#and then i spread it to my friends but anyways

[eunoiiz]

☁︎—enhypen reassuring you about your relationship

☁︎synopsis—enhypen comforting you about their love for you₊˚ෆ

☁︎genre—hurt/comfort. enhypen hyung line x reader.₊˚ෆ

☁︎warning—crying. idk mentions of cheating or whatever. swearing. intended lowercase. not proofread. wc(range)˚˚˚300—500 each.₊˚ෆ

☁︎kassiddi's note—trying a headcannon!! or whatevs it's called i forgot… might do a maknae line !! but for now i decided to do something to upload (so it's rushed) and i also didn't know how to properly title this.₊˚ෆ

ʚɞ—lee heeseung˚˚˚

hearing from a handful of your friends that heeseung was cheating on you was not taken lightly to heart. your heart sank, throat stung and eyes began to fill with tears as your ears rang.

you never believed the “playboy” rumors since you met him, and he'd always denied them when people approached him and accused him of cheating on his exes. you believed him over these 3 months.

you turned around, heading for the office to call in sick, when you saw him. them. heeseung's face just inches away from one of the girls you'd thought was his ex.

you ran for the office, dropping your backpack to shed off some weight. you didn't have anything important in it, anyway.

the sound of running behind you soon after caused you to attempt to enter the girls restroom, but you didn't make it as the steps were faster. the person spun you around.

“what the fuck do you want heeseung?!” you shouted through streams of tears, trying to get him off you. “please, let me explain.” “what the fuck is there to explain? everyone was right about you, hee!” you ignored his pleas, releasing yourself from his grip and beginning to storm into the ladies restroom out of frustration.

“i’m not cheating on you, y/n, please believe me.” he begged, rambling as fast as possible before you walked too far into the bathroom to hear.

“then what was that, heeseung? how can you explain how close you were to miyeon, and all the rumors?” you wiped away your tears. “it wasn't anything y/n—” “it seemed like you were about to kiss her to me.” you couldn't face the male.

“i was angry with her y/n, i couldn't stand the rumors she was spreading and wanted to confront her before they got to you and made you like.. this.” he explained, trying to reassure you. but you weren't so sure, at all. you didn't know if you could believe him.

“she's been wanting me back since i broke up with her, and she's spread these rumors from the beginning. i’ve never cheated on anyone. please believe me, baby.” sincerity tainted his voice, and painted his face when you finally turned back around to look at him.

“do you promise? how do i know i can trust you?” your voice shook, the uncertainty remained. “i promise, love, please. miyeon was my first girlfriend, y/n. the crazy one i told you about. she hasn't changed. i’ll so anything to make you believe me.”

your heart rate slowed, although you still weren't sure you could trust him again.

“i’ll try to believe you hee.” you mumbled, allowing him to caress your check, using his thumb to swipe away your tears. “thank you, doll. i promise i'll prove my love to you, a hundred—no, a thousand times if i have to.”

ʚɞ—park jongseong˚˚˚

“y/n, i heard around that jay is just using you to get back at his ex, but im not sure. i hope it's false but i wanted to let you know, sorry.” jisung whispered into your ear while passing by during lunch, smiling apologetically at you.

you smiled back, though it quickly fell. deciding to confront your boyfriend before class started, you hurried eating. you were torn between anger and sadness.

you checked the time, 15 minutes until the bell rang. enough time to call his ass out, in private though.

your eyes searched the cafeteria, eventually landing on a blonde male, the best friend of your boyfriend, and your boyfriend right next to him.

standing up, tray in hand, you tossed it into the nearby trash, proceeding toward the man.

“up. we need to talk.” “wha—” “now.” you forced him up, tugging him by his hoodie sleeve into a more secluded area.

“what's this about, my love?” he questioned, a puzzled look plastered all over his face while he stood with his arms crossed.

“don't act so stupid with me, jongseong. you had me here loving you for months because i really thought you loved me but your only with me because you wanna make your ex jealous? what the hell?” you ranted, infuriated.

“woah, bae, slow down. what?” he quizzed, you could tell he was genuinely confused but you were too angry to take time to let him even breathe. “you know exactly what i mean, stop doing that.”

“y/n, slow down. you know im not like that, my love. who told you this?” he placated. “jisung! he's a distant friend, but i trust him! and he's not even the first person who I've heard this from. i think he got it from hyunjin, or leeseo, or maybe even minhee! it's just been going around too much and—” “darling…” he trailed off, silence taking over for ten seconds.

“you realize all of the people you just named don't even like you, right?” his hand reached for yours.

“oh.. well, still?...” you muttered, glancing away. your face heated, feeling a bit dumb but still unsure. “how do i know you aren't with me for that, though?”

“let's go talk to jisung first, okay? clear up somethings and ill come over later, darling. i love you.”

he interlinked your hands, “i love you too, seong.”

ʚɞ—sim jaeyun˚˚˚

you've never been able to get over the crush you've had on jake since you were little, but you also couldn't bring yourself to confess either.

“thank you, jakey!” a girl’s voice sounded through the halls.

turning the corner, you watched as the girl released her grip on his forearm and gave him a tight hug before he sent her off into the classroom. you hated that, such a small thing.

but it didn't feel right to feel so angry, he wasn't even yours.

you figured it would be better if you headed off to your own class, and tried to forget about it so you’d feel better. lunch was after one more period.

maybe he could hang out with his new girlfriend that he hadn't even told you about, and you'll spend lunch with someone else.

when the bell rang, you packed up as quickly as possible, not wanting to encounter them again. even though you still caught a glimpse of them on your way to your next class.

“y/n—” “in a hurry!” you spewed, speeding down the hall and past the couple, you did not want an introduction to his new girlfriend. you wanted to be his new girlfriend for years, but those chances seemed like zero.

so once again, when the bell rang, you made sure to pack up as quickly as possible. but when you stepped outside, you saw a face you didn't want to at that moment.

“oh, think i left something in my last class, jake! you should head to lunch—” “what's up with you? i've been trying to introduce you to my cousin! she's 2 grades behind us, i was hoping you were okay with helping me show her around, y/n. you could've said you weren't.” jake explained.

holy, did you feel stupid?

“..cousin?” you were stunned, internally killing yourself. “yes? why? someone jealous?” he smirked, obviously teasing but you might as well spill it.

“yes, actually.. i thought she was your girlfriend and i thought my chances with you were gone and—” a peck, another, another, and another that turned into a longer kiss.

“i thought you didn't feel the same, pretty.”

ʚɞ—park sunghoon˚˚˚

“y/n, would you help me with something?” sunghoon called you over. “yeah, what is it?” you stood up, walking over to his desk and pulling up a chair right next to his.

“this is a confession letter! im giving it to yuna, i just need to go over the grammar and decorate it a bit—”

“confession letter?” your brows furrowed, jealousy starting to build up inside of you. “uhm, yeah! can i get that help?” he asked, holding the card out in front of your face.

“oh, yes of course, should i go over the grammar?” he nodded. you flipped open the card, the corners decorated in pink bows, the edges lined in pink glitter and the i’s dotted in hearts. you wanted to rip up the card, a bit overwhelmed by jealousy.

“i would like to be your valentine…. mmmm.. you're the most stunning girl I've ever seen…. i’ve had feelings for you for so long..” you read aloud as sunghoon watched your expression. “seems all good to me, i also didn't know you could decorate like this, hoon.” you caressed the bows, all the things you loved drawn into a card—that wasn't for you.

“only the best for who i love, right?” he smiled, taking back the card.

“right.. anything else?” you tried to keep your composure, not wanting to spill all your emotions out to your best friend who didn't seem to feel the same.

“yes can you help with this envelope? i need to decorate it and sign it. mind using these glitter pens? oh and make sure to add the bows in the corners!” he exclaimed, turning to his laptop and focusing on a level he'd been trying to be on his game.

a couple moments later and you slip the card into the pastel envelope. “there.” you slid it across the desk. “perfect, she's gonna love it.” he smiled proudly. “you're the best, n/n.”

“mhm. you never told me you had a crush, hoon?” your eyes never left the card, neatly tucked into the envelope. it bothered you so much and you couldn't shake that feeling.

“well, i actually wanted to tell you after i handed yuna the card, but i guess there's no point now.” he scratched his nape, then reached toward his mini shelf and between books.

he pulled out another card, decorated similarly. “no kidding, hoon. why have me help make a card look all pretty for her and then tell me you liked her? and for so long?” you were so upset, but you didn't want that to show.

“liked her? ….yuna? oh, no stupid. this is for jake! he had soccer practice so he wanted help with a confession card, because valentine's day's tomorrow and he didn't think he'd have enough time.” sunghoon explained, the other card in his other hand, sliding it towards you.

“read this, y/n.” you picked up the card, opening the envelope and then the card.

‘dear y/n, i’ve had feelings for you for so long and could never tell if you felt the same, but i wanna ask you now, would you be my valentine? you're the most wonderful girl and i’m so lucky to have you. (hopefully) you're future boyfriend, sunghoon’

“oh my gosh, sunghoon. i hate you so much.” you smiled to yourself, taking a moment to take it in. “so.. is that a no?” he joked, laughing. “no you idiot, i’d love to be your valentine, and future girlfriend.”

thank you for reading♡ i appreciate any interaction with my writing, i just do it for fun(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

please do not steal or repost on any platform. i only publish these to tumblr under the username eunoiiz.

[soleilpinto]

Hexes and Heartbeats (Ollie Bearman) ִ🪄 ࣪𖤐ִ ࣪

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bearman,”🔮 〜 ⁺ ̥ ＊

Synopsis: Y/N Browning, Slytherin’s top student, and Ollie Bearman, Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain, have always clashed. But when McGonagall pairs them up for a project, their rivalry turns into something unexpected. As they spend more time together, Y/N learns that letting someone in might not be so bad after all.

Genre: Slowburn, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers

AU: Hogwarts!au

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Fem!Reader

Warnings: If being an asshole is a warning I’m putting that in.

Note: To be completely honest this was a random idea that came up because I was looking for F1 x Harry Potter fics and couldn’t find any, so I made my own? Anyways, I hope you guys nerd out to this because I miss the Hogwarts rabbit hole I used to go through in 2020. As always, don’t forget to like + reblog if you enjoyed!

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered for dinner, their victorious faces beaming from yet another win.

You couldn’t stop the sneer that tugged at your lips when your eyes landed on Ollie Bearman, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.

Of course, he was the first to stand up and wave at the crowd, soaking in their adoration like a smug, self-satisfied lion.

Ollie Bearman. The perfect Gryffindor.

Everything about him annoyed you—from his flawless posture to the way he casually tossed his messy brown hair as though it were some kind of trademark move.

He wasn’t just a Quidditch captain, he was the golden boy, the darling of every Gryffindor. His confidence was unshakable, and it rubbed you the wrong way more than you cared to admit.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your dinner, not sparing him another glance. But it wasn’t enough to escape the sound of his laughter as he shared a joke with his teammates, their boisterous voices filling the room.

You hated it.

You hated how effortlessly he commanded attention, how everyone just adored him for no reason other than the fact that he was a Gryffindor. You hated how he walked around like he owned the place.

That was when your friend, Isla, nudged you.

"He's looking at you," she whispered with a mischievous grin.

You narrowed your eyes, knowing exactly who she meant.

Ollie Bearman, no doubt enjoying the fact that you were sitting there fuming over his mere existence.

You didn’t even have to look up—he was probably grinning that cocky grin of his.

“I don’t care,” you muttered, stabbing your fork into your food. “He’s just some Quidditch-obsessed Gryffindor who thinks the world revolves around him.”

“Careful, Y/n," Isla teased, her tone mocking. "You wouldn't want to lose your cool in front of the Quidditch King."

You scoffed, too irritated to respond. Ollie Bearman had somehow managed to turn Quidditch into his entire identity.

He had that perfect, shiny Gryffindor arrogance—an arrogance that made you sick.

Later that evening, you found yourself at the Three Broomsticks with a few friends, attempting to unwind after a long week of academic stress.

You hadn’t expected to see him here. But of course, Ollie Bearman and his teammates stormed in, laughing and talking too loudly for your liking.

They sat at a table near yours, and you had no choice but to overhear the conversation. Ollie’s voice carried through the air, boasting about his latest victory.

“You should’ve seen the look on their faces,” Ollie said, grinning ear to ear. “We were unbeatable today. Another win for Gryffindor!”

The table around him laughed, and your irritation bubbled over. You couldn’t take it anymore.

"Must be nice, winning at a game that involves no real strategy," you called out, your voice cutting through the room.

Isla shot you a look of warning, but it was too late. The challenge had been thrown down.

Ollie’s gaze shifted to you, that familiar, infuriating smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the Slytherin genius,” he drawled, his voice dripping with that all-too-familiar arrogance. “What’s the matter, couldn’t handle being in second place in the academic race?”

A flare of heat rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t back down.

“At least I don’t think winning a game with a broom makes me important,” you retorted, leaning back in your chair with a challenge in your eyes.

“Perhaps if you spent a little more time in the library and less time with your broomstick, you’d understand how real success works.”

A few of his teammates snickered, but Ollie didn’t miss a beat. He stood up, crossing the room toward you with a confident swagger.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure books are very important in your world,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned casually against your table.

“But in the real world, we have to do things to prove our worth. Not just sit around and read about them.”

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing. “I’d rather be doing something productive than pretending a game about flying on a stick matters. You’d never understand the importance of intellect, Bearman.”

His eyes flashed with amusement, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we, Browning?”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of sharp words, unspoken challenges, and ever-present tension between you and Ollie.

The rivalry was no longer just about House pride—it had become personal, a battle between two personalities that seemed destined to clash.

The days after the confrontation at the Three Broomsticks felt like a storm was brewing. Every time you crossed paths with Ollie Bearman, that same, infuriating smirk was plastered on his face.

As if you hadn’t already made it clear you couldn’t stand his presence.

You tried your best to ignore him, to focus on your studies and maintaining your position as the top student of your year. But every time you heard his laugh or saw his arrogant grin, the heat of frustration flared up again.

It was a cold afternoon when you found yourself once again in a situation where you had no choice but to deal with Ollie.

Professor McGonagall had just announced that the students of your year were being assigned to work together for an extra-credit project on magical creatures.

The task? Track down and document a rare and dangerous magical beast deep in the Forbidden Forest. The catch? Every pair had to be carefully chosen by the professors—and, of course, in their infinite wisdom, McGonagall had paired you with none other than Ollie Bearman.

You had tried to argue, but McGonagall had simply raised an eyebrow and told you, “This will help you learn how to work with someone outside your usual circle, Miss Browning.”

You had to bite back the sarcastic remark that was already forming on your tongue.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to work with someone you didn’t like, but it was the first time you’d been forced into a group with Ollie.

When you met him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest the next morning, he was already waiting, leaning casually against a tree, looking like he had absolutely no concerns in the world.

His Gryffindor confidence was on full display, and you could already feel the annoyance bubbling in your stomach.

"Finally decided to show up, Browning?" he teased, pushing off from the tree and smiling like he knew he had won some small victory just by getting there first.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bearman,” you snapped back, brushing past him without making eye contact. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He smirked, but for once, it wasn’t filled with that usual arrogance. There was something else in his eyes—something more playful, like he was daring you to rise to the challenge.

“I’m just here for the creature,” he said, “but I have to admit, working with you might make this a little more interesting.”

You turned to face him, glaring. “Let’s just get one thing clear. If you get in my way, Bearman, I will leave you here. I don’t need some Quidditch-obsessed Gryffindor to get this job done.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your defiance.

“You sure about that? I seem to recall your strategy didn’t go so well in the last encounter with a magical creature. Maybe you could use my help after all.”

Your teeth clenched. You remembered that disastrous incident in the classroom last week when Ollie had pointed out, in front of the whole class, that your spell had backfired, causing your potion to explode. He had never let you forget it, using it as ammunition in every argument ever since.

“You really are full of yourself,” you muttered under your breath, but Ollie seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

“Only because I know I’m better than you,” he shot back, his grin widening as you shot him a glare.

With no other choice, you set off into the woods, Ollie following closely behind, still full of his usual swagger.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, the atmosphere grew more oppressive, the shadows from the tall trees stretching across the path, thickening with every step.

You could hear the distant rustling of magical creatures in the underbrush, but Ollie seemed oblivious, happily whistling as though he was on a leisurely walk in the park.

“Stay focused,” you snapped, reaching for your wand. “This isn’t a game, Ollie.”

He finally stopped whistling, giving you a mock salute. “Aye, captain.”

You bit back a retort, knowing that any attempt to argue would only fuel his insufferable attitude. But despite your frustration, there was a small part of you that begrudgingly admired how easily he navigated the forest.

It was clear he had an innate sense of bravery, charging forward with little fear of the dangers lurking behind every tree.

Suddenly, a rustling sound interrupted your thoughts. You immediately raised your wand, ready for whatever creature might appear. But Ollie’s reaction was even quicker.

He darted ahead, using his quick reflexes to grab something darting out of the brush before you could cast a spell.

In a fluid motion, he captured a small, silver-winged creature in his hand, holding it out to you with a grin.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You blinked, stunned for a moment.

The creature he held was delicate, shimmering with magical energy. It was a rare species you had studied in class, but had never seen in person.

For a brief moment, you felt something other than annoyance toward Ollie. He had done something impressive. Something that actually required skill.

It wasn’t enough to erase all the bitterness you felt toward him, but it was a crack in the armor of your dislike.

“You’re not as useless as I thought,” you muttered, lowering your wand, though your tone was still clipped.

Ollie gave a soft laugh. “I can be more than just a Quidditch captain, you know. I do have a bit of brain in this head.”

You shot him a skeptical glance, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t get cocky, Bearman. We still have a long way to go.”

The journey continued with more shared silences and subtle exchanges of respect. Neither of you was willing to admit it, but something was shifting—an uneasy truce beginning to form as you ventured deeper into the forest, side by side.

As the day stretched on, and the deeper you and Ollie ventured into the Forbidden Forest, the more you realized just how much you were beginning to notice him.

Every sharp turn he made, every instinctual move to keep you safe—whether it was spotting a dangerous creature or grabbing your arm to pull you out of harm’s way—you couldn’t deny that there was more to Ollie Bearman than the smug Gryffindor captain you had loathed for years.

It made you uncomfortable, to be honest. You had built an entire narrative in your head about who Ollie was: arrogant, reckless, and obsessed with Quidditch.

But seeing him here, out in the wild, working as a team with you—granted, begrudgingly—you realized that you hadn’t really seen him at all.

“So,” Ollie began, breaking the silence, “what do you actually think of Quidditch, then? I know you think it’s pointless, but I’m curious. If you were the captain, what would you change?”

You turned to look at him, surprised at the question. It wasn’t like Ollie to ask about your opinion unless it involved him somehow proving he was better than you.

Still, you could see a shift in the way he looked at you—a more curious, thoughtful gaze.

“I think Quidditch is just a distraction,” you said, your voice guarded.

“It’s just... a game. People treat it like it’s the most important thing in the world, but at the end of the day, it’s just about winning and losing. There’s no real value in it beyond that.”

Ollie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t seem angry. Instead, there was a spark of interest in his expression.

“So you think there’s no skill involved? That I’m just some distracted player?”

“No,” you corrected quickly, shaking your head.

“I didn’t say that. There’s skill, of course, but I don’t think it’s worth putting everything into. There’s more to life than flying on a broomstick and chasing a ball around.”

Ollie stopped walking, and for a moment, he was silent, almost as if he was processing your words.

You glanced over your shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on the ground, a thoughtful expression on his face.

The forest felt strangely still around you, the usual rustling of leaves replaced by the weight of the moment.

“You know,” Ollie finally said, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “sometimes I think you’re a little bit too serious for your own good. But I get it. You’re a Slytherin. You’re supposed to think everything else is beneath you.”

You bristled at his words. “I don’t think anything is beneath me. I just know what I want, and I don’t waste time on things that won’t get me anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your defensiveness. “Is that why you’re so... intense? So determined to always be the best at everything?”

The question hit a little too close to home.

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Ollie chuckled, that easy, carefree laugh that always seemed to get under your skin.

“Fine, fine. But you know, if you ever decided to relax a little... maybe you’d see there’s more to life than books and grades.”

You shot him a sharp look. “And maybe if you focused on something other than Quidditch, you’d realize there’s more to the world than winning games.”

Ollie’s smile faltered just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. He took a deep breath, eyes scanning the forest around you, and then gave you a sideways glance.

“Well, I guess we’re both just trying to prove we’re right about something,” he said softly, his tone a little less playful than before.

“Maybe that’s what makes us so similar.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, still walking, but there was an odd sense of understanding in the way he held himself now.

“We both care too much about proving ourselves. You do it with your studies, I do it with Quidditch. We both put so much into what we’re passionate about... maybe that’s why we clash so much.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of you wanted to argue, to maintain the rivalry that had always defined your relationship, but another part of you—the part that had seen Ollie’s vulnerability for the first time—wanted to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

Before you could say anything, a loud, eerie screech echoed from deeper within the forest.

The sound was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and Ollie’s expression shifted instantly into something more serious, more focused.

“That’s our cue,” he said, his voice now all business. “Stay close. It sounds like the creature we’re after.”

The next few hours passed in a blur of action. You and Ollie worked seamlessly together, your skills complementing each other in ways you hadn’t expected.

He was quick on his feet, fearless in the face of danger, while you used your knowledge of magical creatures to help guide your strategy.

There was a trust that had developed between you during the hunt, one that neither of you would acknowledge aloud, but it was there all the same.

When you finally managed to capture the rare creature and return to the castle, both of you were exhausted but victorious.

It was a rare moment of quiet between the two of you, standing just outside the entrance to the Forbidden Forest, the last of the evening light filtering through the trees.

Ollie turned to you, his gaze softer than you were used to. “Not bad, Browning. You might not be as insufferable as I thought.”

You smirked, still unwilling to admit how much you had come to respect him.

“You were all right too, Bearman. For a Gryffindor.”

He chuckled, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Guess you’ll just have to keep finding out how much more all right I can be.”

Your heart skipped in spite of yourself. It was infuriating, how easily Ollie seemed to get under your skin now.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the strange warmth in his voice, but something had shifted between the two of you.

And for the first time, you found yourself wondering—just for a second—if there was more to Ollie Bearman than just a Quidditch captain.

It had been a week since the Forbidden Forest trip, and the dynamic between you and Ollie had changed in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

While you were still far from friends, there was an undeniable shift. The tension that had once been a sharp, uncomfortable friction had softened into something that, though still fiery, was less about animosity and more about... understanding.

You found yourself meeting Ollie’s gaze more often than you cared to admit, and not in the usual confrontational way.

It was as if there was a silent acknowledgment between the two of you—the rivalry was still there, but it was starting to feel more like a game than a battle. And while you hated to admit it, you found yourself appreciating his quick reflexes, his unwavering determination.

He was more than just a Quidditch captain. He was actually... smart. Annoyingly smart.

But your thoughts were interrupted when Isla, your closest friend, cornered you in the library one afternoon, her eyes gleaming with the kind of curiosity you knew all too well.

"So," she began, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, "I’ve noticed something."

You looked up from your textbook, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play coy with me," Isla teased, leaning in conspiratorially. "You and Ollie Bearman. Something’s... happening, isn’t it?"

You froze, the quill in your hand suddenly still. "What? No. I—" You stammered, trying to find an excuse.

"He’s just—he’s a Gryffindor. We’re working on a project together. That’s it."

Isla raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Sure. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other during dinner. You can cut the tension with a knife."

You leaned back in your chair, trying to collect yourself. "Isla, you’re imagining things. There’s nothing happening between us."

“Nothing, huh?” Isla’s grin widened, and she sat down beside you. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re not exactly hating him as much as you used to.”

You glanced around the library nervously. What if someone overheard? What if Ollie had been talking about the trip? What if your friends noticed the shift in your dynamic?

"Fine," you muttered, a bit too defensively. "Maybe he’s... not as bad as I thought."

Isla’s eyes lit up, and she leaned in even closer. "Ah, so there is something going on. I knew it!"

You scowled, pushing your book aside. "There’s nothing going on," you repeated firmly, though your tone lacked the conviction you had hoped for.

Before she could push any further, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind you.

You turned just in time to see Ollie himself walking through the library doors, his usual grin plastered across his face as he waved at you.

“Hey, Browning,” he called out in his typical teasing tone, strolling up to your table. “You surviving this mind-numbing assignment?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It had only been a few minutes since you had been talking about him with Isla, and now here he was, acting like everything was perfectly normal.

You glared at him, but there was a strange warmth behind your annoyance.

“I was,” you said coolly, “until you interrupted me. What do you want?”

Ollie smirked, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Just thought I’d remind you that we’re meeting for the next part of our project later. Don’t forget. You know, it’s important to show up on time if you want to get the extra credit.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in his tone made you want to snap back with a witty retort.

"I won’t forget, Bearman. I’m not the one who’s too busy playing Quidditch to focus on anything else."

Ollie chuckled, clearly amused, and winked at you before turning to leave. "See you later, Browning. Try not to fall asleep on me, yeah?"

As soon as he was out of earshot, Isla grinned at you like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, it’s definitely happening."

You groaned and dropped your head onto your arms. “Can’t you just drop it already?”

Isla just laughed, her voice barely a whisper.

“I know you better than anyone, and something’s definitely changed. The way you two talk to each other? It’s not the same as before. Trust me, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The rest of the week seemed to drag on. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Ollie was always just a little too close—whether it was in the library, during classes, or even in the hallways after dinner.

It was as if your interactions with him were becoming less about the rivalry and more about something else entirely. Something confusing and... undeniably thrilling.

Then came the day when everything started to unravel.

You were heading to the Quidditch pitch with Isla after lunch when you ran into a couple of Ollie’s teammates, and much to your surprise, they didn’t give you the usual hostile treatment they reserved for Slytherins. Instead, they greeted you with an odd mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“Hey, Y/N,” one of them, Emma, said with a smile. “How’s the project going with Ollie? We’ve been hearing rumors that you two are getting along better than expected.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. Rumors?

“Yeah,” another teammate, Alex, chimed in. “It’s kind of hard to ignore how you two have been looking at each other lately. You two might actually make a decent team after all.”

Before you could stop yourself, your face flushed bright red, and Isla’s snicker didn’t help.

“What exactly are you all implying?” you demanded, though your voice trembled slightly.

Emma raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no need to bite our heads off. We’re just saying, you two don’t hate each other as much as you used to. You’re practically friends now. Or whatever this is.”

You couldn’t meet their eyes as you quickly excused yourself, your mind racing with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment.

Were people really starting to notice? Were you actually starting to... like Ollie Bearman?

Isla shot you a knowing look as you walked away, and you knew you couldn’t hide the truth from her—or yourself—any longer.

The days after the encounter with Ollie’s teammates were a blur. It felt like everyone in school had caught wind of the fact that you and Ollie were spending more time together.

Even though it wasn’t true that you two were “friends,” it was starting to feel like something was changing.

The constant teasing from Isla and your classmates was starting to wear on you, but what bothered you the most was how often Ollie seemed to pop into your thoughts when you weren’t expecting it.

You could handle Isla’s teasing. She was your friend, after all. But it was Ollie’s subtle hints, the small gestures that seemed almost too thoughtful, that kept you off-balance.

Like when he saved you a seat at the Gryffindor table during dinner because your houses table was full or when he offered you his notes after class, claiming he had taken "extra care" to write neatly because he knew you’d appreciate it.

But you didn’t need to think about it. You had a reputation to maintain, and Ollie Bearman wasn’t someone you needed to be distracted by.

Still, every time you crossed paths with him, you couldn’t help but feel that strange flutter in your chest.

One evening, as the hectic exam season drew to a close, you found yourself walking down the hall toward the Slytherin dungeons, your mind occupied with thoughts of an upcoming project.

You hadn’t expected to run into Ollie that night. The hallways were unusually quiet, the only sound being the faint echo of footsteps on stone. But then you saw him.

Ollie was leaning against the wall just outside the entrance of your common room, his eyes scanning the hall with a kind of distracted look.

When he noticed you, though, his face lit up, and that familiar grin appeared.

“Y/N,” he greeted casually, though there was something different in the way he said your name this time. More familiar, less teasing.

You paused for a second, almost instinctively pushing your hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he replied without skipping a beat, his tone light but his eyes earnest.

“I was hoping we could talk.” You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “Talk? About what?”

“About... us, I guess,” Ollie said, shifting slightly as though trying to find the right words.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately despite us being partners, and I get it. We’re not exactly the best of friends, but... well, I’m starting to think there’s something here.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Something here? What are you talking about?”

Ollie pushed off the wall and took a step closer. You felt your pulse quicken, but you weren’t sure if it was from irritation or something else entirely.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he continued, the words spilling out more earnestly now.

“For the longest time, I thought you were just some Slytherin who hated everything I stood for—Quidditch, Gryffindor pride, all of it. But recently, I’ve started to see... I’ve started to see you differently.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Your mind raced. See you differently? What did that mean?

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Ollie continued, his gaze not leaving yours.

“How we’ve spent all this time bickering, but when it comes down to it, you’re actually—” he paused, searching for the words “—you’re actually kind of incredible. You’re clever, driven, and... I don’t know, I can’t stop thinking about how you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat, but you weren’t ready to admit anything.

Not yet. Not with Ollie Bearman, of all people.

“You’re just saying that because you think I’ll help you pass the next exam, right?” you tried, your voice betraying more uncertainty than you wanted.

But Ollie shook his head, his expression serious now, and you could see the honesty in his eyes.

“No, that’s not it. This is... this is me. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I realized that I like being around you. I’m not saying it’s easy, but I think I’ve started to care about you in a way I didn’t expect.”

Your chest tightened. “Ollie...”

“I don’t know what this is, Y/N,” Ollie said, running a hand through his hair. “I just... I don’t want to pretend it’s not there anymore. I’m tired of pretending you’re just some annoying Slytherin I have to tolerate.”

You blinked, caught in the weight of his words. It felt like your world had shifted under your feet.

You had spent so much time hating him, convincing yourself that nothing could ever come of your rivalry. But now, standing in front of him, you realized how much of that was self-preservation.

How much of it was denial.

“Are you... saying what I think you’re saying?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ollie stepped closer, his voice low. “I don’t know what you think I’m saying, but I think I’m saying that I want to find out what could happen between us. If you’re willing to take the chance.”

The hallway felt suddenly smaller, the walls closing in on you as your thoughts collided with each other.

You wanted to resist. You wanted to shout at him and remind him that nothing could ever happen between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. That your lives had always been dictated by competition, by rivalry.

But as you looked into Ollie’s eyes, the one thing that was undeniable was how real the emotion was in his gaze. How much he meant it.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I am,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung heavy between you, neither of you daring to break the silence, yet somehow it felt like everything was finally coming into focus.

You took a deep breath, swallowing the uncertainty. Maybe it was time to let go of all the reasons you had built up to keep him at arm’s length. Maybe there was something worth exploring here after all.

“Alright,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart. “I’m willing to see where this goes. But you have to understand something, Ollie. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

Ollie grinned, his playful side creeping back into his expression. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You took another breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on your shoulders. But for the first time in weeks, you felt a strange sense of anticipation, a spark of something that had been there all along but was only now beginning to surface.

Something had shifted since Ollie’s confession, and while nothing had officially been said about your “status,” there was a new air of familiarity between you.

He no longer teased you with the same sharp edges, and his glances felt warmer, less challenging.

You couldn’t deny it: there was something comforting about the way he had started treating you—not like an opponent, but like someone he genuinely cared about.

Still, the adjustment wasn’t easy for you.

Slytherins weren’t exactly known for public displays of affection, and Gryffindors like Ollie seemed to have no problem making their intentions known to the entire school.

Which was why, when Ollie showed up outside your Potions class one afternoon, leaning casually against the wall in his Quidditch robes, you nearly froze in your tracks.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, keeping your voice low as your classmates filtered out of the classroom, all of them throwing curious looks your way.

Isla, walking beside you, stifled a laugh behind her hand.

“Waiting for you, obviously,” Ollie said with that signature grin of his. “I thought we could walk to lunch together.”

You glanced around nervously, painfully aware of how many eyes were on you.

“Ollie, this is a Slytherin corridor. You’re not exactly... welcome, here.”

“Good thing I’m not afraid of Slytherins,” he replied breezily. “Come on, Y/N, it’s just lunch.”

Isla shot you a knowing look. “Oh, I don’t mind. This is fascinating. Please, by all means, walk her to lunch, Gryffindor hero.”

You shot her a glare before turning back to Ollie. “Fine. But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

Ollie’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the two of you walked side by side through the bustling hallways, the whispers were impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t every day that the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was seen escorting the top Slytherin student through the castle.

You could feel your face heat up with every passing glance.

By the time you reached the Great Hall, you were ready to sprint to your table just to escape the scrutiny. But Ollie, completely unbothered, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” he said softly. “They’ll get over it.”

“You don’t get it,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. “People are going to talk. They’ll think I’ve gone soft. I’m not used to... this.”

Ollie stopped walking, turning to face you. His hazel eyes were calm, steady.

“Hey,” he said, his tone gentle. “I know this is new. I know it’s not easy for you. But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not to your friends, not to your house, not to me. Just... be yourself. That’s all I want.”

You hesitated, his words sinking in. For someone so brash and confident, he had a way of making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected. Slowly, you nodded.

“Alright. But if anyone asks, I’m still your rival.”

Ollie chuckled. “Deal.”

At that moment, a familiar voice interrupted. “What’s this?”

You turned to see Arvid Lindblad and Kimi Antonelli approaching, both wearing amused expressions.

Arvid, a Hufflepuff with a mischievous streak, crossed his arms. “Bearman, are you seriously ditching us for your Slytherin rival?”

Kimi, a Ravenclaw whose sharp mind matched his dry sense of humor, raised an eyebrow. “This is... unexpected.”

Ollie grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders with zero hesitation. “What can I say? She’s growing on me.”

You immediately ducked out from under his arm, your face burning. “Don’t push it, Bearman.”

Arvid burst out laughing. “Oh, this is great. I can’t wait to tell the rest of the team.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ollie warned, though he was still smiling.

From the Slytherin table, your friends, Isla and Hayley watched the scene unfold, their faces split into identical grins.

“You owe me five Galleons,” Hayley said smugly.

Isla groaned, fishing the coins out of her pocket. “Fine, but I still say she’s going to hex him eventually.”

By the time you and Ollie reached the Gryffindor table, you were convinced that everyone in the castle had seen you together. But as Ollie sat down beside you, his easy confidence never faltering, you realized something: you didn’t mind as much as you thought you would.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

After a few months of seeing Ollie, the day of the highly anticipated Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match arrived, and the castle buzzed with excitement.

The rivalry between the houses was infamous, and the stands were packed with students decked out in their respective house colors.

Green and silver banners clashed with scarlet and gold as chants echoed through the stadium.

You sat in the Slytherin stands, arms crossed, trying to ignore the pang of nerves bubbling in your chest.

Isla nudged you, smirking. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re rooting for Gryffindor today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snapped, though your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the field where Ollie was leading his team through warm-ups. His movements were precise, commanding, and frustratingly confident.

Focus, you told yourself. He’s your rival, and Gryffindor needs to lose.

As Madam Hooch blew the whistle, the match began in a frenzy of motion.

The Gryffindor Chasers darted through the air, their passes quick and seamless, but Slytherin’s Keeper was on form, blocking their shots with ease.

You found yourself gripping the edge of your seat, every play pulling you further into the match.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that the tension really exploded.

Ollie, playing as Gryffindor’s Seeker, was locked in a tight race with the Slytherin Seeker, each of them diving after the Snitch.

The crowd roared as the two streaked through the sky, narrowly avoiding collisions with the other players.

“Come on, Ollie!” Arvid’s voice carried from the Hufflepuff stands, and you winced despite yourself. Don’t mess this up, you thought.

Then it happened. A Slytherin Beater sent a Bludger hurtling toward Ollie at a dangerous speed.

You watched in horror as he barely managed to dodge, his broom wobbling for a moment before he righted himself. But the distraction was enough—the Slytherin Seeker had gained the upper hand.

“No!” you gasped, earning a smirk from Isla.

“Interesting reaction for someone who’s supposed to be cheering for Slytherin,” she teased.

You scowled, but before you could reply, the Snitch was spotted again. This time, Ollie was faster.

He leaned forward on his broom, the determination on his face clear even from your spot in the stands.

The Slytherin Seeker was close behind, but Ollie’s outstretched hand closed around the Snitch just seconds before they collided.

The stadium erupted in cheers and groans.

Gryffindor had won.

As the teams landed, the Gryffindor players rushed to Ollie, lifting him onto their shoulders in celebration.

You stayed seated, watching as he grinned and held the Snitch aloft. The sight filled you with equal parts annoyance and something you couldn’t quite name.

When the crowd began to disperse, you made your way back toward the castle, hoping to avoid the inevitable gloating. But before you could slip away, a familiar voice called out behind you.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned to see Ollie jogging toward you, still in his Quidditch robes and looking infuriatingly triumphant.

“What do you want, Bearman?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“To talk,” he said, falling into step beside you. “You don’t look too happy for someone who just witnessed an incredible game.”

“Why would I be happy? My house lost,” you pointed out, though your tone lacked its usual bite.

Ollie smirked. “Come on, I saw you watching me. You can admit it—I was pretty impressive out there.”

“You were reckless,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “That Bludger nearly took you out.”

He shrugged. “Part of the game. Besides, I knew you’d be worried about me.”

“I wasn’t worried about you,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.

Ollie stopped walking, turning to face you with that annoyingly confident smile. “You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but his expression softened, and he stepped closer.

“Look, I know this whole... thing between us is new. And I know you’re still figuring it out. But for what it’s worth, having you there today? It meant something. Even if you were secretly hoping I’d lose.”

You hesitated, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I wasn’t hoping you’d lose,” you admitted quietly. “I just... didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it melted into a warm smile. “See? You do care.”

“Don’t push it, Bearman,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

Ollie grinned, falling back into step beside you. “Alright, I won’t. For now.”

As the two of you walked toward the castle, the tension of the match faded into the background, replaced by something softer, something that felt almost... natural. And though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, you were starting to think that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind having Ollie Bearman by your side.

Epilogue:

The days when you and Ollie were sworn rivals felt like a lifetime ago, though the memory of your endless bickering still brought a smirk to your face.

Somehow, against all odds, you’d gone from exchanging biting remarks in the hallways to sharing late-night conversations by the fire.

It wasn’t a change you’d ever expected—or even wanted—but it was one you couldn’t imagine undoing.

Your dynamic hadn’t exactly mellowed.

You were still Y/N Browning, Slytherin’s top student, sharp-tongued and fiercely independent. And Ollie was still Ollie Bearman, Gryffindor’s golden boy with that infuriatingly confident grin.

The difference now was that the teasing carried a warmth it never had before, and the rivalry had softened into something that only strengthened your bond.

Take today, for example.

The castle was buzzing with activity as students bustled through the corridors, preparing for their final exams.

You were perched at a table in the library, surrounded by stacks of books and meticulously written notes.

The air smelled faintly of parchment and ink, a comforting sort of chaos that you thrived in.

“Still studying?” Ollie’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone laced with mock exasperation.

You glanced up to see him leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his Gryffindor scarf askew and his hair as messy as ever.

“What does it look like, Bearman?” you quipped, returning your attention to your notes. “Not all of us can wing it and still pass.”

“Hey, I don’t wing it,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you. “I’m just naturally brilliant.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re naturally lucky, which is not the same thing.”

“And you’re naturally stubborn,” he countered, reaching across the table to pluck one of your notes from the pile. “Come on, Y/N. Take a break. You’ve been at this for hours.”

“I can’t afford to take a break,” you said firmly, snatching the note back. “Unlike you, I have standards to maintain.”

Ollie chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I know. That’s one of the things I like about you. But you’re allowed to breathe, you know. Even Slytherin’s top student can take fifteen minutes to eat a chocolate frog.”

You sighed, finally setting your quill down and meeting his gaze.

His hazel eyes were steady, the teasing light in them replaced with something softer. You hated how easily he could do that—disarm you with a look.

“Fine,” you relented. “Fifteen minutes. But if my grades suffer, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take the risk,” he said with a grin, pulling a small package from his bag and sliding it across the table. It was a chocolate frog, just as he’d promised.

You took it reluctantly, your lips twitching upward despite yourself. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you open the wrapper.

Moments like these had become your new normal. He knew when to push and when to step back, and you were learning to let your guard down—at least for him.

You were still fiercely independent, still determined to prove yourself to the world. But with Ollie, you didn’t feel the need to constantly defend your place.

He saw you, respected you, and never tried to change you.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still moments when you snapped at him or bristled at his easygoing nature, and there were times when his relentless optimism made you want to scream. But somehow, those differences only made your connection stronger.

He challenged you in a way no one else could, and you liked to think you kept him grounded.

Your friends had grown used to the sight of you two together, though the teasing hadn’t stopped.

Isla called him your “Gryffindor puppy,” and Arvid had taken to mimicking Ollie’s voice whenever you defended him.

Even Kimi, with his usual deadpan humor, had joked about how the universe might implode from the sheer improbability of your relationship.

But you didn’t mind. Because at the end of the day, when the library emptied and the castle grew quiet, it was Ollie who walked you back to the Slytherin common room.

It was Ollie who stayed up with you during late-night study sessions, bringing snacks and pretending to care about your advanced Arithmancy notes.

It was Ollie who, somehow, had become the one person you didn’t mind letting in. And as you sat across from him now, watching him steal one of your notes and grin when you scolded him, you realized something important.

You hadn’t changed for Ollie Bearman. You were still yourself—strong, driven, and fiercely Slytherin.

But you had softened for him, in a way that felt like growing rather than shrinking. And for once, you didn’t mind letting someone see the cracks in your armor.

“Alright, Bearman,” you said, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “You win. I’ll take a break.”

Ollie’s grin widened. “Finally. I thought I’d have to resort to drastic measures.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, though your voice was lighter now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his gaze warm.

And just like that, the world felt a little brighter.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Reunion | Aaron Pierre

Pairings: Aaron Pierre x Black Reader

Warnings: none

Series summary: Aaron and YN’s friendship has stood the test of time, but when the chance for something more comes, will they risk everything for a love that feels impossible—or keep circling around the truth of their hearts?

Chapter summary: A night of nostalgia and reconnection at a high school reunion stirs old emotions, leaving two friends questioning the boundaries of their relationship and the possibilities they’ve always left unspoken.

Word Count: 2.5K

a/n: i wanted to try my hand something really cliche and fluffy like a friends to lovers trope - this will be a slow burn (my own fault lol) - writing a series has never been my strong suit so you'll have to bear with me

The smell of something warm and savoury hit YN the moment she stepped through the door of Marcus and Aisha’s townhouse. She could hear the faint murmur of voices and the clink of glasses before the hosts themselves emerged from the kitchen, their faces lighting up in unison.

“Finally! The last piece of the puzzle,” Marcus declared, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture.

“YN, you look gorgeous, as always,” Aisha chimed in, giving her a quick but warm hug. “Come in, food’s almost ready, and we’re all starving.”

“Let me guess,” YN teased as she slipped off her coat. “Nobody wanted to wait for me, but Marcus said it’d be rude to start without the whole group.”

“She gets me,” Marcus said with a wink, ushering her into the dining area. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, every familiar face instantly making her feel at ease. There was Michelle, always animated, waving her wine glass like a conductor’s baton as she told some wild story. Isaiah, who leaned back in his chair with that quiet grin, nodding along. And Aaron, seated at the end of the table, his presence as steady as ever, offering her a small, knowing smile when their eyes met.

She settled into the open seat beside Aaron, her heart giving the faintest flutter. It wasn’t the kind of flutter that screamed attraction—not outwardly, anyway. It was more like the warm ache of familiarity; the gravitational pull she’d always felt toward him.

“Glad you made it,” Aaron said, his tone easy, like they hadn’t seen each other in a while even though it had only been a week.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, her voice light.

The evening unfolded effortlessly. Plates of food were passed around, stories from their university days resurfaced, and the wine flowed as freely as the laughter. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Marcus raised his glass dramatically.

“Alright, team,” he began. “Before we subject ourselves to the chaos of tonight’s reunion, I propose a toast. To surviving high school, thriving in adulthood—”

“… and for surviving the reunion without resorting to violence,” Michelle cut in, raising her glass higher.

“Exactly,” Marcus said with a grin. “Cheers!”

Glasses clinked, and someone muttered, “We’re gonna need more drinks if we run into Kevin Thompson. That man never learned how to shut up.”

“Amen to that,” Aisha added, and the group erupted into laughter.

By the time the limo arrived, everyone was buzzing—part excitement, part nervous energy. YN had just texted Trey to let him know where to meet them, and now she found herself fussing with the hem of her dress in the mirror by the door.

“You’re good,” Aaron said as he passed by, his tone so casual it almost sounded indifferent. But she caught the faintest softening in his expression, like he’d been paying closer attention than he let on.

“Thanks,” she replied, her smile shy. She adjusted her earrings and turned back to the group, who were gathering coats and handbags in a flurry of last-minute preparations.

“YN, you need to teach Trey our trick for changing the subject when Kevin inevitably tries to corner us,” Isaiah teased as they stepped into the limo, his tone light and teasing.

Aaron, seated across from her in the limo, greeted Trey with a handshake and a brief but polite smile. There was no tension, no lingering looks that might give anything away. Aaron played his part with impeccable grace, though YN knew him well enough to notice the way he carried himself—a quiet, measured restraint that only someone who knew him intimately would pick up on.

The reunion venue was alive with energy, laughter echoing through the halls as old friends reconnected. The music thrummed softly in the background of the high school reunion; a curated playlist of throwbacks meant to stir nostalgia. YN adjusted the strap of her dress and smoothed down the fabric for what felt like the fiftieth time since walking through the doors. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she made her way into the main hall, her date trailing slightly behind her, holding two glasses of champagne. But it wasn’t long before someone approached their group, drink in hand, eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Wow, YN,” they said, their tone light but laced with something else. “I always thought you and Aaron would’ve ended up together by now. Guess a lot’s changed, huh?”

The comment hit like a stone skipping across water, rippling through the group. YN’s smile faltered for just a second, but it was long enough for Aaron to notice. He said nothing, his face a mask of calm as he took a sip of his drink. Trey’s hand rested lightly on her back, a gesture meant to steady her, though she wasn’t sure if he even caught the shift in atmosphere.

“Life’s full of surprises,” Aaron said smoothly, breaking the silence. His voice was even, his smile cordial, and yet there was a weight to his words that lingered even after the moment passed.

As the group moved on, the comment left a faint but undeniable tension in its wake. YN couldn’t shake the unease that settled in her chest, and Aaron noticed the slight change in her posture, the way her laugh felt a little more forced. He stayed quiet at first, letting the others fill the space. He’d always been good at observing, at reading the room. But he said nothing, keeping his thoughts locked away, as he always had.

The night seemed to stretch in an oddly suspended way, time moving both too fast and too slow as the reunion came to a close. Laughter still lingered in the air, the sound of glasses clinking faintly from other groups still enjoying their night. YN stood with her friends just outside the venue, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Her fingers tugged at the straps of her clutch absentmindedly, her mind flitting between Trey’s steady presence beside her and the earlier comment that seemed to have shifted something imperceptible in the air.

One by one, the group made their way to the limo parked at the curb, the energy mellowing into a comfortable buzz. Aaron leaned against the vehicle, his frame effortlessly commanding as he exchanged a few light-hearted remarks with Marcus and Aisha. YN caught herself glancing his way—his smile, the casual ease in his posture. He looked entirely at peace, and yet, something about him tonight had her questioning if that was entirely true.

As they piled into the limo, conversation resumed, though quieter now. Marcus cracked a joke about one of their old classmates that earned a ripple of laughter, but the words barely registered for YN. Trey sat beside her, his arm draped loosely across the back of the seat, while Aaron settled in across from them. The confined space, while luxurious, felt heavy. Every glance, every movement seemed magnified.

YN found herself hyper-aware of Aaron’s presence—of the way his gaze flicked out the window, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. If he noticed the way Trey’s thumb brushed against her shoulder, he didn’t show it. Instead, he remained composed, even offering Trey a polite, “Good meeting you tonight.” Trey nodded in return, the exchange brief but cordial. It was Aaron’s restraint that struck her most—not a flicker of jealousy, not a hint of bitterness. Just that quiet, unreadable strength he carried so well.

The ride stretched on as the limo began its route of dropping everyone home. First was Marcus, who exited with a lingering grin and a playful, “Don’t forget, we survived high school, but some of these people definitely peaked.” Aisha rolled her eyes but laughed as she climbed out next, pausing to hug YN tightly. As she leaned in, her voice dropped to a whisper only YN could hear.

“Call me in the morning, okay? We’ll talk.”

YN tightened her hold just slightly in response, the gesture subtle but enough to convey her agreement. When Aisha finally pulled away, she offered YN a small, knowing smile before disappearing into the night.

Now, it was just the three of them—Aaron, YN, and Trey. The tension in the car shifted again, more noticeable in the absence of their friends. Trey filled the silence with a comment about the night’s playlist, oblivious to the glances YN kept stealing toward Aaron. When they finally reached Trey’s stop, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and promised to text her when he got home.

The moment he left the car though, it felt as though the very air changed. YN and Aaron sat in silence as the limo pulled away, the city lights painting fleeting patterns across their faces. She could feel his eyes on her, though she couldn’t bring herself to look his way. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts too loud in the quiet.

“You okay?” His voice broke through, low and steady.

“Yeah.” She forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just tired.”

Aaron nodded, his expression unreadable. “It was a good night.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The limo finally came to a stop outside her flat. Aaron moved to open the door for her, his movements deliberate and smooth. She stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Turning back, she met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them in the quiet.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, YN.” His voice was softer now, almost tender.

She walked to her door, feeling his eyes on her until she stepped inside. As the door clicked shut behind her, she leaned against it, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Her flat felt too quiet, too still compared to the night’s events. Kicking off her heels, she made her way to the bathroom, mechanically removing her makeup and letting the cool water centre her.

Yet, as she climbed into bed, her mind refused to settle. The reunion, the comment, the limo ride—it all played on a loop. And Aaron. Always Aaron.

Across town, Aaron sat in the back of the limo, his thoughts similarly restless. His elbow rested against the door; his fingers pressed to his temple as he replayed the night. The smile on YN’s face, the warmth in her laugh—he wanted her to have that happiness, even if it wasn’t with him. But the ache in his chest told him what he’d been trying to ignore for years.

Some truths, no matter how deeply buried, had a way of surfacing. And tonight felt like the beginning of something neither of them could quite name yet.

The morning after the reunion was slow to rise, the early rays of sun filtering through YN’s curtains, casting gentle streaks of light across her bed. She lay still, her duvet tangled around her legs, as fragmented memories of last night played out in her mind like an unfinished film. The laughter, the faces she hadn’t seen in years, the subtle tension that had wrapped itself around her chest like a second skin.

And then, Aaron.

Her eyes fluttered shut again as her thoughts drifted back to the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his laugh. The way he’d greeted Trey with that effortless grace, as though it didn’t cost him a single thing to see her on another man’s arm. But it wasn’t just that moment—it was the echo of words she hadn’t even spoken aloud, the unshakeable ache of wanting something that felt impossible. Her chest stirred with a confusing mix of nerves, regret, longing, and compassion, each emotion vying for space in the quiet of her bedroom.

She sighed, her arm draping across her face as if she could block it all out. This was why she hated reunions. Too much digging up the past, too much pretending things were simpler than they were. Just as she turned over, trying to will herself back into the sanctuary of sleep, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The name flashing on the screen was a welcome distraction.

Aisha.

“Hey,” YN answered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“You sound like death,” Aisha teased, the warmth in her tone softening the jab. “Late night?”

“You were there, you know it was,” YN replied, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

“True, but I wasn’t the one with a date,” Aisha countered lightly, her words skimming just close enough to the edge of teasing to make YN’s stomach twist.

“Trey’s not... it’s not serious,” YN said quickly, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. Her voice was quiet, but even she could hear the uncertainty laced in it.

“Hmm,” was all Aisha said in response, a non-committal hum that spoke volumes. “So... you’ve been thinking about last night, haven’t you?”

YN’s silence was answer enough. She stared at the wall, her mind already wandering back to the moment in the ballroom when someone’s offhand comment had shattered the fragile bubble of normalcy she’d tried to build.

“We always thought you and Aaron would’ve been together by now.”

The words had lingered like smoke, choking the air out of the room. YN hadn’t even looked at Aaron then; she couldn’t. Her heart had clenched too tightly at the thought of what could’ve been, what should’ve been—but wasn’t. Aisha’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Aisha asked, her tone softer now, almost tentative.

“No,” YN lied, too quickly, and the weak conviction in her voice betrayed her.

“YN,” Aisha pressed gently, “we’re all rooting for you two, you know that, right? We stopped pushing the agenda a long time ago, hoping you’d find each other in your own time. But... we don’t want it to be too late. We don’t want to see you both settle for less when you could have each other.”

YN swallowed hard, her throat tight with unspoken emotion. “On paper we work, but we’re people, not paper,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. The words felt heavier than she expected, like they carried the weight of years of doubt, fear, and unacknowledged longing.

Aisha was silent for a moment, letting YN’s words settle. “You really believe that?”

YN didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mind was already drifting again, back to the countless moments over the years that had tethered her and Aaron together. The stolen glances, the inside jokes, the quiet understanding that didn’t need words. The way he could read her moods with a single look, how he’d always known what to say—or what not to say—when she needed it most.

Practically soulmates, she thought bitterly. Always orbiting, never colliding.

“You’re not answering me,” Aisha said, her voice pulling YN back to the present again. “You know, for someone who’s so good with words, you get awfully quiet when it comes to Aaron.”

“I’m just tired,” YN said, though even she didn’t believe it.

“Mhm,” Aisha replied, clearly unconvinced. “Well, get some rest. But we’re talking about this. Properly. Tomorrow.”

There was a pause before Aisha added, “And YN? Just... think about it. Really think about it. What’s scarier: risking the friendship or never knowing what it could’ve been?”

YN tightened her grip on the phone, her heart hammering in her chest. “Goodbye, Aisha.”

“Okay, babe,” Aisha said softly, and the call ended with a quiet click.

YN sat in the silence that followed, Aisha’s words echoing in her mind like a haunting melody. What’s scarier: risking the friendship or never knowing what it could’ve been?

She exhaled shakily, leaning back against the headboard and letting her head fall back. The weight of the question settled over her, heavy and unrelenting. Because deep down, she already knew the answer. She was just too afraid to admit it.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 2

Today’s board is:

Oh shit Pops fuggin dead-

(From TV episode 1C And the Kitchen Sink)

[st9rnb]

ֹ ₊ @st9rnb presents..

stargirl / c.sturniolo

a/n : pyramids by frank ocean was playing while i wrote this fyi. anyways im gonna start adding warnings before my stories, also this kinda sucks as a comeback post so im so sorry

tw. male masturbation, smut, swearing, that might be it idk

chris has spent the whole night shoving down the obvious boner tenting his pants while watching you dance on the floor with your friends, music playing, lights flashing, the smell of alcohol, everything was honestly overwhelming, but all he was paying attention to was your hips swaying side to side.

chris slowly walked up to the bar, leaning against it. “pepsi” he calls out to the bartender, looking back out at the party he lets out a sigh, running his hands through his hair, extremely sexually frustrated

throughout the rest of the night he keeps quiet, not talking to many people, watching you from a distance until he finally ends up escaping the party to call and uber home.

he quickly tries to unlock his house door but keeps using the wrong keys, he finally finds the right one, shoving the door open and shutting it with a slam. he leans against the door letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

walking over to his room he shuts the door, laying down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, images of you dancing at the party start to flood his mind.

his hand sneaks down to crotch, pushing down the erection, he lets out a quiet whimper, lips parted, cheeks flushed rose pink.

he raises his hips, pulling down his white cargo pants, leaving him in black boxers, the tent so much more visible now, he looks down at the damp patch of precum that lay on his boxers.

he slowly raises his hips again, pulling down the boxers, his dick springing free, chris licks his lips, looking back up at the ceiling, his breathing getting heavier.

he wraps his hand around the shaft, his thumb rubbing the slit, a breathily moan falling past his lips as he spreads the precum around, using it as a lube.

he moves his fist down to the base, sliding it back to the top, his eyes fluttering shut as a moan rips from his throat.

“f-fuck..i-“ he whispers, fist moving faster as he starts panting, throwing his head back as he fists his length, his thumb rubbing the slit, chris bucking his hips into his hand.

“fuck-fuck..im- fuck” he says, a string of curses falling out of his mouth. images of you covering his mind as he gets closer and closer.

he pants as the band in his stomach suddenly snapping as he lets out a loud moan, a string if white liquid landing on his abdomen and chest, chest heaving as he lays his head back, eyes shut.

you, being still the only thing on his mind.

tags

@matttsangel @submattenthusiast @goingtojohnkramershouseee @emely9274 @cayleeuhithinknott @brookheartsmatt @slut4chris888 @dominicfikeenthusiast @dexterswifey

[darlingkaveh]

can i make a request?

aventurine with insistent reader who straight up doesn't understand his attempts to push them away. who just straight up doesn't care. ride or die type of thing.

of course! my first request ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ ty anon ! and for u others out there, feel free to ask, too. check out my request info on my pinned

anyway, since you didn’t specify what gender the reader is, anon, i’ll just do gn and give ‘em an interesting personality, ‘cause i think aventurine deserves that kinda love. hope u don’t mind!

synopsis: aventurine has been avoiding you, as of late - and you’re set on trying to find out why. (ig this is angst? hurt/comfort, maybe…it’s not flat out depressing or anything, it’s just kind of sad when you think about it lol). pairing: aventurine x gn!reader tw: alcohol consumption, intoxication (nothing happens)

𝘾𝘼𝙇𝘾𝙐𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙆𝙎

Aventurine was an interesting man. Truthfully, he puzzled you. You had met him through Ratio, who some might call an enigma - but to you, the doctor was light years easier to understand. He was calculated. The numbers behind his every move spoke to you.

The gambler, on the other hand, was a cacophony. A jumble of pitches that melted together into a song few could comprehend. And to you, that was a delight. A challenge. One much needed, to soothe your restless mind.

Perhaps that was why he seemed to dislike you.

Aventurine was not fond of that look in your eyes - the one that said you understood him. Or, at the very least, were beginning to. He was meant to be the one reading others, not the other way around. Simply put, it was unnerving how you took note of his every move, and seemed to use it against him.

It wasn’t as though he hated you. No, that was…that was far too strong a word. He was disinterested in being your friend. Yes, that was better. You were a nice enough person. You were sharp, kind, charming…all things that made you dangerous.

You had been friends, at first. But he had underestimated you - and had let you close. Too close.

“Haha! A straight flush.”

His opponent - a wiry man, with a weaselly face - crossed his arms in triumph after spreading out his hand. “Let’s see you beat that.”

Aventurine’s lips quirked.

“Yes, let’s.” He set down his own hand, revealing a royal flush. He smiled as he took his pile of chips, to the dismay of the man. His eyes tracked the weaselly man as he was dragged away by his peers, kicking and shouting. “Well, that was fun,” he chuckled, crossing his legs. He draped an arm over the edge of his seat, his head lolling back. “Anyone else care to challenge me?”

“I would.”

Something cold shot up his spine as your voice touched his ears, a tad too close for comfort, and he sat up, suddenly on edge. His lips rose in their usual fashion, though his smile was tight as he watched you take a seat across from him.

“…Ah,” he mused, “Ratio’s acquaintance. A pleasure to see you.”

“Isn’t it?” You kept your eyes on his hands as he began to shuffle the cards. “Its been a while, Aventurine, yet I see you haven’t changed in the slightest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, my friend.” He watched as you slid forward a large stack of chips - your starting bet. Anyone else who dared to place that much money into the pot, in front of his face, he would’ve called foolish.

He waved over an acquaintance, to act as the dealer. “Let us begin, then.”

“Let us.”

The cards were passed out. He glanced at his hand. It was good. Not that he had expected anything less, but it suddenly felt like a lifeline.

“Call.” He slid forward a stack of chips that matched yours. It was fine. He could afford to lose this much.

“Raise.” Your expression was unchanging as you offered more chips. He could feel his jaw twitch.

“Fold,” he gritted out.

“Not going overboard tonight?” You arched a brow. “How frugal.”

He forced himself to laugh. “Lady Luck might smile upon me, but I would rather not exhaust her goodwill.”

“A smart choice.”

He played through a few turns with you, narrowly winning. His hands trembled slightly as he reached out, taking his share.

“Well,” he mumbled, “good game.”

“Quite.” Your eyes glinted under the warm lighting of the bar. “Again?”

“Ah…” he chuckled nervously, “I think not. I’m a bit tired, you see.”

“Of course.” A hint of a smile touched your lips. “A drink, then?”

He couldn’t exactly refuse.

“Why not?”

He nodded at the bartender as he was given a glass of whiskey. The golden liquid slid down his throat easily, burning as it went down. It untangled his nerves, and loosened his tongue.

“So.” You leaned forward. “How’ve you been, Aventurine?”

His eyes met yours. “As well as I can be, I suppose.”

“Busy?”

“No.” He downed another glass.

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me?”

He paused.

“Avoiding you?” He glanced off to the side, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t you?”

His tongue ran over his lips. “I suppose I do.”

“So?”

“Mm…” his leg started to bounce. “You make me nervous.”

Your expression contorted, before you laughed. “Me? Why?”

“You’re too smart.” The bartender offered him another glass, but this time, he refused. His vision was already blurring. “I don’t like it.”

“Ratio’s smart, too. You don’t avoid him.”

“You’re…” his lips pursed. “Different.”

“Hah.” You tilted your head at him. “And there’s nothing I can do to help you relax?”

Aventurine huffed. “No. Nothing.”

A thoughtful expression took over your face. “We’ll see.” Still, you rose. “Alright, then, I suppose we should go, no? You seem like you’d want to.”

“Yep.” He stood up, stumbling a little - not expecting his body to feel like lead. You grabbed his arm, helping him up. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He leaned on you as you walked him home, head spinning. When was the last time he had gotten so intoxicated? The amount of glasses he had drank had blurred together, honestly.

He couldn’t believe he was in this situation now. Relying on you, of all people. The one he trusted the least. This was dangerous. This was bad. In this state, he was powerless to stop you from whatever you wanted to do. You could -

“Hey, relax, you’re okay.” Your hand brushed past his head in a gentle manner, startling him. “You’re in your room.”

He blinked dazedly, eyes adjusting to the darkness in the room. Oh. He was home. In his bed. He was…okay.

God, was he tired.

You rubbed his shoulder, humming a soft melody.

Before he knew it, he was lulled to sleep.

fin. not my best work, but i was eager to get this out there. aventurine’s an interesting fella, though i ain’t the best at writing him :’) if there’s anything i misinterpreted, anon, feel free to let me know! lmk what y’all thought.

requests are open.

[alwaysobsessed777]

PANCAKES FOR DINNER - N.M.

So I'm not sure how many words are in this....but there's not warnings, this is just kinda cute???Anyways....enjoyyyyyy

The car ride was tense. I hadn't planned on leaving so soon but work changed what it had wanted me to do. Nika's grip on the steering wheel bleached her knuckles, her jaw stayed tense. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I randomly sprang this info on her the last second. Our summer plans before she went back to UConn for summer training and I went back to working out my musical career were ruined.

"I'm really sorry about this...Nika, I'll make it up to you," her jaw seemed to relax, her hands loosened it's grip.

"No need to apologize, I'm just....I just wanted to spend this next month with you," I almost wanted to spill every feeling, every thought I had about this woman right now after hearing those words. But we were just friends, nothing more.

"sometimes I wish I had a normal dream, like, being a doctor or...or whatever other people want their jobs to be."

A smile spread across the girl's face, a silent celebration went off in my head. "Being the next big pop star is no easy thing. You're dreams were just stronger than others, that's why you're making it a reality."

"Becoming a professional basketball player isn't that easy either."

She snickered. "I'm far from professional, but I'll take it."

"College.... professional....same thing," I paused, "you'll definitely go pro though. You're literally amazing at what you do."

A silence stretched between us, a quiet awkwardness. "I don't know if I will."

"Nika, please, if they don't have you going to like the Aces or the Storm.... they've lost one of the best players to ever walk this Earth."

As heat rose to her cheeks, a small smirk formed on my lips, "Stop, that's the biggest lie you've ever told....and you've told a lot."

"I never lie," that was lie in itself. It's not like I've been lying to her for three years now on how I only wanna be friends.

"Puh-leahs, all you do is lie. Like, when I first met you, you thought you could fool me by saying your straight...did you think I was that stupid," I rolled my eyes, "but it is very kind of you to speak so highly of me." Her dramatic hand-to-the-heart, the batting of her eyelashes, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

The light banter almost making me forget the fact I was getting ready to get on a plane....key word, almost. My palms began to sweat, I could feel my mind start to spiral, I hated planes....and I was getting ready to get in one.

"Hey," The girl beside me slides her hand to my thigh, resting it there for some comfort. "You alright?"

"Aerophobia."

"What?"

"Fear of flying in planes," I quickly faced her, her face softened.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" Her hand intertwined with mine. The warmth of her hands fighting with the chill of mine, it brought me back from my spiral. Only a little.

I nod, "look at me." Her hands encompassing my face, her thumbs rubbed gently across my cheekbones. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll even wait here with you til you have to get on, alright?"

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. A hug from her seemed to make the rest of the world cease to exist. All I needed was her, her warmth, and the comfort she provided.

But, I couldn't have just that. I had to get on some stupid plane to achieve some stupid dream.

"Alright, we're gonna go inside and just chill til you get on the plane, okay?" I nod, "I better get a call when you land in Cali."

I chuckle, "you will. No doubts about it."

We walked in, hands together, and I couldn't help but let the nerves get to me again. "I wish you could come with me."

Nika's smile seemed to brighten the world around us, "if I could, I would. Sadly, I gotta stay here in ole Croatia and hang with the family."

"I'm gonna miss you," then my thoughts spiraled. The possibility of a crash, even though it was like 1 in 100,000 that I could get in a fatal one. The thought of never seeing Nika again. I wouldn't have been able to tell her how I feel....so I did it. "Nika, I just gotta let you know I have so many feelings for you. Not just the friendly ones, like, the more than friends ones. I wish I was with you, like, I like you so much. I just feel like I make things up in my head that you might like me too, then I go down this rabbit hole of you never actually liking me, not even as a friend. Anyways, I feel like when I'm around you I can't help but feel like the entire world couldn't provide me with as much happiness and you do. I....I...God I think I love you, Nika."

Her eyes widened, surprise mixed with whatever feelings she had towards me, it was written all over her face. I should've just jumped on the plane and hoped it crashed cause I felt more embarrassed now than ever before. At least I'd be at peace with being on the plane if it meant never knowing what Nika really wanted to say.

"How long have you thought that?"

Not the questions, "for...for about three years."

She nodded, stepping closer to me, "You really think I would ever not like you?

""Platonic or romantic?"

"Either."

"Both....I just thought I liked you so much I was making things up in m-"

She cut me off. Her lips crashed to mine. The way her hands pulled me impossibly closer by the waist. My hands shot to her hair, wanting to bring her even closer to me. I had always wanted this.

"God, I've wanted to do that for years," her whispered words left me shocked. I pulled back a bit.

"What?"

"Y/N, you have no clue how bad I've been wanting to do that. Ever since I've gotten to know you...it's like you draw me even closer...wanting more....needing more. I just thought maybe I was reading into things. You're confident and charming, why wouldn't I think you were like that with everyone. But to know you feel the same way....I wish I would've made the move a long time ago."

I couldn't help but smile. Her words causing a heat to rise through my neck, settling on my cheeks. "You're joking."

"Nope," popping the 'p', "I couldn't have been more serious in my life."

My flight was being called, and I couldn't help but notice the nerves had been settled...or I was just currently distracted by the fact Nika had feelings for me.

"So....I gotta go," before I could keep going, Nika planted another soft kiss on my lips, "but maybe I should tell my manager nevermind."

Her laughed filled the space, "Nope, gotta become the biggest pop star in the world. I need you to surpass Taylor Swift one day."

"Whatever," I turned to leave, but took one more glance back at the brunette, "I'll call you when I get off, promise."

A/N: I got one done after months of not being on here!!! Hopefully this is good...enough cause I don't know how I feel about it. @ittiwdwysylm here ya go, Nika fic out!!

[scoobywrites690]

Was going to reread your fics and saw that you are looking for an idea… the airline freaking lost my luggage and it’s day 5 with no news and it sucks ass.

ANYWAYS what if reader also lost her luggage while she’s visiting johnny (pre relationship or maybe they’re just “friends”) and he goes feral seeing her in his clothes?

I’m so sorry that they lost your luggage and that they still can’t find it. Hopefully you get it back, I’m routing for you and your luggage 🤞🏻💕

Anyway though, this request is scrumptious. I love it. In my eyes Johnny’s a bit feral when it comes to anything to do with his partner/crush but you in his clothes 😫 you’re gonna kill the man.

(Btw I don’t really know how the airline deal with lost luggage so I’m not sure how they tell you I’m just making it up as I go)

Johnny seeing you in his clothes🤭

With the airline losing your luggage as well as multiple other people’s, your annual stay at Johnnys is almost a disaster. But it’s salvaged by the few clothes in your carryon and some of Johnnys old clothes that are a bit snug on him now.

Even though Johnny said it was fine for you to wear as many as you need, you still didn’t want to ransack his drawers. Trying to hold off as long as possible but, it came to the point where you couldn’t keep spraying your clothes down with perfume to mask that they’ve been worn more than once.

So, you gathered up the few worn pieces you had, threw them in the washer and wandered into Johnny’s room to find something to wear. Wandering around in just your underwear was fine at the moment as Johnny had gone to grab some snacks as you were planning to have some sort of movie night together.

Digging through his drawers has you pulling out a T-shirt that you pull over your head, the fabric stopping just at the tops of your thighs. Continuing your search for something for your bottom half.

“Fuck me, lass” is all you heard from the doorway of Johnny's bedroom. And there stands Johnny frozen still in the doorway, with his eyes wide looking like they’re about to pop out his head. As you stand in his room with nothing but an oversized T-shirt on and your lace panties slightly peaking out from the bottom.

"What are ya tryna kill me?" Johnny questions as you scramble around trying to cover yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Johnny" You stamper out "I didn't think you'd be back yet" You explain.

"It's alright, don't apologise. Just cover yourself up I'm beggin ya" Johnny says his voiced sounding strained as adverts his eyes. an obvious tent forming in his trousers.

"You okay Johnny?" You ask a teasing tone to your voice, deciding then and there that you'd test the waters a bit.

"I'm fine" he says almost sounding strained as he continues to look anywhere but at you. refusing to meet your gaze

"Johnny" You say taking a step towards him "I think you've got a problem" You say trying to hold in your laugh as you point to the raging hard on.

"Fuck, yes I know" Johnny's says, his face twisting up into one that could be described as pain "And you're not helping right now lass. Standing there in nothing but my shirt and those sexy little panties, fuck me it's like you're tryna kill me" Johnny says frustration lacing his voice.

You're not sure how it happened. It was all very much a blur but next thing you know you're on the bed, legs spread out wide showing off your pretty little cunt to johnny. He doesn't waste any time before he's diving in for a taste of the things he's been craving.

His tongue instantly glides in between your folds lapping at your sweet sweet juices. his mouth latching onto your clit has your hips jerking up at the sudden sensation. Strong burly arms wrapping around the tops of your thighs soon have that problem sorted, locking you in place so you can't wiggle away from him.

His chin most definitely dripping in a layer of your slick, but that doesn't stop him. he continues his assault. his fingers are able to slide into you so easily. pumping your poor little pussy until your squeezing around his fingers as your orgasm comes crashing down.

But he doesn't let you recover, not even wasting a second before he's pushing your legs back. knees pressed to your chest as he's sliding his tip past the entrance of your weeping hole. a sharp hiss leaving his mouth at the sudden warmth and tightness that engulfs his aching cock.

Hands coming down on either side of your head as he pushes himself down on top of you, folding you in half has him bottoming out inside of you.

"Fuck me, lass" Johnny says through gritted teeth as he pulls his hips back before snapping them back into you, his cock ramming deep inside your pussy.

"If I had known you'd have looked so good in my clothes. I would have had you in them ages ago" Johnny tells you as he lets his head nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His teeth graze at your skin before they're biting down onto the tender flesh that connects your shoulder to your neck.

You can't help but let the lewdest sounding moan escape past your lips. Your pussy clenching in reaction to the sharp pain of the bite.

"Don't do that, darlin" Johnny mutters coming up to meet your gaze "or i'll finish faster than I want to"

"Please Johnny" You whine out "I need it, please"

and that's all it took for Johnny to pick up the pace. His cock rammed in and out at a brutal pace. his tip hitting your cervix with every thrust. the sound of his hips connecting with the back of your thighs fills the room as Johnny bottoms out over and over again. Your pussy clenched so tightly around him that every vein can be felt rubbing against your walls sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"i'll have you" - "In nothing but panties - "and my shirts" - "All the time" He says between thrust "And I'll fill" - "This pretty pussy" - "Full of my cum" - "Every time" He says as he thrust into you hard a few more times before hes spilling his seed inside you.

(I gave it a quick scan but i haven't properly proof read so i apologise for any mistakes)(not sure if he’s feral enough throughout this so I might have to redeem myself in the future)

[imagrindylow]

Talk to Me

Leander Prewett / f!MC

7.8k Words Content Warnings: Just fluff! Pining, crushes, general cuteness. Summary: Sixth year has begun, and Leander is nervous to start talking to MC again after their summer apart. Tired of listening to his pining, Garreth comes up with a way to get Leander and MC talking. A/N: MC's house isn't specified, but for plot, she's written to not be in Gryffindor.

~~~~~

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, mate,” Garreth said, relaxing back against his headboard, a potions book and a mess of scribbled notes spread on his bed beside him that had been forgotten in the wake of conversation.

He and Leander had their dorm to themselves for the moment, and as typical, Leander was taking this time to vent about his lady woes – or rather – his lack-of-lady woes. 

Leander paced the space between their beds, shaking his head at his friend. Of course for someone like Garreth – someone confident and effortlessly funny and charming – getting a girl's attention was not a difficult task. Hell, Leander would settle for being able to talk to girls without putting his foot in his mouth. Not even girls, just… one specific girl. 

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Leander groaned, a rhetorical question that he stopped his pacing to answer with his standard self deprecating flair. “Oh, hello, I know I can barely speak to you without tripping over my words and making a fool of myself, but we should totally go out anyway,” he scoffed. “That’ll go over well.” 

Garreth sighed, feeling sympathetic to his friend’s situation. At the same time, however, sixth year had barely begun and the pining was already getting more than a little bit old. He had half a mind to march up to MC and tell her himself that Leander had been hemming and hawing about asking her out since fifth year, but Garreth valued his life and didn’t want to risk Leander hexing him into oblivion if he were to unintentionally make things worse. 

“You’re acting like she’s a stranger to you but she’s not. Sure, you haven’t talked since before summer, but all you have to do is break the ice with her again for the year. It’s not like you have to come right out and profess your undying love for her, just ask her to Hogsmeade or something,” Garreth said, picking up his book and casually riffling the pages. 

It was advice he’d given Leander before, that he had yet to take for whatever reason. Even if it didn’t lead to anything more, surely MC wouldn’t turn him down for a trip into the village. But Leander was as hard headed as he was insecure and nervous, and no amount of assurance from Garreth that he was actually a good catch would convince him.

“There’s better people for her to go to Hogsmeade with. She’s friends with everyone, I’d probably have to take a number and wait,” he said.

“I could talk to her for you,” Garreth said, not trying to sound too pushy, as he’d offered to do this before. 

Leander drew in a breath, eyes widening at Garreth as though the idea was insane. “Ohh no, absolutely not. You stay out of it. All you need to do is listen to me whine and let me wallow in my loneliness,” he said dramatically. 

Other friends of theirs may have found Leander’s theatrical refusal amusing – he was actually quite the funny bloke – but Garreth knew that in this instance it was a guise, hiding his actual hurt under his innate humor. 

Leander crossed the room and looked over himself in the mirror besides their dorm room door. He smoothed out his hair and tucked his button down into his trousers. “Anyway, I was planning on heading to the library to do some more reading for that Transfiguration assignment due next week. Want to come?”

Garreth shook his head and waved his friend off. “Nah. I’ll do it later, I work better under pressure, anyway.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t ask to copy my notes,” Leander said and shrugged. He grabbed his bag from the hook beside the door and slung it over his shoulder, then turned to leave, but there was a clatter beside his bed that made him stop and turn around. 

His small Scops Owl, Hoots, had woken up and restlessly ruffled his feathers in his cage. Leander crossed the room to the bird, and when he spoke this time his voice was much softer. “I’m sorry Hoots, I know you want to go back to the Owlery, but it’s still chucking it down outside and I know you don’t like to fly in the rain.” 

Leander waggled his finger near the owl’s face, showing him the red mark from a nip he’d given him earlier in the day, after the owl had gotten caught in the downpour while returning from delivering a letter to Leander’s parents. The owl had flown to the dorm window rather than straight back to the owlery, set on reprimanding Leander for sending him out without having checked the forecast, and Leander wasn’t going to make that mistake again. 

Leander unlatched the door of the cage, and offered the owl his arm and Hoots hopped onto his sleeve readily. “You can stretch your wings in the room until the rain stops,” he said, then looked up and addressed Garreth once again. “You’ll watch him while I’m out, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Garreth hummed. “Hoots and I will have a grand time, I’ll bounce potion ideas off him.”

Leander grinned and raised his arm, prompting Hoots to flutter his wings before flying over and landing on Garreth’s headboard. He perched near Garreth’s shoulder, as though he was actually going to look over the potions text with him.

“Right, I’m off then. See you,” Leander said and dipped out of the room, making his way towards the library at last.

Garreth read through his potions book for a good 40 minutes, jotting down notes here and there, and muttering under his breath comments on the potioneer author's ideas. Hoots chirped and chittered intermittently, prompting the boy to discuss further, until he was having a full conversation with the owl.

Before long, though, Garreth grew restless and distracted, his mind wandering back to his earlier conversation with Leander. He’d definitely said ‘no’ to his offer of speaking to MC on his behalf, but what if Garreth could help in a more inconspicuous way? Garreth hopped up from his bed needing to stretch his legs and wandered over to Leander’s desk, nonchalantly sifting through some rolls of parchment that were lined up neatly to the side.  

“You want to help me with something, Hoots?” Garreth called to the owl, who flew over to Leander’s desk at the mention of his name. Hoots turned his head sharply, as though waiting for Garreth to elaborate. “Well, you’d be helping your dad, honestly.” 

Unsurprisingly to Garreth after conversing to the bird about potions for the better part of the last hour, Hoots squawked from his perch on the edge of Leander’s desk, a sound of agreement. And so Garreth’s mind was made up. Much like in his potions work, once an idea struck him, it had to be executed – for better or worse. This was one of his better ideas, though. He could feel it.

If he couldn’t speak to MC on Leander’s behalf, maybe he could get MC to speak to him, all of her own accord.

Garreth plucked one of the rolls of parchment from Leander’s desk – an Ancient Runes assignment that Garreth happened to know (from the amount of complaining Leander had done while working on it) was due after the weekend. 

“You want to stretch your wings a bit, yeah? Why don’t you deliver this to MC? Surely she’s in the castle somewhere.” Garreth said and offered the roll of parchment to Hoots.

The small owl took the roll of parchment in the talons of one foot and stepped onto Garreth’s waiting hand. 

“Let’s hope we don’t run into Leander on the way through the portrait,” Garreth said and headed out of the dorm, then down the stairs and through the common room. 

In his mind, running into Leander was the only thing that could go wrong. Once Hoots was out of the common room, Garreth was confident that the owl could execute the rest of his plan. The plan, of course, was that MC, after coming into possession of Leander’s assignment, would bring it back to him, and thus, talk to him. So simple. Would she be confused as to why an owl was bringing her someone else’s school work? Yes. Most definitely. But that – in Garreth’s opinion – just made the whole thing even better. She and Leander would be able to laugh about it, and laughing along with the girl you fancied was a good thing. Garreth definitely considered himself a genius for this one.

With Hoots on his arm, Garreth made his way through the portrait hole, and out into the castle. “Alright Hoots, remember, take this to MC and come right back. Avoid Leander, and I’ll be waiting out here to let you back inside. Be quick,” he instructed the owl, and with a swoop, Hoots was off on his mission, and Garreth took a seat on the floor in the hall outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

~~~

Across the castle, MC had been enjoying her Friday evening over a game of Exploding Snap in the Great Hall, where she and several of her friends had lingered for a while after dinner. Talks of weekend plans were interrupted when a small owl flew in the open doors, screeching happily as it swooped down towards the tables. She hadn’t been expecting mail, especially not at this hour when usually post was delivered during breakfast, and so MC startled when the roll of parchment was dropped right in front of her, disturbing some of her cards that laid on the table.

“What’ve you got?” one of her friends asked her as she unrolled the paper.

The confusion read on her face as she looked the parchment over. She wasn’t taking the class, but still she recognised that what she’d been delivered was someone's Ancient Runes assignment. Not just any someone, though, but Leander Prewett’s – his name was written in neat calligraphy at the top corner of the page. What in Merlin’s name?

“Nothing, it was a mistake, it isn’t for me,” she told her friend, and tucked the parchment neatly into her bag that rested beside her on the floor.

She couldn’t explain why, but she found the fact that she was now in possession of Leander’s assignment to be embarrassing. It hadn’t been graded yet, nor did it appear to be completed, which told her that the work was due at a future date, and this further meant that she’d need to return it to him, and quickly, too. The problem was, they were on the eve of the weekend, and she had no idea where Leander liked to spend his time on Friday evenings. 

She pushed the issue from her mind only long enough to finish her game of Exploding Snap before excusing herself from the group and making her way back to her dorm. Thinking on things, she decided the best way to return his assignment would be the same way she’d received it – by owl. Could she deliver it to him over breakfast in the morning? Maybe, if they ended up eating at the same time, but that idea sounded terribly awkward. What if he accused her of stealing it somehow? In front of all of his friends… It wasn't an embarrassment that she could risk. Unfortunately for Leander, though, MC didn’t have her own owl, and she was most certainly not going to walk to the owlery in rain so heavy. She would wait till morning and hope that tomorrow would bring clearer weather, but in the meantime she took a seat at her desk to write a note that she planned to send along with the return of his assignment.

~~~

Leander woke Saturday morning to bright sun peeking through the slits in his bed curtains. Whatever time it was, it was far too early, but Hoots started flittering his wings at the first sounds of Leander waking up, and that was all it took to have the boy sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was up and out of bed quickly after that, opening the window so that Hoots could fly back to the owlery before he woke the rest of the dorm with his impatience. 

By the time Leander was finished getting ready for the day, all of his dorm mates were still asleep in their beds, so he settled in at his desk, looking to utilize the early morning peace and quiet to finish up some work, so he could relax the rest of the weekend. His desk was always tidy, so it was very puzzling when Leander couldn't immediately find his Ancient Runes assignment. He knew he’d left it right there, lined up neatly with the rolls of parchment for his other classes, on the left hand side of his desk… He ran his hand through his still damp, freshly washed hair, and pushed his chair back from his desk. He hadn’t wanted to start his day with nervous pacing, but here he was. He couldn’t restart this assignment. There wasn’t enough time.

The wooden floors in the boys dorm – well, in the whole castle, really – were quite worn and creaky, and though he was trying to be quiet, his footfalls were actually rather disruptive, apparently, as one by one, the other boys in the dorm started turning over in their beds and waking up.

“It’s too early to be anxious already, Prewett, go back to sleep!” Eric Northcott called with a groan from behind his bed curtains.

“I have an Ancient Runes assignment due Monday morning and it’s gone!” Leander explained. “I dunno what to do,  I can’t restart it now, I'd been working on it all week!”

“Here’s an idea, worry about it later, when people are awake,” Eric said pointedly.

Garreth groaned. He hated knowing that what he’d done was stressing Leander out, but he couldn’t for the sake of the plan let anything slip. He had to have faith that MC would return the missing assignment before Leander had a full breakdown.

“Calm down, Eric, it’s a bloody Saturday, you can take a nap later if you’re tired. Come on lads! We ought to get up and help him look for it,” Garreth said, and swung his legs to the floor, stretched, then walked over to his own desk so he could make a show of trying to find the roll of parchment which was definitely not at any of their desks.

“Thanks, Gar,” Leander muttered, annoyed with Eric, as he crouched down and started going through the drawers on his desk.

“Of course, mate.”

Garreth’s advice, however, was apparently uninspiring, because soon the other boys were hitting the showers to start their day, leaving Garreth to help Leander on his own.

“It’ll turn up, it can’t have gone far, yeah? Was it in your bag? Maybe it fell out at the library?” Garreth offered, his stomach dropping uncomfortably as he fed his best friend false leads. It would pay off in the end, he repeated on loop in his head as he crossed the room to Eric’s desk, pawing through the other boys' scrolls.

“I didn’t work on it in the library, I only worked on it here, at my desk. So it was never in my bag.” Leander stood and stretched out his back, his hand coming anxiously to rest on the back of his neck as his eyes swept the room. He got to his knees and looked under his bed, but there was nothing. “I’m going to lose my mind. First major assignment in this class and I’m going to fail it.”

Garreth couldn’t keep commenting on it. Leander’s nerves were rubbing off on him. He’d taken a massive risk and put his faith in someone else’s honesty, and it was eating at him. At this point, they’d pretty thoroughly searched the dorm, Leander was obviously still empty handed, and Garreth was antsy. He had to get Leander out of the door – out of Gryffindor tower – so MC would have a chance to find him and return this damn parchment.

“How about we head down to breakfast?” Garreth suggested.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Yes you are, you never skip breakfast. Come on. We’re going,” he insisted. “It’ll do you good, getting your mind off of it for a bit.”

“You haven’t even showered yet, are you even ready to go?”

Garreth kicked his pajama pants off right there, nudging them with his foot over towards his bed just to get them out of the middle of the dorm room floor, then pulled on his trousers from the day before. “I’ll do it later, no point in showering yet when I’m just going to be getting dirty in a cauldron later.” 

Leander shook his head, the slightest smirk forming on his lips as Garreth pulled on a jumper and deemed himself ready to go. Leander wished he could be so carefree and unbothered.

 “Alright, you, let’s go then,” Leander said, and the pair of them started the walk down to the Great Hall.

Leander would admit, getting out of the dorm, conversing with Garreth and his other friends, and having something to eat was helping. He knew in the grand scheme of things, missing one assignment would not be the end of his world, but the fact that it wouldn’t come without consequences, when he’d done the bulk of the work, didn’t sit right with him. Still, he tried to enjoy the start of his weekend. 

Post came as Leander was finishing his morning tea, his plate of breakfast sitting empty in front of him, while he was deep in conversation about quidditch with his housemates – a conversation that only dissolved as the people around him started receiving letters and parcels. Leander had corresponded with his family only the day prior, so he wasn’t expecting the roll of parchment that landed where his eggs and toast had been only minutes prior.

Garreth could barely contain the grin on his face as he watched Leander unroll the parchment. Bloody hell, MC worked quickly. Leander had only managed to panic about his missing assignment for an hour before it was miraculously back in his hands. He couldn’t blow his cover just yet though, so he hid his delight with his teacup, feigning nonchalance. 

Leander’s mouth hung open, completely shocked and confused to say the least, but moreover he was relieved. Further unrolling the scroll, a smaller slip of parchment would fall into his lap. That wasn’t in there before…

Leander,  This is going to sound very strange, but a small brown owl brought this to me yesterday evening as I was sitting in the great hall. I thought you’d want it back. MC

“How in the world?” Leander muttered under his breath, staring at the note in his hands, then checking and double checking that the roll of parchment he’d just received was actually his missing assignment, because there was no way that MC should have had it. 

“Hm?” Garreth hummed, raising a brow and turning to Leander.

“MC has just returned my Ancient Ruins assignment… via owl,” Leander said, fully aware that the idea seemed impossible despite the note in front of him claiming otherwise.

“Weird,” Garreth said and shrugged. “Hey, at least it’s back now though, you can stop worrying.” 

“Yesterday evening… I was in the library. Was she– No, nevermind,” Leander fumbled through his thoughts, trying to decide what to articulate. MC couldn’t have been in his dorm, right? While he was gone? No. Garreth wouldn’t do that. He wanted to go over to her table and question her, but he could only picture how that would go over. Her friends would laugh at him, standing there being far too tall, tripping over his words as he asked where she’d gotten his assignment from. No. He’d send her a note, like she did for him.

Garreth noticed how pensive Leander was, and found it amusing. The other boy had more questions than he currently had answers to, but his plan had worked flawlessly, and now Leander had something to chat with MC about. As far as he was concerned, he could wash his hands of the situation and wait for things to play out.

~~~

Leander was on a mission of his own following breakfast. He jotted a note back to MC, sitting at his desk for far too long mulling over so very few words, but eventually, he had a note that he didn’t think would be too mortifying to send. A simple thank you, and some speculation about his owl. 

MC, You’re right, that did sound very strange. But I did need it back, so, thanks. A small brown owl, you say? Sounds like my Hoots, but I have no idea why he’d do such a thing… He was in the castle last night, though, the menace of a bird. Leander

Even though the exchange wasn’t face to face, Leander found himself nervous as he walked his note from the Gryffindor dorms all the way to the Owlery. He had to admit, though, the fresh air was nice, and the grounds still smelt pleasantly of rain from the day before. He just hoped the climb up the tower would be worth it, that his note would be well received and he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d reply again. He liked seeing his name in her handwriting.

Leander found Hoots easily amongst the other owls currently occupying the Owlery, as he was quite a bit smaller than most of the rest of them, and he approached his owl with crossed arms and an inquisitive stare. 

“I hear that you may have had an outing yesterday while I was in the library,” Leander began, raising his brow at the owl who craned his neck around, big round eyes looking innocently back at him.

“You’d tell me if Garreth was up to something, right?” 

Hoots could neither confirm nor deny.

“If either of you are up to something, I’ll find out,” Leander said in warning before producing his note for MC from the pocket of his robe and handing it to Hoots. “Take this to MC, please.” 

Hoots chirped, gripping the paper in his talons before stretching out his wings and taking flight, and Leander began his walk back to the castle with a fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

Back in possession of his assignment, Leander was able to get it finished before lunch, and it had felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew he stressed too much about his classes, but he wasn’t one of those students who could perform well on assignments or tests without putting in a lot of effort. But with the ordeal finally  behind him, he was able to enjoy lunch, and get back outside for a bit of afternoon Summoner’s Court with Garreth after the meal.

“I still don’t understand how she ended up with it, but I’m really glad she returned it,” Leander commented, pacing the board behind Garreth as the other boy lined up his pull.

“Of course she returned it, she’s a nice person,” Garreth said, then took another moment to check his aim before casting the summoning charm on one of the blue balls at the other end of the court. He earned himself a nice thirty points and smirked. “I’m getting better at this.”

“You are, thanks to me,” Leander boasted. He’d been practicing a lot since fifth year, as he was determined to not lose to MC again, should another chance to play with her arise. He liked showing off to his other competitors, though, too. He and Garreth played frequently.

“Anyway,” Garreth said with a roll of his eyes, watching Leander summon one of the red balls towards them. It rolled to a stop in the forty point zone and Garreth couldn’t be surprised. He was doing better, but he’d yet to beat Leander. “What’s it matter how she got it? You got it back in time to finish it up.” Deflect, deflect, deflect!  

“Yes, but it’s odd, and I don’t like it. I feel like I’m losing my mind trying to figure out how in Merlin’s name she got hold of it.”

Garreth shrugged, then took his second turn, one of his balls rolling up beside Leander’s red one for forty points. Damnit if Leander wasn't inquisitive, though. He had to change the subject. Thankfully, an owl gliding towards them made this easy. He pointed up at the bird and shouted, “Look!”

“Oi, don’t try to distract me while I’m lining up my shot!” Leander grumbled, fumbling his casting and only earning himself twenty points on his second turn. He hadn’t even noticed the owl, but he did notice the small roll of parchment fall at his feet just then, and his face heated up as he looked sheepishly back at Garreth. “Oh… sorry Gar.”

“Always assuming the worst of me,” he teased. “Well, what is it?”

Leander unrolled the small piece of parchment and his face continued to flush. “She wrote back, she replied to my note,” he said with a grin before reading the note.

Leander, Hoots? Well, that's a very fitting name for an owl. He’s a cute little guy, and surprisingly demanding for as small as he is. I was in the courtyard when he found me with your last note and he seemed offended that I didn’t have any treats on me at the time. Give him extra from me. MC

Leander read and reread the note. Was she teasing him for his owls name? It certainly sounded that way, and that made him feel warm. He’d apparently had a ridiculous look on his face, that he hadn’t even been aware of until he felt Garreth’s hand on his back, giving him a hard pat and snapping him out of it.

“Your face is as red as your hair right now, you know,” Garreth teased, trying to sneak a peek at the note in Leander’s hands.

“Shut up,” he grumbled and stuffed the note into his pocket before hopping off of the Summoner’s Court platform and heading back towards the front of the castle.

“Where are you going?” Garreth shouted. “We haven’t even finished this round!”

“I need to write her back!” Leander called over his shoulder.

“I’m ten points ahead, if you leave right now, I win!” 

“Congratulations!” Leander shouted back, and gave Garreth a wave. 

Losing a game of Summoner’s Court didn’t seem like such a big deal when he was exchanging little notes with MC after a summer of not talking to her. All the worrying and pining Leander had done over the last few weeks since classes had started back up felt silly now – she was joking with him and she wasn’t ignoring him. Maybe Garreth was right, maybe he had been making things harder than they needed to be. Leander knew he had a habit of getting stuck in his head, but acknowledging this issue was much easier than actually fixing it. Still, he was feeling very hopeful as he made his way back to his desk to write another reply.

~~~

MC hadn’t expected to spend her Saturday writing little notes back and forth with Leander, but she found herself to be thoroughly enjoying it. Something about it was fun, even with how simple and silly it was. It made her wish they would have exchanged letters over the summer, even though they were both to blame for not having done so.

Leander’s second note came as MC was practicing dueling with the training dummies in the clocktower entrance of the castle. There wasn’t an official crossed wands session scheduled for this evening, but really, one could never be too well practiced.

She was glad, actually, that she was only practicing with the dummy when Hoots found her, because had she been dueling a living opponent, she’d have surely lost the round due to distraction. Not to mention, if she was in a real duel, she’d have had to deal with a crowd of her peers seeing her go all blushy. More familiar with Leander’s owl now, she raised her arm, offering Hoots a perch, and the bird landed gracefully to deliver her note.

“I still don’t have any treats, I’m sorry. Hopefully Leander gave you some earlier,” she told the owl as she carefully unrolled the slip of parchment. 

MC, I’ll have you know, I named Hoots when I was 11 years old, so all things considered, I think I did well. It could have been so much worse, honestly. He’s quite spoiled already, but I did give him some extra treats since you were so ill prepared earlier, and I think he’s forgiven you. Hope you’re having a good weekend so far. Leander

She hummed warmly as she read his note, glancing at Hoots who remained perched on her left forearm. “He’s had you for quite awhile then, that’s sweet. And you’re spoiled, are you?” She spoke fondly to the owl, and couldn’t help but picture Leander doting on his pet. Hoots cooed happily, seeming to enjoy the attention before flying back off and out the open gates of the Clock Tower entrance. Both of Leander’s notes would accompany MC through the rest of her day, nice and secure in her pocket. She found herself peeking at them when she had moments to herself from then until dinner.

She was planning on writing him back, too, of course, she’d even thought of what she’d wanted to say as she sat at her house table amongst her friends in the Great Hall at dinner time. That is, until she saw him walking through the tall wooden doors and towards the Gryffindor table, because at that point all of her thoughts seemed to simply evaporate, and she just watched him with what was probably a very stupid grin on her face. 

But then he looked at her, and her grin didn’t seem so stupid because his own grin matched, and he waved at her. The whole thing was enough to catch her friend's attention, but the girls who flanked her sides were unable to trace her gaze in time. 

“Who’s got you grinning like that?” one of the girls asked, giving MC a gentle nudge with her elbow. 

Both of the girls were giggling, and MC’s face was getting redder. “Is it the same boy who’s been sending you notes?”

MC was suddenly regretting the small bits of information she’d shared with her girlfriends, because now not only was she being teased (albeit goodnaturedly) but he was watching, too. If MC knew Leander at all, and she liked to think she did, he’d be absolutely eating this up. Thankfully, though, she hadn’t told her friends who the notes were from, because she knew if she had, they’d never let her hear the end of it.

“Maybe so,” MC said with quite the coy smile, as she tried and failed to focus on the plate in front of her, though she knew her friends wouldn’t let her off that easily. 

“Has he been sending you love notes?” one asked.

“They are not love notes, they’re just friendly notes,” MC said, though no amount of insisting would convince the other girls, even though she was being honest.

“And your blushing is just friendly blushing?” the other teased.

“You both ought to remember this next time you find yourselves fancying a boy,” MC warned, feeling smug with her promise of eventual comeuppance before she’d realized…

“So you admit you fancy this mystery boy, then?”

She’d said a bit too much.

~~~

Leander had watched as MC’s friends teased her, and coupled with the way they’d looked at eachother, he knew it was to do with him. She was blushy and her friends were giggling and it was due to him. Even considering the way he had struggled with girls previously, Leander could acknowledge that this was a great sign, and he’d talk Garreth’s ear off about it as the pair relaxed in the common room that evening.

“I told you all you had to do was talk to her- erm, I mean, I guess passing notes does count, too. Still. Told you so,” Garreth said, sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the common room floor, close to the fireplace. There was soot on his jumper from the day's potions experiments and he was flipping through his journal, expanding on notes he’d jotted down earlier about his findings. He’d been listening to Leander gush for several minutes at this point.

“You’re right, I’m not denying it, you do know what you’re talking about sometimes,” Leander admitted. He was sitting on the floor close by Garreth, merely watching his friend work and keeping him company. 

“I’d like that in writing, thank you,” Garreth said with a smirk, not looking up from his journal.

“Very funny. I hope she writes again tomorrow.”

“Better yet, you could talk to her in person. She isn’t that scary, she’s just a girl.”

Just a girl. Leander had heard rumors about things MC had accomplished last year, and he begged to differ. “No, I’m fairly certain that she is scary.”

“You already said I was right, might as well just do what I say,” Garreth said with a smirk.

“I said sometimes,” he clarified. 

They���d go back and forth for a while, until slowly the common room emptied as their housemates headed to their dorms for bed. As the room quieted down, Leander realized how tired he was, and he suggested that he and Garreth head to their dorm as well. Leander couldn’t lie, he was excited to get to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come already. If he could have another day like today with MC, he’d be happy.

~~~

MC had similar feelings when she woke up Sunday morning. Despite her friends teasing her, she was actually quite keen to keep sending back and forth little notes with Leander, and while she still wasn’t quite sure why on earth Hoots gave her his assignment of all things, she was glad it had happened, since it led to such an enjoyable day.

She took her time getting herself ready for the day, dragging her feet intentionally so she could have the dorm to herself as she sat at her desk to finally reply to Leander’s last note. She just wasn’t quite ready for her girlfriends to know who she had such a crush on, since she couldn’t say for certain that he felt the same… At the same time though, if their interactions in fifth year meant anything, she had a bit of an idea. He’d always been so adorably shy around her, fumbling his words while trying to boast. She’d found him endearing from the start and just the thought that he may feel the same had her grinning as she got to writing. 

Leaving her dorm, she headed straight to the Owlery, wanting to send his note before going to breakfast. She hadn’t walked to the Owlery so many times in one weekend since she’d arrived at Hogwarts, but she couldn’t say she minded it, the weather was pleasant and the path wasn’t as muddy as it had been the day before.

Immediately upon starting up the spiral staircase, MC realized that she was not the only student visiting the Owlery to start off the day, as she could hear a boy's voice echoing against the curved stone walls.. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but as she got further up the stairs, she could have sworn she heard the voice mentioned Hoots – a voice that didn’t belong to Leander. Curious, MC cast disillusionment on herself and made her way further up the staircase quietly as she could, until she reached the top and she could just peek onto the landing to see what was going on…

She’d been right. Someone was talking to Hoots. 

“You did so well yesterday, you know that, Hoots? I knew I could count on you to help me pull this off,” Garreth Weasley spoke proudly to Leander’s owl. 

MC held her breath, watching him hand-feed the owl a few treats from a small bag that he’d pulled from his pocket, before handing one of the school’s owls a letter to send off.  She quickly maneuvered up the last few stairs and to the opposite side of the room before Garreth crossed towards the staircase and made his way down. She watched out one of the many windows until she was sure Garreth was gone before finally lifting the disillusionment charm.

She marched right over to Hoots with a smirk on her face, shaking her head in disbelief at what she’d heard. 

“Conspiring with Garreth, are you?” she asked the owl with an amused scoff. “I wondered why in Merlin’s name you brought me Leander’s Ancient Runes assignment.

MC stepped back over to the stairs, sitting down at the top, she pulled a roll of spare parchment from her bag and hastily ripped off a section. Abandoning the note she’d initially planned on sending to Leander, she hastily started scrawling him a new one. 

~~~

Leander saved the seat next to him at breakfast that morning. It wasn’t anything new, Garreth always wrote home on Sundays, something his mum liked for him to do, and that Garreth did without fail. Leander had noticed quickly that Garreth was not the only one missing that morning though. He scanned MC’s house table, and she was not sitting with her friends as she always did. It was a shame. He’d been looking forward to seeing the way she blushed when she looked at him.

Post was arriving as Garreth returned from the Owlery. The other boy was grinning as he slid into his saved seat beside Leander, and he started promptly piling eggs and sausage onto his plate. Out of the corner of his eye, Garreth saw Leander reaching to catch a small roll of parchment as it fell towards him.

“She’s early with it, isn't she,” Garreth commented, quite pleased to see that MC had wasted no time writing to Leander this morning. He was feeling quite smug that his plan had worked out so well. He loved seeing Leander so happy.

“She is,” Leander agreed. It wasn’t a short walk to the Owlery, and the fact that two of her notes came with the morning post meant that she was up and thinking of him first thing in the morning, and that made Leander feel very good.

Leander,  This was meant to be a completely different note, but as I was taking it to the owlery, I came across something very interesting that I think you’d like to hear about. But I should tell you about it in person. Meet me in the library when you get this. MC

“Well?” Garreth asked, leaning in towards Leander a bit to sneak a peek at the note. 

Leander’s already rosy cheeks tinged a bit darker pink as he read the note. She wanted to meet with him in person. Him. No wonder she wasn’t in the Great Hall. She was waiting for him. He let out a breath of nervous laughter before gathering his words, hardly believing his luck. “She wants me to meet her in the library… right now.”

“Oooh, that sounds promising,” Garreth said, clicking his tongue and winking at Leander while giving him a nudge with his elbow.

“It does, doesn't it? She says she heard something interesting and she wants to tell me about it. Wonder what it could be.”

“Well go on, go find out, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Garreth encouraged, and with that, Leander was cutting his breakfast short and making his way out of the Great Hall, holding his head just a bit higher than usual.

~~~

MC made sure she wasn’t hard to find, waiting for Leander at the end of one of the centrally located long tables on the first floor of the library. She was eating an apple that she’d thankfully had in her bag, and watching the door. She hadn’t had to wait long, and she waved when she saw him.

Why was she so nervous? She’d been the one to ask him to meet her, and here he was, walking towards her, and the closer he got the warmer her face felt, until finally he sat down beside her, and the room felt so warm she was sure she’d melt.

“M-Morning,” Leander said as he slipped onto the bench beside MC. He sounded just as nervous, maybe even more so, and this made her feel better. 

“Hey, good morning,” she grinned, pausing a beat just looking at him, and probably doing so for a bit longer than she should have. His honey brown eyes dropped to where his hands laid folded on the table, like he couldn’t quite take the way she’d looked at him. She shouldn’t have glanced down at his hands. Merlin. 

She cleared her throat, her blush creeping up to her ears. “Erm, so I overheard something when I was in the Owlery this morning…” 

“Oh?” Despite being a flushed mess himself, it was clear Leander took pride in the fact that MC also had quite the pronounced blush on her face. He was also very interested to hear anything MC had to say.

“Garreth. He was talking to Hoots. He told him ‘you did so well yesterday’ and said ‘I knew I could count on you to help me pull this off,’” she said, then waited as Leander processed. 

His mouth was hanging open, and he stared at her with wide eyes. She could tell he knew where she was going with this. “He said that to Hoots? You’re sure?”

 “Positive. He gave him treats, too. Then he mailed something using one of the school’s owls,” MC said. “I should add… he didn’t know I was there. I cast disillusionment on myself when I heard him mentioning your owl.”

“You think–”

“Your Ancient Runes assignment–”

“He told Hoots to give it to you, that sly bastard! He was alone in the dorm with Hoots for a good hour and a half Friday evening while I was in the library, and we’d been talking about–” Leander paused, catching himself before he said anything that would embarrass him too much, though, he should have known, MC wasn’t going to let him get off without at least a bit of questioning.

“Talking about what?”

“It– it doesn't matter. I just know it was him. He put Hoots up to it, it’s the only explanation. He… he was trying to get you and I to talk,” Leander admitted.

MC looked just as surprised as Leander had, when she’d told him what she’d overheard. Surprised and delighted. “Was he, now?” She asked with a raised brow and a bit of a smug grin.

“Yeah. He was.” Leander nodded, knowing he should be more forthcoming, but that felt very daunting right now, even with the way MC grinned at him. Damn did she look pretty like that. He knew she was smart, though. She could put the pieces together. 

“Well, it worked,” she said and let out a huff of amusement. 

“It did. I suppose I can’t be too mad at him, can I?”

MC shook her head. She could tell Leander was likely leaving out some details of what he and Garreth had talked about Friday evening, but context gave her enough to go by. If Garreth had wanted them to talk, so much so much so that he went and mettled, they must have been talking about her. Leander had wanted to talk to her. He’d just needed a little encouragement.

“You know, I was worried that you would think I somehow stole that assignment,” MC said, still quite amused and also quite flustered. 

This had Leander grinning, knowing she’d been just as worried about the whole situation as he had been. He was less nervous when he spoke now, smiling at her and talking with his hands as he often did when he was a bit worked up. “When I tell you I wanted to pull my hair out, looking for that damn roll of parchment Saturday morning. I thought I was losing my mind, and I felt even more crazy when you of all people sent it back to me, by owl, no less,” he rambled then shook his head subtly, still almost in disbelief of how it all happened. “And Garreth – that little shite – he helped me search our dorm!”

MC laughed, just picturing the scene playing out as he described it. Bloody hell did her laugh do things to his heart. Leander felt light inside, and he chuckled with her. 

“I’d have loved to see that,” she said, still giggling softly. 

“I imagine it was probably pretty entertaining to watch,” he agreed, looking fondly at her.

“I’m glad you didn’t pull your hair out, though, I rather like your hair,” she added, grinning at the way her compliment made him blush. 

Leander could feel his heart racing. “Th-thank you, I’m glad I didn’t, too, then.”

There were a few moments of silence between them, and their mutual little giggles calmed down. MC’s face softened and when she spoke again, she sounded a little more serious. “You didn’t have to be nervous about talking to me, you know,” she said. She was going out on a limb and making some assumptions, but given what he had said, the fact he was sure Garreth’s intention had been to get the two of them talking, she was fairly confident in her assertion.

“Yeah… that’s what Garreth said, too,” he said and smirked coolly, despite the fact that his stomach was fluttering madly right now.

“Well, he was right.” 

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Leander said and looked around, just making sure the other boy hadn’t sneakily followed him– he wouldn’t put it past him, if he was being honest. He hummed thoughtfully. “But I suppose I won’t be so nervous in the future.”

“Good, because I’ve really enjoyed this – writing back and forth. Talking with you. You better keep sending me notes.”

Leander was beaming. She enjoyed talking to him, she wanted more notes. He’d write her more notes than she’d know what to do with, if it meant she’d keep looking at him the way she was – blushing and smiling and flirting with him. Bloody hell, he owed Garreth majorly for this. Sixth year was going to be a good year. “Don’t worry, I will, I promise.”

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Diasomnia boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Malleus 🐉:

For one, he’s surprised you called upon him of all people, but hey, he’s not complaining. He’s been training for this day somewhat because Gao-Gao Drakon-kun has taught him how to take care of things and keep them alive, though, granted it’s a lot different in this case…but he can get an A for effort, at least. The thought that counts

He’ll sit by your side and ask you what exactly are your ailments, how he can help, all just to gauge what he should do…your very different from a tamagotchi—

Pillows, blankets, anything else? He’ll magic it right your way, probably casting some spell on it, possibly a relaxation one, which would be nice for your predicament

Of course he’ll also have food covered as well, what do you want? Eat it or don’t depending on how you feel, he won’t be mad at all, he’ll just be confused as to why you won’t eat, he's pretty sure humans need to eat to get better quickly, but he won’t pry

He’ll scoff at the medicines your assigned to take and he’ll go make you ancient and passed down remedies from Briar Valley, claiming they work better…and awkwardly enough they do perform a lot better than what you were taking before, so that’s a win because maybe you’ll get better even faster

He’ll let his magic do the work for cleaning.

He’s also not afraid to get sick, he’ll sit with you, he’s more than happy to. No being grossed out here, if anything, it’s quite peculiar how differently illnesses affect humans

He’ll be smug about taking care of you. This is the first time he's done this for a friend, especially as one as good as you.

Lilia 🧚‍♀️:

Bros gonna fuck around with you as soon as he sees you, sorry. But yet again, he does have that paternal side to him, and you just look so…helpless, and he’s not cold hearted, so of course he’ll stay and take care of you

Don’t let him cook, don’t if you wanna live!

If you refuse to eat what he makes you he’ll start getting snippy and uncharacteristically strict, saying how you need to eat to keep up your energy so your body can fight away this illness. Just keep refusing his food, if you’re not hungry then that should be fine and rather easy, but if you are, have him go buy you a little snack. Better than you not eating at all he’ll finally conclude to

He’s also a little iffy with the medicines, again with the cooking, he'll try to make a medicinal item out of herbs and stuff…probably toxic instead of the intended purpose, so don’t take it, trust me. “Oh? My, my…I didn’t realize it would turn out to be a poison! Silly me. Good thing you didn’t have any beastie.” he will laugh it off.

But, he’d still give you the medicines you need, don’t worry. He’s serious when he needs to be, and you’re recovery is important to him right now

He’ll mess around with Grim and the ghosts as you lie in bed, having a little fun himself, but if you need anything, he’ll change up quick and be by your side

Blankets, water, pillows, he’s got it under cover

He’s not scared to get sick himself so he’ll stay close to your side, most likely gently cooing at you and relishing in how you’re just so cute like this

Be warned he will randomly disappear at times, but if you call him he’ll pop up in front of you, upside down as usual. But, he’ll make sure Ramshackle is quiet while you rest, don’t worry

Silver ⚔️:

He’s honored to help you out, so he’ll do so without complaint

When it comes to those he holds dear, he’ll become more protective and do what he can to help them, and you just so happen to be in that group of people, and especially with your state, you’ll be pampered. Since Silver is tasked with watching over Malleus, he’ll do the same for you

What do you need? Well, he’s already on it, actually, so don’t worry.

Food he has under control definitely, man has to save himself from Lilia’s cooking all the time and he’s learned from a young age, so whatever you want he’ll conjure up real quick. Eat it or don’t, if you’re not hungry he’ll understand and save it for later

Do be patient with him, however, he has his sleepy spells and make sure Grim is with Silver if he’s cooking at that moment, though trusting Grim to take over if Silver does fall asleep isn’t really a great option, either-

Oh! He’s awake again, ok, medications, yea, right. If he doesn’t forget to give them to you after he falls asleep, then you’ll be fine. If he does forget, remind him, he’ll apologize and be right on it

When he’s not tending to you he’ll do stuff around Ramshackle, his pet peeve is idleness, so…

He’ll clean up and make sure the rest of the inhabitants are ok

After that, he’ll go back to your room and sit in the armchair, he’s not afraid to get sick, and he’ll doze off along with you

Sebek ⚡️:

Well…he’s going to chastise you severely while he helps you. He’ll say he’s only doing it because you’re Wakasama’s good friend, and that’s the only reason why, not that he’s actually doing this because he wants to and he feels bad, no, definitely not that. “Human! I shall only provide assistance on Wakasama’s behalf!”

He’ll belittle you every time he speaks, and if you have a headache already, just get good at ignoring him yap

Again just like with Silver, his duty is to watch over Malleus, so he’ll evidently do the same with you in a sense since that’s what he’s learned. He'll wait in your room, sitting in the arm chair, most likely reading.

He’s learned to cook well enough for himself, obviously, due to Lilia’s cooking, so he’ll provide you with more nutrient dense meals if you ask him to. He won’t do it unless you ask, he doesn’t wasn’t to assume

Sebek will make sure you take your medications religiously until you're better, it’s your duty, and he always follows his duties, you should, too.

He’ll clean up here and there, make sure Grim and the ghosts are in line, and he’ll grab you anything else you could possibly want, again, not without some complaint. “Humans are weak creatures!” He doesn’t really mean it in a mean way…he’s just being honest 🤷‍♀️

He’ll try and be quiet while you sleep, but forgive him if he yells at Grim at all and wakes you up-

Afterwards he’ll probably get sick himself, feel free to make fun of him then, KARMA

IM DONEEEE! Sorry I took my sweet ass time with Diasomnia, oh lord…

Also, I realized I made each one progressively longer for each character as I progressed through the dorms, so…whoops 🧍‍♀️(I yap too fucking much-)

But hey, now I can start on a new series, just gotta come up with one- or, someone could suggest one if anyone has any ideas!

Btw, requests and asks are open!!! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[ad1isajellyf1sh]

"But 'just friends' don't look at each other like that." A quote I found on Pinterest..(づ￣ ³￣)づ

a short fluff snufmin fic!

genre: light fluff, possibly mutual pining, fluff, idiots in love but are dumb

warnings: none

author's note: first post... sweats.. cookie moomin divider by @fishgills

Giddy is a feeling that Moomintroll was very familiar with. It's a bright summer day, and the refreshing breeze is a nice change to the unrelenting heat of Moominvalley's sun. Resting in a field of summer daisies and peonies swaying in the summer breeze, the shining sun radiates down onto Moomin's white fur. Lying back on the soft grass, he stretches with spread arms. A tranquil peace surrounds Moomin, that and the sound of a familiar tune. A harmonica plays a soft tune, one that Moomin came to both love and admire. Repetitive perhaps, but its relaxing tune is all Moomin needs to truly feel at home. As the harmonica's song comes to a slow end, Moomin is first to jump up from his laid-back position.

It was just a few moments ago when Snufkin had once again wandered off to a remote location to explore. it was then did Moomin had to find and catch his traveling companion so he could invite Snufkin on an adventure in Moominvalley! But, it seems that Moomin had fallen into a deep trace to Snufkin's harmonica. Maybe something a little more, but who knows?

"This is where you have been, Snufkin?" Moomin asks, looking out to the rows of summer flowers that seem to bathe Moominvalley in a sea of vibrant colors.

"Of course, I couldn't resist the urge to explore further ahead. Mr. Hemulen told me about this place, isn't it beautiful?" Snufkin sets down his harmonica only to push off the large rock he had been resting on. Gazing out into the fields, Moomin turns his head to Snufkin's, a smile plays on Snufkin's face as he looks out into the colorful flowers to lush plants. Moomin continues to gaze up at Snufkin, and an unfamiliar feeling settles in Moomin's stomach. A faint breeze rustles through Snufkin's brown hair, his signature green hat wavering ever so slightly. Snufkin places a hand on his hat, keeping it from flying away. Moomin's face turns the slightest bit of pink, and a bubbly feeling tickles Moomin's throat.

"It is beautiful," Moomin mutters under his breath. Blue eyes soften at the Snufkin's content expression. Adornment in the troll's eyes as he smiles faintly.

"What was that Moomin?" Snufkin's curious voice snaps Moomin from his daze. Snufkin turns his head to face Moomin only to see him face anyway quickly. Moomin snaps his head back right back towards the field, a light redness betraying his pale fur. A quickened heart rate makes Moomin a bit too flustered.

"Nothing! Ow." Moomin starts, rubbing the sore spot. Unbeknownst to the troll, a great blush covers his cheeks! Embarrassed at nearly being caught gawking at Snufkin, Moomin grabs Snufkin's hands in a rush, tugging his dear companion to the distant forest line up ahead. Flowers brushing against their legs, tickling their sides.

"Come on, we have an adventure to go to!" Moomin blurts out, his stomach filled with flowers and butterflies. Snufkin's brown eyes widen as Moomin takes his hand. A fleeting pinkness arrives on Snufkin's cheeks, a warm feeling in his chest. Snufkin keeps a good grip on his hat as Moomin leads them into another adventure. The flustered look on Moomin's face catches Snufkin off guard, and yet a smile creeps onto Snufkin's face. Laughing quietly, Snufkin shakes his head before falling into a rhythm beside Moomin. Slyly, Snufkin intertwines their fingers. Moomin feels his heart skip a beat, buzzing in his ears.

"Okay, Moomin." Snufkin chuckles affectionately.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!! This is my first post.. i hope to upload more soon (^▽^)👍

word count: 581

[foreststarflaime]

STARRR YOU GOT ME TO READ ABOUT THE HERAKLES PLAY MORE NOW TOO DJFH

You’re telling me this play ends with Heracles coming back to sanity after Lyssa strikes him with the madness to kill innocents (his family) and being so overwhelmed with grief that he’s wanting to commit suicide but then his “FAITHFUL FRIEND,” Theseus goes on a big speech about friendship and living on and leads Heracles onward to essentially heal and redeem himself???

(I read that they have a big debate over morals too where Heracles is convinced he’s 100% at fault even if the gods/divine had influence over him, but Theseus doesn’t want him to take the blame for something he couldn’t control hhhhhgggg)

Can you imagine….

(In reference to this)

ANGEEEEALLLLLLL IT’S HIM yessss I’m spreading the classics ff7 bug >:)

Ooooo it keeps fitting even MORE the deeper you get into it!!! I just skimmed the part where Lyssa first appears when I was doing that but yeah it just fits even more! I can’t even tell if this is coincidence or not anymore it’s insane. Anyways I’m now going to read through that last bit and share the highlights

Seph and Hojo…ohhhhh oh my goddd…and Rhadore is the sea now, it sunk :(

They tie Hercules down at some point. So. Yknow if they have to physically restrain Seph I will be looking at the writers like the homophobic dog. I know what you are (classics nerds)

Also Hercules says this at one point: “oh for wings to fly!” Cough one wing cough “to plunge beneath the earth!” Flash to Cloud hurling him in the lifestream hehehehehe

Ohhh first of all my heart. Second of all that last line especially sounds so much like Angeal, especially in that line in the teaser: “you gotta block it out and push through to the end!”

Thesus then says “where there is love contagion cannot come” while Hercules is suicidal ideation-ing all over the place and trying to push Theseus away. Power of friendship my beloved oh my god it’s (what we suspect will happen with) them

Ooo there’s also a line where Hercules questions Theseus’ ability/authority to question/relate to him because he hasn’t suffered as he has. Very “we’re from different worlds, we’ll never see eye to eye” Miniroth and Smolgeal core

I am sobbing.

And I’m not even putting everything I see in here dear god it’s them

[yellow-rose-embalmer]

Aesop remains frozen for a brief moment, a hitch in the rise and fall of his chest. Living forever... perhaps that might be the ultimate torment, if death was a freedom, if death was a comfort and a gentle hand to hold, as he thought he was so certain of.

That's exactly why he deserved it.

What would change for him? He felt so distant from those who had the same human mechanisms as him anyway, and... maybe some things were best kept as they were. Maybe he should offer himself to be preserved like he had done to so many before.

A hand trails up Embrace's arm, fingers spreading to take his head, thumb resting just beside the mask. The signs of anger radiated like heat waves, but he could not let go. He knew better than to leave, than to turn away. Yes, his eyes had gone wide, and yes, his heartbeat had started to pulse into his ears rapidly, but he lay still, he could not stand to make matters yet worse.

"Want is a strong word... but..." He struggles to find the words, visibly tongue-tied, the thought of being preserved overwhelming him in a sort of dreamlike haze, the voice telling him he should not be wishing for any part of this eternal damnation. "...but I have my reasons. If it is a punishment, it is one I wholly deserve. Besides... it is for my dear friend."

( @yellow-rose-embalmer )

Aesop arrives, holding himself upright as ever, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before properly approaching. "...I think enough time has passed." He decides not to mention that it has only been a few days since the last meeting. He also chooses to ignore that he did not fully understand the instructions he was given, to wait until he'd cleared his head somewhat. What he did do, was hand over a letter, carefully folded and sealed, handwriting clearly measured, as if the words were considered before writing them down. "I believe something with as much weight as what you had given me previously warrants a proper response... take as long as you need." Once the paper is taken, Aesop folds his hands in front of him and waits.

[Eternity is a long time to wait, I more than know that. Even if I have not existed within it, it is what I have learned to deal with. I will not pretend to know your situation, I will not pretend I do not wish for you to finally rest, but... not looking for allies, yet not wanting to be alone. It is hard for me to separate friends and allies, but... I suppose someone outside of everything you have would be pleasant.

I have learned of many belief systems, but... I personally struggle to see luck as much of a factor. We have much in common, yes, but... who is to say that is entirely good? I had to pause when you described me as 'disillusioned', but... it makes sense. Regrettably. Perhaps I thought that with how little I had known you and how I had been expected to act around those of your status, everything could be taken away easily. I was also too eager to receive the title of 'friend', with how little I had heard it, even if I knew nothing of what lay within.

I do not know if my head is as clear as you would like, but... I do not wish to make you wait forever. You said eternity is too long to spend alone, after all.]

[arillusionist]

“happy inej

sad wylan

mentally disturbed matthias

super nina

drama jesper

big ol’ llama kaz”

-my 10 yr sister who has never read six of crows

[kindnessoverperfection]

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love