#it was balanced nicely before that was put in

[eufezco]

MEETING REMUS LUPIN𓂃 𓈒 ❀

synopsis – after years in hogwarts being rejected by your everyone there for being too much, you meet remus lupin.

a/n – this is really long but please give it a try 😭

c/w – bullying

requested by @boromoony <3

angst. fluff

the morning of september 1st, the sun was barely rising, but you were already dressed and ready to go with your hogwarts letter tightly in your hands. the excitement made it impossible to sleep at all last night. the moment albus dumbledore himself walked through your door months ago, your world changed forever. the words you’re a witch echoed in your mind constantly.

—all those strange things you’ve noticed about her, —dumbledore said, addressing your parents, —the lightbulbs bursting when she’s upset, how she always seems to know when someone’s at the door before they knock... those aren’t accidents. they’re signs of magic.

before dumbledore left that evening, he reached into his robes and pulled out a small stack of books and put them down on the table in front of you. —these, —he said with a twinkle in his eye, —are just a taste of what you’ll be learning at hogwarts.

you reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing over the covers. magical drafts and potions, one thousand magical herbs and fungi, but it was the third book that completely caught your attention: fantastic beasts and where to find them by newt scamander.

—ah, that one’s a favorite of many, —he said. —the magical creatures of our world are both fascinating and, sometimes, a bit mischievous. that book should keep you entertained until term begins.

the moment you opened the book, you were hooked. the pages were filled with sketches, notes, and stories about creatures you never imagined could exist—bowtruckles, hippogriffs, nifflers... that night, you stayed up late, devouring every word about the beasts and their habitats. could hogwarts have any of these creatures? you flipped through the book again, your heart racing at the possibilities.

so when you stood on the platform 9 ¾, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst and you balanced yourself on your feet out of excitement. newt scamander's book was under your arm, as a kind of lucky charm, during the summer you had memorized as much as you could about the creatures within and you couldn’t help but look at your future classmates, wondering what kind of magical creatures they might be fascinated by.

FIRST YEAR

when the sorting hat called your name and announced you as a slytherin, you didn’t know exactly what that meant, but you loved green, it reminded you of nature, of the forests and trees, and even the slithering snakes you had read so much about. you were so full of excitement, so eager to make friends, hogwarts felt like a fresh start.

you had always struggled with friendships before, feeling like you never quite fit in.

you laughed loud, shared everything on your mind, and tried your best to connect with the girls in your dormitory. you spent your days with them, following the girls around, chatting and laughing. well, they chatted and laughed, because every time you did, they’d look at each other, exchanging glances you couldn’t quite understand. the air would shift, like you had said something wrong, but you had no idea what it was.

you’d share something you thought was funny or interesting and they’d just stare at you, and then their voices would drop into low murmurs. maybe they were into other things like potions, herbology, or the history of magic, maybe they weren't interested in what you had to say about magical creatures.

during lessons, the girls were always so nice to you, especially when it was time for group projects, and you were so naive to even realize that they were just using you. they’d smile at you, pat your shoulder, and invite you to sit with them. it felt like a relief, like maybe you had misunderstood those looks and laughs but when the class ended, they'd leave without a second glance, their arms linked as if you had never been part of the conversation at all.

your first year at hogwarts ended in a bittersweet way. you loved the subjects, truly. you devoured every lesson, every spell, your grades were unmatched, if only broom flying had gone as smoothly, but even that felt like something you could improve with time. on the other hand, you felt the loneliness through the corridors and back to the slytherin dormitory. on the last day of term, the girls in talked about writing to one another over the summer.

but day after day, you checked and no letter came.

SECOND YEAR

the train ride to school felt heavier than the year before. as you walked through the corridors, searching for a compartment, the familiar laughter of your roommates caught your attention. and you sat with them and suddenly all the laughter stopped. not once did anyone ask what you did over the summer.

the more you tried to fit in, the more it felt like you were out of place. you tried to brush it off at first, thinking maybe when you appeared, you just interrupted them or spoken at the wrong moment. but after a while, it became clear that it wasn’t a coincidence. you realized you didn’t have to limit yourself to them. you could meet other people, even outside of slytherin so, you decided to try.

but things didn't go quite well. you overshared about your special interests, waiting for the other people to do the same, but it seemed that your excitement only pushed people further away. you'd dive into conversations eagerly, sharing everything you knew about magical creatures, but they’d blink at you, nod politely, or look for an excuse to leave.

you tried to blame yourself, maybe you were saying too much or maybe you weren’t asking the right questions. you started holding back, answering their questions in shorter sentences, nodding along but it didn’t change anything.

you discovered why no one wanted to be near you, the rumors that had spread far beyond your dormitory. twisted stories, each more absurd than the last—that you talked to yourself late at night, that you were a secret animagus, that you collected dangerous creatures and were plotting to release them in the castle. they made you sound lunatic, something to be avoided. for a moment, you considered fighting back, telling people the truth, but what was the point? you had learned long ago that the more you tried, the worse it became.

maybe there was something wrong with you. maybe you were too much, too strange, too difficult to be around. maybe you didn’t belong anywhere, no matter how hard you tried.

THIRD YEAR

by the third year you stopped trying. you didn’t hang out with them anymore, didn’t laugh too loudly or share too much about the things you loved.

you made a habit of leaving class last and the library became your refuge. you stayed there as long as you could, around books that didn’t judge you, didn’t whisper about you when your back was turned. you poured yourself into your studies and it gave you an excuse to stay out of your room instead of sitting silently on your bed, listening to your roommates complain about how much they hated sharing a room with you.

some of the teachers noticed something was off, but even the ones who suspected something was wrong assumed it was just teenage drama. girls will be girls, you heard professor mcgonagall say.

other teachers just assumed you liked studying. you volunteered for extra work, you stayed late to help clean up after lessons, your essays were always meticulously detailed. so they began giving you extra tasks—not as a punishment, but because they thought you enjoyed it. they called it encouraging your ambition, and you welcomed the work because it kept your mind occupied.

one day, you were sitting near the edge of the lake, your back pressed against a tree, a book about animagi on your legs. you spotted the book on the floor of your favorite section of the library. it wasn’t normal for books to be left lying about yet there it was, dropped by someone in a hurry or someone really careless. you wondered who might have been reading about animagi, a subject that complex.

you’d spent hours flipping through the pages when something small landed in your book. you blinked and looked down. a small twig had fallen from above, landing right between the pages. you reached out to brush it away, but a soft whine reached your ears and it moved.

the twig shuddered and let out another whine, this time a little louder. you stared at it, it wasn’t a twig, it was a tiny creature with thin body and tiny limbs trembling as it struggled to move. a bowtruckle. you gasped fascinated, recognizing the creature instantly from your books. you had read about them, studied their sketches in newt scamander’s book, but you had never seen one in real life. until now.

the little bowtruckle looked up at you with wide, beady eyes. you could see a faint crack along one of its delicate limbs, it was hurt.

—it’s okay, i’m not going to hurt you, —you whispered. carefully, you set the book aside and cupped your hands around it, creating a little shelter for it. it didn’t flinch or run away. —poor thing, —you murmured. you glanced around, you couldn’t see any other bowtruckles and you wondered how this one had ended up here. you pulled out your wand, thinking back to a section of fantastic beasts that described how to soothe and heal bowtruckles. you improvised, muttering a soft episkey and focusing on the tiny crack along its limb. the crack was gone. the bowtruckle blinked up at you, its expression almost... grateful. it climbed onto your finger, its tiny claws gripping your skin. for a moment, you just stared at it and it let you admired it. it felt like magic in its purest form. you stood carefully, and you gently lifted your hand, guiding the little creature back to its home. —here you go, —you whispered softly, holding your finger close to the tree. but instead of jumping, it clung to your finger and its tiny claws gripped your skin. it let out another faint whine, its small body trembling. you froze, unsure of what to do. its wide, dark eyes looked at you, and you could feel its fear. —you’re safe now. this is your tree, isn’t it? —it let out another tiny whimper, it wasn’t just hurt, you realized. it was scared. —do you not want to go back? —you asked softly, as if it could answer you. the bowtruckle gave a tiny shake of its head or at least, that’s what it looked like. —alright, —you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. —you can stay with me for now.

and it stayed with you, not just for the rest of the day, but in a way that you never expected—forever.

you worried that it wouldn’t adjust to school life but, to your amazement, it adapted quickly. during classes, it would hide in your robe pocket or tucked against your sleeve. sometimes it would peek out to watch whatever you were doing. in herbology, its excitement was hard to contain. but potions was another story. the cauldrons’ fumes made it irritable, and once or twice, it sneezed and made your classmates glance around.

for the first time, you didn’t feel so alone.

FOURTH YEAR

through the glass door, you saw them—your roommates. the girls stood in the corridor, their heads tilted toward one another as they whispered and glanced inside. there weren’t many seats left on the train, and you knew they’d see your compartment as the last resort. the bowtruckle ran into your jacket pocket, and you instinctively placed a hand over the fabric to reassure it.

you heard them talk outside, do we really have to sit there? one of them whispered, i don't want to sit with her. a short, awkward silence followed, then, one of them said, the boys’ compartment isn’t full yet. let’s go there instead. and you let out all the air in your lungs, relieved. the bowtruckle jumped out of your jacket and stared through the window again. but all of a sudden, the door opened and two gryffindor boys stood there.

—hi, —one of them said. the bowtruckle ran scared inside your jacket again. —hi, —you answered back, caught off guard. the boy who spoke looked familiar, not someone you’d ever talked to, but someone you’d heard about. people whispered about him in the corridors, pointing him out as he passed. black, was his last name though you couldn’t recall his first name. beside him stood another boy, quieter, his expression neutral. you didn’t recognize him at all. —was that a bowtruckle? —he asked, his tone with curious. —no, —you replied immediately, your voice sharper than intended. you clutched the front of your jacket where it was hidden, your fingers tightening defensively. the boy raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, as he leaned casually against the compartment door, his posture relaxed as if he had all the time in the world to coax the truth out of you. —i saw it, —he said again, his tone teasing but firm. —i don't know what you're talking about. the quieter boy next to him, with brown messy hair, face decorated with some silvery scars, and a book tucked under his arm, looked at his friend and gave a subtle shake of his head. —sirius, don’t, —he said softly, his voice calm carrying a note of exasperation. sirius shrugged, completely unbothered. —what, remus? i'm just being friendly, or maybe i have a thing for mysterious bowtruckle-less compartments, —he said, then he turned his attention back to you, tilting his head slightly. —don’t worry, i’m not going to tell anyone. i think it’s kind of cool, actually. —there’s nothing to tell, —you muttered. sirius nodded slowly. —okay, but if you happen to see a bowtruckle, let us know. we’re in the compartment over there. and just like that, sirius left. the quieter boy stood there, his gaze flickered to the stack of books next to you. he seemed hesitant, his hand halfway to pointing at them before he stopped and cleared his throat. —good books, —before you could say anything else, remus left, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed yourself, like you'd missed an opportunity to actually have a real conversation.

from that moment on, it seemed like something shifted. you’d catch glimpses of remus during breakfast, his shy gaze drifting over to the slytherin table where you always sat alone. at first, you thought it was just coincidence, but it kept happening. subtle moments where you’d look up, only to find his eyes already on you, before he’d quickly look away and distract himself with his toast or whatever book he was reading that day. it wasn’t mocking, like the looks from the girls in your dormitory. it was... different, quiet and curious.

during classes, you began to notice his presence more and more. sitting a few rows ahead in defense against the dark arts, in potions you’d glance across the room and see him stealing quick looks your way and once, during herbology, you caught him staring and when your eyes met, he quickly looked down at his gloves, pretending to busy himself with adjusting the cuffs.

the bowtruckle noticed too and it'd tug on a strand of your hair or nuzzle against your neck, as if sensing the strange mix of confusion and warmth. you were used to catching people’s attention, not for good reasons, it was usually the kind of attention that came with whispered jokes behind your back and judgmental stares but when he looked at you, it was soft and steady, as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle but didn’t want to rush it.

and that made you uncomfortable. not knowing what he was thinking left you second-guessing everything, was he like everyone else, taking his time before making a joke?

one day, as you walked out of your class, clutching your books to your chest, you heard his footsteps behind you. you stopped and turned to him, catching him off guard. the bowtruckle peeked out of your jacket pocket, but you pressed it lightly to keep him hidden.

—quit it, —you said, your words sharper than you intended. remus blinked, taken aback. —quit what? —the looks, —you said quickly, shifting your books in your arms. —you keep staring at me in class, at breakfast. it’s... —you trailed off, searching for the right word, —weird. —i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, —he said, his voice lowering slightly. you pressed your lips together, not knowing how to respond. he wasn’t defensive, he wasn’t laughing or rolling his eyes like the girls in your dormitory. instead, he seemed... sincere. and for some reason, that sincerity annoyed you more than if he’d just been another person to laugh at you. so you huffed and turned on your heel without another word. the bowtruckle peeked out from your pocket, its tiny head tilting, confused by your reaction. it tugged at your hair with a stubborn little click, his leafy fingers curling like he was scolding you.

even after your sharp words, remus couldn’t just look away. he noticed too much—too many little things that others ignored or pretended not to see. he noticed how those girls whispered behind their hands as you walked by, how they sweet-talked you into doing all the work, only to share smirks once they’d left you behind.

no one knows how, but somehow, remus convinced lily to sneak into your room and pour some of that infamous itchy powder into the girls’ beds. the next morning, the slytherin dorm was filled with chaos and the girls spent a couple of days in the hospital wing. for the first time, your room felt like a peaceful sanctuary. the bowtruckle, took full advantage of the empty space and at night, it curled up next to you on the pillow, chirping softly as if sharing secrets only you could understand. the chirps felt deliberate, like it was scolding you in its own quiet language. its tiny fingers tugged at strands of your hair, like it was trying to pull your thoughts into the right direction.

—i know, —you murmured. —i've been awful to him.

the bowtruckle gave a sharper chirp, almost triumphant, as if it had been waiting for you to admit it. the bowtruckle chattered again, softer this time, before curling up against your neck. it had been with you long enough to sense things—your unease, your fear, the way you flinched away from kindness like it was something dangerous. you weren’t used to people noticing you in a way that wasn’t cruel. but remus did. he saw you and you had been pushing him away

you exhaled slowly, —i'll try to be nicer next time.

and you did, you tried to be nicer. when you caught him looking at you in class, instead of just looking away, you pressed your lips together in a small smile, when he held the door open for you, instead of brushing past, you murmured a quiet thanks, even if your voice was barely above a whisper.

one night, you were alone in the library as the bowtruckle scurried up the bookshelf, its tiny claws clicking softly against the wood as it reached for the book you had pointed out earlier. it reached the spine of the book, tugging it out inch by inch until the book hit the floor, and it chirped triumphantly before coming back down and climbing into your pocket.

you picked up the book as you heard the faint creak of footsteps on the wooden floor. your heart jumped, and you froze. from around the corner of the shelf, remus appeared, his eyes slightly widened as they met yours.

—oh, —he said, clearly startled to see you. —sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt. —you didn’t, —you said quickly, trying to sound casual even though your pulse was racing. remus chuckled softly, his laughter. he tilted his head toward the book in your hands, the title unmistakable: “the care and keeping of bowtruckles.” —you know, —he said, —if you’re trying to convince me you don’t have a bowtruckle, maybe carrying around that book isn’t your best defense. you noticed the book he was carrying: "the art of becoming an animagus." —that's dangerous, you know? remus glanced at the book in his hand and then back at you, the faintest trace of a smirk curling his lips. —and having a bowtruckle in your pocket isn’t? you raised an eyebrow. —bowtruckles aren’t illegal. animagi without proper registration, though? pretty sure the ministry has a field day with that. remus chuckled, holding the book up as if in surrender. —it’s just research. i'm not planning on becoming an animagi. you nodded and smirked, looking him up and down. —yeah, i know that. remus frowned. —what's that supposed to mean? —without answering, you simply passed by his side and left him standing there, puzzled.

and from that day on, remus didn’t just glance at you from afar anymore, he started to approach you.

whenever you crossed paths in the corridors, he’d give you a small wave or a warm hi. at first, it caught you off guard because you weren’t used to people greeting you so casually, especially someone like remus, always with his big group of friend who were kind of intimidating. sirius and james would raise an eyebrow at remus or smirk at him when they caught him slowing down in the corridor to greet you. it wasn’t the kind of attention you were used to. one day, you muttered to the little creature, why does he keep doing that?, and it just tilted its tiny head, its bright eyes blinking up at you as if to say, why not?

those waves gradually became more—small, quiet moments where remus would sit across from you at the library, or casually move to your spot during potions to ask you a question about the assignment.

in another occasion, you'd do everything you could to avoid it because you told yourself whatever he was doing, it couldn’t possibly be genuine. but now, you were trying to be different, kinder. so, you’d find yourself replying to his questions during class more often, even offering him advice on the potions he was brewing and when he appeared at the library, you let him sit across from you, even though there were plenty of other empty chairs around.

but doubts remained, people didn’t just decide to spend time with you. it was probably some kind of joke or a challenge his friends had come up with. you could almost hear it now: “bet you can’t get the quiet slytherin to talk to you.” maybe they were all waiting for him to come back with stories about how weird you were, ready to laugh behind your back like everyone else. that thought burned in your chest, making it harder to concentrate.

while everyone else was watching the quidditch match, you sat in the library, flipping through a book on herbology. these were the best moments, when the rest of the school was caught up in something else, and the library was left almost entirely to yourself. just as you turned the next page, you heard footsteps approaching, and remus appeared, carrying a cup of tea. —figured you’d been here, i don’t think you particularly enjoy quidditch, —he said, placing it gently on the table next to you. —thought you could use this. you stared at the cup, your stomach twisting. —why are you doing this? —you blurted out before you could stop yourself. remus looked genuinely confused. —doing what? —this, —you said, gesturing between the two of you. —the tea, the sitting with me, the… the talking. what do you want? his expression softened. —i don’t… want anything, —he said, his voice quiet but firm. —i just thought… well, you seemed like someone worth knowing. your heart clenched at the words, because they didn’t make sense. they couldn’t. you looked down and remus did too. —i think i should leave now. —wait, —the words left your mouth before you could stop them. —do you... want to stay? remus blinked, clearly not expecting that. there was a pause, and for a second, you thought you’d made a mistake, that he’d laugh or make an excuse to leave anyway. —oh, i mean, yeah. if you don’t mind. you swallowed, feeling that unfamiliar warmth in your chest again. —maybe you’d rather watch the match, —you added quickly, as if giving him an out. —that’s fine, really. remus shook his head, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. —i’d rather stay.

after that day, you and remus started hanging out more, you’d catch him waiting for you after class, pretending he just happened to be heading the same way. during lunch, he'd move from the gryffindor table, claiming it was too loud, and sit beside you at the slytherin table, drawing a lot of curious glances.

your conversations grew longer. you’d talk about magical creatures, books you loved, spells you found fascinating and he’d listen, really listen. sometimes, in the middle of an excited rant about a rare magical creature, you’d catch yourself embarrassed by your own enthusiasm but he never seemed annoyed. instead, his expression would soften, confusion flickering in his face as if he couldn’t understand why you’d feel the need to apologize.

the bowtruckle would peek out from your pocket, growing bolder around him. you’d gently nudge it back down with your fingers whenever it got too brave, muttering under your breath, “not now,” or “stay hidden.” it would chirp softly in protest, tugging at the fabric with its tiny claws as if scolding you for keeping it a secret. remus never pushed. he’d occasionally glance at the faint movement in your pocket with a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he never asked.

you sat beside remus under the shade of a tree near the black lake, the exact same tree where you found your bowtruckle. —since we’re friends now, —you started, your voice barely above a whisper, the word friend felt strange in your mouth, —there’s… there’s someone i wanted to introduce you to. —someone? you nodded and looked inside your pocket. —it’s okay, —you whispered softly, your voice more tender than you realized. —you can come out. he’s not gonna hurt you. i… i trust him. it slowly poked his little head out of your pocket, eyeing remus cautiously from the safety of your robes. his dark eyes studied remus for a long moment, trying to figure out if the gryffindor boy could be trusted. —hey there, little guy, —remus murmured, his voice low and calm, offering him a finger so it could climb. it hesitated for a moment but after a beat, the little creature stepped onto his finger, its tiny claws gripping softly as it crawled up his hand. remus smiled. he didn’t pull away, his attention completely on the small creature. —it’s so nice meeting you finally, —he said softly, still looking at the small creature with genuine curiosity. his voice held that familiar kindness. you watched the exchange, feeling a strange sense of relief. it was a small thing, really, showing him the creature you’d kept hidden for so long, but it felt significant, like peeling back a layer of yourself. remus’s gentle reaction, the warmth in his smile as he greeted the bowtruckle like it was something precious, made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

each time you met remus and without fail, after greeting you with a casual, hey, he’d lower his voice just a fraction and add, hey there, little one. how’s it going? at first, it caught you off guard, not used to someone remembering small details, let alone treating them with care. the bowtruckle seemed to enjoy the attention. it'd poke its head out slightly, blinking up at remus with those curious eyes, sometimes chirping softly in response as if answering his question.

so after that, it seemed only fair that he’d return the gesture. he wanted you to meet his friends, not just in passing, not just as faces in the crowded hallways of hogwarts, but really meet them.

your bowtruckle was climbing up remus’s arm with ease, using the folds of his sweater like a ladder. it paused at his shoulder and darted into his hair, playing with his messy curls. you were both having a good time, playing with the little creature. remus cleared his throat and said, almost too casually, —i was thinking… maybe you’d like to meet my friends? —why? —you asked, your voice quieter than you intended. remus blinked, caught off guard, but then his face softened with a small smile, as if he’d expected you to respond that way. —i don’t know… i thought you might like to. they’ve been curious about you, and i think you’d get along. they’re… a lot, but they’re good people. you looked at him, meeting his gaze. —curious about me? remus chuckled, shaking his head. —not in a bad way. they just… they’ve noticed i spend time with you, and, well, they’re nosy. the bowtruckle ran from his hair to your shoulder and gave excited little hops on, its enthusiasm was undeniable, chirping softly as if voicing its own opinion on the matter, which, clearly, was a firm yes to meeting remus' friends. traitor, you muttered to it. —look, we’re hanging out tomorrow in the gryffindor common room, —he said, casually leaning back against the tree, like he hadn’t just invited you to meet his friends, which, in its own right, was an enormous step. —we’re gonna play some board games, talk… you’re welcome to come. no pressure. you picked at a loose thread on your sleeve, your thoughts tangled. you nodded slowly, —i'll think about it.

the next day arrived before you knew it and remus greeted you with a big smile, happy that you finally decided to join them. as you stepped into the common room, the atmosphere was warm, cozy, filled with an easy laughter that echoed off the walls. the bowtruckle nestled comfortably in your pocket, feeling more and more like a little cheerleader with each step you took into the room.

all eyes turned to you—three boys sitting around a table and the only girl, standing up eagerly with a wide grin. she had that spark of excitement in her eyes, and before you could fully process what was happening, she was already moving toward you.

her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite your nervousness, you couldn't help but feel a little lighter in her presence. she reached out to give you a hug, and you hugged her back. lily’s reminded you of the person you were when you first entered hogwarts. the way you were before the walls you’d built around yourself became solid. before the loneliness, the whispers and the isolation. seeing lily now, the way she embraced you so openly, without hesitation and any judgment, made you realize how much you'd changed.

sirius smirked as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes moved to you before narrowing with a mischief. the memory of that day on the train, when he'd caught a glimpse of you and your bowtruckle, seemed to still linger in his mind. he couldn't resist a bit of teasing, just to let you know that you were more than welcome in the group.

james shook your hand with that familiar, confident grin, and peter followed him, giving you a more nervous but warm handshake.

remus watched you from across the table and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw how easily you fit in with the group. the teasing from james and sirius had been lighthearted, playful—nothing malicious—and you handled it effortlessly, laughing along with them instead of retreating into your shell. it was a small victory in his mind.

you found yourself drawn into their orbit more often than you ever expected. it started with small things, lily casually saving you a seat in the library, peter waving you over in the great hall, james sharing his quidditch knowledge with you and sirius tossing playful remarks your way in the corridors. they had their own way of making space for you without demanding anything in return. they didn’t expect you to be louder, funnier, or different. they just… accepted you.

the bowtruckle adjusted too and it grew bold around the group, perching on sirius’s (who was completely fascinated by the creature) head when he wasn’t looking, sneaking sips from james’s pumpkin juice, and even nestling in lily’s hair once.

with remus, everything flowed easily. your hands would brush as you walked side by side through the corridors, he stopped sitting across from you and instead slid into the seat beside you and the space between you grew smaller, yet it never felt suffocating. it felt right, like the closeness had always been meant to happen, you were just catching up to it. when you laughed, he felt like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky, and your conversations deepened, no longer just about magical creatures or classwork but hopes, fears... and that's how he ended up telling you.

you were both curled up on the couch in the gryffindor common room, the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow around you. at this point, you spent more time there than in your own common room, and the gryffindors had grown used to the sight of your green robes among them. it was late, the marauders went to bed, leaving just you and remus, sitting in comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between you. but there was something unspoken. you could feel it—an unease in the way remus fidgeted slightly, in the way his lips parted as if to speak only to press together again and though he hadn’t said it yet, you already knew what he was struggling to tell you. —i have something to tell you. now that you're part of the group, i think you should… you should know something about me, why i sometimes disappear... —remus, —you said softly, not looking at him. —i know. he turned to you sharply, his expression freezing mid-thought. —you… you know? how? —his voice was almost a whisper, low and cautious, as if he feared the answer. his heart felt heavy inside his chest. he imagined this moment countless times, played it out in restless dreams and waking nightmares. in those versions, your face twisted in fear, your steps quick as you turned to leave, your voice sharp with rejection. he’d wake up with a cold sweat, heart pounding, the taste of dread bitter on his tongue. —your scars, —you murmured, —i’ve been studying magical creatures for years. i know how werewolf scars look. there was a pause before he spoke again. —aren't you scared of me? you shook your head. —i’ve been afraid of people for most of my life. but not you. not ever you. —i’ve had nightmares about this, you know? —he admitted suddenly, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. —about telling you. i thought… i thought it’d be the end of everything. you shook your head again, a small smile in your lips. slowly, you moved your hand across the couch until your fingers brushed against his, then gently curled around them. his hand was tense, but he didn’t pull away. —it’s not the end of anything, —you whispered. —not even close.

EXTRA - FIRST KISS

christmas came, and the idea of going back home crossed your mind but then remus mentioned that he was staying at hogwarts over the holidays. the other marauders were all going home, and though he had brushed it off with a casual smile, you could see the truth behind it, he would be alone.

before leaving, james and sirius had cornered remus in the gryffindor common room, arms crossed and identical smirks plastered on their faces. —so, —james said, —you and her are staying for christmas? alone? —how scandalous, —sirius added. remus sighed, rubbing his temples. —it’s not like that. —sure it isn’t, —sirius teased. —mate, you can’t tell me this doesn’t mean anything. you’ve been pining for months, and now you get hogwarts all to yourselves? it’s practically a fairy tale. james grinned. —just don’t forget to thank us in your wedding speech.

remus didn’t remember a better christmas. every day, you woke up a little later than usual and you'd go to the gryffindor common room, where you waited for him, your heart light with anticipation. you shared breakfast and then you'd both rush out into the snow, the cold air crisp on your skin. you'd play throwing snowballs, laughing as the flakes danced around you.

you’d walk hand in hand to hogsmeade, enjoying the quiet of the village while the snow continued to fall gently, almost like magic itself. even one day during the holidays, remus followed you into the slytherin common room for the first time and you couldn't help but laugh at his face when he saw that it was nothing like gryffindor's.

one evening, you were searching in the gryffindor common room for your mischievous bowtruckle. it loved the common room and to hide in it, and its love for mischief often drove you crazy. after scanning the room, you finally spotted it, hanging above you and remus’ heads. a tiny red bow was tied to one of its arms. —for merlin's bear! —you called out, exasperated. —what are you doing up there? come down! you're gonna hurt yourself! remus hummed, the bowtruckle with the red bow reminded him of something. it chirped loudly, as if to say, no way, and made no move to obey you. you sighed while remus finally recalled what the bowtruckle looked like. —i think, hmm... it's playing to be a mistletoe. the bowtruckle chirped again, giving remus the right. your eyes opened wide. remus cleared his throat, his voice low and slightly hesitant as he spoke. —well, i suppose... we don’t have much of a choice, do we? your heart skipped a beat as you shook your head to his question and before you could overthink it, you stepped a little closer to him. you stood face to face for a few seconds as remus's hand brushed gently against your cheek and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. he seemed to hesitate for a second, searching your face as though waiting for permission, for you to say something or do something. but you didn’t need to say anything. in that moment, he closed the distance between you both, his lips brushing yours gently. it was soft, hesitant at first, but it was everything you’d been feeling since the first time you met him, all the small, quiet moments, the shared glances, the laughter, it all came to this shy kiss, and as he pulled away, your heart was already racing. you both awkwardly laughed as the bowtruckle let itself fall from its perch, landing softly on your shoulder. it gave a satisfied chirp, as if pleased with its dramatic entrance. the little creature let the strand of hair that remus had tucked behind your ear to fall right back in front of your face again and it chirped, as if telling remus to do it again and kiss you one more time. you laughed, taking the bowtruckle off your shoulder and keeping him in your pocket while remus pushed your hair out of your face again.

[rats-secret-stash]

Welcome to my BG3 (male romanceable companions focused) ANTI-SIX-PACK RANT /HEADCANONS

[Warning - bad English and possibly incorrect interpretations of characters] [It’s just my headcanons, based purely on vibes. I also want to make it clear that I enjoy and respect various other hcs and portrayals of these characters (and i’ll probably draw them in various ways too). Do not fight me, i’ll cry lol]

WYLL

I’m a firm believer in Wyll being the only male companion with a (fairly) well-defined six-pack

He spent years training and he’s a son of a Grand Duke – so he probably ate well and learnt how to take care of his body properly

I also think he cares about the way he looks (/he’s aware how it can affect the way people perceive him) – so his muscles would be formed partially by practical use (fighting, training) and partially by some conscious muscle-building exercises. In other words, he’s the only male companion I can imagine doing planks and sit-ups in front of his tent lol

However, when I say “well-defined” abs, I mean a nice healthy balance between muscle and fat. None of that dehydrated “flexing 24/7” bullshit

ASTARION

I’m not sure if vampires sustain the body they had before being turned, and i kinda like this idea bc it could explain why Astarion looks like he’s in a good shape when we meet him in Act 1

However, my hc is that his body changes and gets healthier as the game progresses

In Act 1, he should be really thin. And I mean sickly thin. He was starved and tortured for centuries, and I can’t imagine him doing sit-ups in the kennels and working on a six-pack while barely surviving all the physical and psychological torture

After being tadpoled, he finally gets some freedom and is able to eat regularly (especially if Tav/Durge lets him feed on them, which is especially important in Act 2 where there aren’t many animals or alive enemies that he could feed on) – Astarion would get healthier and finally gain some weight

But still, I can’t imagine him doing core workouts in front of his tent. Let my boy rest.

He’s got some muscles (with emphasis on “some” bc that 8 in strength is.. you know), he builds them while doing all that rogue sneaking and killing – but overall he stays slim

Slim BUT (and i’ll die on this hill) he gains some softness. He finally gets that extra roll of fat on his stomach, a little bit of body getting squished by the waistband of his pants. He’s finally healthy and healing

Now we’re getting to the part where I start to scream at Larian for the crime of giving these men six-packs

HALSIN

What do you mean – we get a BIG elf, BIGGER than average elf should be, a man who resembles a BEAR, a man who often QUITE LITERALLY IS A BEAR(animal) – AND YOU DON’T MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE A BEAR(man)??? WHAT DO YOU MEANN??

Putting a high-definition six-pack on this man is a crime.

He should look like a bear, like the hammer-throwing athletes, like Thor in God of War, like a man who can lift a whole ass log while helping build a new shelter for his community. I need him strong. I need him big. I need him huggable. I need him to look like he would survive the winter

He should have strong arms (let’s ignore the fact that he has 10 in strength and that even Shadowheart is stronger than him)

He has muscles, build by physical work and for practical purposes – but they’re hidden under a healthy amount of fat

This man is not hitting the gym to form a six-pack. He’s got shit to do, place to be and people and nature to guide and protect

But, he wouldn’t overindulge in food – he believes in balance and all that, and I think he might view overeating as a waste 

But still, the fat is there bc.. bc it just is, let him eat dammit

GALE

Larian when I catch you. Larian you cowards.

Why does his 8-strength ass have a six-pack. For why. What was the reasonn??

He doesn’t even have to move a finger to do anything, he can magic everything. Fighting? Magic. Having to move the couch in his room? Magic. Telekinesis probably.

This man doesn’t need a six-pack and you can’t tell me he was doing core workouts in his wizard tower – he’s been too busy reading and researching and mastering his spells and romancing a goddess (COUGH or rather being groomed cuz that power imbalance is nasty COUGH)

Also, he mentions food a couple of times, doesn’t he? He can cook, he likes to eat – that’s canon bc i said so. He looks like he enjoys his dessert after dinner. AND HE CAN AFFORD IT. If he can afford all those books, he can afford some snacks too

That being said, if we were allowed to have a fat romanceable man, it would be Gale. He doesn’t need to be slim, he doesn’t need to be ripped. There is nothing in his lore that would justify that (imo) – let his stomach be soft, amen.

(However, I also kinda like the idea of Gale using some sort of illusion spell and that his six-pack is magical lol. Imagine, the rest of the party finding out that this whole time he’s been wasting a spell slot and his concentration ON A SIX-PACK SPELL)

FEMALE ROMANCEABLE CHARACTERS

When it comes to the girls, I can see all of them having well defined muscles and six-packs – they’re all physically strong (or at least stronger than the guys) and they all have a history with fighting/training 

I can also see them without six-packs – especially Shadowheart and Karlach (a bit more on it below)

LAE’ZEL – has the least body fat. I think her muscles should be the most visible. This is the only character who is allowed to have dehydrated muscles, and that's purely because of the way githyanki look

KARLACH – probably didn’t have a chance to rest and eat properly while in Avernus and then while being on the run. I think she could (similarly to Astarion) gain some weight throughout the game – she would finally have a chance to rest, eat and heal a bit. Also, she enjoys a nice meal and some beer

MINTHARA – I have to admit that I don’t know much about her. But she gives me the vibes of someone who likes a routine and takes their physical appearance very seriously (in a military-way, not fashion-way). I can see her building her muscles through fighting but also through purposeful exercises intended to keep her body lean and well built.

SHADOWHEART – she could have a six-pack, I’m down with this hc BUT. I can also see her having more curves and softness. Yes, she had to go through training – but she also can use spells in fights… so it should be fine for her to be softer

In conclusion – let them eat, let them be hydrated, let them look like people and not marvel superheroes

Doodle of Astarion going from starved and newly freed to eating better and getting chubbier

Controversial, but i'm six-pack hater. Out of romanceable male companions only Wyll should be allowed to have defined abs. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Taking Root 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Bucky and Leaf.

Summary: a neighbourly connection might be more than chance.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky cracks his neck as he approaches the large windows. He rubs his eyes as he snarls at the sunlight peering back at him. Steve always leaves the curtains open. Always gone before Bucky drags himself out of bed.

He tugs them shut but stays close. It's not noon yet. She'll be out shortly.

He's not much for television. He tried a few TV series, some movies recommended on that chat, but he just can't keep his mind from running. It's why he wakes up late. Most nights, he doesn't even sleep. This is what keeps him enthralled. There's not much plot, but the main character is fascinating.

He swigs from his mug as the city street chugs from down the alleyway between their apartments. Her balcony is slightly lower. The perfect vantage.

Pathetic. That's what he'd call himself if he wasn't him. All those guys on that discord Steve found are that very flavour. But he's not them. They're all weirdo virgins. He's had plenty of women. More than enough. She's just different. Like him.

As if beckoned by his awakening, she appears. Her railing is curtained with ivy, enough that she doesn't think of modesty. He doesn't mind. She comes out wearing a loose sweater that reads SWEET in large caps and a pair of her frilly panties. He likes those ones, they ride up when she bends over to pick up the watering can.

She goes about her usual routine. She checks the leaves, waters the soil, untangles the overgrown stems, and treats the plants with rot or infestations. The cluster of plants takes up most of the space. She's like a little chipmunk among them.

She finishes and takes the can inside. The sliding door gives a generous view of her place. Inside, she lingers at the window ledge and checks the row of cactuses. He admires her devotion to those plants. She'll haven't the big square planters soon. A few of the tomatoes growing up the posts look close to ripe.

He rubs the cleft of his chin and his stubble makes a bristly noise. He backs away at the unnerving idea. It's too much. Too soon.

Fuck that. He's not that weirdo Jensen. He's been tailing his married boss for three years. Now that's fucking desperate. Besides, they all made a pact, as lame as it was. They're going to make their moves. Either do something or get over it.

Right. Finish the coffee and get your ass together, Barnes. He rinses the mug then goes to make himself human again. Show, brush the teeth, untangle your hair, tie it back, no one will know the different, clothes. Alright. It won't be so bad to get out and it'll get Steve off his back about Vitamin D. Funny, the sunlight only makes him feel worse.

He heads off with a cap pulled down low and his hands in his pockets. There's a shop down the way, they have tables outside full of seeds and little pots. And a coffee shop right next door. He could use a second cup. Maybe a third.

He stops by the display of plants on the corner. There's a big red sign marked 'End of Season Clearance.' Better late than never.

The old woman who runs the shop offers him a shallow box to put his purchases in. Some pansies and violets. He doesn't know. The colours are nice, he guesses. She tells him to get a nice long bed for them and he should be able to have a nice bunch before the frost.

He gets his coffee, agitated as he balances his starters in one arm, then heads home. He gets back to the apartment and leaves the box on the table. He doesn't touch them as he paces around. He goes to the window. She reading in her chair, reclined, one leg bent, sweater rumpling to expose a bit of tummy. He narrows his eyes. He reaches for the binoculars nearby. Oh yeah. He shouldn't be so into it but he can see a little bit of hair sticking out the edge of her panties. It makes him chafe in his jeans.

He backs up as his stomach growls. Fine. He eats grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. He's still groggy. He goes to the window again. He stays there until she's gone. The censor will let him know if she comes back out.

Steve gets home. He's in a rush. His bag clatters off the bench as soon as he lets go of it. He huffs and picks it up, scurrying around. Bucky doesn't ask. He's on his way to that volunteer gig. They both know why he's in such a hurry.

"Have fun," Bucky calls out from the sofa.

"Oh, flowers?" Steve pauses as his soles scuff.

"What's it to ya, punk?"

"Nothing. You know I got allergies, right?" He sneezes as if to make the point.

"Sure I do. They're going on the balcony... tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Steve asks. "Why not-- achooo!"

"Cool off," Bucky warns. "I'll cover them up."

"Ugh, I don't got time," Steve mutters. "See ya. Oh, and you probably don't want the cat chewing on those n-n-neith-- achoo!"

"She's off terrorising the mice," Bucky snorts. "Get out of here, Rogers."

The night rolls by slowly. Hours spent with his eyes open. On the couch until his roommate gets back. Then his bed. Back to the living room. Steve gets up to get ready for work at the museum. Bucky puts Alpine on his chest and scratches her chin. Her box needs changing.

The sunlight softens between the curtains as he's left alone. He lets the cat out with him as he angles the box of flowers through the door. He got the big trays too and soil. He'll replant it like she did hers. Or try to. Steve keeps saying the place needs a bit of home to it. Goddamn it, Steve, shut up.

He puts the flowers on the iron table and sighs. He doesn't know where to start. The squeak of a hinge makes him tense. It's hers. He knows it without looking. She yawns and he trembles, fighting not to look down at her. He can hear her sipping from her porcelain mug. Is it the one with the lillies or the roses?

"Are those Blueberry Swirl Pansies? Those are so pretty."

He doesn't move at first. She's talking to him. He knows it. His chest feels like it's full. He pushes away from the rail and checks the little tag then faces her. He gives a small wave.

"That's what it says, yeah."

He leans against the railing and looks up at him, "I love flowers, if you can't tell." She giggles and it's music in his ears. The kind that sticks in his brain and he'll keep hearing over and over.

"No, I can't," he chuckles. "Wouldn't mind a few pointers. Kinda new at this."

"Well, I'd start by keeping the cat out of them," she points and he turns to find Alpine digging in a pot.

"Right," he mutters. "Thanks."

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 27 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day six: "i can't stand you."

ᰔ pairing: joel miller x reader

ᰔ summary: joel made the mistake of telling you he was having trouble with his generator, and you offered to help.

ᰔ author's note: this was going to have a sweeter ending, but i think with joel, it's a more realistic ending. there's a lot left unsaid, and i've always been a fan of stories like that. a little angst as a treat ✨

ᰔ content warning: jackson!joel, grouchy joel being a bitch but he makes up for it- kind of, slight angst with a happy-ish ending, reader gets small cut/mention of blood, strong language (joel and reader are not afraid to drop an f bomb) reader has non-descriptive hair (enough for joel to put his hand in)

"For the love of god, can you hold the flashlight still?" Joel looked back with a scowl on his face. He damn near dropped the wrench on his foot as you shifted the flashlight again.

"I'm sorry! Jesus," you muttered the last bit under your breath. You held the light still, a bit more rigid than before.

Joel knew better than to tell you that he had to fix something in the house. He loved you more than anything— you had built a nice life together in Jackson. For the end of the world, you two had a welcoming home and a good relationship. It was the best anyone could ask for in this post-apocalyptic world.

You had brought him peace and solace in ways he hadn't expected. He liked to think he did the same for you, in his own ways. You two complimented each other, an odd balance others in Jackson chose not to question.

That being said, you were not helpful when it came to handy work. Joel preferred to work on his own, or ask Tommy for help if he really needed the extra hand. Not that he liked the idea of another hand in the pot, but he knew when he needed another set of hands.

When the generator shit out at the end of the last ice storm, Joel made the mistake of mentioning to you that he needed to talk to Tommy about fixing it before the next storm came through. When you got that look in your eyes, excited to jump on the chance to help, he knew it wasn't going to end well. Despite knowing that, he knew it would be worse to tell you no.

Now, you moved the flashlight all over and talked through the whole process of him running diagnostics. While it was endearing that you were eager to help, Joel couldn't focus on what was in front of him. He had changed for the better thanks to you, but old habits die hard— or Joel Miller's bark was still just as sharp as his bite.

"Just hold it still," Joel gruffed. "The sooner I can see what I'm doin', the sooner it'll be finished." He wanted the whole thing to be over and done with, to get back to anything but this.

"I'm doing my best, Joel. I'm trying to help," you huffed. What had crawled up his ass was beyond you, but you weren't going to sit and let him bitch at you.

"Well your tryin' ain't good enough. Hand me the damn flashlight." Joel held his hand out, an expectant look on his face. The two of your stared at each other, a silent battle for dominance. Eventually, you conceded and shoved it in his hand.

"God forbid I try to fucking help you. See how much help I am when you need it the most," you snapped. "I can't stand you sometimes."

"Better find a goddamn chair then." Joel dismissed you with a wave of the hand before he turned back to the generator. He ignored the sound of a stomp and the door that slammed behind you.

It was well over two hours before Joel finally climbed out of the basement. It only took him an hour to fix the generator, but he wasn't sure how to approach you. After these pissy little fights you two had, there were two situations that followed. One apologized and the other begrudgingly accepted. By the time dinner rolled around, it was water under the bridge and left in the past. The other? A battle of silence and cold shoulders for the next few days.

After the chair comment, Joel braced himself for the silent treatment and a few sleepless nights on the couch. He was quiet as he walked towards the kitchen. He heard the radio playing, along with the sounds of pots and pans clanging.

He lingered in the doorway as he watched you. Even from where he stood, he saw the way your mind raced without you saying a word. As he opened his mouth, he watched you stop peeling a potato and cuss under your breath.

"Fuck! Goddamnit!" You ran your hand under the sink water. It had taken everything in you to remain calm after Joel's whole... thing, whatever had possessed him in the basement. The chair comment had you seeing red, but you tried to let it go as you prepped for dinner. Working on the meal was cathartic, and your anger had come down some.

Slicing your finger, though, was the straw that broke the camel's back. Another thing you had fucked up— something else to add to the list of bullshit you couldn't do.

Once the blood had eased up for the moment, you finally let a few tears slip. Your chest felt heavy with anger and regret, along with every nasty feeling in between. Joel still hadn't returned, and you knew it was your fault. You knew well enough that you should have just let Tommy help him.

Lately, you felt as if you hadn't offered much to Joel. You did some things, sure. Kept everyone fed, worked hard to make sure all ailments were healed— you pulled your weight where you could. It just... it didn't feel like enough. Of course, you offered him your love and support, but it didn't feel like you did your part. You thought lending a hand with the generator was a step in the right direction, a way to prove that you were capable of more in Joel's eyes.

"Let me see it." You jumped at Joel's sudden presence, the way he brushed against you to take your hand in his. You stayed quiet but still let him look your hand over.

"You saw that?" You asked. Your voice was thick with tears, which had yet to stop. The cut wasn't bad— just a nick and a bit of blood. Nothing a bandage wasn't able to fix.

"I did." Joel held your hand as he grabbed for the first aid kit you kept in the junk drawer. It was small, only various sized bandages and a few crumbled alcohol wipes that you had scavenged. He grabbed for a bandaid and ripped the paper open with his teeth. You watched as he bandaged you right up.

There was a beat of silence that hung thick in the air. Neither of you knew what to say, how to concede after that little spat that left you both in a sour mood.

Finally, Joel broke the silence as he cleared his throat.

"I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry for snapping," Joel sighed. "Didn't deserve that." He shook his head. His hand still held yours, careful of the fresh wound.

You looked down, unsure of what to say. Your cheeks were soaking wet, and it made it hard to string together the right thing to say. Finally, after another long beat, you met his gaze.

"I didn't, and I know you meant it when you said it." Before Joel cut in, you stopped him by continuing. "But I know I shouldn't have offered to help. I'm sorry for putting myself where I shouldn't have." You leaned against the counter as you spoke. One thing about you, something that Joel appreciated, was your frank nature.

"I just, I have a particular way of doing things. Havin' someone else there just makes me uneasy. Makes me too aware of every move I make," Joel admitted. It took time and effort on both of your parts to get to a point where you were transparent with each other.

"I know that," you assured him. "At least a little bit, anyways. I'm sorry for makin' it harder. I just thought I was helpin'." Joel tugged your hand and pulled you into a hug. He tangled a hand in your hair as he held you close.

"You were tryin', and that's what matters. I love you, darlin'." There was still a pit of unease in your stomach, but you knew it was best to drop it. Navigating what you two had took work, and sometimes that meant dropping the subject. Joel did the best he could for you, and you did the same for him.

"I love you too."

Maybe the fairytales you had dreamed of when you were younger had the perfect ending and the ride off into the sunset. Then again, they didn't exactly include zombies and the end of the world. As you grew older and harder around the edges, you realized loved looked different. Now, it was give and take— no sunsets to gallop towards. It may not have been perfect, but what you had with Joel was good.

He loved you, and you loved him. That's what mattered most, right?

[magnagaruzenmon]

Hybrid Theory III/0

New Neighbors

Tags: threesome, hybrid,

A little birthday gift for our collab writer who loves Sakura and Mina

Koby had just finished his morning workout when he heard the commotion outside his apartment. He grabbed a towel, slinging it over his shoulder as he opened his door to investigate.

Two girls stood in the hallway, surrounded by boxes, a few suitcases, and what looked like a partially unwrapped gaming chair. One of them—a petite woman with dark cat ears poking through her hair—was attempting to balance a heavy-looking box on one knee while typing something on her phone. The other—a woman about the same height with strikingly pale feathers dusting her arms—sighed, adjusting her grip on a large suitcase.

Koby leaned against his doorframe, raising a brow. “Moving in or staging a takeover?”

The cat hybrid’s ears twitched as she looked up. “Oh, hey. You live next door?”

“Yeah,” Koby said, crossing his arms. “You two need help, or are you just gonna wrestle that box all day?”

The owl hybrid sighed in relief. “That would actually be amazing,” she said. “I’m Mina, and this is Sakura. We just moved in, and, well… we underestimated how much stuff we have.”

Sakura flashed a grin. “More like she underestimated how many Lego she owns.”

Mina shot her a look before turning back to Koby. “Excuse me Mrs game addict. Anyway, if you’re free, we could use an extra pair of hands.”

Koby glanced at the mess of boxes, then back at the two. “Yeah, alright. But you owe me dinner.”

Sakura smirked. “That a move, neighbor?”

He chuckled. “Nah, just a fair trade.”

Mina shook her head with a small smile. “Deal.”

Just Being Nice… Right?

Koby smiled before rolling up his sleeves, helping the girls move the rest of their stuff in. He was surprised by how nerdy they were. It all started when Sakura noticed his Tifa shirt and practically gasped.

“Oh, are you a gamer?” she asked, her cat-like eyes sparkling with interest.

Koby nodded, and before he could say anything else, Sakura’s entire face lit up like a kid in a candy store. “No way! Okay, what’s your take on FF7 Remake? And don’t tell me you’re one of those people who hates it because they changed stuff.”

Koby blinked, thrown off by her enthusiasm. “I mean… it’s great. The combat system’s fun, and I actually like the changes.”

Sakura beamed, stepping closer. “Finally, someone with taste!” She playfully nudged his arm, lingering a little longer than necessary. “You’re gonna love having us as neighbors, Koby.”

Before Sakura could start a full-on discussion about the entire Final Fantasy franchise, Mina, ever the composed one, put a hand on her shoulder. “Later,” she said with an amused smile. “We need to finish unpacking before you start interrogating him.”

Koby chuckled, shaking his head as he lifted another heavy box. As he worked, he found himself liking them more and more. They were easy to talk to, charming in different ways—Mina had this quiet, refined grace, while Sakura was all energy and playful mischief. They made the normally dull task of moving strangely enjoyable.

Still, despite their friendliness, Koby reminded himself to stay cool. He’d given up on dating for a while now—ever since Jeewon, the sweet cow hybrid he’d been talking to, told him she had fallen for a wildebeest hybrid named Isaac. It wasn’t like she had rejected him in a harsh way—she was lovely about it, actually—but Koby had just gotten tired of gearing up for romance only to have it fizzle out. He figured life as a lone wolf… or, well, lone stag-alligator-African hound wasn’t so bad.

But his body? His instincts? Those weren’t as easily convinced.

Every time Mina bent down to pick something up, Koby had to look away and take a deep breath, forcing himself to think about anything but how smooth her movements were, how her thighs looked in those leggings, how her soft feathers framed her body just right—stop.

And then there was Sakura, who stretched way too often for Koby’s sanity. Every time she raised her arms, exposing that toned midriff, he felt his pulse quicken. She was teasing him, right? No, no, they’re just friendly girls. Stop overthinking it.

Despite trying to stay composed, Koby couldn’t help but feel their presence in a way that made his instincts stir. It wasn’t just their looks—it was their personalities, their casual touches, the way they included him so naturally, as if he had already been part of their world.

As they wrapped up, Sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Koby with a smirk. “You know, you’re kinda great to have around. Maybe we should ‘accidentally’ break some furniture just so you have to come help us again.”

Mina, sitting on one of the now-unpacked chairs, took a sip of water and gave him a teasing glance. “Or we could just invite him over instead of causing unnecessary damage.”

Koby laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “You two are… something else.”

“Is that a good something else?” Sakura purred, stepping just a little closer.

Koby’s brain short-circuited for half a second before he coughed and looked away. “I—uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Mina exchanged a knowing glance with Sakura, a small, satisfied smirk on her lips.

By the time they finished, Koby felt like he was on the verge of going into rut just from spending an hour with them. But, like a good neighbor, he held firm.

Barely.

After they finished moving the last box into place, Sakura flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Finally! Time to eat.”

Mina, ever the practical one, was already scrolling through her phone. “I’ll order something for all of us. Koby, you like Korean food, right?”

Koby blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh—yeah, of course.”

“Great,” Mina said smoothly, already tapping away. “I’ll get samgyeopsal, some kimchi stew, and a few extra sides. That should be good.”

“You guys don’t have to do that,” Koby said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sakura grinned. “Oh, but we want to. Think of it as payment for your hard work.” She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm as she added, “Besides, we like spoiling people we like.”

Koby felt his throat go dry. He wasn’t sure how to take that comment—was she just being nice, or was that flirting? It had to be just her personality… right? Mina was the more reserved one, and even she had been oddly attentive toward him all evening.

Realizing he needed a moment to collect himself before he said or did something dumb, he quickly stood. “I, uh—I should shower. Worked up a sweat moving all that stuff.”

“Take your time,” Mina said with a knowing smile.

As Koby disappeared into his apartment, Sakura stretched out across the couch, staring at the ceiling with a pleased hum. “He’s so into us.”

Mina chuckled, sipping her water. “Obviously.”

Sakura rolled onto her side, tail flicking lazily. “You think he even realizes it yet?”

Mina smirked. “Not a chance. He’s overthinking everything.”

Sakura laughed. “Poor guy. We’re probably driving him insane.”

Mina leaned back in her seat. “He’s sweet, though. Strong, helpful… and did you see the way he was checking us out when he thought we wouldn’t notice?”

Sakura purred. “Oh, I noticed. And I liked it.” She twirled a strand of her hair, then gave Mina a curious glance. “So, what do you think?”

Mina arched a brow. “About?”

“Sharing,” Sakura said bluntly, her smirk widening. “You know, if it comes to that.”

Mina exhaled, considering. “It’s… not the worst idea.”

Sakura grinned. “You mean it’s a great idea.”

Mina rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree.

Meanwhile, in his own apartment, Koby stood under the steaming shower, hands braced against the tiled wall as the water cascaded down his back.

He was screwed.

Not just because of how insanely gorgeous both Mina and Sakura were, but because of how easily they’d slipped past his defenses. He liked them. A lot. And they were so casual about being close to him—teasing him, touching him, joking like they’d known each other for years.

But were they flirting?

Were they just being friendly?

Was he reading way too much into everything?

Koby let out a groan, running a hand down his face.

This was gonna be a problem.

After showering Koby heads back to Mina and Sakura’s apartment. He arrived to see them already eating dinner. Koby happily joined them and sat in the open chair.

Koby sat across from Mina and Sakura at the small dining table in their new apartment, picking at the takeout they had ordered. The place still had that just moved in feel—boxes stacked in corners, some furniture not quite in place—but the atmosphere was warm. Maybe too warm, Koby thought, shifting slightly as he tried to focus on his food instead of the two stunning hybrids sitting across from him.

Mina, elegant as ever, ate with quiet grace, while Sakura had already stolen half of Koby’s fries when he wasn’t looking. They made an interesting pair—one reserved, one mischievous—but both were too good at getting under his skin in the best possible way.

As Koby reached for his drink, Mina’s sharp silver eyes flickered toward his forearms. He paused mid-sip, following her gaze. He realized too late that the sleeves of his hoodie had slipped up, revealing faint, almost iridescent scales running along the underside of his arms. Mina, ever composed, simply tilted her head, but there was something calculating behind her expression.

“Your antlers are interesting,” she said, voice smooth as silk. “But I have to ask about… the scales?”

Koby stiffened. He had been through this conversation before—usually with people gawking at him like a science experiment gone wrong. But Mina’s tone was different. Curious, not judgmental. He exhaled and set his drink down.

“I was part of the Ginis experiments,” he admitted, keeping his voice even.

Mina’s gaze didn’t waver. “Which ones?”

Koby blinked, surprised at the direct question. Most people either stammered awkwardly or asked what the hell does that mean? He hesitated before answering, “The trybrid ones.”

For the first time, Mina’s lips quirked into something almost resembling a smirk. “Huh,” she mused. “I researched those a while back.”

Across the table, Sakura choked on her drink, quickly covering her mouth as she turned to Mina with a knowing look. She mouthed, You’re such a tease.

Koby caught the exchange but didn’t quite understand its full meaning. What did she mean, researched? And why was Sakura looking at her like that? His heart was already working overtime just being near these two, and now Mina was watching him like a predator sizing up her next meal.

“You must be… interesting, then,” Mina continued, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze never leaving his. There was something too intentional about her voice, the way it dipped slightly in amusement, the way her piercing eyes seemed to pick him apart.

Koby swallowed hard, feeling heat creep up his neck. Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink it. Don’t—

Sakura, barely holding back laughter, nudged him with her foot under the table. “Careful, Koby. Mina’s got a thing for unique hybrids.”

Mina just sipped her drink, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Oh, I’m so screwed.

Koby pushed back his chair abruptly, clearing his throat. “I, uh, gotta hit the bathroom real quick.”

The moment he was out of sight, he leaned over the sink, gripping the edges as he took a deep breath. His reflection stared back at him, flushed and flustered.

“Pull yourself together, man,” he muttered. “They’re just being nice. That’s all.”

But deep down, something primal in him wasn’t so sure.

Koby practically fled to the bathroom, closing the door behind him a little too quickly. Mina and Sakura watched him go, the sound of the faucet running soon following.

Sakura immediately turned to Mina, a sly grin stretching across her face. “You are such a tease,” she whispered, leaning in.

Mina took another sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. “I was just making conversation.”

Sakura snorted. “Please. ‘Oh, I researched trybrids a while back~’” she mimicked in an exaggerated version of Mina’s smooth, sultry tone. “You might as well have said, ‘I think you’re fascinating and I’d love to see how you—’”

Mina gave her a slow, unbothered blink. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll make sure your alarm mysteriously fails to go off next time we have morning schedules.”

Sakura just laughed, stealing another one of Koby’s fries. “Come on, though. You totally enjoyed watching him squirm.”

Mina didn’t answer right away, instead idly tracing the rim of her glass. “He’s… interesting,” she admitted finally. “And he clearly doesn’t know how to handle being pursued.”

Sakura wiggled her brows. “So you are interested.”

Mina glanced toward the hallway, where the faint sound of water still ran. “Maybe,” she murmured. “But I also like seeing how long he can last before he realizes what’s happening.”

Sakura leaned back in her chair, smirking. “I give him another week, tops.”

Mina hummed in thought, tapping a manicured nail against the glass. “You’re underestimating him.”

Sakura grinned, tail flicking playfully behind her. “Wanna bet?”

Mina merely smirked, taking another slow sip of her drink.

In the bathroom, Koby splashed cold water on his face, staring hard at his reflection. They’re just being nice. They’re just being nice. They’re just—

His gut told him otherwise.

Sakura grinned, flicking her tail. “I give him another week, tops.”

Mina tapped her nails against her glass, considering. “You’re underestimating him.”

Sakura snorted. “Please. He’s practically short-circuiting every time you so much as look at him.”

Mina tilted her head slightly, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “That’s because he’s waiting for a clear sign.”

Sakura blinked, her ears perking up. “Oh?”

Mina leaned in just slightly, her lips curling at the corners. “If he won’t take the hint… maybe we should just give him one.”

Sakura’s eyes widened before she broke into a slow, mischievous grin. “Now that sounds fun.”

The two exchanged a glance, silent agreement passing between them just as the bathroom door creaked open.

Koby stepped out, rubbing the back of his neck, still visibly flustered but trying to play it cool. “Uh… sorry about that. Just needed a second.” He is surprised when he notices the girls are not at the table. He looks around and finds them relatively easily.

he finds the duo sitting on their couch in their lingerie. Koby blinks repeatedly staring at the duo as they look at him expectantly. Mina purses her lips giving him her best “fuck me” eyes

“Is this a clear enough sign for you?” Koby felt his instincts take over as he lifted his shirt over his head.

Mina smiled at him, a little too sweet. “Oh, don’t worry, Koby.” She rested her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Sakura hid her grin behind her glass, while Koby stood there, blinking like a deer in headlights.

He was so screwed.

He approached Sakura first who’s wide eyes and seductive look pushed him to her first. She smiled as she eyed him possesively.

Koby kissed Sakura as her arms wrapped around him uncontrollably she clawed into his back. Koby groaned and glared at Sakura. Sakura was lost in the moment saying “you are mine,” repeatedly. Koby turned to face Mina who merely smiled before bringing him in for a kiss, but then he felt Mina’s gaze and presence . It was soft at first until it quickly became overwhelming. His heart rate tripled silencing the Deer and bringing out the hound and the gator. He turned to Mina who was fully nude. Her milky white skin shined in the evening light. She smiled before beckoning him to her. Sakura pouted as Mina pounced (metaphorically) on Koby. She sank her talons into him as she cooed into his ears.

“Make me yours,” she encouraged and the predator listened he brought Mina in for an intense kiss that left them both breathless. Mina whined with pleasure as she wrapped her delicious pale creamy thighs around his waist as she followed suit with her arms. She brought Koby in close and lightly nipped him.

Koby enjoyed the love bite but found it strange because avian hybrids typically don’t mark. He couldn’t think on it too deeply as Sakura whispered in his ear. “Stuff her slutty pussy with your cock,” Koby’s mind blanked as he gave into his urges. Without warning he slammed his cock into Mina. She groaned as his cock kissed her excited womb. Mina could barely breathe as Koby fucked the air out her little body. Sakura watched as her roommate lost her mind only focused Koby fucking her into oblivion.

Mina’s breath hitched as Koby bottomed out again.

“You’re so big inside of me,” Mina moaned as Koby kept railing her Sakura tired of waiting began to play with herself watching the two while spouting words of encouragement to Koby and Mina

“You two are so hot when you fuck,” she moaned as she gave into her own pleasure. Mina moaned intoxicated by the euphoria before she came. Her walls clenched Koby as her breath ran even more ragged as she took him in and out of her.

When she calmed down finally she looked at Kolby. She still saw the lust in his eyes then turned to Sakura who was moaning how close she was. She leaned into Koby and whispered “fucking finish her.” Koby groans as his cock hardens harder at the thought, before walking over to Sakura who’s a hopeless moaning mess. Her eyes are shut so she’s surprised when she’s railed by Koby’s cock. Overstimulated Sakura cums all over Koby in that instant. Mina watches with predatory lust and appreciation.

“You know what Kura? I think we can share him.” Mina says sensually

[eddieswritinghell]

Ghost x Reader: Sharing Sweets

The reader shares an offering of chocolate with Ghost.

While carefully balancing the heavy box in one arm, you unlock Ghost's room door with the other. The man inside looks up from his bed, from which he was watching a video of something on his laptop. Simon gently closes the laptop and shifts off the bed to take the box from you without so much as a word.

“Is there any reason you're bringin’ a giant box in ‘ere?” He seems a bit skeptical,

“It's for us!”

“Ah, thank you for clarifying.” Ghost side eyes you as he sets the box down, he quickly slips a knife from who knows where with a flick of his wrist. The slide of the knife along the tape is smooth, no snagging, but impressive considering you had just tried to open the box with a pair of old, rusted scissors with no luck.

“Just open it. You'll Like it.”

The man still seems a bit suspicious of the random action, but he trusts you. Which is evident by him carefully opening the flaps of the box to reveal a rather large assortment of candy, sweets, and biscuits. “What in the…”

“The little sweet shop on the corner back home, you know the one, had an Anniversary sale and because the owner is so sweet to me, said I could fill a box with what I wanted for twenty quid. I got some of my favorites and some of yours and some I think we would both like if we tried them out.”

“This is… a lot.”

“Yeah… I only filled it halfway because I felt guilty but the sweet older woman who owns the store kept telling me to take more and even kept throwing stuff in there as well. I've known her since I was a child, she's practically a second grandmother to me.”

“That's very kind of her.”

“It is!” You reach into the box and pull out a bag of what appeared to be some sort of salted chocolate. The bag is quickly opened and a chocolate is held out to Ghost. “Take it. Tell me what you think.”

He takes a small bite of the chocolate once taking the sweet from your hand. He hums in approval before tossing the rest in his mouth. “Pretty good. The caramel has a really nice softness.” A small smile paints his face. You knew he liked chocolate, so upon mentioning this fact to the old woman at the store, she had eagerly put some of her top sellers in the box.

“I swear the woman is magic with her recipes and skills.”

Ghost chuckles and snags another chocolate from the bag before popping it in his mouth. “She must have good taste.” He speaks with a smirk forming on his face.

“That she does.”

As always, requests are open :)

[floralscented]

Hii! I really love your stanford!dean drabbles, soooo may I request a stanford dean fic with a shy!reader?? (kinda like nerd x jock dynamic) in which dean is trying to pursue reader but reader isn't sure if he really means it bc of his personality (mostly bc he is really flirty) and all with a bit of angst but also a lot fluff ofc (sorry if it's a bit cliche I'm a whore for this trope😭😭😭)

Btw hbd!!!!💝💝💝

thank u for the happy bday omfg 😭 it's still two months away unfortunately. LMAOFIDKDJ BUT I AM PUTTING THIS IN MY BACK POCKET TO REMEMBER THAT DAY !!!

anyways ahem let me lock in.

it's not that dean didn't have game, it seemed to be that dean had too much game. you didn't like when he leaned against the doorframe you were in, posing in that way that girls liked; ankles crossed, arms crossed, head tilted down to look at you. you didn't like the arm stretch pose over the top of the doorframe either. if he wasn't so attuned to how your face lit up in a blush when he was around, he would have been convinced that you just hated doors or something.

but no, you could talk to your friends just fine, it was just─ him. which is a hard pill to swallow in of itself, but some truths just couldn't be changed.

he'd make effort too, you know. really, desperately, lay it on thick to play the nice guy, the boy next door you seemed to want. it was hard, since that was the role he'd worked so damn hard to break out of, but he'd do it. there was something about the chase that had him coming back to you, even though the game wasn't nearly as fun for you.

dean didn't think, really, was the main point. didn't think about how intense this must have been for you, didn't think about the possibility of you just ─ not liking him back? didn't think at all.

he's outside your dorm to walk you to class. a habit for him, and an irritation for you. you never could get yourself to argue with him about it, though, the words always lodged in your throat. how did you, politely, tell a football guy to get fucked? he'd take it some other way. you knew football guys, and specifically, knew this one.

dean snatches your backpack from your arms before you can shrug it on, carrying it in front of him like a little purse. maybe, you kept him around for that, too. schoolbooks were heavy, okay?

but it's the little twitch in his mouth that seems to break you. "can you just... find someone else already?" you've come to know that smile as his only preliminary warning before he says something that burns your cheeks red and almost makes you believe that this pursuit is genuine, and not just to get in your pants.

dangerous smile. those dimples could just about make anyone's panties drop ─ you'd know, you were a self proclaimed part of that statistic.

dean actually looks taken aback, slowing his steps, and you'd almost feel relieved if you didn't feel so sick that you'd hurt his feelings. and, he had your backpack, so now it was awkward. now you'd have to snatch it back before you could scramble away.

"find someone else?"

in his head, he was breaking down your walls. slowly, but surely. and here was this painstaking reminder that every wall he broke was just replaced by another.

you stare at him for a long few seconds, the halls of your building thankfully empty, except for the two of you and every question hanging in the balance.

"i don't want someone else, sweet girl," he says, his face contorted in a wince like he actually was hurt by the suggestion at all. you recoil, too, but you don't back down. quiet as hell but a viper when you had to be. backed into this conversational corner, you had to be. "hell, you think i've been chasin' you around this whole damn campus because i'm waitin' to get bored of it and start somewhere else?"

he acts like it's an unreasonable suggestion. boys like him didn't go for the girls in the bleachers. boys like him liked short skirts and pom poms. at least, that's what the movies taught you. what was he going to do next, take off your glasses and tell you that you really were beautiful, who would have guessed?

when you don't answer, dean seems to shrink back a little. he shrugs his shoulders to adjust his backpack on his back, and yours that, at some point in these ticking minutes, he had slipped on his front. "believe me, honey, this is torturous for me, too."

"torturous?" you shake your head, internally wincing at how, of all of what he said, that was the thing you latched onto. "so go find─"

"someone else. i heard you the first time." dean shakes his head, clicking his tongue after another strenuous break of silence. "it's torturous," he says slower now, like you're the one who needs to be talked in gentle words to, not him, who's seen more concussions than he's seen his family, "because you are a breath away, and yet you are so damned determined to keep that breath between us. because you seem so weary, and strung up, like at any moment, i'm gonna pull the rug away and tell you that this was some joke, and you're gonna fall on your ass and feel awful."

well. it's not like he was wrong. but now the embarrassment is worn so prominently in the pink of your face, and those awful feelings he brought up are right there, if only because you'd been so convinced that he was a terrible guy without having any sort of evidence to back it up.

dean takes a step forward, not like approaching a wounded animal but rather like he's approaching a feral beast determined to snap at his fingers. "all i want," he breathes, shaking his head, palms up in some miniscule effort of surrender, "is to buy you a coffee."

"coffee," you echo back to him. you can't help it. you glance at his double backpack situation and you have to press your mouth together to keep from laughing. maybe dean wasn't lying about this, or everything else. would someone really willingly make themselves look so silly just to keep up a ruse?

dean nods. "coffee," he says, and he notices, of course he notices, that dazzling smile of yours. he's a strong man, but he can be made into something so weak with nothing but a pair of lips and glimmering eyes. "coffee yes?"

"you have class in ten minutes."

a shrug. two backpacks lift and fall. "conveniently, i've forgotten for the next forty five minutes about that class. whoops."

you have to look away. his eyes are so earnest and he is so surprisingly silly when he's not spouting cheesy pickup lines and doing stupid poses in doorframes that you almost cannot handle to face the full onslaught of his expression. again, he asks, "coffee yes?"

you huff out a laugh. what did you have to lose, really? you'd been planning to drown in classwork for a while at the library. coffee would definitely be needed to survive that.

with an exaggerated sigh, you manage to stutter out a, "coffee yes," if only so you could see that smile on his mouth again. you were weak, too, in that regard.

and so you got coffee with the football boy, and again the next day, and suddenly it wasn't such a scary thought to hold the football boy's hand.

[ask-codeearasure]

All of the above and more. And yet again, Color's choices on how to act with Killer despite how he may feel is very different in comparison to how Dream and Swap have approached Killer in the past.

Color took the time to get to know Killer away from the battlefield. That is one of the most important factors that went into their bond, because Color was invested in Killer as a person, not because he was a threat. This interest was the first thing Color did right to put himself in Killer's good graces, something Dream and Swap didn't do, because... really... how and where the fuck do you think they were going to start? What biases and ideas do you think they'd have about Killer when the only impressions they've gotten from this guy is that he's trying to merk them off the census every time he shows up? There is only so much one can do with that, and it's not like Killer had every intention to clear the air for them, so to speak.

Now here's the thing. I'm not specifying any of this to throw Dream and Swap under the bus for their efforts, because for some reason I'm seeing people mention Dream would have sucked in approaching Killer because he didn't see him as a person when that part was never fucking true. Dream has to balance a lot in the multiverse. He has so many problems weighing him down that only he can solve, and the idea that he wouldn't try, or that Killer is dehumanized in his mind, or that he'd have ulterior motives for trying is bastardization of his character.

Hell, do you not remember the comic Rahafwabas made of Dream finding Killer in a blank space with his cats and being afraid of him when he approached, thinking he was going to shank him or something? Dream has been threatened, harmed, and mauled by Killer more than enough times to fear more for his own safety in this moment than anything else, even though he did want to reach out regardless of that.

Dream wouldn't succeed in pacifying Killer. I agree with you there. But the reasons why that is are so much more complicated and need more context from both Dream and Killer's sides to decide if Dream is fucking useless in every regard for his case or not. Dream could help Killer to some degree, I believe, but in no means is he stable enough to be a consistently reliant source of security and support like Color is.

Dream, in isolation, is a character that is constantly moving and because of his aura and the life he leads because of Corrupted!Nightmare, he can barely have friends in general. He can't trust anyone, and he can't stay anywhere for too long. Looking to Dream to help Killer would be negligent of the influences Killer himself is going to need in order to recover in the best way possible.

I'm pissed at this fandom in general for jumping on every petty reason to be a cunt about anything at all, especially for cases like Dream. So let me get it out of my system before you decide to take this personally.

Now with Swap, the problem with him is Rahafwabas's version of him had a very Steven Universe-ish understanding of kindness and forgiveness and redemption. It's very basic, it lacks nuance, and most of all, his efforts in not only not listening to Killer and forcing him to "feel things again" were all works out of pure fucking child-like ignorance. It doesn't help that this version of Swap was indeed drawn as and written with childish behavior in mind. He resembled Blueberry more than he did Swap in general.

On top of that, given how dismissive early fandom was about any version of Swap!Sans and their intelligence, Rahafwabas's version was quite...

Well, there's no nice way to say this. He's fucking stupid. He actively goes out of his way to interact with characters who have hurt him in the past over and over and over again, characters like Killer and Error who could have fucking killed him and Swap was just lucky that he survived each encounter. No matter what happens to this guy, he doesn't seem to fucking learn his recklessness won't get him as far as he wants.

His idea of kindness is not universal. His ideas of redemption, forgiveness, and recovery, are not universal. Swap did Killer a cruelty by not considering that, because even though he was annoyingly insistent in helping Killer however he could and his intentions were in the right place, his impulsive and forceful actions were not.

Perhaps with a different version of Swap, one that was allowed to grow up and actually think with the best interests of others in mind, we would have been shown a different outcome. Perhaps he would have been shown as a partially helpful influence in Killer's recovery.

But this is what we got instead.

Another reason why Color is able to tolerate and resist the threats and attempts of harm Killer could use against him is the fact he's just stronger than Killer in general. This dude absorbed six human souls and can only die if he were to overexert his magic use to the point it breaks his fucking body. This doesn't mean he's invincible, but he can certainly compete with Killer's efforts until Killer decides his goal is not worth the struggle.

Dream is not powerful enough to do this. Neither is Rahafwabas's Swap.

Color might be powerful, but he's also strong enough to be gentle and kind. In fact that's his fucking default. He is the Optimus Prime of the Undertale Multiverse in that sense. He could fuck up Killer's shit if he really wanted to, but that wouldn't fix anything and he knows this.

Dream and Swap don't fail at helping not just because they lack the exact resources, abilities, opportunities, and outlook Color has, but because they can only survive so much, and it's obvious Killer has fucked them both up beyond an extent where they can just look away from it no problem.

-- Sarco

I’d imagine that color’s probably the first time killer has had the experience of caring if someone stays or not. And not just that, the very first time he’s wanted someone to stay (with him), and be around him—the first time another’s presence around him hasn’t felt intruding and invasive.

[puppyscatorccio]

what do you think about noncon tfem!lottie & tmasc!nat x reader :))

lottienat who take advantage of the fact that they are two, to destroy you, because you are so helpless.

lottienat who take turns: “stay at the door to make sure no one sees me fuck her, you next.”

lottienat who are mean to you, kinda aggressive, but kinda sweet like: “don't you like our attention? you seem to like it so much.” “yeah, we like it too, you make cute noises when we give you our attention.”

lottie who's sweet while fucking you, while nat likes being aggressive and mocking seeing the fear on your eyes.

lottienat who force you to watch them fucking.

lottienat who love to force sex on you at parties.

lottienat who drugs you to force you to do anything.

can you write some horny things based on this I've wrote hehe 👉👈 also sorry my english

never apologize, your english is great! i love these thoughts... / mdni, noncon, drugging, blackmailing

it starts out with you catching them making out in the locker room one time. of course, you'd never tell anyone about it, it's not really any of your business, but they have to make sure that you really do stay quiet.

they approach you so menacingly that you're sure they're gonna beat you up to silence you. "come on, i promise i won't tell anyone." but it's no use. when you're sure your life is over, you feel lottie pressing her lips against yours, rough and mean, pushing you against the wall.

"nat, watch the door. make sure no one comes in," is the last thing you hear before lottie is getting on her knees, pulling your pants down. even if you try to resist it, to tell her to stop, she doesn't really seem to care much. it's even more embarassing with nat standing right there, watching everything and clearly enjoying it.

it quickly becomes a habit. they get addicted to using you, love how the fight drains out of you so quickly because it's two against one, there's no wau you're getting out of their grip. the adrenaline and power that it gives them only feeds their ego.

lottie & nat who always corner you at parties, making you drink/smoke more than you can handle, nat slipping in a few pills on your drink so that you're nice and pliant for them. they don't even take you too far, they want everyone to see that you belong to them. nat bending you over the hood of lottie's car, fucking you with his strap while lottie just watches, waiting for her turn.

lottie who usually likes to take her time with you, drying your tears, kissing you all over, while nat is more on the aggressive side, degrading and spitting on you. sometimes, they'll switch roles, just to throw you off balance.

lottie & nat who insist on making you watch them fuck. it could be after they're done with you or before they even got started, but they're forcing you to sit your ass down and watch lottie dicking nat down or nat blowing her. they love putting on a show.

lottie & nat who take pictures and videos of you whenever they're using you, both for their own enjoyment and so that they can force you to keep coming back. "you wouldn't want everyone to see how much of a slut you are, would you?" while making you watch the videos they took, telling you that if you don't listen to them, they'll share it with everyone they know.

[nobodysavemysoulitsperfectlyfine]

The seven as perfumes/colognes/vaguely smelling substances except I don't know anything about formulas

Note that these are probably not real things you can put in a perfume this is for fun.

Also I got a lot of this from Reddit.

Percy: Top notes would be some sort of sweet like vanilla bean, Middle notes would include seaspray and tropical fruits, and base notes would probably be a nice honey, cocoa or brown sugar sorta thing. According to my research (scrolling through Pinterest) these are typically scents you find in women's perfume.

And to assume that Percy Jackson gives a fuck about what he smells like as long as it's good. Tsk tsk. Percy probably smells like what you imagine a tropical get a way is, which sucks because he can never get that.

Annabeth: Top notes for Annabeth would definitely be of the citrus sort. Specifically lemon. It's said that her perfume was definitely lemon scented, probably because it repels spiders. The girl drowns herself in it. Also because mm yummy. Middle notes would be whatever book smell is like. Call it leather, call it sandalwood, but gawdamn. Essentially she smells liked a freshly cleaned library filled with pastries.

Lesbians flock to her whenever nearby (I'm talking about the one friend she has that hates Percy for some reason)

Leo: Say what you want, the guys a mix of the NASTIEST smells and absurdly sweet chocolate. I've been in enough car shops, mechanic wearhouses and what not to be able to know that there is NO GOD FEARING SCENTS. There's notes of Grease Oils, Sulfur, and the Giant Fennel, which is a plant said to be sweet, aromantic and spicy. Leo smells different every single day that he's working, and failing to rizz the huzz. (Did I say that right?)

Also, he really likes it if someone close to him smells like a food. ESPECIALLY when he's been working for so long and needs to eat something.

Anyways.

Jason: He probably doesn't care much for Cologne, given that most of the ones he finds are supposed to smell like animalistic and musk, when he prefers the real kind. But let's say that for the sake of fitting into Camp Jupiter or what ever, he's wearing the normal stuff. I want to say linen for some reason. But no. There's notes of Petrichor for right after he used his powers (basically the smell of thunder), Metallic and soft earth smells. Jason smells like air right before a storm hits, where the air is misty, the winds slowly picking up, but nothings gone South. Not yet.

Wear an aphrodisiac around him and this man will FREEZE. Like, legitimately. Jason's the type of guy to be so afraid of making one of his friend's uncomfortable that his first instinct will be to do as little as possible so he won't get carried away. People start to notice that he isn't dishing out hugs or friendly touches often.

Frank: The cleanliest musky smell you can find. I can't describe it. Animal smells, but it doesn't get out of hand. I feel like a part of him gets nervous about everybody thinking he stinks, when it's anything but. They're intrigued, but not grossed out, per se. I think it would be hilarious if Frank's the type of person that everybody surrounds, trying to figure out what he's wearing. Sandalwood, Animals, musk, all wrapped up in a nice, evenly balanced package.

Also tell me he doesn't have a weird thing for Jasmine. I can feel it in my delusional bones.

Hazel: She might be the only person who likes the fancy French stuff and purposely wears it. Incense, bereavement flowers, Jasime because she knows Frank likes it :) Mildew, Chrysanthemums, girly takes care of herself. Hazel smells like a funeral home, except it's filled with loving family members, fresh flowers, sweet foods and precious memories.

Piper: I'm conflicted on whether or not she actually wears this stuff. Nevertheless, there's a lingering scent of every single perfume or cologne her siblings wear. And even if she's been through literal tartarus, there's still a trace of bath and body works on her, or at least some pleasant smell. I can't remember if this happened during the lost trio, but I imagine that while in the most random of places, Jason would comment on it, she would deny it, and Leo would confirm it by straight up sniffing her.

No, you know what? She gets a kick out of solely using novelty products. Think Angry Birds scented shit, Hello Kitty and Garfield, Random candy smells that have no right to exist. Jason is baffled every time.

This took a stupid long time to make just for it to not be accurate of any sort. I apologize. Maybe I'll even do more later.

[talia-kane]

Alfred starts secretly dosing the manor with antidepressants and they stop wanting to fight crime

[manyblinkinglights]

Just about every SINGLE inspo bathroom I could find had a big ass window in it. Well, my bathroom is small and windowless, cool. But it turns out putting a big window-sized picture up in a bathroom has a somewhat, Sims-like, space-embiggening effect:

Even if it doesn’t seem like it makes the room any bigger to you, it’s noticeably not as big-feeling as it would be in a regular room. It doesn’t loom. If you have a tiny windowless bathroom, consider obtaining a window-sized big framed Piece Of Art for it.

Common interior design mistakes: having a crummy house. Try having high ceilings with big windows, this will make your space feel airy amd inviting! Lots of extra rooms give you places to store things and reduce clutter in your living space. Consider having a view of the city skyline or perhaps the ocean, this will give your home a peaceful and sophisticated mood. Easy tips that anyone can follow!

[eclipsecrowned]

achievement unlocked: accidentally starting something in my tiny town.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Summer Won't Last Forever; 100 Follower Event (Closed)

Technically past the OG 100, but oh well; better a little late than never! And thank you for the support, and I'm happy that people are enjoying the silly little stories I write. Now; onto the event!

Fandom

Just TWST at the moment. You can request the main cast, side characters, and staff!

Duration

I will be holding this event for 10 requests for followers. Once this is filled, I will be closing the event. This is so I don't overwork myself. The only exception will be for mutuals. Mutuals get special treatment, yes.

Once they are filled I will close the ask box until I'm done writing them, which. The ask box will then return after the event.

For mutuals, hit me up in messages if I close the ask box before you can get in ^v^

Rules

1 request per person; the only exception I may make is for mutuals (depending on engagement).

1 character per request; but do include two backups in case I already received an ask for X character with X prompt (also in case there are a lot of requests for one character). You may also include a backup prompt in case it has already been used.

Please include if you would like it to be platonic or romantic in nature.

No NSFW.

If you are on Anon, do feel free to leave an emoji (see here for taken emojis)

As a reminder, I typically only write gender-neutral reader (they/them/their's/you). I make exceptions for trans reader though (just include gender identity and pronouns please).

Ortho and Grim are strictly platonic.

Anything romantic will be aged up; imagine the cast to be in an actual college.

~ Now onto the Event ~

Hot days fall into cool nights. Carnivals arrive in town. Long days spent at the beach or community pool. Fond memories made with friends. But, summer won't last forever.

Prompts

Stargazing

Let's beat the heat

Beach day

Farmer's market

Road trip

Carnival fun

Campfire antics

By the babbling brook

Long-distance relationship

Caught in the rain

Also, feel free to leave up to 3 emojis in brackets if you want to add anything extra. The majority of these should be fluff, but feel free to indicate if you would like something other than fluff in your ask!

Example; May I request *character* with *prompt* and (🌻🌻🌻). Could it please be platonic and fluffy?

These will be in the form of drabbles; which may range between 300 and 900 words depending on if the muse of writing inspiration strikes me or if I get carried away. Knowing me, I may get carried away for some ^v^;

Once this event is done I'll be heading back to writing for the Soul Match AU; which will be none other than the resident wet cat, Idia Shroud *ominous chortling*

Tags (aka my mutuals that I have on my main ^v^)

@eynnwwyjth, @krenenbaker, @azulashengrottospiano, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @ithseem, @inkybloom-luv, @leonistic

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

All works will be under the tags #dove does events & #100 follower event.

[moe-broey]

Doodle that was. Supposed to be something else but I decided it would be funny to draw them scared pressed against the wall silly style (attempting to hide in plain sight)

Now what are they hiding from....? 🤔 And Why? 😳

Under cut! Is a process shot that would make an onlooker ask "Where are their clothes :/" but I actually really like the anatomy there so I wanna show it!!

Omg nobody look!!! They're naked........ (mostly.)

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Just ate the most amazing tangerine I've had in A LONG TIME