Sales section is useless because actually decent sales get buried under dozens upon dozens of android games that are 90% off forever. No social functions, you get a friend list and a screenshot function but that's about it. Online services that you have to pay for and barely work. Shitty wifi connectivity. None of the features they managed to cram into the little pocket-sized console 10 years ago. You don't even get any free apps to play with when you first open the console up. It just feels like a console designed from the ground up to be as economical and sanitized as possible. With less interactivity and personalization. "Less" is how I describe the entire console as a whole, really.

But hey. It's got HD rumble, I guess.

[vulpixisananimal]

(The characters Wren and Polaris belong to @fungal--wastes and @neoncityrain respectivley)

"Neeeearly there~"

(Isabeau was waiting in front of the homestead, so you decided to try something else. And that something else was breaking into one of the rooms from outside!)

(You were standing on Ramos' shoulders to get into one of the guest rooms on the second floor. You were digging your knife under the rim of a window to cut out the small lock. The rain didn't help, but Ramos was surprisngly sturdy.)

"T-take your time! I really wouldn't want you to fall a-and hurt yourself!" (Mira says, concerned.)

"Ha! Not like that'd be an issue anyways-"

"No!!!"

"H-hey careful, Isa might hear." (Ramos comments. They're right, gotta go quick. It should just be a bit more and. . .)

"Theeere we go!" (You say, smugly opening the window and climbing in.)

"W-what should we do, Siffrin?" (Mira calls up to you. You think a bit.)

"Try not to get touched? Maybe just be a distraction?" (You shrug.)

"We'll figure something out!" (Ramos gives you a thumbs up. You nod. Now, the room.)

(Small room. Single bed. There was a heavy looking pack by one side and a few clothes spread around the floor. There was a small desk with a well worn book on it, and a few papers. The bed was sloppily made, probably by someone who wanted it to look neat but still didn't want it to be a mess. There was a spear leaning against a wall. It was surprisingly chilly.)

(Whos room was this, anyway? Single bed, so none of your familys. Jans? No it would have more stuff, they lived here right? Not that bickering pair or bonded couple, you imagine they would have had a shared room. So that left that traveler.)

(Convenient!)

(You start at the pack, you had to move fast. Looking through it, it had a few changes of clothes, some rations, and a lot of things you didn't know what they were. Although they looked like something Odile would use. Maybe she was a researcher AND a traveler? Ha! Those two would get along. Some of the clothes looked wildly different, though. Fashion too?)

(You look up at the spear. . . Yep, that sure was a spear. Looked sturdy, long, and- dulled? Huh. The tip of the spear was blunt. Maybe it was for training.)

(Okay, then what about the papers and book? You go over to the desk and take a look. The papers were newspapers, a few letters from different people, oh it's research! They were all about the King and Time Craft. Didn't Odile say one time that scholars were really interested in Time Craft showing up?)

(None of the papers had anything you didn't already know about. You open the book.)

(. . . . . . Huh.)

(Flipping through the pages, you notice a lot of things. Theres a lot of drawing of landscapes, and people, and monsters. A lot of them had notes, too. That traveler must have a vivid imagination. There were notes about all sorts of things. Reminders written by the writer. And it looked like they were writing conversatons? Hmm. . .)

(You flip a few pages and stop. There's diagrams here. Measurments. Circles and symbols you didn't exactly recognise. Advanced craft? It looked VERY advanced whatever it was. You tried reading more, but it was getting more and more complicated. Maybe if you brought it to Odile-)

(You jump as a gloved hand reached around and covers your mouth. A second grabs you neck, both were freezing cold.)

"What the hell are you doing in our room." (You hear from a voice behind you. It sounded, very, very angry.)

(Ooooooooh stars oh that's, that's not good. Okay, okay you can deal with this Siffrin. And besides, you can also just try again. You mumble into the gloved hand.)

(Your assailant huffs, and uncovers your mouth.) "Quietly, now."

(Stars, what do you say?!?) "I-I uh, I-I was just looking around."

"Cut it!" (You feel that hand on your throat tighten, a familiar feeling.) "We are not in a mood for jokes."

(You hear the door to the room open and someone run inside, before closing it again. You smell mint. There's a new voice.) "Miss Vixul I- Who?!?"

"A thief, probably." (You hear, who you assume to be, Vixul say.)

"Unlikely, that is one of the Saviors of Vaugarde." (You hear the new voice say the title dripping with sarcasm.) "Although I suppose he could be both."

"N-nope!" (You squeeze out.) "J-just wanting to make sure the inn is s-safe to sleep in!"

"Lying." (Says the new voice.) "Miss if you could deal with this, I have to tend to Polaris."

"How is he?" (Vixul asks.)

"Befuddled still. Whatever is effecting his mind, it's strong."

(Wait!!!) "H-him, too?" (You mumble out.)

(There's a pause, and then the new voice talks.) ". . . Are others being effected by it, Savior?"

(You nod, frantically.) "M-my uh, u-uh, t-traveling companion, h-he, he's not himself right now."

"Traveling companion?" (You hear Vixul say in the same tone of voice Odile would use when talking about you two.) "Big buff guy?"

(You nod.) "T-that's why I'm here. It spreads by touch, a-and, I think you were the last to, to touch him, s-so. . ."

". . ." (There's a silence, Vixul speaks up eventually.) "You've dealt with this before, haven't you?"

(You nod.) "It smells like mint, spreads through touch. It changes your memories, or controlls you, o-or just, looks through them?"

"You do not sound very confident." (The new voice comments.) "But, that seems accurate."

". . . . ." (You hear Vixul sigh.) "I'm going to let you go. You're gonna help us with this, and we'll help you back. Don't even try to fight me, got it?"

"Can do!" (You laugh a little, your heart not in it.)

(She lets you go, you rub your neck and finally turn around to see who these two were- oh, three. The third person was unconscious and on the bed. You assume that was Polaris. The curly haired one was standing next to him. Vixul, was standing a few feet away, having grabbed the spear off the wall. She was glaring at you.)

(You breathe in, and out.) "Good to meet you two~"

(The curly haired one rolls his eyes.) "My name is Wren. This idiot is Polaris." (He says, gesturing to the unconscious one.)

"Vixul." (Says the tall one. Few words, huh.)

"Siffrin." (You smile at them.) "So! What happened?"

"Nope, you first." (Vixul says, glaring at you.) "You broke into my room after all. How do you know so much about mind craft."

"R-right. ." (You lean against a wall. Stars, where to start. Well, hmm, keep it vauge?) "Well, I experienced it first hand. Few weeks ago in Jouvente someone was going around messing with things."

"Details, please." (Says Wren, glaring at you.)

(Stars.) "Well. . . The person who was messing things was also being messed with. After sorting everything out, they uh, actually joined us on trying to find out who started it."

"Really?" (Vixul looked at you with a look that screamed dissapointment.) "That doesn't sound suspicious at all."

"I know I know!! Listen it just, made sense in the moment!!" (You shake your head.) "They still know some mind craft, and if they try anything they know I'll be after em."

"Stupid. If they know mind craft they'll just change your memory so you don't." (Wren retorts.) "You can't be that idiotic, right?"

(You wince, well, he WAS right.) "I. . . Have my ways?"

"There's a way to resist mind craft?" (He tilts his head.) "Tell."

(Stars above. Great. You look between the strangers you were talking to. No way you could bring THAT up here.) ". . . It's personal."

(You see Vixul and Wren give each other a look.)

". . . Fine, alright, how do we undo it." (Vixul asks, looking tired.)

"Last time there was a sort of charm that, once broken, dispelled the Mind Craft. It looked like a star."

(There was a silence as the two of them started thinking. You were thinking, too. Who was this trio anyways? They didn't seem like just ordinary travelers. You couldn't place Vixuls accent, and Wren seemed very. . . attentive.)

"So, what about him?" (You say, asking about Polaris.)

"Oh! Right." (Vixul huffed.) "Well that guy Isabeau, he went upstairs, came downstairs, said hi to me, hi to Polaris, Polaris said he felt sick, started acting weird, and Wren put him to sleep to take him up here. I got here first and found you and you know the rest."

(You nod, following along. So Isa started spreading mind craft after he went upstairs then back? Maybe it was someone up there who spread it to him. Then- wait a second.) "Why aren't you being effected by mind craft?"

(Vixul opens her mouth, then closes it, then looks away.) ". . . It's personal."

(Personal? What would be personal that could- oh.)

(Oooohhh. . .)

(She wasn't writing a conversation in her book, she was writing to herself. She resisted the mind craft. And she did say "we" instead of "I" earlier.)

(. . . . . .)

(. . . . Somehow, this makes you feel less alone.)

". . . Any other questions?" (Wren asks.)

"N-nope! That's all!" (You smile at them.)

(He nods, and sighs.) ". . . Then you should get going. Me and Vixul will look for that charm once Polaris is safe." (It was a very clear message of 'please leave'.)

"Sounds good to me~" (You say, walking over to the door.) "Don't be strangers now! Though, might want to work on your introductions."

"Same to you." (Vixul replies. Rolling her eyes.) "Try not looking through peoples stuff."

"No promises!" (You laugh a little. And open the door out.) "And if you need m- Oh!"

(Odile was standing in the hallway outside the room looking at you.)

(You wave to her.) "Morning, Odile! I was just-"

(She raises a hand towards you. What was she-)

<MOVE>

(You feel your body move on instinct at the sudden screaming inside your head. You jump back into Vixuls room You feel some powerful craft spell in the spot you were just standing-)

<Keep moving. Dangerous.>

(What?!? WHEN did you show up-)

"Oh what now!" (Vixul says, grabbing her spear and standing up.)

"I-I don't know! One of my companions, she-" (What WAS Odile doing?!?)

<Dangerous. A seal, or craft break, or->

(What do you MEAN?!?)

"She's likely effected by mind craft." (Wren takes up a position between the door and Polaris.)

(You see Odile appear in the doorway. She's not saying anything. She's sweating, like she's trying really hard to focus on. . . Something. She holds up a palm again.)

"Move it!!" (Vixul knocks you out of the and takes whatever craft spell Odile was using. She stumbles back.) "Hrrgh-"

"Miss Vixul!"

"I-I'm fine! Hey! Lady!! What's your problem?!?"

"Odile. . ." (You mumble, what, she's, being controlled too?!?)

<No time. Find a way out.>

(But, she, there's no way, right? She's too smart for that! She would have helped so much with this! And, a-and-)

<Enough. You look around the room. Window, Wren, books, Vixul, Odile, bed->

<Odile raises up her hand again, it looks like she's trying to say something.>

"Leave us alone, please." (Wren says, annoyed. He holds up a paper sign of his own, crackling with craft. You see Odiles spell get caught mid flight by Wrens. Counterspell?)

"O-Odile! What's going on what's, w-what-" (You stumble out.)

"That's Odile?" (Vixul asks, looking between you and her.) "I think she's trying to kill you, bud."

"B-but-"

"Go, Siffrin." (Wren says, preparing another counter.) "We will be fine."

(You open your mouth to protest, but your words get stuck in your throat. B-but, but she-)

<It's time to go.>

(Null wait, I- WAIT WAIT- WE NEED TO HELP ODILE!!)

<You make a dash for the window and jump out.>

[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - Part 3

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've had a hectic week. Thank you for all the support with my writing, I love you all ahhh.

@lilianelena39 Thank you for asking to be tagged! I hope you like it.

Masterlist

Part one Part two Part four

The days that followed were filled with shy touches and hidden smiles. It’s only been a week since you went on that date with James, and it hasn’t left your mind since. 

After eating, he’d ask you to read to him, you spent the rest of the date muttering the love story to James as he lay on his back, making comments now and then. 

The awkwardness of the first date was long gone, and you found yourself growing comfortable around him. He seemed more comfortable around you too, with the way he gripped your hand tightly in his or the way he relentlessly teased you. 

You were still quiet, barely muttering a few words but James filled in the silence. 

He was holding your hand now, you two having run into each other whilst you were on your way to the owlery. James had decided to ditch Sirius and Remus, claiming you were much nicer than them- earning a giggle from you and a scowl from Sirius. 

“You never finished that book,” James muttered, breaking the peaceful silence. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to know the ending,” You said honestly, James looked genuinely offended and you had to bite back a smile. 

“Of course I do, the letter was heartbreaking.” 

You grinned, “Well if you must know, he proposes again and she accepts.”

He let go of your hand, placing his hands over his ears as if it could erase what he just heard. “Spoilers!” 

You couldn't help the laugh that burst out of you, “The book came out years ago! There are spoilers everywhere!”

“Yes, but I was trying to hint at another date where you read to me again but I guess that’s not possible since you’ve told me the ending.” He grumbles, feigning anger as he reaches for your hand again. 

“Well…I never told you what happened to the others.”

He took the bait, “I am dying to know what happens with the others, so maybe if you’re up to it we could go on another date, say, this Saturday?” 

You pretended to think for a moment, “Saturday, hmm, I’m not sure.”

You both stop at the entrance of the owlery, James pulling you into him slightly. You couldn’t stop the blush painting your cheeks.

He’s never touched you like that before.

“I’ll beg if you want,” He whispers, laughing when you playfully hit his arm, cheeks redder than a tomato. 

“No begging is needed. Saturday is fine.” It left you three days to plan your outfit and mentally prepare. 

James grins triumphantly, following you around the owlery, hand still gently placed on your waist. 

—

You stared at the wobbly heart drawn on the inside of your wrist. You hadn’t noticed when it appeared but your eyes can��t look away. 

Not all soulmates are together romantically, sometimes they are platonic soulmates, hell, on rare occasions they’re enemies who despise each other. 

But there’s a part of you that hopes you and James are romantic soulmates. There’s also a part of you that’s still unsure about him. You two are complete opposites, you’re quiet, he’s loud, and you shrink away at any attention on you whereas James thrives in it. 

“Opposites attract, it’s basic science in the muggle world.” Lily had reassured you when you voiced your concerns. Maybe she was right. Merlin, you hoped she was right. 

But you push those thoughts away for now, noting you only have half an hour to finish getting ready. You’ll talk to James about your thoughts. If there’s one thing you hate most in romance books it is the miscommunication trope. 

You hastily draw a sloppy heart back before returning to your makeup. You keep it simple, applying a couple of coats of mascara and some concealer before adding lipgloss. 

Your outfit is simple, black jeans and the top you feel most comfortable in, paired with a thick coat to keep out the cold weather. 

You reach The Three Broomsticks in no time, relishing in the warmth. Noting James isn’t here yet, you find a secluded table in the corner.

A minute later James walks through the door, nose red from the cold. He perks up when he spots you, smiling warmly and he takes the seat across from you. 

You notice the heart on his wrist as he sits, his coat pulled up like he was staring at it just a moment ago. 

“You always seem to be here earlier than me, perhaps on our second date I’ll arrive an hour early to beat you.” Your heart flutters at the thought of him already planning a second date.

You’re silent, mind racing for something snarky to respond with. James doesn’t seem bothered by your silence, instead asks you if you’d like a butterbeer and you nod your head gratefully. 

You take the time he’s gone to calm your thoughts. It seems as if you haven’t pushed those thoughts from before down far enough.

“The weather has changed drastically since our first date, don’t you think?” James asks as he sits back down. You nod your head. Just two weeks ago you were wearing dresses but now it seems as if it’s going to snow at any moment. 

 “Climate change.” You respond dumbly. 

“I hope you brought the book with you, maybe we could find a quiet place for you to read for me. Or we could head back to the common room and you read to me there.”

You shake your head, “I couldn’t bring it, I didn’t want to risk bending it by putting it in a bag but didn’t want to risk getting it wet either.”

James seemed disappointed, “Later then, when we get back.”

You nod your head dumbly. 

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.” James’s eyes shine with amusement, a hint of concern peeking through. 

“Do you think we’d be happy together?” You blurt, taking a sip of the butterbeer to busy your fidgeting hands. 

“Yes,” James answers honestly, with no hesitation. “Do you not…think we’d be happy together?” He asks rather nervously. 

“We’re quite different from each other.”

He ponders for a moment, “Different isn’t always a bad thing, Love. We balance each other out.”

“Oh.” You’ve never thought of it from that perspective. Awkwardly taking a sip of your drink, you meet James’s eyes. “I just… I’m not used to attention- I hate it actually- and you’re popular so I can’t help but think once everyone finds out we’re dating they’re going to pay more attention to me.”

You’ve only met a couple of times since the first date, and besides the walk to the owlery, it was in secrecy. 

“We don’t have to tell people straight away- whatever this is. It can be our little secret, for now, Love. Is there anything else worrying you?” 

You shake your head. “It’s not very secretive if we’re sitting together in broad daylight in one of the most popular stores in Hogsmeade.”

He drains the rest of his drink, “I guess we’ll have to find somewhere else to go. Come with me.” You don’t miss the glint of mischief in his eyes but go to follow him anyway. 

“Where are we going?” You whisper, desperately trying to catch up as he runs through the snow. He stops a few minutes later and you attempt to catch your breath as you examine your surroundings. 

“Where are we?” You ask when you don’t recognise the place. There's nothing and no one around, just the path you came from.

“You’re not going to murder me are you?” 

James laughs, stalking closer, “I don’t plan on it, no. I’m rather fond of you.” 

Your heart skips a beat, “Even if we’re so different?” 

He nods, a small smile painting his face as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Of course, my Love. It would just be boring if we were so alike.” 

You nod your head in agreement, “It would, wouldn't it?” Ever so slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as one of his hands go to hold your jaw. 

His lips touch yours and like last time they’re soft and warm but unlike before, the kiss is filled with hunger.

He pulls you closer against him and you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair. James immediately deepens the kiss, tongue swiping across yours and you pull away in shock. 

He doesn’t let you go far, nose burrowing into your neck, “I’m sorry, Love. You just taste so good.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, breathless.

He laughs, “Yeah, Oh.”

—-

“That's how it ends?” James asks you, peering up from where his head lays on your lap, your hand threading through his soft curls. 

You’re laying on your bed. The common room was too busy and James stated the boys would just bother them if they went to his room so you shyly offered to read to him in your room.

The girls were all doing their own thing tonight, thankfully giving you and James time alone. 

You immediately thought of other things you could be doing alone but James seemed determined to hear the rest of the book and you weren't sure you wanted to do those activities with him yet. 

“I don’t get why that’s your favourite book,” At your offended look he continues, “Sorry, Love, but that's such a bad ending.”

You laugh incredulously, “It’s not a bad ending! They end up happy and in love.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” He jokes and you roll your eyes. 

“If you’re not a hopeless romantic then I want you to leave right now.” You point to the door playfully and James leans up, face inches from yours. 

“I’ll become a hopeless romantic for you,” He mutters, looking at your lips. 

“Good.” You push him off the bed and he groans in fake pain. “Go to bed, the girls will be back soon and I’ll never hear the end of it if they spot James Potter in my bed.”

“Fine. I want to see you soon though, maybe after the Quiddich game next week?” 

“Won’t you be too busy celebrating the win?” 

“You think we’re going to win?” He asks, happiness and shyness clear in his voice. His cheeks turn red when you nod, “I can think of other ways to celebrate the win with you, Love.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Go.”

He taps his lips and you can’t help but blush. You mean for it to be a quick peck but James has other ideas, tilting your head as he kisses you deeply. 

He places an open-mouthed kiss on your neck before leaving with a quick wink. 

As soon as the door closes you let out a squeal, kicking your feet as you hug your pillow to your chest tightly. 

“I heard that.” James’s voice resonates through the door. 

Your cheeks flush, “Go away.” 

His footsteps fade and you relax into your bed.

It’s only until the next morning that you notice the words on your wrist.

I’m kicking my feelings and squealing about you too. Not so different after all.