#but since I did it I thought I’d post anyway

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

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[greyeyedmonster-18]

Five Times Sirius Black Fucked James Potter and One Time He Didn't

(so @arliedraws posted something along the lines of "Five Time Sirius Fucked Someone in James Potters Life for Revenge and One Time He Didn't" as part of her slytherin sirius AU etc like a million years ago. and i uh...misread that upon first read and ran with it anyway. so here's a little fic no body asked for that seemed appropriate to post on @impishtubist day of birth.

if you've been here for a bit, you may recall when i would post little dribbles as "series", so here is...part 1/5.

please enjoy xoxo)

--

James Potter’s entire body was burning from the inside out. Despite the fact he had just been naked and in several compromising positions moments before, he was now hurrying to dress himself, all too aware of the cool air brushing against his exposed ankles.

Socks. SOCKS. Where in the world did his socks end up?

He grabbed his trousers from the heap on the floor of the Quidditch changing room and tucked in his white uniform shirt. Perhaps too hastily, realizing it was caught beneath the waistband of his briefs, but he could worry about that later. And the wrong buttons on his shirt. And his socks.

It felt obscene, shoving his bare feet into his oxfords.

“I have an extra pair of socks.”

“It’s fine,” James said quickly, running a hand over his hair, debating whether or not to choke himself with his tie.

“You’ll stink up your shoes.”

“It’s f—”

“Stop being a prat, Potter, and just take the bloody socks.” James felt something bounce off the back of his head, and he finally turned around, face hot. Entirely bothered. And Sirius Black, Slytherin Prefect was smirking. Looking all too comfortable leaning against the wall of the changing rooms—the Gryffindor changing rooms, a place he shouldn’t have even been in the first place, but there he was—dark curls falling effortlessly over his cheekbone. Robes folded neatly into the crook of his arm. The pair of socks that he had just thrown on the floor to the left of James’s feet.

“I’ll bring you a pair tomorrow…” James mumbled, sitting down on the bench between the lockers, and taking his feet out of his loafers. Pointedly avoiding eye contact and looking at Black at all.

“Keep them.”

“I don’t want to owe you.”

“Owe me?” he scoffed, “I’d rather have something—”

“No.” James cut him off, pulling up one of Black’s grey socks so far and hard it came up to nearly his knee. The threads tugging at one another between the seams of the cuff. Two neat green stripes on the top, the only tell tale sign that they had been borrowed at all. James could hear Sirius push off the wall, practically hear the eyeroll, watching, waiting for him to come closer. And he did. Expensive, bloody posh, black polished shoes appearing in James carefully averted eyeline. The floor had been such a safe place to look. James steeled himself.

Black always had the unique ability to get the best of him.

Or the worst.

Since first year. When Sirius was sorted into Slytherin and James swore, to this day, he made eye contact with the haughty boy in the Great Hall and something ignited inside of him. An unspoken rivalry with no clear starting point, for either of them.

It was almost instinctual. The desire to get one up on Sirius Black.

Sirius performed well in Transfiguration and James made sure to earn points in Charms.

Sirius was made prefect their fifth year, and suddenly James’s biggest dream was to become Quidditch Captain just to have some kind of badge to show off.

Sirius had more OWL’s than James.

James was better at Quidditch.

Now in their seventh year, James was Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, finally feeling victorious, only to discover that having more badges didn’t quiet the flames as much as he hoped they would.

And one ups turned into meet ups, turned into…

“And here, I thought you had a good time. Did I get that wrong, Potter?”

“I have a girlfriend,” James hissed, though he knew Lily was back up at the castle with everyone else. Celebrating Gryffindors win, no doubt. Where James was supposed to be, with his teammates and his friends, and his girlfriend that he definitely had, before he was rudely interrupted by Black. Stupid Sirius Black and his stupid cheeky smile.

He hated that Black waltzed around Hogwarts like he owned it. Hated that Black stepped foot into Gryffindor territory without a second thought.

Wanted to say congratulations is all, Potter.

He hated his tone.

But Merlin, did James like the way Sirius said congratulations.

“Oh, I see,” Sirius nodded in mock understanding. “Now you have a girlfriend.”

“I mean, I did…before to, I’m just…” James exhaled and stood up.

That was better. Though Black was still taller. And they were so standing so close to one another, James could make out the beauty mark beneath Sirius’s left eye, and the small scar on the top of his forehead, just before his hairline started.

“This was the last time.”

“Alright,” Sirius shrugged casually.

“I mean it.”

“It would mean more if I had not heard it before…”

“That was different,” James said, “That was…” But he couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to stop Black from smirking further. It wasn’t different. Not at all, but Black didn’t have to be so damn smug about it.

“Mhmm. Alright,” Sirius repeated, with his stupid smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. Sirius shifted, hands moving to James’s tie, deft fingers undoing the poorly done knot and retying it carefully. “Just, you know, if I had known it was going to be the last time, really, actually the last time, I would have stepped it up a notch for a proper send-off.”

“Stop talking.” James swallowed, trying to stop his chest from rising and falling so rapidly. Trying to stop for repeating history and going back on his statement all too soon.

Because the last time had to come eventually.

Sirius laughed shortly, aligning James’s tie under his collar and straightening it out. “Enjoy your victory party, Potter.” One of Sirius’s hands cupped James’s jawline, his thumb brushing over James’s bottom lip, wiping away any remnants that they had once kissed.

Touched.

Dissolved into one another.

“Let me know if your girlfriend needs some pointers. I’m happy to—”

“She doesn’t,” James responded, indignantly, cocking his chin upward.

“Alright,” Sirius said with a wink, his shoe making the tiniest squeak on the floor as he turned on his heel, “See you next time.” And Sirius walked out of the changing rooms, leaving James with his heart pounding in his chest.

go to part two

[majoryeager104]

Crush! Part 1 | Part 2

the x reader I mentioned at the end of this post!

I’m sorry this is so late Ik I said I’d write it same day and I DID but couldn’t finish it bc I was wracking my brain last second and my phone still has a screen time limit 💀💀💀 so then I was gonna finish and drop it last night, but then my dad went on a FOUR HOUR TANGENT ABOUT HISTORY. 😀😀😀 so once again I’m so sorry but

anywhoooo enjoy!

warnings:, pure fluff

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It was an average day of sulking around the league hideout. Shigaraki, Twice, and Dabi were the ones currently present, and you were off on a job with Toga. Dabi had watched as you left, and decided not to disappear too until you got back. Maybe he was worried, or maybe he was keeping tabs on everyone. Even Shigaraki wasn’t entirely sure.

Anyways, the lot of them were chatting, with Dabi remaining quiet most of the time, at least until you were brought up. “Y/n’s been a great help since joining us!” Twice chirped, and Shigaraki quietly agreed. This caused Dabi to scoff. “Y/n can barely work alone, let alone be useful.” And that was when Twice got to work defending you.

“hey!! Y/n is a very hard worker!- you’re just jealous aren’t you- You know, I bet y/n would have loved to work with you on this mission! She likes you- she despises you SHUT UP”

Twice continued to argue with himself, and the other two went quiet, at least until Shigaraki turned to look at Dabi with a mischievous grin. Dabi bristled, stepping back. “Yeah whatever.” He snapped, turning on his heels and quickly leaving the room.

Maybe he was overreacting, maybe he was merely confused, but unlike everything else this team had thrown at him, he hadn’t expected this. You? Liked him? He scoffed at the thought as he walked down the street. Why was this such a bother to him? Why was he blushing so much? This was stupid. So stupid. You were stupid. Stupid for liking him, stupid for telling twice of all people- at least if you’d come and admit it to him yourself, Dabi could have let you down gently, he’s not a complete monster- but now he felt like he had no options to do so, and he wasn’t sure why.

So as he was walking down the street away from the hideout, and spotted you and Toga walking happily together through the crowds, he felt like he had no other option than to turn on his heels once again and go down the alley to his left, taking a detour because how the hell was he supposed to face you knowing you had feelings? It was embarrassing, and illogical, and the very thought was like a big nuisance pent up in his brain, he couldn’t stand it.

So, he lay low for a while, walking along the streets as it got later and later in the evening. He’d received messages from the league, asking for updates on where he’d gone, hell, he got one from you. Usually he appreciated your check ins- you were always so kind to him even over text- but now, your kind words felt nothing but heavy.

But wait.

he could use this, couldn’t he?

I know I mentioned he ‘wasn’t a complete monster’ earlier, and he’s not….but he is a bit of a menace. he could leverage your feelings, use that affection to achieve a few goals of his. Maybe it was terrible, sure, but it was the only way he knew of to push away the weird feelings he got just thinking about the idea of you liking him. It was becoming nauseating.

So, he walked back to the hideout, opening the door to the usual loud chatter of the group. Now he was noticing the way your head spun around to see him first, the way your eyes lit up and you smiled. Oh god, this was gonna be harder than he thought. But he straightened his jacket, and smirked in return, because it was worth a try, right?

and so you approached him, hoping for some small talk, which is when he realized that Twice hadn’t mentioned his little slip. Of course. So, he figured the best way to go about this, was to flirt.

Over the next ten minutes, he tried it, and came to understand that this wasn’t the greatest idea either. Between him leaning in way too close, smirking like an idiot to the point he was so embarrassed he resorted to fidgeting, and him seeing your raised brow and utterly confused and unaffected expression, it was clear that he had no chance of winning. It got to a point where you’d ended the conversation and walked away with a puzzled expression while he watched, his playful smirk disappearing, as well as the good mood he’d put himself in. He stared at the floor for another five minutes (real bro) before walking to his room, inevitably giving up.

It wasn’t until later, when you two had a job together, that he realized his ‘ideas’ were just big dumb mistakes. He’d dropped the flirtations and basically pushed the thought of your feelings to the back of his mind, hoping at this point that Twice hadn’t been serious. You got the job done, and he burned the place down. The two of you watched the fire quietly, and as he glanced back at you- to check for injuries if anything, he thought- and found you’d already been looking at him. Your eyes darted away and back to the burning building, a blush creeping across your face. You looked…adorable.

His eyes widened at the thought, but instead of thinking anything of it, he just chuckled at your expression, stepping a bit closer. No flirtations, no confusion, it was just you, and Dabi.

”you know…twice told me something real interesting earlier”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

part 2 coming soon bc I wanted to drop this at a reasonable time and didn’t finish😗😗😗

[outofangband]

Since I changed my blog header, I thought I’d revisit this scene

At the moment I’m thinking about Húrin and Sador’s accounts of their ancestors.

“Were they afraid?” said Túrin

“It may be,” said Sador, “ it may be that they fled from the fear of the Dark, only to find it here before us, and nowhere else to fly but the Sea.”

Note: it does seem that when dark is capitalized, In this sort of circumstance. It refers specifically to the shadow of Morgoth. It is in, especially interesting line for so many reasons, and one of those is because the humans are the children of the Sun. They were born under the light, and yet they fled from the fear of the dark.*

Sador says that much lore of them is forgotten, even their names. This goes back to that motif in the Narn of knowledge being forgotten and there being an omission darkness in that forgetting.

Húrin says more on this to Morgoth. He talks of Morgoth’s attempts to manipulate and intimidate them

“Do you forgot to whom you speak? Such thing you spoke long ago to our fathers, but we escape from your shadow, and now we have knowledge of you, for we have looked on the faces that have seen the light and heard the voices that I’ve spoken with Manwë.”

This is similar to what was said a few chapters ago. “His heart was high with hope, and he had little fear, for the outcome of the battle for did not seem to him that any strength in middle earth could overthrow the Maya and splendor of the Eldar…They have seen the light in the west he said, and in the end darkness must flee from their faces.”

It is also in many ways, the opposite of what Sador had said. They both agree that their ancestors in the east lived under a shadow, and tried to escape that shadow.

Sador doesn’t think they succeeded; I’m reminded of his line about how a man who flies from his fear, may find that he has only taken a shortcut to meet it. This, it seems is what befell their ancestors. They fled from the shadow in the east only to find themselves oppressed by it more than ever and now there is nowhere to go, because further west has been barred from them.

To Húrin, despite the fact that when their ancestors came west, they settled in the lands beneath the fortress of Morgoth, their growing alliance with the elves and their own courage in defiance of that shadow might not mean that they have escaped the shadow completely but they may yet withstand it.

Also I have an upcoming post about this but I’m also thinking, Morwen might not particularly like Sador but there are a lot of similarities in their outlooks, even if the ways they express them are very different. Mentally putting “from high places it is easy to fall low” next to “you aim high but I fear to fall low”.

*Note: I do not have the space or time to go into this right now, but I’m putting a mental note here to talk more later about when dark is capitalized in Tolkien’s work and when it’s not. There is a really fascinating example in the wanderings of Húrin where the word shadow is used twice in somewhat similar circumstances, and one is capitalized, and one is not, and in my opinion, it implies a very different understanding of what’s happening between the two characters in question.

Manthor says that grief has darkened Húrin’s eyes and says “Thou bringest a shadow with thee, Húrin Thalion, in which lesser shadows grow darker.” Húrin says he lived long in the Shadow but did not yield to it but that while grief has robbed him of his light he takes no part in the Shadow (of Morgoth). It’s very notable where ‘shadow’ is capitalized here and where it’s not. Manthor seems to be using a different understanding of shadow than Húrin is. 

Anyways I’ll write more about this later

[perplexingly]

Comic based on the chapter The Field of Cormallen.

[lorephobic]

have i talked before about how crazy it drives me that in old bdubs videos he would super abashedly talk about his love for making things pretty? because. it drives me crazy.

at the beginning of mc4 when everyone was clearing out spawn so it was a lifeless flat plot of land to build on and bdubs took it personally and added grass and foliage once everything was built to make the whole landscape more lively and cohesive. and how hed get made fun of for thinking about little shit like that.

also when he got asked what hed be doing if he wasnt doing mc and he mentioned music (i think) and basically was super embarrassed to be like “i know its not very manly, but im super into artsy fartsy stuff”. as if that is a bad thing.

anyway im getting so emo thinking about how in hermitcraft, everyone knows and admires bdubs skill as a builder and its not ever something thats made fun of anymore. thinking about how bdubs never talks down about his own abilities anymore and instead of feeling weird about being a dude whose into artsy fartsy stuff, hes really embraced his career as a creator of beautiful things.

[doggolol]

(tbhk chapter 108-109 spoilers)

the past two chapters really focused on hananene a whole lot huh lol

a whole lotta blushing from both sides!! (and nene basically confessing her love twice now)

and the bonus chapter art too!

(the way he didnt blush when he first revealed to kou and nene his first interaction with the clock keepers and only now blushed once hananene became canon is soo skdkskds ok I’ll shut up now)

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[broadway-and-books-love]

*stops blaring music/reading/watching TV/doomscrolling for one second*

*the thoughts*

I think I’ll have a breakdown now.

[gregmarriage]

i’m so desperately in need of at least like a tiny piece of independence and getting frustrated when i can’t have it. me moving out is so laughable, bc i wouldn’t be able to cope, and it would be too dangerous, and it’s not like i actually have friends, or a partner i could live with (imao). but also, even if i did, it’s like wow, congrats, you’re my built in carer, and you’re gonna get annoyed with me, real fast <3

[remxedmoon]

HAPPY (kinda late oops) BIRTHDAY MIWA!!!!!!!! ignore the other two LOOK AT HER!!!! IT’S MIRABELLE MSUNDAY!!!!

greyscale versions + my very normal color ramblings below!

ok full disclosure i already had this post drafted before realizing that mira’s birthday was coming up. i kinda debated just posting the mira doodles on their own but!!! i want to talk about my craft/general color headcanons still. and the mira art is part of that!! so be warned. also, this is going to reference my post about my craft headcanons a lot so like. read that if you so desire.

i personally think that mira’s healing craft is some form of creative craft, since the game describes her holding her palms up when she uses it (iirc anyways). this doesn’t really have an effect on anything, but it’s why i decided to color it yellow!

(also i ended up making mira’s scissors craft a lot more orange than i initially planned but that’s ok!!! i think both of her crafts would be pretty Orange. just thought i’d mention that since it’s a bit different from my first post)

i already explained sif’s craft in my last post so now i get to talk about the change god!!!!!! this is like. probably the most out there in terms of my color headcanons? but i have a reason for that. since the change god is, well, a deity, i thought it would be fitting for their design to match the colors of the 3 craft types (red, blue, and yellow)! this was a little hard to work around given that i also try to give my vaugarde designs warmer color palettes, but i think it worked out!

i also gave them a few slightly different palettes, since i think it’ll make sense for the change god’s colors to be variable. they never look the same, so why would their palette look the same? + i’m indecisive and liked all of these palettes lol

sorry for the ramble! i really like talking about character design and i’m not. very succinct. thanks for reading all this (if you did, perfectly fine if you didn’t!), here’s the greyscale versions as promised!!!

[wonderjanga]

batman keeps trying to put trackers on marvel's costume, but none of it actually comes off, and the parts he can put trackers on are all like, magical, so they break the trackers and he's so mad about it

Bruce has tried so many ways to track Marvel it’s honestly driven him mad.

First he tried looking for the man using CCTV cameras only to realize Fawcett doesn’t have any. Oh no, no no no, he got the grainy, haven’t been used since the 80s, security cameras. So he ends up combing through all of these cameras because of how old they are because he can’t use the software he normally uses to quickly find people. He also had to do this all on his own because Barbara was busy, and none of his other kids wanted to help him because they all like Cap. And then, when he finally finds the Captain…

Batman: *staring at the Batcomputer intently*

Marvel: *standing in an alleyway* “Shazam.”

Batman: *doesn’t understand what he said, because the audio is too crappy to decipher, but doesn’t have enough time to register that as the cameras immediately cut off*

Bruce nearly… What did Tim call it? Ah yes, crashed out. Bruce nearly ended up crashing out over this. But whatever, right? There’s always multiple solutions to a single problem.

So, he then tried a more simple solution: trackers. Small tiny little things no bigger than his pinky finger. He stuck one onto Marvel’s shoulders as the Captain was leaving for the day.

Batman: “Captain. I would like to say that you fought wonderfully today.” *puts hand on Marvel’s shoulder and places the tracker*

Marvel: “You think so? Thanks.” *sunny ahh smile*

Bruce in fact did not think so, but he needed an excuse to touch Marvel’s shoulder. Anyways, the tracker didn’t even last an hour before he got a notification that it was broken, or rather fried, by electricity. Honestly, that might as well have been Bruce’s fault. One of the man’s major powers is electricity for Christ’s sake. So after a bit, he went and upgraded the trackers to now be electrical resistant.

Marvel: *walking to the zetas*

Batman: “Captain, you own a tiger, yes?” *starts walking with him*

Marvel: “Ah, yes, why?”

Batman: “Robin’s been asking about getting a tiger.”

Marvel: “Oh really? You wanna know some tips or something?”

Batman: “If you’d be willing to share, I’d appreciate it.”

Marvel: “Oh, okay then!” *proceeds to yap about tigers the whole was to the zetas*

Batman: *sneakily tacks the electric resistant tracker on him*

Bruce learned a lot about tigers that day. He never seen the man so informative and passionate about a subject other than magic. If only he’d put that same passion into his reports. Seriously, who alternates between their left and right arm on a professional report? At least do it on a piece of scratch paper or something. (This is a reference to post I saw a while ago about Marvel and Billy writing reports together. Because of that, half of the report was in super duper fancy shmancy handwriting and the other was in chicken scratch)

But anyways, back to the second tracker. See, it actually did the opposite of what it was designed to do, which was track and be resistant to electricity. It actually ended up shorting out and therefore losing its ability to track. Bruce now realized he underestimated Marvel’s electricity.

Now onto Bruce’s third attempt. He had the tracker enchanted with magic.

Batman: “Marvel, I’d like to talk to you about Junior.”

Marvel: “Sure? Is he in trouble?” *sounds concerned*

Batman: “No. You see, Robin’s been wanting to have a play date with him.”

Marvel: “Oh uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” *sounds hesitant* “I’ll have to ask him about it:”

Batman: “That’s fine.” *pats his shoulder and plants the tracker* “Get back to me when you’ve both come to a decision.”

Funnily enough, Bruce didn’t even get ten feet away before he got a notification that the tracker was destroyed. Billy felt the magic in the tracker and honest to the gods he thought it was a bug and swatted his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Billy’s confused but happy that Batman has been talking to him so much recently.

Eventually, after much trial and error (47 attempts) Bruce finally got a tracker that worked. He watched on the GPS as Marvel dipped into an alleyway and… dipped off of the face of the earth? He stared at it for a solid minute wondering if he should be concerned. It’s not like Marvel knows he’s been trying to track him. He has no idea how upset the man would be so he waited. Five minutes passed of Bruce waiting for the little dot representing Marvel to reappear. He then couldn’t take it anymore and started spamming Cap’s comm and was about to notify the other JL members until he finally picked up.

Batman: “Captain? Captain, are you there?”

Marvel: “Yeah? Yeah I am Mister Batman Sir? Is something wrong?”

Batman: “The GPS on your comm showed that you disappeared off the map for fifteen minutes.”

Marvel: “Oh really? Well I’m sorry for worrying you, Mister Batman Sir. I just went to the Rock of Eternity. That’s probably why I didn’t appear.

Batman: “What is the Rock of Eternity?”

Marvel: “Oh, it’s this rock that’s the cent- OH SHOOT.” *loud crash comes from his end*

Batman: “Is everything alright?”

Marvel: “Yeah- look I’m sorry but Black Adam’s here and he just threw a building at me. See ya, Mister Batman Sir.”

So yeah. After everything he went through only to come up with no results, Bruce is mad. Rolling in his grave even. The worst part is that he doesn’t even technically have the right to be mad, considering the fact that he was going behind one of his colleagues back’s and trying to track them without their consent. Though to be fair, Bruce did it because you can’t just have somebody that powerful running around and unchecked without a recorded weakness. But what makes him even more mad is that just when he was about to get the slightest semblance of information, a villain ruined it. At least he has a name now. The Rock of Eternity. It’s probably a magic thing that he’ll end up asking Zatanna about. He hates magic.

[withleeknow]

october 23rd.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.

He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.

Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.

The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.

Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.

He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.

When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.

When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.

“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.

“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”

“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”

“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”

You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”

“Would it make a difference?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.

Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."

You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.

You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.

When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”

Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”

“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”

“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.

The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 23.10.2024]

[luvjunie]

heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment

— 2:00 AM

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3

Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.

He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.

He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.

It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.

He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.

He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.

He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.

He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.

“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.

You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.

”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.

“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.

You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.

“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.

”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.

“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.

“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.

You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.

“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.

“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.

“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.

“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”

He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”

His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.

“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.

Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.

“Miles?” you questioned gently.

Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.

[zarla-s]

[previous]

This isn’t saying you shouldn’t write bad or sad stories or anything, but from Gaster’s perspective as a character in those stories of course he’d want “happy” endings, haha.

But anyway, I kept telling you guys that when Handplates was over I would tell you. Well... here we are. After seven long years, here we are.

When I started I never thought I’d make it. To be honest, it doesn’t feel real to me at all. My brain still expects to do another page in about two weeks as it always does. I assume it’ll take a while to sink in. There’s a lot to say but this post is already incredibly long (sorry), so it’s probably suited to its own post.

But for all of you out there who read this story, whether you were there from the beginning or just came in now, thank you so much. And for all of you that were inspired by this comic, who created things for it, who blessed me with so many amazing gifts of art and fic and music and dubs and videos and so much more... I don’t know how to thank you enough. I never dreamed that an idle idea could have come this far or had such an impact on my life and so many people, but it did.

I kind of feel at a loss for words... again it’s very surreal. But I will say that Gaster wondering whether the kid is an actual human or not has an unintended level to it since my avatar is a fox but it’s TOO LATE NOW I GUESS lol.

( About how it’s a long, long, long journey that we’ve been on And it’s a long long long story that shall be told And it’s a long long day, and we’ve come a long long way But there’s still a long way to go

It’s a long long long way It’s a long long strong way It’s a long long long way Forward - [x] )

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