#back garden astronomy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

musingsofahufflepuff · 2 months ago

Text

Just to Stop the Feeling

bi!Theodore Nott x m!reader; angst & fluff

summary: in the wake of his mother’s death and his father’s ever increasing expectations of him, Theodore finds love in a place he never would have expected

a/n: a year in the making and this might be the gayest thing i’ve ever written. big shout out to @suugarbabe for listening to me yap about this for weeks, the anon who requested this, and everyone who’s been supporting me the past year. here's 6.2k words of bi awakening, enjoy ♡

The Great Hall was loud, too loud if you asked Theodore. The Sytherin was sat at his house table, head propped up on one hand as his friends chattered around him. The sorting ceremony had just wrapped up which meant everyone in the Hall was catching up about their summers. Theo thought back to just a couple days ago, the oppressive silence that haunted the Nott Manor in stark contrast to just how lively and crowded it was now. His father was rarely in common spaces nowadays, thank Merlin, but that left Theo to stalk around the Manor much like the ghosts floating above him now. If only it was as interesting an existence as Sir Nicholas or even Peeves. Not even a poorly rolled cigarette in the garden brought much enjoyment to him these days.

“Theo! Are you with us mate?”

His eyes drag up to meet the inquisitive look on Enzo’s face. He hums in acknowledgement.

“We’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” Theo takes the cue to look around and see the group looking at him, some in amusement and some—Mattheo specifically, though he tries to hide it—with concern.

He slips on his signature lazy half smirk with minimal effort, rehearsed and perfected. “Tired from the train, what did I miss?”

Enzo perks up and launches them back into conversation, Mattheo visibly relaxing in his peripheral. Arm still supporting his head, he jokes and laughs and nods along to everyone recapping their summer breaks, feeling hollow.

The Slytherin common room wasn’t cozy in the traditional sense, with its cool lighting and excess of stone architecture, but Theo found it comforting nonetheless. He was sitting on one of the leather couches in front of the fireplace, this time only in the company of Mattheo and Draco.

Cool leather against his skin contrasted nicely with the heat of the fire, the familiar voices of his friends putting his soul at ease for the first time in months. He loosely kept up with what they were talking about, his mind simultaneously wandering to thoughts about the new term. Evidently, Draco and Mattheo were on the same wavelength as the topic shifted to Hogwarts and—much to Theo’s dismay—girls. “So Nott, got your eye on anyone this year?”

Theo rolled his head against the back of the couch to face Draco, that smirk back on his face. “Eh, hadn’t thought about it too much. I know Pansy has hers on you, Malfoy.”

The blond scoffs, “as if I wasn’t aware.”

“Like a predator on prey,” Mattheo cracks, smile evident in his voice. Theo allows himself to chuckle as Draco looks at them helplessly. Theo feels Matt’s elbow nudge at his side. “Too bad it isn’t Granger looking at him that way.”

A pillow flies past Theo’s head and smacks the boy next to him square in the face. Mattheo dramatically falls back onto the couch before erupting into laughter.

“Too bad you aren’t a beater, huh Malfoy?” Theo quips, quickly putting up his hands to potentially block another projectile pillow.

Draco just groans, “I’m going to bed.”

The first month of classes flies by fairly quickly, everyone falling into their usual rhythm. Quidditch practices a few times a week, late nights smoking in the astronomy tower and the odd party here and there. Theo is itching to get off the castle grounds.

That’s why he jumped at the opportunity to go when Enzo asked the group for company on his shopping trip that Saturday morning. Theodore loved Hogsmeade in the fall. The shops would put up festive decorations and the entire atmosphere of the small village grew extra cozy.

With a Slytherin scarf loosely draped over his shoulders and Butterbeer on the brain, he met his group of friends at the beginning of the path to Hogsmeade.

The breeze was comfortable as they walked through the village, stopping every couple of shops to peruse the new inventory. They finally make their way to the Three Broomsticks, finding a table for the group.

Theo groans as he gets voted to go up to the bar for drinks. Sitting at one of the stools is a guy in scarf showing off a badger emblem. As he gets closer, he realizes he vaguely recognizes the Hufflepuff. Theo settles himself down on the stool next to him, causing the guy to look over.

He has a quizzical expression on his face, eyes lighting up as he figures out who he’s looking at, “You’re Nott, right? I think we have a couple classes together.”

His heart thumps a little harder at his name on the boy’s lips. The boy in front of him tilts his head when Theo doesn’t respond, reminding him to give a quick nod.

The Hufflepuff’s lips tug up into a small smile as he offers up his name.

Theo blinks a couple times and stammers out something about seeing the guy around sometime before he’s speed walking back to the table, no drinks in hand.

“Whoa, who got Nott blushing?”

Theo furrows his brows together in confusion, a hand coming up to his face. And sure enough, heat was radiating off his cheeks.

“Never mind that, Theo! Where’s the butterbeer?”

Monday morning Theo is sitting in History of Magic before class starts, getting ready for an hour of boredom, when books hitting the desk with a thud catches his attention. He’s startled to see you, the Hufflepuff boy from the Three Broomsticks, standing there already looking at him.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Theo nods, feeling like an idiot. Why was this Hufflepuff boy able to completely shut off his ability to speak, let alone think?

That bright smile is back on your face as you take the seat next to him. And his heart flutters.

“So glad this is the last year of having to put up with Binns and his masterclass story telling,” he can practically feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice and finds himself cracking a smile. An actual smile, not the smirk he usually puts on.

“I know, it’s a wonder anyone manages to stay awake.”

You gesture to the travel mug in your hands, “gotta keep at least a bit of caffeine on me for emergencies. One of my muggle-born friends gave me something called an energy drink? It’s…a lot, to be quite honest.”

Theo huffs a laugh, “energy drink? You’d be better off with some espresso than whatever muggles put in those things.”

You give a contemplative nod, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before he can figure out something else to say, to keep existing in the surprising warmth of conversation with you, Binns is starting up his monotone ramble. Theo feels his heart sink as you look away from him to at least make an attempt to pay attention. He silently looks through his textbook, trying to ignore the weird sensation in his chest.

“Hey Theo, wanna come to the Astronomy Tower tonight?” Mattheo’s voice comes from behind where he’s sat in the common room the next evening after dinner.

He pulls his nose out of the book he was buried in as he thinks it over. It had been a while since he’d had a proper smoke with the lads, and he didn’t need to ask to know that’s what Mattheo had in mind. It doesn’t take long for him to set his book down on the table with a nod, “yeah, sure.”

As he turns around to face him, he sees Enzo right behind the other boy, grinning with a thumbs up. The look on his face makes Theo debate changing his mind, but he walks out of the common room with the pair anyway.

The walk up to the Astronomy Tower is long and filled with so many stairs that Theo is very quickly reminded why he doesn’t bother coming up here as often as he thinks he’d like to. Enzo and Mattheo walk slightly in front of him, talking about something Theo doesn’t really bother to listen in on, Quidditch perhaps? How those two don’t run out of things to talk about, he’ll never know. He��s so lost in thought he barely notices the last two flights of stairs to the top and he’s suddenly hit with the cool air of early fall. He’s also suddenly aware that Mattheo and Enzo are no longer talking, but instead looking at him. He blinks.

“Huh?”

“Told ya he’s just been on a different planet lately,” Enzo quips, nudging Mattheo with his elbow. Mattheo nods in agreement but doesn’t comment on it, instead repeating his question, “I said do ya got your own smokes or are you taking one off me? Cause if you are, we’re fucked. I’m out.”

Theo isn’t surprised in the slightest, “is that why you invited me? Free cigs?” Nonetheless, he pulls a pack out of his pocket and holds it out for him.

Matt grins as he swipes one, “nah, but it doesn’t hurt. You’ve always got nicer ones than me.” Enzo immediately scoffs.

“It’s cause you’re broke Matty—”

“Shut up, no I’m not!”

“Then explain why you keep mooching off of me—” they continue to bicker before Theo cuts them off. “Matt, got a light?”

Mattheo shuts up and holds out a lighter, flicking it to life with practiced ease. Enzo swoops in with his joint before Theo can even pull a cigarette out of his pack, rolling his eyes at his friend. Mattheo raises an eyebrow quizzically, “weed? Seriously?”

Enzo just shrugs nonchalantly, cocky little smirk on his face. “Not my fault neither of you know how to have fun—hold on, is that my fucking lighter?!” Mattheo gives him a shrug, moving it away from where Enzo’s leaning in to get a better look.

Theo sighs, “I think he meant on a school night—”

“Who are you? My mum? Didn’t think you cared about actually attending lessons, Teddy—” Theo immediately scowls at the nickname, making Enzo raise his hands in surrender, smirk still planted on his face. Merlin, he could be insufferable.

Theo returns the shrug, trying to play it off, “just figured with OWLs coming up—”

He’s cut off once again, this time by Mattheo, “don’t tell me, you wanna make sure you don’t miss sitting by that Hufflepuff.” Damn his ability to see straight through him. “Don’t think we didn’t notice you two sitting together yesterday in Binns’ class.”

“Well, I didn’t…” Enzo interjects but is ignored by Mattheo other than an exasperated eye roll.

“You seemed pretty chatty; wasn’t that the same guy at the Three Broomsticks last Saturday?”

Theo quickly lights the cigarette on Mattheo’s still flickering flame and shoves it between his lips. He receives an unimpressed look at his attempt to avoid the question, but to his credit, Matt refrains from pressing further. The same cannot be said for Enzo.

“So what, you’re fraternizing with Hufflepuffs now, are ya mate? Never thought I’d see the day—” his teasing is abruptly ended by Mattheo whacking him upside the head.

Mattheo lights his own cigarette before putting the lighter away, taking a deep drag from it. There’s a beat of silence between them. A gentle breeze passes through the tower as Theo looks out at the Scottish Highlands bathed in the light of the moon.

“He’s just…nice, I guess. Doesn’t seem to mind I’m a Slytherin,” Theo finally answers, releasing a stream of smoke.

Enzo chuckles, rubbing the back of his head where he was whacked. “Fair enough. I feel like usually only girls that want a little fun are willing to break that barrier.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he takes a drag as well. Mattheo snorts with a nod. “At least it's not a Gryffindor.” Theo’s nose subconsciously scrunches.

“Yeah, remember that Gryffindor Enz was all over end of last term because word was going around he had a good pot stash?” Now it’s Mattheo getting shoved, but he barely reacts besides a huff of a laugh.

“Didn’t even have the goods,” Enzo pouts petulantly, “wasted a whole 2 weeks for nothing.”

“I think you’ll live, mate.”

Theo leans back against the railing, cigarette between his lips as he watches his best mates as their bickering shifts into them laughing and joking like it always does. He adds a couple quips here and there, mind wandering to the Hufflepuff boy periodically as the cigarette slowly dwindles. Once it’s reached the end of its life, he snuffs it out, pushing himself off the floor where they’d ended up sitting for the past hour. “I think I’m heading back down to the dorms, it’s getting late.”

Mattheo shares a look with Enzo. With a smirk, Enzo wolf whistles, “gotta get your beauty sleep for your little badger, eh Nott?”

Theo just flips him the middle finger as he crosses the tower to the first of many, many stairs. As his descending footsteps echo through the stairwell, Enzo turns to Mattheo, “poor fucker is whipped.”

Mattheo nods, “and down right oblivious…how many galleons are we betting for how long it takes him to figure it out?”

There’s a mischievous smirk on the other boy’s face. “How much you got?”

The next morning, Theo is once again startled by the Hufflepuff boy dropping his books on the table with that same dramatic thud. If Theo didn’t know any better, he would start to think it was intentionally to get his attention. This time, he speaks first.

“Morning.”

There’s that bright smile again and Theo’s chest feels…odd.

“Morning!” you chirp as you slide into the seat. “I took your advice and got some espresso, much better than that muggle concoction. Figured since it was your suggestion, I’d bring you some. Mum got some beans from a cafe in London when I wrote her about it.”

Once again a warm sensation floods Theo as a second mug is set on the table and slid his direction. He carefully picks it up and takes off the lid, finding a double shot inside. It’s still hot from what he assumes is a temperature charm on the mug and the warm sensation in his chest gets stronger.

He raises the cup to his nose, inhaling the comforting aroma of coffee before taking a sip. It’s not quite the taste of home, but it’s close. He nods appreciatively.

Then before he can stop himself he’s making an offer, accent a hint thicker than he typically tries to control, “I’ll have to make you a cup the way I had growing up sometime. This is good though.”

Theo doesn’t have time to backtrack or change his mind before your smile is turning softer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

To hide the flushing of his cheeks, he quickly downs the rest of the liquid and hands the mug back. For maybe the first time ever he’s glad Binns decides now is the perfect time to begin the monotonous period.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you put the mug back in your bag, soft smile still on your face. And maybe Theo doesn’t hate this class as much as he thought he did.

Over the following weeks, Theodore does the unthinkable: he looks forward to bloody History of Magic, just for the opportunity to chat with you before class.

His friends share looks at breakfast as he starts leaving earlier and earlier each Monday and Wednesday, hoping to get even just a bit of extra time with you. Because he’s too nervous to ask you to hang out. And he cannot for the life of him figure out why.

He’s Theodore Nott. The stoic, level headed and lusted after Slytherin. Right? He makes people nervous. He flusters pretty girls. So what the bloody hell is going on?

He’s never, not once in his 5 years at Hogwarts, ever considered the possibility that someone could do this to him. Let alone a stupid, pretty Hufflepuff boy with a gentle, excited smile that’s way too eager to mingle with a snake. But somewhere in his gut Theo knows he’d be devastated if the other boy stopped.

And that terrifies him.

One morning after several weeks of sitting together, you once again drop your books onto the desk with the theatrics Theo’s come to expect from you. He subconsciously finds himself perking up at the sound just before you start chattering away, something he’s also grown almost fond of. He likes that you tend to fill the space he’d otherwise find awkward or tedious in conversation, seemingly undeterred by his often quiet nature. And he’s more than happy to just listen to you and bask in your welcoming presence.

This time you’re talking about the History of Magic exam coming up in a couple weeks and your lack of a study partner, something that instantaneously catches Theo’s attention.

“Yeah, my usual study buddy bailed on me, the nerve,” you laugh. “So now I’m on the hunt for a new one…”

Theo’s heart rate picks up as you trail off, there’s no way you’re going to say what he’s hoping you will. Right? There’s no way he’s that lucky. Hell, there’s no way someone like you would want to be around him outside sitting next to each other in the worst class offered at Hogwarts. He’s pretty sure you have less controversial friends to ask than a brooding Slytherin whose best mate is the son of Voldemort, for fucks sake—

His internal pity party is cut short by you looking at him almost… nervously?

“Would you maybe be free to, I dunno, study together some time next week? It’s cool if you’re not, I just thought—well, I’m not sure what I thought—other than that I would offer,” your question starts to shift into a ramble and your cheeks flush as you seem to realize it. Meanwhile, Theo’s heart has stopped and his breath catches in his throat. He has to hold himself back from shouting a thrilled “Yes!”

He clears his throat, desperately clinging to his composure. “Yeah, sure, I could make that work. When did you have in mind?”

Theo feels nearly sick with nerves as he sits at the Central Hall fountain outside of the library waiting for you. He was at least 15 minutes early, mostly because Enzo said he would hex him if he kept pacing around the dorm room like he had been for the prior half hour. His foot taps anxiously in a way he is not used to. He's no stranger to stress, but this is on a different level. All he's going to be doing is go over the most boring aspects of wizarding history with you for a couple hours and here he is, worried he's going to end up in the Hospital Wing with heart palpitations. He takes a deep, shaky breath as he looks up at the snoring dragon mural above the library. Just breathe you idiot!

“Hey Theo, sorry I'm late. My dormmate would not shut up.” He hears your voice before he sees you, his head turning to follow the sound. And he tries to keep the surprise off his face at hearing you call him Theo instead of Nott like you had been since that afternoon in the Three Broomsticks. “You ready for the most exciting next couple hours of your life?” Oh, and what he wouldn't do to see that teasing little grin on your face more—

“Ready,” he stands from the fountain bench, following behind you through the heavy wooden doors of the library.

He walks half a step behind you as you weave your way through the tables and shelves, finding a relatively remote spot in the already quiet space. For maybe the first time in—your friendship? Theo hopes that's what you two are at least—the entire time he's known you, your set your books down without the slam.

You must have noticed the look he was giving you because you smirk. “I don't just go throwing books when you're not around. And close your jaw, you'll catch lacewing flies.”

Theo lightly bites on his lip as he sits next to you at the table, your shoulders almost touching. You flip the massive textbook open and pull a couple quills and parchment from your bag as you settle in to go over the material.

There’s a feeling of familiarity with you that Theo wasn’t anticipating. Conversation comes more naturally than when he’s spoken with you before class and he realizes he really, really likes spending time with you. There’s no bickering like there is with Matt and Enzo, no snarky comments thrown around for laughs. It’s peaceful and warm.

He feels like that around you a lot, he realizes, warm. Comfortable. His arm brushes against yours.

Theo and you spend the next couple hours working through the exam material, interspersed with getting to know each other. He listens to you ramble about your favorite classes this term, your friends—anything you’re willing to tell him, he wants to drink it all in.

Neither of you seem to notice how close you’ve gotten to each other until he can feel your breath on his face and that warmth that seems to radiate off of you. Then, you’re getting closer.

There in the back of the library, Theo’s world comes to a standstill as you gently press your lips against his, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. It takes him a couple seconds to regain his senses before moving his lips back against yours, losing himself in the kiss.

He notices you taste like earl grey which blends with the woody scent of your cologne in an intoxicating mixture. Much too soon for his liking you’re pulling back and he has to stop himself from whining at the loss of contact.

His eyes flutter open to find you haven’t gone far. In the silence he thinks about how pretty your eyes are and maybe—no, definitely—that’s his new favorite color.

“Was that okay?” your voice is just above a whisper.

Theo just leans forward and recaptures your lips in another kiss. First his mind swirls with this is what kissing is supposed to feel like. He’s dumbfounded that it really can feel like fireworks and it’s not just some sappy bullshit made for the romance novels Pansy and Daphne read.

Then it all comes crashing down.

The next thing he feels is dread. Overwhelming, overpowering dread. He can’t quite place why, but it’s there. And suddenly he’s pulling away from your lips like he’s been burned.

He sees the shock on your face, but before he starts to apologize or explain, his father’s voice is itching in the back of his mind. He steps back.

Your voice saying his name is muffled by the ringing in his ears and your concerned expression is taken over by that all too familiar disappointed look in his father’s eyes. He runs away, feeling more like a coward than he’s ever felt in his life.

And the worst part is he knows he’s leaving you alone, confused and hurt. But he does it anyway.

After wandering the corridors of the castle for the better part of 10 minutes, lost in thought, he finds himself in front of the music room. Like his body instinctively knew where he needed to be. He pushes the door open, relieved to find it empty. The wooden stairs creak as he walks up. He sits on the rug by the piano, hugging his knees to his chest.

Theo is alone in the music room not 20 minutes before Mattheo finds him. A bloodhound that boy. Or maybe he just knows Theo too well.

“Your little badger sent me.” Mattheo eases down onto the rug next to him, close enough for his knee to lightly graze Theo’s thigh. “He was freaking out like the world was ending or he kicked your cat or something. Didn’t know where to find you, but he did find Berk and I in the Astronomy tower. So I said I’d take care of it, you’re welcome.”

Theo just hums in acknowledgment.

“So…did he actually kick your cat or what?”

Theo shakes his head.

“Well it must have been pretty bad since you came here. Haven’t seen you hiding out here since, well—” his mum died. Mattheo doesn’t have to finish his sentence, they both know.

A long breath he didn’t realize he was holding breaks out in a sigh as his eyes shut. The soft enchanted piano music is the only sound for a moment as he wills away the emotions threatening to surface. “I don’t know, maybe the world is ending.”

A couple more beats of quiet. “Wanna talk about it?” He knows deep down it’s a question Matt will respect the answer to. And he briefly debates turning him down, but something compels him to slowly nod.

“He—we kissed.”

“Was it bad?”

“No.”

Mattheo nods as he considers the response he was given. “So the problem was that it was good?”

“Yes? No? Maybe?”

“That’s kinda dodging the question, mate.”

Theo groans, “I don’t know, okay?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I just— cazzo! This is wrong, isn’t it? Feeling like this?”

“Theo—”

“I can’t feel this way for another guy. My father would disown me and it’d ruin my life. I’m supposed to marry a pureblood witch and produce an heir and—”

Before Theo has time to stop him or even process what’s happening, Mattheo is grabbing him by the face and pressing their lips together, and that same fluttering sensation is back. It’s not as strong and thrilling as kissing you, Theo’s not sure that’s even replicable, but it still feels nice in a way none of his previous kisses have been. Where he was going through the motions for some reason even he didn’t understand. But no, once again he can understand why people would want to do this.

Then as quick as he was pulled in, his best friend is pulling away, silently observing him for a moment.

“Did the world end?”

“…No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

They sit staring at each other as Theo’s brain struggles to formulate a response.

“Matty, I—” he hesitates like this is going to be what destroys their friendship, “I don’t think I’m…straight.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

And something about the way he says it makes Theo feel better. Like he’s not being judged or ridiculed for feeling this way. Like it’s something natural. A no-brainer, boring fact of life. Theo thinks he might cry.

Instead he leans forward and connects their lips again, just briefly. And part of him knows Mattheo can feel the underlying sadness and fear in it. But when they pull apart once again, neither of them comment on it. A weight feels like it's been lifted off him.

“I think,” Theo pauses as he debates speaking about this out loud for the first time, like it will make it real. “I think I haven’t really felt like myself since my mum...y'know?” He says it like it’s a question, but they both know the truth. “I know it’s been 2 years, I should be fine. But I’m not.”

Mattheo, who had been quietly listening, speaks. “I don’t know Theo…I’ve barely heard you talk about her since you came back to school third year. Have you talked about it to anyone? Hell, have you let yourself grieve?”

“I…I don’t know how. My father stopped mentioning her after the funeral and—he barely acknowledged she was even gone.” He pulls his knees back up to his chest. “I miss her.”

He feels the comforting warmth of Matt’s hand on his shoulder blade. And the gentle touch of his thumb across his cheek, wiping a tear away is the first indication that he’s started to cry. He quickly sniffles in an attempt to stop the tears, but it doesn't work. If anything, it just makes them fall faster. He tucks his head down, forehead against his knees. Mattheo's hand gently rubs his back as they sit in silence as he cries. He's grateful Matt doesn't try to help by speaking, the gentle piano filling his ears like a warm hug after being lost in the cold for days with no reprieve.

The silent sobs eventually slow, his body no longer shaking from the force of them. And weirdly, he feels better. He’s spent his whole life being told that men don’t cry, especially pureblood wizards of their status, so when the weight comes off his chest he’s shocked at how easy it is to just breathe.

He pulls his head up to look at Matt, who isn’t looking directly at him but keeps his hand on Theo’s back. A soft murmured, “thanks,” passes his lips and causes the curly haired boy to return his attention to him. Mattheo doesn’t comment on how red and tear-stained his eyes are, much to Theo’s relief.

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Mattheo hesitates before speaking again, “you don’t have to listen to me, cause what do I know, but I think you should talk to him.” Theo thinks back to you, how lost and hurt you looked when he ran from the library and he sighs.

“When did you get so wise?”

Mattheo shrugs, “we’ve all had to grow up pretty fast…you’re my best mate Theo. It sucks seeing you like this, y'know?” He lightly nudges Theo’s shoulder, “kinda ruins the vibe.”

Theo can’t help but chuckle, “you’re an idiot.”

“And here I thought I was wise.”

“I was wrong, you’re fully a dumbass.”

“Nah, that’s Enz. But seriously, talk to him. We’re all tired of you pretending this isn’t something you want, whether you realize it or not.”

Theodore reluctantly nods, “fine. Fine, you’re right. I think I like my, what did you call him? Little badger?”

Mattheo grins and shifts away from Theo, looking a bit too happy for a man that just watched his friend cry over a crush.

“What are you so cheery about?” Theo raises an eyebrow as Mattheo gets up to return to the Astronomy Tower.

Mattheo throws a smirk over his shoulder as he lingers at the top of the stairs, “Enzo owes me a hundred galleons.”

“Wait! You two idioti bet on this?!”

Despite feeling somewhat better after his talk with Matt, Theo avoids you for the rest of the week. Come Wednesday morning, he’s sliding into the seat next to Mattheo in History of Magic, ignoring Enzo’s annoyed “Hey!” in protest and Mattheo’s side-eye.

He doesn’t turn around to see the disappointed look on your face as your books softly thunk on the desk behind him where you two usually sat. But he doesn’t miss the lack of usual flair the sound has. His heart aches.

“Riddle said you’d be in here.”

Your voice breaks through Theodore’s thoughts, pulling his eyes toward you walking up the steps and over to him.

He'd been finding himself coming back to the music room over and over again since he started avoiding you. He wasn't entirely sure why, maybe he just wanted to stop the dull ache of loneliness in the absence of you. He pushes the thought out of his mind.

You settle down on the rug next to him, jarringly similar to the position he'd been in with Mattheo a week ago. Only you were further away, and while he couldn't blame you, he hated it.

“Sorry for kissing you so suddenly, I just—I’d been wanting to for like a month and I guess I was hoping you wanted it too. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

He quickly shakes his head, “no, don’t apologize, it was—I liked it. I’m sorry for running off like that. I think I got…overwhelmed. I didn’t exactly know I was, y’know, into guys before…you.” He forces it out despite his embarrassment, cheeks a light shade of pink.

You look at him with a small, somewhat sad smile, “it’s fine. Kinda reminds me of that day we properly met in Hogsmeade. You ran then too.” You pause briefly before adding, “and don’t worry about it, this is new for me too.”

Theo flushes more intensely at the memory as you turn your head to look around the music room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before. Riddle had to give me directions...Why here?”

His mouth goes dry as he stares at you. “My, uh, my mum used to play the piano. She tried to teach me, but I couldn’t fully get it before…” he trails off for a moment before pushing past it, “I come here to feel close to her.”

A look of realization passes over your face, “oh, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really like to talk about it.”

A hesitant hand reaches out to rest on his knee. He didn’t even realize he’d relaxed his legs down from his chest.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Teddy—”

He gasps at the nickname, soft and filled with raw emotion. “I want to.”

“She was… the only person I felt truly got me, before Mattheo at least. And she uh, she used to call me Teddy. So since she—” he hesitates, the finality of it all hitting him at once like it’s the first time he heard the news all over again, “since she died, I haven’t let anyone call me that.”

He sees the way your eyes soften further, but it’s not from pity, like he’d come to expect from the topic, no, it’s deeper than that. It’s empathy. “I didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, like you’re about to apologize, but truthfully that’s the last thing he wants. So he keeps speaking.

“She would have loved you.” His hand shifts to rest over yours, still on his leg. “She would have loved how…happy you make me. So, I want you to call me Teddy, please.” It comes out a bit more desperate than he intended, but when did anything ever go as planned when it came to you?

But you don’t run. You don’t look at him in disgust for showing emotion. You just nod with a soft, “okay Teddy.”

And god, that fluttering sensation is back. A small smile tugs on his lips; before he knows it he’s leaning forward, needing to be closer, as close as you’ll possibly let him. And this time, without any guilt or shame or fear, he kisses you.

And he feels like he’s drowning. Drowning in your lips, in your scent, in you. Like water filling his lungs, it burns so sweet. Surrender to the unknown, letting his lingering heartache and worries about his father’s expectations go until all that’s left is you.

It’s pure bliss.

As your lips move together in sync, his body heats up and he finds himself craving more. He’s just received a taste, but he can already tell he’s going to be insatiable; the need to devour you, to become one with your very essence, is overwhelming. But he doesn’t run away. He pushes deeper.

He feels your hand cupping his face, almost to steady yourself from falling over as his tongue brushes against your lips, begging, pleading for mercy. Like he’ll fall apart if you don’t let him explore every inch of you. Your lips part.

Tongues dancing together, he pushes you down until your back hits the rug, his torso hovering over yours as his hands on either side of you hold him up. Your fingers caress his cheek, touch featherlight.

The kiss lasts until neither of you can breathe, parting only to gasp and pant, inches from each other’s face. You suddenly laugh, a sweet sound that rivals the room’s quiet piano in its beauty.

“You’re still here,” your eyes search his, like you’re trying to find doubt in them, but there is none. He wants to kiss you like that for the rest of his life.

“I don’t think I’m scared anymore.”

Your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him back into another kiss catches him off guard, but he melts into it like his body was made to meld with yours. It’s soft and sweet and feels like home.

The next morning at breakfast, you’re sitting next to him like you belong at the Slytherin table, at his side and getting acquainted with his friends. Enzo’s in the middle of asking you for details on which Hufflepuffs have the best weed when Draco comes over and sits down, an apprehensive look on his face. “I suppose this is something you just expect us to get used to?”

“Yes.” It’s Mattheo who speaks, grabbing a bit of toast off Draco’s plate and taking a bite. “He makes Theo happy, he’s one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

Enzo pipes up from beside him, “I’ll do anything to never have to listen to Theo hopelessly pine like that ever again.”

Draco huffs and as Theo’s about to say something, he hears you laugh softly next to him as your hand gently squeezes his thigh. “Just gonna have to live with some yellow brightening your mornings, Malfoy.” The other two boys snicker at the defeated look on Draco’s face and start to tease him that he’s just jealous Nott grew a pair and managed to ask someone out. But Theo barely notices.

He presses a kiss to your temple, heart fluttering as you grin up at him and for the first time in a long time, he’s happy.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x male reader #theo nott x male reader #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #x male reader #mattheo riddle x theodore nott #a lil bit of #mattheo riddle x enzo berkshire #if you squint #bisexual #gay #theo nott x reader fluff #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #mykie fics

218 notes · View notes

pandapetals · 2 months ago

Text

The Wolverine

You tell Logan about the myth of the Wolverine.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Im sad that logan doesn't remember kayla. She deserved better, well both of them did. So i wrote this for her. I did some googling and found in Innu culture they see the wolverine in a few different ways so i took that and ran with it.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

You were curled up in the oversized armchair on the balcony, wrapped in a soft blanket, gazing out over the garden bathed in silvery moonlight. The stars sparkled overhead, scattered across the sky like tiny, far-off promises, casting a gentle glow over everything. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles along your upper arm.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, you let out a quiet sigh, eyes still fixed on the stars. "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, you know? Studying literature. Maybe I should’ve gone into astronomy instead." You paused, a small smile playing on your lips. "Stars are just so beautiful. There’s so much out there."

Logan chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled through his chest. "Oh yeah? So you could spend your days talkin’ about constellations and meteors? Think I’d go crazy, darlin’."

You nudged him playfully. "Oh, because listening to you ramble about ancient battles and military strategies is so riveting."

He smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. "Hey, at least I know how to make it interesting."

You rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. "Sure, you do, tough guy." After a moment, you tilted your head back to the sky, the light of the stars casting a soft glow in your eyes. "But, really... I've always wondered. Why Wolverine? I get the whole 'fierce and growly' thing, but it’s oddly specific."

Logan gave you a look, a playful warning in his gaze. "Watch it, sweetheart," he drawled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked back out over the garden. "Truth is… I’m not sure where it came from. Can’t remember. Might’ve been ‘cause I was a… well, an animal. Felt like one back then, anyway."

You reached over, resting a gentle hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not an animal, Logan," you said softly, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "You never were."

He let out a faint sigh as if he didn’t fully believe you, though he appreciated the sentiment. "Maybe not," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the stars. "But it sure felt like it sometimes."

A peaceful silence settled between you, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the stars glitter above. "Did you know," you said softly after a moment, "that in one Innu legend, the wolverine was actually a creator of the world?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with a skeptical smirk. "Now you’re makin’ stuff up."

You laughed, nudging him again. "I swear! It’s true. According to the story, the wolverine built a boat to save the animals from a great flood. Then he told a mink to dive into the water and gather mud, and he used it to create an island. That island eventually became the whole world."

Logan shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You always gotta turn everything into a story, don’t you?"

You grinned, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye. "I can’t help it. It’s what I do." You paused, then added, "There’s another story that says the Wolverine tried to steal light from the midnight sky. He fashioned bits of it into the sun, moon, and stars, creating the northern lights. Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A wolverine bringing light to the world."

Logan looked at you, amusement and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "You got quite the imagination, you know that?"

"Comes with the job," you teased, snuggling closer, resting your head on his chest. "But honestly… you bring light to people too, Logan. Even if you don’t see it. You’re gruff, sure, but there’s a big heart under all that scowling."

He huffed, though his chest rumbled with a laugh as his fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your shoulder. "You’re really layin’ it on thick tonight, aren’t ya?"

"Just stating the facts," you replied, looking up at him with a grin. "You’re kind of like the stars. Tough on the outside, but warm and steady when people need you most."

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as he looked down at you. "If that’s how you see me… guess I can’t argue."

You smirked, snuggling back into his chest. "See? Not so bad being the wolverine, is it?"

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Guess not," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "Not if it means sittin’ here with you under these stars."

You looked up at him, eyes twinkling with playful warmth as you took in the way the moonlight softened his rough edges. "Who would’ve thought?" you whispered with a teasing lilt. "That the Wolverine could be more than just a trickster… that he could be gentle, even thoughtful."

Logan let out a low, skeptical chuckle, giving you a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Oh, is that so?" he rumbled, his voice a soft, low vibration beneath your cheek. "Here I thought I was just some ornery old fighter."

You chuckled, reaching up to trace a finger along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "You’re definitely more than that. There’s a lot more to you than the tough-guy act. There’s… heart, kindness." You paused, smirking as you added, "Though the ‘ornery old fighter’ part is pretty accurate."

He let out a mock sigh, though his eyes glimmered with affection. "Don’t push it," he muttered, pulling you closer as he looked down at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile.

You shifted slightly, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. "You know, in some stories, the wolverine’s not just a trickster. He’s a protector. Fierce, unyielding. The one who keeps everyone safe, no matter what."

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek as he gazed down at you. "So you see me as some kinda myth, huh?" he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "Better be careful, sweetheart. I’m just a man, remember?"

You smiled, covering his hand with yours. "Oh, I know," you whispered, your voice tender. "But you’re my myth, Logan. My hero. The one who showed me what real strength looks like."

For a moment, he looked taken aback, his usual composure slipping as he took in your words. Then, his gaze dropped, as if the weight of your affection was almost too much to bear. "You say all that… but sometimes I still feel like a lost soul," he murmured, his voice rough. "Someone who didn’t know where he belonged."

You cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to yours. "You belong right here," you whispered, your thumb tracing his cheek. "With me. Right where you’re supposed to be."

A soft, genuine smile played on his lips as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "Damn, darlin’," he muttered, his voice barely more than a rumble. "You’re gonna make me go soft."

You laughed, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. "Too late for that," you teased, smiling against his mouth. "I think I’ve already uncovered the soft side of the Wolverine."

He rolled his eyes, but his hand found yours, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as he brought your hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze warm and unguarded. "You really make people question my reputation, you know that?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, am I ruining your whole 'grumpy lone wolf' image?" you teased, grinning up at him.

Logan pretended to be annoyed, though his eyes sparkled with affection. "Damn right, you are," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Can’t go anywhere without folks thinkin’ I’m a softy now."

You leaned in, your face close to his, your smile teasing. "Well, maybe you are.”

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arm secure around you. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your hand. "Otherwise, I might actually be annoyed."

You looked up at him, your heart full, and whispered, "I think you’re cute too, even if you try to hide it."

He groaned, tipping his head back. "There goes my whole reputation," he said, but when he looked back down at you, his gaze was filled with warmth, something so genuine that it made your heart skip a beat.

You squeezed his hand, giving him a playful smile. "Good.” You grinned, closing the small distance between you and kissing him, slow and sweet, letting the world fall away. When you finally pulled back, he was looking at you with a smile so genuine it made your heart skip.

"Happy?" he asked, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars. "Always, with you."

#fluff #logan howlett #wolverine #x men logan #x men wolverine #logan x reader #james logan howlett #hugh jackman #the wolverine #logan wolverine #logan james howlett #marvel #hugh jackman wolverine #logan x fem you #logan x fem!reader #days of future past #professor logan #professor logan howlett #logan howlett fluff

158 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 2 months ago

Note

Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?

Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...

Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)

Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??

Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.

abide by me by cosmya (T)

The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)

Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.

With Potential by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)

Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #social media #online dating #adult omens #mod d

110 notes · View notes

katsukistofu · 6 months ago

Text

we are made of stardust

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ i. midoriya x fem reader. 0.8k words — childhood friends to lovers. fluff. astronomy references.

It's hard for someone to pinpoint their earliest memories. Maybe it was the moment they blew their candles out on their first birthday, or when they scraped their knee while learning to ride a bike.

For you, it’s the smell of lavender fabric softener.

You think your earliest memory is of the sight of his freckled cheeks, with nothing but the green light of the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling illuminating them.

Of sleepovers, reading the most recent copies of your favorite manga that you picked out from the library together under the blanket, holding the coolest pages up for the other to see, and hurriedly tucking the books under his pillows when Inko came in to check if you two were sleeping.

You remember his giggles as he tugs at the blanket to cover the both of you, big deep forest eyes dancing with glee. ‘To protect you from monsters,’ he whispers, only five years old, yet saying it with the unwavering confidence of All Might in those videos he loved to play to death on TV over and over again.

Inko chuckles, noticing you two once again rewinding the video for the third time, entranced by all might as he saves cats from a tree while rescuing civilians from an explosive villain, “faster than the speed of sound!” the title reads, while placing a plate of sliced fruit on the coffee table. He was starting to grow out of his favorite All Might onesie now.

Would he ever outgrow you?

Just as the moon orbits the sun, you can’t remember a time when you weren’t stuck to his side.

You’re the one holding his hands in the pool when he ditches his floaties for the first time, slowly guiding him as he kicks and kicks, holding him tight and not letting him sink.

You’re the one jumping and stomping on his bullies' sandcastles at the beach, when they try to ruin his first.

Accidentally, you’re the first one he tells when he passes the entrance exam for UA. He was calling his mother on the phone when you overheard him saying not to tell you yet, because he wanted to surprise you in person. His mother and you prepare a cute little party for him before he gets home, and upon opening the door to the apartment he’s greeted with a rain of confetti and a table full of his favorite dishes.

Streamers fall around him, and his eyes light up like shooting stars as he hugs his mother and you in his arms. ‘Proud of you, crybaby,’ is what you fondly whisper in his ear and between tears he gives a choked up little laugh.

Just as the earth needs rain, he waters your gardens and tends to your flowers.

He frowns when you frown, cries when you cry. It’s been over a decade but you’ll never forget the big fat tears that ran down his face when you jumped off the swings a little too early and fell on your face. The fourth grade teachers thought he was the one that got hurt.

When he places a bandaid on your knee with a worried pout on his lips, he lends you his light, and you shine it back.

Only five years old and in your mind, he was already a hero.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice. His firm thighs support your head from underneath and you wonder if he’s been working out even more than usual. He grins at your dazed face.

“Were you sleeping on me?” He teases. “For free?”

You roll your eyes as a yawn hits you, stretching in his lap. “Sorry I actually forgot to bring my card with me for this nap, sir.”

“My services aren’t cheap, you know.” He fakes a huff like he’s being scammed big time, and you have to laugh. He was so cute when he was dramatic. “I guess I can start a tab for you.”

“Aw, thanks.” You deadpan, and he snorts in response.

Taking his hand in yours, you trace the scars along his skin, addicted to the feeling of where rough scars meet his soft, baby skin.

He can’t help but blush.

He still gets it, this look in his eyes, like when he makes an observation he’s never realized before amongst his mutterings. Whenever he sees All Might merch on display in store windows, despite already owning most of it already.

But even more so, when he looks at you.

His gaze softens as he admires you in his lap, the slope of your nose and the shape of your mouth that his lips must have traced over hundreds of times by now. When he received that fateful golden strand of hair months ago, and after his mother the first person he thought of protecting was you. Though he knows you’re more than capable of doing it yourself, he wants to. He wonders if you realize it, the reason he saves. If not, he’s willing to remind you, over and over again until it’s woven into the beautiful constellation of your brain.

You’re the one that’s always been his hero.

#idk soft izuku hours ig #got a little poetic there ok mary oliver!#i wrote half of this months ago and just finished it lately LIL #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #mha oneshot #mha x reader #izuku fluff #deku fluff #deku x y/n #deku x you

375 notes · View notes

cougheemedicine · 6 months ago

Text

Twisted Fairytales; Twisted Wonderland Fantasy!au - Prologue

Will include all main cast x GN!Reader

Summary: A nameless adventurer with an incredible amount of friends in high places. Each more infamous and conniving than the last. The things those friends are willing to do for you is only a glimpse of how a so-called "Nobody" ensnared the most powerful in the continent.

A/n: A little au I'm cooking up. Not entirely sure where this will go so I'm not going to put any warnings/specific content until I get the individual chapters out. If this goes anywhere I'll probably add Neige, Che’nya, Rollo, etc. I already have come ideas cooking up for them. Have fun, dear adventurer~ 〜(￣▽￣〜)

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Night Raven College. An incredibly prestigious academy, whose history goes so far back in time that only the oldest Fae of the Briar Valley can even begin to fathom the legacy that such a renowned institute holds, and whose reputation reaches even the darkest corners of the kingdom. Aristocratic families from all over the continent vie to send their children to study the art of magic in its' hallowed halls.

You had attended such a college, once upon a time, though you are far from noble. You met the esteemed headmaster by chance one day, but you didn't know at the time. You had sold him a newspaper, and he grinned at you from under the beak of his mask and patted you on the head. He flipped a single gold coin into your shaking hands, it was the most money you had ever seen at the time. When you had turned around to thank him, more than ready to drop onto your knees and praise the dirt he walked on, he was gone. Leaving only a lone, ink-black feather in his wake.

You can only assume he took pity on you. Some unclaimed, nameless child, too old to be taken in by an orphanage but too young to be sent off to the mines. In a village so small and far North it didn’t even have a name. The old crones of your small village would wax poetic about his benevolence and graciousness (only after they prattled on about his villainously handsome face). You couldn't even read, let alone weave illusions from incantations or summon a beast from a bubbling brew.

But he appeared before you nonetheless, with a flurry of his feathered cape. He offered you his hand, that which dripped in gold, and swept you off to Night Raven College. Over the years he taught you everything you know now. He taught you how to paint and juggle, how to fluently read and speak every language used on the continent, even some more eccentric practices like how to identify cursed objects, how to weave certain sprigs of herbs together to create the most powerful warding charm, even which nerve to pinch to have any assailant drop unconscious instantly.

While under the roof of Night Raven College, you met creatures from every walk of life. One could say you were popular, even. Everyone wanted to get to know the charge of the infamous headmaster Crowley. You grew close to many, some you would even call your friends. Some others, maybe more. But they led very different lives than you. Friendships fade, it's simply a way of life. Even if waving goodbye to them as they graduated and left you behind stung in a way you don't really wish to name.

You stayed at the college longer than most. Not taking classes, simply acting as an errand runner for the headmaster as a way to repay him for guiding you to a much better path in life. But even he, past his grandeur and games, could see that you wished to spread your wings farther than the astronomy tower and botanical garden.

With a final pat on your head, he sent you away to pave your own path. His name and the beautifully detailed dagger on your hip, an ivory crow head for the hilt, as your only weapons. On your own you ventured for more years, gaining wisdom from those you met on the way. You had all but forgotten your old friends from your school days. All until one fateful day.

Sat on the edge of the cliff, you gazed down at the view below you. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vibrant hues. You were in your own world, leaning back on your arms and kicking your feet over the edge of the cliff. Until a shrill meow drew your attention elsewhere. A scruffy grey cat emerged from the undergrowth. Eyes too blue to be a normal feline blinking up at you. A black and white bow tied neatly around his neck. In his mouth was a letter, the envelope only the most ornate of finery. The crest on the wax stamp was that of a noble house.

The cat curled up in your lap as you used your dagger to cut the envelop open. The parchment inside just as luxurious as what housed it. You scanned the words on the page, language so flowery and formal it may as well have been another language of it's own, but you got the message.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Where will you go first, dear adventurer?

Heartslabyul Manor, the home of the ruthlessly strict Grand Duke Riddle Rosehearts and his cronies. They say he bows to nobody but the queen himself.

Savanaclaw tavern, the home base of a ragtag group of mercenaries. Rumor has it their roguish leader, Leona, isn't of this land, and that his reputation is far from good where he’s from.

Octavinelle Gambling Den, a house of luxury and debauchery. The head, Master Azul, is said to be incredibly kind and benevolent. For the small price of your darkest secrets.

Scarabia Merchant's Guild, a travelling guild with gold flooding from every crack in their coffers. The ever-so-kind Master Kalim is said to only be the face of the guild. His servant is who really runs things.

Pomefiore palace, the main residence of the illustrious Queen of the region, Vil Schoenheit. His past is stained red, as is the story of how he managed to sit on the throne. But the people adore him, so what is there to see if not perfection?

Ignihyde tower, the hiding spot of the forsaken Lord Idia Shroud. Head chair of the Magic Council. His brilliance is said to be unparalleled, but people talk... and sources say he hid himself from society after committing a sin to magic itself.

Diasomnia castle, skeptics say that centuries ago, the old castle at the northern border was occupied by Fae royalty. Now it seems there's life in those haunted halls once more, for an air of regality hangs heavy in the fog surrounding the grand castle.

Many a path to choose, and you have all the time in the world. But, even still, do you think it wise to keep them waiting?

I wish you luck,

Choose wisely, my dear adventurer~

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

155 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 2 months ago

Note

What would the firsts post on their Tumblrs blogs? Maybe Cloud and Zack too?

@ user09747363: Sephiroth barely has anything on his blog. His icon is black, he has no header, and his blog title is simply "untitled." He only reblogs, never posts, usually Angeal's nature photography, some of Genesis' poetry, amusing cat videos, social commentaries, and astronomy gifs. There are maybe 20 posts in total. The only original post on there is when boops were happening, but he didn't know he had to turn them on, so he just reblogged a post where Genesis was venting about his personal struggles with "boop"

@ Z4ckt4st1c: Posts every single thought that comes to mind, ranging from his opinions on his lunch to why Christmas trees should be an all-year-round decoration. He shares pics of himself after workouts, snapshots with friends, and his latest purchases. He reblogs memes and funny pictures, answers every single ask he gets with 1000 emojis, and is a serial over-sharer. He often sends Angeal asks of the recipes he made, to which Angeal usually responds with "WHY IS IT ON FIRE?"

@ Angeal-is-cooking: A popular blog since he makes no attempt to hide his ID from fans. It's a place where he stores his recipes, gardening tips, and photography. He reblogs a ton of self-help posts, motivational quotes, nature pics, plant photos and recipes. He answers asks from fans, interacts with them regularly, offers advice, and reacts to their cooking. He also reblogs a lot of Genesis' controversial posts with the comment "he didn't mean this."

@ Infinite-In-Mystery: (yes, he paid for his URL) Genesis has a curated and intentionally aesthetic Tumblr. He posts his own poetry, writing, thoughts, and opinions that often get PR on his ass. He reblogs poetry, photography, literary analyses, gifs fans make of him, and posts from Red Leather. He is known for getting into reblog chain discussions and drama. Actually, no, he thrives on chain discussions and drama.

@ CloudStrife10: He doesn't post much, preferring reblogs. He reblogs everything from SOLDIER posts to motivational quotes, nature pics, photos others posted of him, stuff from the official Silver Elite fan page, gifs of Sephiroth, and memes.

@ Shinra-tea-time: Kunsel knows he's playing a dangerous game by running a drama blog with insider gossip from HQ. It's risky, sure, but he's confident no one will ever trace it back to him. Every day he gets anonymous asks—and nearly half of them are from Genesis, frantically trying to debunk each rumor.

☕️ shinra-tea-time Follow

Drama Alert! Our sources claim Genesis was spotted at the Skyview Hall café this morning turning up the charm on the new barista. He tried to impress her with poetry and his smooth charm, expecting her to swoon. But plot twist! The barista reportedly shut him down cold, handing him his coffee with a polite "Sorry, I don't date SOLDIERs." OUCH!

🔥 Infinite-In-Mystery reblogged shinra-tea-time This is an absolutely preposterous claim against my person, and it never happened. I demand to know your source.

☕️ shinra-tea-time reblogged Infinite-In-Mystery

@ user09747363.

🔥 Infinite-In-Mystery reblogged shinra-tea-time ASDFGHJKL

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #zack fair #angeal hewley #cloud strife #final fantasy vii #crisis core #headcanons

80 notes · View notes

ilovecatfr · 2 months ago

Text

Hogwarts shifting motivation

Common rooms Motivation

Genuinely informative~ even teachers need permission to get into the common room (unless they are the head of the house)

Slytherin

Slytherin common rooms are a good place for curious aquatic animals& creatures

{Example: mermaids coming to tap on class}

Imagine the afternoon light that gonna come through the water and how it gonna look

It the biggest common room

Being closest to potions class

There’s a hidden window that looks out into the depths of the Black Lake, allowing students to watch Grindylows and the Giant Squid pass by. Sometimes, an eerie glow from underwater plants illuminates the room at night.

The Serpent’s Whisper: If you listen carefully near the fireplace, you can hear a hissing sound—a remnant of an old Parseltongue spell cast by Salazar Slytherin himself. Some say it whispers advice to ambitious students

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Elegant and mysterious, with emerald-green lamps casting an eerie, calming glow. The room has a cold, sleek beauty, with high-backed leather chairs, silver accents, and tapestries depicting famous Slytherins and legendary beasts.

Furnishings: Green velvet armchairs and polished silver tables are arranged around a central fireplace carved with serpentine details. There are also large glass cases displaying rare magical objects collected by past Slytherin alumni.

Motivational Vibe: The Slytherin common room feels like a home for the ambitious and resourceful. It inspires cleverness, self-confidence, and power—a place for those unafraid to stand out and make their mark.

Hufflepuff

That common room is closest to kitchen so sneaking in to get snacks

hufflepuffs are known for having good weed (shifters confirmed)

When someone tries to enter the common room and press a wrong barrier they get covered in vinegar / to get in you need to tap barrier in rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff"

A rumor has it that when a room is quiet enough you can hear humming~ a spell Helga Hufflepuff casted centuries ago to bring calmness to her house

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Warm and earthy, with lots of natural light filtering in through circular windows that open up to the Hogwarts grounds. It has a cottage-like charm, filled with lush plants, earthy tones, and the smell of freshly baked bread.

Furnishings: Soft, overstuffed sofas and cushions are scattered around. The tables are made from reclaimed wood, polished to a warm honey glow. Herbology books and gardening tools are kept on hand for anyone interested in plant care.

Motivational Vibe: The Hufflepuff common room is all about kindness, resilience, and loyalty. It’s perfect if you’re looking for a family-like environment where everyone supports each other. You’ll feel nurtured, grounded, and at peace.

Gryffindor

Imagine the fat lady’s joke every time before you enter and even riddles occasionally

Being Dumbledore favourite lmao

The secret door to Astronomy Tower~ There’s a narrow stairwell hidden behind a tapestry of Godric Gryffindor that leads up to the Astronomy Tower. It’s a favorite spot for stargazing on clear nights.

If you press the right spot on lions statue, a roar will fill the common room. Usually used before Quidditch matches and wins.

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Warm, cozy, and golden. Rich, ruby-red carpets cover the stone floors, and tapestries of legendary Gryffindors and courageous battles adorn the walls. A crackling fireplace is almost always lit, making it feel like a comforting, eternal hearth

Furnishings: Armchairs with plush cushions, covered in deep scarlet, are arranged in small clusters, perfect for gathering with friends. A large, golden lion statue stands near the entrance as a symbol of Gryffindor bravery.

Motivational Vibe: Gryffindor common room feels like a constant cheerleader, pushing you to be brave, adventurous, and loyal. It’s filled with energy, perfect for anyone who loves challenges and dreams of leaving a legacy.

Revenclaw

Imagine it being late at night and you are watching the celling as it has the same effects as great hall celling

Imagine seeing owls flying outside your window

Every window view being absolutely beautiful

If you recite a specific incantation, a spiral staircase appears near the bookshelf, leading to a hidden observatory. It’s the best spot in Hogwarts to view meteor showers or auroras. They call it the staircase of stars.

Rumor has it that a spellbook hidden centuries ago is still somewhere within the common room’s library shelves. Legend says only the wisest Ravenclaw can uncover its secrets.

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Elegant and airy, with tall, arched windows that give a panoramic view of the mountains and lake. The room is decorated in hues of silver, blue, and soft ivory, with a ceiling enchanted to resemble the night sky.

Furnishings: Sleek, polished wood tables for studying, with quills and inkpots always available. Softly glowing blue and white lamps cast an ethereal light over the room, making it feel like a dreamy nightscape.

Motivational Vibe: Ravenclaw common room is a heaven for those who love to think, dream, and explore the mysteries of magic. It’s an inspiring environment for those who strive for wisdom, originality, and creativity.

{these are from my dr and from I found online- so it may not be canon but feel free to script}

72 notes · View notes

ailoda · 1 month ago

Text

updated: 07.01.25

݁₊ ⊹ series

Portrait (❤❅✘): over a series of five sessions, Benedict paints your portrait for your husband-to-be… and a passionate secret love affair develops. (@fayes-fics)

When The World is Free (❤❅✘): it is late summer 1939, when you arrive in Paris from New York to begin a year of adventure. A deal struck with your parents to see a little of the world before settling down and marrying your ‘childhood sweetheart’ Stanley. You soon find yourself with a spirited young English housemate Eloise, enjoying all that the cosmopolitan European city has to offer…. Until a few weeks later when war is declared. In this newly uncertain world, Eloise’s mother dispatches her brother to bring her home. Your plan is to board a ship back to America… but circumstances conspire to leave you possibly trapped in France with no way home. Eloise refuses to leave the country without you, even as you secretly grow attached to her beguiling brother, Benedict, who is everything Stanley is not. There appears to be only one solution to your dilemma to ensure safe passage out of the country as invasion seems imminent… but it will mean your life is forever changed, even when the world is free again. - modern!au (@fayes-fics)

Over the Garden Wall (❤❅✘): the youngest daughter of Queen Charlotte and King George, plagued by the same illness as her father, grows tired of her lonely and isolated existence. When escaping the prison-like castle she has been sequestered in for her entire life, she meets a young man who shares her love for painting and whom she can not stop thinking about. Secrets, betrayal, and love all fight against one another. Which one will win? (@homeofthepeculiar)

Love in Bloom (❤❅✘): you and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue. (@bosbas)

Garden of Secrets (❤❅✘): life is the flower for which love is the honey.(@dreamwritesimagines)

Wildest Dreams (✘): your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked. (@peachpitfics)

Loml (❅✘): you have been married six months, and it is fresh hell trying to conceive an heir with somebody you are repulsed by. Luckily, your old friend is willing to help you get through it while your husband is out of town. (part two) (warning: infidelity/adultery, themes allude to SA) Endgame (❤✘): six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago. (part three)

new! They're Not The Only Ones (❤❅): 4 times you and Benedict judge others for their obliviousness, and 1 time they all judge you. (@maximoff-pan)

new! Unwritten (❤❅): writer and pen pal of Eloise Bridgerton, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had no plans to come out in society. Her family could hardly afford it after all. And she doesn’t need to marry, not when she can support herself and her family with her writing. But ever the hopeless romantic, (Y/N) embraces London society with hopes of finding inspiration for a new story. Only to find herself the subject of a love story right out of one of her favorite romance novels. (@peterpparkrr)

new! Of Second Sons and First Loves (❤): you meet Benedict at a ball and it’s love at first sight for both of you. (@starryeyedstories)

new! Now and Then (❤❅): Loraine Silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older. (@mschievousx)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict x you #benedict x y/n #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x oc #benedict bridgerton x sophie #benedict bridgerton fic recs #benedict x sophie #benedict bridgerton x sophie beckett #ailoda's recs #bridgerton #bridgerton series #bridgerton fic recs #benedict bridgerton series

118 notes · View notes

selineram3421 · 1 year ago

Text

*lies awake at night and has an idea*

[Its 4 a.m. by the way.]

Other Worldly

Prologue

Alastor X Shy Reader

(Oneshot turned short story)

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ selectively mute reader, mentions of death-drowning, shaking head = no, signing-ASL ⚠

They were an oddity.

How could such a meek and bashful thing like them end up in this fiery inferno.

Alastor watched from the bar as they bumped into the check-in counter and squeaked before getting off balance and falling.

Clumsy, jumpy, barely making a sound other than some odd squeaks.

Yes, they were quite the wonder.

An entertaining one.

❇

You were somewhat new to Hell. At least two weeks in.

There was an accident where you worked in the aquarium and well..you kinda caused a mass drowning? It sounds impossible but it happened.

It was very challenging to get up after your fall, but you managed and wound up at the hotel.

With the help of the Princess, you were able to figure out what kind of demon you are. It came with pros but it also came with cons. One con being that you couldn't speak unless you wanted to hypnotize someone.

It made you a little sad, but also relieved. You didn't do well around others, too shy to speak up or get involved with anything that put you in the spotlight.

Maybe it was for the best.

There would be one thing you wouldn't give up though.

❇

Alastor was in the hotel's library.

There wasn't a whole lot of demons coming into this room, especially after some guests saw him walk in here a few times.

It didn't matter. At least there were multiple things that could entertain him. A small music room with instruments, projectors in another with film reels and other types of tapes, and the most dazzling room of all was the astronomy room.

The Princess made sure to have this room's dome ceiling painted with an accurate mural of the Earth's night sky.

Deciding to mess with the trinkets on the shelves, the demon in red walked towards the back of the room and glanced at the star charts. Tapping at some of the books and measuring tools on the desk nearby before sitting down on a chair.

No one ventured this far into the library. He was probably the only demon who knew of this room's existence.

And then he heard something.

Someone had entered the room.

Turning around and looking between the shelves, Alastor spots the timid demon that he enjoys flustering so much near the armillary sphere in the middle.

A little spook wouldn't be too bad.

He thought with a small grin, starting to summon up a shadow creature. However both dissipated when there was a note sung into the air.

"Let's go in the garden

You'll find something waiting

Right there where you left it lying upside down

When you finally find it, you'll see how its faded

The underside is lighter when you turn it around "

The Radio Demon sat there, mouth agape as they sang.

"Everything stays right where you left it

Everything stays

But it still changes

Ever so slightly, daily and nightly

In little ways, when everything stays "

Like a siren- a water sprite? A nymph? It was hard to pinpoint what he could compare their voice to.

It was other worldly.

Their voice echoed due to the room's acoustics.

He didn't notice that he had gotten out of the chair, didn't notice he was making his way towards them, didn't notice when they stopped singing until they gasped.

Blinking out of his trance, he found them facing him and covering their mouth with their hands. A panicked look in their eyes.

"You stopped.", Alastor spoke up. "Why not finish?"

They shook their head quickly and backed away.

Before he could say something else, they moved their arms down, one made into a fist on their chest and moving in a circle clockwise. Then they ran out. (Sorry)

He stood there for a while, his smile widening. Maybe there was more to them than he thought.

How interesting~

I'm still on break but I couldn't help myself with this one. 🐚 (Old note)

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Alastor ML I🎙 | ChL OW🦀

506 notes · View notes

crossingthedreams · 3 months ago

Text

falling stars — javier peña x f!reader

masterlist | day 18 (@angstober) — falling stars

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, trauma, car-bomb, break-ups, no use of y/n, not proofread.

“You see, the whole shooting star concept has nothing to do with an actual star”, your monologue about astronomy began several minutes ago, and Javier was listening patiently, with a small smile on his face, “It’s a misconception. A falling star is actually just dust or rocks falling into the Earth’s atmosphere and burning up”.

“So you could say they’re all… dust in the wind?”, Javi's eyes widened with his joke as he smiled and you laughed.

“Wow, you really are witty. Congratulations for all this brain power, Javier Peña”, you mocked him, one hand coming up close to his face and making a circular motion. He chuckled, and looked back up to the night sky.

This was your second date with the DEA agent living in Medellín. You had been reallocated to the United States Consular Office in Medellín after sometime in Austria and, afterwards, East Timor. Being a career diplomat in the lowest rankings, you had less attributions than the Ambassador. But in Medellín, there were no safe positions in politics, diplomacy or law enforcement, regardless of ranking.

You didn’t feel safe, but you didn’t deal directly with drug lords like the DEA folks did. It was easier for you to go about your day, and focus on communism other than drug trafficking.

As the only other woman in the Diplomatic Mission in Colombia, you were used to dealing with self-important pathetic jerks. One day, though, you were so pissed off you were stomping through the hallways when you bumped into a tall brown-eyed man with a gorgeous suit, which made you drop your coffee, and when he began to apologize you just yelled at him with some profanity in German.

Your time in Austria really paid off.

The man next to him, a cute blond guy, was open-mouthed staring at you. When you realized you were being the jerk now, you apologized and introduced yourself.

“I’m not used to this place just yet, it’s quite different from the other Consulates I’ve been”, you tried to explain yourself without accidentally cursing high-ranking officers who could make your life hell. Maybe tossing your hair and blinking your eyes would make that man, whoever he was, let you get away with being an ass to him before 10a.m..

The shy flirting always worked, as the man had no reaction other than to smile at you. He introduced himself as Javier Peña, from the DEA, and asked what you were doing after work that night.

The rest was history, and that’s how you ended up strolling through the gardens of the nice Hotel you were staying as the touch-ups your place needed were being finalized. You were pondering inviting Javi up when you saw a shooting star, and, thus, the astronomy monologue.

Strolling in silence for a little while, the two of you didn’t meet one another’s gaze. It was a typical end-of-date dance, and the ball was in your hands as you both approached the entry of the hotel.

You stopped and turned to look at him better. He was such a beautiful man, and yet, he was all alone. What must it be like to grow up this beautiful?, you thought. You had to fight the urge to pass your fingers through his hair, which seemed softer than cotton.

The words “do you want to come up?” were practically coming out of your mouth already when a loud sound came from the streets.

Javi’s body was shielding yours before you could even realize what was going on. From the corner of your eye, you saw fire. There were screams coming from the outside too, and a part of you had to contain yourself from walking towards the chaos and try to help out somehow.

Your hands were protecting your head, and Javi was protecting you. The both of you squatted down and waited as the sounds died down a bit.

From the looks of it, and from your experience in these situations, a car had blown up.

“Are you okay?”, Javi half-yelled, his hands cupping your face and scanning for any bruises. You nodded yes as he lifted you to your feet. His hands moved from your face to your hips, and he guided you inside with care.

Even amidst this terrible scenario, he made your heart flutter.

Javi mumbled something about being right back and for you to stay put, and went to the reception to borrow their phone. Probably calling his office or his partner. You turned to watch the streets, and your suspicions confirmed themselves: a car blown up, still in flames, in the middle of the street.

No one seemed to be hurt badly, at least there was that. You look around the lobby to try and find someone you could help, something you could do, but you were much too stunned still.

That couldn’t have been for you, could it?

As your eyes wander the venue, the realization this might very well be some sort of warning for Javi hit you like a wall of bricks. The man who held your hand and laughed earlier today at the hotel’s restaurant was also a DEA agent working to catch some really bad guys. Your job was talking and writing legal documents, whilst his was on the field, with a gun, actually chasing drug lords and their minions.

What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

You watched Javi walk back towards you, hands on his hips. He was so handsome, and you wanted him in a way that would make even the devil himself blush. But you couldn’t have him, could you? Not like this, with men who put bombs in cars lurking in every corner.

When Javi was close enough to hear you, you opened your mouth to speak, and he motioned to a quieter corner. Without saying anything, you accompanied him and watched him as he sat and let his head fall to his hands.

He let out a deep sigh, not meeting your gaze, and pulled a pack of Marlboro from his pocket.

“Our being here is much like those falling stars of yours, y’know”, he looked defeated as he lit his cigarette. “We’re small rocks, dust, falling in this strange environment and burning ourselves up, and everything near, in the process”.

The smoke he let out made twirls in the air before disappearing, in quite a mesmerizing manner.

You did want to see him more, but what future was there between the two of you?

You didn’t want to be at his funeral anytime soon, and Javi was driving himself into an early grave. You were sure he knew this, and you had your suspicions he only took you out because he wanted to fuck and thought you’d be casual, and comfortable with his lifestyle. You were fine with being a hookup, but it wasn’t okay to spend a Friday night wondering if he didn’t call, not because there might be some other girl in the picture, but because he was dead.

You wouldn’t deal with this again. Life had already taken too much from you too soon.

There was a part of you that didn’t want to let Javi go home alone tonight. Not because of the sex — you weren’t in the mood, and most likely, neither was he — but because he might need a friend.

“You should maybe hang out with Steve”, you suggested, trying to play the dismissal as care. Because you did care.

His brown eyes looked up at you, cigarette still burning between his fingers. His eyes gazed down and he let out a small and sad smile.

He stood up and kissed you on the cheek, the smell of smoke and of Javi intoxicated you. “I had fun”, he mentioned, one hand holding your arm. He squeezed once before letting go. “Stay in touch, okay?”.

You didn’t find the strength in you to reply. Instead, you watched him walk away, into the busy street. You thought he’d go straight home, but no. He went to the policeman who was around the burnt car.

Men like Javi, like your father… They had this need to act at all times. Never prioritizing themselves or their loved ones, always with the big picture in mind, hurting all the individuals to protect the vast majority. Being a new version of your mother, going through sleepless nights worrying as she did, that would never work for you.

You turned around, and went to your room. Javier stayed, and helped out the police. Simple as that, and yet, somehow, it was more complicated than ever for you.

_________________________________________________________

a/n: i’m posting day 18 on day 22 because not only was i terribly sick, i also ran out of ideas, lol. so, if you happen to have any ideas for the prompts of this angstober, i’d love to hear them, on dm or ask. this IS a cry for help, because i want to write more, i just dunno where to start.

83 notes · View notes

stillaclownlol · 5 months ago

Text

Im BACK :) (nobody noticed I left LMAO) with HEADCANONS

For...nailpolish...

Ashlyn: She keeps her nails really short and blunt because The Autism and she actually hates when people touch her nails. Taylor beggggggggggeeeeeed to let her paint them tho and eventually she relented. Prefers darker colors, and she only keeps them on for the first day/night, the second they start peeling she cleans them off cuz the texture bothers her

Taylor: LOOOOOVES nail polish :))) she always buys cheap brands from like Claires tho so her nail polish is usually flaking. She likes all colors but she gravitates more towards brighter colors and glitter polish. She really likes stickers and patterns too. She wishes she had the time to experiment with long nails and gems and stuff like that but she doesn't have the money and they would interfere with her mechanics class, so she usually she keeps em short.

Tyler: short and neat, doesn't want to bend a nail or smth during baseball. He doesn't really loooooove painting his nails, but if Taylor asks him he'll let her practice on him, and secretly he likes matching with her <3

Ben: he's actually interested in it but he was worried a long time that people would make fun of them. His nails are usually long cuz he forgets to cut them and kinda dirty because he's constantly got pencil lead under them. Eventually Tay convinced him to try, but his fingers are really big so he was having a hard time doing it, so she did it for him (benlor shippers get your food). Mostly likes pastels :)

Logan: his nails are short because it bugs him when he gets dirt under them while gardening. Not really smth he thinks about but he won't say no if Tay offers. He likes astronomy related stickers tho (like stars and planets) and glitter polish

Aiden: he has gross hands sorry guys. Constantly covered/has under his nails marker, pencil, dirt, dead skin- just. Yuck. If Tay wants to paint his nails they gotta do a whole routine. he bites his fingers sometimes so they're all different lengths. sometimes he just bites the nail off so the ends are either jagged or really long cuz he always forgets to cut them. He bends and breaks them a lot while doing sports too. He likes coloring them with a Sharpie in class while he's bored, but if Tay does them he prefers bold colors and glitter, and ofc lots of stickers. When he paints them himself ofc the color gets all over his fingers smh...he bought long nails just for fun but he wouldn't wear them seriously since they kinda get in the way of stuff he likes doing.

#sbg #school bus graveyard #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard webtoon #aiden clark #ashlyn banner #taylor hernández #tyler hernández #ben clark #logan fields #sbg headcanons #headcanons

76 notes · View notes

thalialunacy · 4 months ago

Text

(back to rec index) (pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4) (pt 5)

keywords: Gay, Loving, Boyfriends by lookupkate

Kintsukuori by sussexbound

Knotted by naughtyspirit

L'amour Toujours by stopthat

Lacuna by coloredink

Laid Bare by esplanade

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b

Learning Curve by thpontiacbandit

Leave the Signs and the Sirens by out_there

Lessons in Astronomy by CaitlinFairchild

Let You Kiss Me (So Sweet and So Soft) by out_there

Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by Anonymous

A Life Well-Lived by TakePenAndInk

Like Glue by goseaward

Lines in the Sand by JRow

Lines Written In Kensington Gardens by CaitlinFairchild

the lingering taste of orange juice by darcylindbergh

Live from the Morgue by disfinctional

Love Is by SilentAuror

Love Like Ours by Berty

Luminosity by what_alchemy

The Man With the Cartier Frames by JRow

Matchmaking for Solitary Animals by ArwaMachine

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo

Maybe We Could Change His Mind by thalialunacy

The Measure of a Gentleman by i_ship_an_armada

Measuring Damage With the Fujita Scale by teahigh

The Meeting Place by standbygo

Messy by pukajen

Midnight Clear by khorazir

Mightier Than by emmagrant01

Minds Like Ours Dream Up by BlackEyedGirl

Miscommunication by SrebrnaFH

The Moment Pleasantly Frightful by teahigh

moon earth sun by orphicsun

The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love by CorvidCordelia

most people start with 'i love you' by queerholmcs

Mountebank by Odamaki

Move in by Strange_johnlock

MR# 1430155 by blueink3

My Fingers Drip With Myrrh by songlin

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs

Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles

Never Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords

Nocturn by Atiki

The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst

Not Always 1895 by esplanade

Notes by Kryptaria

Nothing Else Matters by achray

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01

Oblivion by AlgySwinburne

Obsession, Appassionato by shinychimera & Yeomanrand

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar

Of Course I Forgive You by allonsys_girl

Of Small and Unexpected Things by wearitcounts

Of Velvet and Silk, Cotton and Cashmere by cwb

The Old Familiar Sting by songlin

On a Sunday Morning by SD_Ryan

On the Losing Side by missselene

On Pins And Needles by 7PercentSolution & J_Baillier

Once is Enough by Jominerva

Once More, With Feeling by cellardoors

One Good Scare by blueink3

The One Where No One Proposes by MissDavis

The One With the Proposal by kim47

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3

Onomatopoeia by aquabelacqua

The Oolong Disaster by unicornpoe

(pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4) (pt 5) (back to rec index)

#BBC Sherlock #fic recs #Johnlock

67 notes · View notes

wonderlandwalker · 1 year ago

Text

Gentoo Penguins | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: At the anniversary of a bad memory of yours, James can't quite figure out yet why you're avoiding him. But he doesn't give up easily.

Content Warnings/Tags: Angsty with a fluff ending (like everything I write), reader is Sirius' sister but it's not very obvious, crying, mentions of nudity, stubborn James, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This one I had been working on for the past few days but finally found the right mindset to finish it! Send me a request if you think of something I can write <3

It was Friday, and you hadn’t seen each other the whole week. This was caused by him having classes all week at the other side of the castle, and you just starting a new course because of which you barely had any free time.

He waited outside the classroom for your class to end. When you finally stepped out, he wouldn’t have recognized you if it wasn’t for the fact that he had your face memorized to the smallest detail by now. You looked like you had barely slept the entire week. You also looked like she had been dragged through the gardens in the courtyard.

“What the bloody hell happened to you, eh?” He asked you, and you turned your head after hearing his voice.

“Nice to see you too.” You sarcastically muttered back to him.

“Alright, I’m sorry okay? How’s your week been?” He sais, while catching up with you walking down the corridor.

“Been better, what are you doing here James?” You asked, still not looking at him.

This caught him off guard a little, not expecting you to question spending time together.

“Catching up with you, love, thought we could go do something together” He said back, while shrugging his shoulders a little. Maybe you really weren’t in the mood to spend time with him, or anyone for that matter. You turned your head towards him, and he could almost see the tension dripping from your face, your muscles strained but your eyes weak.

“I’m sorry James, but I’m really not in the mood for anything” You told him, your voice sounding choked up.

“Well, then let’s just do nothing?” He suggested. You clearly didn’t wanna argue, and instead continued walking towards your dorm, so he followed you.

You reached your dorm and walked inside, leaving the door open for him to follow after, at least that was a good sign, he thought. Lily was there too, along with Marlene.

“I’m gonna take a shower” you muttered, walking into the bathroom.

Once you were inside, he walked over to Lily, thinking she might know what was going on.

“What’s up with her?” he asked.

She looked at him like he was growing a second head and simply called him an idiot, not telling him anything else before walking out of the room, probably on her way to the library. He looked over at Marlene, and she just rolled her eyes at him shortly, before going back to the book she was reading. So he decided to take a seat on your bed until you came back.

Not long after, you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around your body and drying your hair with another one. You walked over to your wardrobe and picked something to wear. He was still watching you when you dropped the towel to get dressed. At the sudden reveal of your figure, James quickly realized he should look away, so he looked over to Marlene, who looked amused at the blush that was crawling up him. You finished getting dressed and walked over to the door, walking out while calling after yourself:

“Are you coming or not?”

Your change in demeanor startled him a little, but he quickly followed you.

“I thought we could go feed the plimpys by the lake.” He suggested once he caught up, but you didn’t seem appealed by the answer.

“I know, let’s go to the astronomy tower, it will be good, come on.” He said, tugging you forward a little.

You reached the top and settled down next to him, your knees pulled up to your chest, arms hugging your legs and your head resting on his shoulder.

He had always loved it when you played and fooled around, but he loved these moments most of all. When it was just the two of you, and you seemed so in your element when you leaned against him. The smell of your citrus shampoo lingering in the air.

You were staring at the sky and he swore, he could have looked at you forever if you let him. But after a while, he looked up to the sky with you, and let his own head lean on top of yours.

He remembered all the other times you had come up here. It was usually at the end of each year, the both of you relaxing at the thought of a warm summer to come. Sometimes you would come up here when one of you was stressing out too much, and the other lugged them along. You would be up here for hours, it usually already being deep in the night when you went back down. When he was stressed out, and you dragged him up here, he would get lost in your eyes, the way the moonlight reflected in them, it always calmed him down, and he would always be so grateful.

It wasn't until he heard you sniffle softly, your body starting to shake lightly, that he tore himself from his thought. He looked over at you, and you had closed your eyes. He tilted your chin up towards him and you opened your eyes, still avoiding his gaze. Your eyes looked glossy and dull, and it bothered him that he didn't know the reason you were crying, that he didn't know how to help.

“Hey, darling, look at me. Please.”

You finally looked at him but it broke his heart a little. Both rage and calmness came over him at the same time. He wanted to punch whatever had caused her this sadness, but he also wanted to comfort you, make you feel better and make you forget the reason you were even sad to begin with.

You parted your lips to start talking, but nothing came out. Wanting to give you the time you needed, he gently let your head fall back on his shoulder and took your hand in his, placing soft kisses against it in an attempt to calm you down.

After a few minutes, you started talking.

“It’s been exactly a year now.” was all you said, before closing your eyes again. And when he thought back, he started to remember the moment you were talking about. Last April, you had made plans one weekend to go to Hogsmeade, and when he went to pick you up from your dorm, he had already heard the cries before the door was even open. He knocked on it and heard Marlene telling him to go away, I knocked again and told her it was me, hoping she’d let me in so I could see what was wrong. Marlene probably knew it was a hopeless cause to get him to leave, so she told him to come in.

You were lying with your head on Marlene’s lap, crying your eyes out while she was stroking your hair. He had no idea what to do, he had never seen you this upset before. He tried to comfort you, but you didn't react to him. After a little bickering, Marlene convinced him to go away, that she could handle it, and that you didn't want to talk to anyone anyway.

After that night you had avoided him for almost a month, and when he finally managed to see you again, it seemed like part of you was still broken. He tried to ask her a few times what was wrong, but each time he did your eyes teared up and you simply told him you didn't want to talk about it. he tried asking Marlene too, but she kept telling him you would tell him when you were ready. He stopped asking after a while, not liking the way your usual smile broke down when he brought it up.

“It was right in the middle of the great hall, everyone was looking at me. I thought they would at least have had the grace to send me a normal letter, not a howler.” You started to choke up as you were talking, and it took all of his willpower to let you continue, having the urge to pull you into him and console you. But he let you continue.

“They disowned me right in front of the whole school, everyone heard it happen, it was so horrible.” You told me while you started to cry, clinging to him more and more. “It’s not like I was ever close to them, but it still hurt.”

He remembers when you told him childhood stories from your time in the Black household. It left you with trauma, but it was still family. You would recollect the small victories and tell him about them each time. And each time he would cheer for you, be happy for you, even though he was dying to make you see you deserved so much more.

“Sirius was still there of course, but I couldn't talk to Regulus anymore, he avoided me for so long. I think he was just scared as well, but it still hurt.” It was quiet for a while, but he could feel that you weren't done talking, so he waited for you to continue.

“The last time I had talked to him we got into an argument. He was upset that I was spending so much time with Sirius and with you guys, he said it would only lead to trouble. I guess he was right.”

“Hey, look at me, yeah?” James couldn't take it anymore.

“Do you remember when my mum got a bad case of dragon pox? I didn't want to talk to anyone, I shut everyone out, but you helped me through it.” He can see your eyes again through all the tears, and it prompts him to continue. “You brought me slushies in the middle of the night when I refused to leave the dorm, Merlin only knows where you even got them. You made me laugh when your tongue turned blue, it had been the first time I laughed all week.” You’re smiling now as well, and he swears his grin is gonna make his cheeks hurt.

“You were there for me, even when I told you I wanted to be alone, you saw right through me. And I will be there for you, I will always be here for you, whenever or wherever you need me.” Your tears have stopped now and there is a sense of bliss that covers you. So James continues

“Do you remember, a couple of years ago, you got this obsession with penguins? You told me all about them. You told me about when they were first discovered, and the scientists named them ‘strange geese’. You told me a group of penguins is called a raft. You told me this one extinct species would grow up to 1,5 meters tall, now that one I didn't believe at first. But the one I remember most is the Gentoo penguin. You told me about how they are one of the few penguin species that mate for life, even when they lose each other for a while, they always find their way back in the moments that matter.”

He tilted your chin up to meet his gaze while he spoke. “Be my Gentoo penguin.”

328 notes · View notes