#i like drawing him with the line teethies

[silly-ehggy]

Rah.... rrrAHHHH !!!!!!!!! (,, ｀д´,,) freaking spirit that I hate!!!!!

(Reblogs over likes)

[flingmetothemoon]

Racha's cloudy Marward sequel prompt #1

"You are a fascinating, yet strange young pup, Teddy..."

The young, deathly pale female vampire sighs as the young, male wolf playfully strokes and scratches her long, pointed fangs in fascination, desperate to show them off to his mother. Marya thought she was young and naïve for an immortal, and she technically still is at least compared to Dracula, and Tedward might be a grown adult in human years. But in immortal years, he is still a young pup. He still acts like one, spoiled like one, cries like one and easily giddy like one.

What is so special about her fangs? What is it about those things of hers that make this young pup giggle so much about? This, the Countess is still trying to fathom. Vampire fangs is something about herself, and anyone really, she hates about. As a matter of fact, what comes up in her mind when it comes to vampire fangs is her darkest moments of her life, particularly the abundance of excruciating pain she receives from Dracula piercing his fangs into her skin and draining her blood until she dies in order to make her become one of his kind for whatever vile intentions he had for her.

Nonetheless, the young wolf seems to derive childlike joy in admiring this unique part of her and she sees no meaningful point in stopping him from doing so. She decides her only choice in how to handle the matter is to entertain the easily amused pup.

"Those Dracula fangs are so fucking amazing~! I don't know why all those fucking cowards reject you over these little teethies... THEY'RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE!!!"

As Teddy cackles his ass off and carefreely thrusts his fingers up Marya's mouth, he can feel her attempting to nibble on his hand.

As the Countess glances down on Teddy's heavily inked hand, her instincts demands her to bite down and crunch his fingers until they snap like carrots. Such a foolish, sadist thought to entertain herself with. So she does her best to shake such a thought away as she licks and presses onto his possibly delicate fingers quickly and gently as she can possibly go. Everything seems to go according to plan until...

"Resist the urge to bite him, he is not posing any harm at this moment... Don't bite... Do. Not. Bi-"

SNAP.

"GAA-FUUUCK!"

Marya immediately spat Teddy's fingers out of her mouth, hoping her ears are only deceiving her when she just heard a snap immediately following up with a loud, high-pitched yelp coming out of Teddy's throat. Her hopes were unfortunately dashed when she turns to see him holding his hand tightly with a pained expression on his face and uttering a handful of curses. Now she swears she also saw blood dripping down from his hand. His whole fingers thankfully didn't snap in half, but there was at least one part she did accidentally press her fangs too hard onto: Two of his fingernails. One on his second smaller pinky and another on his fourth one near his thumb. He unintentionally moved his middle finger down before it could fall victim to the vampire underestimating the strength of her fangs.

"Teddy!" She approaches the whimpering pup to investigate his now cracked and bloody nails "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"So FUCKING mu-u-uch!" Teddy sobs as he continues to wither in pain and regret the dumbest decision he has ever done in his life. No wonder his mom is disappointed in his life choices, at least that's what he thinks. "Sorry, Lady Draculaura..."

"No... I should be the one to sincerely apologize for inconveniencing your moment of pleasure with my curse. Now I shall atone for my sins."

With a swipe of her claw, she draws a small line of blood on her own wrist and aims the dripping, healing blood onto his broken nails to quickly repair the damaged tissue. This is the punishment she deserves for posing harm on a relatively harmless wolf, at least that's what she thinks.

Teddy doesn't know whether he should be terrified or impressed as hell. "So... Do you want anything for dinner tonight? I can kill someone for you to eat as my apology for thinking it was smart of me to play with those sharp fangs. Sorry, it's just your fangs are so awesome and cute..."

"It's fine, I understand." Marya says as she licks the remaining blood off his healing nails. "You don't have to kill anyone for me to atone if you don't truly want to. Something simple as this "spaghetti and meatballs" from here is fine. Long as there's no garlic of course."

I just really wanted some Dracula teeth worship, so I drew it myself. X3

Tell you what, drawing so many sharp teeth is actually pretty fun, <3 Also trying to incorporate as many Drac and Renfield fits as I possible can. I love their wardrobe!

[1jet2unknown]

@averystereksummer Day 7 - out on the water

Finally back home and able to properly post again. Again a bit too late for the actual day itself, but I hope you guys enjoy anyway :)

The pack spent a day at the beach and shortly after they set camp under some big sun umbrellas only a short distance from the water, Derek, Scott, Allison, Isaac and Jackson rented out some surfboards, all quick to paddle out to the sea, trying to catch one of the good waves.

Stiles stayed back with Lydia who laid in a lounge chair under a big umbrella reading as well as Erica & Boyd who were more interested to draw obsceneries into the sand, Erica cackling whenever a passing mother gasped and pulled her child away.

Stiles watched Derek catch some of the big waves, smoothly riding them out, making surfing look so easy. He smiled when after almost an hour Derek came wading back out of the water a bright smile on his face as he unclased the line of his board from his ankle.

“You look like you had fun,” Stiles mused as he handed Derek his towel. Derek just grinned, his muscles flexing as he dried off his hair. “Absolutely did. You shoud try it, too!”

Stiles just huffed. “Me?” he scoffed.” Yeah right! I have a hard enough time to stay on two steady feet while walking. I’d probably split the board with my head in less than five minutes.

”Derek snorted. “Oh, come on. You might be a bit clumsy sometimes...” Jackson snorted loudly at that as he passed by and Stiles threw him a glare. “But you’re more athletic than you give yourself credit. I could totally teach you!”

It took about one more hour of Derek explaining some of the basics of surfing and the pack mocking Stiles for Stiles to agree to give surfing a try.

“Ten bucks on Stiles not even getting up on the board,” Jackson exclaimed. “Ten he does," Scott offered in return and just when Stiles wanted to thank his friend for sticking up for him, Scott added “but faceplants within less than 5 seconds.”

Stiles glared at his traitor-friend as well as at the rest of the pack, each chiming in their own bets of how Stiles would fail on the board.

“Ten on Stiles riding a small wave within less than an hour.”

Stiles’ head whipped around as fast as the others’ to find Derek with an eyebrow raised in a challenge. He pulled his shirt over his head, handing it over to Stiles. “Wear this. It keeps you from scraping your torso until you have the hang of it and keeps you warm in the water.”

Stiles gulped, but took the shirt from Derek nonetheless, pulling it over his head. Derek smiled at him. “You ready to start your first surfing lesson?” he asked and Stiles threw another look at the grinning pack before nodding and falling in step behind Derek.

Derek pointed him towards Scott’s board, pulling his own from the sand with ease. When they had made their way over to the water, to Stiles’ surprise Derek made him put his board down on the sand rather than in the water.

“We’ll start with the basics. Paddling and popping up,” Derek explained and Stiles rolled his shoulders in preparation for what ever Derek had him do for the next hour.Okay. He felt stupid, laying on his board practicing paddling on land, but Derek said it was necessary and he trusted Derek. He wouldn’t just have him do this to make fun of him. And surely enough, after a few corrections of his movements here and there Derek allowed Stiles to move on to practicing popping up.

During the first try, Stiles slipped, crashing face first onto the board and the pack was howling. Derek shot them a red-eyed glare before turning back to Stiles, helping him up and taking a careful look at his chin.

“Don’t let that bother you,” he said in a small but sure voice. “You’re doing good. Avoid grabbing the edges of the board and you’ll be less likely to slip. I’ll also wax the board a bit more, giving you a better grip.

”Stiles nodded, weirdly aware of Derek’s fingers still caerfully holding his chin.Derek gave him another nod before turning around, prepping Stiles’ board.

And sure enough, about 30min later Stiles was able to jump and stand on his board correctly. Derek gave him a proud, teethy smile and nodded towards the water. “Now... Let’s try the same thing in the water.”

Ten minutes of paddling in the water later, Derek sat on his board and demonstrated popping up once more. Stiles watched as Derek got on in one smooth motion, riding the small wave expertly.

Derek paddled back to where Stiles’ was seated on Scott’s board. He pushed himself to a sitting position and pushed his wet hair from his forehead.

“Think you got this?” he asked and Stiles gulped. He took a deep breath, eyes shortly scanning the beach for the others who were watching them before looking straight at Derek again. He nodded.

“Good,” Derek answered. “Then get ready.” He looked behind them, watching a wave coming up. “You can catch this one. I’ll be right with you. You got this.”

The two of them got into position and when they found themselves close to the peak, Derek shouted “paddle, paddle, paddle” prompting Stiles to paddle with his arms as if there was no tomorrow.

“Jump!” Derek instructed and Stiles pushed himself up as quick and smoothly as he could.

“YES!!!!” Derek screamed as he watched Stiles catch his very first wave, feet planted firmly on the board as he rode for a few meters. When his board slowed down, Stiles jumped from the board, crashing into the water rather unvceremoniously. But he didn’t find it in himelf to care.

When he broke the surface, his face almost split from the huge grin on his face.Derek paddled over, a grin almost as big on his face. “Told you you’d be able to do it!” Stiles pulled himself onto the board, answering the high-five Derek offered him before turning his head to the shoreline.

“SUCK ON THAT, DICKHEADS!” he screamed from the top of his lungs accommodated by his hands held high above his head, flipping his friends off.

Derek just laughed as he watched the younger one, a fond glint in his eyes.

Another hour later, Derek and Stiles were still in the water.Stiles had ended up falling a few times while trying to catch bigger waves than that first one, but he found himself to not care much, the joy of allt he times he did manage to catch a wave outshining any frustration he might feel the times he didn’t.He and Derek sat on Derek’s board, Scott’s board swimming close to them, still attached to Stiles’ ankle. "Wrap-up session" Derek had explained when he had patted his board, urging Stiles to join him.

“So... how did I do, teach?” Stiles joked and Derek shook his head slightly in amusement. Stiles nudged him with his knee. “Come on. You can be frank with me... I mean, I did fall quite a bit there. But..” He scrunched up his nose, wiggling his head a little trying to get some reply out of Derek.

Derek lipped his lips and nudged Stiles’ knee back. “You were amazing,” he said in a low and earnest voice that made Stiles’ face heat up and chest grow tight.“Amazing?” Stiles asked, a shy smile on his face, and Derek nodded.

“Amazing. As expected.”

That made Stiles huff an embarrassed laugh, pushing against Derek’s shoulder.  “Yeah right,” he said. “As if ‘amazing’ is a word people actually associate with me,” he mumbled but when he looked up he found Derek looking straight at him, face open and honest. “I do.”

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and for a few moments all he could do was stare at Derek, mouth slightly agape with disbelief that Derek - Derek Hale - had just said that. About him of all people.

“I trust your capabilities,” Derek said, eyes wandering to where Stiles had started to fist them into the wet fabric of his swim shorts. “I trust you,” he added and Stiles huffed out the breath he had held.

For a few moments Stiles just watched Derek. Who suddenly seemed unable to look Stiles’ in the eyes anymore. And Stiles felt lightheaded with the realization what Derek’s words actually meant.

Derek trusted him. He knew that. But that wasn’t what Derek had meant when he had said the words. Stiles knew Derek long enough to understand his words the way they were intended - as a love confession.

And it made him light-headed and giddy and tense and hot and cold... all at the same time. Because yes. He had hoped for this moment, prayed for it, for the past couple of years. In between all the times they were at each others throat, bickering, saving each others' life more times than they could count.

He had long been Derek's. And he had hoped, against all the doubt and self-depreciation in his mind, that maybe someday Derek might feel the same.

“I trust you, too,” he said in a voice so low it was barely a whisper. And given the bright, relieved smile on Derek's face the were had understood Stiles, too.

For a moment they just looked at each other, the bright orange and red from the setting sun reflecting in their eyes.

It was Derek who moved first, reaching out and cupping Stiles' face with one hand as he leaned forward. Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, nestling against Derek's palm before leaning forward to meet Derek's lips. 

[a-simple-imagine]

The Smarter Witch

Synopsis: You like to consider Hermione your academic rival but things begin to fall apart between the two of you when Malfoy and friends start asking questions. The reader is in Slytherin sorry.

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader (can be read as romantic or platonic)

Words: 3.5+

A/N - I’ve been rewatching all the Harry Potter Movies at the cinema recently and I think i like it more now than I ever did before. This is my first HP story so go easy on me, okay? Comments are appreciated and requests are open!!

Warnings - Swearing, excessive use of the word mudblood... i think that’s it. 

"Granger," You call out, shoving your things into your bag as quick as humanly possible before charging after her. The crowd of other students growing the distance between you as you slip between them but not without almost crashing into people a bunch of times along the way. "Granger- wait." You try but she continues to walk away with Potter and Weasley beside her. You eventually manage to push your way through until you're walking in step with the trio. The girl stands in the middle, guarded by her two best friends.

"Hey," You offer them a smile, "Guess who got a perfect?"

"How?" It's instinctive to turn your nose up when it comes to Ronald Weasley. Not because of his social status like Malfoy suggests but you just found him rather... irritating. You completely ignore his question; breaking formation, you get ahead of the group and begin to carefully walk backwards so you can focus on the girl. She looked anywhere but at you, however, she had a smirk on her lips. Small but visible.

"Only because Snape favours you," The brunette proclaimed. This was routine for the two of you as of late. Always making excuses as to why the other came out on top. Only because of this. Only because of that. It was never as simple as just studying and doing well.

"You're just jealous that I'm a genius." You insist, your smile growing as you teased your own brilliance. Her head shakes a little.

"Since when were you, two friends?"

"Nobody said anything about friends Weasley-" You growl, your once happy expression morphing into one of pure distaste as you look at him. Spinning gracefully on your heel, you begin to walk normally again. "Since I'm so much smarter than you, I can help you study if you need it."

"I don't need any help from the likes of you, thank you," The likes of you? Did she mean a Slytherin? Or just someone who was smarter than her? Although you didn't actually believe you were smarter... well, not entirely anyway. Hermione Granger was often proclaimed as the smartest in your grade, didn't matter how hard you worked; you'd never quite be the promising young witch everyone seemed to think she was. Which is why you find yourself constantly competing. If you can prove to her you were smart then maybe everyone would see you as more than just a Malfoy crony.

You slap your hand against your chest just above your heart; stumbling backwards as if she just shot an arrow straight through. "Oh, how you wound me, Miss Granger. Care to share how well you did? One hundred percent?" She wouldn't have done badly at least not by everyone else's standard of bad. "Ninety maybe?" You turn back to them, coming to halt directly in front of the girl. "Merlin's beard Hermione, don't tell me you got less than eighty? That would be a travesty."

"if you don't mind, we're a little busy." She hadn't answered the question and as she walked around you, you expected she wasn't going to. "Come along Harry," she took his hand. "Ronald." And his before marching away. You watch them as they go, a smirk lingering before slipping off in search of your friends.

Come Friday afternoon and you found yourself in the great hall. The busy castle was beginning to calm and few people sat in the tables alongside the two of you. You take a sip of some water as you watch the gears in her head turn, debated her next move. At this point you already knew you would win; you always did. While everything else was more of a competition; Hermione Granger surprisingly wasn't all too hard to beat at Wizard's chess. Your Fridays together we're brilliant times to chat though, you'd often sum up any achievements from the week just to see who's doing better.

"I can't believe you beat me in history of magic again- I spent hours on that stupid essay. I basically lived in the library."

"I can help you study if you like," she offered, her eyes not leaving the board as she ordered her bishop forward. You watch as the chess piece moves along the board.

"You're not funny Granger," you tease, ordering your knight forward to take down her bishop. "Check,"

A paper ball hit the back of your head, drawing your attention away. Pansy stood with a wide grin on display, you ignored her and returned to your game but Hermione was also focused on your friend. "I think she wants your attention."

Another paper ball collides against your head. You sigh loudly before turning and mouthing 'what?'

"We're going down to the black lake? You coming?" She asked. "Or are you too busy with the Gryffindor?"

"just give me a sec." You wave her away, turning back to the other girl. "Have you moved?" She nods a little, her hair bouncing with the movements. You examine the board trying to figure out who she had moved but it didn't really matter. With a final move of your queen, the king was knocked off the board. "I do believe that is checkmate."

"I'm beginning to think you're cheating."

"Me?" You ask, pretending to be offended by the notion. "Never. How little faith you have me in, Granger."

"Slytherins are known for being cunning."

"We're not all cheating monsters, my dear sweet Gryffindor. Some of us actually have a conscience."

"I find that hard to believe," Her lips were curled into a cheeky smile. You'd never quite noticed the way her eyes crinkle when her smile is so big or how teethy it was. It was adorable. 

"I gotta go- same time next week? Maybe I'll even let you win."

"I don't need you to let me win,"

"You sure?" Nothing more than a harmless joke as you stand. "How many times in a row have I won now?"

"Slither away," Hermione smiles as you back away towards Pansy. You had to admit, you did firm Hermione to be intriguing.

Being in the same year, meant you actually saw Hermione rather frequently, however, your actual interactions were limited. Yes, you played Wizard's chess together every Friday but other than that, you basically only had very short conversations. It was like being in two completely different worlds simply because you were put in different houses. This school had a weird obsession with separation by houses. You were a proud Slytherin as were you friends but your ambition to branch out was often looked at as beneath some of the others. It was dinner time and you sat at the Slytherin table but your focus was pulled towards a certain familiar Gryffindor student. She just happened to be sat in your eye line, so you couldn't help but amuse her from afar. With funny faces and playful winks. Her most common reactions were shakes of the head or rolling her eyes but you knew secretly she enjoyed the teasing.

"Are you even listening?" A sharp elbow slams into your side. You bite back a groan as you shove the boy gently.

"The hell Draco,"

"What are you staring at?" There was a particularly bite behind his words but you'd grown used to how aggressive he could come across. He was always trying to be the alpha and frankly, everyone let him be. You simply shrug at his question; grabbing an apple and taking a bite.

"What did you want?"

The grey of his eyes flickers in curiosity as he tries to figure out what had you so distracted. When you look across at Granger, she's chatting to Ginny Weasley about something.

"Sometimes I wonder if the sorting hat got it wrong with you," He muses. "Should have put you in Gryffindor since you're so obsessed with Potter."

"Says the boy who never shuts up about him." You fight back. You couldn't care less about Harry Potter or his chosen one status. You knew Malfoy hated him though; it was a little weird just how much.

"You gravely misunderstand my interest in potter."

"I don't care if you have a crush on him Malfoy," There are a few snickers around the table but he's definitely not laughing.

"Don't be ridiculous." He growled, leaving the table. It was only a joke. You follow after him along with the others.

After dinner, you're lounging in the common room. One leg hooked over the arm of the couch as you read a book all about dragons. Fascinating creatures.

"So are you and the Gryffindor friends?"

"Who?" You question. Not even looking at the blonde as he sits down beside you.

"Granger." He confirms. "Pansy thinks you have a crush or something?"

"Pansy is a liar." The joke isn't as funny when it's against you. Your feelings towards Granger was nobody else's business but your own. You were often left conflicted when it came to her. You roll your eyes, sitting up straight. "I just like proving that I'm better than her."

"You spend a lot of time with her," Goyle adds.

"So?" You finally lower your book. Your brows knitted together in a clear frown as you scan the room. A few people had invited themselves into the conversation. "I spend a lot of time with you but doesn't mean I wanna get into your pants,"

"I don't know why you associate with any of them." This was beginning to feel like a lecture. Why do they even care who you hang out with? You didn't care much for the boys but you liked Hermione. She was kind, funny and really smart. You enjoyed the little time you ultimately spent together but if you admitted that, they would crucify you.

"They'd probably say the same about you lot," you state. Bringing the large book back up to cover your face. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to read here,"

"You can tell us if you like her," Pansy contributes. "I mean we all know you have a soft spot for the weak."

"Are you taking pity on her?"

"Maybe she wants to start hanging out with Potter. Can you imagine?"

You grit your teeth, not at all reading the words on the page in front of you. They're just trying to get a rise out of you.

"I can't imagine anything more pathetic," Malfoy chuckles followed by a few of the others. "They're an embarrassment to the wizarding world if you ask me. Parading around like they own the place-"

"We're nothing okay?" You slap your book shut. "Not friends or secret lovers or anything, I would never date someone so.... dirty." The word slipped out before you had a chance to stop. You didn't see her that way; she was much too grand to be considered dirty. And you couldn't care less about pure bloodlines. It didn't make her any less of a fantastic witch. "I'm not joining Potter's Merry band of monkeys, so just drop it okay." Ignoring the snickers and hushed whispers, you march off to bed.

It's the Friday following your little session in the common room. You forgave them all of course; you always did. There was no point in being angry at them over some harmless teasing. You had the chessboard set up and even brought along a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans but she was running late. Normally it was you showing up late; very unusual behaviour from someone known for punctuality. But as time ticked on and you were still left alone, you began to realise she wasn't going to turn up. Packing everything up, you decide it'll be best to search for her; something bad must have happened for her to not show at all.

"Weasley," you shout, jogging up to Harry and Ron who seemed to be missing their third arm. "You seen granger?"

"Why?" Asks the redhead. Harry presents you with a smile.

"None of your business," you spit at Ron. "Have you seen her or not?"

"Last we saw her she said she was heading to the library," Harry answered. You offer a grateful smile but you can't help but wonder why she's decided to head to the library. Was there a test you didn't know about? Was she trying to get the upper hand? Surely she could have just told you that instead of having you wait.

"Thanks, Harry," You skip along to the library but the journey proves pointless when you discover she isn't there either. You would be lying if you said you had searched particularly hard before giving up though. There was always next week. With a defeated sigh, you head back towards the common room. Luck must have been on your side because you spot her on the way back. Perched on a ledge with her head in a book. Typical Hermione Granger.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," you announce as you walk towards her. "I thought we were gonna play wizards chess so I could annihilate you again." The faintest sniffle hit your ears and you froze. Was she... crying? Shit. You don't do well with criers; you never know how to handle situations when people cry. It's always so... awkward. "What's wrong?"

"Go away." Her voice is quiet but echoes through the empty corridor.

"Granger?" You closer to her now, leaning against one of the stone columns.

"I said go away," Her words are harsh; she shoves her face further into the book. Was she trying to hide the fact she had been crying? It was pretty obvious at this point.

"What's up with you?" You wonder, folding your arms over your chest.

"I don't want to talk to you,"

"What did I do?" The confusion is very clear in your voice. You'd hardly even spoken to the girl recently so how could you have possibly upset her.

"You're as bad as the rest of them, now leave me alone," Sharp words as she grabbed her things and stormed off. As bad as the rest of them? What did that even mean? Pushing yourself upright, you follow after her.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Just some filthy mudblood am I?" Venomous words spat at you with the speed of a viper. You stumble back a little; she's never been so angry with you. Tears spill down her rosy cheeks."Malfoy told me what you said- Guess I should have known better considering your so-called friends. You're just as cruel as the rest of them."

"Hermione..." you sigh softly. You couldn't exactly defend your fellow Slytherin friends. "Why do you believe him anyway?"

"So you didn't say it then."

"No, I did," you shrug a little. "Well I said you were dirty, I didn't say... that word."

"Mudblood- Same thing though right? You think you're so much better just because you're of Pure blood."

"I didn't say that, I-"

"Just stay away from me." Her tone has you backing down from the fight. You consider following her as she charges off down the hall but instead, you go back to the dorms.

"You're a right git," you exclaim, storming into the room, grip tight on the book you launch at his head. Platinum blonde hair darts of the way.

"What the hell."

"You told her?" All eyes are on you as you confront him.

"What are you on about?"

"Hermione- you told her I thought she was dirty."

"Your words, not mine." Draco shrugged a little. A huff of a laugh passing his lips which pissed you off even more. 

"I-," you look around, picking up a pillow and tossing it at him. "You are such a pain in the ass."

"Why do you care about that filthy mudblood, you said you don't even like her?"

"I don't even like you and yet we're best friends," You shout, looking at the coffee table you grab a mug and aim at the boy. Draco's hand shoots up in defense.

"Don't you dare throw that at me or I swear-" He fought back. You lower your hand and so does he then you throw it anyway, hearing it break as you collapse on the couch. "You don't need someone like that." He muses as he cautiously approaches the couch.

"We can't all be insufferable snobs Malfoy," you grumble, rather casually considering what just happened. "You mess up everything for no bloody reason"

"Probably shouldn't go around calling her dirty then," He argues. "I didn't make you say that..."

The boy hovers over the back of the couch and you shove him away. "I hate you."

You realise you have to be the one because Malfoy's not about to admit he did anything wrong. And you know at the end of the day it was your fault for saying it in the first place. You retire to your bed, no longer watching to deal with other people.

For the next week or so Hermione avoids you like the plague. You'd obviously see her in some of your classes but when you'd try to speak to her after, she'd rush out before you had a chance to so much as saying hi. If you managed to catch her gaze, she'd stare daggers; if looks could kill you'd be six feet under by now. You'd sometimes find her in the library, it was the one place she could cause a scene but neither could you. When you tried to whisper to her, she'd completely ignore you. You were beginning to miss the limited interaction you hard; Half the fun of studying was ultimately doing better than her in the end.

The girl was alone today, searching the shelves. The library was fairly empty and it was getting late. You take the opportunity to make some paper birds and send them fluttering over to her. One by one until she whispers yells at you to stop. You chuckle. Doing it again. This develops into a habit throughout the next couple of days. You'll send paper birds her way, just to get a reacting out of her. You start writing little messages on them too but you don't think she ever reads them before setting them on fire.

It becomes abundantly clear she's not giving in and therefore one day during breakfast you abandon your table and enter what Malfoy would consider enemy territory. Pushing Neville aside to sit next to Hermione. A bunch of lions look to you like you'd just entered their den without permission; in their defense, you never sit here. Hermione gets up to leave but not before you can grab her wrist.

"Can you please stop ignoring me," she yanks out of your grip, walking away to leave you surrounded by kids you've only ever spoken to in passing. You groan loudly.

"What happened between you two?" Ron asked.

"Do you ever keep out of other people's business Weasley or do you have some obsessive need to weasel your way into everything."

"Just tryna help, jeez."

"If you must know, Malfoy told her that I referred to her as a... y'know."

"Mudblood?" Harry continues for you.

"I called her dirty but I didn't mean it."

"Thought you weren't friends anyway," Ron wore a smirk like he caught you out or something so you just ignore him.

"Now she's ignoring me. I just want her to talk to me."

"Have you apologised?"

"How can I apologise if she won't bloody talk to me, Harry? I thought you were supposed to be smart." You comment, dropping your head against the table. "I've tried writing notes but she burns all of them. I'm running out of ideas, I can only be so charming."

"Can't really help you there," Ron replies.

"All the boys in this school are so bloody useless," you sigh dramatically, slamming your hands on the table to push yourself up. "You’re her best friends and you can't help? Pathetic."

You debate joining the others but you decide against it and leave the great hall. You're not hungry anymore.

"You really should stop sending paper birds," The voice catches you off guard, whipping your wand out before realising it's her.

"I'll stop if you talk to me again," You counter, lowering your wand.

"I'm not ashamed of my parents."

"And you shouldn't be." Your head falls, "I really am sorry for what I said, it was definitely a peer pressure thing and I was stupid." You blurt out. "Malfoy can just be a lot sometimes and I was trying to study so... I don't think you're less than just because your parents are muggles Hermione. Not even a little." You take a deep breath. "I just want my friend back."

She hesitates. "Oh, so we're friends now huh?"

"Only if you want to be," You shrug. There was part of you that wanted to say maybe you like her as more than that but you kept it to yourself; at least for now. "I understand if you don't like... I was really shitty."

"So Friday then?"

"What?"

"Wizards chess? I think I may be able to beat you now, I've been practising."

"Pfft not likely," You tease, your smile growing. "Friday sounds good."

// NEXT

[theklaapologist]

Hey dad" Monosuke wasn't sure why he felt the need to inform him about that. It didn't even make sense to begin with, it shouldn't be possible but here they were. He should be focusing on the killing game, making sure that the brats followed the rules but sometimes it was a hassle. He, and everyone else knew that they wouldn't dare to cheat their way out - not after what happened to kaede at least - so one night's drunk event ended up becoming a ritual to them.

Their father didn't really need to know about their personal lives, yeah the possibility of him already knowing was there but he hadn't mentioned anything, and the monokubs didn't dare to find out for themselves. But one faithful night happened, and now they had to deal with a massive problem that required their father's assistance.

"What do you need my cute cub?" monokuma turned to face his eldest son with a big teethy grin.

"I uh... We, um we need your help" the half red bear whispered while fidgeting with his scarf. He felt akward having this conversation and they were still at the start. But he was the reason why nobody was in a state to walk right now and he had to deal with the consequences. At least that's what monosuke had told him before hitting him with a stack of money.

"You look pale monotaro. Did something happen? Are the brats giving you a hard time?" monokuma growled and pulled his claws out. He would allow any kinds of violence and torture methods, but he would always draw the line on anything that made his kids distressed.

"No! No no no- it's nothing like that dad-" monosuke squeaked and shook his head in a dismissive way. "It doesn't have to do with the students it has to do with uh... with us" he gulped down.

Despite wanting to leave and just deal with it on his own he had to ask and get information. Monosuke would deffintelly beat the shit out of him if he went back empty handed and monophanie would cry - god forbid if monophanie cried again - his heart couldn't handle it.

"Oh? Then what is it? What could possibly make my dear children so anxious? Or did you just need an excuse to spend time with your favorite parent?"

Monokuma raised his hand to pet monotaro's head and the latter shuddered at the thought of his reaction when he'd learn the news.

"Dad I- the others... we-" but how could he even say it? How could he even voice out these words to him?

"Well?" monokuma was getting impatient. He had other things to do as well and he couldn't wait here all day for his eldest son to speak up despite how much he enjoyed his company.

"Dad" he started. "The others are-" he took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was about to come.

"Pregnant. I left them pregnant"

Καλό Πάσχα καλή ανάσταση ελπίζω να στάλθηκε όλο 💖💞💖💞💖💞

Το ανέσπερο φως είναι αυτό το φανφιξιον και όλοι οι μουτς μας πρέπει να το λάβουν. Καλή ανάσταση Νεσς μου και το κοπιπαστα βγήκε αληθινό καθώς μόλις είδα τον αναστημένο Χριστο φαντάρο

[jaebaebie]

Catch me, I’m falling for you.. literally

Jeongin ~ “Then I’ll catch you.”

Y/N takes the saying “falling for your soulmate” a little too literally, 

“You okay up there?”

“Yup! I’m okay!”

You were DEFINITELY NOT okay. In fact, you were far from okay.

Earlier that day, you told yourself that you were going to have a simple and relaxing Saturday doing all the things you loved to do. You really needed the break, especially after two painful weeks of your final exams. So, with your sketchbook and your blue 2B pencil, you set off in an adventure, hoping to capture the most beautiful images in your drawing.

Keyword : hoping

Of course, nothing was ever simple with you.

Somehow, you found yourself on top of one of the oak trees in your neighbourhood. The feeling was surreal when you first found a spot on a stable branch. You had a nice view of your neighbourhood. The playground where kids roamed. The breeze was cool and fresh, unlike the hot, smokey air that polluted the grounds. It was a perfect place. Free from people. Free from technology. Simply you being lost in the art of your sketches.

You only realised that you were in an awkward position once you had finished your drawing. There were no branches stable enough for you to step on and the other larger branches were too far for your reach. Well, shit. So much for being simple.

“What it like up there?” The same boy asked, looking up at you. His fox like eyes were nearly shut, unable to withstand the brightness of the sun that was behind you.

You glanced down at him, faking a smile amidst your embarrassment, “It’s pretty nice. Nice view. Nice breeze. Nice...leaves.”

He nodded with the slight raise of his brows. He crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back to get a better look of your uncomfortable state on the branch before a cheeky chuckle escaped his lips.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

You cleared your throat, letting out an awkward laugh. You were so sure your cheeks had turned red from embarrassment. Truly, being stuck in a tree is something only you could do,

“Me? Stuck? Pfft!”

You hoped that he would leave you alone so you could continue to try and get back onto the ground without the presence of a witness. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, a teethy grin on his face. You sighed in defeat, accepting the embarrassment that dawned upon you,

“Yes.. Yes, I am.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. You couldn’t tell if the butterflies you were feeling in your stomach was from the humiliation or because the boy below you was cute. Terribly cute.

He looked like he was glowing under the rays of the sun. Sun-kissed. His brown eyes appeared golden, nearly forming a line as he gave you a smile with his eyes.

“Try reaching for that branch,” he suggested, pointing a finger to a sturdy-looking branch several metres away from you. You already tried,, many times. But even with your furthest stretch you were still short of reach.

“I can’t.” You replied, trying to reach for the branch to prove your point. The tip of your fingers barely touched the wood. “It’s too far.”

“Try a jump. It’ll be easy to get down from there.” He said, referring to the same branch.

Your jaw dropped and you stared at him in disbelief. You were METRES above ground, and there was no way you were going to risk your legs.. especially since you were more artistic than athletic.

“It’s an easy jump. I’m sure you can make it.” He reassured you. Though, it didn’t give you much help.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

He smiled, beginning to position himself right below the branch you were tasked to jump to. If you weren’t too busy trying to choose between life and death, you would have had time to fangirl over the cute and cliché phrase he had just muttered.

Sighing, you carefully stood up, dropping your sketchbook to the ground so that you had both hands to hold with. You eyed the branch, internally slapping yourself for getting into this situation. You took one quick glance towards the boy below you and he opened his arms, signalling that he was ready to catch you if need be.

You took a deep breath and jumped. Only breathing out when you felt the rough wood in your tight grasp as you hung from the branch. The boy below you cheered you on and you smiled, feeling proud that you managed to successfully jump.

Just as you were beginning to pull yourself up, the sound of wood cracking filled your ears and the branch you held onto shook.

“Oh shiii—-“

The branch snapped, sending you plummeting down onto the ground. You crashed into him, hearing both of you grunt as the air was knocked out of the both of you. The impact sent him back and the two of you fell onto the grassy floor.

The landing was hard. Yet, was not as bad as you had expected it to be.

You opened your eyes. You were right on top of him. Your hands rested on his chest while his were placed on your back. His face was inches away from yours, snapping you back to reality when he groaned in pain.

You pulled away, moving off of him, “I’m so sorry!”

“Well, that was certainly a much faster way of getting down.”

He spoke breathlessly, clutching his side as his face scrunched up uncomfortably. You hoped it was nothing. That it was just the painful aches he received from your crash, just like yours. You stood up, holding a hand out for him,

“I’m Y/N.”

He tried to form a smile. Extremely different in contrast to the bright smile he was giving you when you were still up in the tree. He extended his hand out, immediately pulling it away just as his fingers brushed against yours,

“I’m Jeongin —OW”

Well, that can’t be good.

“I’m really sorry again, Jeongin.”

After nearly four hours at your local hospital, the two of you were finally out. You frowned, feeling an extreme sense of guilt as you continued to stare at Jeongin’s elevated arm sling,, caused by yours truly.

“It’s really fine, Y/N. I’m glad you’re safely down from that tree.”

Your simple day became complicated in a flash. Got stuck in a tree for an hour, fell on top of a stranger you’ve never met before, stayed in the hospital for four hours because you broke the stranger’s rib. So much for first meetings.

You dropped him off at his doorstep, thinking it was the least you could do for all the trouble you had caused him.

“You have my number, right? Just call me if you need anything. I really want to make it up to you.”

“Actually,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his good hand, “Do you want to.. maybe hang out sometimes? You know, without trees, or risky jumps, or broken ribs.”

You laughed, immediately nodding your head. Who knew you’d end up creating a friend by being stuck in a tree?

“I would love to.”

“So, where’d you find your boyfriend?”

Felix, your Australian bestfriend, asked as he brought his coffee mug to his lips. Having moved to Australia, you hadn’t seen him in nearly three years. It was nice to finally catch up. He wanted to meet your boyfriend, who was running a little late.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

Felix chuckled, “Really? I met my girl in an online game, Y/N. I’m pretty sure I will believe you.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to control the smile that formed on your face as you recalled the love story between Felix and his girlfriend. A very modern one.

“So, what happened?” He asked.

You straightened yourself out, shrugging your shoulders,

“I fell on him.”

Felix raised his brow, throwing you a confused look, “You mean ‘for’ him..? Like love at first sight? That’s so sweet, Y/N.”

“Nope. I mean I literally fell ON him. I broke his ribs.”

You corrected him, watching his eyes widen before he shook his head, sighing in disappointment, “Only you, Y/N. Only you.”

You laughed, remembering the fact that you, too, had said the same thing to yourself when you were up in the tree.

“How long did it take you to fall for him, though?” Felix asked.

The bells to the cafe chimed, catching your attention. You looked up to see the victim to your clumsiness two years ago. He scanned the place in search for you, smiling brightly when your eyes met his.

You smiled back, feeling the same fluttery feeling whenever you saw him. You replayed your first meeting and your time at the hospital. How you guys talked endlessly while waiting for his x-ray scans. How you first held his hand because he was terrified of needles. How you easily deciphered that he was a genuinely nice and sweet person. That was all it took for you to really fall in love with jeongin. With the smile he formed still on your face, you turned to Felix, answering his question.

“Four hours.”

[bogambiance]

Two Slow Dancers - a Reddie short

Does it smell like a school gymnasium in here?

As soon as the town car passed the “Welcome to Derry!” sign, memories began pouring relentlessly into Eddie’s mind. They had started flickering on slowly when Mike had called, like Christmas lights left on well into the spring. But those memories had been almost exclusively awful. The moments of terror which had been seared into him like a brand steaming out first. His mother, his bedroom door locked from the outside, a tray of pills, Henry Bowers...It. Now however, some rose colored bulbs were being screwed in, and Eddie felt the headache he’d had since Mike’s call start to ease.

He remembered Bill, how much he had adored Bill, the stutter he worked on throughout their friendship, the deep sadness in him. He remembered Mike, strong and kind and reliable, laughing so deeply it made Eddie grin. He remembered Stan being smart and snarky and observant. He remembered going to him when it felt like there was no one else, and he remembered him hugging Eddie wordlessly. He remembered Ben, and almost in the same moment Beverly. Sweet Ben and fiery Beverly. He remembered caring for Ben’s and Beverly’s wounds alike, remembers them lifting up their shirts or pants and letting him dab an antiseptic pad. He remembered Ben’s books and his drawings. He remembered Beverly’s loud guaff and her urging for him to “do it Eddie, nothing matters,” but in a nice way.

And all at once, like someone pushed him backwards off a swing or tore a rug out from under his feet, Eddie remembered Richie. It felt like he remembered everything in that moment, but he was sure that couldn’t be true. Because with every memory he regained he understood more clearly the hole that had been gaping in his life for 27 years. He remembered Richie’s big dorky glasses, and the clear blue eyes behind, always looking right at Eddie. He remembered Richie’s cologne he stole from his dad and how strongly it smelled at the base of his neck. Eddie felt his breath hitch as he remembered fervent kisses behind closed doors. He remembered being 17 and in love and happy and fucking gay oh my god and optimistic but mostly in love.

Things slid into place in his mind in a terrifying and relieving way. Reasons he never felt quite right about women.

The first time they kissed they were at the Barrens, had wondered away from the rest of their friends dozing lazily in the sun. Richie had promised Eddie that he had “something really cool!” to show him and Eddie believed him. And Eddie wanted to be near him. They walked along the thick tree line until the wall of rock stood high opposite them, across the water. It was like they had travelled down into an impossible valley, like they were the only two people in the world.

“Okay, ready?”

Eddie had nodded furiously.

Richie lifted up the bottom of his T-shirt and showed Eddie a little mark, a smudge possibly, on the front of his hip under his abdomen.

“What is it?”

“It’s a stick and poke. Beverly did it for me.”

Eddie learned in, painfully aware of how close he was to Richie’s pelvis, and examined the “tattoo.” It was red and a little puffy. It was an ‘E.’

“Why did...that looks infected.”

Richie had huffed, irritated, and pulled his shirt back down.

“Can you not talk about infections for like two seconds?”

Eddie remembered rolling his eyes. “What’s ‘E’ stand for?” Richie didn’t respond, merely looked at him with a small, almost bashful smile.

“What do you think, dipshit?”

The implication hit Eddie a little late, but when it did he grabbed Richie’s face and kissed him hard. It was clumsy and teethy and wet and Eddie felt it on his lips in the back of that town car and remembered the feeling of being in love.

It's funny how they're all the same

At China Dragon, Eddie marveled at the state of his old friends. There was gray hair and bald spots and freckles he remembered the location of for no good reason. There were chiseled jawlines and stoic expressions and god so many memories were in his head it hurt. He had touched Beverly’s hair gently and let Bill hug him tightly. He ran his thumb over the scar on Stan’s jaw that you couldn’t quite see anymore but he knew was there. He searched the corners of the room for the person he knows he would have noticed immediately if he was indeed here. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he was dead.

And then he walked in, like he had never left, and Eddie felt the breath leave his body briefly. His brown curls were still falling, messy, around his face, but they were a bit shorter now. There were small streaks of gray it in, too. His thick glasses distorted his eyes but he could still see that they were, just as he remembered, locked in on him. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. He said something to the group, and Beverly hugged him, but Eddie couldn’t say what it had been. The welcome wagon passed and Richie walked towards him.

“Hi Eds,” he said quietly.

“Don’t call me that.”

It's funny how you always remember

Richie cracked a smile and pulled him in for a tight hug. Eddie let himself be molded against Richie’s body in the closeness of the embrace. He didn’t have to think at all about it.

And we've both done it all a hundred times before

He knew his face fell to rest in the crook of Richie’s neck. He knew his arms wrapped up around his shoulder. Richie knew his hands snaked up Eddie’s back under his shirt. He knew that he always drew him closer at the waist. It gave Eddie chills, how familiar it was. That, and the way Richie raked his fingernail as across them skin of his back. Instinctively, Eddie opened his mouth against Richie’s neck. Maybe to laugh at first, to say something, but the urge to bite him rose very suddenly in his mind. He managed to ignore it. He pulled away quickly after. Richie was smiling.

It's funny how I still forgot

Dinner was surprisingly lovely. He had been unable to realize what he was missing without these people, but the yearning he had for them had never eased. He recognized characteristics, turns of phrase, sounds, looks, exchanges as things he had gotten from his old friends. He felt Richie slid his hand on his thigh, on his back, through his hair and Eddie leaned into he. He remembered, slowly, these people knowing. These people loving them all the same. He remembered how right it felt to be near them, near Richie. It felt so right it hurt deep inside that he had lived most of his life without them. Tomorrow he might die. He would die without getting to meet Stan’s wife or see Billy’s movie. Without visiting one of Ben’s buildings or going to one of Beverly’s catwalks. Without getting to experience life with Richie like he was meant to.

Because Eddie knew he was supposed to have spent the last 27 years with Richie. It had always been and still was him, only him. A deep pang of sadness bloomed inside of him. It ballooned up through his throat and he felt his eyes begin to water. It wasn’t fair. They’d already had their childhood stolen, but that hadn’t been enough. It wasn’t fair.

He realized he had said the last bit out loud when Richie looked at him with his head turned ever so slightly to the side. He remembered that too, those moments of puppy dog confusion. Eddie looked down at his hands and bit his lips to keep from crying. It wasn’t fair.

It would be a hundred times easier

Eddie remembered being 17 and in love most of all. He remembered being so sure that even though he was going to Maine State and Richie was going to UCLA they would stay together. That after a year Eddie would transfer there too and they would live openly in Califnoria, finally. Eddie daydreamed about holding Richie’s hand in public. He daydreamed about their apartment together, their dog, their child. He daydreamed about marrying him in an big open field with his best friends there.

He had been so confident.

If we were young again

Now as he sat next to Richie, he realized the unbearingly small amount of time they had together. One day. A few hours. He wanted to go back in time and scream at his 17 year old self. Like Richie had screamed at him. He wished he had listened.

They had been at Richie’s house. His parents hadn’t been there. They were both yelling.

“Eddie are you just gonna life your whole life for her? You gonna live and die for her? Pretend to be straight for her?”

“You don’t understand-”

“You’re the only person who has to live your life. You’re the only person who has to wallow in your self created misery.”

Eddie sighed to push back the tears in his voice. “I know, okay? I know.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Richie bridged the distance between them suddenly, and knelt down in front of him. Even so he wasn’t that much shorter than Eddie. “Come with me. We’ll get an apartment together. You can go to trade school there, be a mechanic. It’ll be so good Eds.”

He couldn’t quite stifle it anything longer. A sharp sob escaped his chest. “I want to.”

“Then do it,” Richie grabbed his hands in his own. “Please.”

There were a million things Eddie wanted to say but couldn’t articulate. He wanted to explain that his psyche was deeply imbedded into his mother’s abuse. That to separate himself cold turkey from it, from her control, was going to be almost impossible. That Richie should drug him, strap him into the passenger seat, and just drive. He knew he wasn’t doing the right thing or the healthy thing. And he couldn’t stop it.

Because abuse isn’t tidy. You don’t get to cast it off and run off into the sunset to California with the love of your life. It pulls you down like quicksand if you try and leave too quickly. It drips down your throat like mud if you try and protest. No, it isn’t fair, Eddie knew. It isn’t fair that my happiness has always been at the bottom of the swimming pool. That I only have this moment.

But as it is

But it’s all I got.

When dinner was over he didn’t say anything, just followed Richie to his room. If he was surprised he didn’t show it. He’d left his wedding ring on the table.

And it is

Wordlessly, they fell into the bed with together. They had barely talked, were barely talking. There was a mountain of things to say between them and if they started to climb, the horror of its size would set in. They had so little time. Eddie didn’t want to feel afraid right then. He could be, would be, afraid tomorrow. But not then.

He remembered Richie’s body without having to think about it. He didn’t have time to think about how he’d lost his virginity to him, to dwell on all the awful sex he’d dad since forgetting him, to consider how many sessions of shameful masturbation had been focused on hazey memories of curly hair and calloused hands. He kissed Richie’s jawline and his shoulders, worked his way down to the tiny letter ‘E’ on his hip. He kissed it mournfully, and moved on before he could think too much about it.

They started slow, mostly because Eddie was nearly thirty years out of practice. But also because there was no need to rush. They had nothing even close to enough time to talk. But they had enough time for this.

We're just two slow dancers, last ones out

Richie came first, inside Eddie, their foreheads pressed together. Richie tried to tuck his face into Eddie’s shoulder, but no, he wasn’t having that. He grabbed Richie’s face in his hands and pulled it back towards his own, to watch intently as Richie fell apart. It was like he melted in his hands. His eyes rolled back just a little, and his eyelashes fluttered. His mouth fell into an ‘O’ and Eddie moved one thumb to drag across his mouth. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he wanted to see it again and again and again. He did not let himself think that he might not get to.

We're two slow dancers, last ones out

Eddie finished in Richie’s mouth, forcefully and without much fanfare. And even still, Eddie felt like he would float off the bed if Richie didn’t hold him down. Luckily he did hold him down. Nothing, not even the best of it, had ever been like that. Again he was struck like a swift slap in the face with how much he had missed out on.

And the ground has been slowly pulling us back down

Eddie cralwed back into the bed after cleaning up. The sheets smelled like their sweat and Richie’s cologne. Eddie brought it to his face and inhaled.

Richie pulled him up so that Eddie was laying with his head on his chest. He couldn’t quite hold it in anymore. Hot, wet tears flowed down his face and onto Richie’s chest hair.

“Ssh,” Richie has whispered into Eddie’s hair, “everything is okay.” Richie took a steadying breath. “Eddie, in two days-”

“We’ll both be dead?”

You see it on both our skin

Richie chuckled in an empty kind of way. “No. Let me talk. In two days, will you marry me?”

Eddie snorted. Considered saying I’m already married, Rich or it’s illegal, Rich or one or both of us will be dead, Rich. But he didn’t.

“Yeah, sure.” Richie barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, sure? Love you too Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiled. “I do.”

“You have to wait for the priest to ask you, Eddie.”

“No!” Eddie rubbed his face on Richie’s chest hair, smelled him again. “I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

We get a few years and then it wants us back

Richie dozed off first, snoring a little. Eddie gently took his glasses off his face and put them on the bedside table. In the partial light spilling out from the bathroom, he could just make out Richie’s features. With his hand shaking slightly, he dragged his finger from Richie’s brow bone to his chin, making several stops along the way. Then he continued down his body. Richie had acquired several other tattoos, along with a few scars. Eddie wondered briefly where they had come from, who he’d been with when he got them, who he’d been when he got them. He assumed Richie had had a glorious life even without him. Full of fame, travel, beauty, men. Eddie’s own life was nearly the exact opposite. Obscurity, monotony, fog, Myra....

At the risk of wasting even one moment of this time with Richie thinking of that, Eddie laid his head down on Richie’s chest and listened. Thur-rump. Thur-rump. He wondered what it would have been like at Richie’s side these past 27 years. He fell asleep happy for the first time in since he was 18.

It would be a hundred times easier

Down in the sewers, Eddie was leaned over Richie, shaking his shoulders after he’d fallen from the dead lights.

“I did it Richie! I killed It!”

Finally, Richie opened his eyes. He looked lost for a moment, but once his eyes found Eddie’s, they focused in. Richie smiled.

“I did it! It’s dead! I killed-!”

If we were young again

Then it was Richie’s turn to lean over Eddie’s crumpled body, impaled and losing light. Richie ran his fingers over his mouth, touched the blood there.

“Eddie, Eddie! We did it! It’s dead!”

He couldn’t be losing him. They’d beaten It before, and now, finally, for good. They could continue, together. He couldn’t lose Eddie. Not now. Not after all this.

“It’s dead! Eddie, come on!” Richie’s voice broke as rocks crumpled above their heads. “Eddie please!”

But as it is

“Richie we have to go,” Beverly urged. “I’m so sorry baby. He’s gone. We have to go.”

And it is

Richie pulled Eddie’s broken body to his chest, kissed him furiously on the head, on his shoulder, on his forehead.

“Please Eddie.”

To think that we could stay the same

We're two slow dancers, last ones out

[galaxybeginnings]

Joy for keana!

Send a word and I will write a drabble or headcanon based on it

Life in the orphanage had always been terrifying for Keana. Very few adults showed her kindness here. When couples would come and meet all the kids to perhaps adopt one of them, that was usually the only time any gentle care was directed at her. It helped that everyone was usually dolled up for these days. Couple after couple interacting with the children to see who would draw there attention. So many times had they made her feel possibly wanted - even a handful told her that she was a sweet girl and made her feel as if they would be taking her away from this place. But that never happened. The adults that worked and cared for the children would always tell her that they chose another. Telling her in ways that made her feel as if it was her fault.

As the years passed she slowly using less and less words. Her silence was going and the only time she had any small bit of happiness in this place was from one of the older boys. The day he had joined the children he had be lined for her, introducing himself only to receive a shy reaction of her hiding herself behind the tattered bear she had been allowed to keep. This seemed to only make him want to be around her even more. Wherever she was, he was there as well. Over time he won over her trust, so whenever she was being bullied by the other kids - he was the first she would seek and hide behind.

His small warm hand would always gently stroke her head when she was scared or when she had accomplished something. He brought comfort to her. The memories he had given her were ones that would last forever. Memories that she would lean on after he had been adopted without her. It had been hard but before he left he had given her the polar bear stuffed animal that he was given by his new parents. She could tell that they would treat him well. Even though they didn’t adopt her too, they had treated her kindly when they came for the visits to get to know him. Her little mind always thought, “Is this what it was like to have parents? Are there really adults out there that are this kind?”

During these few months of their visits, she got the taste of what it was like to possibly have a family. Her smiles grew and the life was returning to her eyes. She couldn’t stop smiling as she played with the older boy who she felt was like a brother to her. They had even given her clothing for the winter and taught her how to make a snowball. She was even given the chance to go to their home for Christmas. This turned out to be her first and last one she truly got to enjoy as a child. The presents they had gotten her. Dancing to holiday music in the new festive dress she had gotten. It even matched the sweater that the boy had received. The snowball fights in their backyard to then come inside to hot cocoa and a lit fireplace. Sometimes it felt like a dream. 

By the end of the day they all stood before the tree. Keana and the boy stood in-front, while the couple were behind them. As she settled into the spot she felt a hand to her head, it was larger than that of the boy’s so as she looked up she met eyes with the kind dark brown hues of the woman. She looked down at her with such kindness that it was hard for the young girl to not cry. But she couldn’t cry, because if she did they would hate her. Turning back to the camera she smiled for the formal photo before she was suddenly wrapped up in a warm group hug, light laughter in her ears.

“Merry Christmas!” Her face brightened unlike anything she had every shown before. Her amythist hues looked over at the boy who gave her a proud teethy grin, bright stars in his eyes as he joined in wishing everyone a merry christmas as well. This was the happiest memory that she had ever had, and held onto even though over the years of being alone after they decided not to adopt her as well. Maybe it had been a dream, but it was the warmest most real one she ever had.

[prodigil]

i’d watch your moral panic all day, it’s delightful.

critrole.  /  accepting.  /   @vojvode.

‘  ha  ha,  ‘  sam  offers,  dry,  solid,  just  shy  of  cold  if  his  natural  demeanor  didn’t  betray  him,   ‘  funny  joke.  ‘   still,  he  crouches  before  her,  turns  her  head  in  his  hand.  please,  they  gave  me  --  it’s  a  bad  trip,  i  just  want  to  come  down.  the  girl’s  eyes  are  round,  slaughterhouse  bleak,  a  vague  anxiety  deep  in  her  pupils.  her  hair  is  blond,  her  shirt  cut  around  her  collar  bones  and  pink.  very  innocent  looking,  if  nothing  else.  sam’s  jaw  flexes,  muscle  grinding  as  he  contemplates  his  options.  though  alucard  observes  with  a  removed,  practically  smug  leer,  sam  can  see  the  twitch  of  what  he  thinks  is  disgust  at  the  corner  of   a  teethy  mouth,  which  doesn’t  surprise  him.  she’s  a  vampire,  no  matter  her  cluelessness.  

he  pushes  a  tired  breath  from  his  sinuses,  dipping  his  hand  to  his  belt  loop  to  withdraw  his  machete.   it  isn’t  as  if  alucard  couldn’t  kill  her  himself,  he’s  seen  the  head  wrenched  from  the  shoulders,  the  geyser  of  arterial  blood,  weepy  and  aggressive,  but  this  is  different.  sam  wouldn’t  feel  right  to  leave  it  to  him.  

the  girl  babbles  in  an  incoherent  string,  begging  for  her  life,  becoming  more  and  more  fervent  and  addled.  sam  draws  the  machete  back,  almost  like  a  baseball  bat.  she  cries  out  as  he  swings,  blood  kicking  across  the  hard  lines  of  his  face;  her  head  departs  her  shoulders,  leaving  only  the  clean  ruin  of  her  exposed  neck.  sam’s  grit  teeth  relax, but  the  tension  remains  balled  into  his  hands.  the  muscles  in  her  face  twitch  some  feet  away  from  her  unmoving  body.  

he  swallows  thickly,  turning  away  to  take  a  breath.  ‘  can  you  ..  help  me  clean  up?  ‘