#love his braids but GOD im gonna give in and just keep it down instead 💔

[sk3tch404]

Unhinged School Boy Ran

CW‼️‼️ Slightly suggestive artwork made by a m1nor (16) not explicit at all (non-con sorta?)

If you don't like or feel uncomfortable, I understand, so please just keep scrolling! I've been on the fence about posting light nsfw/suggestive stuff (ofc never actual p%rn) bc of my age. I use drawing as an emotional/creative outlet and hobby, so please keep that in mind!

Also all characters (Ran and Y/n) are depicted as at least 18 since this is a school setting! Please do not misunderstand and think I'm specifically uploading this to fetishize school uniforms in Japan!!

Let ur inner skibidi demons out yall.... 😔🤦‍♀️ Tbh the most fun I've had drawing in a small while.

[elysianslove]

the little things ; haikyuu boys

synopsis; the little things he does that show just how much he loves you

pairings; karasuno x reader, aoba johsai x reader, fukurodani x reader, nekoma x reader, shiratorizawa x reader

genre; fluff

warnings; will make u hate being single <3

karasuno ━━

sugawara koshi; whenever your hair gets caught in anything, he’s so gentle yet quick at fixing it. if your hair is long, and you pull a bag or a shirt and your hair gets tucked in, he’ll wordlessly pull it out. if your hair is short and a bracelet or zipper gets caught he just continues whatever he was doing (talking to someone else for e.g.) while helping you out. also always makes sure your hair isn’t bothering you; if you’re leaning over writing something, he’ll always tuck it behind your ear so lovingly ahhh

daichi sawamura; massages. he’s descended from heaven for this purpose only. his hands are rough and like hard on your muscles, but it’s so perfect. he’ll approach you when you’re in school sitting anywhere, from behind, and just knead his hands into your muscles for a few seconds. euphoric. or if you live together, he always greets you with back/shoulder/neck massages in the bathtub hvjkwkd.

nishinoya yuu; always makes you try his food. always. whether it’s with a group of people or just you two, he just goes “hey babe open ur mouth” with this face 😏 bc he’s cheeky, and just shoves a mouthful of food. spoiler alert, it’s always way too hot. but it’s just tradition at this point. he takes a bite of his food, decides if it’s worthy enough for your mouth or not, then just. yeah.

kageyama tobio; buys you a snack whenever he gets his milk. if you’re special special, he’ll buy you your own carton of milk. he goes up to the vending machine and automatically thinks of you when he sees your fave snack, and it’s like mindless at this point he just routinely does it. it still surprises you to this day, even when he’s so nonchalant about it.

tsukishima kei; kisses your forehead. tsukki is not too big on pda, and even privately he’s not very touchy feely either tbh. but just a simple peck on your forehead grounds you, and it’s a small reminder of the fact that despite his outward coldness, he really does love you. he rarely does it in front of others, but sometimes, he’ll indulge both you and him, and settle a small kiss on your temple just randomly.

asahi azumane; anime jesus always has a hair tie/clip carried around for you on his wrist/in his pockets. i mean he’s always needing them, he just stocks up when he starts dating you. somehow he’s always there when you’re frustrated with your hair all over the place what a savior. later on it evolves to him carrying around your scrunchie and yes the boys make fun yes he blushes but no he does not take it off.

tanaka ryunosuke; carries you on his back, or your things, when you’re too tired to walk. whether that be if you’re too tired because of your heels or you’re just lazy, he just loves helping you out what a respectful gentleman. honestly it just becomes that every time he sees you he like barricades over to you so quick and flips you onto his shoulder or spins you around. anyways. walking with tanaka means walking empty handed bc he will never let you carry anything. ( shifts pile of bags on one arm just to hold your hand ).

hinata shoyo; learns hairstyles to try on you. whether it be short hair or long hair, expect his youtube search history to look a lot like “how to make a french braid” or “cute hairstyles for short hair for your cute girlfriend”. he’s always so entranced by you and watches so carefully whenever you do anything on your hair, and he gets do excited whenever you let him try and he gets it right. also !!! a lot of the times you’ll sit between his legs and he’ll just softly card his fingers through your hair or lightly braid it.

yamaguchi tadashi; buys you flowers a lot. he doesn’t overdo it, just so it doesn’t lose its value and worth. but for example, mondays suck ass and he knows how much you hate them, so he always makes sure to either leave a single rose on your desk/in your locker or give it to you himself if he can. it’s so endearing and motivating honestly, and the constant reminder every once in a while is so cute. continues to do it even like 3 years in, which is so fkn sweet honestly.

nekoma ━━

kuroo tetsurō; plans the best dates. seriously. like not one moment spent with him is dull. i don’t think being with kuroo entails a high energy relationship, i just mean that even a walk in the park is fun with him. he also always knows when to plan a fancy dinner and when it’s just something casual. like he always puts in so much effort, gives 120%, for every date with you. is your favorite band/singer/artist in town? he’s got tickets. the weather is amazing? you’re going to the beach. you’re sleep deprived? nap dates. 10/10

kozume kenma; he teaches you how to play his games. the fact that he’s letting you touch the console in itself says enough, but whenever he buys a new one, and learns it thoroughly enough, he will always sit by you and teach you its ways. picture you sitting in his lap while he guides your hands <333 if you’re not a gamer, he’s actually v flattered by the fact you’re willing to sit through this w him. but if you are a gamer, expect daily competitions. oh and if you beat him? you’re dead to him :).

haiba lev; instead of reaching for things that you’re too short for to grab it himself, he just lifts you up lmfao. i mean w the way he teases yaku, i can imagine he’d be v teasing with you as well if you’re even an inch shorter than him. but fret not! it’s all in the name of love. he’s very loving though, and if he sees you struggling he’ll just wordlessly hoist you up from your waist or something. at first it’s terrifying, but later on it just makes you giggle cause he’s like so willing to do it and it’s effortless for him hehe.

yaku morisuke; always makes sure you’re taking care of yourself, but kinda aggressively? lmao anyways. like he’s always “babe have u eaten” and if u say no expect him to start yelling like “what do you mean no??? are you insane???” v dramatic but honestly <333 he’s always texting you after parting ways “did you get home safe” or on weekends where he cant meet you, he’s asking how it was, if you indulged yourself a bit, relaxed. it’s very sweet and he makes sure it’s not overbearing. he just wants his baby to be healthy and happy.

yamamoto taketora; walks on the side with the cars. it’s not a very noticeable thing, but you see it, and you recognize it. he makes sure he’s always walking where cars are speeding by, a hand on the small of your back guiding you away and to the other side of him. it’s the little notions of protectiveness like if he’s driving and stops suddenly, he’ll put a hand out to keep you from lurching forward, he pushes you gently out of the way before you bump into someone. things like that.

aoba johsai ━━

oikawa tōru; he doodles in your notebooks, or on your skin. if you have class with him, and sit next to him, he’ll always be doodling on your notebook like little hearts or stupid, cute things like your initials + his in a heart. or if you’re at a study date together, and you’re focused on your laptop screen, he’ll leave little encouraging messages on your notes for you to notice when you’re revising. sometimes you’ll be sitting with him at lunch or even if you’re out w him and a bunch of other people, and he happens to have a pen. expect a little smiley face on your inner wrist, or a heart plus his initials ( o.t. )

iwaizumi hajime; he helps you take off your make up/takes it off for you. if you’re too sleepy, he’ll just take the products he’s used to seeing you use and start following it step by step after he props you up next to the sink. while he stands between your thighs he just so gently starts rubbing at your skin and washing away the make up. if you’re already asleep, he’ll have to like google the steps oh my god im gonna cry hes so cute. if you don’t necessarily wear make up, then he’ll just help you do your nightly routine, or even your shower routine, like using a body scrub or a face mask or, bruh, even shaving lmfao.

hanamaki takahiro; saves everything you buy/send/make him. i mean everything. has literally over two thousand photos of you, all the polaroids or postcards are saved in a little box he has under his bed. anything you make him (unless it’s edible) he has. if you make him a small embroidery thing he will literally attach it to his sports bag or something. any chain you make him is automatically added to his keychain. that flower crown you made with him on one of your first dates? he still has it. the flowers are dead but the memory loves babyyyy

matsukawa issei; carries extra clothes of his for you to borrow. hey have i mentioned that mattsun is big? 😃 because he is 😃. meaning regardless of your size or height or whatever, his clothes will drown you <3 i see him as preferring more oversized or just loose shirts rather than tight ones, so yk. on you???? if y’all are just hanging out and you even think about being slightly cold — here have five options of mattsun’s clothes to choose from. he always makes sure they smell like him too. it’s self indulgent really, because he loves the way they look on you, and he loves that it leaves a trace of his scent on you. territorial? i think yes.

fukurodani ━━

bokuto kōtarō; always hugs you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. sometimes, even if he doesn’t know it, you need his hugs badly. y’all are gonna try and tell me bokuto doesn’t give the best fkn hugs??? yeah get outta here with that bs. he SO does. he either kneels down and wraps his arms around your waist, picks you up, and spins you around, like he hasn’t seen you in 3 years, or he’ll just wrap his arms around your neck and pull your head to his chest, cradling it, and just sighing like he won’t see you for the next 3 years. his hugs always make you feel so much better, even if you weren’t feeling down to begin with.  

akaashi keiji; plays with your hands and caresses them. it’s the delicate feel and gentleness of it all. akaashi’s generally an anxious person, leaving him very fidgety. but once you two get together, and he starts being comfortable with you, expect to find your hand always between the two of his, just fondling with him. he’ll trace random figurines on the back of your hand, or have his fingers ghost over your wrist and up to your fingertips. if his hands are especially shaky, expect him to just grab one of your yours and hold it tightly between the grasp of two of his. it conveys trust, and all you have to do is kiss his knuckles gently and he’s melting.

konoha akinori; he has your reminders app linked with his, and sneaks in small, motivating messages. every once in a while you’ll get a notification from the app that tells you to drink water or have a snack (or text konoha he’s bored and he misses you). also always sends you pictures to distract you from stress. like it could literally just be a picture of him smiling with a thumbs up and you’d just ,,, melt bc you love him so much.

shiratorizawa ━━

ushijima wakatoshi; he has so many plants that are named after you, or your nicknames, and he’s like so gentle with them too. like strokes their petals and speaks to them so softly, the same way he does with you. you’re honestly so curious how he hasn’t run out of names, but he’s just a genius like that. whenever you go over to his place, and he’s bought a new one, he’ll take your hand and guide you to where it’s growing and just be like “look it’s baby y/n” and you just 🥺🥺🥺

semi eita; he has a playlist on his phone, that’s constantly being updated, for you and him to listen to. the first time he showed it to you, you were stargazing and he took out his phone and headphones and was like “i made a playlist for you wanna list” and every part of your body lit up in flames im not joking. now, a lot of the times, you’re coming back home on a train, and your head is on his shoulder and you’re sharing headphones listening to the playlist. when either one of you is driving you’re blasting it (a lot of the playlist is the hsm soundtrack)

satori tendō; tendo reads people so well, and being in a relationship with him means he will read you so well. so a lot of the times, in social situations, he’ll recognize the signs of you wanting to leave, for example, or if someone’s bothering you, he’ll know exactly how to approach it too. this also entails having a lotta inside jokes hehe, and also just like. talking with your eyes. yk that thing. yeah. all you have to do is look at him a certain way, and he just knows exactly what you just said.

goshiki tsutomu; he buys the both of you this small plushie, and whenever you’re missing each other you just. squish it. and he squishes his. he would rather die than let anyone know this, but you’re not too keen on letting anyone know yourself tbh. it’s just this little thing you have, and it means a lot more to you than just this. when he first bought it he was like “look we have matching plushies” and you passed away on the spot ❤️

shirabu kenjirō; loves trying out new recipes with you. he’s not too big on cooking or baking, but there’s just something about doing it with you that really — hits the spot yk. nowadays, whenever he comes across a new recipe on social media that he thinks you’ll like he just automatically sends it to you like with no words no texts just the post and you’re like “OMG CAN WE DO THIS” and he’s like “why else would i send it. yes we can :)” hvskwkeke

end note;  thank you sm for the love on my last two posts!! i’m glad you guys enjoyed them sm. if you have any requests, they’re open and i’m happy to deliver, mwah!

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

okay so in one of your quarantine drabbles you write about peter having a sensory overload i think and nat asks "how long?" and then she finds out it isnt long for peter and basically im saying id love to see the aftermath of peter's long episodes- maybe he like walks into a movie night where the other avengers are hanging and didnt tell him to try and let him sleep or something? idk it may be stupid i just thought it might be cute

Thanks for the prompt, babe! It’s been a while since I looked at that one ^-^ I hope you like it!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Momma and Baby Spider. We love us some platonic Avengers. 

Warnings: aftermath of sensory overload episode, other than that, hella fluffy

Word Count: 1869

Pretty much every time FRIDAY pops up a panel in her room, Natasha doesn’t pay a lot of attention because typically it’s something she knows already.

Not this time.

The window pops up as Natasha comes out of the bathroom, twisting her hair into a braid. It shows Peter sitting quietly by himself on the couch in the common room.

“FRIDAY, is Natasha in her room?”

“Yes.”

She expects Peter to get up and start walking towards the elevator but instead, he stays on the couch, twisting his hands together.

“…do you think she’d be okay with me going over?”

“Yes.”

He still doesn’t get up. Oh, Peter.

Natasha sighs and tosses the comb back onto the sink. Once arriving at the Complex, she’d had a feeling that this might happen. Considering how Peter had vanished into the lab within five minutes of arriving and only now, three hours later, has he emerged, it’s less of a feeling now.

“Do you—“

“Stop stalling, Peter, and go.”

Thank god for FRIDAY, hmm? She’s pretty certain if anyone else had tried to say that to him it wouldn’t’ve worked. The screen closes as Peter gets up with an: “okay, okay, I’m going.”

Natasha sits down on the bed and presses her hands together under her chin. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” the AI summarizes helpfully.

“Okay,” she breathes, getting up and going to the closet.

She opens the doors and reaches up, looking for the thick comforter. She pulls it down. Perfect. It’s nice and soft and thanks to being up on the top shelf it’s nice and cool. Spreading it over the bed, she straightens up just in time for the soft chime of the door.

Natasha pulls on the fluffy grey cardigan and goes to answer. Peter looks so much smaller standing swamped in his pink sweater than he did on the cameras.

“Ms. Romanoff?” Oh, dear. “Are — are you busy?”

“Come in, Солнышко,” she says instead, stepping aside.

Peter smiles — or at least the corners of his mouth quirk up a little bit — and walks through the door, glancing around the room. There isn’t anything Natasha can see, which means Peter’s not alright.

Obviously, we knew that, and we didn’t need the confirmation.

“Of course,” Natasha said. She closed the door. “What’s going on, Peter?”

'I just, um, wanted to see how you were settling in for the night—“

“Peter.”

Peter freezes. Then he looks over at Natasha, and swallows hard. “…sorry, habit.”

“I know.” Peter hides very well behind civility and the service mask. It’s the hardest one to take off, especially when it works so well.

“…are you settling in okay?” Case in point. Natasha’s about to chide him when she catches sight of Peter’s face. “Please?”

Natasha’s known Peter long enough to know what he’s really asking. “I’m just here relaxing, Peter, you’re not interrupting anything. I just got out of the shower when you arrived.”

“…thanks.”

She reaches out, offering her hand. Peter nods. She takes him lightly by the arm and tugs him toward the bed. “Now, what’s wrong, Солнышко?”

Poor Peter looks like he’s about ten seconds from falling over. He tries to stand up and Natasha’s chest clenches when he wobbles terribly.

“Easy,” she murmurs, catching him by the shoulders and sitting him back down, “talk to me.”

“…it’s…it’s been a really long day,” Peter mumbles, “and I, um…it started at school.”

“I see.” So more than three hours.

“And, um…” Peter hesitates. Then his arms go tightly around his waist. He laughs. For one second. Then it turns into a hitched gasp. It settles like a dead weight in Natasha’s chest.

“Obviously it didn’t go as well as I would’ve liked.”

“…oh, Peter, come here.”

Every single ounce of Natasha’s body is screaming at her to cuddle the poor kid until he can’t cry anymore. She tucks Peter’s head under her chin and works her hand under the iron grip the kid’s got on his own waist to rest on his lower stomach, rubbing softly to ground him.

It starts tensing under her hand and the hitching of his breaths makes Natasha curl her arms around him. Damn, she wishes she were better at this. All she does is clutch Peter closer as he begins to shake, making soothing noises.

“I didn’t know it was gonna be that bad, I wanted—I wanted to get work done today but I couldn’t and I just wanted to—“

“Shh, shh, you don’t have to explain, shh, I’ve got you.”

It takes a while, to neither of their surprises, but eventually, Peter stills and buries his face in Natasha’s neck, nuzzling into the collar of her sweater.

“…thank you for understanding, Nat,” he mumbles.

“Of course,” Natasha replies automatically, running her hand through Peter’s hair. As she feels Peter start to slump, an idea comes to her head. Something to help him fall asleep.

“Hey, listen,” she says softly, giving Peter’s head a little shake, “sometimes when it gets bad for me, I have this ritual of sorts. Can we try it?”

“Um, what is it?”

“Will you lie down on the bed for me?”

It takes a second, which she doesn’t mind at all, for Peter to move out of her arms and crawl to the middle of the bed. He tugs his sweater around him and lays down on his back.

“Here?”

“Perfect.” Natasha smiles and moves closer, swinging a leg to lie over Peter’s calves, still checking that it’s okay. She reaches forward to tug at the edge of Peter’s sweater. “Can I take your sweater off?”

“What are we doing?” Peter blurts out, tugging the sweater closer around himself.

Natasha smiles sadly. Sometimes she forgets that Peter’s still in so many ways just a kid. Even though he’s in so many ways the exact opposite. And right now, he looks every bit the scared kid who just needs a hug.

“I know that you said there’s a bit after one of your attacks, especially a long one,” she murmurs, “where it’s hard for you to remember where your body is.”

“Yeah.”

Natasha leans forward and runs her hand over Peter’s cheek. “In my experience, being close to someone afterward and knowing they care about you, after everything, makes me feel a little more human, a little more like I know I..have a body.”

“Is that why you help Steve with the whole once a week thing?”

“You mean having someone take care of you and make you feel safe and loved which is very important?” Natasha smirks as Peter starts to fumble with his hands and averts his gaze. “Hmm? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“…yes.”

“Yes. Also why I help Steve with it. Apart from the fact that he’s a big blond puppy dog with you, he’s very good at being very pure in his affections and he loves you. So much. We all do.”

And she does have to smile again with Peter giving Steve a run for his money with his puppy dog eyes.

“…what am I supposed to say to that?”

“That you love us too?”

Peter’s face changes to scared almost immediately and he scrambles upwards. “Of course I do, did I — “

“Shh, Солнышко, I’m teasing. Of course, we know.” Peter relaxes and lets Natasha lie him back down. “You don’t have to say anything.”

She can see how hard it is for him to feel like he’s okay to relax if he keeps talking.

“Or talk, if you don’t want to,” she amends.

“Okay.”

The room feels warmer with Peter here, like it’s trying to make itself into a nest. She takes the edge of the comforter and fluffs it, making it look like Peter’s sinking into the blanket. As she works, she starts murmuring softly.

“My ritual is to have someone else just stay with me for a little bit. Just to feel a little more human. So I just want to touch you. That’s it. Physical contact, safe, soft, from someone who loves you. Is that okay?”

She gets a nod, so she takes her hands and gently places them on the sides of his ribcage.

“…I want to touch your skin directly. It’ll help ground you. You can keep your stuff on if it helps. Is that okay?”

Another nod.

“Alright.”

She starts peeling the sweater slowly away from Peter’s body, running her hands over the material, and placing one hand on the little bit of Peter’s waist that she can see under his shirt.

“I think I know where to avoid but if at any time I hurt you or make you uncomfortable you tell me,” she says sternly, “don’t just lie there and take it, alright?” Peter nods. “I’m afraid I’m gonna need a verbal agreement for this one.”

“Yes,” Peter says, “I promise.”

“Good job, Baby Spider.”

“Please don’t touch my wrists.”

“I won’t.” Peter takes the hem of his sweater and balls it up in his fist as Natasha’s hand starts rubbing small circles on his tummy. “You let me know if it gets bad again, okay?”

“I will.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she stretches to put Peter’s phone on the nightstand. “Do you want me to talk or stay quiet?”

“…don’t know.”

“Why don’t I start talking,” she says as she resumes rubbing little circles on Peter’s tummy, “and then if you want me to stop, you let me know.”

He nods.

So Natasha starts talking. If she’s being perfectly honest, she can’t really tell what she’s saying, she’s just kind of rambling. She’s much more focused on how her hands run softly over the scars and the marks left on Peter’s skin, and how Peter’s many masks slowly start to slip off, dozing under the warm light.

It’s somewhere in the middle of a story about something Clint did in the middle of their mission to Bucharest — not Budapest — that she notices Peter’s eyes are closed. She smiles softly and lets her voice trail off, only to frown when Peter blinks his eyes open and shifts.

“It’s okay, you can sleep. That’s part of it,” Natasha reassures, giving the upper part of his chest a little pat. Peter shifts back and his eyes close again, a sleepy little murmur quickly muffled by the comforter as Natasha tucks him in. “We love you, Солнышко. Sleep, now.”

“Good night, Natasha,” comes Peter’s little voice from the pile of blanket.

“Good night, Baby Spider. Sleep.”

Natasha continues to rub Peter’s arms softly and murmuring quiet words into the hushed room until Peter’s breathing evens out. She trails off again and this time, Peter doesn’t wake up.

[writer-rochelle]

Statesman: Ablaze  Ch.2: Off the Grid

(a/n: here is chapter 2 of the one thing im super frickin proud of. thank you @pomelloe-me​ for bullying me in our shared google doc to make sure i get things done. ily <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway. 

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green  3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words "go away" floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head. 

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck.  She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone. The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well. 

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door. 

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp. 

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters. 

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left. 

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen. 

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town.  

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves. 

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's (a close second).  

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, where she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it? ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room. 

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the ‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’. 

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served. 

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands. 

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating. 

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you…fuck head.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like "hoe bag", you learned to acknowledge the underlying "I love you".  

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table. 

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain mustached cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair. 

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment. 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile. 

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie. 

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home. 

* * * * * 

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy. 

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls. 

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘Boring.’ Pom thought, ‘Carey must have been watching it last.’

“The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress…..” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words. 

“Fuck off, ‘beloved my ass’” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn. 

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates. 

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering. 

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile. 

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case. 

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it. 

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off. 

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration. 

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them.  

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat. 

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack. 

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. Well, duty calls.

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button. 

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room. 

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could. 

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.” 

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too. 

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this. 

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table. 

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention. 

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent. 

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept. 

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at 0800, We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call. 

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her. 

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one.  

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm. 

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face. 

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait. 

(a/n: thank you all for reading and standing by while i get in the swing of things. i now have a masterlist, and post with who and what yall can request will be coming soon. <3 roach)

[whirlybirbs]

After that last blurb, you should totally write Ms. Turner saving Arthur’s skin?? Like maybe Arthur is in trouble and Ms. Turner puts her newfound shooting skills to the test and clips someone???

a/n: this........ this made me laugh. arthur “i am smooth whoops oh god” morgan being saved by miss “i just learned how to shoot two days ago die bitch” turner. these two are idiots. i love them.

Lemoyne Raiders.

Incredible pains in the ass. They ride like a pack, descending on travelers beating the red-clay roads of Scarlett Meadow County. It is, to them, their world to be owned, their harvest to be reaped. It’s like the war never ended to them -- and you’re genuinely impressed with how little it takes for the shooting to start.

Your hold on Arthur’s waist tightens as Sugarcube kicks back on her hooves, huffing with surprise at the sudden blocking of the road by a decrepit carriage. Arthur gives a yank of the reigns, pulling her in a circle as she slows down and whinnies in annoyance -- he coos at her, voice low.

“Easy, girl.”

She clops her hooves in anger as two men hop from the carriage.

“Hey there, yanks --”

“There’s a toll t’ pass this road.”

You’re being robbed.

Arthur Morgan is fed up with these assholes. Fed up. Plain and simple. For weeks, he’s been riding back and forth between the camp at Clemens Point and Rhodes and every single damn time, he’s been hassled by these back-water idiots touting Civil War uniforms and less-than civil mindsets. 

Typically, he’d be shooting by now. 

But, you’re on the saddle behind him. He has, recently, made a promise to himself to keep you out of such things -- away from the violence and hustle of the life you’ve decided to stick with. It’s mostly to save face, mostly to keep you from thinking he’s some sort of monster. 

You are, however, explicitly aware of the wheelings and dealings of the Van der Linde Gang -- it’s inescapable, really. The camp feeds off the stories of robberies, heists and shoot-outs. You’re... well, you’re just proud the strong-man of the gang is sweet on you. 

Lead enforcer, Arthur Morgan. 

No simple man to be trifled with.

“Listen, fellers,” the aforementioned lead enforcer grits, “I don’t want any trouble --”

“Five dollars,” chirps the raider, leering towards you both, “an’ you an’ yer pretty lil’ lady can have a lovely time livin’.”

“Or... we shoot you,” the other contends, “An’ have ourselves a lovely time with yer lady instead.”

Arthur’s lip snarls. 

“... Y’know,” a laugh, “That sounds better --”

Suddenly, the bolt action rifles are raised -- they’re trained right on Arthur’s chest, leaving him to drop the reigns and raise his hands in quiet surrender. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that...”

With one well aimed jab of the ribs, Sugarcube rears up high, kicking one of the raiders square in the head and sending the other to the ground -- with a clatter, he gets the wind and the bolt-action rifle knocked from him. The lone raider scrambles in the dirt as Arthur hops from his horse.

“I didn’t wanna do this, mister, not infront a’ my girl --”

It’s almost too late when Arthur sees the pistol being pulled from the remaining man’s jacket.

A single shot rings out and the outlaw winces, half expecting this to be the time he takes one... but... nothing. No impact, no pain, no inevitable, cold death. Patting his vest, Arthur comes to find he’s very alive. And -- well, the raider at his feet is very dead.

Blue eyes blink back at you, his torso swiveling as his boots dance in the dirt.

You’re serving him a look sitting side-saddle, irritated. You are a picture of beauty with your flowing dress and your neat braid and your poise -- a lady of high-refinery and manners and sweetness. 

A lady with a pistol from Sugarcube’s saddle bag in your hands. 

“What were you gonna do, wrestle with ‘im?”

And that was the first time Arthur Morgan ever realized he was completely and hopelessly in love with you.

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 10

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, deeper than anticipated but still not that deep y'all this is primarily silly, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 4,286 for this chapter (45,795 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Daniel?"

Dan blinks. He blinks again, zoning back into the conversation he's supposed to be a part of.

"Er," he says, sheepish. "What was the question?"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, Daniel?" the woman asks - the interviewer asks, fuck, this is like the sixth time he's asked her to repeat herself. "I heard you were ill yesterday, weren't you?"

He wasn't. But that is what Jaime and Patrick had sworn up and down to anyone who asked, because they're good partners in crime like that. They look like they regret it now.

"Yeah, Daniel," Jaime says, stressing his name in a way that makes Dan think she's one more fuckup from smacking him in the back of the head. He'd probably deserve it, at this point. He can't remember being this scatterbrained in his whole life, and that's saying something. "You sure you're okay being out of bed?"

The word 'bed' gets stressed too, just a bit, and Dan feels a flush creeping up his neck.

It's honestly unreasonable how he can't seem to focus on the task at hand, which is answering softball questions about the show he's worked on for three years, because his mind keeps drifting back to Phil.

Phil, who he'd left in bed with Thor, all sleepy noises and grumpiness at Dan needing to leave. Phil, who has the day off and might still be mostly naked and lazy while he waits for Dan to come back. Phil, who he only has three days left with.

Three more days in London. Two sleeps. And Dan has shit to do every single goddamn day of it.

This is a work trip, technically. They've got a handful of interviews the next two days that couldn't be scheduled for their first London stretch, and then they're going to France. That's exciting, it is, a mark of success that Dan never expected for himself, but right now he's frustrated by anything that cuts into the time he could be using to kiss Phil.

Dan is so busy remembering how Phil's mouth had felt against his that he forgets to answer the question. He can practically feel his eyes glaze over.

"Daniel," Patrick says, audibly exasperated.

It takes a lot to get Patrick to that point, so Dan ducks his head and mumbles another apology.

"He's fine," Jaime tells the very nice and concerned interviewer whose name Dan has long forgotten. "He's just got a lot on his mind right now and he's really shit at multitasking."

"Hey," says Dan. It's a weak protest.

The interviewer is a tall woman with kind eyes that crinkle into laughter lines when she smiles at him. She's dressed casually, has a denim jacket with patches and pins all over it, and Dan feels his eyes linger at the rainbow on her pocket.

What is that like? To be so certain and so confident that you can wear it on your sleeve even in a professional environment? Dan doesn't know that he'll be able to get there.

He wants to compliment her on it. It's the same urge he had in the restaurant with Phil's family, vocalizing that he wishes he could wear more nail polish. The same swirling anxiety of being judged for it follows quickly, but this time it's amplified by the recording device in the interviewer's hand, the knowledge that anything he says right now will be analyzed to death later.

Dan wants to live authentically, and he wants to get to a place where he doesn't need to hide, but he's frustrated by the reality of how much progress that's going to take. It's not going to be easy, it already hasn't been, and it's never going to stop.

Even with making a name for himself and having an audience, Dan knows that coming out publicly still won't stop strangers from making assumptions about him or demanding an explanation for the women he's been seen with. He'll have to come out over and over and - it's scary. It's really scary.

The compliment catches in his throat. He can't say it to someone recording him, no matter how kind her eyes are. He hasn't even told his grandma yet.

"I like your jacket," he says instead. He feels like a coward for it.

"Thanks," the woman says brightly, looking down at herself and tapping one of her bigger patches. "Customized it myself, obviously. It's a wee bit more colourful than you like to be seen in, right?"

The casual chirping helps Dan relax, reminds him that this is a laid-back interview with easy questions. Nobody is shining a heat lamp on him and asking for an expose on how he spent part of last night inside of another man.

He grins and shrugs. "Yeah, alright, I wear a lot of black. Sue me. I can still think colours look nice on some people."

Great. Now he's thinking about Phil again.

"Like Jaime," Patrick offers, tugging at one of Jaime's bubblegum braids. Dan still can't tell if it's a wig or not, but she smacks Patrick's hand away like it's her own hair.

"That's true," says Dan. "Jaime wears as much black as I do, though, I dunno that she's the best example."

Patrick nods, solemn. "At least her hair is interesting."

"Oi, fuck you. Sorry," Dan adds sheepishly. Even though this is an online print interview, he still feels a little bit of shame whenever he slips up and curses during an interview.

The woman - Cara? Catherine? Camilla? Ca-something? - just laughs and waves his apology off.

With an ease that Dan can't help but notice isn't quite as practised as Phil's, the interviewer moves on to questions about their other cast members. While they don't have any trouble making fun of each other, it's even more fun to exaggerate stories of people who aren't here to defend themselves.

Dan tries so hard to participate. He does. He laughs in all the right places and gives Jaime grief for not remembering something right, because he's given this poor interviewer nothing of substance. The thing is that Jaime is better at telling stories and Patrick is so dry and stoic with interrupting jokes that Dan knows he isn't needed for this. He lets them bicker over a story detail that he's long forgotten and feels himself start to zone back out.

He listens to Patrick's slow timbre, Jaime's trill of a laugh, and lets his mind drift back to where it wants to be.

--

Even though it's tempting, Dan isn't stupid enough to text Phil in the middle of doing his fucking job. He has to resort to checking his phone between interviews and pictures, getting more and more pouty about the lack of response to the things he's sending throughout the morning. Phil must be having a lie-in, because it takes him a couple of hours to even see Dan's texts.

ugh i should have just stayed in bed

pls send thor pics

and you pics but like give me a heads up if your dick is out im at work

i dropped my coffee on jaimes lap fml shes gonna kill me

im just so distracted lmaooo

canft believe youre just asleep thats so rude

Oh nooooooo. I always cry over spilt coffee :( you want me to bring you one? I can come hang out for lunch!

The sweet text is accompanied by a photo of Thor asleep on the sofa, his little head pillowed on Phil's knee. Phil is wearing Dan's pyjama pants and - it's hard to tell for sure, with the way the photo is angled, but Dan thinks he's got the Friends shirt on. Frankly, that should be gross. Dan wore that shirt for way too long for it not to smell like, well, his sweat, and that is objectively not sexy.

Dan feels gooey warmth spread from his stomach outwards, anyway. Maybe it is gross, but it makes him happy to think about Phil's shirt smelling like him the way that his own Yeezy shirt still faintly smells like Phil. He covers his mouth with a hand so nobody milling around will see him grinning like an idiot.

thats ok, Dan texts back one-handed. yall look comfy you should stay. i'll b back for dinner and snuggles ok?

Ok! ^_^

God, but Dan wants to be there now. He wants to be the one cuddled up with his head in Phil's lap. He recognises that it's very stupid to be jealous of a dog, but he isn't going to let that stop him.

"Hey, Howell." Patrick's voice interrupts the daydream of slender fingers carding through Dan's hair.

Dan blinks. He blinks again, looks up.

"I didn't even see you sit down," Dan tells him, bemused. They're sharing a bench in the building's lobby, not wanting to go too far in case they need to go back upstairs for more photos during the short break in their day.

"Yeah, you're on another planet," says Patrick. Dan wishes he could argue that fact. "Things went well with your whole Love Actually emergency, then?"

The reference pulls Dan up short. He feels his brow furrow as he walks through the entire film in his head. "What are you talking about? None of this happened in Love Actually."

"It's British, isn't it," Patrick says nonsensically.

"I don't," Dan starts, but then he gives up. He and Patrick are close as coworkers - friends, even - but Dan never quite understands the links that Patrick's brain makes. "It went well. It went really well. I don't know if Jaime told you everything I texted her, but I like... fully ended up meeting the family."

Patrick's eyebrows raise slightly. That's quite a reaction, from him. "You met the parents? Bro. You just started dating."

They're not in an overly crowded area, but people keep waking by them on their way in or out of the building, so Dan is pleasantly surprised to discover that Patrick can play the pronoun game, too.

"Yeah," says Dan. He doesn't want to get into the mix-up right now. He's sure that Patrick will have another incomprehensible reference when he hears about it. "But it just feels... I dunno. Right? In a way other people haven't? Maybe that's obvious."

"It's not obvious," says Patrick. He's snapping a hair elastic around his wrist idly, the gesture something Dan had thought was an expression of annoyance or frustration when they first met. Dan knows now that it means Patrick is tired, that he wants to shove his hair off his shoulders and stop it from tickling his neck. They're only halfway through their day, though, still a couple of photoshoots to get through, so he can't put his hair up just yet.

Dan knows so much about these people. He's learned it all from such close proximity for the past three years, but he also genuinely likes spending time with them. He feels, suddenly, very guilty for wishing cancellation on this thing they've all worked so hard for.

"Sorry," Dan says.

"For what?"

He doesn't really know how to voice it. He shrugs. "For being a shit coworker right now."

Patrick gives him an indecipherable look and shakes his head. "Daniel," he says, "you're not being a shit coworker."

"I kind of am, though," says Dan. "Like I can't focus at all, I'm missing interviews, and I... I don't know how much I want to go back to Atlanta. Is that bad?"

"Why would that be bad?" Patrick hums. "This is your home."

Home isn't an easy concept for Dan to wrap his head around. He hadn't had a happy one for most of his life, hadn't been able to find somewhere that felt quite right ever since he escaped that. So it's a little disconcerting when Patrick's words settle into his chest and feel like indisputable truth.

"London is home," Dan echoes, wondering it it feels just as right coming out of his own mouth. It does. His head is spinning, a bit.

"Yeah," Patrick says, like it's that easy.

Dan gives himself a little shake back into the present. He smiles, wry. "Still, I probably shouldn't be crossing my fingers under tables for the producers to shut us down."

For a moment, Patrick looks confused. Dan is all ready to apologise again, shove those feelings down, but Patrick just says, "So negotiate your contract. You know that you aren't required by law to see the show through to the end, right? You can just not come back for season four, or only come back for a couple episodes instead of a full season."

They're sat in a fairly public area, with other people walking about, but Dan could hear a pin drop in the shattering silence that rings in his ears at Patrick's use of logic.

"I," says Dan, "did not think of that."

Patrick nods. "You kind of tunnel-vision sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?"

--

By the time Dan returns to Phil's building, he's talked himself into and back out of quitting his job a dozen times. It's a dumb decision, but not much dumber than simply waiting for someone else to make the decision for him.

He decides to call Amy when he's in France and talk the options through with her. She's already looking for potential gigs in the UK for him, so hopefully the conversation isn't going to come as much of a surprise to her. The last thing he needs is for his agent to get upset with him over making changes in his life.

Dan's head is buzzing with it, loud enough to give him a headache. He texts Phil that he's outside and waits to be let in. He gets an intrusive domestic fantasy of letting himself in with his own key, and reminds himself to rein in this U-Haul bullshit.

"Hey!" Phil beams as he opens the door and steps back for Dan to come in. Other people live on the other floors, but Phil still leans in for a long kiss the moment the door closes behind Dan.

It sends sparks up Dan's spine and quiets some of the unending noise in his head. He sighs, leans into the kiss, wraps his arms around Phil's waist to pull him even closer.

He's cognizant of where they are, though, so he pulls back to rest their foreheads together after a moment. "Hey yourself."

"Did you have a good day?" Phil asks, his tri-coloured eyes bright and unguarded.

"Yeah, but it's better now," says Dan. He's parroting what Phil said to him yesterday, and he can tell that Phil recognises it from the little smile on his face. "You look nice. You showered just for me?"

Phil laughs and tugs at Dan's wrist, pulling him down the stairs. They've got four left feet between them, honestly, so it's a miracle nobody takes a nosedive.

"Yeah," he says as they narrowly avoid any number of broken bones. He presses Dan against the wall next to his front door and grins at him. "But it was also for the judgey moms at the dog park. You look nicer, you didn't take the makeup off?"

To be honest, Dan had forgotten it was even on his face. He settles his hands on Phil's hips and smiles. "They made me look like the best version of me, why would I erase all their hard work?"

"Mm, you do look pretty," Phil says, and Dan is lucky to have his back against a wall. His knees might have actually buckled at the praise if he was unsupported.

"Pretty, huh?" Dan asks. He tries to keep his tone dry, like it's a big joke, but Phil's big eyes just see too much.

"Very pretty," says Phil. Dan doesn't know how to handle being complimented by Phil's deep, sincere voice, but he isn't given much of a chance to react before Phil is speaking again. "But I don't know that I'd call this the best version of you. You looked really nice when you came, y'know."

"Fuck, Phil," Dan laughs, a little breathless. "I was literally gone for ten hours."

"Ten hours too many," Phil grumbles.

Dan laughs again, but he has to admit that Phil has a point. The day had absolutely dragged on with the knowledge that his probably-boyfriend was waiting for him.

"You wanna go inside, then?" Dan suggests, running his thumbs just under the hem of Phil's clean shirt. "I'll do a lot of things, but this floor is cement, mate. I'm not blowing you out here."

The giggle that's surprised out of Phil makes Dan smile so wide it hurts his cheeks. He smacks the center of Dan's chest lightly and steps back to let them both into his flat. "I was thinking we could, like, order dinner first or whatever, but I'm not going to complain if you want to switch up the itinerary."

"The itinerary," Dan mocks, looking around for a ball of fluff running directly at them as he struggles with his shoes. "Uh, where's Thor?"

"Uh," says Phil. There's colour high in his cheeks that he tries to hide by flopping onto the sofa. The sweats he stole off of Dan don't really leave much to the imagination at all, not when he's sitting like that, and Dan almost loses his balance when he stands up straight. The pink doesn't leave Phil's face, but a knowing smirk joins it. "He's in the bathroom."

Dan's heart skips like an old CD player and he laughs to mask just how fond he is. "Uh huh, and here you are acting like you were really ordering food first."

"Well," Phil says, his smirk growing, "we could still order first, it'd be at least twenty."

"Sounds like a challenge," Dan hums, coming around the sofa to sit on the other end and lean forward, kissing the sliver of skin where Phil's shirt is riding up. "Why don't you do that, and I'll go get a bloody condom."

Phil blushes, proper blushes, and pulls a packet out of his pocket. "Ta-da," he jokes, weakly. "For my next trick -"

"If you say you're going to make your penis disappear," Dan says, flat, "then I'm walking out."

They just look at each other for a long moment, like a staring contest neither of them initiated, and then Phil snorts. That sets them both off and soon enough they're laughing, Dan's nose tucked against Phil's hipbone and Phil's hand over his mouth.

"I wasn't going to say that," Phil insists, still giggling. "I wasn't."

"Sure you weren't." Dan grins up at him and slides up his body, a little less graceful than he'd imagined it in his head. He presses their smiles together and licks into Phil's mouth. A little noise passes between them when Phil's hands find their way into Dan's hair, but Dan isn't sure which of them it comes from.

The giddy feeling of laughter doesn't leave Dan's chest. He lets it make a home there as he trails kisses all over Phil's long, pale neck. He doesn't need to guess when Phil likes something - he squirms and makes these little huffs of noises, grip on Dan's curls tightening just a bit before it loosens again. It feels impossibly powerful to learn how to take Phil apart like this, like they're teenagers snogging on the sofa in their first relationship.

It's strange that this does feel like a first relationship for Dan, in a lot of ways. He loved his first girlfriend and cared about other women he's dated, but it's not the same at all.

Finally, Dan is allowed to feel all the things he's supposed to have felt when he was younger. He's allowed to let budding affection and lust and friendship all wrap up in one person.

"So, the piercings," Dan murmurs, letting his hand slide up Phil's shirt to toy with one of them.

"What about them?" Phil asks. He already sounds impatient and needy, like he had last night, and the sound of it goes straight to Dan's dick.

Dan laughs and sits up, helping Phil get his shirt off over his head. "I mean, do they do things for you? Do they feel good when I touch them? How do you want me to touch them to make them feel good?"

"Do you always ask this many questions during sex?" Phil asks, dry.

There's no point in lying. "Yeah, I tend to babble." Dan gives him a winning smile and taps at Phil's hips, a silent request for him to lift up. Phil does happily, arching up for Dan and letting his stolen sweats get tugged off. "Guess you'll have to shut me up somehow."

Phil laughs, muffling the sound of it with his palm, and shakes his head. He looks so fucking gorgeous like this, giggly and naked and starting to get hard against his thigh. Dan has no idea how he got this lucky.

"That's such a terrible line," Phil informs him, grinning wide. He doesn't seem bothered by Dan being dressed when he isn't. He just settles back against the cushions and wiggles a bit, either trying to get comfortable or just teasing Dan. Either is possible at this point.

"It's not a line," Dan protests, shrugging his jacket off and settling back between Phil's legs. He presses his mouth to Phil's soft tummy and, unable to help himself, blows a raspberry.

Phil kicks out at him, instinctive, and his tongue is trapped between his teeth as he tries to hold back giggles.

"My nipples aren't sensitive," Phil tells him, voice wavering with some combination of amusement and arousal. He drops a hand to wrap around his own cock, thumbing at the metal on the tip of it. "This is. It, like, tugs. It's nice."

Biting back a groan at the sight, Dan digs around for the condom. He impatiently knocks Phil's hand out of the way to get him hard enough that he can roll it on. The piercing just above his balls settles nicely at the bottom of the latex, almost like it's holding it in place. Dan rolls it between his fingers, watches Phil's eyes flutter closed. "And this one?"

"Not as much. Still good, though." Phil's tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Dan grins at the unconscious reminder of what he's meant to be doing.

It's not the most comfortable for them to be laid out on the sofa like this, lanky as they are, but Dan isn't nineteen anymore. His knees do not hold up the way they used to. He wraps his hand around the base of Phil's cock and lets the tips of his fingers idly play with the metal bar as he finally gets his mouth on Phil.

Dan isn't used to the taste of latex accompanying a blowjob, but it isn't unpleasant. He gives Phil a couple of long licks and then sucks lightly at the head, not sure how much pressure Phil likes yet.

That's something he thinks he'd love to learn. He wants to know everything about Phil's body, wants to make him tremble with it.

Dan is extremely offended when he glances up and sees that Phil is tapping something on his phone, but the offense settles when Phil huffs a laugh and says, "Put in for takeaway. All yours, now."

The phone gets put down and Dan tongues at the bump of Phil's Prince Albert ring through the condom. That makes Phil's breath hitch, his hips jerk just a bit.

It's been years since Dan has had a cock in his mouth, but he likes to think it's like riding a bike. He takes Phil deep, hollows out his cheeks, repeats any motion that makes Phil let out soft groans. He forgot how much he likes this, fuck.

Much like everything else, it's somehow impossibly better with Phil.

Phil keeps a hand in Dan's hair and braces the other on the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and Dan doesn't want to close his eyes and miss a fucking moment of this.

"Fuck," Phil breathes, and Dan responds with an answering moan around his dick. "Yeah, alright, that's - fuck, Dan, you feel so good, look so pretty like that."

The praise still makes Dan shudder. He sucks Phil harder, feeling the weight of Phil's cock on his tongue as he speeds up his movements.

Dan remembers blowjobs to be pretty fast. He also never gave one to a man older than twenty, though, and his jaw starts to ache once he realises that Phil isn't going to be pushed over the edge as quickly as he's used to.

He pulls off to give his jaw a break, stroking Phil and pressing his open mouth along the side of him.

"You think I feel nice?" Dan laughs, pleased by the way the gust of air makes Phil's cock twitch. "Fucking, forgot how good this feels."

"Yeah?" Phil prompts, his voice deep and breathy and so, so nice to listen to. No wonder he's so successful on the radio. "You like sucking cock?"

Dan shivers. "Yeah," he says. He's unashamed, because he feels safe here with Phil. He can admit to liking a cock in his mouth, a hand in his hair, being called pretty. "Yours specifically, though."

Phil laughs. "That's good. I like specifically your cock, too." He looks over at his kitchen for a moment and raises his eyebrows. "I'll get dressed and answer the door when the pizza gets here if you can make me come in the next five minutes."

Well. Never let it be said that Dan Howell backs down from a challenge.

[boywizardscanbecute]

Confidence is Key

Hey guys! Sorry it’s so late, but as you all know by now I invest a lot of time and content into my stories. Here’s the Draco x reader Yule ball fic requested! This story had less drama and felt a lot more laid back. Reading it back, I think it’s a really fun one. Enjoy! And as always feel free to drop ideas and prompts in my inbox! Sweet Dreams loves <3 

request from @gred-and-forge-weaslley: Can you do a Draco x reader imagine during fourth year, maybe something with the yule ball? 

Word count: SHIT YOU NOT ITS EXACTLY 6666 AND NOW IM SCARED AHHHH 

Summary: It’s fourth year, the yule ball is coming up, and you’re anxious no one will ask you. Based on a Hufflepuff, sorry guys :) Note: in this version, the Quidditch season was not canceled for the triwizard tournament because in the words of Oliver Wood, “YOU CANT CANCEL QUIDDITCH” PS- I made this character exude confidence in the hopes that every person that reads this realize that you have great things to offer and should be confident in yourself.

    “Shit shit shit I’m late again,” you rush out of the common room, broom in hand, sprinting down to practice. Rounding the corner to the front of the castle you smack into a blond haired boy, both of you knocked back on the ground. “Oh shit I am so sorry,” you apologize. Looking up you see it’s Draco Malfoy. “Pathetic Puff. Watch where you’re going next time l/n,” he spits at you. Ignoring him, you hop back to your feet and run out of the castle, headed for the pitch, the November wind whipping against your cheeks. 

    “You’re late,” Cedric tells you, with a slight frown on his face. “I know I’m so sorry,” you say breathlessly. He just sighs and says, “Get on your broom. We’re doing passing drills with the Quaffle right now.” You nod and push off hard from the ground, stopping next to your other teammates. Putting your all into practice, you manage to score three times on Fleet, the keeper on your team. “Alright guys, good work. Now go shower!” Cedric calls out to all of you. You land gently and stride back up towards the castle, groaning at the Slytherins who now approach for their own practice slot. “Just ignore them,” Cedric walks beside you. “That’s nearly impossible,” you shoot back. “Well try at least,” Cedric nearly pleads. But the conflict was unavoidable.

    Walking straight up to you Draco teases, “Did you manage to run into more people on your broom l/n?” You attempt to push past him, but he repeatedly blocks your path. “Bet you flew into all of your teammates didn’t you?” Huffing, you growl, “Let me by Malfoy.” Cedric realizes you’re not behind him and looks back from the steps of the castle. “Uh oh this isn’t good,” he mutters under his breath. “Gonna run into me too?” Draco laughs. He made your blood boil at that moment, you weren’t usually his choice of prey. Draco sneers, looking down at you. “Please get out of my way,” you give him one last chance. When he doesn’t move, you check him hard in the shoulder, knocking him backwards and off balance. “I gave you a chance,” you grit your teeth and move towards the castle. Behind you, Draco watches you with surprise and intrigue. Approaching Cedric you shrug, “He was asking for it.” He groans in reply, “Y/n. I can’t have you getting banned from another match. You’re the best chaser we’ve got. Please control your temper.” You frown, “Alright Ced I’ll try.” Satisfied with your answer, he heads to the library and you head to the common room.

    The next morning you wake up, muscles extremely sore from going so hard at practice last night. Running late, you throw on your robes and tie your hair up in a thick ponytail and hustle into your routine.Throughout the day your friends from other houses ask you about the upcoming match against Slytherin. Neville runs up to you, “Ready for the match Saturday y/n?” “Always,” you reply with a stern look on your face. He laughs, “You’re probably the toughest Hufflepuff I know.” Replying you ask, “Now why does everyone keep saying that?” Neville thinks about it for a minute as the two of you continue towards Herbology. After a pause he says, “Well because you are really tough. Sometimes I’m surprised you’re not in Gryffindor. You face every problem, every bully head on, not fearing the consequences. You never back down from a fight. And you’re probably the most competitive Quidditch player I know besides Oliver Wood.” You grow quiet as you walk in stride next to him. “Are these good things?” you whisper. Neville realizes how you must have taken it and hastily reassures you, “They are great things! They’re really attractive qualities. You’d be surprised about how many conversations I hear of guys mooning over you.” You snort with laughter, “That’s a lie Neville and you know it.” He shrugs, “Suit yourself, but I swear I’m telling the truth.” You playfully roll your eyes and enter the greenhouse, Neville entering behind you.

    Maybe Neville was right. You work with your friends Justin and Hannah and can overhear a conversation at the next station. Blaise Zabinini whispers, “Have you seen her play Quidditch? Believe me I try to hate all Puff’s but she’s phenomenal.” Adrien Pucey agrees, adding, “I almost wish she was in Slytherin so she could play for us.” Draco rolls his eyes at his friends hissing, “Aren’t you dooey eyed boys going to finish this assignment?” Blaise argues, “Come on Draco. Even you can’t deny how good she looks playing Quidditch. Or just in general.” Draco shrugs, “What does that matter?” Blaise sniggers saying, “Well, if you answer the question I’ll stop bothering you and leave you alone.” This was all too attractive of an offer so Draco confesses, “Yes, she’s the most talented Quidditch player I know, and she happens to be the most attractive fourth year. Now can I please go back to my work?” Blaise nods, adding under his breath, “She’s the only person whose ever left Draco speechless too.” He was referring to you shoving him after practice last night.

    Suddenly your face flushes beet red and you can’t concentrate on your work. “Y/n are you okay?” Justin asks concerned. You shake out of your daze, “What? Oh yeah I’m fine.” You finish the work mindlessly, your mind traveling back to the conversation you overheard. When the lesson is over you walk out of the greenhouse, catching up to Neville. He raises his eyebrows at you in question. “You were right,” you admit. He laughs, “What did you hear?” Groaning you answer, “Some Slytherin boys talking about how I play Quidditch. Which doesn’t make sense to me at all. I don’t have a feminine build like other girls our age. I’m bulky, granted that’s from playing Quidditch, but I am! I don’t have dainty hips but I don’t have curves. I’m built like a 15 year old male athlete. How can that be attractive?” Neville listens to you ramble and comments, “It’s your confidence. You’re always extremely confident. Plus the way you’re skilled at Quidditch really is amazing. I even heard Viktor Krum complimenting how you play the other day.” You gasp, “No you didn’t! Neville Longbottom you better be teasing or I swear to god!” He chuckles, raising his hands in defeat he says, “Honest! I really heard him say that!” That silences you. Nearing the great hall you whisper to Neville, “That doesn’t change the fucked up way my body is built.” Neville turns to you and says, “Y/n, you are my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you, nor could I lie to you because you know me too well. And I’m telling you you are attractive.” Grinning in appreciation you say, “Thanks Neville. See you at the match tomorrow!” He waves and heads over to eat lunch with the other Gryffindors.

    Later that night you wander back to Hufflepuff common room from the library, a stack of books piled high in your arms. For the second time that week you run into someone. Your books scattered all over the marble floor. “I’m sorry,” you start to say but find yourself looking into the clear gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. Snorting, you correct yourself, “Actually I’m not.” Draco watches you with intriguing curiosity. Sighing, you begin to pick up your books. Silently, Draco bends down and helps you collect them. “Thanks, I guess,” you reluctantly tell him. He nods. Before you turn to leave he jokes, “You gave me quite the shove the other day.” Sensing the tone you tease back, “You had it coming.” He laughs, “I suppose I did.” This was a whole new side of Draco Malfoy. Or was it? You’d never interacted with him enough in the past to know for sure. But he was being friendly so you continue the conversation, “Ready for the match tomorrow?” He grins wickedly, “Always ready. The question is are you?” You blush under his intense gaze managing to say, “You have seen me play haven’t you?” He temporarily drops the teasing saying, “Yeah. You’re almost as good as Viktor Krum.” The blush creeps from your neck onto your cheeks, making you self conscious. “Well thanks Malfoy. You’re not too bad yourself,” you compliment. He shrugs off the compliment instead continuing to give you another. “I wish you could play for us. We could really use you,” he says. You laugh, “In your dreams. You’ll just have to cope without me.” He laughs. A silence passes over you, the books weighing down in your hands. So you announce, “Well I better be off. Gotta get lots of rest before we crush you tomorrow. Night Malfoy.” You flash a grin in his direction before leaving. “Night y/n,” he replies.

    The next morning you wake up extremely early, getting ready for the match. You had a pre-match ritual that you went through every single time. First you braid your hair back into a high ponytail and place a black ribbon around it. Pulling on your yellow Quidditch robes, you rummage around for your lucky socks. “Aha!” you exclaim, finding them in the back of your dresser. They had a pattern of Nifflers on them, which happened to be your favorite magical creature. “Good luck today! You’ll do great!” Hannah Abbott calls after you as you leave the common room, broom in tow.

    It was as if overnight, your newfound confidence that you were apparently unaware of, grew fantastically. You made a mental note to thank Neville. You felt Draco’s eyes on you as you sat down in the Great Hall. Shamelessly, you fuel up for the game, eating toast, eggs, sausage, and 2 glasses of orange juice. Satisfied, you exit the great hall and head for the pitch.

    As a part of your pre-game ritual you sat in the middle of the field, legs crossed and eyes closed, ignoring the light dusting of snow that left your backside damp. You focus your energy on the match, concentrating on relaxing your muscles so you’re free to move really quickly and flexibly. “I figured I’d find you hear,” a voice breaks your focus. Peeking one eye open, you look up and see Cedric watching you. “What do you want Ced? I didn’t beat up Malfoy, you don’t have to worry.” He laughs and sits next to you. He exudes nerves and you reluctantly inquired, turning to face him. “Alright Ced. Spill it,” you say. He sighs, “I asked Cho to the Yule ball.” You tilt your chin up, “And?” He groans, “And she said yes and I guess we’re a thing now and I don’t know, she’s coming to the match today so now I’m nervous.” Your laugh comes out as a bark, your chest shaking with amusement. “Cedric Diggory I have nervous seen you nervous before for a Quidditch match.” He responds, “I know, I know! That’s why I’m worried. We need this win to stay in play for the cup. I don’t want to fuck this up.” Growing serious you tell him, “Ced, your opposing seeker is Draco. He’s talented, but he’s easily distracted. The win’s in the bag.” Cedric laughs, “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re cocky?” Shaking your head you say, “Cocky maybe. But also right. Trust me. Forget Draco, forget Cho, just focus on the game. Alright?” He nods. Standing, he pats you on the back and says, “Changing rooms in 5.” “Alright,” you reply.

    Sighing, you refocus your energy on the match. Barely a minute later another figure approaches. “For the love of god could I just get some time to concentrate!” you complain, blinking your eyes open. Draco stood above you, smirking at your ritual. “Just came to wish you luck,” he holds back a laugh. Standing, you wipe your hands on your knees and say, “I don’t need it. But thanks anyways.” He chuckles, “See you in the air,” and walks to the other side of the stadium where the Slytherin team waits. You walk to the dressing room and enter, barely listening to Cedric’s usual motivational speech. “Ready?” Fleet elbows you, pulling your focus back in. “More than ever,” you grin wickedly. As Cedric passes you he asks, “Keep the temper in check yeah?” You reply, “I’ll try my hardest.” You follow your teammates out on the field and line up, waiting for Madam Hooch’s signal.

    The whistle blows and the Quaffle’s up in the air. Shooting towards it, you kick  it soccer style, over your shoulder to your fellow chaser Peter. Without a look back you fly to the other end of the pitch, waiting in position. The Quaffle transfers handlers so quickly that Marcus Flint, the Slytherin keeper, doesn’t see it land in your hands. Pawing it with one hand, you toss it through the left hoop easily. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Slytherin gets possession and you back track, ready to intercept. Fleet had no problem with you hanging by the goal posts. And as the Quaffle flies towards the center hoop, he bounces it off of the tail of his broom, directing it towards you. Snatching it, you race in the other direction, charging the hoops instead of passing. The adrenaline rushing through you, you whip the ball over Marcus’s head through the center hoop. Cedric swoops past shouting, “That’s great, keep it up, but use your passes!” He was right. Returning your focus to the Quaffle you watch it land in Peter’s arm as he makes his way across the field. A Slytherin chaser slams into him, forcing him to drop the Quaffle. “Oh Foul! That’s a foul!” you shout angrily. But Madam Hooch didn’t see it. Peter regains his balance and shoots you a reassuring grin. Diving towards the ground you scoop up the Quaffle and reposition yourself, looking for an opening. Your other chaser, Heidi, was open near the base of the right hoop. You chucked the ball to her, watching with bated breath to see if she catches it. You don’t get a chance to see though, because half a second later a huge green mass slams into you, knocking you from your broom. Luckily you weren’t that far from the ground, but the wind was still knocked out of you as hit the grass, your broom landing softly next to you. Sitting up on your elbows, you could swear steam poured from your ears. The whistle blows, calling a stop to the game. First Madam Hooch approaches Goyle. “Goyle, that’s illegal contact, forcefully violent! Second offense, you’re benched from this match!” Goyle screams in outrage and she silences him with her wand. Then she turns to you. You hastily stood up, feeling your face. The blood was coming from your nose, as it received the brunt of Goyle’s elbow. Your arms and legs were only slightly scuffed up from hitting the ground. Coughing, you pull your mouth guard out and taste blood. You turn your head a spit some blood into the grass. Hooch lets you wipe your mouth before saying, “Well l/n what’ll be? You have a sub if you need.” She waits. You look at Cedric and read his face clearly. He wanted you to stay in, and you couldn’t blame him. The only sub chaser you had was Ernie MacMillan and he wasn’t great. Spitting again you tell her, “I’m staying in.” She smirks, “I figured as much. You’ll have to see Madam Pomfrey after the match, but you should be fine.” Nodding, you shove your mouthguard back in and mount your broom. When the whistle blows, you kick off with newfound determination.

    Your resilience wasn’t lost on anyone, and with the Slytherin’s being down a beater you went on to score three more times. It was 70-50 and you paused for a moment, scanning the field for any sign of the snitch. The blood dried on your face, a line of it dripping from your nose. Wiping it on your sleeve you watch a gold glint hovering at the edge of the stands. Cedric who was determinedly focused saw it as well. So did Draco. It was a close race as they both reached for the snitch. The snitch traveled lower to the ground, now hovering only 2 feet from the grass. Cedric smartly tucked his feet up, but Draco didn’t, losing his balance. Cedric was victorious and held the snitch up in his fist. Cheering, you joined your team as you all dog piled on top of your seeker. Feeling eyes on you, you looked up to see Draco smiling at you.

    As you walked back to the castle with your teammates Cedric said, “Thanks for staying in the match. You’re a real warrior.” You laugh and ask, “How bad is it?” Cedric tries not to chuckle and responds, “You’ve got a dried trail of blood going from your nose all the way down your chin and neck. You’ve also got blood on your sleeve.” “Course I do,” you joke sarcastically. When you near the kitchens Cedric says, “Go get fixed up. The party will still be here when you get back.” “Alright,” you sigh and march up to the hospital wing.

    When you enter Madam Pomfrey frowns, “Good god girl what did you get into this time?” She was annoyed at seeing you so many times. You bite back a laugh, “It was the Quidditch match. We were playing Slytherin what can you expect?” She nods knowingly. “Sit there,” she commands, pointing to a stool outside of her office. “Lumos,” she mutters, peering into your nostrils. “Ruptured blood vessel, nothing too serious. In fact it’s pretty common amongst Quidditch players so I’m sure you’ll experience it again,” she comments. Pointing her wand at the afflicted spot she says, “Tergeo.” You feel the slit in your nose close up. “Now go clean yourself up,” she laughs at the state of you. “Yes Madam Pomfrey,” you hop up and exit.

    Outside there’s someone waiting for you. Draco walks up beside you and asks, “All fixed up?” “Yeah,” you laugh in his direction. He takes your hand and stops you walking. “What’s up?” you huff. He sighs, “Goyle’s a gigantic mass with no brain. I’m sorry he did that.” Your jaw drops in surprise. “Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault?” you question. Running a hand through his hair he states, “I didn’t want to see you get hurt.” “Oh,” you say lamely. You both stand there, shuffling your feet awkwardly. “You know I admire your tenacity. You’re so determined,” Draco comments. “Thank you,” you reply. For the first time in your life, you look Draco Malfoy in the eyes. They were extremely peculiar, you’d never seen a pair of gray eyes before. Draco studies your own e/c ones. Reaching up he hesitates, but wipes a flake of dry blood from beneath your nose. You close your eyes at his touch. Laughing nervously you ask, “So are we like friends now?” He shrugs, “I guess.” Smiling you say, “Works for me.” He stands there once again silent until you announce, “Look Draco I’ve got a party waiting for me back in the common room. I’ll see you later.” He smiles, “See you later y/n.” And he strolls away, hands in his pockets.

    The celebration of the match was glorious and you got absolutely wasted off of firewhiskey. As a result you woke up the next morning with a headache. When you emerge into the common room, you’re met with a questioning look from Cedric. “What?” you laugh at his expression. He shakes his head, “Nothing, I just thought my eyes deceived me last night. Are you friends with Draco Malfoy now?” You shrug innocently, “I guess so. Is that a problem?” He chooses his words carefully before saying, “You pick your own friends. But you should now I haven’t heard anything positive mentioned about him. Ever. And you’re gonna get judged by some other people.” You laugh, “Cedric I really don’t give a fuck what people think about me so that’s not a problem.” He laughs and leaves you with a, “Well alright then.”

    He was right. Over the next two weeks you got the biggest death glares and all the slytherin girls shot daggers at you. But like you told Cedric, you really couldn’t care less. Besides your time with Draco mainly consisted of studying and homework, with the usual teasing mixed in. Waiting for Draco in the library, you smile as Neville approaches you. “Alright there y/n?” he smiles. “I’m great Neville thanks for asking. Just ready for break,” you admit. He intercedes, “But aren’t you at least excited for the yule ball?” Instantly you groan, “No. No one’s asked me yet and it’s two weeks away. That means no one wants to go with me. Or they’re scared of me. Or both.” Neville chirps, “Cheer up y/n. I’m sure someone will ask you soon.” You shake your head, “I don’t think so. Especially now that I’ve started hanging out with Draco.” Neville considers the thought and asks, “Why are you hanging out with him?” You sigh, “I don’t know, he was nice to me. Besides that he just gets my personality. None of my other friends like to be competitive or get teased. What’s the fun in that?” Neville snorts, “Well you are unique in that. Not everyone appreciates your dry sense of humour.” You nod, a knowing look on your face. “Who are you going with?” you continue. Neville beams, “Ginny. Just as friends but I’m really looking forward to it.” Draco entered the library and walked over. “That’s great Neville, I’ll see you,” you squeeze his hand. He gets up and says, “See you.”

    “What was that about?” Draco immediately questions. You tease, “Why are you so worried Malfoy?” He ignores your teasing comment and waits for you to answer. “Relax we were just catching up. He was telling me about how he’s going to the Yule Ball with Ginny.” “Oh,” Draco noticeably relaxes. You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and ask, “So who are you going with?” Draco’s teasing demeanor returns as he says, “Jealous are we?” “No,” you blurt a little too quickly. Ignoring this he looks away and admits, “I haven’t asked anyone yet.” “Oh,” you try and hide your surprise. Poking at his pet peeves you laugh, “I was sure Pansy Parkinson would be begging you to go by now?” He immediately grows frustrated and groans, “She has. Asked that is. 5 times. She’s a relentless shrew.” You snort with laughter and can’t stop laughing. “That’s the perfect description of her,” you wheeze. Madam Pince comes over and snaps, “Malfoy! L/n! Quiet please!” You gulp and nod. After she walks away Draco declares, I’m not gonna get any work done tonight.” “Me neither,” you agree. Building up the courage Draco asks, “So which of our dooey eyed classmates asked you?” The use of his words brought you back to the day you overheard him saying you were the most attractive girl in fourth year. Laughing cynically you say, “Absolutely no one has asked me.Not a soul.” Draco snorts with laughter and you think it’s a beautiful sound. “I find that hard to believe,” he says truthfully. You look at him across the table, trying to decide if he was joking or not. Finally you shrug, “I suspect they’re just scared of me after watching that Quidditch match.” Draco considers the thought. So comfortable with your new companion you let slip, “I think they’re all scared of me.” Immediately, your hand shoots up to your mouth and you blush with embarrassment. Draco sympathizes with you. “I am not scared of you y/n,” he states plainly. You smile gratefully at him, “And thank god for that. You’re the greatest friend I never knew I needed.” He only pauses briefly at your revelation before admitting, “Likewise. You’re my best friend.” The thought made you grin like a goof. It got really late and you and Draco decided to go your separate ways and off to bed. You felt like a weight had been lifted for you, admitting even just an inkling of the worries you experienced to Draco. Below you in the dungeons Draco hatched a plan. A plan that was seriously outgoing for him, but matched your confidence perfectly.  

    Your next match was against Ravenclaw, the competition fierce. On Saturday morning you saunter down to the Great Hall to eat breakfast before the match. Draco is also there, which is surprisingly early for him. Grinning, you walk up to him. “Coming to the match today?” you ask him. He looks at you like you’re stupid. He rolls his eyes, “No. I’m not going to come and support my best friend.” You nudge him in the shoulders at his joke. After a pause you ask, “But seriously, you’ll be there?” He stares at you seriously and answers, “I wouldn’t miss it.” “Thanks,” you hug him, which felt surprisingly normal. Retreating back to your table for breakfast you add, “Meet me on the field for my pre-match ritual.” Smirking, he nods.

    You shovel down your breakfast quickly and strut out to the field. There was a thick layer of snow but nevertheless you sat in the grass, crossing your legs and closing your eyes. Draco soon walks up to you. “Got all the blood stains out of your uniform I see,” he comments. “Took three spells but yes I did,” you reply. Setting down his book bag, he sits across from you. “Why do you have your bag?” you ask him. He shrugs, “Dunno. Habit I guess. Not important, you’ve got to focus now.” You smile at how well he already knew you. Taking a deep breath you hold out the palms of your hands. Draco sits there and watches you. After a beat you open one eye and say, “Draco idiot, take my hands.” “Oh,” he replies, hastily placing his hands on top of your own. Beginning with deep breaths you instruct, “Concentrate on the match. Or me. Basically concentrate on how well you want me to do, or what you want the outcome of today to be. Then channel that energy into my hands.” He groans, “This is stupid y/n.” You scold him, “If you think it’s stupid then leave. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t, but it helps me unwind before the match.” His hands don’t leave yours and he sighs loudly, taking a deep breath and following your instructions. You hoped he was thinking about you winning. But he wasn’t. Inside Draco’s mind he thought, “Okay, I'm thinking about y/n. She’s such a great friend and I want her to win today. I always want what’s best for her. Most importantly, when I ask her to the Yule Ball, I want her to be excited. I want her to say yes.”

    After another five minutes of this, you stand up, pulling Draco up with you. As soon as your palms leave his, the spark there fizzles out. Walking with you over to the changing room Draco says, “Good luck y/n. I’ll be in the stands watching. Look for me!” You grin, “Thanks Drac. I will. See you afterwards.” He shuffles into the stands, his hand on his bookbag.

    Ravenclaw didn’t play dirty, like Slytherin did, but they were extremely good. You were instructed by Cedric to score as quickly, and as frequently as possible. Because when the snitch was spotted, he told the team he would go for it, otherwise the game would last at least three hours. It was hard to score, Ravenclaw focusing on defense. Glancing at the scoreboard it was 30-30 and you’d been playing for an hour. Cedric floats near you as you briefly slow down. You groan in exhaustion, “Cedric Diggory you better catch that snitch.” He doesn’t answer, his eyes continually scanning the field for the shiny gold snitch.

    Another hour later and you were losing speed fast. The score only went up to 50-50 and you badly needed a break, the December air biting at your bones. From the corner of your eye, you’re thrilled to see the golden snitch. Cedric dives for it. So does Cho. You groaned at the thought of Cedric letting Cho win due to the nature of their relationship. Lucky for you, he doesn’t. In the last second, he snatches the snitch from the air, Cho’s hand closing around Cedric’s as she reached for it a second too late. The crowd was shocked and cheered loudly. You looked around for Draco, who would no doubt be cheering you on. Your eyes find his platinum blonde head, holding a large banner in his hands, but you couldn’t read it from where you were. Pushing your broom foreword, you swoop down to him, pausing in front of the banner. It read in yellow letters, “Will the best Quidditch player be my date to the Yule Ball?” Your breath catches in your throat. Everyone in the crowd stared at the banner. Draco smiled nervously from behind it and says, “How ‘bout y/n?” Grinning stupidly you yanked out your mouthpiece and shout over the rest of the crowd’s murmurings, “Yes! I’d love to go with you!” Draco beamed and put down his banner. “Meet me outside the pitch,” you tell him, whipping your broom around.

    Crashing down hard against the ground, your knees buckle briefly as you weave through your teammates, eager to get to Draco. Cedric stops you, “That gesture was quite un-malfoy like. What gives?” He still blocked your path. Pushing against his shoulder you reply, “When I find out I’ll tell you.” “Alright alright,” he gives in chuckling and let’s you aside. You burst through the gate, searching for Draco. He stands against a tree about 20 feet away, arms crossed, smirking in your direction. Grinning, you run up to him. Dropping your broom, he envelopes you in a hug, his arms holding you close. You felt you could stay that way forever, but your curiosity got the better of you. Picking your head up off of his chest you look up at him and ask cheekily, “What gives Malfoy?” There was no humour on his face as he shrugs, “Dunno. Maybe I just like you?” You study him intensely, rising up on your tiptoes to get a closer look at his face. He meets your gaze with an equally strong look of his own. Sighing you poke his chest and ask, “You sure you just didn’t feel bad for me for not having a date?” He shakes his head, “I’m sure.” Raising an eyebrow you pester, “No games? No tricks?” This time he laughs wholeheartedly, “No games or tricks. I just like you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?” Sighing you gaze at the ground, “I don’t know. I mean I knew you thought I was attractive but I didn’t think you actually liked me for real.” He boldly takes your hands and whispers, “How could I not like you? You’re amazing to be around.” You bite down on your lip hard, deciding what to do next. Returning his boldness, you stand on your tiptoes and kissed him before you can chicken out. Draco leans back for a brief moment in surprise before his instincts kick in. He casually places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer as his lips stay on yours. Your arms wrap around his neck as you stay on your tiptoes to continue kissing him. The last crowds string out of the pitch and shout loudly, “OOOOOOOOOOOOH!” Embarrassed, you bring your feet back down to the grass, lowering yourself from the kiss. Looking up at your best friend, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes dance wildly as he looks at you. “You’re a pretty good kisser Malfoy,” you tease him. And suddenly it felt like things were normal again, as if nothing had changed.He smirks, “Well you’re not so bad yourself.” You grin proudly. The sky got dark and Draco commented, “We should probably head back to the castle.” You nod, picking up your broomstick. Draco offers you his hand. Wordlessly you take it, and stroll with him back to the castle.

    Your attitude towards the Yule Ball instantly flipped from dread to excitement after Draco had asked you. The days felt the same, and yet totally different. You still spend all of your time with him, but this time there was kisses and close contact mixed in. As soon as he asked you, you went the very next day to Hogsmeade to get your dress. Feeling uncomfortable in your tall, bulky, athletic frame, it was hard for you to decide on a dress. Eventually you found the perfect one. With a high neckline and capped sleeves, the bodice sparkled with emerald beads. An A-line skirt flowed out from the bodice, the material the same emerald green but in satin. The back of the dress dipped low, down below where a bra line would be. But your favorite part was the pockets. You bought it immediately.

    Sooner than you would have wanted, the Ball was here. Usually confident, you’d never been more nervous for anything in your life. You got ready alone, the shock of your and Draco’s new relationship still sending shockwaves through the house of Hufflepuff. Admittedly you had some trouble. Being an athlete you almost never wore makeup. But somehow you managed to perform the eyelash extension charm and add a light pink blush to your cheeks. You swiped on one layer of a light pearl eye shadow that brought out the whites of your eyes. Finishing the look, you put on a deep red lipstick. Hannah Abbott was gracious enough to do your hair, you were hopeless at it. “Thank you so much,” you tell her as she sweeps your curled h/c locks into an elegant side bun. “It’s no problem,” she chirps, “I know everyone else has been giving you a rough time but in the end you should just do what makes you happy.” You smile at her insightfulness. “That’s great advice,” you tell her. She smiles at you in the mirror. A few minutes later she’s done and you stare in awe at the way she had managed to sweep your hair so elegantly to the side of your head. You place plain diamond studs in your ears and hunt for your shoes. Smiling, you pull out your white converse and slip them on. “Dear god what are you doing?” Heidi laughs at your shoe selection. You shoot back, “My dress is so long no one will see them anyways. You know me, I am not the girly type.” “Oh yes I know,” she laughs. The two girls make there way to the great hall and you follow shortly after.

    The ball had already started and Draco stood against a pillar, looking around anxiously. Peeking around the corner, you gasp at how handsome he looks in his tux. His silver bowtie matched his eyes perfectly and you were sure it was charmed. Leaning against the wall you suck in a breath. “Pull it together l/n,” you scold yourself. Letting out a slew of noises, you compose yourself and emerge from the corridor, making your way towards Draco.

    Draco’s eyes fall on you and he lets out a long, low whistle. Blushing, you walk quickly towards him. Drinking you in with his eyes he says, “You look absolutely ravishing y/n.” Pushing him playfully you say, “Draco Malfoy quit making me blush!” His voice comes out low, “It’s not my fault you look extremely attractive when you blush.” Giving him one last playful swat, you kiss him gently. He leaned into the kiss, but you tease him, pulling back. He gives you a pouty look. “I believe you asked me to a ball?” you raise your eyebrows at him. He sighs, “I did. But you’re mine later darling.” “We’ll see,” you smirk, pulling him into the Great Hall.

    The ball was spectacular, icicles hanging from the magical ceiling. You breathe in the energy of the night, and excitement fills your chest. Leading you to the dancefloor Draco says, “Dance with me?” “Happy to,” you reply, taking his offered hand. Boy did Draco Malfoy sure know how to waltz. With one hand on your hip, the other intertwined with one of your own hands, he lead you through all the steps gently. “You’re so light on your feet,” you tell him. He shrugs, “I’ve had years of practice from all the ministry events my parents dragged me to. Maybe I’ll bring you to the next one. Anything to see you in this dress again.” Gazing into his eyes you ask, “You really like it? I chose green because.. Well. you.” He beams widely, “I love it darling. It’s so flattering on you, though the back is a bit low,” he grins, wiggling his fingers on your bare skin for emphasis. It makes you shiver. Draco laughs mischievously at this. There’s a brief break in the music and you fiddle with his bow tie. “I like how it matches your eyes perfectly,” you tell him. “Thank you,” he replies.

    The music slows into a tender ballad and Draco removes his hands from yours, placing them around your waist. You lace your own fingers together behind his neck and try to stand flat. “Could you lean your head down a little bit?” you ask him, “You’re awfully tall you know.” He laughs and dips his head a bit, letting you rest flat on your feet. Your dress swishes around as Draco twirls you and he catches sight of your shoes. “Interesting choice,” he bemuses. You crack a smile, “I couldn’t help myself. You’re lucky you got the dress. I’m not very feminine Draco.” His mouth narrows as he states, “I know you’re not. That’s what I like about you.” He states this as a plain fact. “Thank you,” you take the compliment. “So what do you like about me?” Draco implores you. Deciding to abandon your teasing tone you tell him, “Everything. I like everything about you Draco.” He bites back a gasp and you smirk satisfied at catching him off guard. His head dips lower as he places his lips on yours. You smile into his lips, your fingers lightly playing with his hair. His bare hands warmed up the bare part of the small of your back that showed. And as he continued to kiss you, you felt the rest of the world fade away. Still swaying gently to the music, you let the passion build in your chest. Draco only pulls away when he runs out of breathe. He wears a look of satisfaction when he notices how swollen your lips are. “I could kiss you everyday and it still wouldn’t be enough,” he confesses, his hands leaving your waist to hold your own hands. You shake your head and place his hands back on your waist, his fingers yet again splaying across your bare back. He smiles at your boldness. “You’re confidence is extremely sexy,” he tells you. Looking into his beautiful gray eyes you reply, “Draco, shut up and kiss me.” And he happily does so.

[lovelyyy-luna]

✶march 13, 2021✶

It's alright, I'm right here

Why did you choose me? \ You know very well why Y/N

I can do it myself

I'm a monster \ no you're not

Please hold me

I'm begging you please don't lock yourself in your room

Give me one single fucking reason why I shouldn't leave

That wasn’t a question

Don't listen to them

Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that

I don't care what they think, to me, you are perfect.

You don't have to be alone

This is illegal

Your tutor is pretty hot

Why have you been so secretive lately?

I think we should take a break

How come you're the only one that can see me?

I just wanted to hear your voice

I'm not helping you babysit

Did we sleep together?

If you don't do it I will?

You're scared? Really?

This place is abandoned, don't worry

This was a stupid idea

This is crazy..none of this is real

You need to believe me, please!

Close the door

It’s three in the morning

I should have told you a long time ago

Why are you helping me?

You're in love with her

We could get arrested to this

Love is overrated

Watch me

I've missed this

Was it all a lie?

This is all your fault

Are you happy now? Huh? Does this make you happy?

Maybe I'm meant to be alone

Did it ever occur to you that I'm hurting too?

You said that you'd always be there for me. What happened?

I'm sorry what are you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes

If I ever see you anywhere near her, you'll have to deal with me

Is that a challenge

Get behind me now!

Here I have an extra weapon

You scared the shit out of me, I'm never letting you go

I am not jealous

I think I love you

Don't be silly I want to stay up with you

How about a kiss?

Dance with me!

We’d make a cute couple

Do you trust me?

if you don't want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don't just lie and say it's fine.

Stop staring at me

I said I don't know anything

You don’t think its a bit much

Call me one more time to see what happens

Put some clothes on for the love of god

Can you just give me a hug? Just once?

That was the last time. Im serious this time

It’s pitch black in here and I can see you're blushing

Am I supposed to be scared of you?

I want to take a shower so you should probably join me. It'll save water

You're just not the same anymore

It's midnight where the hell are you

What the hell if your problem

Why do you run away from all your problems?

You can't keep it all inside you know? Bottling it up won't do you any good

Hey I know you're hurting but you're not alone okay

I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression

You can't just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset

Calm down you're scaring me

Don't look at me like that

Were you ever going to tell me?

Sorry doesn't fix everything

I loved you first

You broke my heart

I was alone

We have to stop

You left me

I can't do this anymore

Your hair is really soft after you wash it

Shh stop fussing I’m just braiding your hair

Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you

If you steal the blankets I am going to put my cold feet on you

Here let’s share the blanket

You Are comfy

You are my new pillow

But I want to hear you sing

We can talk over dinner

Don't get up I’ll do it

Stargazing was a good idea

I'll be here to protect you

It’s okay I couldn't sleep anyway

I heard you talking in your sleep

Your bedhead is really cute

I love your hugs

You mess with them you mess with me

I don't want to sleep alone tonight

I love you, you know that right

I'm Coming to get you to stay there

Okay so don't freak out but I got flour everywhere

Woah I never knew you had a tattoo

Stop moving

Im worried about you

What happened to you

You can't stay in bed all days 

You're a terrible liar

Don't act so innocent

Do you believe in soulmates?

What if something happens to you

Are you sure about this

I gotta say I’m a little surprised

I'm not a child

You're screwed

You called me to remember

Do you need to go to the hospital?

Sleep is for the weak

I don't like the way they look at you

I don't want to be friends

Let's get out of here

Maybe you should sit down

You're burning up

I've got your back

Walk it off

I wish I could sleep

I'm going back to bed

Your heart is pounding

It's too early for this

Get on your knees

I thought you said you knew where you were going? Yeah I lied

Shit you're freezing let's get you warmed up alright

What happened to me

Im not letting you sleep on the floor get up here

Everything I’ve done for you’s the only thing in the world that matters to me

Feel like another round?

You were great last night

Wow you look even better in daylight

My clothes look better on you than they do on me

I had no idea you were into that stuff glad I found out

You should play with my hair more

I don't remember ever having this many hickeys but I don't mind

I don't know your name but you can share it with me so I know what to scream this time

The fun doesn't have to end

I think I can convince you to stay

Are you even listening to me?

Leave right now

What more do you want?

I hate you

Can you just shut the fuck up already

What the hell is wrong with you

I can't do this anymore

Oh my god I don't care

That hurt you son of a bitch

Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight

I can break your nose if I wanted 

Meet me on the bridge in an hour

No one needs to know

No one will ever hurt you again

None of that matters now

Oh my god! You're in love with her/him/them!

Please don't cry

Please don't leave

Please listen to me

Please say something

Promise me you won't let anything happen to him/her/them

Promise me you'll stay

Shit are you bleeding

Shut up and kiss me

Somebodies in love

Sorry I thought I was alone

Stop0 talking about love for a minute and help me with this bullet wound

Tell me a secret

You said you'd always be there for me so how did this happen why weren't you there for me

Did it occur to you that you're hurting me toto

We can be friends instead

I tried to move on but nobody is you

Does it look like I moved on

I don't remember a fight or a reason so what happened why did we make up

Can I at least buy you coffee for old time’s sake?

I can’t take large loneliness anymore

What are you talking about your married

I feel like everyone forgot I exist

I gave you a chance and you used it to stab me in the back

I've been alone for so long

But you promised

I think you'll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear

I want you right here right now

Isn't this illegal probably

You're really drunk right now. I don't think you're gonna remember any of this. Non im not drunk at all you're just blurry

I have a feeling we should kiss. Is that a good feeling or a bad feeling

I love the way your hand fits in mine

You can call me whenever you want. Even if you don't have a reason to

I'm bad  at calling first so I always ending up hoping you will

Wait don't pull away not yet

You look really cute in that sweater

No like it just I can’t believe you’re  actually wearing my clothes

God you always make me blush so damn much

You've been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half because I know you're going to look so good and I need to try and match up

The first second I saw you I couldn't get over how beautiful you were

I wanted to say I love you for the first time without stuttering but that failed

Could you hold my hand?

You can't leave without letting me hug you first

I really love holding you darling

As you're blushing like a rose

Your lips are really warm

I can't get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me in my seater

My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes

Wanna like I mean if you're not busy we should get lunch or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time

Wow I didn't think you could make me smile this big

Quit smiling at me I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that

Your hair is so soft

It's too cold come back

No im not letting you go it's too early to get out of bed

Care you can sit in my lap until I’m done working

Shh you're safe I won't let you go

I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified

I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again I promise

Look I know we don't know each other all that well but im still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone

If I could I would kiss away all your scars

I think I might be falling in love with you

Your lips are soft I could kiss them all-day

It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a stronger person

Mmm you're so warm

You're cute when your half asleep like this

Please talk to me about his

I would've had breakfast ready but you were sleeping on my arm and didn't want to wake you up

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[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Tomorrow Never Came PT. 4

You have one job - travel decades into the past and save your mother from a horrible future. You can’t fail or you’ll have to start over again completely, and you have to act on your own. Already having broken rule number two, a new revelation forces you to reflect on how much impact you’ll truly have, not just on your mother’s life, but on other’s as well. 

Read PT. 1 here | Read PT. 2 here | Read PT. 3 here

(a/n: i wish i could have put more deacon in this ksdkfjsd i love him but it felt forced if i put too much in there. anyways big things happening here hehe ok not huge but still wild. im gonna go to a basketball game now pray that the nacho cheese is good bc im craving a walking taco)

“So you were just working and you heard this loud boom? That’s terrible!” Brian exclaimed, leaning forward from between you and John. His abnormally long legs were spread out, leaving you scarcely any room to sit comfortably as the six of you chatted away.

“Yes, it was quite terrifying, really,” Mary practically gushed, leaning over Freddie’s lap as they lounged on the floor together, Freddie’s back against the side of the chair Roger was casually seated in. “There were hundreds of us in there, I’d never learned any protocol on how to handle a bomb threat. Closed us down until a few days ago, the back room was in shambles!”

“Who did it?” you questioned, genuinely curious about who would have a beef with Biba in this day and age. That being said, you also knew this day and age almost purely in textbook definitions and whatever the limited scope of your world had to offer you in the last two months – so basically, you only knew 70’s Kensington.

“Wasn’t it the Angry Brigade?” John chimed in, rifling through a magazine lackadaisically as he spoke. “I think I read that they claimed it in IT.”

“What have they got to be so angry about?” you asked, Roger snorting and letting his head fall back against the chair as he rested a leg on Freddie’s shoulder, quickly getting it brushed off. Giving Freddie a sour look, he hooked his legs over the armrest instead, lazing back in the chair and getting extra comfortable as he began to speak.

“I’d be angry if I had horrid taste in clothing too. Imagine wanting to bomb Biba and thinking ‘Wow, I’m really letting those fashionable fuckers have it! Anarchy!’”

Freddie toyed with Mary’s hair as she draped herself over his lap completely. Smiling at the sweet gesture, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your right knee, looking down at the couch in front of you and tugging on a frayed fabric.

“Well, at least you’ve got a job again,” Freddie directed at Mary, who nodded and smiled as she leaned into his hand that was running through her hair.

“And you’ve got a place to come pester me besides my flat,” she added, laughing when Freddie retracted his hand and gave her a resentful glance before crossing his arms. “I’m joking, I love when you come see me at work, lovie! Don’t stop playing with my hair, I like it.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Freddie sighed before going back to running his fingers through her hair. You were observing their conversation all the while, so when they quieted, you looked up and found that Roger had also been watching them. He looked up and met your gaze, pretending to gag himself with his middle finger and making you laugh as you turned away from him.

“What’s so funny? Surely, it’s not Roger.” Brian’s tone held a sort of faux innocence, but he was clearly prying at Roger’s patience – what was new, though? In the handful of times you’d been around this rag tag group of friends for the past two months, they had tested each other’s patience in every way possible. Yet here everyone was, laughing and having a good time with each other over a couple bottles of cheap wine. You regretted that you didn’t get to spend more time with them – you used overtime hours at the café as an excuse, but you knew that it was mainly because you really didn’t want to cry any harder than you already were going to when you had to return to your actual reality.

“I’ll have you know, Brian, I’m a regular comedian!” Roger protested, taking a sip of his wine as he glared over the rim at the curly-haired giant next to you. “Y/N was laughing at me, in fact. Or maybe it was your pants, who knows?”

Brian looked down at his admittedly hideous trousers, a shitty shade of brown that did not compliment his skin tone well at all. On top of that, they were a horrendous pinstripe pattern, and they didn’t match the striped green jumper he had on. “I’d rather accept that than even entertain the notion that you were remotely funny enough to make anyone laugh.”

“Salty today, Brian?” you asked, giving him a gently nudge with your elbow and receiving a nudge in response as he chuckled, crossing his arms.

Suddenly, Roger was giggling gleefully to himself, playing with a kerchief he’d had around his neck as he seemed extremely amused by it. “Brian,” you thought you’d heard him mumble, and you raised an eyebrow as you watched his snickers intensify, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. He was clearly enjoying something, and you were eager to know what was so funny about what you’d just said.

“Rog, what in the hell are you going on about over there?” Brian asked, doing the dirty work for you as you watched expectantly, Roger’s eyes raising to meet the gazes of both of you.

His cheeks reddened a bit and he nervously let his eyes fall back to his kerchief, fiddling with it. “Nothing, I just thought of something funny.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you encouraged, giving him a smile as he chuckled and glanced at you quickly, giving an almost ashamed smile while he tried to decide whether he should say it or not. He felt anxious, like he was under a microscope suddenly, and he knew that the joke he’d said in his head was cringe-worthy at best. But you looked so insistent and so supportive of him that he finally grumbled and dropped the kerchief to his lap.

“I was laughing because I thought you called him Brine.”

The look on your face faltered as you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. “You thought I called him Brian? Isn’t that his name?”

“No!” Roger whined, Brian cocking his head to the side and making Roger groan as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I mean, yes, that’s his name! But I thought you called him Brine, like salt water brine, and I laughed because it’s salty and so is Brine. I mean, Brian. Damn it! It’s fucking funny, okay?” He quickly shot up out of his seat, stomping towards the kitchen as you watched, still just as confused as ever, but Brian was laughing.

“You ever notice how much faster he moves when he’s wrong?” Brian noted, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he rose from his seat, following Roger into the kitchen as he refused to pass up an opportunity to keep giving him hell. Today, and only today, Brian seemed to have time to keep up with Roger.

Keeping up with Roger any other day? Now that was a chore. As much as you tried to focus on the sole reason you were here in 1970’s London, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Roger as an individual. He was an enigma, his motives, knowledge, and way with words completely baffling to you. With people like Brian, it was easy. Brian, although reserved, was very much an intellectual when he spoke, and he always had a sort of predictability to him. Sure, he was a wild man when he’d had a few pints, but not like Roger. Roger was a wild man every single day, and it excited you so much that it simultaneously exhausted you.

You were lulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of the couch sinking down next to you again, and you found that Roger was now seated next to you instead, in the midst of an argument with Brian.

“Brian, you’re just upset because you’re so clearly up your own arse that you can’t understand anyone else’s humor! Get a grip, mate.” Watching Roger, you observed as he glared at the taller man, who sunk down into the chair that Roger had been in just moments ago.

“Or you just have an unrefined sense of humor?” Brian suggested, his voice laced with the slightest bit of animosity as he tried and nearly failed to ignore the “up your arse” comment. When Roger rolled his eyes and began mocking him in a high-pitched, feminine voice, Brian scoffed and looked down at Freddie, who’d been watching the exchange quietly. “What a pathetic display. I’m genuinely ashamed God made me a man.”

“Yeah, well I don’t think God’s doing a lot of bragging either!” Roger spit back, fire practically shooting out of Brian’s eyes as his head whipped up so he was staring at Roger.

“You fucking wanker! You’re just showing off and trying to be all funny because Y/N is here,” Brian accused, his usually gentle hazel eyes brimming with hostility. Your eyes widened at the tension that settled between the two of them, a heavy weight in the air as you desperately looked at Freddie for some help. Freddie just shrugged, though, offering no assistance and pretending to ignore the petty argument as he braided a small section of Mary’s hair.

“Um, should I go?” you asked, pointing at the door as you glanced between Brian and Roger. Obviously, this tiff had something to do with you, and while you had no idea how, you figured it was best for you to just let them figure it out. Rising to your feet, you tugged your pajama shorts down before grabbing your glass of wine and padding off to Roger’s room as Roger yelled at Brian once again.

“Now you’ve done it, you big moron. You’ve scared our roommate out of her own room! God, you’re really something, Brian.”

Snickering at the fiery words, you shook your head and entered Roger’s semi-messy room, crossing over to the window and curling up in one of the two beanbags situated next to it. Tucking your legs underneath you, you sipped your wine and stared out at the twilight sky, a creamy semidarkness to the horizon that framed the city’s buildings. You could just see the outlines of the church across the street, which made you scowl as you imagined your mom’s haggard face, her head leaning back against that damned rocking chair, just sitting there motionlessly. “Fucking prick,” you muttered, the fleeting thought of your father and the two men from the church poisoning your thoughts, a bitter reminder of your current purpose.

“Yeah, Brian can be a bit of a headcase, but he’s alright sometimes.” You jumped as you suddenly heard Roger’s voice behind you, and you turned to look at him as he crossed the room and stood opposite of you, leaning against the window frame..  “Definitely a fucking prick, though.”

“Oh,” you breathed out softly, furrowing your eyebrows as you pushed all of your previous thoughts out. “Yeah, he’s mental. Funny guy, though.”

“Don’t say that,” Roger groaned, giving you a small grin before he looked out the window as well. “Fred wants you back out there. Says he’s got an announcement.”

“I suppose I better bless the room with my presence then, huh?” you teased, Roger chuckling and pulling you to your feet before letting you lead the way. As you exited his room, he tried and failed to ignore the way your pajama shorts were riding up, just revealing the curve of your ass beneath it. Catching his tongue between his teeth, he had a brief ‘Lord help me’ moment before it was ended all too soon by your hand reaching down to tug the shorts back into their original place again.

Following you out to the main room again, Roger resumed his spot on the couch next to you as Deacon chatted with Mary politely, quieting down when he realized everyone was there again. Brian shifted uncomfortably in the chair, avoiding looking at you or Roger as he waited for Freddie, who was now in the kitchen, to speak.

“Now that we’ve decided to take the band more seriously, I figured I should start taking myself more serious now too.” Freddie walked out with an envelope of things, pulling out what looked like a passport and handing it to Brian, then pulling out a few sketches and handing them to Deacon, who marveled at the artwork as Brian looked up at Freddie. There was an amused look on his face, and you listened curiously as they spoke while you sipped your wine.

“Mercury? Like our song?”

“Freddie fucking Mercury. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” You choked on your sip of wine, turning beet red as they all glanced at you. This was news. Freddie Bulsara was actually Freddie Mercury, standing right here in front of you, your roommate and closest friend for two months, and you’d had no idea. “Well, if you didn’t like it dear, you could have just said so!” Freddie laughed, handing you a paper towel so you could wipe the wine off of your nose.

You laughed nervously with him, cleaning yourself up as you stared up at him, still floored at this development. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you replied quietly, in awe at the living legend who’d just handed you a paper towel because you were a moron who didn’t put two and two together for actual months. If that was Freddie Mercury, then this must be Queen. It had to be Queen.

Your suspicions were confirmed as Deacon handed the sketches over to Roger, who ooh’ed and aah’ed at them as he eyed the details. There was the Queen crest, and you felt dizzy as you realized how blind you’d been all this time. You were casually rooming with two rock legends and you thought you’d just been slumming with a few students that had side gigs as musicians.

“Mercury seems like a bit much, but then again, you are a bit much,” Brian taunted, Freddie tossing a pillow at him as he sat back down again, chuckling.

“Well, as some illustrious person once said, ‘You can tell a lot about a man by his name.’”

“You just made that up, didn’t you?” Brian asked, raising an eyebrow at Freddie, who laughed once again.

“Maybe. But I do stand by it, honest!”

It all made sense now. Your mom had been a huge fan of these guys – you, not so much, for you were admittedly out of touch with the 80’s and 70’s. But you very vaguely knew about them, and of course, the two remaining members were still bigshots as far as your country was concerned. John Deacon, the bass player who’d dropped off the face of the Earth in the 90’s, lounging at the end of the couch. Brian May, the guitar legend who’d once played on top of Buckingham, squinting at Freddie’s passport and turning it in his hands. And next to you, ogling at the newly designed logo for his band, Roger fucking Taylor, a legend as far as drumming was concerned and one hell of a singer from what your mom had said.

You’d never asked him about the band or about the name. You really had thought they’d just been playing in pubs for fun, which at this point, they might very well be. And you’d never been around to hear them practicing or talking about the band – you’d been too busy in your own little world of the café and the church that you hadn’t paid any mind to their musical work. Now, you realized that you very well should have.

“You want to have a look?” Roger suddenly asked, grabbing your attention again as he offered you the papers, which you accepted shakily. It felt like your head was spinning as you stared down at the iconic crest, the two lions that framed the crown and letter Q, which was topped by a crab. Two fairy women stared up at the Q from below, and a phoenix stole the show at the top of it all, encompassing the entire work and bringing it all around into one big individual crest.

“Don’t hog it, I want to see,” Brian complained, and Roger rolled his eyes as you took a deep breath and handed it to Brian, who switched you for the passport. There was Freddie, long hair, clean-shaven face. This was not the iconic Freddie photo you knew. You only knew Freddie from the mustache, from the unique voice. This was a young Freddie, an inexperienced Freddie – this was not the same rock legend that your mom adored back in the present.

Oh, God. “I need some air, I’m getting a bit overheated,” you murmured, handing off the passport to Roger, who glanced at you curiously before looking over the document with Deacon. Excusing yourself, you tiptoed back to Roger’s room and opened the window, leaning out as your heart sank in your chest, heavy with the weight of what you knew.

Freddie Mercury was dead long before you’d even been born. AIDs had prematurely ended his life, his career, and that was something that even you knew. A man you considered to be one of your best friends as of currently would be dead in 20 years, and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t stay here for a whole two decades, monitoring Freddie, keeping him out of harm’s way. Who knew how he’d contracted the horrible disease? It could have been anything at any time. And that killed you inside.

On the other hand, you had to watch yourself. This was literally Queen you were talking about here - if you meddled any more than you currently were, who knows what kind of shit could happen to the band? How big of an impact were you going to have here? Anything you say could alter their path irreversibly. If it was bad enough, you’d have to restart your mission completely, setting you back months in your progress already. God, this is some Butterfly Effect-type shit. I miss Brooklyn 99 and not having an existential crisis every time I make a choice.

“Freddie asked me to bring this to you, I figured you’d be in here again.” Roger’s voice once again interrupted your train of thought, and you sighed as you waved listlessly at the floor next to you, leaving your head resting on your other arm in the window frame. “You alright? You’re not gonna keel over on me, are you? ‘Cause I’d prefer if you bit the big one in Freddie’s room.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed weakly, sliding back into the room and dragging yourself onto one of the bean bags as you picked up the refilled wine glass that he’d brought you. When you looked up at him, he shrugged and took a seat across from you, his legs tangled with yours in the small space. “Sorry for being a party pooper. Just have a lot on my mind, and I’m tired.”

“Well, you are working a lot,” Roger remarked, a worried expression crossing his face as he crossed his arms. He was undeniably gorgeous, even in the dark. The streetlights coming in from the window highlighted his face in a way that made his cheekbones seem even more prominent, his jawline sharper than usual, casting an angular shadow on his neck. Light played around in his eyes, making them paler but just as striking as he observed you with a concerned eye. “Maybe you should take some time off, you’ll catch your death if you don’t relax a bit.”

His words were sinfully calming to you, and you beat yourself up inside as you sipped at your wine glass, tearing your eyes away from his irresistible gaze to look out the window at the now-night sky. “No, I need to focus on work,” you murmured, an uneasy look passing over your face as you avoided his piercing gaze, refusing to falter. You had to focus. Your mom’s livelihood was in your hands. “It’s too important.”

“Are you not important too?” he questioned, making your heart race. You couldn’t help yourself – you met his gaze once more, chewing on your lip as the intimidating stare seemed to try and pick you apart, piece by piece. He was worried about you - this meant he was genuinely attached to you, and that terrified you. But you couldn’t help yourself once again - you had to pry. 

“I don’t know. Am I?”

PT. 1 PT. 2 PT. 3

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EDIT: HI IM SORRY I FUCKED UP THE LAYOUT ON MOBILE I LITERALLY HATE TUMBLR MOBILE WITH MY WHOLE BEING HAHAHAHAA FUCK

[the-kipsabian]

Gimmmeeee some FictionBang and PixieTown for the OTP questionos!!

im gonna fling myself to space thank youuuu gonna do these for fictionbang since pixietown was already answered

Who offers their jacket when the other is cold?daaaaan. without a question tbh. hes a gentleman he aint gonna let his lady get cold gdi

Who giggles uncontrollably when the other playfully picks them up?dan giggles. when he picks mads up. thats how this question works, right?

Who compliments the other in front of everyone?oh my god absolutely dan. mads is more likely to just yell about how amazing he is in private, especially to kit, but dan would like. compliment her all the time about everything to anyone cause he really like. sees so much more positives than negatives in literally everyone

Who is more likely to tell the other a pun and what is the other’s reaction to the pun?dan is the pun man tbh. often times to the degree that mads just has to softly ask him to shut up dan thats not funny pls stop i need you to be quiet for a second honey pls

When one of them has a bad day, what does the other do to help cheer them up?if its dan thats having a bad day, mads sits him down and gives him relaxing games to play, while she does his hair. makes little braids or straightens it or something similar, or just a simple scalp massage. just some really relaxing activitiesdan would bury her in snuggles and sing to her. tell dumb jokes and play games badly on purpose to make her laugh

If they got to pick what one another wears for a day, what would one another wear?mmmm i dont know actually? like mads would honestly be fine with whatever hes wearing, while i think dan would love to see her in a dress?

Who introduces their partner to their family first? How does it go?daaaaaan. again, mads has issues even if the boi is super nice lol

In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer?mads is the employee, trying to keep herself together while serving this cute musician boi oh dear lord

When they sit side by side, do they touch one another? For example, does one person has their arm around the other, do they sit holding hands, or linked arms, ECT.holding hands for the most part. i could also absolutely imagine dan just randomly flinging his arms around her whenever he feels like it. tho most often i’d see mads sitting on his lap when appropriate instead of next to him??

What is a small thing that one another does to make their partner happy?dan shares a lot of his music stuff with her, likewise mads shares a lot of writing things with him. they dont necessary co-create much, but they do share and are open about their artistic endeavors with one another, and they support each other on those fields

What would they do to celebrate their one year anniversary?..i really wanted to post a first date reference here but lets not for now LOL. it would probably just be like a regular date, go to a cafe and just hang out, and at the point where mads just thinks that yeah, he forgot, dan would burst out into a serenade in public asdasjdas

When did they know that loved each other, and when did they first tell each other that they loved one another?dan is the one that says it first tho. mads is a hard headed about admitting her feelings cause often times shes not sure what shes really feeling, and this case is no different with that, so she just. i mean she enjoys his company and really likes him but love? idk maaaan. and then dan just. kinda drops it. and means it. he just develops feelings easily which is part why he is so lighthearted and loving and just yeah. its just a casual lounging around saturday afternoon when he just drop that and mads just. takes it. okay boy, i love you too

Who likes to give the other hugs from behind followed by a kiss?this falls for dan tbh. hes a very cuddly and kissy person woo

Who would make a playlist for the other person? What would be featured on the playlist?oh absolutely dan. its always the music boi lbr. its bunch of her favorite songs, some original and some covers, just random ridiculous stuff he has recorded to make her laugh and smile when she hears them, just little messages from him for her to listen to, and then some of his own stuff. just a mess of everything that would make her feel better tbh

Who would bring their partner on a romantic date under the stars?it can honestly be either of them. mads being a huge ass romantic, and dan just loving to do stuff like this on impulse cause he knows it makes her happy

[quailthekenku]

From brainstorms of a history project

(Tw: Caps, negative self talk, executive dysfunction)

Basically a vent that dissolved into me writing down anything that I thought of while in history class :b

(bolded for convenience sorry not sorry)

Why? Why can’t I bring myself to do anything? Why am I like this? Quail just do the thing? The research??? You need to do that??? Why am I not doing that?????? Why am I just scrolling pinterest and writing whatever this is? I’m just writing nonsense instead of using the full period my teacher’s giving me to work on my homework? Why can’t I just do that?!

Bree boop boop bree boop boop bree boop boop bre bop bop bre bop boop brebebooooooooop

 -_- 

sigh

I’m just writing whatever comes to mind I guess.

 Shouldn’t I get to work on my project?

Why aren’t I doing this… Why can’t I just get to doing it……..All I can think of is eating lunch later but I know that means I’m gonna waste an entire period until then and then I’m gonna procrastinate about it and not tell my parents about it and sit there at home wondering why I didn’t just tell them in the first place. 

I could just talk to the teacher and tell them I’m thinking of changing my person.

 There’s hardly any information on him.

Henry VIII, I mean.

 At least, nothing relative to the renaissance. The only thing he did basically was have six wives and gain control over the church in order to marry one of them. 

That’s it. 

How the frick am I supposed to stretch that into 8 slides without bluffing and padding the heck out of it? There’s no way not to do that. I’m doomed. I’m gonna fail history. All because I didn’t do this one assignment I was supposed to do.

 Good job, me. GOOD FREAKING JOB. JUST DO THE EFFING RESEARCH. IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED. CHANGE TO A DIFFERENT PERSON.

 But what if that window’s already closed and asking them is just gonna be unhelpful and he has to explain that I should have had it all figured out way before now. ,:< only need to write a few bullet points on him anyway.

 I can switch to talking about other figures while pretending to be him I guess? SIDE EFFECTS OF CORN ARE… CHOKING. I GUESS. Lol that meme was so funi Slimesicle is a cool guy

but I wish he didn’t swear so I could watch his channel more :(

Lol this is just a dialogue of all my inner thoughts now isn’t it XD

Wait am I gonna post this somewhere? Probably not. But if I did I’d probably have to edit out the big vent spiral I just went through.

 Ooh this song is rly good! what’s the name of it again? Catch by Jaron? It’s really good. I’m totally gonna listen to this later. 

Very calming :D

Sigh and now how much time have I wasted? Why can’t I just get to researching? GET TO RESEARCHING QUAIL OR YOU’RE DEFINITELY GONNA REGRET IT.

  I’m wondering if I really am quoigender? But I don’t think so… I mean I know I’m a girl obvi but I sometimes feel really boyish or kind of nonbi? But not completely. Like not Imma-turn-into-a-boy-now intensity. But like I don’t really like skirts or pink or those 100% feminine things but I’m also kind of-

 How cool would it be if I got the right side of my hair cornrowed? Like just that side? It would be so cool :0  I could wear it in a ponytail off to one side or I could have the rest of my hair off one shoulder and it would look really really cool :3

🎶On the freezing sun, warmth, take each others hands and we would run, cold ran the autumn sky🎶

Man I love Jack Stauber he’s such a cool song artist. 

 I love fall too :0  The beautiful oranges and light sweaters were really nice

Do I really want my hair braided? I’ll lose the puffiness of my hair Noooooooo

🎶I wanna get lighter🎶

🎶I gotta get lighter🎶

🎶We’re bout to go up baby, up we go🎶

🎶Up baby, up we go🎶

🎶Blowin up speakers🎶

Gratatatattaatatatatattataattatatatatattatatatata

What on earth is that fluttery thing people keep talking about? When you just look at them and suddenly it’s like you turned from black and white to colors and they’re all swirling around that person and you feel like if you left them then everything would fade back to grey-

OMG I LOVE THIS SONG G A S P

🎶WE USED TO HAVE IT ALL🎶

🎶BUT NOW’S OUR CURTAIN CALL🎶

🎶SO HOLD FOR THE APPLAUSE🎶

🎶WHOAAH🎶

🎶WAVE OUT TO THE CROWD🎶

🎶TAKE OUR FINAL BOWS🎶

🎶OH IT’S OUR TIME TO GO🎶

🎶BUT AT LEAST WE STOLE THE SHOW-WW🎶

🎶BUT AT LEAST WE STOLE THE SHOW-WW🎶

🎶AT LEAST WE STOLE THE SHOW🎶

Oh gawd the teacher just walked past I need to start working but I’m doing something else why aren’t I doing that everyone else is working on it I’m gonna fall behind he’s changing my grade right now isn’t he I’m gonna fail I’m gonna fail I’m so gonna fail - 

Ok Quail, it’s gonna be ok just calm yourself. Calm. Calm. You’ll figure it out.

WHAT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIGURE IT OUT I CAN’T DO THIS IM GONNA FAIL AND EVERYONE IS GOING TO HATE ME OH GOD 

No they will not, we'll be fine. And how does taking a mental break even begin to affect your relationships?

…

[innerheadstories]

My First story post and a very very rough draft.

"Why in the hell did we have to take this route" One of the merchants asked as they pushed threw the thick forest path that had becomes so overgrown in recent time the path was nearly gone. So even with the strong hourses they had for travel it was still hard to get threw with there carts.       "Stop ya belly aching" The other merchant grumbled. "Your the one who wasnted to spend all your time drinking and whoring around in the last village and cost us all that extra time. So if we dont take this path we wont be able to reach Isenberg in time for the festivle" He said annoyed.         The other growned as he led the horse threew the trail having to give it a little extra tug as the wheels had a hard time getting over some of the larger tree roots. "YA but isnt this path notrious for badit attacks. " The other man rolled his eyes. "Oh they say that about every forest path its always badits or mosnters or somthing its nothing more than fear and cowrdice" he said as he contued on.       Of course even thought he said that it didnt mean going threw this path didnt put him more on edge. He kept his dagger close at hand and his ears open.  Although thinking about it now. It was qiet errily so. There was no sound of small animals scurring threw the bush and no birds chirping near by or making calls looking for a mate.  He looked around trying to hear anything that signaled any sighn of life.  

        As they got deeper into the woods and the day grew later it got harded to travel thats when finally they herd it. Snapping of twig. Turning quickly towrs the sound the merchant saw giant of a man coming into view. He had a sick grin as he held a large bloody mace in his hand "Well well what have we got here seemes some travlers got lost in our woods mates." He cuckled as more snapping could be heard and men began coming out of the of the foiliage and from the tree branches above one man had a bow drawn with a arrow aimes right at them. "what a pitty." He said       The large man looked at them ."Well we can show you the way out of course....you have to pay the charge for passing threw our territory" The merchants both huddled close to there items. "Please ...please just let us go" He said as he looked around ath the large number of men gathering. "We are only simple merchants we dont have much but we will give you our money to pass." The other merchant looked at him. "What are you saying." the other one turned quickly to glare at him. "Shut up we can make more money cant make any money if we are dead."          The larger leader laughed as he started forward. "Smart man" He grinned ."And if you dont have enogh we will also be taking your wares." He siad. But before he gotwith striking distance a arrow shot down from the tree tops and into the ground in fornt of him. All the badits looked aroound the one with his bow shooting a arrow back in the direction of that the other ahd shot from but all that could be herd was tthe arrow passing threw tree leaves and branches. .  "what the hell was that " The leader of the group growled.        Suddenly a new voice was herd laughing . "My my what greddy little men you are moeny and their wares how bothersome." The voice seemed to come from the woods themselvs. "And what was about your woods." The laugher was deep and harmoic even the voice was smooth and deep and seemed to resenate  "Please no mere mortal could hope to own these woods or any woods." The voice said. "This forest as all forest is home of the elven people and belogns to no one." Finally a man dropped down from the foilage and landed on a tree branch. He had a bow and arrow quiver on his back as he held a staff in his hands. Although it seemed to be a simple wooden staff it had a beautful red wood color to it with a small blue crystal knessled inside the top of it.  His black hair was long and held small braides near the top to keep it somwhat pulled back behind his ears. His ears were pointed and his skin was a deep copper tone and completly umblemised and looks smooth as silk. His green eyes seemed to dance with amuzment and mischef. "Well well what a truly distubing sight." He said with a grin.     The leader of the bandits glared at the elf. "Who the hell are you."        The elf smiled "How rude of me not to introduce myself Galland at your service .....Well not your service" HE smiled "Morley the service of ....well the whole world I would assume I dont imagin anyone will miss you but the world will be better with you gone from it." HE said. THe man laughed "You gonna do us in little man with what that little stick of yours." He chuckled as he grabbed his crouch. "Me cocks bigger than that little thing." He said "But Ill tell ya what come down here and Ill shove that stick right up your arse and let you wobble home." He smiled befor shaking his head. "Nah Think Ill just use me little stick here to rip your guts out  instead." The man glared as he looked at him then singlaed at his bowman "Kill that little fairy and be done with him." No sooner had he spoke than the man kniocked another arrow and fired at him. The elf grinned twisting and his body and snached the arrow from thre air. "Your quiet good with that." He smiled "But Im better" the man growled and quickly knoked another aroow firing at him and in one swift motion the elf had droped down and using his legs swung around hanging upside down from the treelimb he knoked the arrow he had snacked from the air and shot it back at the man The arrow planted in a tree behind him.    The bowman laughed "Cant be that good ya missed" AS he went to knock another arrow thogh he relesed the elf had actully shot the sting of his bow. His eyes wideneed as the elf grinned "Oh did I" He let got and twisted his body landing on the groud ad putting his bow back on his back. "ALright enogh of this get him boys." The leader gorlwed as they all began converging on the elf. He laughed "Oh dear. He quickly grabbed his staff and blocked the first man to get to him twisting it and knicking the mans blade away before using the end to jab him and knicked im to the ground as another man came at his back he shoved the staff back hitting him in the gut as well with ther head before twisiting around and knicking him from his feet. All this before the gang leader moved over raising his mace. "Try and stop this pretty boy" He snalred swinging his mace down with enogh force that it would snap any nomral weapon in half But just before it connected with the stafft it hit someinviable wall and a shokwave blasted out knocking everyone back. The elf spun his staff around with a laugh "What was that about little twig." HE grinned as he swung it in a wide arc and the jewl in the top glowed as the roots and vines began to come out of the ground and twist around the badnits. The men grolwed and all began wilding choping and slashing at the vines and roots that seemed to have taken a mind of their own as they tried to contrict and wrap around them.The badit leader rared ripping the roots away from him as he rushed the elf. "My my you are a strong one. The male said in a cocky tone as the leader swung wildly at him. The elf smiled as he twisted and ducked around the manes wild swings while the leader tried to keep his feet it seemed the more vines and roots he ripped from the ground focing himself onward the more wrapped around him and tried harder to pull him down. The elf smiled "Seems you having trouble there."  The badit leader swung at him one final time and the elf hoped back holding his hands out he flicked his fingers at the man and the vines wrapped around his writs and arms pulling him to the ground. All right eveyrone time to rest for now."  constricting them and  covering there mouths as the forest itself seemed to suck them into nothing ness as they were pulled into the ground.  The badits thrashs and swung there weapoins widley trying to stop themselves from being pulled into the ground screaming and crying out for mercy. Untill only the badit leader was left. HE strugled agest the vines as he grabbed and tryed ripping them away. "G...god damnit im....im not gonna die to some little fucking elf "  The elf lagughed. "Well I would love to see how your gonna stop me." HE told him as he watched him. BEfore the vines finally took him underground and sucked him into the earth like a living burial. He smiled before turing back ot the merchants who were brushing themselves off and getting to their feet. They looked fearfully at the male elf     "P...please sir we dont want no trouble we just be passing threw."            Galland laughed "Please Im not gonna hurt you." He smiled "Wouldnt have made much sense to save you if I ment you harm" He smiled as he moved his staff to his back and walked over to them with his hands behind his head. "If you keep on the path here you should find the village by tomarow morning ....midday if you stop to sleep for the night." He told them. The both smiled before the one in back came forward. "Please sir if there is anything we can do for you just say it." The elf waved his hand dimissivly before thinking ."Actully Im fresh out of wine so if you could spare a bottle of summer wine I would be most thankfull" The mechant laughed "your in luck I got a wonderfull selection of summer wine just for the festivle" He smiled as he went back to his cart and opened the carrage before pulling out a large bottle of red wine. "HEre a wonderfull wine from the east lands."  The elf smiled as he held the bottle up to the light "Ahhh this lookes eccelent" He smiled "My deepest gratidute." He said AS he began to walk away.     "Wait." One of the men called out "Why not travle with us to the festivle I am sure there would be plenty of other summer wines and we would gladly compensate you for guiding us and protecting us from danger"      The elf shook his head. "You shall be fine this lot was the only badit group currently in the area.' HE smiled "I may see you at the festive" He held up wanted posters "But for now I have bounty to collect' He told them with a chuckle. "Thank you for your help by the way saved me the trouble of having to find them. Oh one last thing could you tell the gaurd in town that they need to come collect these gentalmen." He laughed. agin AS he jumped into the trees and was soon gone from sight..        As instruced once the merchants reached town they went directly to the town gaurds to inform them of what had happened and the gaurds only smiled and nodded thanking them for their information.           As a unit of gaurd entered the forest the had hauled along a large empty cage that was used for prsnor traspoert.       "Captain how far into the woods is this elf."    The captain laughed ."I forgot your new to the regiment arent you." The gaurd nodded as the second one laughed. "Galland is one of the best ounty hunters in this part of the world" He told him as the captain nodded ."While normally elfs only creat problems or hold a sens of self importance Galland is a decent enogh ort he hunts for money and enjoys our festivles." He smiled "Never a bad drinking compainon either. The one gaurd rolled his eyes ."Please eveyone knows elefes look down their noses at us and every other race." He said almost annoyed That was untill they herd the soft melody of the violen that seemed to be carried by the wind into the tranquil forst.      The captain smiled "Ahhh we are getting close." The other gaurd rased a eyebrow, "Is he the one playing." the captain nodded as the contued to move.        Sure enogh they soon came to the area the merchants had left hours before. And sitting atop a tree branch was the male elft he had one leg on the branch with him while his other dnageld care free from the brach while he placyed the violen he held in his skilled hands. his eyes where closed and the soft melody of his instument seemed to only make the forest that much more tranquiel. It was only being so close one would notice the sliet movment of his lips. He was ...singing the elven voice travles threw the trees and with the music in such a way it wouldnt be until you saw him singing that you even relised there were words to accompany the melody.       The new gaurd began to move forward as if he were going ot adress the elev before the captain placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dont worry he knows we are here."    ...It was a moment or two before the male finished his song. As he did he opened his eyes though looking down at the men. "Ahhh captain wonderfull to see you as always." He said hopping down from the tree and landing skillfully on his feet in front of the men.            "Good to see you Galland I hear you have a prisnor delvery for us"     Galland smiled "I may do you have a bounty for me" He asked raiseing his eyebrows playfully" The captain chuckled as the other graurd cleared his throat. "Captain we dont have time for this besides I dont even see any bandits around here" The elef smiled looking over the captain at the one who had spoke. "But my lad they are in ground in the trees cant you sense them all around you"      THe gaurd looked at him "What kind of elf nonsens it that we came to collocet prsnors not hear some natrulist proverbs about eveyone being connected." He glared      Galland laughed "My my captain your new man dosnt seem to like me very much" The captain laughed "Well you are more of a aquired taste" The elf looked offdendn playfull "Oh you wound me sir and I thought we were frineds." HE smiled as he clapped his hands out ouf of the trees and from the ground the bandits were reveald all their hands and legs bound with vines "Mabey I should give thses to someone eles then." The captain laughed as the new recutte jumped as one came up almost form directly under him. Motioning to the two the other gaurd patted the new guy on the shoulder and helped him beging loading the badits into the cage while The captain pulled out a small bag of gold coins. "As always you never dissapoint." The elf smile "I live to please" He smile taking the bag and shaking it before putting it in his shirt. "Your a man of your word I dont think I should need to count it." The captain shook his head. "That attidufde will get you killed somday." Galladn grinned "Yes but today is not that day" He smiled as the captain shook his head while he and his men turned the cart around and began heading out  "Allow me to play you off" He smiled as he jumped back into the tree picking up his istument agin and before long the gaurds could hear the melody of the elves playing once agin accompining them on their way out of the deepe woods.